Genre: Action
Premise: (from writer) Halloween night, 108 mercenaries seize Manhattan to hold it hostage for 48 hours and a PTSD suffering Iraq war vet must find redemption and save the day.
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).
Writer: Sun-kyu Park
Details: 119 pages

I got two words for you. South Korea represent. Assuming we can classify South Korea as one word. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen a good action script. In fact, I don’t see many straight action scripts on the spec market these days at all. Or at least any that sell. I don’t know if companies figure they don’t need scripts for action movies anymore or the straight-to-video action market is so strong that nobody bothers making big-budget action movies anymore. That can mean only one thing. That the straight action film (Die Hard, Speed, Cliffhanger) is primed for a comeback. Is Siege Of Man that comeback?

To say that Siege Of Man starts off with a bang would be like saying Cameron Crowe casually enjoys placing his favorite songs in his movies. That is to say, a MASSIVE UNDERSTATEMENT. It’s clear after reading the opening sequence in Siege that Sun-kyu is disturbed, unstable, and insane. Lucky for us, because this has gotta be one of the more memorable openings to a screenplay I’ve read in a long time.

We’re in Baghdad. A group of soldiers prepping for another day in the heart of danger. There’s Max, a roguish photographer. There’s Joe, a blue collar corporal. And there’s Chang, a soldier just trying to make it through the day. The group is driving around the city when they’re surprise-attacked. There’s chaos and shooting and bombs and cars blowing up and pedestrians being used as decoys and even though these guys are prepped daily for these types of situations, this one is totally out of control.

At some point a man named Henri The Mercenary comes to them like an angel from the heavens and ushers them to safety. Or at least tries to. As they get to their helicopters, Henri doesn’t make it, is captured, and thrown inside a Baghdad movie theater. Just before he’s about to get tortured like no other human in history, a hardcore military man named Ash walks in and saves him. He tells him he’ll get him out of this mess, but only if he’ll help him do something.

Cut to a year later and we’re in Manhattan. Our boy Max ended up winning the Pulitzer for the pictures he took during that battle, while Joe is a drunken mess. A drunken mess who’s also a cop. Little do they know, Ash is prepping a hundred some mercenaries for some hardcore New York City takeover action. And oh yeah, it’s Halloween.

Within a 30 minute period, two of the bridges connecting Manhattan are blown to pieces. A couple of mid-sized blimps with multiple dirty bombs are sent up above the city. The internet’s taken out. Cell phones are taken out. And just like that, Ash has taken over New York City. He lets everyone know via speaker systems that if they don’t do as he says, they’re going to get their mouths washed out with dirty bombs.

Meanwhile, Max and Joe, who run into each other by coincidence, are tasked with figuring out what the hell’s going on and how to stop it. That’s not going to be easy since Joe is still pissed at Max for caring more about his stupid pictures than saving people on that fateful day. Luckily, they run into Army Sergeant Kirk, who helps bridge the chasm between them and give a more sound plan to saving the city. So what is Ash doing exactly? What is his plan? Click on the link at the end of the review to find out.

One thing’s clear. Sun-kyu can write. All you have to do is read the first 20 pages to see that. I thought I was in for a typical “American soldiers get attacked” Baghdad sequence when I started reading. And that’s how it starts. But where Siege Of Man is different is that it keeps going. And going. And going. And shit just keeps getting worse. And worse. And worse. As our heroes pull out their weapons to fight back and see nothing but a wall of pedestrians, it’s just terrifying. Particularly because cars are blowing up around them and men are shooting at them from rooftops. And they’re in the middle of the city and there’s nowhere to run. What’s so cool about this opening sequence is that you can SEE IT. You can see the movie playing out before your eyes. That’s a powerful talent to have as a screenwriter.

Here’s the thing with Siege of Man though. While Sun-kyu is great at writing action, the plot itself is confusing and the character development isn’t very good. This is a common problem many writers run into. They get an idea for a movie – like someone taking over New York – and they become really into WRITING THAT. But they never sit down and specifically map out WHY this would happen or HOW all the characters are involved. As a result, you get something that’s comprehensible but not enjoyable. All the dots connect, but with really weak lines – like the kind you get when using a No. 3 pencil.

