Guess who’s back? Back again. Guess who’s back. Tell a friend! It’s Roger Balfour capitalizing on all the vampire mania with a review of Bubba Ho-Tep’s sequel: Hubba Bubba Something’s In The Tubba! Or something like that. I like when Roger reviews scripts because he always sees the best in them. It’s a reminder that I can be a bit too critical at times (not that I’ll change). Anyway, the good news is I’ve already read this week’s scripts, and while I’ve ranked a certain upcoming action-comedy-romance a strong ‘worth the read’, there is a 1.75 million dollar comedy spec from a few years back that was absolutely dreadful. I also have a dark psychological supernatural thriller that may be starring two gorgeous actresses. And finally a black list entry from 2006 that should get supporters of films like “The Squid And The Whale” and “Rachel Getting Married” excited (if they’re not too hopped up on anti-depressents that is). And hey, we should have a couple of script links as well. If I may quote Anakin Skywalker: “Yipeeee!” So let’s start it off with a little vampire action, shall we? Take it away Roger…

Genre: Horror, Black Comedy
Premise: Elvis shoots a film in Louisiana when he runs afoul a coven of she-vampires.
About: The sequel to 2004’s Bubba Ho-tep.
Writer: Don Coscarelli & Stephen Romano. Based on character by Joe R. Lansdale.

Bruce Campbell. As Elvis. Fighting She-Vampires.

Let’s get real, people.

You already know if you’re going to like this or not. You either loved Bubba Ho-tep or you hated it.

Wait.

Bruce Campbell has parted ways with the project? Pump the fucking brakes. Who the hell can bring the same classy B-movie gravitas to the role of the King? Who else can possibly bring a legendary Horror hero pedigree to the table other than the chinned-one?

Ron Perlman, that’s who.

Okay. So Campbell is out. Perlman is in. Campbell left over creative differences and writer changes. Giamatti is fucking in, as they say, to play Colonel Tom Parker. And this yarn sets up the third film.

Yep, Bubba Insert Classic Horror Creature Here is a trilogy. And writer-director Don Coscarelli envisions different actors playing Elvis for each sequel.

But didn’t Elvis die at the end of Bubba Ho-tep?

Yeah, and The Lone Ranger died when you saw him and Silver fly off the cliff during the last commercial break.

This is the serialized pulp story template. Heroes don’t die. They survive. Their living-legend status has equipped them to asexually reproduce new adventures. Or in Elvis’ case, another geriatric black comedy romp into the woods of Hammer Horror staples and EC-comic shenanigans.

So, nope. Of course Elvis didn’t die.

In fact, Bubba Nosferatu starts off right as Ho-tep ends. Cut to Nurse Ella in her bed, awakened by the death rattle of a four-thousand year old Mummy. She runs out of the Shady Rest retirement home, down an embankment and into the creek where Sebastian Haff, aka Elvis, lies in his soiled white jumpsuit, unconscious.

Nope. Ella ain’t gonna let him leave the building just yet. She straddles his chest and performs CPR, resuscitating the King back to life.

But during his near-death experience, instead of seeing a white light, he sees a horrible montage of suppressed memories…

A gold-plated revolver.

A flash of a demon vampire’s sharp teeth.

A spray of blood as faces twitch and contort in agony.

And the center-piece to this sequential Boschian tableau, the diabolical countenance of Colonel Tom Parker. Who will now be referred to as “The Colonel” from here on out.

Seventy-three year old Elvis wakes up in the back of Nurse Ella’s car. We learn that Elvis has been kicked out of Shady Rest. After all, he did give an actual sworn statement to the authorities stating that he battled a supernatural creature, and the resulting clash of iconic characters left behind a corpse. That of his only friend, eighty-three year old Jack “JFK” McLaughlin. Ella has been fired. We never find out why, exactly, but what the hell, the Devil’s in the details, right?

They’re on their way to The Big Easy. Ol’ Tiger has been transferred, and Nurse Ella has been tasked to deliver Big E to The Grand Dauphin Retirement Home in New Orleans, right on the waterfront, in exchange for a week’s worth of room and board while she looks for a new job. For her, the barter’s just fine.

But thing’s ain’t so fine for The Pelvis. There’s some real bad mojo, you see. It has to do with a movie picture Elvis got bamboozled into by The Colonel back in ’73. A picture that shot on location in The Crescent City. And Elvis has good reason to be suspicious because, according to his fragmented memories, some really weird vampiric shit went down on this movie shoot.

