Script link now up!!! :) :) :)

For the month of May, Scriptshadow will be foregoing its traditional reviewing to instead review scripts from you, the readers of the site. To find out more about how the month lines up, go back and read the original post here. The first week, we allowed any writers to send in their script for review. Last week, we raised the bar and reviewed repped writers only. This week, we’re doing something different. I read a lot of amateur scripts. Some through my notes service, some through contests, and some through referrals. I wanted to spend a week (or maybe two) highlighting some of the best scripts I’ve come across. All these scripts are available. So if you’re a buyer and it sounds like something you may be interested in, then get a hold of these writers through the contact information on their script before someone else does. Monday, Roger reviewed a cool script from Michael Stark titled, “Treading On Angles.” Tuesday, I reviewed our first female writer of Amateur Month, Lindsey, and her script, “Blue.” Wednesday I reviewed the sci-fi thriller/procedural, “Nine Gold Souls.” Yesterday, I reviewed another sci-fi piece, “The Translation.” And today I review a teenage thriller.

Genre: Thriller
Premise: Seven teenagers head into the Louisiana forest to celebrate a birthday. But when one of them is accidentally killed, the rest must figure out what to do with the body before the night is up.
About: Jared is repped by Sarah Self at The Gersh Agency and managed by Jim Thompson at Original Content.
Writer: Jared Romero
Details: 110 pages

Oh man, I still remember when I first read this script. It was in the same contest I read The Translation in and I had just read 40 horrible screenplays in a row. That’s the thing writers don’t get about readers, is they can read dozens and sometimes HUNDREDS of scripts until they find one that’s actually good. That’s why they’re so skeptical of your script. Cause the previous 99 were terrible! I was expecting another ho-hum teen-angst-thriller flick here, but what I got instead was an expertly crafted thrill ride.

So you want to know the number 1 way to get an agent? I’m going to tell you right now and I’ll use “Cylinder” as an example. After reading Cylinder last year I felt like my body had been injected with the same adrenaline as Jason Statham in Crank. It was a pure rush and I kept thinking, “This is really fucking good.”

So I e-mailed a writer I knew and I said, “I think this script is really fucking good (RFG).” And he was busy but he ended up reading it anyway and to my surprise he responded, “Yeah, this script is RFG. Let me give it to my agent.” His agent was at Gersh so he brought it to her and after reading it she agreed that it was “RFG,” so she signed him. And that’s it. That’s how you land an agent. You write a RFG script and you keep pushing it (to contests, friends, whatever) until sooner or later someone who matters gets their hands on it and gives you a break.

Ahh, but let’s remember the key to this whole equation working – The script has to be REALLY FUCKING GOOD. Do not begin this process if you have a script that’s SPBFTMPU (sorta pleasant but for the most part unentertaining). But wait, you say Carson, how do I know if my script is RFG???

I shall reveal to you now how to tell if your script is RFG. First, give it to a couple of friends. But before calling them to get their reactions, make sure to plug in your “friends always react more enthusiastically than they really feel when they read their screenwriter friend’s script” variable. In other words, if they say, “I thought it was pretty good,” it means they outright hated it.

However, if these friends are jumping out of their skin and can’t stop saying things like, “No, Diablo. This script is really really good. Like I was crying at the end,” and quoting lines back to you and coming up with inspired ideas to make it even better, and inquiring repeatedly in the coming weeks to find out who you’ve sent it to, well then your script is RFG and you should send it out.

But if they’re saying, “Yeah, it was good,” in the same voice people use when they tell the parents of an ugly baby how cute he is (you know what I’m talking about – where they won’t make eye contact when they say it?), then don’t waste people’s time. Continue working on the craft and start something new. Cause if there’s one thing I’ve learned about contacts/friends/family, it’s that they form an opinion about you the first time they see your work and they NEVER change that opinion.

Hey wait a minute. Aren’t I supposed to be reviewing a script? Right. “Cylinder.”

Okay, so Cylinder has an admittedly simple premise. But where it excels is in its EXECUTION.

It’s Charlie Robichaux’s birthday. He’s 17 years old. The world could not be more firmly fitted in the palm of Charlie’s hand. He’s a nice kid, a smart kid, an ideal best friend, would give you his last dollar if you needed it. The only negative in Charlie’s life is his workaholic father, a District Attorney who’s cracking down on today’s reckless youth. If your kid drunk drives and kills an innocent civilian, Charlie’s dad is the one who will make sure he goes to jail for the rest of his life.

Immediately after meeting Charlie, we’re introduced to his friends. There’s cute Sam, a blonde girl-next-door type who’s got a crush on Charlie. There’s the dorky Theo. There’s the drop dead gorgeous Laurie (Meghan Fox type – which is good cause I hear she needs a job). There’s preppy Matt. And there’s Jackson, a bit of a townie. While this group wouldn’t normally all hang out together, it’s Charlie’s birthday so an exception is made.

