Print Page - THE BLACK LIST 2014

With just a half-dozen weeks remaining until Black List 2015, I present to you my thoughts on the BL2014 loglines.

First thought: there's a lot of them. I have appraised, poked, and prodded around half so far. Therefore, this year I'll post them individually to this topic with a gush of loglines up front followed by a trickle at the back end.

Yeah. Try to not think about diarrhea. You can't. But you must. Because we're here to focus on those supremely important 25-40 words out of the many thousands you'll type telling your story.

Imagine, if you will -- DING! -- you step from your hotel elevator having arriving at, oh let's say, Floor 13. Before you a long, sparsely lit corridor stretches away into darkness.

You see other hallways intersecting this one at regular intervals. Punctuating these hallways are room doors. Too many doors to count. There are agents and producers roaming these hallways like white blood cells through a pulsing artery: vigilant, restless, questing. These busy workers hurry from door to door, pausing only to inspect each nameplate. Most of the time an agent will shake their head in disappointment before hastening to the next door. Once in a while an agent will judge a nameplate satisfactory. That agent will smile with relief, straighten their back, neaten their appearance. Even then, with a hand firmly gripping the doorknob, the agent will hesitate for a moment before turning it, as if knowing this decision to enter will come at a price. The moment passes, the agent puts on an irresistibly charming smile, and in they go. The door closes. Perhaps in a while some other agent will arrive at this same door, find the nameplate agreeable, try the doorknob... and, finding it locked, move on. Always moving on.

Yes, of course they are: those nameplates are loglines. Your logline controls who stops at your door, who turns the knob, who greets you with a warm smile and a firm handshake.

Polish your nameplate. Before or after your script gets written, you'd better polish your nameplate.

This year my arbitrary, subjective, scandalous and frivolous 4-star rating system is this: “nope,” “hmmm,” “good,” and “aces”. I'm rating the logline only -- not the writer, not the script, not story potential. It's all about logline execution. Does it zing (Google) or does it bing (Microsoft)?

Especially note that when I riff on a logline I'm probably straying far from the author's original story idea. Doing a plain word polish on a logline is the business end. Playing with logline story elements is the fun part.

Respect as always to these hard-working authors striving to entertain the world and make a living doing it, and congratulations to every one of you for making the 2014 Black List. Though I make fun of some of these loglines, folks, remember: every one of these Black List screenplays will probably knock your socks off. Find them online, read them. Then come back here and tell me how you'd change the logline to do justice to the story.

THE CASCADE – nope (revised to "hmmm" on a second pass)
Kieran Fitzgerald

Based on the documentary style film "The Day Britain Stopped" directed by Gabriel Range, an oil tanker collides with an Iranian patrol boat in the Strait of Hormuz, triggering a chain of tragic disastrous events.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/end.jpg)

Feels generic and lacks a protagonist and through-line. LL offers a promise of excitement but you have to take it on faith. I'm unfamiliar with the documentary cited, so for me the LL can't simply name check and expect me to fill in the blanks. I get annoyed with placeholder text like “a chain of tragic disastrous events.” Give us something to chew on.

Looking at the source material's Wikipedia entry (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Day_Britain_Stopped), THE DAY BRITAIN STOPPED is described as “based on a fictional disaster on 19 December 2003, in which a train strike is the first in a chain of events that lead to a meltdown of the country's transport system.” Ah, okay. Got it. So, the movie – aptly named, I see now – charts a series of causally linked escalating events all the way to some unimaginable, shocking outcome. That's actually a cool premise.

So, ignoring the first bit that gives context we're left with: "An oil tanker collides with an Iranian patrol boat in the Strait of Hormuz, triggering a chain of tragic disastrous events." Not a terrible logline but not a good one. It feels flat. It shouldn't. We're talking about events that rock one or more nations. Surely there's a particular character weaving in and out of most story events? Can't we tag along with that person? If we can, here's what the logline might look like:

"An inexperienced government minister must stop a chain of escalating tragedies when an oil tanker collides with an Iranian patrol boat in the Strait of Hormuz."

Now we don't need the introductory context. We let the logline lead. The context follows and helps seal the deal in the room: "And by the way, it's based on the documentary style film 'The Day Britain Stopped' directed by Gabriel Range. Have you seen it? Also by the way, I know that's a picture of Sydney Harbour and the Opera House, not the Strait of Hormuz. Let me explain in one word... Sequel."

AETHER - nope
Krysty Wilson-Cairns

In near future London, a revolutionary technology has been invented that can record sounds hours after they were made. Detective Harry Orwell, inventor of this technology, is part of a pilot program where investigators record and analyze past sound waves and finds himself the prime suspect while investigating a string of brutal murders.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/listening.jpg)

Takes too long to make its pitch. Raises all kinds of questions about the story rules for this new technology – like, exactly how many hours back can the tech capture a sound? But a wordy logline ruins this interesting premise of retroactive sound recording. Including the protagonist's name – an unnecessary element in all but biographical loglines – seems driven by the desire to throw a sly wink in George Orwell's direction. With a slimmer logline this might earn a “good.” Try this:

"A detective in near-future London invents a device to reconstruct recent sound waves. While investigating a string of grisly murders, the device fingers him as the prime suspect."

SITUATION COMEDY - nope
Cat Vasko

A young woman, feeling directionless, stumbles upon a mysterious courtyard where she is transported into a sitcom-like universe, becoming a major character on this "TV show."

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/lucy.gif)

Makes me think of THE TRUMAN SHOW, but I'm just not that excited about this premise. My motivation to read this script would be hoping Cat puts a new spin on this well-traveled "what if." We can dramatically trim this logline:

"A mysterious courtyard channels an aimless young woman into a TV-sitcom universe where she becomes the star."

See what I did there with "channel"? Awww yeeeah. Do we really need to mention the courtyard McGuffin? I'm not a fan. So:

"An aimless young woman slips into a TV-sitcom universe where she becomes the star."

Brutally efficient, no? Despite omitting the "mysterious courtyard" I think those roughly 14 words ably describes the premise as originally written. Observe how stripping away extraneous words makes plain what's missing. Not a hint of goal or opposition in this LL. Without foreshadowing contrast and conflict, this definitely earns a “nope” from me. Something engaging surely must happen on her journey to otherworldly stardom. That's what I'd like to hear about in the logline. Next time, crack the door open a little wider.

TAU - aces (yesss, our first ACES!)
Noga Landau

A woman held captive in the futuristic smart house of a serial kidnapper realizes that her only hope of escape lies in turning the house's sentient computer against its creator.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/hal.jpg)

Good strong logline. Protag, antag, opposition, goal. The whole movie is right there – but in a good way, not in the “I don't need to see it because the logline gave it all away” way. The logline benefits from a small shave. I managed 30 words down to 20. So, more like a shave and a haircut:

"A woman locked in her kidnapper's futuristic smart home must escape by turning the house's sentient computer against its creator."

Hot damn, that LL hits you square in the jaw. I need to read this.

EDIT 30 June 2018 -- and here it is (https://www.imdb.com/title/tt4357394/).

ECHO - hmmm
Chris MacBride

A CIA drone coordinator battles his own psychological health while trying to decipher whether his wife has been replaced.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/stepford2.jpg)

Begs the question: replaced with what? This logline excites but doesn't ignite. There's only a slim tether between the two concepts of "CIA drone coordinator" and "substituted wife." I feel the two elements need a stronger bond.

"An unraveling CIA drone pilot takes matters into his own hands when he suspects his wife has been replaced."

Something like that poses a much stronger cause-effect relationship between the drone element and the Stepford Wives intrigue. You're left wondering: "All that firepower in the hands of a guy losing his marbles. What the heck does he end up doing with that drone?"

EDIT, 23 June 2018: George Clooney circling to direct this (https://www.slashfilm.com/echo-movie/).

MENA - hmmm
Gary Spinelli

In the late 1970s to mid 1980s, Barry Seal, a TWA pilot recruited by the CIA to provide reconnaissance on the burgeoning communist threat in Central America finds himself in charge of one of the biggest covert CIA operations in the history of the United States, one that spawned the birth of the Medellin cartel and eventually almost brought down the Reagan White House with the Iran Contra scandal.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/cokeplane.gif)

Hooboy, that's a lot to digest in one logline! Some big, powerful players here, which guarantees conflict and suspense. Let's whittle it down to the essentials:

"A TWA pilot, recruited by the CIA to spy on communists in Central America, leads the biggest covert operation in U.S. History – one that gives rise to the Medellin Cartel and nearly brings down the Reagan Administration with the Iran-Contra scandal."

Contrasting the “rise” of the Medellin Cartel and the “fall” of the Reagan administration – that guided my word choices here.

The places and people supply sufficient context, I think, so we don't need specific time references. Note the switch in tense from past to present, which injects timeliness and urgency into the LL. I'm unsure about including backstory about the pilot's initial mission surrounding communism reconnaissance. Let's see how it reads without it:

"A TWA pilot recruited by the CIA leads the biggest covert operation in U.S. history – one that creates the Medellin Cartel and nearly destroys the Reagan Administration with the Iran-Contra scandal."

Reads fine to me. Let's go with that svelte 31-word revision over the 42- and 69-word versions.

DODGE - nope, nope nope nope
Scott Wascha

A genre bending action comedy about a pill popping thug who begins to develop superpowers.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/landis.jpg)

This teenage slacker of a logline gets an emphatic “Nope, oh hells no” from me. Anti-hero with superpowers is a brain burp, not a logline. At least it's ruthlessly brief. Could be briefer. Luckily I have a black belt in beating up loglines.

"A pill-popping thug develops superpowers in this genre-bending action comedy."