But hold on, we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

I want to talk about The Memphis Mafia. Now here’s a sequence, 8 pages into the script, that had me crying in front of the computer screen. It’s so great I wanted the movie to de-rail and turn into a story about these goofy fuckers. We get the vital stats of Otis Flanger, Cooter Mayhew, Shelby Jenson, and Marshal “Stack” Malone via glorious slow-motion, majestic freeze-frames, and multiple-split screens showcasing these curious characters in various out-fits and poses like we’re watching the titles to a 1970’s-era Cop Show.

They face off against Young Elvis, who sports his stylish, red-trimmed Martial Arts Gi. Of course, his T.C.B. insignia (Taking Care of Fucking Business to the ignorant) is emblazoned on the uniform. They get their asses handed to them. But you know, if you’re elite enough to be in the Memphis Mafia, you know that the unspoken rule is never let Elvis lose. And the sequence segues into what Elvis likes to call the Three-up Cover Formation. Which is a dazzling whirling-dervish of Young Elvis and his team attacking all flanks with punches and kicks and really intense 70’s soundtrack theme music. It’s classic martial arts stuff that comes into play later…when Young Elvis and the Memphis Mafia have to fight their way out of a she-vampire bloodbath slash orgy.

Yep, that part’s pretty awesome.

What about the rest of the story?

Rehash the plot of the first movie. Septuagenarian Elvis arrives at his new rest home. He’s frustrated about the boil he mistakes for cancer on his penis. He smears it with yellow dick goop. He exchanges witty banter with Nurse Ella about said dick and goop. Old people die mysteriously. Instead of flying scarab beetles elderly Elvis does battle with flying vampire bats. Instead of a tragicomical black dude who claims to be JFK, we have a tragicomical Native American dude who claims to be Chief Sitting Bull, leader of the Sioux Nation and slayer of General Custer.

Sure, he’s a neat character. After his role at Little Bighorn, The Chief joins Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. When a Paiute medicine man has a heart attack, Mr. Bull attempts to help him. The shaman is at death’s door, and he calls on The Great Spirit to bless him with eternal life. There’s a mix-up and Sitting Bull, instead of the medicine man, is struck by lightning. The Great Spirit has infused him with immortality. That’s right, The Chief can’t die.

Which comes in pretty handy for Elvis, because, let’s face it, he’s an old dude with a walker who will later engage in fisticuffs with she-vampires from an ancient Clan. He’s gonna need muscle like Sitting Bull.

But unfortunately for Sitting Bull, his blessing has become a curse as he’s spent the past 97 years being shuffled across old-folks homes all across the continent.

Anyways, it turns out that The Colonel employed some of his manipulative mojo to have Elvis transferred to The Grand Dauphin.

What the hell? The Colonel’s still alive?

Alive isn’t really the right word. Now, “undead”, that’s about right. Just like we’ve always known, Elvis’ manager is a vampire.

Here, have some of The Chief’s peyote buttons and let’s talk to the spirits. See who the real bad guy is.

You see, back in the 1940’s, while The Colonel was just a man, he fled Amsterdam under the suspicion of murder. He ingratiates himself into a family of rogue gypsies to learn his trade as a swindler. Except, one night, he attempts to dip the pockets of the wrong man. Prince Franz Black is his name, and being a vampire is his game. The Colonel is eventually turned and made a slave to Prince Black, under whom he sets up shop. He’s kept on a short leash by The Prince. His job is that of plunderer. He helps finance the Clan’s western expansion. He makes a killing investing in retirement communities, which also serve as way-stations for Black and his entourage where they can visit and feed on the livestock as needed.

But The Colonel’s first love is the music business.

And Elvis is his work-horse. But when his work-horse partially falls out of the limelight, it becomes time to insert some much-needed juice into his top earner’s career. He gets the fancy to orchestrate the King’s comeback into the movie business. Only problem is, it turns into a bloodbath.

What’s the new Elvis movie?

It’s called “The Curse of the She-Vampires”. And Elvis is gonna play a freelance demon hunter who moonlights as a nightclub singer to rid the world of vampires. His co-star is Claude Killgore, a third of the Unholy Triumvirate that included Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi.

The production goes to hell as Prince Black’s wives crash the party, unable to contain their bloodlust. Young Elvis dons his black leather jumpsuit designed by the meet-cute art-department girl, Jill. It’s a real beauty. Taken from the template of his ’68 comeback suit, it’s crafted into a vamp-proof, reinforced leather outfit. It’s actually fang-proof, kiddies. Armed with a gold-plated revolver, brass knuckles, throwing stars, and blades, and with the Memphis Mafia as back-up, they fight their way out of the blood orgy.

