Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

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  • Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

    For those who want to partake in the exercise, we are doing our TV teasers to a pilot that got picked up by Fox for next season.

    The show is called TOUCH starring Kiefer Sutherland. It centers on a father who discovers his autistic, mute son can actually predict events before they happen.

    Battling me in this throwdown are jimjimgrande who has worked in prime-time TV for the past six years (maybe seven?) and Ryne Pearson whose two theatrical releases were titled MERCURY RISING and KNOWING.

    I think this is a really fun premise for those who write TV and/or features since you can take the teaser opening in any direction you choose.

    As always, feel free to post your own. Vote/comment on each sample. Let us know what works, what doesn't, etc.
    Last edited by Hamboogul; 06-07-2011, 09:48 AM.

  • #2
    Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

    SAMPLE A:

    Code:
     [U]TEASER[/U]
    
                   BILLY GREER is flying, which is as awesome as it gets when
                   you're eleven years old. 
    
                   Wind whips his stringy hair and his eyes tear.  He stretches
                   his arms out, palms catching air, his shirtsleeves flap.   
    
                   There is pure joy on his face. 
    
                   INT./ EXT. - FORD BRONCO - DAY
    
                   TOM GREER (late 30s) holds the wheel in one hand and his son
                   Billy in the other.  Billy's standing on the center console
                   halfway out the open sunroof.
    
                                       TOM
                             How you doing buddy?
    
                   Billy pounds on the roof with his fists and laughs.  It's the
                   best sound Tom's ever heard.
    
                   EXT.  TOM & COURTNEY'S HOUSE - DAY
    
                   There's a taxi in the driveway.  COURTNEY GREER (late 30s)
                   stands beside the cab.  
    
                   She sees Tom's SUV pulling up...
    
                                       COURTNEY
                             Are you kidding me...?
    
                   She hardly waits for the Bronco to stop before she's at Tom's
                   window.
    
                                       COURTNEY
                             Have you lost your mind?
    
                   Tom pulls Billy onto his lap.  
    
                                       TOM
                             Don't blow this out of proportion.  
    
                   He gets out and puts the kid on his feet.
    
                   It's now that we notice Billy is different.  He rocks his
                   torso gently.  His right hand flaps.  His gaze doesn't focus
                   on the people around him. 
    
                   A smile lingers though.
    
                   Courtney's glare bores into Tom.
    
                                       TOM
                             Fine.  No more sunroof.
    
                                       COURTNEY
                             I don't appreciate being made to
                             feel like a bad guy.
    
                   She turns to Billy.
    
                                       COURTNEY
                             Mommy's got to go.  I love you.
    
                   There's no indication that Billy hears her.  She kisses him.
    
                                       COURTNEY
                             Be good for Daddy. 
                                 (to Tom)
                             You be good, too.  Call you.
    
                   They kiss, Tom trying to hold it just a little longer.  Then
                   she jumps in the cab and she's off.
    
                   INT.  TOM & COURTNEY'S HOUSE - NIGHT
    
                   Billy sits at a table in the kitchen.
    
                                       TOM
                             You want ketchup or mustard on your
                             hot dog?
    
                   He holds both out.  Doesn't get an answer.
    
                                       TOM
                             Okay.  Mustard it is.  Good choice.
    
                   BEDROOM
    
                   Tom holds out two pairs of pajamas.
    
                                       TOM
                             The race cars are cool.  Or we have
                             the rocket ships.
    
                   He tries to get into Billy's line of sight, to catch his
                   son's eye, but to no avail.  He drops the rocket ships and
                   goes with the race cars.
    
                   INT.  CHILDREN'S CENTER - DAY
    
                   Tom watches Billy pull legos out of a bin.  Billy
                   meticulously lines them up and sort them by color.
    
                   Tom's joined by MILLA (early 30s).
    
                                       MILLA
                             Nice to finally meet you.
    
                                       TOM
                             Same here.  So how's Billy doing?
    
                                       MILLA
                             Great.  I think the last ten months
                             have shown positive improvement.
    
                                       TOM
                             That's what Courtney says but I
                             don't see any difference from the
                             last time I was home.
    
                                       MILLA
                             When was that?
    
