As many of you know, I love Source Code. I just love it. I think it’s one of best (if not the best) executed Sci-Fi scripts I’ve ever read. I often toy with the idea of placing it number 1 on my Favorites List, and why wouldn’t I? It finished number 1 on the readers faves, getting nearly double the votes of the next highest script. People love this script.

Late last year, Ben Ripley got the news that every writer dreams of, that his spec script, a story he and he alone came up with, was getting a green light, with Jake Gyllenhaal attached to star and Duncan Jones to direct. After finally seeing Moon a couple of weeks ago, I can honestly say this is a dream match-up. If you can suffer through one of my early reviews on the site, I talked about this script roughly a year ago today. It’s more a reaction than a review, but it gives you a sense of why I was so impressed with it. Well, a year later and I finally got to chat with the writer himself. Ben Ripley is repped by Bayard Maybank at Hohman Maybank Lieb, and managed by Michael Lasker at Mosaic.

Gyllenhaal will be starring in Source Code.

SS: Can you tell us how you got into writing, and bring us up to speed on your career before you sold Source Code?

BR: Like a lot of people, I had, from an early age, a love for movies and a curiosity to know how they were made. As I went through school, I noticed writing came somewhat easily to me, so a screenwriting career eventually made sense as a way to pursuing filmmaking while building on that strength. I was an English major in college and then received my formal training in the graduate screening program at USC film school. While film school is not a prerequisite for working in Hollywood, it does break down all the major components of the process and allow hands on practice of each discipline – editing, production, acting and writing. You also learn how to roll coaxial cable into perfect coils.

Even with an advanced degree, there is still no set path for getting into the industry. You have to fend for yourself and search for any way in you can find. I worked as an assistant at a production company and at a post production house, in addition to a few years outside of the industry as a grant writer for a non-profit foundation. There were plenty of opportunities to give up on screenwriting, to try something else, but I kept writing scripts, and those scripts eventually found their way into hands of a literary agency who offered to represent me. It still took four more years, and perhaps five or six additional scripts, before the first one sold to Fox. It was a horror film, it never got made, but it got me in and got me assignment work for the next several years. During that time I had three direct-to-DVD movies made. That kind of work is completely off the cultural radar, but it did teach me a lot about how to write for production.

SS: How did the sale for Source Code come about? How did the script becoming a go picture come about?

BR: Mark Gordon, the producer, became involved with the project while I was writing it on spec. At the time we went out with it, Topher Grace was attached to play the lead role, and I think an actor attachment always helps create buzz. Topher and Mark personally spoke with all the studios to lay the groundwork, and a few days after it went out we had more than one offer and interest just kept building. As a writer, it was one of those fairy tale moments – but also nerve wracking. In the end, Mark felt most comfortable with the script going to Universal. Incidentally, the Universal VP who brought the project into the studio was Scott Bernstein, with whom I had actually discussed the idea for Source Code a year before. So Scott was already familiar with the story and enthusiastic about it.

Source Code always had momentum. The studio went immediately to directors. There was zero development hell. What that taught me, at least in terms of spec scripts, is that the stronger you make it when it sells, the less creative interference will come afterwards. The script started to become a go movie after Billy Ray did a few weeks of targeted work bringing out a few more aspects of my script. Off that we got the attachments of Duncan Jones to direct and Jake Gyllenhaal to star. The final piece was Mark Gordon moving the project over to a new financing company called Vendome, which was passionate about making Source Code its first movie, with Summit distributing.

3) Why did you write Source Code? Did you write it because it was a great idea you had? Did you write it because you thought its specific elements gave it the best chance to sell? How did this script come to be?

BR: I wrote Source Code because I was discouraged with the work I was then getting. In the four years between the sale of my first spec and that of Source Code, I was mostly doing rewrites on other people’s horror scripts. I’d put a lot of effort into them, I’d get paid, and then the scripts would just sit there. I felt I had more to say creatively, and the great thing about being a writer in Hollywood, the source of our power, is the ability to generate new material.

Source Code was an immensely difficult script for me to write. All I had at the beginning was the impulse to tell a non-linear story with a structure like Groundhog Day, where you experienced the same event repeatedly. I asked myself if there was a science fiction conceit that would be the occasion for the narrative, and before long I had the setting on the train and the idea that source code would be used as a tool in a terrorism procedural.

