Here’s the Weekly Rundown, one day late. Don’t kill me! A couple of things. If you haven’t already voted on your Top 10 favorite unproduced screenplays, go check out the original post and do so. I’ll be announcing the results this Wednesday. Also, if you didn’t see Michael Stark’s Top 10 favorite books that should be made into movies, go back and check it out. A week after we ran the article, Warner Brothers optioned one of the books, Carter Beats The Devil. Coincidence? Hmmm. And finally, for those interested in Script Notes on their latest screenplay, I’m having a special from now til the end of April. $80 for 3 pages of great notes. Take advantage and e-mail me (Carsonreeves1@gmail.com) while there are still slots open. Now on to Jessica Hall’s Weekly Rundown!

David S. Ward (THE STING) will adapt Margaret A. Weitekamp’s book “Right Stuff Wrong Sex” for Producer Scott Mednick (300). Story follows the confrontation between two of aviation’s female titans, Jackie Cochran and Jerrie Cobb, in a battle to send the first woman into space. (http://bit.ly/bU3edE)

Keir Pearson (HOTEL RWANDA) and producer Larry Meli have optioned life rights of civil-rights activist and labor organizer Cesar Chavez for Gael Garcia Bernal and Diego Luna’s Mexico-based Canana Films. (http://bit.ly/bDwQl0)

Cook and Weisberg’s (THE ROCK) 2009 spec BLANK SLATE sold to Bold Films. In the female driven action thriller, the CIA investigates the murder of a female agent and implants the agent’s memories into the damaged brain of a female convict. The agent’s lethal abilities also are implanted, and soon the convict goes rogue to discover the truth about the murder. (http://bit.ly/9ccuOw)

2009 Black List writer Chad St. John (THE DAYS BEFORE) will adapt SPY HUNTER for Warner Bros. and Dan Lin. The videogame had recently been in development at Universal, where John Woo and Paul W.S. Anderson were attached to direct at various points and Dwayne Johnson attached to star. Past drafts have been written by Brandt & Haas (WANTED), Zak Penn (X-MEN 3) and Stuart Beattie (3:10 TO YUMA). (http://bit.ly/9v7kAn)

Scribe Mike Jones (MINOTAUR TAKES A CIGARETTE BREAK) is in negotiations to adapt POPEYE for Sony. Logline for the 3-D CGI project is being kept under wraps, but Popeye’s love interest Olive Oyl, nemesis Bluto and adopted child Swee’Pea will be part of the adventure. (http://bit.ly/dtqpU1)

Jennifer Lee will adapt John Steinbeck’s “The Acts of King Arthur and his Noble Knights” for Troika Pictures. Published posthumously, “The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights” is Steinbeck’s retelling of the Arthurian legend, based on the Winchester Manuscript text of Thomas Malory’s “Le Morte d’Arthur,” first published in 1485. (http://bit.ly/a7uIYb)

DreamWorks has picked up an untitled action comedy pitch in a bidding war from director Ruben Fleischer (ZOMBIELAND). Arnold & Poole (BEAUJOLAIS) will write the buddy cop comedy for producers Nick Stoller and Gavin Polone. (http://bit.ly/cqW0ZA)

Paul W.S. Anderson is directing a feature based on classic 1950s hero BUCK RODGERS. Marcum & Holloway (IRON MAN) wrote the script about a fighter pilot who awakens in the 25th century, is credited with helping turn outer space into a setting for exploration and action-adventure stories, and getting the public used to space-age technologies during the Space Race. (http://bit.ly/dsCPs2)

Mandate picked up Diablo Cody’s (JENNIFER’S BODY) spec YOUNG ADULT, about a thirtysomething, divorced, young-adult fiction writer in Minneapolis who returns to her hometown to chase the ex-boyfriend, who’s now married with a kid, that got away. Studio is looking to fast track the project once a director is attached. (http://bit.ly/9Iog76)

Shawn Christensen’s 2010 spec ABDUCTION will be directed by John Singleton (FOUR BROTHERS). The thriller, with Taylor Lautner attached to star, is focused on a young man who discovers his own baby picture on a missing persons website. Shooting is set to begin in July. (http://bit.ly/dwmNe0)

Paramount is looking to option WONDLA, a new children’s book series by Tony DiTerlizzi, author of The Spiderwick Chroncles. Story is about a human orphan girl is raised in a hi-tech subterranean home by a mother who happens to be a robot. (http://bit.ly/bl0wBT)

First time writer Greg Russo’s spec DOWN sold to Relativity. Script is said to be 1408 meets BURIED set in an elevator. (http://bit.ly/dg9gre)

Spec script UNHITCHED by Will McArdle sold to Radar. Comedy is about a wedding planner who is forced into not planning her own wedding. (http://bit.ly/bL3HdY)

It’s the final day of Alternative Draft Week, where we look at alternative drafts from the movies you loved (or hated). In some cases, these drafts are said to be better, in others, worse, or in others still, just plain different. Either way, it’s interesting to see what could’ve been. We started out with Roger’s review of James Cameron’s draft of “First Blood 2“. We followed that with my review of “The Last Action Hero.” Then came Ron Bass’ draft of Entrapment. Thursday was a big one, as I reviewed the original Leigh Brackett draft of “The Empire Strikes Back.” And today we have another big one, the “1967” draft of Back To The Future 2!

Genre: Sci-Fi Comedy
Premise: When Marty McFly realizes that his trip to the future has resulted in 1985 becoming an alternative Biff-dominated universe, he must travel back to 1967, where Old Biff first triggered the time shift, to restore balance and reestablish the space-time continuum.
About: Robert Zemeckis and Bob Gale were originally going to set their Back To The Future sequel in 1967, but later decided to move it to ’55 (again). This is the ’67 version.
Writer: Robert Zemeckis & Bob Gale
Details: 146 pages (first draft)

To me, Back To The Future is the best popcorn movie ever made. It was that rare bird that could hang with all the big summer movies, yet still have you thinking and talking about it after it was over. Zemeckis has gone on record as saying that he’d never worked harder on a screenplay than he did with Bob Gale on Back to The Future. And it shows. That screenplay is airtight, which is hard enough to do under normal circumstances, but nearly impossible to do with a time travel script. It’s the best example of setups and payoffs in the history of movies. It’s the best execution of heavy exposition in a movie I’ve ever seen. It’s three of the best characters ever written. And it’s just one of the most entertaining movies ever.

Back To The Future 2 though……….

Ehhh……..Not so much.

And that’s because there were a lot of things working against it. First of all, Zemeckis and Gale didn’t even want to write a sequel to the film. The whole “Continued” thing at the end of the first was a joke, and forced them into a beginning they didn’t necessarily want (what do you do with Jennifer, the girlfriend, when you don’t even want her in the movie?). On top of that, Crispin Glover was becoming public lunatic number 1, making all these bizarre demands and wanting to be paid as much as Michael J. Fox.

This made writing the script extremely tricky. How do you write a script if you don’t even know if one of the main characters is going to be in it??? In retrospect I’d actually argue that they should’ve paid him. I mean, he’s one of the most unique and memorable characters in history. How do you replace that? Add on to that that the team clearly didn’t have as much time to figure out the story and clean up all the time travel holes as they did with the original, and you realize why the movie feels half-baked.

