Genre: True Story/Biopic
Premise: The true life story of a man with multiple personality disorder who pleaded insanity in three rape cases back in the 1970s.
About: Titanic director James’ Cameron’s treatment of the true life story of Billy Milligan. Supposedly, when this looked like it was going to be a go movie, Milligan claims to have taught Johnny Depp, Leonardo DiCaprio, John Cusack, and Christian Slater how to accurately portray someone with multiple personality disorder. One wonders if he was speaking with the real actors, or if they had also become characters in his head.
Writer: James Cameron
Status: Dead
Details: 139 freaking pages.

Taking a break from The Black List today to give a little love to James Cameron. Tomorrow marks his first feature directorial effort in over ten years. And hence, we shall take a look at an old unproduced script of his, “Crowded Room.”

I can’t tell you how excited I was when I watched The Hollywood Reporter’s meeting of directors series that had Katheryn Bigelow, Quentin Tarantino, Jason Reitman, Peter Jackson, James Cameron, and Lee Daniels. Watching four of the directors I respect most chit chat as if they were hanging out at the local gym was better than 90% of the movies I saw this year. But the biggest gift was James Cameron’s response when asked how long he plans to direct for. I’d always assumed, since Cameron went AWOL after Titanic, that maybe he wasn’t all that into directing. Well it turns out I was wrong. Cameron divulged that the whole reason he went off the “deep end” (so to speak) was because he knew he wouldn’t be able to endure all that underwater stuff when he was older. Since he knew he could direct until he was 80, he decided to save that aspect of his career for later. He actually says that he’ll probably die on set! Hooray! Since, in my opinion, Cameron is the greatest big-budget director in the world (with no one else even close), this is about the happiest news I’ve come across in awhile.

So getting back on track here, in celebration of the release of Avatar, I thought it would be nice to take a look at one of Cameron’s older scripts, a little known project called “Crowded Room.” Crowded Room, unfortunately, doesn’t consist of any sci-fi elements, but is rather the true story of Billy Milligan, a man with multiple-personality disorder who raped 3 Ohio State college students in the 1970s, then pled innocent by reason of insanity, stating that it was one of his other personalities who did the raping, not him. I guess this was the case that began the end of accountability, huh?

This script is a bizarre mixed bag that is so clumsy in its execution, it makes me wonder just how interested James Cameron was in telling the story. The script starts off wonderfully, with us jumping between the multiple rape victims’ account of the rapes. Each one was methodical, with Billy catching them in the parking lot, bringing them to a secluded location, making them undress, reading them a poem, raping them, then taking them out to lunch.

It’s intense, it’s horrifying, it’s mysterious. During the accounts, Billy is said to have mentioned “the others” and some kind of “brotherhood,” so you’re thinking this has a lot of interesting places it can go. But interesting places to go it does not. What happens next is a brief snapshot of Billy’s trial, where he wins the case on the insanity plea, is then sent to a mental hospital for rehabilitation, and then, on page 40, we’re inexplicably thrust back to the beginning of Billy’s life, as an 8 year old boy, with a clueless mom and an abusive step father.

What follows is a bumpy reflection of – I guess – how Billy created these personalities.The people in his head consist of a Slavic man who reads and writes in perfect Serbo-Croation, a refined Englishman, a petty thief, an escape artist, an angry lesbian (supposedly the one who did the raping – not sure how that works). All in all, there are over 20 different personalities living inside of Billy. Now I know you’re probably reading this and going, “That sounds pretty cool.” But the problem is, none of these personalities is ever utilized in an interesting way. They occasionally pop up and start bitching about their situation. We hear a lot *about* what they can do. But as far using each of their unique traits to craft a story…no, we never get anything even close to that.

In fact, all we do is go back and forth between these lame points in Billy’s life (in one portion he’s involved in drugs! oh no!) occasionally jumping inside Billy’s mind where these personalities argue about how to keep their existence a secret from Billy. There’s absolutely no form to the story. We’re never given any clues as to where it’s going. And because of that, Crowded Room is as aimless as the mind of its main character.

