A lot of people seem to want to talk about this so I thought I’d throw up a post and let you discuss.  We’ve reviewed the script twice on the site, once by Roger, who thought the script was genius, and then I reviewed it as well.  The script is also ranked as #1 by you guys, the readers of the site. It wasn’t quite my thing but I had to admit the writing was imaginative and detailed.  So what do I think of Tarsem directing the film?  Well, he has an interesting visual style that should gel well with the universe.  He hasn’t had a good script to direct yet though.  This would be the best one by far.  So maybe that’s all he needs to knock a film out of the park.  What do you guys think? 

A couple of weeks ago Sean O’Keefe sold his pitch, Riders On The Storm, to Fox for half a million dollars. The script is about a heist crew that pulls off sophisticated robberies during severe storms. I realized we don’t talk about pitching very much on the site, even though it’s a huge part of the business. Oftentimes, after you meet someone about your script, you’ll pitch them other projects you’re working on.  So I thought Sean would be the perfect person to ask, “What’s this pitching thing all about?”  Sean is also currently writing a film adaptation of “Apaches” for producer Jerry Bruckheimer and Disney Pictures about the NYPD along with writing partner Will Staples.  Enjoy the interview.

SS: Can you tell us how you got started in screenwriting? What was your background leading up to it? Did you do anything else film-related?

SO: I grew up between two isolated worlds – a cabin in Alaska with no running water and a draconian boarding school in England. As a result movies for me were always a way of feeling connected with the outside world. My final semester in college, I decided to write a spec based on Milton’s “Paradise Lost” and some family friends hooked me up with a meeting with veteran screenwriter Jay Cocks who had worked with Scorsese on “The Age of Innocence.” Jay told me I was crazy – Hollywood would never make it – so I let the idea go. Now, of course, Alex Proyas is making a film based on the material. It’s the same lessen I’ve learned a hundred times: follow your gut no matter what because it’s all you have.

After paralegalling in New York my first year out of school and writing two painfully bad scripts on my lunch breaks, I moved out to LA and worked in development first for Neal Moritz at Original Film then Michael Ovitz at APG, the film production arm of AMG. I then co-founded a film and video game production company called Union Entertainment with Rich Leibowitz.

Around that time, my father passed away and I spent a week in ICU waiting for the inevitable to happen. It turned out to be a period of reckoning for me. I realized you only have so much time to do what you want in life, so I made the choice to return to screenwriting.

SS: When was the first time you got paid to write? How many scripts had you written before you got that first paycheck?

SO: The first time I got paid was in 2003 with my former writing partner, Will Staples. We had gone out with a Mayan period piece spec (my fifth script at that point) that didn’t sell but was well received for the writing and two weeks later Sony called up and asked if we wanted to write King Tut for Roland Emmerich. We came up with a take, Roland and the studio liked it, and the rest is ancient history…

SS: I’ll be murdered if I don’t ask this question. But how did you get your agent?

SO: I was lucky in that in my capacity as a producer and exec I had dealt directly with a number of agents and managers around town. My agent, Nicole Clemens at ICM, and my manager, Brian Lutz, were both reps who were excellent at representing their clients when I was on the other side of the table. When it came time for me to devote myself to writing again, they were the first people I reached out to.

SS: In your opinion, what’s the most difficult thing about screenwriting, and what’s the best way to tackle that difficulty?

SO: Knowing that I am writing for an audience is the hardest aspect of the process for me. The moment I look up from the page and see the faces in the proverbial crowd – studio execs, agents, managers, other writers – I feel stage fright setting in. I start to second guess myself. I wonder if I have the right character for my story or the wrong story for my character. I fall into the trap of perfectionism. The trick is to write as if you are writing purely for yourself, but it’s easier said than done. Oddly, Donald Rumsfeld had some wisdom in this arena: “You go to war with the army you have, not the army you might want.” Eventually, you have to stop second guessing yourself and charge into battle.

SS: You’ve obviously been out there, talked to producers, have a beat on their needs. What do producers want these days? Are there some common genres they’re asking for? Do they want the “Next Twilight?” The “Next found footage” script? What are you hearing?

