Genre: Drama
Premise: Two former best friends, at opposite ends of their sport’s success spectrum, take each other on in a match for the ages in front of the woman they both love.
About: Big one here! Zendaya in a tennis movie! With “Call Me By Your Name” director Luca Guadagnino directing! That may be the most unorthodox trio of elements (Zendaya, tennis, Luca Guadagnino) I’ve ever seen in a project. And I love tennis so I’m here for it! The writer is brand new.
Writer: Justin Kuritzkes
Details: 128 pages (lots of dialogue, though, so it doesn’t read that long)

Normally, I go into scripts naked. I have no idea who wrote them or where they came from. All the stuff you read in the “About” section is usually research I do after I’ve read the script. I do this so I can judge every script equally. This time, however, I know a little about the script.

That’s because it’s a tennis script. And anybody who knows me, knows I’m a tennis guy. To give you a peek behind the curtain, I had the Miami Open on Tennis Channel playing, literally, on a loop, all last week. So when a tennis script comes around, I’m more curious than usual.

In this case, I’m insanely curious because it’s a tennis script……… directed by Luca Guadagnino. Well respected critically acclaimed directors don’t typically direct tennis movies. And even when they do – Woody Allen – the movie isn’t any good. In fact, tennis movies still have an 0-19 track record in cinema.

And yes, I’m including King Richard, which I don’t consider to be a tennis movie. It’s a movie about a crazy dad who turns his daughters into tennis players. A legit good tennis movie that focuses on tennis has not happened yet.

Adding some spice to the dish is that Zendaya is starring. Four months ago I wouldn’t have cared about that. But since then, I’ve fallen in love with Euphoria, and now consider myself a Zendaya fan. I am soooooooo so so so very interested in if this script is actually good. The pieces indicate literally ANYTHING is possible. Let us find out together, if this is finally the first good tennis screenplay.

Our story opens on the beginning of a tennis match between 6-time Grand Slam champion, 33 year old, Art Donaldson, and 32 year old tennis journeyman, Patrick Zweig, playing the finals of a Challenger (low-level) tournament in the middle of nowhere.

The best player in the world is playing a tiny Challenger because he’s coming off an injury, needs his confidence back, and therefore wants some cupcake wins leading up to the U.S. Open.

Watching the match is 33 year old Tashi Donaldson, Art’s hard-nosed wife and coach, who seems very into this tiny nothing match where the winner only gets $7000. That’s because, as we’re about to find out, there’s a LOT of history between these three.

Flash back nearly 20 years ago when the three were juniors. Art and Patrick were the toasts of the junior boys’ world, winning the junior U.S. Open doubles championships together and facing off in the singles final. And that’s where they meet Tashi, who’s better than both of them. There’s an instant connection between the three.

The script then jumps back to the present day, where we’re a little further along in the match. This is the structure we’ll be following. We’ll play a little of the match, then jump into the past for a while, before coming back again.

Each time, we learn something new about the relationship and the players. We learn that Patrick, who decides against college and joins the tour, starts dating Tashi. We watch as both Tashi and Art go to Stanford and become good friends. We watch as Art starts to undermine Patrick in an attempt to date Tashi himself. We see Tashi experience a devastating injury in college that kills her career in an instant. And we see this strange entanglement of the three until Art and Patrick begin to detest each other.

This makes their present-day match all the more compelling, as talent and skill go out the window. This is not the number 7 player in the world playing number 207. It’s two former best friends committed to destroying each other out of pure hate. Who will win?

Let’s cover the biggest question on everyone’s mind: Was the tennis stuff accurate?

Okay, maybe nobody cares about that except me. But actually, it is important. Even if you, the reader, don’t have a clue about the subject matter, you can always tell when the writer doesn’t know what he’s talking about. It’s a sense you get. And as soon as you get it, you don’t trust the screenplay as much. It’s no different from walking up to your tennis lesson and catching the last few points of your pro playing against a good player, and seeing him get his butt kicked. All of a sudden, you’re not so sure about learning tennis from this guy anymore.

The tennis stuff was, for the most part, accurate. I never read anything and thought, “That would never happen.” Sure, it’s unlikely that one of the best players in the world would play a Challenger tournament. But they made a pretty good case for it. Art needed a few easy wins under his belt to gain confidence going into the U.S. Open and this was the only tournament available with a week left.

Where the script runs into trouble is in the love triangle. At times I was into it but there were these super-long dialogue scenes that didn’t always feel genuine. It felt like a writer trying to put the words HE wanted into the character’s mouths, as opposed to the words that would actually come out of peoples’ mouths.

We all are guilty of this. In fact, this is one of the hardest things about screenwriting, is letting go enough to let your characters speak. The challenge is that scenes need to push the story forward so you do need to GUIDE the conversation. But finding that balance of guiding the conversation and also letting the characters speak is a line finer than any of the lines you’ll encounter on a tennis court.

For example, early on, when the characters are just 17 years old, they’re hanging out at a big tournament for the first time. There’s some flirting going on as the guys try to gauge if Tashi likes them. Tashi mentions that she’s seen them play before and Patrick has some fun with it, replying, “I didn’t know you’d been watching.” Tashi responds: “I haven’t been. I just watched you play once at the Junior Australian Open, and it was obvious to me that no one’s ever taught you anything. They’re all afraid of messing with the magic. That’s why you still have that atrocious serve.”

