Is today’s script the best horror entry of the entire 2022 Black List??
Genre: Horror
Premise: To save her friend, a maid in a decaying manor must unravel the secrets of its inhabitants while confronting spirits, her own terrifying abilities, and the very real horrors of Depression-era America lurking outside the door.
About: Another writer brand new to the scene here. But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been putting the work in. Evan Enderle has been writing screenplays for at least six years as he was the recipient of the 2017 Rough Draft Residency with The Drama League in New York. Put in those reps, everybody! Assuming he wrote between 1-2 scripts a year since then, he could have as many as ten screenplays under his belt. In my experience, somewhere between 6 and 10 scripts is when a writer finds their screenwriting legs. We’re going to talk about how many scripts screenwriters should be writing in the next newsletter as I’ve come across lots of writers who are approaching it the wrong way. If you want in on my newsletter, send me an e-mail at carsonreeves1@gmail.com.
Writer: Evan Enderle
Details: 112 pages
A hurricane?
In LA?
Is that even possible?
This past week I was hanging out with extended family on vacay. For perspective, my family was seeded, and then sprouted, from the endless fields of Indiana. They are proudly mid-western and, because of this, I wanted to know what kind of content they were into. What movies does the “Average Joe and Joan” in middle America up and leave their houses to see? What shows did they drape themselves in potato chip crumbs to binge?
I got only two universal answers.
They all loved Barbie.
And they all loved White Lotus.
Well, at least they half have good taste.
As much as I’d like to take you down another backroad of Barbie Land and trade definitions of the patriarchy, we’ve got a new script to review! I know Poe’s been hyping this one up. Let’s see if he was right.
20-something Lucy Moore arrives at Ravenswood Manor in 1931, on the outskirts of Tarrytown, USA. Lucy has been brought here as a maid to serve under the evil Ms. Crowne, the real-world equivalent of the wicked witch of the west. Crowne isn’t happy just making her workers depressed. She wants to make them les miserable.
After a tough first day, Lucy buddies up with another maid, Gertrude. The two are fast friends, which Crowne immediately picks up on. A day later and Gertrude has mystreruousy disappeared. Crowne says she left voluntarily during the night. But Lucy’s not buying it.
Before she “left,” Gertrude told Lucy about a special room in the manor. And after meeting Hale, the studly son of the woman Lucy looks after, Mrs. Dyer, the three are summoned to the special room, which we learn is a “ghost room” of sorts, where spirits are summoned. Right away Lucy is uncomfortable. She seems to have a special connection with the dead, a power passed onto her by her grandmother.
After connecting Mrs. Dyer with her dead husband, Lucy becomes a favorite of the woman, who insists to a furious Crowne that Lucy stay with her 24/7. Crowne attempts to undermine Lucy when she realizes her power is growing within the manor, but to no avail. The client, Dyer, likes Lucy too much.
With her newfound access, Lucy looks deeper into Gertrude’s disappearance only to discover a chilling truth – that Gertrude may not be dead or alive, but rather, stuck in limbo. Lucy will have to find her friend and set her free. But this will mean infiltrating Ravenswood’s most hideous secret – a secret that will change the nature of life as we know it.
This is DEFINITELY one of the better written scripts on the Black List. The writing is simple, descriptive, and, most importantly for a horror script, haunting. It feels professional right from the bump.
She waits, dwarfed by the soaring ceilings reflected in the shining marble floors. She takes a few tentative steps, surveys the sweeping grand staircase.
All is silent except for the soft POP of logs burning in the impressive fireplace. A YELLOW CAT watches from the shadows.
There’s also a sophistication to the dialogue that you don’t often see in the post 2018 Black List Era – in other words, dialogue that’s actually good.
“You are a queer one, Lucy. The girl who would refuse a job when so many are suffering. And now to be caught thieving and in hysterics in the middle of the night. The entitlement of it.”
Note the reversed nature of that final statement. Normally, that would go near the front of the sentence. “Do you understand how entitled you sound, Lucy? You’ve refused a job when so many are suffering.” But in real life, we don’t always think linearly. We come up with our thoughts on the fly, occasionally backloading sentences with points we realized we left out earlier. To write dialogue that reflects that is high level stuff.
Where this script is going to live or die, however, is with each individual’s preference regarding how they like their horror. If you like to have fun with your horror (Paranormal Activity), this script isn’t for you. If you like a giant infusion of drama in your horror (Let The Right One In), this is the script you’re going to be telling your horror buddies about.
Ravenswood puts on its “serious hat” from the outset. This script is about mood. It is about feel. Heck, you can practically smell the mildew within the manor, the novel-esque description is so thick.
It is both the script’s main strength and weakness. I dug it. I felt much more fear when we were placed in dangerous scary situations here (inside a garden maze with a headless gardener) due to how seriously the writer was covering the events. But it *did* come at the expense of being 40 pages into the script and still not knowing what the point of the story was.
This happens when you don’t add a clear goal. Which is fine. Horror movies are often powered by a looming sense of dread, of knowing that the monsters are coming. Being stuck in an ancient giant shadow-filled haunted house promises us many a spooky endeavor. But you can only milk that udder for so long before the reader starts demanding purpose.
Eventually, Enderle seemed to realize that Gertrude was the key to crafting any sort of narrative and therefore embraced the mystery of her having gone missing. This gave the script its coveted goal. But even then, the goal seemed to be stirred into other, less sexy, plotlines, such as the nonexistent romance plot between Lucy and Hale. That had real potential but the writer seemed to grow bored of it in real-time, as it had all but vanished (like a ghost) by the arrival of the first act.
The good news is, there were more good plotlines than bad ones. I was obsessed with the way Crowne pushed Lucy around, to the point where I would’ve been happy reading the entire script just to see Lucy stick it to her in the end, even if there hadn’t been any horror.
Speaking of, the horror imagery was good. Headless dogs. Headless gardeners. Limbless other animals and humans – all stuff Lucy kept seeing. It made for a nice mystery. We knew someone was lopping off body parts machete-style. But who was it? And why were they doing such a thing?
But the star of this script was always the writing. Even if I would’ve preferred more dialogue to make the read easier, I noticed a higher level of writing across the board, and it really made a difference in how the horror came across. Better writing better convinces us that we’re really there.
Take this simple line…
“A boy lies on a table, pale with death.”
Note how the line could’ve been…
“A boy lies on a table, dead.”
See the difference? The second line lacks any commitment to visually describe the moment. It gives us the cold hard facts and nothing more. The first example not only gives us an image in our heads (a pale dead body) but it’s also a more interesting way to say “he’s dead.”
It takes thought to write that way.
I have a feeling that this script will finish Top 10 when I do my annual Black List re-rankings. It’s pretty darned good.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[xx] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Your analogies should be reflective of the script’s setting. “Crowne has reached the foot of the stairs, appraises Lucy like a displeasing cut from the butcher.” This is a great analogy. Why? Because the analogy is rooted in the same setting that the script takes place in. A displeasing cut of meat from the butcher is something that would happen in 1931. I too often see writers using an analogy in this instance such as, “Crowne has reached the foot of the stairs, appraises Lucy like a drunk DJ at a wedding party.” In other words, the analogy is not time or setting appropriate.
