Genre: Thriller
Premise: When a runner sells his extra New York Marathon entry off for cash, he unwittingly invites a terrorist into his life.
About: This script sold for 750 thousand dollars back in 1995. Three writers wrote it. Kirk De Micco would go on to write The Croods and a lot of other kids content. Stuart J. Zicherman would go on to write the Ben Affleck movie, Elektra. He has since written steadily in television. Most recently, he wrote episodes for The Shrink Next Door and Alaska Daily. Trotiner moved onto producing. His most well-known recent project is Braven.
Writers: Kirk De Micco, Glen Trotiner, and Stuart J. Zicherman
Details: 1995 draft – 132 pages
Peaky Blinders actress Charlie Murphy for Shawn?
One of the things I sit around and spend way too much time thinking about is, did screenwriters work harder back in 1995 or do they work harder now? Cause back in 1995, scripts sold so frequently that there was this belief that you didn’t really have to do much to sell something. So why work hard?
While it’s much harder to sell a script in 2023, I still get the sense that aspiring screenwriters don’t work as hard as they used to. The large majority of the scripts I read today feel like they’re 4-5 drafts from being anywhere near maxing out their potential. I don’t know. What do you guys think?
What intrigued me about this script is that it’s supposed to be a little more sophisticated than your average 90s spec. It’s constructed to make you think more. Let’s see if that’s the case.
26 year old New Yorker, Jamie Mitchell, works as an assistant to Hank Goldberger, the man in charge of the current president’s re-election campaign. Jamie has politics in his blood, as his father was a well-known politician. But he’s got something else in his blood as well – running.
The New York marathon has 100,000 applicants. And it only awards 20,000 entries. Since Jamie, who’s also in law school, has never gotten in, he decides to enter under four different names this year, quadrupling his chances. As it so happens, he gets in twice, once under his name and once under an alias, Stephen Bloom.
Jamie tells his 2 years-long girlfriend, Wendy, that he’s going to make a little cash on that second entry and sells it in the classifieds. He meets up with a beautiful young Irish buyer named Shawn, tells her he’s Stephen Bloom, and then sells his “Stephen Bloom” entry to her.
Jamie can’t stop thinking about Shawn for some reason, so when he runs into her again (literally, they see each other while running), it doesn’t take much for him to get lured back to her place and have wild sex. When Jamie doesn’t go home that night, Wendy dumps him. And then when Jamie goes to check on his best friend, Barry, he finds out he’s been executed in his apartment.
It doesn’t take much for Jamie to realize that Shawn is involved, especially because she tells him she killed Barry. She also informs Jamie that he’s going to help her with a bombing during the marathon as she needs to do it for the IRA. He refuses, running to the Feds, who tell him that they need him to work with Shawn to find out exactly what she has planned. Needless to say, Jamie’s life has turned upside-down, all because he tried to cheat the system. Dishonesty doesn’t pay, kiddos.
This was a really sharp script.
I’m struggling to figure out why it didn’t get made. I suppose the setting might have felt low-stakes. Yeah, you have the president involved. But the story really just revolves around this marathon. So I’m guessing the studios looked at the marathon as not the easiest thing to build a marketing campaign around. This was, of course, well before the whole Boston Marathon bombing.
The script has a really interesting villain in Shawn. This was long before it became fashionable to cast female villains. So the script feels a bit ahead of its time. And she isn’t just a face. She’s legitimately terrifying. Not only does she kill your best friend, execution-style, but she calmly tells you about it the next day. All while sleeping with you the night before to destroy your relationship.
Have mercy on me.
I have to think the IRA connection may have not have been impressive to execs either. I know the IRA is a big deal in Ireland. But it doesn’t translate well to New York. When you’ve got New York, you usually want a villain aligned with a much bigger cause. Also, where’s the connection? What does taking out presidents in the U.S. do for Ireland. They kind of explain this but no matter how they phrased, it still felt small potato famine. Hey, I’m Irish. I can make that joke.
This is why it’s worth spending that extra time to figure this stuff out as a screenwriter. You’ve got a strong villain. But that’s only half the battle. They need a high stakes cause that draws an audience in. One of the reasons I didn’t go see Ant-Man 3 was because the villain’s stakes seemed so low. What did Kane want? Was it to get out of the Micro Realm or whatever? If so, that was not conveyed well in the trailers. So… why is it important that I see this movie?
Contrast this with Thanos. It was made clear a thousand times what this guy was trying to do and it was enormous. So I felt the stakes. I felt I needed to be there.
If there’s one other thing I would’ve pushed for in the screenplay, it would’ve been to work that Jamie-Shawn relationship more. That’s the kind of relationship you want the Feds to come to Jamie about and say “This girl is playing you. We need you to work with her so we know what she’s up to.”
