Welcome to Scriptshadow’s second ever interview. For those of you who’ve been with the site for awhile, you already know about my love for Mike Million’s script, “Tenure”, which is number 8 on my Top 25 list (my review can be found here). The script, which landed on the Black List in 2005, eventually attracted interest from Luke Wilson. Funding was secured soonafter and within months, Mike was directing his first film. Mike is definitely one of the good guys in the business, and was very helpful in putting this interview together. So let’s get to it, shall we?

SS: You made the Black List in 2005 with 5 votes. It seems like these days The Black List is going the way of Sundance – with more and more people lobbying to get their projects on it. It’s clear why, with seemingly half of the scripts becoming movies. What are your thoughts on the list and what did it do for Tenure?

MM: I think the Black List is a great thing. I was on it in 2005 which – if I’m not mistaken — was the first year they did it. I had two scripts with multiple mentions that year – TENURE, and a script I wrote called ANALOG.

Honestly, I think I got a couple emails from my agent and a few Hollywood types congratulating me, but that was about it! That said, I’m sure it increased the visibility of both scripts. It’s always an honor to be included on “best of” type lists. I remember sending the list to my parents and pointing out to them that I – their son — was on the same list (twice!) as Aaron Sorkin and David Benioff, to which they replied – “Who are they?”

So, yeah, I’m a fan of the Black List. And you can’t argue with their success ratio. I honestly have no idea if it actually helped TENURE get made, but it certainly didn’t hurt!

SS: How many scripts had you written before Tenure? Was Tenure your favorite one? Or was it just the one that received the best response?

MM: I think I had 3 completed feature scripts before TENURE. And about 100 incomplete ones! I had optioned another script (ANALOG) a year or so earlier and, TENURE was my attempt to follow that script up with a straightforward (i.e. more commercial) comedy. ANALOG is a drama/comedy, but it has a slightly darker edge to it than TENURE does. The response has been great for both scripts, actually. And I hope ANALOG will be the next movie I direct.

SS: I loved Tenure because I attended a small liberal arts college and this really brought me back to that world. But were you ever nervous that a “small liberal arts college” setting might be too narrow a subject matter? Did that ever cross your mind?

MM: I think the world of college is something that most people can connect with – whether it’s a small liberal arts college or a big state school. Mostly, I wanted “Grey College” to be a realistic, funny place. NOT the idealized, perfect – fall foliage in every shot — college world that we see in a lot of college movies. So I didn’t shy away from the small liberal arts college setting at all, I embraced it. I also think the story has enough universal themes – mid-life crisis, fear of losing your job, late coming of age, etc. — that people will be on board regardless of the setting.

SS: Staying with that, there’s that eternal screenwriter’s debate of “Should I write something commercial or should I write something I love?” Which side of the fence do you fall on?

MM: I think it’s possible to do both. One thing I try to do is – when I’m thinking of an idea – is try to boil the movie down to one sentence. I know this is not a revolutionary idea, but it really helps. Test your sentence out on a few people – if they immediately “get it”, then chances are you’ve got a commercial movie idea on your hands. If the idea takes a lot of explaining, then you’re screwed!

But every script is different, so there are no hard and fast rules. TENURE started out with a world – I simply wanted to write a movie about the world of college and professors. ANALOG started with a character.

And to your “love” question – I strongly believe that the best writing happens when you love your idea, character, world, etc. If you have a big, commercial idea, but you don’t love it – that will show in the writing.

SS: I’m a big fan of the dialogue in your script. It doesn’t draw attention to itself and yet it’s still very funny. What’s the secret to good dialogue?

MM: Dialogue is something that has always come easy for me. I think it’s initially what drew me to screenwriting vs. trying to write a novel. My family would probably say it’s because I talk a lot. I’d probably say it’s because THEY talk a lot. Wow. How boring is this answer? I think someone just died reading this. I just killed one of your readers.

One tip I would give aspiring screenwriters is to keep your dialogue short. If you listen to the way people usually talk it’s often in short, clipped, incomplete sentences – and that’s the way I try to write dialogue. I use a lot of elipses (…) and short beats (beat) in between thoughts, so that it sounds like the character is thinking while they are talking.

SS: What’s the one thing you know you have to nail to make a screenplay work? And how do you go about doing that?

MM: The absolute most important thing for me is that the reader has to CARE about the characters. And you should be able to make this happen in the first 10 pages of the script. Obviously, the story is hugely important too, but if you have a great story with terrible characters, the script won’t work. The way I try to hook people into my characters is through sympathy. I try to find a way to make people feel sympathetic toward my main character – maybe they feel sorry for their situation, or see a little bit of themselves in the character. Once you do that work, people are on board and the rest is easy. Actually the rest is hard as hell, but at least now you’ve got a good character to build the story around.

SS: What’s your process for getting your screenplay ready to send out? How many friends do you give it to? How many times do you rewrite? How do you know when it’s finally ready?

MM: I typically show about 5 people my first drafts. If they all come back to me with similar ideas/issues – then I know that’s a problem area in the script. As far as sending the script out wide – I think it should be at least a second draft. I tend to rewrite a lot while I’m writing though, so usually by the time I’m done with the second draft it’s pretty polished.

What I’ve found is that I’m kind of a glutton for feedback, but that it isn’t always helpful unless the script is actually READY for feedback. If you start giving out pages too early, sometimes it can mess up the process. So I’ve become a lot more careful about when I give out pages. Writing is a personal process – once you open it up to other opinions the process will change. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, just be ready for those opinions.

SS: Do you have both a manager and an agent? Do you think you need both? And how does a new screenwriter get an agent?

MM: I have a manager and an agent. For me, having both works well. They can serve as checks and balances, and they each have a different set of contacts in the industry – which hopefully gives me more exposure. That said, I think it’s up to the writer to decide what he or she needs in terms of representation.