For me it began with Ash. A cool bad guy. He wants to take over New York. I’m into it. But for the majority of the screenplay, WHY he wants to take over New York is kept a mystery. When you keep something that important a mystery for that long, you better wow us when it’s finally revealed. And I was definitely not wowed when I heard Ash’s plan. That’s because I still don’t understand it. Apparently, Ash is going to insert a virus onto the Fed’s mainframe, destroying the United States’ ability to move money. This will then – I think – result in worldwide chaos, and countries will start attacking each other. And then we’ll have World War 3.

I’ll try and say this as politely as possible but….what?

Next we have Joe and Max. I can’t quite put my finger on it but I was never interested in either of these guys. Despite experiencing that intense battle with them at the opening of the movie, I have no idea who they are. One has a drinking problem and is pissed at the other. The other feels guilty about his Pulitzer. It’s really barebones stuff and hardly complex enough to emotionally pull us into their journey. I was just watching Psycho the other day, and noticed how much Marion had going on as a character. We know she’s in a taboo relationship. We know she’s thinking about giving up her life to be with this man full time. She steals money to achieve this goal and leave her old life forever. She’s lying to everyone she meets from that point on. There’s a TON going on internally with this woman. You can practically see the conflict playing out within her every time she opens her mouth. Granted, Siege Of Man is an action flick and not a horror film, but I needed a lot more going on with my heroes.

Next we get into logic issues. In broad terms, if you don’t really think about it, the takeover sort of makes sense. The bad guys have blown up bridges, cut out the cell phone towers, and set up massive bombs if anyone does anything stupid. But Ash has around (I believe) 150 men at his disposal. 150 men would have trouble keeping order in Central Park. Manhattan’s small but it’s not THAT small. So this idea that enough bad guys were patrolling the streets to keep things in order didn’t fly.

The final problem is that the script just runs out of steam. This is what I was talking about yesterday with the second act. If you’re not exploring your character’s flaw, if you don’t have a couple of compelling relationships that need to be resolved, and if those aren’t coupled with an escalating plot, your second act is going to fall apart. Joe and Max do have a fractured relationship, but it’s pretty murky what needs to be resolved (Joe wants Max to acknowledge not caring during the Baghdad battle?). This forces Sun-Kyu to resort to Michael-Bay-itis, covering all these deficiencies up by MAKING SHIT EXPLODE.

The thing is, Sun-kyu knows how to make shit explode. He’s very visual. He’s imaginative. He knows how to paint the type of scene you’d want to pay ten bucks for on a Saturday evening. And for that, he should be commended. But here’s the weird thing about Hollywood. Yes, it’s true, that when a big-budget movie races towards production, producers could give two shits about logic and character development. In fact, most of them freak out and do their best to dumb down and ruin the movie as much as possible, which is why we get abominations like Transformers. However, when you’re an unknown writer trying to break in with a spec script? Those same things become incredibly important to producers. Ironically, they WANT character development. They WANT your plot to be intricate and logical and make sense. Is it hypocritical? Sure. But these are the guys writing the checks. Even though they’re going to turn your screenplay into an incoherent piece of shit a year and a half from now, right now, it needs to be perfect.

While Siege Of Man didn’t do it for me in the end, it’s the best writing I’ve seen in an amateur script in awhile. If Sun-Kyu keeps working at this and improving the non-action portion of his writing, he’s going to become a working screenwriter in Hollywood.

Script link: Siege Of Man

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me (but recommend the writer)
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: One of the reasons James Cameron’s films have grossed more money than any other writer’s films in history is that he’s the only action writer I know who cares just as much about character development as he does action. Watch any of his movies and you’ll see that. I mean, he gives the damn Terminator a character arc in Terminator 2. Let me repeat that. He gives a ROBOT A CHARACTER ARC. The truth is, most writers who love action aren’t interested in character development. And most writers who love character development aren’t interested in action. So think about it. If you put equal emphasis on both, you could be unstoppable. Just like James Cameron.

