Genre: Comedy
Premise: After a freak plane crash, an awkward teenage boy must enlist the help of a sexually frustrated dwarf, a smokin’ hot cyborg, and an idiot in a bunny suit to defeat the Nocturnal Wench Everlasting and restore sunlight to the bizarre land of Spectre Leaf.
About: This is the official winner of the Scriptshadow Logline/Screenplay Contest. 1000 Loglines were submitted, which were narrowed down to 100, of which I read the first 10 pages. From those, the 28 best were selected, of which I read the entire screenplay. “Oh Never, Spectre Leaf!” was the clear cut winner. As for C. Ryan and Chad, they wrote a script called “The Wake” (a zombie anthology) that won them Screenplay Of The Month on Triggerstreet in 2007. That led to signing with a manager (Jewerl Ross of Silent R Lit). The South Carolinans then came out to LA to take some meetings in 2008, but unfortunately nothing came of them. So they went back to South Carolina to think up their next masterpiece. Which turned out to be…THIS. Something I thought was really interesting to hear, was that Ryan reviewed 150 scripts on Triggerstreet in a single year. Now to some that might sound like torture, but the second I heard that, everything made sense. This script exercises the kind of skill that only comes from someone who understands all the pitfalls that make a read boring. Turns out those 150 reviews paid off.
Writers: C. Ryan Kirkpatrick and Chad Musick
Details: 110 pages


Oh man, where do I start with this one? I guess we’ll start with the logline. Because I almost didn’t pick it. Quite honestly, it’s not the kind of story that appeals to me. But it was so bizarre, I felt I just had to give it a chance, even though I was 99% sure that they wouldn’t be able to pull it off. These sort of “throw everything and the kitchen sink” at the logline approaches definitely make the logline stand out, but it’s rare that the writers can actually back it up. When I read the first 10 pages, I thought, “Hmmm…this is actually really good.” It was one of the few scripts I marked down immediately as a finalist. There was hope!

But again, I was skeptical. As I noted before, a bad First 10 Pages almost guarantees a bad script. Unfortunately, the flip side of that doesn’t hold true. A *good* first ten pages does not guarantee a *good* script. This is mainly because it’s not hard to write an intriguing first 10 pages. Have someone of prominence get murdered. Have a woman defy physics as she’s chased by mysterious “agents” across city rooftops. Throw a giant alien ship over Johannesburg. It’s really not that difficult when you think about it. But the second act is like an amateur screenwriter graveyard. It’s where scripts go to die. This is where screenplays truly get their mettle tested and I had already experienced too many screenplays that didn’t know what to do once they left the safety of the first 25 pages. Having a clearly definable goal. Building a story. Developing characters that arc. Raising the stakes. Placing obstacles in your characters’ paths. It’s that complex juggling act that you can only learn by doing it over and over and over again.

Now if just writing a good screenplay weren’t enough of a challenge, C. Ryan and Chad decided to make their job even tougher. The story (if you couldn’t tell by the logline) is a reimagining of The Wizard Of Oz. I can’t tell you how many scripts I’ve read that were reimaginings of The Wizard Of Oz or Alice In Wonderland. And every single one of them was, to put it nicely, not good. I’d even go so far as to say nearly every MOVIE that’s ever tried to reimagine these two classics has failed. The problem is, you’re trying to out-imagine two of the most imaginiative stories of all time. Talking lions, card people, tin men, shrinking heroes, flying monkeys. Writer’s attempts to put a new spin on this stuff usually ends up in cliché, failure, or worst of all, embarrassment. Oh Never, Spectre Leaf is the first script I’ve ever read where they reimagine all these things in a fresh new way.

But creating crazy characters is only half the battle. We still have to want to go on the journey with them. And while some of these characters are about as cuddly as a rabid porcupine, you’re always dying to hear the next thing that comes out of their mouths. Probably the thing that impressed me most about this script was just how distinguished all these weird characters were. The dwarf is sexually frustrated, Death is manically depressed, the Wench is eternally cocky, we even have a Shakespearean werewolf. Combine that with each character talking their own way, acting their own way, and the level of uniqueness here just leaps off of the page.

So how does it all go down?

I’ll be honest, it’s kinda hard to summarize Oh Never, Spectre Leaf. It wasn’t designed to light up a coverage report, that’s for sure. But I’ll give it a shot. Holden Tucker is a typical geeky teenager with typical geeky teenager problems, namely that he can’t get laid. His best friend to the end is his pet iguana, Wyclef. When Holden’s single mom gets an unexpected call informing her her mother’s just died, Holden’s forced to jump on the next plane to attend the funeral (and just so you know these guys’ geek cred isn’t in question, the flight number is “815”).

We’re off to see the wizard! The wonderful wizard…of…….Spectre Leaf?

The pilots must not have received the entire flight plan because the plane ends up disintegrating in mid-air and scattering across the mysterious island of “Spectre Leaf.” Why is it called “Spectre Leaf?” Because, as one of the characters explains, tongue-in-cheek: once you’re there, you can never “’spect to leave.” Spectre Leaf is basically Joss Whedon’s wet dream. There are enough creatures on this island to fill up every movie and TV show he ends up doing for the rest of his life.

As for Holden, part of his plane landed on and killed what we assume from the two hooker boots sticking out from under it, was probably a prostitute. And that prostitute happened to be a very angry dwarf’s date for the evening. Dink Ledbetter, four feet of muttonchops and the worst mouth this side of Richard Prior is livid. This was, for all intents and purposes, his one chance at getting laid, and Holden and his damn plane ruined it all. If you thought you were prepared for this script before, you might realign your prognosis when Dink hits you with this line: “I was on a picnic, jackass! And I was half a jar of full-moonshine away from cramming my funstuff in her shitbox!”

Despite how much the gun-toting dwarf would like to blow Holden’s face into oblivion, the two find themselves with other problems, such as the Siamese werewolf that just showed up. Mecutio and Pippi Hemingway inform Dink that the Nocturnal Wench Everlasting is on her way and she wants the boy. Not that Dink could give a shit, but he apparently hates the Nocturnal Wench more than he hates Holden, so he grabs him and the two make a mad dash into the sewers of Spectre Leaf.

Eventually they end up at Dink’s old Orphanage, where Holden learns his purpose. The land of Spectre Leaf has been expecting him. For the last three dozen years, the island has been cast into darkness by the Nocturnal Wench Everlasting, and if Holden can get his hands on a set of three golden keys, he may be able to unlock the chest that has kept this place in darkness, breaking the wench’s spell and bringing light back to the land of Spectre Leaf. A very unhappy Dink is assigned to protect him on his journey. And a half-retarded man-bunny named Harvey (of course) will also join them for…well, it’s not clear why Harvey’s joining them but it’s a half-retarded man-bunny so I don’t think we’re supposed to ask questions. The trio (along with Wyclef his Iguana) jump onto the “Highway to Hell” and off they go.

