A couple of weeks ago, you guys got to choose from ten loglines to determine which script should be reviewed for Amateur Friday. Today’s script finished in second place!

NEW Amateur Friday Submission Process: To submit your script for an Amateur Review, send in a PDF of your script, a PDF of the first ten pages of your script, your title, genre, logline, and finally, why I should read your script. Use my submission address please: Carsonreeves3@gmail.com. Your script and “first ten” will be posted. If you’re nervous about the effect 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: Romantic Comedy
Premise: When a burgeoning composer hits his head, he begins to hear his life’s soundtrack; a soundtrack that is prompting and pushing him back to his ex-fiance. But will he follow the guidance of the music?
About: Last week I held a mini-competition for 10 amateur Friday submissions and let you guys pick your favorite loglines. Soundtrack finished second, but when the first 10 pages of the Top 3 vote-getters were posted, Soundtrack received the best response of the bunch. Don’t worry, I’m not shafting the winner, Breathwork. I’ll be reviewing that next Friday (and I must say, it should be an interesting discussion – e-mail me if you want it). In the meantime, keep sending in those Amateur Friday entries (follow the submission process above!). With this new “Choose From 10” format I’m instituting, more of you have a chance to get your scripts seen by the world!
Writer: Nathan Shane Miller
Details: 104 pages (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

I want to say a couple of things before I start reviewing today’s script. First, my latest obsession is figuring out what makes a script “impressive” as opposed to “worth the read.” What is that special ingredient that lifts it up into that rare air?

A big part of it, I realized, was connection. You, as the reader, have to connect with the story and the characters on a personal level. If you don’t, no matter how well that story is executed, there’s going to be a divide between screenplay and reader. So the question is, how do you do that?

What I realized gave you the best chance was creating characters with depth, who are sympathetic, who are empathetic, who are relatable, and who are identifiable. If there’s something in ourselves that we see in the character, we will want to follow that character, and by association that character’s story.

But achieving that is tricky to do. You have to build a history into your character. You have to put them in situations that are relatable to others, yet still have those situations feel original and fresh. How in the world do you make something relatable yet different? I’m not sure I’ve figured that out yet. But the point of this long winded rant is that you need to be focusing on the story of your characters as opposed to the story of your story. Because your characters are what we’re going to connect with the most.

So how does Soundtrack make out in all of this? Grab your fiddle, strum a tune, and find out.

30 year old sorta-successful composer Ian is having a tough go of it. He’s got the biggest potential job of his life coming up, and he still hasn’t figured out the theme song for the main female character in the movie!

A big part of that is that he still hasn’t gotten over his ex-fiance, which is strange, because he doesn’t seem to like her all that much and he already has a new girlfriend, Tracy, who, while a little materialistic, is super supportive of his career. In fact, she’s the one who got him the meeting with the big producer who’s going to change his life.

But a few days before the meeting, Ian slips and bumps his head on the kitchen floor, and when he wakes up, well, I think you know what happens next. He starts hearing the soundtrack of his life!

No doubt, this is the best part of the screenplay. Nathan has taken the Blake Snyder “fun and games” adage and really gone to town with it. For example, when the not so nice Tracy approaches, Ian hears the “Imperial March,” Darth Vader’s theme from Star Wars.

When someone he doesn’t like approaches his door, he hears the Jaws theme. When he’s late for work, he hears an adrenaline fueled action theme. But easily my favorite moment was when he goes to see the doctor, who happens to be Asian, and inadvertently hears really racist stereotypical Asian music – not easy to explain when the doctor, in order to help him, wants to know *exactly* what he’s hearing at this moment.

But while this may be funny for us, it’s not funny for Ian, who must now pitch his idea to a producer with the soundtrack of his life pumping through his eardrums. Naturally, the pitch ends in disaster (he should have read Mike Le’s pitching interview!) but the producer decides to give him one more chance. Come up with the female lead’s theme by the end of the week and he’s hired.

However, no matter how much Ian brainstorms, he can’t figure it out. Eventually, he realizes that the only person capable of giving him the feeling he needs to complete the theme is his ex-fiance, Kaitlyn. Since Ian backed out of the wedding, though, Kaitlyn isn’t exactly rearranging her schedule to help him. In the end, Ian will need to reconcile the mistakes he made with Kaitlyn to save his career.

The reason I didn’t pick up Soundtrack earlier was simple. I’ve seen these kinds of premises before, and they almost always play out the same way. Great opening. But as soon as the charm of the concept wears out, the story collapses. In other words, after that “fun and games” section, the writer sort of realizes, “Oh shit. I have to actually write a movie now.” And while Miller lasts longer than others, Soundtrack definitely suffers from the same issue. I mean, I don’t even think there were any music cues for the last 45 pages. It was almost like the story lost confidence in itself.

But what about the characters?? Isn’t that how we started this review?

Well, let’s start with the main relationship. I thought it was pretty sloppily handled. For the majority of the script, I had no idea what the specifics of Ian and Kaitlyn’s relationship were. I didn’t know if they’d gone out for 10 weeks or 10 years. I didn’t know who broke up with whom. Heck, I didn’t even know they’d been engaged until halfway through the script. The whole relationship was so vague that I spent more time trying to figure it out than I did simply enjoying their scenes.

