Genre: Comedy
Premise: (from IMDB) A comedy centered around a foul-mouthed, junior high teacher who, after being dumped by her sugar daddy, begins to woo a colleague — a move that pits her against a well-loved teacher.
About: “Bad Teacher” sold as a spec back in 2008, the same year it made the Black List. It was written by the same writers who penned “Year One,” and “Ghostbusters 3” (or at least some draft of Ghostbusters 3). Jake Kasdan (Zero Effect, Orange County) is set to direct, with “I am now an actor” Justin Timberlake playing the male lead alongside his former girlfriend, Cameron Diaz. The movie is filming right now. Eisenberg and Stupnitsky, the writers, also wrote for “The Office.”
Writers: Lee Eisenberg & Gene Stupnitsky
Details: June 6, 2008, spec sale 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).

I’ll be honest with you, the thought of Cameron Diaz and Justin Timberlake pairing up for a movie together doesn’t exactly get my old N’Sync juices flowing, but I read Bad Teacher long before these two were attached, and remember it being a lot spicier than your average sweet-potato comedy spec. This new word I keep hearing myself bat around these days is “teeth.” So many scripts I read don’t have teeth. They don’t bite into you. They’re more likely to politely rub against you or nudge you lovingly. But every story needs a little teeth, a little edge to set it apart from the pack. And that’s what I remembered about Bad Teacher. It had teeth.

Elizabeth Halsey is not a good person. In fact, she makes Melvin Udall, from As Good As It Gets, look like the milkman. Elizabeth has one desire and one desire only – to marry a man with money – the American dream for hot lazy women with no skillset everywhere. And Elizabeth has finally achieved that dream, finding a short bald troll-like man with lots of moola and an astute inability to know when he’s being taken advantage of. Or maybe not. Yes, Elizabeth’s dreams come crashing down when she walks in on her future Bilbo Baggins pulling a Jesse James with some gigantically breasted whore. It is such a devastating moment for Elizabeth that she’s barely able to spit out: “You are buying me the biggest pair of yellow diamond earrings they make!” Yeah, Elizabeth is a teensy bit materialistic. And vain. And a bitch. And cruel. But all of those adjectives pale in comparison to what Elizabeth is now: Single. Cue hard rock music!

Back Elizabeth goes into her own personal hell, that goddamned middle school, and boy is she pissed about it. So pissed, in fact, that she takes it out directly on her kids. A class with Elizabeth is like a day when the substitute shows up. If that substitute were a drunk reckless asshole who hated you. But Elizabeth has a plan. In her universe of fucked-up logic, she postulates that the woman who stole her troll fiancé had huge fake breasts. This means, in order to make sure this debacle doesn’t happen again, SHE must get huge fake breasts. The problem is, huge fake breasts cost $9300, and Elizabeth barely makes enough money to pay the rent (those damn teacher salaries). So, somehow, Elizabeth will have to cheat, lie, steal, scam, and deceive her way into getting that money. And nothing is off limits. Not school funds. Not other teachers. If there is money that can be gotten, she will find a way to get it.

Of course, you need to throw your protagonists some curveballs, and a big one arrives in the form of new teacher: Scott. Scott is as honest as Elizabeth is deceitful, and when she finds out that his father owns one of the biggest watch companies in the world…well, it’s game on. Unfortunately, Elizabeth’s rival, the sweet-as-caramel Amy Squirrel, is also vying for Scott’s attention. And since the two were practically chiseled out of the same loving stone, Elizabeth’s chances aren’t good. To make matters worse, Amy has huge natural breasts. The only way for Elizabeth to have a shot (in, once again, her warped little universe) is to transform into the exact opposite of who she is around Scott, and keep him interested just long enough to get those damn D-Cups!

Let’s not beat around the bush here. Bad Teacher is Bad Santa. I mean, it’s the exact same movie, but with a female lead and set in a middle school. I’m not saying that accusingly. I think it’s brilliant. It’s a perfect twist on a movie that worked. And if you thought Billy Bob’s character was funny, there’s something even more hilarious about a woman who will stoop lower than hell itself, who will take out the very kids she’s supposed to be protecting and nurturing, to get what she wants. I mean, the way she despises these children…you feel bad that you’re laughing and yet you can’t help yourself. Elizabeth doesn’t even know any of the kids names. NONE. And while this may seem like an obvious joke, Elizabeth is so authentic and believable that when she says “Hey you,” to a kid she’s known for 3 months, you laugh every time.

The cool thing about “Bad Teacher” is that there’s nothing spectacular about the way it’s constructed. It’s simply about a woman trying to save up enough money to get breast implants. But I realized there was a little more thought that went into this than it first seems. Here you have this appallingly selfish protagonist leaving a path of destruction in pursuit of her goal, and yet you’re still engaged. Conventional wisdom says we shouldn’t be rooting for Elizabeth because she’s “unlikable.” But what I realized was this: Because this character wanted something so badly – and I mean really really wanted it– it didn’t matter that we didn’t like her. What we’re drawn to is whether she’ll achieve this goal. So we’re not necessarily rooting for Elizabeth here, but we do want to find out if she gets what she wants because she cares so much. I know I’ve come across this before, but for whatever reason, it really stuck out in this instance. It was a good lesson to learn. But it’s important to note that it wasn’t the only reason we tolerated this character. This device is aided by Elizabeth being so funny. Had she not been funny, I don’t know if this approach, all by itself, would’ve worked. So I think that’s important to remember. If you are going to use an unlikable protagonist, try adding a couple of devices/traits to soften the blow. Because if someone is so repulsive that you can’t even stand them, I’m not sure there’s anything you can do to make us care about their journey.