Although all Holden wants to do is get back home, his journey takes him through a cast of characters unlike any you’ve ever seen. There are large-breasted cyborgs, serial killer ninjas, Cyclopeses, tiny men in large wheelchairs, and even Death himself (who’s a manic-depressive due to the Wench Everlasting’s relentless abuse). And that’s just the first half of the script. They say that watching the original Wizard Of Oz on acid is the quintessential “perfect trip.” I say Spectre Leaf is the result of C. Ryan and Chad going on this trip one too many times. :)

And yes, I can hear some of the skepticism now. I can hear it seeping out of your cynical brains and into your keyboards and clogging the internet. “It’s too much! It’s too crazy!” I think if I were in your place, I’d probably be saying the same thing. But here’s the difference. These guys know how to write. They’re talented enough and smart enough to make it work. As I mentioned before, I’m not the audience for werewolves and witches and angry dwarves. The writers even said to me themselves that due to my well-documented taste in quirky independent character fare, they figured they had no shot. And yet still, I made this leap of faith and I loved it.

Is it perfect? No. If I were offering feedback to the team (nudge nudge) I’d develop the characters a little more. When I look back at the original Wizard of Oz, Dorothy really isn’t the one who changed. It was everyone else (the tin man, the scarecrow and the lion). But that was the 30s and we approach characters a little differently these days. I feel like all of the main characters should go through some sort of transformation (however slight) and I have to admit, Holden felt a little thin. We know so little about his life beforehand (his wants, his desires, his flaws) that there really isn’t a whole lot to explore once we get to the island. I’d love to see that change.

Also, despite my earlier comment, there are a few places where it is sensory overload. There are so many crazy characters and so much going on that there are sequences that feel like great big blobs of shiny colors. I had to step back and go, “whoa, wait a minute, what’s going on here?” But for the most part, these guys maneuver their way through these moments skillfully – almost as if they’re sensing your concerns – and we’re right back to the story before you know it.

I also sense that the main criticism will be that a script like this will never get made. The budget would be too high. I wouldn’t say that criticism is outrageous, but I’m not so sure you couldn’t market this film as a reimagining (or different take) on The Wizard of Oz and get a decent box office return. You’d need to land a director who could handle the material but stranger things have happened. I actually think if “Alice In Wonderland” does well, it could propel the profile of this script quite a bit. But that’s neither here nor there. I’ll let the people with money answer that question.

My one final question for C. Ryan and Chad is…why no musical number? It seems like a natural nod, and would fit perfectly inside this bizarre world you’ve created.

This script is proof to me that there are talented writers out there who simply haven’t gotten their shot. All they need is a little exposure. Hopefully this review makes it a little easier for them.

First Ten Pages of Spectre Leaf: First Ten Pages (If you’d like to read the full script, contact C. Ryan and Chad at flanagancrk@aol.com).

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

What I learned: Putting your characters on a physical journey (walking, flying, roadtrip) is a great device for a story because the goal of the characters is always clear to us. They’re trying to get to [whatever place they’re trying to get to]. So you don’t have to manipulate the reader and come up with some forced artificial goal that propels them forward. The journey structure does all the work for you.

Poor Sherlock Holmes! By even the most conservative estimates, the movie was a solid success, and yet no one I know has even mentioned it to me. Why? Because it was swallowed up by the Na’vi! Those giant blue creatures stole Guy Ritchie’s thunder, and probably millions of dollars from the film’s coffers. This movie could have been a sensation, blanketing movie blogs with stories about “the return of the most popular movie character of all time.” By that internet real estate was given to James Cameron’s behemoth. Poor Robert Downey Jr. Who knows if his career will ever recover. Anyway, friend of the site and sometimes reviewer Michael Stark is here to give us his take on another Sherlock Holmes project that was bandied about but never made. Let’s give him our full undivided attention, assuming we’re not strapping on our 3-D glasses and watching Avatar for the fifth time.

Genre: Mash-up of gothic horror and action/adventure.
Premise: Holmes vs. Drac. Nuff said, Pilgrim.
About: Christopher Columbus would have directed this unproduced fanboy fave if it wasn’t for that damned Harry Potter. Jude Law was ironically considered as Holmes. Script sold for 700k against 1.1 million. Marc Gordon is the producer on the project. Sony is currently still sitting on the project.
Writer: Michael B Valle
Details: 126 pages (I imagine an early if not first draft)


We are the Sherlock Holmes English Speaking Vernacular Help save Fu Manchu, Moriarty and Dracula
“The Village Green Preservation Society” – The Kinks

Professor Stark once again will take the Wayback Machine down to the lowermost levels of development hell, armed only with a crucifix, a feather duster and his trusted fireplace bellows to brush off an old spec script that deservedly– and with due market diligence — should rise again.

It’s elementary, my dear execs. After the rollicking success of the DowneyRitchie Sherlock Holmes and the non-stop obsession of all things bloodsucking, Sherlock Holmes and The Vengeance of Dracula seems a no-brainer to un-stake and re-slate.

Holmes vs. Drac (my shorthand retitling) is an action adventure based on existing material (in the public-freaking-domain) that has had proven worldwide appeal for over one hundred years. So, why not, in the entrepreneurial spirit of Alien vs. Predator, Freddy vs. Jason and Godzilla vs. Mothra put these two Victorian superstars together in one, big, expensive, creature feature?!! Hell, Columbia, you already own the script.

Holmes vs. Drac was a spec written by novice scribe, Michael Valle, bought by Columbia in 1999 for $700,000 against a cool million with Christopher Columbus eager to direct. Aging fanboys will recall that ChrisCo wrote the Spielberg produced, Young Sherlock Holmes way back in 1985. Cause all spec scripts must be heavily rewritten, Rand Ravich was later hired to change things up a bit. Valle unfortunately passed away in 2001 and the project seemed to slip from ChrisCo’s consciousness as he embarked onto Harry Potterdom. The script is such an industry and fan favorite that Uberfanboy Harry Knowles openly pleaded with ChristCo to turn the beat around on his “favorite unproduced script”. Now, I too join Harry’s battle cry, adding only:

Just don’t turn the damn thing into Van Helsing!

I did indeed dig Holmes vs. Drac. But, heck, it’s my kinda Weird Tale. I’m a genre-mash-up-period-piece fanatic who loves penny dreadfuls, gothic ghost stories, Victorian bodice rippers, rickety steam powered contraptions, the foggiest of moors, extremely haunted castles, clockwork turks, consulting detectives and the whole lot of Universal Movie Monsters as long as they are terrorizing the Village Green or Queen Vic’s London.

Hell, my writing partner and I just finished scribbling one of these period piece mash-ups ourselves. (Will the usually lazy copyeditor, Carson, let that little self-promotional plug remain? Only the Shadow knows.)

Now, intrepid reader, if you don’t like pulp novels, old movies and comic books, this definitely won’t be your cup of tea. You may want to skip ahead to the next romcom or contained thriller soon to be reviewed here. But, for those few intrepid souls still standing – err, seated — let’s enter the inner sanctum and deconstruct this mother.

Now, these two dudes have crossed swords previously on paper in Fred Saberhagen’s “Seance for a Vampire” and Loren D. Estleman’s “Sherlock Holmes vs. Dracula”, proving once again there is very little new under the sun, especially when you’re hijacking famous characters for your plots.

So, how does Valle bring our two literary icons together? Knowledge of the Stoker and Conan Doyle universes is handy but not altogether mandatory to enjoy this ripping yarn. Count Dracula returns to England to exact revenge on Van Helsing, Dr. John Seward and Lord Godalming, who kind-of-almost-sort-of defeated the evil Romanian in the original canon. The stake through the heart wasn’t quite enough to kill the Nosferatu. I hate to say I told you so, but you needed to cut his bloody head off too.


