FADE IN by forrests

VIEWS: 12 PAGES: 10

									FADE IN: TITLE: „Not of This World‟ SUPERVISOR (O.S.) In the world you live in, talent is unlimited and creativity can take leaps and bounds; making an individual stand out in a crowd. EXT. OFFICE – NIGHT An illuminated office building touches the figures of its EMPLOYEES as they sit on the benches chattering privately amongst themselves. SUPERVISOR (O.S.) But suppose that in this world, each person has one opportunity to show their single true talent. STANLEY TURNER steps out from the office‟s doors and suavely slides down the steps. He stops to greet employees giving them thumbs up and coaxes them as they write. They react with a nervous look. SUPERVISOR (O.S.) It is true then that not all will succeed, and not all will discover what they could have obtained. From above, Stan is seen as he turns the corner; his body slams into an INVISIBLE WALL and falls flat. As he pulls himself up, Stan pats the wall to ensure that it is blocking him from moving forward. There is a YOUNG MAN just beyond the invisible wall, sitting on a bench. The Young Man is writing in a YELLOW BOOK. Extremely agitated, Stan turns around and heads towards the entrance to the office. INT. RECEPTION ROOM

2 STAN enters. The SUPERVISOR sits at a desk in the middle of the room. The desk is brightly lit from the light that hangs above it. Several rows of chairs are spaced in a circle around the desk, each one spotted in its own light. Seated in the chairs are several EMPLOYEES. Stan angrily approaches the desk. The SUPERVISOR raises his eyes from the CLIPBOARD in his hand, to notice Stan staring over top of him. STAN I‟ve been given a wall. Have you decided that my outside inspiration is forbidden? The Supervisor remains focused on the clipboard, not amused. SUPERVISOR You weren‟t looking for any such thing, Stanley Turner. Stan yanks a chair from a pool of light and sits down. The light dims out and places itself onto Stan. Paused silence. STAN Is this really the best way to communicate your expectations of me lately? The Supervisor rises from his chair and begins to circle Stan. With his arms crossed, Stan watches, but refuses to wipe off his sly smile. SUPERVISOR Doesn‟t it concern you that you have yet to display anything that is originally yours? The Supervisor rips a paper from his clipboard. He crumbles and tosses it into a WASTEBASKET sitting next to the desk. SUPERVISOR It isn‟t likely that a talent of your maturity will get much more time. STAN

3 Well, being locked up in the office doesn‟t exactly help me come up with an exciting, original idea. SUPERVISOR Might I once again remind you that my expectations are high and patience is low. Very low in your case, Mr. TurnerDo not dishearten your awaiting audience. The Supervisor rests himself back into his chair. He rocks it back and forth, all the while locking his eyes on Stan. SUPERVISOR I suggest that you get busy, Stan. The Supervisor slips a WHITE BOOK towards Stan. Stan gets up from his seat. He takes the book and exits. INT. OFFICE HALLWAY – NIGHT The hallway is silent and empty. The moonlight shines through the window, illuminating STAN in the distance. His fingers sift through the light. He then begins to tirelessly sketch; his GRAY BOOK flapping in his lap from the speed. Crumpled papers are scattered across the floor, none of which have fallen into the wastebasket adjacent to him. STAN Why? Why can I never explain the way I visualize something into words? Stan tosses another sketch. STAN The Supervisor fails to interpret what the writer has blatantly placed in front of his face. So many stories will never be told justly. He rises and begins to pace back and forth. His feet are smashing the papers beneath them. Stan tosses his book off to the side and sits back down. He puts his head in his hands. He turns and notices that the

