Genre: Sports Drama/Sort of true story?
Premise: A struggling American sports agent mired in debt flies to Cuba to recruit their most famous baseball player.
About: This script finished on both The Black List and Hit List last year. It comes from the writers of BLACKKKLANSMAN, two New Jersey natives who were childhood best friends.
Writers: Charlie Wachtel & David Rabinowitz
Details: 120 pages

Oscar_Isaac

I’m guessing the first call for the part of Steve is going to this guy.

Didn’t they already make this movie? Wasn’t Jon Hamm in it?

Look, let’s be real. Sports dramas are tough sells. And they’re even tougher sells when they center around baseball. So props to these writers not only for taking a risk with this genre, but getting their script on both the Black List and Hit List.

But the one thing I tell writers who write sports dramas is, “Unless it’s boxing, make it a true story.” So I was happy that today’s writing team did that. Or… did they? As I read through Bolsa Negra, I spent much of the script confused. There were several real life baseball figures in the script, but I think this entire story is made up. That feels kinda cheap considering this is a really intense story. People die. And if you’re mining fake death emotion under the guise of real life, that’s as dirty as the shady world you’re covering.

But anyway…

It’s 1996 and 38 year old Steve Santos is the Cuban-American Jerry Maguire. Without the slick suit. Or the nice car. Or anything of value, to be honest. Steve is barely able to make ends meet. Which is why he has to get creative.

Steve has his eye on someone named El Coco (“The Boogeyman”), the best player in Cuba, a hotbed for amazing baseball talent. However, most of those players end up staying in Cuba because it’s impossible to get them out (this is when the U.S. and Cuba were mortal enemies). But Steve naively heads there anyway, thinking he can throw a few Benjamins around and he and El Coco will be back on the red-eye.

As you might expect, it doesn’t go that way.

First, Steve has to pay his Cuban guide to help him get around. Then he has to convince El Coco to actually come with him, which is far from easy since he needs to bring his entire family along or they get thrown in jail. Then he needs to meet someone named “The Professor,” who can facilitate the complicated process of getting them off the island. Then he has to find a boat and a driver. Every step is complicated by the fact that THEY ALL WANT MONEY. And Steve ran out of money the day he showed up.

Somehow, Steve gets El Coco and his family on the boat and they head to Cancun, Mexico (they can’t go straight to the U.S. since baseball regulations will put El Coco in the draft, where he’d make MUCH LESS money – if he comes to America through Mexico, El Coco will be a free agent – and that’s where he can negotiate a 20-million dollar contract).

Once in Mexico, they meet up with the professor’s Mexican contacts, a harmless older couple. WHO THEN PROCEED TO KILL STEVE’S BOAT DRIVER! So, yeah, I guess not so harmless. When they find out how much El Coco is worth, they up their fee 2000% (yes, three zeroes). They then quarantine Steve, El Coco, and the family, while Steve gets on the phone with six major league teams and negotiates the deal of his life. Literally.

Outside of the bait-and-switch “true story,” this was fun. From the way it was structured to the way it was executed, the writers have a strong feel for the intricacies of the craft. For example, once we get to Cuba, they give their hero a series of mini-goals. First Steve has to convince El Coco to come. Then he has to secure a facilitator. Then he has to find a boat.

Now remember, when it comes to mini-goals, you don’t want everything to go smoothly. You need PROBLEMS to arise. These story disruptions add a spontaneity to your screenplay that’s exciting to read. For example, while Steve was getting his ducks lined up, a corrupt Cuban officer showed up at his place and demanded a cut or else he would kill Steve. This forced Steve to accelerate the process, upping the script’s intensity considerably.

As you know, good plotting is great. But good plotting with strong characters is better. And I liked that Steve was fallible. This was not the most likable guy. He was cheap. He was sketchy. He’s making deals left and right he knows he can’t pay up on. You get a little extra screenplay street cred when your protagonist is an anti-hero. Most screenwriters are out there desperately combing websites (like this one, admittedly) for ways to make their hero the most likable person on the planet. And that’s because when you’re writing for mainstream Hollywood, it’s virtually required that your hero be likable. There’s a certain “Eff U” quality to a writer who bucks that trend. And Steve is definitely an anti-hero.

But the thing that really sets this script apart is its climactic scene. You have a sports agent in a seedy Mexican hotel room with a gun to his head negotiating on the phone with six major league baseball teams. The “harmless older couple” are putting a bullet in his noggin if the signing bonus isn’t the number they agreed on. It’s one heck of a ride and a great finale.

My big beef with the script is that it didn’t incorporate Steve’s background into the story location at all. Steve’s parents were Cuban but he’d never been to Cuba. Steve goes to Cuba for the story. Yet there’s no conflict whatsoever with his heritage. And I know this because the story doesn’t change one bit if the character is American and Caucasian.

There’s no screenwriting law that says when a character is from a country he’s never been to and the story takes place in that country, that he has to have some conflicted relationship with the place. But doesn’t it seem odd to totally ignore that reality? It screams that you could’ve gone deeper but you didn’t want to do the work.

And I get it. Writing a screenplay is hard. You might spend one draft putting everything into the plot. Another draft getting the dialogue to sing. Another draft giving all the supporting characters more oomph. Another draft fixing all of the slow spots in the script. And on and on. And then, after all that, someone says, “You know what would make this even better? Is if he had conflict with the country he never embraced.” And you’re like, yeah, that would be better. But you know what? I’m effing done. I don’t want to write any more drafts.

Well I’m here to tell you to write that extra draft. Because the competition out there is insane. Writing something that sticks out is one of the hardest things you’re ever going to do. So if you only give 90%, that’s probably not going to be good enough. Anybody can give almost all of themselves and create something good. But only the writers who give 100% of themselves are going to create something great.

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

What I learned: “Houston, we have a problem.” One of my favorite screenwriting tips is “We have a problem.” If things are getting boring in your story, have one of your characters say, “We have a problem.” You don’t need to know what the problem is when you write that line. Whatever comes to mind afterwards, use it. Problems are exciting. They take your story in a new direction. They force your hero to act. And they usually up the stakes. So it’s instant script heroin.