Should You Base Your Script on an Existing Films or TV Show to Boost Your Chances of A Competition Win?

Screenwriters often wonder whether basing their scripts on existing films or television shows can give them an edge in screenplay competitions.

While the allure of writing in an established universe, genre or theme that has reached a measure of success is tempting, the reality of script writing competitions demands a different approach.

Screenplay competition readers are looking for the next big thing, not the next version of this year’s breakout hit.

Screenwriting Competitions: Why Originality Beats Following the Latest Success Story

Sean Baker has never been shy about acknowledging the filmmakers who shaped his career. From the raw naturalism of John Cassavetes to the humanism of Federico Fellini, Baker’s influences are visible throughout his work. Yet no one would mistake Anora for a Cassavetes film or a Fellini homage. It is unmistakably Sean Baker — a guerilla filmmaker using decades of cinematic influence to tell a story only he could tell – not a vague knockoff.

I don’t want to make a Russian gangster movie — It’s been done too many times. — Sean Baker (Anora)

Screenplay competitions aren’t looking for the next The Bear, Obsession, or Backrooms. They’re looking for the writer whose voice feels unique, memorable, and impossible to confuse with anyone else’s. What excites them is discovering the screenplay that points toward the industry’s future not past.

That doesn’t mean writers should ignore the successful films and television series they admire. Every professional screenwriter studies great work. The difference is that professionals treat successful scripts as masterclasses in craft — not templates for their own stories. Resist the urge to copy from the successful films.

Script readers are looking for something bold, original and undeniably unique so the industry remembers your name.

Every Great Screenwriter Has Influences

Originality has never meant creating stories in isolation.

Cinema has always been a conversation between generations of filmmakers – passing the storytelling baton. Alfred Hitchcock influenced Brian De Palma. Martin Scorsese influenced Paul Thomas Anderson. Kathryn Bigelow’s DNA can be seen in countless contemporary action thrillers. The industry’s best writers and directors don’t hide those influences — they acknowledge them. They revere them.

I needed to invent the way that this movie should be made… I needed this to be something that stands on its own and speaks its own language — Celine Song 

Celine Song’s Past Lives draws on decades of intimate relationship dramas, but its raw, emotional honesty comes from her own experiences with immigration, identity, and the idea of lives not lived.

Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance embraces the visual language of classic body horror while transforming it into a sharp commentary on beauty, celebrity, and aging. Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert’s Everything Everywhere All at Once combines martial arts cinema, existentialist, absurdist comedy, family drama, and science fiction into something that feels wildly inventive despite flaunting its influences proudly.

None of these films succeeded because audiences recognized what inspired them. They succeeded because their creators wove those influences into something personal and distinct.

Screenwriting contests reward writers who understand why those movies work and then build upon those lessons with their own personal perspective.

Tony Gilroy has often spoken about the importance of understanding narrative mechanics. His scripts — from Michael Clayton to Andor — demonstrate a writer who understands screenplay structure so completely that the storytelling feels invisible to a reader. Watching Andor isn’t simply an exercise in enjoying a compelling series. It’s an opportunity to study how tension accumulates scene by scene, how political stakes become deeply personal, and how character decisions drive every plot development.

Look at how Black Mirror episodes reconfigure familiar technology anxieties into discrete moral puzzles, or how Fargo repurposes Coen‑like crime tropes into regionally specific character studies. Those shows demonstrate a pattern: take a recognizable genre engine and ask it to answer a new question.

On television, the best way to escape comparison is to make the show’s recurring dramatic engine unmistakable. For The Boroughs, that engine should be the collision of memory and mortality with supernatural intrusion. despite its obvious precursor.

Professional writers constantly reverse-engineer successful screenplays. They outline films they admire. They identify turning points, examine scene objectives, and analyze character arcs and dialogue. Copying those same characters, plots, or emotional beats isn’t going to cut it.

Why Basing Scripts on Existing Films and TV Shows Can Hurt Your Chances of Winning

It’s easy to understand why writers entering screenplay contests gravitate toward familiar formulae.

A successful film has already demonstrated that audiences respond to its premise. Producers invested in it. Critics embraced it. Audiences showed up. Awards followed. Recreating some of those ingredients can feel like a practical strategy to win contests.

The moment a screenplay reminds readers too strongly of another project, the nagging comparison begins. This puts you at a disadvantage because a script reader will judge your script against those rather than on its own meretis and other screenplay contest entries.

Readers read hundreds of screenplays every script competition season – quickly. They recognize familiar storytelling patterns and tropes almost immediately.

Sometimes it’s the premise. Sometimes it’s the protagonist. More often, it’s the accumulation of small decisions that mirror another film’s creative choices. Dialogue rhythms. Character archetypes. Scene construction. Even emotional reveals.

Most writers don’t consciously imitate another screenplay. Influence often happens subconsciously.

That’s why reading broadly — and living broadly — is so important. The more creative experiences you absorb outside of recent hits, the less likely your own work is to become an accidental reflection of someone else’s.

Chasing Trends Means You’re Already Behind

Every breakout film or television series creates a ripple effect.