But during the blood riot Elvis is attacked by one of the wives. She attempts to bite him and she actually breaks a fang on the suit, but the other fang scrapes his flesh. He’s inflicted with a curse when he’s in proximity to the clan, so when Old Elvis gets to New Orleans, he starts to regress in age. He gets a little younger, kinda like Benjamin Button, but not that full-throttle. The curse seems to be a minor detail in the story, as it’s not really played to full-effect.

So Young Elvis, The Memphis Mafia, and Jill escape the she-vampires. Prince Black tightens the leash on The Colonel and somewhere along the way, Elvis hurts himself throwing his hip out during a performance and he loses part of his memory. He trades places with Sebastian Haff, who is then metaphorically sucked dry by The Colonel and Prince Black as they work him to death.

In present day, The Colonel’s grand scheme is to get back in business with Elvis. So all of this is precursor to the ultimate business meeting: An aged Elvis, a vampiric Colonel, and the shark Prince Black.

But the Prince could care less. The Clan Matriarch, Momma Nosferatu, an abomination in a wheelchair, who is so old she no longer needs blood, decides she’ll break her fast for Elvis. Another blood-bath ensues and Sitting Bull’s curse is broken as he sacrifices his life to save Elvis and Nurse Ella. Yeah, I don’t know how it’s broken. It has something to do with Prince Black’s supernatural power and Sitting Bull’s exposure to it. Don’t ask me, I only read the thing.

Does it deliver?

There’s the rub. This baby is a strange beast. The writers manage to capture that elusive Nacogdoches-flavor of Joe R. Lansdale quirk (is that a “Late Night” Doritos flavor? You be the judge.) Stylistically, anyways. But the problem here is the decision to tell two stories.

So it’s kinda like reading a sequel AND a prequel at the same time.

They try to braid the story lines together, but it just doesn’t work.

One story is way more entertaining than the other.

I dunno, I think the novelty of a geriatric Elvis wears thin two movies in. And when you just rehash the gags from the first film, it grows boring. Like Old Elvis, it just made me feel tired.

I kept gravitating to the story about Young Elvis. It kicks ass. The characters are more interesting, the dialogue is zippier, and it’s a faster world. There’s also some hilarious commentary about the movie business, and The Colonel is a fantastic character.

That’s so fuckin’ Giamatti.

I mean, you can taste the guy sinking his teeth into this role.

But again, it’s a frustrating read. I can’t help but wonder what Joe R. Lansdale could have come up with. I mean, if he were to write another novella called Bubba Nosferatu, what would his take on things be? And I wonder if Bruce wondered the same thing. Is that why he dropped out of the project? Alas, speculation.

But yeah, this sucker ends with Old Elvis and Nurse Ella stranded on the side of the road. Their car has died as they driving out of New Orleans. The last shot is of Ella pushing Elvis down the road in his wheel-chair before they cue the title card for the return of Elvis in:

“Bubba Sasquatch, Killer Apes of the Northern Woods”.

**link removed**

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] barely kept my interest
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: If you have funny yellow dick goop commentary in your first movie, it might not be that funny in your second movie. Seriously though, this script made me think of creating great gags. Those scenic exclamation points that sequences revolve around. Here, The Memphis Mafia is a great concept, and their Three-up Cover Formation is a great gag. So great it pretty much steals the movie. The Fang-Proof Jumpsuit is a cool concept, and the gag is that we get to see an awesome shot of a vampire’s fang breaking off on it. These are clever, entertaining moments that get the blood flowing. Gags make the story pop, unfortunately, they can’t save the story alone. But a good gag is the punch-line to your action scenes, and it’s always nice to experience the pure invention of a successful gag.

Ever since I saw Neill Blomkamp’s short masterpiece, “Alive In Joburg,” I became obsessed with him. I googled the shit out of everything that even remotely sounded like “Blomkamp” and when I found out he was doing the Halo movie, it was a bit like I imagine heroin must feel like. Or your first Krispy Kreme donut. Well we all know how that fell apart and Bloomkamp seemed to disappear off the planet. I was so bummed because I felt like we were missing out on a unique new voice who was totally going to change the way Hollywood made movies. Then the announcement came that he was turning “Alive In Joburg” into a feature film called “District 9” and it was a little bit like I imagine crack must feel like. Or your first animal style double-double. Because these days trailers tell us the entire movie and since this was so low on the summer radar, I knew the marketing team would be forced to show every great shot in the film, I avoided it all. And today, I went into District 9 knowing absolutely nothing about what I was going to see other than that giant ship in the sky and a lot of South Africans.

