Script link now up!!! :) :) :)

For the month of May, Scriptshadow will be foregoing its traditional reviewing to instead review scripts from you, the readers of the site. To find out more about how the month lines up, go back and read the original post here. The first week, we allowed any writers to send in their script for review. Last week, we raised the bar and reviewed repped writers only. This week, we’re doing something different. I read a lot of amateur scripts. Some through my notes service, some through contests, and some through referrals. I wanted to spend a week (or maybe two) highlighting some of the best scripts I’ve come across. All these scripts are available. So if you’re a buyer and it sounds like something you may be interested in, then get a hold of these writers through the contact information on their script before someone else does. Monday, Roger reviewed a cool script from Michael Stark titled, “Treading On Angles.” Tuesday, I reviewed our first female writer of Amateur Month, Lindsey, and her script, “Blue.” Wednesday I reviewed the sci-fi thriller/procedural, “Nine Gold Souls.” Yesterday, I reviewed another sci-fi piece, “The Translation.” And today I review a teenage thriller.

Genre: Thriller
Premise: Seven teenagers head into the Louisiana forest to celebrate a birthday. But when one of them is accidentally killed, the rest must figure out what to do with the body before the night is up.
About: Jared is repped by Sarah Self at The Gersh Agency and managed by Jim Thompson at Original Content.
Writer: Jared Romero
Details: 110 pages

Oh man, I still remember when I first read this script. It was in the same contest I read The Translation in and I had just read 40 horrible screenplays in a row. That’s the thing writers don’t get about readers, is they can read dozens and sometimes HUNDREDS of scripts until they find one that’s actually good. That’s why they’re so skeptical of your script. Cause the previous 99 were terrible! I was expecting another ho-hum teen-angst-thriller flick here, but what I got instead was an expertly crafted thrill ride.

So you want to know the number 1 way to get an agent? I’m going to tell you right now and I’ll use “Cylinder” as an example. After reading Cylinder last year I felt like my body had been injected with the same adrenaline as Jason Statham in Crank. It was a pure rush and I kept thinking, “This is really fucking good.”

So I e-mailed a writer I knew and I said, “I think this script is really fucking good (RFG).” And he was busy but he ended up reading it anyway and to my surprise he responded, “Yeah, this script is RFG. Let me give it to my agent.” His agent was at Gersh so he brought it to her and after reading it she agreed that it was “RFG,” so she signed him. And that’s it. That’s how you land an agent. You write a RFG script and you keep pushing it (to contests, friends, whatever) until sooner or later someone who matters gets their hands on it and gives you a break.

Ahh, but let’s remember the key to this whole equation working – The script has to be REALLY FUCKING GOOD. Do not begin this process if you have a script that’s SPBFTMPU (sorta pleasant but for the most part unentertaining). But wait, you say Carson, how do I know if my script is RFG???

I shall reveal to you now how to tell if your script is RFG. First, give it to a couple of friends. But before calling them to get their reactions, make sure to plug in your “friends always react more enthusiastically than they really feel when they read their screenwriter friend’s script” variable. In other words, if they say, “I thought it was pretty good,” it means they outright hated it.

However, if these friends are jumping out of their skin and can’t stop saying things like, “No, Diablo. This script is really really good. Like I was crying at the end,” and quoting lines back to you and coming up with inspired ideas to make it even better, and inquiring repeatedly in the coming weeks to find out who you’ve sent it to, well then your script is RFG and you should send it out.

But if they’re saying, “Yeah, it was good,” in the same voice people use when they tell the parents of an ugly baby how cute he is (you know what I’m talking about – where they won’t make eye contact when they say it?), then don’t waste people’s time. Continue working on the craft and start something new. Cause if there’s one thing I’ve learned about contacts/friends/family, it’s that they form an opinion about you the first time they see your work and they NEVER change that opinion.

Hey wait a minute. Aren’t I supposed to be reviewing a script? Right. “Cylinder.”

Okay, so Cylinder has an admittedly simple premise. But where it excels is in its EXECUTION.

It’s Charlie Robichaux’s birthday. He’s 17 years old. The world could not be more firmly fitted in the palm of Charlie’s hand. He’s a nice kid, a smart kid, an ideal best friend, would give you his last dollar if you needed it. The only negative in Charlie’s life is his workaholic father, a District Attorney who’s cracking down on today’s reckless youth. If your kid drunk drives and kills an innocent civilian, Charlie’s dad is the one who will make sure he goes to jail for the rest of his life.

Immediately after meeting Charlie, we’re introduced to his friends. There’s cute Sam, a blonde girl-next-door type who’s got a crush on Charlie. There’s the dorky Theo. There’s the drop dead gorgeous Laurie (Meghan Fox type – which is good cause I hear she needs a job). There’s preppy Matt. And there’s Jackson, a bit of a townie. While this group wouldn’t normally all hang out together, it’s Charlie’s birthday so an exception is made.