From that point to the finished script was still many, many drafts and a lot of trial and error. Three people were instrumental in helping me shape it: Michael Lasker, my manager, and two guys at the Mark Gordon Company, Lawrence Inglee and Jordan Wynn. All of them believed in the potential of the film and were excited enough to roll up their sleeves and work with me to figure it out. They pushed me pretty hard to elevate the material, to think of it more as a character mystery than a conventional thriller, to subtract out much of the science and leave the mysteries intact. Without that kind of dynamic back and forth with collaborators who saw what it could be and kept at me until it was on the page, Source Code could not have been written. And by the way, as a writer, you want to partner with people who are as excited as you are – people who like movies, enjoy the creative process and see possibilities more than they see problems.

SS: What was the most important element (or elements) you focused on getting right in the script (character, theme, plot, etc.)? And how did you go about achieving it (them)?

BR: Everything was important. The narrative had to flow. The main character’s dilemma – moving from confusion to a slow awakening to just how awful his situation really was – had to be the reader’s experience as well. The technology had to feel mysterious. It had to end correctly. But the most important thing, I think, was ultimately the structure. I was in the third or fourth draft when I realized that this story only needed to have two settings – the train and the isolation chamber. And if you started the guy on the train, in some degree of confusion, and you slammed him back and forth between the two worlds, that was the movie. That binary structure was key: it simplified the noise, kept the narrative moving, gave the reader the identical experience as the main character’s and differentiated the script from the other stuff out there. Its very simplicity became its high concept. None of that was planned from the beginning – none of it was outlined. It all had to come during the process of discovery in the writing.

SS: Did you know Source Code was going to click with people? Were you sitting there going, “This one feels good,” as you were writing it? Or was it a total surprise?

BR: Six months before we went out with it, the Mark Gordon people knew it was going to sell. I was way too skittish to go around saying or believing that myself, but we all had a feeling the script could be something special. I should also point out that we didn’t stop with a draft that would sell. No one aspires anymore to just a development deal. We kept pushing to until I had a draft that would be made. There’s a difference, and with a spec script, you have the luxury of incubating it until it’s as strong as you think you can make it. Although I’ve written several scripts since Source Code that, to me, felt pretty strong, Source Code remains the most popular with people.

SS: Can you tell us a little bit about your writing process? Do you outline? Do you write fast? How many drafts do you write? Etc.

BR: Being a parent, my hours are more regimented than they used to be. I don’t write during the evenings or on weekends – I’m busy living my life then. I’ve always found that time away from material is just as valuable as time spent on material – it helps you maintain freshness and perspective. With the ease of communication and the ubiquity of laptops and email, there’s often an assumption that we’re always working, always available. But this kind of over exposure can lead to belabored and insular decision-making. Writing is part of my life, but only part.

Once I have an idea that I think works, my first step is to take pages and pages of notes, whatever comes into my head. Research is important. You need to steep yourself in whatever subculture you’re writing about, enough so that you develop a confidence to invent within it. Next I try to come up with some compelling central characters. This is always the hardest part for me to get right, but it’s a critical one. If your characters aren’t distinct, comprehensible and somewhat relatable, you’ll never hear the end of it from your readers. And it’s really about the hard work of understanding who these characters are and what makes them interesting. I’m not much attracted to Everyman characters. I’m more intrigued with mysterious, unusual or even extraordinary characters. If you look at Stanley Kubrick’s films, most of his characters are compelling for who they are. They’re not ordinary people who depend on a movie situation to come alive in. The outline comes next, but I don’t get overly detailed with it. I like to leave some open spaces for discovery. Only when you get in there writing scenes, writing description and dialogue, will the best things about your script occur to you. That said, I absolutely know what my three acts and midpoint are, even if they sometimes shift around during the writing. The more I write, the fewer pages per day I turn out. I wish I wrote faster, but I tend to consider pretty carefully each moment. I take my time with the language until it feels right. I never gloss over stuff. After that, I always go back and find material to remove. You can always say things with greater efficiency, always trim and tighten action. You look at any good film and you realize just how economical and propulsive the scenes are, especially in the first act as they work to set up the world. You can never get too good at that skill.

SS: It sounds like the midpoint is important to you. Could you explain what it is?

BR: A midpoint is a plot turn that happens in the middle of a movie. The midpoint in Jaws is when Roy Scheider, Robert Shaw and Richard Dreyfuss pile into the fishing boat and head out to the open ocean to hunt the shark. The midpoint of the original Star Wars is when the Millenium Falcon reaches the Death Star in order to rescue the princess. It’s the point to which the action of the first half of the story is ending and, as a result, sends the second half of the story in a new – or at least more focused – direction. A good midpoint turn will differentiate the action between the first and second half of the movie and keep things from seeming monotonous. The post-midpoint portion of the second act (pages 60-90) is often where you get much closer to the story’s real themes and you’re not as much focused on straightforward action.

