Wait a minute. A 2011 Black List comedy that’s actually funny? Can it be? Or has Carson once again misjudged the definition of “comedy?”

Genre: Comedy
Premise: Taking place over one day, a group of couples deal with a myriad of issues while attending a wedding together.
About: This was originally sold as a pitch to CBS films in August of last year. The subsequent script finished at the bottom of the 2011 Black List with six votes.
Writer: Andrew Goldberg
Details: 104 pages, September 14, 2011 (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’m ready for the claws to come out. It’s another big comedy script which also happens to be a comedy script that Carson likes. And we all know how those go. Despite some of these scripts being loved by everybody in Hollywood, they seem to be hated by you guys! Which means you’re all wrong! But I do have a streak going with Winter’s Discontent here. Granted it’s a streak of one. But that’s better than the streak I usually have going, which is zero.

Here’s the thing with today’s script though – the idea behind it is pretty genius. An entire movie based around a wedding? I’m not sure that’s ever been done before in a comedy. We’ve seen plenty of movies leading up to weddings. But I’m not sure we’ve had a comedy that’s *just about* the day of the wedding itself. It’s one of those ideas that’s so simple, you wonder why you didn’t come up with it yourself.

Anyway, we start out with Tim and Beth, a married couple in their 30s. Tim is madly in love with his wife but his wife doesn’t seem nearly as enthusiastic. In fact, once at the wedding, when the bride and groom finally say, “I do,” Beth tells Tim, “I don’t,” informing him she’s filing for divorce. A baffled Tim will now spend the rest of the wedding trying to figure out where his marriage went wrong – and why his wife seems to be having so much fun with this mysterious guy he’s never seen before.

Roger and Kate are an interesting ex-couple. They used to go out until Kate found out Roger was having sex with half of America. She subsequently jumped ship and has spent the better part of a year trying to get over him. She’s finally succeeded, finding a guy she really likes, who she’s brought to the wedding. When Roger finds out Kate has officially moved on, he of course ditches his date and focuses exclusively on getting Kate back.

Danny is the class clown/best man. He’s the overweight jokester who’s great for a laugh but not very good with the ladies. He’s shown up here by himself – the way he always rolls – and plans on getting wasted and having a great time with the guys. But when he makes a connection with the wedding singer, a hottie named Larissa, he has to find out if she’s just being nice because this is a wedding or if she really likes him.

Ryan and Caroline have been together for three years and it’s just hit Caroline that he’s never going to propose. When’s the last time you want to go to a wedding? When you learn the guy you’re with never wants to get married. So as she sees all of this love swirling around her, she becomes more and more frustrated, and resolves to do something about it, to Ryan’s horror.

There are plenty of other wedding favorites, like the weirdo uncle who’s constantly saying inappropriate things and staring at young girls. There’s the girl who showed up without a date and has to deal with the all the questions about her ex-boyfriend. And there’s the 17-year-old who’s looking to get deflowered.

I don’t really know what to say about this script other than it’s really good! It’s sort of like “Can’t Hardly Wait” but in wedding form. I love the contained time frame idea. It makes the story so immediate. Everything needs to happen RIGHT NOW so you know all of these unresolved relationships need to get resolved TONIGHT. And that keeps each relationship moving along at a brisk clip. Whenever we cut to someone, they’re usually in the throes of an important moment – something you don’t always get when the time frame for the story is spread out over weeks or months.

And that’s really the key to making these movies work. When you don’t have an overriding concept – in other words, a main character with a goal (find the Ark, prove the one-armed man killed my wife, get to Paradise Falls), the focus shifts over to the unresolved relationships. These will be the engines that carry the story forward.

It’s so important that you understand this because a lot of beginners don’t realize without a big character goal, the story can go south quickly. But if you create a bunch of interesting characters who have big problems, then every time we cut back to them, there’s going to be something interesting going on. We want to know how that conflict is going to get resolved. And that’s another key word here – conflict. Because these relationships are unresolved, there’s always conflict. And conflict is the heart of drama and drama is the key to entertaining.

In other words, if all of these people are happy, you don’t have a movie. So when we cut back to Kate and Roger, we’re wondering, is he going to convince her to be with him again? Or with Tim – Is he going to get his wife back? Or with Caroline – Is she finally going to confront Ryan about their relationship? Or with Jeremy, the 17-year-old – Is he finally going to get laid?!

I’ve read versions of these stories where the writers have no unresolved issues to play with. They then try to fill that void with “funny” dialogue – observations about people at the wedding, or crass sex jokes. The scenes feel desperate, though, because they’re just filling time. When you’ve built real problems and issues that need to be resolved, you don’t need to worry about writing funny dialogue. The dialogue ends up writing itself.

