Pitchposting: The Movie
Our protagonist is a hack movie producer. We open on the first day of shooting, and he's a dick to everyone, which leads into a montage of flare ups on set and in the editing booth, introducing our cast of characters and the recurring problems (the co-stars end up sleeping together, which is a problem because they're married to other people, the director is an auteur on a schlock scifi project, the writer is completely lacking in original ideas and anxious about imposter syndrome, which is warranted in this case).
The movie premieres, the box office numbers aren't great, and a week later it's clear that the whole thing is a flop.
Our protagonist wakes up, and it's the first day of filming again. It's a time loop, and he's only getting out of it if he makes this movie good.
What follows is a guy grappling with trying to make a good movie in the Hollywood system, grappling with budgets and VFX crunch and competing artistic visions and different personalities. He works harder than he's ever worked before, and over several loops (note: most movies take a year from the day shooting starts to the premiere, it would be better narratively to speed this up) he develops strategies for dealing with people and avoiding some of the pitfalls that wrecked this movie the first time. He moves the shooting schedule around, he tweaks the script, he keeps the leads from blowing up their lives (and the movie) with an affair, he anticipates and solves every problem, learning and growing along the way.
And finally, he gets the Golden Loop, the one where he keeps the whole movie firing on all cylinders, where he offers exactly the right comfort and support at exactly the right moment.
The trailer is cut perfectly. In interviews, the cast say that it's one of the most fulfilling projects they have ever worked on. It gets an A+ Cinemascore and huge word-of-mouth after the premiere, straddling the line between high art and mass market appeal.
And then after a week of renown about cinema being saved and various people being heralded as "ones to watch" (though selflessly, never the producer himself), the loop resets.
Our protagonist is stunned. He did it the best he could ever do it, the best anyone could do it, he was on the ball, he gave himself fully to this film, it was Good Art, and he doesn't know how he could have done any better.
And it's then that his family stops being side characters and start to take focus, because no one actually told him that he had to make the Best Movie, this is actually an allegory about workaholics and how maybe it doesn't matter whether the movie was good or not if you had to burn yourself and your personal relationships like jet fuel.
This final act swerve would probably piss some people off, but I think that's why I would like it. The story has been leading you by the nose to think that perfection is what's going to make the loop stop, and this is the mindset of this particular guy. And yes, he grew as a character, but never stopped to consider whether this whole project he's been killing himself over was what the end goal was.
Then he learns about being a good father and reconnects with his wife, and we get more insights into the sorts of problems that he has absolutely not been working on while trying to get this movie made: the ways that making the movie was already all-consuming before the loop.
(Note: I think you could do a similar thing with a different subject, maybe it would work equally well if our protagonist had some other profession they were hyperfocused on. But this is the one I picked to try to pitch this to you.)