So I obviously liked this script a lot. Why did it only get a “worth the read?” Simple. The ending is a complete mess. I don’t know if it’s a holdover from a previous draft or something they put together with the intent of expanding on later on. But it’s like they tried this big climactic ending, and in the process went away from everything they’d been doing up to that point. I’m sure they’ve fixed it by now, cause it’s really glaring, but since I’m critiquing this draft and not the future one, I can’t give this that “impressive” label.

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

What I learned: If you’re writing your first or second screenplay, I’m going to give you the best chance at success. Use Bad Teacher as a template for simple dramatic structure. Here’s how you do it: Give your main character a big goal, then give them a bunch of smaller goals they have to achieve in order to reach that big goal. So here the big goal is to get fake breasts. The smaller goals are all the little things Elizabeth has to do to get the money to buy those breasts. This may seem obvious to some of you, but I read so many scripts where the protagonists don’t want anything. They’re just hanging around and talking to different people in different locations with no pursuits or desires whatsoever. If you’re just starting out as a writer, and especially if you write comedies, this simple goal-oriented approach is going to give you the best chance at writing a screenplay that’s good.

One thing I never forget is that this site is for you guys. I created it to help you and I will continue to use it to help you whenever you can. That’s why I held the free logline contest. And that’s why I’m doing what I’m doing today. May is going to be Amateur Month. And the idea is to give a few of you a chance to get your scripts reviewed on the site. Now I know that this is going to suck for those who visit the site more as spectators than screenwriters, but I don’t care. I’ve wanted to do this for awhile.

The month will be divided into three sections. The first week is going to be Amateur Week. Anybody can send me a script to be reviewed. Anyone. The week will start off with Roger and I reviewing two completely random scripts from the sampling. We’re going to close our eyes, reach in, and review whatever we pluck out. These will definitely be the most interesting days of the month, as I’m expecting to review scripts in major need of realignment. I don’t want to jinx anybody, but a double “What the Hell did I just read” is not out of the question.

The rest of the week, I’ll pick three scripts based on loglines. So, at the very least, the concepts should be good.

Now let me warn you here. Neither Roger or I will be cruel in our reviews, but we will be HONEST. This goes for all of the reviews throughout the month. If you’ve only written a couple of screenplays, I’m warning you right now, there’s a very good chance your script will receive a low rating. If you’re not prepared for that criticism, don’t send your script in. So why am I doing this? Why subject someone to such a harsh critique? A couple of reasons. We’re doing this to learn. We feature PROFESSIONAL scripts on the site all the time, and a lot of times those scripts get bashed to pieces and called “amateur.” Which makes me laugh. Because if you think those scripts are amateur, you haven’t read any amateur scripts. We are going to review and post REAL amateur scripts, and you’re going see just how difficult crafting a story really is. But more importantly, it will give you the writer of these scripts, a chance to see where your screenplay is, where it needs to be improved, and how.

Now does that mean I’m not hoping to be proven wrong? Of course not. I am praying that somehow you, the guy or girl sitting on your couch right now reading these words, the one who has more talent in your middle toe than Aaron Sorkin has in his whole body, gets your script to me, I give it a genius rating, it sells for a million bucks, and it’s the happiest day in Scriptshadow history. So if you’re out there, please send your script in and make sure I pick it somehow. :)

WEEK 2 is going to be the return of Repped Week. If you remember, last year, I featured a week of writers who had representation from agencies and/or managers, but who hadn’t yet made the big spec sale. The idea was for you to see what it took to get an agent, which is obviously not as difficult as getting your script sold. So Repped Week is back baby. Send your scripts in (details below), and just like Amateur Week, only send your scripts in if it’s okay for me to post them.

But the big reason I’m doing this is for WEEK 3 and some of WEEK 4. Over the past couple of years, I’ve read a lot of amateur scripts, some through my notes service, some through contests, and some through referrals, and I’ve found a handful of unpurchased scripts that are really good. None of the scripts are perfect, but all of them are “worth the reads” or higher, and there are a couple I just know will be made into movies. If you’re a producer, a director, a financier, an agent, or a manager, you will want to be paying attention on that 3rd week of May. Because these scripts are going to be up for grabs.

Interested? Okay, here are the instructions. Follow them EXACTLY!

IMPORTANT: CHECK THE E-MAIL ADDRESSES BELOW – do not submit to Carsonreeves1@gmail.com

WEEK ONE – AMATEUR WEEK – ANYONE CAN SUBMIT
e-mail address: Carsonreeves3@gmail.com
Instructions: First off, write your logline INTO THE SUBJECT LINE. If it doesn’t fit, write as much as you can. The full logline will also be posted in the body of the message. Attach a PDF of your script with the e-mail. Here is a sample of how the body of the e-mail should look:

Name: Joe Screenwriter
Title: Blanket Man
Genre: Horror
Logline: When the people of Sleepville begin losing their blankets one by one, they realize that a horrifying entity known as “Blanket Man” has been stealing them, in hopes of making everyone really chilly at night.