And then there are just a bunch of nice touches to the story. I love this idea that we never see the bride and groom. We only see their backs or flashes of them – never their faces. For once, this is about the people *at* the wedding as opposed to the people getting married. That was really clever.

And easily my favorite character was the creepy uncle. We’ve all seen this guy at our own weddings and boy he is on fire here. He wears sunglasses the whole night so nobody can see his eyes. He laughs at the most inappropriate moments. He calls Danny “Rashad” for some reason and thinks he’s a cop. He’s hilarious.

And the relationships were all well-handled. I particularly liked the Danny and Larissa storyline. I loved how he was built up as the underdog – the loner. And when the wedding singer starts flirting with him, he (and the rest of the guys) have to figure out if she’s just doing it because that’s her job or if she’s doing it because she really likes him. We love Danny so much that we’re on the edge of our seats trying to find out the answer to this question ourselves!

You know, this script came REALLY close to getting an impressive, simply because I couldn’t find anything wrong with it. But much like “Can’t Hardly Wait,” there was just something indefinable missing – an x-factor to really take it over the top. Maybe it was the lack of that big unforgettable character (although the uncle comes close – he was more of a sideshow). Maybe it was the lack of surprises. I’m not sure. But there’s *something* missing here. Still, this was a really good script.

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

What I learned: A goal and a ticking time bomb aren’t as important in stories which take place over a short period of time. The whole point of the character goal is to push the story along. But if the timeframe is contained (24 or 48 hours), the story tends to push itself along. You saw the same thing in movies like “Dazed and Confused” and “Can’t Hardly Wait,” which take place over one day. Likewise, a ticking time bomb doesn’t need to be a dominant part of the plot because the point of a ticking time bomb is to create urgency. If your story takes place inside of a day, the urgency is inherent. That’s not to say you *shouldn’t* use these tools in these situations. Just that they’re not as big of a factor in the story’s success.

Today’s amateur screenplay teaches us that Grandma may not be as cute and cuddly as you think she is.

Amateur Friday Submission Process: To submit your script for an Amateur Review, send it in PDF form, along with your title, genre, logline, and why I should read your script to Carsonreeves3@gmail.com. Keep in mind your script will be posted in the review (feel free to keep your identity and script title private by providing an alias name and/or title). Also, it’s a good idea to resubmit every couple of weeks so that your submission stays near the top of the pile.

Genre: Thriller
Premise: Before he can break up a well-connected ring of terminally ill senior citizen suicide bomber killers for hire, an FBI agent must confront the sweet little old lady sent to kill him.
Writer: Patrick J. Power
Details: 100 pages

I have a soft spot for people who’ve been trying to get their scripts read on the site forever. Especially people who have been so supportive of Scriptshadow. I feel like they deserve to be rewarded. Which is why I chose today’s script. Patrick has been very persistent (yet polite) in his attempts to get his script read so I felt like he deserved a shot.

But before we get to that, I want to point out why I never would’ve read it otherwise. The premise feels goofy to me – one of those premises where you’re not sure if it’s a thriller or a comedy. And while that’s fine if it turns out to be a comedy, it’s not fine if it turns out to be a thriller. Old people suicide bombers? I don’t know. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke. Am I off base with that?

But hey, once I pop open a script, I’m MORE than ready to be proven wrong. Every script deserves a fair shot and believe me, I wanted nothing more than to love this.

Paul Lucas is a San Diego FBI agent hanging out at the federal building, preparing to watch a Colombian drug lord walk free. Then, while the lawyer makes an official statement for his client, a large blast blows both of them to pieces. When the FBI takes a later look at the security footage, they see a little old lady named Juliet Ivy standing next to the duo. Hmmmm. I knew old people were gassy but this is too much.

After 15 more characters are introduced inside roughly 7 pages, Paul decides to take a closer look at the little old lady. He heads over to her son’s home and learns that Juliet had cancer and belonged to an upscale hospice known as “The Healthful Healing Medical Center.” Paul speeds over there and meets the suspicious manager, who confirms that Juliet had a one million dollar life insurance policy. Paul rightly wonders how an 85-year-old woman secures a one million dollar life insurance policy.

Off in another part of the city, someone on a gondola blows up another few people and when they look into it, they find that that too was done by a senior citizen. As if allowing these people behind the wheel wasn’t enough! So now Paul realizes they’re dealing with organized attacks. But where are these attacks being ordered from and why??