Even after all that hype, I still walked away amazed. We’re looking at the next James Cameron here folks. Sci-fi like this has never been done before. Within two minutes I actually believed this was happening. That aliens had landed on our planet. — I’m not even going to get into all the unique choices Blomkamp and co-writer Terri Tatchell made. I’d just like to highlight a clever screenwriting move of theirs and how it affected the entire movie. Without it, the movie wouldn’t have been the same.

In the film, the very first shot we get of the aliens is in their ship, all huddled up, cowering away from the light, malnourished, sick, and terrified. It’s 3 seconds of screentime and yet it sets the tone for how you’ll perceive them for the entirety of the film. You feel sorry for them. In other words, you sympathize with these creatures. Without us sympathizing with the aliens, without us wanting their life to be better or wanting them to get back home, the movie doesn’t work. So that single shot has a huge impact on us.

This can be applied to any character in any screenplay. Introduce them in a terrible situation and we’ll want to root for them. Human nature is that we don’t want bad things to happen to people who don’t deserve it.

And oh yeah. If you’re even remotely interested in sci-fi, go see this movie!

Genre: Drama
Premise: A young financial whiz tries to take down one of the world’s biggest hedge funds from the inside.
About: This is of course the follow-up to the 1987 Oliver Stone film, “Wall Street.” Michael Douglas will reprise his role as Gordon Gekko. Shia LaBamBam will continue his streak of starring in every hot movie that’s being made. Vietnam vet Oliver Stone is back at the reigns, helming his most noteworthy picture since the invention of the personal computer.
Writer: Allan Loeb

This script has been burning a hole in my hard drive for months and to be honest, I was never going to review it. I was never a fan of the first film. It always felt to me like a movie that wanted to be better than it actually was. Of course, I was pretty young when I saw it. All I knew about the stock market was people yelling and throwing pieces of paper at each other. But I figured with the way the economy is wreaking havoc on our lives, Wall Street 2 might have something timely to say.

So I have good news and I have bad news. The bad news is that Oliver Stone is directing the film. I have nothing against Mr. Stone. When he re-edited Alexander 18 times, I said ‘the more the merrier.’ Is Jared Leto gay? Is he not gay? There’s an app for that in the Alexander films. It’s just that the man hasn’t inspired confidence in awhile. The *good* news is that Alan Loeb is the writer. You may remember Alan from my review of The Only Living Boy In New York, a “Graduate”-like tale of a confused 20-something desperately trying to keep his life in order. I liked that script quite a bit, so I was intrigued to see what he would do with the Wall Street franchise (is it really a franchise now?)

Jacob Moore is pissed. Why is he pissed? Because someone just killed his boss. Well, that’s not entirely true. Someone started a rumor about his boss’ investment firm that eventually sank the company’s stock price, which led to the company going under, which led to the boss playing chicken with a subway train…and losing. Luckily, Jacob was given a 1.5 million dollar bonus just days earlier, enough to secure the most extravagant engagement ring money can buy for the woman he plans to spend the rest of his life with. “Take me to the Fuck You room,” he tells the jeweler.

You see Jacob’s stuck on the bubble. His boss was a bit of a father figure and after a few days away from Wall Street he’s beginning to think maybe it isn’t worth it. Why not dance off to a quaint little town in the middle of Americana and build a family? We’ll never know how close Jacob came to making that choice because Jacob’s fiance just happens to be the daughter of Gordon Gekko – yes, Michael Douglas’s character from the first film. Gekko got out of jail a few years back and spends his days broadcasting economic doom-and-gloom to anyone who will listen. He’s even got a new book explaining how the American economy is a time bomb waiting to explode. A little side note is that Gekko can ony talk about the economy. He can’t trade in it anymore. The SEC won’t let him within a hunred miles of a broker.

So when a still sore Jacob comes to Gekko for his blessing, Gekko calls him out. You don’t want my blessing, he tells Shia. You want advice on how to take down the man that “killed” your boss. Gekko makes a serious if contrived deal that only happens in Screenplay Land: He’ll help him take down the bad guys if Jacob helps him reestablish a relationship with his daughter. Jacob realizes this is a chance to learn from the best, get some revenge, and lose the audience.