This lack of clarity extended to Ian’s motivation in the relationship as well. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand what he wanted out of the relationship. Did he want Kaitlyn back? Did he not want her back? Did he like her? Did he not like her? I never once got a read on his feelings, and a big part of that was how unclear their backstory was.

This vagueness was a problem in other parts of the screenplay as well. For example, I had no idea that his current girlfriend was a bad person until the musical cue of the Imperial March started playing. I was baffled. “Why is the Imperial March playing while his kick-ass girlfriend is around (who got him a great opportunity with this big producer!)?” It just didn’t make sense. Eventually I realized the girlfriend was materialistic and bad for him, but I certainly didn’t know that early on.

The moment where I officially checked out of the story though was when Ian went to Kaitlyn’s parents’ house. I had no idea why they were at the house. One second they were talking at Kaitlyn’s and the next she was like, you need to apologize to my parents! Then we spend 20-some pages at their house out of nowhere. I just didn’t know where the story was going anymore. I still wasn’t even sure if Ian liked Kaitlyn so there were absolutely no stakes to getting her parents to accept his apology.

Overall, Soundtrack was an odd duck. It started out strong. The soundtrack gimmick was great. I thought Nathan’s writing was good. He moved things along at a brisk pace. Then it hit the midpoint and started to lose steam, and by the end, I didn’t really know what we were focusing on anymore. But Miller shouldn’t be too down about this. I see good writers get stuck in this genre all the time. Maybe picking a concept with a little more meat next time will help.

[ ] Wait for the rewrite
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: Like I said, this happens a lot with these high-concept ideas. The script starts out strong because the hook is fun. But when it’s time for the script to depend on the story and not the hook, it isn’t prepared to do so and falls apart. To avoid this, make sure the basics are in place. Your character goal should be strong. Your character goal should be clear (I’m still not sure what he was trying to do with Kaitlyn so it definitely wasn’t clear in this case). And make sure the central relationship is compelling enough to last an entire movie. Again, the main relationship was so muddled/undefined that when it was time for the script to rest on it, it wasn’t prepared to do so. Get those basics in place and your script has a much better chance at working.

The quality of screenplays this week is high. But the important question is, “Can The Hitman’s Bodyguard bring us back to Manville?”

Genre: Action-Thriller
Premise: (from Black List) – The world’s best bodyguard must protect his arch nemesis, the world’s top assassin…so he can testify against a brutal dictator and save his wife.
About: Looks like the Austin Film Festival Screenplay Competition is becoming the place to get your script noticed. I remember a couple of years back it found the told-backwards tale, Shimmer Lake, one of my favorite scripts of that year. Today’s script, the newest Austin winner, was nabbed by Skydance Productions, the same company that did Mission Impossible: 4. Tom O’Connor, the writer, also wrote Fire with Fire, starring Josh Duhamel and Bruce Willis, which just wrapped. I heard they’re ordering reshoots though and adding more fire. The Hitman’s Bodyguard also finished on last year’s Black List, garnering 7 votes.
Writer: Tom O’Connor
Details: 118 pages – 2/7/11 draft (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

After Monday’s screenplay sucked 43 percent of the testosterone out of my body, leaving me scouring Itunes for downloads of Ally McBeal, I knew I was gonna need a script to bring me back into balance. I’m not going to lie. It’s been fun these last few days. I have a new appreciation for clothes shopping. Dishing gossip with friends is also a pastime I have severely undervalued. But at a certain point, you have to get back to reality. And for me, that meant Manville.

So take my hand fellow xy chromosoners. Follow me back to the other side. The grass may not be greener, but the credit card bills sure are lower.

Michael Bryce is what they call an executive protection agent. Which is a fancy way of saying he’s a bodyguard who wears nice suits. Michael is a little anal, a little uptight. But that’s because his job requires it. If you need to be protected from some of the most well-funded criminal organizations in the world, he’s the guy you want to hire

On the other end of the spectrum is Irish bloke Sean Kiernan. Sean is one of, if not the, best assassin in the world. But right now, he’s jailed in Europe. He’s turned himself in in an attempt to save his wife, who’s been jailed on bogus charges specifically so they could lure in Sean.

They tell Sean that if he testifies against his former boss, an Eastern European crime lord and one of the top terrorists in the world, that his wife will be set free. But in order for that to happen, they need to transfer Sean across the city to the courtroom, a task that’ll be near impossible with crime boss Alexander Demidov commandeering every thug in a 100 mile radius to make sure Sean is dead before he gets there. He’s already taken care of everyone else who can testify against him. Sean is the last name on the list.

True to his reputation, Sean’s van is attacked almost immediately. But while his entire police escort is massacred, Sean is able to get free and get guns. And when Sean has guns, it doesn’t matter how many men you have. You lose. He’s able to kill every last one of the thugs, but does get injured in the process. The lone Interpol agent who survives, a woman named Camelia, takes Sean to her apartment to dress the wound, and in the meantime, calls an old friend.

Michael Bryce.

When Sean and Michael see each other, the guns are up and the safeties are off. These two have been in just about every battle you can imagine between two people. They’ve nearly killed each other a dozen times. Now though, Camelia proposes her idea. They hire Michael to escort Sean to the courtroom. Of course both men balk at this idea, especially Sean, who’s never needed help in his life. But eventually he comes around, only because his wife’s freedom is his priority.

