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GatehouseWorking name

Legal design

Not a submissions platform. Designed around the law.

Submission services exist to get scripts read; there are plenty of them. Gatehouse was designed around the claims studios fear. Every step exists to take away something a claimant’s lawyer would need.

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Record

Salt Lines

  1. 3 Mar · 14:02Writer identity checked; terms and release signed (v3.1)
  2. 3 Mar · 14:03Draft 2 received and identified
  3. 3 Mar · 14:09Summary approved by writer (4 pp)
  4. 3 Mar · 14:09Script locked with writer’s password
  5. 3 Mar · 14:10Compared with project list — clear
  6. 12 Mar · 11:48Summary read by 2 people, Pictures team
  7. —Script: never unlocked

Claim by claim

Six things a claimant says. How the design answers each.

For each: what the claim means, what their lawyer needs to make it stick, and the part of Gatehouse that takes it away.

  • Terms and release
  • The lock
  • The project list
  • The summary
  • The record

“We had a deal.”

Terms and release

California courts accept that pitching an idea can create an unwritten promise: use it, and you pay. No contract needed.

Their lawyer needs
Evidence the studio accepted the script knowing payment was expected.
How the design takes it away
Before uploading, the writer signs terms and a release: sending creates no deal, no duty to read or pay, and studios develop similar ideas independently. Narrow and fair, so it holds up — not a blanket “you can never sue” waiver.

“You had my script.”

The lock

A copying claim starts by showing the studio could have seen the work. A script sitting in a company inbox is often enough.

Their lawyer needs
A believable route from the script to someone at the studio.
How the design takes it away
Your staff never receive it. The script is locked with the writer’s password — even we can’t open it. The only thing a studio can read is a summary, and only if it’s clear of your projects.

“That’s my story.”

The project list

Studios develop overlapping ideas all the time. When a film resembles a script, it’s easy to assume it was taken.

Their lawyer needs
Similarity, plus a story about how it got from the writer to the project.
How the design takes it away
Your project list is dated and sealed. Anything too close to it is held back before a word reaches your team. Projects started later are checked back against scripts already received, so you know where you stand before you begin.

“You saw the version with the twist.”

The summary

Scripts get rewritten. A writer may say you saw a later draft; you remember the earlier one.

Their lawyer needs
Doubt about which draft, and which pages, the studio saw.
How the design takes it away
Each draft is one exact file, locked since it arrived. What the studio saw is the summary — a document the writer approved themselves.

“You made that up afterwards.”

The record

Records that appear after a dispute begins look convenient, and the other side will say so.

Their lawyer needs
A record they can paint as self-serving or written after the fact.
How the design takes it away
Entries are made as things happen, timestamped by an independent service, and never edited. You hold signed copies from day one.

“It wasn’t theirs to send.”

Terms and release

Sometimes the sender turns out to be underage, using a false name, or not the owner of the script.

Their lawyer needs
A sender whose agreement doesn’t hold up.
How the design takes it away
Writers confirm who they are, that they’re adults and that they own the work, and click to sign — before they can upload.

When a similar project comes later

Similar isn’t stolen. The record can show the difference.

Studios develop ideas that resemble scripts they were sent, for perfectly innocent reasons. Gatehouse is built so the facts are clear — for the writer and the studio — long before anyone calls a lawyer.

Problem 1

The honest misunderstanding

A writer sends a script. A year later the studio starts something similar, for reasons that have nothing to do with it. The writer sees the film and, quite sincerely, assumes they were robbed. Most “you stole my idea” claims start exactly like this.

Problem 2

The cynical studio

A studio could leave its real projects off the list, so that everything reaches it — then claim it was “already working on that” when a similar script turns up.

An example

  1. March 2026 · Writer

    Sends “Salt Lines”

    Not close to anything on the studio’s list. Nobody at the studio chooses to read the summary.

  2. April 2027 · Studio

    Adds a new project

    “Storm-bound island thriller” goes on the list — dated and sealed, so it can’t be backdated.

  3. April 2027 · Gatehouse

    Looks back

    The new line is compared with every summary already received. Salt Lines is close. The record shows nobody at the studio read it. Your lawyers are told, privately.

  4. 2029 · Writer

    Sees the film, and asks

    A named reviewer checks the record and answers plainly: nobody at the studio read your summary or unlocked your script, and the project began a year after yours arrived.

The look-back check

Every new project you add is compared with the summaries you’ve already received. If one is close, your lawyers hear privately — and learn whether anyone on your team read it — before work begins.