Vengeful Vlad goes after Godalming first, setting up his murder as a convincing suicide. Unbeknownst to the Count, the guy had a perky & pretty Nancy Drew of a cousin, Constance Bracknell, who is suspicious enough to hire the world’s most famous consulting detective to take a closer look. Usually I can’t stand the contrivance of the spirited young lady playing junior detective, but somehow Valle charmingly pulls it off. Maybe cause I really have a crush on this fictional character. Is that wrong? She’s awfully hot.

Meanwhile, Holme’s arch enemy, Professor Moriarty, the Napoleon of Crime, is intrigued by the rusty ship the vampire sailed in on. Thinking he is robbing some priceless artifacts, his men unwittingly disturb the Count’s coffin. The surviving thug’s story of the bat-attack piques the Prof’s interests even more than the silver and gold he thought he was stealing.

So, now it’s a race against time between Holmes and Moriarty to see who finds Dracula first. Holmes vows to stop the monster before he kills again. Moriarty wants to become a vamp himself, making him the ultimate, unstoppable, immortal mastermind criminal.

Now, that’s an awesome premise right there. But, it gets even better. The Professor gets to Dracula first and when the vamp eventually betrays his new best friend, Moriarty must suck it up and team up with Holmes to stop the Count from taking over London (and then the world) with his fiendish Fu Manchu worthy plot.

Moving forward, the ante amazingly keeps getting pushed further up with Holmes becoming a fugitive from the law, Watson getting bit and Constance literally torn between two lovers.

Whew! That’s all the plot I’m gonna spoil, cause you’re gonna read it. Right?

The script definitely lives up to its thrill ride status. Even at a bloated 126 pages, it kept me turning and guessing till the end. The only thing noticeably absent was the mandatory action flick humor. Given, neither Sherlock Holmes nor Dracula were exactly known for cracking wise, but previous screen incarnations would use Watson or Drac’s human lackeys for a little comic relief. Downey’s re-invention gives the detective a healthy dose of sarcasm and narcissism for our amusement. We’ll compare the choices between these two scripts later.

For your mandatory character arc, Valle’s Sherlock must open his mind to the unscientific possibilities of the supernatural (faith vs reason, Jack) and his hermetically sealed heart to Constance, who Dracula, of course, has sized up as a tasty potential lifemate.

Holmes vs. Drac is both a throwback to the atmospheric Universal and Hammer horror flicks and the Spielbergian reinvention of serialized amazing adventure stories. There are some fantastic action sequences (some tailored made for a theme park ride), colorful secondary characters (I especially liked Mollie, the hot, trampy vamp) and enough violence and gore to keep the young kids from texting throughout the whole deal.

There’s even a scene out of The Lost Boys where our two unlikely allies drum up some monster-killing weapons with their limited Victorian-tech. How I love Steampunk, clockwork Victorian tech. Ach, it’s my geeky weakness. Oh, Lord, how I want a mechanical woman with her gear shafts showing.

Eek, have I turned into Roger Balfour???

Okay, it’s quite up my creepy alley, but the script is not without its flaws. I know that I probably read the first draft and that I’ll incur the wrath of Knowles for saying it, but the thing may be a ton of fun, but it still needs some tinkering.

That brings us to our first point of discussion. Does a script have to be perfect to sell? Or to even be brought to market? Can it skate by with just a nifty high concept alone? In today’s incredibly shrinking spec script market, can one still sell by premise alone? Was the bought-for-mega bucks Medieval anywhere near faultless? Faithful Script Shadow readers please make voice in the comment section.

Columbus was supposed to direct. But alas, now he never will…

The biggest bit of trouble with Holmes vs Drac is that there’s a hell of a lot of dialogue. Vast pages and pages and pages of it. Although the speech is authentic to the pulps and penny novels of the time, it clunks on cement by today’s standards. I’m sure the first thing the execs ordered was a STAT dialogue polish. Which brings us to our second topic of discussion for the boards. How do you write a period piece that will both appeal to purists, fanboys, tweens and civilians alike?

We may find the answer by comparing this Holmes to the recent blockbuster. While Valle voices every detail of the detective’s great deductive process ala the early Rathbone films, Ritchie’s writers show it instead of just telling it. Guy’s characters aren’t Thoroughly Modern Millies, but they sidestep some of the more cliched conversational conventions of the genre. Valle’s draft unfortunately is awash with loving lemons like “You foiled my daring plot.” And “Your primitive brain has no conception how precious this treasure is.”

Even for an old movie buff like myself those exchanges made the read a little plodding at times.

So, how do you hold onto the nostalgia and romanticism without getting too quaint and corny? How do you avoid turning this awesome homage into another League of Extraordinary Gentlemen? Somehow those producers wove genius source material into dull straw, managing to destroy our collective memories of Alan Quatermain, Captain Nemo, Mr. Hyde and the Invisible Man in one fell swoop.

On the other side of the slug, how do you avoid making a Van Helsing? Obviously that team had a great love and respect for the pantheon of Universal Monster Movies, but the film didn’t just run off the rails, it didn’t have any rails to begin with. It was a little too much fun!

What’s the proper mix? When does a retro feel suddenly slide into parody? Do you think The Rocketeer pulled it off? The Mummy? Or Sky Captain and The World of Tomorrow? The first Indiana Jones is still the gold standard for this kind of flick, a formula that even Spielberg himself hasn’t always been able to duplicate.

Valle’s script affectionately keeps Conan Doyle’s and Stoker’s characters extremely true to textbook form. But does that form still fly today? These are reboot times where even Spiderman, a film only nine years young, is going through a total retooling. Can the likes of Dracula and Sherlock Holmes dare remain the way they always were? Or must they be transformed into emo teens and bare-knuckled, shirtless brawlers for today’s tastes?

Truth be told, Sherlock Holmes and The Vengeance of Dracula probably could have used a minor face-lift. I’d like to have seen his Holmes a lot less Jeremy Brent and a bit more Robert Downey Jr. And, Dracula needed to be channeling his inner Gary Oldman rather than his legendary, long-winded Lugosi.

If a writer dares to bring an iconic literary figure into their work, I still believe they can bend the rules a bit and make them totally (kinda-sorta) their own creation.

I give this script an impressive. Cause even with the few warts exposed, I think the writer was just a draft or two away from totally nailing it. It being a huge tentpole franchise that would’ve rained money down from heaven. You write the next Pirates of the Caribbean and I’ll be pretty impressed by you too.

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

What I learned: It isn’t always easy borrowing famous characters for your narrative. If you re-imagine them too much, you can have more protestors than The Last Temptation of Christ. Plus, being both in the public domain and the collective consciousness, a few hundred other writers are probably putting Alice in Hoboken and Robin Hood on Mars just like you are.

Also, Holmes vs. Drac confirmed Professor Stark’s Fourth Rule of Screenwriting – always end your movie with a 50-foot tall monster. Hell, nothing less will do.

As many of you know, I love Source Code. I just love it. I think it’s one of best (if not the best) executed Sci-Fi scripts I’ve ever read. I often toy with the idea of placing it number 1 on my Favorites List, and why wouldn’t I? It finished number 1 on the readers faves, getting nearly double the votes of the next highest script. People love this script.

