Genre: Sci-Fi Thriller
Premise: An ex-professor seeks the truth about a secret organization known as the “Karma Coalition.”
About: A high-profile pick-up from Warner Bros. in late 2008 to the tune of 1.5 million. Christensen is the lead singer for a band called Stellarstarr. Christensen also co-wrote “Sidney Hall” which has been set up with producers Ridley and Tony Scott.
Writer: Shawn Christensen

“I just sold a script for 1.5 million dollars suckerrrrrs!”

Now I’ve caught a lot of flak for liking this script so much. People barrage me with arguments like “It’s got plot holes you could drive a semi through!” They say it’s cheesy, clunky, and all over the place. You know what I say? You’re wrong. You’re 93% stinking wrong! This script was a hell of a ride. Not to mention I’m a sucker for a good “ordinary man in extrodinatry circumstances” tale – and Karma Coaliton takes care of my fix.

Beware. Major spoilers follow. Part of the reason I liked this script so much was that I didn’t have any clue what it was about going in. So if you plan on reading it, tread carefully.There are spoiler landmines everywhere.

A recent flap of deaths has been occurring all over the world – deaths of very important people: Archdioceses, scientists, celebrities. But why? What’s the connection? There’s someone who knows. Someone who’s been betting on these deaths from the beginning. And getting it right every single time. So we’re going to find out who this person is and how they’re making these amazing predictions right? Wrong. The prognosticator is killed on Page 6.

Whoa.

William Craft, a relatively young college professor who just lost his job for sleeping with one of his students (wait a minute, don’t all college professors sleep with their students? I thought that was one of the perks.) is just trying to make it to the next day. He’s a widow. His soul mate/wife/love of his life died in a car accident six years ago. Without her, he’s been stumbling through life, looking for a purpose.

William’s life is turned upside-down when the police blow into his place and arrest him. Remember the prognosticator? Turns out William used to be friends with him. He’s thrown into an interrogation room and told that he’s under suspicion for the murder of this man. Before they deal with that, however, the cop slides a mysterious box across the table and asks William to open it. The box belonged to the prognosticator and was left to William.

William carefully pries the box open. Inside are five things. One, a note that tells him the cop opposite him is one of the dirtiest cops in the city. Two, a gun. Three, smoke bombs. Four, a DVD. And five, a note. A note that simply says: “She’s still alive.”

Have I got your attention yet? Welcome to Karma Coalition. I don’t know about you, but I’m hooked.

I’m not going to tell you how William gets out of the room because it’s pretty obvious. He’s got smoke bombs! After escaping, he takes his newfound possessions to a friends’ and pops the DVD in. The DVD is of the prognosticator, who informs him that in 2013, a huge catastrophic event takes place that wipes out 90% of the earth’s population. Because of this, a secret organization called the Karma Coalition is faking the deaths of very important people all over the world, in order to get them onto a secret island called “Parista,” where they will be safe and the human race will continue.

Guess whose wife is on that iiiiiiiii-sland?

Naturally, William will do anything to get to the island. And the good news is, he’s on the Parista list. But the cops chasing him have other plans. Will William make it to Parista? Will he be reunited with his wife? I’m sorry but you’ll have to read the script to find out. Or the rest of the review.

I loved the heart-pounding unpredictable nature of Karma Coalition but it did have its faults. (Major spoilers) When William finally gets to Parista, we have about 7 minutes to wrap up the storyline between him and his wife. He charges into a restaurant where his wife and her parents are having dinner and it just feels…wrong. Clunky. Weird. This is the love of his life and it’s not the way to reunite them. Part of the predicament of Karma Coalition is that you do have the main character getting to his destination late in the screenplay, forcing you to wrap up a lot of storylines in a very short amount of time. As a result, all of the storylines get short-shrift. None more than him and his wife, which should’ve been an incredibly emotional moment and wasn’t.

But the final sequence of Karma Coalition is ridiculously fun. The cops are tracking down the island of Parista, trying to find William. Yet they’re being led deep into the middle of Wyoming. How can there be an island in the middle of Wyoming? The answer leads us to “the big twist,” which I suspect put Karma Coalition over the hump and secured it that huge sale. Many people point out that the twist doesn’t hold water (ahem, island reference). And if you really think about it, there are definitely some inconsistencies. But I had so much fun getting there and the twist was so unexpected, I didn’t care. It’s one of those things you know they’re going to address in the rewrites anyway, so I just went with it.