I have been in hundreds of conversations with tennis players at tournaments and no player has ever said to another player, who they’ve just met, that one of their strokes is horrible. When you get to know someone, sure, you have fun with that sort of thing. But first time you meet? Come on. Imagine coming off any field or rink or court, meeting someone, and them saying, “God, you can’t dribble worth shit!”

Yeah, the writer is trying to establish that Tashi says what’s on her mind. Which I sort of get. But you still have to play by the rules of reality. Especially if you’re writing a drama, which this is. A comedy, you might be able to get away with that if you’re going for a laugh. I could see Will Ferrell delivering that line. But this is supposed to be real life. It’s not realistic to insult someone about their passion within a minute of meeting them.

With that said, the writer gets more right about this 3-way relationship than wrong. I know that because I found myself caring more and more about the match the more I learned about the characters’ history. Each new piece of information deepened the grudge in this grudge match, which tells me I was buying into it.

But I do think Tashi is the weak link here and I think I know what’s going on. Art and Patrick are the ones who get to play. They get all the action. Tashi is relegated to watching on the sidelines. So the writer knew that he needed to make a really strong character. Somebody who left an impression. That, Tashi is. She’s incredibly strong, opinionated, brash, intense. The problem is, she’s so much of these things, that you kind of hate her. She’s always angry. She’s always yelling at someone, always telling them off. I was kind of thinking of Jada-Pinkett Smith whenever she spoke. I’m not sure that “pissed off” is the best defining trait for a character.

A cool thing about Challengers, though, is that it shows you you can create big stakes without needing a big plot. All the tennis scripts I read have the players playing in the final of Wimbledon or something. It’s cliche. And, as a result, we don’t take it seriously.

The way to create big stakes in a smaller movie is through the characters. You raise the stakes through the relationships you build between them. And Challengers is really good at that. From learning these two used to play doubles as kids, when they were best friends, to falling in love with the same girl, to both dating that girl at different times in their life, to one of them becoming great and the other flaming out — all of that makes their puny little Challenger match a big deal. Ironically, the tournament doesn’t even matter. All that matters is beating this person they detest.

The script also has some… we’ll say… surprising developments towards the end. Not on the court. Well, sort of on the court. But more so off the court. Ehh, if I say anything more, I’ll spoil it. But I want to say one more thing because it’s an important screenwriting point. The dialogue gets noticeably better towards the end. And I was wondering why. I finally realized that the earlier dialogue, which was occasionally on-the-nose, no longer felt on-the-nose since the characters were in these climactic heated “everything’s coming to a head” conversations. Those are the moments where characters really say what they mean. So what was on-the-nose before, now felt authentic. I think the writer just needed to dial that “I’m a character who says exactly what he thinks all the time” stuff down in the earlier portion of the screenplay. But at the end, it was great. It led to some truly powerful moments.

It’s for these reasons that I recommend Challengers. Will it be the first truly good tennis movie ever? I don’t know. Tennis movies, like Patrick’s career, tend to flame out onscreen. But they’ve got a great director and an ace up their sleeve with one of the hottest actresses in town so maybe they crack the code. I’ll know right away once they drop the trailer and report back to you then!

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

What I learned: Think long and hard about what a character’s defining trait is. Because that’s the trait that we’re going to see over and over again in the majority of the scenes they’re in. So if you want us to like someone and their defining trait is, “pissed off,” you’ve probably failed. There’s all sorts of defining traits to choose from. So pick the ones that both capture the character but also make the audience see that character the way you want them to be seen. Ripley’s defining trait in Aliens was, “determined,” or “brave.” Ruby’s defining trait in Coda was that she lacked confidence in herself. Guy’s defining trait in Free Guy was, “optimistic.” Julie’s defining trait in The Worst Person in the World was, “noncommittal.” She never knew what she wanted. I’ve noticed that when a writer picks the wrong defining trait for a character, the character doesn’t work. And that’s what I think happened with Tashi. Don’t get me wrong.  She’s not a terrible character.  But she was grating, like sandpaper, and I’m not sure that’s what the writer was aiming for.

THE NEWSLETTER IS OFFICIALLY IN YOUR INBOXES! CHECK YOUR PROMOTIONS FOLDERS IF YOU DIDN’T GET IT!

Genre: Heist/Sci-Fi
Premise: Still reeling in the wake of her husband’s death, master thief Viola Crier signs on to a risky, last-minute job set to take place inside a man-made time loop, but as the number of loops increases, the job begins to spiral out of control.
About: Today’s writer and her script finished with 10 votes on the Black List. She is repped by William Morris Endeavor. This is her first screenplay. Or at least the first that’s made any noise.
Writer: Lindsay Michael
Details: 120 pages

How in the world do we follow yesterday?

I’m still thinking about it. Every time I think about what happened, I still can’t believe it. This guy hit someone on stage and then 15 minutes later, everyone gave him a standing ovation. We have to be living in a simulation for that to have happened, right? It defies all logic. There have to be some repercussions. Or are we going to all pretend it never happened, like the Oscar audience?

Anyway, we shall try to move on. And what better way to move on than with a new loop script! I’ve developed one of these myself so I know how tricky they can be. Let’s see how today’s writer handled it.

