Two years ago, a friend of a friend whose screenwriting career was taking off advised me to put our script into a competition.
Unconvinced, I scoffed: “How did that pan out for you?"
“My screenplay came 10th,” she said. “But it got read by industry professionals who gave us feedback.”
Stubbornly I parked her advice.
Two years and two visits to the Cannes Film Festival, and multiple meetings that never quite secured us the right deal, I had an epiphany. Let’s put our screenplay into a competition.
What makes doing that easy is FilmFreeway, where you can upload your script, a mock-up of a poster and a description of the project. Once that’s done you can enter multiple competitions at the jab of a keyboard. Competitions generally cost around £50 per entry, more if you request notes.
Feeling as if the unapologetically original untold story Four Hours my cowriter Norma J Hibbert and I had started and rewritten many times would perish in 'unmade screenplay purgatory', I forgot about the competition submission. Then, months later an email popped up: Judging Status Has Changed. Inside it read: Congratulations, Blockbuster Screenwriting Contest has updated the Judging Status of your submission Four Hours to ‘selected’.
A tough decision
With no way of knowing if we’d won or not, was it worth going to Hollywood for the awards ceremony? The selection was part of the City of Angels Film Festival. If we went, we’d receive access to the film showcases, talks, launch, awards ceremony and afterparty. However, it would cost the best part of £2K to fly to LA and stay in a half decent (read safe) hotel. And even then we’d be sharing a room.
Heck. No money for outfits and blowouts. Norma and I sat down with the sums involved and despaired. Then my partner Ewan said to me: “If you get to 80 and you don't go, you’ll both regret it.”
Norma’s an educator and I’m starting a business and writing freelance. It was a tough decision.
My once choreographer aunt, in her 80s, heard about the award selection. She’d noted that our film is set in 1932 and turned up at my house in the East End from Brixton with a trolley full of original dresses and sewed me a headdress. “That’ll get you in the photos,” she said.
So yep, we handed a credit card over to Richard Branson and crossed the Atlantic, just in time for the opening party. The Festival Director saw us and asked us which was our project. “Four Hours,” we said.
She smiled: “Congratulations, I’m so glad you could make it.” We thought she was complimenting us on making it all the way from drizzle-soaked London.
After a couple of days of watching outstanding films as part of the festival and talking to producers, actors and directors, we spent a day in our shared room, frazzled from each other’s snoring - I did warn Norma to bring earplugs.
Spandex knickers
Prep began for the Awards Ceremony: face masks, hair straighteners, Spandex knickers. We tottered out in our high heels to Sunset Boulevard. After the red carpet moment pouting in front of photographers, we sat in the ceremony prepared to be disappointed.
Then it came to our category for best drama. They read the eight shortlisted screenplay titles. Time stopped. “And the winner is … Four Hours,” With the elegance of hysterical teenagers, we ran on stage, hugged the presenter, posed for photos.
Ten minutes later they announced the shortlisted writers for Best Logline (film summary). “And the winner is … Four Hours.”
Coming back off the stage for a second time, we were stunned. Celebrations went on into the night. We came home with two trophies (so no custody battles over who should keep it on their mantelpiece). We also returned with two lessons:
- Occasionally you have to put something expensive on your credit card.
- It pays to take advice when you receive it, and not two years later.
Winning this award is no silver bullet for a feature film that we describe as Hidden Figures meets Inglorious Basterds and could cost $20m to make. However, it has brought the chance of our screenplay coming to a cinema near you before we’re on our zimmer frames. We are in talks with possible producers and agents.
Our advice to all screenwriters is that if two idiots like us can enter a competition and win, you can too. And even if you don’t win, being selected is an incredible achievement.
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