Late last year, Ben Ripley got the news that every writer dreams of, that his spec script, a story he and he alone came up with, was getting a green light, with Jake Gyllenhaal attached to star and Duncan Jones to direct. After finally seeing Moon a couple of weeks ago, I can honestly say this is a dream match-up. If you can suffer through one of my early reviews on the site, I talked about this script roughly a year ago today. It’s more a reaction than a review, but it gives you a sense of why I was so impressed with it. Well, a year later and I finally got to chat with the writer himself. Ben Ripley is repped by Bayard Maybank at Hohman Maybank Lieb, and managed by Michael Lasker at Mosaic.

Gyllenhaal will be starring in Source Code.

SS: Can you tell us how you got into writing, and bring us up to speed on your career before you sold Source Code?

BR: Like a lot of people, I had, from an early age, a love for movies and a curiosity to know how they were made. As I went through school, I noticed writing came somewhat easily to me, so a screenwriting career eventually made sense as a way to pursuing filmmaking while building on that strength. I was an English major in college and then received my formal training in the graduate screening program at USC film school. While film school is not a prerequisite for working in Hollywood, it does break down all the major components of the process and allow hands on practice of each discipline – editing, production, acting and writing. You also learn how to roll coaxial cable into perfect coils.

Even with an advanced degree, there is still no set path for getting into the industry. You have to fend for yourself and search for any way in you can find. I worked as an assistant at a production company and at a post production house, in addition to a few years outside of the industry as a grant writer for a non-profit foundation. There were plenty of opportunities to give up on screenwriting, to try something else, but I kept writing scripts, and those scripts eventually found their way into hands of a literary agency who offered to represent me. It still took four more years, and perhaps five or six additional scripts, before the first one sold to Fox. It was a horror film, it never got made, but it got me in and got me assignment work for the next several years. During that time I had three direct-to-DVD movies made. That kind of work is completely off the cultural radar, but it did teach me a lot about how to write for production.

SS: How did the sale for Source Code come about? How did the script becoming a go picture come about?

BR: Mark Gordon, the producer, became involved with the project while I was writing it on spec. At the time we went out with it, Topher Grace was attached to play the lead role, and I think an actor attachment always helps create buzz. Topher and Mark personally spoke with all the studios to lay the groundwork, and a few days after it went out we had more than one offer and interest just kept building. As a writer, it was one of those fairy tale moments – but also nerve wracking. In the end, Mark felt most comfortable with the script going to Universal. Incidentally, the Universal VP who brought the project into the studio was Scott Bernstein, with whom I had actually discussed the idea for Source Code a year before. So Scott was already familiar with the story and enthusiastic about it.

Source Code always had momentum. The studio went immediately to directors. There was zero development hell. What that taught me, at least in terms of spec scripts, is that the stronger you make it when it sells, the less creative interference will come afterwards. The script started to become a go movie after Billy Ray did a few weeks of targeted work bringing out a few more aspects of my script. Off that we got the attachments of Duncan Jones to direct and Jake Gyllenhaal to star. The final piece was Mark Gordon moving the project over to a new financing company called Vendome, which was passionate about making Source Code its first movie, with Summit distributing.

3) Why did you write Source Code? Did you write it because it was a great idea you had? Did you write it because you thought its specific elements gave it the best chance to sell? How did this script come to be?

BR: I wrote Source Code because I was discouraged with the work I was then getting. In the four years between the sale of my first spec and that of Source Code, I was mostly doing rewrites on other people’s horror scripts. I’d put a lot of effort into them, I’d get paid, and then the scripts would just sit there. I felt I had more to say creatively, and the great thing about being a writer in Hollywood, the source of our power, is the ability to generate new material.

Source Code was an immensely difficult script for me to write. All I had at the beginning was the impulse to tell a non-linear story with a structure like Groundhog Day, where you experienced the same event repeatedly. I asked myself if there was a science fiction conceit that would be the occasion for the narrative, and before long I had the setting on the train and the idea that source code would be used as a tool in a terrorism procedural.

From that point to the finished script was still many, many drafts and a lot of trial and error. Three people were instrumental in helping me shape it: Michael Lasker, my manager, and two guys at the Mark Gordon Company, Lawrence Inglee and Jordan Wynn. All of them believed in the potential of the film and were excited enough to roll up their sleeves and work with me to figure it out. They pushed me pretty hard to elevate the material, to think of it more as a character mystery than a conventional thriller, to subtract out much of the science and leave the mysteries intact. Without that kind of dynamic back and forth with collaborators who saw what it could be and kept at me until it was on the page, Source Code could not have been written. And by the way, as a writer, you want to partner with people who are as excited as you are – people who like movies, enjoy the creative process and see possibilities more than they see problems.

SS: What was the most important element (or elements) you focused on getting right in the script (character, theme, plot, etc.)? And how did you go about achieving it (them)?

BR: Everything was important. The narrative had to flow. The main character’s dilemma – moving from confusion to a slow awakening to just how awful his situation really was – had to be the reader’s experience as well. The technology had to feel mysterious. It had to end correctly. But the most important thing, I think, was ultimately the structure. I was in the third or fourth draft when I realized that this story only needed to have two settings – the train and the isolation chamber. And if you started the guy on the train, in some degree of confusion, and you slammed him back and forth between the two worlds, that was the movie. That binary structure was key: it simplified the noise, kept the narrative moving, gave the reader the identical experience as the main character’s and differentiated the script from the other stuff out there. Its very simplicity became its high concept. None of that was planned from the beginning – none of it was outlined. It all had to come during the process of discovery in the writing.

SS: Did you know Source Code was going to click with people? Were you sitting there going, “This one feels good,” as you were writing it? Or was it a total surprise?

BR: Six months before we went out with it, the Mark Gordon people knew it was going to sell. I was way too skittish to go around saying or believing that myself, but we all had a feeling the script could be something special. I should also point out that we didn’t stop with a draft that would sell. No one aspires anymore to just a development deal. We kept pushing to until I had a draft that would be made. There’s a difference, and with a spec script, you have the luxury of incubating it until it’s as strong as you think you can make it. Although I’ve written several scripts since Source Code that, to me, felt pretty strong, Source Code remains the most popular with people.

SS: Can you tell us a little bit about your writing process? Do you outline? Do you write fast? How many drafts do you write? Etc.

BR: Being a parent, my hours are more regimented than they used to be. I don’t write during the evenings or on weekends – I’m busy living my life then. I’ve always found that time away from material is just as valuable as time spent on material – it helps you maintain freshness and perspective. With the ease of communication and the ubiquity of laptops and email, there’s often an assumption that we’re always working, always available. But this kind of over exposure can lead to belabored and insular decision-making. Writing is part of my life, but only part.

Once I have an idea that I think works, my first step is to take pages and pages of notes, whatever comes into my head. Research is important. You need to steep yourself in whatever subculture you’re writing about, enough so that you develop a confidence to invent within it. Next I try to come up with some compelling central characters. This is always the hardest part for me to get right, but it’s a critical one. If your characters aren’t distinct, comprehensible and somewhat relatable, you’ll never hear the end of it from your readers. And it’s really about the hard work of understanding who these characters are and what makes them interesting. I’m not much attracted to Everyman characters. I’m more intrigued with mysterious, unusual or even extraordinary characters. If you look at Stanley Kubrick’s films, most of his characters are compelling for who they are. They’re not ordinary people who depend on a movie situation to come alive in. The outline comes next, but I don’t get overly detailed with it. I like to leave some open spaces for discovery. Only when you get in there writing scenes, writing description and dialogue, will the best things about your script occur to you. That said, I absolutely know what my three acts and midpoint are, even if they sometimes shift around during the writing. The more I write, the fewer pages per day I turn out. I wish I wrote faster, but I tend to consider pretty carefully each moment. I take my time with the language until it feels right. I never gloss over stuff. After that, I always go back and find material to remove. You can always say things with greater efficiency, always trim and tighten action. You look at any good film and you realize just how economical and propulsive the scenes are, especially in the first act as they work to set up the world. You can never get too good at that skill.

