Feature Film

There’s a killer opening hook to this screenplay. All of the elements you could possibly want in an Action hook are present. The incidental characters we meet in this scene are nonetheless sharp-tongued and funny thanks to some truly enjoyable and well-crafted dialogue. The action is described skillfully and indicates the strange excitement of the rising island, and the potential, mysterious horror of the fact that something seems to be alive on it. There is destruction, violence and mystery in addition to humor, humanity and drama. When the scene ends, I was thinking, “What the heck is going on?” – not in a confused way, but in a way that made me turn the page to the next scene as quickly as possible to find out. Highly effective work in this first scene!

The set up and the first act break hit the perfect beats between inciting incident and the character’s call to action. Caleb, the story’s central character is developed in such a way that his willingness, even if it is reluctant willingness, to embark on what may seem like a fool’s errand makes perfect logical sense. He is a drunk, a gambler, and an all around miserable failure that happens to have a deep knowledge of mythology and lore of legendary “lost” cities. His desperation is what makes him the perfect candidate for the job. Though the writer convincingly portrays Caleb as a bit of a sad sack, he also manages to make him somehow likeable, which is tantamount to this story working. His character begins in a place, also, that has the potential for a lot of improvement, redemption, or transformation over the course of the story arc. The inciting incident is John’s offer to take Caleb to the City of Caesar’s, and the act break comes when Caleb decides to take action and accept the offer. With all of this combined, the first act sets the story on its way with a strong push. The only thing I noticed on which the writer could have been clearer was the fact that John was preparing to film a show about the city for a network – I didn’t understand this until page 27, when they had already gotten on the plane to go.

When Amy is recruited to join the group, I felt a bit disappointed that the writer didn’t allow the audience to see how she was finally convinced at the moment John and Caleb give her the pitch. Instead the writer chooses to cut away at this moment to John’s admission that he chose Amy specifically for her and Caleb’s history. I think that her recruitment was stretched out a bit longer than necessary. Rather than showing Caleb her picture on the plane, it may have been more interesting from a dialogue and relationship standpoint to have John ambush him with Amy in the bar. This way, their dialogue could be relied upon to tell us their back-story, but to do so with greater emotional impact, and more powerful fireworks. Once they calmed down somewhat, I the writer could have shown us the pitch that convinces Amy to join the crew. The writer is using all of the right elements in these scenes; I just didn’t necessarily feel like he utilized them to their maximum effect. Rather than accomplishing her intro in two scenes, the writer takes three. Generally speaking, if you can achieve the same or better effect in fewer scenes, it’s good to do so. As a result of this sort of scene structure, it did feel as though it took the characters a bit too long to reach Brazil. As enjoyable as the team’s introductions were, and they definitely were, they should have been accomplished in a little bit less time.

As the crew arrives on the island, the action does indeed start to pick up quite enjoyably. When the story reaches its midpoint, a few developments have added some menace and some mystery to the proceedings. The writer has a great instinct for when to drop a few new dangling carrots into the story in order to keep the audience on its toes. For example, John and Stephen clearly have an ulterior motive for visiting this island. The writer gives stronger and stronger hints at this motive before finally using the reveal to great effect later. Also, the boat’s captain, in trying to bail out the leak fails to notice some scurrying figure(s) on the deck. This reminds us of the figures we glimpsed in the beginning and let us know that there was far more to come before the characters reached the end of their journey. And, finally, the crew discovers fresh corpses in the cave wearing U.S. Air Force uniforms. The writer simply did a lovely job keeping the action taut and suspenseful throughout the trickier sections of the second act, holding up the midpoint of the script with a dramatic turn in action to draw the story ever closer to the climax.

When Nick leaves the characters on the rock face above the lake to die, I was surprised by this turn of events. It seemed to come out of nowhere. Stephen, who disappeared in the cave, seemed to be the shifty one along with John. Nick was portrayed as an adventurer, but there was never too much of a hint that he was also ruthless. I think that the writer could have created a better lead-in to this moment than he did, so that it would have more of a feeling of pay-off when Nick gives into his character’s less desirable instincts. And whereas Nick’s character gained these characteristics later in the story, I felt that the writer also could have done more to bring some of the dimensionality he created for Caleb into the scenes on the island. I felt like certain aspects of his personality – his self-defeatism, his alcoholism – weren’t factored into his behavior after they landed. The action was intense and perfectly suited to a good, rollicking adventure story, but the characters were sometimes lost in the action.

Finally, I think it would have been fun to have learned a little more lore about the City of the Caesars than we do in this draft. The appearance of the creatures with “deep water gigantism” is fun, but it might have been cool for the ancient residents to have beefed up the proceedings with some good traps or something – anything to tie their lore with the action.