As a present, they drive him out into a clearing in the Louisiana forest to an old deserted mansion so they can get drunk and fuck around. But things get interesting when Jackson pulls out a revolver. Some of the guys freak out. Others laugh. It’s just a gun, they say. But that gun becomes their central source of entertainment. They set up a makeshift shooting range with beer bottles and the fun begins.

In the meantime Charlie and Sam escape, and she finally reveals to Charlie her hidden crush. The two start making out. It’s quickly turning into the best birthday party Charlie has ever had and then…and then something goes horribly wrong. Sam pulls away to find Charlie non-responsive. That’s when she notices the large hole in his head with blood gushing out. Charlie’s been killed by a stray bullet.

Now there aren’t many times I’m genuinely SHOCKED while reading a screenplay. But this shocked me. And the funny thing is, we were just talking about this the other day (or at least I was talking about it. I don’t know if you guys were). They just killed off the main fucking character!!! I was SO shocked, in fact, I actually went back and re-read the scene. Did they just really do that? Did they kill off the protagonist?? This had to be how audiences felt when they first saw Psycho (I never experienced that feeling as the first time I saw Psycho, I’d already been told what would happen).

This was such a brilliant move on so many levels. We were excited for Charlie’s future. We identified with him. And the second he dies…we feel completely lost. Now what? Now who? What the HELL is going on? Who’s our lead? Who’s going to carry us through the rest of the story??

And this isn’t even the only great moment in Cylinder. There’s two of them. Later on there is, if it’s ever filmed, what will be known as the greatest Russian Roulette scene ever etched in celluloid (or digitoid). It’s ten dozen kinds of awesome.

After Charlie’s death, the group begins a mad dash to figure out how to deal with the situation. Some want to go to the cops. But that will most surely ruin their lives. The colleges they got into, their standing in the community. All of that will go up in smoke. So they begin to concoct a plan B. Problem is, the longer the decision-making goes, the less they begin to trust each other, and the more drastic the actions they take.

Cylinder takes what would normally be a predictable setup, throws a twist into it, then takes what would normally be a sloppy execution, and crafts a set of sequences that keep us engaged the entire time. I can’t stress how often these kinds of scripts devolve into a repetitive sloppy narrative. But Romero has carefully plotted out each sequence so that the chaos has form, so that there’s a method to the madness. The result is a confident story that always knows where it’s going.

I also loved how honest the conflict read. Once Charlie’s dead, you really get the sense that these characters are weighing their futures against the cover-up. They know Charlie’s father is the D.A. They know he’ll make sure none of them have anything resembling a life for as long as they live. So watching that inner conflict play out with the characters who loved Charlie the most, the ones who were closest to him, the ones who know what the *right* thing to do is, that’s where the script really shines.

I don’t really have many criticisms except that the concept is a little bland. When you hear it, you don’t think, “Oh cool, I’ve never heard of a movie like that before.” So the lack of a wow factor has kept this manimal from being unleashed. Cylinder used to have a sloppy first act. But Jared has since streamlined it and it reads effortlessly now. This is just a really prime example of great execution. I hope someone finds this and does something with it.

Script link: Cylinder

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

What I learned: I’m going to stay on my whole “RFG” kick and talk about gauging the quality of your own script. And I want to discuss it in regards to getting notes back. Unless you’re receiving notes from a professional, it’s your job to “read” into the intent of the note, because if you’re giving your script to a friend or acquaintance, they’re not going to be honest with you. Think about the consequences if your friend tells you they hate it. You’ll be pissed at them and potentially permanently damage the relationship. So instead they’re going to be critical in the nicest possible way. I’ll never forget this note I received on a scene in a script I wrote a long time ago from a friend who worked in the industry. The script was a drama (important) and the scene was a traditional guy meets girl scene. The characters are outside a restaurant when they run into each other. He introduces himself. They talk. He gets her number. After saying goodbye, he turns around and promptly runs STRAIGHT INTO A TREE and falls on his ass! Now I thought this was the funniest thing that could possibly ever happen in a movie at the time (I know – I was deeply disturbed back then). But for whatever reason, my friend just couldn’t understand it. She kept asking, very politely, why, in a drama, people were crashing into trees and falling on their ass. I chalked it up to her just not “getting me,” and kept the scene. Cut to me reading the script three years later and realizing it was THE WORST SCENE IN THE HISTORY OF EXISTENCE! I replayed our conversations in my head and I realized that she wasn’t “politely” asking me why I had the scene in there. She was trying to say, albeit in the nicest possible way, that the scene SUCKED BEYOND ALL RECOGNITION because it made absolutely no sense and violated the tone I’d spent the previous 40 pages setting up and was essentially a Three Stooges prat fall in the middle of Terms Of Endearment. The point I’m making is, because I was focusing on *what* she said – that she disagreed with the choice – I missed out on what she was *trying* to say: “You need to get rid of this scene or readers are going to think you’re a two-bit hack.” So always take into consideration that friends and family are going to be nice to you when giving notes. It’s YOUR job to read into what they *really* mean.