So I’m sitting there reading Sex Tape last week and it hits me. Even the high level professionals getting a million bucks a script struggle with their second acts. And then I really start thinking about it (always a bad thing), and it clocks me. Not only do they struggle with it. They FAKE IT. No seriously, they do. They don’t know how to get through their second act so they throw up a bunch of smokescreens and set pieces and twists and turns, all in the hopes that you won’t figure out that they have no idea what they’re doing. And hey, who can blame them? It really is a fucked up act. I mean the first act is easy. You set up your story. The last act is simple. You conclude your story. But if you’re not setting up and you’re not concluding, what the hell are you doing? And why does the most confusing act have to be twice as long as the other two? Well, I’m going to answer that for you. It’s time to figure out the dreaded SECOND ACT.

UNLESS YOUR MAIN CHARACTER HAS A GOAL, YOU WILL ALWAYS STRUGGLE WITH YOUR SECOND ACT
This is technically a pre-second act tip, but it’s such an important one, it’s worth noting. Your main character needs something he’s after (a goal). The reason for this is, much of the second act will be dedicated to your character’s pursuit of this goal. So if there’s no goal, there’s nothing for your character to do. There are exceptions to this rule just like there are exceptions to everything (The Shawshank Redemption and Lost In Translation do not follow this format). But for the most part, if you want to conquer your second act, giving your hero a clear goal is essential.

A MAJOR CHARACTER THAT’S BEING TESTED
Okay, here’s why most second acts fail: Because writers don’t realize the second act is about CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. That’s not to say there isn’t action in your second act. Or plot. Or thrills. Or horror. There can be all these things. But the bigger overarching purpose of the second act is to explore your characters. Once you realize that, you’re way ahead of everyone else. All of this starts with your character’s defining flaw – or “fatal flaw” – which is loosely defined as the thing that’s held your character back his/her entire life. Once you identify that flaw, you’ll create a journey to specifically test it over and over again. These tests will force your character to grow, which will in turn bring us closer to your character. So in The Matrix, Neo’s fatal flaw is that he doesn’t believe in himself. Therefore many of the scenes in the second act are geared towards testing that problem. The building jump. The dojo fight. The Oracle visit. The Subway fight. Each time, that lack of belief is being tested. And each time, he comes a little closer to believing. Now, note how I didn’t say it had to be your hero who had the flaw. Many times it’s a secondary character who does the changing in a story. So if you look at a movie like Star Wars, Han’s flaw is that he’s too selfish. That flaw is tested when he and Obi-Wan get in arguments, when he’s given the chance to save the princess, and when he’s given a chance to join the Death Star battle. Or Cameron in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. His flaw is that he doesn’t take chances in life. Virtually every scene in the movie is Cameron being given a chance to let loose, to “enjoy life.” Personally, for me, I think the best stories are when everybody goes through some sort of change. So make sure that your second act contains a healthy dose of character exploration.

MORE CHARACTER EXPLORATION – RELATIONSHIPS
Relationships are the other main way you’re going to explore character in your second act. Long story short, you’d like to have two or three unresolved relationships in your movie, and you want to use your second act to resolve them. Much like the character flaw I mentioned above, there’s usually a key issue in every relationship that needs to be fixed. Many of your scenes in the second act will be used to explore that issue. In Good Will Hunting, the three biggest relationships are Will and Sean, Will and Skylar, and Will and Professor Lambeau. Each relationship needs to be resolved. The key issue with Will and Sean is opening up. The key issue with Will and Skylar is fear of commitment. And the key issue with Will and Professor Lambeau is what to do with Will’s talent. In the second act, Good Will Hunting jumps back and forth between these relationships, continually hitting on these issues, pushing each of them to the breaking point. Now of course, how much time you spend on this will have a lot to do with the kind of movie you’re writing. Good Will Hunting is an unapologetic character piece. But I’m not sure I’d recommend intimately dissecting three separate relationships in a movie like 2012 or Taken. But that doesn’t mean you should abandon the practice altogether. Maybe you cut down the number of relationships explored. Maybe you cut down the depth or the time used to explore those relationships. But you should probably have at least two relationships you’re exploring in your second act.

