In a bit of odd synchronicity, this week I started to play Dishonoured 2. Some of the art used in the cut-scenes looked familiar to me. Sure enough, it seems Sergey Kosolov was actually hired by Arkane Studios in an artistic capacity!
1. We’re somewhere in the badlands of an American desert. A thin, rakish MAN in work trousers, leather boots, a hat and a body-warmer type vest brushes away sand cautiously. He’s standing before a large ridge that juts out of the flat desert landscape. His brushing has started to reveal the outline of something large beneath the sand. Is that a tentacle?
VOICE (TAILLESS): So, it's you is it? The one I've heard rustling above, uncovering me.
MAN: It's my job. Finding that which is lost. Cataloguing it.
2. CU on the man. Glasses perch on the end of a nose, screening eyes that are constantly judging those he considers his inferior. He looks disgruntled, annoyed.
VOICE (TAILLESS): I am not an object. I am something older than man itself. The horrors I --
MAN: Please be quiet. I am trying to work.
3. Close on the man’s hands as he uncovers something else in the sand - a large, hooded eyelid.
4. We stay on the new discovery as the eyelid opens, a black orb beneath stares back out at us.
VOICE (TAILLLESS): You dare.
5. Back on the man, his expression still frozen in a permanent scowl.
MAN: You had your time. It didn't take.
MAN: Now please...
6. The man places a dirty worksheet over the eyelid as he begins brushing away the rest of whatever creature rests beneath the desert.
MAN: ...let me work in peace.
1. An Instagram feed shows DUANE, mid 20s, ripped from the pages of a Gap catalog, beaming a well-meaning smile as he stands in the middle of a war-torn village somewhere in Central Africa. He’s wearing a baseball cap and a plain gray t-shirt. He’s holding some building material in his hands. The caption reads “Doing my bit to save the world”.
PETE (OFF): Just two likes so far.
2. CUT TO: the village itself. DUANE is putting the building material back down on the floor. He approaches another guy about the same age, PETE, who was just taking the photo of DUANE from the previous panel. Several of the local workers look at DUANE with quiet rage as they continue to work on the ravaged village.
DUANE: Two? I got thirty just boarding the plane.
PETE: Should I try another angle?
3. A two shot on DUANE and PETE. DUANE looks down at the phone dispiritedly.
DUANE: That'd look kinda fake, Pete.
4. A worried looking local enters the panel, pointing back towards the thick jungle behind him.
LOCAL: Come quick! Bring everybody! An explosion!
5. DUANE and PETE look at each other with a contained glee.
6. DUANE and PETE run into the jungle as the locals watch them go.
Up against it this week (as you can tell)!
1. Three ASTRONAUTS stand triumphant under a scorching sun on the surface of a desert planet, two MEN and a WOMAN. They are still in their suits, but their helmets are off, the atmosphere is breathable here. We can see a spherical LANDING MODULE behind them. They are in the middle of planting a FLAG in the middle of the planet’s dusty soil.
2. The three ASTRONAUTS now stand on a plain elsewhere on the planet in a similar configuration as before. The sun has started to sink below the horizon now and the night approaches. They are out of their spacesuits and wear work overalls. The overalls look a bit tatty with dirt and neglect. One of the men peers towards us, scanning the horizon. The other man looks uncertain, anxiously looking towards the woman of the group.
3. The same three figures on the same desolate landscape. One of the male astronauts wears nothing but a tattered loincloth now. He holds a rock soaked dark with blood and stands over the battered corpse of the other male astronaut. The female astronaut cowers behind him slightly as if afraid their dead colleague may jump up alive at any second.
4. As the original picture - two PRIMATES on a rocky outcrop hold a primitive facsimile of a flag as they peer around cautiously.
1. CLOSE UP on FREDERICK DRANG. He’s a pale, chubby guy in his 30s. He’s sitting at a long conference table, his wide frame filling the panel. His head sits squatly above his shoulders like an afterthought. He’s wearing a white shirt with a dishwater grey tie.