Ahhh… the age-old question “how do I get an agent?” Truly, the only way I know how is to write a good script. Make friends with assistants and give them your scripts. Enter screenwriting contests that have good reputations and industry exposure. And don’t be afraid to use every single possible connection you have!

Another word of advice to aspiring screenwriters – don’t get wedded to one script. If you finish a script, but the reception is luke warm, write another one. Hollywood loves to tell us about the 20 year-old kid who wrote one script and sold it for a million dollars. Good for that kid. But the truth is that is incredibly rare. Most successful writers have several bad scripts under their belt before they have any success in the industry.

SS: It seems like everybody thinks they have a good idea for a movie but how do you really know if you have a good idea? Can you give us an early screenplay idea of yours that you thought was brilliant but in retrospect realized it was terrible? (if not, I can supply you with plenty)

MM: My first screenplay was called KEVORKIAN SUMMER. No joke. I still can’t believe the title alone didn’t get me a blind deal at every studio in town! It was about two college kids who go down to Mexico for the summer and get involved in an assisted suicide. Try to pitch that one! It’s actually a fun script. I bought the script for PULP FICTION and Syd Field’s book “Screenplay”, read them both and wrote my first script.

The worst idea I’ve probably ever had was when this folk-singer guy who worked in a toll-booth emailed me out of the blue. His email was really weird and kind of sad – talking about how he’s been working in a toll-booth for 20 years and how he’s REALLY a musician and how he’s written hundreds of songs. I was like – what a great idea for a movie – the toll-booth folk singer! As a script, that one never quite got out of the gates. I even approached the wonderful radio show THIS AMERICAN LIFE about it. Not sure if they even returned my calls. I’m telling you — someday, someone will make a great toll-booth folk-singer movie and I’ll be pissed.

SS: Going from directing short films and commercials to directing big movie stars on your first feature film is a huge step. Some would say about as likely as spotting Bigfoot. How did Tenure go from spec script to “Go movie”?

MM: A lot of luck and good timing. The first step was finding a producer who would support me as a first-time director – and that was Paul Schiff. It’s incredibly hard to find people in Hollywood who are willing to take risks on first-time directors, but Paul did, and we were off and running. We shopped the script around to financiers and had nibbles, but they all basically said the same thing – come back to us when you get a star. So we started sending it to actors and it’s really still unbelievable to me that we ended up with Luke Wilson. He was my first choice and had been since I wrote the script. Years before TENURE was made, I created a “pitch book” to help get the movie going and I told the storyboard artist to use Luke Wilson’s likeness. The fact that we ended up actually casting him is amazing. Once Luke was on board, a financier stepped up to the plate and suddenly we were in Pennsylvania making a movie! By Hollywood standards, this movie came together very quickly.

I also have to give a lot of credit to my manager and one of the producers of the film – Brendan McDonald. He worked tirelessly getting the script around before we had any real momentum.

SS: Do you look at scriptwriting differently after having directed?

MM: Absolutely. One huge lesson I learned is that sometimes my scene descriptions are fun to read, but hard to film. For example, in the script I described Grey College like this:
[scrippet]
EXT. GREY COLLEGE – DAY
A light snow falls on Grey College — a small, unremarkable liberal arts college. The campus is pretty enough with stone buildings, tree-lined streets, and STUDENTS on foot and on bike…

But lurking silently beneath the wintry collegiate charm something else is present at Grey College: an air of barely fulfilled potential, of mere academic adequacy… the quiet, ever present grumbling that this college was everyone’s fourth-choice.
[/scrippet]
How do you film “everyone’s fourth-choice”? I guess the lesson for me was that when I’m breaking a script down to be shot, I need to pay special attention to passages like this one – so that I’m ready to explain to 100 people what “everyone’s fourth choice” actually looks like!

That said, I still wholeheartedly believe in using description like this in a script. As a writer, you need to make the script fun and readable. As a director, your job is to show it.

Another lesson I learned – mainly in editing – was that sometimes my scenes, as written, were on the long side. We did a lot of trimming scenes down to the bare essentials, which meant cutting many jokes and favorite lines!

I definitely will keep these lessons in mind as I write my next script.

SS: When can we expect a trailer for Tenure and when will it be hitting theaters?

MM: The latest release date I’ve heard is Fall or Winter of ’09.

SS: What other projects are you working on? Can you give us a tease?

MM: I’m writing an original comedy right now. I’ll let you review it when it’s done!

SS: So come on, when did you change your last name to Million? After college? Recently?

MM: It’s my real name – the one I was born with. I’ve always been Mike Million. And if I had a nickel for every bad “millionaire” joke I’ve heard in my life, I’d actually be one.

SS: And finally, Bigfoot has a nice little subplot in your script. Do you believe in Bigfoot?

MM: Let’s just say that I think the world is a MUCH more interesting place with people who believe in Bigfoot in it. And UFO’s. And the Loch Ness Monster.

Man, do I ever identify with that “Everybody’s fourth choice” response. Sheesh. Anyway, that concludes my interview with Mike Million. Very cool guy. I know I will be there front and center when Tenure comes out. If you want to learn more about Mike, you can check out the website for his production company, Third Story Films. There are some outtakes from the movie, some of Mike’s work in short films and commercials, as well as a little more info about Mike himself. Hope you guys got something out of this. I know I did. :)

Genre: Dark Comedy
Premise: An extremely depressed man finds a beaver puppet in the garbage. When he puts it on, his life takes a dramatic turn for the better. Or does it?
About: This was the number 1 script on the Blacklist in 2008, which means all the biggest readers in town loved it. Steve Carrel became interested shortly thereafter, attaching himself, but has since exited the project. It’s now rumored that Jim Carrey is interested, which would make this the 243rd project he’s attached to. So far, nobody has purchased The Beaver.
Writer: Kyle Killen

Welcome to The Scriptshadow Challenge – Second Installment. Hopefully you all read your Beaver script last week and are ready to comment on it here and at Go Into The Story. Below you’ll find my review and then Scott Myers’. Keeping with tradition, my review is about 1/8 the length of Scott’s. But that’s okay because, as usual, he gives great analysis. So consider this the appetizer and Scott’s the main course. Afterwards, leave your own reviews in the comments section and together we can determine why the script was so well-loved. Enjoy!