THE MIDPOINT STRIKE
One of the problems with second acts is that they go on FOREVER! 30 pages longer than the first and third acts. No wonder they’re so damn cryptic. But you have a secret weapon at your disposal to fend off this pit of boringness: the MIDPOINT STRIKE! Please don’t go around using this term. I just made it up for this article. The midpoint is that point in the story where the audience is sort of used to what’s going on, and is starting to feel like they have a handle on things, and are therefore on the verge of getting bored. By WHACKING them with the midpoint strike, you can change all that. So in Star Wars, it’s when they get to Alderran and the planet has been destroyed! In Jerry McGuire, it’s when Sugar steals Cush away from Jerry at the draft. In Psycho, it’s when Norman has killed and disposed of Marion Crane’s body. In Avatar, it’s when they destroy Home Tree. You need something to JOLT the story onto a different path. If you don’t, the script gets too predictable. You have a lot of options with what to do with the midpoint strike. It can be plot based, character based, internal, external, a big twist, the death of a character. Anything that changes the game a little bit. So in Source Code, it’s when Coulter finds out that he’s dead (character based). Or in Star Trek (2009), it’s when they realize Nero is going to destroy Earth and they have to either rendezvous with the rest of the star fleet or take a chance and stop him on their own (plot based). You get bonus points if your Midpoint Strike ups the stakes. So in Star Trek, earth potentially being destroyed is a pretty big upping of the stakes, wouldn’t you say?

THE BUILD (AND THE POWER OF OBSTACLES)
Here’s something I don’t think enough writers realize. A second act should BUILD. There should be peaks and valleys, sure. But overall, the audience should feel like we’re BUILDING towards something. In most screenplays I read, the second act does the opposite. It peters out. It sputters to the finish line. So how do you avoid this? By placing obstacles in front of your character’s goal, and by making each obstacle bigger and more difficult than the previous one. Here’s an analogy. Think of a video game. In most video games, the goal is to get to the final level and defeat the boss. Each level before that, then, is an “obstacle” to achieving that goal. And each level, in order to make getting to and defeating that boss harder, is more difficult than the previous. So if you look at Raiders Of The Lost Ark, all Indiana has to do at first is get to Cairo, walk around in a half-disguise, and look for the Ark. His obstacle is not getting caught. Pretty simple. But then he gets caught and buried in a cave. Now he has to get out. A slightly bigger obstacle. Then he gets out and has to destroy a plane and a bunch of Nazis. Bigger obstacle. Then he has to catch up with the caravan carrying the Ark and stop them. Bigger obstacle. Since each obstacle is more difficult, we get the sense that we’re BUILDING towards something. Now the truth is, this is an imperfect science, because sometimes you need to give your characters a breather, and you do that by throwing in a smaller obstacle. For example, while Luke and Han gunning down Tie-Fighters in the Millennium Falcon was a big obstacle, I wouldn’t say it was bigger than escaping the Death Star. Still, on the whole, your main obstacles should continue to get bigger and more imposing. This is what will create that necessary BUILD that makes a second act fun to watch.

BUILD BUILD – EVERYWHERE BUILDING!
Take note, the build is not relegated to the plot. It should be incorporated into your character’s fatal flaw and those unresolved relationships as well. That way, the story is building ON EVERY FRONT! For example, in Back To The Future, George McFly’s fatal flaw is his lack of belief in himself (hey, kinda like Neo). At first this flaw is tested when Marty introduces him to Lorraine at school. She’s more interested in Marty though, and George slinks away. Nothing is lost because she barely paid attention to George in the first place. Next, he asks her out at the diner. This time, there’s more on the line because he’s all alone and putting himself out there. In the end, of course, he’s gotta take down Biff AND ask Lorraine to the dance, the ultimate test of whether he finally believes in himself. We get that building sensation because each test had more at stake than the previous one. — Now on the “unresolved relationship” front, let’s look at one of the greatest rom-coms of all time, When Harry Met Sally. Their unresolved issue is trying to remain friends. At first they don’t really like each other so it doesn’t matter. But then they start hanging out, making that pact more difficult. Then they start dating other people, making it even more difficult. Then they start getting into serious relationships, making it even MORE difficult. So the act of trying to remain friends becomes more and more challenging by building the obstacles in front of that goal. As long as all the elements in your second act – plot, fatal flaw, relationships – are BUILDING towards a conclusion, you’re in good shape.

