Last week we had a contest for Best First Page. This was the winner, which I’m going to review for you right now!

Was The First Horseman my pick for best first page? You’ll have to wait til Thursday for that answer, when I rank the five contenders. Before we get into today’s analysis, let’s take another look at the winning page.

So, why did this page win? What’s going on that separated it from so many other submissions? And what can you learn from it so that you can improve your own first pages? Because let’s remember why I held this showdown: You need to get that first page right.  The reader is hyper-critical at this stage since they’re trying to determine if they’re reading yet another garbage script or they got lucky and stumbled onto a special writer.

Let’s start with the setting for The First Horseman. You’d be surprised at just how often scripts begin in familiar territory. We’re in the middle of New York for yet another romantic comedy. We’re trapped in a small town for a frustrated coming-of-age film. We’re flying down the streets in a car chase. We’re in a dangerous town in Afghanistan for yet another war movie.

The problem when you drop us into familiar territory is that we go into “auto-read” mode. If you’re going to give us something that doesn’t require any brain power, we’re not going to offer any brain power. Which means we’re now reading each page in a sort of familiar daze.

But here, with First Horseman, we’re on an island that I’ve never heard of before. We’re in the Yellow Sea, also unfamiliar. And, to add some spice to that setup, we’re walking around in an unnaturally colored green mist. All within four lines (one slug line and a 3-line paragraph). That’s a strong opening.

The next part doesn’t disappoint either. We’ve got scientists in Hazmut suits. That immediately creates intrigue. Why are they in the suits? What is it they’re doing here?

We often talk about hooking the reader with a shocking inciting incident by page 12 (the alien tri-pods showing up in War of the Worlds). But the hooking should actually start much earlier. Because, early on, you’re just trying to get the reader TO READ THE NEXT LINE.

Who cares about the inciting incident if you can’t even make that next line compelling?

After setting up the unique location and the intriguing suits, we get this unexpected development. These hazmat-suited scientists are ensnaring… rats? That’s strange. I was expecting something more traditional. Whenever I see writers give me something unexpected, I credit them. Cause it means I’m not getting the same movie I’ve gotten a million times before.

From there, just halfway into THE VERY FIRST PAGE, something catastrophic happens. The rat bites one of the suited men, exposing flesh. From the reactions of both scientists, we know this is a terrible thing. Which means we’re riveted despite being just 24 lines into the script. That’s great stuff.

Let me also highlight that the writer is never going above three lines per paragraph. And he usually stays at two or less. Not only is this a good practice in general. But when you’re starting your script and have little-to-no-dialogue, there’s a danger that the reader sees the dreaded “wall of text” and shuts the script before he’s even started. Believe me, the wall-of-text-script-close is a real thing.

So the writer wisely mitigates that issue by keeping the paragraphs lean, ensuring that your eyes will move down the page without it ever feeling like work.

Now, let me make something very clear here, because I don’t talk about this enough. Just because you write lean paragraphs does not mean your script will be good. It’s 20% of the solution. The other 80% is writing a good story. The main reason our eyes are moving down the page is because the writer has set up an intriguing scenario and is executing it well. The lean paragraphs just help all that slide down easier.

I liked the ruthlessness of Scientist 2 immediately killing Scientist 1 but it wasn’t the only choice the writer had. He could’ve drawn more suspense out of this moment. The first scientist could’ve pleaded for his life. Maybe created a distraction (unhook the cage full of rats and throw them at Scientist 2?) that allowed him to make a run for it. But that’s down to the individual writer and I think the ruthlessness of shooting him right away created its own level of impact that hits the reader hard.

What I’m saying is, either option could’ve worked.

And, finally, the writer gives us one last satisfying beat when we watch Scientist 2 go back to work as if nothing happened. That creates another level of intrigue. What’s going on here that, after someone is shot dead, you don’t even begin the protocol to deal with it?

It’s a really strong first page and, for all of the reasons I listed above, a worthy winner to the contest. Hopefully, we’ll get to review the full script here on the site one day!  Let’s hear why you guys like it.

Great job to the writer, Finn Morgan!