Instead, Shawn shows her cards right away, which means that he already knows she’s bad. She knows he knows she’s bad. So there’s no subtext or dramatic irony in any of their conversations. If Shawn doesn’t know that Jamie is onto her, now you’ve got all these great scenes where Jamie is trying to keep his secret and Shawn might figure out that he’s onto her.
The great thing about doing it that way is you can still do the original thing you wanted to do – making Shawn this cutthroat crazy killer who bullies Jamie into doing what she wants. But you just get to that plot point later in the script. Which gives you the best of both worlds. Jamie trying to work an ignorant Shawn. And then Shawn finding out (on page 75 or something) that Jamie is onto her, and turning into a psychopath.
But even though they didn’t go in that direction, the script still has a lot going for it. The dialogue is a lot better than most of the dialogue written at that time from writers not named Tarantino. And it’s got a really good third act. So this one is definitely worth checking out.
Script link: a day in November
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[xx] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: There’s something about a big event that’s non-traditional to these types of movies that sets your movie up for a really fun third act. Cause when you think about it, all these movies end in the same place. A shootout in some warehouse or some industrial area. By building this story around a marathon, you get to build your third act around something we don’t usually see in movies. And that’s where you’re going to find those original moments. So look for EVENTS as something to build a concept around. And then you have this beautiful original third act ready to go without having to think about it.
Genre: Comedy/Horror
Premise: (from IMDB) An oddball group of cops, criminals, tourists and teens converge on a forest where a huge black bear goes on a murderous rampage after unintentionally ingesting cocaine.
About: A couple of interesting tidbits about this one. A writer named Jimmy Warden wrote it. His only writing credit is as a co-writer on The Babysitter sequel. Now, you may remember who wrote the original Babysitter, Scriptshadow’s very own unhealthy obsession in screenwriter form, Brian Duffield. Brian Duffield, by the way, is a producer on Cocaine Bear. Jimmy Warden was an actor on the original Babysitter. So, if you connect the dots, Duffield and Warden met on Babysitter, became chummy, which led to Warden co-writing the sequel, and then when Warden wrote this, the first person he took it to was Duffield. Then you have Elizabeth Banks directing (she called the choice “a potential career-killer”) and Phil Lord and Chris Miller shepherding the project (which would explain casting their Han Solo actor, Alden Ehrenreich, as Eddie).
Writer: Jimmy Warden
Details: 95 minutes
The new game plan for every movie project in Hollywood is to set box office prospects LOOOWWWW. Cocaine Bear made 23 million dollars this weekend, which, an an average box office enthusiast, you would say was LOW. But here’s the trick. Over the week, the trades talked about how Cocaine Bear would be lucky to make 18 million. LUCKY, they said!
Then you make 23 million and your movie is, all of a sudden, a superstar. But is Bear’s high/low 23 million the story of the weekend or is it Ant-Man 70% drop-off? Marvel. Dude. What are you doin’ man? Time to focus on making good movies again.
Okay, Cocaine Bear. Good? Bad? Strange? Cocainey?
Cocaine Bear is set in 1985 where some drug plane was flying along and, for whatever reason, they needed to ditch all the cocaine they were transporting so they threw it into the Tennessee woods below. Low and behold, a bear came along, ate it, got really high, and decided to go on a killing spree.
Meanwhile, two factions of people are wandering around the woods at this time. There’s Eddie and Daveed, two doofus criminals ordered to go into the woods and retrieve this cocaine for the guy who was shipping it. Daveed is the muscle and Eddie… well, Eddie is having a full on breakdown because his girlfriend just died.
Elsewhere in the Tennessee wilderness is Sari, who I guess is supposed to be a redneck but she’s the most soft-around-the-edges redneck I’ve ever seen. Her 12 year old daughter, Dee-Dee, who is also supposed to be a redneck even if she looks straight out of Central Casting, runs off into the woods and Sari must find her. She meets up with an aging female park ranger who’s trying to get it on with a young flamboyant tree scientist and is angry that Sari has just cockblocked her.
The bear lurks around, killing people left and right, in the goriest of ways. Because he has to. He’s high! But I thought cocaine suppressed appetite. Maybe I’m not supposed to think that deep. The real bear died 30 seconds after ingesting the cocaine so we’re already straining credibility here. Suspension of disbelief sushmension of sushbelief. As I review I read best sums it up, the rest of the movie, “Pretty much does exactly what you think it’s going to do.”
Cocaine Bear is what happens when the screenwriter does a pretty good job but the director fails him. Because I could see a lot of this movie working if it had funnier actors. But Elizabeth Banks really dropped the ball when it came to casting. It’s something you might miss on because none of the actors are actually that bad. But none of them are funny either.