I know that some of you are hoping this “1967” draft contains the magic pill that would’ve made the perfect Back To The Future 2. But that’s simply not the case. It’s clear that the two Bobs are still trying to find their way here, and hadn’t yet zoned in on the sweet spot of having to go back to the original Back To The Future. Had they figured that out earlier, and had time to really hone in on it, we may have gotten a better protagonist flaw than Marty getting upset when people called him “Chicken.”

Suffice it to say I would LOVE to know the exact timeline of all this (when they started this draft, when Glover dropped out, when they decided to turn it into two movies, when production officially began) because it would allow me to know just how much time they had to write Back To The Future 2. If anyone has that info, please leave it in the comments section, because I thought the Crispin Glover debacle went right up to the start of filming. But Geoge McFly is not in this draft, so they obviously knew it already. And since the decision hadn’t even been made to turn part 2 into two movies yet, I’m assuming this was relatively early on. It would just be nice to know the details.

But let’s get to the script, shall we?

Back To The Future 2, the ’67 draft, starts off exactly like the film. Marty, Doc, and Jennifer fly into the future, where Doc alludes to the fact that something’s happened to their children. After they land, instead of Jennifer being put to sleep, the three get split up, and both Marty and Jennifer start looking around the Courthouse Square. This is where Marty first spots the sports almanac, and decides to take it back to the past. In this version, Marty’s obsession with money becomes a much stronger driving force behind his character. Both his future and present self are looking for any way to make a quick buck, and that central flaw informs his choices in a way the final film only touched on. While this unifies the future and present storylines better than the film does, it feels forced, which is probably why the Bob’s ended up downplaying it.

Just like in the film, Old Biff spots the time-traveling Delorean and steals Marty’s sports Almanac to travel back to the past. However this time, he travels back to 1967, the year a 30 year old Biff inherits 20,000 dollars. The idea is that *that* would be the year he could start betting a lot of money. Then, exactly like in the finished film, Doc, Marty and Jennifer go back to 1985, only to find out it’s an alternate universe 1985, where Biff rules Hill Valley, and that Biff must have found Marty’s almanac, traveled back, and gave himself the book.

So BACK to 1967 they go!

It’s clear that the Bobs were really trying to figure shit out here, and weren’t entirely sure how to do it. Marty disguises himself as a John Lennon type hippie, only to find out that everyone in Hill Valley hates hippies. When Marty is found roaming the streets without a draft card, he’s arrested and thrown in jail, only to be rescued by who? Why, a Flower Child Lorraine, who’s since married George and has two kids (but not yet Marty!). George, unfortunately, is studying writing at a faraway college, so Lorraine still lives at home with her parents. We then get a recreation of the scene in the original film, where she brings Marty back to her house for supper, and there’s some nice additions with Marty’s brother and sister, all of 2 and 4, being thrown into the mix, but obviously without the sexual tension between Lorraine and Marty, it doesn’t come close to the genius of the original. But everyone will be happy to know that Uncle Jailbird Joey is…in jail!

The crux of Marty’s problem is that Lorraine, who for some reason doesn’t recognize Marty even though she met him 12 years ago, bailed Marty out with the money she was SUPPOSED to use to go visit George that weekend. Marty does some quick math, figuring out when he was born, counting back 9 months, to realize that…THAT VACATION IS WHEN HE WAS CONCEIVED! So now Marty, in addition to having to find the Almanac, must also find the $500 to give back to Lorraine so she can go visit George and conceive…him!

Yes, finding $500 is a little easier than having to convince your hopeless dweeb Dad to muster up the confidence to ask out the girl of his dreams. But that’s only the beginning of this script’s problems. The Bobs must create a finale to rival one of the greatest finales ever. And they’re obviously having a hard time doing it. The fusion reactor (“Mr. Fusion,” which Doc acquired from the future) has been destroyed, and it’s still not easy to create 1.21 jigawatts of power in 1967. So Doc’s plan is to utilize the center of the state’s power grid, which happens to be hanging over a canyon. Marty will have to fly into the canyon and hook the grid right as Doc centralizes the entire state’s power system, a dangerous method which only produces 3 seconds of usable power. If he misses that window, his car will short circuit and he’ll plunge to his death. Yeah, not exactly BTTF 1 material. But in one of the rare truly funny moments of the script, Marty asks Doc, “Exactly how did you conceive of this plan?” And Doc responds, somewhat absently, “I took some LSD and it just came to me.”

There is one aspect of the draft that worked really well though, and that’s bringing 1985 Doc back to 1967, and having to hide him from 1967 Doc, who is himself a hippy and who is also helping Marty. There aren’t enough scenes with the two Docs together. But what there is is hilarious. Here’s one of the only scenes in the script that matched the magical tone of the first film. In it, Marty and Present Doc are at Marty’s house trying to figure out a way to make sure Marty gets conceived.

Now comes ANOTHER RAP on a different window. Marty turns and sees

DOC BROWN—the DOC OF 1967! This younger Doc is dressed like a cross between an Indian guru, a rock star, and a scientist. Marty is shocked!

MARTY
(to 1985 Doc)
Oh my God, Doc, it’s you! I mean, the you of 1967! He must have seen the newspaper, recognized me and tracked me down!

DOC
Of course he did—he’s a genius, just like me. He is me. (ducks behind a couch) But don’t let him see me—don’t even let him know I’m here in 1967.

Marty gestures to the younger Doc to wait a minute.

MARTY
Then should I just blow him off?

DOC
No, we need me—him. The only way I can repair the time machine is to use my—his lab. Damn these pronouns!

MARTY
Let me see what I can do. Jeez, look at what you’re wearing!

Marty goes over to the other window and opens it. The younger Doc climbs in; he too has the newspaper article.

’67 DOC
Marty! It is you! I knew it! Good to see you—it’s been 12 years! What brings you to 1967?

MARTY
It’s kind of a long story, Doc—

’67 DOC
Wait, don’t tell me! Having too much knowledge of future events can be extremely dangerous.
(a beat)
I remember that from 1955.

MARTY
Right. Well, the bottom line is that we need to get the time machine over to your lab so that he—we—I mean you can repair it.

’67 DOC
You want me to repair it?

DOC
(from behind the couch) Not him. Me!

MARTY
Yes—no—I don’t know.

’67 DOC
What’s the problem?

MARTY
Uh, nothing, I’m just a little confused.

‘67
No, I mean with the time machine.

MARTY
Well, it doesn’t fly properly…

DOC
Don’t tell him that!

’67 DOC
It flies? Far out!

MARTY
Yeah, and Mr. Fusion’s shot, too.

’67 DOC
Who got shot?

DOC
Tell him we need a power source!

MARTY
What, Doc?

’67 DOC
This Mr. Fusion, does he need medical attention?

DOC
Get over here!

Marty wanders over to the couch, drops down on it and throws his head back so he can hear ’85 Doc.

DOC
Tell him we need a power source for the flux capacitor.

MARTY
We need a power source for the flux capacitor.

’67 DOC
You mean to generate 1.21 jigowatts of electricity energy? Again?

DOC
Precisely.

MARTY
Precisely—I mean, yeah.

’67 DOC
Great Scott! I don’t suppose you know about any upcoming lightning storms?

MARTY
Sorry.

’67 DOC
So where is the time machine now?