DEREK (OFF): Frederick, I’ve given you every chance…
2. We CUT TO a much younger FREDERICK (8 years old). He’s wearing the clothes in the main picture, a cap and dark overcoat. He’s sitting on the steps of a tenement building that looks like it will fall over with the next gust of wind. He has a piece of wood shaped like a rifle sitting in his lap, a leather strap affixed to both of its ends. A BLACK CAT sits next to him on the steps. FREDERICK has his hands over his ears.
VOICE (OFF): …but you just keep letting me down.
3. CUT back to the present. Tight on Frederick’s boss, DEREK HAVERS. He’s a sour faced guy in his 50s who looks like a skeleton dipped in wax. He’s dressed in business casual and is standing at the head of the conference table, pointing towards Frederick while he admonishes him.
DEREK: Are you even listening to me, Frederick?
4. Back to the past. Young FREDERICK begins to unattach the leather strap on his wooden rifle, the CAT still by his side.
VOICE (OFF): Stuck in a dream world again, eh?
5. The present. FREDERICK half smiling, trying to keep cool. We zoom out a little to see his notes in disarray on the conference table in front of him and the fact he’s holding a pencil at both ends with his hands.
FREDERICK: I’m try –
DEREK (OFF): Oh come on!
6. The past. Young FREDERICK tensing the leather strap he’s holding with both hands, gritting his teeth slightly.
VOICE (OFF): I’ve heard that before.
7. In the present FREDERICK has stopped smiling. He’s begun to grit his teeth.
DEREK (OFF): What is wrong with you?
8. The past. A profile view as the young FREDERICK looks down at the CAT by his side.
VOICE (OFF): Where is your head at?
9. The present. FREDERICK’s mouth open in a silent scream as he SNAPS the pencil in half.
DEREK (OFF): Frederick?
Happy New Year!
1 We OPEN on a long metal bridge. Leaning on the edge, looking over, is a mopey looking GUY in his early 20s. He looks frazzled, kind of restless. Above him in the sky fireworks shatter the darkness with explosive colour.
CAPTION: He'd wished and hoped things had been different a million times before.
2. We push in tighter on the GUY. His eyes closed now. We can see he’s been crying, eyes blotchy and red.
CAPTION: This year had been harder than most.
3. Closer in on the GUY, almost an extreme close up now. Eyes squinted shut tightly. Concentrating. Wishing. Hoping.
CAPTION: So he wished just that little bit more.
4. The GUY has opened his eyes and turns to look back up the road that runs across the bridge, a look of shock on his face.
CAPTION: But things happen for a reason.
CAPTION: To wish them away is to court chaos. CAPTION: Reality isn’t multiple choice.
5. Large panel. We’re looking down the bridge, the GUY’s head in the bottom of the panel. Lumbering towards him through the sparse New Year’s traffic is a TYRANNOSAURUS REX.
CAPTION: He learnt that the hard way.
1. Large footprints in the snow trail off into the distance as a light blizzard obscures the landscape.
CAPTION: “I think we’re all familiar with the where and the who…”
2. We CUT TO an interview room somewhere in a police station. The room is poorly lit, shining a spotlight on the man seated at the table below — SANTA. He looks battered, bruised and bloody. He looks across the table towards us.
VOICE (OFF): ...so why don't you fill us in on the why?
SANTA: Fair enough. Can I smoke?
3. CUT TO the brightly coloured door of Santa’s workshop shattering off its hinges. Behind it we see the crouched, hulking figure of the ABOMINABLE SNOWMAN. He looks pissed.
CAPTION: “I've known him a while.”
4. CUT TO back to the interview room. SANTA leans on his hand, smoking like a chimney.
SANTA: I was young. I needed real estate. Space for workshops.
5. CUT back to the workshop as the SNOWMAN grabs SANTA from behind his desk, helper ELVES fleeing in terror.
CAPTION: “So we did a deal.”
6. Back to the interview room, tight on SANTA as he continues to puff away.
SANTA: I guess he finally read the small print.
