P.S. Tomorrow, the SCRIPTSHADOW LAST GREAT SCREENPLAY CONTEST finalists are announced!

We’re almost there!

We’re exactly one day away from the announcement of the finalists in the Scriptshadow Last Great Screenplay Contest.

But before we get there, I wanted to share some final thoughts about the competition. When you’re reading 3-4 screenplays a day, a clarity comes over you about why some screenplays work and others don’t. It has something to do with seeing good writing and bad writing side by side.

The biggest difference between an okay script and a good script is that okay writers put the onus on the reader while good writers put the onus on themselves. What I mean by that is, okay writers feel that the very act of writing a screenplay should get them points from the reader. “I spent all this time on this. I created all these characters. I wrote seven drafts. You owe me your appreciation.”

Good writers don’t care about that. They know that’s the last thing that is going to affect a reader’s interest in their screenplay. Instead, they know only one thing matters: Does the reader want to keep reading?

Do they want to keep reading after the first scene?
Do they want to keep reading on page 10?
Do they want to keep reading at the end of the first act?
Do they want to keep reading at the midpoint?

Having a vague belief that the reader wants to keep reading at those checkpoints is not what I’m talking about. I’m saying you’ve specifically designed your story in a way that you’re using story devices in those moments that keep a reader interested.

You’re using suspense. You’re using mystery. You’re creating intrigue. You’re creating worry. You’re creating tension. You’re offering questions that need to be answered. You’re using conflict. You’re throwing difficult challenges or complications at your characters. You’re building a sequence towards a clear climax. You’re setting up interesting unresolved problems between characters (that readers have to stick around for to see them resolved).

Let’s look at yesterday’s script, which did a great job keeping the reader invested all the way up to its climax. The first part of the script is a “building” sequence. That means you’re clearly building towards a mini-climax (a climax that’s going to come within the next 8-15 pages). Tom meets Sandra and they start dating. Everything is going well. But, uh oh, Sandra’s troubled brother enters the picture. He owes a lot of money to someone and if he doesn’t pay it, they’ll kill him.

This is a complication in the relationship. Readers naturally want to then see if your characters can overcome this complication. We also get the sense that Sandra might not be who she says she is. So we’re worried that Tom may be getting played (another complication). More importantly, we’re still building the storyline. The two get closer. The brother’s problems get worse. Until, finally, they have to deal with it. Tom gives Sandra the money to pay off her brother’s debt. And the next day, she disappears.

We then cut backwards in time to Sandra months ago. She’s a coked-out hooker. Huh? A mystery (or you could call it a question): Why is Sandra a coked-out hooker? Gotta keep reading to find out! We then build our second sequence. Sandra meets a mysterious guy (mystery!) who offers to help her out. This new guy, Max, then takes her under his wing and builds (a key word here – when the reader can feel you building towards something, they’re more likely to stick around) her into a con artist. But then we start worrying that Max may be doing the same thing to Sandra that Sandra was doing to Tom. And we have to keep reading to find out!

That’s such an important thing I just said so let me repeat it. You want to create a series of situations where the only way for the reader to find out what he wants to know is to keep reading. If you don’t pose any questions, the reader doesn’t need any answers. You need to dangle a series of carrots in front of the reader at all times. If you give the donkey (your reader) any of those carrots to eat, you must replace it with a new carrot. The less carrots you dangle in front of the reader, the harder it is to keep them invested. Most good stories have 3-5 carrots dangling at all times.

Conversely, I was reading a script from the contest and after a strong first scene (which is why the script advanced) it went 25 pages of straightforward setup. Setup of characters. Setup of their situations in life. Setup of where they lived. There was no thought at all put into keeping the reader invested during this time. I was bored out of my mind. Which is what I’m talking about. A good writer never lets that happen. Even when the task is difficult. I would guess that this writer’s argument would be, “Well, I had a lot of characters to set up. I didn’t have a choice.”

No. No no no no no no no no no no.

You never have an excuse to NOT ENTERTAIN the reader. Don’t ever sell yourself that lie. That lie is why you haven’t broken in yet.

Earlier this year, I read an Agatha Christie type script – a bunch of characters come to an island to visit a mysterious rich guy – and the writer had a dozen characters to set up. Did he spend the first 20 pages giving us a boring rundown of each character? No, he set up a few characters on the boat ride in. Then when they get to the house, the caretaker is waiting at the front door but he’s difficult. He has a set of rules about who gets in and who doesn’t. This leads to a few heated arguments. In other words, the writer built a scene around CONFLICT to keep the reader entertained while he was introducing his characters.

Now you may say, “Big deal, Carson. That’s not hard.” Tell that to the thousand-plus scripts I’ve read that introduced their characters in the most boring way possible. This writer could’ve easily had the caretaker be nice. Offer no resistance at all. Open up the door. Everybody walks in. Continue the character introductions for another five pages. And we’re already bored. You have the option, at every point in your screenplay, of asking, “Is the reader entertained right now?” If there is even a small chance that they are not, you need to start troubleshooting and figure out how to keep them invested. Add some conflict. Add some mystery. Build towards an approaching mini-climax (something that’s going to come to a head within the next 8-15 pages).