The man who destroyed his boss’ fund is an eccentric billionaire hedge fund manager named Bretton Woods (gotta give it to Loeb – cool name). He’s the kind of guy that flies in the world’s biggest piano prodigy for some afternoon entertainment. He lives by the mantra: “The only thing worse than death is becoming irrelevant.” Gekko’s plan is for Jacob to get a job with Bretton, gain his trust, then make a whole bunch of bad trades that bankrupt his ass (my words, not his). Gekko will be advising him from the sidelines, telling him when and what to move.

Unfortunately this all plays out about as well as it sounds. The more contrived your story, the harder it is for the audience to buy into. Money Never Sleeps plays out like a dramatized version of today’s news headlines, giving us no new or behind-the-scenes information, and does so with a story that doesn’t have any bite. The face of the franchise, Michael Douglas, plays a neutered down role for 90% of the story, feeling more like an assistant coach than the power hungry face of the team.

It wasn’t lost on me that a movie all about money feels like a desperate attempt to make money. Just because you don’t have ninjas with a kung-fu grip on your poster doesn’t mean you’re cinematizing a story for a noble cause. I pose this question to you: Is this story worth telling? I don’t think I need to answer that question to answer it. Stone and Douglas clearly see this as a way to get back in the game. And that’s fine. Vin just did it with The Fast And The Furious franchise. But we all know what kind of movie results from a project without any passion behind it.

Luckily “Money Never Sleeps” has a saving grace. And that saving grace is its ending. Without giving too much away, a role that looked pretty thankless for Douglas comes roaring back up the charts like a hot stock. Loeb’s previous 105 pages were all a carefully constructed set-up to give us a shocker of a finale. And I have to admit, it worked. But the end result feels like a government bailout. Sure we feel okay now. But does it solve the underlying structural issues in the system? I’m afraid not. The best final 30 pages in history couldn’t have saved this sequel.

[ ] Bear Sterns
[x] Sell
[ ] Hold
[ ] Buy
[ ] Gold

What I learned: You have to make the connections in your story as direct and personal as possible. Jacob’s doomed boss is not his *actual* father. He’s merely a father *figure*. Bretton didn’t kill Jacob’s boss. He started a rumor that led to the downfall of J’s boss’ company which led to his boss’ choice to commit suicide. The connections here are too loose. Imagine if the boss*was* Jacob’s father and that Bretton *actually* murdered him, but Jacob couldn’t prove it in court. So the only way to take him down was to work for Bretton and destroy him from the inside. Sure you’d have to figure out a reason why Bretton would hire him under those conditions, but it’s still doable. And because things were direct (murder) and personal (his father), we’d be so much more in to the Jacob revenge storyline.

I’ve been meaning to put a review of this up forever. Luckily, Roger has rescued me with this in-depth look at “Killing On Carnival Row.” As you can see, he absolutely loves the script. And I know another long-time reader who thinks it’s a masterpiece as well. I haven’t read it. But if you’re into this kind of world, chances are you’ll react the same way these guys did.

Genre: Dark, urban fantasy. Murder Mystery. Horror. Science Fiction. Crime noir. Adventure.
Premise: In the city of The Burgue, a police inspector pursues a serial killer who is targeting fairies.
About: Sold to New Line Cinema in late 2005. Immediately attracted the attention of Guillermo Del Toro and Hugh Jackman. Del Toro dropped out of the project and Neil Jordan is currently attached to direct. This is Beacham’s first spec script. Written in his early 20’s. Beacham was hired to write “The Clash of the Titans” remake and is also writing “The Tanglewood” for Arnold and Anne Kopelson.
Writer: Travis Beacham.

The Burgue. A Third Man Vienna-esque city. Separated into four separate zones that are controlled by one central zone, Oberon Square.

We’ve got Argyle Heights, otherwise known as the Academic District. There’s the Docklands, center of industrialization and shipping. Thirdly, Finistere Crossing. The human zone.

Then there’s Carnival Row.

The Fairie Quarter.

Home to the sordid fairie brothels.

Someone’s murdering fairies and leaving their broken and exsanguinated bodies on display, clipped of their wings. No. Scratch that. Their moth-like wings have been sawed from their torsos, leaving torn alabaster skin and the rawness underneath in their absence. And of course, there’s the twin tell-tale puncture wounds in their necks.

The Burgue.

City of soot and sorcery. Humans and monsters. Fairie whores and drug peddlin’ dwarves.

An urban fantasist’s wet dream, told in Art Noveau-scope.