SO: Everybody thinks they want the thing that just performed at the box office but the truth is that they want the next great idea that walks through the door. Your job is to bring them that next great idea. I’ve never been very good at forecasting what the market wants and then tailoring my output accordingly. I run with the movie I most want to write and hope that others feel as excited about it as I do…

Disappointment, however, lurks around every corner in this process. That is why I have a personal rule of thumb, which is my ‘one in ten’ rule. That is for every ten swings at bat you connect with one ball. For every ten meetings or reads, someone connects with what you are trying to do. It’s fuzzy math, but it helps to keep your expectations in check. Not everyone is going to resonate with what you’re doing. But that’s okay – you only need one in ten to actually make real progress. Every studio passed on our Mayan epic, but one liked the writing enough to call us back in. That one call gave birth to our career.

SS: We were having this debate the other day on the site. Should an unknown writer try to break in with something heartfelt and personal to them – something that will bring out their best writing? Or should they write something high concept and marketable, even though they won’t be as emotionally attached to the writing?

SO: Stick with the cliché of writing what’s in your heart. It’s a cliché for a reason. But if it’s a big summer action movie that’s in your heart, then consider yourself lucky.

SS: If you could go back in time and give your younger screenwriter self some advice on how to get to the professional level faster, what would you tell him?

SO: Four things…

Write as much as you can. It’s all about clocking the hours and getting words on the page. In the Gladwellian sense you need to get in your 10,000 hours, so the sooner the better.

Write, rewrite, then move on. Don’t get stuck trying to overly perfect a script in the beginning. You will learn more from cracking a new story than you will from debating where to place your commas.

Avoid the Freshman Writer Trap. The problem is that in the beginning many new writers think they’re the next Robert Towne – and perhaps they will turn out to be – but it will likely take years to know. Don’t assume that you shit gold from the get-go. The likelihood is that your first few scripts will be abominations in hindsight (at least mine were). Humility will keep you open to constructive criticism and ensure that you are learning and progressing.

Run your writing career like a producer. Have a slate of projects – one or two that you are focused on at any point in time and the others that you continue to inch forward as the opportunity arises. Never have just one baby. This is Hollywood. There is no safety net. You need to have a Third World family of projects because sadly not all of them are going to survive.

SS: What is a pitch meeting and how does one go about getting one? Does an agent read your latest script and ask you to come in? Is it something your agent works to set up? Is it you having a previous relationship with the producers and saying, “Hey, I got this new idea I want to come in and pitch you?” How does a writer get one of these things!?

A pitch is a meeting where you make a verbal presentation of a story that you want to sell so that you can be paid in advance to write it as a script.

The three essential ingredients to a pitch are having a sample script that people already like, a story to pitch, and an agent to set the meetings.

Pitches can arise in two basic ways. First, you tell your agent you have a pitch you want to take out to the town and they set meetings with producers who then take it into studios where they have their strongest relationships. Second, a producer brings you an idea and you take it out to the town exclusively with them attached.

SS: With your recent pitch sale, were you going in to specifically pitch them this project – with both sides already knowing what you were going to pitch them? Or was it something that emerged during the course of the meeting?

SO: The pitch meetings were specific to this project, which is the way it typically goes down, but there are exceptions. For example, on “World’s Most Wanted,” a spy thriller we set up at Universal, the original pitch was about a Mexican drug cartel but the exec didn’t respond to the subject matter. He did, however, like the team-versus-team dynamic of the story and said if we could come with a new subject, he would be interested. So we did several weeks of research and found a real-life NATO team that hunts the world’s most wanted criminals. We went back in, employing a similar story with the new subject, and he bought it. It was proof that you can never tell which direction a project is going to break, but you’ll never know unless you try.

SS: Can you tell us how a pitch that leads to a sale works? Are they all different? Do they tell you right there in the room “yes, we’re buying this?” Or does it happen afterwards, once they’ve checked with their superiors?