Eventually, Paul finds out that it all goes back to that Healthful Healing place. So he finds an old retired FBI agent, Norman, who has cancer (I think – he might’ve been faking – I’m still not sure) and sends him in undercover to find out exactly what’s going on.

The focus of the story then shifts over to Norman, who realizes that one of the women at the center, Mary Margaret, has been there for a long time. In a place where people go to die, this stands out as a red flag. Indeed, Mary Margaret turns out to be the leader of this crime syndicate, sending old people out there to blow pre-determined targets up. I have to admit that I never figured out what her scheme was, but it seemed very important to Mary Margaret. And I suppose that’s all that matters.

Patrick and I have an interesting relationship. He used to write me all the time with these nice e-mails pointing out plot synopsis mistakes I’d made in my reviews. If I said that the aunt slept with Larry, he would send me an e-mail explaining that, no, it was actually the ex-wife that slept with Larry. Over time, however, he became less cordial, and just started sending messages like: “Not Don. Joe!”

I bring this up because I’m sure I screwed up at least some of the synopsis here. But in my defense, there were like 35 characters in this script. Which is actually a great place to start. I’m kind of shocked. For someone I know reads the site all the time, why would they make the one mistake I rail against the most – insane character counts. ESPECIALLY on Amateur Friday! Instead of going on a thousand word rant about this issue like I usually do, I’ll just say that the insane character count made it impossible for me to keep track of everyone and everything that was going on.

But that issue pales in comparison to my main critique of the screenplay. And this is the part of my job I hate the most because it’s the most painful critique you can give a writer: The concept here simply doesn’t work.

It’s too goofy. You’re talking about old people suicide bombers. There isn’t a story you can wrap around that idea that doesn’t feel silly. I could never get past that while reading the script.

But even if the concept were squared away, there were still too many wonky choices in this screenplay. For example, you have Norman, who jumps into the script at the midpoint. We’ve barely met the guy, yet all of a sudden he’s thrust into, basically, the protagonist role of the story. That’s just a strange thing to ask the reader to roll with. You’re following one hero. Then midway through the story, you say, “Let’s go follow this other guy instead.”

And then you have the strange choice of giving Paul terminal cancer. That was the official point where I realized the train had gone off the tracks. You have a story based on a bunch of old people who have terminal cancer, then you also give your main younger character terminal cancer as well?? It’s just such a bizarre coincidental choice that calls into question the entire story.

Finally, I’m not sure what that climax had to do with anything. There were a few mentions of this boat called “Code Blue” over the course of the script. Since that was also the title of the movie, I tabbed it as important. But it didn’t play into the story until this final scene when, for some reason, everybody went out on the Code Blue for a big showdown. I just didn’t understand what was going on. And I’m still not sure what Mary and her group were ultimately trying to achieve.

I know how obsessed Patrick is with attention to detail so I’m sure he could lay out for me, in a specific line by line breakdown, all of the places in the script where this stuff was explained. But when you’re reading a script, it doesn’t work like that. Once you start losing confidence in the story, it becomes harder and harder to stay invested in it. I didn’t believe in the concept. The never-ending character count had me forgetting who was who. And the switch to a different story and different main character halfway in had me scrambling to muster up the energy just to finish the script, much less make sense of it.

I know how long Patrick’s been trying to get me to read this, so it sucks I didn’t fall in love with it. But I do think a good lesson can come of it. This script needs to be retired and Patrick needs to move on to a snazzier concept, something more believable, less silly, and that readers can really sink their teeth into. All of the problems in this screenplay come back to a writer trying to make a concept work that can’t work. I would love to see Patrick tackle something that has a chance from the beginning. And I’d also love to hear your thoughts about this premise. Am I right? Does it feel like a bad joke? Or am I way off base and this concept actually has potential? Believe me, I’d be more than happy to be proven wrong because I HATE telling writers to scrap an idea they’ve labored months over and start something else.

Script link: Code Blue

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

What I learned: I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again. The number one way to kill your chances of getting a script read is a bad premise. I hear writers say it all the time: “Nobody will read my script.” Trust me, if you have a great premise, PEOPLE WILL WANT TO READ YOUR SCRIPT!!! I GUARANTEE IT! I WILL BE ONE OF THEM! If you’re not getting that excited response when you send your idea out, take a second look at the idea itself. It’s probably the reason.

He claims his script is better than every script sale out there. He repeatedly trashed Disciple in favor of his own masterpiece. But does writer Jai Brandon deliver on the goods?

Amateur Friday Submission Process: To submit your script for an Amateur Review, send it in PDF form, along with your title, genre, logline, and why I should read your script to Carsonreeves3@gmail.com. Keep in mind your script will be posted in the review (feel free to keep your identity and script title private by providing an alias and fake title). Also, it’s a good idea to resubmit every couple of weeks so your submission stays near the top.