Guys, this script is amazing. It’s a mordant phantasmagoria. A Victorian penny dreadful, its hard-bond pulp pages soaked in absinthe and hallucinogenic fey blood and set ablaze with the fire from an exploding gas-lamp. It’s Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” theurgically amalgated (or twined) to Raymond Chandler’s “The Long Goodbye”.

It’s Marlowe trying to solve a murder mystery in Bas-Lag. (And if you get this reference dear, astute readers, I tip my hat to you.)

And guess what?

It fucking works.

So who’s our Philip Marlowe, Rog?

Inspector Rycroft Philostrate, of The Burgue Metropolitan Constabulary. Fairie sympathizer.

Yep. With a city census that reads like an AD&D Monster’s Compendium, the writer capitalizes on his setting and its inhabitants and deftly weaves in social criticism as part of his theme. With the focus on racism and sexism.

Magnify the thematic lens and you’ll find a character struggling with the difficulties that revolve around a compelling interracial romance in an unforgiving city such as The Burgue.

It’s like Spike Lee’s “Do The Right Thing” and “Jungle Fever” had inter-species babies with characters out of a China Mieville novel. The anti-human propaganda pamphlet, The Screaming Banshee, details the crimes and wrong-doings of the human government in Oberon Square against the fey race.

Most humans look down on the fairies. Completely happy to make sure they’re confined to their little Tirnanog ghetto. But to Mayor Montague Boniface III’s wife, Dame Whitley Boniface, the fair, winged race deserve equal rights. After all, the fey are painters, poets and musicians. They are a cultural treasure. The Dame is what you might call a fairie activist.

But in the mayor’s mind, their art is not so much the skilled performance artistry of the courtesan, but the wet and sloppy fellatio one can procure for five guilder from the down-on-her-luck pix street-walker inside of a black, horse-drawn carriage.

The tension in The Burgue is as palpable as the Gothic fog that covers its streets.

And our guy, Philo, is not only a detective for a homicide department that is mostly staffed with pix-hatin’ sergeants, but a human who is in lust and love with Tourmaline La Roux, a fairie courtesan employed at Le Chambre De Madame Mab.

He’s torn between rescuing her from her life as a fairie escort and the risk that comes with it: Being ridiculed and slandered by his mates and fellow inspectors and constables if he were to be seen hand-in-hand with a pixie. It could mar his reputation, his career.

But when Tourmaline is de-winged and turned into a husk by Unseelie Jack, the case becomes a quest for salvation. Philo charges recklessly into The Burgue’s underworld, consumed with vengeance and guilt, obsessed with finding his lover’s killer.

A ticking clock hovers over Philo as he becomes a suspect, and he not only must exonerate himself as the suspected killer, but he must do something he was never able to do while Tourmaline was alive…

Stand up in courage for her. Show the world that he loves her by finding her killer…whatever hesheit is…and bringing hesheit to justice.

What’s so great about this script?

The invention. The imagination. The elegant world-building. The social commentary. The murder mystery and how it plays out. The characters. The dialogue. The action. The monsters. The magic. The gore. The humor. The emotion.

All rendered through the pen of a screenwriter who has uncanny control of his craft. This is a seamless screenplay. And it’s that much more impressive when you think of the sheer spectacle of all the ingredients bubbling in this witch’s pot.

It requires a delicate balance on precarious scales to tell a tale that is such an ambitious confluence of genres.

Especially when Fantasy is one of these genres.

If one setting on your control panel is slightly off, you can lose all sense of verisimilitude. You have to know your conventions in-and-out, and above all, you have to write your characters like they are real people.

This is exciting. Not only has someone turned to the genre of what China Mieville has dubbed Weird Fiction, the mash-up of science fiction, urban fantasy, sword-and sorcery, horror, gothic romance, et al., but they did so with such effective execution.

In screenplay format.

Screenplays are a whole other ball-game. These are the type of stories normally told in prose fiction, in sprawling novels and the odd collection of short stories put out by the independent press. In some YA fiction.

What Peter Straub calls The New Fabulists.

Go into the bookstore and look for authors like Neil Gaiman, Caitlin R. Kiernan, Jim Butcher, Alan Campbell, Charlie Huston, Richard K. Morgan, Kelly Link, Gene Wolfe and look at the stories. It’s smart genre fare that can’t always be easily shoved into categories because it attacks all genres from all sides.

“Killing on Carnival Row” is Dark Fantasy done well. Something we don’t see a lot of, but something we’re bound to see more of.
Tell us about some of the novelties, the flights of imagination you like.