Three words shaved for twenty percent saved. But seriously, if you're going to fart in a paper bag and hand that to teacher as your completed assignment, Mr. Logline, just don't. Please skip class altogether. We won't mind and you won't embarrass yourself. We might even mistake your no-fucks-given attitude for a rebellious, adorable spirit.

NORTH OF RENO - hmmm
Banipal Ablakhad , Benhur Ablakhad

A down and out prison guard attempts to murder a recently released inmate and steal a half million dollars in hidden heist money.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/gta5.jpg)

Or: "A desperate prison guard must murder a paroled felon to steal half a million in stashed heist money."

See how a few small changes turns up the heat? The prison guard isn't just down and out, he's desperate. He's not going to try; he absolutely must carry out this murder for reasons we're invited to speculate about. In the original logline, personal greed appears to be the guard's motivation. In the revision it feels more like he's driven to murder as a last resort, because he needs that money for something really, really important. Note too the change from "and steal..." to "to steal..." One must happen before the other. Cause and effect. In the original logline you could reasonably conclude the two events – killing the convict and stealing the money – don't depend on each other.

Now, I might be going off reservation here by pushing the story in a direction the author did not intend. This exercise does, however, illustrate the importance of using the least words to say what you mean. Unnecessary words slow down reading comprehension.

ON THE BASIS OF SEX - nope
Daniel Stiepleman

The story of Ruth Bader Ginsberg, as she faced numerous obstacles to her fight for equal rights throughout her career.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/rbg.jpg)

Another public-figure story. The name alone automatically assembles a basic narrative, but the logline reads like we're watching a bored prison guard at the property counter return impounded possessions to a new parolee: "One black comb, used. One pair of sneakers without laces, used. Seven dollars and thirty-five cents. And one unopened story of Ruth Bader Ginsberg who faced numerous obstacles to her fight for equal rights. Enjoy your freedom, pal, and we'll see you again real soon."

When stuck with a bad logline the best you can do is get on and off stage really, really fast.

"The story of Ruth Bader Ginsberg and her lifelong fight for women's rights."

But we're not done here. Please take five minutes to go read Ruth Joan Bader Ginsberg's Wikipedia page (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruth_Bader_Ginsburg). Then read again the logline for ON THE BASIS OF SEX. Are you angry now? Are you angry to witness a logline for a story about Ruth Bader Ginsberg so completely fail to capture the essence of this person? "Numerous obstacles" indeed.

A reminder to us all to swap the lab coat for a sports jacket before sitting down to write a logline.

MOONFALL - nope, nooooooooope
David Weil

The investigation of a murder on a moon colony.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/moon.jpg)

If Scott Wascha's DODGE logline is, according to me, a fart in a bag then this logline is an empty bag. This logline couldn't be bothered to produce the fart. “Murder on the moon.” Maybe not even our moon. OUTLAND comes to mind. An insipid logline deserving nobody's attention. At least it has the dignity to be mercifully, painlessly brief.

I imagine the pitch going down this way: “Are you ready? 'Kay. Our story is... a murder investigation.” Dramatic pause. “ON THE MOON!” Writer pantomimes a drop-the-mic then expertly Michael Jackson-moonwalks out of the room. Seconds later, wide-eyed and grinning, he peeks into the room: "You got all that, right? Murder on the moon then I moonwalked? Fucking James Cameron'ed it, didn't I?"

THE MUNCHKIN - hmmm
Will Widger

A little person private eye investigates the disappearance of a young actress in 1930s Hollywood, leading him to uncover conspiracies involving THE WIZARD OF OZ and Metro Goldwyn Mayer brass.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/notsluttymunchkin.jpg)
(As you can see above, Google and I differ greatly about what images should be returned from a search for "wizard of oz slutty munchkin." Go home, Google, you're not drunk enough.)

A little dick can raise a lot of intrigue! Green-lit in a heartbeat if Dinklage attaches himself. In the spirit of short things, let's shorten this thing:

"In 1930s Hollywood, a little-person detective investigating a missing actress finds himself caught in a conspiracy involving THE WIZARD OF OZ and Metro Goldwyn Mayer."

I figured the Wizard of Oz/MGM aspects must be linked somehow, both part of one big conspiracy, so let's call it "conspiracy" singular. Multiple conspiracies needlessly bulks up the logline. There remains a gulf between “disappeared young actress” and “conspiracy at the studio's highest levels.” To narrow the gap I'd like to hear something that suggests how those two things connect.

"While tracking a missing actress in 1930s Hollywood, a little-person detective learns just how far the studio behind THE WIZARD OF OZ will go to get the movie made."

Oooh, shivers. Now the logline plays a bit like:

"You want answers?"
"I want the truth!"
"YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!"

Rather than state “there's a conspiracy inside!” why not nudge the reader into the room and let them deduce for themselves. The revision gives a strong hint the girl got in the way of “making the movie” and paid the ultimate price: cut down in her prime... (in the editing room, the worst of all possible deaths!).

MATRIARCH - hmmm
Eric Koenig

A prison psychologist has 48 hours to convince a serial killer to tell her the location of her final victim before she is executed.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/thatcher.jpg)

(Stay with me through this longish critique. Lost my shit along the way.)

Another lackluster logline. I seem to remember last year gave us way more original, way more fascinating loglines. This LL has a countdown clock, so that's a tick in the Plus column. But that's all we have in the way of big green tickmarks. Little else excites. The screenplay might be wonderful but the logline drops it to the bottom of my reading list.

The logline stands deliciously ambiguous in two ways. Sure, we understand how we're supposed to interpret the pronoun avalanche: “A prison psychologist has 48 hours to convince a serial killer [on death row] to tell her [the psychologist] the location of her [the serial killer's] final victim before she [the serial killer] is executed.”

But, due to its ambiguous construction, nothing prevents me interpreting that sentence as, variously:

1. “A prison psychologist has 48 hours to convince a serial killer [who has kidnapped the psychologist] to tell her [the psychologist] the location of her [the serial killer's] final victim before she [the psychologist] is executed.” Two victims! A score to settle: serial killer wants revenge against the psychologist.

2. “A prison psychologist has 48 hours to convince a serial killer [recently arrested] to tell her [the psychologist] the location of her [the serial killer's] final victim before she [the final victim] is executed.” Standard ticking-clock/save-the-victim setup.

3. “A prison psychologist [on death row] has 48 hours to convince a serial killer [visiting the imprisoned psychologist] to tell her [the psychologist] the location of her [the serial killer's] final victim before she [the psychologist] is executed.”

Holy shit, that last one! Was the prison psychologist outwitted and framed by the free-roaming serial killer? Was the psychologist somehow in league with this serial killer? Does the psychologist's hopes for a reprieve all hinge on finding out the location of that final victim?

See what happens when you play the pronoun game? Don't leave gaping logic holes or your reader will construct their own coherent narrative to replace the incoherent, ambiguous original logline.

Okay. Big gulp of coffee, and let's see what we can do here. We'll stick with the meaning I believe the author intended:

"A prison psychologist has 48 hours to force a serial killer awaiting execution to reveal the location of her final captive victim."

We need to mention “captive” to shut down any possibility the final victim is already dead. As it stands, the logline can be interpreted that way – notwithstanding our implicit understanding that searching for a corpse cannot rise to the same level of drama as searching for a survivor. Well, not unless the seeker is Indiana Jones.

Note too the switch from “convince” to “force.” The latter implies desperation on the prison psychologist's part, and perhaps a willingness to bend the rules.

THE DEFECTION - hmmm (I know, I know. I'm sure a "good" is on the way)
Ken Nolan

After the Edward Snowden affair, an intelligence contractor defects to North Korea, taking a mysterious bag with him, and the CIA hires an expert trained during the Cold War to help with the case.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/snowden.jpg)

If I overlook the fumbled, anti-climactic ending, I'd give this a “good.” But that ending. Hero's don't just “help with the case.” They get intimately involved. They have to. For them, something's personally at stake.

"When a U.S. intelligence contractor emboldened by Edward Snowden defects to North Korea carrying a mysterious bag, the CIA hires a retired Cold War operative to get it back."

Changes I made:

1. In the original, the intelligence contractor could be South Korean, could be any nationality. Plenty of reasons the CIA would get involved if the defector wasn't American. So let's just carve that in stone: the contractor is American. If pitching to Hollywood, we instantly boost our sale prospects.

2. The Cold War expert now has a strong goal: retrieve the bag. We can confidently surmise the bag will contain something far more alarming than whatever he was briefed about.

3. Trope-y, I know, but “retired” at least gives us something to hang our hat on. It can be anything – whatever serves as a focal point for us to form a picture of this veteran operative: a deaf Cold War operative; a homeless Cold War operative; a Cold War operative turned grizzled Hells Angel. Anything colorful that transforms a dull caricature into an intriguing one.

THE LONG HAUL - nope
Dan Stoller

A self-destructive trucker estranged from his son travels cross country with a problematic nephew whom he barely knows.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/roadtrip.jpg)

I anticipate the trucker-nephew relationship becomes the key to healing the trucker-son relationship, the nephew forming a proxy for the son. But I can see a darker turn of events too. Perhaps...

"Joined by a troublesome nephew he barely knows, a womanizing trucker drives cross country to reconcile with his estranged son – but the nephew has other plans."

That little kicker opens the door to CONFLICT. We get it: this won't be a tearful coming of age story where the father mentors the nephew and in doing so heals his own fragile relationship with his estranged son. No, in this LL revision it's about the father's physical and psychological struggle with the nephew. Maybe the out-of-control nephew plays Devil's Advocate, tempting the father back to the dark side, further and further from the path that will see him reconciled with the son he always disappoints. All due apologies to Dan Stoller if I turned his sensitive and poignant road movie into THE HITCHER.