SS: It sounds like the midpoint is important to you. Could you explain what it is?

BR: A midpoint is a plot turn that happens in the middle of a movie. The midpoint in Jaws is when Roy Scheider, Robert Shaw and Richard Dreyfuss pile into the fishing boat and head out to the open ocean to hunt the shark. The midpoint of the original Star Wars is when the Millenium Falcon reaches the Death Star in order to rescue the princess. It’s the point to which the action of the first half of the story is ending and, as a result, sends the second half of the story in a new – or at least more focused – direction. A good midpoint turn will differentiate the action between the first and second half of the movie and keep things from seeming monotonous. The post-midpoint portion of the second act (pages 60-90) is often where you get much closer to the story’s real themes and you’re not as much focused on straightforward action.

SS: A lot of people write sci-fi, but I find it’s one of the easiest genres to screw up. Can you tell us what you think the key is to writing a good sci-fi script?

BR: Put character first. Don’t let the technology take over the story. Center your narrative on an emotional experience and let the science part of it be the ambience. None of the characters in your script should be aware that they’re in a science fiction film. It should be all utterly real to them.

SS: What is the biggest adjustment for a writer once they sell a script? What advice would you give a writer who just sold his first screenplay?

BR: The lifestyle of a full time writer is obviously different from a writer needing a day job to support him or herself. Once you make that first sale, a lot of producers and executives will want to meet you. You’re no longer creating in isolation – you’re part of the Hollywood community. You’re the flavor of the month. People will want to sit down with you and hear your ideas on new projects. Potential work will start coming your way. You need to be comfortable considering and developing multiple story ideas, with multiple partners, and try to push forward on them in order to book that next job. That means getting comfortable pitching in conference rooms, being proactive, coming up with new material and realizing that most of what you work on will not succeed. But that’s just the churn that everyone works in.

SS: What are some surprising things you’ve learned from your manager or agent about screenwriting that you would’ve never been privy to otherwise?

BR: I’ve learned tons from my representatives – way too much to relate here. At least once a year I make a point of sitting down with my agent over lunch. I ask questions and we assess my progress. The key is finding an agent who wants to invest their time in you, who believes in you and who’s interested in cultivating you for a 30 year career.

SS: It’s a question I ask a lot, but I think it’s a pertinent one. If you could go back in time and give the young wet-behind-the-ears Ben Ripley advice on the fastest way to finding success as a screenwriter, what would you tell him?

BR: I would tell him to keep faith, that it’s all going to be okay. I would tell him that the reason I’m a screenwriter today is that I believed in my talent and made the sustained sacrifices to become one. I eschewed other career paths. I worked day jobs to support myself. I wrote on weekends when maybe I would have had more fun at the beach. I started and finished scripts and then started new ones that were better. I kept at it. There are no shortcuts. The dues-paying process can be bewildering and lonely, but its job is to separate out the professionals from the merely curious, and when it’s over, you’re oddly thankful for having asked a lot of yourself.

SS: Whenever I ask professional writers, “How do you get an agent?” they always say, “Write a great script.” But let’s suppose, for the sake of argument, that you only have a decent script, and your (Ben Ripley’s) life depended on getting an agent within the next month. What would you do? What would you do?

BR: I remember how that felt. I remember being so impatient for my difficult, outsiders life to stop and for my “real” life as a working writer to start. It’s easy for professional writers to be benignly nostalgic about their early days coming up, forgetting that those days often felt tedious, frustrating and unsustainable. But your life shouldn’t depend on getting an agent within the next month. If it does, there’s something wrong. You should never let your life get to the point where you look at screenwriting as a lottery ticket that’s going to save you. What saves you is your belief in yourself and your commitment to getting better at your craft, regardless of when that craft is rewarded. And a decent script probably won’t get you an agent. If you’re still at the point where you’re writing “decent” scripts – as opposed to great scripts – you’re not ready for an agent. But the magic of Hollywood is that the appetite for great scripts far exceeds the supply of great scripts. So when and if you finally write that great script, word will get out. People will ask you to read it, not the other way around. Stay optimistic. Stay focused. Write well and the agents – and the success – will come.

SS: Although getting writers to answer this question specifically is almost impossible, can you tell us what you’re working on next? And if you can’t tell us, can you tell us your dream sci-fi adaptation (whether it be book, video game, comic, whatever)?

BR: I haven’t settled on the next thing yet. I don’t have a dream sci-fi adaptation. I’d love to write a submarine movie. I love historical stuff. I’d love to find a dormant Hollywood genre and reinvent it, as Gladiator did with the sword and sandals genre.

Here’s Roger with his review of Ender’s Game. Don’t forget to tune in tomorrow for an interview with a writer that reignited my love of Sci-Fi and reminded me that the simplest of Sci-Fi concepts can be the best. :)

Genre: Science Fiction, Action, Coming of Age
Premise: Aliens have attacked Earth and have almost destroyed the human species. To make sure humans win the next encounter, the world government has started breeding military geniuses and trains them in the arts of war. The early training takes the form of games, and Ender Wiggin is a genius among geniuses who wins all the games. But is he smart enough to save the planet?

About: Ender’s Game started out as a novelette by Orson Scott Card in the August 1977 issue of Analog Science Fiction and Fact. When it was expanded into a novel, it won both the Hugo and Nebula Awards for Best Novel. In May 2003, Card released his latest version of the screenplay to Warner Brothers. D.B. Weiss (and later, David Benioff), working closely with director Wolfgang Petersen, wrote a new script. Petersen eventually departed and Card announced in February 2009 that he had completed a new script for Odd Lot Entertainment.

Writers: D.B. Weiss (author of the videogame-themed novel,
Lucky Wander Boy and one of the scribes for the screen adaptation of Bungie’s Halo and George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire Series for HBO) based upon the novels Ender’s Game and Ender’s Shadow by Orson Scott Card. Also based upon the screenplays by Orson Scott Card, and Michael Dougherty & Dan Harris (X2, Superman Returns).
Details: Draft is dated 7/7/05


Before there was Harry Potter and Quidditch, there was Ender’s Game and Battle School. Sure, when it comes to narrative voice, Miss Rowling is heavily influenced by Roald Dahl, but when it comes to plot elements, it’s hard not to draw comparison between Hogwarts and its various houses (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, et al.) and Battle School and its various armies (Salamander, Dragon, etc.).

I’ve never read Ender’s Game, Rog. What the hell is Battle School?

