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.

Genre: Legal/Action/Drama
Premise: (revealed in the review)
About: Original draft written by hotshot Kurt Wimmer. Current draft written by screenwriting God Frank Darabont. This project made headlines late last year when Darabont dropped out of directing duties. I’d tell you who replaced him and who’s starring in it, but I don’t want to taint your reading experience with big Hollywood faces. If you just have to know, go to IMDB. But I’d recommend jumping in the pool naked.
Writer: Frank Darabont

It’s about time. It’s about fucking time. I’ve been yearning for a script I could wholeheartedly endorse for weeks now. Sure I’ve given a few “impressive” reviews along the way but nothing where I could stand up and demand my readers sit down…and then read! In comes the late 2008 headline grabbing Law-Abiding Citizen. One hell of a script.

Now I’m going to give you some advice. As is the case with most scripts I enjoy, I knew nothing about this one going in. And the twists and turns are so fun that I’m going to advise you do the same. Go down, grab it, read it. Come back and read the review.

Clyde, a loving husband, comes home one day to find both his wife and 10 year old daughter murdered. Nick, the District Attorney assigned to the case, learns that while two men were at the scene, it’s unclear which one did the murdering. So when one of the men agrees to testify against the other, sending one murderer to jail and another to freedom, Nick essentially makes a deal with the devil. Clyde, the poor husband and father, begs Nick to take the case to trial and get both men indicted. But Nick doesn’t want to go through the trouble. A deal is so much easier. Here is Nick and his team discussing why it would be a bad idea (in a nice little example of invisible exposition to boot):

[scrippet]
Nick glances back at Sarah.

NICK
What do you think?

REYNOLDS
What are you asking her for? She’s just an intern.

SARAH
(deer in the headlights)
I am just an intern.

NICK
You were top of your class at Yale, don’t give me that shit.

CANTRELL
Young lady. Someday you might have our jobs. You know the issues of the case before the court. Speak.

SARAH
Okay. Um. You can take both men to trial, spend a year and millions of taxpayer dollars, and probably lose. Or you can cut a deal and at least put one of the men who did the crime on death row. It’s a no-brainer. You make the deal.
[/scrippet]
And therein lies the issue of Law-Abiding Citizen. The justice system is just that: a system. And any system can be manipulated as long as someone has enough money, information, or power. The problem is, the system just screwed over the wrong man. As Clyde watches one of the men who killed his family shake Nick’s hand and thank him for the “deal” that set him free, there’s a moment where Nick catches Clyde staring at him. It’s a chilling moment. And it’s a look that tells us…this isn’t over.

Cut to 10 years later where we’re about to witness the first killer’s execution via lethal injection. Now since this is Darabont, you know this isn’t going to be your average execution (anybody see Green Mile?). But nothing can prepare you for the horrid gruesome way in which the murderer is killed. When the chemicals are injected, we can see immediately that something is wrong. His body starts smoking. He screams in pain. His skin turns black. His veins burst. The chemicals in his body are so toxic, men can’t even go in the room without being poisoned.

Meanwhile, the second murderer, the free one, only wishes he could’ve died that easily. In a great scene with an unexpected twist, he’s kidnapped and hauled back to an abaondoned barn. There Clyde, using as many drugs as possible to keep him alive, proceeds to tear apart his body piece by piece. The man is awake during the whole process, forced to watch as he’s chopped to pieces.

So does Clyde try and hide the death? No. He actually videotapes it and sends a DVD of the killing directly to Nick’s house.

In one of Citizen’s many great scenes, Nick brings Clyde in for an interrogation. The awesome thing about the scene is that Nick knows Clyde is guilty. Clyde knows he’s guilty. And Clyde knows that Nick knows he’s guilty. So this should be a pretty straight-forward conversation, right?

[scrippet]
Nick and Dunnigan prepare to go in. Dunnigan takes off his gun and holster, lays them on a table, as Garza activates the VIDEO. Cantrell finds a chair by feel, sits down, as – Nick and Dunnigan enter. Dunnigan melts into a corner to observe as Nick sits across the table from Clyde.

CLYDE
Counselor.

NICK
Mr. Clyde.

CLYDE
Why so formal? We go way back. Call me Benson. Or Ben.

Nick sits across the table from Clyde, settles in.

NICK
Well. I’m here. So?

CLYDE
So. Maybe you can explain what this is all about.

Nick almost laughs — not what he expected to hear.

NICK
I think that’s obvious.

Clyde spreads his hands questioningly — not really.

DUNNIGAN
You murdered two people. Rupert Ames and Clarence Darby.

CLYDE
(shifts his gaze)
Detective…?

DUNNIGAN
Dunnigan.

CLYDE
Dunnigan. I thought I’d made it clear I would only speak to the gentleman across the table from me. Dunnigan glowers at him, looks to Nick.

NICK
You murdered two people. Rupert Ames and Clarence Darby.

CLYDE
Darby? I knew about Ames, of course. I’ve been following the news about his horribly botched execution. But Darby too? Quite a coincidence.

DUNNIGAN
Cut the shit. We know you did it. Save everybody a lot of time and trouble and just confess.