Note too how being specific about how the trucker's self-destructive tendencies manifest ("womanizing") gives us a clue to why his son is estranged.

BERLINER - good

F. Scott Frazier

As the Berlin Wall is being constructed at the height of the Cold War, a veteran CIA agent searches for a Soviet mole who has already killed several fellow agents, including a young agent he's mentored.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/spy.jpg)

This one feels very familiar and confidently promises a rollicking spy thriller with moves and countermoves, twists and turns. That's not to say the logline can't be slimmer:

"As the Berlin Wall goes up at the height of the Cold War, a veteran CIA operative hunts the Soviet mole who killed his apprentice and will kill again."

That's 36 words down to 29: a modest reduction but a useful one. Must we include the additional motivation about the fellow agents who perished at the hands of this Soviet agent? I think not. A strong motivation it may be, but we understand its first and foremost the protege's death that makes it personal for our guy. Save the larger plot point about the ongoing assassinations for the script/movie.

ONE FELL SWOOP - hmmm
Greg Scharpf

A self-centered divorce attorney's life takes an unexpected turn when he is guilted into spending time with the family of a one night stand who dies in a freak accident.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/family.jpg)

There's a lot packed into this sentence. It doesn't need to sprint this hard. Lighten the load and let it jog at a comfortable pace. There's some ambiguity also. At what point does the one-night stand – for simplicity I'll assume it's a “she” – die in a freak accident? We can read the sentence two ways: the attorney spends time with one-night stand's family because the one-night stand dies suddenly; or the attorney spends time with the one-night stand and her family after the one-night stand, and then the one-night stand dies suddenly. “Dies” is our instrument of ambiguity. Switch it to “died” and we have only one sensible interpretation of the events.

"When a self-centered divorce attorney's latest one-night stand dies the next day, he reluctantly spends time with her family."

The revision's first clause is a mouthful, to be sure. Revoking the placeholder of “an unexpected twist” and rearranging the sentence makes plain the missing logline elements. Where's the conflict? What does he want? What are the stakes? What's significant about the one-night stand's family? We don't know how this family will feature in the story or what effect they'll have on our protagonist. We do know this will be a meeting of two volatile elements: the selfish attorney and the [???] family.

"When a self-centered divorce attorney's latest one-night stand dies the next day, he reluctantly spends time with her [unusual] family."

Even with the bland placeholder of “unusual” it's enough to prick our curiosity and beg the question: “Unusual how?” I bet Greg could find the right adjective to end the LL with a flourish.

BIRD BOX - aces
Eric Heisserer

A woman tries to lead her children to safety after the world is invaded by monsters who turn you insane upon sight.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/alien1.jpg)

A sizzling, Lovecraftian high-concept logline. One glance is all it takes and welcome to cray-cray.

The “don't look now” rule is a cornerstone of horror. Utterly primal. This logline serves up the necessaries without fuss or filibuster: protag, antag, goal, stakes, opposition, cost. Every word fit for purpose. I do wonder about the woman. Is she ex-special forces, equipped to the teeth thanks to her doomsday-bunker weapons stockpile? I know she's not – I read the screenplay. So who is she? Just a Jane Doe regular lady? Is there something about her that makes leading her children to safety particularly difficult? Is there an apt adjective that might preface “woman” to give us something extra to chew on? It doesn't matter. This logline does a fine job.

I believe I can make one tiny adjustment to jettison a word (22 to 21). Yes, I care that much. So should you, dear reader. Your business card (logline) has one chance to make a good impression the first time.

"A woman tries to lead her children to safety in a world invaded by monsters who turn you insane upon sight."

HUNTSVILLE - good
Anthony Ragnonell

A girl tracks down the man responsible for her father's death and avenges him.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/hamlet.jpg)

Wait, shouldn't this earn a big ol' “nope” for being brutally short and too simple? Isn't it another of those farts in a bag? No, ma'am, it is not.

This logline's only crime is to hang its hat on the low-set, time-worn peg of revenge. That's not even a misdemeanor really. I don't see anyone slipping the handcuffs over Shakespeare's wrists before hauling him into the back of a squad car. “A young man fakes madness to expose a murderer and avenge his father's death.” The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. Boom. Anthony gives us Hamlet with a princess instead of a prince. Bill Shakespeare would nod his head in enthusiastic approval if he could.

Having said that, I could stand a little more that distinguishes this revenge flick from all others. But splitting from the herd is not a requirement. Revenge in all its calamitous executions almost always works just fine by coloring within the lines. All we need is a protag, an antag, a reason, and a mighty struggle. Revenge works well because it completely satisfies an important guiding principle of drama: put your protag's needs in direct opposition to your antag's needs. They cannot go around each other; they must go through each other. When one wins, the other loses.

IN THE DEEP - good.
Anthony Jaswinski

A lone surfer attacked by a shark and stranded on a reef must find a way back to shore before succumbing to her injuries.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/shark.gif)

A confined thriller, and those are tough to do right. But we're rating the logline only, so how they pull it off does not concern us. The LL is short, tight, and presents a simple, intense adversarial conflict with a ticking clock. I'm left wondering how the heck she gets to shore. Put yourself in the situation the LL describes. Marooned on a jagged reef far from shore. A great white shark circles relentlessly, patiently waiting for you to bleed out or make your next desperate move. At a minimum you've got about 90 minutes of survival because the movie is about that long. How will you fill that time, dear screenwriter?

I want to know how Anthony keeps the audience interested for 90 or 100 pages. There will be props to use, I'm guessing. Scuba gear. Wreckage from a capsized boat. Stuff she can use. Aspects of the ocean she can harness. Does this logline earn a “good” mainly because it made me run the story possibilities? Yes indeedy.

I was ready to suggest a title change to IN DEEP, but I see the production has already found a new title: THE SHALLOWS (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt4052882/).

THE SEARCH - hmmm
Spencer Mondshein

An expert tracker battles his demons while on a journey to rescue his estranged older brother who has vanished in the uncharted wilderness of the Northwest.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/hunter.jpg)

We can slice away a good amount of connective tissue to streamline this LL (26 to 17).

“An expert tracker battles his demons and the unforgiving Northwest wilderness to rescue his estranged older brother.”

If “wilderness of the Northwest” is preferred, swap it back in for a cost of two extra words. I like “unforgiving” over “uncharted” but either works. “Battles his demons” always feels to me like a seat filler. Could we ditch it for something more concrete? The fatter word count might be worth it.

“Kicked off the force for his explosive temper, an expert tracker journeys into the unforgiving wilderness of the Northwest to rescue his estranged older brother.”

One word shy of the original word count, yet it sketches a clearer story arc. Presumably that explosive temper will drag him into plenty of situations he could have avoided. That's a strong promise of conflict.

YELLOWSTONE FALLS - hmmm
Daniel Kunka

After an apocalyptic event, a mother wolf is separated from her mate and the rest of the pack, and has to protect her cubs from swarms of mutated humans.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/yellostone-zombie-wolf.jpg)

That's 29 words. The logline holds some intrigue. Let's get to work:

"After an apocalyptic event, a mother wolf separated from her mate and her pack must protect her cubs from hordes of mutant humans." (23 words)

If the event causes the separation then we can switch to subject-verb-object and activate “separated”:

"When an apocalyptic event separates a mother wolf from her mate and her pack, she must defend her cubs from hordes of mutant humans." (24 words)

Where is the human element? Is the wolf mother the lone star or does she receive human assistance? I'm betting she does. I'm betting several “good guy” human characters feature prominently in the story. But maybe not. Maybe there's no dialogue. Maybe it really is one wolf against this new, terrible, post-humanity world. There's your reason, if you needed one, to go find a copy of the script. If you learn the answer, let me know here in this topic. [Or don't, because some months ago I switched off new member sign-ups!]

UPDATE: Answered (http://www.joblo.com/movie-news/wolves-battle-mutant-humans-in-the-highly-sought-script-yellowstone-falls). "This script is unusual in that it was 52 pages, with few human characters and essentially no dialogue. The action begins after an apocalyptic event that saps the humanity from most of the mutated humans that remain. At its core, it’s the story of a mother wolf, separated from her mate as the rest of the pack flees to safety, is forced to defend her cubs from the oncoming swarm. It sounds like those spare nature-based movies Jean Jacques Annaud makes, with a little genre thrown in."

For this exercise I don't research the projects in advance. The less I know, the more pristine the loglines during that first inspection. Those loglines must succeed on their own merit.

BEEF - nope
Jeff Lock

The manager of a fast food chain in Muncie, Indiana gets in over his head with some bookies.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/beef.jpg)

We have our protag and antag and our conflict, but we have no reason to pick up and read this script – if we must decide by this logline alone. Hard to decipher the tone. Is it a comedy? An actioner? A thriller? All of the above? Based on the double entendre title, I'm going with action-comedy.

With such a story-sparse logline, we may as well cut the location too:

“The manager of a fast food chain gets in over his head with some bookies.”

Ugh, I hate the way “some” sounds. So blithe and disinterested: “Logline? Yeah, okay. Got one around here somewhere. Alright, there you go. Now fuck off.” A small change will dissolve the logline author's “no fucks given” attitude:

“The manager of a fast food chain gets in over his head with a family of bookies.”

Now we imagine our manager facing not a few faceless hired goons but an entire criminal family – think Fargo season 2. Or how about this. There must be a leader among the “bookies,” yes? Let's go with that:

“The manager of a fast food chain gets in over his head with a Buddhist bookie.”

That snagged your brain for a second, didn't it! A Buddhist bookie? How exactly would THAT work, with Buddhist being pacifists? You want to know, right? All we did was swap out one ineffectual word for a provocative one and now the logline hooks you.

