Genre: Contained Thriller/Found Footage
Premise: A group of detectives try to piece together a mass murder on a Vegas shuttle van via the video taken from the passengers.
About: Evidence sold as a naked spec (no attachments – hardest type of spec to sell) earlier this year for low six figures I believe. John Swetnam, the writer, is on Twitter and has tweeted his frustration over selling TWO specs now (he just sold Category 6 – another found footage script) and still having to live on a budget. That said, he apparently likes to burn both ends of the candle, flying into various cities and partying his ass off until the sun comes up. We definitely need more partying writers so do yo thang John.
Writer: John Swetnam
Details: 93 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).

Changed today’s review at the last second! I was getting sick of the heavy stuff. Needed something light and fluffy.

Late last year a writer asked me, “Should I write a found footage script? Or is that trend over?” I thought for a long time and finally answered, “You know, I think the found footage thing is about dead.” Turns out I was wrong. We had that silly Apollo 24 found footage film. We have that found footage film coming out about kids with superpowers. We’re already on a third Paranormal Activity film. Evidence sold earlier in the year. Swetnam sold “Category 6” (about dudes going into crazy storms) a few weeks ago. I’m starting to wonder if found footage films are like rap. Everybody kept calling rap a trend in the 80s, yet it just kept on going, like the Energizer bunny. Could found footage films become a legitimate genre? I’m done trying to be Nostradamus so I’ll let you guys decide.

We’re in the middle of the Nevada desert – a shuttle van smoldering at the side of the road with a huge hole in the side. Up ahead, an abandoned gas station has been blown to bits. There are bodies and pieces of bodies everywhere.

Nevada cops are pissed. No precinct likes mass murders on their watch. But luckily, they have a couple of survivors and a lot of video. One of the survivors, Rachel, a 20-something aspiring director, taped most of the ordeal with a handicam. There are also a couple of cell phone videos and a flip phone from the other passengers. It’s not every day that video of a crime lands in the authorities hands so they might actually be able to solve this quickly. The question is. Will they solve it correctly?

Rachel’s going on this Vegas trip with her best friend, actress Lean Hoodplatt. Despite having a weird last name, she’s gorgeous and talented and ready to take Hollywood by storm. But she’s having a tough time in her personal life, having recently rejected her boyfriend, Tyler’s, proposal. She’s convinced him to come on the Vegas trip, though, in hopes of patching things up.

There’s also 18 year old Steven, a goth-ish loner who’s using Vegas to escape his controlling mom. There’s Vicki, a single mother who wants to upgrade her stripping career. There’s Bitter Ben, the bus driver. And finally there’s the mysterious “Old Woman,” a sloppily dressed 50-something who’s running away from something. We just don’t know what yet.

As the primary video is from director Rachel, the first bits show her and Leann preparing for the trip. We then jump to the van, which somewhere between LA and Vegas blows a tire. Luckily, there’s an abandoned gas station up the road where they can hang out until someone finds them. But upon getting there, PEOPLE START DYING!

Evidence actually cuts back and forth between the footage and the Forensics Technology Room where the detectives try to weave this complicated puzzle together. Like any good whodunit, the prime suspects keep changing. At first we think it’s creepy 50 year old woman – cause the world is racist against the oldies, you know? Then we learneth that she has some mentally fucked up estranged husband, and that HE might have been waiting for them at the gas station – although I don’t know how the duo knew exactly where the van would blow a tire. But that’s neither here nor there.

What is here AND there is somebody in a coat and a soldering mask, which means even when they do get the killer on tape, they don’t know who it is. Although at least one thing is clear. The killer is one of the people on the bus. Who is it? Why are they killing everyone? You’ll have to read until the shocking twist ending to find out.

Evidence is like a walk on the first day of spring. The sun’s out. The air is brisk. There’s a nice breeze. But it’s still a walk. You’re still just…you know…walking. So it’s not THAT exciting. That said, you’re glad you did it.

The other day I railed on Black because I didn’t know ANYTHING about the characters. Nothing. And since I didn’t know anything, I didn’t care what the hell happened to them. Some commenters pointed out that people don’t go to horror movies for character development. That I agree with. But they do often LEAVE horror movies disappointed and don’t know why. The reason why is almost always because the characters sucked, so they didn’t care what happened to them.

Evidence gives us the PERFECT amount of character development for a movie like this. You don’t have time to get too in depth. Too much backstory can get in the way of a fast-paced horror film. But there’s still SOMETHING.

I know that Rachel wants to be a movie director. I know Leann wants to be an actress. I know there’s some recent drama between Leann and her boyfriend. I know that the stripper lost custody of her child. I know that Steven, the goth dude, had a falling out with his mother. None of it is too weighty or original. BUT IT’S THERE. It makes these characters more than names on a page. So I cared a lot more about these people than I did about Zombie Panda and the Panderettes.