It’s a space station where children are trained in the art of war.
You see, humanity is almost wiped out when a race of aliens with insectoid physiognomy called Formics (from the Latin formica, which means ant) invade Earth. Due to the heroics of a backwater half-Maori commander, one Mazer Rackham, the Earth survives the invasion and the Formics retreat.
To prepare for future confrontations, a shaky international military unit is formed, called the International Fleet (IF).
Many children around the world dream of passing the battery of tests the IF conducts so they can leave Earth and train at Battle School.
It’s at Battle School where students, some as young as six-years old, are organized into armies and participate in simulated micro gravity battles. The children learn everything from historical battle formations to space combat tactics. Needless to say, the teachers and adults at the school encourage the students to be competitive, cultivating their bloodlust and violent nature.
Picture a combination of the Danger Room from the X-Men comics, a Quidditch Arena from Harry Potter, but set in a ginormous zero-g spherical arena.
Who’s this Ender kid?
In the script, we meet Ender Wiggin when he is eleven years old as he undergoes his IF testing. Colonel Graff administers this particular round, “Shapes appear on your end, you arrange them to match the larger shape on my end. It’s a test of your facility with spacial relationships.” Ender dons a pair of haptic feedback gloves and puts together each puzzle with dizzying speed. Graff manages to remain stoic at Ender’s ease with the test, and sends the boy on his way.
Disappointed, Ender walks home and is bullied by his older brother Peter. Peter is a nasty piece of work. Brutal and aggressive, his only goal in life is to attend Battle School, and he loathes his empathetic and weak younger brother, constantly picking on him, infuriated that he can never get Ender to lash out at him in violence. At Ender’s house, we meet his sister, the ginger Valentine Wiggin, another empath who shares a close relationship with her younger brother.
In the novel, it should be noted that Peter is jealous of this relationship. In this iteration of the story, there is no character development that suggests such envy. The very Greek psychological subtext is, for the most part, non-existent.
It’s here where we cut over to the ruins of Westminster, where we meet an eleven-year old urchin named Julian “Bean” Delphiki. Bean is even smaller than Ender, and he hacks an automated ration teller to gain a bounty of chocolate bars. Unfortunately, he’s attacked by a gang of bullies led by Achilles (a nice touch, as Achilles de Flanders is the primary antagonist in the Bean Quartet, the parallel novels told from Bean’s perspective). Bean is tasered and left at the scene of the crime, where he is collected by the police and deposited at a hospital. At the hospital, a social worker named Sister Carlotta is intrigued that such a young boy, who has never been to school, has the proficiency to hack machines.
And just like that, Bean takes the IF tests and is on his way to Battle School.
Quick digression: Now, all this is material out of the parallel novel, Ender’s Shadow.
Sometimes I think Bean’s story is more affecting, more sentimental, because Bean is an orphan. There’s an Oliver Twist-like Dickensian sadness to his perspective that’s hard not to emphasize with. An urchin who protects Ender, carrying a burden and existing as a hero unsung whose courage breaks my heart. I’m glad to see that he’s utilized as a major character in this draft. It’s a smart choice. Sadly, there’s no later confrontation with Achilles at Battle School, which in the novels, serves as a nice point of character contrast between Ender and Bean when it comes to conflict resolution. One would think that’s the type of stuff worth exploring (if one is going to turn to Ender’s Shadow for scene material).
Back in America, Mazer Rackham arrives at the Wiggin household to inform Ender and his shocked family, that indeed, he is going to Battle School. As a matter of fact, Ender “scored higher on the Battle School cognition battery than any applicant we ever tested”.
Soon after, Ender is on a shuttle with Bean and the other kids who have been accepted to Battle School. Mazer informs them, “You all think you’re brilliant already. You’re wrong. Less than half of you will advance to the Tactical Academy, and one in ten of those will move on to Central Command. I hope against hope that one of you will be strong enough, smart enough, good enough to be of some real use.
“But honestly, in my opinion, the only one of you worth the fuel it takes to lift you into orbit is Ender Wiggin.”
Does Ender being singled out as top talent jeopardize his life at Battle School?
Yep.
Every new “launchie” is required to go to Battle Room training before they can be assigned to an army.
But not Ender.
Ender is told that he’s been assigned to Salamander Army. This incites the ire of Commander Madrid, the fifteen-year old leader of Salamander, who sees Ender as a liability whose presence will ruin his team’s undefeated winning streak.
Much of the 2nd Act is spent in the Battle Room.
Have the rules of the games been changed from the novel?
Oddly, yes.
The students are still attired in hydraulics-reinforced flash suits, helmets and propulsion packs (to control their movement).
But in the script, it reads less like zero-g war games and more like a game of Quidditch.
The goal still consists of getting a player through the other team’s gate, but that’s it. This player needs no support from his teammates. In the novel, the goal was to destroy or “freeze” all of the opposing players. Then four teammates were required to touch the enemy gate with their helmets while the fifth player passed through it.
During these games, Madrid forces Ender to affix himself to a floating obstacle and basically hide as the rest of his team fights. He’s not to get in the way at all.
Sucky. Does Ender eventually get his chance to shine?
At first, Ender pleads with Mazer to be demoted out of the Salamander Army, but Mazer refuses.
But hope comes in the form of the comicbook-reading Salamander star player, Petra Arkanian. Petra empathizes with Ender and his sink-or-swim plight.
She takes him under her wing, showing him how to work his suit and maneuver in a zero-g environment. She also teaches him how to handle his firepower and control his shooting.
Everyone questions Ender’s talent, until Petra takes him to the Game Room (for recreation) and he discovers a cluster of 2D Real-Time Strategy Games that most of the kids ignore. I imagined something akin to a holographic StarCraft. Entranced, Ender studies the RTS game and is eventually approached by an older cadet, who shows him the rules and challenges him to a game.
This is where it gets interesting.
Petra returns to find Ender, playing ten games at once, against ten other cadets. “He ranges back and forth along the lines, barely taking time to look at each screen before slapping the Command button and barking out commands with Eminem rapidity.” A huge crowd forms as Ender defeats all ten cadets, establishing his presence as a tactical wargame phenom.
How does Ender’s genius translate to the Battle Room?
Ender begins practicing with a ragtag group of launchies to not only perfect his movement and shooting, but to develop strategies that are much different from what most of the other armies are using. He teaches the other kids, “Even the best armies are thinking about the Battle Room the wrong way. Platoons, lines, columns, phalanxes –- they’re all battlefield tactics.”
Ender develops guerilla-style zero-g tactics, and it’s not long before Rackham puts Ender in command of a new army: The Dragon Army. Ender and his group of young launchies showcase their new style of play and become the new team that racks up an undefeated record, eventually catching up to Madrid and his crew.
The games eventually culminate into a huge battle where Ender and his crew are forced to fight against two armies at once. Of course, using some innovative thinking, Ender leads his team to victory.
This really pisses off Madrid, and soon Ender is forced to finally, truly fight for his life when he’s thrown into the Battle Room without his suit as Madrid and his henchman try to kill him. This is a sanitized version of what actually happens in the book, and I think it falls short.
Not a good thing, as this is a major turning point in the novel and it’s one of those character-changing and character-defining moments that defines the theme of the story.
OK. So what about this war with the Formics?
Ender survives his ordeal with Madrid and graduates to Command School. Mazer takes him to one of the moons of Jupiter, to the ruins of the command center the Formics used for their invasion against Earth. It is inside the moon where we find the Ansible, a giant blue sphere covered in intricate geometric designs, “It’s how they communicated with their home world –- faster than light. We don’t know how it works, but we figured out how to use it.”
By using the Ansible, they can instantaneously control their entire fleet with no lag. The Ansible is one of those classic science fiction tropes, like Unobtainium in Avatar, that readers of the genre will recognize. Coined by Ursula K. Le Guin, it’s derived from the word “answerable”, meaning it’s a device that will let its users receive answers quickly across interstellar distances.
Ender is taken to the Command Simulator, where he is told that actual Admirals train. Coincidentally, it operates in almost exactly the same way as the Game Room’s RTS game (You know, the one he was so good at).
The only fishy detail is that the fleet’s ships appear to be models that are thirty years old. Ender is suspicious and confronts Mazer about this detail. He is told, “The prototype craft are great public morale boosters for the air and space shows. This is what we’ve really got. Learn how to use it.”
So all of this is just a simulation, right?
Well, that’s what Mazer tells Ender. That it’s a training sim, a game to prepare the boy for the real deal.
Upon his first match, Ender thinks he’s playing against AI. Remember, this is his first time playing this game. He’s still learning. But he seems to be doing well. He’s victorious upon his first try.
And apparently, he wasn’t playing against AI.
We learn that he just defeated another of Mazer’s star pupils, Andrei Karpov. And not only that, he also defeated all four of Karpov’s subcommanders. At the same time.
Who the hell is Karpov?
Good question. He’s not in the novel. As far as I can tell, he’s just a plot device to make an allusion to the competitive chess world, and his existence tells us that Ender is like a chess prodigy.
The final thirty or so pages are Ender and his subcommanders engaged in their final exam on the simulator.
Ender thinks he’s playing against Mazer.
He’s not.
What? So who’s he really playing against it?
Formics.
Ender is controlling the fleet that’s, in actuality, an attack on the Formic home world. He doesn’t know he’s killing a race of sentient creatures.
To the audience’s horror, we gain this knowledge when Bean gains it. As Bean hides this newfound knowledge from Ender, we share his guilt and culpability as Ender sacrifices human beings like pawns to try and best Mazer.
But we know it’s not Mazer, it’s the Formic Queen.
And to add to the horror, the Formics are ultimately presented as a peace-loving race who travelled to Earth out of curiosity.
Understand: They never shot first. We did.
Damn. That’s rough. So, does this screenplay do justice to the novel and its fans?
D.B. Weiss’ draft is a fascinating read, but I don’t think it’s the movie fans are waiting for.
I’m not holding anyone at fault here, far for from it. Correct me if I’m wrong, but even Orson Scott Card himself hasn’t written a draft he seems to be pleased with, and I think he’s written like fifteen or so.
I also don’t think he’s ever been satisfied with any of the drafts attempted by other screenwriters, as the closest anyone has come to translating the novel to a visual medium is comic-book scribe, Chris Yost, who has done a bang-up job with the Ender’s Game: Battle School mini-series for Marvel Comics (Yost’s approach is to pretend he’s writing for the HBO mini-series, and he tries to include everything from the novel.)
There are four elements that make this particular from-book-to-screen adaptation a true screenwriter’s challenge:
(1) Ender’s Game is a bildungsroman with a protagonist who is a child of few words. Much of the novel is Ender’s internal narration. And since Ender’s mind is that of a brilliant tactician who is trying to understand not only his emotions, but the complicated world around him, it’s simply hard to take that internal monologue and give it a visual treatment. Might be good to take a nod from Ron Howard’s A Beautiful Mind or Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes and create visual sequences that exploit what Ender sees when he thinks. Merely an idea. And maybe a bad one at that…
(2) Ender’s Game requires a large child cast. When Ender is recruited by the IF, he is six years old. When the novel ends, Ender has exterminated an entire race of creatures. He is twelve. I think it’s a bad idea to skew the characters towards older teenagers, as it destroys the innocence lost aspect of the story that it is known for. Already, many fans of Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson series are upset that the characters in the movie version are older than they are in the books. I can understand why Hollywood would want older actors. It’s a difficult thing, finding talented child actors, but for Ender’s Game, it is essential.
(3) Ender’s Game has child-on-child violence. Nowhere near the gory exploitation of Kinji Fukasaku’s Battle Royale, but there’s ugly stuff (cruelty) in it that’s not going to settle easily into the consciousness of a mass audience. But it’s also the type of stuff that gives other coming-of-age novels like William Golding’s Lord of the Flies and John Knowles’ A Separate Peace raw emotional power. It’s the type of stuff that sings of nostalgia and loss. In the book, Ender fights Madrid in a shower, ultimately sending him back to Earth in a body bag.
(4) Ender’s Game has a purity and perfection to it that’s only going to be muddled with multiple cooks in the kitchen. The egos of multiple filmmakers, from producers to screenwriters to directors, are going to do nothing but scathe a narrative that already works. Sure, find a way to translate Ender’s narrative visually, but when you sanitize the story and try to change it, you’re already making the adaptation more difficult than it has to be. In this sense, Ender’s Game is a novel that may never be turned into a movie fans will be satisfied with.
It’s been a while since I read the novel (I was probably around 12 or 13), but one thing that stuck with me all these years was the sense of bonecrushing fatigue Ender experiences as he takes his “final exam”. It’s a novel that really beats you up, and you feel a loss when you close its pages.
Those feelings, those emotions, are absent from this script.
That’s how you know it’s not the same.