The rest of the movie is pretty much what you’d expect. The two go on the run together, encountering resistance from both Interpol and Demidov every step of the way. Yet they battle each other just as much as they battle everyone else. These alpha dogs can barely go five steps without insulting one another or bringing up some past event that they got the better of the other in. But they’ll have to keep their hatred in check if they’re going to make it to the finish line, because Demidov is dead set on a dead Sean.

If you’re going to pair up two people who know each other, one of the most important things to do is give them some real history together. The more history you can create between the characters, the more conflict and drama you can mine for their present relationship.

I read this screenwriting article awhile back about how you should never bother with backstory. Audiences don’t care. All they care about is what’s happening right now. And to a large extent, that’s true. I read a lot of scripts where writers have their characters droning on about all these past events in their lives. And while it certainly adds more depth to the characters, it halts the CURRENT action of the story. So there’s a huge trade-off to including that depth.

I’ve found, however, that when the backstory has a DIRECT RESULT on the current story, it’s much more welcomed. So here, this relationship works so much better knowing how many dust-ups the two have had with each other. For example, the two keep arguing about this one job where Sean insists he killed one of Michael’s clients and Michael insists he did not. So not only do we get the backstory that adds depth to their relationship, but it fuels the conflict in their current dynamic, a key ingredient to the script being entertaining.

And the script was clever too. Whenever you write a movie about an expert in something, you have to give us scenes that convince us of that expertise. In other words, you can’t get away with someone saying, “That Michael, I heard he’s the best bodyguard in the world!” That isn’t good enough! WE need to SEE IT. You need to SHOW US.

So Hitman starts with Michael escorting a client into a car garage and asking him where his car is. His client points to a car across the way and Michael busts out his infrared vision and notices that there’s a big red blob underneath the car. “Let’s take my car,” he says. “Why?” “Because they put a bomb on yours.” Once they get into Michael’s car, Michael tells his client to put his head down. “Why?” “They put a bomb on my car, too.” And then BOOOOM! The car they’re in BLOWS UP. But when the dust settles, they’re fine. The car is intact. Casually Michael proclaims, “Custom model.” He’d rigged the underside of his car to be bombproof. It was clever moments like this that really made the script stand out.

There are definitely some things you can pick apart though. Sean did take down 20 thugs without much of an effort when his van was attacked. So to think that he’d need a bodyguard, even with his injury…ehhh, is a bit of a stretch.

Then you have the villain, yet another Eastern European thug. These poor Third World Eastern European countries keep getting saddled with the villain roles. It’s getting cliché. Then there’s this iffy middle section of the screenplay where Sean all of a sudden decides he doesn’t have enough evidence and they need to go to another city to get more. Why Demidov’s chief hitman needs more evidence is beyond me. And it turns out they don’t get the extra evidence anyway, confirming the pointlessness of the excursion.

So the script did have some blemishes but hardly enough to place an order for Proactiv. In the end, you don’t get scripts of this quality in this genre very often. So I’ll gladly take this one!

[ ] Wait for the rewrite
[ ] wasn’t for me
[xx] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: That car-bomb scene really taught me something. An easy way to make your character badass at his job is to have something done to him that would’ve tricked any other normal person, yet your character is ready for it. As soon as we see him outsmart the baddies on that car bomb, we know he’s a badass at his profession. And we love him as a result of it. And it isn’t hard to create this effect. Just have the bad guys do something really bad, and have our hero already prepared for it.

I met Mike Le about four years ago either on Done Deal or the Craig’s List personals section. I can’t remember which. He actually watched me come up with the idea for Scriptshadow. We eventually met when he was the vice president over at HQ Pictures. I soon learned that Mike likes to keep his fingers in a lot of pies. As a screenwriter, he wrote TOKYO SUCKERPUNCH (based on the novel by Isaac Adamson) for Fox Searchlight. The project is now at Sony with Tobey Maguire attached to star and produce. He’s currently writing feature projects at Appian Way and Millar Gough Ink. He has a TV pilot with Tapestry Films, wrote the bestselling comic book MAYHEM for Image Comics, was co-executive producer on the reality show FIRST IN for BET and is currently producing K-TOWN. He’s the former assistant to Owen Wilson and Wes Anderson and was the Vice President of the aforementioned HQ Pictures, the production company of Tyrese Gibson.

That’s what led to the idea for today’s interview. Pitching is such a huge part of this business and yet there isn’t a whole lot of information on it out there. Since Mike used to listen to pitches daily as part of his job, I thought, BOOM, he’d be the perfect guy to discuss pitching with. Let’s get into it.

SS: Hey Mike, thanks for doing the interview. 

ML: No worries, Carson. You know I’ve been a fan and supporter of your blog since day one. I remember that day you walked into my office at HQ Pictures and my first thought was, “For a guy with such an ominous moniker like Scriptshadow, he sure is normal looking.”

SS: I think the word you’re looking for is “dashing.” And yes, I had an unfortunate last second wardrobe malfunction that forced me to wear my “normal person’s” clothes that day. It will never happen again. Anyway, because of your producing and screenwriting experience, I thought, “Who better to talk pitching with than Mike Le?”

ML: I’m so ready. Go for it…

SS: All right. To start off, how many pitches have you heard? 

ML: Hundreds. Too many. From writers that ran the spectrum, from established A-listers to unknown amateurs.

SS: And how did those writers get to pitch you? How does anyone get to pitch you?