                                       TOM
                             Year and a half ago.
    
                                       MILLA
                             Progress can't necessarily be
                             quantified.
    
                                       TOM
                             That sounds like a non-answer.
    
                                       MILLA
                             I think if you spend some time with
                             us, learn what we do, you might
                             feel differently.
    
                                       TOM
                             Or maybe this isn't the right place
                             for Billy.
    
                                       MILLA
                             Disrupting Billy's routine before
                             you go back to... wherever you've
                             been -- 
    
                                       TOM
                             Afghanistan.
    
                   Whatever judgment Milla was going to make, she swallows.
    
                                       MILLA
                             ...well, I wouldn't recommend
                             changes right now.
                                 (then)
                             Is there something specific you're
                             looking for?
    
                   Tom stares at Billy.
    
                                       TOM
                             I guess... I don't know.
    
                   INT.  BRONCO - EVENING
    
                   Riding quietly.   Billy reaches for the sunroof, starts
                   fighting against his seat belt.
    
                                       TOM
                             Billy, no.  I'm sorry.
    
                   Billy gets agitated, his hands starts to flap.
    
                                       TOM
                             Take it easy...
    
                   In response, Billy just starts to moan.  Sad, woeful.  It
                   breaks Tom's heart.
    
                   INT.  ICE CREAM AND CANDY STORE - NIGHT
    
                   Tom hands Billy a giant scoop dipped in chocolate jimmies.
    
                   Billy starts to eat, seems happy.  Tom's cell rings.  ID says
                   "Courtney"
    
                                       TOM
                             Hi.
    
                   INT.  DALLAS MARRIOT - NIGHT - INTERCUT
    
                   Courtney walks through a ballroom.  Numbered tables fill the
                   huge room.  People are cleaning up.
    
                   A banner reads - CONNOR 2012.
    
                                       COURTNEY
                             Hi yourself.  What are you guys
                             doing?
    
                                       TOM
                             Ice cream run.  
    
                                       COURTNEY
                             Wish I was there.
    
                                       TOM
                             Me too.
    
                                       COURTNEY
                             How's he doing?
    
                   Tom watches as Billy wanders into an aisle in the store where
                   giant bins of colored candy line the wall.
    
                                       TOM
                             At the moment.  He couldn't be
                             better.  How's the senator?
    
                                       COURTNEY
                             Well, if the fundraising keeps
                             going like it did tonight we'll be
                             flying southwest instead of
                             charter.
    
                                       TOM
                             Maybe he should cut back on his
                             campaign consultants.
    
                                       COURTNEY
                             Not funny.
    
                                       TOM
                             Back on Thursday?
    
                                       COURTNEY
                             We'll see. We're talking about a
                             mid-west swing.  Hit the hometown
                             folks for some cash.  I'll let you
                             know.
    
                   Tom looks for Billy, can't see him.  Gets nervous.
    
                                       TOM
                             Okay.  Love you.
    
                                       COURTNEY
                             Love you, too.
    
                   Tom hangs up, rushes forward.  Turns a corner to find - 
    
                   Billy amid a huge pile of candy on the floor.  And he keeps
                   scooping more out of the bins, spilling it everywhere.
    
                   The owner, BERNIE appears.
    
                                       BERNIE
                             Jesus Christ.  Hey kid, stop it.
    
                   Billy doesn't.  Tom intervenes.
    
                                       TOM
                             I'm so sorry.
    
                                       BERNIE
                                 (to Billy)
                             I said stop it!
    
                   Billy's intense, sweeping the candy into piles, sorting
                   colors, nothing else exists.
    
                                       TOM
                             Don't worry, I'll pay for it.
    
                                       BERNIE
                             What the hell's wrong with that
                             kid!
    
                   Billy stands and dumps another bin of candy to the floor.  
    
                   Bernie lunges forward, grabs Billy's shoulder.
    
                   A heartbeat later Tom has Bernie's arm twisted behind him and
                   slams him into the wall - 
    
                                       TOM
                             Don't you touch him --
    
                                       BERNIE
                             Get off me --
    
                   Tom keeps twisting Bernie's arm until his face contorts.
    
                                       TOM
                             He doesn't understand --
    
                                       BERNIE
                             All right, all right...
    