DOC
Tell him to go home and you’ll bring it over to the lab.

MARTY
Uh, actually, the best thing would be for you to go home, and I’ll bring it over to the lab. Marty ushers him to the window.

’67 DOC
Well, I suppose that makes sense. But what about poor Mr. Fusion?

MARTY
Mr. Fusion’s history, Doc.

’67 DOC
History? Why of course! Future history! This will all make sense to me sometime in the future! I have to remember to think 4th dimensionally. To get into the groove of the continuum.

MARTY
Doc, please: go home.

’67 DOC
Very well, Marty. Hasta luego!

’67 Doc goes back out the window, but as he’s climbing through, the window drops down hard on his LEFT HAND.

’67 DOC
OWWW!

And ’85 Doc grabs his own left hand in identical pain.

DOC
OWWW!

Later on, in another funny moment, Doc finds himself trying to hide from ’67 Doc again. But he runs out of places to hide and the only thing between him and his ’85 self is a mirror frame minus the mirror. But ’67 Doc doesn’t know the mirror is no longer in the frame, and so ’85 Doc realizes the only thing he can do is pretend to be ’67 Doc, who’s confused about why he looks so awful, and the two engage in a classic “mirror image” routine. In any other form, this is juvenile ridiculously silly comedy, but imagining Doc from Back To The Future do a mirror image routine with himself is comedic gold.

Another great part that didn’t make it to the finished film was the character of Peabody (the farm owner who shoots at Marty in the first BTTF when he thinks he’s an alien). In this version, Peabody’s just been released from the nut house because of his insistence 12 years ago that he’d seen an alien. Of course, over the course of the script, Peabody keeps seeing Marty and Doc’s Delorean, even though everyone else seems to just miss it.

Unfortunately, the ending is a big mess. Marty has to go to this anti-war rally, which is obviously this film’s version of the dance, but there’s no tension to it, no real connection to the story. That dance was so heavily entrenched in the plot that we were hanging on every moment. Here, the war rally just feels like something to go to, and Marty’s existence never truly feels like it’s in jeopardy.

What surprised me though was that, despite the convoluted Electrical Grid finale, I was totally into it. This whole time, ’67 Doc has calculated the jump to account for one person (since he doesn’t know that ’85 Doc is jumping back with Marty). Marty realizes this just as he and ’85 Doc are about to jump back to the future. Since ’85 Doc is another 200 pounds, the already damaged propulsion system of the Delorean is in jeopardy of not getting them up to the height of the electrical box. So in a last-second freak out, the two must start dismantling and tossing out various parts of the car as they’re moving, trying to shed 200 pounds before they get to the edge of the cliff! I was shocked at just how into this I was and, if I’m being honest, thought it was more memorable than the end of the original sequel.

So even though this script was all freaking over the place, in the end, I’m happy I read it. But there are a few things we can learn from the read.

The other day, in my “Last Action Hero” post, I mentioned that one of the things you should do before you start your script, is make a list of all the scenes and characters you can create that will best take advantage of your concept. And I felt that’s exactly how Zemeckis and Gale worked. They set this in the 60s, and they asked, “How do we best take advantage of the 60s?” And they thought about hippies and the Vietnam War and war rallies and everyone freaking out about “the commies.” And they tried to create a bunch of funny scenarios around those elements and they did the best job they could. But one of the most important qualities in a writer, is realizing when something isn’t working. It’s one of the hardest choices you ever have to make because sometimes you’re talking about axing months (or even years!) of work. But if something isn’t working, it isn’t working. And you have to be honest with yourself and look to take the script in a new direction. That’s exactly what the Bobs did with the later drafts and it paid off.

Another thing this script teaches us is to be aware when your plot is working too hard. I often tell writers when I’m giving them notes, “We can hear the gears of your plot moving.” And what I mean by that is, it’s taking too much effort to keep us engaged. Characters are routinely telling other characters what’s going on, what just happened, what needs to happen. Too many complex storylines are happening at once and instead of just allowing your characters to exist inside your universe, they exist only to convey information. The gears underneath this draft are louder than a 747. Between Marty’s future kids being in trouble, Biff stealing the almanac and creating an alternate universe, Jennifer being in trouble back in alternate 1985, having to fix the Delorean in time, Marty trying to make sure he’s conceived, the Anti-War rally, the two Docs, and even some things I didn’t get into in the review…it’s too much information. And because it’s too much, there’s no naturalism to the story. There’s no time to entertain.

If you look at the original film, there’s definitely a lot of plot gong on as well, but in that film, we only had to worry about two timelines, whereas in this one, we have to worry about four (the future, normal 1985, alternate 1985, and 1967). And that proved to be the breaking point. But just like the Empire Strikes Back experience, all this is fascinating because it’s another look at a couple of iconic characters in a slightly new scenario. So even if everything’s a little half-baked, it’s fun to come back to this “alternate’ universe.” Not a great script but a groovy read.

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

What I learned: One of the choices you’re faced with as a writer is whether to make the plot in your screenplay simple or complex. Each choice poses its own unique challenges. If you make your plot simple, it allows you to spend more time exploring your characters and your theme. Up In The Air is about a guy dealing with a difficult work transition. There’s no huge driving force. Therefore we can spend most of our time digging into the characters. The downside of a simple plot is that there may not be enough twists and turns and revelations to keep your audience interested. “Too simple” may translate to “Too Boring.” And there are definitely people who feel there wasn’t enough going on “Up In The Air.” The flip side is creating a complex plot, which has a lot of twists and turns and multiple storylines going on. A recently reviewed script on the site, “Tell No One,” is plot heavy, but nails it because it’s such an engaging mystery. The downside to taking this route, however, is potentially creating too complex of a story, like what happened here with “Back to The Future 2.” If you cross a certain line, you will lose the audience, because it’s more information than they want to keep track of. There is no simple way to solve this problem. The best you can do is ask, “Which type of plot am I writing?” and then through trial and error, keep moving the complexity gauge up and down until you find the sweet spot that works for your story. But always be aware of it. And ask your readers. “Is the plot too simple?” “Is it too complex?” Ultimately, they represent your audience.

NO LINK!

It’s Day 4 of Alternative Draft Week, where we look at alternative drafts from the movies you loved (or hated). In some cases, these drafts are said to be better, in others, worse, or in others still, just plain different. Either way, it’s interesting to see what could’ve been. We started out with Roger’s review of James Cameron’s draft of “First Blood 2“. We followed that with my review of “The Last Action Hero.” Then I reviewed the original Ron Bass draft of Entrapment. And today we have a biggie. A really big biggie. The very first drat of The Empire Strikes Back ever written.

Genre: Sci-Fi Fantasy
Premise: While Han Solo goes in search of his Father-In-Law, Ovan Marekal, who has political ties with Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker heads to the Bog Planet where he meets a frog-like Jedi named Minch, who teaches him the ways of the force.
About: This is not the widely circulated “4th Draft” which has Leigh Brackett and Lawrence Kasden’s name on it. This is Brackett’s original first draft of the movie, titled, “Star Wars Sequel.” Brackett was best known (outside of her contribution on “Empire”) for scripting the films, “The Big Sleep,” and “The Long Goodbye.” She was also a prolific science-fiction writer, writing over 200 stories of various lengths in the genre. As a novelist, she wrote crime stories and westerns as well. It was in 1978 that Lucas gave Brackett the first shot at his sequel to Star Wars, which at that time, he apparently didn’t have a title for yet. This was based off the success of Brackett’s space opera novels, though she had never written a science fiction screenplay at the time. Sadly, Brackett died of cancer soon after she turned in this draft.
Writer: Leigh Brackett
Details: 128 pages (2-17-78)

So you ever wanted to watch a lightsaber duel between Obi-Wan and Yoda? Well, if Leigh Brackett had her way, you would’ve gotten it.