It’s 2038. A young female thief, Viola, is doing a job in Shanghai with her thief-husband, but he’s killed by the people they steal from. Viola is barely able to get out of Shanghai, with the help of a mysterious man named Okafor. Okafor tells Viola that he wants to hire her for the hardest job she’s ever done – stealing a 53 million dollar diamond. Go put a team together, he says.

She first gets 50 year-old Sybill, who is a master of disguise. She then flies to another country to pick up 19 year old safecracker, Cass. She then grabs explosives expert, Nemo, in Uzbekistan. And finally she gets pilot, Jackie, who’s going to fly everyone out once they steal the diamond.

The target is a place called Sandpiper Resort, in the Namib Desert. The place is a sand ski resort for the rich and famous. Okafor’s brother, a war profiteer named Wangari, took the diamond their dead father left for Okafor and Okafor wants it back. Wangari is in town to vacation at Sandpiper and Okafor knows he’s brought the diamond with him.

Once everyone is together, Okafor reveals their ace in the hole – he’s got a time-looping device. That means they’ll have not one, not two, not three, but four full shots to get the diamond. Anything after that and the time distortion field will destabilize. Nobody is very happy about this unpredictable device but since each individual’s take is 10 million bucks, they get over it fast.

The first run-through, the bomb they use to break into Wangari’s room ends up accidentally blowing a hole in the underground resort and sending a stream of suffocating sand in to snuff everybody out. Once the loop resets, they decide to spend the next shot on a test run. There are too many unknown variables that they need to figure out to pull this off. That leaves them with only two tries left. As you can imagine, the pressure mounts quickly, and the group come to the realization that four tries at the heist of the century might not be enough.

With scripts like this, you have to watch out for information overload and subsequent reader disorientation. Screenwriters are notorious for forgetting just how much information they’re throwing at the reader. To them, this information is common knowledge, so they assume it’s common knowledge to you, as well. This is what gets them into trouble. They’re operating on the assumption that you’re on the same page they are, when, in reality, you’re still ten pages behind them, trying to figure out that thing that happened on page 9.

Sandpiper starts out with a woman standing over a dead body in a morgue, a man whose wedding ring is featured prominently and, therefore, may have been our hero’s husband. Our hero then runs off with a Chinese detective, escaping a team of policemen, only to later get double-crossed by the detective.

At this point, I don’t know who my hero is, why we’re in China, what just happened to her maybe-husband, why she’s playing secret games with a Chinese cop, and what her job is. The next thing you know we’re meeting some random guy named Okafor who helps us escape on a train, then offers us a job to steal a diamond, then minutes later we go on a 4 continent montage to collect a mission impossible team, meeting four team-members who are going to help Viola do the heist.

It’s only after all this is over that we learn her and her husband were a thief-team and they’d been caught, which is why he was killed. In other words, I’m only learning what happened on page 1, on page 40. That’s not acceptable. I know, as writers, we think we’re cleverly withholding information and creating suspense by drip-feeding relevant backstory twenty pages at a time, but you have to be realistic. I’m supposed to keep track of those details while memorizing 4 different people on 4 different continents. That’s unrealistic.

This particular mistake is almost always a beginner one as it takes a while, as a screenwriter, to understand what a reader can and can’t keep up with. That comes through feedback from dozens of people reading your scripts. Which is one of the reasons I encourage new writers to first master simple one-character stories before moving on to Marvel-level 22-parallel storyline screenplays.

This issue continues throughout the script, making relatively straightforward plot points difficult to keep up with. For example, Viola gives up her 10 million dollar share to Jackie. Jackie says why would you do that. Viola says why does it matter? Then, 30 pages later, Viola reveals that Okafor promised her that, if she could steal this diamond for him, he’d use his time loop machine to send her back to save her husband.

Why all the cloak and dagger? Why not just tell us FROM THE BEGINNING that Okafor offers Viola this? I would’ve been way more invested in Viola’s pursuit since I’d know that the stakes were much higher. I just didn’t understand why everything needed to be a secret from the reader. Sure, sometimes you want secrets but not with basic important story elements, like motivation.

I’m not going to knock everything about the script. The loop heist idea is cool. And, strategically speaking, this is the kind of script you want to write if you’re trying to get those Mission Impossible studio jobs. You write in a “big action script” adjacent genre, like sci-fi action. But the hard stuff should be the characters and plotting in a screenplay, not conveying basic stuff like GSU. It just killed any potential enjoyment of the script.

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

What I learned : Never make a script exactly 120 pages. It makes seasoned readers think that you read a screenwriting book that a script couldn’t be over 120 pages and so you nipped and tucked your script relentlessly until you finally got it down to exactly that number. There are definitely things in your script that are not precious enough for you to hold onto that number. If you’re at 120, try to get it down 115. Even 117 is better than 120. 120 has “newbie” written all over it as it reeks of OCD adherence to ancient screenwriting requirements.

As we tighten up our first acts for the next Scriptshadow contest, the First Act Challenge, which you can start submitting to tomorrow (YAAAYYY!!!), I want to take a trip back to the last contest, the “Anything Goes Showdown,” and look at some of the scripts that didn’t make it.

