GET PREPPED for GET REPPED: Last Looks Checklist
Get Repped Now 2025 is rushing towards us. Is your script ready to rock the house? Before you send that baby into the world, make sure you’ve done everything possible to convey a patina of polish and professionalism.
Here are ten of the most common script problems we encounter. Hint: make sure your script is free of those.
10. Typos
This seems like an easy one to avoid, right? Yet we keep seeing screenplays with misspellings in the first paragraph. Some of you may now think: “who cares about spelling when my characters and my story are so compelling?”
The answer is: everyone. Why? Because gatekeepers will seize upon any reason to pass on a script. And the appearance of unprofessionalism is a big red flag for them. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot. Run a spelling and grammar check.
9. Formatting
Another easy one to avoid but we still see screenplays with their formatting all over the place (missing or misaligned scene headings, descriptions in parenthesis, dialogue that goes across the page).
Real talk: your script might be fantastic, but if a reader opens a script with messy formatting, their first and only thought may be “amateur.” And you usually can’t come back from a bad first impression.
Getting the formatting right is an easy ask… and an easy task to accomplish. Invest in screenwriting software. Writing your screenplays in Word is akin to a musician attempting to become a guitar hero by playing a washboard. Just don’t!
But proper screenwriting software is only half the battle. Knowing exactly how the page should look, and in particular, how the best screenwriters work down the page, can quickly convey a sense of awesome sauce.
There are several excellent screenwriting format guides out there, but of course we’re partial to our own CI Spec Format & Style Guide. It’s also the cheapest at $4.95. Many of the problems we see could be easily addressed if folks just read this e-book.
8. Active vs. Passive Voice
This may be a critical error where screenplays are concerned. The passive voice is frowned upon by industry readers, who are taught to look out for it:
Lisa is sitting down on the chair.
That’s a big NO. Use the active voice:
Lisa sits down on the chair.
The simple reason is that the writing is more direct and thus feels punchier, more immediate, and more economical – which is key to great screenwriting technique.
One quick way to tell if you are using passive voice versus active: search your script for the words “is” and “are.” It’s fine in dialogue, or course, but don’t use it in scene description.
And, for extra points, please don’t use a boring verb like “sits” (or walks or talks). How about “collapses,” “squats down,” “plops,” or “perches”? Your verb choices say a lot about your level of craft. Is each one well-chosen?
7. Length
There was a time when 120 pages was a good length for a spec script. Not anymore. A spec script shouldn’t come in over 110 pages – unless you are already a known commodity.
For certain genres (e.g. horror or comedy,) you should aim for a 100 or less. We know some horror producers who won’t read anything over 100 pages. At the same time, unless it’s horror or animation, it shouldn’t be less than 90 pages either, because then we immediately know that something is missing — usually setup, character development – or sometimes Act 3 is only 11 pages and everything gets resolved too quickly.
Remember, the first thing anyone looks at is page count. Readers will form a snap judgment – “Ugh, 124 pages, they expect me to slog through this?” Or “83 pages – probably no character setup.” So aim for the sweet spot. 100 pages is a great length for most genres because it promises the reader an easy, fast read.
Same holds in TV. If your 1-hr pilot is over 70 pages, it’s too long. We are guessing you are not Kurt Sutter or Aaron Sorkin. You haven’t earned the right to go long yet. While streaming pilots can be longer, remember that your goal is to create a positive first impression – and hopefully that pilot will become your calling card. Aim for 60 pages or less. That forced economy will only help, trust us.
If you’re five pages over those goals, don’t freak out! You can probably lose those five pages without actually making any real changes to the script. The typical screenplay or pilot can lose 10% (or more) of its volume without cutting anything important.
Inevitably, there are paragraphs that run 5, 6, 7 lines or more that with a bit of careful scrutiny could convey the same thing in half the words. So, hatchet in hand, play the “what can I cut?” game. Scrutinize every paragraph, every line, every word. Ten-word sentence? Try to say it in five. Brevity is the soul of wit, as the Bard once said. You might be able to lose five pages or more from your script without cutting a single line of dialogue. You’ll tighten up your writing and lower the page count all in one swoop, and that is a beautiful thing.
6. Clunky Dialogue
Do the characters sound real? Believable? Unique? Does their dialogue reflect their background? Who they are? Where they’re from? What they aspire to? Their education, hobbies, pet peeves?
A dedicated dialogue pass is always a good idea.
The single best way to identify clunky or on-the-nose dialogue: SPEAK it. Reading your script aloud brings it to life in a way reading it in your head cannot.
And what do we find when we do so? Well, for one thing, we spot the places where our dialogue sucks pretty quick! It’s a peculiar thing, but it’s true: when spoken aloud, dialogue either feels natural and flows, or it doesn’t. If it drops to the ground with a clunk, that’s a good indication you should take a closer look. Expository dialogue in particular often jumps out — like with flashing red lights and blaring klaxons.