I guess I’d understand the jump back to Billy’s earlier life if they left us with a cliff-hanger as to whether Billy would win the case or not – the implication being that we needed to go back and understand how Billy obtained this personalities in order to decide whether we wanted to root for his acquittal or not – but since his verdict is already decided, we leave that time without any sense of suspense whatsoever. After this long arduous flashback that takes nearly 80 pages, we come back to the present where a second trial seemingly pops out of nowhere, making an even stronger case for leaving us with a court cliffhanger, since we ended up coming back to the court anyway.

I wasn’t even clear on what this second case was about, but to be honest, by this point I was checked out of the story. There was just nothing interesting going on.

As long as we’re talking about cases, Crowded Room is another case for why I don’t think biopics work. People’s lives don’t fit into the three act structure. Ever. For that reason, they always feel clumsy and wrong, and because you must honor the truth of the subject’s life, you consistently miss out on some of the more intriguing opportunities the story can take advantage of. For instance, there are a few personalities in Billy that don’t seem to stem from logic. How does one of his personalities know how to read, write, and speak in a completely different language? How does one of his characters have better escape skills than Houdini? How can one of his personalities be left-handed? There is just some great potential to explore there, particularly if you jumped into the ream of the supernatural and began to ask, “What if this is more than just multiple personality disorder? What if the people inside his head are actually real?” That’s a movie I’d wanna see. Instead, we just get a bunch of cops and lawyers musing, “Did you realize that one of his personalities is left-handed?”

I don’t know. This started out great, but went south quickly. I’m still seeing Avatar this weekend though dammit. Thank God for present day Cameron.

Note: You can hear more opinions on this script by going over to Mystery Man’s site. He and some friends broke down the script themselves (I have not read the breakdowns so I don’t know if they liked or disliked the script).

Script link: No link

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

What I learned: Um, biopics suck? Let’s see. What else? Cameron has an interesting style of writing. He’ll write these huge 10-line paragraph chunks that drive readers crazy, but then he’ll have like ten pages of just dialogue, so you forgive him. I’ll tell you what drives me crazy. It’s writers who add little mini-paragraphs between every line of dialogue (or even every couple of lines). I understand the intention is to give us a little insight into what’s happening in the scene. But it seriously interrupts the flow of the read. For example.

LISA
This pie is amazing.

She licks her fork seductively.

JOE
Thanks. It’s a special recipe.

He cleans off his plate.

LISA
So what are we doing tomorrow?

She walks over and joins him at the sink.

JOE
Ehh, maybe go to a movie?

He gives her a quick kiss.

AHHHHHHHHH!!! I guarantee if you write like this the reader will just stop reading your line descriptions and go straight to the dialogue. So you might as well save space and make your script look cleaner anyway by not including any of this nonsense. Only add the action lines if they’re absolutely necessary.

Genre: Biopic
Premise: The life story of chess legend Bobby Fischer leading up to his historic world championship match against Boris Spassky.
About: With 17 votes, this ended up number 13 on the 2009 Black List. Steve Knight, the writer, wrote 2007’s gritty “Eastern Promises.”
Update: David Fincher is now said to be directing this.
Writer: Steve Knight
Status: Unknown.
Details: 123 pages – August 24^th, 2009 – FIRST DRAFT (because this is a first draft, there have likely been significant changes to the script, potentially addressing the issues I bring up)
First of all, in making sure I didn’t step on anyone’s Black List buzz, I had to read five really bad Black List scripts just to get to one I could tolerate. I guess I was a little spoiled reading The Voices and Desperados, cause I’m here to tell ya, they ain’t all like that. Luckily, chess legend Bobby Fisher came along, the myth who inspired the delightful little film, “Searching For Bobby Fischer,” (with a pre-Morpheus Lawrence Fishburne!). But this first draft feels more like a game of checkers, as Knight is clearly still exploring the possibilities here. It’s a bit like taking a museum tour in a helicopter. It’s clumsy and messy and not the best way to see things, but there are wonderful things to see nonetheless.