Genre: Thriller/Crime/Serial Killer
Premise: (from writer) The lives of two opposing forces collide, after an argument escalates between a telemarketer and the recipient of his phone call – an active serial killer. Unfortunately for this serial killer, the man that he threatened is no ordinary telemarketer.
About: Jai Brandon has been pushing me to read his scripts for over a year. His constant hyping of The Telemarketer has made him impossible to ignore.
Writer: Jai Brandon
Details: 100 pages

I have experienced my share of confident screenwriters. I, like most of you, lived through Trajent Future (for the time of your life, grab some popcorn and read through the 500 comments of that post). The House That Death Built taught us that the quality of a man’s script is dependent not on one’s bravado, but rather one’s writing. Jai Brandon seems to have ignored this lesson. He places his screenplay up on the highest pedestal, betting that it’s not only better than recent entries such as The Disciple Program, but even some of the classics that have graced our movie theaters for years.

I’d tell Jai that’s a recipe for disaster, but I don’t think he’d listen. However, I’ll give Jai this. At a time where I’ve received more script submissions than any other time in Scriptshadow’s history, this man figured out a way to get me to read his script. True it was done through incessant badgering and enough e-mails to break Gmail’s servers (true story – I opened one of his e-mails and Gmail crashed), but you gotta get your name out there somehow and Jai did it.

Of course, this brings us to the actual script, and I’m not going to lie. I was expecting it to be somewhere between really bad and extremely terrible. My experience has taught me that those who yell the loudest usually have the least to say. The good news for Jai is that the script did not fall inside that category.

But it did fall inside a new category I like to refer to as, “Logic, flow, and tone be damned.” This has to be one of the strangest scripts I’ve read in a while in that Jai actually has a lot of talent, to the point where you occasionally wonder if you’re reading a pro. Unfortunately, that talent is eclipsed by a poor story sense. The script has so many weird combinations going on as to make it almost indecipherable. I’ll get into that in a second but let’s deal with the plot first.

20-something James Walker is a deliveryman. Well, that’s not entirely true. He’s a telemarketer. He’s a telemarketer/deliveryman, working delivery by day and telemarketing by night. Confused? So am I. I guess James doesn’t have to sleep. But neither did Edward Norton in Fight Club so I’m going to let it slide.

Our favorite telemarketer/deliveryman goes to deliver a package at a house only to see three burglars holding a woman hostage inside. Since James is not the kind of person to sit back idly, he sneaks in through the window and systematically kills the men. Add ass-kicker to James’ resume.

Later, a couple of detectives stop by to try and figure out what happened but come to the conclusion that no man could have taken these burglars out the way they did. It would have been impossible.

Off in another home we meet a man known as The Clown Face Killer. This Caucasian fellow likes to dress up in blackface and an afro wig and kill African American women. He also has Alopecia (he’s hairless) which means he never leaves a single trace of DNA evidence wherever he goes. He’s the perfect killer. The perfect CLOWN FACE KILLER.

In the meantime, those “savvy” detectives find a delivery notice on that burglarized lady’s front porch. So they head over to James’ telemarketing job to ask him some questions, namely why the notice is marked with the exact time this burglary took place. But James is as cool as a Kumquat (and as sarcastic as a snapping turtle) and convinces the doofus detectives that he wasn’t involved.

Across town, Mr. Clown-Face Killer continues attacking young unsuspecting African-American women, but during one of these attacks, James calls the house as part of his telemarketing gig. He and Clown Face have a brief conversation and the clown killer decides he’s going to make this personal. He then begins killing everyone in New York named James Walker – our hero’s name!

In the end, the Clown-Face Killer with alopecia gets so worked up that he actually targets James’ own mother. James will have to call on not only his telemarketing and delivery skills to take this man down, but his mercenary skills as well. Wait, what?! Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. James used to be a mercenary too! Will he succeed? I’m not sure. Nothing is certain in…..The Telemarketer.

Okay, so like I said, Jai shows a lot of skill in his writing. Open up this script and read the first scene and you’ll notice the writing is crisp, lean and professional.

The problem is, Jai’s lack of storytelling sense becomes increasingly problematic as the story goes on. What I mean by “storytelling sense” is the combination of structure, tone, understanding of genre, and how to build a story in a believable, compelling and logical way. The Telemarketer builds, but nothing is ever believable. And rarely is the tone of the story consistent. It kind of feels like a pastiche of several different genres slapped together in no particular order.