SO: I dream of the ‘in room’ sale, and I know it has happened to others, but I haven’t been the recipient of that kind of spontaneous largesse yet. For me, selling a pitch has always entailed an agonizing wait – sometimes a few hours, sometimes a few days. Now that the studios have more leverage and they are more picky about what they buy than when I started in the business, they aren’t in the same real-time rush to respond that they used to be back in the glory days of the mid-90s spec market when high concept ideas with poor execution seemed to sell on almost a daily basis. Now execs seem more afraid of being left holding the bag on a project than they do being left out of a sale.

The truth is that very few people at the studio have the authority to buy a pitch without running it up someone else’s flagpole first. If you happen to be in the room with someone who can say ‘yes’ then you’re already doing something very right – in which case keep it up!

SS: People talk about different kinds of pitches. There’s the 5 minute pitch. The 10 minute pitch. And like the longer 20 minute pitch where you pitch the whole movie. I can’t imagine a busy producer able to concentrate for 20 minutes on any writer. Do you follow this formal time-specific pitch list or do you just do it your own way?

SO: I think it depends on where you are in your career as a writer and what the nature of the pitch is – i.e. are you pitching on a rewrite the studio has submitted to you, or are you pitching an original of your own. If it’s a rewrite, and your stock is high with the studio, you can get away with a more limited pitch – i.e. “Here are the three major problems with the existing script and here’s how I would address them.” Your presentation will then likely lead into a more informal conversation with the exec.

However, if it’s an original then your choice is more problematic and the decision to go long or brief depends on a number of factors… How established are you (i.e. how much does the studio already want to be in business with you)? If you are one of the lucky few hot scribes around town then you can probably get away with the ‘less is more’ approach. If not, you might want to incorporate more detail in your presentation. The risk is that you will lose the exec’s attention and give them more to pass on, but the upside is that if you do manage to hold their attention you want them to know that you have this story worked out in enough detail that you feel confident writing it.

Another factor to consider is what kind of story it is. If it’s a rom-com in a familiar setting like a wedding then you probably don’t need to sweat establishing the world in great detail. But if you’re pitching a sci-fi or action film that takes place in an original or arcane world, then you probably want to lead with an explanation of the setting of the story so the exec can better visualize what you are talking about and understand the consequences of your dramatic choices based on the rules of the universe you are drawing from.

However…if I had a gun to my head and had to give you an ideal pitch length, I would say 12 minutes. Beyond that any exec is bound to start wondering whether they’re going to have sashimi or the dragon roll for lunch.

SS: Can you give us any tips for nailing a pitch? It’s such a different art form from writing itself. What do you think the key is?

SO: You have to know your strengths and play to them, and by that same token know your weaknesses and try to avoid them or compensate for them. If you’re good with banter, then reduce the length of your pitch and put more weight on the Q&A with the exec where you respond to their questions and observations on the fly. If you feel more confident memorizing your pitch word for word and creating a more airtight presentation, then go for that. It’s a personal choice. No one size fits all.

In addition, try to get into the pitch itself as quickly as you can. Most execs are busy and under a lot of pressure. They’re only going to be able to listen to so much of you talk, no matter how enthralling you are. Dedicate as many words as you can in the meeting to your story, not how awesome your Cabo bachelor party was or that you just hit level 85 in World of Warcraft.

Lastly, make it personal. You’re trying to convince your audience that you have this story inside of you – that you’re going to burst if you don’t get it out, and that you’re the one person who can tell it. You have to walk into the pitch believing that you’re entering with a briefcase full of diamonds and that they’d be crazy to let you walk out with it. Only never carry a briefcase into a pitch…

Genre: Horror
Premise: A Hansel and Gretel for the texting generation, Into The Dark is about a homeless brother and sister who accept the help of an older upper class woman, only to get trapped in her penthouse of horrors.
About: I don’t know a lot about this script, however from what I understand, it went out wide but did not sell. Richard Tanne and Travis Baker are the writers of a web show called “Cinema Cool” where they look at, mainly, great horror writers and directors, occasionally diving in to pop culture films. Baker was a researcher on the original Hostel, which I guess means he researched interesting ways to torture people? Tanne most recently wrote and starred in an indie movie called “Worst Friends,” about a couple of childhood best friends who move back in with each other as adults.
Writers: Richard Tanne and Travis Baker
Details: 95 pages – undated (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