4 book has fallen face OPEN. There are WORDS etched on every line. He looks down at it curiously. He snatches the book from the ground and flips through the pages. Every section is filled with paragraphs. He smiles with delight. After a moment of reading, Stan pauses on one particular page with interest. Tapping his finger on the words, he reads aloud: STAN “If you were of this world, the world would love his own: but because you are not-“ His eyes close. He releases a sigh of relief. STAN My thoughts inscribed on paper. So on the contrary, this must be what it is to think outside of the wall. He looks out the window and presses his hand against the glass. His other is tightly wound around his precious book. A loud RUSTLING from down watches as the SUPERVISOR Stan freezes, waiting for compelled to move towards INT. GRAVE ROOM A dank green light looms over the walls that seem to “fold” in and spill onto the floor. WASTEBASKETS fill the room in rows that resemble headstones in a graveyard. Each one is filled with papers. STAN slowly enters. He places his hand on the wall to test its security. As he pans the room he decidedly reaches down and to pick up a crumpled document from the nearest basket, it reluctantly pulls away. Stan is taken aback by the wastebasket but forcibly snatches the document and reads the front page. It is a SCRIPT. As he stares at the white front of the script it begins to speak to him through a distorted voice. As he smoothes the page, the voice becomes more distinct. the hallway interrupts Stan. He steps out from a GREEN lit room. the hallway to go silent. He is the room.

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SCRIPT I‟m glad you denied me. Too much for you. You lost your chance at it for good. Stan shakes the script in order to find the voice, then attempts to turn the page. The script hisses violently. SCRIPT You won‟t read it. It is Mine. My World. Angry VOICES fill the small room. Each one moaning or complaining, “This world, my world.” STAN What is your fate? Why are you so angry? Speak to me! The voices intensify. Upset by the commotion, Stan turns in circles, frantically looking for the exit. He knocks over a few wastebaskets. Tripping and crunching paper only increases his fumbling move towards the wall. Upon locating the door, he drops the script and leaves the room quickly. INT. OFFICE HALLWAY – MORNING STAN enters the hallway, he has been awake all night. He drags his body past conversations that are taking place in the hallway. He locates an empty seat next to a WASTEBASKET. He opens his DARK GRAY book. In Stan‟s mind, the conversations from the EMPLOYEES around him slowly change to the ones from the Grave Room. They are relentless. His pen digs into the paper. The same YOUNG MAN that Stan passed at the stairs is sitting across from him. The Young Man sits in the light, while Stan pushes himself deeper away from the rays. Unknowingly they mimic each other‟s every move: Turning pages at the exact moment, placing pen to mouth in thought, as well as looking out the distant window.

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Stan attempts to massage the frustration from his brow. The Young Man acknowledges Stan with a nod then smiles at him. Stan returns the smile and notices the YELLOW BOOK in the Young Man‟s hands. He looks back at his own BOOK. An EMPLOYEE strolls past him, tossing a paper into the WASTEBASKET. The WHITE paper inside of the basket casts off an intense SOUND that startles Stan out of his concentration. He gazes down and reluctantly reaches for the paper. The paper is COLD to the touch when Stan reaches for it. He pulls away from the shock, but is determined to grab it regardless of its odd condition. Stan attempts to unfold the crumpled paper but it is reluctant to his pulling. Keeping his head down, Stan looks at the EMPLOYEES around him. The wastebasket is now clearly EMPTY. The Young Man stares hard at him, then gets up to exit. The SUPERVISOR strolls past turning his head from left to right, watching the activities of his EMPLOYEES. He knowingly looms over Stan for a brief moment, and then carries on with his walk down the hall. EXT. OFFICE – EVENING STAN sits at the steps of the building. People walk past him cautiously as he talks to himself, switching from side to side in an attempt at a conversation between two characters. They watch him curiously as he begins to move around the small stair area. He follows the perimeter of the INVISIBLE WALL, pacing thoughtfully. As if going mad, Stan smiles arrogantly while inscribing several lines in his BLACK BOOK. He stares at his progress and scowls at it. STAN My inspiration has left me. They‟re gone. Every thought, every word, has left me. What now? Stan drops his head once more. He clenches the page that he was working on; it tears from its place. He falls onto a bench.