                   Tom looks over - [U]and Billy's looking back right at him[/U].
    
                   Their eyes lock and it's as if there's the slightest smile on
                   Billy's face.  There's no doubt that he's [I]present[/I].
    
                   And as that registers on Tom, Billy is suddenly gone again.
    
                   Tom releases Bernie, shocked.
    
                                       TOM
                             I'm sorry.
    
                                       BERNIE
                             Get out of my shop.
    
                   Tom rushes over to Billy and scoops him into his arms.
    
                   Billy whimpers and reaches back for the spilled candy as his
                   father rushes him out of the store.
    
                   INT.  BRONCO - NIGHT
    
                   Tom buckles Billy in.  Holds his face in his hands.
    
                                       TOM
                             Billy?  Look at me.
    
                   But Billy just stares off at the lights on the highway.
    
                   INT.  CANDY STORE - NIGHT
    
                   Bernie stands at the register, counting money.
    
                                       BERNIE
                             Hey Joey!  Grab your broom.
    
                   IN THE BACK ROOM
    
                   JOEY, 16, quickly extinguishes a joint.  He grabs a push
                   broom and a dustpan.
    
                   INT.  BRONCO - NIGHT
    
                   Billy's in his own world.  
    
                   Tom eyes him in the rear view mirror, then retreats into his
                   own as well.
    
                   INT.  CANDY STORE
    
                   Joey and his broom arrive at the spilled candy.  He pauses,
                   staring down it.
    
                                       JOEY
                             Trippy...
    
                   Candy is spread evenly, with small splotches of color amid
                   larger columns of darker shades.  
    
                   Like a tile mosaic.  Joey steps over it, looks from a new
                   angle, and sees --
    
                   A skyline - Chicago maybe - Sears Tower looming large - 
    
                   [U]And there's an airplane flying into it[/U].
    
                                       JOEY
                             I am so high...
    
                   And with a push of his broom - it's gone.
    
    
    
                                         END TEASER

    Comment


    • #3
      Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

      SAMPLE B:

      Code:
      
      PILOT: "NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET."
      
      
      
                     EXT. CITY DOWNTOWN - DAY
      
                     A CHEVY IMPALA parks in front of a camera store. A MOTHER,
                     about 30, dressed for a weekend getaway, steps out first and
                     opens the passenger door, half-expecting... hoping. A beat.
      
                                         MOTHER
                               Come on, Joey.
      
                     [B]JOEY[/B], 3 years-old, remains fixed to the seat. Oblivious to
                     the world around him. And unaware that his hand with a crayon
                     draws random circles on his coloring book. He stares blankly
                     ahead toward a grassy spot of the area plaza.
      
                                         MOTHER
                               Joey, please get out. Let's go.
                               Mommy doesn't have time right now.
      
                     But Joey stares at a squirrel on a grassy knoll. His head
                     moves to and fro but his eyes remain fixed on the squirrel.
      
                                         MOTHER
                               Fine. Stay.
      
                     Mother mumbles expletives as she storms into the camera
                     store. She doesn't hate her kid. But a week of taking care of
                     him, paying him full attention, and trying to get through to
                     him wears on her. It would tire you out, too.
      
                     ON THE GRASSY KNOLL
      
                     The squirrel climbs up a tree. Yet Joey's eyes remain on the
                     same spot. In fact, he wasn't staring at the squirrel at all
                     but a fit 24 year-old man half a block behind the knoll.
      
                     Joey watches the man enter a seven-story building with a
                     rooftop billboard for Hertz with the electronic time that
                     just turned to 10:25.
      
                     He flips to a blank page of his book and draws...
      
                     That building.
      
                     Pretty amazing for a three year-old, especially since--
      
                     [U]He never takes his eyes off the building[/U].
      
                                         MOTHER (O.S.)
                               You were supposed to pick him up an
                               hour ago.
      
                                         MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
                               I've been busy.
      
                                         MOTHER (O.S.)
                               Too busy to take care of your
                               goddamn kid on weekends?
      
                                         MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
                               No. Too busy trying to pay your
                               goddamn alimony and child support.
      
