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What I'm Working On Now

Three short films are in Post-Production, soon to be submitting to film festivals.
Producing/editing a pilot for a new web-series inspired by the Alice in Wonderland tales.
Producing/editing a documentary on Gene Roddenberry and the genesis of Star Trek The Original Series.
There are a number of other projects in development, just waiting their turn to be produced.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

SHORT STORY: THE PLAYER Script


          INT. FUNERAL CHAPEL - DAY

          All sounds of the Funeral (sermon, eulogy, etc.) are muted
          or muffled.

          Moving down the isle, pews filled with mourners.

          A young man in the front row.

          Track around to a CLOSE UP of his face. Crying slightly.

                                                     MATCH CUT TO

          CLOSE on the young man, eyes still closed.

          EXT. CEMETERY - EVENING

          PULL BACK to reveal the grave site and the people leaving.

          He takes in a breath and puts in earbuds and begins walking
          as the music rushes in.

          He strides through the cemetery, out of it/disconnected, to
          his car and gets in.

          He goes to shut the door and the iPod gets crushed in the
          door.

          It's just one more drop in the ocean for him and everything
          else he's been through recently.

          He looks down at the broken iPod, sighs, and closes his
          door.

          He drives off.

          INT. HOUSE - SAME

          As the scene progresses, the walls close in on him slowly,
          from time to time. Expressed mainly through top views.

          He enters his apartment and sets his things down in a pile
          on the floor.

          He drops himself onto his couch and rubs his face, wiping
          away tears and any traces of distress before taking a couple
          of sleeping pills.

          He swivels his playdeck, sitting on a stack of books by
          Plato/Aristotle, on the end table to face him, and stops
          when he remembers his broken iPod.

                              MAN
                    Right.

          He grabs a book and begins to read. Time Lapse and more
          books are stacked on the end table as he shifts restlessly
          on the couch.

          He takes another couple of pills.

          There's a TAPPING at his door, faint, he ignores it.

          TAPPING again. He ignores it, but obviously noticed it this
          time.

          TAPPING a third time. He gets up and opens the door.

                              MAN
                    What?

          There's nothing there.

          He stares for a moment, trying to pierce the darkness.

          Close on his mouth as he speaks.

                              MAN
                         (whispered)
                    Lenore?

          He waits a moment longer and then returns to his couch. He
          looks at the bottle of pills, moves to take another, then
          stops himself.

          A loud RAPPING sounds as something strikes his window.

          He sits up and throws it open, looking around as the wind
          gusts. A black iPod, hanging by its earphones, dangles from
          a tree branch outside. The wind blowing it around, it comes
          free of the earphones and flies onto the end table next to
          the playdeck.

          He picks up the black iPod and examines it. The emblem of a
          RAVEN is clearly visible, along with the words RAVEN beneath
          on a sticker.

          He sets it onto the playdeck and grabs the remote before
          lying back down on the couch. He begins fiddling with the
          buttons.

                              MAN
                    Someone'll be looking for you.

          The iPod screen lights up, and plays a brief piece of
          ALTERNATIVE MUSIC.

                              IPOD
                    Nevermore.

          The man lies still, staring. The iPod is quiet and dark once
          more, having played for only a moment. He continues to
          fiddle with buttons.

                              MAN
                    People get things caught in that
                    tree all the time.

          He looks down at the bottle of pills, relents and takes one
          more, downing it with a gulp of water.

                              MAN (CONT.)
                    Someone'll be by for you tomorrow
                    and then you'll be gone.

          The iPod lights up again, and plays another brief clip of
          ALTERNATIVE MUSIC. Each time the iPod plays, it lights up
          and the music gets darker and heavier.

                              IPOD
                    Nevermore.

          The iPod goes dark once more and the man shifts, more amused
          than bothered, and sits up.

                              MAN
                    Memory must be corrupted if that's
                    all you can play.

          He continues to stare at the iPod on the playdeck.

          POV, looking at the playdeck, shift focus to behind where a
          photo of him and his wife.

          PUSH IN to the photo, keeping the iPod in view but out of
          focus.

          A WOMAN'S VOICE, indistinct but audible speaks and laughs as
          her image, larger than the photo, dances in his view.

          Time passes in the night.

                              MAN O.S.
                         (crying)
                    Oh God, let me forget her if only
                    so I don't feel the pain.

                              IPOD
                    Nevermore.

          On the man, shocked, angry. He cries out against the iPod.

                              MAN
                    The devil take you!

                              IPOD
                    Nevermore.

          He struggles to ignore the iPod, fluffing cushions on the
          couch and turning his back to the iPod. He tosses and turns,
          stifling a few cries before giving up. He sits back up,
          grabs a couple more pills.

          He's out of water so he chews the pills instead.

                              MAN
                    So, tell me then, is there, as the
                    Bible says, balm in Gilead?

                              IPOD
                    Nevermore.

          His cries grow stronger but he fights to hold them back. He
          cradles his head in his hands.

                              MAN
                    Oh God, give her back to me. Let me
                    hold her again.

                              IPOD
                    Nevermore.

          He grabs the remote to the playdeck and tries to shut it
          off.

                              MAN
                    Throw you back out where you
                    belong.

                              IPOD
                    Nevermore.

          He tries to pull it free from the playdeck but it's stuck

                              MAN
                    Get out of my playdeck.

                              IPOD
                    Nevermore.

          The man hurles it across the room.

                              MAN
                    Leave me alone.

          The iPod plays a long this time, holding out the word as
          though it were the finale of the song.

                              IPOD
                    Nevermore.

          The man, crying, goes for the bottle of pills, it's empty.

          He looks back to the iPod, it's screen glowing, and he rests
          his head back on the couch.

          Lights begin to fade and his BREATHING gradually becomes the
          only sound, slowing to a stop as the scene reaches full
          black.

                                                            BLACK


*     *     *
I've been having fun with scripts lately, so I hope you enjoy this one. It's based off of Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven, in case you hadn't already guessed that. What do you think? Too literal/direct of a translation? Does the adaptation work for you?

2 comments:

  1. That is really inventive. Not sure anyone would want to make it outside of indie filmmakers, but it's good.

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    Replies
    1. Yes, most short films are that way, and that's what makes them so much fun. As a writer I can do/try things in a short film that I wouldn't generally get to do in a feature.

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