As a present, they drive him out into a clearing in the Louisiana forest to an old deserted mansion so they can get drunk and fuck around. But things get interesting when Jackson pulls out a revolver. Some of the guys freak out. Others laugh. It’s just a gun, they say. But that gun becomes their central source of entertainment. They set up a makeshift shooting range with beer bottles and the fun begins.

In the meantime Charlie and Sam escape, and she finally reveals to Charlie her hidden crush. The two start making out. It’s quickly turning into the best birthday party Charlie has ever had and then…and then something goes horribly wrong. Sam pulls away to find Charlie non-responsive. That’s when she notices the large hole in his head with blood gushing out. Charlie’s been killed by a stray bullet.

Now there aren’t many times I’m genuinely SHOCKED while reading a screenplay. But this shocked me. And the funny thing is, we were just talking about this the other day (or at least I was talking about it. I don’t know if you guys were). They just killed off the main fucking character!!! I was SO shocked, in fact, I actually went back and re-read the scene. Did they just really do that? Did they kill off the protagonist?? This had to be how audiences felt when they first saw Psycho (I never experienced that feeling as the first time I saw Psycho, I’d already been told what would happen).

This was such a brilliant move on so many levels. We were excited for Charlie’s future. We identified with him. And the second he dies…we feel completely lost. Now what? Now who? What the HELL is going on? Who’s our lead? Who’s going to carry us through the rest of the story??

And this isn’t even the only great moment in Cylinder. There’s two of them. Later on there is, if it’s ever filmed, what will be known as the greatest Russian Roulette scene ever etched in celluloid (or digitoid). It’s ten dozen kinds of awesome.

After Charlie’s death, the group begins a mad dash to figure out how to deal with the situation. Some want to go to the cops. But that will most surely ruin their lives. The colleges they got into, their standing in the community. All of that will go up in smoke. So they begin to concoct a plan B. Problem is, the longer the decision-making goes, the less they begin to trust each other, and the more drastic the actions they take.

Cylinder takes what would normally be a predictable setup, throws a twist into it, then takes what would normally be a sloppy execution, and crafts a set of sequences that keep us engaged the entire time. I can’t stress how often these kinds of scripts devolve into a repetitive sloppy narrative. But Romero has carefully plotted out each sequence so that the chaos has form, so that there’s a method to the madness. The result is a confident story that always knows where it’s going.

I also loved how honest the conflict read. Once Charlie’s dead, you really get the sense that these characters are weighing their futures against the cover-up. They know Charlie’s father is the D.A. They know he’ll make sure none of them have anything resembling a life for as long as they live. So watching that inner conflict play out with the characters who loved Charlie the most, the ones who were closest to him, the ones who know what the *right* thing to do is, that’s where the script really shines.

I don’t really have many criticisms except that the concept is a little bland. When you hear it, you don’t think, “Oh cool, I’ve never heard of a movie like that before.” So the lack of a wow factor has kept this manimal from being unleashed. Cylinder used to have a sloppy first act. But Jared has since streamlined it and it reads effortlessly now. This is just a really prime example of great execution. I hope someone finds this and does something with it.

Script link: Cylinder

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

What I learned: I’m going to stay on my whole “RFG” kick and talk about gauging the quality of your own script. And I want to discuss it in regards to getting notes back. Unless you’re receiving notes from a professional, it’s your job to “read” into the intent of the note, because if you’re giving your script to a friend or acquaintance, they’re not going to be honest with you. Think about the consequences if your friend tells you they hate it. You’ll be pissed at them and potentially permanently damage the relationship. So instead they’re going to be critical in the nicest possible way. I’ll never forget this note I received on a scene in a script I wrote a long time ago from a friend who worked in the industry. The script was a drama (important) and the scene was a traditional guy meets girl scene. The characters are outside a restaurant when they run into each other. He introduces himself. They talk. He gets her number. After saying goodbye, he turns around and promptly runs STRAIGHT INTO A TREE and falls on his ass! Now I thought this was the funniest thing that could possibly ever happen in a movie at the time (I know – I was deeply disturbed back then). But for whatever reason, my friend just couldn’t understand it. She kept asking, very politely, why, in a drama, people were crashing into trees and falling on their ass. I chalked it up to her just not “getting me,” and kept the scene. Cut to me reading the script three years later and realizing it was THE WORST SCENE IN THE HISTORY OF EXISTENCE! I replayed our conversations in my head and I realized that she wasn’t “politely” asking me why I had the scene in there. She was trying to say, albeit in the nicest possible way, that the scene SUCKED BEYOND ALL RECOGNITION because it made absolutely no sense and violated the tone I’d spent the previous 40 pages setting up and was essentially a Three Stooges prat fall in the middle of Terms Of Endearment. The point I’m making is, because I was focusing on *what* she said – that she disagreed with the choice – I missed out on what she was *trying* to say: “You need to get rid of this scene or readers are going to think you’re a two-bit hack.” So always take into consideration that friends and family are going to be nice to you when giving notes. It’s YOUR job to read into what they *really* mean.