I realize it’s hard to quantify this stuff into a clear set of rules. But basically you want to change your mindset from being a “writer” to being a “designer.” You’re designing a series of sequences in your screenplay that are constructed to keep a reader’s interest.

You’re not writing “whatever comes to mind” and hoping for the best. If you write like that, your reader will lose interest at some point. Unless you’re one of those 1 in a million writing geniuses. But I wouldn’t bank on that. Instead, design each segment of your story to be impossible not to keep reading.

There’s one caveat to this. You have to know how to create strong interesting characters. Nothing I’ve said above works unless we either like or are intrigued by your main characters. I recently read a script by a beginner writer that technically checked a lot of these boxes I talked about. But the characters were way too thin. They didn’t act like real people at all. So even though the writer created conflict between his characters, even though he came up with plenty of complications for them to endure, I was still bored because I didn’t care about anyone.

I’m not going to get into what makes a good character because that would take another 40,000 words. But I’ll leave you with a tip. Think of each character as their own individual story. Because they are. They’ve lived this whole life up until this movie started. Draw from that life to create the things that make us interested in them. There are a lot of qualities that make characters likable or interesting. The Queen’s Gambit used a popular one – a girl who loses her mother in a car crash and is forced to live in an orphanage. Who’s not going to have sympathy for someone in that situation?

Make no mistake. The writer didn’t just stumble onto that. He DESIGNED it. He designed the character’s life in a way so that you would feel sympathy for her. It was calculated. Which is exactly how you need to be. You need to design characters we like or are interested in. And then you need to design a series of sequences in your screenplay that are impossible not to keep reading.

That takes humility. You are admitting that just throwing your stream-of-conscious thoughts onto the page isn’t enough. You need to design it. Then, and only then, will writers lose themselves in your work.

Seeya tomorrow with the CONTEST FINALISTS!

Is Karma the next Matrix, the next Wanted, or the next Assassins Creed?

Genre: Action/Supernatural
Premise: After an aimless woman wakes up from a short coma, she begins exhibiting special abilities.
About: David Guggenheim is one of those writers who experienced the screenwriting dream. It’s one thing to sell a script. A lot of writers have done that. But to get a script made into a movie is a rare thing. When Guggenheim sold his first script, Safe House, it just happened to be exactly what Universal Studios was looking to make at the time. So they fast-tracked it, and 8 months after Guggenheim sold his screenplay, his film was being made. That’s insane. And the thing is, when you get a produced credit from one of the big studios, you’re set for the next decade at least. And probably for life. Because writers who get stuff made are highly coveted. People think if they’ve done it before, they can do it again. So you’re going to keep getting work. Guggeneheim would eventually parlay his success into the show, Designated Survivor. On this one, he’s partnering with super-producer, Simon Kinberg.
Writer: David Guggenheim
Details: 128 pages

Can we get J Law back on top?

It’s the first spec sale of the year!

And if it’s going to be the first, it’s gotta be big! Big concept. Big page count. Big rating on Scriptshadow, though? Let’s find out.

Rachel is a 30 year old grade-school teacher who’s sleepwalking through life. It’s not that she isn’t motivated. But she has no direction. Her one love – painting – is something she happens to be terrible at. Her younger sister thinks she’s dying of boredom and wants Rachel to move to Chicago with her.

Meanwhile, we get a look at some Indiana Jones motherf#$%#r running through caves and throwing ancient daggers at people. This is Boone. Boone is a force to be reckoned with, according to Aegis International, a private security company that has dedicated all its resources to capturing Boone, something it’s been unable to do.

But that’s about to change. One day Rachel gets blindsided by a car, then a few days later wakes up in the hospital just as the doctor is trying to decide what to do with her. Rachel makes a suggestion, citing, word for word, an operating procedure from a 1915 English medical journal. Huh? How did she know that?

But that’s not all Rachel knows. A couple of days later, in the elevator, she has a fluent conversation in Arabic. But Rachel doesn’t know Arabic. Freaked out, Rachel heads home, only to have Aegis CEO John Gartner burst into her apartment with a team of men. He explains that she needs to come with them now! A minute later, a car BARRELS THROUGH THE WALL. It’s Boone! Who starts shooting at Rachel. Chaos ensues and Rachel flees!

John finds Rachel later and explains to her that she’s special. And if she wants to find out how special, she’ll come with him. He flies her to Aegis in France, where they begin the training sessions! You’re a “past-lifer” he explains to her. Someone with the ability to recall your past lives. This means that any skill anyone in your past lives had, you can obtain. “How?” She asks.

“Follow me.”


Rachel is placed in the “womb,” which allows her to be guided through an advanced form of regression therapy. Here, she can go directly into her past lives. And with every life she experiences, she retains their skills. Magician, samurai warrior, pianist, chess prodigy, you name it. Get in my way and I’ll check-mate yo a$$. Most past-lifers can only access up to 15 of their past lives. But Rachel is special. She completes 15 in her first day!

A newly energized Rachel is now ready to take on her nemesis – Boone. Aegis locates Boone hiding in Germany. So off they go. Oh, but if you think you know what’s going on, think again. When Rachel finally comes face-to-face with Boone, he tells her that it’s all a lie. That he isn’t the enemy. John Gartner is! Hmmm, is Boone just trying to protect himself? Or is he telling the truth? I know one thing’s for sure. Ya better protect your queen, b#$%h.

