Genre: Dramatic Thriller
Premise: A black ops agent is assigned to protect a female operator who works out of a “numbers station” deep in the Arizona desert.
About: This sold a few weeks back once Ethan Hawke attached himself to the project. It is F. Scott Frazier’s first sale. He previously worked in the video game industry. Kasper Barfoed, a Danish filmmaker known for his film “The Candidate,” will direct. Production starts this September.
Writer: F. Scott Frazier
Details: 108 pages – not dated (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time of the film’s release. 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 remember in an interview Ethan Hawke gave a few years back, he said (paraphrasing) “You’ll never see me in a movie like some of these actors make, Beethoven 2 or Transformers, because I’ve never lived above my means. A lot of star actors take gigs because they have house payments. I’ve never made a decision to be in a film based on anything other than the material.” Now you may not like Ethan Hawke’s choices, but I love the fact that he stays true to his craft. You can count the number of actors on one hand who do that. And it’s for that reason that I always pay attention when Ethan Hawke signs onto a project. I know he’s basing his decision on the quality of the project, and in most cases, the quality of the screenplay.

The Numbers Station is a dark, somewhat twisted, story about an agent, Emerson Little, whose job it is to “retire” other agents when they’re no longer necessary. As far as what kind of agency Emerson belongs to, that’s anyone’s guess. I suppose it could be the CIA, but like a lot of things in The Numbers Station, “supposing” is about as close as you’re going to get. This story is shrouded in mystery, which is both its biggest strength and its biggest weakness.

Whomever it is that employs Emerson, they do so with an iron fist. Emerson and his fellow agents live in constant fear. One little slip-up and it might be them getting “retired.” So when Emerson does slip up on a routine job, he’s thinking it could be lights out. Instead, he’s given a reprieve. He’ll be sent to a “Numbers Station” way out the fuck in the middle of the Arizona desert. His job will be to protect the operator at the station. The job is meant as an insult – the easiest of all the jobs an agent can have.

So out into the desert Emerson goes and sure enough there’s a lone tiny building in the middle of nowhere. Inside the deceptively but heavily fortified building are a few rooms and a “broadcast station.” A woman named Katherine – pretty, simple –reads numbers into an encrypted frequency all day. She doesn’t know what the numbers mean. Nobody knows what the numbers mean. Except, we assume, the people who they’re being broadcast to.

As agents, everything is supposed to be kept professional. No smiles, no personal talk, no “real life.” She reads the numbers. He protects her. That’s all.

But when you’re out in the middle of nowhere with no one to talk to, with nothing to do, sooner or later something’s going to break. Katherine and Emerson develop a quiet friendship. It’s wrong – he knows that – and he knows one more slip-up is going to place him in the middle of the desert permanently. But what can he do? She’s so full of life. In fact, Katherine who erroneously believes that one day she’ll have a “normal” life, is eager to crack Emerson’s icy exterior. It’s a delicate line Emerson must walk, and it’s one he struggles with the more he gets to know here.

Then out of nowhere, one day between shifts, the station is compromised. And even though it seems to be empty now, they find out that whoever broke in is nearby, and they’re not leaving until they get one more thing. And that one more thing is still there, in the station, with them.

The Numbers Station is a bizarre script. It takes its time, and in the first 30 pages, could’ve gone several different ways. For that reason, it took me awhile to settle in and really feel comfortable.

Once we’re at the Numbers Station though, the story picks up, and that mainly has to do with our fascination over what these numbers are that are being broadcast. What do they mean? Where are they going? Who’s receiving them? What are they doing once they receive them? Does this kind of thing exist in real life? Whatever they are, it becomes clear that they’re important, and the obvious reason for why the station is compromised.

Now if you’re hoping for a clear-cut answer on these numbers, you’re not going to get one. The Numbers Station goes out of its way to give you pieces of the puzzle, but never what it looks like when it’s put together. Strangely, for someone who usually hates a lack of answers, I was captivated. Cause there is just enough information to make your imagination run wild. And like I stated above, I kept coming back to that question: Does something like this really exist? How horrifying would that be?