In fact, I’m going to pose a challenge to the Scriptshadow readers. I want you to call up the last person who read one of your scripts and I want you to say to them, “Joe, remember that script I sent you? Remember everything you said? I want you to pretend like you’re talking to someone you don’t know right now. I want you to be brutally honest. What did you think?” And I want you to write the responses down here in the comments section, good or bad. Then take it one step further. Ask them WHY they felt that way. Try to get to essence of their issue with your script so you can improve.

For the month of May, Scriptshadow will be foregoing its traditional reviewing to instead review scripts from you, the readers of the site. To find out more about how the month lines up, go back and read the original post here. The first week, we allowed any writers to send in their script for review. Last week, we raised the bar and reviewed repped writers only. This week, we’re doing something different. I read a lot of amateur scripts. Some through my notes service, some through contests, and some through referrals. I wanted to spend a week (or maybe two) highlighting some of the best scripts I’ve come across. All these scripts are available. So if you’re a buyer and it sounds like something you may be interested in, then get a hold of these writers through the contact information on their script before someone else does. Monday, Roger reviewed a cool script from Michael Stark titled, “Treading On Angles.” Tuesday, I reviewed our first female writer of Amateur Month, Lindsey, and her script, “Blue.” Yesterday I reviewed the sci-fi’ish thriller/procedural, “Nine Gold Souls.” And today I’m reviewing…the next Blade Runner?

Genre: Sci-fi
Premise: In the year 2054, a widowed cop’s job is to hunt down fugitive “translations,” organically created replacements of lost loved ones. After a mysterious murder, he finds himself on the run with a translation of his wife.
About: Aaron is managed by Mad Hatter Entertainment, but does not have agency representation yet. I read this script over a year ago as part of a small contest I held over on the Done Deal message boards. Aaron lives far away from the Los Angeles borders, in St. Louis, Missouri.
Writer: Aaron Coffman
Details: 113 pages

The Translation is another script I read over a year ago and I’ll be honest, when I started reading it, I wasn’t sure if it was going to be any good. As is the trouble with most sci-fi scripts, the writer is tasked with educating the audience about the rules (the “science”) of their world in a very short period of time. And there’s so much to learn here, I initially had trouble keeping up. But once the main story kicked in, I found myself drawn into this modern day Blade Runner tale and loving every minute of it.

It’s 2054. William Monroe is a cop, but a cop with a very specific job – to take down “twigs.” Twigs is the street name for “translations,” copies of people grown to replace lost loved ones – kinda like being able to clone your dog.

Unfortunately, during the time it takes to grow a translation (2 years), many families go through the grieving process and, to put it simply, change their mind. The problem is, society doesn’t know what to do with these discarded clones. And since they can’t be killed, they’re dumped into a sectioned-off ghetto, left to live with only a half the rights real citizens have.

Monroe has a hate-hate relationship with these human copies. He thinks they’re worthless, a mistake society’s made and is too afraid to clean up. So when they escape the ghetto, he’s the one who finds them and does whatever it takes to eliminate the problem.

Monroe takes his job seriously because it’s the only thing he has. His wife, Alyssa, was killed two years ago in a terrorist attack.

Against his wishes, Alyssa’s high-profile parents went ahead and had Alyssa translated, a process only days now from finishing. But when they’re abruptly and mysteriously murdered, the only person left to pick up Alyssa, or this copy of Alyssa, is Monroe. And he’s not happy about it.

It’s supposed to be simple. Monroe picks her up, takes her to the Translation Ghetto, and drops her off. But as soon as he gets her, the fully grown up but childlike curiosity of Alyssa begins spouting off other plans. She keeps remembering and wants to go to a place called “Beacon Point,” and while Monroe won’t show his cards, it’s clear the name means something to him.

But that ends up being the least of his worries. Within hours, there’s a shadowy group following them and trying to kill Alyssa. Could this have something to do with her parents being murdered? Monroe is forced into the role of protector, but much worse, into sharing time and space with this shell of a body that looks and acts so much like his wife. He knows it’s not her. He knows his duty is to bring translations in, not protect them. But he can’t help but fight for this woman, even if it’s not the woman he once loved.

Like I said above, The Translation is similar in a lot of respects to Blade Runner, most notably in tone. It’s a dark dreary future where most of the people are just trying to make it through the day.

But I think what separates The Translation from other movies is the intriguing love story at its core. Here’s a man who worked so hard to get over the surprise death of his wife, and now he’s forced to look her in the eye every second of this harrowing journey. We sense that a part of him wants to give in, wants to believe that she is, indeed, his wife. But he knows that logically that’s impossible. And it’s this central conflict that drives the story.

