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Showdown #10 James vs Libby - CONGRATULATING (currently 10406 views)
mcornetto
Posted: May 6th, 2011, 6:16pm
Guest User
James vs Libby...
- Logline: The grandmother of a soldier hides from the police.
- Any genre
- Any MPAA rating
- under 5 pages
Vote for A, B, or C. The third one is a surprise contestant. Votes for all three count and the surprise author may continue on.
Revision History (1 edits)
mcornetto - May 7th, 2011, 7:31pm
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mcornetto
Posted: May 6th, 2011, 6:17pm
Guest User
A
FADE IN:
SUPER: AL ADHAMIYA, BAGHDAD 2007
A harsh desert landscape under a white-washed blue sky.
Three children kick a football near burnt out husks of vehicles as a mangy dog picks through rubble. The city is not what it once was. Barbed wire criss-crosses the facades of Mosques and bullet holes mark the walls of other buildings.
In amongst the blight: a three mile, twelve-foot high concrete stronghold encloses the city of Al Adhamiya.
EXT. AL ADHAMIYA MARKET-PLACE - DAY
The face of a middle-aged Iraqi woman, ALTAIRA, emerges in amongst a crowd of mainly angry male faces. She’s dressed in full hijab and stands partially concealed at the entrance to the chokepoint.
She cradles a three year old CHILD in her arms, gazes down at him with adoration.
ALTAIRA (V.O.) I will always remember him exactly like this, even though he grew into a fine young man; a soldier of Allah.
The child, jet black hair and big brown eyes, stares dolefully up at the sky.
INT. MIHARA’S LOUNGEROOM - DAY
An unadorned room, dimly lit. Dressed in navy-blue hijab, head downcast, Altaira rocks back and forth - as if in a trance.
She sits up straight as MIHARA, forties, dressed in a light Burqa, enters the lounge-room carrying cups of tea. She sits opposite Altaira, leans forward to urge her friend to speak.
ALTAIRA At first they didn’t know what to do with me. It was funny really. Five of them, and not one of them brave enough to fit me with the vest.
INT. HOUSE - DAY (BEGIN FLASHBACK) A dark, dingy room that’s seen better days. FIVE Iraqi MEN, expectant expressions on their faces stare at Altaira.
For a moment she falters, then reaches behind her back to put her hands under her robe. She pulls out her bra, holds it defiantly in front of the five men.
ALTAIRA (V.O.) They needed to measure me, you see.
The men look aghast. Each steps back at the sight of her proffered undergarment. They mutter to each other. Finally, one of them barks an order to the younger man of the group.
MOHAMMED Go. At once!
INT. MIHARA’S LOUNGE-ROOM - DAY (PRESENT)
ALTAIRA They had to consult with the Imam.
Both women laugh, albeit uneasily, a moment of levity. Altaira clears her throat. She looks away then down at the floor.
EXT. AL ADHAMIYA WALL - DAY Altaira, stands stock-still by the chokepoint, the child no longer in her arms.
JUMP-SHOT TO: Her standing in the middle of the angry protestors. Slowly she reaches inside her Hijab...
INT. HOUSE - DAY (BEGIN FLASHBACK) The same dingy room, the same five Iraqi men. One of the men lifts a vest from a table in the centre of the room.
IRAQI MAN Not too fashionable, I know. But, you will only wear it once.
He smiles broadly, laughs. The other men join in laughing with him. Altaira doesn’t smile, just stares ahead.
IRAQI MAN Inside this...
He points to a disk-shaped device concealed and woven within the vest.
IRAQI MAN ...are three millimetre steel balls. Behind that, next to the skin, a C-4 plastic explosive. Two detonators...either side of your body. All you have to do...
He mimes the action.
IRAQI MAN ...is, gently pull both sides. Then...
He turns jubilantly, to his captive audience. Big grin, bad teeth. He imitates the sound of an explosion.
The Iraqi man bends over Altaira, ties a fine cord necklace with a TEARDROP SHAPED VIAL around her neck.
IRAQI MAN You know what this is for?
ALTAIRA Yes.
IRAQI MAN If you don’t achieve your goal... He rolls the glass vial lightly between his thumb and forefinger.
ALTAIRA I know what it is.
The Iraqi man nods, smiles.
IRAQI MAN Your grandson will be proud of you. You will finish his work and join him in paradise.
EXT. AL ADHAMIYA MARKET PLACE - NEXT DAY Altaira stands in the middle of the market place. The protest continues. Men jostle and push past her. They bang their drums, chant louder, raise their flags higher.
She turns full circle; wipes away tears.
Slowly, she brings her arms up to her chest -- then stops.
A YOUNG MAN with jet-black hair, walks directly into her path. She stares at him, transfixed. He smiles, walks on.
She follows the path he takes, as he prowls the length of the market place, finally he stops at a stall, bends down.