The crux of the story, however, is what goes down once the station is compromised, and I think the script, in its current draft, falls a little short here. As Emerson and Katherine (interesting character names btw) try and figure out what to do, the surprises aren’t surprising enough, the bad guys plan isn’t clear enough, and there’s something in the back of your head whispering, “We’ve seen it go down this way before.” There are a few nice revelations, and I’m a sucker for the “play back the audio/video and look closer” device (which plays a big part in the mystery), but if they could nail this aspect of the script, this could really be something special, because I was truly fascinated by this tiny but compelling world that F. Scott Frazier created.

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

What I learned: You want to make your main character’s defining characteristic clear. If we’re unsure what that characteristic is because you focus on too many sides of your hero, the character can quickly become confusing (and muddled). Han Solo’s defining characteristic is that he’s selfish. We’re never confused about that. Woody’s defining characteristic in Toy Story is that he’s jealous. We’re never confused about that. Once you know that characteristic, you can shape the storyline to repeatedly challenge it. So when the Millennium Falcon gets stuck on the Death Star, Han Solo isn’t concerned about saving a stupid princess. He’s concerned about how he’s going to get his money. Only when Luke presents the idea of a reward does Han become interested. Later, when Han can either fight for the Rebel Alliance (help others) or leave (save himself), he of course chooses to leave. So there’s a huge advantage gained by making your hero’s defining characteristic clear. Here, Emerson’s defining characteristic is his emotional distance. He refuses to allow anyone in. When you read the script, pay attention to how that plays out during the course of the story. Always make sure the hero’s defining characteristic is clear!

Genre: Thriller
Premise: A bike messenger has 90 minutes to get a mysterious package across town.
About: From spec-kings David Koepp and John Camps, this script recently sold to Columbia with Joseph Gordon-Levitt attached to play the lead. Koepp is also planning to direct. Gordon-Levitt is set to star in another thriller as well, this one for a sci-fi script written and directed by Rian Johnson (Brick) called “Looper.” Is Gordon-Levitt finally ready to become the next DiCaprio?
Writers: David Koepp and John Kamps
Details: 111 pages – September 18, 2009 Draft (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time of the film’s release. 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).

David Koepp and John Camps come to play. They wrote a little script a decade ago called The Superconducting Super Collider from Sparkle Creek Wisconsin and sold it for 2.5 million. They wrote Ghost Town a few years back and that sold for 2 million. Koepp, on his own, wrote Panic Room in 2000 and that sold for 2 million. That’s three specs sold for 2 million or more. Only a few writers have that kind of track record. So when Koepp and collaborator Kamps write a new script, the market is ready to listen. I was particularly interested in this script after posting yesterday’s article, “How To Write a Great Script.” I was curious to see how many points out of the 13 listed it hit on. Surprisingly, it hit them all. So what’s it about?

Wilee is a modern day Puck. You remember Puck, right? The San Francisco bike messenger who liked to taunt Pedro by putting his fingers in the peanut butter? Too obscure a reference? Understood. I’ll start over (but 10 bonus points for the first person to point out where the reference is from). Wilee is a 26 year old bike messenger in New York City. He zips around town tempting serious injury and/or death at every intersection, at every car door, at every bus he speeds by. This is not a job for the faint of heart, or, you know, people who value their life. But the rush is what Wilee lives for. If you need a package taken from midtown to downtown in 20 minutes, he’s your man.

So on this particular day, Wilee receives a seemingly innocent package from an Asian Woman to be delivered to Chinatown. It is very important, the woman stresses, that the package get to its destination, and that it gets there within the next 93 minutes. Yeah yeah, Wilee says. If it didn’t need to get there fast, they wouldn’t be calling him. Every package is a rush – piece of cake.

Except it’s not a piece of cake. Less than a block after leaving the pick-up, Wilee runs into a man named Barry Monday (I love how Koepp and Kamps introduce him: “His name, no matter what he says, is BARRY MONDAY”), who claims that the woman who gave him the package did so unlawfully, and he’s going to need it back. Wilee sizes him up, senses something suspicious, and rolls out. But this will not be the last time Wilee runs into Barry Monday.