I also like the pace of the script. Every time you think Monroe and Alyssa are okay, they’re immediately back on the run again. It’s almost like The Bourne movies stumbled into a Blade Runner shoot – the best of both worlds.

But that world isn’t perfect. I loved Monroe but I thought Alyssa strayed from what made her so endearing at times. She’s best when she’s tender, curious, innocent, like a child. But after she starts learning the truth, she becomes angry, almost violent, and it was a little too out-of-character in my opinion.

The opening act is also an issue. And it’s not that I don’t recognize the challenge in writing it. Normally, your job in the first act is to set up 2 things: your plot and your characters. But when you write a sci-fi or fantasy film, you have to set up both those things *in addition to* your sci-fi world. In other words, you have to smoosh 33% more information into the opening 25 pages. As a result, your first act will feel jumbled or dense – not unlike you’re reading the Encyclopedia Britannica. That’s what it felt like here for me.

In addition, I thought some of the chase scenes could’ve been more imaginative. There’s a great car chase early on where Monroe is trying to elude the bad guys after Alyssa’s lost her breathing mask (worn until translations can breathe in the real world). The combination of being shot at from the outside and Alyssa dying on the inside made for an intense sequence. But after that, the chases become a little too “been there, done that.” And this is something I tell writers a lot. There’s a chase scene in almost every single movie ever made. So you can’t take short cuts when write your own. You have to try and be original.

In “Déjà vu,” (one of the biggest spec sales ever), they had a car chase where a character in the present is chasing a character in the past. The execution was shoddy on-screen but the point is, they were thinking outside the box. They were trying to do something different (I also have a feeling that that scene was a big part of why that script sold for so much – talk about delivering on the promise of the premise!)

Despite these problems, I really dug The Translation. I always go back and forth on which act is most important, but after reading this script, I’m reminded that the second act is probably the most important act in the script. It’s where you deal with your central conflict (in this case, the relationship between Monroe and Alyssa) and if that central conflict isn’t compelling, the reader gets bored and won’t give a shit what happens in the end. I thought the second act here was really strong and what separated The Translation from the rest of the competition.

Script link: The Translation (proper draft now up)

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

What I learned: Sci-fi pieces are tough, especially when they take place in a distant future or a far off land. Some writers try and weave the key details of their world into the opening act organically, like Aaron does here in The Translation. But this is really hard to do. A much cleaner method is to use a TEXT CRAWL or an OPENING VOICE OVER. What these do is they get the pertinent information about your world out of the way so you don’t have to spend precious story time dealing with it. The most obvious example is Star Wars, which explains its world to you in the opening crawl. Jake Sulley gets us up to speed in Avatar right away via voice over. Still another method, and probably the most viewer-friendly, is to open with a scene that acts as a setup to the world. In “The Fifth Element” for example, we have this entertaining opening sequence in the Egyptian pyramids that sets up the whole backstory for the “fifth element,” so we don’t need to wonder what the hell everyone is talking about later on. Whatever the case, consider using the first minute or three of your story to lay out your sci-fi world via text or voice over so you can use your opening act to do what it’s supposed to do – tell the story and entertain us!

For the month of May, Scriptshadow will be foregoing its traditional reviewing to instead review scripts from you, the readers of the site. To find out more about how the month lines up, go back and read the original post here. The first week, we allowed any writers to send in their script for review. Last week, we raised the bar and reviewed repped writers only. This week, we’re doing something different. I read a lot of amateur scripts. Some through my notes service, some through contests, and some through referrals. I wanted to spend a week (or maybe two) highlighting some of the best scripts I’ve come across. All these scripts are available. So if you’re a buyer and it sounds like something you may be interested in, then get a hold of these writers through the contact information on their script before someone else does. Monday, Roger reviewed a cool script from Michael Stark titled, “Treading On Angles.” Yesterday, I reviewed our first female writer of Amateur Month, Lindsey, and her script, “Blue.” And today I’m reviewing the sci-fi’ish thriller/procedural, “Nine Gold Souls.”

Genre: Procedural Sci-Fi/Contained Thriller
Premise: A fallen psychiatrist who used to cater to the world’s most intelligent minds is asked to help investigate a murder in a secluded government operated Victorian mansion where nine of the smartest people in the world reside.
About: For those of you looking for the first truly undiscovered unrepresented talent here on Favorites Week, you’re not going to find it in Dave. He’s been writing for a long time. But I read Nine Gold Souls over a year ago, before Dave found work on NCIS: Los Angeles, which puts the script in line with what we’re trying to do this week. Plus Dave has never sold a screenplay, which I hope will change after they read this.
Writer: Dave Kalstein
Details: 114 pages

Nine Gold Souls has a golden premise, one of those concepts you try to catch up to after the light turns green cause you just have to take another look. While yesterday’s script is the one I’d bet on most likely becoming a movie, Nine Gold Souls is the first script I’d take into development if I started a studio.