Sure Karma Coaltion can be silly at times. And it’s not afraid to toss in a few cliches. But the script is so fast and its imagination so vibrant, I’m going to prematurely vanguish all you Negative Nancies out there and highly recommend it.

[ ] trash
[ ] barely kept my interest
[ ] worth the read
[x] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: Probably the best “ordinary man in an extraordinary circumstance” movie is either “North By Northwest” or “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” The reason we’ve been so light on this genre lately is because Hollywood demands more realism these days. Your character has to behave in a realistic way. I don’t know about you but if a terrorist pointed a gun at my head, I wouldn’t go for a Bruce Lee sweep of the legs combined with a Trinity wall climb, simultaneously grabbing his gun and forcing him to shoot his own partner. I’d probably scream like a little girl. The problem in these movies is that sooner or later, your character will be forced into choices that require extraordinary actions. How he/she goes about them in a believable way is the key to making the genre work. I’m telling you this after highlighting a scene in KC where our “ordinary” hero escapes an interrogation room with smoke bombs. So obviously these rules are not hard and fast. But I guarantee you this issue will be brought up in any script you submit. So you might as well nip it in the bud now.

I don’t usually print this stuff but the Moneyball story fascinates me. In real life there are two sides to every story. But in Hollywood, there are a dozen. Here is an e-mail I received from someone very close to the project. It seems this thing is way more complicated than just “your draft/my draft”, and gives us some insight into just how difficult it is to get movies made. Here is the original Moneyball review if you’re not caught up.

Carson–

Genre: Drama-Thriller
Premise: A man wakes up in a coffin with no idea how he got there.
About: Ryan Reynolds just signed onto this last week. Spanish director Rodrigo Cortes will take the reigns for Chris Sparling’s script. Spain-based Versus Entertainment will finance the film.
Writer: Chris Sparling

This was the only picture I could find of Ryan Reynolds with his shirt on.

I loooooooooved this script. I loved it for so many reasons I can’t count them. First of all, I am always on the lookout for a smart cheap movie idea, something that can be shot with minimal hands, minimal equipment, and minimal funds. You know, a way for you to actually *make* a movie without having to go through that sludge-pit known as the Hollywood “system.” I tell anyone who will listen: If you can shoot the movie yourself, do it, because you’ll achieve what 98% of screenwriters never will – having a finished film. But don’t be fooled into thinking this is easy. I don’t care who says anybody can make a film with a camera and a Mac. If you want your movie to look professional, you’re going to need somebody who knows how to light, somebody who knows how to shoot, somebody who knows how to dress a set. You’re still going to need things that cost money. Therefore, you’re extremely limited in the scope of your film. It’s why a lot of low-budget films take place in one location. Keeps things cheap.

So when I heard of a script where the whole thing took place in a coffin?? I flipped. Like flipped out in anger. Why didn’t I think of that?? The cheapest movie set EV-ER. But wait. How do you write an entire story that takes place in a coffin? Let’s ask Chris Sparling.

Paul, an American truck driver in Iraq, has just woken up in a coffin. It’s burning up. Hot as balls. Lack of oxygen makes it hard to breathe. And let’s not forget the coffin, which only allows him a few inches of room in every direction. I will offer this warning right now: If you are claustrophobic, do not read this script.

At first Paul has no memory of how he got here. But things start slowly coming back to him. He was driving a truck, delivering food, when there was a loud explosion. Many of his co-workers were killed but somehow he wasn’t. He remembers Iraqis coming towards him. But after that? Nothing. Now he’s down here, in a grave, in Iraq. Yes, Sparling wrote an international thriller with a 75,000 dollar price tag. (well, maybe 2 million after Reynolds is paid). Can you say genius?

Paul feels a buzz. A buzz! It’s a phone! He has a phone! He checks it. It’s not his. It’s got 1 bar of flashing reception and 2 bars of battery left. This phone is his only chance at survival. When it runs out, so does he. He starts frantically calling people. First Emergency. He hurriedly explains his situation but the operator is suspicious. Why is a man buried in a coffin, supposedly in Iraq, calling an Ohio emergency line? The woman is worthless. He hangs up and calls home. But all he gets is the answering machine. He leaves a desperate message but who knows if his phone will even work by the time his wife gets home.