1.) The Special Loupgarou Unit. In our world, the police have K-9 Units. Well, in The Burgue, the constables have young men manacled to control leashes. Syringes are inserted into IV tubes in their wrists, and suddenly eyes turn yellow and teeth sharpen as an induced metamorphosis transforms men into wolves. A Werewolf Unit. What’s not to love?

2.) The Drakes. In our world, the police have birds, or helicopters. In Philo’s world, the constabulary has Drakes. Giant mechanical dragonflies operated by a human pilot. On the back, a gunner mans a Gatling gun should they need firepower. Gatling guns and steampunk insects are always okay in my book.

3.) The Haruspex. A Macbethean soothsayer employed by The Burgue Metropolitan Constabulary. She can read minds. She sees the last memories of corpses. Her visions are just as valuable as an eye-witness testimony, and just as admissable.

4.) Mabsynthe. Iridescent green syrup distilled from the blood of fairies. Mabsynthe junkies are kinda like opium junkies. You pour the green treacle into a glass bottle affixed with a hose and pipe. A hookah. Then you light up and inhale the smoke through a pipe. Hallucinogenic. Most dealers combine the blood of several fairies to jumble up the visions. If you’re taking a hit from Mabsynthe that’s just from one fairie, you enter the present mind of the fairie. See what she sees. Feel what she feels. A really inventive plot device that comes into play later in the story.

5.) Twining. Theurgic Amalgamology. The manipulation of biology through advanced technology and ancient magics. One of the tools of twining is a magical black glove. Fueled by magic and science. The wearer wields it to manipulate biology. There’s some bodily havoc in the 3rd act when Philo’s side-kick, Vignette, dons the glove and proceeds to kick some villainous ass. With her fist. Fucking fantastic.

6.) Unseelie Jack. Okay, I’m not gonna spoil this. But I read this script before I went to bed. Mistake. I had nightmares about hesheit. Nightmares. The only thing I will say, this is a great creature feature villain. Like Maryann Forrester in True Blood, hesheit is something truly unique and new and cool. But it’s simple and old at the same time. And it’s a detail that probably helped the writer get a job on the “Clash of the Titans” remake.

Wow. This sounds insane. This insanity doesn’t drown out the story or characters?

Not at all. For the most part, when these novelties and oddities aren’t used as plot devices or as characters, this stuff is presented in snippets of detail to help create the atmosphere. It’s exquisite and balanced world building.

Philo and his journey is always in the foreground, always the center of the plot in this baroque world. And it’s a great journey. In Shane Black-fashion, Philo picks up a buddy at the beginning of the 2nd Act, and she’s a great character.

Vignette is a faerie Philo saves from Unseelie Jack. He finds her after her wings have been sawed off and right before she’s about to be drained. He nurses her back to health, and she helps him hide from the dragnet enforced by his former employers, The Metropolitan Constabulary.

After all, who knows the nooks and crannies, the secret places of this cobble-stone and gaslight city better than a fairie?

She’s also the anonymous star writer for The Screaming Banshee, and she uses the headquarters for its secret printing press, located in a mini-necropolis underneath The Old Fairie Cemetery, to hide Philo.

Together, their budding relationship is best described as a Murtagh-Riggs and Han-Leia amalgam. You’ve got the witty banter and the developing romance.

And it’s sexy as hell.

The character highlight for me was a surprising, revelatory character moment where Philostrate reveals the story of his past. What makes him who he is today. The stuff that’s forged his character. He’s a human refugee from Hy-Brasil, the city of flowers. His parents were officers in The Burguish Imperial Navy stationed in Tirnanog. They were part of the Human Concession in this foreign land. They perished in the Scourge that drove the fey from their lands, and Philo was saved by an old fairie opera singer.

It’s good stuff. It bonds to you.

What else was impressive?

Reading this script is like feasting on language. But it doesn’t feel over-written. There’s an economy to the lush prose, a restraint. I suppose what impressed me the most was what some of these passages evoked.

There were moments where I felt like I was reading something by Bradbury, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Byron and Mary Shelley. And I can’t think of any higher compliment than that.

Here’s a glimpse:

It climbs up onto a rock in the distance. Stretching, contorting, opening its mouth impossibly wide.

BOTTOM
This bit still gives me the creeps.

A human face pushes through the open mouth. A whole head emerges. Curly red hair. A hand. An arm. A shoulder.

The girl underneath pulls off the dark sealskin as if she’s sliding out of a tight leather skirt.