One thing I’ve noticed with found footage is that it allows you to jump around a lot more freely than normal films and therefore keep the story moving at a breakneck pace. Wanna skip over a boring part of a conversation? Just pretend like the characters didn’t record that part. Movies are formatted to skip over the dumb parts as it is. But the found footage angle allows you to take this practice to the extreme. It’s the perfect device for our patience-challenged culture.

And you might not have noticed this. But the found footage angle actually allowed Swetnam to pull the “Crazy first scene than CUT TO ONE DAY EARLIER” device without it being annoying! Chances are you didn’t even notice it! That’s because it was an organic result of using the video tapes. Going backwards was a natural part of the way things were set up. A good reminder that annoying story devices aren’t annoying if they’re organic to the story.

But the most important triumph of this script is it really keeps you guessing. I’d already been told there was a twist ending. Yet still, I had no idea who the killer was. As each page went by, I only found myself more confused. “Well it can’t be THAT guy” I’d say, even though I’d been positive it WAS that guy. That happened like three times.

Does the script have problems? Well, there’s no doubt it feels “light.” Now that’s the kind of movie it is. It’s not trying to change the world or anything. But still, even with the character development, I felt Evidence leaving my brain almost immediately after it was over.

And I’m still trying to figure out which route this moron Shuttle driver took. I’ve driven that LA to Vegas route a few times and I have no idea how you’d get on an abandoned road in the middle of nowhere. There’s an interstate that goes directly from one city to the other. Maybe I missed something and they got off the main road for some reason, but if not, that definitely needs to be figured out.

Evidence was fun. A bag full of candy on a rainy day. Should make a good return investment for whoever makes it.

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

What I learned: This is a good example of writing for the market. Being aware of what audiences want, what studios are looking for, and giving them that. I don’t think enough writers approach it this way. Amateur Friday writer Adam Zopf made a great point in the comments section of his review – You don’t have to change the world with your script. In fact, if you’re trying to change the world with your script, there’s a good chance you’re writing a really boring script. Come up with a marketable idea, create some characters that you personally connect with to give it some depth, and then write the best damn script you can. I see too many good writers wallowing in obscurity because they’re trying to write the next Academy Award winning film. Save that stuff for when you’re established. Right now, write something that’s going to get people excited and break you in.

Note to readers: Guys, I know it’s difficult to discuss this script without discussing the ending, but I’m going to ask you to refrain from spoiling the ending. Most writers are fine with me reviewing scripts but get upset when a big twist is spoiled.Thank you.  :)

Genre: Thriller/Horror
Premise: At their ten-year reunion, a formerly bullied outcast decides to enact revenge on the cool kids who made his life miserable.
About: Every Friday, I review a script from the readers of the site. If you’re interested in submitting your script for an Amateur Review, send it in PDF form, along with your title, genre, logline, and why I should read your script to Carsonreeves3@gmail.com. Keep in mind your script will be posted in the review (feel free to keep your identity and script title private by providing an alias and fake title). Also, it’s a good idea to resubmit every couple of weeks so that your submission stays near the top of the pile.
Writer: Adam Zopf
Details: 116 pages (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).

Let me give you some background on this read. It was 10:30pm. I was preparing to read my Amateur Friday script for the week. Chose one with a good premise. 13 spelling mistakes by page four. Went back to the well. Pulled out the next one. I had to read the first sentence four times to understand it. Threw it out. Pulled out another one in which the writer promised it was better than famous movies A, B, and C. By page 5 I realized I’d drifted into a daydream about Uncrustables. I tried to keep reading but it was like swimming through bricks. There wasn’t a friendly sentence in the lot.

I considered the possibility that I was too tired to read and decided to call it a night. Then I thought, ehhhhh, maybe I’ll try one more, and begrudgingly picked up Reunion. It’s not that I didn’t like the premise. It was okay. But I’ve read a lot of these high school thriller scripts and they always end up being lame. Advanced Placement was a perfect example. And that was one of the BETTER ones. So I ain’t gonna lie. I was expecting bad things from Reunion.

My fears were verified almost immediately when I was barraged with these huge paragraphs in the opening pages (Adam, you gotta get rid of these). I was doing that thing where your head falls back against the chair, you stare up at the ceiling, and you plea to the Script Gods to make it end.

But then…a strange thing happened. My exhaustion started to dissipate. Those huge paragraphs? They evaporated like snow on a warm Spring day. The words started to flow together like chocolate and caramel. The characters, who at first seemed cliché and boring, started to grow on me. Most surprising of all, I wasn’t thinking about Uncrustables anymore. Which is just not possible once I start thinking about Uncrustables. When it was all said and done, I realized that I had just read the best Amateur Friday script I’d ever read on the site.

John Doe is your average 28 year old dude. Holds down a normal job. Lives a normal life. Type of guy you’d pass on a busy street and not think twice about. It so happens that John’s just received an invitation to his 10-year High School reunion. Although it’s not clear to us why yet, John looks like he’s been waiting for this invitation for a looonnnng time.