In fact, I’m going to pose a challenge to the Scriptshadow readers. I want you to call up the last person who read one of your scripts and I want you to say to them, “Joe, remember that script I sent you? Remember everything you said? I want you to pretend like you’re talking to someone you don’t know right now. I want you to be brutally honest. What did you think?” And I want you to write the responses down here in the comments section, good or bad. Then take it one step further. Ask them WHY they felt that way. Try to get to essence of their issue with your script so you can improve.

For the month of May, Scriptshadow will be foregoing its traditional reviewing to instead review scripts from you, the readers of the site. To find out more about how the month lines up, go back and read the original post here. The first week, we allowed any writers to send in their script for review. Last week, we raised the bar and reviewed repped writers only. This week, we’re doing something different. I read a lot of amateur scripts. Some through my notes service, some through contests, and some through referrals. I wanted to spend a week (or maybe two) highlighting some of the best scripts I’ve come across. All these scripts are available. So if you’re a buyer and it sounds like something you may be interested in, then get a hold of these writers through the contact information on their script before someone else does. Monday, Roger reviewed a cool script from Michael Stark titled, “Treading On Angles.” Tuesday, I reviewed our first female writer of Amateur Month, Lindsey, and her script, “Blue.” Yesterday I reviewed the sci-fi’ish thriller/procedural, “Nine Gold Souls.” And today I’m reviewing…the next Blade Runner?

Genre: Sci-fi
Premise: In the year 2054, a widowed cop’s job is to hunt down fugitive “translations,” organically created replacements of lost loved ones. After a mysterious murder, he finds himself on the run with a translation of his wife.
About: Aaron is managed by Mad Hatter Entertainment, but does not have agency representation yet. I read this script over a year ago as part of a small contest I held over on the Done Deal message boards. Aaron lives far away from the Los Angeles borders, in St. Louis, Missouri.
Writer: Aaron Coffman
Details: 113 pages

The Translation is another script I read over a year ago and I’ll be honest, when I started reading it, I wasn’t sure if it was going to be any good. As is the trouble with most sci-fi scripts, the writer is tasked with educating the audience about the rules (the “science”) of their world in a very short period of time. And there’s so much to learn here, I initially had trouble keeping up. But once the main story kicked in, I found myself drawn into this modern day Blade Runner tale and loving every minute of it.

It’s 2054. William Monroe is a cop, but a cop with a very specific job – to take down “twigs.” Twigs is the street name for “translations,” copies of people grown to replace lost loved ones – kinda like being able to clone your dog.

Unfortunately, during the time it takes to grow a translation (2 years), many families go through the grieving process and, to put it simply, change their mind. The problem is, society doesn’t know what to do with these discarded clones. And since they can’t be killed, they’re dumped into a sectioned-off ghetto, left to live with only a half the rights real citizens have.

Monroe has a hate-hate relationship with these human copies. He thinks they’re worthless, a mistake society’s made and is too afraid to clean up. So when they escape the ghetto, he’s the one who finds them and does whatever it takes to eliminate the problem.

Monroe takes his job seriously because it’s the only thing he has. His wife, Alyssa, was killed two years ago in a terrorist attack.

Against his wishes, Alyssa’s high-profile parents went ahead and had Alyssa translated, a process only days now from finishing. But when they’re abruptly and mysteriously murdered, the only person left to pick up Alyssa, or this copy of Alyssa, is Monroe. And he’s not happy about it.

It’s supposed to be simple. Monroe picks her up, takes her to the Translation Ghetto, and drops her off. But as soon as he gets her, the fully grown up but childlike curiosity of Alyssa begins spouting off other plans. She keeps remembering and wants to go to a place called “Beacon Point,” and while Monroe won’t show his cards, it’s clear the name means something to him.

But that ends up being the least of his worries. Within hours, there’s a shadowy group following them and trying to kill Alyssa. Could this have something to do with her parents being murdered? Monroe is forced into the role of protector, but much worse, into sharing time and space with this shell of a body that looks and acts so much like his wife. He knows it’s not her. He knows his duty is to bring translations in, not protect them. But he can’t help but fight for this woman, even if it’s not the woman he once loved.

Like I said above, The Translation is similar in a lot of respects to Blade Runner, most notably in tone. It’s a dark dreary future where most of the people are just trying to make it through the day.

But I think what separates The Translation from other movies is the intriguing love story at its core. Here’s a man who worked so hard to get over the surprise death of his wife, and now he’s forced to look her in the eye every second of this harrowing journey. We sense that a part of him wants to give in, wants to believe that she is, indeed, his wife. But he knows that logically that’s impossible. And it’s this central conflict that drives the story.