Talk about a roller-coaster ride of a script. I started off thinking this was one of the worst scripts ever. Everything was so loud and on the nose. People said exactly what they were thinking and there was nary a line of dialogue where one character wasn’t yelling at another. I was like, “Do these writers know the meaning of subtlety?” But then, as the script went on, I began to realize that I’d completely misinterpreted the tone. This script was SUPPOSED to be over the top. And as soon as I realized that, everything got better. Before I knew it, I was actually enjoying the generically titled “Into The Dark.” The question is, did I enjoy it enough to recommend it?

16 year old Virginia is mourning her immediate future. That’s because her new bitchy stepmother, Issy, is moving in. Issy is not good people. She’ll smile and coddle you when daddy’s around. But as soon as he’s in the other room, she morphs into the Wicked Witch Of The West.

Virginia’s only lifeline is her brother Ellis, who she loves more than anything. As long as he’s there to protect her, she can muscle through it. Well, it turns out Ellis has other plans. He decides to quit school, move to the big city, and pursue a career in music. Moving to New York with no money to become a musician is definitely a sensible thing to do so Ellis clearly has things figured out.

Virginia is so horrified at the prospect of being alone with Step Mommy Dearest that she joins her Bieber wannabe bro at the last second and they head for the Hotel Califor-no-money-ah. They try to get jobs but those don’t last long and soon they’re living on the streets eating out of dumpsters. That reminds me of an old friend of mine. Dumpster Danny. That guy could make a sandwich out of cardboard and raw eggs if he needed to. Good guy. I miss ya DD.

Well one night while wandering through a park, a mugger goes after our dumpster duo but the most awesomest old lady ever leaps out of nowhere and slams a bottle of wine upside the mugger’s head. High five for Granny! Granny, concerned for their safety, asks them if they’d like to come up to her place and call the police. Sure, they say. Where the hell else do they have to go?

It turns out Granny ain’t doing so bad for herself. She lives in some swanky uptown building and owns the entire like 20th floor or something. The grandmotherload. After some small talk, Granny tells them they just have to try her homemade Gingerbread. While Ellis gulps it down, Virginia is a little more cautious. Something isn’t quite right here. She wisely pouches the food and keeps an eye on her suspicious host.

Next thing you know, Granny is offering them a room for the night and Ellis is all over that because he’s suddenly feeling quite tired. Virginia doesn’t have much of a choice since her brother is staying but the warning signs are starting to beep bop boop like crazy. Once in her room, she realizes the door is LOCKED. And now her suspicions are confirmed. Virginia tries to wake her brother up as the conversation outside seems to be turning to “What’s for dinner?” if you know what I mean (I mean “they’re for dinner”). Virginia finds a secret passage that she drags her brother through just before the bad guys come in and now the chase is on!

But our succulent siblings are in for a big surprise. As they try running down the fire escape, they realize that Granny doesn’t just own the condo. She owns the ENTIRE DAMN BUILDING! Every single tenant is part of the game. And they’re all starving!

The entire first act of Into The Dark is a major problem. I would even wager that the reason this script didn’t garner more interest is because a lot of people never made it past page 25. I mean we have the nonsensically evil Issy, who’s maybe the most over-the-top character in screenplay history. When she enters Virginia’s house, it’s clear this is the first time she’s ever been there. Assuming that Issy and the dad were dating before they got married, wouldn’t she have been inside their house, oh I don’t know, at least once??

Then the next sequence has bro and sis racing off to New York to try and become famous or something. At that point I’m going, “What the hell is this movie about??” But I really began to check out when they became homeless. I mean what the hell is this story about??? Then finally – FINALLY – the old woman brings them back to her place and I understood what the story was. But man, that’s a lot of nonsense to go through to get to the actual story.