SS: A lot of people write sci-fi, but I find it’s one of the easiest genres to screw up. Can you tell us what you think the key is to writing a good sci-fi script?

BR: Put character first. Don’t let the technology take over the story. Center your narrative on an emotional experience and let the science part of it be the ambience. None of the characters in your script should be aware that they’re in a science fiction film. It should be all utterly real to them.

SS: What is the biggest adjustment for a writer once they sell a script? What advice would you give a writer who just sold his first screenplay?

BR: The lifestyle of a full time writer is obviously different from a writer needing a day job to support him or herself. Once you make that first sale, a lot of producers and executives will want to meet you. You’re no longer creating in isolation – you’re part of the Hollywood community. You’re the flavor of the month. People will want to sit down with you and hear your ideas on new projects. Potential work will start coming your way. You need to be comfortable considering and developing multiple story ideas, with multiple partners, and try to push forward on them in order to book that next job. That means getting comfortable pitching in conference rooms, being proactive, coming up with new material and realizing that most of what you work on will not succeed. But that’s just the churn that everyone works in.

SS: What are some surprising things you’ve learned from your manager or agent about screenwriting that you would’ve never been privy to otherwise?

BR: I’ve learned tons from my representatives – way too much to relate here. At least once a year I make a point of sitting down with my agent over lunch. I ask questions and we assess my progress. The key is finding an agent who wants to invest their time in you, who believes in you and who’s interested in cultivating you for a 30 year career.

SS: It’s a question I ask a lot, but I think it’s a pertinent one. If you could go back in time and give the young wet-behind-the-ears Ben Ripley advice on the fastest way to finding success as a screenwriter, what would you tell him?

BR: I would tell him to keep faith, that it’s all going to be okay. I would tell him that the reason I’m a screenwriter today is that I believed in my talent and made the sustained sacrifices to become one. I eschewed other career paths. I worked day jobs to support myself. I wrote on weekends when maybe I would have had more fun at the beach. I started and finished scripts and then started new ones that were better. I kept at it. There are no shortcuts. The dues-paying process can be bewildering and lonely, but its job is to separate out the professionals from the merely curious, and when it’s over, you’re oddly thankful for having asked a lot of yourself.

SS: Whenever I ask professional writers, “How do you get an agent?” they always say, “Write a great script.” But let’s suppose, for the sake of argument, that you only have a decent script, and your (Ben Ripley’s) life depended on getting an agent within the next month. What would you do? What would you do?

BR: I remember how that felt. I remember being so impatient for my difficult, outsiders life to stop and for my “real” life as a working writer to start. It’s easy for professional writers to be benignly nostalgic about their early days coming up, forgetting that those days often felt tedious, frustrating and unsustainable. But your life shouldn’t depend on getting an agent within the next month. If it does, there’s something wrong. You should never let your life get to the point where you look at screenwriting as a lottery ticket that’s going to save you. What saves you is your belief in yourself and your commitment to getting better at your craft, regardless of when that craft is rewarded. And a decent script probably won’t get you an agent. If you’re still at the point where you’re writing “decent” scripts – as opposed to great scripts – you’re not ready for an agent. But the magic of Hollywood is that the appetite for great scripts far exceeds the supply of great scripts. So when and if you finally write that great script, word will get out. People will ask you to read it, not the other way around. Stay optimistic. Stay focused. Write well and the agents – and the success – will come.

SS: Although getting writers to answer this question specifically is almost impossible, can you tell us what you’re working on next? And if you can’t tell us, can you tell us your dream sci-fi adaptation (whether it be book, video game, comic, whatever)?

BR: I haven’t settled on the next thing yet. I don’t have a dream sci-fi adaptation. I’d love to write a submarine movie. I love historical stuff. I’d love to find a dormant Hollywood genre and reinvent it, as Gladiator did with the sword and sandals genre.