That’s when Premium Rush starts making some interesting choices. I usually hate flashbacks, mainly because they put the story on hold until the flashback is over. If you have a ton of momentum, why would you want to pause your story? But as has been previously noted, this isn’t Koepp’s and Kamps’ first trip to the rodeo. They understand that if we’re going to flash back, there needs to be something revealed, something that, essentially, pushes the story forward instead of holding it in place.

So what we do, is cut back a few hours to the individual characters in the story and how they reached this point. We learn about why Barry Monday is chasing Wilee. We learn about why the Asian woman needed Wilee to deliver the package. And we learn about Wilee’s own issues via the romantic relationship he’s involved with.

As soon as these flashbacks are over, we zip back into the present-hour situation, which mostly entails harrowing chase scenes throughout New York City. I’ll be honest with you. I didn’t expect to like this. Mainly because I thought bike messengers were extinct once the internet hit. It just seemed like old hat to me. But it turns out it actually has the opposite effect. The zipping and zapping through New York City felt fresh and alive, different from anything I’d recently read or seen.

Let’s start with the best part of the script: bike-o-vision. Yeah, you heard that right. Koepp and Kamps have created their own Matrix-style stop-motion technique. When Wilee’s zipping through the streets and gets into a tough spot (door opening, cross-traffic ahead, baby stroller), everything slows down so he can assess his options. Then, out of nowhere, a small area will light up, and that’s the direction he zips into.

Also, this script should be a template for how to write action. The description here is so clean it practically shines. I can’t tell you how often I stumble through sentences because of bad description. Each line feels like downtown Chicago once spring hits – potholes everywhere. Here, I felt like I was on one of those sleek Japanese magnet trains – everything was smooth as silk. I haven’t been able to visualize action like that in forever.

But now for the fun stuff. Let’s see how the script stacks up to the 13 qualities of a great script I posted yesterday…

1) AN ORIGINAL AND EXCITING CONCEPT – Haven’t seen a movie about bike messengers before. Rushing through New York City on a bike almost getting killed at every corner? Definitely exciting.

2) A MAIN CHARACTER WHO WANTS SOMETHING (AKA “A GOAL”) – He wants to deliver the package. Check.

3) A MAIN CHARACTER WE WANT TO ROOT FOR – Wilee fends off the bully Barry Monday after receiving the package. We also slyly see him get screwed over by another biker early on. Instantly-built sympathy. We like this guy. We want to see him succeed.

4) GET TO YOUR STORY QUICKLY – We get to our main story goal (deliver the package) on page 13. And I give you guys til page 25! I’m thinking I was way too generous.

5) STAY UNDER 110 PAGES – Script is 111. I’ll give Koepp and Kamps a break on that extra page seeing as they’ve sold 7 million dollars worth of scripts.

6) CONFLICT – I don’t think there’s a single scene in this script that doesn’t have a healthy dose of conflict. The nature of the premise practically ensures it.

7) OBSTACLES – Rarely does 10 pages go by without some major obstacle getting in the way of Wilee delivering the package.

8) SURPRISE – Lots of surprises here. From the way the story is structured (flashbacks) to the revelations of who these people are and why they’re in this predicament. Monday is a whole basket of secrets.

9) TICKING TIME BOMB – He only has 93 minutes to deliver the package.

10) STAKES – The stakes are extremely high for everyone. Wilee’s life is on the line. Monday’s career is on the line. The Asian woman’s package contains the highest stakes of all (which I won’t spoil).

11) HEART – When we find out what the Asian Woman is transporting, that’s about as much heart as you can pack into a thriller.

12) A GREAT ENDING – The ending here is solid.

13) THE X-FACTOR – The script has a beautiful combination of kinetic energy, surprising revelations, and fresh plot points. Nothing here feels old or rehashed. It’s the old “same but different” every producer is looking for.

Now does this mean I think Premium Rush is perfect? No. This isn’t Casablanca or Chinatown. It’s a thriller. But it’s a thriller that’s executed pretty much perfectly. The only thing the script is missing is a slightly more emotionally engaging main character. I would’ve liked to connect with Wilee more, and that’s why this just missed an impressive rating. But this is really good stuff. Check it out.