THE FALL
The end of your second act is when your character has tried everything. He’s overcome all the previous obstacles. He’s managed to keep his relationships together. He may even believe he’s overcome his flaw. But then all of these things (either bit by bit or all at once) should come crumbling down on top of him. He should lose the girl. He should fail to defeat the villain. He should fall back into his own ways. The last 10-15 pages of your second act is the steady decline of your main character, ending with him at the lowest point of his life. Neo unable to defeat Smith in the train station. Kristin Wiig losing her boyfriend and best friend in Bridesmaids. The Man In Black LITERALLY dying in The Princess Bride. The end of your second act should LOOK like it’s over for you character. That there’s no hope. And with that my friend, you’ve done it. You’ve concluded your second act and are ready to cross into the third.

There you go folks. Pat yourself on the back. I just want to leave you with one warning. What I’ve given you is the template for a TRADITIONAL SECOND ACT. One which includes a character who’s going after a clear goal. Unfortunately, not every movie follows this template. There is no character goal in The Shawshank Redemption. Will is not going after anything in Good Will Hunting. Ditto the characters in When Harry Met Sally. So it’s important to remember that while these tips give you a starting point for navigating your second act, there is no one size fits all solution. For example, there are no unresolved relationships being mined in the second act of Taken. Could there have been? Sure. Would they have made the movie better? Maybe. But the point is, every story is unique, and the big challenge will be putting yourself in enough screenwriting situations where you begin to understand which of these elements are needed and which aren’t. But hey, you’ve got yourself a starting point. Which is more than some of these professional writers can say. Feel free to leave your own Second Act tips in the comments section.

Genre: Horror
Premise: A group of college kids head off for a snowboarding trip, only to get trapped in their car and stalked by….something evil.
About: From what I understand, this script went out, had interested parties ready to buy, but the producers working with Borrelli wanted more than money. They wanted a commitment to make the film. I haven’t heard anything since so I’m not sure where the project lies, but it’s probably going to end up somewhere.
Writer: Christopher Borrelli (story by Chris Morgan)
Details: 88 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).

Who says Scriptshadow doesn’t do genre films? I’m bustin out the genre’ness right now. Wuchu got ta say about that!? Okay, okay, so I was a little wary of going into ultra-contained thriller territory again. I knew we’d get at least a dozen commenters dissing Stranded with comments like, “STOP WRITING CONTAINED THRILLERS! DEATH TO ALL CONTAINED THRILLERS!” But Borelli’s got some heat on him after landing a director for his other spec, the stuck on an island with bad guys and our only hope is a heartless sociopath killer, Wake. And since I thought that script was pretty darned good, I felt like he’d bring the heat to Stranded too. Plus, I’ve had a lot of people e-mailing me telling me it’s good. So it should probably be good, right?

The script starts off at one of the 10,000 colleges in the Massachusetts area. 26 year old Derek Galloway, an aspiring doctor, is about to celebrate his big birthday. He doesn’t know this yet. That’s because his girlfriend, 20 year old hottie and all around good girl, Jill, is surprising him with a one-day ski trip.

Also part of the surprise are her friends. Who might be Derek’s friends too but you get the impression that they’re a lot more Jill’s friends than Derek’s friends. One person who we KNOW isn’t a friend to Derek is 20 year old Phillip. Before Derek and Jill got together, Jill and Phillip had a little kissy-kissy thing going on, so Derek has no idea why the hell Jill would invite him of all people on HIS surprise birthday trip. Needless to say, the tension-o-meter is on red.

Since this is a horror flick, our characters have to find the most deserted portion of Massachusetts in all of Massachusetts. So they jump into their giant badly-in-need-of-a-tune-up Suburban and head to a lonely mountain in the middle of nowhere to get their skiing and snowboarding on. The day is, for the most part, a success, but on the way home, Derek gets lost, and it turns out they’re just driving in circles. Darkness comes. Gas runs low.

And that’s when the real fun begins.

While trying to sleep it out and wait til morning, Jill wakes up to see some kind of old woman face pressed against the window. What the fuck is that? She wakes the others but of course by that time Old Woman Face is gone. During this time, Derek – for reasons only a horror movie would know – decides that instead of waiting for morning, he’s going to trek out in sub-freezing temperatures and try to find help himself.