CHESS CHAMPION!

Okay, so let’s talk about this idea because it’s uncanny that I’m reading this after yesterday’s post about the next Amateur Showdown genre. For those who didn’t catch it, the next showdown is for HIGH CONCEPT scripts. “Karma” is the DEFINITION of a high concept. Here, the writer takes an idea that was accessible to everyone – past lives – and sexes it up. What if you could access those post lives? What if you could access the abilities of the people who lived those lives? You would be… superhuman. And just like that, you’ve got a high concept.

A common through-line with high concept ideas is that, when you hear them, you wonder why you didn’t come up with the idea yourself. We’ve all read that news story about the person who wakes up from a coma and all of a sudden starts talking fluently in a language they don’t know. Why didn’t we ask how to turn that into a movie? Guggenheim did, and he’s reaping the benefits.

It’s also an example of how to come up with a high-powered movie ready version of an idea as opposed to a boring variation of that idea. Cloud Atlas was also about past lives. But instead of packaging it in a cool action format, it expanded it out into a three hour drama. Which of these ideas do you think an audience is more interested in?

So Guggenheim gets an A+ in that department.

But I have the same issue with this script that I do with a lot of Guggenheim’s scripts. The execution is too by-the-book. I understand that these Matrixy concepts need to go a certain way. But if I’m predicting things that are happening 60 pages ahead of time, that means you’re not taking any chances. Don’t get me wrong. It’s still fun. But there’s a difference between those summer movies you see once then never watch again and the ones that you keep coming back to. The ones you keep coming back to are the ones where the writers took chances.

The writers and scripts I’m most impressed by are the ones where I’m reading them and thinking, “I could never do that.” I mentioned The Misery Index yesterday, a semi-finalist in my contest. When I read the dialogue in that script, I knew that if you put me in a library with all the greatest writers of all time teaching me how to write for 50 straight years, I still could not be able to write dialogue like that.

Yet, in Karma, I feel like the top 30% of writers here on Scriptshadow could write it just as well as Guggenheim. I’ll give you an example. One of the major components of this screenplay is the past lives. So the writer has to come up with all of Rachel’s past lives she’s lived. Here’s a sampling of what we get… Feudal Japan, Renaissance Painter, World War 2 pilot, Shaolin Monk, a blacksmith, ancient Egypt, Sherpa on Mount Everest, pre-historic man.

In other words, past lives that you could’ve come up with after literally 30 minutes of research. There’s nothing unique here that another writer wouldn’t have come up with. I want to stress that because it’s important. Your job as a writer is to come up with things that the rest of the world and your competition (other writers) couldn’t come up with. Or else why do we need you? If you’re giving us what we already thought of, well, that’s lame. We, the audience, are supposed to be creatively inept compared to you.

So that bothered me.

But mark this one down on the list of why concept is king. Even with its weaknesses, it still works, because the concept is so fun.

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

What I learned: Often times, high concept is about taking a cool ‘what if’ scenario and placing it inside a high octane genre. Writers get this wrong all the time, so pay attention. Past lives is not a high concept idea on its own. It’s just as capable of being low concept in the wrong hands. You could write a movie about a guy who discovers he had a past life as a sheep farmer and becomes inspired to leave the city and live a self-sustainable life in Wyoming. You’ve technically got yourself a past lives script. But is it a good idea? To get the sexier logline, take your ‘what if’ scenario and plug into a bigger flashier genre, like Karma did (supernatural action). Big flashy genres include action, thriller, sci-fi, and horror. Those genres always make the idea feel bigger.

“Lakewood” may be the single most intense script I’ve ever read.

Genre: Thriller
Premise: (me being deliberately vague cause I want you to read the script yourself) A school shooting told in a very unique way.
About: Man, Chris Sparling has come a long way. He started out placing a man in a coffin for 90 minutes. His latest movie, Greenland, is a studio disaster film. Now, he’s going back to his roots. “Lakewood” comes from the same production house, Limelight, that produced Scriptshadow Top 10 2020 film, “Palm Springs.” It stars Naomi Watts.
Writer: Chris Sparling
Details: 97 pages

(Scriptshadow Recommendation: Read this script before you read the plot synopsis! The power of this script is in its exciting plot developments)

The Obvious Angle.

Why is it every screenwriter’s worst enemy?

The Obvious Angle is the movie idea that approaches the subject matter just like everybody else would. If I told you to write a Western, the obvious angle is to have a mysterious no-name dude strut into town and start to stir up trouble. Borrrr-ing.

What makes or breaks a writer on the conceptual level is finding a fresh angle into well-explored subject matter.

And today’s script does that as well as any script I’ve ever read.

42 year-old widow, Amy, is going for her morning jog. This is the only time for Amy to clear her mind and alleviate some stress. Which she’s had a lot of lately. Her husband died two years ago in a car Amy was driving. And her kids – a daughter in elementary school and a son (Noah) in high school – are both still battling depression.

While on the outskirts of her town, Amy observes a strange sight. A couple of cop cars zoom along the road. It’s not something you typically see in this middle class suburb, but she doesn’t think much of it. Instead, she answers a couple of calls from her bougie friend, Heather, and her mom, who’s annoyed with Amy’s lack of communication.