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TV Pilot

I thought that the writers chose an interesting subject matter on which to base this pilot. I think that the inner workings of a talent agency could definitely provide enough material to support a series. New clients and new projects have the potential to create endless story lines. The writers also provide us with Choate and Andover, both young people involved in the business, and their uncle who runs the agency as the primary characters in the pilot. I think that the dynamic definitely works between the characters and the setting, so overall, the writers are off to a good start.

Though this is the pilot, and we are tasked with getting to know the characters, the writers should take care to avoid awkwardness in providing exposition. I think that Andover’s failed attempt at comedy worked, because the broken suitcase distracted from the fact that we were being provided with back-story. However, I thought that Forest’s “How could I forget my famous niece Choate, soap star, future Oscar winner!” was quite awkward. This felt primed for exposition rather than a natural-sounding bit of dialogue from uncle to niece. I would suggest that the writers find a more casual way to introduce Choate to the audience. Even a simple, “How’s life for my little soap star?” sounds more natural. I felt the same when Forest says “And my unforgettable though not yet famous nephew, Andover!”

I was a bit confused that the kids didn’t know that Forest worked for the Brownstone talent agency, or that they had taken over the building. If Brownstone had tried to pitch representation to Choate several times, it seems likely that Michaela would have utilized the family connection to try to get her signed, and less likely that Forest wouldn’t have mentioned it and hoped to be hired (as a receptionist) on his own merit. Also, if the kids didn’t know that Brownstone now owned the building or that Forest worked for the agency, the writers could have made clear that it had been a while since they had seen or talked to their uncle. I felt that more of this episode than necessary dealt with explaining why Forest hadn’t mentioned that he was related to Choate. These sections, for me, slowed down the comedy and the action. I think that the writers could have dealt with this in a more concise manner.

In general, it often felt that the writers were reaching a bit too far for the comedic antics in the script, and weren’t doing quite enough to develop characters that an audience would want to tune in to each week. I didn’t feel like I had a very good sense of either Choate or Andover other than a short list of their quirks. Andover is always sort of manic and enthusiastic, but I didn’t get any sense of what he was thinking, or what he may have felt inside. Choate is portrayed as having a bit of an inflated sense of self-worth. These qualities, while they may lend themselves to wacky comedic situations don’t amount to much more than a two-dimensional shadow of humanism. Without characters that are endearing and identifiable to the audience, quirky comedy is not enough to hang a whole series on, especially if one of the main comedic scenes involves imaginary floating alien dog poop. The kids’ mother just left them for a bit, dropping them off with their seemingly estranged uncle to live in an office basement or conference room. However, I never got much of a sense of how this made the twins feel. Their reaction to their mother uprooting their lives and dropping them off at Brownstone was incredibly laissez faire. Having characters that show so little emotion makes the rest of the script feel hollower than it should. At 43 pages (more on this later), the writers have more than enough space to do a bit more character work.

In terms of the script length, it is unclear to me whether the writers have written a long half hour sitcom, or a short hour long comedy/drama. I feel like the set up and the content of the script is probably more suited to sitcom length, in which case the writers would need to cut it down by 20 pages to format it for commercial television. If, instead, the writers desire to make an hour long show, they’ll need to add about five. As I said above, those five pages could be a great opportunity to do more with the characters. Cutting the script down to a half-hour format, however, might also give the writers to make the script leaner in some of the places where I felt the script was dawdling, such as the above-mentioned scene where Michaela expresses her surprise at Choate and Andover’s presence in her office.

In general, I thought that the story arc of the pilot was not as strong as it should have been. The story read more as a collection of comedic vignettes than a solid three or five act plot structure. There was no clear central conflict in the episode to guide the action, and therefore, most of it felt manic and a bit sloppy. The pacing was alternately slow and rapid, and I think that much of this is due to the lack of a foundation in the plotting. I think that in future rewrites, it is important that the writers strip the story down and examine its structure, creating the important moments in the plot that should occur before the commercial breaks that will instill a desire in the audience to tune in again when those breaks are over. The action lacked the cause-and-effect scene progression that a central conflict might help provide. For example, Choate arrives at Brownstone to live, doesn’t seem to have luggage or need to unpack, but goes directly into just deciding randomly to audition for a combat bra commercial. If she is a serious actress, or at least a self-styled serious actress, this seems like an odd choice for her to make. Also, the fact that the kids dive right into business in their new office home lends an air of unreality to the proceedings as well. It is not enough to collect several wacky comedic moments. The writers need to structure these in a way that is grounded in some sort of realism that showcases the characters’ reactions to their new surroundings.