Jason and Maria are the perfect couple – high school sweethearts who never lost the spark for each other. Jason was the popular athlete and Maria the prettiest girl. These two also receive their reunion invitation, but while Maria’s thrilled to mix it up with all her old friends, Jason’s kind of moved on with his life. He’ll go, but only because Maria wants to.

They get to the banquet hall (not in the high school) and within minutes the gang is back together again. There’s Vicki, little Miss Perfect and former valedictorian. There’s Derek, the name you see in the dictionary when you look up “meathead.” There’s his meathead brother-in-arms Wes. There’s Quincy, the smart one of the bunch. Ryan, the face-man of the group. And finally the desperate duo of Molly and Claire. Never as popular as Maria or Vicki, yet 5 times as likely to abuse their power.

During the reunion, the group gets a mysterious invitation to continue the party back at the high school. They look at it as a spontaneous opportunity (just like they used to do in high school!) and head over there. It’s there that they find a big fat keg in the middle of the gym floor. They get to drinking but pretty soon find themselves woozy. They pass out, and the next thing you know wake up in desks with collars around their necks.

The P.A. system sputters to life and a mysterious man claims to have Meathead Derek with him. If they don’t follow his orders, Derek will be hurt. They of course think this is all a joke. But there’s something unsettling about the voice. He explains that the collars they’re wearing are a combination of poison and acid. If they try and run, they will die a painful ugly death. Hmmm. Now everybody’s getting worried. This IS a joke, isn’t it?

John reminds them of who he was in high school. Grossly overweight. 300+ pounds. And these guys let him know it every single day. They’d scream out “FAT PIG!” and squeal whenever he was nearby. Every day for him was a nightmare. And it was all their fault.

So he’s giving them a chance to redeem themselves. If they can tell him his real name, he’ll let them go. But until then, he’s going to put them through a series of “tests” so they can learn what it was like to live every single moment in fear.

We go from classroom to pool to woodshop to almost every location in the school, and each time, they’re tested. Sometimes the tests are as simple as answering questions. Other times they’re as complicated as swimming to the bottom of a pool teeming with piranhas. And John Doe is no joke. If you don’t do your job, you die. And members of the crew start dropping like flies. Will anybody survive this? Will they stop John Doe’s insane experiment? Or will he eliminate them all?

Okay, as I indicated before, I expected a really shitty script here. It’s just hard to make anyone believe in or care about a situation that’s so obviously manufactured. I mean, something like this would never happen in real life. So the challenge of getting an audience to suspend their disbelief is immense. Which is probably the biggest achievement here. Just the fact that Adam got me to believe in this scenario was amazing.

In my opinion, what made the script work so well is that I was torn between who I was rooting for. I mean we have this crazy psycho lunatic executing these innocent people left and right, and yet as the story goes on, and we learn WHY he’s doing this, we slowly start to root for John. I mean I’ve never experienced such an intense divide in who I was rooting for before – the “hero” or the “villain.”  I could make an argument for both sides.

And that doesn’t happen unless the character work is great. And the character work is just really strong here. John Doe is the kind of character you will continue thinking about for weeks after you finish this screenplay. Why? Well, because Adam decided to ignore one of those crusty screenwriting rules all of us screenplay enthusiasts preach: Avoid flashbacks at all costs.

Reunion THRIVES because of its flashbacks. It’s in these flashbacks that we experience John’s life in high school. We see his loneliness. We see what it was like for him going to school every day. People laughing at him. People calling him “Fat Pig” wherever he goes. And because Adam tells it in basically the first person, we feel like WE’RE the Fat Pig. We feel like WE’RE being made fun of. It’s a brilliant decision. Because we really start to identify with and understand John. And that’s where great scripts separate themselves – by creating complicated complex characters. John is KILLING people. So then why is there a part of us that wants him to succeed? Why is there a part of us that understands him? It makes us uncomfortable. It confuses us. It frustrates us. In other words, it makes us FEEL something. It makes us THINK about something. Most scripts just wanna make things explode. Which is why Reunion is so powerful.

I think what I liked best about Reunion though is that it never quite went how you thought it was going to go. For example, I just assumed the flashbacks were going to be a series of repetitive ventures showing us again and again that John got bullied. Instead, there’s an entire STORY within the backstory. There’s an arc. John actually has a heroic moment. The school actually falls in love with him. It’s stuff like this that really separates the men from the boys. If you can surprise the people who read everything, you’re doing a good job.

But it’s the last image of those flashbacks that will stay with you. It’s that moment that will have you thinking about Reunion long after you’ve put it down. It’s the reason you’ll find yourself rooting for John to take out the last of these hyenas, even though you know it’s wrong.