And then Amy sees a couple of other cops zoom by. These with lights and sirens on full blast. This gets her attention. A quarter mile later, Amy receives a text: “THIS IS A CODE RED ALERT FROM THE LAKEWOOD SCHOOL DEPARTMENT. YOU WILL RECEIVE A RECORDED MESSAGE FROM THE SUPERINTENDENT WITH INFORMATION AND INSTRUCTIONS. DO NOT DISREGARD THIS CALL.”

The call comes in and a recording explains that “All Lakewood schools have been placed on lockdown due to an ongoing incident.” Amy immediately calls a teacher at her daughter’s elementary school. The teacher assures her that her daughter is okay. The problem, it turns out, is at the high school. The thought of something horrible happening at the high school is terrifying but luckily for Amy, her son, Noah, stayed home sick today.

At least, that’s what she thought. Amy calls Heather back since Heather has a daughter at the school, and learns that Noah did, indeed, go to school today. Amy hangs up and tries to call Noah, something she will attempt to do a lot over the next hour. But he’s not answering. So she decides to call the police. Except the police call her first. They want to know some information about Noah. “Why?” Amy asks. They refuse to say. Amy tells them everything she can, including one detail she’d forgotten until now, at least in how it relates to her son – tomorrow is the anniversary of her husband’s death.

During this time, Amy is desperately trying to get people to pick her up. But everybody’s already at the school, trying to figure out if their own kids are safe. So she calls an Uber. An Uber that’s going to be there in 5 minutes. Then 10 minutes. Then 15 minutes. Everything in town is being affected by the situation at the school. If Amy’s going to get there, she’s going to have to do it with her own two feet.

Amy is able to get in touch with an auto technician working on her car who happens to be right next to the high school. She orders the guy to go to the school to try and see if he can find her son. Within minutes, the technician tells her that the cops are towing away a car – HER SON’S CAR. Now Amy is really freaking out. As she continues her journey towards the school, she makes a series of frantic calls to try and figure out where her son is and what’s going on. Until finally, Noah answers… and she finds out the truth.

“Hey, Screenwriter A. I want to make a school shooting movie. Can you write it for me? Please come up with a good idea.” 999 out of 1000 screenwriters are going to come up with the Obvious Angle, which is something like this.

But Chris Sparling learned, early on, that it’s possible to tell stories in the unlikeliest of ways. And so he came up with a really cool angle for a school shooter movie. A school shooter movie told in real time through the point of view of a mother out in the middle of nowhere whose son may or may not be the school shooter.

That’s freaking genius.

Because think about it. When you put us in the school with the shooting, what kind of scenes are you going to get? Students pleading for their lives while an outcast kid in a black jacket shoots them dead? How many times have you seen that image before? A lot. Moments lose their dramatic impact the more that you see them.

Okay, so you can’t use that. What can you use? Well, what’s just as horrifying as a school shooter? Being a mother who learns that there’s a school shooting in progress and not knowing if her son is dead or not. That’s real horror. So Sparling built an entire screenplay around that. It’s so simple yet so brilliant that it makes you feel like every great idea does: Why didn’t I think of that myself?

Watching Amy desperately call person after person seeing if there’s anything she can do to help her child is way more riveting than anything you could’ve shown us inside the school.

Plus, Sparling adds this fun secondary plot element. It isn’t just, is my son okay? But is my son the person who’s killing everyone? In a way, that’s even worse than your son dying. So we go through a good 30 pages wondering if Noah is the shooter or not. But even after that question is answered, Sparling uses his concept to his advantage. We’re still nowhere near the school. We still don’t have all the answers. So we still have a series of phone calls to make where Amy is trying to figure out what’s going on.

The script is also a reminder that immediacy is a spec screenwriter’s best friend. Concepts with immediacy work well with specs because spec scripts are the ones readers give up on the quickest. Spec script are usually from writers trying to break in so they’re often not as good. Even if a reader likes a spec, there’s a good chance they can’t do anything with it since it’s harder to get original material made. So when you have a concept that’s immediate, the reader has no choice but to keep reading. That’s on full display with Lakewood.

Another nut that Sparling has cracked is the old screenwriting trick of making every beat of your hero’s journey difficult. A common beginner mistake is to roll out the red carpet for the protagonist. Give them all the help they need every step of the way because you want them to win at the end. Unfortunately, that’s not how good stories work. You need to make things hard for your hero. And Lakewood is a great example of the benefits of doing so.

How do you get information about someone inside a school during a shooting when nobody has any information? How do you get to the school when you’re in the middle of nowhere and everyone you know is too busy seeing if their own kids are okay? How do you get in contact with your son when he won’t answer? Sparling doesn’t give Amy a single break during this movie. Even ordering an Uber is a nightmare. Who hasn’t experienced the fury of seeing your Uber three minutes away… then check a minute later and now it’s eight minutes away? Well imagine that happening when your son’s life is on the line.

It was fun seeing Sparling go back to his roots here. This is, essentially, Buried. A guy in a coffin with a cell phone. It’s just that, this time, the coffin is the “middle of nowhere.” It’s also a GREAT way to get a movie made – a big idea (school shooting) and you could literally shoot it in 12 days. It’s just Naomie Watts out on a road. It’s crazy how cheap this probably was yet it feels HUGE. That’s the dream concept.