Sometimes it’s visible in Hollywood development slates. Other times, it shows up in screenplay competitions six months later.

After Knives Out reignited the “Agatha Christie” whodunnit murder mystery, readers saw a surge of scripts featuring eccentric detectives, wealthy families, and inheritance disputes. The Sheep Detectives reframed the murder mystery in such a unique way that made audiences watch.

Following the breakout success of The Bear, workplace dramas suddenly became louder, faster, and more anxiety-inducing, with dysfunctional families lurking behind nearly every professional conflict. The cultural phenomenon of Wednesday inspired a wave of supernatural, creepy boarding-school stories, while Squid Game led to countless high-concept survival thrillers.

None of these genres became unworkable overnight.

The problem wasn’t the premise. It was the timing.

By the time those scripts reached competition readers, they no longer felt fresh and exciting. Readers had already encountered dozens of variations built from the same creative spark and became fatigued by them. Even the strongest entries struggle to escape the shadow of the work that inspired them.

The irony is that the films and television series writers imitate were often considered risky before they became hits.

No executive was asking for another Everything Everywhere All at Once. Nobody was searching for a melancholic romance like Past Lives. The Substance wasn’t created because the market demanded a satirical body-horror film. Those projects succeeded because their writers and directors pursued stories that fascinated them.

Screenwriting competitions reward the same creative instinct and drive. Readers love bold choices that stand out. Safe choices fade into the background.

What Competition Readers Actually Want

Many writers assume competition readers are searching for commercial concepts above all else. Concept matters. It’s rarely enough. Many screenplay contests are genre or format specific, and others find certain types of stories more appealing.

Readers evaluate dozens of scripts every week. After a while, technically competent writing becomes surprisingly common and bland. Well-structured stories. Polished dialogue. Proper formatting. Clear stakes. Functional scripts, but not exciting or noteworthy.

Those elements get your screenplay into contention, but not to a first prize.

Ask Better Questions Before You Start Writing

If you’re developing a screenplay inspired by another film or series, ask yourself a few basic questions before outlining:

Would this story still exist if I had never seen the film inspiring it?

Am I borrowing the premise, or am I responding to the ideas behind it?

What personal experience, observation, or question am I bringing that another writer couldn’t?

If I removed the obvious references to other films or TV shows, would the screenplay still have an identity?

Those questions often reveal whether you’re creating something original or simply rearranging familiar pieces.

Professional writers rarely begin by asking, “How can I write something like Anora?” They’re more likely to ask, “What story am I uniquely qualified to tell?”

That’s the question readers hope your screenplay answers.

The Screenplay Readers Remember Is the Script Only You Could Write

Every screenwriting competition receives highly-polished scripts – many from represented screenwriters..

Many have compelling concepts. Most are professionally formatted to industry standards. Many demonstrate a solid understanding of three-act structure, character arcs, and dialogue.

Only a handful leave readers genuinely excited.

Those are the scripts readers recommend to industry colleagues. The ones they still discuss weeks later. The ones that make them wonder what else the writer has sitting in a drawer (or a computer folder). That excitement almost never comes from familiarity. It comes from originality rooted in confidence.

A winning screenplay doesn’t try to imitate the latest awards contender or streaming sensation. It trusts its own perspective. Ironically, that’s exactly what the films writers admire have always done.

Past Lives didn’t succeed because Celine Song chased a trend. The Substance wasn’t written to capitalize on an existing market. Anora didn’t feel distinctive because Sean Baker ignored cinema’s past. It felt distinctive because he filtered decades of influence through his own worldview.

That’s a model worth following. Study great films obsessively. Read their screenplays. Break them apart scene by scene. Learn how they introduce conflict, reveal character, manage pacing, and create emotional payoff. Then close the script. Put your notes away. Write the story only you can write. Because the goal of a screenwriting competition isn’t to convince readers you could have written someone else’s screenplay. It’s to make readers believe no one else could have written yours.

Refining Your Voice Before You Submit

Every screenplay benefits from another set of experienced eyes before it’s entered into competition.

The challenge isn’t simply identifying plot holes or tightening dialogue. It’s recognizing the moments where your own voice shines — and the places where outside influences begin to overpower it.

That’s where professional screenplay analysis becomes valuable. Objective feedback can reveal when a story feels derivative, highlight opportunities to deepen character and theme, and help sharpen the perspective that makes your screenplay uniquely yours. Rather than steering your script toward trends, thoughtful development focuses on strengthening what already makes your writing distinctive.

The most successful competition entries rarely emerge from a single draft. They evolve through careful rewriting, honest feedback, and a commitment to developing an authentic voice. That’s ultimately what competitions reward — and what screenwriting careers are built on.

Enter A Contest: Get Read. Get Noticed. Win.

Entering a screenplay contest offers screenwriters a credible pathway to industry recognition and produced credits. Contest wins or finalist placements attract attention from producers, managers, and agents actively seeking quality material, often resulting in general meeting opportunities, a script sale, writing assignments, or a produced credit.

For many screenwriters, a contest victory is the crucial first step that transforms their career from unknown to recognized screenwriting professional.

by Staff Writer

From our in-house editorial team.