7. CUT back to Santa’s workshop. Carnage. Everything is shattered and destroyed. In the background we see the SNOWMAN dragging SANTA away through the snow.
CAPTION: “Christmas, right?”
1. Wide panel: somewhere in a forest clearing, day. A group of YOUNG PROTESTERS lie dead in the dirt puckered with bullet wounds. Their camp, a gathering of tents and sleeping bags is strewn around the clearing. Standing over it all is a KILL TEAM consisting of a group of hardened looking mercenaries wearing sleek looking combat gear.
KILL TEAM LEADER: Sir, it's done.
KILL TEAM LEADER: Clean up teams are enroute, construction crews will be here in the AM.
PHONE (JAGGED): I hear doubt in your voice, Franchetti. This needed to be done.
2. CUT TO: ANDERSON, a craggy-faced looking guy in his 50s, wearing a flannel shirt and jeans. He’s driving a car down a forest track, concentrating on the road ahead as he shouts into a mobile phone affixed to the dashboard with some kind of holder.
ANDERSON: They’d impeded progress for far too long.
3. We CUT back to the forest clearing. Cracks have begun to appear in the ground beneath the feet of the KILL TEAM.
PHONE (JAGGED): You can't stop progress.
KILL TEAM LEADER: Sir, something is moving...
4. The KILL TEAM begin to look at each other, fear in their eyes for the first time, as the cracks in the ground grow LARGER, some of the corpses of the protestors and the trees themselves falling into the yawning gaps.
KILL TEAM LEADER: ...something below us.
5. CUT back to ANDERSON in the car, his hands off the wheel, shielding his face in terror. Something large looms over the car, casting a shadow.
PHONE (JAGGED): Sir?
1. ECU on an EYE as it stares out at us.
NAZ (OFF): Say again?
2. We pull out to reveal the eye belongs to a LARGE FISH strung up on a tarpaulin covered jetty (as in the image). In the background we see grey water and a relentless rain. A woman in her late 20s with dark hair and glasses stands around looking at the fish, an array of scientific equipment spread around the jetty. She wears a rain poncho over her regular clothes. This is NAZ. She’s a scientist.
COMMS (JAGGED): *kzzt* -- still alive -- *kzzt*
NAZ: It’s been on this jetty for hours. Pretty sure it's dead.
COMMS (JAGGED): *kzzt* I’m *kzzt* not a fish --
3. NAZ stands closer to the fish. She takes a high tech looking measuring device to the fish’s eye. We notice a circular speaker on a strap across her chest, a kind of simple comms device.
NAZ: Base, are you fucking with me? Is this you, Georgia?
4. Tight on NAZ, a slightly incredulous look on her face.
COMMS (JAGGED): -- get you to understand --
NAZ: Jesus. Base, the storm is messing with the --
DAX (OFF): Naz!
5. Another scientist, DAX, a young guy with a buzzcut joins her on the jetty. He looks slightly confused.
DAX: They've sent me down here to let you know the comms are down. Have been for the last hour or so. We're...
6. NAZ, shocked, turns to look at the LARGE FISH staring back at her.
DAX (OFF): Naz?
Yeah, it’s been that kind of weekend.
1. Tight on a strong-jawed old man in his 80s, turned to face us as he sits. This is GUS. It’s the kind of camera angle employed in a talking heads documentary. Behind him we can see pictures of family spread across a wall, evidence of a long life well lived. GUS is holding a finger up to make a point.
VOICE (OFF): So, the creature -
GUS: Abe. His name was Abe.
2. Still on GUS. The angle unchanging.
VOICE (OFF): Okay. What was Abe like?
GUS: Kind. Maybe too kind.
3. Wide panel. Afternoon in July 1953, somewhere on the slopes of Pork Chop Hill in Korea. The landscape is battered, grey and desolate (). Everything is grey, churned earth, dead trees and littered corpses. A torrential rain pours from the heavens. Amid the chaos we can see a small group of US SOLDIERS hunkered down behind the husk of a gigantic fallen tree. Also crouched down with them is ABE.