Sort of.

Heh heh.

Read on.

First of all, I love Star Wars. It’s movie-perfection for me. I could go on about how much I love it but I’d just be rehashing what billions of people have already said billions of times. I’m also not going to give my opinion on the prequels as movies, as that too has been discussed to death. I will, however say something about the screenwriting side of the films. I simply don’t believe Lucas wrote enough drafts of each script. I’m sure he did plenty of nipping and tucking, but every one of those films feels like the beginning of an idea as opposed to a finely tuned execution of an idea. While everyone has their opinions on why the films missed that spark, I simply wish he’d just put more time into the writing process. I honestly think Lucas could’ve figured it out if he’d given the scripts more time. But it looks like he was more interested in the filmmaking side of the prequels. And as a result, the movies are what they are.

Okay, let’s get to The Empire Strikes Back, a film many consider to be the best in the series. It’s a fascinating film to study in screenplay form because it’s a bit of a structural black sheep. It starts out firing on all cylinders, and then descends slowly, over the course of two hours, into a dark almost trance-like meditation on humankind’s obsession with evil. It breaks a ton of rules, both universally and, one can argue, in the Star Wars universe, and still comes out a great film. It is also, commercially, the least successful film in the franchise, and that’s obviously because of a lot of those rules that it breaks.

There’s been a lot of speculation as to how the story for The Empire Strikes Back came about and I’m not sure this answers that speculation, but it’s a fascinating look at the early seeds of what would eventually become one of the most beloved movies of all time. It’s also a particularly great script to read for one’s screenwriting education. You have one of the most well-known stories in history, and you get to compare it to a similar version where hundreds of different choices were made. Since screenwriting is all about choices (Do I make my character do this or that?), we can see how easy it is to make the wrong one.

Now regardless of all that, just as a Star Wars geek, this is fun. I mean, there are some real gems in here. And as messy as this first draft is, we get a few shocking moments. In particular, there are a couple of entire cities that were axed from the film. Darth Vader has a damn castle. And Yoda has a different name! What the fuck?? Anyway, let’s get to it, shall we?

We start off, just like in the movie, in the ice base. But the planet they’re on isn’t called “Hoth.” “Hoth” actually ends up being the name of the planet that houses Cloud City, which is no longer called “Cloud City.” It’s called “Orbital City.” But I’ll get to that later.

A really nice touch I liked, and something that Lucas was accused of abandoning as the series went on, was that we meet Luke looking over this huge beautiful ice ridge. He’s transfixed by its beauty. And it’s a moment very reminiscent of his moment staring up at the two suns back on Tantooine. Just like in the finished film, Luke then gets cut down by a Wampa monster, and dragged back to its lair.

The script starts deviating from the film almost immediately after that however. Han’s Jabba The Hut sub-plot has been scratched. Instead, we learn that Han’s step-father is a man named Ovan Marekal, a huge political bigwig who’s carefully aligned himself with Darth Vader to protect the people of the galaxy. The Rebels believe that if Han can get to him, he may be able to convince him to fight against Vader, giving the otherwise helpless Rebel Army a fighting chance.

The Imperial Walker sequence is also not here. Instead, after they recover Luke and hear his story about the Wampa, they determine that these creatures are a huge threat to the base. And indeed, almost right away, they begin infiltrating and killing the Rebels group by group (kinda like Aliens). If you read the fourth draft, which is much closer to the finished film, you can see that this is actually carried over into that script. So that while the Rebels must deal with the approaching Imperial Walkers, they are also getting attacked from within by the Wampa creatures, who have breached their base. It’s a way cooler scenario, but obviously scratched for budgetary reasons.

When we meet Darth Vader, we meet him in a castle on the planet of Ton Muund, a huge city planet, maybe an early version of Coruscant? The presentation of this city is much more sinister however, and was likely also scrapped for budget reasons. Interestingly enough, we meet the Emperor here for the first time, and he’s wearing a golden robe. The Emperor tells him to go find Luke Skywalker, the man who destroyed the Death Star, because he believes he possesses the force. This is a great screenplay lesson right here, as it’s a mistake a lot of screenwriters make. In the finished film, we see Darth Vader out on his ship, actively searching the universe for Skywalker. His storyline has already begun, the pursuit of his goal clearly in place. Whereas here, we meet Vader waiting around, hanging out, essentially doing nothing. In screenwiting, you want to come into each character’s storyline as late as possible. If Vader’s waiting around to begin with, then you have to waste all this time getting information to him, having him gear up, and finally see him go after his goal. In that case, he might not even get started with the pursuit until halfway through the screenplay. In the film, he’s already started, which is one of the reasons that the movie has one of the best opening acts in history. No doubt this slow start comes from Brackett’s background in novels, where you have a lot more time to explore each character’s storyline. In screenplays, that doesn’t work.

So Han, Leia, Threepio, and Chewie head off in search of Marekal, and Luke ends up flying to the “Bog Planet.” Since Ben doesn’t tell him to go here in this version, I’m confused as to how he knew to go. But he goes anyway. Once there, he immediately meets a frog-like creature named “Minch.” Lucas must have known fairly specifically what he wanted here because most of the Minch/Yoda training sessions are the same, but there are a few key differences. When Minch/Yoda is explaining the ways of jedi swordfighting, he calls on Obi-Wan, who appears, and then Obi-Wan and Minch/Yoda have a lightsaber battle. Not sure how a ghost can battle something real, but it was cool because it was Obi-Wan battling Yoda! Or Minch! Then later, when Luke takes on “Pretend Vader” as his final lesson, the swamp disappears, and the two find each other in the vastness of space. Vader, while explaining the dark side to Luke, even lifts his hand, grabs some stars, and lets them pour through his hand. It’s pretty trippy.

And then, before Luke is to leave, Ben’s ghost tells him he wants Luke to meet someone. A second later, a man appears next to Ben. It’s LUKE’S FATHER! Right. Not Vader! But his real father! Or at least, his real father in this version. Luke’s father tells him about his sister, warns him about the dark side, and then lets Luke go on his merry way. At this point I was so confused I didn’t know whether to have a seizure or pass out. But I loved it. It instantly grabbed me if only for the reason that I now had no idea how this original version of The Empire Strikes Back was going to end.

Back with Han, just like in the film, he’s looking for refuge from the Empire, who’s been chasing him, and remembers his old friend, the Baron Lando Kadar. Before I forget, one nice touch I thought Brackett added in this version, was that Chewbacca is jealous that Han and Leia are spending so much time together. He disgustedly growls whenever the two look all doe-eyed at each other, and Threepio even chimes in and makes fun of him for it. I actually think it could’ve worked in the film.