…

The Beaver is a pretty solid little script. It’s a thinly veiled (albeit dark) version of “Guy drinks magical potion. Life changes for the better.” What separates it from the rest of these types of films is that it’s not a comedy. Well, it is, but not really. It’s actually a serious look at how depression ruins families and how distraction and denial may work as temporary lifeboats from the disease, but sooner or later, you’re going to have to deal with the real issues.

The story follows our suicidal main character, Walter, whose depression is so bad that his family kicks him out of the house (way to help out Fam!). Walter finds a beaver sock puppet in the trash that, for shits and giggles, he slips on. As soon as he does, it starts talking…in a British accent. The puppet informs Walter that he’s here to save his life. From that point on, he relieves Walter of all talking duties. His goal? To put Walter’s life back together.

He starts with Walter’s toy company, where he begins restructuring the main toy line. He moves to the children, who at first seemed baffled that their dad is talking through a puppet, but eventually warm to it. He even brings the beaver into the bedroom to join him and his wife for a little sexy-time. Needless to say, she’s a little freaked out. Now you may be asking, “Why would a group of men follow orders from a British puppet? Why would a perfectly reasonable woman allow a puppet to be involved in her sex life?” The answer is because the beaver (er, I mean, Walter) is happy for the first time in as long as anyone can remember. And since everything is going so well, nobody wants to rock the boat…in case it falls on the dam. And that’s where the problems start. Once the beaver gets a taste of this power, he wants more of it. A lot more.

I congratulate The Beaver for working on many levels. Unfortunately, I don’t think I understand all of them. It’s unclear to me whether Walter is puppeting the beaver, or if the beaver’s a real live animal/thing with its own brain and body. I mean, of course he’s just puppeting it, but in the end, nobody can take the puppet off of him. It’s physically impossible to remove it. So has the beaver turned real? Was it real all along? Is Kyle Killen, the writer, laughing at me right now? Or is all this just a concoction of Walter’s demented depressed mind? I’m still not sure what the answer is.

Walter finally comes to the realization that a puppet is controlling his life, and decides to put an end to the beaver. Since he can’t pull it off, he cuts it off, along with his hand. With the puppet now dead (at least until the sequel) Walter can finally face the reality of his life and try to overcome his depression the right way.

If I were to note the highlights of the script, it would be two superb scenes, one in the middle and one towards the end, that give a very thoughtful and powerful assessment on how we humans live our lives. The first is the beaver in an interview with Matt Lauer (yes, Matt Lauer) and the other is Walter’s son’s graduation speech which we hear in voice over. It’s heartbreaking stuff about how our life is pretty much set and all we can really do is go along for the ride. Both speeches are so powerful and so dead-on that these moments alone make up for most of the script’s deficiencies.

The last thing I’ll say about the script is that it’s not the best script I read on The Black List, but it’s definitely the most memorable. And I think there’s a lesson here. 9 out of 10 writers would’ve explored this concept as a broad comedy. The fact that we’re essentially watching a drama about a guy who talks through a British beaver puppet distinguishes this script from every other script out there. So that even if you disliked the script, chances are you still remembered it. That’s why it got noticed.

Check this out. It’s worth a read.

Script link: The Beaver

[ ] trash
[ ] barely kept my interest
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: As I just stated, doing something different with your screenplay will set you apart from all the other writers pushing predictable crap into Hollywood. It’s a calculated risk though because you probably won’t sell the script through traditional channels. But, if it’s well-executed, like The Beaver, you can make it onto the Black List, which gives your script exposure, which in turn could attract talent and lead to a sale.

Now for Scott’s take:

“The Beaver” is an exceptional script, a dark comedy with a most unusual hook: One of the story’s primary characters is a hand puppet — “The Beaver” — who comes ‘alive’ and basically takes over the plot. It’s extremely well-written with interesting and sharply drawn characters, a nicely structured yet surprising plot, and the writer infuses the script with strong visuals, all of which helps to lift the story off the printed page and into one’s imagination. The script also has three big areas of concern in terms of the story — more on those later.

Here is some background on the screenplay:

Writer: Kyle Killen

News: The script topped The 2008 Black List”, the “most liked” unproduced script as determined by votes of 250 Hwood development execs.

Originally set up in November, 2008 with Steve Carell to star, now Jim Carrey and Jodie Foster are circling the project, Carrey as the lead and Foster to direct.

As far as I know, “The Beaver” is Killen’s first script sale.

MAIN CHARACTERS

Walter: A depressed middle-aged man who suddenly was forced to take over as CEO of a toy company, a job for which he was not suited, nearly driving the company into the ground. Husband and father of two sons.

Meredith: Walter’s stalwart, patient, and forgiving ‘soccer mom’ wife.

Porter: Walter’s cynical high school senior son who feels trapped by his father’s genetic and behavioral shadow (i.e., he will turn out like Walter).

Henry: Walter’s grade school son who leads a nearly invisible life among his peers, except when they’re bullying him.

Norah: Overachieving high school senior, Porter’s love interest.

The Beaver: An animal puppet with a “crisp English accent” who becomes Walter’s personal psychological therapist, lifestyle coach, inseparable companion, and increasingly Walter’s ‘voice.’

PLOT

Per the ten major plot points of Narrative Throughline, the plot breaks down as follows:

Act One

Opening (P. 1-4): Establish Walter, his job, his family, and his state of deep depression, setting up his ensuing suicide attempt.

The Hook (P. 13-15): The Beaver comes to ‘life’ and asserts, “I’m The Beaver, Walter. I’m here to save your goddamned life.”

