'Real Steel 2': Lessons from My Screenplay Pitch
Thirteen years ago, I was asked to develop a sequel take for Hugh Jackman's robot boxing family film...so, let's see what screenwriters can learn from the experience
Real Steel, a charming family sports film with a sci-fi twist, hit theaters 15 years ago. If you don’t recall it by its title, you might better remember it as that robot boxing film that Hugh Jackman starred in. It made $300 million at the box office, which didn’t exactly rock Fox’s world, but it was considered a modest hit at the time and has continued to generate affection from fans – which is why a journalism buddy from way back, Frosty from Collider, won’t stop bugging anyone involved with the film about when a sequel is going to happen. Its director Shawn Levy addressed the question late last year again, suggesting the prospects were far grimmer than he wished they were. When I read his bleak update, my first thought was, “Enh, that makes sense. The film’s time has passed.” My next thought was, “Wait, wait, wait…didn’t I pitch to write that sequel?”
I quickly searched through my dead projects file – which every screenwriter should maintain because you never know when you’re going to want to steal from your own work – and discovered that yes, yes I had indeed developed a pitch for a Real Steel sequel back in 2013. This was been back when my screenwriting career was almost entirely focused on big commercial features, before my TV series “Dracula” debuted and made me a hot commodity in the U.S. TV world for a few years and, of course, before I largely abandoned Hollywood for the international film/TV market when I left America for good in 2017.
Having no memory of this Real Steel 2 pitch, though, I began to read the document I found…and yep, still no memory of it.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later than I suddenly remembered sitting down with ImageMovers (Robert Zemeckis’s company) that it all came back to me. This isn’t exactly uncommon, I should say. For the first seven or eight years of my career, I think I was juggling 10 to 15 takes/pitches at a time, always trying to line up the next big project to move my career forward. Most working screenwriters would no doubt say relatively the same. It can be a numbers game, especially when producers pursue writers through bake-offs – hearing multiple takes, sometimes dozens of them, in a kind of competition for the job.
So, what did I think of this Real Steel 2 take I developed with ImageMovers?
Well…I didn’t hate it.
In fact, I rather liked a lot about it despite a handful of narrative decisions I now regret. I think it significantly builds on the world of the original film, takes the father-son relationship to another level, and really nails the theme from multiple directions in a way so that the resolution feels that much more satisfying. It even suggests another sequel that would further evolve the series in (theoretically) exciting ways.
Today, I thought I’d share this take with you because, if you’re a screenwriter or a fan of Real Steel, I think you’ll take a lot from this. In the former case, you’ll get a peek at how I try to build a Hollywood-style film and communicate that information to readers/listeners and, in the latter, you can consider this a bit of fan fiction about what might’ve happened next to robot operator Charlie, his son Max, and their robot Atom.
Some more notes regarding what you’re about to read:
Here’s the premise of the original 2011 film, paraphrasing Wikipedia’s intro: The story features a down-on-his-luck former boxer (Hugh Jackman), whose sport is now played by robots, as he and his estranged son Charlie find an abandoned robot named Atom and train it to be a promising fighter. Real Steel was written by John Gatins with a story by Dan Gilroy and Jeremy Leven, based on a short story from the legendary Richard Matheson. Shawn Levy directed, as I already mentioned.
My pitch is about 25% longer than I prefer these days, believing most people listening to this sort of thing start tuning out around the 15-minute mark. If you’re a screenwriter, I think it would be a useful exercise to print this out and try to work out what bits can be binned to make this a more economical pitch. More on that at the end of the article.
While I call this a pitch, you could just as easily call it an outline. That’s because the producers pushed me to flesh out far more of the proposed film’s structure than I would’ve preferred. The difference is that this pitch/outline comes with a lot of emotional commentary for me, explaining why decisions were made and driving home the emotional journeys of the characters and the film’s “broken parent-child relationship” theme.