Anyway, before Han finds Cloud City, he first goes to the planet’s actual surface and finds an ancient ruined city run by Avatar like natives called the “Cloud People,” white skin white-haired aliens who ride on flying Manta-Rays. They’re the ones who tell him about “Cloud City,” which is actually called “Orbital City” here. So up Han goes, where he meets his old friend Lando Kadar, and from here on out, the plot is pretty much the same. Kadar (Lando) has made a deal with Vadar to use these guys as bait for Luke. But there are no bounty hunters here so Boba Fett does not make an appearance.

The one difference, however, is that we get our first real glimpse into the specifics behind the clones (from the Clone Wars). And they are nothing like the clones from the prequels. Lando, it turns out, is a clone from the Clone Wars. Instead of procreating, he’s been using his blood to recreate himself over and over again over time. Whether Brackett came up with this idea on her own or Lucas still hadn’t figured out what the Clone Wars were is anyone’s guess.

Luke finally gets to Orbital City, using the Cloud People to help him sneak in, and the big lightsaber duel happens. The difference here is that Luke is a fucking badass, and HE is the one lifting pieces with the force and hurling them at Vader, beating the shit out of him in their duel in every way. But it’s all a ruse, and we realize the essence of this idea was moved into the final lightsaber duel in Jedi. Vader getting mauled is a trick. He’s allowing Luke to draw on his hatred so he’ll come closer to the Dark Side. All in all, the “dark side” plays a much bigger role in this version. It’s really hit on over and over again. And the film is almost exclusively a character study on Luke’s struggle to stave off that darkness.

Nobody’s hand gets cut off here. After Vader details his ruse, Luke escapes him, hops on the Falcon, and everyone flies away to some flower planet. And there you have it!

If you’re a Star Wars fan, this is a fun read, but as I mentioned before, it’s really a great screenwriting lesson as well. After reading this and watching the movie, you can see how dramatically the script was improved by adding a sense of immediacy and by raising the stakes at every corner. Vader isn’t hanging out back at his city. He’s out actively looking for Luke! The Rebel base isn’t being attacked by puny Wampa monsters. It’s being attacked by the Empire! Han isn’t just being followed by the Empire. He’s being followed by the Empire AND bounty hunters!

Kasdan also understands the conflict between Leia and Han much better. Brackett didn’t identify that their back and forth banter could’ve added a lot of fun to the script, so she only barely touches on it. Whereas Kasdan obviously goes to town with the two, creating one of the more fun romantic back and forth’s in history.

I’ve heard that Lucas laid out the key story points for Brackett and she was responsible for everything else. This is why most of these plot points are still in the finished film, because Lucas had those in place from the get-go. But authors have written that none of Brackett’s contributions were included in the finished movie. I would actually argue that a key element of her draft made it to the final film, and that is the tone. It feels like Brackett set the tone here, and she really does take Star Wars to a darker place than the original film, which was quite a risk when you think about it. It feels like Kasdan recognized and kept that tone, using his more extensive screenwriting knowledge to build a great story on top of it. But since “Empire” is celebrated so extensively for that brave darkness, I believe Brackett should get some credit (and maybe that’s why she does have credit on the final film).

A very fun read if you’re a Star Wars fan. A very educational read if you’re a screenwriter. But as a script, Brackett’s draft wasn’t ready for the spotlight. It’s too bad she died. I would’ve liked to see where she went from here.

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read (cause, like, it’s Star Wars!)
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: Let’s say you have a scene with a bunch of characters. Make sure every single one of those characters has a goal in that scene. The worst thing you can do is have your characters waiting around for something to happen. That’s not what movie characters do! They DO things. They’re ACTIVE. Being active is what makes them interesting! And it doesn’t have to be something humongous. It can be as simple as trying to find the phone number of an old friend. As long as it’s SOMETHING. Comparing these two drafts, in the Brackett Draft, we meet Vader hanging out on his throne, waiting for information. Compare that to the film, where he’s in his Star Destroyer, gung-ho searching the galaxy to find Luke. Which is more interesting? Or let’s look at the rule on a much smaller scale. In Brackett’s draft, when we meet Han, he’s sort of rummaging around the base, running into people and occasionally talking to them. Compare that to the film, where he’s desperately trying to get his ship fixed so he can get the hell out of here! Which one is more interesting? At the beginning of every scene, take every character and ask yourself, “What are they doing right now? What is their goal in this scene?” You do that and you’ll have a bunch of interesting characters engaging in an interesting scene. You don’t, and you’ll have a bunch of characters standing around doing nothing, waiting for their turn to talk. Which one is more interesting?

Another thing that caught my interest – the fact that budgetary reasons may have led to the key creative choice that jumpstarted this story. I’m betting that Lucas wanted to show Vader in his castle on that city. But when he realized he didn’t have the money, he had to put him somewhere else. Where? Well, on a Star Destroyer. But then he was forced to ask, if Vader is on a Star Destroyer, what is he doing? Where is he going? Obviously, he concluded that he’d have to be going after Luke, which informed his choice to have the Empire attack the base on Hoth. Don’t know if that’s the true genesis of the idea but I’m willing to bet on it after reading this draft. It makes perfect sense. And it may be why the Prequels were so boring in places. Lucas could put his characters anywhere, and by doing that, he didn’t have to have them doing anything, much like Vader in this draft.

It’s Day 3 of Alternative Draft Week, where we look at alternative drafts from the movies you loved (or hated). In some cases, these drafts are said to be better, in others, worse, or in others still, just plain different. Either way, it’s interesting to see what could’ve been. We started out with Roger’s review of James Cameron’s draft of “First Blood 2“. We followed that with my review of “The Last Action Hero.” And today we’re taking on Ron Bass’ draft of “Entrapment.” So enjoy.

Genre: Action/Espionage/Heist/Romance
Premise: An undercover insurance agent is sent by her employer to track down and help capture an art thief. But to do so, she must befriend him, gain his trust, and help him with his next heist.
About: Ron Bass wrote the original draft for this 1999 caper, which was widely praised. But over the course of a dozen drafts, Don Macpherson & William Broyles Jr. took it in another direction, creating what some believe was a lame excuse to pair together two hot actors at the time, Catherine Zeta-Jones and Sean Connery. Ron Bass, who we’ve reviewed before, began writing at the age of six while bedridden with a childhood illness. Although he loved it, he decided on a more practical career after his college professor told him he’d never be published. He graduated from Harvard Law and began a successful career in entertainment law, eventually rising to the level of partner, but the writing bug never left. So he returned to it and had his first novel published in 1978 (“The Perfect Thief”). Producer Jonathan Sanger optioned his third novel “The Emerald Illusion”, opening the door for Bass to become a screenwriter.
Writer: Ron Bass
Details: 118 pages (1st Draft, December 2, 1996)

It would be nice if I could lay out all these stories with the same kind of detail I did “The Last Action Hero,” but, contrary to popular belief, I don’t have access to the Hollywood Development Archives. Much of what I have here is cobbled together from lore and heresay. What I can tell you about Entrapment though is this: Ron Bass’ first draft is something I’ve been hearing about forever. Supposedly, he’d whipped together a wickedly sharp romance-caper that had everyone in Hollywood talking. Unfortunately, over the course of 12 drafts, much of the greatness that was in that early draft was left on the typing room floor – or so it is said. The big complaint was that the producers had taken a cool edgy flick and turned it into a mountain of cotton candy, a lame piece of Hollywood fluff. But fluff turned out to be exactly what the masses wanted (doesn’t it always?) The movie opened on May 7th of 1999 to a surprising 20.1 million, dethroning a little film called “The Matrix” from the top spot. It ended up making 220 million dollars worldwide, but was quickly forgotten three weeks later, like a lot of movies at that time, its memory swallowed up by the behemoth of George Lucas’ long-awaited return to Star Wars, “The Phantom Menace.” Either way, no one can argue that the movie didn’t do well. The question is, could it have done more? Would this draft have made Entrapment the kind of film we still talk about today? My memory of the flick is that of a geriatric old warbler and a woman young enough to be his granddaughter, running around and flirting a lot, which, to be honest, made me very uncomfortable. I also remember tons and tons of really cheesy dialogue. So I was interested to see if this initial draft was free of all that.