CLYDE
Are you going to continue to insist on being part of this conversation?

DUNNIGAN
Yes.

CLYDE
(beat, gives in)
Fine. Far be it from me to be rude.

NICK
Clarence Darby was found on your property. Old abandoned shed?

CLYDE
I didn’t know I had one. It’s 150 acres, uncultivated. The other day I found a creek I never knew I had. Hunters trespass all the time. You going to try to pin the dead deer on me too?

-Observation Area-

SARAH
I don’t believe this guy.

CANTRELL
That man is frosty.

– Inner Room –

CLYDE
It occurs to me that an even moderately clever person could try to frame me for the murder simply by killing him on my property. One of Darby’s drug rivals? That’s an unsavory world.
(off Nick’s stare)
A jury would have to weigh that possibility. What else you got?

NICK
(temper flaring)
How about video of you dismembering Darby while he was still alive?

CLYDE
That’s odd. See, if I were to do such a thing, I’d probably wear something so I couldn’t be identified. Some kind of mask maybe. But you say it’s actually me on the video? Did the camera capture my good side?

Nick snaps, lunges across the table, grabs Clyde.

NICK
You sick fuck, you sent it to my house! My daughter saw that video! It fucking traumatized her! She couldn’t stop sobbing!

Dunnigan moves in fast, trying to pull Nick off (but failing)-

DUNNIGAN
Whoa-whoa, Nick, ease off!

CLYDE
No trouble here, Detective, we’re fine. Thank you, though.

Dunnigan backs off. Clyde turns back to Nick, who’s still got him in his grasp, their faces close.

CLYDE
Your daughter is, what, ten now? That’s a wonderful age. My daughter was always so busy at that age, so interested, so into everything. Jumping around. I called her “Bean,” she jumped around so much.

Nick is easing off by inches, subtly and ineffably weirded out, unable to break Clyde’s gaze.

Softly-

CLYDE
I am sorry, Nick, that your daughter experienced that. You’re right. That video should not have arrived that way. The person who sent it should have thought twice.

Dunnigan moves in again, gently but firmly pulls Nick away.

DUNNIGAN
Okay, enough.

CLYDE
Unless there’s hard evidence tying me to these crimes — forensic or otherwise — why am I here? Why are we having this conversation?

NICK
We know you did it.

CLYDE
It’s not about what you know. It’s about what you can prove in court.
(off Nick’s look)
Your words. Like when you called it a justice *system*. You know the thing about a system, Nick? Any system can be played.

NICK
You think you can play us? You gonna take me on?

CLYDE
Clarence Darby did. And I’m much smarter than he was. Or you.

Nick advances, furious, held back by Dunnigan:

NICK
I’m gonna bury you, fucker!

CLYDE
(lunges to his feet)
That’s it, that’s what I want! That fire in the belly! That’s what I wanted ten years ago! Do it, Nick! Bury me!

DUNNIGAN
(shouting at Clyde)
Sit down! Sit the fuck down!

Clyde does, settles in, speaking calmly –

CLYDE
Or. Set me free.

NICK
What?

CLYDE
Did I stutter? Make your case. Or. Shake my hand on the courthouse steps and send me on my way.
(off Nick’s look)
I’ll even make it easy on you. I will confess, how’s that?

NICK
You’re gonna confess.

CLYDE
Let’s start tomorrow after a good night’s sleep. We’ll all be fresh and rested.
[/scrippet]
And this is where the story of Law-Abiding Citizen finally takes shape. Clyde is determined to make the system work for him, just like it worked for the men who killed his family.

It’s a great premise because we’ve all thought it before. Our justice system is a joke. An officer can forget to read someone his Miranda Rights and a murderer is back on the streets within days. What if someone angry enough, someone with the capability and know-how, someone with the resources, decided to exploit this joke of a system for what it was? And what if he was willing to go to any lengths to do it? That is the premise of Law-Abiding Citizen.

I have a feeling this description is going to come back to bite me but I see this as sort of a hyper modern-day version of Silence Of The Lambs. The similarities are limited in most respects, but the memorable bad guy pulling the strings and manipulating the system really brought me back to that initial feeling of watching Silence Of The Lambs.

The only reason this doesn’t get genius status and a higher place on my Top 25 is because of the ending. And it’s not that I didn’t like the ending. I did. But the last 15 pages were the only time in the script – regardless of how absurd it got- where I was actively wondering if what was happening was possible. When we find out Clyde is sneaking out of the jail to perform some of these murders…………eh, I don’t know. This is a man who’s killed dozens of people. Wouldn’t you have a couple of guards down by his cell watching him at all times? Or at the very least a camera? Incidentally, you only end up noticing this because the rest of the script is so damn good.

If done right, this has the potential for greatness.