I do have a good feeling about this story, but for me the logline as presented stays a solid “nope.”

BLACK WINTER - aces
Jonathan Stewart, Jake Crane

On the eve of a US-Soviet disarmament treaty, a British scientist and a NATO medical investigator discover a secret Soviet plot to unleash a terrifying biological weapon.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/putin.jpg)

An imminent disarmament treaty – urgency, stakes. Brit scientist and NATO investigator – protags, with potential for disagreements/infighting. Biological weapon – threat, urgency, goal. Soviet plot – antagonists, conflict. This is a muscular logline that displays admirable balance and finesse.

There's just the one thing I'm considering: do we need “medical”? It makes sense, of course, that the NATO investigator be in medicine, but is it important we know it for the LL? “NATO medical investigator” slows down comprehension – three extra syllables in a slithering chain of syllables already quite long – compared with “NATO investigator.” With “British scientist and NATO investigator” we lose no comprehension speed.

After more consideration I have a second suggestion: lose “secret.” It's a given. Plots usually don't happen in the open. We know intuitively the Soviets will conduct this operation under the highest secrecy. So why not disappear one word and claim back the small reward in readability? It smooths out the logline's cadence too:

“On the eve of a US-Soviet disarmament treaty, a British scientist and a NATO investigator discover a Soviet plot to unleash a terrifying biological weapon.”

But really I don't need to change a thing. The logline for BLACK WINTER is, without a doubt, aces full.

CARTOON GIRL - good
Randall Green

When a young boy finds out that the cartoon character he's in love with is based on a real girl, he drags his single father on a road trip to track her down.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/jessica.jpg)

“When a young boy finds out that the cartoon character he's in love with is...” How did you complete that sentence in your head the first time? “Based on a real girl” is the go-to answer, but it's not the answer I wanted. My imagination took a sharp turn into Roger Rabbit territory. The moment I read “based on a real girl” I felt let down. Young boy + cartoon character = something original and delightful and visually exciting. I didn't want it to be grounded in the real world. But that's just me. And I'm not supposed to be critiquing the stories, despite having done it – what, five or six times already? Hey, don't try to oppress me with your rules, man! Even if I did write 'em. Rules are for squares. And rulers, yeah! Rulers are for squares. For making squares. And straight lines – look, don't confuse me with your bullshit rules is what I'm saying, man!

Pushing aside my appetite for a more fantastical outcome from these story elements, I do like the logline for its easy readability and workmanlike performance. On first consideration I gave the logline a “hmmm” but after second thoughts I upgraded it. If only it excited just a teensy bit more, I would not have vacillated at all. What can we do to nudge it over the line?

“When a young boy learns the cartoon character he loves is a real girl, he tricks his single father into a road trip to find her.”

So that's 33 words down to 26, for starters. I swapped out “drags” for “tricks” to have the kid operate under false pretensions. His dad isn't coming along grudgingly (and knowingly); he's coming along for some deceitful reason the kid concocted. That's gotta cause some conflict with his dad when the truth comes out.

ROAD TO OZ - hmmm
Josh Golden

The early days of brilliant, whimsical author L. Frank Baum, who gave the world The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/temple.gif)

It is what it is: another biographical logline. Correction: this isn't a logline; it's a premise. A sandbox. Maybe the sandbox contains an exquisite sand castle. Maybe the sandbox holds a series of monotonous peaks and troughs, featureless and windswept like the Sahara Desert. We have to take it on faith that it's the former, on account of this popular screenplay turning up on the Black List. But what about before it gained notoriety? What convinced the early adopters to read it? Presented with this logline only, why would they choose to read this script over others with much harder working loglines?

“Famous person. Read me!” is the gist of biographical loglines like this one. I don't believe you get a free pass when you base your script on the famous. In fact, I believe you must work harder to build a logline that showcases how your screenplay is different to other biographical screenplays based on that famous subject.

Extrapolating from ROAD TO OZ's logline, we might suppose Josh's story goes like this: Baum has a wonderful childhood guided by loving parents and family. He educates himself and gathers a coterie of loyal, supportive friends along the way. He decides he will be a writer. Money is no trouble because his father is rich and supportive. Baum woos a beautiful woman and they wed with the blessings of each family. A week after their honeymoon Baum's literary agent notifies him about an intense bidding war among publishers for the rights to his WIZARD OF OZ manuscript. Baum is now independently wealthy. His wife gives birth to healthy twins, then more children, each a prodigy in their own way and destined to thrive in the world. Baum's OZ book sells out with every printing and he becomes known and beloved the world over. After a life full of prosperity, good fortune and contentment, Baum dies peacefully in Hollywood in the year 1919. At his funeral attended by famous celebrities, rulers, and influential persons the likes of which have never assembled since, a 22-year-old Shirley Temple approaches Baum's open coffin. If any mourners recognized her – an impossibility unless they too were time travelers and had skipped forward in time past Shirley Temple's birth in 1928 – those mourners would recall how in 1950 Temple announced her retirement from acting and had immediately disappeared from public view. Those mourners would know this Shirley Temple – the one right now respectfully approaching Baum's coffin – was likely an agent of C.R.O.N.E, that shadowy agency with the baffling title of Chrono-temporal Response Organization of New Earth. They would suddenly understand Shirley Temple's “retirement” in 1950 was nothing of the sort. It had been a recruitment. C.R.O.N.E must have kept its eye on Temple for years, waiting for the right moment to bring her under their wing and reveal to her the true nature of mankind's twisted history. And now, here in 1919, in this cemetery, on this sunny Los Angeles day, if any mourners were to recognize 22-year-old Shirley Temple they would realize she was here to do one thing and only one thing: bring L. Frank Baum back from the dead...

Okay. Before I took one step too many, lost my footing, and plunged into the Abyss, I was making a point about how this logline fails to set up any dramatic through-line. The screenplay's on the goddamn Black List! There must be a gripping story in there somewhere. We have to assume Baum faces all kinds of adversity and ill fortune within those script pages. He must have dreams and desires and fears. The logline could be a sneak preview of that. Pick one of the adversities – a big one – and thread it into the logline.

“The early days of brilliant, whimsical author L. Frank Baum, who gave the world The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, then died, then lived, then became a legendary agent of C.R.O.N.E.”

BIG TIME ADOLESCENCE - hmmm
Jason Orley

A sixteen year old virgin with a growth deficiency slowly gets corrupted by his hero, an aimless college dropout.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/bob.gif)

“Kid with growth defect gets corrupted by his hero. THE END.” My brain automatically appended that second sentence. Seemed like the only reasonable way to finish. This logline is kind of a bummer. Started out great with the intrigue about the growth deficiency, then the supposed protagonist turned passive and I lost interest. As an exercise, what happens when we switch the logline around, place the subject and object in their proper places?

“An aimless college dropout slowly corrupts the physically stunted sixteen-year-old virgin who idolizes him.”

Which protagonist do you prefer of the two? Who gets a protagonist's arc: college dropout or stunted virgin?

Passive through-lines will kill you. Make your protagonist active. Make them want something. Make them act instead of react.

POSSESSION: A LOVE STORY - hmmm
Jack Stanley

In a seemingly perfect marriage, a man discovers that he is actually wedded to a demon inhabiting another woman's body.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/demon1.jpg)

Before we do anything, knock out "that" and "actually." Both are unwelcome parasites here.

Well-worn the idea may be, it does possess that quality of feeling familiar but (we hope) different. We really do need the other shoe to drop, which will give us a logline instead of a premise. The premise is essentially this:

“A man's perfect wife is a demon inhabiting some other woman's body.”

The logline forms when we ask the question: “And because of that, what?” Perhaps this:

“When a wall-street banker learns his perfect new wife is a demon in a stolen body, he must accept who she is or face a divorce from Hell.”

Wall-street banker, huh? Double meaning for "possession" in the title, huh? No need to rolleyes in disgust. I already rolleyed plenty for the both of us.

THE SECRET INGREDIENTS OF ROCKET COLA - nope
Mike Vukadinovich

Twin brothers with opposite personalities are separated at a young age and go on to live drastically different lives, eventually being reunited in the effort to save the company 'Rocket Cola' despite their love of the same woman.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/twins.jpg)

Definitely in the tl;dnr category. And “twins who love the same woman” is a thoroughly trite premise. So this logline really needs to hit hard and fast to compensate.

“Twin brothers separated as children go on to live drastically different lives until they reunite to save the company `Rocket Cola' despite their love of the same woman.”

I think the “drastically different lives” is enough to show the twins are opposites.

The timing of the woman's involvement remains unclear. Do they jointly (and separately) fall in love with her before they reunite to save the company? After? I'll take a punt and guess the woman is part of the company and that's how the newly reunited twins meet her – i.e. they fall in love with her at the same time. But it's impossible to determine any kind of chronology from the logline. Equally, you could argue the author's choice of “despite” strongly implies the romantic competition has been ongoing long before the company needs saving.

This kind of ambiguity is not the good kind. It raises the wrong questions. Any questions the logline leaves hanging must be forward-facing: “Then what? And if that, then what?” We should not have to go back and try to make sense of the setup. Our imagination needs a rock-solid foundation to build upon. This logline, unfortunately, gives us a platform of shifting sand.

Let's try two versions: one where they love the woman prior to saving the company, and another where they meet her when they reunite to save the company.

VERSION 1: They have a history with her prior to the main story

“Twin brothers separated as children go on to live drastically different lives yet fall in love with the same woman. Now she must reunite them to save the company 'Rocket Cola.'”