The Lock (P. 29-33): After Walter introduces The Beaver to his family, there is a big meeting at Walter’s office, setting into motion the ticking clock (toy expo), and finalizing all the various subplots.

Act Two

First Big Test (P. 40-45): Montage showing the deconstruction of Walter’s life — from depressed, non-functioning human to vital, positive figure, but laced with an implicit threat: What’s going to happen with The Beaver?

Transition (P. 63-65): On Walter and Meredith’s 20th anniversary date, Walter breaks down when given a memory box filled with photos from his and his family’s past, ending with The Beaver’s assertion to Meredith, “He can’t go back… He’s not going back to that.”

Second Big Test (P. 74-75): Unable to free himself of The Beaver, Walter’s family leaves him.

All Is Lost (P. 92-93): With Walter retreating into his original depressed state and The Beaver increasingly the dominant personality of the two, Walter cuts off his puppet hand and buries The Beaver in a coffin.

Act Three

On the Defensive (P. 95-96): With his business and family life collapsing around him, and recovering with a prosthetic hand, Walter is sent to a psychiatric hospital.

On the Offensive (P. 96-99): Walter meets with Meredith and Henry, and it turns out Walter is doing better and could be ready to go home soon.

Final Struggle (P. 106-107): Walter and Porter meet at the hospital, and confront core emotional issues.

The Denouement: Walter returns home with his family, happily waving goodbye to Porter as Porter takes off on a road trip with Norah.

And therein lies one of the rubs: While Walter and The Beaver’s relationship creates the spine of the Plotline, for much of the script, it feels like Porter’s story.

So let me do a breakdown of the story’s character archetypes, one with Walter as the story’s Protagonist, another with Porter as the P.

CHARACTER ARCHETYPES

Protagonist: Walter

The story is framed throughout to be about Walter and his relationship with The Beaver. It’s his eventual goal — to be with his family — that leads him into his ultimate conflict with The Beaver. And yet, for much of the script — almost all of the second act — Walter’s character virtually disappears. The Beaver takes over so while Walter is present physically, he is rarely involved emotionally. It’s only when Walter makes the cut — literally — from The Beaver that Walter ends up in a unity state where each day is a work-in-progress, but there’s a clear sense that he is getting better.

Nemesis: The Beaver

If you think of all those Blank From Hell movies in the 80s and 90s, this script could be thought of as The Plush Doll From Hell. Starts out as Walter’s friend, then over time dominates their relationship, revealing itself to be the primary obstacle Walter needs to overcome in order to achieve his goal: Get back with his family.

Attractor: Meredith / Henry / Porter

In order of time spent and emotional depth — as far as Walter’s character is concerned — the Attractor characters are Meredith, then Henry, and finally Porter. But as we’ll see when looking at the story with Porter as the Protag, the script has many scenes and dynamics that suggest it’s at its heart a father-son story (this is underscored by the script’s penultimate scene — the rapprochment between Porter and Walter). And yet, of all the primary characters, Walter spends the least amount of time with Porter. So in actuality, the father-son story is almost exclusively approached via Porter and his POV.

Mentor: Walter’s memories of his family

Throughout most of the script, The Beaver wears a Mentor’s mask, providing advice, encouraging Walter, and eventually taking charge of all Walter’s decision-making. So I suppose you could argue that The Beaver takes on the role of Dark Wisdom. But what ‘saves’ Walter in the end is when he reconnects with his family, spurred by the breakthrough when he sorts through all the photos Meredith has provided for him with his Memory Box.

Trickster: Walter’s depression

Clearly it provides one enormous test after another for Walter, almost causing himself to commit suicide as the story begins. Once The Beaver takes over, he manages to manipulate Walter out of his depressed state — seemingly — but eventually the depression returns. And in a twist befitting a Trickster, it’s that return that causes the final emotional cleavage between Walter and The Beaver, leading to Walter sawing off his puppet hand.

Now let’s look at the character archetypes with Porter as the Protag:

Protagonist: Porter

Of all the characters in the movie, no one deals more in depth and directly with their own emotional issues than Porter. In his relationships with his family, with Nora, and several scenes alone with himself, in a very real way, Porter confronts who Walter is even more than Walter does. Yes, Walter tries to commit suicide, but after The Beaver appears, Walter essentially flips a switch for the duration of Act One and much of Act Two. It’s Porter, who may know Walter’s behavioral quirks even better than Walter himself, who confronts again and again his own personal issues.

Nemesis: Walter

Walter = Curse as far as Porter is concerned. Walter is a deadly combination of repugnant habits and bad DNA, driving Porter to obsess if he will turn out to be like his father. It’s only after Walter has gone through his own catharsis and made the separation from The Beaver, achieving some version of a unity state, where Porter is able to approach his father as a peer and not the enemy.

Attractor: Norah

To me, this is almost the most interesting relationship in the script. Two young people, both of whom labor under long, dark psychological shadows — Porter and the legacy of his father, Norah and the legacy of her brother. Their conflict and discourse is pointed and smart, and there’s a continual flip-flop from one to the other about who is in the ‘power position,’ who is in the right, who knows what they’re talking about that makes this subplot quite interesting.

Mentor: Porter the Writer

Porter is a smart kid and he uses his way with words for his own financial benefit by ghost-writing papers and essays for his classmates. It’s his writer self that precipitates his intersection with Norah. It’s his commitment to ghost-writing her commencement speech that allows the couple to get to know each other. And in what seems like a negative experience, it’s his writing that gets him into trouble (the essay he wrote for Hector), kicked out of school, and rejected Brown University. But in the end, it turns out Porter needed to get knocked off that path (just like Norah requires a break from going straight to Stanford). However the most important moment where Porter’s writer self provides wisdom is when Norah tells him that the commencement address he wrote was not about her, it is actually about Porter. And in reading his own words, Porter comes to a place where he can finally go to meet his father one-on-one.