Here’s Roger with his review of Ender’s Game. Don’t forget to tune in tomorrow for an interview with a writer that reignited my love of Sci-Fi and reminded me that the simplest of Sci-Fi concepts can be the best. :)

Genre: Science Fiction, Action, Coming of Age
Premise: Aliens have attacked Earth and have almost destroyed the human species. To make sure humans win the next encounter, the world government has started breeding military geniuses and trains them in the arts of war. The early training takes the form of games, and Ender Wiggin is a genius among geniuses who wins all the games. But is he smart enough to save the planet?
About: Ender’s Game started out as a novelette by Orson Scott Card in the August 1977 issue of Analog Science Fiction and Fact. When it was expanded into a novel, it won both the Hugo and Nebula Awards for Best Novel. In May 2003, Card released his latest version of the screenplay to Warner Brothers. D.B. Weiss (and later, David Benioff), working closely with director Wolfgang Petersen, wrote a new script. Petersen eventually departed and Card announced in February 2009 that he had completed a new script for Odd Lot Entertainment.
Writers: D.B. Weiss (author of the videogame-themed novel, Lucky Wander Boy and one of the scribes for the screen adaptation of Bungie’s Halo and George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire Series for HBO) based upon the novels Ender’s Game and Ender’s Shadow by Orson Scott Card. Also based upon the screenplays by Orson Scott Card, and Michael Dougherty & Dan Harris (X2, Superman Returns).
Details: Draft is dated 7/7/05

Before there was Harry Potter and Quidditch, there was Ender’s Game and Battle School. Sure, when it comes to narrative voice, Miss Rowling is heavily influenced by Roald Dahl, but when it comes to plot elements, it’s hard not to draw comparison between Hogwarts and its various houses (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, et al.) and Battle School and its various armies (Salamander, Dragon, etc.).

I’ve never read Ender’s Game, Rog. What the hell is Battle School?

Genre: Sci-fi
Premise: A group of strangers must band together in Moscow after a mysterious alien force invades the city
About: This project has been in development for awhile and, as far as I can tell, is waiting for someone or something to breathe new life into it. The original draft was written by M.T. Ahern & Leslie Bohem four years ago, and now Spaihts has given his take on the material. Spaihts, for those who don’t know, wrote the Avatar-sounding space thriller, “Shadow 19” back in 2006, which won the admiration of Keanu Reeves. Reeves (no relation) then hired Spaihts to pen “Passengers,” his weird idea about a guy who wakes up early on a 100 year space journey. The script wowed Hollywood and finished Top 3 on the 2007 Black List. Suddenly Spaihts was a big name and interviewing for all the big sci-fi assignments. That’s when he landed this job, rewriting “The Darkest Hour” for controversial director Timur Bekmambetov (Wanted). That in turn landed him a writing assignment for Disney’s “Children of Mars,” and of course, the biggest deal of his career so far, the Alien reimagining for Ridley Scott.
Writer: Jon Spaihts
Details: 118 pages (November 30th, 2008 draft)

When you look at the writers out there today, there really isn’t anyone who’s churning out consistently good sci-fi, which is probably why Spaihts (a name I couldn’t pronounce with a blaster to my head) surprised everyone by landing the Alien reboot. But is it that surprising? Roger definitely loved Shadow 19. And Passengers is one of those scripts it seems like everyone loves (except for one person, notably). So I decided to momentarily forego all this touchy-feely Sundance fare and finish up the Spaihts trifecta. Let’s get our hands dirty with a little sci-fi, shall we?

Rex Halley is an American entrepreneur trying to take advantage of Moscow’s new influx of wealth. Or, at least, Moscow’s new influx of wealth two years ago, when this script was written and people had wealth. Equal parts eager and naïve, the 27 year old Trump aspiree cracks the deal of a lifetime, making him a millionaire within seconds, only to have it sucked away when his company’s board of trustees, all Russian, unanimously vote to fire him. A few minutes later and he’s just as unemployed as the guy who stands in front of your local Jack In The Box.

In the meantime we meet Natalie, an American abroad looking for some fun, Vika, a waifish 16 year old Russian girl, Sean, a dorky American video game developer, Skyler, a dickhead lead singer for an American metal band, and Matvei, a “don’t fuck with me” Russian policeman as big as the horse he rides on. Each is experiencing Moscow in their own way, working in it, enjoying it, enduring it. None of them know each other yet, but they will.

Cause on that very night, small golden meteor type rocks start falling from the sky, crashing all over the city. Emerging from these meteors are alien beings called “Spooks.” Seemingly driven by light and energy, these evil E.T.s are nearly invisible except for the dense glow they give off when moving around. As everyone spills outside to see what this strange phenomena is all about, the phenomena starts ripping them to pieces. These “things” are made up of a bunch of small furiously rotating metallic shards. These shards are to a human being what a juicer is to an apple. And let’s just say that after that night, Moscow could supply enough apple juice to make sure Mott’s would never have to plant another apple tree again.

We slam forward a few weeks to see our heroes, who have found each other and are nestled up inside a makeshift bunker, jumpier than a trampoline full of kangaroos. The entire city is dead, 28 Days Later style. No electricity. No society. Not another soul in site. Their days have been relegated to scavenging for water. But most of the stores have been ransacked, and leaving the bunker is always risky. There are spooks around every corner. These guys are somewhere around Plan W. They’re running out of alphabet.