This is a movie that needed legit comedic actors. Not these tweeners who only dip their toes in comedy once in a while. So many of these scenes depend on these actors being able to riff with each other while the bear either lurks close by or inserts himself into their activities.
I mean there’s an entire scene where the drug dealers and a cop are having a showdown with the cop stuck on top of a gazebo and the drug dealers are down on the ground where they’re in danger of being attacked by the bear. At one point the bear passes out on top of Ed, trapping him. It had to have been a 10 minute scene of all dialogue. And while the scenario was funny in spirt, the actors just weren’t able to make you – you know – LAUGH.
All I could think about was if Zack Galifianakis or Ed Helms or Adam Devine or Jonah Hill were in the movie, how much funnier the scene would’ve been. Because those guys actually understand the comedy DNA. These guys are just saying memorized lines. With the exception of Alden Ehrenreich, who was at least fully committed to his role.
A better example may be the trailer that played in front of Cocaine Bear called Mafia Mamma. It was a solid comedy premise. A suburban woman gets the call that she’s been chosen to take over her deceased grandfather’s crime business. She’d never even spoken to her grandfather so she’s completely out of her league in this world. And that’s, of course, where all the comedy comes from.
The problem is that the lead is played by Toni Collette! One of the best dramatic actresses of our time. So every single comedy beat in the trailer feels off. Cause she’s not a true comedian. All you can think is how much better the movie would be with Melissa McCarthy in the lead. Which is exactly how Cocaine Bear plays out, exact times 10 because none of the actors are right for their parts.
I mean there’s this one scene where Daveed beats up a group of druggies in a bathroom and because O’Shea Jackson is not a comedian, we have NO idea if this scene is supposed to incite fear or if we’re supposed to be laughing. There were half a dozen scenes like that.
I can’t help but think that this is the result of the drastically changing landscape of feature film comedy. It seems to have sent all our good comedy actors off in other directions because they can’t depend on that feature comedy money anymore. So maybe it’s harder to lure these people back to comedy films on the rare occasion you’re making one.
Also, the movie is tonally all-over-the-place. And, going off of Warden’s interviews, I’m going to have to blame that one on him. This from his interview with Indiewire:
“With [producers Phil] Lord and [Chris] Miller, with Elizabeth Banks, and with Universal behind it, there wasn’t much in there that I wrote that they were like, ‘You just went too far. We’re not doing that,’” he said. “It would’ve been, ‘Hey, maybe we shouldn’t have 12-year-olds do cocaine in the woods.’ Every time when I was hitting these set pieces, I was like, ‘I just need to one up. I want somebody to tell me to tone it down.’ And they never did.”
They should’ve.
Then you had the gore:
“I write a lot of movies like this, where it’s like you can take it up to a certain line, and if you straddle that line, you’re going to make people feel uncomfortable, but if you go over that line, you’re going to make people laugh,” Warden said. “So, with the gore, in a certain respect, if we toned it down at all, it may not have worked as well with the comedy.”
He’s dead wrong about this.
There’s a scene where this nice young lady ambulance driver who we like is trying to race away from the bear, ends up hitting a tree at 60 miles per hour, flies out of the windshield, straight towards the camera, tumbles around until she stops, only her face in the frame, and the life goes out from her eyes.
Yikes. This is comedy?? This shot that could’ve easily been lifted from Saving Private Ryan. For crying out loud, get your tone under control. Sheesh!
As you can see, there’s no one thing that kills Cocaine Bear. It’s all the little things. The RT score is wrong, I think, because people really want to like this movie. And so did I. This is the kind of idea that’s perfect for the spec script market. But this mish-mash of issues the writer and director inadvertently created for themselves is too much for the film to overcome. It’s messy. It’s unsettling. But most importantly, it’s not funny enough.
[ ] What the hell did I just watch?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the price of admission
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Laziness pays! Cocaine Bear was born by its writer avoiding writing.
What’s our favorite screenwriting avoidance activity? The internet! Warden was looking through the internet where he stumbled upon the Cocaine Bear story and thought it would make a perfect movie. So, the next time you decide to avoid writing, AVOID IT WITH PURPOSE! Look around for those weird stories that just might – JUST MIGHT – yield a great movie idea.
Genre: Horror/Dark Comedy
Premise: A prolific serial killer struggles to suppress her desire to kill during a weekend-long engagement party hosted by her new fiance’s wealthy, obnoxious family.
About: Our Showdown-winning logline! Rosemary won the contest with 33 and a half votes. That was 35% of the total votes.
Writer: Sam Van Meter
Details: 100 pages
Winner winner In-N-Out Dinner!
“Rosemary” is the winner of the February Logline Showdown.
Congratulations to Sam Van Meter.
Next Logline Showdown is Friday, March 24th.