Zing! See what happened? We introduced cause and effect – or, to the extent it was there all along, we dragged it into the foreground. That's 38 words down to 31. I'd like to get that even lower...

“Twin brothers, separated as children, live drastically different lives yet fall for the same woman. Now she must reunite them to save her father's company 'Rocket Cola.'”

Nice! Down to 27 words. But hold on there! I see what you did: you cut a bunch of words, but also you slipped in one tiny story change: “her father's company.” Yup, I put some narrative glue between the twins, their romantic rivalry, and the failing company. Unity of action. The added relationship helps us understand why the twins will try to overcome their differences and save this company. They're doing it for her. If that was the original logline's intention, it was not at all clear. Now it is.

VERSION 2: They reunite to save the company, then fall in love with her

Let's work with my revised logline.

“Twin brothers, separated as children, live drastically different lives until a woman reunites them to save her father's company 'Rocket Cola' and makes them compete for her love.”

That's a different movie, but see how with this change the formerly nondescript twins-woman love triangle bursts open with intrigue and conflict. And that's just one extra word compared to version 1.

If the story isn't about the woman being the provocateur then let's try something else:

“Twin brothers, separated as children, live drastically different lives until they both fall for the woman who reunites them to save her father's company 'Rocket Cola.'”

Not as brassy or conflict-laden, but it will do. These two revisions simplify and clarify the original messy, ambiguous logline.

THE SHOWER - hmmm
Jac Schaeffer

At a baby shower for their longtime friend, the attendees suddenly find themselves in the middle of a different type of shower: meteors that release a vapor turning men into blood-hungry aliens.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/shower.jpg)

A little wordy but otherwise this is a good logline. Baby shower (the feminine) versus men transformed into bloodthirsty monsters (the masculine). I like that clash of cultures. Mainly what I'd like to see here is a focus on the protagonist instead of the group.

But first, here's a slimmed version of the logline:

“Attendees at a baby shower face a different type of shower when meteors release a vapor turning men into bloodthirsty predators.”

That sizzles. We squeezed 33 words down to 21, losing nothing. I subbed “predators” for “aliens” because can they be alien if they began as human? Unless the vapor reengineers every cell in the victim's body, they remain to some degree human. Sure, “alien” can be viewed figuratively in this context: the unnatural, the foreign, the outsider, the unknown. For me, “predators” reinforces how the men are going after the women. (It's reasonable to assume most of the attendees are women.)

Let's focus now on a protagonist instead of the group.

“Forced to attend a friend's baby shower, a stripper must get her pregnant host to safety when a meteor shower turns men into bloodthirsty predators.”

Oh snap! Not just a premise now but a fully formed logline of 25 words. The original tells us “meteors release a vapor turning men into blood-hungry aliens,” and we ask, “And? That's the setup, now what's the story?” The revision gives us specific contrast and conflict. Stripper attending a baby shower. Reluctant to be there. Dealing with stigma, jealousies, and general bitchiness from the conservative ladies. Shit goes down. Tables turn. Goal: get the host and her unborn (or newborn) baby through the ordeal alive.

CELERITAS - hmmm
Kimberly Barrante

When a missing astronaut crash lands forty years after he launched having not aged a day, his elderly twin brother helps him escape the NASA scientists hunting him. As the government closes in, neither brother is who they claim to be.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/return.jpg)

TV's The Twilight Zone leaned over to me and whispered: “That's my bit!” This logline plays with hand-me-down toys, but there's a reason these toys get played with all the time. The LL succeeds in laying a solid foundation then leaving the reader to speculate over possible story spines. But it fails in some other ways.

We have an inciting incident, an overarching story question, the Act One turning point, a goal, the antagonists... and the LL has time left to nibble on a conspiracy. It's a satisfying meal but it leaves an unpleasant aftertaste. I'm not digging the disconnected statements: “government closes in” and “neither brother is who they claim.” Who's the observer in that sentence? Who discovers the brothers are not who they claim to be? Do the brothers learn this about each other? Is the government discovering this about the brothers? What's our POV here? How do we logically connect the two ideas?

There's another subtle problem impairing my enjoyment of this LL. Is the elderly brother the protagonist or is it the astronaut? The way the logline's written, the elder twin is the one who makes the decisions and engages in the most action. Subject-verb-object. Elder brother “helps” the younger. That's the through-line the logline promotes.

We'll try it both ways, having settled on the brothers discovering each other's false identities.

Astronaut as protagonist:

“When a missing astronaut crash lands forty years later having not aged a day, he must escape the NASA manhunt, aided by his elderly twin brother. Soon the brothers will learn neither is who they claim to be.”

That comma before “aided,” huh? Story becomes its opposite when you remove it!

“When a missing astronaut crash lands forty years later having not aged a day, he must escape the NASA manhunt aided by his elderly twin brother. Soon the brothers will learn neither is who they claim to be.”

The elderly twin brother is aiding the NASA manhunt? Holy shit! Okay, so let's firm that up, just for fun:

“When a missing astronaut crash lands forty years later having not aged a day, he must escape the NASA manhunt led by his elderly twin brother. Soon the brothers will learn neither is who they claim to be.”

Whoa. Intrigue! Elderly twin hunting his returned younger twin. I think I want that movie!

Elderly brother as antagonist:

“When a missing astronaut crash lands forty years later having not aged a day, his elderly twin brother must help him escape the NASA manhunt. Soon the brothers will learn neither is who they claim to be.”

JACKPOT - hmmm
Dave Callaham

After a group of bumbling teachers win a large amount of money, their greed and incompetence put them on a hilarious path toward death and destruction.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/casino.gif)

This is a sales pitch selling the sizzle not the steak. That's fine – so long as you can follow up with a real logline.

The elements here are way too vague to get a strong sense of story. Bumbling teachers win money then funny, violent stuff happens. That's interesting, but far from intriguing. To sharpen the hook we must get specific. For example, we have no idea how they won the money. The title JACKPOT narrows the possibilities to casino, state-run lottery, something else? Confusingly, we have no idea if the teachers stay united as they battle an external force or if they go up against each other. Look how adding a few extra details makes a dull logline interesting.

“When a group of kindergarten teachers wins big at a casino, greed and incompetence turn them against each other until there can be only one winner.”

“When a group of music teachers wins big in the lottery, their greed and incompetence turn them against each other until there can be only one winner.”

“When a group of casino blackjack dealers take their employer for millions, their greed and incompetence turn them against one another until there can be only one winner.”

PLUS ONE - nope
April Prosser

Just out of a long term relationship and realizing that all her friends have married, Rachel discovers that her only remaining wingwoman is Summer, a loud and oversharing wildcard.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/wonder.jpg)

Interesting characters, catchy title, awful logline. Until somebody releases the handbrake by giving us the “moving” in this movie, this logline isn't going anywhere. The best we can do is trim.

“Out of a long-term relationship, Rachel realizes all her friends have married and her only remaining wingwoman is loud, oversharing wildcard Summer.”

Rachel confronting those facts could be the inciting incident or it could be the Act One turning point. Every moment after that is unknowable and unguessable. There is no story here. But it's on the Black List so somebody liked it -- a lot of somebodies. Pity none of the presumably entertaining story bleeds into the logline.

WONKA - hmmm
Jason Micallef

A dark, reimagining of the Willy Wonka story beginning in World War II and culminating with his takeover of the chocolate factory.

Darkening an already dark Willy Wonka? Yes please. But – and isn't there always a “but” – shy of a few extra details, I'm not quite convinced I should drop everything to read this. That's the goal of every logline: slice into your reader's brain like a diamond-bladed shuriken, severing their every thought except the irresistible impulse to read your screenplay.

I bet Jason fashioned a terrific story between the covers, but the logline musters only tepid curiosity. It's concise – bonus points for that. I reckon I can compact it further.

“Willy Wonka's dark, untold story, from World War II until he takes over the chocolate factory.”

BISMARCK - hmmm
Jared Cowie

As Britain struggles through the darkest hours of World War II, a naval officer, raw from the loss of his ship during the evacuation of Dunkirk, is thrust into the thick of the hunt for the Nazi super-battleship, Bismarck. Based on a true story.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/dodge.gif)

Some terrific material to work with here. The logline mostly works, but a burden of unnecessary verbiage makes it plod. First, we unload “is thrust into the thick of the hunt,” with its unsightly tangle of cliches. Next we reorder the clauses to remove the passive phrasing.

“Raw from the loss of his ship at Dunkirk, a naval officer joins the hunt for the Nazi super-battleship Bismarck as Britain endures the darkest hours of World War II.”

Around 45 words down to 30-ish. Now the logline is responsive. Now it can dodge, duck, dip, dive, and dodge. "Based on a true story" we can do without. Sometimes that tag provides meaningful context, or it gives the reader a little extra incentive to commit. Most times it makes no damn difference. A compelling logline requires no wingman.

MORGAN - good
Seth W Owen

A corporate risk management consultant is summoned to a remote research lab to determine whether or not to terminate an at-risk artificial being.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/tinman.jpg)

What have we here? A mash-up of Alex Garland's Ex Machina and Ridley Scott's Blade Runner? The premise is ripe for conflict and the logline hits hard. But not hard enough.

“A corporate risk manager visits a remote research lab to interview and possibly terminate a misbehaving artificial being.”

We've gone from 24 words to 18. A substantial saving.

“Corporate risk management consultant” is too heavy a train of though, so let's unhitch one word, leaving us with “corporate risk manager.”

I replaced “is summoned” with “visits” because the latter is active, the former passive, and regardless of how he came to be there the result is the same: he visits the lab.