Now the script isn’t bulletproof. It does get sloppy in places and some of the choices are questionable. I was not a huge fan of the math scene. I understand that we have to start small and build up with each lesson. But it felt a little silly with them sitting at desks with their lives in the balance over a math question. And the piranha scene was a bit much. I mean, how do you even get several hundred piranhas into a high school without anybody noticing? It was silly.

That’s the challenge with this screenplay. It’s a situation that would never ever happen in real life. So anything that reminds us of that should be avoided at all costs. I understand the use of the pool. You need some cinematic elements to this and if everything is in a classroom, it will get stale. But there has to be a more believable way to use the pool. Maybe he weighs one of them down and they’re pulled to the bottom of the pool and have to be saved. I don’t know. But come on. Piranhas?

Other than that, I loved this script. Fat Pig is a character for the ages. And you know what? Not only is this the best Amateur Friday script I’ve ever read, but it’s something that could actually be made – be marketed. People would go see this I think. If you’re a producer out there, I would jump on this before it gets snatched up.

Script link: Reunion

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

What I learned: Tell a story with your flashbacks. I think the flashbacks that bother me most are the isolated ones. When they’re unconnected one-offs that serve as lazy ways to convey backstory. But when they’re their own story, each one building off the previous, then we’ll be looking forward to them. The backstory becomes a story in itself. This is one of the better ways to use flashbacks in my opinion.

I hope you don’t think you’re going to learn a lot about dialogue in this article. Dialogue is a constant battle for me. It’s something I don’t totally understand. The reason for this is that dialogue is the one aspect of screenwriting you can’t truly “break down.” You can’t divide dialogue into three acts. You can’t add a character arc to dialogue. You can’t give dialogue backstory. You simply write down the voices in your head. And while some people have interesting voices to draw from, others don’t.

The funny thing is, dialogue looks so damn easy from afar! In fact, it’s why most people get into screenwriting. They think, “I can write better dialogue than THAT!” So they dive in, write up 120 usually autobiographical pages (likely the crazy adventures of them and their friends – “Our life is just like a movie!!!”), show it to their inner circle, get a bunch of polite but suspiciously distant “I liked its” punctuated by one brave soul who’s willing to say what everybody’s thinking: “I don’t get it. It’s just a bunch of people talking.”

Ohhhh. You learn your first lesson. Dialogue actually has to have a POINT! It actually has to move the story forward. Why didn’t somebody tell me? Quentin Tarantino has ten minute scenes about Royals with Cheese. Why can’t I do that? Because you’re not Quentin Tarantino. You’re you. And “you” has to learn that within every scene of dialogue, there must be a purpose. In fact, you should be doing SEVERAL things with your dialogue at once. And that’s where we learn just how difficult dialogue is. Sure, if all you had to do was have characters talk, dialogue would be easy. Instead, there are five main things that need to be accomplished whenever characters speak. Let’s take a look at them.

MOVE THE STORY FORWARD – Every scene should have a point. It should be moving the plot along in some way. If a problem is introduced into your story and a scene goes by without the characters attempting to address that problem, guess what? You’re not moving your story forward. So when your characters are talking, make sure the majority of what they say centers around pushing their own goals and needs along. You do that, you’ll be pushing the story forward. If no one wants anything? If characters just talk about life and stuff? Your dialogue isn’t doing its job.

REVEAL CHARACTER – You want to use your dialogue to tell us more about your characters. Screenplays are short. They’re not like TV shows where you have hundreds of hours to delve into a character’s life. Therefore you have to sneak character development in wherever you can. Dialogue certainly isn’t the only way to do this, but it’s one way. If a character says he just spent three hours at the gym, that tells us he’s a workout freak. If a character always talks about his ex-girlfriend, that tells us he’s not over his ex-girlfriend. One of the big ways to reveal character through dialogue is to identify your character’s fatal flaw and keep hitting on it throughout the script. Look at Rocky. Here’s a character who doesn’t fully believe in himself. So we get a scene where he expresses fear at the idea of fighting Apollo. We get a scene where he nervously flirts with Adrian. We get a scene where Mick tells him he’s a bum. The dialogue is constantly reminding us that Rocky doesn’t believe in himself yet, which is a key part of his character.

EXPOSITION – Exposition is the worst. It’s hard enough to make dialogue sound good on its own. Now we have to waste it on logistical story elements every 8 minutes? It’s like trying to pick up a girl and then her disapproving friend walks up. The words just don’t come out as easily. This is why the trick with exposition is to simplify what you need to say and convey it in as few words as possible. Exposition is always going to trip up your dialogue a LITTLE bit. But at least this way you minimize the damage.

KEEP IT UNDER 2 PAGES – To me, this is one of the hardest things about dialogue. If we had 5-6 pages for every conversation, dialogue would be as easy as accusing Justin Bieber of fathering your baby (baby baby ohhhhh…). But the average film scene is 2 minutes long. 2 MINUTES! That’s only 2 pages for your characters to say everything they gotta say. This is why new writers hear this critique so much: “Cut cut cut cut cut.” You gotta cut everything down to its bare essence because you don’t have time in your scene to include all the bullshit. Sure, some scenes are longer than others.  A five minute dialogue scene is not unheard of.  But it’s still rare.  Which means learning how to scrunch all your dialogue into a very small space. 