WEEK TWO – REPPED WEEK – ONLY SUBMIT IF YOU’RE REPPED BY AN AGENT OR MANAGER
e-mail address: Carsonreeves2@gmail.com
Instructions: In order to qualify for Repped week, you must have an agent or a manager, and not yet have sold a screenplay. In regards to your e-mail, please write your logline INTO THE SUBJECT LINE. If it doesn’t fit, write as much as you can. The full logline will also be posted in the body of the message. Attach a PDF of your script with the e-mail. This is exactly how the body of the e-mail should look:

Name: Jane Screenwriter
Agency/Management: IDK
Agent/Manager: Temper Sent
Title: Tickle Dome
Genre: Drama/Sci-Fi
Logline: 700 years in the future, man has only one weakness: tickling. In a remote town off the Atlanta Wastelands, the best ticklers in the world battle each other til they’re really tired and can’t laugh anymore. It is known…as The Tickle Dome.

You can start submitting right now! GOOD LUCK EVERYONE!

LAST YEAR’S REPPED WEEK REVIEWS
http://scriptshadow.blogspot.com/2009/08/void-repped-week-5-of-5.html
http://scriptshadow.blogspot.com/2009/08/emergency-contact-repped-week-4-of-5.html
http://scriptshadow.blogspot.com/2009/08/fixer.html
http://scriptshadow.blogspot.com/2009/08/malcom-mccree-and-money-tree.html
http://scriptshadow.blogspot.com/2009/08/conquered-repped-week-1-of-5.html

Genre: Romantic Dramedy
Premise: A successful Olympic female softball player who may not make this year’s team, finds solace in her relationship with a pretty boy athlete before meeting and befriending a down-on-his luck businessman.
About: James Brooks had a successful career in television (The Mary Tyler Moore Show) before segueing into film with 1979’s “Starting Over.” His next project was “Terms Of Endearment,” which won him Oscars for writer, director, and producer. Brooks didn’t stop there, writing and directing Broadcast News, based on his experiences starting out at CBS news. That film got him another two Academy Award nominations. Brooks ran into trouble though, with his 1994 film “I’ll Do Anything.” The movie was originally supposed to be a musical, but during post-production, they decided to cut out all the musical numbers! Ouch. If anyone has seen the film, it doesn’t take long to realize that something’s…off. After that debacle, Brooks returned with the awesome “As Good As It Gets.” And in 2004, he directed Adam Sandler in “Spanglish.” Brooks is also known for co-developing The Simpsons, mentoring Wes Anderson on “Bottle Rocket” (great movie!) as well as Cameron Crowe on “Say Anything” (also a great movie!). This project is now titled, “How Do You Know.” It stars Jack Nicholson, Reese Witherspoon, Paul Rudd, and Owen Wilson. It is currently in post-production.
Writer: James Brooks
Details: 140 pages – Early draft – undated (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).

James Brooks. James Brooks James Brooks James Brooks. The man is a legend. “Starting Over,” “Broadcast News,” “Terms Of Endearment.” And let’s not forget “The Simpsons.” But for me, the film that really made me a fan was “As Good As It Gets.” There were so many reasons for me not to like that movie. I don’t think there’s a single aspect in it that I relate to. And yet it somehow grabbed hold of me and never let go. For writers who roll their eyes whenever a studio exec tells them their main character has to be more “likable,” Jack Nicholson’s Melvin Udall is the go-to example for you to tell them to fuck off. I’m still not sure how he made that character work.

If I’m being honest, I don’t really feel comfortable passing judgment on James Brooks. He’s won three Oscars. Me? I once had a friend named Oscar. And he stole my girlfriend in 6th grade. So I went into this experience more as a student than a critic. I wanted to see how Brooks approached the craft, particularly with an early draft.

“How Do You Know” introduces us to Lisa Jorgenson, a 27 year-old Olympic softball player who, for the first time in her life, isn’t sure if she’ll make the squad. It’s clear she’s the best shortstop in the country, but she has that gnawing pit in her stomach that says, “Something’s off.” And indeed it is. In a shock to everyone on the team, Lisa is passed over in favor of a younger prettier player, and all indications point to her inclusion as a marketing tactic, using the inferior player’s looks to bring more attention to the team. Lisa, of course, is devastated. All she’s ever been is a softball player. And now she must decide what the next step in her life is, a decision she is frighteningly ill-prepared to make.

So Lisa does what most people do when they don’t want to make a choice. She finds a distraction. That distraction is the gorgeous but dumb-as-rocks Manny, a professional baseball player with more money and women than a T.I. video. Manny’s world is pretty simple. Play ball every five days (he’s a pitcher) and do a lot of fucking around (or just fucking) in between. Somehow this ill-conceived duo begins the most awkward romance ever, and unfortunately for Lisa, no one tries to stop her.