Don’t have anything bad to say about this one. Definitely a script all amateur screenwriters should study.

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

What I learned: Throw out breadcrumbs instead of the whole loaf. The writer could’ve easily said, “Your son is the shooter” up front. But that’s boring. That’s the whole loaf. Writing is about leaving breadcrumbs. We learn that Noah didn’t go to school today (breadcrumb). Then we learn that’s not true. Someone saw him show up (breadcrumb). Then we learn that the police are towing his car (breadcrumb). Then we learn tomorrow is the anniversary of Noah’s father’s death (breadcrumb). Another great thing about breadcrumbs is you can lead the reader wherever you want to lead them. In other words, you can make them believe Noah is the shooter and then flip it on them. Turns out it’s someone else. Of course, none of this is possible if you throw the loaf at them right away.

Before we get to today’s regularly scheduled programming, there’s something that’s been bothering me about Rotten Tomatoes. There’s this contingent of low budget horror movies that get unusually high scores on the site that don’t match up with the quality of the film. “Alone,” about a man stalking a female driver – 94% RT score. 58% audience score. I saw that movie and it was literally “first movie out of film school” weak. “His House,” which focuses on two displaced refugees in a haunted house. 100% RT score. 76% audience score. Extremely serious for a horror film. Disarmingly so. “Relic,” about an elderly mother’s erratic behavior, scored a 91% RT score with critics and only a 48% audience score. I don’t know if someone has figured out how to game the system for indie horror films on RT but there’s clearly something going on here and it’s annoying because I’m always looking for a good horror film and if I go by Rotten Tomatoes, I get burned every time. Anyone know what’s going on?

With that upbeat announcement, let’s get to the ten films I refused to watch this year because I knew they’d bore me to pieces. Trigger warning in advance! Some of you might get upset that I’m reviewing movies without seeing them. That’s not what I’m doing, though. I’m reviewing these movies from a conceptual/marketing perspective only. I’m fascinated by what makes the average person decide to watch a movie. The concept, the marketing, the trailer, the pitch – all of this is stuff you should be obsessing over as a screenwriter when you write something. Because even if you write the best script you’ve ever written? If it looks like Nomadland, a movie that makes you want to kill yourself when you watch the trailer, you’re going to have an insanely difficult time getting anybody to read the script. And with that, here are the ten movies in 2020 I wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole!

I’m Thinking of Ending Things – There are certain topics that are so depressing, they don’t work well within the cinematic format. Suicide is one of those topics for me. The exception to that is when you play off the expected tone and have fun with it. The 1985 comedy, Better Off Dead, comes to mind. Even the recent Netflix show, 13 Reasons Why, created this fun mystery component to the story that implied, for most of the season, that this might not have even been a suicide, but rather a murder. My issue with I’m Thinking of Ending Things is that it leans into the tone of depression and suicide so heavily that it’s too on-the-nose. It’s not a surprise to me at all, then, that the audience score for Kaufman’s latest was only 47%.

Bad Boys for Life – Bad Boys was the poster child for empty-calories entertainment in the 90s. You had the director – Michael Bay – who may be the director most uninterested in the human condition in all of Hollywood. This guy’s deepest thought every day is whether to add mild or hot sauce to his Taco Bell Grande burrito. This meant that the actors in Bad Boys, Will Smith and Martin Lawrence, were relegated to improvising as many variations of “Aww, helllll no!” as possible. Ironically, if I were asked to classify this franchise in three words, it would be: “Aw, hell no.” The biggest mystery about this movie is why did they want to make it? I would rather have seen a sequel to the underrated Martin Lawrence film, The Black Knight, than this. But I do give it props for making a lot of dough. I didn’t think the appetite would be as high as it was. And it managed to beat the pandemic.

Mank – “You can’t include “Mank,” Carson. You saw Mank!” That’s the funny thing. This movie was so forgettable that I actually forgot I saw it when I added it to the list. And it only came out a couple of weeks ago! Despite this, I realize that Mank is a rare achievement in Hollywood that only a select few filmmakers every generation enjoy. It’s when a director is so successful for so long that they can make a movie that only one person cares about – them. Nobody else asked for this movie. It has one fan and one fan only. That fan is David Fincher. And, hey, all the power to him. If I’m ever that successful, I’ll probably make a movie only I like as well.

Nomadland – Carson, why do you hate indie film so much? The truth is I do not hate indie film. In fact, here are a few indie I’ve enjoyed over the last few years: Parasite. Jojo Rabbit. The Favourite. Three Billboards. Do you notice a trend with all of these movies? Oh yeah, it’s that THEY’RE NOT DEPRESSING AS SHIT!!!! That’s all I’m asking for from my indie movie. That it not depress the hell out of me. And there is nothing in this universe that looks as depressing as this film. It isn’t even that I can’t take depressing narratives. But there has to be variety of emotion in a movie. It can’t be one single depressing note the whole way through. It irks me that movies like this get made because they seem to be saying, “Suffer through our depressing film so you can hear our message.” I’m sorry but I don’t watch movies to suffer.