ABE is humanoid in appearance, pale skinned, but bald with no hair. He towers over the SOLDIERS despite crouching. When standing he’s about 10 feet tall. He wears a shoddy looking facsimile of the US SOLDIER’s uniform, and has a glass bubble helmet on his head.
GUS (CAPTION): You gotta understand, he came to us in ‘47 with no way to get home.
GUS (CAPTION): He just wanted to give something back to the country that took him in.
GUS: Okay, guys, I know you’re all tired. I know you hate the sight of this goddamn hill.
4. We push in to see that a much younger GUS is one of the SOLDIERS huddled behind the tree. He’s turned to his men, a grim look on his face. From off panel, ABE’s gloved hand grips GUS’ shoulder.
GUS: But just one more push and --
ABE (OFF): Gus.
GUS (CAPTION): He had a lot to give.
5. Pan around to ABE, smiling for the first time as he tries to comfort those around him.
ABE: I have seen this moment. We will take this hill together. All of us together.
VOICE (CAPTION): What did you take from Abe? What did you learn?
6. We stay on ABE as a sniper’s bullet shatters his helmet, passing clean through his head on the other side. He has a look of slight surprise on his face.
GUS (CAPTION): Easy.
7. Cut back to the present, an elderly GUS still faces the camera.
GUS: A bullet is still faster than premonition.
1. This is a vertical panel that runs down the entire left hand side of the page. It shows a strip of film with a series of disturbing images (as shown in the picture above), of a man screaming in horror as something probes his chest.
2. We CUT TO the projection booth. The TEENAGE PROJECTIONIST is slumped unconscious in the corner of the room.
DIETRICH (OFF): Remind me again why this is a good idea.
3. We pan around to see two people near the projector itself. The first figure is SANDERS. He looks like a punk rock bank clerk. All wire-rim glasses and rebellious swagger. The second figure, DIETRICH, is a slight fair-haired woman barely out of her teens. She hovers in the background as SANDERS messes with the projector.
SANDERS: Because they need to know the truth.
DIETRICH: Don't they come here to get away from that?
4. Wide panel. We CUT TO the audience in the cinema, staring up at the screen in wonder, their faces bathed in the celluloid glow.
SANDERS (TAILLESS): But it's the only place they let their guard down.
SANDERS (TAILLESS): The only place they’re looking up, instead of down.
5. CUT TO DIETRICH, her head cocked. Doubtful.
DIETRICH: I dunno. I've seen this movie and it's not that --
6. Back on SANDERS, angry and defiant.
SANDERS: Roll it!
1. Wide shot. A small, run down diner amidst an inner city neighbourhood that’s seen better days. It’s early morning - just a few customers sitting and eating. Amongst them are an elderly looking man and woman in one of the window facing booths.
CARL: Question is, why haven’t we done this sooner?
AMY: Because you were scared, Carl.
2. Wide shot. We push in a little more on the old pair in the window. They each hold a cup of coffee to their mouths as they eye each other warily across the formica table.
CARL: You ignored every message.
AMY: So you keep saying.
3. Profile shot on the OLD MAN. He’s looking right towards the old woman opposite him. He cups the coffee mug in his hands. He’s slightly hunched over, a few liver spots on his skin, and he has a hooked nose. Despite his age he has a full head of thick white hair. We’ll call him CARL.
CARL: You want to know what I think?
4. Profile shot on the OLD WOMAN. She faces left towards Carl. She’s black, her hair grey in places. Her skin looks soft. Her age only shows when she smiles. She isn’t smiling. This is AMY.
AMY: No. Can we just do this?
5. Push in more on CARL.
CARL: You’re just as scared as I am.
6. Push in more on AMY.
AMY: Or, we’re doing this now...
7. Wide shot. A deserted street somewhere in the neighbourhood. Carl is on the left, cloak over his normal clothes. He stands with a broomstick in his hands. On the right is Amy. Like Carl she has a cloak over her normal clothes now, hood pulled up. She clutches a broomstick too.