ML: When I was the VP at HQ Pictures, we had a strict policy of not accepting unsolicited material, much like most of Hollywood. That means we only accepted material and pitches by writers who were repped or came through a personal referral. But I’m a writer myself, and I used to face those same barriers, so I understand how frustrating that is to those trying to break in. It’s very disheartening to slave on a script for months, even years, and then you can’t even find someone who’s willing to read the thing. So I implemented a thing at HQ, a thing called “Free Cheese Day.”

SS: Sounds delicious. Did they get two free toppings with that or did those cost extra? 

ML: Not that kind of cheese, Carson. It was something I borrowed conceptually from THE WEST WING. In that show, President Bartlett allowed one day of the year to grant access to interest groups that don’t usually get the attention of the White House, basically opening their doors to the people. Sorkin based this off of a real thing, when Andrew Jackson left a two ton block of cheese in the White House foyer for anyone to eat. So on Free Cheese Day at my company, I basically lifted our no unsolicited material policy, and me and my assistant and team of 6 script readers opened and read query letters that had been piling up. If we found something we liked, we would call the writer and ask them to talk about the script, basically pitch it over the phone.

SS: Okay now you have me curious. Did you find anything from those? 

ML: Sadly no. There were a couple of strong concepts that hooked me but the executions were poor. I wasn’t as lucky as you to find an undiscovered gem like THE DISCIPLE PROGRAM. Which by the way is not only a great script, but Tyler is a really nice and solid dude. I would kill to find and break a talent like him. Congats on that!

SS: Thanks and yeah, I hope to have some new news on Tyler soon. Here’s my question though – what about getting pitches at other companies? How would one go about that? 

ML: You can’t just walk into a studio and start pitching. You have to be invited to pitch. And to get invited, they (Hollywood) needs to become a fan of your writing first. Take Tyler for example. He’s got a lot of heat right now because everyone in town read his script. They’ve become fans because of THE DISCIPLE PROGRAM, and based off the strength of it, Tyler will get countless invites to pitch.

SS: Hmmm, you can’t just walk into studios and start pitching huh? That explains a LOT. Okay so lets move to the pitches themselves. What do good pitches have in common? What do bad pitches have in common? 

ML: The good ones I can tell what the movie is within the first minute of the pitch. I can clearly understand who the characters are, the conflicts, the goals, etc. If a writer can make me clearly see the movie, that means the writer can clearly see the movie, which indicates the writer has thoroughly worked out the story. The bad ones are just the opposite, they’re rambling, confusing, no sense of story but just a series of situations strung together. They fall apart after a few questions. The good ones get stronger after a few questions.

SS: So you’re constantly questioning people during these pitches? Which means you gotta be able to think on the fly. I assume this is where the newbies fall apart? 

ML: I don’t know if the ability to think on the fly is indicative of a newbie writer versus an experienced writer. Some people just have a natural talent for it, and some people just clam up when questioned. If you have a natural ability to insightfully maneuver through creative questions without sounding like an idiot, than you’re ahead of the game. Execs and producers want to work with writers who love talking about story, who welcome challenging questions, who can defend their vision. Perhaps newbies suffer more from this simply because of a lack of experience. But without every meeting, every pitch, being good in the room gets easier.

SS: These days, it seems like every agent wants a writer who’s “good in a room,” someone who can not only write, but pitch. Why is “being good in a room” so important in Hollywood? 

ML: Because Hollywood is in the business of ideas, and pitching is a dynamic way of sharing and conveying ideas. If you’re great at pitching, that’s a pretty good indication you’re great at engaging people. It’s important to be able to pitch because it’s not just about your script but pitching yourself as a person. Hollywood wants to know if they can work with you or you’re some weirdo that should have never gotten past the studio gates. It’s okay to be a weirdo or eccentric in Hollywood, many are…you just can’t be creepy or come off as a waste of time.

SS: “Don’t be a weirdo.” I’m learning a lot here that I wish I would’ve known earlier. So pitching is also about people skills? 

ML: Very much so. And that’s why a lot of writers, even professionals, are scared to death of pitching. Look, I’m going to generalize here but I’m confident in saying most writers and other creative types are probably introverts. I sure as hell was one. Problem is we live in a society that has a bias towards extroverts and Hollywood is a culture that magnifies that. Movie stars seem like mega-extroverts right because they’re so fearless and colorful on the screen. But when you meet them in person or see them in interviews, they can be awkward and unsure of themselves without a script. That’s because actors are comfortable performing as characters, but are uncomfortable performing as themselves. It’s the same thing with screenwriters, they’re comfortable telling stories through their characters on the page, but uncomfortable performing the story as themselves in a pitch meeting. The journey of the screenwriter is one conundrum after another. Writing requires solitude, solitude breeds introverts, but filmmaking is a collaborative art that requires good people skills and the ability to adapt in high-pressure social situations. You can’t be a successful screenwriter and work in a vacuum, you eventually have to get out and try to win people over. It’s not like novelists who have the luxury of being anti-social. Novelists write their books, mail off their manuscripts and hope someone publishes it and sends back a check without ever having to leave their comfort zone.

SS: You said a lot of professional screenwriters are scared to death of pitching. Can you expand on that? 

