Tag Archives: Back to the Future

My Time Travel Romantic Comedy Pitch

What’s missing from the time travel romantic comedy genre? A harsh dystopia. What if every manic pixie dream girl, was secretly a talent scout from the future? What if someone told you your magnum opus finds an audience long after you die? This story is a commentary on where I think the entertainment industry is headed.

Hand me the keys to the Delorean and I’ll show you an alternate timeline. Here’s some of the irresponsible things I’d do with a time machine.

"Drew, you just ran over Hitler with a Delorean!"
“Drew, you just ran over Hitler with a Delorean!” “HE WAS IN MY WAY!”

My Time Travel Romantic Comedy Pitch

This isn’t a synopsis, it’s a loose pitch, a parade of plot points, a poll of possibilities. If you think it’s something worth developing, say so in the comments.

Logline: A publicist travels back in time to seduce an author whose fame was achieved after his death. Her firm specializes in corrupting these unsung geniuses with stardom, and reaping in the profits.

Character/Drive

In the not too distant future: every film, TV show, and video game is based on an established work. New intellectual properties are considered risky investments. The corporations with the most time-honored masterpieces in their vaults own the entertainment industry.

Ashlynn is a scout for a publishing firm. Charged with copywriting classics before they enter into the public domain, she gets to these stories before their audience can. Violating restrictions on time travel, her firm has offices that stretch back to the dawn of the printing press.

Ashlynn specializes in finding authors who gained notoriety after their deaths. Traveling to when they were in their prime, she wins them over with sweet talk, and publishing contracts. For minuscule costs in the past, she reaps massive benefits for the future.

Ashlynn’s firm is responsible for an alternate reality where Edgar Allen Poe lives to become a bored true crime author, where H.P. Lovecraft struggles to step out of the shadow of his Cthulhu mythos, and fame gives Henry David Thoreau a new found affection for the big city.

Ashlynn pressures Herman Melville into writing a sequel to Moby Dick. It undermines the original’s message, turning the series into a precursor for Jaws.

As a scout, Ashlynn does her best to avoid the firm’s temporal agents, dark figures who travel back in time to enforce the firm’s agenda. They make sure their golden geese keep laying eggs. Whenever an author has a flight of fancy, these shadow figures clip their wings. Sabotaging lives, the agents put these writers back in front of the blank page. The firm regards their authors, who would never have achieved acclaim without them, as their prose spewing property.

Ashlynn watches the agents detain Emily Dickinson, when she tries to burn her journals. She sees them catch Franz Kafka trying to do the same. When he writes about their “Kafkaesque” time bending schemes, she’s surprised to find they publish it as it is.

Ashlynn thwarts Sylvia Plath’s suicide attempt. The agents throw her client into a padded cell, where the price of daylight is a page of poetry.

“Drew, you just hit Bin Laden with a flying skateboard!” “IT’S CALLED A HOVERBOARD, OLD MAN!”

Continue reading My Time Travel Romantic Comedy Pitch

Keane & Drew Argue About Time Travel

FADE IN:

INSERT TITLE: The following is based on actual events. All
dialogue is quoted verbatim. All action is presented exactly
as it happened.

EXT. COFFEE HOUSE – NIGHT

The seats overflow with PATRONS, young and hip, their faces
lit by smartphones and tablets.

There’s heavy foot traffic. A rainbow of skinny jeans and
bandanas. Every face is a pin cushion full of piercings.
Every arm is a blur of sleeve tattoos. One side of the
Patrons’ heads are shaved. The other sides are bleached or
dyed jet-black.

DRIVERS lay on their HORNS. The gridlock stretches across
the windows. A SUBWOOFER blares. The bass sends ripples
through the coffee cups.

A fist SLAMS down on the metal. A tray lifts up, ashes burst
into the air. They land on an iPad on the other end of the
table. It’s owner lifts it up to his face.

DREW, unshaven, unkempt, looks like he’s been 29 for a long
time, blows the ashes from his precious tech. He reaches
into his pocket, produces a keychain light, and checks the
ports for signs of damage.

A napkin falls over the side of the table and glides to the
ground. It’s covered in dotted lines and X’s. Continue reading Keane & Drew Argue About Time Travel