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

What I learned: Whenever you write a script like this where your main character is being chased by dangerous people, you have to address the question of “Why doesn’t he just go to the cops?” When writers ignore this simple question, it indicates they don’t give a shit about reality, and the script loses credibility as a result. If real world rules don’t apply, then you’re writing a fantasy. Here in Premium Rush, a great reason is given for why Wilee doesn’t go to the cops (don’t want to spoil it), so we never consider the possibility again.

Everybody always says it. The one surefire way to break into the industry is to write a great script. “All you have to do is write a great script,” they say. “Ohhhh,” you reply, “That’s it? “That’s all I had to do all this time?? Was write a great script? Well why didn’t you say so? And here I was working on my 20th really bad script!” Bitter reactions aside, it’s true. Write a great script and you’re in.

What hasn’t been clarified is what “great” means. Well I got to thinking (yes, it does happen). Why don’t I post exactly what a “great script” is so there’s no more confusion? Now when we say, “Just write a great script,” people will actually have something to reference. This idea sounded brilliant when I first came up with it, but the more it marinated, the more I realized that if writing a great script could be explained in a 2500 word blog post, we’d probably all be millionaires.

However, that doesn’t mean I can’t offer a list of 13 things I consistently see in great scripts. It may not be a step by step guide but at least it’s something. Yeah, I thought. That might work.

Now while I was hoping to provide an all-inclusive list of tips to best help you write a great script, the reality is I’ve probably forgotten a couple of things. So this is what I’m going to do. In the comments section, I want you to include what YOU think makes a great script. Over the course of today and tomorrow, I’ll update this post to include the best suggestions from you guys. Together, we’ll create *the* perfect go-to list when it comes to writing a great script. Isn’t this wonderful? Team Scriptshadow!

So here they are, in no particular order…

1) AN ORIGINAL AND EXCITING CONCEPT

This is the single most important choice you will make in writing your script because it will determine whether people actually read it or not. I used to hear agents say, “90% of the scripts out there fail before I’ve even opened them.” And it’s true. If you don’t have a compelling concept, nothing else matters. This slightly circumvents the “great” argument because nobody’s saying you can’t write a “great” script about a boy who goes home to take care of his ailing mother. But the reality is, nobody’s going to get excited about reading that script. Even the kind of people who WOULD want to read that script probably won’t because they know it’s a financial pitfall. It’ll take 5 years off their life and, in the end, play in 10 theaters and make 14,286 dollars. Now obviously an “exciting” idea is objective. But it’s fairly easy to figure out if you have something special. Pitch your idea to your 10 best friends. Regardless of what they *tell* you, read their reactions. Do their eyes and voices tell you they’re into it? If you get 10 polite smiles accompanied with a “Yeah, I like it,” it’s time to move on to the next idea. So give me your Hangovers. Give me your Sixth Senses. Shit, give me your Beavers. But don’t give me three people in a room discussing how their lives suck for 2 hours. And if you do, make it French. –

2) A MAIN CHARACTER WHO WANTS SOMETHING (AKA A “GOAL”)

Some people call it an “active protagonist.” I just call it a character who wants something. Ripley and the marines want to go in and wipe out the aliens in “Aliens.” Liam Neeson wants to find his daughter in “Taken.” The girl in “Paranormal Activity” wants to find out what’s haunting her house. The stronger your character wants to achieve his/her goal, the more compelling they’re going to be. Now I’ll be the first to admit that passive characters sometimes work. Neo is somewhat passive in The Matrix until the end. And, of course, Dustin Hoffman is the most famous passive character of all time in The Graduate. But these characters are tricky to write and require a skill set that takes years to master. In the end, they’re too dangerous to mess around with. Stick with a character who wants something.

3) A MAIN CHARACTER WE WANT TO ROOT FOR

This is one of the more hotly debated topics in screenwriting because a character we “root for” is usually defined as being “likable,” and there are a whole lot of screenwriters out there who would rather bake their craniums in a pizza oven than, gasp, make their protagonist “likable.” I got good news. Your hero doesn’t have to be “likeable” for your script to work. But you DO have to give us a character we want to root for, someone we’re eager to see succeed. He *can* be likable, such as Steve Carrel’s character in “40 Year Old Virgin.” He can be defiant, like Paul Newman in “Cool Hand Luke.” But he has to have some quality in him that makes us want to root for him. If your character is mopey, whiney, and an asshole, chances are we’re not going to want to root for that guy.