But let’s back up for a second and start with the title. The reason I resisted reading this in the first place was that the title and the logline didn’t jive. It sounded like a set up for a comedy as opposed to a thriller. A telemarketer taking on a man with alopecia who dresses up in blackface and an Afro wig? I don’t know. That just doesn’t sound like a subject matter you can treat seriously. So that was the first problem I had, and that was before I even opened the script (again – why testing your concept is SO important!).

The next problem I had was the dual jobs. I understand some people work two jobs to make ends meet, but in this case, the two jobs were obviously created for the purpose of instituting key plot points. Jai needed James to be a deliveryman/vigilante killer in order to get the detectives after him. And he needed his hero to be a telemarketer so he could call the woman that would begin Clown Faced’s obsession with him.

My question is, since the deliveryman job has absolutely nothing to do with the story, why not ditch it? Just make him a telemarketer. That’s the name of the movie anyway. By calling a movie “The Telemarketer” and starting off with your hero as a deliveryman, you’ve already confused your audience. In the very first scene! That’s a big problem with the writing here. It just seems to go wherever it wants in order to make the story work for the writer.

In addition to these problems, we just have these really weird scenes that appear out of nowhere. For instance, in addition to being a telemarketer and a deliveryman, it turns out that James also used to be a mercenary. So right in the middle of the script, for no discernible reason, we jump back to James during his mercenary days taking down Somali pirates. To the writer, this may all seem completely logical. “Of course he’s a mercenary. That’s my hero’s backstory!”

But to a reader, it’s utter confusion. We’re adding on to a character who already feels schizophrenic the title of mercenary??? How can an audience take that seriously? It would be like in Silence Of The Lambs if, 60 minutes in, Jodie Foster participated in a local disco competition, won, then went right back to hunting Buffalo Bill. You can’t just do whatever you want in a story. It has to make sense, it has to feel natural, it has to fit within the theme. If it doesn’t, it just feels random.

Another scene that came out of nowhere was James driving his delivery truck and getting stopped by some detectives, but it turns out those detectives were fake and actually robbers! Who rob him! The scene is just some random isolated incident that has NOTHING to do with the plot at all! These moments kept coming in The Telemarketer. Which was a big part of what made the read so frustrating.

The thing is, Jai really does have some talent. And despite his insane bravado, he actually seems like a nice guy. I don’t think he’s going to be telling everybody here (along with myself) that we’re all worthless and don’t know what we’re talking about and he does, a la Trajent Future. But he needs to back up and study storytelling a little more. Storytelling isn’t about throwing a bunch of shit on the page you think is cool. It’s about slowly building up a story where all the pieces fit together in a natural way. There are very few pieces in The Telemarketer that fit together and that’s why, despite the talent, the story doesn’t work.

What did you guys think? Is this better than The Disciple Program, as Jai claims? Or is my review completely off?

Script Link: The Telemarketer

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

What I learned: Be elegant in your plot construction. The more you strain, the more we’ll notice. In other words, never push an improbable or illogical plot point onto your story just because you *really need* something to happen. Here, Jai wanted these detectives to pull his hero, James, into the story. So he created this deliveryman job, which allowed his hero to murder these men, so that the detectives could question him. Keep in mind this job has NOTHING TO DO with the rest of the story. Never once is delivering something ever broached again. So it obviously feels false. You easily could’ve achieved this plot point without adding another job. Why can’t James be the woman’s neighbor? He’s about to go to work and sees something suspicious going on? Or maybe part of the telemarketing gig is delivering flyers about the service. You must be elegant in the way you weave things into your story or you’re going to pull your reader out of that story.

Allan Loeb embodies the dream scenario for any screenwriter.  Well, sorta.  After having inconsistent success in Hollywood for awhile, he fought through a crippling gambling addiction that nearly sent his life spiraling out of control. He eventually recovered, writing two scripts, The Only Living Boy In New York and Things We Lost In The Fire, that finished Top 4 on the inaugural Black List in 2005.  The buzz around those scripts began an insane hot streak for Loeb, who sold six projects in a single year. He’s since went on to write many movies, including 21, Wall Street 2, and Just Go With It.  In addition to feature writing, he has moved into TV producing, and is looking to have the same success in that medium.

SS: I originally heard it took you 12 years to finally sell something. Is that accurate? Can you tell us how you fought through that and were able to keep writing?

AL: I actually sold a pitch my fifth year writing, then a script two years later (guild minimum) and another (guild min again) a few years after that. So my career has actually been lived in three stages, five years of total rejection, about six or so of being on the bottom rung as a “baby writer” and finally eight years now of success. I didn’t actually fight through it, I — more or less — avoided the scary real world by doing the only thing I felt comfort in doing… making shit up.