I think this is why some readers had trouble with Karl’s script the other day as well. We’re trying to figure out what the movie is about, and if no clear objective emerges from our characters – if they’re not going after anything important and/or clear, we start to lose interest. And even if a clear story does emerge in that second act somewhere, we’ve already started skimming by that point, so we’re no longer emotionally invested. You don’t want the reader to put you in the skim-cycle. That’s why EVERY part of your script needs to be interesting. Not just certain parts.

Luckily, Into The Dark’s situation was compelling enough to be one of the few screenplays that pulled me back in. Once we got inside that building, I was genuinely scared for Virginia and Ellis. I think because the goal seemed so insurmountable. I just didn’t see any way that they were going to get out of this alive. So I really wanted to see if they could.

Where I think these guys really shined though was in the old lady’s family. They did a great job creating this creepy unit that had perfected ways to lure kids into their building and bake them for supper. There’s a great nod to The Wicker Man in the script too where you think our characters are safe but then they get tricked at the last second. Again, I wasn’t completely certain that they were going to get out of this alive. It’s always good to include that possibility in your horror script. The more uncertain we are, the more eager we’ll be to find out what happens.

Only other thing I’d say is please change the title of this script. Every time I needed to refer to the title in the review, I had to go back and double-check it. That’s not a good sign. This script does not have enough fire to cook your entire Thanksgiving meal, but if you’re in the mood for some silly horror fun, it might be enough to take care of the stuffing.

[ ] What the hell did I just eat?
[ ] wasn’t for my stomach
[x] worth the later digestive problems
[ ] delicious
[ ] perfect meal

What I learned: I’m going to highlight something that commenter JakeBarnes said Friday because I think it’s the most succinct summary of a story: “A story happens when a protagonist has a clearly defined goal which he/she must achieve otherwise there will be terrible consequences (ie high stakes) and that protagonist faces clear and overwhelming obstacles stopping him or her from achieving that goal. The greatest obstacle, however, is the protagonist’s own flaw which stands in his/her way, and he/she must overcome that flaw to achieve the goal. Often the flaw is worked out in the relationship storyline.” Now here’s the thing. We usually don’t get to that goal until THE END OF THE FIRST ACT. BUT, your first act should still indicate a clear direction LEADING UP TOWARDS THAT GOAL. The beginning of this story gives no indication whatsoever what this movie is going to be about. I mean do Issy and the dad really matter to the story? No. Why not just start with Virginia and Ellis on the streets of New York? Maybe right after they lose their job? Or a day away from getting kicked out of their apartment? They discuss if they should move back home, agree they can’t live with their stepmother, and reluctantly decide to tough it out on the streets until they can get another job. Maybe we see a few “Missing” flyers with their faces on them that they rip down. Things get tougher for them. And that’s when the park incident happens. The first act would just be so much cleaner than the wandering wippy-dippy confusing all over the place set of circumstances that occur now. You know?

