By far, one of the biggest mistakes I see amateur writers making is that they’re NOT WRITING MOVIES. They’re writing the screenplay versions of novels. That is to say, the story only works in written form. It isn’t meant to be put up on the screen because there’s nothing cinematic about it.
How do you know if you’re writing a movie? A “movie” – as I’m defining it for today’s article – is a concept based on a pre-existing model that has proven to make money for Hollywood. A submarine flick, for example. Bunch of people in deep waters, usually in war time, dealing with some sort of enemy. That’s a “movie” because you can point to successful templates of the story in the past. Das Boot, U-571, The Hunt for Red October, Crimson Tide.
On the flip side, a screenplay about a former submarine captain who turns his home into an Air B&B so he can go on a road trip across America? Not a movie. And yet I come across a lot of scripts with that kind of DNA. The writers are passionate about the characters and the subject matter. But there’s nothing in the script where you can say, “There were several successful movies with a similar setup.”
The reason I bring this up is because most writers shoot themselves in the foot before they’ve even written their title page. Their idea is faulty because it isn’t a movie. So it doesn’t matter what they write. I know that sounds crazy. But anyone who’s read a lot of screenplays will tell you the same thing. If your concept isn’t a movie, you can rewrite a script a thousand times and nothing’s going to come of it.
To better understand what I’m saying, I’m going to give you five examples of “non-movie” ideas and five examples of “movie” ideas. The great thing about all the mistakes Hollywood has made is that we can use their failures as data. They provide us with valuable information about what works and what doesn’t. Let’s start with five movies that should’ve never been made in the first place.
Lucy in the Sky – Lucy is the Sky is the ultimate embodiment of a non-movie. It’s about a female astronaut who has an out-of-body experience when she’s up on the shuttle, comes home, and has trouble dealing with it. Where’s the comparable movie that tells us this is going to work? There isn’t any. But there’s an even bigger issue at play here, and it seems to be present with all non-movie scripts. Vagueness. The concept lacks focus. You can watch this trailer 20 times and still not know what the movie is about. And that’s something good writers should be able to recognize on the page. There’s no clear concept. There’s no goal. There are no stakes. The time frame is flexible because nothing needs to get done.
The Book of Henry – A cancer-ridden kid dies and leaves the blueprint to a mother and son to murder the bad neighbor next door. This one is a little less clear-cut because you do have some movie-like elements. We have a villain (the bad neighbor who abuses his daughter). And we have people who want to save that girl, giving the story a clear goal. But why do you need a kid dying of cancer to jump-start this story? And where in cinema history does an 8 year old kid help his mother murder someone? There’s no template for that because it’s a nonsensical setup. Which is why people were confused and didn’t go to the movie.
Hologram for a King – Hologram for a King also has some movie-like elements. You’ve got a flawed character going out on a journey to land a big client. This is not the worst setup for a film. But you run into problems when your hero’s goal isn’t relatable. The hero here goes to Saudi Arabia to sell a hologram technology to a king? How are we able to connect with that? It’s too far outside our everyday existence for us to relate to. But the bigger issue is what we’ve been talking about all along. Where’s the comp here? Where is the movie that’s like Hologram for a King that worked? There is none. So they shouldn’t have been surprised when only ten people showed up to the theater.
Aloha – “Aloha” was a trap script. It’s one of these ideas that you can convince yourself is similar to pre-existing templates. There’s a man and a woman, and some comedy. So it’s a romantic comedy right? A small part of it is. But the main focus of the movie is launching a military satellite and placating the local Hawaiian population who doesn’t support the launch. I’ll ask you again. Where is the comparable movie? Can you think of any movie in history that has a satellite launch and local people demonstrating against it? No comp = uncharted waters = a rambling unfocused story = worst box office of that writer-director’s career.
Bad Times at El Royale – Bad Times gets about as close to the line of being a “movie” as a non-movie can get. You’ve got a cinematic location. It’s contained. Things go badly. People die. These are all things you see in movies. But here’s the problem. There was no singular plot element that the movie revolved around. Usually, you write something like Knives Out or Murder on the Orient Express where someone dies and everyone tries to solve the murder. This setup is as classic a setup as there is. And yet Drew Goddard overthought everything and created this zig-zagging haphazard group of characters without any real purpose or plan. It was THIS decision that made this a non-movie. One of the primary ingredients for a movie template is that there be a focused protagonist objective.