MOIRA stands on the rock in her “human” form, completely nude. Slim fair-skinned body flecked in a blizzard of light pink freckles. Her ears pointed like a faerie’s.

Philostrate politely turns away. Bottom stares slack-jawed with a mix of morbid fascination and disgust.

EXT. BOULDER ON THE BEACH — MOMENTS LATER

Moira dresses herself from a heap of clothes strewn on the rock. Philostrate and Bottom approach.

PHILOSTRATE
Good morning Miss Moira. I’m Inspector Philostrate.

She meets him with sharp eyes, bright as emeralds. Inhuman.

PHILOSTRATE (CONT’D)
You found the body, did you?

Moira nods. She picks up the shed sealskin, singing softly as she pets it. The soft pelt purrs back. Bottom grimaces.

BOTTOM
A separate creature, is it?

Another curt, silent nod.

PHILOSTRATE
Let’s not waste the lady’s time.
(to Moira)
You can feel free to talk. I’m not fluent in selkie-speak, but I can muddle through.

Finally, she speaks. Her language, a song, a dozen voices in one, flowing eerie harmonies.

MOIRA
Corpse caught in backwards currents/moth caught in the cobweb of creation/clipped wings plucked from silken firmaments/ sticky strands clinging/sinister spider spinning/ poor poor singless wingless pixie

BOTTOM
You want me to write this bilge down?

The 3rd act is intense. Satisfying. A gory, noir-infused Hammer Horror extravaganza.

And most of all…our hero not only gets what he wants at the end of his journey, the writer gives him what he needs. Redemption.

Script link: No link

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] barely kept my interest
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[x] genius

What I learned: Um, what a unique and brilliant spec script looks like? Seriously, this script should be required reading for anyone who is interested in writing smart genre fare. The attention to detail, the focus on character, the rising action, the tight scenes and transitions, the seamlessly woven plot and sub-plot and how they orbit around each other like twin satellites, broadcasting the overarching story. Read this script. Get a feel for the foundation, the architecture. You’ll get suspense, horror, action, melodrama, dread, love, passion, guilt, and salvation. How to balance spectacle with quiet character moments. But most of all, enjoy its many wonders.

Wow! Genius. I actually wrote Roger back and told him, “You understand that I haven’t given a single ‘genius’ review on the site yet, right?” I explained that I’ll probably only give 1 or 2 geniuses a year. Was he positive he wanted to go with a perfect rating? He reaffirmed his stance. So there you have it. The first official genius rating on Scriptshadow. (although I haven’t reviewed them, the top 3 in my Top 25 all carry ‘genius’ ratings). Enjoy the script!

Just a reminder. If you’re a repped writer and still haven’t made your first sale, you have til the end of tomorrow (Saturday) to get your script in to me. Some writers/agents have expressed reservations about sending in material as the exposure of the script would make it difficult to sell. Obviously, this is something that’s never been done before so you have no idea what the response will be. But even if that concerns you, maybe this is a strong script you already went out with at a bad time in the marketplace. Maybe it’s a script you – the writer – think is your best work but it’s a hard sell. Maybe something similar got snatched up, preventing your own sale, even though your script was immeasurably better. This could be that second chance you’re looking for.

Anyway, here’s the original post (oh, it’s now FIVE scripts instead of four):

So I’m doing something different next week. I want to give five writers a chance to get some exposure. The only catch is you have to have agency representation and not yet have sold a script. If you meet those requirements, send me your script, your agency, and a logline. I’ll take the five most interesting loglines and review those scripts Monday-Thursday. If you don’t want your script posted or you won’t be able to take a potentially negative review, then you shouldn’t participate. I know a lot of you unrepresented writers are crying foul here but there’s a reason I’m only allowing represented writers. First, I don’t want to be inundated with 10,000 e-mails. But more importantly, this is an exercise to review scripts from writers who *were* able to land representation, but have not yet been able to sell a script. What’s the difference in quality between a represented and an unrepresented writer? What’s the difference in quality between a represented writer and a represented writer with a sale? Is the difference merely a matter of luck? That’s what I want to explore. Who knows? Maybe we’ll find something great. Send the scripts to this e-mail: Carsonreeves2@gmail.com. There is no guarantee your script will be chosen but you have my word that I will delete all scripts I don’t use. Deal?

Okay, now let’s make one of you guys a millionaire.

Edit: I’ve decided to allow Manager representation as well. Though the choices will be weighted to favor agency representation.

Accepting submissions until: Saturday, August 1st, 11:59pm Pacific Time