Genre: Biopic/True Story
Premise: Based on a true story, a failed New York model transitions into the lucrative world of weed-dealing.
About: Today’s script comes from Elyse Hollander, who you may remember as the writer of 2016’s #1 Black List script, Blonde Ambition, about Madonna’s early days in New York. I refused to read that one for two years because a movie about Madonna sounded boring, but it ended up being great. Unfortunately, the movie will never get made. It makes Madonna look bad. Maybe that’s why Elyse wrote another script, so she can actually get something produced. This one finished with 13 votes on last year’s Black List, which barely got it into the top 20. — For those of you who read my newsletter, I told you last month to seek out a good article to adapt. Well, today, we have another example of what happens when you do that. Queens of the Stoned Age was adapted from a GQ article.
Writer: Elyse Hollander (based on the article written by Suketu Mehta)
Details: 114 pages
So far, nearly everything outside the top 10 of the 2018 Black List has been mediocre. That’s not a surprise. There are usually 5-6 really good scripts a year and everything else lands between “just good enough to get votes” and “mildly entertaining.”
We’ve had some intense debates in previous Black List threads about how arbitrary landing on the Black List is. One of our popular commenters says there isn’t a single script in history that hasn’t made the Black List that deserved to. That in all cases, the scripts that made the Black List are better than every single amateur screenplay. I tend to take a more fluid approach to the argument. I believe that 85-90% of the scripts that make the Black List are better than any amateur scripts out there. But that the last 10-15% could easily be replaced by some of the better amateur scripts floating around town.
So what do those 90% do that you’re not doing? They typically do one thing really well and everything else is at least above average. So they have a really great plot, or they’re good with character, or they’re really good with dialogue, or they have a strong voice. And then there’s nothing else that’s terrible in them. Because that’s what I find dooms a lot of amateur scripts. They’ll do something well, but then the dialogue will be abysmal. Or the characters are so boring. Or the plot is embarrassingly static.
This is why I tell everyone to learn the basics. You can’t cheat that. If you try and skip over something, it’ll come back to haunt you. And you won’t know because you can’t identify a mistake if you’ve never been taught that it’s a mistake. I see this with character writing all the time. The characters are soooooo boring because the writer never learned what you have to do to write impactful characters (conflict within the character, a strong introduction, active, a personality that pops, interesting conflict-filled relationships, making sure they arc over the course of a story).
This is why you should never stop learning. There’s always stuff to get better at, and if you do that long enough, you won’t have any weaknesses. From there, all you need to do is find a great concept and write at least one great character, and you’re in.
So what does Elyse Hollander do better than most writers? Let’s find out.
Honey is a model on the wrong side of her early-20s. She ain’t been booking gigs lately. And she actually owes her modeling agency a ton of money for sponsoring her. If Honey doesn’t come up with a plan quick, she’ll be one of the many failed girls who come to New York and leave two years later with their tail between their legs.
But Honey is different. She’s got a plan. She figures she can start selling weed to people in her friend’s club. Her advantage over other dealers? Guys like buying weed from hot chicks better than smelly fat dudes. Honey’s plan is so successful, she’s soon hiring fellow failed-model friends to help her. When the club closes down for tax evasion, the girls take their racket to the streets, or more accurately, direct delivery.
Soon the operation gets big enough that Honey needs to buy more product, which means dealing with bigger people. This is when she meets Rich, a trust fund son who likes to dabble on the wrong side of the law. This guy, Rich, starts selling Honey her product, but not without expecting something in return. Honey does everything in her power to rebuff Rich’s advances, but at a certain point, it’s give in or bail out. She chooses to bail. And that makes Rich an angry man.
Honey goes to another dealer, Dell, but is forced to buy the product on credit. This turns out to be a horrible choice, as Rich steals all of it in an act of revenge. Dell then comes to Honey and tells her that if she doesn’t pay him back within 48 hours, her friends are going to end up in a New Jersey landfill. Honey will have to use all her wits to defeat the psychopathic Rich, save her friends, and continue to be the Queen of the New York weed scene.
Is it possible to hear someone’s head fall in a script review?
If so, then yes, that was my head falling.
Sigh.
I can’t take it anymore. These people who watch a Scorsese flick then immediately run to their computer to write their screenplay.
The voice over. The tough protagonist who lets you know how the operation works. More voice over. The something bad happens in the first scene. The flashback to “two years earlier.” The voice over. The Scorsese formula is already stale for Scorsese. How are you going to make the imitation crab version tasty?
One of the things that drives me crazy about the Scorsese Formula is that there aren’t any scenes in the first 50 pages of the script. It’s just one long voice over. I like scenes. I like to be in situations. I don’t like someone chirping over my shoulder like a narrator in a World War 2 propaganda film.
I was seriously about to give up on the script.
But then something happened.
Rich.
If this script taught me anything, it’s that a great antagonist can save a screenplay. Ideally, the best character in your script is the hero. But if your hero isn’t up to snuff, you can still land the plane with a killer villain. And Rich the Villain was killer.
He was slimy. He was scary. Every scene he was in, you leaned in closer. There was never point in this script where I had to see Honey succeed. But there were plenty of points where I had to see Rich fail. I hated this rat so much, I kept reading to make sure he got his comeuppance.
A lot of people ask me, what makes a great villain?
The answer is complicated because it’s a mix of ingredients. It’s never one thing. But I will say this: If your villain is only evil to be evil, he’s boring. At the very least, give your villain a REASON to act the way he does. So here, Rich likes Honey. And he’s rich, so he’s used to getting what he wants. When Honey then rejects him, he’s furious. And he will stop at nothing to regain the pride he lost by getting rejected by her. In other words, THERE IS A REASON THAT HE IS ACTING THIS WAY. It’s not just because you need a bad guy doing bad things.
As is always the case with these Scorsese Formula movies, after the endless voice over stops and the movie starts telling an actual story, everything picks up. I was sleepwalking through the first 50 pages. But as soon as Narrator Nate shut up, I became engaged. I liked the scenes. And I thought the drama between Honey, Dell, and Rich was top-shelf.
That’s what I would say gets Hollander on the Black List above the typical amateur screenwriter. She wrote a great character. And despite the annoying Scorsese thing (which is more of a personal annoyance), like I said, she doesn’t do anything poorly. Everything else is either average or above.
If this script were a horse in the Kentucky Derby, it would’ve been last for the first 75% of the race. But it kicked it into gear and slipped into third place at the finish line. So I’d say it’s worth a read.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: One of my biggest pet peeves is when your characters get stopped by the police when they have something in their car that could incriminate them, and instead of cleverly getting out of the situation themselves, the cops just let them go. Please, if you ever write one of these scenes, have your characters outsmart the cops. Characters should earn every break they get in a story. Nothing should EVER be handed to them. If that happens, you’re cheating.
What I learned 2: A writer must always ask themselves, “Is there anything about my hero(es) that might turn an audience off?” Here you have people blessed to be in the top .000001% of beauty in the world. Will we root for these people? Curious to hear your thoughts.