“... to determine whether or not to terminate...” is too roundabout for my taste. Hit hard and fast: “... to interview and possibly terminate...” The revision brings two advantages. First, it eliminates two words: seven down to five. Second is the notion, and anticipation, that the consultant and the AI will interact face to face. We might expect that of the original logline, but it's by no means a given. Conceivably in the original logline the consultant might observe the AI from afar or simply analyze a mountain of log data to make his findings and his final decision. This change puts that meeting in our minds and gets us thinking about conflict and struggle. "To determine" is a cerebral activity; "to interview" is a physical action.

“... an at-risk artificial being...” I'm unsure what this means. I took it to mean the AI is behaving in an unexpected way that makes it nonviable unless the problem can be corrected. “Unexpected” as in displaying abilities or emotions beyond its programmed parameters. But perhaps the author intended it differently. Anyway, I revised it to “a misbehaving artificial being” which makes clear the problem – and the solution to the problem if the AI is to escape termination. If the AI starts behaving in line with expectations, all will be well. But we know, of course, all will not be well, not even close, because compelling drama happens when things very much do not go as expected.

SHADOW RUN - aces
Joe Gazzam

A viral attack puts lives in danger, forcing a CIA agent to initiate a secret prisoner exchange of Russia's most notorious spy for the American scientist who can create a cure.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/monkey.jpg)
Virus turns Manhattan into a monkey madhouse.
Agent Bananas is on the case.

The story spine is all there, elegantly and efficiently mapped out in about 30 words. And what a team those words make. I would only touch up that introductory clause. At first I revised it this way:

“A deadly viral attack forces the CIA to initiate a secret prisoner exchange: Russia's most notorious spy for the American scientist who can create the cure.”

Then I realized: “forcing,” “CIA agent,” and “secret exchange” all lead us to conclude the agent has gone rogue. He's doing this not because his superiors sanctioned it; he's doing this because it has to be done and he's got to risk it. If that's the story, my first revision is wrong; we need to retain the rogue agent as the focal point. Let's do that now.

“A deadly viral attack forces a CIA agent to secretly initiate a forbidden prisoner exchange: Russia's most notorious spy for the American scientist who can create the cure.”

Hella yeah. Now we have the added overt conflict of the agent disobeying his superiors. At 28 words it's about as long as the original, but I think this zings a little more.

Outstanding job on the logline, Joe.

THE BRINGING - hmmm
Brandon Murphy, Philip Murphy

A private investigator investigates a mysterious murder at a downtown Los Angeles hotel and uncovers its dark supernatural history. Based on true events.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/51-52.jpg)

An okay logline delivered with zero enthusiasm. Not uncommonly, the logline serves as a placeholder for a better logline, if only the author would give it the serious attention it deserves.

An investigator investigates. A cook cooks. A driver drives. Tell us something we don't know. To avoid this awkward sentence construction we can turn the sentence around.

“A mysterious murder leads a private investigator to expose a downtown L.A. hotel's dark supernatural history.”

Good. Now we can feel a pulse – weak, but it's there. We could punch up “leads” to elevate its heart rate.

“A mysterious murder compels a private investigator to expose a downtown L.A. hotel's dark supernatural history.”

Why must he expose it? What are his stakes? Where's the urgency?

Like I said elsewhere in this topic, “based on true events” adds no value to the logline. Toss it. The logline fascinates or it does not. If not, “based on a true story” will do nothing to reverse opinions.

THE TAKEAWAY - hmmm
Julia Cox

A young, play-it-safe, art restorer is swept up in a whirlwind romance with her charming boss, who turns out to be a world-class thief.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/mug.jpg)

Lively elements. Familiar but different (hopefully). Also: not a logline, or at least not a satisfying one. “He turns out to be a world-class thief.” Uh-huh. And she marries him on the spot? Why would we assume it causes her any grief? They had a wonderful romance by all accounts!

“When a cautious young art restorer's charming boss romances her then admits he's a world-class thief (a boastful lie), she blackmails him into a plan to rob her despised rich step-father, with her as accomplice in training.”

Feels like I didn't stick the landing, with the clumsy language of "with her as..." but it'll do for now, and I've got miles and miles of loglines to go.

At just under 40 words, that revision is far too wordy, but good lord does it suck you in, because now we've scattered enough plot points to start the reader thinking about where all this might lead. Our gal thinks she's getting a master thief and a shot at her evil step-father's fortune. The “boss” is just doing whatever it takes to keep his secrets secret. If it means he must make good on his boast of being a master thief, so be it. How far does this go before she finds out? That's your overarching story question. The rest is a bumbling blind-leading-the-blind comedy. Definitely not the story Julia conceived, but a fun bit of logline acrobatics nonetheless.

BLINK - good
Hernany Perla

Years after being fully paralyzed during an infamous bank robbery, a man is taken hostage for the secrets in his head. His only form of communicating with the outside world - and outsmarting his captors - is his ability to blink.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/blink182.jpg)

Very Hitchcockian. Is this an example of an extreme contained thriller? I must read this script to see how Hernany pulled off such a brassy, demanding concept. It's a good premise, albeit a windy one at 39 words. But is it a satisfying logline?

“Years after being fully paralyzed during an infamous bank robbery...” We're free to conclude the man was on the side of the criminals: one of the bank robbers, or perhaps the sole perp. Equally, we might decide he was the victim. Maybe he worked at the bank. Maybe he was an unlucky customer in the wrong place at the wrong time. In this case, I don't think the ambiguity harms the logline. How he became paralyzed isn't crucial to our understanding.

How about:

"Years after narrowly surviving an infamous bank robbery, a fully paralyzed man who can only blink must outsmart kidnappers who want the secrets in his head."

From 39 to 26 words. Now it wields the speed and force of a roundhouse punch. We lose the nice showmanship of concluding with "the only thing that can save him is his ability to blink," but sacrificing that for brevity and agility is acceptable to me. We still get very little sense of story, but the strength of the premise outshines all concerns.

Looking forward to reading this one. Thank you, Hernany.

BOSTON STRANGLER - hmmm
Chuck MacLean

In the 1960s, a determined detective puts his life and career on the line to solve the case of the Boston Strangler.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/boston.jpg)

The logline grudgingly gives up its 20-ish words while it greets you with that dead-eyed stare and shakes your hand with that limp, clammy grip. There's nothing remarkable about this logline. You notice it for a second or two, then your attention moves on and you forget the meeting happened.

And yet we've got just enough elements to make the down-payment on an entertaining story – never mind how overly familiar the story is. There's subject matter recognition. There's the tenacious cop and his high stakes. The formidable Boston strangler in the other corner. And a simple overarching story question: will the detective solve the case? When you know your logline is joyless but economical, lifeless but satisfactory, when you know the shine has rubbed off your material, get creative.

“In the 1960s, an LSD-addled detective risks everything to solve the case of the Boston Strangler.”

ERIN'S VOICE - hmmm
Greg Sullivan

A deaf computer genius' world is thrown into turmoil when he meets a troubled coffee shop waitress whose voice turns out to be the only thing he can miraculously hear.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/beythoven1.jpg)

“World is thrown into turmoil.” I'm no fan of this kind of vacuous puffery. Thrown into turmoil how? If you can afford a five-word proxy phrase then you may as well replace it with the real thing.

“When a deaf computer genius meets a troubled coffee shop waitress whose voice he can miraculously hear, they must...”

“Troubled” is another adjective I really don't like to see. Find a suitable adjective that defines her troubles. She's “an impulsive coffee shop waitress” or “a bipolar waitress” or “a self-destructive waitress” or “a god-fearing waitress” and so on.

“When a deaf computer genius meets a god-fearing coffee shop waitress whose voice he can miraculously hear, he's got a month to discover why it happened before she joins a convent and takes her vow of silence.”

A monstrosity of a logline in at least two ways! Let's deal with the first issue: too long.

“After a deaf computer genius meets a god-fearing waitress whose voice he can miraculously hear, they race the clock to learn why before she must join a convent and take her vow of silence.”

Phew. Down to 35 words. On the bulky side, but acceptable. Only five extra words compared to the original, but look at the extra story we crammed in there. Religious waitress. Ticking-clock stakes. Dramatic irony with him meeting the one person he can hear and she's about to take a holy vow of silence. Will she break that vow for him? Will he refuse to let her break the vow? And the computer thing: presumably his analysis will be heavily digital and programmatic. Maybe he figures out an algorithm to cure certain types of deafness, starting with his own.

The second issue my monstrous revision has created is how eye-rollingly "on the nose" that whole deafness-vow-of-silence business is. But it illustrates my point: if you want your logline to ignite, first gather enough dry and flammable material to catch the spark of your idea.

GIFTED - hmmm
Tom Flynn

A thirty year old man attempts to continue raising his deceased sister's seven year old daughter, a kid-genius, while battling his own mother for custody.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/whiz.jpg)

This works just as well, or better, and is six words lighter:

“A man raising his dead sister's seven-year-old daughter, a kid-genius, fights his mother's attempt to gain custody.”

The logline feels perfunctory and humdrum. If you've followed this long Black List topic then you know I like to spice things up, do a little creative cooking in the kitchen.

“Kid-genius” encompasses “seven-year-old” just fine, so let's accept that gratis word reduction. “Deceased” is a respectful word we need use only in polite company. In our present impolite company, “dead” will do. A spade is a spade and a syllable is saved. First revision:

“A homeless man raising his dead sister's seven-year-old daughter, a kid-genius, fights his mother's attempt to gain custody.”

“Man” turned into “homeless man.” That one extra word got your attention, I bet. Time to buckle up, kiddo. We're gonna fetch us that horizon.

“A homeless man raising his dead sister's kid-genius daughter goes to law school when his workaholic CEO mother and her shark of a lawyer sue for custody.