Bobby Fischer is cut from the same cloth as John Nash (A Beautiful Mind) and Howard Hughes (The Aviator), a brazen paranoid schizophrenic who manages his delusions by escaping into the world of chess. Even as a kid, he was an oddball, losing himself in self-played chess matches instead of making friends and playing “real sports.” What would later become a central force in instigating his delusions, Bobby’s openly communist mother repeatedly tried to get him diagnosed as “crazy.”

But Bobby’s mastery of chess eventually led to him becoming the youngest American champion ever, at 15 years old. We don’t spend that much time watching Bobby’s meteoric rise to fame here, but rather focus on two key events. The 1969 “Good Will” chess tournament between the United States and Russia. And one of the most famous sporting events in American History: The 1972 World Championship between Boris Spassky and Bobby Fischer.

Now a lot of you youngsters may be asking, “Why the hell did anybody care about chess?” Well here’s the thing, back in the 60s and 70s when America and The Soviet Union wanted to blow each other to pieces, there were only a few areas where they could prove their dominance over one another. One of them was sports (in the Olympics) and the other, what many considered to be the more important venue, since its application implied superior intelligence, was chess. For this reason, there was no such thing as a “friendly” chess match between the United States and Russia. It always carried a level of subtext. Whoever won was smarter, which, by association, made their country “smarter.”

The problem was, for as long as anybody could remember, nobody came close to challenging the Russians in this arena. That is, until Bobby Fischer showed up on the scene. The crazy wild-eyed swing-for-the-fences vagabond had more raw talent in his pinky toe than the entire Russian team put together. But his inner demons – his schizophrenia, his strained relationship with his mother – consistently hampered his ability to maximize his talent. Yet it was these deficiencies that turned him into such a superstar. You never knew what was going to happen when Bobby Fischer sat down to play chess.

Although the Good Will match is kinda fun, the draw here is the final act, and more specifically the 1972 World Championships. It’s here where Bobby did the impossible and defeated world champion Boris Spassky. The well-documented match was mired in controversy when, having gone down 2-0 to Spassky, Fisher walked away and refused to play unless they moved the rest of the match into a back room where it was quieter and he could concentrate. After some debate, Spassky agreed to the move, and Fischer went on to defeat him. Many people call Bobby’s demand one of the greatest chess “moves” in history, but for me, it left me feeling conflicted about the man. The lesson seemed to be, “If things aren’t going your way, whine and throw a tantrum until they do.” Could you imagine the Celtics being down 50-40 to the Lakers at halftime, then refusing to continue unless they moved the second half to a local high school? Is that really a heroic move?

And that’s the biggest challenge with writing Fischer’s story. You can see Knight struggling with it the whole way through. Fischer is so complicated, so all over the place, that it becomes almost impossible to define him with a single trait, that “fatal flaw” you traditionally assign characters in a dramatic story. For example, in one scene, we’re told that Bobby studies how the Russians play 18 hours a day. Then later on, when somebody points out to Bobby that Boris Spassky is “…up at five every morning to study. Goes to the ocean at six to swim then back to study.” Bobby replies with, “I have a routine too. Stand in the rain with a hooker. Wake up. Win.” So which is it? Is he a relentless worker or a careless vagabond? Since you never really know, and since you never really understand Bobby, it’s hard to find sympathy for him. It’s hard to get to know him.

But one thing is undeniable. Bobby Fischer is a fascinating character. If you go over to his Wikipedia page, you’ll read all sorts of stuff about his life that’s hard to believe. The trick is finding a way to focus all these events into a story that’s easy to digest. There’s some great stuff here, but Knight clearly has a ways to go (which he very well may have in the following drafts). The key lies in staying with the Russian conflict, as I think that’s where the story shines brightest. I didn’t care much for his relationships with his sister and his mother, as they felt like biopic cliché (i.e. Will the parental figure show up at the sporting event?)

Pawn Sacrifice isn’t there yet. But I have a feeling it will be. Fischer is too interesting of a human being.