I know how frustrating it can be, entering your scripts in contests and not knowing why they didn’t advance. So I wanted to give you a little behind the scenes look at what goes into the decision-making process. Granted, my contests are subjective, since it’s only me judging, but at least you can get an idea of why people turn down submissions. Let’s take a look!

Title: Bunker
Genre: thriller
Logline: A financially-struggling father is hired to keep up the maintenance of a luxury underground bunker, only to find himself in possible danger when a mysterious group on a retreat arrives
WYSR: This is a one location thriller with sci-fi elements and an arc for the main character.  I’d write more but it’s 10 pm

Why it didn’t get chosen: Funny enough, this is the kind of logline I usually go for. I like contained thrillers. I like mysterious groups showing up and throwing everything into disarray. I just like that setup for a movie. Also, as I’m thinking like a producer, stuff like this would be really cheap to make. The reason I didn’t pick it, though, is because the submission feels rushed. The word “thriller” is not capitalized. There are no periods at the end of the logline or “Why you should read” sentences. Even the WYSR admits that there’s a “rushed” component to this submission. My experience tells me that when a submission feels rushed, or sloppy, that that’s going to carry over into the script itself.

One of the mistakes screenwriters make is forgetting how many other people they’re competing against. They don’t know that the person reading their submission may have read 50 other submissions that week. Or 100. Or more. These readers are making direct comparisons between your submission and everybody else’s. So if they sense that you haven’t put everything into that query, they’re probably going to pass you over. The only exception would be if you have the greatest idea ever. But, as you can see, even someone who likes these types of movies wasn’t willing to risk their time on such a hastily written submission.

Title: Miss-Understanding
Genre: Guy Rom-Com
Logline: When a comedian’s attempted clever marriage proposal goes awry, he must find his upset girlfriend in her hometown, a city he’s never been to, right before she’s set to fulfill maid of honor duties at her younger sister’s wedding.

Why you should read: I have written in the double digits for screenplays, mostly with comedies.  This could be a Hangover meets Bridesmaids type of film that would once again involve finding someone for a wedding, but with more emphasis on the female aspect compared to the Hangover. This also would involve the bond between sisters, so you get the wedding conflict and the older sister wanting to be there for the younger sister dynamic as older sister’s typically do. That’s on top of the conflict between a romantic relationship. In this day and age, people try to always be overly creative, theatrical if you will, and often it can blow up in their face. This plays upon that and is a throwback to more risque comedies of the past.

Why it didn’t get chosen: I feel like this submission could’ve been improved 75% with a better logline. A reminder to hire me for your loglines guys (carsonreeves1@gmail – just $25!). The logline is both clunky and hard to understand. “When a comedian’s attempted clever marriage proposal…”. This is too vague. I’d prefer to know what actually happened in the proposal if it could fit into the logline. “…he must find his upset girlfriend in her hometown…” Why is she in her hometown? Didn’t he just propose to her? Did he propose in his own town and then she flew to her town? Or were they already in her town when he proposed and she ran off? There should never be this many questions when reading a logline. You also want to avoid these siphoned off comma-asides (“a city he’s never been to”) whenever possible. They give the logline a start-and-stop feel. Loglines should flow. Then a separate wedding is thrown into the mix at the last second. And even if you understand all of this, it still basically boils down to, “Guy has to go find his mad girlfriend,” which I’m not sure is big idea enough for a movie. So please, guys, come to me in order to fix these issues, preferably before you write the screenplay, so I can tell you what you’re up against.

Title: OUR TOYS IN MIAMI
Genre: Profane Comedy
Logline: A Cuban American private driver is recruited to cover a toy car patent case after her court reporter client gets shot and unable  to do so.
WYSR: As a toy car collector, I couldn’t help but be drawn to a real court case involving two European toy car companies that fought in a US court over a little motor.  What makes it more interesting is the case was set in 1985 Miami at the height of some serious drug cartel action at the time and all the assorted things that make Miami a unique setting and open to roast.  And I’ve put them all out here, wrapped up in a profane, no holds barred, but romantic, and often tender telling that dulls the offensive to a point.  I don’t like to brag about my expensive trips, but I just came back from the gas station. We need comedy more than ever.

Why it didn’t get chosen: I actually considered this script for the top 5. I’m always looking for unique stories that I haven’t seen before and this definitely fits the bill. The reason I backed off was because I don’t like made-up genres (Profane Comedy). In the past, that tends to mean a rookie script with a lot of mistakes. And while I love specificity in loglines, since it helps differentiate your idea from everyone else’s, this idea seemed almost too specific. A Cuban American private driver (extremely specific), a toy car patent case (super specific), a court reporter client who gets shot (oddly specific). If all three of these things felt more organically connected, I might have posted the script. But each of them feel like different movies. This might be a logline problem. I would only know if I read the script. But, as written, I just felt it was too messy to take a chance on.

Title: BLACK MARKET
Genre: Horror/Crime-Thriller
Logline: An aging African-American war veteran tracking her missing family must take down a criminal network which targets people of color — as a desired cuisine for the rich and powerful.
Pitch: BLACK MARKET is a disturbing and metaphorical peek into America’s racism toward and consumption of Black and Brown communities by way of Jordan Peele, Ari Aster, and Robert Eggers in an after hours session at A24’s main office — or so I dare imagine.

