Get Your Script Reviewed On Scriptshadow!: To submit your script for an Amateur Review, send in a PDF of your script, along with the title, genre, logline, and finally, something interesting about yourself and/or your script that you’d like us to post along with the script if reviewed. Use my submission address please: Carsonreeves3@gmail.com. Remember that your script will be posted. If you’re nervous about the effects of a bad review, feel free to use an alias name and/or title. It’s a good idea to resubmit every couple of weeks so your submission stays near the top.

Genre: Action-Adventure
Premise (from writer): After witnessing the slaughter of her village by a rival clan, a woman warrior treks across Japan in search of revenge.
Why You Should Read (from writer): This script came out of my love for sword fighting. In every samurai film ever made, it’s always by far the highlight of the story, which is why I set out to make the plot of Onna-Bugeisha so simple. The characters have no spoken dialog. I thought it would be a great experiment to write a film in which the battles, the duels and the score were the dialog. — Uma Thurman aside, rarely do we see a woman take center stage in a samurai action film. The main protagonist in this story is not only a woman, but a mother of two. Women of the households, defending their families at sword point, is ingrained in the samurai culture, but to the best of my knowledge, I haven’t seen that story play out on film. — Please note: Although the page count is low for a feature film, I’ve timed it at around 1 hr 50 min.
Writer: Jon Sanhueza
Details: 48 pages (yes, 48 pages!)

I had a feeling you guys would dig this one. There’s something about martial arts and movies that goes together like Silver Lake and hipsters. Now I’ve never been leading the martial-arts charge. Maybe it’s because, as a kid, my karate instructor used to make me hold two books out with my arms until they fell off. But, hey, what 13 year old doesn’t go through their “Enter the Dragon is the best movie ever!” phase. I know I did.

Still, we’ve got a writer who’s taking a huge chance here. I’ve read a few scripts over the years that have been dialogue-free, and while telling a story without anyone speaking is one of the purest forms of storytelling, it tends to work best in short spurts, and not for 90 minutes at a time. Let’s see if Onna-Bugeisha is an exception to the rule.

Lord Mori is dead. And that’s never a good thing. This thrusts his son, Lord Jiro, and his daughter, Lady Takara, into the kingdom-running spotlight. And with Lady Takara running off to get married, it means poor Lord Jiro will have to do everything by his lonesome. And how does he celebrate this? With a concubine, of course! Oh man. Who wouldn’t have loved to live in feudal Japan.

There’s only one problem. That concubine? She’s kind of a secret assassin. And after giving Jiro a little sexy time, she strangles him to death. Meanwhile, Lady Tanaka is riding to her new hubby’s place with her number 1 bodyguard, the Samurai, “Katsuro.” But when their carriage is attacked, not even a samurai can take on a couple dozen gun-slingers. Maybe this is the moment in time when samurais realized, “You know? This gun thing might be an issue for our longevity.”

Katsuro’s beautiful wife, Maiko, is back at home using her residual samurai knowledge to take down the raiders destroying Jiro’s kingdom. In the process, both of her children are killed. But somehow, Maiko escapes, and heads into the woods after her man. She finally finds him in a cave, rescues him from the nasty raiders, and heads to the nearest village for some food.

Unfortunately, Katsuro wants to kill himself. Something about tradition for being a failure or something. Maybe I wouldn’t have wanted to live in feudal Japan. He succeeds when Maiko’s away, and now Maiko is all alone with no home, no children, no husband, and no In and Out. So she does what anyone in her situation would do: She plots some revenge, muthufuka!

Eventually she finds out that Lady Takara and her new hubby were responsible for this whole thing, probably so they could rule more land. So Maiko heads to their kingdom, now looking like a haggard beggar, and slices her way to a local tournament, where she takes down her competition, and finally, the couple responsible for her family’s death.

Writing a script without dialogue is like eating a pizza without cheese. It’s not that it can’t be good. But you’re going to have to come up with some bomb-ass recipe to make us forget about that cheese.

One of the lesser-talked about things in screenwriting is the way dialogue helps a reader’s eyes move down the page. It’s ironic when you think about it because we’re all telling you, “SHOW! DON’T TELL!” And yet secretly, we like you to tell because a page of dialogue moves about four times as fast as a page of description.