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

What I learned: Don’t be afraid to get messy in your first draft. Throw more things in there than you plan to use. Explore a relationship you didn’t initially plan to explore. You’re looking for your core here. You’re trying to find something, whether it be your theme or the heart of your story, that you can anchor your story around in subsequent drafts. It’s okay not to know that right away. I’m a big fan of outlining before you write, but I’m just as supportive of leaving that outline in the dust if you think you’ve found an interesting tangent. The point is, you can always reel it back in later.

note: scroll down for today’s review

Ugh, just what we need. Another freaking list right? Well, in light of trying to figure out my own “Green List”, as well as after bouncing around the internet the last few days, reading through Nikki Finke’s comment section, along with my own and others, there seems to be a section of Hollywood that believes a lot of scripts were overlooked for The Black List in order for agencies and production companies to get their own projects on the list. In fact, they even started a “Black List 2.0” in Finke’s comment section. It quickly got swallowed up in the discussion. However, I thought, why not give the idea some legitimate attention?

I don’t know if these complainers are the bitter “our script didn’t make it” minority, or if this is a legitimate claim. I, for one, have found that most of the scripts on The Black List were really good. But hey, if it’s true. If there are some truly great unknown scripts that didn’t make it because the writers didn’t have the connections, let’s hear about them. When The Black List started, almost all of the scripts on it were unproduced. Getting back to the spirit of that, let’s see if we can’t come up with a list that contains some of today’s true unknowns.

I want to make clear that I am in no way doing this to discredit The Black List. I’m one who thinks that what Franklin is doing is great, and that anything that promotes the writer or helps a project get made is a good thing. Think of this more as a (totally unaffiliated) companion piece. I want to celebrate more of the great scripts bouncing around town that, for whatever reason, didn’t make the original list.

So leave your Top 5 (in order) here in the comment section, or e-mail them to me. Requirements are loose, but basically I’m asking, readers, CEs, producers, anyone who has access to scripts in the pipeline, etc., to list their 5 favorites from the year that didn’t make the 2009 Black List. If no one lists anything, I’ll assume that there isn’t that glut of mythological great scripts floating around.

note: I am keeping an eye on IP addresses in the comment section. So please refrain from pumping up your great screenplay on multiple lists. I’m not saying it isn’t great, but that’s not what this exercise is about.

Genre: Comedy
Premise: After a woman sends an indignant email to her new beau, who’s gone radio silent post sex, she discovers he’s comatose in a Mexican hospital and races south of the border with her friends in tow to intercept the email before he recovers.
About: This is the number 8 script on 2009’s Black List. The casting cabinet has Isla Fisher placed neatly on the shelf to play Wesley. Rapoport has a bit of a reputation for writing raunchy female dialogue and situations, the kind of stuff that would make even the girls of Sex and The City blush.
Writer: Ellen Rapoport
Details: 112 pages (June 23, 2009 draft)

To prepare you for Desperados, one should know that the opening scene contains horse fucking. One should also know that the words, “enormous horse penis” are used. I’m just trying to acclimate you to the weather here. Everyone’s calling Desperados the “female version of The Hangover,” and I can confirm that tone and storywise, that’s exactly what it is. But is it as good as The Hangover, a script that made the original Scriptshadow Top 25 way back when? Or was the comparison just a brilliant marketing tool, culminating in a sweet spot as one of the official best screenplays in town?
Wesley is a cute 30-something lawyer who’s spent way too much time in the gym, pushing and pulling and shaping herself to be ready for the moment she meets Mr. Right. Problem is, she hasn’t met him yet, and she’s right on the cusp of that horrible female stage where you become the angry bitter single version of yourself. You know, the kind of guy/girl you always made fun of as a kid? But she decides to give the penis-bearing ones one last chance. And it ends in the worst blind date ever. But then, almost magically, she runs into Jared, a dreamy 37 year old Adonis with a personality as perfect as his smile. Jackpot!