Altaira looks again, but he’s lost in amongst the crowd and chaos.
ALTAIRA (V.O.) I’d tried so hard... so many times, but failed.
Altaira, once again brings her arms up to the sides of her body, her hands shake...
All of a sudden: BOOM! A THUNDEROUS EXPLOSION rocks the market place. People run, take cover, scream and scramble for safety.
Bloodied bodies, and body-parts fly into the air and slam back down to earth.
EXT. AL ADHAMIYA MARKET PLACE - GROUND LEVEL - SAME DAY
Altaira opens her eyes. Around her lie the bodies of the dead and injured. She lifts her head, surveys the carnage around her. For a moment everything is quiet, just the low moans and wails of those in pain.
ALTAIRA (V.O.) I couldn’t remember detonating the device... and then I realized...
A US MILITARY WOMAN lies a few metres away from Altaira. Their eyes lock.
ALTAIRA (V.O.) (CONT'D) ...someone else.
Blood runs from a nasty gash on the woman’s head; shock clearly visible through the glaze in her eyes. It quickly changes to one of astonishment, then horror. She frantically gropes around for something in her pocket.
Altaira looks down at her own body, her clothing is ripped, the incendiary device still intact, but now exposed.
She jumps to her feet, stumbles. Weaves her way through the dead and injured, to run towards the chokepoint.
A bloody hand reaches into the inside pocket of a military jacket. The Woman Officer pulls a pistol, waves it in Altaira’s direction. She screams into the crowd.
YOUNG MILITARY WOMAN Get her! Get her!
EXT. OUTSIDE AL ADHAMIYA WALL - DAY The sound of a small vehicle approaching fast. Altaira, wedged up against the thick trunk of a Palm Tree, dares to peek from her hiding place. A small black sedan screeches to a grinding halt, throwing up dust in its wake.
EXT/INT. CAR - DAY The young man with the jet-black hair leans across, flings the passenger door open.
YOUNG MAN Get in! Altaira! Get in! Our work is done for today.
A dilapidated shack perches on a hill side. The field is over grown. DELILAH, 33, hangs clothes on a line. A broken down fence escorts a dirt trail.
SHERIFF COLSTON, 58, approaches by horseback. He’s flanked by two deputies, WILLIS and STEARNS, both in their twenties. It appears as though neither of this entourage has showered in weeks.
SHERIFF COLSTON Hello Delilah.
She turns. Startled.
DELILAH Oh, hello sheriff.
SHERIFF COLSTON I fear I have some bad news about your son.
DELILAH William?
The sheriff removes his hat. Delilah puts a hand over your mouth.
SHERIFF COLSTON He’s a turncoat.
DELILAH No, that can’t be.
The two deputies dismount and step over the fence towards Delilah.
SHERIFF COLSTON ‘Fraid so. Now, I don’t presume to know how other towns handle deserters’ families, but here, we like to make an example.
Each deputy grabs one of her arms. She struggles. They pull on her until her blouse rips open.
DELILAH Stop! What are you doing! This can’t be true!
A SHOT from afar echoes through the hillsides. They all look around. The Sheriff spots a thin stream of smoke rising up from the top of the hill behind Delilah’s shack.
SHERIFF COLSTON Who’s up there?
Delilah shakes her head. Willis puts a knife to her throat.
SHERIFF COLSTON Don’t toy with me, woman.
DELILAH Mother.
SHERIFF COLSTON Bessy?
WILLIS You mean, one-eyed Bessy?
SHERIFF COLSTON How longs she been hidin’ here?
Delilah slumps to the ground. The Sheriff smiles.
SHERIFF COLSTON Lets go. I’ve got a date with an old accomplice.
EXT. HILLSIDE TRAIL - DAY
The three of them ride their way up with caution. It’s a thick, wooded area.
STEARNS Weren’t you two an item once?
SHERIFF COLSTON Yes. Gave that woman my heart. Then she nearly killed me. Tried to shoot my pecker off.
Willis laughs. He’s silenced by the Sheriff’s cold stare.
SHERIFF COLSTON Make now mistake boys, she may have only one eye, but, for shootin’, it’s as true as I’ve ever seen.
Willis’ horse trips a string that jingles some metal cans behind a tree. They all stop. The Sheriff squints. Through the woods a shack can be seen with a rifle protruding from its window. His eyes widen.
SHERIFF COLSTON Get down!
ZIP! A bullet goes into Willis’ cheek and comes out the other side. He falls off his horse. He grabs his face and runs down the hill screaming.
The Sheriff and Stearns hide between their horses. Both have colt pistols drawn.
SHERIFF COLSTON Okay, gonna take her a bit to reload with each shot. Lets move to the woods for cover. Ya!
The Sheriff slaps the asses of both horses. They take off up the trail. The Sheriff and Stearns run into the woods. Duck behind a couple of large trees.