Trickster: The Beaver

On the one hand, The Beaver turns around Walter’s depression, seemingly a good thing for Porter. But then The Beaver’s continuing presence in the family’s life simply accentuates Porter’s concern about becoming like his father — it makes Walter even weirder.

AREAS OF CONCERN

Now let me say again, I enjoyed this script. I think it will make an interesting movie. But if I was one of the filmmakers involved in this project, I would have some concerns about how it works — or doesn’t work — as a story.

1. Walter’s disappearance: As noted, during much of Act Two, Walter’s character — while present physically — disappears as an active persona for a long stretch of time. In many scenes Walter exists as a prop to transport The Beaver around, provide a platform from which The Beaver can pontificate. And one of the classic concerns in screenwriting is not to create a passive Protagonist — but for much of the movie, that’s precisely what Walter is. Now I think that’s precisely the point the writer is making with Walter’s character, moving from depressed state to what turns out to be a fake state of wellness, back to depression, then resentment toward The Beaver, the separation from The Beaver, and the eventual move into genuine wellness and toward wholeness — he starts off passive, then becomes active. And in theory, I don’t have a problem with that. For example, in the movie Being There, the Protagonist Chance (Peter Sellers) is led about throughout the entire story, the joke being that other people actively interpret Chance’s simplistic gibberish as incredible wisdom. But The Beaver isn’t that kind of story. Besides there is supposedly at the core of this script a subplot that — at least in my view — is not fully realized because of Walter’s ‘disappearance’: The father-son story.

2. At its heart, this is a father-and-son story, but one told almost exclusively through the perspective of the son. In fact, for nearly all of the second act, Walter and Porter rarely interact. The writer goes to extra lengths to address that, intercut scenes, split-screen scenes, visual to visual transitions that put the two characters ‘side-by-side,’ but there are only a handful of actual moments where the two characters intersect. An odd way to approach this subplot, especially since the emotional apex of the script is the final meeting between Walter and Porter, however since the two have rarely interacted, the impact is less than it could be. What we carry into that exchange is the specific perspective of Porter who has obsessed throughout about his father’s shadow and a rather generic sense of what Porter, and indeed his whole family means to Walter. Both of those go right back to the previous point — how Walter disappears in Act Two.

3. Finally, going back to an earlier point, even though the Plotline is defined by the relationship between Walter and The Beaver, I found myself constantly pulled toward the emotional plot of Porter’s story. Again this is exacerbated by Walter’s ‘disappearance’ as a character for much of the script. You could try to draw a parallel between this script and American Beauty — actually I think there are many parallels (e.g., drama-comedy, satire on suburban American living, dysfunctional family, father going through a mid-life crisis) — where Walter, like Lester, create the spine for the Plotline and a major subplot is provided by the romance story between flawed teenagers (i.e., Porter & Norah / Ricky & Jane). But Ricky & Jane in American Beauty is truly a subplot, secondary in the amount of time and emotional heft compared to the various subplots Lester is involved in, whereas the Porter & Norah story seems to even transcend the Walter & The Beaver relationship, especially in terms of emotional resonance (at least for me).

That said, I’m not sure these concerns are enough to undercut the power of this script as it gets transformed into a movie. The characters are so richly drawn, the dialogue so smart, the humor biting, the drama compelling and at times even profound. Plus, the script traffics in several interesting thematic elements:

* Identity: Who are you really? That question seems to be the subtext of much of what happens in the script. It’s most prominent with Walter and The Beaver, our attention bobbing back and forth from one to the other, trying to determine who is really behind what’s happening. But also Porter in grappling with his destiny (per his father’s dark shadow over him), Norah shifting gears in her path in response to her brother’s sudden death, Henry who moves from an almost invisible entity to a woodworking machine, Meredith whose soccer mom identity is challenged by living with a puppet wearing freak. So in sum after we read FADE OUT, the lingering question becomes one directed at the reader: Who are you?

* Legacy: Can Walter overcome his depression? Can Porter overcome his father’s dark shadow? Can Norah overcome the dark shadow of her brother’s death? Those legacy issues permeate each of these characters’ storylines.

* Box: And for me, this is the most interesting thematic element in the script — the idea of a box. There are boxes in evidence throughout the script: Boxes when Walter moves out, memory boxes that Henry builds, boxes when Meredith and the boys move out of the house, the box (coffin) Walter builds for The Beaver. But then there are more figurative boxes: How The Beaver boxes in Walter as The Beaver step-by-step takes over Walter’s life, the side-by-side boxes of Norah and her brother’s bedrooms, the box of Porter’s bedroom, one wall of which Porter pound his head in an effort to escape. A lot of times when you read a script, you don’t know if the writer was conscious of a theme or recurring set of images or not — they could have arisen from the writer’s unconscious. But I’ve got to believe that the writer knew that he was onto something with these recurring images of boxes.

SUMMARY

I can see why Hwood readers liked the script so much. It’s a great read — clean pages, smart transitions, a nice narrative pull, several surprises in the plot, mature take on the material, and of course a compelling concept at its core. I can also see why no major studio made an offer on the script because of a core question: Will this concept fly with audiences? Even if Jim Carrey stars in the movie, might the buzz be, “Oh, no, it’s another one of his weird movies, not a really funny one,” and in the past, we’ve seen some of those movies tank at the box office. And despite the story’s American Beauty feel to it — a drama-comedy about American suburban life with satirical overtones — there is some distance between the subject matter and the emotional world created because of The Beaver. As it stands in the way between all the story’s characters and Walter, so too with the reader.

But this is a movie that deserves to get produced. I’m not sure if the script will get rewritten to address any of the concerns I pointed out (or others), but in a way, I’d be curious to see it get shot the way it’s written. I’d like to see if it works as is.