The two go out a few times, and against her best friends’ (bitchy Brooke and Optimist Kaylie) wishes, Wesley has sex with him. Walking on air, she’s already hearing wedding bells. But then Jared doesn’t call. And Wesley gets so freaked she goes through that psycho stage where you check the person’s Facebook page 90 times a day to see if they’ve made any updates, confirming they’re living their life just fine and ignoring you in the process. When 24 hours turns into five days, Wesley’s had it. With the rage of all the failed relationships she’s ever had wrapped inside her, she sends him the mother of all “fuck off” e-mails. The problem is, is that Jared calls a few minutes later, calmly apologizing. It seems that he’s been in a car accident in Mexico, and he’ll be holed up in the hospital for a couple of days.
Oops.

Wesley, Brooke and Kaylie realize the only way Wesley has a chance of keeping this guy, is if they jet to the Mexican hotel Jared is staying at, break into his room, and delete the e-mail off his computer before he gets back from the hospital. So they jump on a plane and actually FLY TO MEXICO. To DELETE AN E-MAIL.

In what becomes a cross between The Hangover and Forgetting Sarah Marshall, the three friends hang out at a plush vacation style Mexican hotel, while Wesley runs around trying various ways of getting into Jared’s room. In addition to that, she must deal with that disastrous blind date she had the night she met Jared – the occasionally charming Huck – as by the father of all coincidences, he’s taking a vacation at the very same hotel!

This is easily the script’s sweet spot and where a lot of the laughs are. In one scene, Wesley wraps herself in nothing but a skimpy towel outside of Jerod’s room, hoping she’ll be able to convince the maids that she’s been locked out of her *own* room. I won’t give everything away, but I will say the scene ends with a naked Wesley in the bathroom with a curious 14 year old boy, who are then interrupted by the boy’s mother.

In between attempts to delete that incriminating e-mail and get back to LA, Wesley repeatedly and reluctantly bumps into Asshole Huck. Problem is, after a few run-ins, Huck doesn’t seem so much like an asshole, and even though she’s head over heels for Jared, there’s something kinda cool about this guy. After awhile, it’s clear she’s developing feelings for him, but she ignores them in order to pursue the man she believes she’s supposed to spend the rest of her life with.

What I liked about Desperados is its theme of how we present ourselves. The way we introduce the perfect version of us to everyone, hoping that if we trickle out our faults at spacious enough intervals, that the other person won’t notice, or be in too deep to turn back. It’s such a deceptive but common tactic that it almost makes you wonder if you’ve ever given anyone the “real” you. And if you’re not giving people the real you, can you even call the relationship real? I think it’s an interesting debate and by no means does Desperados dig that deeply into it, but definitely scratches the surface.

I also liked how Rapoport explored the notion of ‘how crazy is crazy?’ And how the relative notion of crazy is always in the eye of the beholder. Wesley is out there passing judgment on the fucked up shit people do every day. Yet she’s the one flying to Mexico to delete an e-mail from a guy who isn’t even officially her boyfriend. It gets you thinking about some of the crazier things you’ve done for a guy or a girl, and how in the moment those ideas seemed totally rational.

The only thing I didn’t like about Desperados, and what kept it from what I was sure would be an impressive rating, was the ending. Rapoport wrote herself into a bit of a corner with the two guys, and at the end, she has to find a way out of it. The reasoning for why one of the guys falls out of the running is the only time in the script where the writing felt forced. And because this took me out of the story at such a critical moment, I couldn’t help but lose some of my enthusiasm for it.

But hey, this is still a really funny – sometimes even hilarious – screenplay. I’m thinking 8’s the perfect spot for it on this year’s list.