ML: It’s popular to quote Malcolm Gladwell these days, especially his theory of “10,000 hours.” In his book OUTLIERS, he says you can only become good at something after doing it over and over again for at least 10,000 hours. It’s more complicated than that because the rest of the book factors in upbringing, access to resources, etc. But for the purpose of our discussion, let’s keep focused on the 10,000 hours theory. Say a screenwriter has put in at least 10,000 hours at writing, and he goes on to sell his first spec script. Boom, his life changes, big trade announcement, everybody in town in wants to meet with him. Next thing he knows, his reps want him pitching ideas and studios want him coming in to give takes on assignments. Here’s the problem, the screenwriter has invested 10,000 plus hours at writing to become a professional screenwriter but has zero experience pitching. So now it’s baptism by fire as he’s forced head first into pitching. The writer has to transform from introvert to extrovert overnight.

SS: Whoa, you’re making this sound terrifying. How the hell do you get 10,000 hours of pitching experience to prepare you for those moments if you’ve never done it before?? 

ML: Here’s the good news: screenwriters love movies, which means they love talking about movies. Every time you’re discussing films with someone, whether it’s with a circle of friends, around the dining table with family, or around the water cooler at work, you have to treat it like a pitch. Boiled down to its essence, a pitch is much like that moment when you come out of the theater after seeing an amazing movie. You bump into a friend in the lobby and you’re bursting with excitement and telling your friend he has to see this movie and you go on to broadly explain what is so exciting about it. If you treat everything like a pitch, then you’re constantly practicing pitching.

SS: So sometimes a studio will buy a script and sometimes they’ll buy a pitch. Why would they buy something that’s not even written yet? I mean, how do they know it’s not going to be terrible? Isn’t that a huge gamble? 

ML: First, everything in this business is a huge gamble. Second, studios never buy pitches from unknown writers.

SS: Never? 

ML: Well, I’m sure historically in the 100 plus years of Hollywood a few unknown writers got lucky and sold an idea. But I couldn’t name them and neither can you. Hollywood needs proof of execution before they buy anything from you. My first studio gig as a writer was adapting the novel TOKYO SUCKERPUNCH for Fox Searchlight, but it was a project that I pitched to them. And the only reason I was allowed in the room to pitch was because Searchlight previously read my spec script NEON JUNKIES. NEON JUNKIES ended up not selling but it got a lot of heat around town and was my proof of execution. You also have to keep in mind that was a few years ago and the market is different now, it’s much more difficult to sell a pitch these days unless you’re Zaillian or Koepp who can pretty much sell anything they sneeze on. So yeah, buying a pitch is a gamble but it’s less of a gamble when you know that writer has a track record of proven execution.

SS: Let’s say I have this AWESOME idea for a movie about snowflakes that come to life and start killing people. I have my first ever meeting with a producer tomorrow and I’m planning to pitch it. What should I expect? At what point am I expected to start pitching? 

ML: I would expect no one would buy your silly idea.

SS: No, you don’t understand. It’s really good and it has this wicked third act twist. I’m not going to give anything away but I will tell you that Santa Clause is involved. 

ML: Okay, I’ll play along… Given your scenario, we have to presume, as I said before, the producer is already a fan of your writing cause you wouldn’t even get in the room otherwise. The best pitches are the most casual ones, where you start off the meeting with small talk with the producer or executive. This is where you engage and connect with them on a personal level. It is so important for writers to think of these people as their peers and treat them as such. Producers would rather work with someone who they feel like they can have a beer with instead of working with someone who is obviously intimidated by them. The good producers don’t want a writer who is too scared to fight for what they believe in. Once you’ve made that personal connection within the first 5 minutes of your meeting, organically slide into your pitch.

SS: Okay now how long am I expected to talk about my story? Two minutes? Five minutes? 

ML: The shorter, the better. I think 5 – 10 minutes is best. One of the best pitches I heard was literally just a few sentences. Writer came in and said, “My script is a FREAKY FRIDAY type of comedy called WEEKEND WARRIOR. It’s about an out of shape football fan who switches bodies with the NFL’s greatest player.” Then suddenly, the door burst open and actors dressed like a football player, a regular guy, a gaggle of cheerleaders, and a marching band poured into my office. The band played a song while the cheerleaders danced around, and the player and regular guy threw a football back and forth. The pitch was less than 3 minutes. Great concept, lively presentation, I couldn’t wait to read the script. I was heartbroken when the script wasn’t good.

SS: So it’s okay to be gimmicky in your pitch then? It’s not looked down upon? 

ML: Execs and producers hear so many pitches that they appreciate anything that makes them more unique and fun. I remember a writer friend who pitched a Christmas movie in a Santa outfit. Can it be too gimmicky? I’m sure there’s a line somewhere that shouldn’t be crossed, but I don’t know where it is.

SS: So what’s the basic approach to the pitch? Do I just hit on the key points (inciting incident, first act turn, character arc, etc.) You’ve heard hundreds of pitches. What usually works best? 

ML: You have to start with the hook aka the concept. Coming up with a new and unique hook that is easily digestible is probably the hardest part of screenwriting.

SS: Why is it so hard? Is it because every idea under the sun has already been done? 