The story follows ex-psychiatrist Jake, a former golden boy whose patients included many of the smartest people in the world. If Bill Gates needed a psychiatrist, Jake is the first person he’d call. But that was a long time ago, and these days, Jake is a self-medicating candidate for A&E’s “Intervention.” Although the details aren’t revealed to us yet, we get the sense that a lot of it has to do with the day he found out his teenage son was autistic. Here Jake is, one of the smartest people in the world, and his offspring is considered barely functional by society.

Just as Jake’s at his lowest point, he’s approached by the U.S. government. They need his help. Tucked away inside a remote mountainous area, unknown to the public, is a huge Victorian mansion. Inside that mansion are nine of the smartest people in the world, and one of them has just been murdered. Hush-hush “dark science” government projects don’t exactly rely on local law enforcement, so they need Jake, one of the smartest people in the world, to help them. The idea is, he’ll come in, question the residents of the house, and see if he can’t find out who the killer is. If he does, they’ll get him back his license.

So Jake is flown into this isolated world where he meets the eight remaining occupants. Among them are beautiful sisters Charlotte and Emily, bookworm-ish Newton, the mysterious Pascal, the “dandy” Edison, and the 16 year old polymath, Mozart. These are, of course, code names the government has assigned them to protect their identities. Soon Jake learns that before the murder occurred, the group was working on a top secret project. But what was it? Unfortunately, since each of them only knows of their own specific task, they can’t say. But this has just turned from a “simple” murder investigation into something much bigger.

As Jake continues his investigation, one murder turns into two, and two into three. Jake is so consumed with finding the cheese, that he doesn’t realize he’s walked into a mousetrap. Will he get out alive? Will he find out what’s really going on here? And how does it tie into him? Heh heh heh. You’ll have to read Nine Gold Souls to find out. :)

First thing I noticed about the script was the slight twist on the contained thriller genre. A lot of these CTs play inside dirty gritty worlds. Nine Gold Souls has more of an upscale feel to it – 9 of the smartest people on the planet stuck in a stately Victorian mansion – the only way in or out by helicopter. When you hear that confusing cliche of Hollywood wanting something “the same but different,” this is what they’re talking about. We get one of these contained thrillers that have been doing so well lately (same) but framed inside a mansion full of geniuses (different).

The opening scene here is also amazing. A good opening scene can focus a tired reader immediately, and this one doesn’t disappoint. We’re hanging out with a group of weird but frighteningly intelligent people in a mysterious Victorian mansion. One of them is murdered. Then we pull away to find out the mansion is in a barren field surrounded on all sides by mountains. As a reader I sit up after that and go, “Okay, you’ve got me.”

The first half of the second act is excellent as well. I love how we not only unfold the mystery inside the mansion, but unfold Jake’s mystery as well. And when (spoiler!) Jake finds out there could potentially be a cure for autism in the house, well, that’s when things really heat up. Of all the things you can do to help your story, creating a determined and highly motivated main character is somewhere near the top of the list. And that’s exactly what Jake is.

As much as I loved this concept though, I think the execution needs work in places. And Dave knows this. He sent the script as a work in progress and that’s how it feels at times, especially in the second half.

The big observation I had was that he needed to go further with the characters. He needed to make them more unique, more radical, more memorable. What we have to realize is that, at its core, this is a character-piece. We may have walked through the door because of the pitch, but we’re not staying unless the conversation is riveting. And the only two characters that noticeably stand out are Jake and Mozart. Everyone else was interesting but they weren’t memorable in the way that, say, the characters from “The Usual Suspects” were memorable. And I remember telling him this. When you have a character dominated piece, you want to think like an actor. You want to build characters that actors will die to play. Not *want* to play. But the kind they’ll rob, pillage, and maim to play. Each one of these characters has the potential to be that kind of game-changer. But they’re a mix of too conservative and too tame in this rendition.

Despite that, you can’t put Nine Gold Souls down til the final page and I just love love love the upside this script has. I can’t imagine someone not wanting to take a crack at developing it. It’s just a really cool idea.

Script link: Nine Gold Souls

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

What I learned: In Nine Gold Souls, one of the characters dies early on (after Jake gets to the house). However, the scene didn’t resonate with me because I didn’t know the character that well. This is actually a common practice in screenwriting. The less interesting/complex a character is, the earlier on you kill them off. Why? Because you don’t want to waste your cool characters. The more interesting a character is, the longer you want them around. But I think it’s a mistake to rule out killing your interesting characters early and here’s why. First, you can really shock an audience when you kill off a well-developed/compelling character early. Go watch Scream if you don’t believe me. And two, we as an audience lose our sense of security when a well-developed character dies. Afterwards we think, “Jesus Christ. If *they* can die, then *anybody* can die.” It lets your audience know that you’re not playing by the rules, and that anything can happen. So don’t always be predictable and kill off your characters in reverse order of how interesting they are. Shock us every once in awhile.