SS: What did you do to pay the rent and what do you suggest other writers do job-wise to pay their rent yet still have time to work on their writing?

AL: I’m reluctant to say how I paid the rent for fear some of your readers may try it. It wasn’t smart and it should’ve ended in disaster. I gambled, day traded, ran through an inheritance and lived off credit cards. I sold my car in 2002 to pay rent and spent two years walking/taking the bus in LA. I sold an X-Box to a UCLA college student in 2005 for $90 and signed at CAA a week later. If I didn’t sign there or sell Only Living Boy shortly after… that $90 would’ve been my net worth.

SS: There seem to be levels for a writer. There’s the “get noticed with a good script” level. There’s the “get an agent level.” There’s the “sell your first script level.” Those are the levels I’m familiar with. What levels come after that? How many are there?

AL: There are so many levels after that. Most people are so consumed with the initial three that they never consider all the rungs in the middle. I’d say after “sell your first script” there’s the “do the rounds around town and get these people to like you” level. Then there’s the “get a job or sell something to them” level.

Then comes the most important level of all… “DELIVER!” This involves making your partners (producer, studio, director, movie star) feel heard and happy without compromising the quality of your work and your voice. It’s extremely delicate and challenging and if you can do it… you’ll work for a long time. It’s my opinion that most writers get spit out of the business at this level by the way.

From there the result in the market place matters. So the levels are “the box office gross level” and the “critical acclaim level” I have failed up at this level many times (but fortunately succeeded a bit too) and it’s extremely painful.

SS: My favorite script of yours is “The Only Living Boy In New York.” What inspired that script for you and when am I finally going to get to see it?

AL: I wanted to write my version of my favorite movie “The Graduate” with kind of a “Manhattan” love-letter to New York flourish to it. I went to New York in 2004, leased a loft for the summer with no air conditioning, cable or internet. The shower was a big sink I had to climb into. I just read everything I could about the city, met some really cool New Yorkers, partied till morning on the Lower East Side and somehow came back to LA with that script.

I’m hoping you’ll see it soon… it has new life to it that may finally get it made. Stay tuned.

SS: “Things We Lost In The Fire” was an independent movie script. But I remember it was very celebrated at the time. Without getting into specifics, can you sell those types of scripts for a lot of money or is every independent script more likely to result in a small sale?

AL: You can sell dramas like Things We Lost but you really need big talent attached. What drove that sale for me was Sam Mendes and his sway at Dreamworks. Sam loved the script and at first wanted to direct it. (He ended up producing it with me) 

SS: Can you take us through the specific process that led to Things We Lost In The Fire being found, bought, and ultimately made? It’s always fun to know the details of how these things come about.

AL: I gave it to my agents on Friday. Sam had read it and was attached by Monday. Dreamworks paid me a lot of money for it with-in a week. I’ll give credit where credit is due… CAA.

SS: When you first break out as a screenwriter, you’re the new guy and everybody wants to meet you and know what else you have and if there’s some way you can work together. What can you tell us, from your experience after your break out, as far as what opportunities came up and how future screenwriters should handle that situation should they break in? Should they be taking advantage of every opportunity and trying to sell every pitch they can because they’re hot, or should they just focus on meeting people and developing relationships?

AL: Yes, yes and yes. This is such an important part of the business. It’s as important as the words on the page. Connect with these people you’re meeting on a human level. See what movies they love and where your tastes align. Get their email addresses and follow up and update them to what you’re doing… stay on their radar.

Most of them are smart, most of them are perfectly nice, most of them want to make good movies… they are not the enemy. If they believe in you, if they genuinely like you, if they think you’re going to make a good partner… they will stop at nothing to pay you real money to make shit up on a computer (while drinking coffee in between naps.)

SS: What do you think is the toughest thing about screenwriting?

AL: Handing the shit in.

SS: I’d love to get two pieces of advice from you. First, what’s the most important lesson you learned about the craft of screenwriting? And second, what’s the most important lesson you learned about the business side of screenwriting?

AL: The most important thing about the craft… economy/befriend the reader.

Say it with economy… don’t over describe. They get it. They’re reading quickly. They want to know what happens next. They don’t give a shit about most of the things you think they do… they just want to know what happens next.

The most important thing about the business… fun, enjoyable collaboration/be a pro.

Be open, be collaborative, they’re your partners, this is not poetry or Ibsen… it’s a business and you’re building a product with a team of people. Have fun, don’t freak out and be open to what your partners need or they will find someone else. Now you have to do that without totally killing your voice and particular story and that’s the dance… that’s where the game gets really fragile and difficult. You have to defend what makes this story great and make them happy. You have to play offense and defense… you can’t win by just playing one.