Genre: Thriller
Premise: A college Freshman’s roommate becomes dangerously obsessed with her.
About: Mallhi is an executive vice president at Vertigo. He went out with the screenplay under a pseudonym so it would be given fair consideration in the marketplace. It wasn’t until after Screen Gems made an offer on “Roommate” that Mallhi revealed that he wrote the spec. Mallhi exec produced “The Strangers” for Vertigo (Daily Variety). “Roommate” marks Mallhi’s first screenplay sale. It is now in production. Gossip Girl cast member Leighton Meester is attached and an unknown director from Denmark, Christian Christensen, is directing.
Writer: Sonny Mallhi

Okay okay, so I kinda cheated. I promised you guys I’d review a horror script. I poured and poured over the choices but I just couldn’t do it. I would open the script, read a few words, and think: 120 pages of this?? There’s no way. So I decided on a compromise. The Roommate is sort of a horror script. Or, at least, it appeals to the same people who like horror. Doesn’t it?

The idea for The Roommate is very “Single White Female” – a solid flick from the 90s that was just under the radar enough that no one remembers it. Which is good for Mallhi because that meant he had no competetion for the idea. He obviously figured, “All I have to do is take this great concept and transfer it to a college setting, where the girls are younger and hotter.” Uhh, can anyone say genius??

I love a good psychological thriller and The Roommate psychologicalizes and thrills right from the beginning. When I finished it and researched to see what was going on with the project, it came as no surprise that it was already in production. 9 out of 10 purchased scripts never make it to the big screen. But as soon as I put this down I knew it was ready to be shot tomorrow (and it was – literally).

Sara is a college freshman who’s a bit more self-assured than most college coeds. We catch her on the day she’s moving in. She makes a few friends on the floor and meets a cute drummer in a local band, Stephen. After what can only be described as a perfect first day of college, Sara comes home to find…Rebecca. Just sitting there. Staring. You know what kind of stare I’m talking about too. The kind that says psych-ooooo. But naive Sara, eager to make friends, ignores the creepines, and introduces herself. Rebecca, even though she’s a knockout, seems to be surprised by the attention, and rewards Sara……by watching her sleep all night.

Friday Night Lights alum will play Sara

The next day, Sara introduces her obnoxious floor friends to Rebecca. One of the great things about Mallhi’s script is his subtle dark humor, which is on full display in this scene…
[scrippet]
Sara waves her over and only then, does Rebecca walk over.

SARA (CONT’D)
Tracy. Kim. This is my roommate Rebecca.

REBECCA
(small wave)
Hi.

TRACY
RRRRRREBECCA. Your name’s sort of a mouthful. What can we call you?

KIM
I like Reba.

Tracy sticks her finger down her throat, makes gagging sounds.

SARA
I like Becca.

TRACY
(shakes her head)
How about Becky?

SARA
Becky’s good.

They simultaneously turn to Rebecca for approval.

REBECCA
I like Rebecca.

Buzzkill.

TRACY
OOOKAAAY.

SARA
(to Rebecca)
We better take these books back to the room.

Without saying goodbye. Rebecca leaves. Sara gives Tracy and Kim a look. Shrugs her shoulders.
[/scrippet]
To get a full idea of just how creepy Rebecca is, you have to read the script. But for another taste, here’s a scene where Sara and Rebecca are getting ready for a party…

[scrippet]
They both look in the mirror. Rebecca smiles.

SARA (CONT’D)
Wait a sec. I also have some cool earrings that will go with this.

Sara grabs a pair of small, gold hoop earrings from her dresser. She places them in Rebecca’s hand.

SARA (CONT’D)
Lemme go take a shower. I’ll be just a second.

She grabs her stuff and rushes out the door leaving Rebecca standing there. Earrings in her palm. She turns towards the full length mirror behind the door. As she leans into the mirror, we see her ears aren’t pierced.

Nevertheless, she takes one of the earrings and touches the pin against the skin of her right lobe. After a moment of hesitation. She pushes the pin in hard. A small pop. She flinches slightly.

Blood trickling down her ear, onto her neck. She wipes it off with her thumb and places the other hoop to her left ear.
[/scrippet]

Leighton Meester will play the creepy Rebecca

Genre: Drama
Premise: A father who is recovering from the death of his wife takes his daughter on a trip to experience the Seven Wonders of the World
About: This original spec sold a couple of years back, I believe for mid-six figures. It will be directed by the writer and produced by Marvin Acuna (The Great Buck Howard).
Writer: Timothy Scott Bogart

The Year of Wonders would make a great journal. The Year of Wonders might make a good videologue. But the Year of Wonders is not a great screenplay. Nor will it make a great movie. In essence, it’s two people hopping around the world talking about someone who just died. There’s nothing present about the story. The focus is on the past. So even though we’re traveling the world, we never really feel like we’re there.

I remember this selling a couple of years ago and thinking it was a neat idea. Being in the presence of the seven most amazing structures/natural wonders on the planet would be the ultimate life-changing experience. The irony is that there’s no sense of that wonder in the script. It focuses more on the pain that the two characters are enduring, specifically the dad, and does so in a very heavy-handed manner. For example, these are the first words out of Lou’s (the daughter) mouth…
[scrippet]
LOU’S VOICE
Do we choose the lives we live?
(silence, then really thinking about it, before…)
Or do you think we end up living the lives we’ve chosen?
[/scrippet]
I don’t know about you but I have no idea what that means. The script follows teenage daughter Lou, and her doctor father, Joel, after Maxine, Joel’s wife, dies of cancer. When a messenger delivers a videotape a few days later, it turns out to be Maxine, from the grave, telling her husband and daughter that they’re going on a trip. It will be spontaneous, it’ll be fun, and it’ll be right now. The plane tickets have already been purchased.

Turns out that crafty Maxine was putting together a little video collection on the sly – an international scavenger hunt which focuses on the seven wonders of the world. I can hear the collective groan from cyberspace – and it’s deserved. Whether Timothy wrote this before they came out, or just hasn’t watched a lot of movies and/or TV – the whole “from the grave scavenger hunt” thing has been done to death, most recently in the Hilary Swank Romantic Comedy “P.S. I Love You” which almost single-handedly made me quit movies. So in addition to the other problems I mentioned, the script feels unoriginal as well.