ENTERTAIN – This is the scariest part of all when it comes to dialogue. After you do all that stuff – the story, the exposition, the characters, the minimizing – the dialogue still has to entertain us! It still has to sound like two people talking in real life, even though in real life, every one of these conversations would probably go on for more than an hour! That means going back, smoothing it all out, editing it, rearranging it, adding a joke or two, and continuously asking yourself, “Does this sound like two people really talking?” Until the answer is “Yes,” keep rewriting it.

Now that we know the stipulations working against us for writing brilliant dialogue, let’s talk about the tools you can use to fight these inhibitors. I don’t have all the answers. I fight against dialogue every day. That said, I know these five tools help improve dialogue.

COME IN LATE, LEAVE EARLY
This was mentioned in the comments the other day and it’s a great tip – especially for beginners. Come into your scene as late as possible and leave your scene as early as possible. In other words, only give us the meat of the scene. Not the fat. Say your characters are meeting at a coffee shop. Tom is getting the coffee while Sarah waits at the table. Tom says, “What do you want again!?” “A double mocha decaf!” “Large?!” “Uhh, yeah, large!” Tom waits, grabs the coffees, walks over, sits down, a moment for the two to get settled, they ease into a conversation…and then SOMEWHERE around here they actually start talking about the story. UHHHHHHH…NO! Why the hell would you include all that irrelevant nonsense?? Start with them ALREADY AT THE TABLE WITH THEIR COFFEES. Catch them five minutes into their conversation, right when they’re talking about the important stuff. That’s what I mean by “Come in late.” Then, as soon as you’ve met the point of your scene, get out. Once Obi-Wan and Luke agree on a transport fee with Han in the Cantina scene, they don’t sit around for another five minutes chatting about the weather on Kashyyyk. We cut away. Now obviously there’s some flexibility in this rule. Sometimes you want William Wallace to take his time riding through the village, building up the suspense, before he BEATS DOWN the English. But for the most part, coming in late and getting out early will keep your dialogue focused and on point. You won’t write a bunch of boring shit if you only include the meat.

SET-UP
The best dialogue scenes are set up ahead of time by carefully building up your character’s goals, secrets, motivations, etc. You then place them in a scene (preferably with something at stake), and watch the dialogue write itself. For example, Joe and Jane talking about their friend’s wedding is boring. But if we find out beforehand that Jane plans to kill Joe in this scene, talking about that wedding becomes a lot more interesting. Paul meeting his potential father-in-law is mildly entertaining. But if Paul’s girlfriend tells him beforehand that she’ll never marry someone her father doesn’t approve of, now Paul meeting his father-in-law is SUPER entertaining. Watching Mick beg Rocky to be his coach is a strong scene no matter where it is in the film. But the reason it’s a classic is because we watched Mick kick Rock out of his gym and tell him he didn’t believe in him earlier. So if a scene isn’t working, go back in your script and see if you can set it up better. Once you find the right situation, the dialogue will write itself.

SUBTEXT/DRAMATIC IRONY
This is one of the best ways to improve your dialogue. Give one character a secret. Give both characters a secret. Or tell the audience something the characters don’t know. If you do any of these things, you’ll create subtext, unspoken words beneath the text. If we know that Frank plans to break up with JoJo, then anything they talk about before the break-up will have subtext. If Julie secretly likes Tom and the two accidentally get stuck in the bathroom at a party, anything they talk about (Math class, bird watching, dinosaurs) will have subtext. There are other ways to achieve subtext (which you guys are free to highlight in the comments section) but this approach tends to create the most powerful dialogue situations.

STAY AWAY FROM ON THE NOSE
When we first write dialogue for a scene, we often think literally. If a character asks, “Are you thirsty?” We might have the other character respond, “Yes. Could you get me some water?” That’s a very literal on-the-nose response. Most people talk in and around what they’re trying to say instead of saying exactly what they’re thinking. They use slang, sarcasm, manipulation, indifference, caution – any number of things – to keep the conversation off-center. Rarely does dialogue go down a straight path. So let’s ask that question again. “Are you thirsty?” A more interesting response might be, “No, my lips always dry up and bleed like this.” Your characters are not robots. Nobody speaks literally. So make sure you’re mucking up the dialogue and that no one is speaking on-the-nose.