I also like the pace of the script. Every time you think Monroe and Alyssa are okay, they’re immediately back on the run again. It’s almost like The Bourne movies stumbled into a Blade Runner shoot – the best of both worlds.

But that world isn’t perfect. I loved Monroe but I thought Alyssa strayed from what made her so endearing at times. She’s best when she’s tender, curious, innocent, like a child. But after she starts learning the truth, she becomes angry, almost violent, and it was a little too out-of-character in my opinion.

The opening act is also an issue. And it’s not that I don’t recognize the challenge in writing it. Normally, your job in the first act is to set up 2 things: your plot and your characters. But when you write a sci-fi or fantasy film, you have to set up both those things *in addition to* your sci-fi world. In other words, you have to smoosh 33% more information into the opening 25 pages. As a result, your first act will feel jumbled or dense – not unlike you’re reading the Encyclopedia Britannica. That’s what it felt like here for me.

In addition, I thought some of the chase scenes could’ve been more imaginative. There’s a great car chase early on where Monroe is trying to elude the bad guys after Alyssa’s lost her breathing mask (worn until translations can breathe in the real world). The combination of being shot at from the outside and Alyssa dying on the inside made for an intense sequence. But after that, the chases become a little too “been there, done that.” And this is something I tell writers a lot. There’s a chase scene in almost every single movie ever made. So you can’t take short cuts when write your own. You have to try and be original.

In “Déjà vu,” (one of the biggest spec sales ever), they had a car chase where a character in the present is chasing a character in the past. The execution was shoddy on-screen but the point is, they were thinking outside the box. They were trying to do something different (I also have a feeling that that scene was a big part of why that script sold for so much – talk about delivering on the promise of the premise!)

Despite these problems, I really dug The Translation. I always go back and forth on which act is most important, but after reading this script, I’m reminded that the second act is probably the most important act in the script. It’s where you deal with your central conflict (in this case, the relationship between Monroe and Alyssa) and if that central conflict isn’t compelling, the reader gets bored and won’t give a shit what happens in the end. I thought the second act here was really strong and what separated The Translation from the rest of the competition.

Script link: The Translation (proper draft now up)

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

What I learned: Sci-fi pieces are tough, especially when they take place in a distant future or a far off land. Some writers try and weave the key details of their world into the opening act organically, like Aaron does here in The Translation. But this is really hard to do. A much cleaner method is to use a TEXT CRAWL or an OPENING VOICE OVER. What these do is they get the pertinent information about your world out of the way so you don’t have to spend precious story time dealing with it. The most obvious example is Star Wars, which explains its world to you in the opening crawl. Jake Sulley gets us up to speed in Avatar right away via voice over. Still another method, and probably the most viewer-friendly, is to open with a scene that acts as a setup to the world. In “The Fifth Element” for example, we have this entertaining opening sequence in the Egyptian pyramids that sets up the whole backstory for the “fifth element,” so we don’t need to wonder what the hell everyone is talking about later on. Whatever the case, consider using the first minute or three of your story to lay out your sci-fi world via text or voice over so you can use your opening act to do what it’s supposed to do – tell the story and entertain us!

For the month of May, Scriptshadow will be foregoing its traditional reviewing to instead review scripts from you, the readers of the site. To find out more about how the month lines up, go back and read the original post here. Last week, we allowed any writers to send in their script for review. This week, we’re raising the bar and reviewing repped writers only. The caveat is that they cannot have a sale to their name. The idea here is to give aspiring writers an idea of the quality of writing it takes to have a professional manager or agent take an interest in your work. Monday, Roger reviewed the Western, “Quicker Than The Eye.” Tuesday, I reviewed the 80s’esque comedy “Duty.” Wednesday, I reviewed the JFK thriller “The Shadow Before.” Thursday I reviewed another thriller called “Skin.” And today, I take on a Rom-Com. Rom-Com nuts unite!

Genre: Comedy/Romantic Comedy
Premise: A recently broken-hearted man returns to his hometown to have a guys weekend with his (also recently broken-hearted) best friend, only to find out that his ex is in town doing the exact same thing, forcing them to avoid each other at all costs.
About: Our fifth and final script of Repped Week. David DeGrow Shotwell & Steven Michael Walters are repped by APA.
Writers: David DeGrow Shotwell & Steven Michael Walters
Details: 106 pages

So I decided to save my favorite script of the week for last. And this one was a bit of a surprise, because it started off like any other “Guys get together and talk about chicks” script. The setup was too obvious and the characters bordering on thin. The comedic sidekick, in particular, was hogging the spotlight, and he felt more like his own movie than he did part of a movie. I’m not a fan of this because I don’t like sacrificing story for laughs. I always think story should come first, even in a comedy.

