Really, really struggling with this script. I need to write and direct this year, because I haven't written and directed my own film in several years and it's really been getting to me. However, I've been struggling with this script for some time and I'm finally at a stage where there's literally nothing left for me to do. I don't have time.
I really want to make a dark, experimental film inspired by Nick Cave's murder ballad's and L'etranger by Albert Camus. But I really can't ground it. I feel like I know the essence of the character, but I'm having a hard time fleshing it out. I want it to be experimental and mad and as if the film exists inside the tumourous mind of the murderer, but it's just too unstructured and mad to be at all accessible for the audience.
I think I might have to shelf the project for now and come back to it some other time. We're meant to be doing a mock pitch to the class tomorrow, but I don't have anything solid to pitch. I'll maybe try to produce this year or something, because I'm sort of messed up in the head a bit after spending days trying and failing to get anywhere with Tumour. When I sat down to try and relax and just doodle, I ended up drawing this! I think it's quite cool. It's a nice representation of the character I was drawing.
Anyway, here are some unstructured notes with regard to what I was thinking:
-Headaches
-Short circuit in brain; tumour. Lucky he didn't slip into a coma.
-Time becomes fluid. It bends. Memories blur with the present. That's one of the symptoms.
-Your senses start to change.
-Repeats what he says. "I've already said all this..."
-"This isn't happening. I remember this. I think this happened before."
-Juxtapose speed of life with something calm, like dust particles in a sunbeam.
-The urge to kill someone was basically overwhelming.
-I'm here and then I'm there and nothing ever changes.
-The literal meaning of life is whatever you're doing that prevents you from killing yourself.
-Sometimes it's not too bad, but there are times when I think my head's gonna explode or something. You know, like it'll keep swelling and swelling until it pops and I'll just shit myself and drop dead. Probably should scare me more than it does, to be honest. But it does make me nauseous.
-Is this real? I don't even taste anything any more.
-The doctor was the sort of guy who talks down to you. Like I'm sure he's smart and all, but he's not like Einstein or something. Really pisses me off when people think they're better than they are. But anyway-- Actually another thing; therapists are well meaning and all that, but I don't have time for stuff like that. I don't want to talk to some stranger about stuff like that. But anyway. Apparently I'm dying.
-Maybe vomits as intensity increases.
-I was only watching TV.
-The street was quiet. Beautiful. All I could hear was the blood gushing in my ears. I stayed for a while to listen.
Comments