4) GET TO YOUR STORY QUICKLY!

Oh man. Oh man oh man oh man. As far as amateur screenplay mistakes go, this is easily one of the Top 3. Even after I explain, in detail, what the mistake is, writers continue to do it. So I’m going to try and make this clear. Are you ready? “Your story is moving a lot slower than you, the writer, believe it is.” For that reason, speed it the fuck up! In other words, that ten page sequence which contains 3 separate scenes, each pointing out in its own unique way that your hero is irresponsible? Well we figured it out after the first scene. You don’t need to waste 7 more pages telling us again…and again. Remember, readers use the first 30 pages to gauge how capable a writer is. And the main thing they’re judging is how quickly and efficiently you set up your story. In The Hangover, I think they wake up from their crazy night somewhere around page 20. You don’t want it to be any later than page 25 before we know what it is your character is after (see #2).

5) STAY UNDER 110 PAGES

This is a close cousin to number 2 and a huge point of contention between writers as well. But let’s move beyond my usual argument, which is that a 120 page script is going to inspire rage from a tired reader, and discuss the actual effects of a 110 page screenplay on your story. Keeping your script under 110 pages FORCES YOU TO CUT OUT ALL THE SHIT. That funny scene you like that has nothing to do with the story? You don’t need it. The fifth chase scene at the end of the second act? You don’t need it. Those 2 extra scenes I just mentioned above that tell us the exact same information we already know about your main character? You don’t need them. I know this may be hard to believe. But not everything you write is brilliant, or even necessary for that matter. Cutting your script down to 110 pages forces you to make tough decisions about what really matters. By making those cuts, you eliminate all the fat, and your script reads more like a “best of” than an “all of.” As for some of those famous names who like to pack on the extra pages, I’ll tell you what. For every script you sell or movie you make, you’re allowed 5 extra pages to play with, as your success indicates you now know what to do with those pages. Until then, keep it under 110. And bonus points if you keep it under 100.

6) CONFLICT

Does everyone in your script get along? Is the outside world kind to your characters? Do your characters skip through your story with nary a worry? Yeah, then your script has no conflict. I could write a whole book on conflict but here’s one of the easiest ways to create it. Have one character want something and another character want something else. Put them in a room together and, voila, you have conflict. If your characters DO happen to be good friends, or lovers, or married, or infatuated with each other, that’s fine, but then there better be some outside conflict weighing on them (Romeo and Juliet anyone?). Let me give you the best example of the difference between how conflict and no conflict affect a movie. Remember The Matrix? How Trinity wanted Neo but she couldn’t have him yet? Remember the tension between the two? How we wanted them to be together? How we could actually feel their desire behind every conversation? The conflict there was that the two couldn’t be together. Now look at The Matrix Reloaded and The Matrix Revolutions. Trinity and Neo are together. They’re always happy. And they’re always F’ING BORING AS HELL! The conflict is gone and therefore so is our interest. If your story isn’t packed with conflict, you don’t have a story.

7) OBSTACLES

Your script should have plenty of obstacles your main character encounters in pursuit of his goal. A big issue I see in a lot of bad scripts is that the main character’s road is too easy. The more obstacles you throw at your hero, the more interesting a script tends to be, because that’s why we come to the movies in the first place, to see how our hero heroically overcomes the problems he’s presented. He can’t be heroic if he doesn’t run into anything that tests his heroism. Go watch any of the Bourne movies to see how obstacles are consistently thrown at a character. And a nice side effect? Each obstacle creates conflict!

8) SURPRISE

A great script continually surprises you. Even if the story seems familiar, the characters’ actions and the twists and turns are consistently different from what we expected. The most boring scripts I read are ones where I have a good sense of what’s going to happen for the next 5 or 6 scenes. Remember, readers have read everrryyyyyything. So you really have to be proactive and outthink them to keep them on their toes. The Matrix is a great example of a script that continually surprises you. The first time you watched that movie (or read that script) you rarely had any idea where the story was going.