I wouldn’t suggest anything about this take is Shakespeare. I was working with the DNA of the first film and according to producer requests about where to take the story and tell it, which limited the take to a relatively conventional structure, I think. But I am pleased by how the twists and turns, the way the characters move in and out of each others’ lives in unexpected ways, ultimately producing a surprise third act team-up that grabs all the thematic threads and ties them into a satisfying bow. This is a character-driven Hollywood blockbuster.
Lastly, I don’t want to confuse you about the importance of any of this. This is just one of more than a hundred takes I came up with in Hollywood, on any number of projects, which went nowhere. I don’t even recall why this one was passed on or if it was even officially passed on. Quite often, producers just dismiss you with something like, “We’re going to discuss internally. Let us get back to you,” then your reps follow up and follow up and follow up and tell you it’s not happening. But this is a cool learning opportunity I wish I had had when I was learning how to pitch (and outline during professional development processes) because – here – you can read this and, even if you think it’s shit, interrogate its author to better understand the process and improve your own game. I’m at your service.
At the end of this pitch, I’ll offer some wrap-up thoughts on the good and bad of the take. Then, you should jump into the comments and ask me anything you want about the work here or the development process. Now, let’s dive in…
OPENING: WHAT A SEQUEL TO REAL STEEL DEMANDS
A new challenge to CHARLIE and MAX’s relationship. Charlie’s grown up, he’s accepted his responsibilities as a dad, but that doesn’t mean he’s any good at it. More, it doesn’t mean Max, who is FOUR YEARS OLDER, isn’t aching to rebel a little against the man-child who takes care of him.
An explanation of ATOM’s mysterious origins.
Bigger fights and an INTERNATIONAL SETTING, to build upon the promise of the first film.
And, of course, a rematch between Atom and ZEUS (his final opponent from the first film)
SO, WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?
The first REAL STEEL was about a father and son coming together to form a family. Atom was the perfect expression of that union. Max had to make Charlie see the value in the robot, just like he had to make Charlie see the value in him. Ultimately, with Charlie’s “fatherly” care, Atom was able to shine and become the People’s Champion.
The sequel sees Max four years older – 15 years old now – and, as such, should deal with the emerging struggle for personal identity and independence that happens when kids hit such an age.
I don’t want Max to be some whiny little kid anymore. This is his COMING-OF-AGE STORY, harsh because growing up is harsh – but inspiring, too, the same way that the first REAL STEEL was for Charlie the Man-Child.
How do we do this?
Well, Max is growing tired of the fact that Charlie, Atom’s remote operator, is seen as the champion behind Atom – not him. He aches to be seen as his own man, to stand on his own two feet. He’s 15, after all; it’s only normal.
But ultimately, he also needs to realize that only with his father, ONLY AS A FAMILY, will he ever be able to be truly great.
This goes vice versa for Charlie. He’s allowed his success to go to his head a bit, too. He isn’t giving Max the credit he’s due. He’s overlooked how badly he needs Max.
Charlie’s girlfriend Bailey once said of watching him fight Niko Tandy: “He was beautiful.” But Charlie was never really a contender. He just didn’t have it in him. Max makes him a champion.
Atom is the perfect expression of this union between father and son. Neither of them can make him great by themselves.
LET’S TALK ABOUT THE ACTUAL STORY NOW…
I loved the opening of the first REAL STEEL. Plodding away in rural America as Alexi Murdoch’s “All My Days” play. The weariness, the grind of the life Charlie leads as exemplified by that lonely drive and his arrival at the fairgrounds.
I want to duplicate that feeling, but transpose it to the exhausting life of being top-level celebrity robot boxers on the road. And we’ll do it wordlessly, just like the original.
In the opening montage/credit sequence, we’ll tell the audience everything they need to know about who these characters have become over the past four years – as family and as robot boxers.