ML: No, that’s a cop-out. We’re fuckin’ writers, our job is to come up with new and unique ideas. I think a reason why it’s hard is because too many writers don’t truly understand what the term “high-concept” means. High concept doesn’t necessarily mean bigger. It doesn’t mean more locations and bigger action scenes. Writers have pitched me these complicated sci-fi ideas that are about parallel universes on top of warring empires on top of alien races set against intergalactic politics. High concept means a broad idea with a strong hook that poses a over-arching “what if” scenario. Like the classic example of LIAR LIAR, what if a lawyer could only tell the truth? Or JURASSIC PARK, what if we were able to clone dinosaurs? Smaller movies can be high concept as well, such as MEMENTO, what if a man suffering from short-term memory had to find his wife’s killer?

SS: And what happens when I’m finished? Do they go, “Yes, I want to buy that. Let’s do it?” Or “No, that’s not for me?” Is there some protocol that’s used? A code I have to learn like In and Out’s secret menu? Like “Sounds cool” is code for “sucky idea?” 

ML: Not every executive or producer is created equal. They all respond differently. Some maintain a poker face even if they’re over the moon about your idea. Some are too excited and give you a false impression of their interest level. Those are the ones where you leave a meeting feeling great about yourself and you’re dreaming of buying that new car until your agent calls to tell you they didn’t bite. Depending on where you are on the writer’s food change, most of them time you’re not pitching to the ultimate decision-maker. So really, the executive you’re pitching to can’t get too excited because they have to re-pitch it to their bosses. So the writer may be asked to come back and pitch a few more times as the idea climbs the ladder. You can tell if they’re interested in your pitch by the questions they ask afterwards.

SS: Like what questions? I need to know the questions! 

ML: If they’re interested, they’ll ask questions that help the writer build on the pitch. Questions like, “What if the protagonist’s original sin was B instead of A?” Or, “Maybe the third act set piece could take place in B instead of A?” Those are questions that show they’re interested enough to help improve. It’s questions like, “What makes your story any different from AVATAR?” that you don’t want.

SS: What if you’re in the middle of a pitch and you can see that the other person is bored out of their mind. What do you do then?? 

ML: The first rule to pitching is that you always have to be in control of the room. I’ll give a personal example, this is a true story: Years ago, I went in to CAA to pitch an agent. I was pitching as a producer cause the agent repped some directors I was hoping to get attached to a pair of projects. So the agent was on the phone as his assistant shuffled me into the office. I sat down on the couch as the agent gestured to me from behind his desk, indicating with his pointed index finger he’d be with me in a minute. As the agent continued talking on the phone, I noticed on his desk were a few empty Starbucks cups. In addition, I saw the agent yawn like three times while on the phone. He finally hung up, then joined me on the couch. He yawned again as he shook my hand, and I registered the low-energy of his body language. Dread slowly seeps in. I jumped into my first pitch and halfway through it, the agent yawned a few more times and his eyes were glazed. He was honestly barely taking in my words. As I continued the pitch, I noticed behind him were two framed photos on a mantle. One was a photo of him and his wife. The other photo was that of an infant. I immediately connected the dots: New born baby, not much sleep, agent’s been caffeinating all day, it’s 4pm in the afternoon and he’s crashing. The worst conditions for me to pitch in.

So I told the agent to stand up. He was startled by my request, stared at me blankly. I stood up, asked him again to get up. Hesitantly, he finally stands up and I tell him I’m going to show him this Vietnamese remedy that will keep him awake for the rest of the day. I backed up against the wall of his office and he did the same on the opposite end of the room. I told him to keep his heels to the wall and lean forward as far as he can without falling. I did so, he followed. Then I told him to take three deep breaths but on the third breath hold it in for 10 seconds. We did exactly that. Next I told him to shake his hands, then clap them together 3 times because that sends electrical pulses through your arms, to your spine, which stimulates the brain. We both clapped our hands three times very loudly. I could see his assistant staring at us through the door. I asked the agent how did he feel? His eyes popped wide open, said he felt great! I told him it’s a trick my mother taught and it never fails. So before the agent could even sit back down, I immediately jumped into my second pitch. This time the agent was fully alert, his shoulders perked, his eyes alive, he focused on my words. By the end of my pitch, he was excited about my projects, said he couldn’t wait to give them to his director clients. So here’s the thing… There is no such Vietnamese remedy. I just made that up on the spot because I had to do something to shake the agent up. I just needed him to stop yawning for five minutes while I pitched. Moral of the story: Always be in control of the room.

SS: Got it. So execs falling asleep during your pitch is not good. Boy I wish I would’ve known that one last week. So what are some of the pitfalls to watch out for when pitching? 

ML: The thing I hate the most is when writers read their pitches to me. One writer had his lengthy pitch written out in 10 pages and had them sitting on his lap. The whole time as he slogged through the pitch, I watched him flip the pages. So instead of being caught up in the story he’s pitching, I was thinking, “Oh my God, he has 8 more pages to go.” It’s okay to have notes or bullet points sitting in front of you when you pitch, but keep it to a page or a few note cards. I mean, these days you can have your notes on an iPad or Kindle. Some writers like to memorize their pitches, which is fine as long as your delivery isn’t rigid and feel too practiced.

SS: What about visuals? Should I and can I bring anything visual to the pitch? 

ML: Visuals are definitely encouraged. Especially if you’re pitching a huge concept that requires a lot of world building, like unique alien landscapes, futuristic technology, otherworldly monsters, supernatural beings, etc. Also, if you’re re-inventing iconic characters you’ll need to clearly convey what you’re going for. For example, everybody knows what THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA looks like, but if you were pitching a steampunk re-imagining of the character, you better have a way to show that. If you’re not a competent artist, hire someone to illustrate the images. It’s a worthwhile investment. And you don’t have to break the bank hiring an experienced artist. I believe here on Scriptshadow you will be offering a service where artists create concept art and such, correct?