At the same time, we meet George, a rich corporate executive who thinks he’s found his soul mate in the Stephen Hawking smart/Jessica Alba sexy, Terri. But when a huge scandal breaks at the company, it’s George who’s forced to take the fall, which is made all the more awkward by the fact that his father, the loving but morally questionable Charles, owns the company. The second George falls from grace, Terri decides it’s time for them to “take a break.” But she assures him that as soon as he gets back on his feet, she’ll be there for him. Aww, isn’t that sweet?

With the rest of the world pulling away from George, he finds himself calling Lisa, who he doesn’t know, but whose number he has because he was supposed to go out on a date with her forever ago (he broke it off at the last second). Much like Manny is a way to avoid choice for Lisa, Lisa is a way to avoid choice for George. He too, wants to bury himself in a distraction. But what starts as an awkward collision of two different people, escalates into a full blown friendship. This friendship begins to interfere with Lisa and Manny’s ongoing situation, and Lisa finds herself, ironically, having to make a choice. Does she go with the ridiculously-handsome but embarrassingly moronic athlete? Or the highly intelligent but going-nowhere-soon businessman?

The first thing I noticed about Brooks was how he’s clearly from a different screenwriting era. There is no attempt to grab the reader here. There is no flash. No urgency at all. This is a man who knows he’s making this movie himself, only has to impress the actors he sends his script to, and therefore has no problem taking his merry time. If you don’t like it, tough cookies. I don’t know if I’d say I didn’t like it, but I sure wouldn’t have minded if we’d gone a *little* faster. It seems like we get five or six scenes in a row telling us the exact same thing, that Lisa is terrified of being left off the Olympic team. Once she *is* left off the Olympic team, we get five or six *more* scenes with her lamenting about it. I noticed my internal reading voice saying “Speed it up here. Keep it going.” Trust the audience. They know what’s going on.

But what I began to realize was that this wasn’t your typical romantic comedy. And that was refreshing. Brooks chooses to underplay any ticking clocks, such as George’s impending court date for his company mishap, and focuses more on the uncertainty of the lead character, Lisa. Lisa sort of jumps back and forth from relationship to relationship, trying to balance the goofy charm of Manny with the embattled but earnest efforts of George. Whereas in most romantic comedies, you feel like you’re on a track, being pushed towards the inevitable finish line, here there’s more of a drifting quality, as if the entire story is on a sled, and any second we could go flying off the road and into a tiny town out in the middle of nowhere. That’s both its biggest strength and its biggest weakness, as sometimes it drifts too much, and when that happens, we’re not entirely sure what the movie is about.

Surprisingly, the movie grounds itself whenever it gets back to Lisa and Manny. The overgrown child who’s never had any responsibility in his life is a walking scene stealer. And when he falls in love with Lisa, he’s completely unprepared to handle it. Manny is a guy who keeps a drawer full of unopened toothbrushes for any woman staying over, absentmindedly mistaking this trait as “thoughtful,” without a second thought as to how it might make the girl feel. There’s no doubt that Brooks was inspired by Tim Robbins’ character “Nuke” from “Bull Durham,” and he updates that character nicely into the modern age. Manny was, without question, my favorite part of the script.

Ultimately though, as most of you know, I’m a structure guy, and Brooks plays a little too fast and loose for me. Yes there was something refreshing about not knowing where it was all going, but at a certain point, I wanted to know. A lot of screenwriting teachers will tell you not to make the relationship the ONLY thing in your movie. Yes, When Harry Met Sally did it, but it’s usually better to build some sort of plot around the relationship so the characters have an outlet other than the people they’re involved with. There’s a bit of an attempt to do that here with George and his company’s downfall, specifically in his relationship with his father, who owns the company he’s been banished from, but there’s something very isolated about the storyline, as if it doesn’t want to commit to the script. And I felt like we needed that structure to center the story. Who knows though, maybe this plot was better integrated into subsequent drafts.

When all is said and done, this draft is a mixed bag, but I do like its theme: transition. Brooks explores that moment in your life where the things you’ve done so well for so long…are no longer available to you. And the way that that changes you, the way it makes you reevaluate who you are as a person. Who is Michael Jordan without basketball? Who is Oprah Winfrey without her talk show? I liked that we got to see that transition from three different perspectives (Lisa, George, and Charles). And it’s all contrasted nicely against the character of Manny, who lives in a state of bliss, unaware that one day that moment will come for him too. If only the story would have had as much pop as that theme, I would’ve dug it. But it didn’t, so it wasn’t for me.