If that feels too much like a breathless, rocket-propelled race to the finish, go ahead and drop a comma in there to shift gears in silky-smooth fashion.

“While raising his dead sister's kid-genius daughter, a homeless man goes to law school after his workaholic CEO mother and her shark of a lawyer sue for custody.

Despite all that extra plot detail, we still scooched in under 30 words. I give you two – yes, two antagonists: mother and her lawyer. Homeless man going to law school – of course that's been done. A son or daughter battling their own mother or father for custody of a grandchild – that's been done. Have the two been done together? A few times, I expect. It's a delicious mix, particularly that bit about the workaholic, high-achieving mother ending up with a homeless son. That's a relationship ripe with conflict.

Okay, using my revisions, let's put the two loglines side by side, see which screenplay you want to pick up and read first:

“A man raising his dead sister's seven-year-old daughter, a kid-genius, fights his mother's attempt to gain custody.”

“A homeless man raising his dead sister's kid-genius daughter goes to law school after his workaholic CEO mother and her shark of a lawyer sue for custody.

MANCHESTER-BY-THE-SEA - nope
Kenneth Lonergan

An uncle is forced to take care of his teenage nephew after the boy's father dies.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/hemingway.jpg)

Inciting incident, new situation... and the door slams shut. Now consider how Hemingway presents an inciting incident, a new situation... and lets the door swing wide open. All in just six words:

FOR SALE: BABY SHOES. NEVER WORN.

The last two words cause us to speculate endlessly. We are compelled to compose sad imaginary scenarios to explain how this came to be. There's no compulsion to speculate embedded in Kenneth's logline. It's a newspaper-ish statement of fact, devoid of color, bereft of emotion save for the uncle's unhappiness with his predicament. It may very well be an accurate logline. It may be an efficient logline. But in my opinion it is not a good logline.

PROFESSOR PASGHETTI - good
Jeff Feuerstein

A famous children's author, with an affinity for drugs and hookers, finds himself on a journey of self-discovery with a dead stripper and her eight year old son.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/fsm.jpg)

If you expected me to read “on a journey of self-discovery” and cock an eyebrow and raise my red pencil and etch a big red X over this logline, you know me too well. But today I aim to surprise you. Today, this ill-defined through-line cannot defeat the many courtiers of conflict in attendance. Our cheerful, calamitous protagonist is a walking meatbag of strife and staph infections. He is conflict personified. If he were animated and on TV he'd be Rick of the eponymous Rick and Morty. If he were famous and British and dubiously sober he'd be Russell Brand. This protagonist is an agent provocateur, and who can resist the cheeky trickster? Nobody. Because we know tricksters will do anything – except be boring. Into my reading pile this script goes.

Nothing left to do but calorie count:

“A famous children's author fond of drugs and hookers hits the road with a dead stripper and her eight-year-old son.”

We cinched the belt 7 notches, down to 22 words. Now the logline pops like a string of fireworks, thanks to no word exceeding two syllables – not a deliberate ploy on my part, just a happy outcome.

THE EDEN PROJECT - hmmm
Christina Hodson

When a race of genetically modified humans living secretly among us declare war on Man, the fate of the world is in the hands of a rogue "Synthetic" named Eve and a young girl who is about to discover she's not all human.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/twigs2.jpg)

This is a borderline-good logline. We get a healthy serve of story content: secret society of DNA-spliced humans, a rogue synthetic (presumably a computer/human hybrid), and a young girl who is something else. But the elements don't connect in any meaningful way. The first group (let's call them “re-gens”) wants to exterminate regular humans. “Eve” and the unnamed girl are somehow in a position of authority and power over this war between the re-gens and Man. It's left ambiguous if Eve and Girl are on the side of mankind or if they are simply influential observers in this conflict.

The inciting incident is when the re-gens “declare war” on Man. We get no hint about what pivots us into Act Two. All we know in addition is, the fate of the world depends on Eve and Girl. In what way? Give us that, and shorten the LL, and you've probably got yourself a winner.

“When a hidden race of genetically modified humans declares war on Man, a rogue 'Synthetic' named Eve and a young girl who isn't quite human must convince both sides they face a far greater enemy.”

Well, not that "must convince" is a compelling through-line. We want battles, not diplomacy.

You know, doing that revision, I now suspect “Synthetic” is meant to be a label for the genetically modified humans. Which means we have only two sides to the struggle: Synthetics versus Man. Which means Eve is on the side of the genetically modified humans. G'ah, see what happens when your logline invites ambiguity?

UNCLE SHELBY - hmmm
Brian C Brown, Elliott DiGuiseppi

The little-known personal, heartbreaking, and darker side of cartoonist/author Shel Silverstein.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/darkside.jpg)

The little known personal side of...
The little known heartbreaking side of...
The little known darker side of...

Deconstructed, it doesn't parse cleanly. Easy fix. We pull a couple weeds and the job's done.

“The heartbreaking hidden dark side of cartoonist/author Shel Silverstein.”

At first I used “... heartbreaking secret dark side of...” but the pleasantly alliterative “hidden” won out.

Still not a logline. But what the hell, this one gets out of jail free because the industry has no quarrel with biographical loglines presented like this. At least it strongly foreshadows conflict and struggle.

A GARDEN AT THE END OF THE WORLD - good
Gary Graham

In a post-apocalyptic world, a recluse, trying to recreate trees to produce new life, takes in a young girl who is on the run from some bad men, including her father.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/tree.jpg)

A clear sense of setting and genre. A strong setup with clear goals for protag and antag – opposing goals that cannot avoid crashing head on, leading inevitably to a final showdown between tree farmer and the runaway's father. I really like this logline's simplicity.

Phrased as it is, there's ambiguity about whether her father is with the “bad men” or whether he's pursuing her separately in his capacity as just another bad man. I'll assume the father is with the others – in fact, he's their leader. Solid drama there.

“A recluse trying to restart tree growth in a post-apocalyptic world takes in a young girl on the run from bad men led by her father.”

If that's too exhausting without commas, we can slow it down.

“A recluse, working to restart tree growth in a post-apocalyptic world, takes in a young girl on the run from bad men led by her father.”

Comfortably under 30 words now. With or without the changes, the logline does its one job well.

COFFEE & KAREEM - good
Shane McCarthy

An overweight, foul-mouthed nine year old reluctantly teams with the straight edge cop sleeping with his mom to take down Detroit's most ruthless drug lord.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/boy.gif)

A terrific pairing of title and logline equals must read. All those loaded words creating anticipation of conflict: overweight, foul-mouthed, reluctantly, straight-edge, take down, ruthless, drug lord.

You should only need to read a logline once, as demonstrated here. The only acceptable reason to read a logline twice is when it blows your mind so completely you have to go back and confirm it said what you think it said. That's why I'm such a stickler for resolving ambiguity – unless the ambiguity is the rare good kind that elevates a logline.

One thing this logline does is play it PC safe. "Overweight" not "fat." "Sleeping" not "screwing." Wouldn't it better serve the logline, this being an action-comedy screenplay, if we use the unPC version?

"A fat, foul-mouthed nine-year-old reluctantly teams with the straight-edge cop fucking his mom to take down Detroit's most ruthless drug lord."

Okay, okay. I know that version will never make it verbatim into any TV program listing. "Screwing" might survive scrutiny, though. I like how the unPC approach flavors the logline with the nine-year-old's POV, as if he's reading out loud the official logline and correcting it on the fly. Fucking his mom is how he'd see it. "Straight-edge" he'd certainly swap out for something more derogatory. Maybe "... teams with the straight edge dickwad cop fucking his mom...." Then, probably: "... to take down Detroit's most asshole drug lord." Putting the POV version together:

"A fat, foul-mouthed nine-year-old reluctantly teams with the straight-edge dickwad cop fucking his mom to take down Detroit's most asshole drug lord."

The kid would surely play up his role.

"A fat, swearing, totally awesome nine-year-old reluctantly teams with the dickwad pussy cop fucking his mom to take down Detroit's most asshole drug lord."

Mwahahaha. Now the logline drips with obnoxious tween boy attitude. But we'll use Shane's original version whenever we're in polite company.

FORGIVE ME - good
Max Hurwitz

How Mike Wallace helped to create 60 Minutes and how years later, he confronted and dealt with his own depression.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/wallace1.jpg)

Biographical loglines are tough to get right, as we've seen again and again throughout this Black List topic. Max succeeds, I think, by including that second clause about Mike's battle with depression. We love to learn about other people's sorrows and misfortunes. It's why we enjoy dramatic entertainment. It's why TMZ thrives. It's fascinating to watch the Mighty fall and struggle, the Meek rise and prosper. It's human. An acute awareness of contrast is coded deep in our monkey genes.

Before we move on, I'll quickly point out the need for a comma after “how” to properly punctuate the sentence. Or, slide that single comma left and let it rest in front of “and how years later he confronted...”

IN REAL TIME - nope
Chai Hecht

A young man convinced that his mentally unstable sister needs to relive her high school prom from ten years prior to overcome her depression goes to great lengths to recreate that event.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/prom.jpg)

Overstuffing a comma-less sentence is something I do too, but I try to keep watch for when the floor starts creaking and cracks start appearing. I'm hearing and seeing it with this logline. We're maybe two words away from total readability implosion. We can easily thin it all out without sacrificing anything. Cut useless words, compress ideas, tell the story without circumlocution.

“Ten years later, a young man recreates his sister's high-school prom, hoping it will end her crippling depression.”

Massive word slaying: 32 to 19. Do we need "mentally unstable sister" when we've given her "crippling depression"? I don't think so. Crippling depression comes with all kinds of mental instability. Do we need "relive"? The revision's last part can be interpreted no other way than he's recreating the prom for her to relive. How would it solve her depression otherwise?

