The Hyperbole
I shall stand strong against the professional writer. I shall fight as David against Goliath. Small and (not) so humble, I shall do battle. With the slash of my pen (keyboard) and the (paper) cut of my canvas (screen) will I bring down the mighty screenwriters of today and yore. I shall be the ScreenSlayer!
The Setup
If you’re not evolving, you’re dying. True for life and true for screenwriting. With that in mind then how can we evolve in our screenwriting and make that Killer Shorts entry sing on the page? By writing. By reading. Why not combine the two? Okay, that’s a good idea you had. I will watch a clip from a horror film and then write the screenplay version myself. After, I’ll compare it to the actual script and see what lessons there are to be learnt. And ponder a little (tongue in cheek), did I ScreenSlay the professional?
I’ve not read the script for this clip before or if I have I’ve completely forgotten doing so. I would forget my own name if… where was I?
The Approach
I’m a firm believer in the “voice” reflecting the tone of the film and the scene. A bombastic scene written in a flat monotone won’t get the reader hyped. A hyper written quiet scene is going to leave a reader confused.
I would say I’ll take a very British approach to this script but I do that by default! Colour you surprised by my behaviour? (I’ll stop now.) A tempered angle then? No bombastic leanings like some certain cousins over the pond may do. Keep calm and carry on!
The Film
The Logline
Refusing to let anything spoil their romantic weekend break, a young couple confront a gang of loutish youths with terrifyingly brutal consequences.
The Clip
The Amateur Script
EXT. WOODS – DAY
Jenny edges forward through the foliage, drawn by the distant voice of Steve, from a safe distance sees —
CLEARING
Sat against a tree trunk, bloodied and bruised, Steve TIED with BARBED WIRE. A dog CHOKE CHAIN around his neck.
The gang watch him from various angles. All with their back’s to Jenny’s location.
STEVE
Please, we can stop this. Nobodies died yet.
Brett boils over, steamrolls at him.
BRETT
My dog fucking died though, didn’t it?
Brett grabs the dog chain — YANKS it tight.
STEVE
(strains)
Sorry. It was an accident.
BRETT
Well, there’s gonna be another accident when I find that bitch of yours.
Brett SQUEEZES the chain tight around Steve’s neck. Steve’s eyes bulge. Brett grunts with the effort.
Behind the tree trunk, unseen, Steve tries to slide his bloody hands free of the barbed wire.
BRETT
No one’s died yet? Just wait and see what happens to her when I fucking see her.
He yells as he YANKS the chain even TIGHTER —
Harry pulls him off. Brett turns his anger at Harry. Steve chokes in breaths. Brett drives Harry backwards.
BRETT
Get the fuck off me.
Brett has him up by the collar. Harry tries to calm him:
HARRY
Let’s not be head loose.
BRETT
Who the fuck you calling head loose?
HARRY
Just saying, let’s not be rash.
Brett points back to Steve, eyes kept pinned on Harry.
BRETT
First phone he sees, 999. Who’s fucking head loose?
Steve, still regaining his breath, watches on in vain hope.
HARRY
Rash shit man, never touched him.
Mark, Ricky watch the two. He has a point.
BRETT
You didn’t touch him, na?
HARRY
Na, mate.
Brett reaches in his pocket. Snarls as he flicks the blade out of a knife. Brings it up to Harry’s face.
BRETT
Well, you fucking touch him now then.
Steve’s slim hope turns back into fear.
Harry tries to keep calm with the knife in his face.
BRETT
Him or me?
Harry shakes his head.
BRETT
You wanna front, act like the fucking big man? Then you’ll step up now.
Blade against his face, Harry still shakes his head.
Beat.
Brett has the knife point just under his eye. The coldness in Brett’s face says he’s not fucking around.
HARRY
Alright.
Brett lowers the knife, pushes it against Harry’s chest. He takes it.
Steve looks on, now even more terrified. Shakes his head in disbelief and as a pleading.
BRETT
Paige, get this.
Paige not happy but pulls out her phone, records video.
Brett steps away from Harry, still glares.
HARRY
Don’t fucking record it man?
Brett’s not going to stop it. Harry approaches Steve with the knife.
STEVE
No, wait.
Harry doesn’t stop.
STEVE
FUCKING WAIT!
WOODS
Jenny watches on in fear.
CLEARING
As Harry and Brett prowl in front of Steve, Harry falters, Brett gives him a hard shove.
BRETT
Go on then.
Steve kicks out at the nervous Harry.
STEVE
Fuck you!
Paige records, makes sure she gets it all despite her repulsion.