So I’m going to go on a tangent here and you have to join me because it’s Friday and shit gets crazy on Fridays. I call characters like the one I mentioned above “Last Comic Standing” characters. And let me explain why. I went to a party one night long ago and this guy approached me and he said, “Hey man, how’s it going?” And I said, “Fine.” And he replied, “Yo, have you seen the kitchen in this place? I’ve seen closets with nicer sinks.” I thought that was kind of a weird way to start a conversation, but it’s not like I knew anyone else here, so I couldn’t run. He followed that up with, “And what’s up with the hills in this town? I feel like I’m a rat in a maze. I’d rather get stuck in the Sahara Desert than the Hollywood Hills, you know what I mean?” No, I didn’t know what he meant. I also noticed the guy was wearing a big plastic smile while he spoke. This was starting to get creepy.

“And this beer. Helloooooo. I’ve tasted cow urine better than this!” This weirdo proceeded to give me two minutes of the most random observations you could think of before it finally hit me. He was a stand-up comedian! He was trying out his “act” on me! Going out and testing his material on “the real world.” He never let me talk or respond or engage or anything. He just made his jokes and waited for me to either laugh or not laugh.

I bring this up because this is the “Last Comic Standing” approach I see in so many bad comedy specs. The story is almost non-existent. It’s just an excuse to put a character “up on stage” and let him riff through a bunch of scenes. There’s no connection to the story, to the other characters, to the plot or to the theme. As a result, the audience feels a bit like I did talking to that nutcase at the party. Like they’ve been given tickets to a Saturday afternoon show at the Laugh Factory.

A screenplay is about creating a universe and having your characters live and breathe within that universe. If it ever feels like that universe is put on hold so your hero can do his Rodney Dangerfield impression, the illusion of the story (the “suspension of disbelief”) is gone. And since most production companies are looking for stories and not stand-up acts, it’s best to adhere to this principle.

When I started “The Rebound,” I was immediately worried about this. The plot follows Stan, a recent LA implant who’s been dumped by the love of his life. Stan’s best friend Jeff, who’s never grown up because he’s a Toys-R-Us kid, has just booked Stan on the next flight back to their hometown so they can compete in a Guitar Hero contest that weekend (for Jeff’s band “Whore Parade Route”), and Stan can experience a little hometown healing.

We’re thrown into Jeff and his buddies talking about banging bitches and getting ready for their big Guitar Hero performances. Jeff has also just broken up with his girlfriend, Kara, and wants to win the competition so he can bang as many “groupies” as possible. It’s all Jeff all the time and since the story (a Guitar Hero tournament?) is thinner than plywood, it just felt like an excuse to have a bunch of funny conversations.

However, as soon as Stan gets into town and he learns that Cathy (his ex) is also in for the weekend, the script starts to formulate. Stan’s upset, because this was supposed to be a weekend of healing. And Cathy isn’t thrilled because now she’s going to be tempted to talk to him. The goal then becomes to avoid each other so they don’t fall back into a situation they know will never work.

So Stan runs into an old girlfriend from high school and Cathy meets a sophisticated older guy with all the qualities Stan doesn’t have. These two become foils for what we ultimately want to happen, which is for Stan and Cathy to meet up and get back together. But the longer the story goes, the less likely it is that that will happen. We’re essentially watching a movie where the two main characters never meet. It’s sort of a cross between Swingers and Sleepless In Seattle.

There are a few things that really make this story work. First, it has a natural ticking time bomb – the weekend. I like the way it’s slyly placed there but never addressed. We just know that when the weekend is over, these two go back to their own worlds and that’s it.

Also, we really like Stan and Cathy. They’re both honest, funny, endearing people. For that reason, as the script goes on, we become more and more attached to their situation and want them to get together. In fact, I kept checking the pages numerous times going, “Page 60?? And they still haven’t seen each other??? What if they don’t see each other at all??”

But where “The Rebound” separates itself from the amateur ranks is in how it addresses its secondary characters, namely Kara and Jeff. They start off being the goofy comedic sidekicks, but eventually learn something and change into better people. In amateur comedy scripts, you never see this. All of the supporting characters are usually flat and boring because they’re exactly the same at the end of the movie as they were at the beginning. In other words, they’re just there to do their stand up routine and get out. It was really refreshing to discover that Jeff was more than a few silly lines.

My only real complaint here is that the first 30 or so pages indicate a more juvenile story than it ends up becoming. Once we got into the actual relationships (Stan meets his girl and Cathy meets her guy), the script hits its stride. This might need a few rewrites to bring out every scene’s full potential, but I could definitely see this as a movie.

