You know how it works. Lots of people fought to be included in High Concept Showdown. Hundreds didn’t make it. Shall those writers go on for the rest of their lives never knowing why they weren’t chosen? NOT HERE ON SCRIPTSHADOW! We’re taking five submissions that didn’t make it and explaining why. Hopefully, you can use this information to improve your next submission. Let’s begin!
Title: Call of Judy
Genre: An eye-popping Action Adventure with real heart
Logline: When a kid wins First Play of a Next-Gen VR-Experience but gets lost in its digital limbo, his technophobe Mom must complete four bespoke games they were due to play together to find him.
Why You Should Read: This idea came to me fully formed. My son plays Xbox for hours (and hours), especially since lockdown, and he’s monosyllabic while online.
I’ve been known to play Call of Duty or GTA but my wife hates it ALL so I wrote it through her eyes.
Judy experiences the jolts her son gets from playing Xbox – but amplified massively. These two player games were created for Judy and her son, from a psych quiz but her son filled hers in so everything is askew.
Being it fully immersive VR, Judy’s inside each game, so those jolts are super visceral. And by playing 4 games, it opens up contrasting worlds of eye candy.
There’s endless fun riffing of several game genres but the search for her son packs an emotional punch that hits hardest.
Analysis: I occasionally see people play with the genre label, like David’s entry does. While this can be fun for the writer, in my experience, it indicates a bad script is coming. This goes back to the age-old notion that good writers don’t need bells and whistles. They don’t need a big crazy font for the title of their script. They don’t need to write a bunch of asides to the reader. They don’t need to invent their own genre. All they care about is telling a good story. To that end, one genre is preferable. You can get away with two (Comedy/Horror). But you should probably stop there.
As for the logline itself, I’m not up to date on video game lingo. So when I see “First Play,” capitalized, I’m not sure what it’s supposed to mean. Is that a game? Or is it a known term in the gaming world. “He got First Play of Red Redemption 2.” Capitalized words that aren’t typically capitalized tend to confuse me.
I’m into VR stuff so I liked that. I’m not sure I like the phrase “digital limbo.” It’s a murky way of saying what you’re trying to say, which is that he gets lost in the game. You don’t want any haze hovering over your logline. You want to make it as easy to understand as possible. I like that his mom is a technophobe. Some nice irony there. “Bespoke” is an odd word in this context and took me a minute to figure out. Anything that slows down a logline is a bad thing. And, finally, the central task itself isn’t very interesting. Based on what you’ve told us, the mom is going to be sitting in front of a TV playing video games for the 2 hour running time. Is that the movie?
This logline is a good example of how important each word and phrase in a logline is. The wrong word can send the reader off in a completely different direction than what you intended. I would encourage David to focus on clarity in the next go-around.
Title: Viewers
Genre: Sci-fi thriller.
Logline: After the CIA remote-viewer(psychic) program is dissolved due to a mission gone awry, an ex-member of the force comes across information about a Russian spy recruiting retirees. With nothing to lose, he puts together a rag-tag team to help hunt down the spy and prove to his previous employers that his best days are still ahead of him.
Why You Should Read: None
Analysis: The first thing I notice about this logline is that it’s long. A long logline does not mean the logline will be bad. But the more seasoned a writer gets, the better they get at writing loglines, and one of the things they learn to do is to keep the logline tight. Again, this isn’t a logline killer. It’s just a little red flag. “After the CIA remote-viewer (psychic) program is dissolved…” Okay, this is a red flag. Putting something in parenthesis is a major no-no in loglines. Also, the word ‘psychic’ seems to be an important detail. So why you’d relegate it to parenthesis, I’m not sure. From there, we get a lot of common logline words and phrasing. “Ex-member of the force,” “Russian spy,” “rag-tag team,” “hunt down,” “that his best days are still ahead of him.” I know this is hard, guys. You’ve got this very tiny amount of space to convey all this important information and the majority of those words are going to be common ones. But that’s why you need to make the key moments in the logline stand out. You need key specific phrases (“dream heist” from Inception, for example) that differentiate your idea from everything else. Without any differentiating elements, it’s just a bunch of words we’ve already seen before.