Gin Baker is a young sexy insurance agent whose job it is to recover stolen paintings for high-class clients. When an expensive painting is stolen out of a 70th floor John Hancock Building condo, the crime scene’s handiwork points to one person, Andrew McDougal, an internationally known super-thief. There’s only one problem. Andrew is 60 years old and has been off the thief-circuit for over a decade. Why would he come out of retirement to steal a relatively unknown painting?

Well that’s what Gin is going to find out. She travels halfway across the world and finds McDougal (or “Mac”) at a major art auction. She uses plenty of skin and her big smile to lure Mac in, but he’s immediately wary of her, knowing this game is full of people pretending to be someone they’re not. But Mac’s not immune to the temptation of flesh either, and allows Gin into his circle, at least for the time being. After an impromptu theft, the two head back to his suite for some seriously age-inappropriate sex.

I’m not going to mince words. This portion of the script is awful. It amounts to two people trading cheesy supposedly sexually-charged barbs in the same 1-2 “setup and payoff” rhythm you’d get from a Sesame Street skit. There’s no spontaneity, no originality to the dialogue. It’s just “setup” “payoff” “setup” “payoff” over and over again. For example, Mac would say to Gin something like “Better get an umbrella. I hear it’s going to rain.” Her reply: “That’s okay. I like being wet.” Or Gin would say, “Escaping those guards will be hard.” Mac’s reply: “I’d rather be hard than soft.” That’s not real dialogue from the script. But it might as well be. This is what you have to trudge through in these first 50 pages.

This is exacerbated by the overuse of commentary in the action, where every single nuance, every single eye flicker, every inner thought is supplied in detail in between the dialogue. Here’s what I mean:

MAC
I stole your suitcase when I left you at the bar. I have since sent it on to the States, with three chips, well hidden.

Are you following.

MAC
Since you aren’t there to claim it, the bag will sit at Customs. Safe. Unless…

No smile. No smile at all.

MAC
They receive. An anonymous. Tip.

Jesus Fucking Christ.

GIN
That’s entrapment.

MAC
No. Entrapment’s what cops do to robbers.

We can feel her heart pounding from here.

That’s what it’s like for the entire script, or at least the first half. The biggest problem with this, especially when combined with the endless flirty dialogue, is that it makes the entire romance come over as if it’s trying too hard. We feel like it’s being forced down our throats: These two like each other! They really fucking like each other!!! And I understand that this is a first draft and that the tone and originality of the dialogue will be worked out over time, but it’s just I heard such good things about this script and I’d assumed that meant addressing my main problem of over-the-top cheesiness.

The structure during this portion of the screenplay is a mess as well. Although we know that Gin is trying to retrieve the original stolen painting, we never met the person who had the painting stolen, and therefore don’t really care whether they get it back or not. Nor is there any specific urgency in obtaining the painting, no timeframe or time limit. For that reason, the only reason for the story to exist is to listen to an over-sexed Nursing Home patient and a playmate with grandfather issues to banter mindlessly amidst an occasional fuck.

It isn’t until Mac (spoilers here) “reveals” to Gin that he’s an art thief and wants to include her on his next job that the story picks up. But even here, as he trains her for the job, the plot device feels like an excuse to give these two more time to exchange sexual innuendos and flirtatious quips. The training sequences, which involve stuff like jumping out of planes, are devoid of any tension, because there are no stakes at all. We aren’t told what Mac’s after and therefore don’t care if he succeeds. It’s all really boring.

But then…

It’s as if Bass all of a sudden realized what his story was about (more spoilers) and the script does a complete 180. There’s a couple of well-executed twists, the primary of which is Gin revealing that she’s not really an insurance agent, but a thief. Her job is cover, as well as a sly way to figure out where and how to get the very paintings she’s supposed to be protecting. And that while Mac thought he’d been testing her to see if she was capable of pulling off his job, all this time she’d actually been testing *him* to see if *he* was capable of pulling off *her* job. And that job is what brought me back on board – the plan to steal 8 billion dollars.

And this is where the draft and the film differ. Whereas the film places the climactic heist in the Petronas Towers of Kuala Lumpur, Bass’ draft focuses on the 1997 Hong Kong change-over back to China. While the execution of this storyline is superior to the film version, I can’t help but notice that it’s a change that needed to happen. You can’t release a technology-heavy movie in 1999 about 1997. It would be like making 2012 in 2013.

Whatever the case, the last 50 pages of this script are really well-constructed. The twists are executed to perfection. The multi-stage heist (which includes invading a mountain guarded by an army) is both inventive and exciting. We see things we’ve never seen before in this type of movie. And whereas the first half of the script has zero tension, the pursuit of 8 billion dollars really gives the second half the kick in the ass it needs, since the stakes for pulling off the biggest heist in the history of the planet are naturally pretty high.

So to me, Bass’ draft is two separate screenplays, the lame first half and the sizzling second half, which I’m sure can be attributed to this being his first crack at the story. What isn’t solved, unfortunately, is the lame back and forth cheesy dialogue between the two main characters. That was always the big issue for me. And my impression was that this draft would come off as a smarter edgier version of what we saw in theaters. That wasn’t the case.

But you can’t deny the fact that this ending rocks, and if I were 20th Century Fox, I’d extract the big Tapei Mountain Sequence and put it into one of their other big franchises, cause it really is well done. The 8 billion dollar heist is also nicely executed. My experience tells me it should be impossible in real life, but Bass sold it well and I bought it.

Anyway, another interesting peek into development, and an excuse to run to the video store, grab Entrapment, and do some serious procrastination on whatever script you’re working on. But you’ll have to beat me there, cause I’m going right now. :)

P.S. If you’re a fan of these kinds of films, don’t forget to check out my old review of Lovers, Liars, and Thieves.

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

What I learned: Chemistry between your romantic leads is essential, but chemistry isn’t as simple as nailing the casting. It needs to start on the page. Now there are exceptions to every rule, but one that’s fairly consistent is: keep your leads from kissing and/or having sex until the third act. Why? Because chemistry is built on the unknown, on our curiosity of if they’re going to consummate the relationship. Think about how sexually charged your relationship is with that certain guy or girl. Why is it that way? Cause you haven’t done anything about it yet! Once you “do it,” the unknown disappears. That sexy spark which permeates through every sentence goes bye-bye. Characters in screenplays are no different. Making them sleep together = losing the fun. Gin and Mac sleep together within the first 40 pages here (I don’t remember if they did this in the film or not) and there’s no doubt that something is lost in the process. Now I’m not saying this is a blanket rule. In a movie like “The Notebook,” for example, which is a memoir that takes place over an extended period of time, the plot dictates that we experience that first kiss and that first sexual experience fairly early. But here, in a movie like Entrapment, which is basically built on the chemistry of the leads, that choice is disastrous, cause you eliminate the big thing we’re all wondering if they’re going to do or not. Interest over.

