http://drop.io/ikvhzao# (you might need to click zoom a few times) OK, long story short: I have a class in production practice where we were given a task of writing a short script within a month. I however did not know this until two days ago as I have been out of college and work with what my local GP referred to as 'the worst flue he has ever seen' - thankfully it wasn't swine flu, but I've barely been able to leave the house until late last week. I bumped into a girl in my class on Sunday and she mentioned that they thought I had left the course due to not being in (my lecturer had failed to provide us with his e-mail address which hardly helped; still I should have rang or e-mailed the college itself but there's no point crying over spilt milk now). Anyway this has meant that I have had to basically churn out whatever came to mind in the last 48 hours. I have also missed out on the interactive method of collectively critiquing each others first-and-second drafts that have been doing in class over the last few weeks. There is no exam in this course, attendance & interaction counts for 20% of the course while this script is worth 80%. So basically, I cannot afford to give in a first draft as my final script or I am fairly guaranteed to fail, especially as I have written nothing in three years. So I was hoping some people could help me out here? It's only 14 pages - in format - so it won't take long to read. Be as harsh as you like, scathe it if you have to (I can't afford to be thin-skinned on this one). Just please give me a possible means for improvement or constructive elements to your criticism as well. I will forever be in debt to whomever is willing to help me out here. --- As a foreword, the film is meant to be somewhat of a farcical parody surrounding the Irish financial institutions and their irresponsibility (and ultimately, the irresponsibility of the average Irisah consumer as well). Roughly 10 years ago I remember hearing Ireland had the 18th strongest GDP in the world (and we have had north Europe's high cost of living standards for a good few years too; that may have dropped over the past 12 months mind). As a small nation with thatm uch wealth, you woudl htink that at least weathering the financial storm of the last year wouldn't be so hard, but that is not the case. After Iceland, Spain and the Latvia/Estonia/Lithuania triangle we are estimated to have taken the largest hit financial hit worldwide. Unemployment has gone from roughly 3% about two years ago, to 12.6% last month. Our government has done nothing to help this, and many financial experts such as David MacWilliams were laughed at by these politicians, and have now been proven to have had a far better idea about what to do (indeed our minister for finance had to literally call to MacWilliams' doorstep at 'the 11th hour' in secret at night; he would have been ousted had his party found out. Together they came up with a scheme that stopped our financial system from doing exactly as Iceland's did). The banks are arguably the worst of the lot, we all know the story there. One chief exec. even gave himself a £1mn bonus on the very day that the taxpayers had to bail out the banks. Ireland has basically gone from being penniless until the mid/late 90s, to hugely rich over the last 10 years, to just squandering every penny with anybody in power 'taking the money and running' and the proletariat a) accepting this because "well, you just have to vote for Fianna Fail" (the dominant party who have been in power throughout), and b) taking out insane loan and 100% fixed-rate mortgages, where the average three-bedroom suburban house in the property boom cost -at least- €700k+. Now everybody seems to be in debt, nobody can pay it off, and retailers have suffered hugely for overpricing their products (publicans too - a huge trade in Ireland - but that's what you deserve when you charge €5 for a beer). --- Anyway, I'll briefly explain one or two other localised things: Mary Harney. Awful politician, awful person. She has been at the centre of a number of expense scandals recently (including a €800k trip to America that she claims was for business, but has not commented on what exactly the 'business' was). She took over the already poorly-ran Health Ministry in 2004 and has made it far worse. It is overbloated and beurocratic beyond anybody's wildest nightmares, spending funds on excessive office workers has while hospitals are woefully understaffed and under-equipped. The banks, tax offices, etc. Far too many staff, far too much beurocracy, far too much corruption. We have bailed them out once in the last year, and it looks like we might have to again soon, while they continue to give huge bonuses, outrages salaries/pensions and whatnot, and have not had (m)any higher ups forced to retire, nor a mention of them socialising. They are a hugely faceless organisation, so I did not give their characters names. The Irish public. It infuriates me how so many people have just sat by and talked angrily about these issues, yet not acted on them. Even in a recent election at the start of the crisis Fianna Fail won by a fairly large margin. I made a point of asking people why they would vote for these people and the answers were nearly unanimous: - It's Fianna Fail, I just trust them. - There's just 'something' I don't trust about Enda Kenny (opposition leader). - They're (political parties) all the same, so why bother? - Etc, etc Basically it is hard to argue that we deserve any better when we put up with so much and despite all our bitching and moaning, actually do very little about it. This is why the protagonist (Jack) will come across something bizarre or just plain wrong, and when he questions it and does not get an answer, he will just move on. Anyway, that's it. Hopefully some people can help me out here; if there is anything else that doesn't make sense please ask!