Open on Charlie and Max waking early on the morning of a MEXICO CITY fight. They silently go through the rituals they’ve developed from four years on the road together…
Breakfast in the hotel room; Charlie reverses the plates since they were set out in front of the wrong person. Max tries to drink an energy drink with his eggs, but Charlie won’t let him. As soon as Max turns to dump it, Charlie pours a mini bottle of liquor in his coffee.
In the hallway: Charlie and Max spar playfully, warming up. Charlie, we realize, has been teaching Max to box. Max is getting better, but still gets finger-tapped on the chin occasionally.
In the elevator: Charlie tries to ignore fans who have a boxing magazine with Atom’s and Charlie’s images on the cover. He deflects attention to Max to get them out of his hair, but they don’t care about Max. Max, of course, is annoyed.
The drive to the stadium: holographic billboards announce the fight, displaying Charlie’s image. Max’s image painfully absent.
At the stadium, they check on Atom; each doing their part, frustrated when either gets something wrong.
They are, we’re beginning to realize, both a well-oiled machine and an utterly dysfunctional married couple.
Smash cut to:
The fight. Loud and exciting. Dialogue now.
Charlie operates Atom, fighting exclusively in shadow-box function. Max uses a terminal, like Tak Mashido (Zeus’s operator) did in the last film, to help provide an overview of Atom’s systems and analyze the opponent.
There’s a synergy between father and son, but, like bumpy marriages, there’s also bickering. Max has ideas, but gets ignored.
And when victory comes, the audience chanting Atom’s name, it’s Charlie who again gets all the credit as Max watches from the sidelines.
Max is just the cute sidekick, a sidekick whose greatest value was once his public personality, like his dance moves, but he just doesn’t want to play along anymore.
As for the INCITING INCIDENT…
Max is approached by a slick financier/manager, JOHNNY SOLOMON—the Don King of robot boxing—who offers to lease Atom, a management deal, and allow Max to operate him. Max declines, still loyal to his dad.
But then Bailey, who’s become something of a beloved stepmom to Max, tells Charlie that SHE’S PREGNANT.
Max overhears this. He acts excited. But in his mind, he just lost something. Charlie wasn’t there for Max growing up and Charlie has spent the past four years trying to make up for that, often needing to be reminded he’s the adult in the relationship. But now some baby is going to get the real thing. They’re going to get Charlie as a real dad. What Max never got.
When Charlie finally demands that Max tell him what’s wrong, why he’s been acting so crazy in and out of the ring, Max unloads about how he’s been treated rather than admit how he really feels.
Charlie, not buying any of it, offhandedly says that he hopes he teaches his new kid to show some gratitude.
Max subsequently uses his aunt and uncle, DEBORAH and MARVIN, still his legal guardians, to reapproach Johnny Solomon and ACCEPT HIS OFFER.
Charlie returns to Tallet’s Gym to find Atom being loaded onto a truck. What the hell is going on? And what are they doing here? He points at Deborah and Marvin. Max now breaks the news to Charlie, which Charlie greets with prideful anger. Max can’t do this; he doesn’t have the right. Oh, but Max does. Well, Charlie says, he’s his father; he forbids it. But Deborah and Marvin point out his role as a father has been a courtesy. Charlie, thus, feels betrayed by his son; even goes so far as to warn him, “If you leave like this way, you can’t come back.” These words, despite stinging, strengthen Max’s resolve.
ACT 1 TURN: Max moves Atom out of Tallet’s Gym as Charlie, the betrayed father, watches them go.
By the way, you’re probably wondering WHAT’S HAPPENED TO ZEUS.
Well, he’s still undefeated, but FARRA LEMKOVA’s father—this film’s new primary corporate bad guy—has refused to grant Atom a rematch. We learn all about this in the first act.
Farra, as you know, is Zeus’s owner.
GRIGORY LEMKOVA—a scary Russian oligarch—has forced Farra to use all of her considerable sway in the league to prevent a rematch from happening.