I remember getting to what I thought was at least page 25, and I looked up and saw that I was on page 8. That’s never a good sign. The goal in any script should be for the reader to look up and NOT BELIEVE it’s already page 40 or page 70.

And it’s not that Jon deluges us with endless paragraphs. Actually, the majority of his paragraphs are 1 line long!

So it led me to wonder, is the problem here that there’s no dialogue? Or is the problem that the story isn’t very compelling?

I can pinpoint one area that might help answer that question. After Maiko’s family has been killed, she finds some sort of piece of paper that highlights a contest with Lady Takara. And it seemed to me like this was supposed to be a key plot revelation. Like it was telling us who had raided the kingdom. And yet, it wasn’t clear if that’s what was happening, leaving me to wonder if I’d just read a major plot twist (Lady Takara betrayed her brother!) or if this was some run-of-the-mill exposition to get Maiko to the contest.

If there had been dialogue in this script, I’m sure there’d be zero confusion here. You’d have that scene where a character literally said this out loud. But there wasn’t, and that left me wondering who was responsible for this attack, a major plot point in the story lost due to the vagueness of a voice-less screenplay.

On top of this, I’m not sure this would be a 90 minute to 2 hour movie. That’s another problem you run into when you don’t follow proper page-protocol. 1 page = 1 minute of screen time. That’s how Hollywood’s been doing it since the beginning. They’ve even go so far as to keep certain dead fonts alive during the personal computing font revolution of the 80s so they could accurately determine a script’s length.

This may seem trivial but remember, you’re talking about a business that wants to know EXACTLY how much something is going to cost, down to the thousand dollar mark. Warner Brothers will force you to write scripts for them in their specific template so they can have a better understanding of this number.

I don’t know if this movie is 30 minutes long. 100 minutes long. I have no idea. And if I don’t know, I’m guessing a studio exec won’t either.

All of this overshadows the fact that Jon is a really good writer. You can tell he loves this subject matter. The way he describes things is very simple and elegant (“A ninja drags the samurai onto the roof and plunges the sickle into his chest.”). There’s just something about this no-dialogue format that’s interrupting my enjoyment. I wish I felt differently but that’s the truth. And as Will Smith likes to say, “Tell the trust.”

Screenplay link: Onna-Bugeisha

[ ] what the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me (but writer is definitely someone to watch out for)
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: Despite my reaction to this specific story, today is a reminder to write about what you love. It really makes a difference in the product. Readers can tell when you care. Everything feels more detailed, more vibrant, more thought-out. You can’t fake that. It’s like a born and bred country singer being asked to sing R&B. If he’s talented, he can do it. But you’re never going to feel the same passion in his voice as when he’s singing country.

Genre: Contained Thriller
Premise: When a young woman wakes up in the fortified cellar of a man’s farm house, she must figure out if the mysterious reason why he says she’s there is true or not.
About: This was just a regular spec script until JJ Abrams’ company, Bad Robot, decided to adapt it into the next chapter of the Cloverfield franchise. How “Cloverfield-y” it will be is up for debate. And since this is the original 2012 draft, before the changes were made, we won’t know for sure until the movie arrives. However, based on the recent trailer, I can confirm that a ton of it is similar. It will just somehow tie into that giant monster who destroyed New York City. Newcomers Josh Campbell and Matt Stuecken wrote the script. It’s been said that Whiplash writer-director Damian Chezelle helped with the rewrite. I wonder if that means there will be a dance number?
Writers: Josh Campbell & Matt Stuecken
Details: 95 pages (April 11, 2012 draft)

For those of you bemoaning the fact that your movie choices this weekend were limited to either Ride Along 2 or Michael Bay’s attempt at being serious, rejoice in the fact that big Hollywood movies are coming sooner than you think. Deadpool comes out in the traditionally dead month of February. Batman vs. Superman is here in March. And just last week we learned we were getting a new Cloverfield movie, also debuting in March.