First Cow – Without question, the single worst title of 2020. And maybe the worst title of the decade. It really says something that this movie is so highly reviewed yet I will never see it because of the title alone. A title is supposed to inform. Create curiosity. Give us a feel for what kind of movie we’re watching. Unless this is literally about the first cow in existence, this title does none of these things. This is another thing about indie film that bothers me. They don’t have people pushing back as much. So there’s no one to challenge anything. This is especially relevant in this case since someone needed to say, “I refuse to distribute this movie unless you change the title.”

Songbird – There’s miscalculation and then there’s stupidity. People don’t like to watch movies about upsetting subject matter while the subject is still happening. Michael Bay’s decision to make a movie about the pandemic during the pandemic would be second only to making a movie about 9-11 two months after 9-11. Oh yeah, I think somebody did that, too. In times of crisis, people don’t like to be reminded of said crisis. They like to laugh. They like to get lost in a fun story. There’s a good example of how to do this right and I have to thank Poe for it because he alerted me to the movie. The film is called “Host” and the whole story takes place over a Zoom meeting during the pandemic, which isn’t even about the pandemic. Check it out if you like horror.

The Lovebirds – The Lovebirds represents one of the oldest mistakes Hollywood makes. They take two quickly rising actors and assume that because everybody likes those actors individually that everybody will like them together as well. That’s not how it works. Every couple has its own personality just like every individual has their own personality. Nobody wanted to see a movie with these two together. Literally nobody. You see them in a poster and it’s the easiest “no thank you” you’ve ever said. Same thing happened with Passengers. You took one look at Jennifer Lawrence and Chris Pratt and said, “Something’s not right here.” I guess I understand, logically, why this happens. Actors are commodities and attaching hot ones are one of the best ways to move a project forward. But somebody needs to solve this particular problem because nobody wants to see movies like this.

The Last Days of American Crime – If anybody anywhere understands the plot to this movie, please let me know. I’ve never watched twenty minutes of something and been more confused than while watching this. This is only a movie that could’ve been made in this time, in this environment, with this business model, because Netflix is still so new to the feature game that they don’t have any quality control in place yet. The thing is, “Last Days of American Crime” has an interesting concept at its core – a blocker that the government initiates in all individuals makes them unable to perform a crime. But like so many bad writers before him, this writer took that idea and decided to make it as complex as possible instead of as simple as possible. Let this be your 6785th reminder that simple narratives win out over complex ones 99.9% of the time.

Fatman – I wanna pitch something to you. Are you ready? Miracle on 34th street meets Fargo. “Um, what exactly?” “You know, a movie about Santa Clause but it’s a crime film.” “But that doesn’t make any sense.” “Egggsaccctly.” “Um, no I don’t think you’re hearing me. That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.” Look, I’m all for doing something different. But when you’re doing something different, it can’t be forced. There are certain genres that don’t want to be mixed together. Sure, I could pitch a new version of “A Christmas Story,” told in three chapters, all of them backwards, in the style of a sci-fi Christopher Nolan film, for which I would win the “found a new angle” award. But did I create a good idea that audiences would actually want to pay for? No. I did not. And that’s the case with Fatman as well. I mean, this is a really poor idea for a movie.

Sound of Metal – I know I’m going to get some blowback on this one but there’s something about this movie, despite the critical praise, that’s keeping me away. And I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s the concept. A drummer for a rock band is losing his hearing? My first thought when you pitch me that is: I don’t care. I’m sorry. I don’t care if a drummer loses his hearing, lol. So what! I hate movies that put messaging over entertainment. But the flip side of that coin is when a movie isn’t about anything. This just seems so devoid of depth to me. Some of you may say, “Give it a chance, Carson!” That’s the point I’m trying to make, though! We all only have a finite amount of time. Which means we can’t watch everything. Which is why it’s so damn important to get the concept right. Millions of people are going to be looking at that concept and asking, ‘Do I want to check that out or no?” And they’re going to be making that decision within three seconds. So the more powerful you can make your pitch, the better off you’re going to be. Who the hell cares if a drummer loses his hearing?

Stand by for my favorite movies of 2020! Have there even been 10 good movies in 2020? Find out tomorrow! And share the 2020 movie you refused to watch!

Mayhem Jones, you ask? Who’s that? Isn’t the writer of the number one script, Sophie Dawson? Well, around here we’ve always known her as Mayhem. Not just because it’s her online alias, but because she’s always up to some kind of mischief. The good kind of mischief, of course. Speaking of mischief, Mayhem’s script, Headhunter, follows a cannibal who selects his victims based on their Instagram popularity. Today I ask her about that script, how she develops her ideas, and how she crafted the voice that won her so many fans around town. Enjoy the interview!

I know who I want to play Alan

SS: First off, congratulations! This all must be a bit overwhelming.

MJ: Thank you! I work a crappy retail job and this customer was arguing with me about leggings as my phone was blowing up with the news. I’m obsessed with Franklin Leonard and his annual Black List – my goal was to make the very bottom of it at some point in my life, so HEADHUNTER hitting #1 left me speechless. I quickly texted a friend who squealed: “I just showed the manager of H&M your name in Deadline!” and I was like, “Do you even know this person??” and he went, “No, but we’re both FREAKING OUT!!”

SS: By the way. There are many a rumor about where you live and what you do. I recently heard you live off the grid in a forest so big that it hasn’t been fully charted by the United States government yet. Can you tell us anything about where you reside or is that top secret?