                     Joey draws every little detail of the building. The ledges,
                     the arches, the Hertz billboard. But--
      
                     NO WINDOWS.
      
                     His eyes stare at a corner window of the sixth floor. And
                     that's the only window he draws on his crayon sketch.
      
                                         MOTHER (O.S.)
                               Joey sweetie. Your dad's going to
                               take care of you this week, okay?
      
                     Mother approaches the car. [B]ABRAHAM[/B], late 30s, follows a few
                     steps behind. He eyes his ex-wife who still looks beautiful.
                     There are lingering feelings but he's too proud to show them.
      
                                         ABRAHAM
                               What's your hurry? Got a date?
      
                                         MOTHER
                               My life is [U]my[/U] business and your
                               life is [U]your[/U] business.
      
                     Mother grabs Joey and lifts him up. He grunts in anger.
      
                                         MOTHER
                               And right now, he's your business.
                                   (to Joey)
                               Be good to daddy, okay?
      
                     Joey's eyes glaze over. His social skills aren't fully
                     developed and may never be. Mother smiles as only a mother
                     could. She kisses Joey and hands him over to Abraham.
      
                     But Abraham sets Joey back on the ground. Abraham is not very
                     good with kids, especially a son with autism.
      
                                         MOTHER
                               I'll come by your place on Sunday.
      
                     Abraham nods. Nothing more to say. As the Impala drives past
                     the plaza, Abraham holds Joey and leads him inside. And as
                     they do, we linger on...
      
                     ...the coloring book with the unfinished building with the
                     Hertz billboard time of 12:30.
      
                     [U]But the current time is 10:27[/U].
      
      
      
                     INT. CAMERA STORE - DAY
      
                     Abraham comes out of the dark room to help a CUSTOMER who
                     purchases two Kodak 35mm rolls.
      
                                         ABRAHAM
                               That'll be three dollars and fifty
                               cents.
      
                                         CUSTOMER
                               You're kidding, right? I can get
                               these at Ward's for a dollar
                               apiece.
      
                                         ABRAHAM
                               Maybe you should.
      
                     The customer thinks about it. But decides to pay for it. 
      
                     Abraham is about to go back into the dark room when he
                     notices...
      
                     ...Joey alone in the corner. He uses empty Kodak film tubes
                     as building blocks. 
      
                     Abraham grabs a 8 mm Bell & Howell Zoomatic Model 414 PD
                     camera from the back counter and approaches Joey.
      
                                         ABRAHAM
                               Joseph. Joe... Joey?
                                   (his son looks up)
                               If you're quiet, I'll get you ice
                               cream.
      
                     Abraham realizes what he just said. Joey doesn't.
      
                                         ABRAHAM
                               I'm sorry, Joey. I did not mean it
                               like that.
                                   (hands him the camera)
                               Why don't you play with this?
      
                     Abraham looks through the camera lens and pans the room.
      
                                         ABRAHAM
                               Look. I'm John Ford. 
                                   (points at Joey)
                               And you're Marlon Brando!
      
                     Finally, Joey reacts. Not a smile. But eye contact. Abraham
                     will take that.
      
                     Joey grasps for the camera. Abraham hands it over.
      
                                         ABRAHAM
                               Be careful. This camera costs as
                               much as the divorce.
      
                     Abraham hands it to him. A beat before he pats Joey's head.
                     It seems like a natural thing to do. 
      
                     Joey holds the camera, staring at all its odd parts before--
      
                     He swings it in the air as if it's an airplane. 
      
                     Through the store window, we see the Hertz clock at 12:25.
      
      
      
                     EXT. CAMERA STORE - DAY
      
                     Abraham locks the door to his shop. Then he notices...
      
                     Joey still holding the camera. Sh[COLOR="Black"]i[/COLOR]t, too late now.
      
                     Looking past his son, Abraham sees a crowd gathered on the
                     sidewalk. The time on the Hertz clock is now 12:29.
      
                                         ABRAHAM
                               Don't drop it, Joey.
                                   (Joey nods)
                               Good. Good. We're going to see a
                               parade now, okay?
                                   (Joey nods)
                               Then we'll get ice cream. It'll be
                               our secret. Between you and me.
      