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

What I learned: I’m a big believer that when you write a love triangle, you have to make sure that each of the competing parties has a legitimate shot at the protagonist. If we know from the get-go that Guy B has no shot at our heroine, then where’s the tension? Where’s the suspense? Even though I loved Manny and couldn’t stop laughing whenever he was on screen, I never once believed he had a shot at Lisa. He was too goofy, too immature and too stupid. Is there anyone who believes, from the very first frame, that he has a shot? (Then again, this worked, to an extent, in Bull Durham, so I realize it’s not a hard and fast rule)

Welcome to Wednesday at Scriptshadow. A little busy here in the darkness, so thank God for Michael Stark, who’s come to rescue me with another review. Today he’s taking on a biopic about Margaret Keane. As for me, I’m readying tomorrow’s review, along with my promised mystery post which will give you, dear readers, an opportunity to get your script reviewed on the site. So stay tuned for that. Also, you guys have been writing in about the special $80 April Script Notes deal. Unfortunately all the slots have been filled. But if you’re still interested in getting notes, e-mail me about May. Here’s Michael…

Genre: Biopic
Premise: A drama centered on the awakening of the painter Margaret Keane, her phenomenal success, and the subsequent legal difficulties she had with her husband, who claimed credit for her works. (Logline graciously provided to us by IMDB.)
About: Larry Karaszewski and Scott Alexander (Ed Wood and Man on The Moon scribes) set to direct their own screenplay with Kate Hudson as Margaret and Thomas Hayden Church (who will totally rock) as her hack husband.
Writers: The conjoined twins from a different mother, Larry and Scott.
Details: 125 pages. Undated or specified 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).

”I think what Keane has done is just terrific. It has to be good. If it were bad, so many people wouldn’t like it.” — Andy Warhol on Keane in 1965

“It’s Keane! It’s Pure Keane. No, no! It’s greater than Keane. It’s Cugat!” — Diane Keaton in Sleeper

Put on your berets and take out your sketchpads, Kiddies, cause Professor Stark is gonna take our class out on a little art history field trip. Carson, please stop doodling on Roger’s back. I don’t care if you’re making chalk outlines of all his dead lice. Must, I turn this bus around, Children?!! You’re the future screenwriters of America, for goodness sake; not friggin artists!
Class. Class? Class!!!

Today, we’re gonna study a script about one of America’s most popular painters, Walter Keane. Yup, the man behind those sad, doe-eyed waifs that infested every freaking, suburban living room in the early sixties. Just take out those old Kodachromes of your parent’s house back then. They had a few kitschy Keanes hanging, didn’t they? Right next to the tiki sculptures, the poker playing dogs and the bullfighter posters. Or, if you were Jewish from up north, next to the obligatory Ben Shahan lithos.

Oy. Stop complaining. Why couldn’t it about some sexy garret-dwelling, turbuculer, alcoholic like Modigliani? Or a volatile, Hamptons-dwelling, womazing. alcoholic like Pollock? Why aren’t we reading a script about some tortured Abstract Expressionism alcoholic who’d rather slice and dice his wrists then sell out like Rothko?

Why? Well, 1. Those have all been done and 2. Cause the auteurs behind this biopic are none other than Larry Karaszewski and Scott Alexander, who would never ever write about the usual Biography Channel suspects.

In fact, they avoid them completely. You’re not going to see them tackling the likes of Amelia Earhart, Nelson Mandela, Charles Darwin or Queen Victoria (four flops that had Newsweek’s Ramin Setoodeh asking last month, “Are Biopics History?”) anytime too soon. They’re more the go-to guys for the wacky, the odball and the offbeat life stories.

They relish in the underbelly of the underdog – The prolifically bad, got-it-in-one-shot filmmaker (Ed Wood), the Pornographer who went to the Supreme Court to battle for our First Amendment rights (The People vs. Larry Flynt), and the baby-faced prankster extraordinaire , Andy Kaufman (Man in the Moon). They even produced (but didn’t write) Autofocus, the flick about the obsessively horn-dogged Hogan’s Heroes, Bob Crane.

The dynamic duo had been attached to other quirky bios including: Liberace, The Village People, Billy Carter and Roland “rainbow man” Stewart, the flamboyantly afroed, super sports fan who was arrested after a shootout with police.

So, what’s the story behind those big, sad, hyperthyroid-meets-them-melting-Dali-watch-sized blue eyes?

Although still immensely popular and influential today, Walter Keane perpetrated perhaps the greatest crime ever known to the art world.

No, he wasn’t a dashing art thief. He wasn’t a master forger. And, it doesn’t have anything about his work being a punchline for critics and the good taste police.

It’s the fact that Walter Keane couldn’t paint. Not a lick. And, the charming huckster for years took credit for his wife, Margaret’s work, banishing her to a sweat shop studio to churn out more and more waif paintings as demand and his fraudulent fame kept growing.

Even the Art History minoring, Professor Stark didn’t know this. And, I though I was a real pop culture vulture when it came to these kind of fun facts.

So under the layers of this kitschy canvas, Larry and Scott have uncovered a gem of a story — The egotistical, huckster Keane and the liberation of his wife, culminating in a classic courtroom drama.

There’s a good reason why those huge eyed tots are always teary!

“Everytime I look into your big brown eyes, I get paralyzed, paralyzed.” – The DBS.

“Movies are life with the boring stuff cut out” – Alfred Hithcock

Seemingly, Dear Readers, you’re gonna accuse me of brown nosing Karaszeski and Alexander (well, I am hiding behind my real name here) or being a very over-generous grader. Cause, you’ll dare say that Big Eye’s first fifteen minutes reads like a flippin’ Lifetime drama.

Well, I agree. But, I believe they did it on purpose. Of course, I’m possibly reading too far into the subtext that might not even be there. But, I think they’re opening in a cliché way to establish how this very passive female got taken in by a smooth talking criminal and why it’s took so many years till she grew a pair and stood up for herself. They’re boldly recreating the whole Feminist Movement of the time. You’ve come a long way, baby!