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

What I learned: Whenever you have a straight man in a comedy, you usually contrast him with a goofy/extreme sidekick character. Sean William Scott’s character in Role Models. Spike in Notting Hill. Any of the 3 guys opposite Jason Biggs in American Pie. From my experience (and this isn’t always the case, but mostly), secondary characters who are the same at the end of the movie as they were at the beginning, are boring. Just because someone is a comedic sidekick doesn’t mean he can’t or shouldn’t be explored on a deeper level. In the end of Notting Hill, Spike learns to take love more seriously. In Role Models, Scott learns to actually give a shit. And in American Pie, all of the supporting players overcome their individual flaws by the end of the film. Take a look at your comedy script. Do your supporting characters change? Do they learn anything from this journey? If not, consider changing it so they do. It will make your script a lot better, and it will show readers you know what you’re doing.

For the month of May, Scriptshadow will be foregoing its traditional reviewing to instead review scripts from you, the readers of the site. To find out more about how the month lines up, go back and read the original post here. Last week, we allowed any writers to send in their script for review. This week, we’re raising the bar and reviewing repped writers only. The caveat is that they cannot have a sale to their name. The idea here is to give aspiring writers an idea of the quality of writing it takes to have a professional manager or agent take an interest in your work. Monday, Roger reviewed the Western, “Quicker Than The Eye.” Yesterday, I reviewed the 80s’esque comedy “Duty,” and today, I’m reviewing the JFK thriller “The Shadow Before.”

Genre: Thiller/Drama/Love Story
Premise: John F. Kennedy made a speech in Cork City, Ireland five months before he was assassinated. This is the story of the two weeks leading up to that speech.
About: This is the third script of Repped Week. Martin McSweeney is represented by Conrad Williams at Blake Friedman UK. This script is an adaptation of his own book, “Two Weeks In June,” which you can find here.
Writer: Martin McSweeney
Details: 113 pages

I’m by no means a Kennedy conspiracy freak. I watched Oliver Stone’s “JFK” when I was a kid but I was more consumed with the strange directing style of this off-his-rocker director than I was the actual movie. But it is a shady slice of American history and it’s clear the entire truth has never been revealed. So when the subject pops up in a concept, I usually take notice.

I was particularly intrigued by this premise, which wasn’t focusing on the actual assassination, but rather something that happened a full 5 months ahead of it. Could an event that took place in a small Irish city 8000 miles away from Dallas have had something to do with what happened on November 22nd, 1963? I didn’t know, but I wanted to find out. Strangely, any expectations of what I thought I was about to read were dashed within the first act. This Irish tale is a curious cross between a drama, a love story, and a thriller.

It’s June, 1963 in Cork City, Ireland. In two weeks, John F. Kennedy will be arriving to deliver a speech. It’s a turbulent period in Ireland, with a large portion of the population upset that the British keep sticking their noses in Ireland’s affairs. Since Kennedy’s speech is rumored to address some of these issues, and since the word is that it will be Pro-British, there’s a lot of fidgety Irish folk preparing for the worst. The IRA, in particular, is worried about the fallout if America publicly sides with Britain.

The Brady Bunch-sized Horgan family has lived in Cork City their whole lives. And the gem of the family is 19 year old Mary, a beautiful shop worker who, like most women of that era, is on the hunt for a husband. Unfortunately, her pursuits have led her into a disastrous date with Willy, a wrong-side-of-the-tracks type who, even though Mary has moved on, believes that the two are still together. A day in the life of Mary involves being on the lookout at all times, as she’s never sure where Willy is or what he’s capable of.

Luckily for Mary, she meets a dashing 30 year old American named Dean Reynolds. Although nobody knows what Dean does, a thick layer of charm and the non-invention of google keep the suspicions at bay. He seems nice enough. And he’s from America. So who cares what he does?

In the meantime, Mary is unaware that her two older brothers have joined the IRA. The Kennedy speech fears are reaching a fever pitch, and Cork’s IRA chief wants the brothers to deliver a letter to the local paper. The letter subtly warns Kennedy that if his speech is pro-British, there will be repercussions.

Back to Mary, who’s quickly falling in love with Dean. So blind is this love that she doesn’t much notice when her pervert boss is severely beaten. And that old Willy character? Yeah well, he hasn’t bothered her much recently because he’s DEAD. Doesn’t take Einstein to figure out Dean may be connected somehow. The suspicious-o-meter hits car alarm levels when Mary’s brothers spot Brendan out in a secluded field with a souped up sniper rifle, taking down targets hundreds of meters away. Could Dean have been sent to Ireland to assassinate Kennedy?

When the IRA gets wind of this, they start sweating the same bullets Dean’s shooting. They just put a public letter out vowing that if Kennedy showed support for Britain, they would retaliate. But they didn’t plan on actually *doing* anything to Kennedy. Now, if things shake out the way they’re looking to, and Kennedy is harmed or killed, the IRA could be in some hot water.