9) A TICKING TIME BOMB

Ticking time bombs can get a bad rap because they have such an artificial quality to them, but oh how important they are. What’s so great about them? They add * immediacy* to your story. If a character doesn’t have to achieve his goals right now, if he can achieve them next week or next year, then the goal really isn’t that important, is it? We want to watch a character that has to achieve his goal RIGHT NOW or else he loses everything. Sometimes ticking time bombs are clear as day (Hangover: They need to find Doug by noon on Saturday to get him back in time for his wedding), sometimes they’re more nuanced (Star Wars Luke needs to get the details of that battle station to the Rebel Alliance before they find and destroy the planet), but they’re there. If you don’t have a ticking time bomb in your script, you better have a damn good reason why.

10) STAKES

If your character achieves his ultimate goal, there needs to be a great reward. If your character fails to achieve his ultimate goal, there needs to be huge consequences. The best use of stakes is usually when a character’s situation is all or nothing. Rocky’s never going to get another shot at fighting the heavyweight champion of the world. This is it. Those stakes are damn high. If Wikus doesn’t get Christopher up to the mothership in District 9, he’s going to turn into a fucking alien. Those stakes are damn high. If all a character loses by not achieving his goal is a couple of days out of his life, that’s not very exciting, is it? And that’s because the stakes are too low.

11) HEART

We need to emotionally connect with your characters on some level for us to want to follow them for 110 minutes (NOT 120!). The best way to do this is to give your character a flaw, introduce a journey that tests that flaw, and then have him transform into a better person over the course of that journey. This is also known as having your character “arc.” When characters learn to become better people, it connects with an audience because it makes them believe that they can also change their flaws and become better people. In Knocked Up, Seth Rogan is a grade-A fuck-up, the most irresponsible person on the planet. So the journey forces him to face that head on, and learn to become responsible (so he can be a parent). You always want a little bit of heart in your script, whether it’s a drama, a comedy, or even horror.

12) A GREAT ENDING

Remember, your ending is what the reader leaves with. It is the last image they remember when they close your script. So it better leave a lasting impression. This is why specs like The Sixth Sense sell for 2 million bucks. If you go back into that script, there are actually quite a few slow areas. But you don’t remember them because the ending rocked. And I’m not saying you have to add a twist to every script you write. But make sure the ending satisfies us in some way, because if you leave us with a flat generic finale, we ain’t going to be texting our buddies saying, “Holy shit! You have to read this script right now!”

13) THE X-FACTOR

This last tip is the scariest of them all because it’s the one you have the least control over. It’s called the X-Factor. It is the unexplainable edge that great scripts have. Maybe it’s talent. Maybe the variables of your story came together in just the right way. Maybe you tap into the collective unconscious. A great script unfortunately has something unexplainable about it, and unfortunately, some of that comes down to luck. You could nail every single tip I’ve listed above and still have a script that’s missing something. The only advice I can give you to swing the dreaded X Factor in your favor is to write something you’re passionate about. Even if you’re writing Armageddon 2, create a character who’s going through the same trials and tribulations you are in life. You’ll then be able to connect with the character and, in turn, infuse your script with passion. Probably the best example of the X-factor’s influence on a script is American Beauty. A lot of people didn’t understand why they liked American Beauty. They just did. The Brigands of Rattleborge is another example. It just seeps into you for reasons unknown. I sometimes spend hours thinking about the X-Factor. How to quantify it. It’s the Holy Grail of screenwriting. Figure it out and you hold the key to writing great scripts for the rest of your life.

So there you have it. I’ve just given you the 13 keys to writing a great script. Now some of you have probably already come up with examples of great scripts that don’t contain these “rules.” And it’s true. Different stories have different requirements. So not every great script is going to contain all 13 of these elements. But you’ll be hard pressed to find a great script that doesn’t nail at least 10 of them. So now I’ll leave it up to you. What attributes do you consistently see in great scripts?

P.S. – Tomorrow I’ll post a review for a recent spec sale which you can read and break down to see if it has all 13 of these elements. So make sure to sign up for my Facebook Page or my Twitter so you’re updated when the post goes up. If I have to take the script link down, you’ll miss out.