Genre: Fantasy/Family
Premise: After inventor Karlheinz Indergarten’s best friend loses his imagination, he finds himself battling him many years later for control of their town. 
About: WKRFK finished with 3 measly votes on the 2007 Black List.  But not to worry.  That happens to be the exact same amount of votes that Untitled Chef Project finished with that year.  Strangely, Focus Features purchased this script.  I say “strangely” because I can’t remember Focus producing any family films to my knowledge.  I guess it’s not surprising then that the project has fallen into development hell. 
Writer: Adam K. Kline
Details: 95 pages – August 2006 draft, First Draft (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).
I don’t cover many family scripts on the site but it’s a genre that’s ripe for the picking if you have a great idea.  As I’ve mentioned before, they’ll pay you a lot of money for the right family script (2.5 million bucks for Aliens In The Attic a couple of years ago).  But you gotta love what you’re writing and the characters have to pop.  Kids demand something larger than life, so you gotta be able to deliver it to them.
5 year old Madelyn is minutes away from her first day at Kindergarten but she can’t do it.  She’s too scared.  Hey Madelyn, I’m with you girl.  I was scared shitless the first day of Kindergarten.  Leave home?  Stay with a bunch of strangers for 5 hours?  Are you kidding me?  I’m hiding under the bed!
So bad has the fear gotten that Madelyn’s parents call in the big gun.  Yeah, we’re talking about Grandma.  Grandma shows up ready to rock.  Dad, start making pancakes.  Mom, brew up some coffee.  This is going to get ugly.
Grandma finds Madelyn barricaded in her room and tells her that if she knows the true story behind Kindergarten, maybe she won’t be so afraid of it.  And that’s how our story begins.
Karlheinz Indergarten lives in a picturesque English town near the sea – the kind you see in postcards.  There, he attends a local orphanage led by Miss Understood, a courtly lady with an impossible to understand German accent.   Karlheinz spends all of his time with his best friend, Leopold.  They may not have TV or Ipods, but they do have a nearby giant tree that with a little imagination, they can turn into ANYTHING they want.
So they swash and they buckle and they sing and they giggle.  But then one day poor Leopold gets hit by a bolt of lightning.  He survives.  But something has changed.  Leopold is no longer interested in imagining.  We find out why.  Leopold, according to the doctors, has LOST HIS IMAGINATION.
Try as he may, try as he might, Karl can’t seem to coax fun out of Leopold anymore.  Then one day, out of the blue, an older jolly gentleman shows up and adopts Karl, taking him far away from his best friend forever.
The old man happens to be a clockmaker/clock-fixer.  And he teaches Young Karl his craft.  Karl picks it up quickly, and soon he’s better at it than the old man himself.  We watch Karl grow up, the old man get older, Karl take over the business, and finally the old man die.  It’s a sad moment, but it allows Karl to do something he’s wanted to do for a long time – go back to the town he grew up in.
Once there, he observes that everything’s changed.  The Industrial Revolution has hit and the town is caked in black smog and machinery and noise.  Back at the orphanage, Miss Understood is thrilled to see Karl again, but hits him with a bombshell.  The man in charge of all this machinery is none other than…Leopold!
Eventually, Karl meets his old friend again, who is now nothing more than a cold calculated businessman.  Leopold wants to take his company to a new level by manufacturing a series of creepy dolls that obey your every command.  And not only is he going to build over the park he and Karl grew up in, he’s going to employ children as his main work force!  Can Karl figure out how to stop the insanity?  Will he be able to save the orphanage?  And most importantly, will he find a way to give Leopold his imagination back?  Let’s hope Madelyn finds out in time to make it to her first day of Kindergarten. 
WKRFK displays a lot of imagination, but imagination occasionally overshadowed by inspiration. At times it feels like we’re getting direct homages to Disney’s most famous films.  It’s no secret that the old man who adopts Karl is a near carbon copy of Gepetto.  And then the little mechanical mouse Karl keeps in his pocket reminded me a lot of Jiminy Crickett, or any number of animated critters we’ve seen through the years. 
Despite that, WKRFK had one outstanding quality, the relationship between Karl and Leopold – from their initial friendship, to Leopold’s tragic accident, to Karl being taken away, to them now being enemies.  I don’t care what kind of movie you’re writing, a G-rated family film or an R-rated exploitation flick – this is the kind of dedication you need to have to the central relationship in your film.  We have to FEEL something between the characters – some unresolved issue that we want desperately to be resolved.  And I thought Adam Kline did a great job of that.
I also noticed a device here that REALLY makes us like a character.  It’s super-manipulative but man does it work.  The passing of time between two people who love each other that ends with one of their deaths.  In this case it’s a beautiful extended montage between Karl and the Clockmaker, where all we really see is them getting older and sharing things together.  The Clockmaker teaches Karl his craft and Karl repays him by building complicated contraptions for him.  At the end, the clockmaker dies.
First, it’s the SHOWING of love between the two that pulls you in (note: not “telling,” but “SHOWING”).  For that reason, we FEEL Karl’s pain when the clockmaker dies.  How do you not love Karl after that sequence?  How do you not want to root for him?
Not every movie gives you the opportunity to use this montage (you’d be hard pressed pulling one of these off in Taken for example) but you can see why it’s so much more effective than simply alluding to someone’s death via dialogue – which usually elicits no emotion at all from the audience.  I mean imagine had we never seen this sequence and instead, Karl had mentioned it to another character in passing: “Yeah, my father passed away after teaching me how to fix clocks.”  Doesn’t have the same punch, does it?   So if the opportunity to use this device NATURALLY is there, it’s a great option.
WKRFK is not a classic.  It’s not even great.  I would’ve looked for more opportunities to incorporate the Madelyn storyline (unlike The Princess Bride, we only see Madelyn and the grandmother at the beginning and at the end).  But I thought it worked for what it was – a simple story that most children will enjoy. 
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me