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

What I learned: (spoilers) I talked about this after my review of “The City That Sailed.” But since that review disappeared, let’s discuss it again. It’s hard to create a story based on a relationship when the people in the relationship are never together. In this case, you have Wesley and Jared who, because of the plot machinations, can’t meet up til the end. This makes a lot of writers, as well as producers and directors, nervous, because they don’t have their male and female leads together ever. Not only is that going to disappoint audiences (imagine Pretty Woman if Julia Roberts and Richard Gere weren’t around each other for 90% of the movie), but what actors want to play parts where their characters never act opposite one another? This is why a lot of writers add in a second love-interest. And usually, because audiences want to see their leads onscreen together, this love story becomes the main love story, which is exactly what happens in Desperados (with Huck). The key is to understand this problem (my lead characters are never together) before you write the script, because I guarantee you you’ll have to deal with suggestions later that your main characters are never together, and therefore you need to write in another character (or completely change your story). In the end, I think Desperados made it work because it was always less about the relationship and more about the comedy. But it’s still a slipperly slope, and I try to avoid stories like this when I can, cause they’re always tricky.

Genre: Drama/Independent
Premise: A disturbed man with a good heart is tormented by his talking pets, who convince him to do things he’d rather not do.
About: This is the number 3 script on the 2009 Black List. For those of you scratching your heads and saying the name “Michael R. Perry,” sounds familiar, that’s because it is. We reviewed one of his older scripts here called, “Twenty Billion,” which he wrote with Steven Gaghan and Michael Tolkin. Perry’s been around for awhile, writing and producing for TV shows like Millennium, The Practice, NYPD Blue, and House M.D. Not surprising at all, since this script shows a command of the craft I haven’t seen in a long time.
Writer: Michael R. Perry
Details: 112 pages (January 28, 2009 draft)

The Voices is a gooey and glorious dip into darkness. It bites when you expect it to bark. It bleeds when you expect it to heal. It’s one of those rare experiences where, no matter how many millions of words you’re read in your lifetime, you have no idea what to expect next. The characters are always odd, saying and doing things that don’t quite feel like things normal people say and do. Yet in this universe, it all makes perfect sense. Part Dr. Dolittle, part American Psycho (try using that mash-up as a pitch), I can say with complete confidence that I’ve never read a script like The Voices before, nor do I ever expect to again.

Jerry Hickfang is one of those guys who looks normal at first, but ya get the feeling he has a few loose screws up in the attic. He’s just started working at a massive bathroom fixture factory, sealing up shower molds so people like you and I can stay clean during our day job. Jerry is nice and polite, if a little too eager to bond with his new co-workers.

If you had any doubt that Jerry was strange, that goes away once he gets home (home is an abandoned Bowling Alley attic by the way). It’s there that we meet Jerry’s two pets, Mr. Whiskers the cat and Bosco the dog. Mr. Whiskers gives it to you straight, condemning your life choices at every opportunity and never leaving any doubt that the world is a horrible place, and that you’re likely doing horrible things in it. Bosco is much nicer, constantly supportive of your choices and goals. If Jerry has a nice day, Bosco’s the one to congratulate him. Oh, did I mention I know this because Jerry’s animals talk to him? Yes, ever since Jerry has been a child, dogs, cats, socks, and random inanimate objects talk to him. Jerry hears voices.
But hey, what’s a little harmless conversation about last week’s The Bachelor with your poodle if no one’s getting hurt, right? Things seem to be going just splendid anyway. Jerry’s been invited to the company picnic, where he befriends Katie from accounting, a beautiful invigorating spirit who I couldn’t help but think should be played by that new secretary from The Office. Katie likes Jerry, but not nearly as much as Jerry likes her. When Katie recruits Jerry to help teach the Macarena to everyone, he interprets it as a sign of true love (as crazy people usually do). This, unfortunately, is seriously bad news for Katie. Because when crazy people meet girls in movies, they tend to end up killing them later.

So late one night, when Jerry’s cruising around after the carnival, he runs into Katie, whose car has broken down. Naturally, he takes this as a sign of fate. Katie isn’t nearly as convinced, but she’s game for some fun and the two go on an impromptu date. But when a 5 point buck smashes through their window, the mood goes south pronto, and a freaked out Katie darts into the woods. Jerry races after her, and in a clumsy scuffle to settle her down, he accidentally stabs and kills her. Jerry runs home, where he seeks advice from his talking pets. Bosco thinks he should go to the police right away. And naturally, Mr. Whiskers believes that choice is the stupidest fucking idea on earth. Jerry decides to keep his trap shut.