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

What I learned: This script really made me think about theme and character development.
There was some dissonance concerning Ender’s character development. Something felt missing, something felt off. I thought about the novel. Sure, it’s about innocence lost, but Ender’s characterization in the novel was concrete. He was a kid who had to learn how to take care of himself, even if it meant hurting another human being in self-defense. The message wasn’t so much that violence is sometimes necessary (if we learn from Bean and Achilles, we know that there are other solutions besides violence), but that Ender had to make a stand and confront aggressors.
But…in the script, it’s almost the opposite. The lesson that he must learn to take care of himself is buried under the message that, perhaps, yes, violence is the answer. Is that really the theme? And I think this muddling of theme can be traced to Ender’s character development. His set-up. Like we’re not being presented with the correct scenes to establish Ender’s presence as an empath. There’s a lot of talk about how unaggressive and empathetic he is. Almost too much talk that tends to work against the showing.
So I guess I learned that showing is always better than telling, and that theme is best expressed through clear character development. And how do you achieve that clarity? Through structure and scenes that show rather than tell.


When I put together this whole Logline/Screenplay Contest idea, I knew it was going to be a learning experience. Choosing 100 loglines from a field of 1000 seemed like a logical move after my previous contest. In that contest, 6 out of every 10 scripts I read contained subject matter that I had little interest in. I gave every one of them an equal shot, but as any reader knows, if you’re not interested in an idea, the script is much harder to read. I figured if I could pick 100 loglines that I knew I might like, that a key weakness in the contest structure would be eliminated. Although I’d probably take this same approach again, I’d also listen to what some of the savvier readers suggested, which is to give more weight to the “professional” loglines. People who understood how to craft a “proper” logline were usually better writers (not always – but usually). Not because crafting a “professional” logline has any bearing on writing a screenplay. It just means that that writer has probably been at it longer, and was therefore more experienced.