CAPTION: “...because we’re the only ones left.”
It’s been a week, right?
I tried something without words (yeah, again), because I just wanted to write something that made me feel good this week. In the words of Depeche Mode, enjoy the silence.
1. We’re on Mars, a CU on the ROBOTIC ARM of the rover, Curiosity.
2. CUT TO a shot of the MAST-CAM on Curiosity. The rover is idle - hibernating.
3. ZOOM OUT a little to see a shot of Curiosity lost amongst the dunes of Mars, totally alone.
4. Wide panel. The sun goes down on Mars. Something like this.
5. CUT back to Curiosity. A similar shot to Panel 3, but the strange alien-looking rover from the picture above has begun to roll into view from the right side of the panel.
6. The two rovers, Curiosity on the left, and the alien rover on the right look at each other, a yard or two apart.
7. CU on the ROBOTIC ARM of the Curiosity, as per the first panel, only this time the PINCER ARM of the alien rover is touching it, locking claws.
I missed this last week as I was moving house.
1. A CLOSE UP on a human SKULL sitting on a thick tree branch.
VOICE (off): I was meant for bigger things than this you know.
2. We pull out a little as a bronze TALON appears from above, its three-clawed tips wrapped around the skull.
VOICE (off): I was going to save a city, then save the world.
3. Pull out again to reveal that the talon belongs to a huge, intimidating OWL. There is something artificial about the owl. It looks too perfect, its yellow eyes a little too pristine. This thing was made, not born.
OWL: Traffic systems, economies, patrol routes.
OWL: You name it, I would have run it.
4. The owl twists its talon to bring the skull level with its eyes. Its bright yellow eyes peer into the hollow sockets, looking for an elusive truth.
OWL: But they put me in this...thing instead. A glorified puppet.
5. The skull explodes into a white dust as the owl pinches the claws on its talon together.
OWL: No wonder you’re extinct.
So, for those who missed it, Alterna Comics announced yesterday they’ll be releasing ‘Go Home’ a 22 page digital one shot from myself and Andrew Herbst on 24th November via ComiXology.
The story follows a young sailor, Husk, during WW2 as he washes up on a secluded Pacific island after his ship is torpedoed.
The project has been a long time in gestation (because, hey, comics) but I’m incredibly pleased the story is finally getting out there in the capable hands of Alterna Comics.
To give you a quick idea of what to expect from ‘Go Home’ here are bunch of influences on the project.
To The White Sea
This is an unproduced adaptation of a James Dickey novel from the Coen brothers. In it, a B-29 gunner crashes in Tokyo and has to find a way to survive. It’s considered one of the best unproduced screenplays and the kicker is it’s mostly dialogue free.
By doing this, the story takes on a very primal feel, stripping away everything until all that remains is this man’s fight for survival.
The script, if you can find it, is absolutely worth hunting down.
In Harm’s Way by Doug Stanton
Back in the dusty nooks of history came a time when I first set out to #makecomics. Being the usual bright-eyed, naieve newcomer I had grand designs of writing a mini-series on the sinking of the USS Indianapolis.
Most of us know this story from the fantastic Quint monologue at the end of Jaws, but there is far more to it than that (no matter what any recent Nicholas Cage movie will have you believe).
There’s the ship’s chaplain who swam himself into exhaustion whilst attempting to keep everyone’s morale up. Men took turns to keep him above the water until he finally faded away into quiet delerium.
Or the blinded and burnt sailor finding his way off the ship (which sank in 30 minutes after being attacked) by touch alone.
Captain McVay, who received the brunt of the blame for the ship’s sinking, wished to go down with the ship until a freak wave washed him overboard. He survived, was court-martialled and received hateful Christmas cards from relatives of those who had perished. Years later he ended up killing himself - the disaster had claimed another victim.