So they go from country to country, getting new videotapes from Maxine along the way, following directions, all while Lou channels her inner Gray’s Anatomy, giving poignant voice over. Again, there’s nothing active happening. It’s all reflection. It’s all following directions and instructions making our two main characters feel like puppets in a show. Drama, conflict, twists and turns. You’re not going to find that here.

The one chance the script had to redeem itself was in the relationship between Lou and her father, which we’re meant to believe is troubled. The problem is there’s nothing in the first act that informs us of this. We only find out it’s “troubled” when we’re told it is in a Lou voice over late in the second act. I’m not going to care about two people fixing a relationship that I never knew was broken.

Here’s a fairly common scene from the script…

[scrippet]
EXT. ITALIAN HOTEL – ROOFTOP – NIGHT

Joel and Lou sit on the roof. All of Rome before them, as –

LOU
Why didn’t he tell me? Why did he lie? I didn’t even really like him.
(then, so honestly -)
So, why does it hurt so much?

JOEL
Because it’s supposed to. And you’re supposed to let it.

Joel reaches out and gently brushes the tears from off her cheeks, but now there’s no stopping them, as –

LOU
I miss her so much, dad. I miss her every second. She’s supposed to tell me what to do.

This just devastates him –

JOEL
I know.

LOU
Who’s going to teach me everything? Who’s going to show me – how to be a woman? How – to get married? How – to hold my babies? It’s not fair.

JOEL
I know.

Joel reaches for her and pulls her towards him –

LOU
I can’t breathe…

JOEL
Yes, you can. Yes, you can.

And as she continues to cry in his arms, Joel is finally the support she needs. Strong. Loving. Embracing. Her father.
[/scrippet]
And it hurts to write this because Timothy is clearly telling the story from a place of honesty and possibly real-life experience. It’s not easy to bear your pain in a screenplay. But it can’t *just* be emotion. You have to tell a story. And the story in The Year Of Wonders isn’t compelling enough.

[ ] trash
[x] barely kept my interest
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: The first act is where you set up your story. One of the most important places to focus your attention is the relationships between the characters. If there’s a specific issue between two characters, you have to give us at least one scene that clarifies it. Many writers are hesitant to bring too much attention to these problems for fear of “hitting the audience over the head.” But if you’re too subtle, the transformation the characters/relationships go through later on in the script won’t carry enough weight.

It’s Tuesday which means it’s time for another horror review. Another horror review that I won’t be giving. But I’ve left you in good hands. Jonny Atlas knows his shit. As he points out in his review, he’s a Rules Nazi, and I’ve been the recipient of some of his analysis before. It’s not pretty. But while he can be harsh, he always has good advice. Here is his review of Parasite.

Genre: Horror
Premise: When the crew of an underwater research station discovers a new parasite that turns its host homicidal they have to defend themselves against the surrounding sea life and their infected crew mates in order to stay alive.
About: This horror script was making the rounds not long ago and got some pretty good heat. Ultimately, it failed to sell. It’s good to read these “almost” sales every once in awhile so you can study what separates a sale from a non-sale. Kristy sold. This did not. Why?
Writer: Ehud Lavski

When Carson asked me to review this script, I asked him what it was about. He responded, “I don’t know but Tarson says it’s good. I think you should read it.” A fine endorsement if ever I’ve heard one. I found the logline on trackingb, and I have to say the premise really intrigued me. It’s a fresh take on the late 80s/early 90s underwater thriller formula.

The script opens on plankton, which get eaten by a striped bass in a fisherman’s trap. Halfway through the first page we meet our antagonistic force: THE PARASITE! Our gluttonous bass chomps down on the parasite and spits it back out. Too bad the parasite has other plans. It uses it’s tentacles to force-feed itself to the bass. We then see the other fish in the trap huddled in the far corner, “crazed with fear”.

I like scripts that open with a bang. This certainly opened with a pop, but I don’t know that I really felt a bang. The sequence was creepy and the parasite was pretty damn cool, but it ends too soon. We don’t get to see what the parasite does, other than force fish to eat it. In my opinion, this is a huge wasted opportunity on Lavski’s part. He says it’s “the parasite”, but I was hoping to see this thing as bad news straight out of the box. I wanted Lavski to give me something I should be afraid of. He let me down.

From there, the script turns to shit for a good 24 pages.

Let me rephrase that. It turns into a shitty horror script for the next 24 pages. The stuff that happens on pages 2 through 25 isn’t drek. In fact, it’s pretty well written. Unfortunately it doesn’t belong in a horror script. Lavski gives us 24 pages of pure character development. I shit you not. There is only one mention of the impending parasite threat on page 6, where a herring beats another fish to death by repeatedly swimming into it. After that, nothing until page 26.

We meet Jane and Doc. Jane’s cramped in a small exploration sub, and Doc is her connection to the underwater station. They do their job, with a chunks of exposition thrown in for good measure. Their first interaction is a great example:

[scrippet]
Doc wears a pair of HEADPHONES. She stares at a beat-up family photo. Doc hugging her husband and kids.

JANE (O.S.)
(Coming from headphones)
Staring at the picture again?

Doc laughs, busted.

INTERCUT JANE/DOC

DOC
How could you tell?

JANE
I can hear you ovulating from down here.

DOC
You holding up OK?

JANE
Ask me when I’m out of the coffin.

DOC
Claustrophobia’s acting up?

JANE
What do you think?

DOC
From one to ten?

JANE
Beansprout.
[/scrippet]
Reading this, I felt like I was getting beat over the head with the information hammer. It’s written with skill (“I can hear you ovulating from down here”), but it is one massive exposition dump. Doc has a family, wants more kids, been away for a long time. Doc and Jane are good friends. Jane has claustrophobia. Bla bla bla.