And it’s critical to be a pro. Hit every deadline, be calm, be available, be Kevin Durant at the foul line, don’t be an emotional basket case. You’re their doctor. Be their doctor… don’t be their frantic child.

SS: Now I don’t know this from any personal experience but I’ve heard that once you have a couple of hit movies, people just throw gobs of money at you to write their screenplays. I imagine that presents some dilemmas for you. Like getting offered, say, a million dollars to write something big and marketable yet artistically unfulfilling, and $250,000 to write something smaller and less marketable but very artistically fulfilling. Have you been in that situation before and how do you handle it?

AL: This is an issue for many writers but not for me so much. I’m a lover of movies of all genres and I write in all genres. I’m not precious and I see as much merit in a big rom-com as I do in a Terrence Malick film. There’s something for everybody and people simply get too judgmental when it comes to what stories they believe people should be told. It becomes a personal thing. I’m lucky that I get as excited about a big commercial idea as I do a small character piece… they’re just two different types of food to me. One is not inherently better than the other. I’m just as proud of “Just Go With it” as I am about “Things We Lost” — who’s to say which has more merit? To me… that’s arrogance.

So I can cash a big check and be fulfilled at the same time… I guess that’s called being a hack :)

SS: Having spent that early part of your career struggling for so long, what advice can you give writers from that experience so that they don’t make the same mistakes that you did, and can break out sooner?

AL: Don’t chase the market. Work on your specific voice and not what you think they want. Keep your day job.

Don’t get to the point where you’re selling your X-Box to a UCLA kid because getting lucky from under that stupidity only happens once and I already cashed that chip.

SS: Now I know you do a lot of assignment work. Are you able to still find time to write your own material? Are you still putting your own specs out there? What are you working on now?

AL: It’s a good question. I don’t spec. I’m transitioning a bit into writing a script a year for me and seeing where the chips fall but it’s been hard. I truly love what I do and most of that is incoming work.

I’m currently rewriting an action movie for Universal, finishing up a baseball comedy for Disney and working on a pilot for 20th/NBC.

Day 2 of The Gauntlet is here! Yesterday, we looked at a contest winning script. Today, we look at the contender!

This is the second day of “The Gauntlet.” The Gauntlet is when an amateur script takes on a pro script to the death. Yesterday’s script was the Amazon Studios Contest winner. Robert’s script, Flat Pennies, did not advance in the same competition. But that didn’t affect Robert’s belief that his script was better. And he was willing to put it up here for all of you to see to prove it. Once again, you can download the winning script here and today’s script, Flat Pennies, here. For future Gauntlet challenges, e-mail me at Carsonreeves3@gmail.com. You must take on a script that has not yet been reviewed on the site. Be sure to include the genre, title, logline and a pdf of your script. Keep in mind your script WILL be made available in the review.

Genre: I would say it’s a drama but Robert characterizes it as a “Psycho-noir.”
Premise: A troubled teen becomes the errand boy for a former train engineer living in a world of heroic fantasies and untold guilt until a revelation ends it all.
About: Robert’s script didn’t advance at Amazon. But that doesn’t mean it can’t advance in the minds of Scriptshadow Nation! Seeing the way a lot of you reacted to Origin Of A Species, it might actually be a close competition.
Writer: Robert Ward
Details: 116 pages

There are two words every screenwriter dreads: “Nothing happens.” Of course “happens” is a relative term. As long as you’re writing about a character doing something, something is “happening.” Even if he’s just reaching for a beer. So maybe the more appropriate phrase should be “Nothing interesting happens.” And in my opinion, nothing interesting happens in Flat Pennies for way too long.

Now here’s the funny thing. You could make the same argument for yesterday’s script, Origin Of A Species. We meet some people. Some dogs escape. There ain’t a whole lot going on there. So how come I liked yesterday’s script so much better than I liked this one? Read on and find out.

Flat Pennies introduces us to Alex Rutledge, a 17 year old kid, kinda hip-hoppy, drunk on whisky, yelling at some train tracks about how his life sucks. From what we can gather, Alex has been adopted and he’s pissed off that his real parents left him. He wants some answers dammit!

Across town we meet Ian Crocker, a recluse of a man who spends his days working on an elaborate model train set inside of his apartment. Ian used to be a train engineer but was injured during a massive crash, relegating him to a wheelchair. Now he collects disability and uses the money to buy new pieces for his set. But all is not well in Ian’s hermetically sealed train station. Looks like they’re cutting down his disability. Which means his train set is at a standstill.