For the month of May, Scriptshadow will be foregoing its traditional reviewing to instead review scripts from you, the readers of the site. To find out more about how the month lines up, go back and read the original post here. The first week, we allowed any writers to send in their script for review. Last week, we raised the bar and reviewed repped writers only. This week, we’re doing something different. I read a lot of amateur scripts. Some through my notes service, some through contests, and some through referrals. I wanted to spend a week (or maybe two) highlighting some of the best scripts I’ve come across. All these scripts are available. So if you’re a buyer and it sounds like something you may be interested in, then get a hold of these writers through the contact information on their script before someone else does. Yesterday, Roger reviewed a cool script from Michael Stark titled, “Treading On Angles.” Today, I’m reviewing our first female writer of Amateur Month, Lindsey, and her script, “Blue.”

Genre: Indie Dramedy
Premise: In 1998, at the height of the Monica Lewinsky scandal, a high school girl becomes a local celebrity when she produces a line of dresses based on the famous blue dress Monica Lewinsky wore while having “relations” with the president.
About: When I read this script almost a half year ago, Lindsey was a struggling writer who’d been battling the industry head first for a number of years. This story probably would’ve been better had she still been stuck on that path. But a couple of weeks ago somebody else finally recognized Lindsey’s talent as well. I’m happy to announce that Lindsey just signed with Energy Entertainment. Congrats Lindsey. You deserve it!
Writer: Lindsey Rosin
Details: 104 pages

So of all the scripts I’m reviewing this week, if you made me bet on which one I thought was most likely to become a movie, this is the one I would choose. It may be a small story, but it’s the kind of story that the indie circuit was designed for (heh heh, get it? “Designed?”). Reading through this a second time, I could actually hear the Sundance buzz from a few years from now. I’ll get into why I liked it in a moment. First, let me tell you what it’s about.

It’s 1998 and Zoey Ressler is a naïve idealistic 16 year old coming into her body. She has no idea how beautiful she is, and in her world, the only thing that matters is love. Or, at least, the idea of it. Zoey lives in a family with her sexy but slutty older sister, Rose, and her loving mother and father, Corinne and Victor, two parents who the honeymoon never ended for. Zoey seemingly has a pretty sweet life.

Zoey works at Swirlies, a mall-y-ish ice cream shop, where she’s secretly enamored with 21 year old Jimmy, either a drop-out or entrepreneur, depending on who you’re having the conversation with (if it’s Jimmy, he’s an entrepreneur). Zoey is finding herself more and more attracted to boys, but doesn’t quite know how to finagle her crushes into relationships. As a result, she spends a lot of time at her mother’s struggling thrift store, where she occasionally sews together a dress or two.

And then one day everything changes. Major news outlets break the story that Bill Clinton has had sexual relations with an intern named Monica Lewinsky. It’s a shocking accusation and, as everyone knows, becomes the only thing that anybody in the world talks about. It’s a particularly confusing time for someone like Zoey, who sees the world only through her black and white idealistic filter. “Cheating” is not in her vocabulary.

But soonafter, Zoey reads a story where Monica Lewinsky claims to love Bill Clinton. It’s a particularly relatable situation for her, and the next thing you know, Monica becomes a sort of pseudo-role model for Zoey. So when it’s revealed that Bill Clinton, um, well, let’s just say it, splooged on a blue dress of Monica’s, something clicks in Zoey. What if she made a blue dress, claiming it was the exact same dress-type that the president famously…splooged on?

Now you have to remember, a picture of the dress Monica Lewinsky wore was not immediately released at the time. So nobody knew what it looked like. This is what allows Zoey to create a beautiful blue dress, promote it at her mother’s store as “The Monica,” and see if it sells. Well, it sells all right. And soon, she’s making a whole batch of them. And they’re flying off the shelves like White House pancakes. The dress becomes such a sensation, even the local media covers it.

This, of course, raises Zoey’s profile at school, and soon she’s being noticed by the cool girls and pursued by Mr. Popular, Nick Conway. Then, just when things seem to be reaching an apex, a series of setbacks at school, home, and in the Lewinsky scandal, shatter her idealistic notion of love. “Blue” is about a naïve girl who falsely designs a famous blue dress for a role model she probably shouldn’t have. But it’s also a coming-of-age story about a girl who’s hit with the realities of an increasingly loveless world.

I can’t exactly explain why I liked this script so much but I’m going to try. First, it just has this honesty about it. While at first the idea of a girl dedicating her skills to making a cum-stained blue dress based on a media phenomenon sounds far-fetched, a second look shows that it’s not as “out there” as you think. I don’t know about you but when I was 16, I didn’t exactly place the right people up on a pedestal either. My role models were a sorry bunch of you-know-whats but you wouldn’t be able to tell me that at the time. So the fact that Zoey idolizes Monica for the wrong reasons is a very “teenage” thing to do. This naiveté is also what makes her such an endearing character. Even though we know she shouldn’t be doing what she’s doing, we find it cute, so we root for her.