I'm concerned about a lack of embedded conflict. There's no antagonist other than depression. We know something terrible happened at the prom to cause her chronic depression. Maybe give us a hint of that. We have ample room now to add it if we feel like beefing up the logline.

MONEY MONSTER - good
Alan DiFiore, Jim Kouf, Jamie Linden

After a man loses all his money in the stock market by following the advice of a Wall Street TV host, he takes the money adviser hostage on live television.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/alan.jpg)

The double reference of “Wall Street TV host” and “money adviser” begs to be unified. I attempted to further distill this pretty good logline, but I'm not completely happy with the results. The original robustly resists any serious tinkering.

“When a man follows a Wall Street TV host's stock market advice and loses everything, he takes the adviser hostage on live television.” (30 words down to 23)

“After a man follows a Wall Street TV host's stock market tips and loses everything, he takes him hostage live on air.” (22 words)

“Wall Street TV host's stock market advice” is a mouthful. It's nice to have “Wall Street” and tap into that ready-made hatred, but it's not required to understand the setup.

“A man follows a financial adviser's TV stock market tips and loses everything, so he takes him hostage live on air.” (21 words)

Having stripped the LL to bare bones, we have room to add elements. Right now we have Inciting Incident (protag loses all his money) and Act One turning point (takes the advisor hostage on live TV). That's an excellent foundation to build on. Let's try some color:

“When a retired police negotiator follows a financial adviser's TV stock market tips and loses everything, he takes the adviser hostage live on air.” (24 words)

I'm reaching for the nearest thing here, so forgive the cliched example, but already we've amped up the intrigue simply by adding character elements that creates irony and conflict. The protagonist is retired, so we know his life savings have gone up in smoke – big stakes, big motivation. We know he's an ex-cop – but not just a cop, a police negotiator. If such a person chooses to reverse roles and take a hostage, they're in a strong position of power. They can predict how the opposition will think and act. That should create some exciting twists and turns as the retired cop and the acting negotiator try to outwit and outmaneuver each other.

MY FRIEND DAHMER - hmmm
Marc Meyers

Based on the acclaimed graphic novel by John Backderf, Jeffrey Dahmer struggles with a difficult family life as a young boy and during his teenage years he slowly transforms, edging closer to the serial killer he becomes.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/mel.jpg)

Provocative title indeed. Right up there with “My friend Hitler.” Films with these titles are surely death at the box office – unless the audience knows Mel Brooks is the director.

Let's lose the name-check immediately. I don't care if this story is based on Shakespeare's lost manuscript for "Hamlet 2: Wrath of Horatio." The LL must convince me on its own merits. Which leaves us with:

“Jeffrey Dahmer struggles with a difficult family life as a young boy and during his teenage years he slowly transforms, edging closer to the serial killer he becomes.”

The LL presents two ideas: Dahmer had a difficult childhood; Dahmer's teen years put him on the road to serial killer. The LL kind of fumbles the latter, I think, using unnecessarily convoluted language.

Here's my first eye-popping revision. See if you can spot the tasteless (there I go again!) word choice:

“A difficult family life as a young boy feeds Jeffrey Dahmer's teenage years, when the serial killer in him matures.”

That captures and connects the two ideas pretty well.

Despite the title “My Friend Dahmer,” the logline doesn't mention this friend of Dahmer. Why not? It's reasonable to think the story will be told through the POV of this friend. Knowing we'll be insulated somewhat from the toxic fumes of Dahmer's evil nature would certainly make this story more palatable for audiences. Something like:

“A high-school newspaper editor fights his principal to publish a story about serial killer Jeffery Dahmer's difficult childhood and teenage years.”

FOUR loglines remain in this year's Black List Beat Down. Any aces left in the pack?

SEDUCING INGRID BERGMAN - hmmm
Arash Amel

Based on Chris Greenhalgh's eponymous novel. Ingrid Bergman and war photographer Robert Capa engage in a passionate, life-changing romance in post-World War II Paris.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/capa.jpg)

The famous subjects plus the period plus the foreboding use of “life-changing” keeps this LL interesting. Once again we must strip off the bubble wrap in order to see the logline clearly:

“Ingrid Bergman and war photographer Robert Capa engage in a passionate, life-changing romance in post-World War II Paris.”

An accurate description, I do not doubt. However, here is the novel's plot summary from Wikipedia:

“The novel opens in 1945. France is recently liberated by Allied Forces. Robert Capa has photographed the Normandy Landings and been parachuted into Germany. Now he is kicking his heels in Paris, waiting for something to happen. As a dare, he slips a note under the door of Ingrid Bergman’s room at the Ritz, inviting her for a drink. The flirtation escalates quickly into a passionate affair. Ingrid has a husband, child and career back in Hollywood. Capa can’t escape from his traumatic memories of the war or his addiction to the adrenaline high that he only gets from his work. Against his better judgement, Capa follows Ingrid to California, but both still have painful choices to make.”

That's a magnificent one-paragraph synopsis. Again, the LL:

“Ingrid Bergman and war photographer Robert Capa engage in a passionate, life-changing romance in post-World War II Paris.”

To me, this is like seeing a “beware of the dog” sign posted outside a zoo's Russian Black Bear enclosure: there's a befuddling disparity between the two. Why not work into the logline some of that conflict and struggle we know the story possesses...

“In post-World War II Paris, movie star Ingrid Bergman and danger-addicted war photographer Robert Capa make passionate, life-changing love, despite her career, child, and husband.”

There we go. Twenty-eight words, and now we've exposed some of the obstacles they'll face. Our headline characters are no longer just names on a marquee.

THREE loglines to go.

THE BEAUTIFUL GAME - hmmm
Zander Lehmann

A high school soccer star's personal life becomes complicated leading up to his championship game as he develops a relationship with his soccer coach.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/field.jpg)

With some light pruning becomes:

“A high school soccer star develops a relationship with his coach, complicating his life before his championship game.”

“Develops.” “Complicating.” With those weak, sleepy verbs it's no wonder this LL can substitute for half an Ambien. The vague premise doesn't help. Is this a romantic relationship? I'm guessing so, but the logline leaves that door wide open. Plenty of other relationships to choose from. Is the coach male? Female? I'm going to assume male, based on statistics and likelihood.

“A high school soccer star falls for his coach, who has a wife and family, complicating life ahead of his championship game.”

There. Now the situation is clear. No longer do we need the placeholder of “complicating life.”

“With a championship game approaching, a high-school soccer star gets romantically involved with his coach, who has a wife and family.”

We can imagine the scenarios that might flow from those players and stakes. How about a version with gender switched?

“With a championship game approaching, a high-school soccer star gets romantically involved with his female coach, who has a husband and family.”

That one needs “female” because “husband and family” applies to gay men too, which would circle us back to the first LL revision. The object of this exercise is to remove the story-sucking quicksand of ambiguity.

Now let's change the nature of the relationship:

“With a championship game approaching, a high-school soccer prodigy starts believing his gambling-addicted coach is his dead father reincarnated.”

Intriguing. Got ourselves a “FIELD OF DREAMS but soccer” thing going on there.

TWO loglines remaining.

THE MAN IN THE ROCKEFELLER SUIT - good
David Bar Katz

The story of Clark Rockefeller, a con artist thought to be American royalty until he kidnapped his young daughter initiating a manhunt that revealed his true identity.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/suit.jpg)

As I pointed out during a previous logline critique, people love to watch a trickster at work.

Cons, kidnap, manhunt, the truth. Conflict, conflict, conflict. The logline does a sterling job. But I much prefer using snappy, punchy present tense, like:

“Con artist Clark Rockefeller, thought to be American royalty, kidnaps his young daughter triggering a manhunt that reveals his true identity.”

Compared with past tense, present tense feels immediate, inclusive, urgent. And it shortens word forms. We saved six words this way. Any technique that compresses sentence length without compromising readability is welcome.

FINAL logline coming up.

THE WILDE ONES - hmmm
Tyler Shields

In a corrupt Southern town, a dangerous sociopath runs bareknuckle boxing fights that pit its youths against each other.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/fight.jpg)

Yikes. That malodorous title. What's the inevitable double meaning, I wonder. Town of Wilde? The Wilde brothers join the fight-clubbing? Perhaps the sociopath's surname is Wilde? Thankfully, the logline's pleasing brevity offsets any liability the title imposes.

Conspicuously missing: the protagonist. It'll be one of those youths. A quick handshake introduction would be nice. For that we'll need to switch focus.

“When a resilient young addict starts bareknuckle boxing for drug money and doesn't die first try, the dangerous sociopath in charge smells money and pits her against increasingly invincible foes.”

As yet, we have no goal for our protag other than, I suppose, kicking the habit by learning to kick ass instead. I like the closing reveal: the kid is a she. Right from the start, the subject matter of boxing and drugs leads our expectations down a different road. So, all in all, it doesn't bother me how my speculative revision feels like only half a logline. The half we've got feels strong. It bleeds conflict.

THE END.

Final score: I wrecked some loglines; I fixed some loglines. My aim wasn't always true, but my intentions were. My thanks to the Black List and to the accomplished screenwriters named in this topic.

These screenplays found an audience of industry insiders in spite of or because of their loglines. A poor logline won't kill your chance of success. But it might delay it. Fight for a good logline. Then fight harder for a great one. Your weapons are brevity, clarity, and stimulation. What goes for movies also goes for loglines: the worst sin of all is being boring.

(https://10ptt.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/aliens.jpg)

The 10-Page Torture Test

Krupp Dominator => Loglines => Topic started by: Pitchpatch on November 01, 2015, 03:19 AM