Now that we know what a movie isn’t, let’s look at what a movie is. Had any of these scripts fallen on my desk, I would have passed them up to a producer. You may notice that a few of these examples aren’t great movies. That’s the point. When you nail a movie template, you don’t have to nail the execution. The template does most of the work for you.
Suicide Squad – A bunch of bad guys have to team up to achieve an objective together. This template has been around for as long as Sunset Boulevard has been around. We’ve seen it with Con Air, Fast and Furious, The Dirty Dozen, later that year with Rogue One. One of the most powerful things you can have in the back of your script’s pocket is a list of similar films that did great at the box office. Now I already hear some of you saying, “Well I don’t want to write derivative sh*t Carson!” I’m not saying you have to write derivative sh*t. You have to find something that has worked in the past and come up with your own spin on it.
A Star is Born – I included this one because, in a vacuum, it could be argued it’s a non-movie idea. Two people fall in love. Tragedy occurs. That’s just characters going through life. But, remember, it isn’t so much the hook we’re focused on today. We’re focused on PREVIOUS MOVIES that have used a similar template and been successful. Hollywood has been using the tragic love story all the way back since, what? Romeo and Juliet? It’s a formula that works. And it works even better if you can add a large backdrop. Titanic. Casablanca. Here, it’s worldwide fame and success. It gets a little harder if there are no other unique elements in the story, but it can still work (Love Story).
Rocketman and Bohemian Rhapsody – I wouldn’t get caught dead watching one of these movies. They’re not my thing. But as talking points in today’s article, it doesn’t get better than this. Music biopics are a Hollywood staple. It’s one of the sub-genres they know how to market best. They get glitz and glamour, they get entertainment, they get song and dance. That’s their bread and butter. Which is why almost all of these music biopics do well. I didn’t even realize that Rocketman was a few million shy of 100 million. That’s how sneaky successful these things are. And again: It’s about recognizing a template that Hollywood understands. If you send them something they don’t understand? They’re going to say ‘no.’ And yet I see writers banging their heads against the Bel Air gates with obscure movie ideas that nobody in their right mind would make.
The Equalizer – Retired guy with a gun. Hollywood likes anybody with a gun. But they especially like these retired guys with them. It’s interesting from a story perspective (does he still got it?). And it allows studios to find vehicles for actors who have passed the half-century mark. This is the most obvious example of the “template” approach. But don’t let that scare you. There are a million variations of this idea that can be explored.
A Quiet Place – “Family in peril” horror movies. If you put a family (with some fractured components) in a bad situation and they have to stick together to defeat a horrifying enemy, your narrative isn’t going to get any cleaner than that. A lot of people thought “Us” was sort of a weird concept. But why did it work? Because it was a “family in peril” horror movie. And the reality is, most horror concepts work well since horror is the easiest genre to market. But that doesn’t mean you can do anything you want. Stick to the ones that have the best track record. A group of teens (or 20-something) out in a remote area getting stalked by something. A girl or woman gets possessed by something. A group of people get stuck in a scary house. Find slight variations on these templates (like the upcoming “Incident at Fort Bragg,” which follows the only government sanctioned exorcism of a female soldier) and you’ll be in good shape.
Now let me be clear about something. There will always be outliers. Before American Beauty came out, there was no template for something like that working. The Martian was a gamble. La La Land was unique. Wonder was a surprise hit. To a certain degree, Get Out was a risk. Nobody was doing social issues horror before Jordan Peele. So if you truly think you have the outlier script, I’m not going to stop you from writing it. But if you are tired of looking at Hollywood from the outside-in, you may want to start writing scripts based on pre-established successful templates. It doesn’t mean you’re selling out. In fact, a good writer will twist one of these templates just enough that their concept feels original. And if you start writing these template scripts regularly, I guarantee you you’ll break in faster than if you’re writing a bunch of Lucy in the Sky with the Hologram Kings.