While JJ has shied away from the mystery box as of late, due to the internet repackaging his box into some kind of movie-killer, he did dig back into his bag of tricks with the release of this trailer, surprising everyone last week with the news they’d getting another Cloverfield. So how good is the script that inspired this semi-sequel? No mystery box on that one. It’s very good.

18 year-old Michelle Burke has just woken up in a small room in her underwear with no idea how she got there. No sooner is she putting the pieces together than a 40-something man, Howard Stammler (what a great character name!) walks in with food. She attacks him, but he’s too big for her. And what he tells her next is so shocking, it turns her world upside-down.

He’s not here to hurt Michelle. He’s here to help her. According to Howard, some huge attack just went down. All of the cities have been blown to bits, and there’s some sort of radioactive chemical in the air that’s killing everyone. As this was all going down, Howard spotted Michelle unconscious in her crashed vehicle on the side of the road. He couldn’t let her die there, so he took her with him.

Howard, it turns out, is one of these preppers, weirdoes who have a full service survival cellar in case the end of the world happens. And because of his weirdo-ness, he’s saved both himself and Michelle. That is, of course, if he’s telling the truth, which Michelle is pretty sure he isn’t.

But she’s stuck in a tough spot. On the 1% chance that he’s telling the truth, if she tries to escape, her skin might dissolve and her eyeballs turn to jelly. And everything Howard tells her has just enough of a ring of truth to it to make her think twice.

Complications arise when a third person crashes the party, Nate. Whereas Howard is old and chubby, Nate is young and, well, sizzling. So when he starts selling Michelle the same story, she’s more inclined to believe him. Making things even weirder, Howard and Nate know each other. But something happened between them that’s soured the relationship.

Is this really happening? Or could Michelle be the victim of some weird fucking game? Every time she thinks she’s figured it out, something new pops up to cast doubt again. This is what helps keep The Cellar a mystery until the very last page.

Arnold Schwarzenegger used to be the best bodybuilder in the world. And if you hear him talk about that time of his life, he keeps going back to one principle over and over again: You have to shock the muscles.

He says, “When I go to the gym and I’m about to work out, my muscles already know what I’m going to do. They’re already saying to me, ‘I know you’re going to go do 3 sets of 250 pound bench presses. Then you’re going to move over to the dumbbell rack and do 3 sets of 70 pound curls. Then you’re going to come back to the bench and do 4 sets of 200 pound incline presses.”

And Arnold’s whole philosophy was, “You think I’m going to do this? You’re wrong. I’m going to shock you. Today, I’m going to start out with THREE HUNDRED and fifty pound bench presses. Then instead of doing my usual bicep curls, I’m going to do pull-ups…” By shocking the muscles, Arnold argues, they have no option but to grow.

Readers are a lot like muscles. They know your routine already. And they’re used to it. So all the tricks you’ve learned along the way? They’ve seen them. And the only way to make a reader sit up and pay attention (grow), is to shock them. And by that I don’t mean some giant shocking plot twist. And I don’t mean a jump scare. I mean show them something unexpected. And preferably, do it right away, so that the reader immediately knows that this is a writer who’s going to go about the routine differently.

I’ve read so many of these contained cellar/bunker/basement scripts by now, I can’t keep track of them anymore. So I know what’s coming almost all the time. There are only so many ways you can spin this situation. Or at least I thought. The Cellar has me rethinking that belief.

Right away, we have this girl in a room. And she wakes up. And there’s a 40 year-old man. And he’s creepy-looking. And I’m thinking to myself, “Okay, here we go. Been down this road before.” But immediately, the man says something I wasn’t prepared for. As the woman attacks him, he doesn’t fight back. He holds up his hands in defense and tells her, “I’m here to help you.”

Those words completely threw me off. Help her??? Huh? How can a man holding a woman prisoner be helping her? And it was that moment I knew this script would be different.

I’ll give you another example. Later in the script, the third guy shows up, Nate. Again, I’ve been down this road before. It’s really one of the only things you can do in these contained movies – is add that mysterious 3rd character who shows up around the midpoint. It adds a new dimension to the story and keeps it from getting stale.

But almost all the time, the character is weak. He’s not there as a real person, but rather as a desperate plot device to keep things interesting. Writers will ride the mystery of this character as long as they can until they have to explain him. And when they do explain him, it’s always boring and obvious.