A list nobody can backdate

Each version of your list is sealed with its date. A project counts from the day it’s added. Nobody — not you, not us — can slip in an earlier date.

Sealed proof of earlier work

Optional: lodge a fingerprint of a treatment or outline, made on your own computer. The document never leaves your building, but it can prove later exactly what existed, and when.

Ask the record

A writer who sees a similar film can ask. A named reviewer, under NDA, checks who read what and when, and gives both sides a plain answer — without revealing anything about your plans.

Nobody read it

If nobody read it, that’s now on the record, dated, before a single page of your project is written.

Someone did read it

If someone did read it, you know before you commit. You can keep those people off the project, write down how the idea came about, or talk to the writer about an option. A phone call now beats a claim later.

Why holding back your list backfires

Leaving projects off your list doesn’t help you. A project that isn’t on the list has no dated proof behind it — and the record shows exactly which summaries your team read before a project appeared. Holding back only removes your own cover, and can count against you.

Fair to writers, too

Built for the studio. Fair to the writer.

The protection leans the studio’s way — that’s the point. But writers get real safeguards of their own, and terms that are seen to be fair are terms that hold up.

Proof of what they sent

A dated receipt for every draft — useful to a writer in any dispute, with anyone.

Their script, their password

Nobody reads it unless they unlock it, and every unlock is recorded.

They write what’s shown

The studio only ever sees a summary the writer approved.

No AI gatekeeper

Nothing scores, ranks or rejects them. People decide.

Why it isn’t a submissions platform

Same front door. Entirely different building.

A submissions platform and Gatehouse both start with a writer uploading a file. Everything after that is built for a different purpose.

What it’s for

Platform: Getting writers read

Gatehouse: Keeping the studio clear of claims

Who it’s built around

Platform: The writer

Gatehouse: The studio’s legal position — with fair treatment for writers

What your team receives

Platform: The pile

Gatehouse: Nothing, unless a summary is clear of your projects and you choose to read it

Your plans

Platform: Not their concern

Gatehouse: A confidential project list, kept in your own private space, never shown to anyone

The script

Platform: Stored, browsable, often scored

Gatehouse: Locked with the writer’s password. We can’t read it

The record

Platform: An upload log, if that

Gatehouse: Built around the questions a claimant’s lawyer would ask

The record, in detail

What’s on file, and why it holds up.

The technical part, for counsel and security teams.

Terms and release, signed first

Writers click to sign the studio’s terms — no small grey links. We keep the exact version they saw.

The exact file

Each draft is converted to ScreenJSON, a standard screenplay format, and given a unique fingerprint (a cryptographic hash). Nothing is overwritten.

Encrypted with the writer’s password

Read once, to write the summary; encrypted at all times otherwise. Only the writer can unlock it, for a named studio, and that is recorded.

Made at the time

Entries are written as events happen, timestamped by an independent service, and never edited — any change would show.

Dated, sealed project list

Every version of your list is sealed with its date and can’t be backdated, so you can show what you were already making, and when.

Copies you keep

Export signed copies of the record whenever you like. They don’t depend on Gatehouse staying in business.

Who can see what

Locked by the writer. Private to you. Under NDA.

A record is only useful if it’s still there — and still trustworthy — years from now.

Open-source model, our own servers

Summaries are written by a powerful open-source model we run ourselves. Nothing goes to an outside AI company.

Never used for training

Scripts are read once, for the summary. Nothing is kept by the model, nothing trains it.

A private space per studio

Each studio’s list and record are walled off from every other studio’s.

Everyone under NDA

Including any reviewer who checks a decision by hand at your request.

Straight talk

What we won’t promise.

No service makes a studio lawsuit-proof. Anyone who says otherwise is selling something.

  • We can’t stop someone copying a script after they’ve been allowed to read it.
  • We only know what happens through Gatehouse — not scripts sent to staff some other way.
  • The comparison only knows what’s on your list. Keep it current — or let us call and keep it for you.
  • We’re not your lawyers. Your counsel should review the terms and release, and still makes the calls.

References

The cases and rules behind all this.

Summarised in plain English for a general audience. This isn’t legal advice — your counsel should check the current law before relying on any of it.

  1. 1

    Desny v. Wilder

    46 Cal. 2d 715 (1956) · Supreme Court of California · Ace in the Hole

    What happened
    A writer phoned Billy Wilder’s office and pitched a story based on a real cave-rescue tragedy. Paramount later released Ace in the Hole. The writer sued, saying he’d pitched it expecting to be paid if it was used.
    Why it matters
    The foundation of the “unwritten deal”: an implied promise to pay can arise when an idea is pitched on the understanding it will be paid for if used, and the recipient accepts it knowing that.
  2. 2

    Buchwald v. Paramount Pictures Corp.

