A great script to a great movie (even though it gives me nightmares just reading the script...) Vividly written and well paced. Sparling has worked his premise really hard, and found every scrap of threat and danger implied in the situation - snakes, loss of communication, light, fire, sand... It's clearly been meticulously researched - the various departments and people Paul gets passed to as he tries to get help, the precise way the company wriggles out of the contract - but it wears that research very lightly, with the exposition incorporated in a very natural way. And the best thing is, it has a powerful goal and sky-high stakes, and the hero (understandably) just never stops going after that goal. No extraneous scenes, no filler - just character-revealing action all the way.

I thoroughly enjoyed this script, an impressive piece of writing. I found myself strongly identifying with Paul, easily imagining my own self in his scenario. I am somewhat claustrophobic and so it was a challenge to read, especially at first until I became psychologically 'acclimatized' and then again at the end as the sand poured in. But that is all to the good as far as the script is concerned. As writers, we want people to FEEL something. With this script, there was a LOT of that going on. Another interesting dynamic was the interplay between the logic of how Paul acted and the outside events that impacted him. As Paul adjusted to his environment or discovered this 'asset' or that [e.g., cellphone, knife, flashlight], his actions struck me as being logical. Even the couple of emotional outbursts where he pitched a fit felt if not coldly logical, at least plausible from the perspective of being a frustrated and worried human being. So Paul acts. And then almost every time his actions reach the end of their viability, a phone call. New information. Now he gets a chance to act again, and again his actions are largely logical and identifiable [at least by me]. Much more to discuss this week, but let me close this initial post with a note about novelistic writing, wherein the screenwriter editorializes about what's going on. I'm definitely going to ask Chris about this because he does it over and over in the script. There are hard-ass screenwriting teachers out there who insist we can only describe what we can see. But compare that to just a few lines of SD in "Buried": * "It becomes clear to him that he is buried." * "He tries to remember the Safe Number he was given." * "He knows preserving oxygen is paramount, so he does his best to calm himself." * "It becomes clear that Jabir is responsible for all this." None of those, per hard-ass script doctrinaires, are appropriate. And yet here they are. As far as I'm concerned, they work -- because they HAVE to. But instead of me pontificating, I'll ask Chris about this stylistic choice and why he made it. I have lots of questions to ask. How about you? Here's your chance. And for those who have yet to read this script, many of them in this series or any at all, this is one you truly should take on. Believe me, you will zoom through it because of how simple the story's setting is, not requiring any shifts in your mind in terms of location, because of the straight-ahead narrative, and because of the rising tension that keeps pushing you through the pages. Excellent script!

I liked this script. A lot. In fact, I didn't want to. It's also 80 pages, which is interesting. I felt like it couldn't be any longer and to have done so would have been to draw out scenes unnecessarily. This script also launched the director's career -- Rodrigo Cortez. Rodrigo wrote a film that my buddy Carles Torrens directed and will be out in 2012 -- EMERGO. Anyway, had to plug that :) I do have to say that this script more than others, really requires a director that sees the writer's vision. Had I directed it, I doubt I would have had the balls to never leave the coffin. Not only did Rodrigo, but he had detailed plans on how he was going to shoot this thing when he was first attracted to the project. I think that's always a good thing as a writer -- if you can inspire others to want to make the script work despite obvious obstacles. That's how you get directors attached. Actors. And producers. (NOTE: I'm not saying writing a script that has inherent obstacles is a bad thing -- like never leaving a 5X8 location. In fact, usually these very obstacles are what make the film unique).

There was something confusing about the phone calls though. Pauls number was sais to be listed unavailable by the state officer. Paul only gave the number to his wife´s voice mail and she got it in the end when she called him. So how on earth did Alan Davenport call him? Where the hell did he get his number?

About three inches to my right, there’s a wall. Three inches to my left, there’s another wall. And about four inches above my head, there’s a roof that’s about to collapse and drown me in sand. I think this situation is pretty contained.

One box, various Timelocks (oxygen, battery life, cell signal, sands through the hour glass…), different optionlocks (try to get out, get me out, find Jabir, make video…), emotional rollercoaster (panic, frustration, despair, rage…), Intentions, strategies, schemes… Thriller! Absolutely brilliant! One question though: The only time I felt like we should get out of the box and into Paul’s mind was on p.63 when Dan asks him, “What the hell happened out there?” and Paul tells us the incident. I thought why not “show”? Does “telling” work? It’s a long dialogue telling a visual story. I didn’t see the movie yet; so, I don’t know how it turned out there. So, I want to know if the director and writer had any arguments about how to feature this particular piece of dialogue.