Harry dashes in from the side. Grabs Steve — drags the knife weakly across his arm. The pathetic cut causes hardly a whimper from Steve. Brett hovers, not impressed.
BRETT
Nah, that’s not even a proper cut.
BRETT
Deeper.
Harry doesn’t move. Steve can do nothing. Brett rails.
BRETT
DEEPER!
Scared to action, Harry goes in again with the knife. Cuts deep as Steve cries out in pain.
WOODS
Tears stream down Jenny’s face as she looks on.
CLEARING
Harry shoves the knife at Brett, runs a few feet away — throws up into the undergrowth.
Brett waves the knife around, points people out.
BRETT
Alright, everyone’ll have a dig.
(then)
Marky, Mark.
Mark doesn’t even look at Brett. Screws his face up at the thought for a moment. Goes in his pocket. Pulls out a Stanley knife — clicks the razor sharp blade out.
Steve still in pain from the first cut, scared to a new focus by the thought of a scalpel sharp blade.
Mark gets into it. Surges forward — grabs Steve’s hair, yanks his head back as he thrusts the blade against his throat. Doesn’t cut. Steve grunts in pain.
Mark draws the blade over Steve’s body, toying with him — DIGS the blade in Steve’s side. He gives a muted cry.
WOODS
Jenny covers her mouth the stop herself crying out.
CLEARING
Ricky has to turn away. Brett’s all joy.
BRETT
Go on, Mark.
Mark RIPS the blade from Steve’s side. Steve CRIES out.
Even Brett has to turn away for a moment.
BRETT
Jesus Christ.
Steve struggles to breath through the pain. Mark basks his distress, could be burning ants with a magnifying glass.
Ricky still can’t turn around. Brett holds out the knife.
BRETT
Ricky, Dicky.
He turns, no way out. Takes the knife.
Has to gee himself up, jogs on the spot like a boxer in front of the agonised Steve.
BRETT
Go on then!
Edges forward — THRUSTS the knife into Steve’s side, hops back. Looks down at the split blood.
RICKY
Shit, my shoe!
WOODS
Jenny weeps.
CLEARING
RICKY
These are fucking gold tops, man! Brand new.
Brett smirks.
BRETT
You little fuckwit.
The Original Script
No title page on this one but it has scene numbers so I’ll assume it’s pretty close to a production draft. Written by James Watkins.
INT. CLEARING – DAWN
Jenny, glimpses through the trees:
Steve lashed to a rusted barbed-wire fence, the dog’s choke chain round his neck, a nasty gash on his head and his hand mangled.
Around the clearing, five of the kids: dirty, scuffed, tired after a night in the forest.
Air heavy with languor. Like a hangover after a party, when spirits have cooled and blood alcohol waned and you’re faced with the mess.
Harry nurses the bruised welt on his face where Steve hit him.
Ricky fretfully scrubs blood off his jacket.
Mark sits on a stump, tooling with his ninja stars, more detached than the others.
HARRY
This is fucked up.
STEVE
Please, just let me go. Please I won’t say anything. Please, just let me go.
Brett paces, rubbing his temples, trying to think. His brain crashing, he takes a hit from his jar of amyl nitrate.
Behind his back, Steve works his wrists against his barbed wire bonds, tearing his flesh trying to loosen them. Adding to his pain.
Brett’s mobile phone BLARES.
BRETT
Coops, you seen her?
(listens)
You keep watching the road.
(listens)
Mate, it’s ten fuckin’ miles to town. In the dark. She’s not fuckin’ Lassie, is she?
Jenny, in her hiding place, watches with trepidation. She doesn’t know what to do, whether to intervene.
BRETT (ON PHONE)
Cooper, no one goes home. You hear me. You get here now.
Hangs up.
PAIGE
We can’t find her, we’re fucked.
HARRY
Let’s bounce man.
BRETT
And him?
Steve, feeling the attention, stops tugging and rubbing his wrists- lubricated by blood, his bonds are loosening.
STEVE
I won’t say anything. On my life. I swear.
Harry looks to Brett: he’ll go with this.
STEVE
I won’t say anything. Just let me go. Come on, no one’s died.
Brett, his face suddenly in Steve’s, yanks his chain.
BRETT
My dog died.
STEVE
(choking)
I’m sorry. It was an accident. I swear to God.
BRETT
Turn the music down now, eh? Eh?
HARRY
Easy man. You killing the guy.
Brett ignores him, intent on throttling Steve.
BRETT
Watch your dog now, eh?
Harry pulls Brett off.
BRETT
Get the fuck off me.