(spoilers follow) So it shouldn’t be a surprise that when our other coeds turn on the headlights a few hours later, they find Derek’s body dismembered and, like, eaten or something. Well that isn’t good. You know what’s worse though? Old Woman Face is back. And this time we get a better look at her. She’s hunched over and twisted and runs around on all fours and is definitely not dateable. Derek was just the appetizer. They’re the main course.

Naturally, people start doing really dumb things like getting out of the car, and when that happens, Old Woman Face picks them off one by one. Those who stay in the car survive the longest, but it’s looking like they’re going to be lunch meat soon enough. Whatever the case, this is so not the skiing trip they envisioned.

Overall? Despite some of its cliché-ness? I have to admit, I liked Stranded. And I’ll tell you why. Because in all these contained thrillers I’ve been reading, they’re all real world scenarios. The fact that this one brought in a horror element made it unpredictable. And the choice of “monster” was also unique. I’ve seen witches. I’ve seen trolls. I’ve seen aliens and creatures. But I’ve never quite seen a freaky-ass hunchbacked witch that runs around on all fours. It was different, and that difference brought an unpredictability to the story.

And here’s where Stranded sets itself apart from others like it. Or maybe not. Depends on if you saw this the way I did. (spoilers) Did anybody get the feeling that this was not a witch-creature? That it was actually a bear? The script starts off with the characters making a big deal out of this being bear country. And I was wondering if the story was about people letting their fears get the best of them. In many ways, the witch creature acts like a bear. It tears its prey apart with the strength of a bear. It walks on all fours. (spoiler) In the end, when we see 3 more witch-creatures, I thought that was an indication that they were definitely bears. Thoughts?

The point is, it made me think. And that’s more than I can say for a script like The Greys.

Now, where I think the script can be improved is in the characters. I thought Borrelli did a neat Psycho-inspired job of killing off our main character, Derek, first. But the more I thought about it, the more I asked, “Was that really our main character?” I barely knew anything about the guy. He was an aspiring doctor, Jill’s boyfriend, it was his birthday, and he didn’t like Phillip. That’s all I knew about him. What were his fears? His flaws? His defining characteristic? His dreams? His plans. For example, was he planning to ask Jill to marry him? I just didn’t feel like I knew the guy on any sort of a deep level, so I felt nothing when he died.

And why make him 26 when everybody else was 20? It’s different, I guess, but it didn’t have a single effect on the rest of the screenplay other than to make you scratch your head and ask, “What’s the point of making this guy older than everybody else?” In the end, it just made it weird. Had we known more about why he was coming to college late (or was he in Graduate School? Not clear), that could’ve solved both of these issues.

Probably the biggest problem though is that the lead male title is then handed over to Phillip, who we were prepped to hate (he’s an asshole to Derek AND has a history with his girlfriend). Maybe it was Borrelli’s intention to challenge the audience and make you change your mind about Phillip over the course of the movie, but he’s introduced as a snarky asshole. So no matter what he said or did, I always saw him as a snarky asshole.

And that brings me to something I’ve never really understood about this genre. When you get a bunch of teenagers together to be slaughtered by some otherworldly force, it seems like the idea’s to make them deserve it in some way. Wasn’t the entire Friday the 13th franchise built on that conceit? Make us want these people to die so we can revel and giggle when they get their just desserts? Except if we don’t like them, then why the hell do we care what happens to them? So I’m not sure how that whole balance works. I’m much more comfortable working inside a realm where you make the audience like your characters and therefore root for them to live. Like in Aliens. You know?

Anyway, this was way better than I thought it would be. I thought it was going to be another standard trapped in a small space script. But it’s got a little more bite going on. Definitely worth the read.

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

What I learned: Not long ago I watched this really bad Emily Blunt movie called “Windchill” about two college kids on a shared ride back from college. Just like this movie, they get stranded in the snow, and bad things start happening to them. Except in that film, the antagonists were ghosts. And I realized after reading Stranded, when writing this type of scenario (trapped somewhere) it’s much better if the antagonist is imminently dangerous. Neither film is in my wheelhouse, but Stranded was so much more exciting because this monster was fucking killing people. And any one of them could’ve been picked off next. Windchill just had a bunch of spooky “ghosts” walking by the windows. Oooooooh. Spoooooooky. If by spooky you mean LAME! If we’re not feeling urgency and fear of death in these situations, you better have some really cool mystery up your sleeve.