Then Paul receives a call. A man, Jabir, tells him that unless Paul can come up with 5 million dollars by 9:00pm (it’s 7:00), he will be left in his coffin to die. Paul, who already had anxiety issues *before* he ended up in a coffin, nearly shits his pants. He gets back on the phone, trying to get to the FBI, but in a well-disguised commentary on the state of our society, no one gives a shit. They forward him to other people, give him other numbers to call. If you’ve ever had to call Time Warner with an internet problem, Paul’s situation might be familiar to you. He finally contacts a man in Iraq, Dan, whose job it is to deal with these “situations”. Dan tells Paul that this is common practice for poor Iraqis. They kidnap and bury Americans, then ask for a ransom. If the money isn’t paid, they leave them to die. Since the U.S. doesn’t negotiate with terrorists, you can understand how precarious Paul’s situation is. But Dan says he’s going to find Paul. “How many of us have you found?” Paul asks. Dan doesn’t answer.

The signal keeps flashing in and out, cutting off his calls prematurely, making everything even more frustrating. The battery bar goes down to one. Every call wastes precious battery juice. And as he waits, there’s a nearby bombing, which shakes the ground, cracks the top of the coffin, and allows sand to start pouring in, slowly filling up the coffin. All the while, Paul begins to wonder if Dan is really trying to save him, or trying to keep him from turning this into an international incident, which could scar the U.S.’s already tainted reputation. Is Dan trying to keep Paul quiet until he dies?

This is top-notch storytelling here. Sparling really does a bang-up job creating tension. There are so many ticking time bombs: the battery, the signal, the air supply, the ransom, the sand, will Dan’s people find him in time? It’s all ticking down and you really feel this guy drowning – running out of options. My only fear film is whether an audience can handle being in a coffin for 80 minutes. I guess we’ll find out. But it won’t affect how solid this script is. A great read.

[ ] trash
[ ] barely kept my interest
[ ] worth the read
[x] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: One location movies should be kept SHORT. I would highly recommend they not be over 95 pages. “Buried” understood this rule and was only 80 pages long. Audiences get a little jumpy if they’re in one place for too long (blame Michael Bay). So keep the story slim.

note: (9/23/11) Since these drafts, Aaron Sorkin came on to do a final rewrite on the script, which is the one that eventually went in front of the cameras. 

To get caught up on what exactly “Moneyball” is and the drama that occurred this week, go here to find out.

Genre: Sports Bio
Premise: A general manager with the lowest payroll in baseball invents a new way of scouting involving little-known but very powerful statistics.
About: Based on a true story. Adapted from the book by Michael Lewis. Moneyball came to the attention of everyone when Sony Exec Amy Pascal shut down the movie 3 days before the start of production due to Soderbergh’s rewrite of the script (episode of Entourage anyone?)
Writers: Steven Zaillian (Dec. Draft)- Steven Soderbergh (June shooting draft) — Edit: I thought I’d mention this because people keep bringing it up. There is a May Zaillian draft that I’ve been told is quite different from the December draft I read. Some of the things I liked in that Dec. draft were missing from Zaillian’s subsequent draft (meaning it wasn’t Soderbergh’s sole choice to get rid of them).

Do you know the kind of balls it takes to shut down the production of a Brad Pitt movie? When Brad Pitt says he’ll do your movie, 20 million dollars or not, he’s doing *you* a favor. And it’s not like Pitt hasn’t picked up and walked off on a whim before. Anybody remember The Fountain? – And that was before he met the baby buyer. Nowadays Brad goes out for groceries and he comes home to two more kids. So the fact that Amy Pascal, Chairman of Sony Studios, halted production on Moneyball upon reading the most recent draft by Soderbergh is a BFD. The question is, what happened? Well, we all know Soderbergh has a seriously off-kilter approach to directing. Given some room, he’ll turn your straightforward sports tale into a series of flashbacks and flashforwards with Spanish subtitles and 97 minutes of voice over. Lucky for you, Scriptshadow’s got both drafts and will get to the bottom of this mess. Did Soderbergh destroy Moneyball? Did Pascal overreact? Read on to find out.