Genre: Romantic Comedy
Premise: A young woman with low-self esteem begins dating an extremely attractive man.
About: Purchased by Mandate pictures, The Low Self Esteem of Lizzie Gillespie finished with 7 votes on last year’s Black List. Mindy Kaling plays Kelly Kapour on The Office, a show she also writes for. Brent Forrester has an impressive pedigree behind him. He’s worked on The Ben Stiller Show, The Simpsons, King of The Hill, wrote an episode of one of my favorite extinct shows ever, Undeclared, and also works as a writer on The Office.
Writers: Mindy Kaling and Brent Forrester
Details: 121 pages – June 17, 2009 (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time of the film’s release. 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).

You know I kind of like Mindy Kaling (Kelly Kapour on “The Office”). Here’s my only question for Mindy though. If she’s a writer on The Office, why doesn’t she write herself into more episodes? Kelly disappears for long stretches at a time, so much so that I’ll occasionally wonder if she’s still on the show. She’s a lot funnier than some of those people who get way more air time. That leads me to another question. In The Office, all Stanley does is sit at a desk all day. That’s his job. He never says anything or interacts with anyone. However long it takes to film those episodes, he just sits there. Does he consider himself the luckiest person ever to get paid to sit around and do nothing? Or is he frustrated that he’s basically a glorified extra?

I’m getting off track here. Okay, so, I always find it interesting when TV writers (specifically sitcom writers) cross over into features or vice versa. It’s a totally different beast, both ways, especially if you’re coming from the sit-com world. There’s some obvious crossover – the story element is similar and some of the character stuff is the same – but it’s a lot harder to build a story over a 110 minute period than it is 22 minutes. You have to know when to let the story breath, when to step on the gas, etc. It’s not as simple as writing longer scenes. So did Kaling and her writing partner, Brent Forrester, pull it off? Let us find out.

Lizzie’s never been the kind of girl to turn heads. She’s plump in a cute way, but you’d probably be stretching it to call her pretty. So it only makes sense that at some point in her life she made the decision to categorize all hot guys as unobtainable. As a result, Lizzie only dates dweeby dorky dudes who “look like Ira Glass.” I don’t know who Ira Glass is but with a name like that, I’m guessing he’s no Vin Diesel.

So one day, while taking her friend’s daughter to one of those cheesy low-budget Children’s Museum plays, she meets Patrick, who’s so good-looking he makes Brad Pitt self-conscious. Patrick’s a barely in-work actor (if you call children’s plays work) and also surprisingly humble. When Mindy bumps into him after one of his shows, the two hit it off in a weird way and agree to meet up later, amongst friends.

Lizzie thinks nothing of it because of her “never-believe-hot-guys-like-her” training. To her he’s just a dude who needs a friend. Her friends, however, are convinced he has the hots for her, and thus begins the awkward dance we’re all so familiar with you start hanging out with someone of the opposite sex and the signals get crossed and you’re stabbing yourself every night trying to figure out if it’s a friend thing or a let’s get jiggy with it thing. Thank God for Facebook flirting, right? Remember when you used to have to…gasp…call people to get an idea of how they felt?

Anyway, eventually the two end up together, and Lizzie has an entirely new set of problems, which involves combating her daily insecurities. For example, she refuses to get naked in front of Patrick out of fear he’ll think she’s fat. In case you were wondering if Lizzie has low self-esteem, she reminds you every chance she gets.

Then before she knows it, her insecurities get the better of her, and she inadvertently orchestrates her relationship’s demise. We’re left to wonder if it’s possible for a couple, whose looks are so far apart on the good-looking spectrum, to survive in an image-conscience world.

First, the good. Kaling and Forrester predictably have a knack for dialogue and character. All the characters here are memorable and fun. I wouldn’t call it a chuckle-fest but I laughed my share of times. For example, we get the most awkward dirty talk sex scene ever, (her previous boyfriend offers this weird commentary during some heated sex) “Are you my wife?” “Are you the mother of my kids?” And Lizzie’s friends are also pretty funny, such as when her best friend Maggie tries to cheer her up after Lizzie’s Ira-Glass-like boyfriend dumps her. He was a loser, she tells Lizzie. “Maybe he was a loser. But he loved me.” “He didn’t love you, he was sleeping with an anorexic vampire.” “Why would you mention how thin she was?”