The script starts off with Margaret leaving her first husband with her eight-year old daughter in tow. It’s 1955 and they land in San Francisco, the Beatnik Epicenter of the cool and the crazy. It’s all Calder mobiles, espresso bars, bongo jazz and reefer — and all totally foreign to Margaret. But, it seems a damn good place to become an artist.

She gets her start sketching cheapskate tourists at Fisherman’s Wharf when she runs into Walter, who very much looks a true artiste in his black beret and turtleneck. He sells his pedestrian Parisian street scenes with flirtations and outrageous carnival barker banter. He takes great interest in shy Margaret’s work and her figure, chiding her for selling herself way too short and much too cheaply. Something, he’ll be a maestro at doing a little later on.

Learning that her ex is out of the picture, they quickly court and set up easels together in the park. It’s a nice scene when the hipster Walter is outed in front of her as having the ultimate squaresville day job — he’s really a commercial realtor. It’s Margaret’s daughter, Jane, that’s the first to notice that Keane’s canvas has been blank the whole time.

When a letter from her ex arrives, calling her an unfit mother, Walter quickly proposes and they’re off to Hawaii for a whirlwind honeymoon. Now, I understand why they chose not to draw out a long custody battle on screen (they’ll have that courtroom scene for the custody of the waif dynasty later), but this news via letter was a big misstep for me. I understand you don’t have to cover the subject’s entire life and that one must frame the story economically and give a reason for their very quick nuptials, but a letter? That just seems so something starring Dame Valerie Bertinelli. Okay, class, what would you have done???

When Walter’s work is snubbed by a snooty gallery owner, his realtor’s training of “Location, Location, Location” finally works for him. He gets the big idea of renting the walls at a hip jazz club, The Hungry I, to exhibit his and his wife’s art.

As both artists in the family now signed their work “Keane”, Margaret’s sad-eyed-ladies-of-the-lowlands are mistakenly attributed to Walter. And, as not to jeopardize a sale, he plays along.

When the dueling egos of Walter and the club owner explode into fisticuffs, a photographer captures it and it’s suddenly front-page news. Suddenly, the club is hot and people are lining up to see the sappy paintings that two grown men were actually fighting over.

As the waif painting start selling like latkes and lava lamps, Walter, trapped in his lie, can’t stop taking credit for their creations. And, then, like any good liar, he starts totally believing it himself, boasting to journalists that “Nobody could paint eyes like El Greco and nobody can paint eyes like Walter Keane.”

Although panned by the critics, the masses fell in love with the waif paintings. The I-don’t-know-a-lot-about-art-but-I-know-what-I-like set had to be suddenly accommodated to. People were stealing posters of their exhibits off the walls. So, Keane, started selling posters and post cards and mass producing cheapo framed posters to keep up with the demand. He brought art ownership to the common man – and made a mint doing it!

Suddenly, everyone wanted a piece of Keane. He opened his own gallery across the street from the very snob who shunned him. He dutifully and brilliantly worked the press and gave portraits freely to luminaries like Kim Novak and Natalie Wood to drum up more and more photo ops. He even sent one of John Jr. and Caroline Kennedy to the White House.

Years before Warhol and Mark Kostabi had their “art helpers”, Keane turned art into commerce. Hell, he had a factory before Warhol even had a soup can. Only his sweat shop consisted of the poor, exhausted, friendless Margaret, locked in a room, painting all day, dazed off turpentine, mass producing as quickly as humanly possible. Slaving like a Cambodian Nike worker while Walter basked in the ill-gotten fruits of his self promotion.

No one was allowed to know their secret. Not even her own daughter!

The passive and voiceless Margaret meanwhile spirals deeper and deeper into depression; her waifs becoming much older and sadder. They’ve all become self-portraits. And, somehow, Walter has to explain to the world what has inspired him to paint all those cute kitten and crying, huge-eyed women. Jeepers creepers, everyone wanted to know how he got those peepers.

Usually Scriptshadow’s secret bylaws strictly forbid us from spoiling the third act, but this is a bio pic. The story has already played out. Let’s just say that like in Larry Flynt, Margaret does get her day in court, finally proving to the world who the real artist in the family was.

As life seems to provide more suspending of disbelief moments than movie usually do, Margaret’s sudden transformation from exploited door mat to hear-me-roar truth seeker all came about after a pair of Jehovah’s Witnesses knocked on her door. Guess they were pretty damn good witnesses. It’s a little unbelievable and pat, but, hey, that’s exactly what happened in real life.

Vindicated, justified and finally happy, Margaret Keane’s saucer-eyed paintings still shed a tear or two. But, now, they’re tears of joy! As this film has already been cast, do keep Thomas Haden Church in mind while reading Walter. Watching him squirm at the end as his empire implodes is just gonna be a pure delight.

Now, for the grading. I wanna give these guys an A + for effort. Their ability to find truly unique source material is incredible. I give them an impressive for the research alone.