Hello everybody.  Carson here.  It’s a busy week so I’m going to be taking the day off.  But good news.  Commenter and site regular, Christian Savage, will be taking over the reviewing reins today.  And I say “reins” quite literally cause we got ourselves a good ole fashioned Western on our hands.  Or a good current day Western on our hands.  Or a Western, but set in today’s time, movie, on our hands.  Aw screw it.  You get what I’m saying.  This is Christian’s first time in the review chair so be nice to him!

Genre: Dark fantasy
Premise: In the city of The Burgue, a police inspector pursues a serial killer who is targeting fairies.
About: Travis Beacham sold this script back in 2005. While becoming a town favorite, it has often been deemed too expensive to make, particularly because it doesn’t have a pre-built in audience. However, the script jump-started Beacham’s career and allowed him to do assignment work on some of the biggest projects in town. He eventually got sole credit on Clash Of The Titans, and is the writer on Guillermo del Toro’s upcoming self-proclaimed “biggest monster movie ever,” Pacific Rim. If you’re a writer who wants to write big Hollywood effects-driven flicks, Travis Beacham is probably your template-writer on how to get there.
Writer: Travis Beacham
Details: 116 pages – July 22, 2005 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).

Do not adjust your screens. That déjà vu you’re experiencing does not mean the Matrix has reloaded. Killing on Carnival Row HAS been reviewed on Scriptshadow before. But it was Roger who reviewed it, not moi.

Before and since then, I have heard numerous screenwriters tout how this screenplay is the greatest thing since Final Draft. Imaginative, daring, edgy, fascinating, original, dark – these adjectives bombard my sensitive ears whenever Killing on Carnival Row’s brought up. Which begs the question? Why haven’t I read it?

Well, I don’t dig the fairy thing. These kinds of fantasy worlds remind me of Harry Potter, whose movies have provided me with some of the more severe “what the fuck” expressions that have ever graced my mug. So the last thing I wanted was to crash the party with a big fat negative review of a script everybody considered their script girlfriend. So I avoided it. And avoided it. And avoided it. And then one day I woke up and for no good reason proclaimed, much like Annette Benning’s character in American Beauty, “I shall read Killing On Carnival Row today!” But I knew if I was going to do this, I was going to have to do it in style. So I went to the costume shop and bought one of those cheap fairy costumes. I strapped on my wings and got ready to immerse myself in The Burgue.

Worgue.

Killing on Carnival Row introduces us to Inspector Rycroft Philostrate. Besides being a mouthful, Philostrate is kind of this deep dark dude who roams this deep dark city known as The Burgue. Philostrate has just learned of the killing of a poor defenseless fairy, and it’s his job to find out who the killer is.

The main witness at the crime scene – to give you an idea of how weird this world is – is a seal/sea creature named Moira who speaks in song. She sings out what she saw, probably making things more confusing than they were in the first place. But that’s okay, because we later find out that she impressed enough people to make it to Hollywood Week on The Burgue Idol.

Philostrate surmises from the Rebecca Black breakdown that the place to look for answers is Carnival Row, the quarter of The Burgue where all fairies live. But we soon find out this isn’t a professional visit. Oh no. It turns out Philostrate is in love with a fairy hooker named Tourmaline. So the two make some very graphic but very sweet human-fairy love, and afterwards throw out wishful asides about becoming a “real couple” someday. Riiiiight. Not to ruin the moment here guys, but there’s a bigger chance of Harry Potter hooking up with Volgemart.

Anyway, our fairy killer isn’t done fairy killing yet, and after taking out another clueless wing-flapper, he kills Tourmaline herself, the hooker fairy! Uh-oh, shit just got personal. And to make things worse, the press has picked up on the ordeal. They’re calling our fairy serial killer: Unseelie Jack (I think “Seelie” is the name of one of the quarters in The Burgue. But I can’t tell you for sure. This is a script where, remember, people peel off seal-like exteriors and speak in song).