As Steve sucks air, Brett bears down on Harry. Paige, apeing Brett, takes the strain on Steve’s chain.
HARRY
Let’s not be head loose.
BRETT
You callin’ me head loose?
HARRY
Just saying, let’s not be rash.
Other kids watch, waver. Brett sees this.
BRETT
First phone he sees. 9 9 9. Who’s head loose? We gotta finish this.
HARRY
And his missus?
BRETT
She makes it to the fuzz and they find him, we’re fucked. But they don’t find him, we saw nowt. Domestic.
HARRY
This is rash shit man. I never touched him. I didn’t touch him.
BRETT
You didn’t fuckin’ touch him? (furious, pulls a knife) You touch him now.
Harry shakes his head. Brett advances.
BRETT
Him or me? (offering the knife) You wanna step up? You gonna front like the big rig, you step up!
Brett is nastier. They all know it. Harry gets no comfort from the faces of his other friends.
HARRY
(a whisper)
Gimmme the blade.
BRETT
Paige, get this.
With her phone, Paige films Harry as he advances on Steve with the knife.
HARRY
Don’t fuckin’ record it man.
Brett stares him down. Harry takes deep gulps of air, woozy, psyching himself up to stab. His eyes meeting Steve’s. Then slashes his forearm.
BRETT
That’s not a proper cut. Deeper.
(Harry cuts again)
DEEPER!
Gruelling it out, Harry cuts deeper.
PAIGE
You tube gonna love you.
Harry shoves the bloody knife back at Brett.
BRETT
Everyone has a dig.
The gang line up, like they are about to be picked for playground football. Some [Paige] look keener to be picked than others [Ricky]. Brett walks the line.
In her hiding place, Jenny watches in horror.
BRETT
Marky Mark.
Mark produces his own knife. There’s an unnerving steadiness about him.
Stepping up, he takes his time, steps behind Steve, teases his blade up against Steve’s neck.
Steve BEGS, PLEADS, MOANS. Mark merely looks curious.
Brett’s lieutenant Paige films with her cameraphone…
RICKY
I can’t see this. I can’t see this.
Harry’s face echoes this.
Mark moves the blade down his chest to his crotch. Toying with Steve. Then Mark draws a vicious slice through his armpit.
Steve SCREAMS. Mark’s eyes stay dead.
Brett nods approval, takes the knife.
BRETT
Ricky-Dicky.
Ricky reluctantly takes the knife. Jumpy, he does a kind of jittery two-step, in and back, as he builds his nerve…
Behind him, unnoticed behind the treeline, a boy and his bike. Twelve, he looks younger. He looks horrified.
He witnesses Ricky jab Steve in the kidneys, peel off, hopping, blood on his trainers.
As Steve slumps in pain, the wire barbs snag his chest.
RICKY
Shit, my shoe.
(off the laughter)
These are fucking gold tops. Brand new.
BRETT
(amused)
Fuckwit.
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The Conclusion
Did I ScreenSlay or ScreenFail? I would rate this as a ScreenHeadLoose myself but offer your opinion below in the comments.
One of the first things I noticed is early in the scene and the odd sprinkle throughout, are the small set ups that come into play a little later. When Ricky scrubs blood off of his jacket, this sets up the idea of his vanity and why blood on his new trainers (sneakers for the cousins) will be disturbing for the non-obvious reasons. We also get some mental state visuals: Mark’s detachment, Brett’s agitation and Steve’s attempts at escaping his bonds as a few examples.
When it comes to “unfilmables”, I have two areas where large exceptions are “allowed”. I don’t mean the small unfilmables that could be argued about, I mean the big, most definitely an unfilmable, unfilmable and that’s in character/location introductions. Here there’s a tone/feeling paragraph describing a general hungover feeling. For me it’s a little bit too much but I can certainly see it’s value in a wider sense. Treading a finer line in an amateur spec would probably be called for if you didn’t want to get it noted in feedback all the time though.
As always, the bits that didn’t make it into the final film can help us think critically about our own writing. It may have been an overall change to the character of Paige but the removable of her aping of Brett’s eagerness does offer more tension in the moment and the potential for even more tension down the road. The possibility of the gang turning on Brett and then helping Steve and Jenny make their escape does seem the better idea.
The End
That’s your lot. Why not try this exercise yourself? With this clip or another. Do you have a clip you’d like to see me attempt? Let me know in a comment. Also, any other thoughts you have on how I did. I know this is the internet but try to be semi-nice. And if you can’t do that, follow Bart Simpsons’ example and try to try.
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Thanks to fanart.tv for the images.