STEVEN ZAILLIAN DRAFT

Baseball is a game of numbers. No other sport in the world depends more on numbers than baseball . From singles to doubles to home runs to RBIs to errors to batting averages to slugging percentages to on-base percentages, the sport *is* its numbers. And it’s those numbers that form the nucleus of Moneyball’s story.

I’m sure when I say the name Billy Beane, it doesn’t mean much to you. But you say the name Billy Beane in baseball circles, and it means a hell of a damn lot. Billy Beane is the general manager of the Oakland A’s. The Oakland A’s are one of the smallest markets in Major League Baseball. To give you an idea of how small, the Yankees payroll is 120 million dollars. The A’s payroll? 40 million. Do the math. So the question is: How do you compete in a league where every other team has at least twice as much money as you do?

Billy is a complicated man. He loves the grind but hates watching the fruits of his labor. Billy doesn’t travel with the team. He doesn’t watch the games. He doesn’t like any of the players. All he cares about is putting together a team that wins. Unfortunately, his 40 million dollar payroll has made that next to impossible. Early on, Billy is with his girlfriend, getting ready to escape to a tropical island. But Billy gets a call on his cell, and that call leads to a few more calls, and the next thing you know, a trade is going down. He smiles politely to his girlfriend, hands her his ticket, and says, “Go ahead. I’ll meet you there in a few days.” And leaves! It’s the perfect introduction to Billy because that action, that sequence, tells us exactly who he is.

You see, Billy just lost the three best players on his team and has been told by his owner that he’s only got a few million bucks to replace them. So Billy heads off to another tropical paradise, Cleveland, to discuss some trades with the GM of the Indians, Mark Shapiro. Billy is particularly interested in a player named “Rincon”, someone so low on Shapiro’s radar that he barely recognizes the name. After Shapiro agrees in principle to a trade, a previously unseen nerdy 20-something on a laptop walks over and whispers into Shapiro’s ear. He slinks back to the couch and Shapiro calmly turns to Billy, “I’m sorry, you can’t have Rincon.” Billy spins back and glares at this mystery kid. “Who the fuck are you??” his eyes say. But the kid is already back to his computer. This kid’s name is Paul.

Billy corners Paul outside the building and demands to know what the hell he told Shapiro. The argument turns into dinner, and Paul lays out his approach to baseball. He’s calculated every single statistic known to baseball and only one is inexorably tied to winning: On-base percentage. Since everyone else is obsessed with home runs and RBIs, this stat has been relatively ignored. Paul believes that if you create a team full of only players with high on-base percentages (A stat so insignificant that you could get the players for dirt cheap) you could theoretically win all the time. Billy thinks Paul might be crazy, but he’s up shit creek anyway, so he hires him.

Billy and Paul then apply this untested strategy in the face of years of baseball experience. The idea that you can look at a spreadsheet, and not at the player himself, when putting together a team, causes all sorts of drama inside the A’s organization. Essentially, Billy assembles a rag-tag motley crew of rejects with high on-base percentages. When Oakland quickly falls into last place, the drama only gets worse. But the stubborn Billy and Paul stick together, and in the end their faith pays off, as Oakland ends the season with a 20-game win streak, the single longest win-streak in American League history.

The only problem with the script is that it gets too wrapped up in its details, too wrapped up in its numbers. We follow the A’s through an entire season and, not unlike keeping tabs on a real baseball season, it’s hard to stay focused. Late in the script I was myself asking that age old question: What’s driving the story? The best I could come up with is: the curiosity of whether the stats system is going to work. But in that black hole where stories go to die known as the second half of the second act, there isn’t enough to remind us of this – to keep us focused – and the story loses some luster as a result. The question is, did Soderbergh address this issue in his rewrite and, more importantly, what else did he address? We’ll talk about that in a second. But in regards to Zaillian’s draft, I’m going to recommend the read. Sure it wandered. But I’ve always been fascinated by the jobs of General Managers, and this gave me some great insight into their world.

[ ] trash
[ ] barely kept my interest
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

Script Link: Moneyball (link taken down by request)

SODERBERGH DRAFT (dated 6-22-09)
note: Bad news. I cannot post this draft. It’s got Sony markings all over it and you’ll just have to trust me when I say it wouldn’t be a good idea.