                     Abraham grabs the camera. But Joey grunts in anger. Abraham
                     lets go. Okay, okay, keep the camera.
      
                     Noticing a wall of spectators lining up on the street,
                     Abraham carries Joey on his shoulder.
      
                     They approach the DEALEY PLAZA until they stand by the street
                     post of "ELM STREET."
      
                     A block away, a motorcade, led by police motorcycles, turns
                     left to Elm Street. As the motorcade passes the seven story
                     building, the time turns to 12:30.
      
                     Abraham cannot see what's going on. He moves closer to the
                     grassy knoll to view over the heads of spectators. All the
                     while, his son has the 8mm camera pointed.
      
                     Abraham climbs up the knoll as people cheer. He keeps walking
                     backwards up the grassy knoll until he sees a convertible...
      
                     ...with JOHN F. KENNEDY and JACKIE KENNEDY in the backseat.
                     From the front seat, NELLIE CONNALLY turns around.
      
                                         NELLIE CONNALLY
                               Mr. President, you can't say Dallas
                               doesn't love you.
      
                     Abraham looks up toward his son and realizes that the 8mm
                     camera is rolling. Before he can react--
      
                     BLAM
      
                     BLAM
      
                     BLAM
      
                     A beat before the crowd SCREAMS. 
      
                     They push and shove their way. Abraham nearly drops his son
                     in the mayhem. He lowers Joey to the ground.
      
                                         SPECTATOR (O.S.)
                               The President's been shot!
      
                     Joey stares up toward the Hertz billboard with the time of
                     12:30. Then the opened window on the sixth floor of the TEXAS
                     BOOK DEPOSITORY.
      
                     Abraham sees a frantic Jackie Kennedy climb up on the trunk
                     of the convertible. Desperate. Covered in blood.
      
                                         ABRAHAM
                               Oh my god. Oh my god.
      
                     He looks at Joey's 8mm camera that captured the whole thing.
                     He snatches it from Joey's hand. And as he stares at the
                     camera still rolling tape...
      
                     ...Secret Service men approach him.
      
                                         SECRET SERVICE AGENT
                               Sir, we need that film.
      
                     The agent grabs the camera. He notices a label of "If found,
                     return to Abraham Zapruder, 48 Elm Street, Dallas, TX." 
      
                     END OF TEASER.
      Last edited by Hamboogul; 06-07-2011, 10:04 AM.

      Comment


      • #4
        Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

        SAMPLE C:

        Code:
          TOUCH
        
                                             "The Door Opens"
        
                                                  [U]TEASER[/U]
        
                       Mostly dark. Hints of light. Urgent movement. Feet shuffling
                       fast. BANGING.
        
                                           WILEY (OS)
                                              ([I]groggy[/I])
                                 What...
        
                       Then BLINDING LIGHT. Spilling through a door flung open to...
        
        
        
                       INT. BEDROOM. NIGHT
        
                       A room of contradictions. Precisely decorated. Clothes
                       overflowing a hamper. Bed big enough for two. Just one
                       occupant.
        
                       WILEY. Mid-thirties. Dragged up from sleep. Eyes batting at
                       the door to the hallway. Light burning bright beyond.
        
                                           WILEY
                                 Evan...
        
                       Sound beyond the door. More footsteps. Small. Quickened. A
                       click. The sound of a lock. Then a door. Squeaking open.
        
                       Wiley is instantly awake. His legs swing over the edge of the
                       bed.
        
                                           WILEY
                                 Evan...
                                         ([I]a beat of terror[/I])
                                 No...
        
                       He bolts up from bed.
        
        
        
                       INT. APARTMENT BUILDING-CORRIDOR. NIGHT
        
                       Mayhem. Noise. Banging on doors. A guttural voice wailing.
                       Small.
        
                       EVAN. Three. Running along the corridor. Slamming his tiny
                       fists on door after door. Yelling at each. No words. Just
                       sounds.
        
                       Doors begin to open. Neighbors poking heads out. A mix of
                       anger and worry.
        
                       Wiley runs into the corridor from their apartment. Spots
                       Evan. Rushes to him just as an OLD NEIGHBOR, sixtyish, jerks
                       his door open at the racket.
        
                                           OLD NEIGHBOR
                                 What the hell is going on?!
        