Why it didn’t get chosen: A lot of you might see this idea and think, “This should’ve made it, Carson.” It’s timely. These types of scripts are getting snatched up all over the place. The Black List would probably put it on the list based on the logline alone. What’s the deal? Well, I did consider it. In the end, though, I felt it was a couple of notches shy of being clever enough. White people eating people of color. It’s a bit blunt and on the nose, in my opinion. You’re always looking for those ideas that have that clever, possibly ironic, undercurrent. The example I always use is that magazine story that sold a couple of years ago about two ice cream truck owners who start a war with each other. Ice cream is associated with fun, happiness, and good times. So it’s a funny idea that two ice cream trucks would start a war with one another. If the political commentary in this script is really sharp, it may prove me wrong. But when I read a logline, I want my eyes to pop out. With this one I sort of squinted and said, “Ehhhh, maybe that could work,” which wasn’t enough for me to post it.

Title: High Society
Genre: Comedy / Romantic Comedy
Logline: A stoned slacker follows his frisbee into his rich neighbor’s yard, and then follows his heart as he courts a beautiful heiress who is 1000% out of his league.
Why You Should Read: This fish-out-of-bongwater story is a mashup of the stoner film and comedy of manners genres — a stoner comedy of manners, if you will. — Inspired by a summary of Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey, it’s a tale of class and grass in which traditions go up in smoke and sparks fly as a pair of star-crossed lovers learn that their high hopes can only be realized with a joint effort.

Why it didn’t get chosen: I loved the fun play-on-words throughout this submission. That’s the kind of thing that tells me, unlike the top entry, “Bunker,” that this writer really thought through his submission. My favorite was “fish-out-of-bongwater” story. But this is a simple case of knowing your audience. I’m not keen on stoner comedies. 99% of the regular comedy scripts I read are sloppy messes. The stoner comedies I read are even messier. So I’ve kind of given up on this sub-genre unless you send me the greatest stoner-comedy idea ever. You need to know who you’re sending your script to. If you’re sending a script to Nicholl, it better not be a sci-fi script, since no sci-fi script has ever won there. And you probably shouldn’t send a stoner comedy to Scriptshadow, although I guess it was free so why not take a chance. P.S. Nobody in Hollywood is well-read. So mentioning Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey might get you a lot of confused stares.

Title: PAST TOPEKA
Genre: Western
Logline: Years after their father betrayed a gang of outlaws to steal a fortune, 14-year-old Patrick and his two younger brothers greet one of that gang who comes searching for the fortune — and treats the boys like his own sons. When Patrick and his brothers discover the truth about the stranger, they must confront him and reclaim their father’s legacy.
Why: A good story well-told should count for something.

Why it didn’t get chosen: Westerns are hard to slip through the system because a lot of them sound the same. Someone betrayed someone and someone has to confront someone. I feel like Western writers make the mistake of loving Westerns so much they assume that just the offering of another one gets them points from a reader. No. A Western logline has to be even more clever, even more unique, than a logline from the other, more popular, genres. And this one just didn’t have anything in it that I felt I haven’t seen before. I also didn’t like the pitch. “A good story well-told should count for something.” That shouldn’t be a pitch. That should be a given. Everyone should think they have a good well-told story. If you have an idea that’s a little bland, like this one, your pitch should tell the recipient why it isn’t bland. On top of all this, the logline is clunky and, I suspect, leaves out information that might’ve helped it sound more intriguing. It could definitely use a rewrite.

Title: MATE
Genre: Horror
Logline: After a one night stand with a mysterious working girl, a man on the run in rural North Dakota is confronted by the reality that she may be pregnant with his child. When the man is welcomed into her family’s home, he believes the unborn baby will fulfill his dream of being a father. However, he soon comes to find that the woman and her kin have far more sinister intentions for him.
WYSR: We are a writing team that have been lurking Scriptshadow for over a decade, so this submission is a long time coming for us. Inspired by traditional gothic fiction we took a classic European horror monster and brought it to the oil fields and farmlands of North Dakota. Over the years, we’ve had several reputable producers and a-list talent attached to this script, but an official production has never come to fruition. Our goal this year is to finally get representation as writers, and we hope this script can help us do that.

Why it didn’t get chosen: This is another script I considered for the top 5. But I would say the logline falls into the category of “intriguing but not oh-my-god-I-have-to-read-this-now” worthy. Believe me, I know that coming up with an oh-my-god-I-have-to-read-this-now movie idea is hard. But you work so hard on these scripts and then you put them up against all these other ideas that are floating around, and people only have so much time to read stuff. So if that idea doesn’t scream “movie” to them, it’s a risk. It’s a risk of time. Because maybe it is a good script. But if it isn’t, then the reader just wasted their time reading something that was going to be a hard sell in the first place. For this reason, I would advise that these writers tell us, in their logline, what the sinister intentions are. That seems like the most unique aspect of the concept, and this a logline light on uniqueness. So why not make it a little flashier to increase the number of reads it gets?