MJ: TOP SECRET. I enjoy being incredibly difficult to reach, so when my managers insisted I set-up my cell phone’s voicemail (for the first time ever, I might add) stating my actual name and stuff… I was livid. It’s been 4 months and I’m still pissed! It’s really bizarre seeing people mention a script using my real name now. Don’t they mean Mayhem Jones??

SS: Why do you think, of all the scripts you’ve written, that Headhunter is the one that clicked with people and helped you break out?

MJ: Let’s face it, most of my earlier dialogue-driven work exploded all over the page in an insane, uncontrollable frenzy. With HEADHUNTER, I slowed down a bit. It’s still weird – but with less spin outs, more control! The producers and executives I talked to said it was a fun, interesting read that felt so different from what they’re normally given. Most importantly: you only need to find ONE PERSON to love and champion your script, and I hit the freakin’ jackpot finding a team who immediately took to the material. (Ha ha, sickos!)

SS: Can you tell us a little about your process for writing a screenplay? Do you jump right in? Do you meticulously outline?

MJ: I have a 40-beat chart that I use color-coded post-its to fill with one sentence scene pitches. I transfer that over to a word document where I go deeper: scene summary, links of research I might need, and “dialogue ideas”. I’ll transfer that into a Final Draft document with each beat numbered for clarity. I then write 2-3 scenes per day – withholding sleep, and sometimes food – until I make that quota. Once I have a more formal draft, I change my quota to 5-10 pages per day to more closely shape the scenes. I see dialogue and scene descriptions as totally different things, so I’ll do 10-20 pages a day of ONLY scene description work/polish, then switch to 5-10 pages a day of ONLY dialogue polish. I then do more broader passes of 20-30 pages per day.

Towards the end, I’ll do a “reader engagement” check – do I skim quicker over certain scenes? Those need more work. With a dialogue-heavy script like HEADHUNTER, I’ll have easily gone through it 100+ times, sometimes only changing a few words or moving a comma. I’ll go over the first 5-10 pages an extra 30+ times because it’s critical to gain the reader’s trust early.

SS: Headhunter has a BIG main character. Can you share your approach to character creation?

MJ: When I’m writing more voice-y stuff, it’s essential I relate in some way to the main character. This way, they can serve as a vector for my thoughts and opinions – which will lead to more energetic prose. I wanted to do a commentary on everyone’s 24/7 addiction to social media, so it made sense to make a cannibal character (us!) literally consume Instagram models (social media!), right? In general, I love the exploration of dark/demented characters that are presented in a more digestible way (uhhh, no pun intended). When people heard about HEADHUNTER early on, they were like: “Ewww! I’m not reading a script about a CANNIBAL!!” But once they found out I wrote it, they were like “Oh… OK. I know Sophie will do something different with it.”

SS: I suspect your dialogue was a big reason this script got passed around. What’s your secret to strong dialogue?

MJ: Dialogue succeeds when it’s natural, so I go with my “first take” as much as possible. The more you tweak it, the more awkward it sounds. I’m neurotic about looking up words I don’t know, and keep notes of dialogue ideas that pop into my mind. Even if I’m about to fall asleep – I’ll wake up and write it down. I’ll then go through my script and input these lines where they’d make the most sense. I was in Whole Foods listening to a pretentious douche brag about the price of avocados, and was like – my main character in HEADHUNTER could totally troll someone like that before killing them. Later, I read an article about how it rains diamonds on the planet Neptune. That fact was incredible! It’s a little too random to work into a conversation, but seemed like the perfect annoying ice breaker for an Uber driver.

You can even get more nit-picky if you want, and use rhythmic cadences. In HEADHUNTER, every time the main character wanted to close his eyes and disappear to another place – the description of the places he was daydreaming about had a certain rhythmic pattern. Towards the end of the script, when these daydreams were becoming more violent/unhinged, I slightly changed the rhythm (achieved by simply using words with different amounts of syllables) to be a bit “off” – so the sequence was more jarring.

SS: You get endless compliments about your unique voice, and rightfully so. Can you give other writers tips on finding their unique voice?

MJ: Ask yourself: what annoys the SH*T out of you? Start ranting about it. Seriously. Pull up a word document or whatever and write a paragraph about what pisses you off the most. Now, read it. Notice how animated you are? Notice how specific you are? Listen to yourself when you get angry – whether it’s about the Tesla that just cut you off, or the friend trying to offload their $1 Lake Tahoe timeshare on you – that super raw, inner monologue of yours is your “voice”. Apply that inner energy to scripts that deal with topics you have opinions on, and I guarantee you’ll notice a different kind of writing.

SS: What everyone is always asking is how to get an agent, how to get a manager, how a script goes from one’s computer to “sale.” Can you tell us, in as much detail as possible, how you got your agent/manager?

MJ: HEADHUNTER made the quarterfinals/semifinals in the 2020 Academy Nicholl Fellowships, and my friend was like, “YOU GOTTA QUERY PEOPLE RIGHT NOW!”. I hate querying so much, but I trolled the interwebs for awesome managers – begrudgingly sending the simplest/least annoying pitch I could to one per day. Someone on Reddit posted a Twitter thread by literary manager John Zaozirny, head of Bellevue Productions. It was about how he manages clients… I instantly became obsessed! I sent him a quick pitch, and amazingly he responded with a read request.