In Harm’s Way shows us the individual tales of horror, madness and heroism that are peppered throughout the Indianapolis ordeal. It’s a book that reignited a love for war stories and history. The genesis of ‘Go Home’ lives in those pages.
Southern Comfort & Deliverance
Both movies are stripped back thrillers that have misguided outsiders dealing with forces beyond their understanding.
They build on their simple premises to explore big themes, whether it’s the Man Vs. Nature dynamic of Deliverance, or Southern Comfort’s commentary on the Vietnam War.
This is something I’ve attempted with ‘Go Home’, dealing with the impact of war on the psyche and nature itself whilst dealing with Husk’s story.
If any of the above tickle your fancy then it’s likely you’ll enjoy ‘Go Home’ when it hits on 24th November. I can’t wait to see what people think of it.
An attempt at selling a complete story this time around.
Five wide panels stacked atop each other.
1. A commercial jet liner descends from a sky pregnant with the coming dawn.
CAPTION: Every September, George Sanderson makes a journey.
2. A monthly calendar stuck to a kitchen wall. The month is September, the picture above the month layout shows a silver-haired woman in her sixties waving at the camera whilst she runs a 10K, other runners around her. All of the days in the month are crossed off, apart from today’s date, September 11th.
CAPTION: He has been doing this for 15 years.
3. A small, shrivelled old man stands by the edge of an airport runway, clutching a bunch of flowers tightly to his chest. This is GEORGE SANDERSON. There are no planes in the sky, the lights of the runway throwing off an eerie light whilst daylight takes its time.
CAPTION: The people at Martha’s Vineyard Airport close the same runway for George for one hour, every year.
4. It’s daylight now - a new day. Another commercial airliner is descending from the sky, seconds away from touching the runway asphalt.
CAPTION: They figure that can accept the loss...
5. CLOSE UP on the flowers George has left by the edge of the runway as they blow away in the wake of the landing airliner.
CAPTION: ...whilst George tries to come to terms with his own.
1. A woman, ADA runs towards us across a bleak desert landscape. There are no clouds in the sky and dunes roll out around her as far as the eye can see. Ada is in her late twenties with a dark complexion and sandy brown hair. She’s quite skinny, almost awkwardly so, under the brown desert gear and poncho she wears.
CAPTION: This planet is dying. Has been since the day I was born.
2. Ada stops running, turns to look behind her.
CAPTION: So I left it.
3. CLOSE UP on Ada as she narrows her eyes, focusing on the horizon.
CAPTION: I studied.
CAPTION: I would save this world.
4. Large panel. Ada is thrown off her feet as a SNIPER ROUND slams through her stomach, exiting the other side.
CAPTION: I returned with that hope inside of me.
5. Small inset panel in the lower right corner of Panel 4. Two yellow suns beat down from the blue sky. VULTURE-LIKE CREATURES circle, silhouetted by the sunshine.
6. Ada lies on her back, her blood seeping out onto the sand. Her assassin, a CLOAKED FIGURE with their back to us, stands over Ada. The figure clutches a SNIPER RIFLE that looks like it was designed by Cronenberg and Wally Wood, a fusing of the retro and the new flesh.
CLOAKED FIGURE: And now...
7. Small inset panel inside Panel 6. Close up on the cruel, smirking and scarred mouth of Ada’s assassin.
CLOAKED FIGURE: ...your legacy is gone.
ADA (OFF): Legacy burns...
8. Back on Ada, flat on her back still, very much dying. She smiles as SAPLINGS begin to sprout from her body.
ADA: ...and ignites.
1. Two FIGURES encased in Hazmat suits walk through the thick pitch black of an underground rail tunnel. Yellow beams from their flashights cut through the dark.
CAPTION: Expedition 34 Log 3.2.
ROGERS: This is horseshit.
WOMAN:You say that every time we come down here.
CAPTION: Rogers is an annoying fuck.
2. Push in on the two figures, a nebbish looking man (ROGERS) in his forties and a sour-faced woman (SCALES) in her thirties can be seen peering from beyond the hazmat masks.