                       Wiley reaches Evan. Crouches down. Pulls him away from the
                       door. Holds him by the shoulders. Evan won't meet his gaze.
        
                                           WILEY
                                 Evan, it's late. What's the matter?
        
                                           OLD NEIGHBOR
                                 It's two in the damn morning!
        
                       Wiley looks up to the angry old man. Bathrobe struggling to
                       encircle his girth.
        
                                           WILEY
                                 I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
        
                       Evan tries to pull away from Wiley. Grunts and screams. Seems
                       completely non-verbal.
        
                                           WILEY
                                 Evan. Stop. It's all right.
        
                                           OLD NEIGHBOR 
                                 Just shut your kid up already.
                                 People are trying to sleep.
        
                                           WILEY
                                 I'm sorry. He can't help it.
        
                       Doors begin to close. Just the Old Neighbor facing off with
                       Wiley now as Evan jerks and pulls. Fights to break free of
                       Wiley's hold. Seems almost possessed.
        
                                           OLD NEIGHBOR
                                 Your kid needs his freakin' head
                                 examined, mister.
        
                       Wrong thing to say. Wiley rises. Slowly. Faces the Old
                       Neighbor.
        
                                           WILEY
                                 He's autistic. And he lost...
                                        ([I]holds it together[/I])
                                 His mother died two months ago. And
                                 if you hadn't noticed HE'S A DAMN
                                 CHILD!
        
                       The Old Neighbor instinctively steps back. Wiley's wrath
                       plain. Slightly terrifying.
        
                                           OLD NEIGHBOR
                                 Like father like freakin' son.
        
                       He slams the door in Wiley's face. Wiley closes his eyes.
                       Draws a breath. Composes himself. Opens his eyes after a
                       moment and looks down to Evan.
        
                       HE'S GONE.
        
                                           WILEY
                                 Evan.
        
                       He looks up the corridor. Then the other way. No sign of him.
                       Until...
        
                       A DOOR. Heavy. Thudding metallically shut.
        
                                           WILEY
                                 No...
        
                       He moves toward the sound. Picking up speed.
        
        
        
                       INT. APARTMENT BUILDING-STAIRWELL. NIGHT
        
                       Wiley slams through the door. Goes to the railing. Looks
                       down.
        
                       Evan is descending fast a few flights below.
        
                                           WILEY
                                 Evan, stop! Now!
        
                       The little boy doesn't. Wiley takes off after him. Bounding
                       down three steps at a time. Bare feet slapping concrete.
        
        
        
                       EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING. NIGHT
        
                       Evan comes through the side door into an alley as...
        
                       A car FLASHES by. Horn blaring. Almost hitting the child.
        
                       He's unshaken. Looks down the alley. Sees where it spills
                       into the boulevard. Runs that way.
        
        
        
                       EXT. BOULEVARD. NIGHT
        
                       Two a.m. in the city. Its heart still beating. Cars and late
                       night denizens plentiful. The street humming as Evan darts
                       into the frenetic traffic. A car swerves as...
        
                       Wiley reaches the road. Spots his son moving across the wide
                       strip of asphalt.
        
                                           WILEY
                                 God, no... Evan!
        
                       Wiley bolts into the street. A Taxi skids. Fishtails. Wiley
                       slips. Rolls. The sliding Taxi misses him by inches.
        
                       He gets up. Dodges one car. Another. Gets to the other side
                       where...
        
                       Evan has stopped. Standing perfectly still. Disconnected gaze
                       fixed across the thoroughfare at...
        
                       The Apartment Building. Rising twenty stories into the night
                       sky. Spired apex scratching at the heavens.
        
                       Wiley reaches his son. Drops to his knees next to him.
                       Shaken.
        
                                           WILEY
                                 Evan are you all right? Why did you
                                 do that? What's wrong?
        
                       Evan gives no response. Never even glances at his father.
                       Just keeps staring at the Apartment Building as...
        
                       A whining ROAR builds. Racing down from above like a runaway
                       train.
        
                       Wiley looks toward the sound and sees...
        
                       A JUMBO JET falling from the sky. Trailing a ribbon of flame.
                       It's blazing hulk headed straight for the Apartment Building.
        