This is frustrating to Farra, who is anxious to vindicate Zeus in the ring after Atom humiliated him, her, and TAK MASHIDO – and, more, firmly establish herself AS INDEPENDENT OF HER FATHER.
Atom has consequently been forced to jump through hoops, to try and qualify for one. Remember, in the last film he was granted a match; this went outside of standard league protocol.
Farra, you see, gets expanded a bit in the sequel. She gets a storyline of her own, her DADDY ISSUES MIRRORING MAX’S in a way. She needs to stand on her own two feet, independent of her father, something that will come back and bite Grigory on the ass in the third act.
As for Zeus, I want to expand on something the first film suggested—
Zeus represents corporate power. He is the epitome of corporate greed thanks to his owner, Grigory, a Russian Rupert Murdoch in many ways.
Atom is the down-home alternative. The everyman. The little man who wants to rise up.
Meanwhile, Max quickly demonstrates his mettle as a robot boxer operator in several matches around the globe (accompanied by Deborah and Marvin, which leads to a few jokes since they’re not the world’s most competent parental figures). Anyone who doubted Max could step into his father’s shoes is quickly silenced. MAX CAN BOX!
That doesn’t mean he’s not frustrated by how Johnny Solomon has had Atom repainted and advertisements attached to his chassis. Atom is forced to star in holo-commercials, too.
In other words, Atom has been made TO SELL OUT.
Quick note: Max fights using a two-handed controller, not the shadow-box function his father excels at.
Charlie watches Max’s fights from home, distraught, as Bailey insists he fix it with Max. Charlie also deals with the realization that, without Atom, he has no viable income. What money he had was lost in bad business dealings. How is he going to take care of Bailey and the baby?
Charlie visits a stadium during a match, to ask a favor from a promoter friend to get him out of his bind, but all he’s offered is the equivalent of glorified mechanic’s work.
Here, Charlie runs into Max—an awkward encounter in which the prideful Charlie still doesn’t apologize—but also NIKO TANDY, a fellow robot boxer whom Charlie has a past with.
Niko, as you’ll recall, almost lost to Charlie years ago. A former human boxing champion, he’s never forgotten how Charlie embarrassed him and, consequently, embarrasses Charlie right back now.
It’s hard not to feel bad for Charlie, how his life has suddenly wound up; so many dreams and so many bad mistakes.
FIRST REVERSAL: Max gets word that Atom, a triumphant robot boxer under his watch, will fight THE GREAT WALL – China’s monstrous, state-financed answer to Zeus.
This fight was engineered entirely by Grigory Lemkova, by the way. Part of a strategy.
In the lead-up to the fight, Charlie, at Bailey’s insistence, tries to apologize to Max by telling Max to be careful with the Great Wall. Unsure what else to say, he offers advice that comes off as know-it-all direction. Max rejects this, realizing that, despite his many victories, his father still doesn’t believe he has it in him to be a great robot boxer.
Fight night in the Great Wall’s native China: ATOM VERSUS THE GREAT WALL. Maybe a venue like the Olympic Stadium, neon- and holograph-lit skyscrapers rising up above the stadium.
Max STARTS OUT ON TOP, anxious to prove to his dad, wherever he is, what he can do – but then THE TIDE TURNS. Atom begins to get his ass kicked by the Great Wall’s powerful, hammer-like fists.
Charlie and Bailey watch from home. Charlie grumbles encouragements, fight advice from here. “Watch his left, kid. Watch his left!” Bailey slowly goes to tears, squeezing Charlie’s hand.
Atom falls in slow motion, chassis ripped open and head cracked and sparking.
Max cries out, leaping into the ring; Charlie has to look away; Bailey, lowers her head, hand on her pregnant belly.
This is our MIDPOINT: Atom is crippled, unable to be turned back on — essentially dead. Charlie and Max’s relationship broken. Their individual dreams in ruins.