Oh yeah, these are the main questions I have been pondering over: Am I revealing First Legal to soon? - As opposed to building them up as a potential mafia-like threat? What is right and wrong with the formatting? Are there many noticeable errors in the structure? - Is is too stop/startish? (e.g. a series of meetings) - If so, what could remedy this? Do I make Jack likeable enough? If not, why? - His betrayal at the end (gambling) is integral to the story though. Is the dialogue too rigid? Any advise on how to loosen it up a bit? - Could Jack's words express him better? Anything else?
OK, I will copy and paste it here. This will surely make a balls of the margins so let's forget formatting for the minute. Mainly any help of dialogue, descriptive/action point, and transitioning from scene to scene (which I can't help but feel is sucking the life out of the rising tension. I am in desperate need of any input - any help whatsover here - the deadline is running very close,, would be hugely appreciated. I have taken a slight overdose of sleeping pills tonight despite being up from about 4am this morning, and still can't get even relaxed. In short: HELP! PLEASE! I AM LITERALLY BEGGING! --- INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - NIGHT A bare apartment; minimal furnishings and makeshift furniture. Despite the lack of objects, it is still messy. JACK (O.S.) I know, I know. (beat) No trust me, I am taking this is very seriously, it’s my life we’re talking about here! I’ve been waiting to hear back from them forever! Believe me, I feel the same. Jack enters the camera wearing cheap suit pants, mismatching socks and a wrinkled shirt - a line of sweat developing on the collar. JACK (cont’d) No believe me, there’s no need for them, please not them yet. It’s been so long that I’ll have to get it soon. I know what they do and that is the last thing I want. Jack approaches the camera unwittingly, so we can hear the voice on the other end. PHONE (O.S.) Well I will see what I can do Mr. Murphy, but please be careful with your spending in future, and inform us as soon as your emergency tax comes in. JACK Understood; I’ll go into the tax office again first thing tomorrow. Hanging up the phone, Jack reclines on his couch with a beer and flicks through some channels. Superimpose -- THE CRUNCH JACK (cont’d) ********ING USELESS DODGY BOXES!! CUT TO: EXT. TALLAGHT TAX OFFICE - DAY Now in a well-pressed suit, shiney shoes and well-kept hair, we see Jack approaching the front door. INT. TALLAGHT TAX OFFICE Jack is sat down in the near-empty queue, number in hand, staring at a television screen, on which Mary Harney is being interviewed and claiming to ‘unable to comment without having the facts at hand.’ Jack’s feet tap off the ground and fingers off the arm of the chair frantically. All ten desks are available-and-manned, yet only one of them has a customer who is being served. JACK (under his breath) Come on, come on! P.A. SYSTEM (O.S.) Number sixty-one to desk number four, please. Jack walks to the counter, sits, and is met by a middle-aged woman who resembles a librarian more than anything else. Her name-badge strangely reads ‘Desk #4’. DESK #4 So, what do you want? JACK I am here about my emergency tax, it has been seven months and still... DESK #4 (interrupting, to someone off screen) Hey, pick us up a twenty blue and come coffee will you? And a sandwich! Now, what was your problem? JACK My problem was that it has been seven months and I still haven’t recieved... DESK #4 (interrupting, again off camera) No, no! You know I’m allergic to mayonnaise. Just ask for butter of spread. Sorry for that. JACK Seven months. Seven months I have been waiting and still have no emergency tax! How has it been so long? DESK #4 There’s no need for that attitude, now what is your name and PPS number? JACK My name is Jack Murphy; my PPS is 445632I Desk #4 types away on her computer for a few