INT. SHACK
ONE-EYED BESSY, 57, is a broken down, hunched over woman. She has mangy hair and a dirty cloak. She aims the barrel of her lever action, repeater rifle at a boot sticking out from a tree’s cover. She has a fake, white-glass eye.
EXT. WOODS
The Sheriff studies the situation. He looks around. Notices Stearns’ exposed foot. He points.
SHERIFF COLSTON Hey, watch that...
POP! The leather of Stearns’ boot explodes open. He drops his colt and dances around on one leg.
SHERIFF COLSTON Shit! Shit! Just find some cover!
The Sheriff charges up the hill. Bark from tree EXPLODES right in front of him. He puts his back against it. Wipes the splintered wood from his face.
SHERIFF COLSTON Bessy? You, uh, you got a Spencer in there?
BESSY (O.S.) I call it a dispenser. Come for a closer look.
SHERIFF COLSTON (to himself) Shit.
He takes a peak around the other side of the tree. He slithers on the ground to the next one undetected.
INT. SHACK
Bessy waits. Everything is quiet. BANG! The window molding next to her explodes. She covers her face. The sheriff runs across her view not twenty feet in front of the window.
He fires again, misses. Bessy steadies, fires, kicks up dirt behind the Sheriff. He squeezes off two more rounds in succession. The first goes wide, the second hits Bessy in the shoulder and spins her around.
She drops her rifle. Leans up against the wall next to the window. BANG! BANG! Two bullets rip through her chest. She falls. Two holes on the wall behind her let sunlight filter in.
Bessy tries to crawl. The Sheriff kicks open the door. He smiles. He kicks the rifle away. He stands over Bessy. He turns her over.
SHERIFF COLSTON Well, time did you no favors.
He holsters his colt. He kneels down.
SHERIFF COLSTON Hope you don’t mind.
He digs his fingers in around her fake eye and pops it out. He flicks of the string of mucus that trails it. He stands.
SHERIFF COLSTON I’d like to keep this to remember this occasion.
BESSY Go ahead, at least you’ll have one ball.
She tries to laugh, but the pain ceases it. The Sheriff pops the eye into his mouth. He mixes it around like a ball washer. He spits it out and admires it.
SHERIFF COLSTON Mmm, you still taste good, though.
BESSY That's not me you foul pig. That's poison.
Now she laughs and succeeds. He pulls her upright by her collar.
BESSY You’ll be dead by tomorrow!
SHERIFF COLSTON What the hell did you do, woman?
Bessy stops laughing. She looks at him with a suddenly sympathetic eye.
BESSY You know what I did love about you?
SHERIFF COLSTON What?
BESSY How, you could never tell if I was lying.
Bessy sinks a five inch steel blade into his gut. She twists the handle. He lets her go and staggers back into the wall. He slides down it. He looks at his wound. He coughs up blood.
He chokes and convulses til his eyes roll over. Bessy leans her head back on the floor. She smiles.
LATER
Delilah enters. She covers her mouth at the carnage. Bessy appears dead. Delilah shakes her.
DELILAH Mamma? Mamma? Oh, please don’t die.
Bessy comes to.
BESSY I’m sorry, Dee. Its my time.
Delilah pulls her up and hugs her.
DELILAH They said that William was fighting for the north.
EXT. SHACK
Tree-filtered sun shines down on the shack.
BESSY (O.S.) I’m sorry, darling. I told him to. I thought it would be for the best.
A wall full of portraits of a young man who grows into a Marine.
ROXANNE (77) raises her hands, clumps her hair at the sides. Wails out a banshee scream to that wall.
EXT. GRENDEKO HOUSE - DAY
Three men in their early 50s: ANDREW, STEWART and GORDON Stand on the porch. It’s a cold day, the men hunch down in long coats, Gordon knocks on the door.
GORDON Everything alright in there?
No response.
ANDREW Maybe she isn’t home.
Stewart stomps his feet in an attempt to keep warm. The delay of going inside tests his patience.
STEWART Turn on the stereo, static cracks my ear....
GORDON Miss Grendeko?
INT. GRENDEKO HOUSE - CONTINUOUS Fear washes over Roxanne’s face. She looks left but moves to her right.
GORDON (O.S.) Miss Grendeko are you safe?
Roxanne hears the door open. She beelines to a pull down ladder that leads to the attic. The men enter the house somewhere O.S. Roxanne looks up in panic. Gathers her courage, climbs.
She makes it, turns, pulls up the ladder with all her might. Closes the access just as the trio arrive.
STEWART Horrible news about her grandson. She took it pretty hard.
ANDREW Wouldn’t you?
STEWART It’s alright, We’re The Police!
ANDREW Is anybody here?
GORDON I could have sworn I heard- hello? Miss Grendeko?