So was it *that* bad? I mean, studios go into production all the time with terrible scripts. Particularly when huge actors like Pitt are involved. So what made Pascal put her foot down? What made her embark on a decision that would taint the project from now til release? I’ll tell you what. A bad script. Soderbergh really screwed this up. Moneyball wasn’t Chinatown, but at least it was a story. Soderbergh’s turned it into a mishmash of ideas in search of a point. It’s like he yanked the sail off the boat and let us drift out to sea.

It’s hard to point to any one change that ruined the script, but there are several troublesome choices that were made. Remember that early scene where Billy leaves his girlfriend at the airport? That scene told us everything we needed to know about who we’d be following for the next two hours. What does Soderbergh do instead? He has Billy meet Paul in one of the most basic, uninteresting introductions to two characters I’ve seen in a long time. The two stand around and proceed to tell us (er, I mean each other) exactly who they are.
[scrippet]
BILLY
JP said you’re the guy I should be talking to.

PAUL
JP is great.

BILLY
JP is great. He said you just got promoted.

PAUL
Yeah, I was advance scouting and I was just made Special Assistant to the GM.

BILLY
Well, Cleveland’s a monster franchise. I think John Hart and Mark Shapiro are super smart. They got a good thing going.

PAUL
I have to say, it’s nice knowing at the beginning of the year that you’re probably going to the playoffs.

BILLY
I’ll bet.

PAUL
I hear you’re extended.

BILLY
Yeah, four years. It’s good, you know. I can watch things happen. And we’re close to getting a new stadium.

PAUL
Which you need.

BILLY
Which we definitely need. So let me ask you. Can you work spreadsheets and all that stuff, like Excel? Can you manage a payroll?

PAUL
Yeah.

BILLY
Great, because I suck at that…
[/scrippet]
Yes, instead of that great scene where the mysterious Paul walks up and whispers into Shapiro’s ear, we now get, “So let me ask you: can you work spreadsheets and all that stuff?”

The draft was an Exposition Empire, with characters blurting out all sorts of things we needed to know without a hint of subtlety. I kept thinking I was at a museum listening to a tour guide, “And here we have Billy. Billy has discovered a secret set of numbers. He will now try to apply them to his team and hopefully win in the process.” All the fun from the first draft is gone here. The dramatization. The subtext. It’s vanished, not unlike the Montreal Expos.

Also gone are most of Billy’s scenes with his daughter, the only true relationship with another human being he has, and therefore the only thing that humanizes him – Billy’s drifting from woman to woman (Although there’s only scarce mention of it – he appears to be married in Soderbergh’s version), the flashbacks of Billy as a player (replaced by interviews with real people who played with Billy) and that feeling of, “Billy and Paul against the world,” stemming from their unique system and how it flies in the face of 150 years of baseball – probably the most exciting part of the story.

But the biggest faux-pas is the handling of the all-important “on-base percentage” stat. This is what the A’s figured out that everybody else ignored – the hidden statistic that was the key to their success. It’s what allows them to compete with half the salary of all the other teams. This is the movie. Yet here it’s treated like an afterthought. In fact, I couldn’t even tell you what the A’s secret to success was in Soderbergh’s draft. It’s implied that there’s a spreadsheet involved but the explanation stops there. A spreadsheet of never-explained numbers? That’s how the team wins? That’s your hook for the movie?

Look, Soderbergh is the kind of director that likes to find his movies in the editing room. Shoot a bunch of stuff, see what sticks. If something doesn’t connect logically , throw some voiceover in there and add a little score. That seems to be his plan of attack with Moneyball. I don’t know what the final movie would look like so I couldn’t definitively tell you if he would of salvaged this, but I do know he turned a solid script into an incomprehensible mess. And that’s why his movie was shut down.

[x] a mess
[ ] barely kept my interest
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: Don’t write a sports movie. They’re too difficult to write. If the team ends up winning in the end, it feels overly-sappy and cliche. If you go with a grittier more realistic approach, it comes off as boring and self-important. Lose-lose. If you must ignore my advice, go with either a boxing movie or a true story (like this one). But just know that writing a good sports movie is RFH (really fucking hard) and selling one is even harder. Take my advice and don’t do it.