seconds. DESK #4 Sorry sir, it appears we don’t have any... Oh wait, I mixed up your name and your number, haha! What was tour name again? JACK Jack. Murphy. Jack turns a bright shade of red, arms crossed and knuckles clenched, as Desk #4 goes through the system once more. DESK #4 Here we are! It says we have mailed it out to you recently by cheque, and that you should have either received it by now if not in the next few working days. JACK That’s what I have been told the last three times I was in here. What is it with you people? It has been six months! Seriously, how many emergency tax forms have you had to deal with lately? DESK #4 Sir, if you carry on that tone I will have to ask you to leave. JACK Leave? LEAVE!? I’m going to be homeless due to your incompetence and you want me to leave!? What kind of a person are you? Desk #4 waives over the security guard who forces Jack out the door by the collar. The branch manager follows behind. MANAGER If you have an issue that we cannot resolve you will need to address it with our head office in the city centre. Now please sir, I will have to ask you to move away as you are disrupting our work; this is a very busy time for us as you can imagine. Jack leaves in a rage, as the bank manager and security guard each light up a cigarette and begin to talk and laugh about something trivial. CUT TO: INT. LOCAL BANK BRANCH - DAY Jack sits at a desk in a cubicle with a stately looking, middle-aged man, a name-badge reading ‘Branch Manager’. The branch is flooded with desks. Dozens of staff run around with sheets of paper, boxes of stationary, etc. A nearby group of workers circle a desk and are making sandwiches. A gigantic plasma-screen television in a far corner with dubbed subtitles shows Mary Harney, the subtitles read ‘I am unable to comment at this moment in time without the facts in front of me.’ JACK Well, that’s how it happened. There is nothing I can do until I receive the cheque and they won’t even let me know... BANK MANAGER Jack, this was your own lookout. You have owed this money to us for quite some time and I am sure you could have set up a direct debit in the meantime. JACK What can I do? I barely have a couch to sit, let alone money to spare for a direct debit. I took the loan as a student, how was I to know things would get like this? BANK MANAGER That was your responsibility Jack. We have made plenty of allowances for you but my patience is running thin, as are our finances. I can’t do you any more favours, try reporting to our head office in the city centre; they might be able to help you out. JACK Ok. Well thanks... I suppose. Jack walks away shoulder slumped, wrestling past the litany of employees before reaching the door. He passes a banker blowing his nose with a €50 note. CUT TO: EXT. CITY CENTRE - DAY MONTAGE (brief) Jack walks around City Centre; ‘great depression’ picture of Dublin. Shops closed down, children in tattered old clothes kicking around makeshift footballs, elderly holding up ‘will work for food’ signs etc, juxtaposed by men in suits displaying overt signs of wealth. The streets are flooded with ‘Yes to Lisbon’, ‘no to Lisbon’ and ‘Maybe to Lisbon’ placards. END MONTAGE Jack finally reaches the head office of his bank, and walks inside. INT. BANK HEAD OFFICE - DAY Jack walks through many halls and rooms in search of the appropriate department. Every time he is told to go down three doors and take a right. The rooms are stacked with workers, desks stacked on top of one another with people sitting on ‘bunk-chairs’, each rifling through stacks of paper work ranging from nine-inches to four-feet off the tables. They are all equipped with computers that appear to be from the early 1990s. Eventually Jack finds a door that reads ‘taxes and debts’ and enters. INT. BANK HEAD OFFICE - TAXES & DEBTS DEPARTMENT - DAY Jack enters the room. It is bare with no windows, though plastic sheeting covers the