Philostrate is pretty down about the whole Tourmaline thing, but apparently not that down, cause he starts hooking up with this other fairy named Vignette quickly afterwards. Karma comes back to bite his ass though, as Philostrate soon becomes the number one suspect for the fairy killings! Say what!? That’s right. They think HE’S Unseelie Jack. So Philostrate does his best Harrison Ford impression, trying to solve the case while on the run, and develops deeper and deeper feelings for Vignette. Will they catch him? Is Philostrate Unseelie Jack? Find out…well…in the comments section here on this review.

I’m guessing you already know where I stand on this one. In a lot of ways, Killing on Carnival Row was exactly what I expected it to be. A story where film geeks go to gorge themselves. You got your dark noir-ish city. You got your hot naked fairies. You got your half-human half-seal singing whatchumacalits. This is a movie that David Fincher or Guillermo del Toro would hit out of the park. In fact, this script is basically Seven meets the fairy world. Meets Harry Potter. I’m not sure what fairy sex would look like onscreen, but this movie wants you to know.

The writing style’s also very visceral. I may not have liked the world I was in, but I definitely felt like I was there. There is no doubt Beacham thought this universe up and down and back and forth. Carnival Row has the same attention to detail as films like Star Wars, Avatar, and even Lord Of The Rings. Reading it is kind of like the difference between playing a good video game and a bad video game. In a bad video game, you walk outside the expected field of play and you see a bunch of blurry pixels. Do the same thing in a good video game, and you might find this huge beautiful wheat field, glimmering in the sunset. The details and depth here are just first rate.

In fact, I think Beacham’s kind of a genius in that sense. When you think about the highest paying screenwriting jobs in Hollywood? They’re usually effects driven films with lots of monsters. So why not show Hollywood you can write effects driven movies with lots of monsters? But the difference between Beacham and everyone else who takes this approach is that Beacham really studied his world. This isn’t some slapped together paper-thin universe. This is a full blown bona fide mythology. Carnival Row may not ever be made, but the script will be reaping assignment residuals for the rest of Beacham’s life.

Another biggie I realized halfway through the script, is that even though I wasn’t into the subject matter, I would definitely go see this movie. I mean, imagine the trailer for this sucker. Naked fairies and huge mechanical dragonfly blimps and singing seal whatchumacalits. It would be unlike anything you’ve seen before. And I think that’s what I’m forgetting here. My narrow-minded grown-up Harry Potter references aside, you have never seen a movie like this in your life. That alone should merit making it.

As for the script itself, let’s just say while reading it, I felt like the uptight yuppie dude walking through downtown Tijuana. I had a hard time comprehending what the hell was going on half the time. For example, fairies are often referred to as scum in this world. But I always thought fairies were cute and sweet. Tinker Bell may be many things – annoying near the top of the list – but I’d never equate her to a cockroach. Why they gotta be so fairy racist in this movie? I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. Trolls. Yuck. Lizard people. Icky. Fairies? Cute!

And on the story front, I had a hard time figuring out why the hell they were after Philostrate. One second Philostrate’s the main detective on the case. Next, he’s the main suspect. Hold up, WHAT?? When the hell did this happen?? Did I miss something? Don’t you have to, like, have the one-armed man kill your wife but she erroneously whispers your name into the phone before she dies to become a number one suspect in a murder? If someone could explain this plot point to me, I would be grateful.

But when it was all over? I appreciated Carnival Row. It’s different. It’s bold. It’s extremely well-written. So I definitely think it’s worth reading. But I will not be joining Team Philostrate or Team Tourmaline any time soon.

linkage: While I won’t be linking to the script here, this script can actually be found online.  Just type the title and “PDF” into google and you should find it no problem.  

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

What I learned: Pay particular attention to the way you describe your action. If you look at the first scene in Killing on Carnival Row, you’ll find a lot of descriptive visceral words. “Laboured BREATHING” “SPLISH SPLASH” “BURSTS” “Eerie WAIL” “slams” “kicks free.” Notice how I haven’t even told you what the scene was about but you still have a strong sense of what’s happening. Compare that to if I used, “runs” “flies” “screams” “breathes”. Those words do the job, but not nearly as effectively. So choose your adjectives and your descriptive phrases wisely. You want to connect with that reader on a visceral level.