SS: Hmmm, no comment on that one. We will have to see! Now pitching isn’t just limited to meetings. You can pitch someone anywhere. In the elevator, in passing, at lunch. It seems like the pitches in these situations are a lot more informal. So how do you approach them? I’m assuming they’re more conversational in nature? 

ML: Every pitch should be conversational in nature. But we have to be careful here. I think amateur writers, and anyone else on the outside looking in, have this romanticized notion on the culture of pitching. They think it’s like Robert Altman’s THE PLAYER where writers can sell an idea if they just get the opportunity to corner a studio exec for 5 minutes pool-side at The Standard Hotel. Yes, these things do happen because it’s Hollywood and anything can happen here (you’re talking to a guy who was discovered working at a Blockbuster by Owen Wilson), but it’s not exactly like the Wild West where roaming writers are ready to be the fastest pitch on the draw at every moment. But if you’re lucky enough to get Bruckheimer’s attention at a party or in the check out lane at Gelson’s, then go ahead and be fearless and pitch. Worst thing is he says no, but at least you’ll get a good story out of it. You should treat every pitch with the same energy, whether it’s over lunch or in the room at a studio.

SS: That’s how you landed the assistant job with Owen Wilson? I have to know more about that. And hey, we can even make it relevant, since you were essentially pitching yourself to him. So, how did that whole thing happen? 

ML: Sure, there’s actually a detailed story of it here.

SS: What was the worst pitch experience you had to endure, both as the pitcher and pitchee? 

ML: I already gave you my worst personal experience giving a pitch. But the worst experience hearing a pitch was from a really established screenwriter. I mean, this guy wrote a hit movie a few years back that held the #1 spot three weeks in a row. So when his manager called me and said he wants to pitch me an idea, of course I was excited. Writer comes in and just goes on to mumble through a 45 minute pitch. I just remember after 20 minutes, the writer said, “And that’s the end of the first act.” I almost fell off my chair.

SS: Okay so before I leave, can you give me like a checklist of the most important things I should have squared away before I go into a pitch? Sort of like a pitch kit? 

ML: Well, the process is different for everyone but to answer broadly: Make sure you have your pitch notes, any visual aid, and a notebook to jot down any questions or comments the exec/producer might have, for they may be helpful as you refine the pitch. Before the pitch meeting, pump yourself up. Whether that means listening to Eminem, gulping down a Red Bull, hitting the gym, or watching Alec Baldwin’s monologue in GLENGARY GLEN ROSS. Make it a ritual. Because if it works for you the first time, it will give a sense of comfort that it can work again, and you’ll have something in your control that improves your pitching skills and gets you in that zone.

SS: Awesome, so as long as I have you here. I have this idea for a movie. Are you ready for this? What if Robin Hood…was actually a woman? Now stay with me here– 

ML: Carson?

SS: Huh? 

ML: I have to go now.

SS: Now is this code?  Are you trying to say something here and I’m supposed to understand the subtext?

ML: Carson, I’m leaving. Good-bye.

SS: Oh, okay, no problem. We’ll talk again I’m sure. Thanks Mike! 

Mike Le is repped at APA and manager Jonathan Hung. You can follow him on his Twitter Feed @DFTVYP.

I have three words for when it comes to this whacked-out screenplay: The Squirrel Scene. Nothing more needs to be said.

Genre: Comedy/Satire
Premise: (from Black List) A satirically dark comedy about a homicidal foreclosure victim kidnapping a real estate agent and planning to kill her in the housing development where she finagled money from customers like him.
About: This script finished tied at the bottom of the 2011 Black List with 6 votes. Del Tredici is repped by WME and managed by Mosaic. He’s written exclusively in TV up to this point, penning episodes of 30 Rock and Bored To Death (among others).
Writer: Luke Del Tredici
Details: 104 pages – 8/21/10 Fifth Draft (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

Today’s script is one I’d never heard of before. And why would I have? It doesn’t even have a proper title. Which actually makes sense because when you read it, you realize it doesn’t have a proper anything. This script is about as improper as it gets. Del Tredici is clearly an insane person. I imagine him stalking Liz Lemon in his dreams with a cheese grater. Read this script and you’ll realize that’s not as weird a statement as you think it is.

But here’s the catch. Insanity can be a good thing for writers. With the right amount of focus, insanity can lead to genius! Edgar Allan Poe was insane right? And he came up with some pretty cool stuff. I don’t know if I’m ready to put Del Tredici in the same league as Poe just yet, but I can tell you this: You will not forget this script after you read it. I promise you that.

We’re in Harding, Arizona, June 2007. Harding is one of those upscale communities that investors just decided to build. It didn’t get there after years of growth. They took the Field Of Dreams mentality: “If we build a bunch of McMansions, they will come.” Will they Ray? Will they?

Cassie Francis is a real estate agent in Harding. She’s riding the wave of this booming industry, even owning one of these McMansions herself! Everything’s going swimmingly. That is until the housing market implodes.