ATTIC - SAME Crouched down among boxes and cases, Roxanne listens to the men down below. She weeps.
She carefully opens one of the boxes. Pulls out a British flag and wipes her tears in it. Sounds of the men below. Boards creak. They leave.
ROXANNE Meaningless and all that’s true..
An open box of records, once stored away. Roxanne looks up to the ceiling. Shakes a fist.
ROXANNE (CONT'D) Oh my God you must be sleeping! Wake up it’s much too late!
I'm going A for this one. It just appealed to me more and felt more like a complete story, although the ending was a little jarring. The craft on display was obvious and it showed impressive detail for 48 hours.
There are major problems with all 3 on display...poor Slugs, missing Slugs, incorrect character intros, confusing verbiage (or missing V.O.'s), totally unbelievable stuff taking place...hmmm...some other things here and there, but it's 2 days time, so...OK...
All in all, they're all fairly well written, and yes, that's a compliment.
A - I don't feel it really adheres to the challenge, but maybe I'm missing something. There are strong things about this script though. Some well written locales, and attention to detail. It has a "real" feel to it, and I always like and appreciate that. It's got some power in it...it's moving. I just don't like how it ends at all, and it kind of takes away from the strengths it had going for it.
B - An interesting take on the challenge for sure. Some potentially good action that's decently written, but doesn't quite work as it is. Unbelievable character action and dialogue, IMO. Absolutely hated the stuff about the poison and the entire eyeball thing. Kind of fell flat overall, but definitely not bad.
C - Didn't get much out of this one, but again, maybe I'm missing something. Not bad, but just not good, either. Not enough happening that matters,a nd no characters to really know or root for.
I'm going to vote for A, even though I don't feel it hits the theme, and probably has the most mistakes in it. It did have a power to it and in this case, it wins out for me.
A - An intense story in there told from the bad guy's perspectives. A bit overwritten and the ending didn't work for me, but it was a bold entry.
B - Too much unnecessary action for a short IMO. The characters I also didn't buy much into. Though I was thrilled that it's a historical piece. Good creativity.
C - Started as an emotionally charged piece but didn't really go anywhere. It's like you ran out of time?
A. Bold subject matter. Good, evocative descriptions of the city. Some minor mistakes with the slugs. Should have given Altaira a specific age. "Middle-aged" just covers too much territory.
I sort of got lost toward the end there. Didn't know where the explosion came from or who the young guy in the car was. I also didn't get a sense of emotional connection between the grandmother and her dead grandson.
B. A good ol' fashioned western set up. Nice idea having that crazed old granny being a former flame of the sheriff. Had some cool shoot em up description. I didn't get the ending with the eye. Was it really poison or was she just trying to distract the sheriff so she could stick him? Didn't make sense to me if it was actually poison. And the scene of him sucking on a glass eye is beyond disgusting. But, this story had a certain mean streak that it kept all the way throughout.
C. Hmm, not sure what to say about this one. Seems like it was written in a real rush. There was no explanation as to why three detectives were at the door, or why Roxanne felt the need to hide from them. Too many unanswered questions. Which is a shame, because the writer had plenty of space to tell the story.
Close, close. Neck and neck at the wire. And by a nose it's...B.
A- very well done, put me in the situation and held my attention. For less than two days to put this together, this the most impressive of the three- but does it adhere to the logline? KInd of iffy on that. Recent events also (while this is set in 2007) also resonate with this piece as well.
N- Also well done, I liked this, don't see too many in the Western, and it's such a horse race with A it's hard to choose. I really think this could be something. I'm always in the mood for Old West type settings. I find them more challenging to write - no tech, boomtowns, and one has to write hard as hell to avoid cliches
C- I'm surprised this one's up for voting, Usually the "guest challenges" don't get this treatment. I read it, then read the comments. This piece was meant as a side joke, I think. It's going over most heads. I get it, though. Grandmother loses her grandson in some war, and she's visited by The Police. The Police being the band - it took another look to get it. Quite clever. But was it The Police a delusion or that they lived/rehearsed next door? The "records" in tha attic seems to hint at that, but it wasn't clear.
A – Takes the story to the war zone. It’s hard to feel sympathetic for a suicide bomber. I didn’t get the ending with the man and the bomb not blowing up. Is she dead and the man is her dead grandson? Detailed writing got in the way on this one. Excellent for 2 days.
B – Takes the story to the Civil War. On the nose dialogue for the first part. Interesting string of events until the last line of dialogue. WTH? Very good for two days.
C – Based on the song Mrs. Gredenko by THE POLICE including an appearance by the band mates. Clever. Are you safe, Mrs. Gredenko? The grandmother’s name is Roxanne, I love it! Wails like a banshee.
Vote for A, B or C
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Showdown #10 James vs Libby - CONGRATULATING
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