Title: The Bone Butcher’s Cosmic Slaughterhouse
Genre: Sci-fi/Horror
Logline: A couple of ex-addict, rock star has-beens discover an extraterrestrial portal allowing them to relive past moments and change their greatest regrets, but the new choices they make and a nasty creature threatens to make them pay for it with their blood.
Why You Should Read: This is not a wacky idea by an undisciplined writer! I have to say that right off the bat. The script started off as trying to be a very disciplined, marketable “It Follows” meets “Alien” with a kick-ass, high-concept engine. Well… that engine took over and renamed the script. Upon finishing an early draft, I was sure the story was too ambitious. Ex-addict, deeply flawed protags, fantastical, outer space set pieces, awesome creature designs, too much blood, cosmic music concepts (Don’t worry it’s not a musical!), and people willingly getting gruesomely torn apart by a black hole.
Yet then somehow, this script became a finalist in a couple sci-fi and horror contests as well as taking 2nd place in one. And my cynical writing group actually liked it. So I kept tinkering and polishing and getting feedback. Growing this thing like a cosmic chia pet for this very moment. I truly appreciate this opportunity and would relish in even the smallest amount of that amazing Scriptshadow feedback I’ve read over the years. Fingers crossed.
Analysis: While I wouldn’t call this an “everything and the kitchen sink” logline, I might call it an “everything and the slightly smaller bathroom sink” logline. Let’s go through it piece by piece. “A couple of ex-addict, rock star has-beens…”. So far, so good. I have a good feel for these characters. The ‘ex-addict’ feels organic to their old job, so it’s not just thrown in there to make the characters sound more interesting (something I encounter a lot in loglines). “… discover an extraterrestrial portal…”. Okay, we’ve just taken a huge leap. Whenever I see “portals,” I know there’s potential for the story to go sideways. I’ve read all the portal scripts, guys. It seems to be permission for a lot of writers to go to Wackyville. So, now, I’m on guard.
“…allowing them to relive past moments and change their greatest regrets…”. Okay, you’ve officially lost me. I distinctly remember having to read this part of the logline three times. It’s not written as elegantly as it could be. Also, it never works in loglines (or in scripts, for that matter) when there’s more than one objective. “They need to do this AND this.” You want a clean narrative. That means ONE thing. In Jaws, they’re not trying to kill a shark AND fix a broken dam. They’re just trying to kill the shark. “…but the new choices they make and a nasty creature…” At this point, there’s nothing that the logline could’ve done to reel me back in. But adding a creature to the mix definitely made things worse. It just feels like there’s too much going on at this point.
The good news is, people helped with this logline in the comments. And this is the new one they came up with: “A downtrodden couple, drowning in regrets, discover an extraterrestrial portal that allows them to change their past sins, but unwittingly unleash the portal’s blood-thirsty gatekeeper.” This logline is WAY better and shows you what a difference a well-written logline can make over a badly written logline. Which is why you should get a logline consultation from me! (E-mail carsonreeves1@gmail.com with subject line: “Logline Consult.”). Would this new logline have gotten the script into the High Concept Showdown? Probably not. But while I’d say the first logline put the script in the top 60 percentile, this new logline put it in the top 10 percentile. That’s a huge jump.
Title: High School Samurai
Genre: Martial Arts/Action
Logline: When a bullied, high school delinquent discovers that his local kendo dojo is a secret base for teenage samurai, he must fight with them to protect his family and the city of LA from an invading army of yōkai.
Why You Should Read: Yōkai are demons, ghosts and monsters of Japanese folklore. There are many tales of these creatures terrorizing the people of Japan during the feudal era, and even more tales of the brave samurai who faced them in battle. This script is one such tale, set in modern time where the yōkai have expanded their terror to the American west coast, and it’s up to the worst possible samurai to stop them; a troubled youth who lacks honor, loyalty and discipline. He must learn these values if he’s to protect those he loves, all while navigating the other great terror that is high school.