KNOW YOUR FUCKING CHARACTERS (KYFC)
Writers hate doing character biographies because it takes so much damn time, but holy hell does it work. Why? Because the more you know about your character, the more specific you can make their dialogue. Bad dialogue is usually general – vague, non-specific. Rick comes home late one night and spots his roommate, Jed, on the couch. “What’s up man?” “Not much. How’d your day go?” “Shitty. I’m exhausted.” This is the most general boring conversation EVER. Let’s say I did some character biographies ahead of time though and found out that Rick is an aspiring actor and Jed is a compulsive gambler. Let’s try this again. (Rick stumbles in) “I’ve got two words: Fuck Stanislofsky.” “I need to borrow money.” Rick gives Jed a look. Jed: “What?? How was I supposed to know Vick would tear his MCL.” “I’m not giving you any more money.” “Come on. The Raiders are a sure thing.” It ain’t going to win any Academy awards but it’s certainly better than “How’d your day go?” Why? Because it’s SPECIFIC. It reveals character. It has the people in the scene saying things only they would say. Do your homework on your characters. I promise it will pay off.

And that’s all I got my friends. I know it’s not the end all article on dialogue but the truth is I don’t know everything about dialogue. Which is why I’m turning to you. Please. I want to learn. Tell me how YOU approach this aspect of screenwriting. What tips and tricks help you? This is the least defined area of screenwriting. Let’s try and crack it.

Genre: Thriller
Premise: Based on a true story, a local detective reluctantly accepts the case of the most notorious serial killer in Alaska’s history.
About: Scott Walker is from New Zealand. He made a big splash a few weeks back when he signed with WME as a writer/director/producer. Agencies seemed hot on him but I’m not sure what generated all that heat. Is he a commercial director? Did he direct a hot short? I’m not sure. But this is the project he wants to break in with. It will star John Cusack, Nicholas Cage, and Vanessa Hudgens.
Writer: Scott Walker
Details: 120 pages (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).

This is a great week here at Scriptshadow. We have three awesome scripts. Unfortunately, this is not one of them. I really wanted to like this. When I read the synopsis on Deadline it sounded great: “[Frozen Ground is about] the hunt for Alaska’s most notorious serial predator, Robert Hansen. John Cusack is playing Hansen, regarded in the community as a respected family man but who, in the span of 12 years, abducted more than 24 women, flew them into the Alaskan wilderness and hunted and murdered them.”

Exciting right? Um, well, yeah…IF that was what the script was about. But that is definitely not the script I read. If you forced me to come up with a real synopsis, it would look more like this: “An apathetic cop occasionally wanders around Anchorage, bumping into a troubled annoying girl who doesn’t want anything to do with him.” That’s a way more accurate breakdown of this screenplay. Read on at your own peril.

It’s 1983 in Anchorage Alaska. A local teenage hooker, Cindy Paulson, runs into a hotel screaming that she’s been assaulted. But since she’s a hooker, the cops don’t pay her much mind, letting her go and forgetting the whole thing.

Soonafter, police dig up the body of a young woman in the wilderness. The people of Anchorage aren’t happy. This apparently isn’t the first female body that’s been found. Somebody is out there abducting women, and they want the police to do something about it. But the police shrug it off, pointing out that most of the missing women are hookers or runaways and probably ran off on their own. The town is getting frustrated. They want the police to admit something’s wrong.

However when another girl is killed, the police have no choice but to act, and bring in Glenn Flothe, a hotshot detective. Unfortunately, Flothe isn’t interested in the case. He’s hanging up his spurs (or transferring, or something – it’s not clear) and the last thing he needs is a serial killer case because those things take, like, a long time n’ stuff.

But the chief strong-arms him into it and he reluctantly starts digging. Eventually he figures out that Cindy (the teenage hooker) was assaulted by this killer – which makes her the only victim that got away. So he starts following her around, getting to know the hooker lifestyle, since that’s the pool the killer’s drawing his victims from. Why a supposedly accomplished detective doesn’t know how the hooker trade works is beyond me. I’d think you’d run into a lot of hookers if you investigated murders for a living.

When we’re not with Flothe and Cindy, we’re with Hansen, our killer, who it turns out is living a double life. He’s got a picture perfect family in the suburbs and he’s got a secret cabin in the wilderness where he keeps these girls before setting them free in the forest and hunting them. Although I don’t remember much hunting to be honest. I remember one girl got away accidentally and he shot her before she got to the fourth tree. But I don’t remember any specific hunting. Of course by the time I’d made it to page 60, my head was about to explode due to all of the confusing long descriptive paragraphs, so I may have missed it.

So how is Frozen Ground?

My guess is that Scott spends a lot more time in the directing world than the screenwriting world because if you were to put this side-by-side with an amateur script, I’m not sure you’d be able to tell the difference. The character count is way too high. The paragraphs are long and complicated to get through. And there were just an endless amount of clichés. There isn’t a single choice in this movie we haven’t seen in the serial killer genre before.

We have a serial killer who kills young women. He’s currently keeping a young woman captive. We have a detective who’s about to quit/move/retire (it wasn’t clear which). I’m okay with using SOME clichés in a movie because it’s impossible to avoid all of them. But when every single choice is unoriginal, it’s hard to muster up any interest in the story.