Send me: Title, Genre, Logline
E-mail: carsonreeves3@gmail.com
Rules: Script must be written
Deadline: Thursday, March 23rd, at 10pm Pacific Time
Cost: Free
The big theme of today’s review is execution-dependent concepts. Some concepts are harder to pull off than others. Today is one of those concepts. In general, any time you’re working in the satire or black comedy department, it’s harder to make your screenplay work because tonal consistency is tricky in these genres.
All right, let’s get into…. ROSEMARY!
When we meet 30 year old Rosemary, she’s in the park reading a book, upside-down I may add – the book, not the person (she’s a bit of an odd duck) – when a guy comes up to her and starts chatting her up. We’re keen enough to gather this isn’t the first time she’s done this. Especially after she murders the guy, along with a biker who witnessed the kill. Yup, Rosemary is a serial killer.
Cut to some time later and we meet 33 year old Charlie Page. Charlie is a normal dude. Possibly a bit nerdy. He’s got a fun little description that sums him up: “Charlie is short, slightly scrawny. He moves with an awkwardness that is endearing to some and annoying to others.” You wouldn’t suspect that he’d be able to bag a looker like Rosemary. And yet, as it turns out, he has.
Charlie knows that he’s got a good thing going so he proposes to Rosemary. She’s unsure at first because, unbeknownst to Charlie, she realizes that if she goes down this road, she’ll have to give up reading books upside-down and, oh yeah, serial killing. But after some deliberation, she chooses Charlie.
Once Charlie’s douchebag brother, Zach, finds out about this, he tells the family, and the next thing you know, an engagement party that Charlie does not endorse has been announced. Rosemary is surprised to find that Charlie’s family is mega-rich and lives on a sprawling estate.
Right away, Rosemary doesn’t like anyone. Zach makes fun of his brother non-stop. Robyn, Charlie’s mother, can’t stop putting her son down. Rick, the father, seems like one of those self-important rich people who demand that the world revolve around them. All of these people are stirring up Rosemary’s killer tendencies.
After Rosemary discovers something about herself that changes everything, Charlie learns that his family is involved in some shady business practices and that some equally shady people will be showing up at the party to collect the money they’re owed. After Rosemary can’t hold it in any longer and starts killing people, she meets her match: A guy named Pablo who has killed a lot more people than she has. Will she survive this unforeseen predicament?
The first thing that struck me about this script was how easy it was to read. The first scene is nearly all dialogue, which helps. I always forget how important this is until I read a script like Rosemary! Only then do I look back at the last eight scripts I read and think, “Oh, that’s why those scripts were such chores.”
It’s a smart little trick in screenwriting if you find yourself writing something character-driven. Start your script off with pure dialogue and it creates this illusion that the script is flying by. Not only that, but Sam smartly adds very little description. So your eyes REALLY fly down the page.
Even beyond that, Sam has a very easy-to-read writing style. Sparse. To the point. But still with just enough flare to keep it entertaining. This is how screenwriting is supposed to be!
But while the read was always easy, the content of the read was challenging. The opening scene has Rosemary reading a book in a park. A guy approaches her. They chat. She starts walking with him. She finds out he’s married, kills him, then kills a biker who witnessed the murder.
We’ve talked about this so many times on the site that I’m tempted not to belabor the issue. But your protagonist’s first scene has such an outsized impact on how your reader sees them that if we don’t like their actions enough that we don’t want to root for them, your script is done right there. Seriously. Not a single word you write after that matters.
Rosemary kills a married guy who was hitting on her and then, also, a witness. Is the potential infidelity of a random person merit for murdering them? Of course not. It’s not the classiest move on the guy’s part. But do they deserve death? No. So that’s a strike against Rosemary. But I think I could’ve gone along with that, in a movie logic way, if that was all she did. The fact that she also killed this totally innocent biker dude who was riding by. That’s when I decided I despised this woman.
From that point forward, I just couldn’t get on board with the fun part that I was promised in the logline, which was that Rosemary would try and resist killing the most obnoxious people in the world at her engagement party. Didn’t matter how bad they were. I knew she was worse.
We actually have a great comp for this to see how to do it right. Promising Young Woman had a similar opening to Rosemary and it feels like a spiritual influence. But what was different about the famous Promising Young Woman opening? Well, for one, she doesn’t kill anyone. She actually does something both worse and more palatable. She threatens to destroy their reputation – to force them to live the rest of their life in shame. That to me, at least philosophically, is a far worse punishment. And yet it doesn’t leave us disliking the character.
Also, she had a logical motivation for doing this to people. She was striking fear in the type of guys who raped her friend, which led to that friend’s suicide, in the hopes that they wouldn’t do the same to some other girl. So she has a noble cause. And I know that cause isn’t given in the first scene. But we can tell that she’s doing this for a reason. She’s not doing this cause she’s bored. And, unfortunately, that’s the vibe I got from Rosemary. That she kills people because she’s bored.