Luckily a beacon of light appears halfway across the city – a highrise with an entire floor lit up. The revelation confuses and excites them. Someone else is alive! But why are they broadcasting their location to the Spooks? Could it be a trap? They decide to take a chance and go to the building because…well, because what else are they going to do? The owner of the highrise is Sergei, a Russian Einstein who’s a whiz with electronics. He’s figured out that the Spooks don’t see like we do, so as long as you protect your place with lead lining, you can run as much electricity as you want and they won’t spot you. Sergei is the first sign of hope for this desperate group. Someone who sounds like they actually know what they’re doing.

But the party is short-lived. A greedy Skylar uses the opportunity to steal all of Sergei’s food. As he sneaks out the door, the knucklehead leaves it open. This alerts the Spooks to their location, and pretty soon the Spooks are upon them producing more Spook Meat. Hmm, I don’t know why but that sounded dirty in a weird way.

Anyway, only a few of members of the group survive, and now they’re worse off than they were to start. They’re stuck in the middle of the city with nowhere to hide. Will they live? Will they die? You’ll have to read to find out.

It’s funny. You can see Timur Bekmambetov’s influence on the material right away. I’m guessing this was originally set in an American city. But Timur moved it to Moscow, most likely because of familiarity. Even though that choice came from a selfish place, it actually ends up really helping the screenplay. We’ve seen the American-City-gets-invaded thing a billion times before. By throwing these Americans into Russia, making *them* the aliens to this country, it adds a whole new dynamic when the invasion hits. Anyone who’s been away from home when something bad happens knows how alienated you feel, how unfamiliar everything becomes, how desperately you pine for home. Watching Rex and Natalie and Sean and Skyler creep through this foreign land, it’s not just about coming out alive, it’s about getting back to where they belong.

I also really liked the aliens. While they weren’t perfect, they were at least original. They’re not bug like or reptile-like, the kind of aliens I see in 99% of the scripts I read. They’re a mix of light and energy and metal. And that weird combination inspires all sorts of questions. Why are they built that way? What are their needs? What are their intentions? It was a cool choice and one I thought worked well.

Unfortunately the final act takes a bit of a nose-dive. It makes that mistake of trying to do too much in too little time. How can you take down an alien race in 30 minutes when in the opening 90 pages you haven’t killed a single one? This results in a lot of rushing, a lot of warped logic (i.e. “Well if we do *this*, then they’ll go over there and then we can bomb all of them together!”), an entirely new location we have to learn about, new characters we have to file. In fact, the final act has so much going on that you could conceivably build an entirely new screenplay out of it.

But there’s easily enough stuff here to make it worth the read. It’s a fun script that tackles an age-old story from a slightly different angle

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

What I learned: Spaiths does a perfect job describing his characters. Like any good writer, he has a hierarchy for his descriptions, cluing us in on which characters are here for the moment, which are here for a few scenes, and which will be key characters in the story. If I have a pet peeve, it’s writers who don’t have any system for describing their characters. For example, they’ll describe their main character with a single word: “cool.” Then describe a waitress in scene 48 who has one line as, “dripping with sex, the waitress wears a uniform that’s several inches too high. Her lips are naturally ruby red, and her eyes are caked in mascara. An exotic beauty.” I’m expecting that woman to be on every page of the screenplay! So be smart in how you describe your characters. If it’s a main character, give them 2 or 3 lines of description. A secondary character, 1 line of description. A minor character, a couple of descriptive adjectives is fine. And if it’s someone only making an appearance in that scene, simply give us their profession or describe them in their name (ie. “Waitress” or “Asshole Lawyer”). Let me give you an example of why this is important. Matvei, the horse policeman, appears early on in the script, but only for a moment. He won’t appear again for another 40 pages. However, since Spaihts took two full lines to describe him, I knew he was going to be a key character later on, so I paid attention. You don’t necessarily have to have *this* description hierarchy system, but you should have some system.