Back at work, people become suspicious about Katie’s absence, but no one knows the two went out together, so as long as they don’t find the body, Jerry’s fine. Mr. Whiskers picks up on this and encourages Jerry to dispose of the body, so Jerry drives out to the woods and brings it back. He then chops it into pieces for disposal, and throws the severed head in the fridge. This is when things got kinda freaky. Because you hear about this sick shit on the news, yet here, we’re getting an ongoing play by play of exactly how the killer is thinking while he’s doing it. And because there’s a certain amount of sympathy we have towards Jerry, and because we know that Jerry didn’t mean to do it, everything he does makes sense on some level.

The problem for Jerry is that “the voices” stop peddling their candy-coated rhetoric and start getting nasty. If he’s already killed once, they argue, why not kill more? Jerry doesn’t want to hurt anyone, but his pets are his only true friends, and he takes their advice dearly. So Jerry asks a second girl out from work, and we watch hopelessly as this new relationship evolves, knowing full well there’s only one way it can end, despite Jerry’s best intentions. The fallout from that relationship leads to a host of other complications that snowball out of control, until Jerry’s forced to deal with just how fucked up in the head he is – starting with the issue of his cat and his dog carrying on daily conversations with him.

The biggest achievement of The Voices is the aforementioned sympathy you gain for a character who’s, essentially, a serial killer. He continues to kill innocent people, yet his rationalization behind each kill makes sense in the context of his situation. It makes you wonder, “Is this the kind of stuff that goes on in a real serial killer’s head? Do they too hear these voices?” Since we, as human beings, survive by rationalizing our most devious behaviors, is it okay to sympathize with someone for doing something horrible if that person truly believes they’re not being horrible? Jerry never wants to kill anyone. Yet people seem to get killed around Jerry. I guess the point I’m trying to make is, “Why the hell am I rooting for a serial killer???”

Part of it is Perry’s mastery of tone. He molds it and shapes it just like Jerry molds those shower stalls. Because the characters and situations here exist in a slightly sillier/heightened universe, Perry is allowed to get away with more. This is a universe where the Macarena is the movie’s soundtrack, where characters live in bowling alleys, and of course, where dogs, cats, and severed heads speak. This slightly offbeat world helps cushion the impact of some of the more outrageously violent moments, allowing us to enjoy them, instead of the more natural response of being sickened.

It’s hard to find much wrong with The Voices. I guess the deaths were a little repetitive (all the victims seemed to run into the forest – although I guess that could be used for comedic effect). The theme of God comes on strong in the final act, yet its presence is pretty scattershot in the first two. And on a more real-world note, I felt sorry for these poor pets Jerry was obviously neglecting (the healthy happy talking pets he sees are not even close to what the real pets look like). But this was such a fresh unique read, I bandied about whether I should add it to my Top 25. For now I’m going to keep it off. But I might throw it up there in a few weeks, after I’ve had time to let it sink in.

If this sounds like something you’d in any way be interested in, drop what you’re doing and read it now.

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

What I learned: I often talk about “What’s driving your story?” What is the main thrust at any given moment that keeps your reader turning the pages? Most of the time, it’s a character with a strong goal (i.e. Find the Arc, save your daughter, kill the terrorists) or a mystery (The Ring, Sixth Sense, The Hangover) or maybe your character is being chased (i.e. Enemy Of The State, The Bourne movies, Star Wars). But there are also lesser known devices you can use to drive our interest. And one of them is used here. The “train wreck” approach. Basically, it’s providing a scenario we know is going to end badly, so we have to keep watching to see how it ends. Here, we know Jerry is crazy. We know all of this is going to blow up in his face. So we keep watching to find out when and how it happens. It’s no different than the sick anticipation we have creeping up the highway as we wait to see the big car wreck. We have to look. It’s not as popular of a device, but it can definitely be used effectively in the right hands.