Now, there’s a counter-argument to this that I would suspect Sam would make. Which is that Rosemary is a serial killer. She kills people. That’s how psychopaths operate. If you start giving her too much motivation, are we being truthful to her compulsion?
This is why I was musing in the comments section yesterday how execution-dependent these scripts are. It’s because there are all these fractions of tonal directions you can go in, each of which can change the entire feel of your script. We don’t have to bring a biker into this opening scene, for example. That’s a small creative choice that ends up having an outsized influence on how we perceive Rosemary.
But even beyond that, this particular setup where we have to root for a serial killer is always tricky. Cause think about it. You are asking us to ROOT FOR SOMEONE WHO KILLS PEOPLE. The variations of this that are successful have writers who put an inordinate amount of time into figuring how to make that scenario work. Serial killer Dexter kills other serial killers. So it’s easy to root for him.
I’m guessing Sam was inspired by the recent success of “You,” and that’s probably the best tonal comparison for this script. Cause Joel is a cold-hearted killer and I had no problem rooting for him. I have found that, when you write bad people, it can be helpful to give us a running-commentary of what’s going on in their head through voice over narration. It helps us better understand why they’re doing what they’re doing. Joel benefits from that for sure.
But if I was Sam’s screenplay lawyer, I would tell this Scriptshadow review guy that Joel and Rosemary are cut from the same cloth. If you’re going to root for him, why can’t you root for her? Which is what makes screenwriting and scripts like this so interesting to discuss. There are no simple answers. Plus, everybody has a different threshold for what they’re willing to accept out of a character.
The script does rebound once it hits the second act due to the fact that we don’t like these family members. So we’re curious if Rosemary’s going to dispose of them. Then it’s a fun game of waiting to see what she’s going to do. And, for the most part, I thought that worked. The climax is also worth getting to. It takes the script in a different direction than I was expecting.
My issue with it, though, was that the badness of these family characters seemed to be set up as too obvious. Zach is so over the top douchey. The mother is so needlessly cruel to her son. The dad embodies everything that is wrong with the 1-percenters. It never felt like these were real people. They felt more like caricatures designed specifically so that we would want to see them die.
Ultimately, it was that combination that didn’t work for me. A main character I didn’t like because she initially kills people who don’t deserve to die. And family victims who were so overtly designed to die that it didn’t feel like she was killing people. She was killing archetypes.
There’s one final example I wanted to highlight that exemplified my problem with the character of Rosemary. When Charlie proposes to her, her first reaction is a daydream. She imagines bashing him over the head and throwing him off a building to his death. This guy, who loves this woman. Who is in his most vulnerable moment, seeing if she’ll share the rest of her life with him, and that’s her first thought?? Why would I want to root for that person?
For “Rosemary” to work, I think Sam needs to find a way to make us care about Rosemary. The good news is, Sam is a very good writer. So I suspect that even if he can’t make this tricky story work, that his future scripts are going to be worth looking out for.
Script Link: Rosemary
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Remember that a comma, or lack of a comma, can make a line read differently. “Charles! How are you handsome?” is the line used in the script. It should be, “Charles! How are you, handsome?” Otherwise, you’re asking Charles how is it that he could possibly be handsome.
GET A PRIVATE SCRIPT CONSULTATION FROM CARSON!: Don’t like the idea of your logline or script being reviewed by the public? Get a private consult with me! I consult on loglines ($25), feature screenplays ($499) and everything in between. If you’re unsure what it is you need, e-mail me. I’ll answer everything you want to know and help you come up with a consultation that works for you. Just this past week I consulted on a synopsis, an outline, a first act, and a writer who sent me five loglines and wanted to know which one he should write as a script! So there’s a lot of flexibility if you need advice. You can set up a consult with me at carsonreeves1@gmail.com.
Is Victoria Pedretti our Rosemary?
I get a lot of e-mails after these Logline Showdowns from writers who are miffed that their loglines didn’t make the big show. While I don’t have time to respond to every one of these inquiries (I can respond to anyone who gets a logline consultation – they’re $25 – e-mail me at carsonreeves1@gmail.com), I can tell you why the loglines from this last showdown that did well, did well. And why the ones that didn’t, didn’t. In doing so, I can help you better understand why loglines get picked.
Thanks to Scott, we have a clear breakdown of the voting…
Rosemary: 33 ½ votes (35%)
A prolific serial killer struggles to suppress her desire to kill during a weekend-long engagement party hosted by her new fiance’s wealthy, obnoxious family.