Genre: Drama/Love Story
Premise: A couple struggles to keep it together on the last leg of their marriage.
About: I know I said l was finished with Sundance script reviews but people kept pushing me to review more, so I’m pumping out a couple extra this week. Derek Cianfrance and his writing partners have been trying to make this movie for 12 years. Their hard work was rewarded when Ryan Gosling chose “Blue Valentine” over Peter Jackson’s “The Lovely Bones” (and left poor Jackson with the 3rd rate Mark Wahlberg in the process), new “serious actress fave” Michelle Williams joined him, and the Weinsteins bought the film at Sundance. While this may be a 2004 draft, from every review I’ve read of the film, it sounds almost identical to the shooting script.
Writers: Derek Cianfrance, Joey Curtis & Cami Delavigne
Details: 121 pages (2004 draft)

I know everyone loves Ryan Gosling, and I think he’s a fine actor, but I can’t say I’m a huge fan of the material he chooses. The double-dip combination of Half-Nelson and Lars And The Real Girl is about as enjoyable as sneaking into your local pizzeria and crawling into one of their ovens for the afternoon. I have a real issue with indie films that hit you over the head with their relentless depression for all 100 minutes of their running time, and I have a particular issue with actors who choose to only appear in these types of films. It’s as if they’re so desperate to be taken seriously, that they’re willing to sacrifice any semblance of a good story in the process. I mean, okay, you’ve moped, you’ve screamed, you’ve argued, you’ve cried…wonderful. Here’s your Oscar. But what about us? What about the people who actually want to sit down and ENJOY a film?? To me, Gosling is the poster child for that type of actor, and it’s why I don’t get excited for his projects anymore.

Blue Valentine is the third in his “slit your wrists” trilogy. Whether you love it or hate it, this is not the kind of script you enjoy. It is simply something you endure – a no holds barred look at a miserable couple trying to make it through their miserable existence. No film coming out of Sundance divided audiences more than this one. This Movieline review implies it’s one of the worst films ever made. Yet this Firstshowing review seems to say it’s one of the most authentic experiences the reviewer has ever had at a theater. Where do I come out on all this?

Well, I can’t comment on the finished film. But I can say that this draft was one of the most unpleasant reading experiences I’ve ever had in my life. I could get into the fact that there’s no real discernible story. I could talk about how the flashback device seems designed to distract us from that fact. I could get into how terribly unlikable the characters are. I could talk about how absolutely nothing happens for long stretches at a time. I could talk about how the same emotional note is hit over and over and over and over again. I could talk about the lack of character development, the stilted dialogue, how all the flashbacks could’ve been wrapped up in a single one minute scene. I could basically talk about how I had no idea what this script was about until one of the characters spelled it out for me on page 90.

BUT

The movie DID sell. The movie DID work for some people. So why?

One word. Emotion. If you’ve had a recent traumatic break-up where someone fell out of love with you, this script will hit you hard. I think the empty helpless crushing pain of being left is so powerful that it renders all of my above problems moot. It sounds like in Derek’s review on Firstshowing, that that’s exactly what happened. It was a very personal experience for him. And I get that. It’s the one thing I always say. The X-factor in your script is your subject matter. You never know who’s going to be into it, and who isn’t. But man, I mean, as a screenplay, I don’t think this works at all.

So what happens in Blue Valentine? Not a lot. But I’ll try and give you the Cliff’s Notes. David Periera is “35 years old and 35 pounds overweight.” His wife, Cindy, is beautiful. The two have a 5 year old daughter named Frankie. There seems to be an unhappiness in their relationship but we’re not told what that unhappiness stems from. The first 30 pages are basically different variations of giving us this same information.

It was this plodding approach to the story that first turned me off. I’m okay when things move slow if *something* is building. But from what I could gather, this wasn’t going to be that kind of experience. In fact, the focus appeared to be put on the most random things, characters or moments that added nothing to the screenplay. For instance we learn that Cindy had a bit of a strange family. But their introduction didn’t seem to have any point. We’d read a scene where one of the family members flipped out and then…that was it. That moment or the effects of that moment or the result of that moment never ever played into the screenplay at all. Which leaves you wondering…well then why show it in the first place?

Then there was the daughter, who also fell into this category. Why was she here? Whatever was wrong with these two had nothing to do with her (even when we reveal a “secret” about her later on, one that’s supposed to be shocking – it has no effect on the dynamic of their relationship). After a lot of passive-aggressive bickering and weird conversations between the two, David gets the idea that they should go on a weekend trip together. It’s clear Cindy doesn’t want to go but she does anyway.

Gosling at a Q&A, talking about the film, smiling more in one answer than he did the entire movie.

During their trip, we occasionally jump back six years to the period when they first met. David was the son of a logger who dreamed of bigger things. Cindy was hoping to be a doctor and was also engaged to a guy named Bobby. Somehow their paths collided, they fell in love, and they got married.