When Nate comes in though, Howard looks at him and seems upset. There was a history between these men. Something had happened between them. And that totally threw me again. In the past, these characters have always been complete unknowns. The fact that these two knew each other opened up this whole new avenue to explore in a contained thriller. How did they know each other? Why didn’t Howard like him? How is this going to affect Michelle?

Another thing these writers do well is that they use backstory to ADD to the story as opposed to just provide context.

One of the huge mistakes beginner screenwriters make is they include backstory (characters talking about their past, or worse, flashbacks) to provide context for their characters. A character will go on a rant about how when he was in high school, he was an outcast, and it’s like, “Who cares??” Backstory works best when it CHANGES THE DYNAMICS OF THE CURRENT STORY.

So here, for example, when Nate comes in, he tells Michelle in confidence that Howard’s wife was murdered. The police never solved who did it, but there was a lot of speculation that it was Howard. So you see that we have this backstory on Howard now (his wife was murdered) that changes the dynamic of the present. We’re now more suspicious of Howard. If he killed his wife, who’s to say he won’t kill them? That’s what good backstory revelations do.

The same thing happens again with Howard’s daughter. Before Nate shows up, Howard tells Michelle a story about his daughter. But later, when Nate comes, he tells her Howard doesn’t have a daughter. And so, again, backstory is being used to affect present story.

I’m not surprised at all that this caught Bad Robot’s attention. These writers took a potentially cliché setup and turned it into something really fresh and fun.

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

What I learned: One of the ways to find a new way into an old story is to shift the default character dynamic. So if you look at the “Man keeps woman prisoner” scenario, ask yourself how you could change that. Maybe the man is actually helping the woman. This creates a whole new movie. The Die Hard setup. Man must shut down a group of terrorists who have taken over a building/boat/airport. What if you found a way to make the terrorist the one who had to save the day? Change the dynamic and you have an entirely new story.

So here’s the thing. I didn’t love Aaron Sorkin’s “Steve Jobs” when I first read it. But when I saw the movie, a lot of the stuff I didn’t think would work DID work, and it turned out to be one of my favorite movies of the year. The fact that it was kept out of the Oscars, then, in favor of CAROL(????) is god-damned ludicrous. Carol was one of the most average movies I’ve ever seen. It wasn’t bad. But it definitely wasn’t good. And as a screenplay, there was nothing there. There’s one moment in the entire movie that’s unexpected. And the rest is basic and bland and safe. I still don’t know who votes for these things (do only Academy screenwriters or is it all Academy members?) but they’re clearly delusional if they’re bringing this script in over Jobs. I mean at least Sorkin took some chances as a writer. Carol is completely dependent on Rooney Mara’s eyes and Cate Blanchett’s acting. And the last time I checked, neither of those things is written! Let that marinate while you’re reading some amateur brilliance this fine weekend!

Remember, you can submit your own script to challenge your peers with by sending me an e-mail (carsonreeves3@gmail.com) with your TITLE, GENRE, LOGLINE, WHY YOU THINK IT DESERVES A SHOT, and a PDF of the screenplay. A good review tends to get writers some industry contacts. So who knows, maybe you’ll be the next “The Last Alchemist.” Keep’em coming!

Title: The Space Hotel
Genre: Action/Sci-Fi
Logline: The year 2037. When the world’s first space hotel is hijacked by religious fundamentalists, it falls to an atheist scientist and a devout ex-soldier to lead the fight back.
Why You Should Read: The Space Hotel is a high concept idea in a marketable genre, featuring a number of Scriptshadow favourites — unique location; strong female lead; proactive protagonist with a relatable flaw; high stakes; condensed time frame; unifying theme — all tied up in a manageable 102 pages. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Title: Onna-Bugeisha
Genre: Action/Adventure (48 pgs – no dialog)
Logline: After witnessing the slaughter of her village by a rival clan, a woman warrior treks across Japan in search of revenge.
Why You Should Read: This script came out of my love for sword fighting. In every samurai film ever made, it’s always by far the highlight of the story, which is why I set out to make the plot of Onna-Bugeisha so simple. The characters have no spoken dialog. I thought it would be a great experiment to write a film in which the battles, the duels and the score were the dialog. — Uma Thurman aside, rarely do we see a woman take center stage in a samurai action film. The main protagonist in this story is not only a woman, but a mother of two. Women of the households, defending their families at sword point, is ingrained in the samurai culture, but to the best of my knowledge, I haven’t seen that story play out on film. — Please note: Although the page count is low for a feature film, I’ve timed it at around 1 hr 50 min.