So what’s the deal? Is Dean really trying to kill the president? If so, will he be able to before the IRA get to him? And how does this affect Mary? Dean’s expressed interest in marrying her after Kennedy’s speech is over. Is she in trouble too ? Hmmm. I guess you’ll have to read the script to find out.

The first thing I noticed about The Shadow Before was that it was an odd way to approach a thriller. I think that worked both for it and against it. “For it” because I love reading scripts where I have no idea what the next page will bring, and because the love story and the mystery are so heavily intertwined here, I was always wondering which aspect would dictate the next plot point. I mean, I knew we were going to end up at Kennedy, but I had no idea how we were going to get there. “Against it” because I had no genre to ground me. “Thriller” and “love story” are such odd genres to mix that I always felt off-balance. It’s kind of like taking your girlfriend to the gun range on Valentine’s Day. Something doesn’t feel right about it. I think the bigger issue here though is that the concept hints at a JFK thriller, so that’s what I was anticipating. Disappointment crept in when that anticipation was only partially met.

(non-specific spoilers from here on) Another issue The Shadow Before runs up against is that we already know no one’s going to kill Kennedy, because, well, it’s history! And that takes away a good amount of suspense. This is why I dislike the idea of prequels in general, and why I don’t like films such as 2008’s Valkyrie. The entire movie is geared towards a climax that we already know the outcome of. That takes away one of your most powerful tools, the element of surprise. But there are ways to make this foreknowledge work for you, and it’s all in how you handle the characters. In American Beauty, for example, Lester tells us he’s going to die at the beginning of the film. Yet we’re still riveted because we see each of these characters develop motives to kill him. There’s still a big mystery involved. WHO is going to kill Lester? The Shadow Before uses a bit of that magic itself, as it takes the focus off of Kennedy, and puts it on Dean. The central question becomes, “Is Dean good or bad?” Is he here to kill the president or save him? And what happens then, if the IRA prevents him from doing either of these things?

But I think whenever you base your concept around JFK, and specifically his assassination, you’re tapping into an audience that’s eager for tidbits about the conspiracy, especially when you imply that the conspiracy is dealt with in your logline. For that reason, it was a little disappointing that this was such a self-contained story.And what I mean by “self-contained” is there’s nothing here that makes you look at the real assassination, which happened five months later, in a new light. And the hook kinda hints that there will be.

Still, this is a very well-written script and an engaging character story. I enjoyed never quite knowing where it was going, and for that reason, I think it’s worth the read.

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

What I learned: Whenever you tell the audience your ending ahead of time, especially at the beginning of the film, you’re putting the primary load of your screenplay on your characters. Since we know where the story’s going, the only uncertainty left is the characters who take us there. For this reason, you need to be extremely strong with character development if you use this device. If you don’t know what a central character flaw is or how a character arcs or how to set up original and compelling relationships between your characters, I would stay away from this device.

For the month of May, Scriptshadow will be foregoing its traditional reviewing to instead review scripts from you, the readers of the site. To find out more about how the month lines up, go back and read the original post here. This first week, we’re allowing any writers to send in their script for review. We warned them ahead of time that we’d be honest and judge their material aggressively, so put that Kleenex box away. There’s no crying in screenwriting. Actually, there’s lots of crying in screenwriting but that’s besides the point. On Monday, Roger tackled “Hell Of A Deal” by Joe Giambrone. Yesterday, I took on “The Deja Vu Of Sidney Sumpter Stu.” And today, I’m delving into the world of dark sports comedy.

Genre: Dark Comedy
Premise: A lifetime minor leaguer blackmails his way onto the New York Yankees.
About: Script number 3 of Amateur Week.
Writer: Dustin Smith
Details: 110 pages
Contact: dustindustyrex@gmail.com

Once Costner hit his 50s, it was the death of the fictional sports film as we knew it. Bull Durham? Ah-may-zing! Field of Dreams? Spec-tac-u-lar. That no-hitter movie he made? Sort of…good…in a boring kind of way. Nowadays, the only sports movies we get are broad comedies with Will Ferrell testing the limits of bafoonery or super serious real life dramas like that Matt Damon – Morgan Freeman Cricket flick. Makes me a might nostalgic if I do say so. Which is why I picked out “Blackball,” the quintessential perfect idea for a dark comedy. A minor leaguer blackmailing the owner of the Yankees to get on the team? I don’t know about you but that has all the ingredients to be a delicious late night treat if I say so.

So did Blackball (good title btw) break the string of two consecutive “What the hell did I just reads?” Let’s give this script its close-up and find out.

Hank Penders is a 40-something minor league lifer. This guy was born on the buses that travel through the heartland from ballpark to ballpark where dozens, and on a good day, hundreds of people come out to watch his team play. But poor Hank is nearing the end of his career, and when you’ve been doing the same thing for 40 some years, it’s not easy to imagine the next stage of your life.