It’s “Alternative Draft Week” here at Scriptshadow, where we look at alternative drafts from the movies you loved (or hated). In some cases, these drafts are said to be better, in others, worse, or in others still, just plain different. Either way, it’s interesting to see what could’ve been. Yesterday, Roger reviewed a James Cameron draft of “First Blood 2.” Today, I’m reviewing one of my favorite spec stories of all time, Penn and Leff’s draft of “The Last Action Hero.”

Genre: Action-Comedy
Premise: A high school kid finds himself inside the world of his favorite action star’s new movie. He uses his extensive knowledge of action films to help the hero, Arno Slater, navigate the story and beat the bad guys.
About: Zak Penn and Adam Leff wrote this as their very first screenplay and sold it soonafter. It was subsequently rewritten by Shane Black, which is the draft that made it to theaters. The story goes that those who originally championed the project felt that a cool edgy flick was turned into a silly watered down PG-13 piece of garbage. There are still hurt feelings about the project to this day. Penn has gone on to write the two X-Men sequels, Elektra, and The Incredible Hulk. Leff wrote another script with Penn, PCU, as well as Bio-Dome.
Writers: Zak Penn and Adam Leff
Details: 124 pages (9/9/91 draft)

The Last Action Hero saga is one of my favorite Hollywood stories, and something I’ve written about before. This shows exactly how a seemingly good idea (relatively speaking) can get stirred and shaken and slammed around in Development to the point where it becomes an utter piece of shit, resulting in the kind of movie that convinces the average movie-goer that anyone can write a Hollywood film. For those who don’t know about the way it all went down, settle in and enjoy yourselves. This is a good one.

It all started back in 1991, when Zak Penn and Adam Leff, two college students, thought they could slap together a screenplay and sell it for a million bucks. The idea was to write a screenplay spoofing the action films of the 80s. They called it, “Extremely Violent” and it was about an Arnold Swarchenegger-type action star whose world was rocked when an extremely movie-savvy 15 year old magically crossed from the real world into his film. They thought it would be great to have a guy saying all the things that the audience was thinking, such as, “You should go save your wife now before they use her as a pawn against you later!” Basically the action equivalent of Scream before Scream was made.

The two had one of those “friend of a friend” contacts in the business, who read the script and liked it enough to recommend it to an up-and-coming agent by the name of Chris Moore (yes, Project Greenlight Chris Moore). For those who argue that Hollywood is all a game of luck and chance, this next portion of the story is your ammo. Being Hollywood’s Golden Boy at the time, Moore had hundreds of scripts he was supposed to read, and probably the lowest script on the totem pole was some garbage by a couple of college kids who obviously only got their script on his desk through a friend trying to help them out. Since Moore rarely had any time to read anyway, it was likely this script would never be read. But it just so happened that on that day, his lunch date canceled, and he had nothing to do for an hour. “Extremely Violent” was sitting on the top of the pile, so he thought “What the hell?” picked it up, and started reading it. He instantly fell in love with it. Thought the tone and the story were perfect. And it immediately become his number 1 priority project.

So Penn and Leff got the call of a lifetime (which they, of course, thought was normal, having no Hollywood experience). A big agent loves your script. They’re going to try and sell it. The script goes out, and low and behold, it SELLS for hundreds of thousands of dollars! Two college kids are living the dream. It’s true! Anybody can write a screenplay! (that’s the sound of me sighing)

But Moore didn’t want to just sell this thing. He wanted to get it made. So began the next step, which was to package the script with the kind of talent that would bring buzz to the project. Of course at that time, there was no bigger name in the writing world than Shane Black, the author of such films as Lethal Weapon and The Last Boy Scout. Now the irony here was that Penn and Leff wrote the script parodying Black’s writing style (in the same way that the movie parodied action films). But all that was white noise. Moore knew if he could get the hot Black onboard in some capacity, the film would have a shot at getting made. So they sent him the script, and low and behold, Shane loved it! He immediately decided he wanted to produce the project.

Now even though Shane was on as producer, the unspoken hope of everyone was that Shane would rewrite it. With Shane being the hottest writer in town, a script written by him was guaranteed to be made. Although Shane resisted at first (he’d never rewritten anyone before) there was a key piece of the puzzle that needed to be addressed. For this project to be a sure-fire go-picture, they needed an A-List star. And the obvious choice to play the main character in the movie was the biggest movie star in the world – Arnold Swarchenegger. The likelihood of Swarchenegger signing on to a script written by two nobodies was slim. But if Shane Black rewrote the script….then maybe – just maybe – they could nab him. And so the rewrite process began.

Everything started off wonderfully. Shane told Penn and Leff that all of their ideas were welcome. He would send them pages, get their take, and a collaborative effort would be made to bring this thing home. After the very first exchange of pages however, Penn was livid. He felt that even in these small doses, Shane had already ruined a lot of the key things that made the script work. After a couple more meetings, things became so heated that fights almost broke out. In retrospect, the reason for this is fairly obvious. You had a writer who had never rewritten anyone before. And you had a writing pair that didn’t understand how the development process worked (just the fact that they were *invited* to participate in the rewrite should’ve been cause for celebration). Since there was obviously no way the project could continue this way, Penn and Leff were told to take a hike.

Here is Penn’s explanation of why the changes Shane made were so terrible…”They added mobsters. They’re taking the movie out of the strict action movie genre and trying to make it a parody of many different kinds of movies. Some of it’s a parody of James Bond movies, some of it’s a parody of action movies, and some of it’s a parody of buddy camp noirish movies. It’s pretty astounding to see how badly they screwed it up,” Penn said, laughing.

Zak felt that Shane shifted the parody of the hero to much more of the Mel Gibson-Bruce Willis archetype. The “wisecracking, angry down-on-his-luck cop, which is a pretty enormous change and pretty much pervades every line of Arnold’s dialogue. I think, frankly, that it hurts the movie tremendously, because the whole point of the movie was the counterpoint between the kid who’s smart and like us, and the other character who’s a fantasy character, who’s an idiot, who’s literally one-dimensional.”

Shane shot back that Penn can say what he wants, but the reality is that his draft is the one that got Arnold on board, and therefore ultimately got the movie made. Now whether the script got Arnold on board because Arnold genuinely liked it, or because Shane was the biggest writer in town and his vision was more trusted, we’ll probably never know (unless anyone’s got a direct line to the Govenator). But this brings up a larger issue, and one of the major failures of the development system – which is letting an actor influence or change key aspects of a story. Most actors don’t understand how to craft a story, just like most writers don’t understand how to craft a performance. Any time you allow an actor to change major story elements, you’re playing with fire, and this is exactly what happened when Swarcheneggar demanded changes.