But, I have to dock a few points on the execution. Now, as I always preface every script review, I have no idea what draft I’ve just read. Could have been the first, could have been the shooting script. Who the hell knows. I’m hopeful that some of the kinks have already been worked out. But, these guys are directing Big Eyes themselves and I’ve seen their directorial debut, Screwed. Funny flick but not quite up to par with Tim Burton or Milos Forman, who I’m certain were quite real hands on during the rewrites.

Certainly, the ultra passive Margaret will get some life breathed into her by Kate Hudson’s people. I would like to see her transformation and realization of what a twat her husband is a little bit sooner. Also, the court case — The Mister-Smith-Goes-To-Washington-Mailbag moment — just flies by too quickly. This is the weighty scene we’ve been waiting for. We would like to see her really speak up for herself here.

Although Walter has some comic foils like the snooty gallery owner to parry with, the boys missed a wonderful opportunity with John Canaday, the snarky art critic of the New York Times. It was one of his scathing reviews that stopped the World’s Fair from displaying Walter’s masterpiece (well, uh, her masterpiece that he appropriated). The Critic’s mission to wipe the kitschy Keanes from the face of the serious art world comes way too late. He should have been brought earlier on as a common enemy that would bond the couple. By the time he comes on the scene, they’re already divorced. He also could have also been the one to suspect that Walter was really zooming the scene, a hack whose only talent was self-promotion.

Thus, I give Big Eyes a double worth the read. I wanted to be impressed, but… Oh, well, maybe next time when they tackle the Family Circus’s John Hughes lookalike, Bill Keane.

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

What I learned: I had helped a writer buddy once adapt his published bio into screenplay form. The guy’s frantic life made for some wonderful scenes but it took a lot of tinkering to get his narrative to drive straight. You have less than two hours to tell someone’s life story. What exactly do you focus on? What are the defining moments? What are his or her character arcs? How do you keep your story from sprawling out of control like an Atlanta suburb? Big Eyes focuses on the ten year span after Margaret married Keane and became a virtual prisoner to his ego, culminating in their divorce and court case. We didn’t need to see too much of her life pre San Francisco nor did we need to see her in a flash forward today, remarried and still painting. What you leave out for the story is almost as important as the scenes you keep in. It also helps. in the cases of the Blind Side and the Pursuit of Happiness, when your main characters aren’t famous people whose every movement have been recorded in the history books. Excepting of course, if your history books have been published in Texas.

So, Kids keep reading. You just might find the next great Biopic in the Parade section of your local paper!

Genre: Indie Drama
Premise: An illegal immigrant in Los Angeles tries to start his own gardening business, only to see it ripped away from him, threatening he and his son’s future.
About: So you just directed one of the Top 20 franchise pictures of all time. You’re offered the opportunity to direct the next two movies in the franchise and probably double your already large salary in the process. Do you do it? Not if you’re Chris Weitz, who many of you know as the director of Twilight: New Moon, About A Boy, or, if you go back a ways, American Pie. No, Weitz said, I would rather direct a tiny independent film about an illegal immigrant living in LA who speaks in subtitles and that, in all likelihood, will be seen by 1/1000 the amount of people who saw Twilight. Had you heard that story, you’d probably call the guy nuts, right? I mean who walks away from all that money and power? Except it makes a little more sense when you consider Weitz’s path. The producers of the Golden Compass didn’t consult their moral compass when they dumped all over Weitz’s vision and basically pried the movie from his furious hands. And while his experience on Twilight was supposedly better, indications from an under-enthused press tour imply that he didn’t exactly have a blast on that film either. So there’s something very comforting about going back to a world where nobody looks over your shoulder (particularly in this case, where even if they did, they wouldn’t understand what the hell the actors were saying). And I, for one, admire Weitz for turning down the dough. The question is, did he turn it down for the right project? And that’s where we segue to Eric Eason, the writer of “The Gardener.” Eric is a writer-director himself, and this is the first script he’s written that someone else will direct (his most well known work is 2006’s “Journey To The End Of The Night,” starring Brendan Fraser and Mos Def. The plotline sounds surprisingly similar: “The tale of a son and his father separately plotting to escape the desolation of their lives in the lurid underworld of Brazil’s sex industry.” – I, like you, am hoping Brendan Fraser does not play Mos Def’s father) Anyway, it’s always exciting to see a passion project come to the big screen. So let’s see what it’s about.
Writer: Eric Eason
Details: 121 pages – Sep 20, 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).

Those who have read this script have described it as “heartbreaking,” “honest,” and “beautiful.” Sounds like an Oscar advertising campaign to me. But it’s rare I hear those kinds of adjectives thrown around with scripts these days. So I wanted to be prepared. Now I don’t personally own any Kleenex because, you know, I’m a man and I don’t cry. But let’s just say if I did – and I don’t – but if I did, I would’ve placed them directly to the right of me just in case, all things considered, anything happened. Of course nothing would and I don’t own any Kleenex so this is all hypothetical but I’m just saying.

“The Gardener” is about a 40 year old immigrant worker from Mexico named Carlos Riquelme, who illegally lives in Los Angeles, California. Carlos used to dream of a bigger life. But after having a child and watching his wife leave him for another man, Carlos’s grand plans descended, like so many do, into just trying to make it through the day. The problem is, Carlos is at a crossroads. The man he works for, another immigrant, is retiring, and when that happens, Carlos won’t have an employer anymore. This means he’ll have to go all the way back to the bottom, working the corners of the lumber yards and the Home Depots, hoping to get picked for work every day. Not exactly stable income.