I’m sure some would argue that it’s a good use of a few lines of dialog and action to dump info on the reader. If it were really that good Lavski could spare us the next two pages. You see, Jane has Doc sing her a lullaby as she collects samples in her tiny sub for two fucking pages.

Is Jane’s proficiency with the mechanical arm on the sub important to the plot? Yes. Do we need two pages to establish it? Fuck no.

Right here, I already had a few huge problems.

Problem 1: Why the fuck would a claustrophobic person (whose claustrophobia is a pretty big plot point) sign up to work in an UNDERWATER RESEARCH FACILITY? More importantly, why the fuck would they agree to get in a miniature submarine with “barely enough space to move”? Sorry, I don’t buy it.

Problem 2: Why have some random “infected” fish attack another random fish on page 6, when you could have the striped bass from page 1 attack the other fish at the bottom of page 1? Seriously, it’s a waste of an opportunity. More importantly, there’s a huge disconnect because we never see random fish #2 get infected. We have to draw the conclusion on our own. Why risk the chance of losing your audience?

Anyway, after the shit with the fish, this guy Curtis persuades Doc to let him talk to Jane “alone”. We get the vibe he and Jane had a thing before he screwed it up somehow. Doc agrees and leaves the room, which leaves psycho-ass Curtis free to try and kill Jane. Why? Because he and Jane were dating until Jane started fucking the Captain.

You read that right. Jane’s best friend on the ship just left the guy Jane fucked over (who is apparently known for having an anger problem) alone in the room with her sub’s remote controls. That’s two problems in one. A) Doc is either a moron (doubtful since she’s a mom and a fucking DOCTOR) or she doesn’t give a shit about her friend, and B) our claustrophobic protagonist is cramped in a tiny sub when the fucking thing has a remote control station! Seriously, what the fuck?

I’m gonna stop harping on details now because if I don’t I’ll be here all fucking night. Seriously, the minor plot holes and glaring errors regarding science and plausibility made me want to bash my head against a wall. Moving on.

So Curtis tries to kill Jane for eleven pages and the mighty Captain Matt comes to the rescue. Once again, it was well written. There was definitely some suspense here. Really though, eleven pages? So not necessary. Then there’s six pages of aftermath from the attempted murder, which puts the sequence at seventeen pages.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about deep characters. However, it is the job of the screenwriter to weave character development into the unraveling of your premise’s plot. Throughout this script (and especially in the first act), Lavski does one or the other. Consequently, the real story doesn’t start until page 26.

On page 26, Doc pulls in the fisherman’s trap from page 1 (like the audience is going to remember that shit after 25 pages of character drama), bringing the parasite onto the ship.
Yeah. The inciting incident doesn’t happen until page 26. But hey, that means we’re gonna get to the good stuff now, right?

Wrong.

More character drama. In fact, there’s eight more pages of characters blabbering until Curtis eats the parasite on page 34. Then they talk for another five pages before more shit starts to happen. I wouldn’t mind the five pages if I hadn’t already read a whopping thirty-two pages of plotless character exposition.

On page 40, crazy shit starts happening. On page 41 we finally make it to the second act when the crew discovers the parasite in a fish. Mind you, it’s in a fish. Curtis is still MIA.
On page 50, they realize Doc has a parasite in her brain. Page 53, someone has their first run-in with parasite-controlled Curtis. It’s not until this point that there’s any palpable suspense from the antagonistic force (the parasite).

You’re probably wondering why I’m harping on page count so much. It’s not because I’m a rule nazi, I promise. Take a look at the script’s logline: “When the crew of an underwater research station discovers a new parasite that turns its host homicidal they have to defend themselves against the surrounding sea life and their infected crew mates in order to stay alive.”

None of that shit starts to happen until page 41. Hell, they don’t even face an infected crewmember until page 53! That’s practically the fucking midpoint.

Basically, you wind up with a script that promises to be like DeepStar Six but starts out like The Abyss (don’t get me wrong – The Abyss is by far a superior film; DeepStar Six is just a more action-packed horror flick). Actually, This script starts out like a tortoise in a marathon. Too bad slow and steady doesn’t win the fucking race. It just puts me to sleep.

Speaking of DeepStar Six, Parasite’s story actually follows its formula pretty fucking rigidly. All the beats are there, down to the slightly crazy crewmember whose personal beef with crewmember X motivates him to kill, which leads to a fistfight between him and crewmember Y. If only this script followed DS6’s lead and put the characters in danger at the beginning of the script instead of the middle…

For the rest of the script, it’s pretty nonstop. There’s a lot of crazy shit – giant crabs, parasite-controlled sharks, kamikaze dolphins… some really cool (and sometimes silly) stuff. There are still a ton of errors in the story (as mentioned earlier), but the second half of the script is a fun ride nonetheless. I really wish the whole script was like the last 61 pages. Unfortunately, that’s not the case.

[ ] trash
[x] barely kept my interest
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: As important as character development is in a script, you must integrate it with your plot. Otherwise you wind up with a schism between character and plot that no amount of flowery prose can mend. Find creative ways to reveal your characters through the action of your forward-moving storyline. If you don’t, your story will get lost in the incessant blabbering of your characters and your first act will be over forty pages.

I also found Parasite to be further evidence that writing eloquently and knowing how to tell a great story do not always come pre-packaged together. If you don’t have both abilities naturally, it takes time and effort to develop the skills necessary to execute a great script. Don’t shortchange yourself by hoping the good will outweigh the bad.

If you want to read more from Jonny, check out his blog here: Jonny Atlas Writes

A final word here. Jonny brings up a great point in his “What I learned” section. Character development is extremely important to your script. But you have to do it on the move. You have to hide it inside actions and sneak it into dialogue. You can’t set apart large chunks of your screenplay just to develop characters or you’re going to put the reader to sleep. Keep the story moving. I saw that this was 114 pages. Most horror scripts are closer to 100 pages because the writer knows they gotta keep the story moving. It sounds like that could’ve helped here.