SCALES: You were saying?
ROGERS: Holy crap. Is that...?
CAPTION: But thirty three previous jaunts with the flannel wearing jerk were worth it to see the look on his face.
3. Wide. The train from the above picture looms out of the darkness, it’s metal surfaces shine under the searching flashlights as the two FIGURES stand before it.
SCALES: You see any other trains built by a millionaire death cult leader down here?
ROGERS: It's really real.
CAPTION: Yes, he really said that.
4. The male runs his gloved hand across the surface of the train’s front.
ROGERS: We can beat it. Repopulate. Start over.
CAPTION: I don't share his enthusiasm.
5. The woman grips the man’s hand by the wrist.
CAPTION: I'm a realist.
SCALES: Careful now.
6. Close up on the woman, stern-faced.
SCALES: The devil lies within.
CAPTION: I'm a believer.
I ran a 15K today. I then came home and went out for dinner. I have just got back. The below is a product of the day I’ve had and all the sleep I want right now.
1 As the image above. A strange twisted half machine, half biological being crouches on a jutting rock.
CAP: Emerson, the experiment was not a success. I’m so sorry.
2 Push in on the black visor that shields the being’s face.
CAP: I know it was the last chance for you.
3 The visor begins to move upwards with a hiss of steam escaping from the mask.
CAP: I’ll make sure Fran never knows.
4 The face beneath is human. An old man. Milky white eyes. Blind in a former life.
CAP: I hope you’re at peace…
5 Wide panel. We zoom back out, the creature still on the rock. In the background and foreground below the Rocky outcrop a herd of dinosaurs roam in packs across the savannah.
CAP:..wherever you are.
Yeah, I had nothin’ this week.
Aerial panel. Like the image above. A huge MERMAID like creature, dead, blood in the water. Fishing boats gather around it like the predators they are.
A low shot of a large TRAWLER cutting through the water and heading towards us. Nothing but ocean for miles.
A large thick CHAIN splashes into the water.
Wide. The trawler is in the BG of the shot, the chain has begun to be winched back in. The MERMAID breaks the surface, the thick chain wrapped around her neck. She’s quite clearly dead. Blood gushes from a welt on her forehead.
We pan up a little bit as the winching continues. Above the ships in the pale blue sky are several SPACESHIPS shaped like wedges shields.
Another aerial shot, this time from really high up. Beneath us is the planet’s surface. Nothing but ocean. Dotted across the vast blue are huge numbers of spaceships and boats, all winching their prey upwards and away from the ocean.
- Wide. As the image above. Looking through the windshield of the lit interior of a town car as it drives through the night. In the BG in the back seat is a large, wide-shouldered business man, all muscle turned fat and a suit fit to burst. This is MARKS.
In the FG in the driving seat is SAM (servile assistant mech) - a serious looking man, who stares straight ahead at the road. His name is is visible on the front of the cap of his driver’s uniform.
MARKS: I’m telling you, Sam, we’ve never had it so good.
CU on MARKS’ as he smirks, a shark’s sneer - all white, expensive looking teeth.
MARKS: No crime, no dregs strewn over our sidewalks.
CU on the rear view mirror as SAM looks towards it, staring at his passenger in the rear seat.
MARKS (OFF): No dissent to muddy the water.
Wide. Cut to an exterior shot behind the town car as it drives through a white, antiseptic looking tunnel on a three lane road. Around and in front of the town car we see a number of identical looking vehicles all heading the same way, perfectly spaced apart.
CAPTION: “We finally got some clarity.” CAPTION: “Everyone moving in the same direction, that’s all it took.”
Two shot. MARKS leans forwards in his seat, almost whispering into SAM’s ear.
MARKS: But you want to know the real secret behind it all? MARKS: Everyone knows their place now.
CU on SAM’s mouth. Just beneath his lower lip we can see the words Servile Assistance Mech raised on his (synthetic) skin. Underneath that are the words “Made in the USA”.
SAM: Yes, sir.
View the the archives