(no subject)
Here is the first draft of my one-quarter experimental film script. Subject to major changes. All comments are greatly appreciated, as I often have trouble evaluating my own work. (but really, who doesn't?) Sorry that the formatting's off.
FADE IN:
EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - AFTERNOON
JACK, 20 and JILL, 19 sit on porch steps. Both are clad in full winter gear -- heavy jackets, scarves and gloves. Jack holds a green popsicle between his lips like a cigarette. The sky is abnormally dark, the suburban block dead.
JILL
Is that thing frozen to your mouth?
JACK (MUFFLED)
Maybe.
He draws in a sharp, wet breath through his teeth. Jill shakes her head, amused. She looks across the street.
INT. ACROSS-THE-STREET HOUSE - SIMULTANEOUS
ARTIST, 40, stands at a canvas. He, the canvas, his paintbrush and his palette are spattered in color; the rest of the room is blank. He stares intently at the painting. As he does so, color begins creeping up the walls. The walls gradually turn into a moving, pulsing version of his painting. The artist begins shouting soundlessly. He races around.
EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - SIMULTANEOUS
Jill watches the artist running, pounding the walls of his room. The colors are visible to Jill, but confined to just the one room. The artist is isolated.
JILL
Fuckin' hippies, man. (beat; to Jack) Do you want me to get some water? I could unstick you from that. . .
JACK
No no no, don't. I'll be done soon.
INT. ANOTHER HOUSE - AFTERNOON
LAURA, 20, lies dead in a bathtub. She wears a colorful plastic snorkel mask with {cartoon animals} on it. The water in the tub is a deep red, a bit lighter than the blood that runs over her arms, hands and face. HELEN, 6, enters the room.
HELEN
You took my snorkel! Give it back! Give it ba-ack!
She tugs at the mask. When it doesn't come off, she also jumps into the tub, grabbing at it more frantically. Frustrated, she splashes the water and glares at Laura. The {cartoony animals} that dot the snorkel mask blink. Laura opens her eyes and rises slowly. She embraces Helen.
LAURA
I'll get you a better one.
EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - SLIGHTLY LATER
JILL
...fireflies.
JACK
Yeah.
JILL
You realize it's the middle of winter.
Jack fiddles with the popsicle.
JILL
And there hasn't been a firefly around here for years!
JACK
They're coming, okay?
JILL
You're --
Jill turns and sees Laura and Helen standing in the middle of the street. Laura is still naked, holding Helen's hand. They take a tentative step forward. They continue stepping slowly, as if ascending a flight of invisible stairs into the sky. Jill's mouth falls open as Laura and Helen climb the invisible stairs higher and higher, up past the tops of the houses.
JILL
My God.
There begins a dull murmur in the background; distant screaming, screeching, shouts of joy, unidentifiable sounds. A WOMAN driving an SUV drives the car straight up into the sky. A COUPLE, each wearing {traffic safety belt; forgot these} smile and walk slowly upward.
CUT TO: INT. ACROSS-THE-STREET HOUSE - SIMULTANEOUS
The Artist notices people walking into the air. He rushes to the window and begins banging his fists against it.
ARTIST
No! No!
EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - SIMULTANEOUS
A firefly lands on Jack's finger. He smiles as Jill backs away. The firefly lifts Jack up and out of frame. His popsicle drops to the ground several seconds later.
JILL
It's too fucking cold for popsicles anyway.
A PRIEST walks on the sidewalk, toward the house. He pauses and Jill meets his gaze. The priest smiles, and a pair of wings unfolds from his back. He jumps up into the sky. Jill looks tired and distressed. She rises from the stoop and walks into her house.
FADE OUT.
Real update coming later today, likely.
FADE IN:
EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - AFTERNOON
JACK, 20 and JILL, 19 sit on porch steps. Both are clad in full winter gear -- heavy jackets, scarves and gloves. Jack holds a green popsicle between his lips like a cigarette. The sky is abnormally dark, the suburban block dead.
JILL
Is that thing frozen to your mouth?
JACK (MUFFLED)
Maybe.
He draws in a sharp, wet breath through his teeth. Jill shakes her head, amused. She looks across the street.
INT. ACROSS-THE-STREET HOUSE - SIMULTANEOUS
ARTIST, 40, stands at a canvas. He, the canvas, his paintbrush and his palette are spattered in color; the rest of the room is blank. He stares intently at the painting. As he does so, color begins creeping up the walls. The walls gradually turn into a moving, pulsing version of his painting. The artist begins shouting soundlessly. He races around.
EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - SIMULTANEOUS
Jill watches the artist running, pounding the walls of his room. The colors are visible to Jill, but confined to just the one room. The artist is isolated.
JILL
Fuckin' hippies, man. (beat; to Jack) Do you want me to get some water? I could unstick you from that. . .
JACK
No no no, don't. I'll be done soon.
INT. ANOTHER HOUSE - AFTERNOON
LAURA, 20, lies dead in a bathtub. She wears a colorful plastic snorkel mask with {cartoon animals} on it. The water in the tub is a deep red, a bit lighter than the blood that runs over her arms, hands and face. HELEN, 6, enters the room.
HELEN
You took my snorkel! Give it back! Give it ba-ack!
She tugs at the mask. When it doesn't come off, she also jumps into the tub, grabbing at it more frantically. Frustrated, she splashes the water and glares at Laura. The {cartoony animals} that dot the snorkel mask blink. Laura opens her eyes and rises slowly. She embraces Helen.
LAURA
I'll get you a better one.
EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - SLIGHTLY LATER
JILL
...fireflies.
JACK
Yeah.
JILL
You realize it's the middle of winter.
Jack fiddles with the popsicle.
JILL
And there hasn't been a firefly around here for years!
JACK
They're coming, okay?
JILL
You're --
Jill turns and sees Laura and Helen standing in the middle of the street. Laura is still naked, holding Helen's hand. They take a tentative step forward. They continue stepping slowly, as if ascending a flight of invisible stairs into the sky. Jill's mouth falls open as Laura and Helen climb the invisible stairs higher and higher, up past the tops of the houses.
JILL
My God.
There begins a dull murmur in the background; distant screaming, screeching, shouts of joy, unidentifiable sounds. A WOMAN driving an SUV drives the car straight up into the sky. A COUPLE, each wearing {traffic safety belt; forgot these} smile and walk slowly upward.
CUT TO: INT. ACROSS-THE-STREET HOUSE - SIMULTANEOUS
The Artist notices people walking into the air. He rushes to the window and begins banging his fists against it.
ARTIST
No! No!
EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - SIMULTANEOUS
A firefly lands on Jack's finger. He smiles as Jill backs away. The firefly lifts Jack up and out of frame. His popsicle drops to the ground several seconds later.
JILL
It's too fucking cold for popsicles anyway.
A PRIEST walks on the sidewalk, toward the house. He pauses and Jill meets his gaze. The priest smiles, and a pair of wings unfolds from his back. He jumps up into the sky. Jill looks tired and distressed. She rises from the stoop and walks into her house.
FADE OUT.
Real update coming later today, likely.