The flashback structure is supposed to be there to contrast their past with their present, not unlike a more depressing version of 500 Days Of Summer. Although as I mentioned before, nothing happens in the flashbacks that warrants them. For example, during one present-day sequence, Cindy runs into Bobby, her old fiancé, while she’s at the grocery store. They speak for a few minutes, and it’s clear Cindy and Bobby had a past together and that Bobby doesn’t like David. Cindy gets back to the car and tells David about the meeting. We can see he’s not a fan of Bobby’s. Right then we know all we need to know about Bobby and David. There was a past – the two probably fought over her – and David won out. Yet nearly 20 minutes worth of flashbacks are given to showing us this scenario, even though it’s exactly as we assumed it had been. I’m a big believer in that you don’t use flashbacks unless they add some critical piece of information or move the story forward in a way that you couldn’t in the present. And I just didn’t see that here.

Anyway….

From an objective point of view, this device of jumping from the beginning to the end of a relationship SEEMS like it could be interesting. But since the past holds so few surprises, it feels more like an obligation. You’re predicting every word five minutes before it comes out of the characters’ mouths. She’s going to yell at him here, you say. Sure enough, it’s a scene of her yelling at him. It’s as if we’re watching those fake animals at Chuck-E-Cheese’s exchange pre-recorded lines with each other. I guess that was my biggest problem with the script, is it was so predictable. I wanted more than two people who were unhappy with each other in 50 successive scenes.

And the characters. Oh the characters. You had David, who was nagging clingy jealous and annoying. And you had Cindy, who was cruel heartless bitchy whiny and a sociopath. Not to be flippant but who wants to spend their evening with two people like that?

There’s not much more I can say about this script. I’m trying to find some positives here but it’s like trying to find positives in a plane crash. I guess one thing it’s got going for it is I won’t forget it. They say the worst scripts/movies are ones you forget 2 minutes after you finish them. If it stays with you then it at least had an impact. Well, I can say with certainty that I will never forget Blue Valentine.

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

What I learned: A couple of things here. A gimmick is not a substitution for a story. Jumping back and forth in time isn’t going to distract your reader from the fact that your characters aren’t growing, that the script only hits one note, that the goals are vague, that the focus is put on meaningless scenarios/scenes/characters. If you’re going to use a unique way of telling your story (like Blue Valentine, like Eternal Sunshine, like 500 Days of Summer, like Pulp Fiction), make sure you put just as much effort into your story as you would if you were telling the thing straight up. In addition to that, in my interview with Stacey Menear, he made a great point about how good movies hit multiple emotional notes. You’re scared, you’re happy, you’re sad, you’re angry. Blue Valentine hit the same note over and over and over again – sadness – just suffocating us with depression. Make sure your script hits multiple emotional notes, WHATEVER the genre is!

Genre: Thriller
Premise: A straight-laced but depressed cop goes on a mission to find out who killed his daughter.
About: On the eve of the announcement that Mel Gibson is reteaming with Shane Black, we get his thriller, Edge of Darkness, an adaptation of an old BBC mini-series, in theaters this Friday. This is the first project Mel’s starred in in a long time, and there were whispers it was because he was blacklisted in Hollywood after his drunken rant a few years ago. For awhile, DeNiro was actually attached to this project, but dropped out a few days into shooting because of “creative differences.” Usually, we never find out what these “creative differences” are, but in this case, we learned that it was because DeNiro didn’t memorize his lines! How cool would that have been, seeing Gibson and Deniro work together? Aww man, what could’ve been.
Writer: William Monahan
Details: 127 pages (undated)

Monahan holding up the little gold guy, looking as uncomfortable as I’ve ever seen a man.

Surprising as it may sound, I’ve never read a William Monahan script before. “Surprising” because if there’s one writer who I’m continually told other writers are in awe of, it’s Monahan. The thing is, I haven’t been impressed enough by his movies to seek out any of his scripts. Despite a few nice scenes and a couple of good performances in The Departed, I thought the story was all over the place. I know some people think I’m batty for saying so, but look at Kingdom of Heaven, which also supports the case that his stories are unfocused (and yes, I saw the extended cut as well – which turned unfocused and short into unfocused and long). Body of Lies would’ve been a bad direct-to-video title had it not been for Scott, Crowe and DiCaprio’s involvement. So I was struggling to figure out just why people were so impressed with this guy.

Ten pages into Edge of Darkness, I found out. I don’t know exactly how to explain it, but Monahan has a command over his words that brings even the most mundane passages alive. The thing about Edge of Darkness is it’s so relentlessly depressing that you want to give up by the end of the first act. But Monahan’s writing – the way he builds mystery, the way he builds character, the way he writes dialogue – keeps you pushing down deeper into the darkness…and enjoying it. Make no mistake, this script is about one thing – death – and never has the subject matter been so exciting.