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

What I learned: There’s no real traditional Act 1 turn in Law-Abiding Citizen. A series of really interesting twists and turns keep happening, but the true nature of the plot doesn’t reveal itself until around page 45. This is just a reminder that the 30 page point is a rough placemarker for when the plot is supposed to kick in. But if you can keep a series of mysteries going, the readers will be more forgiving and allow you to take more time to begin your story.

postscript: So, if you went to IMDB you saw that the movie is now being directed by F. Gary Gray, and stars Gerard Butler and Jaime Foxx. I’m not sure I like the casting here. I would’ve rather seen someone like Patrick Wilson in the Nick roll and a young John Malkovich type in the roll of Clyde. But hopefully these guys pull it off. I know I’m rooting for them.

Genre: Drama
Premise: A civilian who wins the chance to join a NASA shuttle flight finds himself adrift in space when the rest of the crew dies.
About: Orbit is being produced by Fox 2000 with Thomas Bezucha (The Family Stone) to direct. It is adapted from the John Nance novel of the same name and is slated for a 2011 release. The writer, Sheldon Turner, has a ton of projects he’s working on, including Up In The Air (with DiCaprio attached), Law-Abiding Citizen, and X-Men Origins: Magneto.
Writer: Sheldon Turner

That’s a long drop

I love scripts with interesting concepts. But you know what I love even more? Seeing what the writers do with those concepts. A concept is easy. It can come to you in a flash. You write it down a minute later and there you have it: your concept. But to turn that into a 120 minute piece of living breathing cinema?…now that’s difficult. So whenever I grab one of these “great concept” scripts, I eagerly anticipate getting to the “hook”, because from that point forward, you can no longer depend on your “neat idea”. You must craft an emotionally engaging story. It is in this vast horizon where screenplays live or die.

Orbit has an intriguing concept. A civilian wins a contest to go up into space, but once he gets there, he finds that his entire crew is dead. What do you do when you’re up in a space shuttle all by yourself? You can’t pilot it back to earth. That’s absurd. Nobody can save you. There’s no way they could mount a rescue mission in time. To be honest, I didn’t think it was possible to take this story in an interesting and plausible direction. Which is exactly why I wanted to read it. I wanted to be proven wrong.

Matthew and Cindy are going through difficult times. Their 13 year old son died two years ago and their current son would rather be at boarding school than stuck with them. The way Matthew deals with his son’s death is to pretend that it never happened. The way Cindy deals with the death is to think of nothing else but it. Because of this, the two have grown apart, and their marriage is hurtling towards the point of no return.

So when NASA, looking for a little publicity, chooses Matthew as the winner of a contest that sends a civilian into space, Cindy isn’t exactly thrilled. It’s one thing to head up to the summer home for some space. It’s quite another to actually *go* into space for some space. But Matthew insists he must do this. She relents. He goes through the training. And then…well, and then he goes into space. Unfortunately, once he gets there, he realizes that all five of his crew are dead. Matthew is all alone. On the space shuttle.

So the hook’s been cast (fishing phrase?). We’ve reached the premise point. That vast horizon of possibility is sprawled out before us. So what does our main character do?

Are you ready for this?

Are you sure you’re ready for this?

He starts blogging.

No, I kid you not. He pops out his laptop and starts blogging. Sure the radio is down so he can’t communicate with Houston. But, um…blogging? Seriously? How bout e-mail? An instant message. Maybe even a twitter: “Up here on the shuttle. Help.” But blogging??

/sigh

I’m sorry but at that moment, Orbit lost all credibility. And I was only on page 37.

Things go from bad to worse when Matthew learns that the oxygen tanks are busted and he has 24 hours to live. Eventually someone in Australia finds his blog, word spreads, and soon the whole world is riveted by Matthew’s predicament. So what do they do to help Matthew?

Uhh…

Are you ready for this?

Are you sure you’re ready for this?

They prep a new experimental shuttle to go up and save him.

/sigh

You heard that right. They prepare an experimental new shuttle in less than 3 hours to save him! I……….I can’t even begin to explain how logistically impossible this is. It takes these guys months of preparation to send a shuttle into space. Now they’re going to round up a new group of astronauts, pop out the new billion dollar experimental aircraft, throw it up on the launchpad, and launch it, all within 3 hours????? I mean come on. That’s not even within the realm of possibility.

Up on the busted shuttle, Matthew gets a lot of time alone to think about all the mistakes he’s made in life and to finally come to terms with his son’s death. It all plays out in an extremely melodramatic, cheesy, saccharine tone that tries desperately to tug at your heartstrings (but ends up tugging more at your stomach-strings). In the end, none of it works.

I hate to say that because I loved this idea. I really did. This was a disappointment.

No link.

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

What I learned: If there’s one thing Orbit gets right, it’s the application of the “ticking time bomb” device. True, it’s pretty basic stuff: Matthew has 24 hours to live before his oxygen runs out, but it’s effective because the stakes are high. Unless he does something within those 24 hours, he dies. Not every story needs a ticking time bomb, but they help. In a smaller independent film, it might be that if the protagonist doesn’t find enough money to pay his mortgage in time, he’ll lose his house. In a romantic comedy it might be that the girl is moving to France in 3 days, which gives our protagonist 72 hours to make her fall in love with him. Anything that forces things to happen *NOW* creates an urgency that pulls the audience in. Most of your favorite movies use this device. Don’t believe me? Go back and read them. :)