Title: The Murder of Mae Crow
Genre: A historical courtroom drama, set in turn of the century Georgia.
Logline: In 1912, two black teenagers stand trial and face execution for the rape and murder of a white girl in the Jim Crow South.
Why You Should Read: I’m just a guy that at the age of 42 decided to try and become a screenwriter because I don’t have enough ridicule and failure in life. I’ve researched this case for over three years pouring over microfilm for countless hours. — This is a true story and the case that caused the largest African-American banishment in U.S. history. This helped bring about the re-birth of the KKK. The judge and lawyers were all the key ringleaders of the lynching of Leo Frank, and the original members of the new KKK started in 1915. Hollywood has largely been silent on the epidemic of black lynchings that took place from 1864-1935. An estimated 4,000 to 7,000 African-Americans were lynched during this time yet no movie accurately depicts this time, their struggle, or the injustice of a Jim Crow justice system. This is the most important script you will read this year, and a story you will not easily forget.

Title: The Transfer
Genre: Horror
Logline: A violinist’s arrival at an exclusive boarding school coincides with a series of sinister events.
Why You Should Read: I’m a screenwriter who appreciates a good scare. I think you should read the Transfer because it’s a fun horror thriller that I would describe as What Lies Beneath meets Heathers. I was inspired by psychopathic gangs of teenagers that often manifest at elite private schools. — I never attended boarding school but went to camp one summer at St. Andrews where Dead Poets Society was filmed. They always seemed like fun places to me but at the same time there’s that Lord of the Flies-style youth gone amuck threat lingering. — The story revolves around a talented violinist who transfers to a prestigious boarding school and unwittingly crosses a dangerous clique. What results is a harrowing semester of hazing that unravels a shocking secret that leads to the death of several high-profile students at the hands of that what can only be described as something supernatural. — I also drew tone/aesthetic inspiration from films like Repulsion, Black Swan, and It Follows.

Title: Entitled
Genre: Thriller
Logline: Three people wake up in a room with no doors or windows. They notice a casket at the far side of the room with three locks and a timer counting down. They must figure out why they are there and what happens when the timer reaches zero.
Why should you read it? It’s like Cube having a head on collision with Saw and Phone Booth. It reads fast and has a supernatural element to it. There are a handful of characters, each having their own voice and back story. It has rapid fire dialogue that comes of natural and you can cut the tension with a knife. This script will keep you interested until the last page.

A mysterious writer makes the Black List without any managers or agents!

Genre: Drama/Thriller
Premise: A New York publicist’s life starts to unravel when he’s suspected of killing his co-worker.
About: It took my scrolling through three dozen loglines, but I FINALLY found a script on the Black List that didn’t start with the words, “Based on a true story…” or “The real life story of…” But here’s what really caught my eye about today’s script. All the other scripts on the Black List have two managers listed, two agents, a couple of producers, a production company, and sometimes a studio. This script? It just had a small production company listed. No representation. That’s an indication that a script REALLY DID build its reputation on quality alone (and not, ahem, campaigning). I’m smelling a good one here, guys.
Writer: Topher Rhys-Lawrence
Details: 100 pages

Gosling would be perfect for this.

Was talking to a writer yesterday who’d read a terrible screenplay that had sold and he was pissed off that all these “bad” writers were breaking in while he was still a “nobody.” “If these guys are getting in with these shitty scripts, why am I still stuck on the bottom?”

Look, guys, you can’t control what scripts sell. There are a hundred different reasons sales happen, a lot of them a mystery to us. But even if that weren’t the case, comparing your progress to someone else’s is always a no-win scenario. Think of screenwriting like golf. Your only opponent is yourself.