Fear City: 28 votes (29%)
A serial killer has an entire city living in fear – until he is kidnapped by three petty crooks looking to make their big score. The ransom demand they make to City Hall is chillingly simple: “Give us a million dollars or we’ll let him go again”…
Proven: 18 ½ votes (19%)
When three, poverty-stricken best friends attempt to strike it rich by retrieving a dead Bigfoot from a remote river, their plan is endangered by a rapidly rising tide and the team of vicious hunters who killed the beast.
Ninestein: 11 votes (11%)
Scientists attempt to clone Albert Einstein to save the earth from an incoming asteroid, but when the process goes awry they are left with nine clones, each just a fraction as smart as the original.
Olympus Park: 3 votes (3%)
When a naive businessman unveils a theme park of reincarnated historical figures, he must convince a ruthless FBI agent that his attractions are safe when a clone of Elvis Presley appears violent.
Tide Pool: 3 votes (3%)
Two good Samaritans, with their relationship on the brink of collapse, find themselves in a fight for survival while attempting to rescue a juvenile great white shark that has become stranded in a rock pool during low tide.
Rosemary
Rosemary was the very first logline I found in the submissions that I knew would make the Showdown. And, after picking the rest of the loglines, I knew it was the best logline of the bunch. Why was it the best logline? A few reasons. One, loglines tend to pop more when they have irony. You have a serial killer at an engagement party. Serial killers are supposed to slink around the dark rainy streets of the worst parts of town, scouting potential victims. They’re not supposed to be in happy fun places like engagement parties. The serial killer is also a woman, which is not traditional. So that further helps the idea feel different. But the aspect of the logline that puts it over the top are the words “struggles” and “obnoxious.” We’ve all had those dark not entirely authentic thoughts, at some point in our lives, of offing the really obnoxious people we encounter. So to be in a party full of these people? And to have this serial killer act as our wish-fulfillment vessel? Just like that you’ve made your serial killer protagonist sympathetic. It’s, by far, the most clever setup of the bunch. And, if it’s executed well, you’ve got a slam-dunk movie on your hands. We’ll find out tomorrow if the execution is as strong as the logline when I review the script.
Fear City
Fear City was the sexiest concept of the bunch. So I knew it was going to do well. It had that big flashy “high concept” pitch that more writers used to know how to construct during the days of weekly million dollar spec sales. However, I understand why it lost to Rosemary. The logline isn’t nearly as elegant. You’ve got two sentences instead of one. While it’s not required that your logline be only one sentence, the best writers tend to know how to distill their idea down to one sentence. I definitely feel that those two sentences gave the logline a slightly clunkier feel, which I can attest to personally since I had to read it twice to make sure I got it. Without fail, whenever a logline is clunky, the script is clunky as well. So there may have been some hesitation to vote for the script for that reason. I might still review the script at some point and be proven wrong. We’ll see.
Proven
Proven was the biggest wild card of the bunch. I knew that Rosemary and Fear City were probably going to beat it but I didn’t know where it would land in the remaining four. I do think you get a leg up in your concept if you’re dealing with these popular culture legends. Bigfoot. Atlantis. The Bermuda Triangle. The Loch Ness monster. They’re IP-gold. They give your concept an immediate shine. But as I told the writer via e-mail, it’s a tough sell to build your movie around a dead Bigfoot. He’s such an iconic figure that when you present a story around him that provides no hope – he’s dead and that’s it – a portion of your potential audience won’t be onboard. The writer was adamant that doing so wasn’t right for his movie (he pointed out that there’s a dead young boy in Stand By Me and we went along with it) and I respect every writer’s right to write the story they want to write. But I suspect that if there was a twist, after they pick up Bigfoot, that he’s actually clinging to life? And that their initial motivation – to make money off the dead body – changes to trying to save its life? That this logline would’ve won the competition. Feel free to offer your thoughts on whether I’m right or wrong in the comments!
Ninestein
Ninetstein was my little underdog pick for the Showdown. When it comes to comedy loglines, you want the reader to physically laugh when they read your logline. And that’s exactly what happened in the case of Ninestein. But my big fear was that Ninestein was an idea that only worked as a logline and not as a movie. Which I noticed several of you picked up on. Cause when you think about it, how do you create 9 dumbed-down Einsteins that are all unique? Usually in these “multiple versions of the same character” movies, there’s one super dumb version. But here, you’d need nine super-dumb versions, and then you’d need to somehow make them all different form one another. I just don’t know how you do that. I’m still curious about this logline though and I may review the script at some point.
Olympus Park
I went back and forth about whether to include Olympus Park. The writer’s been persistent but never annoying, which is something I admire. And there is something potentially interesting about a park full of cloned historical figures. But the reason I’ve resisted this logline for so many other showdowns is because of the Elvis part. As soon as Elvis is mentioned, the reader has a big fat “WTF??” reaction. As tons of you have pointed out, it’s a bizarre non-sequitur that feels disconnected from the first part of the logline. Why not have Genghis Khan go crazy? Isn’t that a much more logical conflict? I sensed that the writer was going to get beat up on that and he did. I noticed that he’s since stated that focusing on Elvis in the logline was a mistake because the story is more nuanced than that. But I don’t know. I still think he’s taking a fun idea and not focusing on the right elements to bring out that fun. Which is what all of us should be doing. When we come up with a fun idea, ask ourselves how to best take advantage of that idea.