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Feature Film

I think that the writer is wise in her instinct to create a framing device to this story that begins toward the end of the story, developing a sense of mystery about how the story will eventually get into that courtroom. However, instinct aside, I think that it’s important that there is enough in this scene onto which the reader can hold. I found the two brief scenes – one of a rat in a maze, and one in a courtroom sans discernible dialogue – more puzzling than intriguing. In the writer’s description of Kurt’s court table, she mentions “Lena Schuld’s empty chair.” At this point in the script, we have no clue who Lena Schuld is, so I think that it might allay at least some confusion if the writer simply describes an empty chair, without the possessive. Besides the confusing aspect, a writer should take care not to describe anything that cannot be surmised visually anyway. Later, it will become clear that Lena Schuld is the one missing from the chair. In the meantime, the writer might consider providing a bit more dialogue to entice the reader into continuing with the story. She should aim to give just enough of a glimpse of these 2006 events to lead the reader into believing that the ending is serious and interesting enough that the story that leads to it must also be interesting. I didn’t quite get that sense in this opening, though I know that the intention for me to get it was there.

Despite some flaws in the character introductions which I will mention shortly, I felt that the writer showed great tenderness for Monika and Kurt during the scenes of their courtship and early marriage. Though Kurt had painful secrets he needed to reveal, I liked that Monika always took them in stride, and allowed her love for Kurt to remain unwavering. I felt that this added heart to the story, which did create a feeling of endearment in me as a reader. However, aside from this heart and this tenderness for the characters, I thought that the writer’s execution of the characters’ story in the first section of the screenplay was rhythmically problematic. The writer has the characters going through some tough emotional times, but the reader never gets much of a chance to settle with them and see how those times affect the characters, because as soon as they appear, the writer jumps to another scene from their relationship. In general, I felt as though, rather than getting a full picture of how these two characters constructed a life together, I was being given a book of their life and then given only a moment to flip through it and pick up some key points. I felt that this Cliff’s Notes approach to storytelling did the story a disservice. When Kurt tells Monika that he is a cross-dresser, she takes this admirably in stride, but as soon as the initial revelation happens, she leaves for Canada and we don’t rejoin them until her return. Personally, I would have been interested to see how she and Kurt navigated the times where they were trying to figure out how to allow his cross-dressing to be more comfortable between them – perhaps the first time he wears women’s clothes when he is with his wife, rather than waiting until he starts to take estrogen to show how this interaction might be. This jerky, terse, collection of scenes feels jarring. It makes it difficult to get to know the characters in a way that allows the reader to fully connect with them. The writer should allow them to stand still for a while. It is not as important to hit every point of their life as it is to convey a feeling of that life in select scenes, especially when that life is as complicated as this couple’s.

Part of the problem of flipping through scenes so quickly is that it requires too much exposition in the dialogue to denote the passage of time. Too much exposition in dialogue makes for stiff, unnatural-sounding conversations. For example, on page 26, Kurt and Monika are in a paddle boat celebrating their anniversary. Kurt says, “We’re old people. Twelve years.” Monika replies, “Seventeen years together.” This is the kind of dialogue that, if you’re not careful, can take the audience right out of the story. It feels less like dialogue that people would speak to each other naturally, and more like dialogue that they are speaking only for the audience’s benefit. Clearly, both of them are well aware of how many years they’ve been together, so these statements feel forced. Without scenes that are chronologically continuous, this happens too often, giving the writer one more reason to settle more firmly into the story’s natural progression, as opposed to flipping from one Very Important Relationship Moment to the next.

As the story goes on, I felt like I was missing more and more. Monika goes to Miami, leaving Sara with Kurt and Reginald. But since we’ve only caught glimpses of Sara’s life up to that point, I didn’t quite understand why Kurt had become such an angry, terse father, and was downright baffled that either Kurt or Monika would let a convicted child molester stay in their home with their child no matter who he was or what his sexual preference. These moments desperately needed more insight into the characters’ inner worlds and thoughts. I started to feel like I was really losing my grasp on who these characters where and what made them tick. While Kurt fails to bond with Sara, there is nary a mention of his transexuality. To me, this is the most complex and interesting part of the story, and I would’ve liked to have seen the writer maintain her focus on this as the primary spine of this plot. Everything should relate back to this very singular, confusing, and frightening experience for both Kurt and Monika, because this is what sets these characters apart from run-of-the-mill struggling couples. Since we don’t know what is going on in Kurt’s mind and heart, he just comes across as a puzzlingly mean individual after his children are born. He is so uniformly unpleasant, in fact, that it is equally puzzling, even before the sexual abuse allegations, that a supposedly highly intelligent woman like Monika wouldn’t leave him for being such a horrible, mocking, and cruel husband. The fact that Molly tells her, essentially, that Kurt has ejaculated in her mouth and Monika refuses to divorce him because she doesn’t “believe in it,” lost me entirely. I didn’t feel that I had enough of an insight into Monika’s resolve to stay with Kurt to feel any sympathy for her as a character, so her escalating troubles from that part became hard to focus on. Furthermore, as the characters become more puzzling, they become less interesting. As their behavior starts to frustrate me, I root for all of them less, and want to discontinue reading. It is one thing to tell a difficult and sad story, but it is extremely hard to keep an audience’s interest in a story this downbeat when there are no characters they feel they can identify with.