Cut to two years later and the community is a ghost town. Nine out of every ten houses have been deserted. Cassie is one of the few remaining stragglers and it doesn’t look like she’ll be able to hold on much longer. She hasn’t sold a house in six months and her boss is coming up with more reasons to fire her than keep her. That’ll end up being the least of her worries though, since when she comes into work, she inadvertently witnesses an adjustable-rate mortgage victim sort of accidentally kill the big cheese.

This once normal but now crazed home-owner, Sonny, has no choice but to do something about the lone witness, so he kidnaps Cassie and brings her back to his home, which happens to be in the same community she lives in.

At first things are light and fluffy. Sonny looks like he’s going to let Cassie go as long as she promises not to tell anybody what she saw. But then his ex-wife shows up, starts pushing his buttons, and he ends up killing her too! Now that Cassie’ been a witness to TWO murders, he realizes he has to get rid of her. In order to make sure nobody’s looking for Cassie though, he decides to go to her house and snatch up her teenage daughter as well.

While that’s going on, Cassie manages to escape, and while Sonny brings her daughter back, she’s able to call the police. The thing is, there’s only one cop in this hellhole. The rest had to be let go when all these rich folks who couldn’t pay their mortgages fled town.

Now Cassie and this one cop must try and find which house she was actually being held in – not an easy task since every single house looks exactly the same! Cassie eventually finds and rescues her daughter, but with a very determined Sonny on their trail, escape is anything but guaranteed.

This script is so damn weird. But weird in a deliriously awesome way!

It all starts with Sonny, who’s one of the most unpredictable villains you’ll ever meet. One second he’s cozy and comforting and telling our heroine that he’s going to let her go. The next he’s a psychotic serial killer having our poor protagonist and her daughter dig their own graves. This dude was like a giant suspense yo-yo, with no rhyme or reason to his actions. And boy did that make him terrifying.

But none of his actions compare to the best scene I’ve read in a script all year. I’m not going to spoil it because you have to read the scene yourself to believe it. I will refer to it only as…The Squirrel Scene. I have never been so terrified of squirrels in my life. This scene has made me reevaluate squirrels as animals. I’m thinking of calling the National Animal Control Center and seeing if there’s a way we can get rid of all squirrels on the planet just because of this scene. It’s such a great scene, in fact, that I think this movie is worth making JUST for this scene. And I realize how ridiculous that sounds but this scene is just so unexpected and so weird and so terrifying that I stand by it.

Outside of that, there’s a nice little statement going on about the housing crisis. While I didn’t personally feel the sting of that implosion, I know people who did. And I just remember how helpless and angry they felt – like they’d been duped and there was nobody out there willing to help them. I remember them having to jump through a million hoops just to get a minor extension and how oftentimes, even when they did everything right, they’d still get screwed. In that sense, Sonny embodies everybody’s frustration. And without getting too deep, there’s a strange part of you that understands him – that understands why he’s gone nutzos. And it’s that subtext that makes this screenplay more than just a silly exercise in weird comedic choices.

I only disliked two things about the script. The first is it felt a little clunky at times. The writing wasn’t as smooth as maybe it could’ve been. And the other was the ex-husband stuff. Cassie has this ex-husband who’s now dating a 24-year-old fluzie who’s quite possibly the dumbest girl in the world. He’s the only person she’s able to contact for help so he has to drive back to save her with his nagging girlfriend tagging along. It’s not a terrible subplot by any means but it just gets old quickly. We keep cutting back to the car, listening to the same argument over and over again (“Why are we doing this?”). I suppose it had potential but I’d rather have stayed back where all the action was.

In the end, I think you gotta admire Del Tredici for taking so many chances. When I read scripts like The Knoll or Selfless, I’m always bummed out by how predictable they are. The writers never take a single chance! They do everything exactly by the book. This script is the opposite. And it’s really original as a result. I challenge anybody to read this script and forget about it. It’s impossible. This one would get people talking if it ever became a movie. Let’s hope that that happens.

[ ] Wait for the rewrite
[ ] wasn’t for me
[xx] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: One of the easiest ways to write an original scene is to ask yourself, “What’s the last thing my audience expects this character to do right now?” Everybody knows what the character would *likely* do. We’ve seen enough movies to be able to predict that. So put your thinking cap on and ask what it is they’d *least likely* do. When Sonny kidnaps Cassie, bringing her to his house, we think we know what’s going to happen. He’s going to tie her up and threaten her and blah blah blah. But the writer asks that question, “What’s the last thing the audience expects Sonny to do right now?” Why: Give Cassie a tour of the house of course! So we get this awkward but intriguing scene where Sonny gives his kidnapped captor a tour of his place. Not only is it original, but it creates the added benefit of making our villain seem even scarier. If this guy is so delusional that he’s giving the girl he kidnapped a tour of his place, then how crazy can he be??

Peter Pan mixed with Lord Of The Flies mixed with…zombies? Sounds like an interesting little screenplay. Let’s find out if guest reviewer Amy Suto liked it…

Since I’m tired of giving you guys vague updates about my book, the site re-launch, and Twit-Pitch, I’m putting together an official schedule (with real dates!) that I plan to post this weekend. I’m like the U.S. Government. I’m posting about a post that I’ll make later. Heh heh. In the meantime, I’m bringing back guest reviewer Amy Suto, (who reviewed Celeste and Jesse Forever a month ago) to take on some zombie madness. Or, errr…are they zombies? I’m confused. You know what, I’ll just let Amy clear it up.