Biografia

Uses a kidnapping as a plot device (Máquina Mortífera (1987), O Último Boy Scout (1991), Despertar de um Pesadelo (1996), Homem de Ferro 3 (2013)).

His scripts often combine action, thriller, noir and (black) comedy elements.

Five of his screenplays begin with the letter "L"

Six of his screenplays are all set at Christmastime: Máquina Mortífera (1987), O Último Boy Scout (1991), Despertar de um Pesadelo (1996), Beijos e Tiros (2005), Homem de Ferro 3 (2013), and the unproduced Shadow Company.

His screenplays usually involve a (private) detective who is (often involuntarily) paired with someone who tends to solve things less professionally, which leads to a love/hate relationship: Máquina Mortífera (1987), O Último Boy Scout (1991), Despertar de um Pesadelo (1996), Beijos e Tiros (2005) and Dois Caras Legais (2016).

Was 22 when he sold the Máquina Mortífera (1987) screenplay.

The $1.75 million he received for his screenplay for O Último Boy Scout (1991) was the highest to date in 1990. He then topped it when he sold the script to Despertar de um Pesadelo (1996) for $4 million a few years later. Both were box-office disappointments that later found cult audiences on home video.

After being the highest paid screenwriter in Hollywood, he disappeared as a writer in the late '90s. He recently admitted he withdrew due to pressure and a growing contempt for his own commercial, action-packed material.

Shared a house with future successful screenwriters like Fred Dekker (Deu a Louca nos Monstros (1987), Noite dos Arrepios (1986), RoboCop 3 (1993)) and Ed Solomon (MIB: Homens de Preto (1997), As Panteras (2000), O 5º Passo (2003)). They called their place the "Pad O' Guys" and considered themselves a fraternity for the ultimate movie buffs by staging and dissecting John Woo fight scenes in the front yard at three in the morning.

Walked off Máquina Mortífera 2 (1989), because he wanted the film to end with Martin Riggs dying from his wounds. Warner Bros. wanted to continue the series and had him survive. As a result, his script was re-written.

I'd like to be the sort of raconteur who rattles off quips and bon mots in the moment, but I'm not going to hit you with the dazzler. Most people just say nothing all of the time.

Dialogue can be fun but most people don't study it.

What I missed was the ability to tell stories that felt more like novels -- that had more edge to them, and more risk. There are a lot of obscure movies in the '60s that are thrillers that don't have happy endings. Odd movies like Corrida Contra o Destino (1971) or even À Queima-Roupa (1967) or Um Lance no Escuro (1975) that had this sort of bittersweetness about them -- this melancholy where the ending was, you know, "Wow, that's great, I guess." And you didn't know whether the hero had been scarred for life. I think there was just a weight, a gravity, to movies that were made back then -- where you could take a left turn and the studio wouldn't go, "Whoa whoa whoa whoa! This doesn't fit our demographic!" And today -- not with Warners, because I had a great experience with them, but in general -- I think there's a pressure to sort of sanitize things. Especially today, with the prevalence of the Moral Majority, it's almost like you can't get away with giving someone a harsh look without some citizens' group coming down on you.

I struggled with that for quite a while -- trying to see like a child again, and realizing why I'd started in the movies. To get that excitement back, and lose some of the more unsavory lessons I'd been forced to swallow.

I'm not in the market any more to crash helicopters or blow up the Washington Monument. I'm certainly content to stick at -- if not the $15-million level -- then certainly below the level of blockbuster.