Title: DOLL. MISTRESS. WIFE.
Genre: Drama / Erotic thriller
Logline: A frustrated air-con salesman installs a love doll at a secret rooming house, but finds the real women in his life increasingly unstable.
WHY YOU SHOULD READ: Carson’s most recent newsletter bemoaned the current dearth of thrillers in the vein of Fatal Attraction. Well, look no further than this character-driven script with a unique conceit, suspense sequences influenced by the likes of De Palma and Argento, and terrific roles for two Asian actresses. Indeed, the Mistress and Wife became crucial to my original concept as I soon realized that a ‘Man and Doll’ story by itself would be too static. Ultimately, DOLL. MISTRESS. WIFE. strives for edge-of-the-seat entertainment wrapped up in a literary, cinematic and philosophical cocktail with a dash of personal experience thrown in for good measure!

Why it didn’t get chosen: I keep seeing this mistake over and over in loglines. It’s easily fixable with a quick logline consult (carsonreeves1@gmail.com). The first half of the logline doesn’t connect organically to the second half. An air-conditioning salesman installs a love doll at a room house, which makes us think we’re going to find out how that affects the rooming house. Instead, the logline takes a sharp 180 degree turn and starts talking about the women in the salesman’s life. Where is the connective tissue that links these two halves? It’s not there and, as a result, the logline sounds nonsensical. I hate to see this because writers are shooting themselves in the foot by simply not getting logline feedback. And it doesn’t even have to be from me. I’m sure any one of the commenters here on Scriptshadow could’ve helped with this one because it was so obvious.

What do you guys think? Did I miss out on a gem here? If you liked any of the loglines, I’m sure the writers would be more than happy to send you a link to their scripts. Let me know what you think of the pitches in the comments. And let me know if you want me to do another one of these because I have a ton of entries that didn’t make it.

AND KEEP WORKING ON THOSE FIRST ACTS! GET THOSE PAGES WRITTEN!

Is today’s thriller the best script of the 2021 Black List so far?

Genre: Thriller
Premise: A ride-share driver who’s just purchased his dream car, a 1969 Ford Mercury Cyclone, goes on the Tinder date from hell.
About: Today’s writer, Stefan Jaworski, started writing for TV in Sweden. He has made a few inroads writing here in the U.S., with the TV series, “Those Who Kill,” and the 2021 film, “The Devil Below,” about a group of amateur adventurers who specialize in exploring remote and forsaken places. This script of his landed on last year’s Black List.
Writer: Stefan Jaworski
Details: 92 pages

We are BACK on the script review train, checking out a top 10 script from last year’s Black List. I know the writer has been at it for a while as my files show he had a script in circulation all the way back in 2010. This is a long game, everyone! Gotta keep at it.

[NOTE: Spoilery summary – you should probably read the script first!]

Our 20-something lead is Michael Smith, who we meet buying a car, a 1969 Ford Mercury Cyclone, from an old man. I don’t know much about cars but according to our characters’ conversation, the Cyclone was the fastest car you could buy in 1969.

Michael then texts his date, Laura, that he’s coming to pick her up. Laura’s someone he met on Tinder (or Hinge, or Bumble) and they seem to have a great connection. He picks her up in Beverly Hills and they immediately begin some meet-cute dialogue, talking about what sort of superheroes they would be.

After they picnic at Griffith Park, Michael and Laura are engaged in another lovey-dovey conversation while on the freeway when – BAM! – a black SUV rams them from behind. And then – BAM! – rams them again! Concurrently, Laura starts getting all these text-dings on her phone. Michael speeds off the highway and gets to a safe place and stops.

It’s here where Laura comes clean. She has a baaaaad ex-boyfriend. He’s threatened to kill her ever since she left him. He’d disappeared for a while so she thought she was free and clear but I guess not. Laura confides in Michael that she’ll never be able to ditch this guy. He’s too crazy. She’s been planning to escape to this town in Mexico. Maybe tonight needs to be that night.

She’s sorry she got him involved and demands Michael let her go and forget about all this. But Michael is not the kind of guy who leaves a damsel in distress. He will help her escape. What does she need? She’s got to go to three places, she says. Her real house (which is on Skid Row – NOT Beverly Hills), her sister’s, and a friend’s. She needs some personal things before she disappears forever.

But as soon as they’re on the road again, Laura’s ex, Jason, once again comes barreling into the picture, trying to kill them at every turn. When Jason sends a message that if Laura doesn’t surrender, he’s killing everybody she knows, Michael has no choice but to deliver her to Jason’s house.

They show up at the house, head inside, but there’s no Jason. That’s when Laura turns to him and apologizes. Apologize for what, Michael says. For what’s about to happen to you, she says. Michael hears sirens in the distance.

That’s when he realizes he’s been set up. He doesn’t know why. But he knows he has to make a choice in that moment that will change his life forever. And he decides to get in that 1969 Ford Mercury Cyclone… AND ESCAPE AT ALL COSTS. Little does Michael know, his problems are just beginning.

Okay, let’s talk about first acts since First Act March is still going. You probably noticed that, because of the setup, there was no way to first set up our main character’s world. We meet Michael buying his new car. And then we go straight to the date.

This is a good example of the basic challenges you encounter whenever you’re trying to follow a particular screenwriting blueprint. Every story is unique and therefore they don’t all fit the same beat-sheet.

In this case, you have to set up Michael’s world THROUGH DIALOGUE, specially the dialogue of this first date with Laura. That becomes the stand-in for being inside Michael’s world. The good news is that the situation is organic to that information being shared. This is the first meeting between these two. So it makes sense that they’d ask those kinds of questions.