Tony, I think I can answer that. On P. 66 when Davenport calls, he says: "I also heard from Rebecca Browning at the State Department." Since Paul had talked with her earlier and she had connected him to Brenner, and Brenner knows Paul's cell number, I don't think it's a stretch that Rebecca gave Davenport the number. Could that have been addressed specifically in the script? Yes. But is that a case of overthink? Probably. I'll ask Chris the question anyhow.

First, I couldn’t wait to read this script because of the praise it received as an intelligent, compelling work from one of our guest speakers in Tom Benedek’s current “Network Hollywood” course. UTA agent Keya Khayatian was discussing his conviction that great scripts do, indeed, rise like cream to the surface and find champions. He noted that “The Imitation Game” (top of the 2011 Black List) is the latest script to get huge buzz and then he segued to “Buried,” which he said “blew me away” a few years ago. Mr. Khayatian said “Buried” came to his desk because producer Peter Safran really believed in the project and sent it out to directors. He read it and sent it on to his client, director Rodrigo Cortes. “He loved the challenge of it,” Mr. Khayatian said. “I thought the challenge of it was what made it really special, and it was very well written, as well. It was a very tight script in that the logic of it worked, and the character inside of it worked. It was a very grim script. It was a tough, tough movie. If you’ve seen the movie you know what I’m talking about, but it really sang on the page. And when I read it I became very passionate about it and other people who read it started feeling the same way, too.” It “sang on the page.” I love that description. It sang for me, too. The action lines were clear, vivid and compelling. The novelistic style read so smoothly that I, as an avid fiction reader, felt right at home. The dips into Paul Conroy’s interior thoughts felt entirely natural. Plus, in a pragmatic sense, I think they were needed to keep the reader in synch with Paul Conroy’s changing emotional states, new insights and the motivations for his various actions. For most of the script, he’s alone and out of contact with others. The alternative would have been for him to mutter his own on-the-nose thoughts to himself. Ugh. Long scenes and the single location also helped to create a familiar, fictional read. Gone were the multiple scene breaks, new location descriptions and new character intros that tend to pull you out of the moment to envision the new things and set them in your mind’s eye. Instead, we’re isolated with Paul -- alone, injured, groggy and completely unaware of how or why he is waking up, hands and mouth bound, in stifling darkness. By P. 2, when Paul realizes he’s in a buried coffin with sand sifting in and he cries out for help, I was in for the ride. The switch from intellectual curiosity to empathetic involvement took one and a quarter pages. Props to the writer, I say. This is the first contained thriller script I’ve read. Specifically considering its sub-genre challenges, I was knocked out by several achievements: • With absolute internal logic, it elevated stakes by widening the impact and ramifications of Paul’s “situation” to a twitchy near international incident … while giving voice to three distinct sides of a tragic murder-kidnap situation in Iraq … exposing cruel corporate CYA deniability and greed … and deepening our sense of Paul’s personal loss via an intimate moment with his wife on the phone. • Using minimalist yet well conceived props, it gave Paul all the tools he needed to try to save himself – and, conversely, to become a media propaganda pawn. Kidnapper Kamir provided him with the iffy cell phone, a knife, two glow sticks and a flashlight (assuming the lighter was Paul’s). When Kamir ordered Paul to cut off his thumb, I realized to my horror that he’d done this before and he knew exactly the progression his ransom-demand ploy would take. • It used those props masterfully to create tension-building good news/bad news shifts. The lighter, flashlight, glow sticks and cell phone were inherently ticking clocks. Plus, the knife and cell phone became ticking bombs as their intended uses by Kamir became clear. • It used those same props to organize the extremely long scenes into de facto mini-scenes, keeping action moving by focusing our attention on one detail and then another in always-failing light. The superb planning and writing reminded me of how “Twelve Angry Men” used groupings of jurors … at the table … in the corner … one man joining another group… to create mini-scenes within the jury room. I really enjoyed reading "Buried" and look forward to the discussions this week.

But that´s the thing that confuses me reading the script, probably wouldn´t be bothered watching the film, that Paul never gives his number to Brenner. He says he figured it out and wonders how Brenner didn´t but he actually never gives him the number, that´s the thing. He gives him Jabir´s number but never ever his own. Overthinking? Heavily. Confused for nothing? Probably.