Tide Pool
The reason I picked this logline was three-fold. One, sharks always sell. They will never stop making shark movies. Two, the writer was doing something different with his shark concept. And three, I liked the irony. Instead of trying to avoid a shark, we’re trying to help a shark. With all that being said, I knew this was going to finish last for several reasons. One, can we please stop capitalizing words that don’t require capitalization (Samaritans). That’s a huge red flag right there. Two, it sounds like we have a kid shark here? In other words, you’ve made your shark *less* dangerous? That’s typically not a good strategy when coming up with a movie idea. Third, a lot of you pointed out this was happening in a little miniature pool, giving it a very low-stakes feel. And finally, it’s not clear why they’re in a fight for survival. I’m not even clear on if this shark is dangerous since it’s a young and, therefore, smaller shark. It also sounds like it’s easy to stand in this area? So wouldn’t maneuvering away from the shark be easy? I could keep going. But the point is, when this many questions pop up during a logline, potential readers end up bailing. Their attitude is, “If you can’t even be clear in a 30-word logline, why would I expect you to be clear telling a 20,000 word story?” This is why it’s so important to get feedback on your loglines because people like me can tell you this before you burn opportunities!
So what are the lessons learned today?
- Irony is your friend when it comes to loglines.
- The sexier the concept, the more people will overlook the weaknesses in your logline.
- When it comes to beloved anything (in this case, Bigfoot), the audience wants there to be hope involved.
- Beware of loglines that work great as loglines but start to break down when imagined as movies.
- Avoid pulling plot points out of left field. Just cause it makes sense to you doesn’t mean it will make sense to others. Get feedback so you know it makes sense!
- If you have a dangerous and, therefore, compelling situation, don’t look for ways to make it less dangerous.
I will see you back here tomorrow for my script review of winning logline, Rosemary!!!
NEXT LOGLINE SHOWDOWN
The next Logline Showdown is happening on Friday, March 24th. If you want to enter you need to get me your loglines by Thursday, March 23rd, 10pm Pacific Time.
Send me: Title, Genre, Logline
E-mail: carsonreeves3@gmail.com
Rules: Script must be written
Deadline: Thursday, March 23rd, at 10pm Pacific Time
Cost: Free
GET A PRIVATE SCRIPT CONSULTATION FROM CARSON!: Don’t like the idea of your logline or script being reviewed by the public? Get a private consult with me! I consult on loglines ($25), feature screenplays ($499) and everything in between. If you’re unsure what it is you need, e-mail me. I’ll answer everything you want to know and help you come up with a consultation that works for you. Just this past week I consulted on a synopsis, an outline, a first act, and a writer who sent me five loglines and wanted to know which one he should write as a script! So there’s a lot of flexibility if you need advice. You can set up a consult with me at carsonreeves1@gmail.com.
Genre: Satire/Comedy
Premise: Shunned by elite society as a member of the gig economy, a sociopathic dog walker infiltrates an exclusive L.A. community with designs of reaching the top of the neighborhood’s social ladder.
About: This script finished in the top 10 of last year’s Black List with 20 votes. This appears to be the brothers’ first big screenplay.
Writers: Briggs and Wes Watkins
Details: 100 pages
Lili Reinhart for Dylan?
A few people told me this wasn’t very good. But it does come from a sub-genre that I like. So we’ll see what happens. Oh yeah, a quick note. This script has a lot of twists and turns. It is best enjoyed reading it yourself rather than reading my synopsis. Because my synopsis WILL reveal spoilers.
24 year old Dylan is squatting in a Hollywood apartment, not doing anything with her life that I could discern other than her hobby of sneaking into rich peoples’ houses and pretending that she lives there until the owners come home and she has to sneak out.
One night, while hanging out in a Beachwood house, a dog-walker comes in and catches her there. The dog-walker doesn’t report her though. Instead, she tells Dylan that if she wants to sneak into peoples’ houses, she should walk dogs.
This is a lightbulb moment for Dylan, who immediately visits a dog park the next day and notices a beautiful woman named Jessica walking an even more beautiful dog. Jessica’s dog is the clear star of this dog park and so Dylan tries to befriend her to see if she can work for her.
When Jessica blows her off, Dylan follows her up to a Griffith Park hill trail, kills her, then kicks her dead body over the cliff. She takes the dog, heads back to the owners home, and informs the couple living there, Shira and Jacob, that Jessica has moved on and she will now be walking the dog.