We learn why Michael loves this car so much. That it has a strong connection to his family. We learn that he’s an Uber driver. We learn that he’s a loner and that online dating is new for him. Likewise, we learn things about Laura. In other words, if you can’t get one of these first act components into your screenplay, you have to find substitutions and do the best job you can.

The inciting incident (the SUV ramming them from behind) comes a little late – page 18. That’s even later than usual since the script is only 90 pages long. For a 90 page script, you probably want to hit your inciting incident between pages 10-12. However, the writing is really lean. There’s a lot of dialogue early. And the action lines are 1-2 lines long. So it certainly doesn’t feel like 18 pages have gone by. In fact, that’s a feather in the cap of the entire script, which is written in a really fast fun-to-read style.

We also get the refusal of the call. Michael is tasked with either helping Laura escape or forgetting this night ever existed. And, at first, he decides not to help. But then, of course, he can’t leave her in danger. So he decides to go on the journey. That launches us into the second act, where we get this clever 3-step process that Laura must first execute before she can leave.

I say “clever” because think about it. If all they have to do is get on the 405 south to Mexico, there ain’t a lot you can do plot-wise. By forcing them to zig-zag around Los Angeles, you give the characters more opportunities to run into the bad guys.

In my last newsletter, I spoke about Richter scale moments. Here’s what I said: “The idea behind Richter scale storytelling is simple. Every script needs big moments, moments that “register” with the reader. These are your Richter scale moments, where you hit your reader with plot beats that register 7.0, 8.0, and 9.0 on the Richter scale.”

“Mercury” is one of the best examples I’ve seen of having consistently strong Richter scale moments. Spoilers follow. We get the arrival of the car-bashing crazy ex-boyfriend (8.0 on the Richter scale). We get the moment 40 pages in where we realize she’s set him up (9.0). We get the moment where the mob makes him retrieve what Laura and Jason stole from them (7.5). One after another these Richter scale moments keep coming. It’s great.

Another thing Jaworski does well is he sets up and pays off every single beat of the story. Nothing feels random. For example, there’s this moment in the script where the mob has told Michael that if he doesn’t find their money by sunrise, they’re killing him. And he has NO IDEA where Laura and Jason (who have the money) are. So what does he do?

Jaworski subtly sets up several different times, early on, that Micheal is an Uber driver. And, after Jason rammed into them and Laura came up with that fake plan to get her stuff from her place, she had to confess to him that she didn’t really live in Beverly Hills. She lived near Skid Row and took an Uber to Beverly Hills where he picked her up. He asks why she lied to him and she says, “I was afraid you wouldn’t like me.”

When Michael remembers this moment, he realizes he can use his knowledge and back door access to some Uber information to find out where her Uber originated from, which gives him a destination. There were a ton of moments like this, which were really well thought-through.

And I can hear some of you already saying, “Well, that’s not *that* well thought-through, Carson.” No no no no no. TRUST ME. Read ten other random scripts from this Black List and find me one that puts 10% of the effort into setting up and paying off plot beats that this did. You won’t find one. This has been my biggest beef with the 2021 Black List. Every single script is messy. This is the one script where you can tell the writer actually put in the work.

It’s for all these reasons that, as of this moment, Mercury is the best script of the 2021 Black List. I highly recommend it.

Script link: Mercury

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

What I learned: There’s a moment early on in the car (before all the chaos starts) where a song comes on the radio. Here’s how it’s described: “She blinks when the radio shifts to a melancholy POP-ROCK SONG. That echoes loneliness and longing. A favorite of Laura’s.” This is how you introduce music in scripts. Do not give us actual song titles. Everybody likes different music. You may love Britney Spears’ amazing breakout single, “Baby One More Time.” But for others, it is like listening to audio lava. So, instead, give us the genre and the mood of the song, like Jaworski does here. That’s enough to convey the mood you’re looking for.

Genre: Sci-Fi/Drama/Thriller
Premise: (from Black List ) In the year 2065, a fiery teenager with a wild imagination, her paraplegic mom, and their clueless robot struggle to navigate the post-apocalypse; but when the mother’s wheelchair breaks, the trio must venture out into the dangerous “outside” for a chance to survive.
About: Today’s script finished with 11 votes on last year’s “best scripts of the year” Black List. Screenwriter Kryzz Gautier has written and directed a lot of short films. Her biggest credit up to this point is writing the Bioshock 4 video game.
Writer: Kryzz Gautier
Details: 114 pages

We’re going BACK to the Black List. This time for a little first act introspection. Today’s script takes on all of the challenges we’ve discussed about first acts and because the writer seems new to the medium, things get messy. But that’s okay because we’re all just trying to get better here. So let’s take a look!

Wheels Come Off follows 16 year old, Manoella Cortez, who lives in a city I can only assume is New York, a couple of decades after some massive catastrophic event has left the city in shambles.

Manoella spends most of her days with her 2 foot tall robot, Tony, scavenging apartments for food. Sometimes this means stealing from the dead. Sometimes it means stealing from the living. Which Manoella doesn’t feel bad about because she’s got to support her wheelchair-bound mother, Carla.

But when they run out of food, the two must go into the city together to try and accomplish a major food score. Unfortunately, they steal from the leader of a gang, Erick, who makes it his mission to find and kill both mother and daughter (and robot).