With splashes of Buffy, Kill Bill and Ninja Turtles, as well as the writing essentials like GSU and great characters, this is the kind of popcorn movie you’d enjoy with your best friends on a Saturday night at the local cinema. So kick back, play some koto music, and forget the worries of the world. This is “High School Samurai,” and I hope you enjoy it. Arigato!
Analysis: This one got some love in the comments. I love the title, “High School Samurai.” It rolls off the tongue. But when I got to his dojo being “a secret base for teenage samurai,” that’s a moment where you either buy in or step back. And I stepped back. I’m not sure why. It might be a preference thing – that pesky “personal taste” that gets in the way of so many great loglines. But I tried to imagine a bunch of teenaged samurai in my head and my head wasn’t cooperating with that image.
With that said, it was a big enough idea to still be in the running, which leads us to the second half of the logline, which ends with the words, “an invading army of yōkai.” I don’t know what yokai are. And that’s the thing with loglines. If the reader is on the fence, one wrong step can be the finishing blow. Now, astute readers of the site will point out that, in the very first sentence of the “Why You Should Read” section, the writer explains what yōkai are. But here’s the thing. Cause I remember this exact moment. I had a few hundred of these things to get through so I had to move fast. As soon as the nail was placed in the coffin, I was on to the next one. And this situation is not unique to me by any means. Nobody has time. Everyone’s moving on as quickly as possible. Now, do I think this logline is something the writer shouldn’t pursue? I wouldn’t go that far. People in the comments liked this so there’s obviously something to it. For my own taste, however, it wasn’t for me.
Title: KINGDOM COME
Genre: Sci-Fi Action
Logline: When a determined fleet admiral plans to ambush insurgent forces at a deep-space military base-planet, the base’s mechanic steps up to lead ground operations on the planet’s surface, and must step in when her admiral mother decides to take out the insurgency by any means necessary.
Why You Should Read: As a sci-fi fan, I’ve often thought about how galactic empires could manage to oversee bases and colonies spread across entire star systems. How likely is it that soldiers and other staff stationed at a base will be ready to fight, or even want to fight, a war they’ve been waiting years, maybe even decades to participate in? When they call, who responds? KINGDOM COME follows one individual who steps up when nobody else will, and she doesn’t stop until the job gets done, no matter where it takes her. You might know me in the Scriptshadow comments as CCM30. I’ve read and critiqued many scripts in this community over the years, and now it is my pleasure to offer up a work of my own.
Analysis: There were a couple of things working against this entry. For starters, this is a big science-fiction movie. Big science-fiction movies cost lots of money to produce. So, already, you’re at a disadvantage. When studios do make these movies, they hedge their bets on pre-existing intellectual property. If Warner Brothers is given the choice to spend 200 million dollars on a Dune movie or 200 million dollars on an original movie called, “The Divinity of Zal’Nahr” which one do you think is the more financially responsible choice. The reason it’s so important to internalize this is because it’s a question that filters all the way down the pyramid to the tiniest movies that the industry makes. If you’re a production company with a million dollars to spend, do you spend it making a horror movie or a drama? If you want to stay in business, it’s a horror movie. So you need to be thinking about your potential buyers when you’re coming up with an idea.
With that said, there is a caveat. And that caveat works like this. The more expensive a movie is, the better the idea has to be. Now, of course, “better” is subjective in a lot of ways. But one metric you can tap into is the ‘originality quotient.’ If the logline consists of a lot of generic words or things we’ve seen in other movies, it’s easier for the reader to say ‘no.’ Look at all the key words in this logline. “Fleet,” “admiral,” “ambush,” “insurgent,” “deep-space,” “military base,” “mechanic,” “ground operations,” “admiral mother,” “insurgency.” There isn’t a single unique word in the bunch. It’s all basic stuff. This results in a logline that doesn’t have the “flash factor.” Because the words are so generic, we imagine a generic movie. That’s why I didn’t pick this logline.
