Genre: Thriller
Premise: After a botched bank heist leaves nineteen people locked inside a state-of-the-art vault, the FBI recruits the world’s foremost box-man from federal prison so he can break them out before they suffocate inside.
About: This finished with 7 votes on last year’s Black List and was one of my personal highest-rated concepts on the list. You can check out my thoughts on every Black List entry here. Screenwriter Adam Yorke has one credit, a 2021 Spanish thriller about a blind woman called, “See For Me.”
Writer: Adam Yorke
Details: 118 pages

When I started screenwriting, there was one word that annoyed me more than any other. It was the word “craft.” I’d occasionally spot it inside a screenwriter interview, often from some ancient screenwriter who’d get up on his high horse and pretentiously claim that screenwriting was a “craft” and that in order to get good at it, you needed to master the “craft.”

I rolled my eyes so many times at the mention of that word, they have the rarest form of PTSD – retinal PTSD – from excessive whiplash.

But now myself and my eyes love the word.

We love it because we *understand* it.

And you’re about to understand it too. But first we have to summarize the plot of Boxman.

After learning about the history of safe-cracking, we meet Frank Pierson, in prison, a man who is clearly going to be played by George Clooney if the writer has anything to say about it. Vault-cracker Frank is in prison for 30 years because of a diamond heist he orchestrated.

But Frank’s about to get a lucky break. At one of the biggest banks in town, some Russians have broken into the bank’s top-tier vault. They stole the money then locked all 19 employees inside. As it so happens, the only two people who can open the vault, who must do it from the outside, are part of that 19. Oh, and, the airtight vault has only 5 hours of air for 19 people.

FBI Field Office head, Kay Hollis, is brought down to the site and realizes quickly that they have to think outside the box. He makes the call to bring in Pierson, who will only do it if he’s immediately freed once he gets the vault open. There’s a lot of red tape up at the governor’s office but time is of the essence so they get the deal done.

Frank assesses the situation and develops a complicated multi-step several-hour plan to break through this annoying vault. As he goes about his job, we learn that Vitaly, the man who ordered this robbery, is upset that his son was killed during the escape, and wants revenge.

Who he wants revenge against adds another compilation to the proceedings. You see, there’s an inside man in the vault. One of these 19 was working with the robbers and Vitaly. They ultimately alerted the cops, which is how Vitaly’s son was killed. So Vitaly wants to make sure Frank doesn’t open that vault. If he does, the inside man/woman will live!

Oh, and if that isn’t enough, Vitaly worked with Frank on that diamond heist that put him in prison! Talk about onions here. This script’s got layers!! In the end, it’s still about if Frank can crack the most uncrackable safe in the world in time to save 19 lives. And once Frank realizes that he’s been given the wrong schematics to the safe, that reality is looking hella unlikely!

As I was saying.

When I read a script, one of the big things I’m looking for is a screenwriter who can carve together thoughtful sequences. It’s not just “Cold Open Scene,” “Character Intro Scene,” “Conflict Scene,” “Inciting Incident Scene.”

There’s a *craft* to it. There’s a creativity, thoughtfulness, and a “connectedness,” that’s been placed into the sequence. Boxman’s opening sequence is a great example of that.

We start in 1500 B.C. If anyone here saw the logline and thought we’d be starting in 1500 B.C., raise your hands?

Show of no hands? That’s what I thought.

That alone places this above 90% of applicants. You’re giving us something that we don’t typically get in this genre. Then, we travel through the history of lock-making and lock-picking. This isn’t entirely creative. Any writer can come up with a history lesson.

But Yorke adds a STORY to the history lesson. After we’ve established the key years in lock-making, he provides a story about a man who created an un-pickable lock and challenged the world to pick it. We watch (and listen, via a man’s voice over) people try but fail to pick the lock again and again. Over the course of decades.

Finally, a man is able to pick the lock. We then marry that image with the image of the man providing the voice over. This is Frank. And when we pull back, we see that he’s in prison. At the visitor’s window. Talking to his daughter. He’s the one who’s been giving this history lesson, and he’s been giving it to her.

Think about that for a second. We get the lock-picking history lesson. It climaxes in a fun story. And then we connect it with our hero, who’s not just casually living his life, but is rather in prison. We also get some great exposition (about locks) and backstory (about family) along the way.

That whole sequence required CRAFT. It required thought. It required planning. It required creativity.

An average writer would’ve started this script with Frank talking to his visiting daughter and telling her he loved her or something. That’s what the writer WHO HAS NO CRAFT would’ve done. Good writers craft sequences.

Ironically, Yorke follows this great opening with the worst section of the entire script. A big gigantic bulk character introduction.

Anybody here think, without looking, that they could pass a ‘who’s who’ test on all those characters? Yet the writer seems to think we can.

This is every screenwriter. Every screenwriter has strengths and weaknesses. Some of those weaknesses are the worst kind. They’re BLINDSPOTS. The writer doesn’t even know they have them so they can’t fix them. This is why it’s important to get a screenplay consultation every once in a while. You need someone telling you you have these problems.

Once we get through another 15 pages or so, and we hear the key characters’ names over and over again, we start to know who’s who and enjoy the script again. And it’s a good script! It’s one of those scripts that has enough going for it that it’s above the “lottery.” For those who don’t know, I call the giant pool of 50,000 scripts in Hollywood that are average to pretty good “the lottery.” Because the only way you sell one of those scripts is pure luck.

The attention to detail, the deep research that went into the safe-cracking, the multilayered story, the clever subplots (there’s an “inside man” in the vault), and the fun central plotline (will this safe-cracker both save 19 lives AND free himself from prison) combined for a script that is worthy of producing.

The only thing holding the script back is the ridiculous character count. I always complain about big character counts but it’s not a criticism without merit. Having too many characters isn’t just annoying. It severely cripples the read. Cause you’re never clear on who everyone is. So you’re only half-understanding major plot moments.

If you don’t know that Character X just double-crossed Character Y because both characters were introduced quickly then disappeared for twenty pages before being brought back again… you’re missing major plot moments. Professional writers know this stuff. I’m imploring young writers to learn it as well. It makes your scripts so much more readable when you understand the limitations of how many characters and subplots a reader can track.

Finally, a reminder about the importance of CRAFT. Not just with your opening scene. Do it throughout your script. Show us that you are creatively crafting sequences that clearly have a lot of thought put into them. Cause guess what? We know when you don’t put any effort into a scene. If you think you get away with that stuff? I promise you don’t.

I just consulted on a script three days ago where I had a come-to-Jesus moment with the writer. He phoned in a major set piece. I told him, “You don’t get to do that.” Readers see that and they don’t just lose faith in the script. They lose faith IN YOU. Which is way worse. Cause it means they don’t want to read anything from you anymore.

And yet it’s one of the easiest aspects of screenwriting to get good at. Cause all you have to do is put in EFFORT. We can tell when you do it. We can tell when you don’t.

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

What I learned: Learning how to introduce lots of characters quickly and MEMORABLY is one of the single clearest signs of a legitimate Hollywood screenwriter. This is one of the things they know how to do that amateurs or young repped writers struggle with. Knowing how to set a lot of people up quickly so that the reader remembers all of them? That’s a $100,000 skill right there. It’s too wide-ranging of a topic to teach in one “What I learned,” but it amounts to a combination of naming your characters smartly (so that their names sound like who they are yet not in an on-the-nose way), giving them a quick strong action that defines them, and giving them dialogue that’s both unique to them and memorable. Do that and you can introduce TONS of characters.