Craven is one of those salt-of-the-earth blue collar honest Boston guys who happens to be a cop. Problem is, he’s Irish. And us Irish aren’t very good with emotions. So when his beautiful MIT-educated daughter, Emma, comes home, there are echoes of an un-nurtured relationship there, but neither of them are able to express it because of that damn Irish DNA. The irony is, this is the last chance they’ll get to break the code, to give in and emote, because there is something wrong with Emma, something very wrong.

Less than a few hours after getting home, she’s vomiting worse than a coed after her first keg party. Even now, Craven can’t muster the courage to ask her what’s wrong, and it isn’t until she’s barely able to walk that the two realize, maybe we should get you to the hospital NOW. The two make it on to the front porch when a man in a ski-mask and a shot gun screams out “Craven!” and pumps a couple of shots into Craven’s daughter. She dies instantly. He runs.

Initial investigation presumes a botched attempt on Craven’s life. Happens to cops all the time. Criminals they put away come back for their own brand of justice. But there’s a problem. Craven doesn’t have any enemies. He’s one of the good ones. As Monahan writes in his dialogue, Craven could “put you away for life and you’d agree that he had a point.”

But Craven knows what these men don’t know. His daughter was the target. They did something to her. But why?

It’s no coincidence this script is titled Edge of Darkness. As far as Craven is concerned, his life is over. He just has one more thing to do before he crosses over to the other side – find out who killed his daughter, and make them pay.

The reason a non-procedural fan like myself enjoyed this procedural is because it’s not another Mel Gibson driving around kicking the shit out of a bunch of deadbeats snoozer. The mystery here, which involves Emma’s employment at a secret nuclear government facility perched atop Boston, clashes blue collar with big government, and watching a nobody cop take on an establishment that normally eats nosy guys like Craven for dinner, is, for lack of a better phrase, funner than shit.

Come on! There are clearly too many edges and too much darkness in this picture.

Some of the story devices used here are as old as the medium itself, but boy do they work. These government officials are used to being able to make one phone call. “Chief, tell your guy to back off.” But Craven’s not answering to the Chief anymore. He’s gone rogue. So watching him inch his way up the company ladder, discovering the truth behind why his daughter was on the verge of dying when she came back to him that day, and outsmarting everyone in his path, is like watching dawn turn into daylight.

Now I’ll be the first to admit, what they were covering up wasn’t as cool as I wanted it to be. (Spoiler) My advice to anyone writing this kind of story. Please, for the love of God, don’t include tree-hugging environmentalists in your conspiracy. The second you involve any sort of environmentalist group into a hardcore thriller, it’s like asking the Backstreet Boys to play halftime at the Super Bowl. It weakens everything. But in the end, it doesn’t matter, because the real reason we’re here is to watch Craven get revenge, one asshole at a time. And in that respect, Edge of Darkness is a 70 yard touchdown.

“You talking to him? You talking to him??” ‘Uh no Mr. De Niro, it’s “You talking to me?”

Lots of things to like in this script. A risky but neat device Monahan uses is to have Craven talk to his daughter during the mission, even though she’s not there. We hear her voice, helping him along, and it’s a great little tool that both strengthens our understanding of how much he loves her, and constantly reminds us why he’s doing this.

Also, Monahan’s style reminds me of Esztheras’ in that once he hits a conversation, he doesn’t gum it up with unnecessary description. When a reader says, “It was 125 pages but it read like it was 90,” this is what they mean.

Edge of Darkness is still hard to read because of the thick stench of death around every Bah-stan corner. Everybody here is either dead, dying, wants to die, or trying to avoid death. It’s a little overwhelming at times and would probably be too much to take if the story weren’t so entertaining. I guess I should be happy that I’m still alive after reading it. And I am. It’s a tough and depressing script to get through, but worth it.

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

What I learned: Edge of Darkness combines two key storytelling devices that work extremely well. Revenge and the Underdog. We like to follow characters who fight back after they’ve been wronged (Taken, Gladiator, Kill Bill). And we love watching an underdog take on a much stronger opponent (Rocky, Braveheart, Die Hard). Combine that with a highly sympathetic character (he just lost his daughter), and you’ve got a winning formula.

Completely unrelated comment of the day: I do not have a single solitary need for the Ipad. It would not improve my life in any noticeable way whatsoever. I don’t even understand why it was made. It doesn’t do anything that other devices can’t already do. And yet, I want one. I hate my consumer side.