Started work today on the actual script for Callcutta, the sitcom set in an Indian call centre that A and myself came up with when on the phone to National Rail Enquires one freezing Kent night on a dark and desolate train platform after Christmas. The way we’re going to play it is we are jointly credited with coming up with it, also the story and characters have been devised between us, but I’ll do the actual writing. It should be a happy way of doing things. So before today the scenes were already all laid out and now it’s just about fleshing it all out with funny words in an order that will result in mirth.
Things went well today and I’m sure I’ll have a first draft done quite quickly, then I’ll show it to A when I’m in London over the weekend and we’ll make changes, write a 2nd draft and then arrange some meetings with glamorous TV executives. There’s already some unofficial interest because I’ve mentioned it to a couple of people that could certainly help us take things further. It’ll be a slow, tortuous and most probably futile process though. I’ll keep you updated on my frustrating progress.
So some of today was spent in front of the computer and the rest was spent desperately looking for excuses not to sit in front of it. This is the world of writing. Ideally, you need a locked cell with nothing but bare brick walls and a simple desk and chair in it to have an uninterrupted day. I don’t have a locked cell however, I have a room full of things to look at. I have a TV. I have some books. Next door I have a kitchen where I can go to look through the cupboards and make tea.
I even started watching Black Beauty on Channel 5 this afternoon as an alternative to actually working. I only watched the opening credits before forcing myself back to the desk, reasoning that I’m not an eight year old girl and therefore wouldn’t get a huge amount of enjoyment from the film. Or rather, more worryingly, I might really enjoy it and cry. That would be unacceptable in a 28 year old man and I didn’t want to run the risk.
Watching these opening credits though, it struck me that film and TV are the only mediums that have lots of information at the start of the ‘performance’ that tell you what you’re about to see isn’t real. It should theoretically shatter the illusion instantly. You’ve got haunting music and introductory visual information, but over this a lot of words that just say “this isn’t real. It’s a film.�
First, it tells you the names of the actors. That’s saying “The people you’re about to see in this film aren’t real people. They’re other people pretending to be them. It’s their job. See the fella who runs the stable and is mean to the horses? His name’s actually Alan and he lives in Crouch End.�
Casting by Mary Kelly. “And this name here is the Casting Agent. She picked Alan to play the stable bloke. Not even his decision. She picked all the people you’re about to see. All the ACTORS.�
Edited by John Groat. “See if you look carefully, you’ll see the image before you suddenly change. Or a conversation between two people will have one person’s head and then another person’s head on the screen. This is because all you’re about to see is recorded on bits of film and then all these pieces have been put together by someone on a machine or a computer. None of it’s real. None of it.�
Screenplay by David Hughes. “And none of the following events even happened! It was all made up by this bloke! You’ve been conned! You’re an idiot if you thought any of it happened! Remember that when you watch the film. It’s all the invention of this man.�
Produced by Leslie Royton and Mark Therdon. “And these two are the Hollywood power lunch people who thought that making the following film about the stupid horse you like so much would be a financially viable thing to do and organised it all – TO MAKE MONEY and keep them in Porches and cocaine. They’re deeply artificial people who will stab you in the back in a second although they’ll tell you they think you’re really great. They live in LA and are gits.�
Directed by Tom Plopface. “And remember Alan, the actor who isn’t really someone who works in a stable? Well what he’s doing isn’t even up to him! It’s up to this bloke! He’s telling everyone what to do! Did you think it was all really happening! You must be simple, mate! Ha-Ha-Ha!�
I don’t know why they have all this at the start. Just have it at the end. At the end it’s informatively saying “Right, I’m glad you enjoyed that. But you might be surprised to know that all the people you saw on the screen weren’t real but actors just pretending, and here is a list of their names. And the names of all the people that contributed to making this FILM con your stupid brain.�
Imagine a puppet show on the beach for children and the puppeteer coming out and saying “Right, before I start, I’d like to point out to you that this crocodile is, in fact, a simple toy made out of wood. It can’t speak or act for itself. I’ll be doing all that from down there behind that curtain. None of the following is in any way real. And look at these sausages, they’re actually tights tied up to look a little bit like sausages. They’re completely inedible. And look at Mr Punch! He’s clearly not real. Look! He’s a crude wooden figure with a big nose. He doesn’t resemble anything that’s ever lived. How could you possibly believe any of the following could possibly relate to real life? You young spazzers.�
Or a play starting with the leading lady coming out and saying “Hi. Alright? Just to let you know my name’s Ruth, not Elaine, and when I kiss the prince later it might look as if I’m enjoying it but actually I’m not because I’m married to my husband, Michael, whom I live with in Barnet and actually the bloke who’s pretending to be the Prince is gay anyway, as if you couldn’t tell. I’ve just been told to kiss him by the annoying man who’s written this tosh who’s sat over there, and the guy that’s directing us all who’s the one with the beard sat up there at the back looking slightly ill. Anyway, hope you like it. See you in a bit when I’ll be Elaine. But only pretending. I’m Ruth remember. Bye.�
- Post to:
del.icio.us
Digg
Newsvine
Nowpublic
Reddit
« Previous | Home | Next »