walls, roof and floor. A man steps out from behind a curtain, gun in hand and aims it at Jack’s head. JACK AH! MAN WITH GUN (menacingly) Under five or over? JACK (terrified) All of it, take it all! Just don’t hurt me! MAN WITH GUN (louder) Do you owe more than five thousand Euros... or less? JACK Less, less! Eight hundred over the last ten months. MAN WITH GUN (lowering gun) Then get out. Your interest will accumulate at 1.29% monthly. Pay it. JACK Where do I pay it? How? MAN WITH GUN (releasing safety on gun, still by his side) Before I change my mind. Jack runs out of the room immediately. INT. BANK HEAD OFFICE - LOBBY - DAY Jack lunges toward the desk, where a man sits staring at a computer, paying little attention to him a first. JACK There’s a man with a... FRONT DESK CLERK (interrupting) Good evening sir, how can I help you? JACK A gun, a ********ing gun! FRONT DESK CLERK I’m sorry sir, this is a bank. Now, is there anything I can help you with? JACK (perturbed) I need to meet with somebody that can help me find a way to settle the debt in my account. FRONT DESK CLERK Ah, very good sir. Just go through the door on your left there, and it’s the third room on the right. The door should read ‘taxes and debts’. Jack, in a cold sweat, walks out of the front door of the building. CUT TO: EXT. CITY CENTRE - DAY Jack is sitting in a fast-food restaurant eating a burger when his phone begins to ring; Jack answers. JACK Hello? PHONE (O.S.) Hello, Jack. I understand you have some problems. The voice sounds eerily like Bertie Ahern. JACK Who is this? PHONE (O.S.) Who I am is not important, Jack. I can help you. I’ve been in your situation before, and trust me - I came out of it all the better. JACK Is... Is this Bertie? PHONE (O.S.) I said it’s not important, Jack. JACK How did you get my number, Bertie? PHONE (O.S.) Again Jack, not important. And stop calling me that. Think of your children Jack, think of your children. You - and they - will need my help. JACK O...kay? But I don’t have any... PHONE (O.S.) (interrupting) What you want to do is get in touch with the CEO of your bank. Trust me, he can make these issues disappear all too well - at a modest fee, of course. I have arranged a meeting between the two of you in his office tomorrow at 10.30 in the morning. JACK Thanks! Where exactly is... ‘Bertie’ hangs up and Jack puts down the phone. JACK (cont’d) (to himself) Makes sense. (beat) I need a beer... CUT TO: INT. BANK HEAD OFFICE - LOBBY - DAY Jack is waiting in the lobby queue. Off screen we hear Mary Harney’s voice again about being unable to comment without the fact at hand. He eventually reaches the front of the queue. JACK Hi, I am here to.... RECEPTIONIST (interrputing) Five Euro’s, please. JACK Sorry? RECEPTIONIST The service charge is five Euro’s. JACK This is outrageous, I don’t even have five Euros on me! RECEPTIONIST Well whatever you have will do fine. Jack fiddles in his pocket and comes up with three Euros and eight cents. He slams it down on the counter. RECEPTIONIST (cont’d) You sir are a disgrace. Now what do you want. JACK (seething) I am here for a 10.30 appointment with the the chief regulator. RECEPTIONIST Well I am afraid he is at lunch right now. Leave me your number and I will get back to you when he arrives. JACK It’s ten-thirty in the morning? RECEPTIONIST He’s a hungry man; loves his wings. Sticky fingers, we call him. JACK When will he be back? RECEPTIONIST I’ll let you know in about one Euro, ninety-two cents time. (over Jack’s shoulder) Next please! Jack storms out of the building, slamming the door behind him. The door is on a spring though, and so only closes slowly with no impact. CUT TO: EXT. CITY CENTRE - DAY MONTAGE (brief) Jack walks through the streets, another over-the-top ‘Great Depression’ picture of Dublin. He passes by the Tripod building, where the gigantic ‘Choose Yes’ to Lisbon (Trainspotting) billboard instead reads ‘Choose