I was getting more read requests and even meetings – but after a zoom with John and his colleague Zack Zucker, I knew I wanted them in my life ASAP!! (I was right – they don’t mind my freak outs, ALL CAPS EMAILS, and ridiculous ideas, ha ha!) John and Zack started sending out HEADHUNTER, and it led to an astonishing six agencies wanting to know more about me. It was excruciating to decide (as many of these fabulous, fabulous agents have clients on this years Black List!!) but I have a wonderful team of people as crazy as me.

SS: Headhunter won Amateur Showdown and was reviewed on Scriptshadow a while back. Was there any feedback from the commenters you got that day that helped you improve the script to what it is now? If so, can you highlight some?

MJ: Honestly, the biggest complaint from that weekend was the genre. Everyone HATED that I called it a drama, saying it was more of a dark comedy. So I started labeling it as a dark comedy/satire. Except for some minor tweaks, it’s pretty much the same! The biggest change? A modified title. My manager John went all Sean Parker (from that famous scene in THE SOCIAL NETWORK) and said: “Drop the ‘The’. Just – HEADHUNTER.”

SS: I’ve found that there’s a direct correlation between a writer’s ability to stay positive and the length of time they stick with the craft. And since it takes a while to get good at this screenwriting thing, possessing the skill of remaining positive is very important. You are well-known for your positivity. Can you share your secret?

MJ: First off, you have to be in complete and utter denial about your odds of becoming a screenwriter. Like, it can’t even occur to you that it might not work out. You have to – naively as possible – keep marching forward. You gotta be a video game character that just keeps dying then regenerating. Second: you have to get over yourself, and get over yourself QUICK. I’m not perfect, not every script I write will be great, and I still have an unimaginable amount of things to learn about screenwriting. Self-deprecation and an overall humorous outlook on life (and its setbacks) is essential!

If one script doesn’t work out, maybe the next one will. Enjoy the hell out of any praise you get, but also get rejected often and early. I’ve been called EVERYTHING – from a “ranting maniac who probably spends her free time assembling robots out of old dishwasher parts” and “a mind numbing, insufferable dialogue hack” to a “plot-less blowhard who only writes to hear the sound of her own voice”. I’ll then dramatically read these jabs to my Mother, who’s like: “Sophie, most of those things are true.” HA!

SS: What are some of the tips you’ve learned over the years that have really improved your screenwriting? I like to call them, “Ah-ha,” moments. Can you give us a few of those tips that, when you heard them, you thought, “Oh my God, I need to start doing that!”

MJ: There’s so many great lessons everywhere, but for me one really stands out: I love the complexity of the opening scene in Aaron Sorkin’s THE SOCIAL NETWORK. The way the conversation is so out-of-step – with Mark Zuckerberg both jumping forwards and backwards on different topics – while Erica Albright just tries to keep up (being a few paces behind, or ahead). I’ll never be qualified to breathe the same air as Aaron, but this kind of jagged word play is interesting to watch and incredibly fun to write! If it fits the script I’m working on, I really like having an aloof character not quite on the same page as whoever they’re talking to.

SS: You’ve sent me, I believe, 5 scripts over a period of 8 years? And I believe you’ve written 20 scripts in total. In an industry where you get so little positive feedback until you make it, how did you stay motivated during that time?

MJ: WOW, has it been that long?! I feel like I started to take screenwriting “seriously” about 3-4 years ago. Because I was just writing off-and-on as a hobby (taking year-long breaks) during extremely demanding publishing jobs in New York City. But as my scripts got more and more positive feedback, I was like – wait, should I try to make this a career? I was just so swept up in climbing the ladder in a completely different industry that I wasn’t thinking about it. I just wrote for fun, experimenting in drama, dark comedy, and sci-fi to figure out my strengths and weaknesses.

I wouldn’t even use the term “motivated” to describe how I kept going… I’d rather say: have malignant, narcissistic masochist tendencies (seriously, be a complete sadist) with an urge to keep writing and throwing your work online. Amateur Offerings Weekend is one of the BEST things your site has ever offered to aspiring screenwriters – and was one of my biggest motivations to write, knowing I could pitch you some wacky crap and maybe you’d give me a chance. Thank you so much!

SS: You are, of course, welcome. One last question. You’ve got such an incredible imagination. What was your craziest script idea? Can you pitch it to us?

MJ: I had a terrible experience at the retail store JCPenney a couple years ago, so I came home and decided I was going to write a screenplay called: JCPENNEY IS A WHORE. I basically just listened to Beck albums on repeat while crafting this story about a suicidal man having 24 hours to locate someone’s stolen Justin Bieber concert ticket – before a bomb under that seat blew up the LA Staples Center. It opened with the protagonist tied up in Richard Simmons basement, having been lost in a human poker match to his insane maid.

There was only one scene that took place in an actual JCPenney (right before the main character went to Leonardo DiCaprio’s house for a party). It basically had everything you NEVER want in a script: sex robot-addicted cops, murders at Jack in the Box, a pimp with itchy pants syndrome who’s obsessed with vintage Nintendo systems, Chuck E. Cheese, and cameos by Amanda Bynes and Tish Cyrus (Miley’s mom). It never got past the outline stage, DON’T WORRY!!