But the number one dialogue problem we see is called “on the nose” writing. This is where characters directly state what’s on their mind.
MARY
I’m feeling very upset with Johanna today.
Good God, no. That’s on-the-nose. Now try this:
MARY
(spits)
F*ckin’ Johanna.
She clenches her fists.
Much better! We’re interpreting the character’s feelings about Johanna via some visual writing and action, and the dialogue feels more natural.
Remember, in real life, we seldom speak so directly. It doesn’t feel natural. We lie, we deflect, we use sarcasm or body language or crack a joke or say nothing at all – yet our true meaning comes through. Master that, and your writing will immediately jump to the pro level.
Why not invite over a couple friends and make an evening of it? It will be a blast, and you’ll identify very quickly what works and what needs work. Best of all, fixes often are obvious, and your friends may even have some thoughtful suggestions that may help.
5. The Inactive Protagonist
Let’s remember that your protagonist needs to work hard at achieving their goal. They can’t be the bystander in their own story. They are the character that needs to make things happen and stumble over/crash through the obstacles that are in their way.
If they’re trying to solve a mystery, they need to be the one doing the investigation as opposed to sitting around waiting for others to give them the necessary information. If they’re trying to change their life, then they have to take whatever action they believe is necessary to do so (change jobs, get a divorce, go back to school, see a shrink). For example, if they want to get out of jail, they need to do whatever it takes from representing themselves in court to digging a tunnel with a spoon.
Always, always make sure you have an active protagonist. If you’re writing a feature and find yourself spending a lot of time on your supporting characters and B, C, and D stories, then you may need to go back and take a hard look at your A-line and make sure your protagonist drives the story and hits all the needed structural waypoints.
4. The One-Dimensional Antagonist
The antagonist should not only be stronger and better-equipped than the protagonist, they also need to be a fascinating character in their own right. Make sure your antagonist isn’t simply a walking, talking cliche. They should be fully human and three-dimensional. Every character should have a life beyond the plot of the story. Even bad guys may have a medical condition, alimony, a special needs child, and so on.
Why people do what they do is important and helps make a character relatable – yes, even bad guys can be relatable on some level. Remember, the bad guy is the hero in their own story. There is no better example of all of this than Wilson Fisk in Netflix’s “Daredevil” season one. A wonderfully complex character, he genuinely believes he is doing what is necessary to save his beloved Hell’s Kitchen.
3. Time Period
Writers hate hearing this, because we all want to follow our muse, but: Don’t set your story in a period other than the present unless you absolutely need to. (And, no, “but I really like the ’70s” isn’t reason enough.) Also, “but it’s a horror film and I want to make my life easy and set it before cell phones” isn’t a good enough reason either.
The reason for this is BUDGET. Even relatively recent history can be far more expensive to shoot than contemporary, due to the need to rent period cars, furnishings, dress a room full of extras in period clothing and hairstyles, and so on. As well, because they know they’re usually a tough sell, it’s usually difficult to get agents and managers to read a period piece feature spec.
Outside the USA, however, period pieces are a much easier ask. Other countries are far less resistant, and many have film funds and historic locations and communities eager to help.
But in general: if you can tell your story just as effectively in the present, then do so. If not, and you need the specific period, then you need to make clear why.
2. Character Counts
Is your protagonist the exact same person at the end as they were in the beginning? If so, it’s time to bring the character arc. Forward momentum isn’t only important for the plot but also for the character. Yes, they can try to change and fail, but they must be on a personal hero’s journey.
Maybe the meek accountant—because of what they experience in the course of the movie—manages to tell off their boss at the end. Or the lonely hearts character—after being put through the wringer—gets up the nerve to ask their secret crush out on a date. Or the claustrophobic shut-in manages to leave their building at the end. Or the self-involved a**hole becomes a social worker. Or… or… or…
Because if it’s all about plot, and characters are simply there to serve the plot, then what we have is a “programmer.” Nothing wrong with those… except you won’t break into the business with them. And if you’re entering GRN, we assume that’s what you’re trying to do.
1. Remember the 1-2 Punch
The number one reason why most of our “considers” don’t get signed every year: their follow-up script isn’t there (or worse, they don’t have one.)
Managers will seldom start working with a writer just based on one script. If they like your sample, the first thing they’ll ask is, “What else have you got?” If the answer is nothing – or your follow-up isn’t at the same level of refinement as the first script – then sorry, pal, thanks for playing.
So make sure you have a kick-ass follow-up that closes the deal. Feature or pilot, doesn’t matter – it just needs to be great, and preferably in the same genre (or adjacent) to the script that got you in the door. This will also demonstrate to the rep that you understand the need to focus and pigeonhole yourself as “the horror guy” or “the thriller girl,” and so on – which makes you easier to market as a creator.