Carlos has an option though. His boss is offering to sell him his pick-up truck along with all his gardening tools for 14 thousand dollars. With it, Carlos can start his own business, and maybe, just maybe, finally get a shot at those dreams he had when he was younger. The problem is, Carlos isn’t legal. He can’t officially own the truck. He can’t officially get a license. So if he were to get pulled over for any reason, it’d be a trip on the Tijuana Express. Now even if Carlos *were* to explore that option, he doesn’t have the money. He can’t afford the truck. And, in all honesty, he can’t afford to risk getting deported and leaving his son here in America by himself. But his boss brings up a good point. On his current path, in his current East L.A. neighborhood, it’s only a matter of time before his 14 year old son starts gangbanging. They both see it. They both know it. So if Carlos doesn’t find a way to pull himself out of this poverty, out of this neighborhood, and into a new life, his son is fucked anyway. As far as he’s concerned, his boss says, Carlos can’t afford *not* to buy the truck.

So with the help of his sister, Carlos scrapes together the money and buys the truck. And in that moment, Carlos has never felt more hope. He’s actually doing it. He’s actually living the American dream. He immediately heads down to “Workers’ Corner” and grabs an honest-looking Salvadorian man, heading off for his first job in Beverly Hills as his own boss. And as he climbs up that first tree, preparing to clip it, he can only watch in horror as the Salvadorian man snatches his keys and phone, runs off, and STEALS HIS TRUCK. Carlos slides down the tree and barrels after him, but it doesn’t matter. He’s long gone. Carlos has just lost everything. Faced with this terror, Carlos grabs his son and the two go on a hunt through Los Angeles to find the Salvadorian and get the truck back.

Now I’m no expert, cause the only gardening I do is in Farmville. But from what I read, The Gardener plants a lot of the right seeds. Where this script truly shines though is in the way it raises the stakes. As I’ve mentioned before, amateur writers tend not to care about the stakes of their story. As a result, there are no real consequences to their characters’ actions. But if you know how to build stakes, you can make a tiny indie story just as riveting as the latest Steven Spielberg blockbuster. And that’s what we have here. First we find out Carlos is about to lose his job. Then we find out his kid will join a gang if he doesn’t get him out of the neighborhood. Then we find out he has to borrow the money to buy the truck, money he’ll then owe. Then we find out that even if he gets the truck, one traffic stop could send him back to Mexico. And on top of all of that, Eason stresses just how important it is for Carlos to provide for his son. For all these reasons, when that truck is stolen, you physically lift your hand to your mouth and say, “No.” It’s that powerful. It’s that horrifying.

In addition, Eason knows what to do once the truck *does* get stolen. That may seem obvious (FIND THE TRUCK!), but if all you show us is a bunch of attempts at getting the truck back, your story is going to get old fast. Eason has gently hinted at a rift between father and son in the earlier parts of the screenplay, so that when they’re finally forced together on this journey, the focus slyly shifts over to their broken relationship. And what I loved was how Eason approached that dynamic. It is so easy to turn a father/son relationship into a melodramatic mess of cornmeal mush. What Eason does to prevent this is he flips the old “son trying to earn his father’s respect” angle around to a father trying to earn his son’s respect. There’s something very, yes, heartbreaking about this approach. Carlos knows that his son sees him as some faceless illegal immigrant who whores himself out on a corner for work. That he is incapable of providing a real life for them. That he’s, for all intents and purposes, a screw-up. Watching Carlos try and reverse this perception is both sad and endearing. It really works well.

My only reservation about the script is ironically the thing I gave it the most credit for. Whereas the stakes were high in almost every respect, they weren’t high in the most important respect of all. The overarching threat throughout the story – if Carlos is caught by the police, he’ll be sent back to Mexico – isn’t really a threat at all. Several times throughout the script we’re reminded that if Carlos were to be deported, getting back to the United States would be a piece of cake. That unfortunately undermines every obstacle Carlos tries to overcome. Cause in the back of our minds we’re saying, “So he gets thrown out of the country for a week? Big deal.” This bothered me enough that it’s the key reason I didn’t give the script an impressive rating, which, throughout the first half, I was sure it would get.

However, this is an early draft, and there’s always the chance that this problem was addressed. Either way, this was a really entertaining script and there are enough powerful moments to make it a strong recommendation. If you like Sundance films or movies a little off the beaten path, check this script out for sure.

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

What I learned: This isn’t the prettiest script in the world. It has its share of bumps and bruises and screenwriting class, “You can’t do thats!”. For example, emotions are explained right there in the action lines (i.e., “When he was younger, upon arriving here in this country, he brought with him many dreams…”), paragraphs bloat up to ten lines long, and there are formatting issues scattered throughout. But here’s why I overlooked them: The emotional core of this script is awesome. No matter how clumsy your screenplay is, if you get the emotion down, the reader will forgive you. Focus on your characters. Focus on their journey. Focus on them overcoming their weaknesses and becoming stronger people by the end of the story. If you do that, the reader will forgive a lot.