Dylan does this for a while until the dog attacks and nearly kills another dog who happens to be walked by… the very girl who caught her in the first house and told her about this whole dog-walking gig. Dylan makes a run for it but eventually, our initial dog-walker, whose name is Anna, finds her.
She makes casual chit-chat with Dylan BEFORE KILLING HER!!! That’s right. Another murder. Who wrote this? Bing ChatGPT? And we’re only on page 45! With Dylan now dead, we start following Anna, who wants to do what Dylan was doing who wanted to do what Jessica was doing.
Anna makes friends with some other dog-walkers but when they suspect that she may have some information on the death of Jessica, she goes into self-preservation mode. She then makes a bold move, blackmailing Shira and Jacob, knowing that if they don’t consider her dangerous, she’s done. Will Anna’s plan work? Or will she end up like her predecessors?
In the words of the great Iggy Pop, “I’m a real wild one. And I like a wild fun. In a world gone crazy. Everything seems hazy. I’m a wild one. Oh yeah, I’m a wild one.”
This was a wild one, folks.
I’m still not even sure what I read. But I wouldn’t call it un-entertaining. Maybe uneven.
Whenever you’re trying to write sophisticated satire – which I’m pretty sure is what this script is – you have to be smarter than everyone in the room. There can’t be any clunky moments or frayed edges. We really have to feel, as the reader, that you are in total command of this commentary.
I didn’t feel that way. It started with the opening page.
The “whatever” is unnecessary. “Green as cash” is not a great visual simile. The road “slims and winds.” “Slims” is an awkward word to use there. Hidden behind walls of “Indian Laurel.” I don’t know what that means. Is there a famous Indian girl named Laurel who’s cloned herself and stands outside every house in Beachwood? “Gain a zero on their price tags” is an, arguably, try-hard line. “As we smear by them” is a strange description. I have to strain to imagine it.
I’m probably being too hard on this page but it definitely prioritizes style over clarity and that’s something I never endorse. Clarity must always come first in screenwriting. So, right from the start, I was wary.
Another problem is that I could never figure Dylan out. Since her whole life was a lie, I didn’t have anything to grab onto, relate to, or care about. There was so much distance between me and her that I never felt close enough to her story.
Why is she doing this? Where did this compulsion come from? Why is she squatting around in Hollywood and sneaking into peoples’ houses? We don’t know. We’re asked to buy that at face value and that’s not how storytelling works. We have to know why humans are doing the things they’re doing in order to become invested and interested.
A good example is the movie, Emily The Criminal. In that screenplay, the writer makes sure to take us through Emily’s struggles of trying to get a job, subsequently working a job she hates. So that when she’s given this opportunity to make money by stealing, we know why she’s doing it.
Meanwhile, I barely know Dylan and, out of nowhere, she kills this dog-walker and kicks her off a cliff and I’m just supposed to go with it?
Of course, I eventually realized why this was the case. Dylan wasn’t written to make it through the story. She gets killed. Which was a huge shock. But it would’ve resonated more had we felt some attachment to her.
To the Watkins credit, there’s some fun stuff going on here with the way the characters feed into the story. We meet this random dog-walker in that opening scene – the one who catches Dylan in the home, then we forget about her. Only to meet her again, 50 pages later, and then she becomes the main character.
Dylan also meets this character named Noah in the dog park early on the story. He disappears. But then, when Anna takes the lead role in the story, she meets Noah as well and also befriends him. So it was cool how these characters were woven into this weird tapestry of a screenplay.
But I just don’t know what to make of this thing. There are so many creative choices that make you go, “hmmmmm….” There’s an entire scene dedicated to expressing a dog’s anal glands in front of a small audience that felt more like it belonged in a 1998 Farrelly Brothers movie than in this sophisticated satire.
And then there are only really short dialogue scenes the whole movie before 80 pages in where we get this gigantic six page dialogue scene that comes out nowhere. Some of you might not think that’s a big deal. But screenplays have a rhythm. And if you establish that rhythm only to completely upend it, it’s jarring. The reader isn’t sure what to make of it.
However, I will say this. This script is the most unpredictable script in the Top 10 of last year’s Black List. It’s weird. It’s kinda fun. Even though it has problems, it does leave an impression on you. For those reasons, I think it’s worth reading.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: I like when writers keep their character in a state of desperation. It forces the character to constantly act and solve problems, which often results in interesting dramatic situations. Just as Dylan gets the dog-walking job with Jacob and Shira, she gets kicked out of the apartment she’s squatting at. So now she doesn’t have any place to live. This places a question in the reader’s mind – What is she going to do now? – that compels them to keep reading to find out the answer. If she never would’ve gotten kicked out, that’s one less reason to care what happens next.