Despite household budget cuts, Ian needs a new errand boy and guess who gets the job? That’s right, our booze-loving teenager, Alex. After a rocky start, the two begin an awkward but fulfilling friendship.

The thing is, they don’t really do much. They mainly sit around and talk about their lives. Alex, at every opportunity (and I mean EVERY opportunity), brings up how his birth parents left him. And Ian keeps going back to that damn train crash. It so bothers him that he’s plagued with strange daydreams, many of which revolve around people dying. As we choo-choo towards their final destination, it becomes evident that their meeting was not by accident, and that the two have more in common than they ever could’ve predicted (no, Ian is not his father).

I already contacted Robert and told him some of my problems with Flat Pennies and I’m going to repeat those here. The script’s biggest problem is how on-the-nose everything is. And its second biggest problem is how melodramatic everything is. Both of these things are HUGE amateur tells. So you want to avoid them at all costs.

Let’s listen to some of Alex’s dialogue in the opening scene, where he’s drunk near some train tracks, yelling to himself. “Why did you pound me into a pile of dirt!” “I’m not even worth a mosquito’s ass.” “There was no reason for what you did. No reason!” “Was I a piece of litter to throw away?” “How could you…leave me, the boy who made the papers?! I was such a good boy. Should’ve never abandoned me.”

First we have melodrama. A drunk guy crying about his life. Ehh, not good. Then we have loads of on-the-nose dialogue. Alex says no less than five times, directly to the reader, that he’s been left. This is the equivalent of lacing your screenplay with anthrax. You don’t want ANY of this stuff in your script. Ever.

And yet it continues. On page 21, Alex picks up a puppet and has a conversation with it where he asks, “Why did my parents desert me?” and the puppet replies. “Alex, you weren’t worth keeping.” Whoa.

On top of that, there’s no drama to any of the scenes (recognize the dramatize!). It’s just Alex coming over to Ian’s and the two talking about their lives, their pasts, and their feelings about one another. They don’t do anything. There’s no goal driving them forward. It’s just a continuous string of “scenes-of-death” with no conflict or purpose.

This is why I always tell you to give your characters a goal, no matter how mundane. Because if they don’t have anything to do, you won’t know what to do with them. Which leaves you writing scenes with people talking to each other even though nobody has anything to say. There are like 10 screenwriters in the world who can make a dialogue scene work with no goals or drama. And even they’d prefer to avoid them. So you gotta stay away from this situation.

Why not make Ian’s problems more urgent? His late rent is hinted at here but never takes center stage (so we don’t take it seriously). Maybe he’s got a week before he has to be out. Now he has a goal – find money or find a new place to stay.

Or, if that’s too obvious, give him something he has to focus on. Maybe his landlord just found out about his elaborate train set and considers it a fire hazard. He wants it out of the apartment within a week or Ian’s out. Now Ian has something to focus on – figure out what to do with his train set. Taking down the set also symbolizes moving past the accident.

Another issue is Ian’s daydreams. We’re not sure if they’re real, if they’re flashbacks, or if they’re made up. Because they’re so different from everything else in the script (Out no nowhere, Ian will be climbing a mountain), they never feel organic, and therefore leave us confused. Now they do pay off, but to just randomly cut to Ian climbing a mountain without cluing the reader in as to what’s going on is a bit jarring.

And this is the thing with screenplays. These kinds of things are forgivable when the script is popping. But when the pace is slowed by a lack of narrative drive, urgency, drama, or conflict, it’s much easier for the reader to get tripped up by these moments.

So this script has a lot to fix. Moving forward, I’d tell Robert to learn how to dramatize scenes (people talking about their lives is not a scene!). I’d tell him to ditch all the melodrama. I’d tell him to get rid of all the on-the-nose dialogue. And I would add some bigger character goals for both Ian and Alex. By making those changes, this script would improve drastically.

And here’s why I care. Despite how boring this script is, it actually has a great ending. Like “holy shit” level ending. I was shocked. But the problem is, nobody’s going to get to that ending because everything that precedes it is too boring. If Robert can somehow nail the first 100 pages of this script – no small feat, I know – he has a story worth telling.

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

GAUNTLET WINNER: ORIGIN OF A SPECIES (Who was your Gauntlet winner?)

What I learned: If you have an interesting question you’re bringing up in your story, don’t answer it right away! Keep your reader curious by drawing it out for 5, 10, 15 scenes. Here, we have a nice reveal when we see that Ian’s in a wheelchair. Alex immediately asks him what happened, and Ian launches into the story of the train crash. Noooo! Ian needs to not answer him! He needs to tell him much later in the story! Keep the reader curious!