But the real strength here is the way Lindsey takes on a full cast of characters and breathes life into each and every one of them. I warn young writers all the time: Don’t fuck around with ensemble pieces! It’s too hard to write multiple unique and compelling characters. Focus on creating one dynamo character as that alone is a daunting challenge. There’s nothing uglier than flipping back and forth between characters that are thinner than an ipad.

But that just doesn’t happen here. Between Zoey, the parents, the sister, the boyfriend, Zoey’s best friend…all of these characters came to life for me. They had a pulse. Why? Cause they were DOING things. They weren’t waiting around for the main character to show up in their world. You got the feeling that their lives existed whether Zoey was around or not. There’s this notion of “negative space” that I’m not going to get into now but basically it’s the idea that your secondary characters are still doing things when they’re off-screen. Some teachers will even tell you to write the scenes for the off-screen characters that the audience will never see. It’s a great exercise because it instills the notion that each character is the star of their own movie. This might be Zoey’s story, but it doesn’t mean we couldn’t find a compelling movie surrounding her father, or her sister. I really got the sense that Lindsey understood that, and we reap the benefits of it.

I don’t have many complaints. There’s one, which I won’t go into because it’s a twist that happens later on and I don’t want to reveal it. It’s the only thing that doesn’t feel like a natural extension of the story. And I told Lindsey how I felt but she gave me her reasons why she did it and I do sorta understand where she’s coming from. But outside of that, I just thought this was a great little story. And even though this is a HUGE statement, I suspect we’ll be seeing “Blue” on the big screen someday.

If you’re a producer who would like to read the script please contact Jennifer Graham at Management 360

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

What I learned: If you are doing a period piece, even if that period piece is from a few years ago, GET YOUR DETAILS RIGHT. There were a couple of things here where I said, “I don’t know if they had that back in 1998.” For example, there was an IM’ing scene. So I did a quick check on Wikipedia and I found…that AOL IM’ing *did* arrive around 1996. So Lindsey was safe. But it reminded me of all the period scripts I read where writers DON’T do their homework. They have characters texting back in 1993, charactres googling back in 1997, and the WORST is when characters use phrases that nobody would’ve used at that time. Nobody said “That’s tight,” back in 1989 people! This may seem trivial, but it’s an indication that you don’t care enough about your story to get the details right. And the second a reader feels like you don’t care, they’re going to stop caring too. It happens ALL THE TIME when I read scripts.

For the month of May, Scriptshadow will be foregoing its traditional reviewing to instead review scripts from you, the readers of the site. To find out more about how the month lines up, go back and read the original post here. Last week, we allowed any writers to send in their script for review. This week, we’re raising the bar and reviewing repped writers only. The caveat is that they cannot have a sale to their name. The idea here is to give aspiring writers an idea of the quality of writing it takes to have a professional manager or agent take an interest in your work. Monday, Roger reviewed the Western, “Quicker Than The Eye.” Tuesday, I reviewed the 80s’esque comedy “Duty.” Wednesday, I reviewed the JFK thriller “The Shadow Before.” Thursday I reviewed another thriller called “Skin.” And today, I take on a Rom-Com. Rom-Com nuts unite!

Genre: Comedy/Romantic Comedy
Premise: A recently broken-hearted man returns to his hometown to have a guys weekend with his (also recently broken-hearted) best friend, only to find out that his ex is in town doing the exact same thing, forcing them to avoid each other at all costs.
About: Our fifth and final script of Repped Week. David DeGrow Shotwell & Steven Michael Walters are repped by APA.
Writers: David DeGrow Shotwell & Steven Michael Walters
Details: 106 pages

So I decided to save my favorite script of the week for last. And this one was a bit of a surprise, because it started off like any other “Guys get together and talk about chicks” script. The setup was too obvious and the characters bordering on thin. The comedic sidekick, in particular, was hogging the spotlight, and he felt more like his own movie than he did part of a movie. I’m not a fan of this because I don’t like sacrificing story for laughs. I always think story should come first, even in a comedy.

So I’m going to go on a tangent here and you have to join me because it’s Friday and shit gets crazy on Fridays. I call characters like the one I mentioned above “Last Comic Standing” characters. And let me explain why. I went to a party one night long ago and this guy approached me and he said, “Hey man, how’s it going?” And I said, “Fine.” And he replied, “Yo, have you seen the kitchen in this place? I’ve seen closets with nicer sinks.” I thought that was kind of a weird way to start a conversation, but it’s not like I knew anyone else here, so I couldn’t run. He followed that up with, “And what’s up with the hills in this town? I feel like I’m a rat in a maze. I’d rather get stuck in the Sahara Desert than the Hollywood Hills, you know what I mean?” No, I didn’t know what he meant. I also noticed the guy was wearing a big plastic smile while he spoke. This was starting to get creepy.

