James Ellroy is legit. Straight up one of the best writers. Period. But in particular, he writes edgy material and writes the hell out of the crime genre. Let’s go back to 2002 and DARK BLUE. A gritty story by Ellroy (screenplay revisions by David Ayer) that successfully produces a pleasing anti-hero story. The anti-hero script that centers on detectives or cops are so rarely done well as they are hard to pull off.

Since this place (SU) is into opening scenes lately, here’s a one from DARK BLUE (note: format of the script had to be changed from original):

Super over a BLACK SCREEN: Monday, April 27, 1992

EXT. AVALON BLVD - SOUTH CENTRAL - SUNSET
A Spring sky glows pink as the evening sun dives into the Western 
horizon. Evening traffic fills these troubled streets of dingy 
storefronts a few miles South of downtown.

ANGLE ON

LUCKY LIQUOR a corner store with a battered Buick parked out 
front. Two men inside, driver, ORCHARD, is black. He pulls on 
his Newport and flicks it out the window.

Orchard swigs from a pint of vodka and passes it to the passenger, 
SIDWELL, a white guy. Both are in early 30's and just plain 
vicious. They watch the street. Check the mirrors. A scanner 
on the seat monitors LAPD RADIO TRAFFIC.

               SIDWELL
     They ain't gettin'off.
     Jury's got motherfuckin'
     eyes. Rodney King is
gettin' his ass whupped.

              ORCHARD
     Ain't one brother on that
     jury. Simi Valley. Good
     decent white folk up there,
     they suckin' them cop's dicks.

               SIDWELL
     Should'a had the trial here.
     Verdict'd be in already. And
     four cops'Id be selling ass
     in Tehachape.

               ORCHARD
     That's why they moved the venue.
     Cops're protected.

Orchard CLICKS his tongue in disgust and pulls silenced 
Ruger .22 pistol. And dons a skimask.

               SIDWELL
     That shit's on tape. You
     can't fuck with that. They
     goin' down.

               ORCHARD
     They go down, I'll buy you
     some pussy. But if they walk,
     you spottin' me a ho.

They shake. Both men put on gloves. Orchard exits the car 
with a heavy canvas bag. Sidwell follows, slipping on a 
skimask and sunglasses, his own silenced .22 held against 
his thigh.

INT. LUCKY LIQUOR - SAME
The KOREAN WOMAN tending the till SHRIEKS with surprise 
as Orchard charges with his autopistol ...

POP-POP-POP-POP -- She swats at the bullets like bees, 
hands flinging blood, then three in the face drop her 
like a rock.

Sidwell positions himself just inside the entrance, 
watches the street, weapon ready.

Orchard vaults the counter. Charges through a bead 
curtain to stairs in back that lead to the owner's 
modest apartment.

INT. PARKER CENTER - CONFERENCE ROOM - SAME TIME
A warm sunset casts itself across the LAPD Command Staff, 
five solemn, serious men line a walnut table, among them:

DEPUTY CHIEF BARCOMB, number 2 in LAPD, he's the senior 
officer present and tapped for Chief when Gates goes. The
big Mick cop leafs through reports.

ASSISTANT CHIEF ARTHUR HOLLAND, the only black in the room, 
is imposing from years of 'weigntlifting. A tough old veteran, 
he fought his way to the top of a segregated LAPD.

DETECTIVE BOBBY TEDROW, 27, sits before these imposing 
inquisitors. Dapper and cool, tailored and crisp, he
reeks competence and confidence.

              BARCOMB 
     Detective Tedrow. If you had
      a little time machine and 
     could travel back to the day 
     of the shooting, to that 
     afternoon when you killed Mr.
     Robertson. If you could do 
     that, I'd like to hear what 
     you'd do differently.

The beautiful STENOGRAPHER'S fingers dance across her keys.
She trades a look with Tedrow and blushes.

INT. LUCKY LIQUOR - LITTLE GIRL'S BEDROOM - SAME
The squat safe has been fully exposed. It's secured to a 
steel beam with four huge bolts. Orchard locks a gunpowder 
powered boltcutter on the head of a bolt ...

BAM! Shears it clean. KERSHACK! --He shucks the fired 
cartridge from the tool, drops in a fresh one.

ANGLE ON

-- A security monitor in the hall outside the bedroom.

INSERT MONITOR -- A high angle view of the store entrance. 
A YOUNG WOMAN enters, past Sidwell, aiming at her head ...

OVER: BAM! KERSHACK! Another bolt is cut.
The Young Woman crumples with a slug in her medulla.

INT. PARKER CENTER - CONFERENCE ROOM - SAME
Barcomb gathers papers with finality.

               BARCOMB
     I think we've kept Detective
     Tedrow here long enough.

               HOLLAND
     Chief Barcomb. I have a few
     questions for the detective.

               BARCOMB
     Fire away, Chief Holland.

               HOLLAND
     It's been a long day, and I
     know too well these chairs
     aren't padded, so I'll be quick.

INT. LUCKY LIQUOR - SAME
INSERT MONITOR -- Now a Hispanic WOMAN enters. Sidwell 
aiming at her head. Her DAUGHTER, 7, runs in the store 
and grabs mommy's hand.

ON ORCHARD
BAM! KERSHACK! The final bolt is sheared. He tears the 
safe free with gloved hands. Exits the bedroom with his 
tools and THUDS down the stairs.

INSERT MONITOR --No one in view. Just three blood trails 
leading to a pile of feet peeking from an aisle.

EXT. LUCKY LIQUOR - SAME
Orchard runs out, the heavy safe cradled in his arms. 
Then Sidwell -- His sunglasses fly off his face, he 
collided with a black OLD MAN with grey hair and beard, 
overalls. The Old Man lands on his backside, finds 
himself staring into Sidwell'S BLUE EYES ...

POP! -- Sidwell shoots him in the throat. He and Orchard 
hop in the Buick. And SQUEAL down Avalon.

Pay attention to the detail... the word choice, the pace of the narrative. The beats of the scene and how it flows. There's not just beats in your story, but in each and every scene you are a poet, a freaking rapper of words. Painstakingly ponder your word selection and use an  active voice in your writing. There's a pace and word selection here that is visceral and so powerfully visual.

"POP-POP-POP-POP -- She swats at the bullets like bees, hands flinging blood, then three in the face drop her like a rock."

The above piece is brilliant. I can't think of a more visual bit of description of someone getting greased as that.

The last decent cop flick I saw was END OF WATCH and guess who wrote (and directed) it, David Ayer who is in the 10% group of writers who can pull that off. It wasn't an anti-hero story, but it was intense and had a very edgy, bleak ending that I loved.

I don't know if this doesn't make any sense and you can't see how the construction, word choice, and beat (it's flow) is so wonderful, then I can't help you!

HC