And the way golfers get better is through discipline. Going out and hitting thousands of balls. That’s what you have to do. Sit down and write thousands of sentences. Discipline is your way into the industry.

I have no doubt it’s discipline that got Topher onto the Black List. This script shows the kind of craftsmanship you only get through a lot of practice. Let’s take a look.

Reade McCarthy is 32 years old and so close to his goal. He’s the second best publicist at his firm and the founder is retiring in a year, setting him up to take her place. The only one in his way is Valerie, a volumptuous strategist who wants to be the big cahuna just as badly as Reade does.

Meanwhile, Reade is doing his best American Psycho impression, tending to his body and look with the kind of attention even an OCD disorder would find disturbing. Maybe if he took a little of that attention and spent it on his stunning fiancé, Tasha, she wouldn’t be having doubts abour their relationship.

Doubts which are well-founded, since Reade is secretly fucking Nicolette, a bombshell blonde who’s batshit bonkers. Nicolette is Reade’s dirty little secret, the one thing he can’t control and therefore his one source of excitement.

But that area of Reade’s life is about to get a lot more complicated. After eviscerating his nemesis, Valerie, at a party, he finds out the next day that she was murdered. And, of course, since everyone saw Reade screaming at her, he’s the prime suspect.

If that weren’t bad enough, Reade starts seeing a man around New York who looks exactly like him, albeit disheveled and homeless. As he does his best to manage these issues, the firm hires Valerie’s replacement, Sebastian Ryan, basically the same person as Reade, but better at everything. Reade’s biggest nightmare.

Like a strange combination of American Psycho, Fight Club, and Mr. Robot, USP watches New York’s preeminent control-freak struggle helplessly as he loses control over everything.

Character pieces are the scripts most likely to fall apart due to the fact that they don’t have traditional goals to guide the story. Colin Trevorrow’s script “Stealing Time,” may not have been very good. But it had a clear goal – find the pieces of the device before the bad guys did.

With USP, there isn’t a goal. So you have to find other ways to push the reader through the story. One of those ways is to “lead.” Again, leading is implying something important is going to happen later in the story, which in turn entices the reader to stick around until that moment happens. You’re basically dangling a carrot.

For example, after Valerie dies, this Sebastian guy comes in. And after a couple of dick-measuring scenes, Reade says he wants to invite Sebastian out, get to know him better. With Sebastian now Reade’s main competition, this is a meet-up we’re curious to see. So from now until that scene, we’ll stick around.

In addition to this, good character pieces need things to be in disarray. Shit must be falling apart so that the reader will want to stick around to see if it gets fixed or not. Take Reade’s girlfriend, for example, Tasha. She’s starting to pull away from him as he becomes more and more unraveled. That’s an area of “disarray” we’re curious about. We’ll stick around to see if Reade can fix that problem.

But I’ll tell you the moment in USP when I knew I was dealing with a legitimate screenwriter. It’s a scene that comes up in the middle of the story. Reade’s life is crumbling. And he’s out with Tasha when he runs into Nicollete, the crazy unpredictable woman he’s having an affair with. Tasha watches from afar as Nicollete approaches Reade. It’s clear from Tasha’s point of view that there’s something going on between these two.

Not wanting to make a scene, she waits for their conversation to end, approaches Reade, and asks to leave, so she can question him about this without creating a spectacle. Nicollete, still nearby, overhears this and turns around, getting her long overdue opportunity to interact with the woman Reade chose over her.

Now, I’m going to ask you to visualize the scene the way you would write it. How would this “confrontation” go down in your book? I encourage you to go as far as writing out the dialogue. Once you’re done, come back here and read the below. This is what happens next…

NICOLETTE: I’m so sorry! I must have given you the wrong impression but we’re just old friends. We haven’t seen each other in years and wanted to catch up. He was talking me through a guy problem. Hope you don’t mind.

TASHA: Reade, it’s getting late.

NICOLETTE: Problem Guy and I didn’t end well. I carried his baby for four months, and, well, you probably don’t know the toll it takes on a gal when you’re asked to get rid of it. And then he got rid of me as soon as he realized that I didn’t fit into the press release of his life he’d been writing for himself.