Then you have the main character, Flothe. There is absolutely nothing interesting or memorable about this character. He might as well be invisible. He has no distinctive traits, no memorable qualities, no meaningful relationships, nothing to give us a sense of who he is. It’s been a long time since I’ve read a character this plain. The only purpose he seems to serve is to move the plot forward. There isn’t an ounce of depth or exploration in him at all. It’s fascinating in a way. I’m not sure someone could come up with a character this unremarkable if they tried.

There is no urgency to the story. For a while, Hansen has a girl at his place. So there’s a momentary shred of urgency in her storyline. But it’s never played up. It’s never pushed upon. Then, (spoiler) midway through the script, Hansen kills her, which leaves no reason for Flothe to hurry up and find this guy. That’s one of the reasons Silence Of The Lambs worked so well. They needed to get to Buffalo Bill before he killed this woman. If there’s no one to save, where’s the drive? What’s pushing the story forward? The story fell off a cliff after that happened.

I wish I could say something good about this script. I suppose the goal is clear. That they have to find the killer. But even that seems neutered for some reason. We just don’t care about Flothe. There’s nothing about him you can latch onto, you can root for. In Lambs, one of the reasons we were so attached to Clarice Starling’s plight was that she was the underdog. Nobody believed in her. Women don’t usually make it in a job like this. Every minute of that movie, she had to prove herself, and we felt that struggle as she chased Buffalo Bill. Here, Flothe goes after the killer, just because. Ho-hum. It’s his job so why not? He doesn’t even WANT to go after the killer. He’s forced into it. This is why I always say, make sure your hero DESPERATELY WANTS to achieve his goal. If he doesn’t, why do we care if he succeeds or not?

Look, this might be a really early draft. But pretty much everything needs to be changed in this script. We need a main character with more depth. We need a main character who cares. We need urgency. We need more clarity in the storyline. We can’t have so much needless wandering around by the characters. The bad guy needs to do something more interesting than simply holding a girl captive, which we’ve seen 8 billion times in these movies. I couldn’t get onboard with anything here. This script wasn’t for me.

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

What I learned: One of the reasons this is such a pedestrian treatment of the serial killer genre is because our main character has so little at stake. What does Flothe personally gain if he solves this case? Nothing. He didn’t want the case in the first place. What does he lose if he doesn’t solve it? Nothing. He gets to get the hell out of here like he wanted to all along. There’s no immediate threat from the killer either. He probably won’t strike for another 6 months. You can also ensure your safety as a woman by not being a hooker. Just don’t go sell yourself for money and you’re safe. So there’s no threat to the general public. There wasn’t nearly enough at stake here for any of the parties involved for me to care.

Genre: Drama/Sports/Thriller
Premise: Based on a true story, Olympic Gold Medal wrestler Mark Schultz accepts an invitation to train at the facilities of a reclusive wrestling fanatic. What starts out as a dream opportunity slowly turns into a nightmare.
About: Steve Carell is starring in this one with Channing Tatum. Bennet Miller, the director of Moneyball and Capote, will direct. For those of you who don’t know, Miller was one of the very first directors (maybe the first?) to accept the digital medium, shooting his first film on digital tape. The film, The Cruise, was a small documentary, but a fun little film that followed around a semi-crazy tour guide in New York City. Definitely worth a rental if you can find it. Today’s writing pair is an out of left field duo, particularly for a high profile release. E. Max Frye hasn’t written anything since 2003, when he knocked off a TV movie titled, “Second Nature.” And Dan Futterman is known more for his acting than his writing, appearing in TV shows Judging Amy, Will and Grace, and Sex and The City (although he did write Miller’s “Capote.”) I also noticed that Futterman starred in one of my favorite spec screenplay success stories, “When Trumpets Fade.”
Writers: E. Max Frye and Dan Futterman (story by E. Max Frye, Dan Futterman and Bennet Miller)
Details: July 1, 2008 draft – 124 pages (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).

In case you weren’t aware, Scriptshadow is the unofficial all things Channing Tatum website! Pretty soon you’ll be able to buy Channing Tatum dolls, unwashed Channing Tatum T-shirts (complete with sweat stains), and clay molds of Channing Tatum’s abs. I’m having a clearance on Robert Pattinson Chia Pets by the way. Only $7.99 with shipping.

27 year old Mark Schultz is a world champion wrestler who won a gold medal at the 1984 Los Angeles Olympic games. Mark is an intense no-nonsense guy. Even though he’s achieved what 99.99999% of the world could only dream of, he’s already set on his next goal, winning gold at the 1988 Olympics in Seoul.

The thing is, being a world champion wrestler – even the best wrestler in the world – doesn’t pay a lot. In fact, Mark makes $5000 a year as an assistant coach at the University of Wisconsin. He works under his brother, 31 year old Dave Schultz, who also won a gold medal at Los Angeles.