Maybe’. Eventually Jack’s phone rings, He answers. END MONTAGE JACK Bertie? RECEPTIONIST No, this is the assistant you were so mean to earlier. We only make six-hundred a week you know! Anyway, he is back in office and ready to meet you now. Jack looks at his watch, it reads three fourty-five pm and getting dark out. JACK (begrudgingly) OK, thank you. The receptionist hangs up without a reply. Jack throws his phone back into his pocket and makes his way towards their main office. CUT TO: INT. FINANCIAL REGULATOR’S BUILDING - EVENING Jack runs in the door and sprints past the queue to the receptionist. JACK Where is he? RECEIPTIONIST Five Euros pl... JACK (interrupting) We’ve been through this, I’ll mail you your two feckin’ Euros in the morning. Now where is the financial regulator? RECEIPTIONIST Through that hallway, third door on the right. Please don’t be so late next time. Jack looks at his watch again, it reads three fourty-nine pm. JACK Figures. Jack jogs over to the door and knocks. Nobody answers. He knocks again. No answer. After the third knock, he inches the door forward and walks into an empty room. INT. FINANCIAL REGULATOR’S OFFICE Jack enters the room. There is nobody inside and a slight whistling wind coming through a barely-opened window. Jack walks about and inspects the room. He spots a wall of books by Charles Ponzi, Frank Abagnale, Eduardo de Valfierno, Bernard Cornfeld, etc. After a few more moments of inspecting the office, Jack moves across to the regulator’s side of the desk, spotting a Magic Eight Ball sitting in the chair. Attached to the Eight Ball is a sticker reading ‘chief executive’. JACK What in the...? Jack picks up the eight ball. JACK (cont’d) (sarcastically) I suppose this runs the banks? Jack fumbles the eight ball accidentally, but when he picks it up the answer has settled on “As I see it, yes”. JACK (cont’d) So our whole financial system is ran by a ball of ink and plastic? Jack churns the eight-ball furiously, it lands on “Without a doubt.” Jack finally snaps, pacing around the room furiously and throwing books on the ground. One of the books - [THE HOLY BIBLE?] - turns out to be hollow and stuffed with hundred Euro notes. Jack immediately stops; eye gazing upon the wad of cash. He jumps to his knees and begins to count it. JACK (cont’d) Holy shit, there must be thousands in here! Jack looks around, sticks his head out the office door, checks for cameras and peers through the window to ensure nobody is looking. He then picks up the bible and walks out towards the lobby. INT. BANK HEAD OFFICE - LOBBY - DAY Jack hurriedly rushes towards the exit door. With a single hundred Euro note in hand he glances over at the receptionist and begins to slowly approach her. She notices him and the money, her eyes lighting up. Jack pauses for a moment, then sharply turns and heads out the front door. At the other end of the hallway, a middle-aged man resembling Bertie Ahern in disguise walks with intent towards the chief executive’s office. He is accompanied by the ‘taxes and debts’ man. ‘BERTIE’ Right, let’s make this fast and quick. I don’t want a repeat of that Lawlor shite, you get me? MAN WITH GUN Understood, so what exactly do you want me to do again? ‘BERTIE’ Just don’t kill him. We can’t plant it all on him if he is dead, now can we? MAN WITH GUN OK, but do you really think the public will believe this guy they have never heard of has been at the heart of the last few years? ‘BERTIE’ They’ll believe anything, they don’t even have to understand it. We just confuse them a bit and they eat it up like babies. Why? Because we are Fianna Fail; we MADE this country! MAN WITH GUN It’s worked a charm to now alright, but I just worry we’ll be pushing the boat out a bit too far with this one - and at the wrong time. There’s only so much... ‘BERTIE’ (interrupting) Fixed rate mortgages. MAN WITH GUN Good point. The two men reach the CEO’s