A rigid beat between the three.

NICOLETTE (CONT’D): It was a girl. Problem Guy asked me never to tell him. But I guess I’m just not that big of a person.

For those who’ve been trying to crack this craft for awhile, they know exactly why this scene is good. Beginners, on the other hand, might wonder what the big deal is. Here’s the big deal. 90% of writers would’ve written an on-the-nose confrontation between these two women. One of them would’ve accused the other of doing something bad. The other girl yells back. Maybe things get physical.

The genius of this moment is that Nicollete tells Tasha her and Reade’s entire story under the pretense of it being someone else. It’s indirect. And it’s not only a subtle way to approach the confrontation, but as a character choice, it’s much more devious and clever. Even if Tasha were to say something, Nicollete could shrug her shoulders and reply, “I don’t know what you mean. This is something that happened with my old boyfriend.” Way more interesting than, “I know you’re fucking my fiancé.”

I say this as someone who has read SO MUCH ON-THE-NOSE dialogue over the past month in the contest. I rarely encounter a scene as clever as this one. If you’re going to become a good screenwriter, this is a skill you need to learn. Figuring out creative ways to explore conversations that we’ve seen a million times before is a pay-worthy skill. You’re not going to be able to do it all the time. But if you can do it during a few key scenes, you’ll be well on your way to cracking the screenplay code.

Untitled Sociopath Project is the kind of script that the Black List used to celebrate before Sgt. Biopic and Colonel True Story’s army stormed Screenplay Island. It’s voicy, it’s unique, it’s got an offbeat main character. And most importantly, it’s well-executed. This is a trippy surprise you’re going to want to read if you get a chance.

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

What I learned: Some of you may remember how I hated The Libertine. And you might be asking, “Wait a minute, Carson. How is it you gave today’s asshole main character a pass when you eviscerated The Libertine’s asshole main character??” I’ll tell you exactly why. If you’re going to write an asshole character, he has to suffer for his asshole-ness. That’s this entire script. Reade’s life is falling apart because of what a terrible person he is. My issue with The Libertine is that that guy was a dickhead the entire movie and didn’t have to pay a dime for it. And worst of all, his big problem (raping someone) was solved at the end without him having to do anything! So if you’re going to write a terrible person, make sure they pay the price for being a terrible person.

Genre: Sci-fi
Premise: A bitter truce has been reached after an alien invasion. Fueled by suspicions of an alien spy in their ranks, the United Nations entrusts an agent with finding the mole.
About: This one finished Top 20 on the 2015 Black List and comes from a British writer who recently wrote a film for Paul Verhoeven to direct, titled, “Elle.” It follows the CEO of a gaming software company who is attacked in her home by an unknown assailant.
Writer: David Birke
Details: 117 pages – February 2015 draft

After coming out of yet another meeting last week where it was stressed to me the need for more biopics and true stories, I’m at my wits end. I’m trying not to sour on the format. But I’m just so sick of it! How many lives do we have to watch before somebody gives us an original idea with original execution????

With that said, I had one of those a-ha moments on the drive home about why biopics have become such a huge deal. About 7-8 years ago, the ultra-franchise was born, bringing with it, if not the extinction of the star-driven film, then at least the destruction of its infrastructure.

In this new world, stars were going to have to find a new way to survive. I mean, shit, we’re in a world where a Will Smith movie is now lucky to bring in 30 million bucks. Enter the biopic. It is the genre that studios still need big actors for, as those actors are the only way to sell the movie. I mean let’s be honest. No one’s going to see Joy if it stars, say, Selena Gomez.

Actors realized quickly that this was their ticket to keep being stars and to get paaaaaa-aaaid. And so the 50 biopics a year era was born.

Am I mad about this? No. I can’t be. I have too many places asking me for the next great biopic screenplay and/or true story. So I will have to keep reading them. But when I don’t have to read them, I will fight the good fight. Read scripts that contain some element of being born inside an imagination. And when I read the logline for today’s script, that’s exactly what I saw. The only question is whether the execution would match it. Let’s find out.