After that stage, the top 100 logliners sent me their first 10 pages (or a one page synopsis). For the most part, this worked, although I was disappointed with just how many writers had a really good first 10 pages, and then couldn’t back them up. And I think this might be due to the biggest flaw of my contest. People were using the contest to force themselves to write their script. As a result, many of the scripts in the Top 25 felt rushed. I suppose writers rush any script they’re trying to finish for a deadline, but because of the specific structure I used – giving writers only a month between the announcement of the 10-Page winners and when they had to get their full script in – my entries were more rushed than usual. I’d like to figure out a way to fix this for future contests. It may be as simple as lengthening the contest. Though a six month contest is a hell of a long time to wait.

As for the ten page test itself, for the most part, it works. While writing a good first ten pages doesn’t guarantee that the rest of a script will be good (a lot of these scripts dive-bombed in the second act), if your first 10 pages are bad, it’s almost a guarantee that the rest of the script will also be. The only exception is slow-moving understated character pieces, which take awhile to get going. But those are few and far between.

Another thing I learned is that comedy loglines are the hardest to gauge. Although there were a few funny ones, by and large, a funny comedy logline did not translate into a funny script. Also, I’ve noticed that, in general, comedy writers seem to care less about character development than other writers. They believe if they can string a bunch of funny scenes together, that they’ve done their job. Since the second act is pretty much all about the characters, this is where a lot of comedies went to die.

In the end, I was able to find one “impressive” script, which I’m a little disappointed about, because I was hoping to find at least three. Every other script had things I thought could’ve been improved. But all three of the top scripts were good reads for their own reasons. Without further ado, let’s get to it. As announced at the beginning, all three winners will receive 3 pages of free notes from yours truly (E-mail me if you’re interested in rates). And the number 1 script will be reviewed this Friday. If demand is high enough, I’ll also review the second and third place scripts next week.

3RD PLACE

VOLATILE (Thriller) by William C. Martell (Los Angeles) – Eddy lost everything: his job, his house, his wife. Spends his final unemployment check drinking, wakes up with fresh stitches. Stolen kidney? Implanted bomb. Anonymous caller gives him six one hour tasks: Steal a car, steal a suit, steal a gun… assassinate executives from the company that fired him!
E-mail: wcmartell@scriptsecrets.net

THOUGHTS: The thing I liked most about Volatile was just how focused it was. Watching so many screenplays lose sight of what they were about was disconcerting. You always knew what the protagonist in Volatile’s motivation was. You always knew what the stakes were. It makes for an exciting ride.

2nd PLACE

KILLER PARTIES (Comedy) by Ben Bolea and Joe Hardesty (Los Angeles) – In the frozen Alaskan tundra, where the sun rarely rises, four best friends struggle against the most terrifying experience of their young lives…graduation.
E-mail: BenBolea@gmail.com

THOUGHTS: Killer Parties almost won the competition. While it wasn’t the best script of the competition, it’s probably the one I enjoyed the most. I love how a high school comedy is set in a place completely unfamiliar to high school comedies – Alaska. Also, this is the most authentic feeling high school script I’ve read in a long time. I think with a couple of rewrites and some guidance from the kind of manager who likes and understands the material, this could end up becoming a classic film about high school.

1ST PLACE!!!

OH NEVER, SPECTRE LEAF (Comedy) – By C. Ryan Kirkpatrick and Chad Musick – After a freak plane crash, an awkward teenage boy must enlist the help of a sexually frustrated dwarf, a smokin’ hot cyborg, and an idiot in a bunny suit to defeat the Nocturnal Wench Everlasting and restore sunlight to the bizarre land of Spectre Leaf.
E-mail: flanagancrk@aol.com

THOUGHTS: It’s rare I read a script where I’m just blown away by the writer’s talent. Kirkpatrick and Musick’s are those kinds of writers. Their writing was by far the best in the competition. It reminded me a lot of when I first read Fiasco Heights. These fucking guys took a totally out there bizarre concept and did what so many writers fail to do, they made it work. From cover to cover, these two knocked it out of the park. Can’t wait to tell you all about it. Tune in on Friday for the review!

SPECIAL MENTIONS…

JUST MISSED

LOUISIANA BLOOD (thriller) by Mike Donald (Oxfordshire, UK) – When five victims of JACK THE RIPPER turn up in a swamp more than a century after their deaths, thousands of miles from the crime scene, an English Detective and a Louisiana Sheriff form an unlikely duo to unravel the ultimate conspiracy and reveal the Rippers true identity.
E-mail: touchwoodpicturesltd@hotmail.com

THOUGHTS: I was juggling between Louisiana Blood and Volatile for the Number 3 slot. The twists and turns in this script were a lot of fun, and it’s just a great premise. The only problem was that it was a little slow. If a producer or manager were to work with Mike on this, up the stakes, inject a little adrenaline, this script could sell.

COMEDY THAT WAS ALMOST THERE

FRANK VS. GOD (comedy) by Stewart Schill – When his home is destroyed by a tornado, and the Insurance Company informs him that the claim falls under the ‘Act of God’ exclusion in his policy, David Frank decides to sue God himself for damages, beginning a hilarious and soulful odyssey to a surprising final judgment.
E-mail: stewartschill@att.net

THOUGHTS: Schill came close. Frank Vs. God is a fun well-written screenplay, but I feel like he misjudges the tone in places, going too dramatic in some spots, and too broad in others. Still, I like high-concept comedies and this is one that almost got it right. Even though it didn’t win, I enjoyed it.

BEST FIRST TEN PAGES

HYPOXIA (thriller) by Daniel Silk – A woman under Witness Protection awakens on a 747 to discover the pilots and passengers unconscious, the plane depressurized and masked men hunting her. With oxygen and fuel rapidly depleting, she must grapple with surrendering herself to save the 242 people on board.
E-mail: danielsilk85@gmail.com

THOUGHTS: The fight for the Best First Ten Pages wasn’t even close. Hypoxia had me on the edge of my couch with my jaw on the floor for its first ten. Just a great action sequence. The script was a little uneven in places, which is why it didn’t place higher, but if I need an action-centered rewrite, I’m calling Daniel.

WRITERS I’D MOST LIKE TO DEVELOP IF I WERE A MANAGER

Donnie and Clint Clark for their script – Roanoke Jamestown: American Patriot (comedy) – The untold story of one of America’s founding fathers, Roanoke Jamestown, and how he got deleted from history.
E-mail: dclark0699@gmail.com

THOUGHTS: I don’t think these guys are there yet. But I think they will be. I’d actually read another script of theirs under different circumstances, and they have this unique offbeat humor that you can’t teach. I never quite know what to expect when I’m reading a Clark script, and they didn’t disappointment me here. Their intricate knowledge of our nation’s history is a little freaky. Though that may have something to do with the fact that they’re both teachers.

FINAL THOUGHTS
If I were giving advice to any screenwriters thinking about entering contests, I’d say, don’t rush your script. If you’re rushing to *polish* the script, that’s one thing. But if you’re rushing to get a first draft done in time, I can guarantee you it’s not going to do well. They’re just so easy to spot. Also, while I was happy to make this contest free, I feel like a lot of writers used that as an excuse to throw anything at the wall to see what stuck. With nothing lost by entering, maybe I didn’t get the best of what writers had to offer. I’ll probably change that next time. Overall, this was a fun experience. It was long, it was hard, and there were a few streaks where I ran into some…shall we say…difficult to read material. But I want to thank all of you for making this happen. Without your appreciation for the site, nobody would be interested in finding out who won this contest. So thank you all. Let’s do it again soon. :)