                       Wiley grabs Evan and DIVES behind a wall as the world around
                       them ERUPTS. Smoke and flame billow and swirl in a hellish
                       tornado of wind and debris.
        
                       When the violent wave passes, Wiley lifts his head. Looks
                       over the shattered wall that shielded them. Sees...
        
                       Dazed pedestrians scattering. Complete destruction beyond
                       them. The Apartment Building GONE. Pancaked on itself in a
                       flaming pile of rubble.
        
                       Wiley turns to Evan. His eyes looking past his father. To the
                       stars twinkling between pillars of smoke.
        
                                           WILEY
                                 Evan... Evan... Evan...
        
                       He keeps softly calling to his son.
        
                                                [U]END TEASER[/U]

        Comment


        • #5
          Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

          Hands down: A.

          Yeah, Sutherland is the guy who's going to be beating his son to find out where the president is, but it's really about the kid. So A opens with the kid. B sorta kinda opens with the kid, and C seems like the kid's an afterthought.

          "A" had its world set up fairly quickly, and showed us a family dynamic in a much more believable way than B and C. Plus, A was the one that seemed to get autism right.

          HH

          Comment


          • #6
            Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

            A...
            Standing on a hill in my mountain of dreams telling myself it's not as hard, hard, hard as it seems.

            Comment


            • #7
              Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

              I really enjoyed C's energy, but there is something beautiful about A that trumps all else. You really get the relationship between them, and a show like this would hinge on that relationship.
              Chicks Who Script podcast

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              • #8
                Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

                Totally agree with what Emily just said. If I'm to elaborate, I knew it would be "A" halfway through it and before reading the other two. It was that well done, imo.
                Standing on a hill in my mountain of dreams telling myself it's not as hard, hard, hard as it seems.

                Comment


                • #9
                  Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

                  A, not that my vote counts for this one. Excellent writing, strong characterization, great dialogue, and a solid hook.
                  Vancouver Screenwriters Meetup Group

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                  • #10
                    Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

                    I just want to point out that Ryne Pearson has a blog. He posts about his writing journey, bacon, and something else.

                    jimjimgrande supports Autism Speaks.

                    And me... um... I'm nothing.

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

                      A: CBS
                      B: Syfy
                      C: NBC

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

                        It took a while to get a feel for this one, but only an hour to write. Hope you enjoy, it was fun for me!

                        Code:
                        FADE IN:
                        
                        EXT. BOHM HOUSE – NIGHT
                        
                        A semi-detached suburban home with a large porch, brick walls, and large
                        windows. The lawn hasn’t been mown in weeks, the hanging plants are all 
                        dead except for a large cactus, and the wilted detritus of spring blossoms 
                        liberally coats the pitched roof and walkway.
                        
                        INT. BOHM LIVING ROOM – LATER
                        
                        Learning toys litter the Bohm living room. The large TV, muted, is 
                        broadcasting the Weather Channel. Only light snoring can be heard.
                        
                        MARTIN, in his late 40s, on the overstuffed leather couch, TV Guide resting 
                        on his chest, remote held loosely in an outstretched hand.
                        
                        Another hand enters frame and takes the remote. JACOB, sixteen, dressed 
                        in pajamas, clicks the remote and the TV channel changes to a lottery 
                        draw.
                        
                        Jacob rocks back and forth, staring at the TV. A newspaper lies on the floor 
                        in front of him, the stock market listing. Dozens of the stocks are crossed 
                        out with red crayon.
                        
                        Jacob brings the red crayon to the newspaper and writes a series of 
                        numbers: 1711316422713
                        
                        On the TV, the first ball drops. It’s 17.
                        
                        The next number: 11
                        
                        Then 31, 6, 42, 27, and the bonus number: 13
                        
                        A faint smile as Jacob rocks a little harder.
                        
                        EXT. BOHM HOUSE – DAY
                        
                        Martin and Jacob exit the house. Jacob’s fist waves rapidly at his side. His 
                        other hand clutches a plastic lunch pail.
                        