The year is 2037. A War of the Worlds-like alien attack has occurred and the planet has somehow neutralized the alien threat, although now we have a bunch of aliens lingering around, still pushing their agenda. The only difference is that instead of doing so through giant ships that shoot lasers, they’re doing it through espionage, developing human-alien hybrids that look and act exactly like humans, then using them as spies.

This is where our hero, Martin Webber, comes into play. Webber works for the world equivalent of the CIA or MI-6, and is an agent dedicated to neutralizing the alien presence. His job has gotten a lot tougher, though, as word’s come down that one of these secret alien-humans has infiltrated the agency. Webber, due to his no-nonsense approach, is chosen to smoke this person out, a guy or gal who goes by the code name, “Morningstar.”

Strangely enough, Webber doesn’t seem to be in that much of a hurry. He likes to hang out with his hot neighbor, Mia, and get to those pesky job requirements whenever he’s feeling up to it. This results in a very relaxed investigation that begins to indicate our mole is a lot closer to Webber than he may have thought. In the end, we find that the truce between us and these aliens is a lot more complicated than we could’ve imagined.

As I’ve said plenty of times before, if you’re going to write a sci-fi movie, particularly an alien invasion sci-fi movie, you want to look for a fresh way to tell the story. It’s why I liked Story of Your Life. It’s why I liked District 9. And that tradition continues with today’s script, Morningstar.

It’s no easy challenge though. The reason people do it the easy way isn’t because that’s the way it’s always been done, but because that’s the way that includes the most dramatic tension. The act of aliens invading offers all sorts of dramatic possibilities. If you’re coming into the mix after that, you’re going to have a hard time finding a story as cool. I mean, what’s more high-stakes than an alien invasion?

A good example of this problem played out in the development of World War Z. That film was based on a book that took place after the zombie outbreak was over. The story was more about the political machinations involved in figuring out what went wrong and who was responsible.

They wrote a few drafts with that approach – one of which I reviewed on the site – and there was a big problem. It wasn’t that interesting. So in the end, they caved and moved the story back into the actual zombie outbreak, resulting in a much more dramatically compelling film.

Suffice it to say, Morningstar hasn’t figured out how to solve this problem either. But that’s just the beginning of the script’s problems. Everything here is over-described, with 8-10 line description paragraphs being the norm. Goals aren’t highlighted properly, leaving us to go 20 pages at a time not really sure what the characters are trying to do. And there’s a whole lot of talking instead of doing, which is one of the worst mistakes you can make writing a screenplay. The whole script has the distinctive feel of being that person at the party who will talk for 30 minutes and after you walk away you realize he didn’t actually say anything.

A lot of this could’ve been solved by instituting a more focused lens. And focus starts with your action description. A lot of writers hear that you’re supposed to keep your paragraphs to 4 lines or less in a screenplay and don’t see what the big deal is. I mean, is it really that difficult to read 8 lines instead of 4?

If it’s good writing, it’s certainly not as big of a deal. But the main reason that writing sparsely is so important, is because it forces you to think about what you want to say. If you have unlimited lines, you’ll babble til you get to the point. But if you have three, it’s a lot like a tweet. You have to think about what it is you want to say and be concise about it. And when you do that, your sentences are always more impactful.

If Birke could’ve done that and then extrapolated that approach to his entire writing process, giving the script more focus and thrust (honestly, there was ZERO URGENCY in this story), I’m sure I would’ve enjoyed it more. But right now, it’s too vague, not enough happens, characters talk about insignificant things for far too long, and, worst of all, it’s not fun. This is an alien movie and there isn’t a single bit of fun in it. Even the grandfather of serious sci-fi, Blade Runner, had fun.

So I was really bummed out about this one. It was a cool premise with a lot of opportunity but it’s just not there yet.

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

What I learned: I know this relates more to my intro than it does the script, but it’s worth noting that if you’re going to write a biopic, the number of entries into that genre has skyrocketed, which means the only way you’re going to stand out is if you do something unique. Cradle-to-grave biopics should be your last option. Think like Sorkin and what he did with Jobs. Try something different. As someone who’s been reading a lot of biopics for my contest, most of them are boring simply because they’re the exact same thing over and over again. Good luck!