[x] worth the read

[ ] impressive

[ ] genius

What I learned: As you’ve heard on the site numerous times, you always want to start your script as LATE into the story as possible.  In The Fugitive for example, we don’t get to know Richard Kimble for a month before his wife is brutally murdered.  We start WITH HIS WIFE GETTING BRUTALLY MURDERED.  Start at the good stuff man!  But when you’re telling the story of someone’s life – and not, say, a specific event in their life – it’s okay to start at the beginning, which you see here with Karlheinz.  In fact, anything fairy tale related (“Once upon a time…”) gives you license to start with a little backstory.  So feel free to take that opportunity if you think it works best for your screenplay.   

Genre: Drama
Premise: Two old friends who’ve chosen very different paths in life reunite for a cross-country trip, only to get marooned out in the middle of the desert.
About: Kyle Killen is the writer of the top ranking Black List script of 2009, The Beaver. Killen, who had been at this screenwriting thing for awhile, famously gave himself 9 months to sell a script after his wife told him she was pregnant. If he didn’t succeed, he’d have to get a “real job” to support his family. He sold The Beaver with days to spare. He has since written the TV show Lone Star (which got canceled) and an upcoming series for NBC titled “Awake” about a family man who keeps waking up in different versions of his life. Scenic Route looks like it’s getting made soon.
Writer: Kyle Killen
Details: 8-04-11 draft (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

I will say this about Kyle Killen. He has fans. There are people who absolutely love this guy. In a medium where there aren’t many original voices, people see him as one of the few who speak to them. I didn’t overly heart The Beaver (the script – haven’t seen the movie). But I’ll be the first to admit the voice was original. I’d never seen somebody combine that level of darkness with that type of humor before. It probably would’ve made a lot more money if Mel Gibson hadn’t hit his “Cuckoo” time of year right before release.

Scenic Route follows two former college friends, now in their late 20s, who are driving cross-country to rekindle their friendship. Or I should say, Carter is trying to rekindle their friendship. Carter is a writer, which of course means he’s unshaven and a little overweight. Carter is the definition of an ‘artiste.’ He believes in suffering for your art. He believes in sticking it to the system. He believes in following your own path. Which is why Carter is broke and living out of his car.

Mitchell is the opposite. He once used to be like Carter. But that was back in college, when we were all like Carter (Oh man. I miss those days). Mitchell went and got married, got himself a respectable job, and now pulls down a 6 figure salary. Mitchell didn’t want to go on this trip, and all indicators point to him not wanting to hang out with Carter at all. If it were up to him, Carter would drift off into a faded memory, like everyone else from college.

Anyway, the two are driving along the “scenic route” of the Mojave desert when all of a sudden their car breaks down. Up until that point, they hadn’t been saying much, and that’s because Mitchell’s been sleeping. But now that crucial decisions need to be made, Mitchell has no choice but to talk to Carter. And that’s when the conversation begins.

Almost immediately, Carter starts attacking Mitchell’s life. He’s convinced Mitchell hates being married, hates his wife, and hates his boring 9-5 job. Mitchell shoots back that he’s being attacked for life choices by someone who lives out of his car.