Which is why Hank can’t believe his luck. The owner of the Yankees is in town to scout one of his teammates! Now by luck do I mean he takes the opportunity to make a case for his own promotion. ha ha ha. No. Hank notices that the town whore has seduced the owner back to her hotel. So he follows them and snaps a couple of primo pictures of the couple getting down to biznass. And just like that, Hank is in the most powerful position he’s ever been in in his long uneventful life.

So does he want with this power? Money? No. Women? No. Celebrity? No. Hank just wants to play for the New York Yankees.

So he blows into the Big Apple, and when the Yankees owner sees those pictures, he’s ready to give Hank everything he wants. The next thing you know, Hank is playing first base for the most storied sports franchise in American history. Except there’s one problem. Hank sucks. And I mean, he really sucks. He’s batting like .016, and he’s lucky to catch the ball even when it’s thrown directly into his mit. Immediately, the players, the fans, and the whole city, hate Hank. Wherever he goes, he gets booed and hissed at. So what does he do? Well, he complains. Hank really likes to complain. He complains to the manager when he doesn’t start. He complains to the owner when he gets suspended. He complains to other players, he complains to the other team, he complains to the umps. If I had to use one word to describe Hank, it would probably be: a Class-A complainer.

(spoilers below)

Anyway, with less than two weeks from the end of the season, New York likely out of the playoffs, Hank decides, the hell with it, I’ll take steroids! Hank then becomes the greatest player in the history of the world for two weeks. He hits like .900, racks up a bunch of home runs, is a gold-glover. He single-handedly wins the division for the Yanks. And just when his dream is about to reach its peak, the media suspects Hank of using steroids and he gets kicked off the team. Wah-wah-wahhhhh.

And that’s it. That’s the script.

I feel a little bit like Randy Jackson here but I’m just going to get into it. Dustin, you know I love you dog. You know I’m a fan, right? Okay, I’m going to be real here, because there are a bunch of mistakes that need to be addressed in this script.

First, Hank is an alienating protagonist. We don’t really like him because all he does is complain. You’d think Hank would be thankful for this rare opportunity to play for the Yankees. If I got away with something like conning my way onto the best team in baseball? I’d shut up and count my lucky stars until someone wised up and got rid of me. Instead, all Hank does is demand more from everyone. He’s never satisfied and always complaining about his situation.

Second, there’s no character development here. Hank’s not trying to overcome anything. Take Tim Robbins’ character “Nuke” in Bull Durham for instance. He’s trying to overcome his recklessness. He’s trying to find control, both in his game and in his life. Since Hank has nothing to overcome, he’s too simplistic. And simple = boring. When you get notes telling you your character isn’t “three-dimensional,” or doesn’t “rise above the page,” this is usually what they’re referring to.

Next, the story is too linear. It feels like we can see all the way to the end of the screenplay from the very first page. There are no major subplots, no big twists or turns, and no aforementioned inner journey. You have to mix it up more, give your main character more problems to solve. Give other characters more things to do. Shock us with a few reversals. We need to turn a corner every once in awhile. You want your script to be more Grand Prix and less drag race.

The biggest problem with Blackball, however, is that there’s no clear-cut character goal in the story. All we know is that Hank wants to play for the Yankees. Well Hank starts playing for the Yankees on page 60. Now what? What’s the end goal? What’s the story about? Is it just to see him get to the end of the season? That’s not very compelling. We need a clear-cut goal, a ticking time bomb to center the story. Otherwise we’re just sitting there wondering what the point is. Take Rocky, for instance. We know Rocky’s going to fight Apollo, so the movie always has that clear motivation and destination pushing it forward.

Finally, the ending solution for Hank was too easy and it came out of nowhere. All Hank had to do was take steroids and he’d become the greatest player in the world? That’s it? The big solution? Even if you make this a morality tale (steroids are bad), since Hank had never struggled with steroids or talked about steroids or had an opportunity to take steroids at any previous moment in the screenplay, this choice comes out of nowhere. If you don’t set up the big plot points in your movie, it’s going to feel like you’re making it up as you go along. And that’s how it felt here.

There are other things we could talk about but those are the bullet points. If I was only able to tell Dustin one thing, I’d tell him to explore his main character more. Dig deep, figure out his flaw, then build a story around him that consistently challenges that flaw. Rocky doesn’t believe in himself. That’s his flaw. And everything in the story, from the environment to the other characters, is a reminder that he SHOULDN’T believe in himself. That’s what makes his story so compelling, watching him fight that perception and finally overcome it in the fight with Apollo. And I know I’m comparing a drama to a dark comedy but it doesn’t matter what genre you’re in, you have to explore your main character.

Script link: Blackball

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

What I learned: I’m going to keep this simple. You don’t ever want to make your main character a whiner or a complainer. It’s one of those qualities that’s universally despised. Think about it. Do you know anyone who constantly whines and complains that you like? Of course not. So don’t give your hero those qualities.