Arnold was initially disappointed that his character was too “two-dimensional” and wanted his character to be deeper. On the surface this sounds like a smart request. “Three-dimensional character” is a buzzword the industry lives by. But the whole point of Arnold’s character WAS that he was two-dimensional. That’s why he does all these dumb things. That’s why he needs the help of a 15 year old kid. That’s the exact thing the movie is making fun of, the fact that these action characters are so two-dimensional. So by adhering to this request, the writers and producers were knowingly making the movie worse. Of course, what was the alternative? Let the biggest action star in the world walk? Of course not. You gotta do what he says.

The final straw in the original writers’ eyes was to change the kid’s age from 15 to 12. This ended up sanitizing the harder edge they were going for and officially turned the movie into a kiddie film. The thought behind the choice was, younger kid equals broader appeal which equals larger box office, but the opposite actually happened. The audience sniffed out that the producers were trying to please everybody, and stayed away in droves (though I’m not convinced this decision wasn’t influenced by the fact that the John Conner character from Terminator 2 – released just two years prior – was closer in age and tone to the Danny character from Penn and Leff’s draft – maybe they were afraid the characters would come off as too similar?).

But I think the ultimate question here is, was the spec draft really any better than the script that became the film? Or was this a misread from the get-go, a silly idea that never should’ve been turned into a movie in the first place? Interestingly enough, Chris Moore still talks about the project, haunted by the fact that it turned out so bad. He still believes it could be made into a great movie, and looks forward to the day when everyone’s forgotten it, so he can remake the thing and try again.

THE REVIEW

Now I was told the draft I read was the original spec but looking at the title page, it’s titled, “The Last Action Hero.” Since we know the original spec was titled, “Extremely Violent,” this may be one draft removed from that spec. Chances are it was probably an attempt to clean up the script before they sent it out to the big names, like Shane Black. Anyway, something to keep in mind.

“The Last Action Hero” introduces us to 15 year old Danny, a clever but introverted kid who embraces his loner label by escaping into the beautiful city of New York, or, more specifically, an old rundown movie theater where he watches as many movies as they’ll play in a day. His favorite films are those starring super action star “Arno Slater,” whose new movie, “Extremely Violent” is coming out next week.

The reclusive projectionist of the theater (and Danny’s only friend) sets up a private screening for him so he can watch “Extremely Violent” before anyone else. During the screening, a tear in the screen causes a cosmic merging of reality and fantasy and sucks Danny into the very movie he’s watching. Before he knows it, he’s standing right next to his hero, Arno Slater!

The two are immediately attacked by the film-within-a-film’s bad guys, “The Twins,” and not only do the Twins promise to kill Arno, they promise to kill his new friend (Danny) as well! For this reason, Danny and Arno have to stay together so Arno can protect him.

Danny figures this is probably a dream and decides to ride it out. He warns Arno that because of the collateral damage he caused in his previous action scene with The Twins, he’s about to be screamed at by his always-angry captain, but Arno doesn’t know what he’s talking about (he’s a movie character and therefore has no idea what’s coming around the corner, even though it’s obvious to all of us). He’s completely shocked then when they get back to the station and he’s screamed at by his captain! Danny was right! But how did he know that? This is followed by another typically 80s action movie scene where Arno goes home to his purposefully cliché wife who only exists to dress his wounds and tell him everything’s going to be okay.

Danny becomes acutely aware that this world he’s in operates exclusively under movie conventions, and realizes he can prevent a lot of the unnecessary danger and violence that Arno would encounter. He points out that the real issue isn’t the Twins, but the big ultimate conspiracy. If they can figure out the conspiracy now, they don’t even have to deal with The Twins or any other nonsense. In essence, they can cut straight to the end. All this does though is make Arno’s head hurt because he doesn’t think three moves ahead. He thinks like an action-movie hero, in the here and now. And the here and now usually involves shooting a bunch of bad guys and figuring out the consequences later.

This sort of back-and-forth is the central conflict of the story. Danny tries to teach Arno how to think three steps ahead and avoid all unnecessary violence, and Arno resists, preferring to shoot the hell out of anyone who gives him a mean look (again, very similar to Terminator 2, which makes me think that a lot of Black’s changes were out of his hands – he had to make them to differentiate the dynamic between the two films).

The Last Action Hero is actually a good idea for a movie. Part of the fun of watching popcorn films is predicting what’s going to happen next, which, even if you’re a minor movie buff, is fairly easy. To create a character who essentially says what all of us are already thinking is the kind of device that plays well if done right. Especially back in the 80s when every action film was so mindlessly predictable.

But my biggest problem with the script is that it doesn’t take advantage of this opportunity. For example, when Danny and Arno go back to the precinct, Danny observes, “You’re about to get chewed out by your captain.” Where is the drama inherent in a random observation like that? Why aren’t we using Danny’s “powers” to create drama? For instance, it would be much more interesting if, say, he offered: “No no. You can’t go back to the precinct. Your captain’s going to yell at you and take away your badge and then you won’t be able to stay on the case!” Now Arno has to make a decision. Does he listen to the kid or ignore him? Because a choice is involved, the moment is dramatic. Same goes for the following wound-dressing scene. It’s sorta funny to see a paper-thin female lead exist only to dress Arno’s wounds, but if it’s just observational, then all we’re doing is spoofing action flicks a la “Scary Movie.” Danny doesn’t even need to be there for that. And if Danny doesn’t need to be there, what’s the point of having him in the first place?

This eventually changes later in the script when Danny starts calling the shots. He tells Arno they need to go get his wife so the bad guys can’t use her as a pawn later (which is kinda funny because the wife is so used to being used as a pawn that she actually resists being protected before she needs to be). And then, instead of going into a lair full of bad guys where he’ll surely get hurt, Danny advises Arno to go to a public place and call 50 policeman for backup so there’s no way the bad guys can possibly hurt him. Now we’re taking advantage of the concept, but it was a full 75 pages into the story, and in my opinion, too late. By that point, I’d checked out.

I’m also surprised, taking into account the nature of the story, Penn was so pissed about Black’s decision to turn Arno into more of a “Gibson/Willis” archetype. Swarchenegger wasn’t known for being a cop in his films, so the fact that Penn and Leff made him one already went against how we identify Swarchenegger. So Black extending that into the Gibson/Willis arena was at the very least a natural progression of what they’d already started.

Anyway, my guess is that “The Last Action Hero” is one of those scripts that was lucky to be written in the golden age of specs, when a great concept was all you needed for a sale. It likely wouldn’t have a chance in today’s stingy market. Though in fairness you could say that about most specs of yesteryear.

So which draft do you like better? Or should this script even have been purchased in the first place?

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

What I learned: Well first of all, I think you need to exploit your concept to the fullest. Whenever you come up with a great movie idea, you want to sit down and write out all the possible scenarios that will best take advantage of that idea, then include all the “hits” from that list in your script. But because this script is really about deconstructing clichés, it’s a good reminder to always perform a “cliché check” run-through of your script. Read through it with the specific intent of asking yourself at every stage, “Will the audience know what scene is next?” “Will the audience know what line is next?” Because stories have a certain pattern, there is going to be an inherent predictability to your story. But the key moments should be unexpected and original.

For those who want to hear Zak’s reaction to the ordeal, follow this link.

The story behind “The Last Action Hero” comes from the book, “The Big Deal,” by Thom Taylor, which details the development process on a number of spec screenplays. You can find the book on Amazon here.