And the two start arguing. And arguing. And arguing. And then talking. And then reminiscing. And then talking some more. And then arguing. And then a little more arguing. And that…my friends….is Scenic Route. It’s about two guy stuck on the side of the road arguing.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. Later on, some bad things happen and it looks like they’re going to be stranded out here forever. But really, this is a two-man show with a hell of a lot of dialogue. In other words, it’s the kind of script I tell you guys not to write. So why was Kyle able to sell it? Because his first script topped the Black List. And he got two TV shows made. And a lot of people think he’s the next great original voice. That’s why he was able to sell Scenic Route. But let’s pretend for a moment that he didn’t have those successes. In fact, let’s pretend this script is from an unknown. Was it any good?

If you’re going to write a dialogue heavy script, you better be good with dialogue. Kyle Killen is pretty darn good with dialogue. I mean he’s no Tarantino but the discussions here, the way these two interact, the rhythm, the sentence construction, the subject matter, the word choices – definitely better than most of the scripts you read. And just to pimp one of my articles from a few weeks ago, the main thing that’s fueling this dialogue – making it work – is the conflict between the two characters. Not only do these guys disagree on just about every possible way to live, but there was conflict even before they started talking.

At the heart of every movie needs to be one or several unresolved relationships – relationships that start off looking like there’s no possible chance they’ll ever be resolved – but then over the course of the movie, common ground is found. If you aren’t trying to fix relationships IN SOME WAY, there’s a good chance your second act is going to be borrrrrrrr-ing.

Obviously, this entire movie is built on the unresolved relationship between Carter and Mitchell. These two drifted apart over the years and Carter isn’t happy about it. He wants to bring this friendship back together. And there, my friends, is the goal. Carter wants his friend back in his life. That’s what he’s trying to accomplish. But is it enough?

Usually, movies use a more dominant “plot goal” to form the bulk of the entertainment (40 Year Old Virgin is to get laid, Karate Kid is to defeat the bullies, Stand By Me is to find the dead body) and the relationship goal is secondary. So without that added security blanket, Scenic Route gambles that its unresolved relationship will be enough to entertain you.

Luckily, Kyle makes the wise decision to hit on a theme that resonates with a lot of people. “Take the safe route in life or follow your dream (the ‘scenic’ route)?” Pretty much everyone has a strong opinion on this and it’s something that resonates with creative people in particular, as we often struggle with our choice to give up the safe existence to follow a dream that has no guarantees, that’s dependent on a talent we may or may not have. For that reason, a lot of the conversation here (Is a six-figure salary worth a boring predictable life?) resonates.

But let’s not ignore the obvious. There are lots of “scenes of death” in this script. It’s the reason why a large majority of people, specifically mainstream audiences, will avoid this film like the plague. If they were to stumble into this theater by accident, they’d probably keep waiting for something to “happen,” and be baffled when nothing did. The art-house crowd is a little more forgiving in that department so they might go with it, but I’ve already received e-mails from people saying about Scenic Route: “It’s two fucking guys talking for two hours! Nothing happens! Most boring script ever!” And that’s a fair argument.

However, you’ll notice that the script picks up when something happens to one of the characters late in the screenplay. It’s the most exciting part of the story and the reason is, there’s finally a clear goal. Character A has to figure out what to do with Character B. This is why I preach goals so much. Whenever you add one – whenever there’s something a character DESPERATELY NEEDS TO ACHIEVE, the story almost always picks up.

I would never recommend writing a script like this. And I completely understand anyone who hates it. But there’s just enough energy and uncertainty to keep the average patient person turning the pages. Scenic Route has some sort of X-factor going for it – a unique trait I can’t quite put my finger on. I wanted to find out what happened next, which is why I found this worth the read.

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: A simple way to build an entertaining unresolved relationship is to have one person want something in the relationship (usually to fix it) and the other person to resist. Now you have conflict. Now you have entertaining scenes whenever the two are together. Cal desperately trying to get Rose to love him in Titanic. Mickey Rourke desperately trying to earn his daughter’s trust again in The Wrestler. Ethan Hawke trying to get Denzel Washington to like him in Training Day. That’s the method used here in Scenic Route and it’s used well.