Dave is the more popular of the two brothers. No matter what Mark does, it’s always Dave who gets the spotlight. It doesn’t bother Mark much. He loves his brother more than anything. But it would be nice if people would acknowledge him every once in awhile. He did, you know, win a gold medal too.

After Mark’s let go due to budget cuts, he’s tasked with figuring out how to train with no income. Out of desperation, he puts together a lazily edited set of training tapes but he may as well be trying to sell Kim Khardashian-Kris Humpries T-shirts. Nobody’s buying.

Then, out of nowhere, he gets a call from a man claiming to represent John Du Pont. Du Pont’s family is extraordinarily rich and owns a huge piece of land known as Foxcatcher Farms. Du Pont is a big wrestling fan and it’s come to his attention just how little money the U.S. wrestling team has to train. So he constructs his own facility and asks Mark to head it up. Anybody Mark recruits, he’ll pay them full salaries and living expenses!

Mark can’t believe his luck and the first thing he does is call his brother to join him. But Dave has a family and is wary about the invitation. The question he asks Mark will prove to be prophetic: “What does DuPont get out of it?”

When we meet Du Pont, we immediately sense something’s off about the guy. One moment he’s excited, the next reserved. Sometimes he’s obsessive, other times chummy. One day he wants to blend into the background, the next he wants to be the star. But all that matters to Mark is that Du Pont wants to win the gold as much as he does.

But as the months go by, Du Pont becomes more obsessive about the team. He starts participating in the practices, and names himself as one of the coaches – paying a hefty donation to the wrestling Federation for the privilege. It becomes even creepier when we find out Du Pont doesn’t do anything for a living. He’s never had a job. All of this money comes from his nearly dead senile mother.

Du Pont starts hounding Mark about his brother, Dave. Why hasn’t he recruited him yet? Why isn’t he out here with the team? What at first seems like a suggestion has become an obsession. Where the fuck is Dave?

Eventually, Du Pont makes Dave an offer he can’t refuse, and Mark finds out the truth. Du Pont was recruiting Dave a full two months before he called Mark. When Dave said no, Du Pont recruited Mark in hopes that he would convince his brother to come. This whole façade was just to get Dave here.

But Dave’s arrival doesn’t go as Du Pont expected. Dave and Mark become intensely close as they train, and Du Pont is sort of left out in the cold. Neither Dave nor Mark will give him the time of day. This doesn’t sit well with Du Pont, who decides to go to extreme measures to rectify the situation.

I don’t know what it was about this screenplay, but it got under my skin. Du Pont got under my skin. There was something so damn creepy about the guy. I really wish Channing Tatum wasn’t in this because if they found a worthy actor to play across from Carell, I think Carell could win an Oscar for this role. Du Pont is just a fascinating character.

I’ve already told you guys this but it bears repeating. Actors love playing characters like Du Pont. It allows them to flex their acting muscles. They get to play shy, aggressive, aloof, angry, sweet, passive-aggressive. Think about it, if you were an actor, wouldn’t you want to play that role as opposed to, say, a one-note character? Someone who’s just angry all the time? Or happy all the time? Actors love to be challenged. So write them a challenging role.

But what’s unique about Foxcatcher is that both lead characters are weird. Mark is also an odd duck who’s way too obsessed with wrestling, to the point where he has no love life, no real friends, no anything. I’m used to there being a “straight man” in a dynamic like this, but there is no straight man. That made each scene between the two fascinating. I was never quite sure what each character would do, what they would say. I’m used to scenes that all read the same. But that’s what was so cool about Foxcatcher. There was no “same.”

And there were just some really creepy sequences in this script. For example, Du Pont enters this over 50 wrestling tournament and starts training with the Olympians for it. Mark travels with him as his coach, and we see Du Pont wrestling these other men his age, but they’re clearly letting him win. That’s when we realize the entire tournament is a sham, paid for by Du Pont so he can win. Every single one of these wrestlers is being paid to lose to Du Pont. It’s just so odd and sad and unsettling.

Foxcatcher also has that train wreck thing going for it – sort of like yesterday’s screenplay. But you get the sense the wreck is going to be much bigger here, and it is. This is a true story so you can look up what happens for yourself. Foxcatcher is a strange exploration of mental illness and obsession that will stay with you for days. I actually had a dream about this screenplay after I read it, which never happens. That’s how big of an impact it left on me. Fascinating stuff.

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

What I learned: If possible, send your characters into a meal scene with an unsettled issue. Late in the screenplay, Du Pont slaps Mark in front of the entire team. He then disappears and Mark can’t get a hold of him for days. Mark is then invited to a big meal with some people Du Pont is trying to impress. All Mark wants to do is talk to Du Pont about what happened, but Du Pont wants nothing to do with it (conflict!). This adds all this tension and subtext to the dinner scene that would never be there if the two characters were hunky-dorey and happy with one another.