THE BLACK LIST 2014 - Logline Beat Down

[Pitchpatch]

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.



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.  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.

[Pitchpatch]

MOONFALL - nope, nooooooooope
David Weil

The investigation of a murder on a moon colony.



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?"

[Pitchpatch]

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.


(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!).

[Pitchpatch]

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.



(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.

[Pitchpatch]

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.



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.

[Pitchpatch]

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.



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.

[Pitchpatch]

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.



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.

[Pitchpatch]

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.



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.

[Pitchpatch]

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.



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."

[Pitchpatch]

HUNTSVILLE - good
Anthony Ragnonell

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



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.

[Pitchpatch]

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.



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.

[Pitchpatch]

THE FOUNDER - Nope
Rob Siegel
 
The origin story of McDonald's and Raymond Albert "Ray" Kroc.



Does Kroc turn out to be a visitor to our planet with a secret superhero identity?  And his only vulnerability is exposure to pink slime?  Get back to me on that asap.

[Pitchpatch]

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.



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.

[Pitchpatch]

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.



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.  "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.

[Pitchpatch]

SYNDROME (E) - nope
Mark Heyman

A detective solving the case of a disturbing film with subliminal images that is killing people who come in contact with it discovers a greater evil.



A film that kills people who “come in contact with it.”  So it's not the typical “watch and die” scenario?  I gave this logline a “nope” because the elements feel generic.  What's fresh about it?  The same horror premise has screened in one form or another many times over the decades.

Time for a vacuum and a dusting, and some reorganizing:

“A detective discovers a greater evil behind a disturbing film with subliminal images that kills all who touch it.”

Seven words saved, and now the sentence feels balanced, not so front loaded.