Is 42.6 Years, from the co-writer of “The Menu,” the next “Passengers?” (The script not the movie)
Genre: Sci-Fi/Rom-Com
Premise: After waking up from a failed experimental lifesaving procedure in which he was cryogenically frozen for 42.6 years, a young man realizes he wants his ex-girlfriend back. He’ll have to overcome the fact that while he hasn’t aged a day, she’s lived an entire life without him.
About: This script finished on last year’s Black List and comes from Seth Reiss. You might recognize Reiss’s name as the co-writer of The Menu. He also wrote another weird script I reviewed on the site called, “A Big Bold Beautiful Journey.” The movie will star Andy Samberg (who came up with the concept) and Jean Smart, who stars in, “Hacks.” Craig Gillespie, the director of “I, Tonya,” and more recently, “Dumb Money,” will direct.
Writer: Seth Reiss (story by Reiss and Andy Samberg)
Details: 122 pages
I have a question for you. What’s the difference between a romantic comedy and a comedy with romance?
Is Jerry Maguire a romantic comedy or a comedy?
I thought about that after reading this script. I think it’s a romantic comedy but I’m not sure. You might be able to convince me that it’s a comedy.
Oh, by the way, we’re getting close to my year end RE-RANKING of the previous year’s Black List. This is where I tell you guys what the real rankings should be. Not the fakey rankings that all the agents and managers manipulate.
I’m not going to get to read every script on the list. There are some I know it will be impossible for me to like. But I’m curious which ones I should read before making the list. If you’ve read any of these scripts listed below and liked them, please tell me in the comments section, as I’ll want to check them out.
Himbo
Black Dogs
Eternity
The Seeker
The Trap
Caravan
Cheat Day
The Homestead
The Twelve Dancing Princesses
I Love You Now and Forever
You’re My Best Friend
Okay, onto today’s review!
It’s fifty years in the future, New York City, and 30-something Ben is breaking up with 30-something Ruth. Don’t get Ben wrong. He still loves Ruth. But Ruth’s issue is that she is the most unemotional person on the planet. The woman doesn’t have an emotive bone in her body. And it’s driven Ben crazy.
Immediately after Ben dumps Ruth, he finds out he has a rare disease and will die within a year. So he agrees to a cryogenic stasis – for exactly 42.6 years – in the hopes that when he wakes up, the disease will be cured. So that’s what Ben does. He freezes himself for 42.6 years.
Unfortunately for Ben, when he’s unfrozen, they still haven’t figured out how to cure his disease. Cured cancer, though! So that’s cool. For the folks with cancer. Feeling all nostalgic, Ben goes to visit Ruth, who’s now in her 70s, and is pleasantly surprised to learn that she’s single. So Ben makes a move.
The two start hanging out together again. They even have dinner with Ruth’s jealous ex-husband and her adult son. But Ruth is still having issues emoting. And it’s, once again, driving poor Ben nuts. Can’t this chick give him anything??
Eventually, Ruth learns that *SHE* has an incurable disease. Ben is shocked when she decides to use the exact same cryogenic procedure that he did. Which means she’ll be gone for 40+ years. Ben lets her have it. What is the point of doing this?? Why not spend her last moments here with him? But she’s defiant. She’s freezing herself. Unless… unless Ben can convince her with one last grand proposal.
The title of this script tells you a lot about what to expect.
It stems from the doctor explaining to Ben how long he needs to be in cryo-sleep before his disease is cured. When Ben presses the doctor on how he can possibly know it will take exactly 42.6 years, the doctor concedes that he doesn’t know. It could very well be cured in half that time. But he wants to play it safe.
Much of the script plays out with similar ambiguous logic. Ben glides through the randomness of this future where every apartment comes mandatory with its own French chef hologram. This sort of ambiguity usually bothers me but, somehow, Reiss makes it work.
I’ll often reflect on why something bothers me so much in one script while not bothering me in another. A lot of it, I presume, has to do with the way the writer writes. Reiss is so comfortable writing in this casual style, so confident, that I just believed it. It didn’t feel sloppy. It felt like a deliberate choice.
The humor here is specific and, just like all comedies, you’re either going to like it and, therefore, like the script, or roll your eyes and think the script is terrible. Here’s a little dialogue sampler. This is when Ben comes over to Ruthie’s house for dinner and meets her ex-husband and son.
It was probably inevitable that I would like 42.6 years seeing as it nails one of my concept prerequisites: whatever genre you write in, come up with an idea that allows you to explore it from a fresh angle. Here, we have a romantic comedy whose premise sets up a scenario whereby a 30-something man is dating a 70-something woman.
How many romantic comedies have you seen with that setup before? There’s Harold and Maude. There’s the cinematic classic, “Hello, My Name is Doris.” And I think that’s it. And this concept sounds way more interesting than both of those.
What surprised me about the script is that it manages to tackle pretty deep subject matter (getting old, dying) without ever getting depressing. The setup really helps in that sense. It’s so goofy that it offsets a lot of these conversations that, if they were had in a traditional movie setting, would feel depressing as hell. Yet “I’m going to die at the end of the year and there’s nothing I can do about it” registers only as melancholy in 42.6 years, since it’s often sandwiched between jokes.
The writer does make one unfortunate mistake, which is that Ruthie is borderline impossible to root for. She’s so selfish. She gives poor Ben nothing. Ever. Not even an, “I love you.” Here’s a perfect example. Before the dinner scene with Ben and her son and her ex-husband, Ruth is trying to figure out what to make. This is her thinking: “I know Ben likes Italian. So I’m thinking sushi so he doesn’t feel too comfortable.” This woman is straight up cruel.
It’s that age-old screenwriting dilemma of creating a character with negative traits that need to change but not making them so negative that we dislike them. It’s a fine line to walk. I always say, if you’re unsure whether your character is on the right side of that line, give them one extra positive trait for insurance purposes. For example, Reiss could’ve made Ruth funny. If I’m laughing at the things that she says, I’m much more likely to overlook her selfishness.
In the end, I liked 42.6 Years. It’s a tad too melancholy, particularly in its final act. But there’s more good here than bad. Ben is easy to root for. It’s a unique concept. Reiss did an understated but effective job of world-building here. For my money, I prefer the other high concept sci-fi comedy on this list – Dying For You – But 42.6 Years is pretty good.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Your script should be 110 pages or less. Ideally, it should be between 100-110 pages. That’s the sweet spot. However, if your script is all dialogue, like this one, you get 10 extra pages. That’s why I’m completely fine with this script being 122 pages. It was all dialogue so it read fast. Here’s a pro-tip, though. If you’re going to do this, make sure you’re giving us ONLY DIALOGUE starting page 1. Cause the second the reader sees that number – 122 pages – they will hate you. I’m serious. They will. They will grumble and shift around and mutter to themselves things like, “Who does this writer think he is?” But if you start right away with straight dialogue so that their eyes fly down the page, they’ll forget all about hating you. And if you do your job and write a great script, they’ll love you.