    1990 WL 357611 (Cal. Super. Ct. 1990) · Los Angeles Superior Court · Coming to America

    What happened
    Art Buchwald said Coming to America was based on a treatment he’d submitted to Paramount. The court agreed — and the case became famous for exposing “net profits” accounting.
    Why it matters
    A studio can lose a “you used my idea” case, and the fight can take years and become very public.
  3. 3

    Grosso v. Miramax Film Corp.

    383 F.3d 965 (9th Cir. 2004) · US Court of Appeals, Ninth Circuit · Rounders

    What happened
    A writer claimed Rounders came from his poker screenplay. His copyright claim failed, but his implied-contract claim was allowed to go forward.
    Why it matters
    Beating a copyright claim doesn’t end the case. The unwritten-deal claim can survive on its own, even when the similarities are only ideas.
  4. 4

    Montz v. Pilgrim Films & Television, Inc.

    649 F.3d 975 (9th Cir. 2011) (en banc) · US Court of Appeals, Ninth Circuit (full court) · Ghost Hunters

    What happened
    Two men pitched NBC Universal a show about paranormal investigators. Years later Ghost Hunters aired. They sued for breach of implied contract and breach of confidence.
    Why it matters
    These claims aren’t wiped out by copyright law. A pitch can create obligations copyright alone doesn’t cover.
  5. 5

    Skidmore v. Led Zeppelin

    952 F.3d 1051 (9th Cir. 2020) (en banc) · US Court of Appeals, Ninth Circuit (full court) · Stairway to Heaven

    What happened
    A songwriter’s estate claimed Stairway to Heaven copied his song Taurus, arguing the band had heard it on tour. Led Zeppelin won.
    Why it matters
    Access and similarity are separate questions. But “could they have seen it?” is still its own fight, with its own costs.
  6. 6

    Berman v. Freedom Financial Network, LLC

    30 F.4th 849 (9th Cir. 2022) · US Court of Appeals, Ninth Circuit

    What happened
    Website users said they never agreed to terms shown in small, faint text. The court agreed.
    Why it matters
    Online terms only hold up if they’re clearly shown and clearly accepted. How writers accept your terms matters.
  7. 7

    California Civil Code § 1668

    Cal. Civ. Code § 1668 · California statute

    What happened
    Contracts that try to excuse someone from their own fraud, deliberate harm, or breaking the law are against public policy.
    Why it matters
    You can’t simply make writers sign away every right. Terms have to be fair and carefully drafted — which is why we don’t rely on “you can never sue us” waivers.
  8. 8

    Federal Rules of Evidence 803(6), 902(13) & 902(14)

    Fed. R. Evid. 803(6), 902(13), 902(14) · US federal rules

    What happened
    Rules for when business records can be used in court, and for certifying electronic records — including identifying files by hash.
    Why it matters
    Records made automatically, at the time, as part of normal business are treated very differently from notes assembled after a dispute starts.
  9. 9

    Major studio submission policies

    Sony Pictures Entertainment FAQ; Warner Bros. Terms of Use · Public company policies

    What happened
    Sony says unsolicited material sent by post or email is returned unopened and unread. Warner Bros. refuses unsolicited ideas to avoid misunderstandings when its own projects turn out to be similar.
    Why it matters
    The industry’s current answer is to refuse everything.
  10. 10

    Hasbro Spark

    Hasbro invention submission programme · Industry practice

    What happened
    Hasbro doesn’t accept unsolicited ideas in general, but runs an official route where inventors sign an agreement first, must be 18+, and must own the idea.
    Why it matters
    A major entertainment company already keeps its main door shut while running one official, controlled route in. That’s the model.

The honest answer

Does it stop a lawsuit? No.

But it makes life as difficult as possible for a contingency lawyer.

Contingency lawyers are paid only if a case wins or settles. So they choose cases with three things: proof the studio had the script, an unwritten deal, and a record messy enough that settling is cheaper than fighting. Gatehouse is designed to leave them none of the three.

  1. 1

    No proof you saw it

    Nobody at the studio received the script, and it was locked.

  2. 2

    No unwritten deal

    The writer signed terms and a release before uploading.

  3. 3

    No mess to exploit

    Who saw what, and when, is already on file — made at the time.

Bring your legal team.

We’ll walk your general counsel and business affairs through the design, the terms and the record directly.