Along the way, our heroes meet up with a group of disadvantaged people (one has cerebral palsy, one is deaf, one is blind, etc.) and Manoella falls in love with their leader, a young woman named Ari.

But when Carla’s health deteriorates due to an injury, they must locate the last person she wants to speak to, Manoella’s father, who ran the robot company that may have caused the apocalypse. The extent to which Manoella cares for Carla will be put to the ultimate test when evil Erick figures out where they’re going and is determined to stop them.

Okay, let’s talk about what I liked here. I like that this is based on real life. Kryzz says on the title page that this script is inspired by her real life struggles while taking care of her disabled mother. It’s some of the oldest, yet, most valuable, writing advice you’ll hear: Write what you know. Because when you write what you know, you write specifically. “Specific” is the opposite of “general” which means you avoid writing a generic story.

I also liked the choice to make Manoella and Carla outsized personalities. Both of them were opinionated and talked a lot, which meant a lot of their dialogue was packed with energy.

I also felt that, once Kryzz got out of the first act, the script became way more relaxed and free-flowing, which made the pages easier to read.

And that’s where I want to focus today’s review because the weakest part of the script, by far, is the first act. And since we’re talking about first acts this month, it’s a good first act to dissect. The combination of setting everything up as well as not understanding the screenwriting medium made for a bumpy ride that, if I wasn’t reviewing this script, I would’ve checked out by page 10.

Let’s start with the first line of action:

“A pair of legs sneak past wheels then exit an apartment.”

Take a hard look at this line because there’s something wrong with it. See if you can tell me what it is.

Did you figure it out?

The most important detail in the line is left out. What do the legs look like? Are they muscular? Thin? Long? Stubby? Hairy? Smooth? A man’s legs? A woman’s? Old? Young? Any one of those adjectives would’ve given us a much better feel for what was happening. But those details were left out. And this is a common occurrence with beginner screenwriters. The writer assumes the reader can read their mind.

We don’t know what’s in your head unless you tell us.

I must’ve given this advice five times this month on script consultations. Writers continue to think the reader can read their mind. I’m not saying you have to detail everything. I’m saying whatever the most important elements in a scene are, you need to detail those.

Think about it this way. The people watching this movie will be able to answer that question right? They’ll know whether the legs are muscular, thin, long, stubby, hairy, smooth, a man’s, or a woman’s. So why does the reader not get this information? The point of a screenplay is to detail what people are going to see on the screen.

What’s so ironic about this mistake is that it’s the opposite of the writer’s other major mistake in the first act, which is that everything is overwritten. We routinely run into 8 line paragraphs (Try to stay at 3 or less). And there’s a lot of description detailing the same things over and over again (that Manoella steals things from apartments).

We don’t get to the inciting incident until page 28, when Erick catches Manoella stealing a robot battery from his place and vows to kill her and her mom. As we’ve learned this week, you want your inciting incident to happen between pages 12-15 if possible.

Now this is where things get interesting because I suspect Kryzz might push back and say her inciting incident was when Manoella and her mom realize they’re running out of food and have to go find more.

An inciting incident, to me, is an event that is big and has major consequences. I don’t buy that having four days left of food when you’ve already proven to be good at finding food to be a big event with major consequences. I do consider the most dangerous person in the city vowing to kill you a big event with major consequences.

Waiting that long to introduce the story’s most important plot point puts you in a bind because it means you’re setting up character and world for the 27 pages that precede it. And while that may be great for you, the writer, since you have alllllll this space to casually set up your world, it’s terrible for the reader, who is impatiently waiting for the cool stuff to happen.

One of the reasons we stick to these stringent page checkmarks is because it forces you to set up your story faster than you want to. I know that sounds like a bad thing but it’s actually a good thing. Because when you have to set up something in a short amount of time, you think about what’s necessary and what isn’t.

I’ve said this a million times but what makes the pros so much better than the amateurs is that they can do what you do, but in half the pages. Cause anybody can set up a world with enough time. It’s the pros who figure out how to do it quickly and still be effective.

That’s a big part of what writing first acts is. It’s consolidating a bunch of information into a less-than-optimal amount of scenes, and somehow still doing it effectively and entertainingly.

If I’m being 100% honest, Wheels Come Off feels like a script that, five years ago, agents would’ve said, “You’re not ready yet.” There are too many beginner tells (oversized paragraphs, music cues, dream sequences, dual-line dialogue). But I guess now the Black List is prioritizing certain things over script quality that are propping these scripts up and it’s confusing to aspiring writers who have been told that a lot of this stuff isn’t okay.

It’s not that the script is bad. It’s actually quite heartfelt in places. But it reads no different than any of the Amateur Showdown scripts we’ve seen on the site. So I can’t endorse the script. Like almost all of the 2021 Black List scripts I’ve read, it’s messy. It doesn’t feel like the writer has a good grasp on the craft yet.

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

What I learned: For those who don’t understand why dream sequences are frowned upon in screenwriting, dream sequences are great for directing and actual production. They allow the director to create striking stylized sequences that are fun to look at. But on the page, all these sequences do is fill up space with words and, at worst, feel pretentious. We can’t see the striking images nor hear the intense soundtrack that make these scenes work. I’m not saying never use them. But in a perfect world, you’d keep them out of your spec script and then, when you get hired for the actual movie, put them in there.