But the problem here is exactly what I worried about from the beginning. There’s no real story to sink your teeth into.

Back in the day, most romantic comedies had a story behind them. In Pretty Woman, there’s the whole “he buys her for the week” angle. In Notting Hill there’s the whole “dating a movie star” angle. But then Judd Apatow came along and kind of changed the game, creating rom coms based more on ideas than on stories. 40 year old Virgin. Knocked Up. But see even those movies had something to hang their hat on. We want to see if Steve Carrell is going to get laid. We want to see if Seth Rogan can become responsible enough to raise a child. Here, the entire movie is based on the protagonist’s character flaw, Lizzie’s low self-esteem. Lizzie’s not really going after anything. She’s just living her life. And for a script that’s 120 pages, that’s not nearly enough to keep us engaged.

The characters end up wandering around a lot, and the above reason is why. If there’s no ultimate goal for our main character to try and achieve, no ticking time bomb pushing us forward, then there isn’t a whole lot for our characters to do but sit around and talk to each other. There’s really only one romantic comedy in history that got away with this and that’s When Harry Met Salley, which to this day is one of the biggest anomalies in screenwriting.

This script actually reminded me a lot of She’s Out Of My League, which I reviewed a long time ago and which I thought was a little better than this. The Low Self Esteem of Lizzie Gillespie has some bright moments. Let’s just hope the next draft builds more of a story around those moments.

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

What I learned: There are three types of goals you want for your characters. First is their story goal. What is it they’re after? This is the engine that drives your entire story so it’s the most important goal of the bunch. In The 40 Year Old Virgin, for example, Steve Carrel’s story goal is to get laid. The next type of goal is the immediate goal. This goal is constantly changing during the story and refers to whatever your character is trying to achieve right now. This is usually a subset of the main goal. Your character must get *this* (whatever “this” is) before they can get the final goal. Using 40-Year Old Virgin again, Steve Carrell first goes to a club to find a girl he can have sex with. His goal then, is simply to bring a woman home. A few scenes later, his goal is to try and ask the E-Bay store girl on a date. The final goal-type is one that’s the least utilized in movies, but important nonetheless. It’s your hero’s life goal. Beyond this story, what is it your character really wants? The reason a life goal is so important is because it often defines a person. When someone tells us what they want to do more than anything else in the world, that’s a pretty big indicator of who that person is. Lizzie has a nice life goal here. She wants to be a dramturge, which is the person who provides historical context at the beginning of a play. It’s weird and quirky and different, which are the same advectives you’d use to describe Lizzie. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

Ahhh, a day off. Remember when we used to have those? I mean sure, technically us in America have Memorial Day today and don’t have work, but somewhere around 10 years ago holidays just became “get all the shit done you couldn’t get done otherwise” days. There is no such thing as a day off anymore. And that’s good news for you guys because it means that you still get a review! Yahoooo! So I’m going to leave the rest to Roger as he busts out a script with so many genres it needs its own multiplex. Here’s “Howl…”

Genre: Time-travelling werewolf Western (Okay, okay: Adventure, Horror, Science Fiction, Western)
Premise: A time-travelling Texas Ranger has spent the past 500 years hunting a particularly nasty werewolf. When he finally corners him in modern-day Texas, he’ll need the help of an unlikely posse to save the world from chaos.
About: This script was picked up in 2001 by Warner Brothers sans producer with Lemkin attached to direct. Back in October, I reviewed another Lemkin script, titled $$$$$$, about a modern day city war in Los Angeles. Lemkin’s writing credits include Red Planet, The Devil’s Advocate, and Lethal Weapon 4. Upon being asked about “Howl” and his opportunity to direct, “It still makes me laugh and I assume still terrifies them which is why it hasn’t happened.”
Writer: Jonathan Lemkin
Details: Third Draft

If I wasn’t a fan of Lemkin after reading $$$$$$, well, “Howl” won me over a lot sooner than the moment when Wanda, an ex-stripper and Waffle House waitress who has been recruited into a posse of werewolf hunters by a time-travelling Texas Ranger, dons a scant Red Riding Hood outfit and black fuck-me pumps and lures an army of werewolves into a seedy alley that has been converted into a kill box by the posse.