office. ‘Bertie’ walks in ahead, while the MAN WITH GUN waits outside. ‘BERTIE’ (O.S.) ********! MAN WITH GUN (peering through door) What’s the problem? ‘BERTIE’ There’s no signs of him! And Harney’s obviously been too; it’s an absolute mess in here! CUT TO: INT. PUB - NIGHT Jack and some friends sit around a table stuffed to the edges with pint glasses; some full, some empty. Various bottles of spirits and a very expensive bottle of wine also inhabit the table-top. JACK’S THIN FRIEND Bullshit, what do you take us for? JACK I’m telling you it’s true JACK’S FAT FRIEND Yeah, good luck with that. An eight ball? You’re such a wannabe Yank. JACK’S BALDING FRIND Oh well I don’t care. The drinks are on you and that’s all that matters. So cheers to that! ALL FOUR CHEERS! MONTAGE Single-frame images of Jack and his friends getting drunker and drunker in the pub, then moving to a night club and getting drunker and drunker again. Finally, Jack stumbling alone into a casino and putting a gigantic stack of chips on black. A close-up of the ball nestled on the number 21 (red), and of Jack being thrown out by the security guards. END MONTAGE CUT TO: INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - MORNING Birds can be heard chirping outside. Jack, still fully dressed and comatose from the night before, lies atop his bed. His wallet it open with a single five Euro note protruding from the top. A 2 euro coin as well as four 2c pieces lay on the sheets beside his wallet. Off-screen the television has been left on, with Mary Harney being interviewed. MARY HARNEY (O.S.) For the last time you do not have the facts to prove it. Regardless of what that child has to say, I got my hands on the donuts first. There is a knock on the door. INT. JACK’S APARTMENT BLOCK HALLWAY - MORNING The camera is facing Jack’s door from a mid-distance. Standing at the doorway, two burly men bang on the door repeatedly. Both are wearing puffy, navy jackets with white lettering on the back. The one on our left reads ‘PRE' while the other reads ‘LEGAL’. Cue menacing music. FADE TO BLACK.
No car chase No care.... Ill read it again later but it seems decent enough to hand in bud.Maybe you should post it on an Irish message board for a better assessment. You could change all the receiptionists to non english speaking immigrants & I'd change the blowing the nose bit to buying a new merc for the misus.
Yeah put it up on Boards.ie too, buto only got one response from a guy who couldn't open the PDF. I might swindle one receptionist into being from Poland, the Ukraine or thereabouts but can't really do it for all of them (PC brigade + college film; a bit egg-shelly). The new car idea over blowing the nose it could though, will prob throw that in instead along with a send up of Tommy Tiernan's "Carlow to Dublin in 14 seconds; I f;king floored it" line.
Just got the email back from my lecturer, and he really liked it (thank f'king God)! Genuine too and not just nicities, could read a lot of excitement in his words. Plus he has apparently never recieved a satire script from a student until now and mentioned it being a breath of fresh air! Relieved is not the word it only needs a few minor adjustments on dialogue and descriptions of characters, then a few typos and grammatical errors I noticed myself last night... and it's good to go! Best news I have recieved college-wise in a long, LONG time. Now if you will excuse me, I'm going ot have some lunch and bang this motherf'ker out before kickoff in c'est Paris! BTW srd incase you (like my manager) were wondering who 'First Legal' were, it was actually the 'Prelegal' dep't' of banks that I was supposed to mention. A friend of mine got a job a few months back as one of those people who call over the phone to 'remind you of your debt' (only job she could find, irony is she's actually the nicest person in the world bar none) and I was only able to get in touch with her yesterday.