“And this beer. Helloooooo. I’ve tasted cow urine better than this!” This weirdo proceeded to give me two minutes of the most random observations you could think of before it finally hit me. He was a stand-up comedian! He was trying out his “act” on me! Going out and testing his material on “the real world.” He never let me talk or respond or engage or anything. He just made his jokes and waited for me to either laugh or not laugh.

I bring this up because this is the “Last Comic Standing” approach I see in so many bad comedy specs. The story is almost non-existent. It’s just an excuse to put a character “up on stage” and let him riff through a bunch of scenes. There’s no connection to the story, to the other characters, to the plot or to the theme. As a result, the audience feels a bit like I did talking to that nutcase at the party. Like they’ve been given tickets to a Saturday afternoon show at the Laugh Factory.

A screenplay is about creating a universe and having your characters live and breathe within that universe. If it ever feels like that universe is put on hold so your hero can do his Rodney Dangerfield impression, the illusion of the story (the “suspension of disbelief”) is gone. And since most production companies are looking for stories and not stand-up acts, it’s best to adhere to this principle.

When I started “The Rebound,” I was immediately worried about this. The plot follows Stan, a recent LA implant who’s been dumped by the love of his life. Stan’s best friend Jeff, who’s never grown up because he’s a Toys-R-Us kid, has just booked Stan on the next flight back to their hometown so they can compete in a Guitar Hero contest that weekend (for Jeff’s band “Whore Parade Route”), and Stan can experience a little hometown healing.

We’re thrown into Jeff and his buddies talking about banging bitches and getting ready for their big Guitar Hero performances. Jeff has also just broken up with his girlfriend, Kara, and wants to win the competition so he can bang as many “groupies” as possible. It’s all Jeff all the time and since the story (a Guitar Hero tournament?) is thinner than plywood, it just felt like an excuse to have a bunch of funny conversations.

However, as soon as Stan gets into town and he learns that Cathy (his ex) is also in for the weekend, the script starts to formulate. Stan’s upset, because this was supposed to be a weekend of healing. And Cathy isn’t thrilled because now she’s going to be tempted to talk to him. The goal then becomes to avoid each other so they don’t fall back into a situation they know will never work.

So Stan runs into an old girlfriend from high school and Cathy meets a sophisticated older guy with all the qualities Stan doesn’t have. These two become foils for what we ultimately want to happen, which is for Stan and Cathy to meet up and get back together. But the longer the story goes, the less likely it is that that will happen. We’re essentially watching a movie where the two main characters never meet. It’s sort of a cross between Swingers and Sleepless In Seattle.

There are a few things that really make this story work. First, it has a natural ticking time bomb – the weekend. I like the way it’s slyly placed there but never addressed. We just know that when the weekend is over, these two go back to their own worlds and that’s it.

Also, we really like Stan and Cathy. They’re both honest, funny, endearing people. For that reason, as the script goes on, we become more and more attached to their situation and want them to get together. In fact, I kept checking the pages numerous times going, “Page 60?? And they still haven’t seen each other??? What if they don’t see each other at all??”

But where “The Rebound” separates itself from the amateur ranks is in how it addresses its secondary characters, namely Kara and Jeff. They start off being the goofy comedic sidekicks, but eventually learn something and change into better people. In amateur comedy scripts, you never see this. All of the supporting characters are usually flat and boring because they’re exactly the same at the end of the movie as they were at the beginning. In other words, they’re just there to do their stand up routine and get out. It was really refreshing to discover that Jeff was more than a few silly lines.

My only real complaint here is that the first 30 or so pages indicate a more juvenile story than it ends up becoming. Once we got into the actual relationships (Stan meets his girl and Cathy meets her guy), the script hits its stride. This might need a few rewrites to bring out every scene’s full potential, but I could definitely see this as a movie.

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

What I learned: Whenever you have a straight man in a comedy, you usually contrast him with a goofy/extreme sidekick character. Sean William Scott’s character in Role Models. Spike in Notting Hill. Any of the 3 guys opposite Jason Biggs in American Pie. From my experience (and this isn’t always the case, but mostly), secondary characters who are the same at the end of the movie as they were at the beginning, are boring. Just because someone is a comedic sidekick doesn’t mean he can’t or shouldn’t be explored on a deeper level. In the end of Notting Hill, Spike learns to take love more seriously. In Role Models, Scott learns to actually give a shit. And in American Pie, all of the supporting players overcome their individual flaws by the end of the film. Take a look at your comedy script. Do your supporting characters change? Do they learn anything from this journey? If not, consider changing it so they do. It will make your script a lot better, and it will show readers you know what you’re doing.