                        Martin holds his cell phone to his ear with his shoulder as he locks the door.[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]MARTIN
                        [/INDENT](into phone)
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]The strike wasn't my fault, Liz. God knows I can’t 
                        afford it.
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT](pause)
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]I’m not blaming you, for Christ’s sake! You’ll get the 
                        payment, I just need a bit more time for the check 
                        to arrive. Is that too much to ask?
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT]Martin walks behind his son, urging him down the pathway with a touch.[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]MARTIN (CONT'D)
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]Yes, Dr. Hopkins, I remember.
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT](pause)
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]Yes, he got his morning meds. Look, I’ve got to go, 
                        we’re at the car.
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT](pause)
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]Yes, I’ll tell him. Okay. Bye.
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT]Martin puts the phone away and unlocks the car.[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]MARTIN (CONT'D)
                        [/INDENT](to Jacob)
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]Hey, Jake. Jake? Look at me.
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT]Jake stares at the car door, waiting for it to open.[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]MARTIN (CONT'D)
                        [/INDENT]Your mother says hi, Jake.
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT]No response. Martin sighs and opens the door.
                        
                        EXT. LAX AIRPORT - LATER
                        
                        Martin, dressed in coveralls with a bright orange reflective vest and heavy 
                        ear protectors, drives a baggage cart across the tarmac towards a waiting 
                        jetliner. He drives past a bank of windows and waves.
                        
                        INT. LAX CHILDCARE CENTRE - SIMULTANEOUS
                        
                        A large, matted room inside the airport filled with children’s toys, books, 
                        and arts and crafts. 
                        
                        Jacob stares out a large window as Martin passes. We see Martin wave but 
                        Jacob doesn’t seem to notice.
                        
                        Behind him, five children of varying ages play together. They occasionally 
                        look over at Jacob but otherwise ignore him.
                        
                        A mid-thirties Mexican woman sits nearby, reading a magazine. She 
                        looks up, counts silently, and returns to reading.
                        
                        Jacob stands and walks to a large trunk. He extracts a toy alarm clock and 
                        returns to the window. He turns the hands to set it and sets it down.
                        
                        INT. LAX AIRPORT - LATER
                        
                        Martin, dressed in street clothes, walks with Jake along a busy airport 
                        corridor.[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]MARTIN
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]So, Jake, did you have a good day with Maria?
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT]Jacob is jostled by a man’s trailing luggage bag. Martin instinctively moves 
                        the boy in front of him, hands on his shoulders.[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]MARTIN (CONT'D)
                        [/INDENT]Sorry, it’s busy today. Heh, it’s busy 
                        every day. Come on, I’ll take you to the 
                        souvenir shop, you can pick something 
                        out, okay?
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT]Martin steers Jacob towards an escalator heading down. Jacob starts 
                        bucking and squirming but Martin holds him fast.
                        
                        Jacob starts to wail loudly. Martin crouches and holds him, rocks him, but 
                        he continues to wail.[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]MARTIN (CONT'D)
                        [/INDENT]What’s wrong? What? Shh, shh, it’s okay.
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]INTERCOM (O.S.)
                        [/INDENT]Security, Zone 4. Security, Zone 4.
                        [/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT]Martin rocks with Jacob, but something’s going on. People are rushing below 
                        them, screaming, pushing to the escalator.
                        
                        Martin stands, looks, then hauls Jacob into his arms and runs.
                        
                        An explosion rocks the building! 
                        
                        Smoke blasts from the floor below and billows through the corridor. Martin 
                        covers Jacob and covers them with his jacket. 
                        
                        They evacuate the area, passing:
                        
                        
                        LAX CHILDCARE CENTRE
                        
                        
                        Where, on the window, the toy alarm clock is ringing.
                        Vancouver Screenwriters Meetup Group

                        Comment


                        • #13
                          Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

                          Rene,
                          I totally checked what the actual character names were too. Hopefully I'll whip something up later.

                          Comment


                          • #14
                            Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

                            My understanding of autism was from watching Rain Man and Mercury Rising. So if my sample isn't the best out of the bunch, I blame Ronald Bass and Ryne Pearson (who has been mistaken for Bass during studio meetings).

                            Comment


                            • #15
                              Re: Throwdown: Hamboogul vs. jimjimgrande vs. Unca Leo

                              I liked A. The writing was emotional and evocative.

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