7 STAN If those stories weren‟t useful, They wouldn‟t still exist where someone could see them. Their anger is legitimate, isn‟t it? Stan sits alone, weeping silently to himself. INT. OFFICE With his clipboard in hand, the Supervisor watches Stan outside from the window. He places his hand over top the pane that Stan is seen from. INT. HALLWAY STAN paces through the hallway, opening his book then closing it. He unconsciously follows a group of EMPLOYEES that are forming a line as they head down the hallway. The SUPERVISOR is slowly coming up behind him. SUPERVISOR What‟s this? Decided to just give in? Honestly, Stan. I thought more of your talent. Stan jumps from fright. He pulls himself out of the line. As he composes, he turns around to face the Supervisor. STAN Oh, I aim to please! If anything is important to me in this world it is to please the audience. Stan‟s hands move his book inconspicuously behind his back. The Supervisor continues towards the door at the end of the hall. He opens the door with a horrid bang. He smiles at Stan as he genteelly urges the line into the doorway. SUPERVISOR Don‟t allow yourself to be consumed. Live it out, boy. You‟ve got time.

8 Stan turns the corner. He glances back over and watches as the Supervisor passes through a doorway and shuts it behind him. Stan looks to his opposite side to see the room that he had entered the previous night. He heads towards it.

INT. GRAVE ROOM STAN cracks the door open the green light from within pours over him. He desperately enters and falls to the ground. Stan opens his book. It appears tattered. STAN I‟m going to make it so that you will not be sitting here, useless. “My world.” The VOICES repeat unmercifully. Stan stands in the middle as the wastebaskets gradually get closer and closer. They begin to formulate a circle around the desperate man. Stan begins to pull papers left and right, reading several different scripts. He sits in a pool of red light as the green light slowly dims away. The walls seem as if they are closing in on him. The scripts voices gradually become less intense as Stan steals their pages and begins to copy their words into his book. Stan cries as he writes. STAN I can still make this original. I can make their words my own. They cannot reveal that I have taken their dead words and given them new meaning. The lights dim into complete darkness. INT. RECEPTION – MORNING The SUPERVISOR stands overseeing the activities of the day. He looks down at his CLIPBOARD, his eyes pan the area,

9 stopping on each figure sitting in their assigned chairs. His eyes lessen as he notices an empty chair off to the side. SUPERVISOR Stanley Turner, you will lose what was granted to you. Your talent has come to an end. The Supervisor parades towards the hallway. INT. HALLWAY The YOUNG MAN is sitting at the bench at the beginning of the hallway, nearly to the end of his YELLOW book. Many EMPLOYEES sit along the benches against the wall. The Young Man is interrupted by the overbearing SOUND of someone running down the hall. He looks up to find STAN advancing sharply around the corner. Stan slows to a stop as he notices the Young Man. He looks towards the other faces. They immediately pull their glances away from him, some tuck their books away. Stan turns back to the Young Man. He looks at him proudly. STAN It ends with this. If you‟re not attentive about how you work your craft, you will have wasted your talent. The Young Man stares at the BLACK book, then looks back up at Stan. STAN I turned to an empty, dead world. One where the talent refused to convey any knowledge and experience because it was afraid that another would surpass it with a more sophisticated approach of storytelling. Stan covers his face and tries to shake off his nerves. He stares once again at the Young Man and releases the book

10 into his hands. Once Stan is released from the book, he clasps the Young Man‟s hand. STAN Don‟t follow our ways. It is delusional to consider that there is an alternative. Be honest to yourself as well as to the audience that relies on you for truth and morals. This is what will distinguish you among others. Invest in your stories. They will mean something if you embrace them. Stan turns to see the SUPERVISOR down the hallway. With his hands surrendered, Stan walks towards him. The Young Man stares at the WHITE book that Stan has handed him, and opens to the first page. It reads: STAN (O.S.) This is for you to share. I give you what I believe you understand. Don‟t let anyone take away what you know the audience deserves. After all, that is what our talent is intended for…to improve, inform and inspire. This is your time. With tears in his eyes, the Young Man takes his PEN to the PAPER and begins to write in Stan‟s book. SUPERVISOR (O.S.) Good writers know that their talent is to set a foundation in a story. It is the audience who must interpret for themselves how it should continue. The writer also knows that honesty is the best form of expression they can obtain. Trust me, when I say that good writing begins by thinking outside of this world…or shall I rephrase, it is not of this world. THE END


								
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