RANDOM PORTIONS OF DIALOGUE FROM A NEVER-MADE MOCKUMENTARY ABOUT FILMMAKING

Feel free to steal any of it. It doesn’t really make sense in this form.

By Garrett Gilchrist

BRANDON: Hello. ... (laughs, indicates himself) You see, I've stepped out of character already. In a movie, you're not supposed to do that, you're not supposed to look at the camera, or acknowledge its presence, or the imagined presence of an audience, somewhere in the future. By saying "hello," I have done more than just extend a small, friendly greeting to you, whoever you are, the people I imagine in my head who will be watching this footage sometime in some conceivable future, should it ever be edited together well enough to be watched. But never mind. I'm proud to have just broken the rules and ruined the entire movie, in the first shot. I'm proud, and very glad!

--

BRANDON: And enter, stage left.

FLOYD: Hello, world!

BRANDON: I'm really glad you came. No one else has showed up yet.

FLOYD: That's normal. No wait. No. That isn’t normal. ... No, that won't work at all. What's happening here?

BRANDON: Not much.

FLOYD: Never again, my friend, never again. (prepares his own camcorder)

BRANDON: You want to know why I called you here?

FLOYD: I want to know why you called me here!

BRANDON: You do.

FLOYD: The question had crossed my mind, yes.

BRANDON: I'm making a movie.

FLOYD: That I'd guessed. But your tone on the phone belied a more left-handed purpose, o strangely-dressed one. Making a movie isn't normally seen as a red-level emergency. If I didn't know your lack of initiative better I'd have sworn from your audio theatrics that not only had you landed a major Hollywood contract, but that that contract and your set were now on fire!

BRANDON: Nothing quite that pressing, Floyd. Only a minor matter of life and death.

FLOYD: Movie-making always is. Say no more.

BRANDON: No, Floyd, this is important.

FLOYD: If it's important, then I must provide all the aid I can. What is this camcorded epic about, exactly?

BRANDON: Can't say for sure.

FLOYD: Secrecy? Stupidity. You got a script?

BRANDON: No.

FLOYD: Do you know any professional writers?

BRANDON: I'm a writer, Floyd.

FLOYD: A real writer, man, a published writer. How many of those do you know?

BRANDON: Personally? None.

FLOYD: Well, up that number to one, good sir! Meet Floyd Candide, writer-for-hire!

BRANDON: They published you?

FLOYD: Yeah!

BRANDON: What'd they publish?

FLOYD: The one about the guy who goes to Mars, only it's not Mars, and it's all broken-up, and he's not even a man, and he winds up eating himself by mistake.

BRANDON: I told you that was a good one!

FLOYD: All-consuming fire in the canyons of the blind, man, this is the bigger-than-big time!

BRANDON: Who was it? Who published you?

FLOYD: I forget, some thing in Oregon. The guy can't pay me or send me copies, but if it lasts beyond the first issue he says he'll call me again!

BRANDON: That's great!

FLOYD: I know! You look like an idiot in that costume!

BRANDON: I know!

FLOYD: I'm going to have to put on something like that next, aren't I?

BRANDON: Exactly!

FLOYD: Great. Well, as long as I don't have to be a bird, I'm okay with it. I hate birds, they scare me. Birds were not meant for this earth.

FLOYD: What's that?

BRANDON: Which that?

FLOYD: The grey that.

BRANDON: The grey that?

FLOYD: The grey that.

BRANDON: It’s just some grey thing.

FLOYD: I can play a grey thing. Gimme.

BRANDON: (giving) Given.

FLOYD: Right. (begins to put on the touches of a costume. It suits him. But it's on very much cockeyed, and incomplete.) Ratsballs, I need a mirror for this.

BRANDON: There's a mirror upstairs.

FLOYD: Upstairs then.

BRANDON: Right, but after that there are a-a few important things I have to let you in on.

FLOYD: Rewrites, the actor's curse. Let me down gently, I'm fragile.

[doorbell. Door is opened. PHIL, a small, socially-awkward yet not-at-all shy fellow who seems to be built of plaid, is standing there.]

PHIL: Uh, is this the ...

FLOYD: No.

PHIL: Great.

BRANDON: Hi Phil! Great to see you.

PHIL: Cool.

[Floyd grabs Brandon and takes him aside. Quietly:]

FLOYD: You didn't tell me he was involved in this. You didn't tell me you were bringing in outsiders!

BRANDON: You didn't ask.

FLOYD: Look, I know he's our friend, but really, he stinks at acting, and no one likes him. Don't you think that would kind of, you know ... ruin the movie?

BRANDON: Yes, it could. But I like the challenge.

FLOYD: Christ ...

BRANDON: Look, he's here, and he's not going away. You have to admit, he's some sort of character.

FLOYD: Some sort. [to PHIL] Right. Upstairs! Upstairs with you!

--

(Upstairs, a large well-lit bathroom mirror. The camera can clearly be seen in the shot, which is a reflection. FLOYD and PHIL are putting final touches on their completed costumes and makeup.)

FLOYD: Oh, that looks good. In a bad way. You did want to make a bad movie, right?

BRANDON: I haven't really decided.

PHIL: How do I look?

BRANDON: Like hell. It suits you.

PHIL: Hey man, like, y'know, I just got here and stuff ...

FLOYD: And stuff.

BRANDON: That's the important bit.

PHIL: I gotta ask ... what is this whole thing about?

BRANDON: Well, it's a movie ...

FLOYD: I'm in it ...

BRANDON: And it's basically about four teenagers conquering their fear of the world ...

PHIL: Three teenagers?

BRANDON: Four teenagers ...

FLOYD: Don't interrupt the man. (slaps PHIL)

BRANDON: And there’s a strange, melancholy flavor about the work ...

FLOYD: It’s edgy and wacky and now and wow.

BRANDON: No.

FLOYD: It’s just wacky then.

BRANDON: It’s melancholy. And there's no script.

PHIL: No script.

FLOYD: No script?

BRANDON: That's what I said.

FLOYD: So obviously we're not shooting the real movie yet. This is just sort of a screen test, a production meeting, right? I mean, I like the concept. Some of the costumes are all right. Mine needs work. But it's good. I could produce this.

PHIL: It sounds ... interesting.

BRANDON: It'll work out. (pats PHIL on the back.)

---

[The front door. GREG is outside, pressing the doorbell over and over and over again, and pounding it. He is thin, dark and wiry, and wears a long black overcoat, white gloves, and impressive boots. He holds a large metal rod. Brandon opens the door, and as he in in a bizarre costume Greg steps back shocked for a moment. Pause. Greg looks coldly at Brandon.]

GREG: Er, yes, well, I suppose you'd have to be. Hold this. [he hands over the metal rod] [The rest gasp into view.] Ah, I Floyd the herd's all here. Well.

BRANDON: Well!

GREG: Don't repeat me. In fact, never speak again. You've got a movie going here, I take it?

BRANDON: Indeed!

GREG: I'm in it. I may have trouble learning it, but I'm in it.

BRANDON: Wouldn't be the same without you, really.

GREG: I’ve got a question for you. What is America without God? (pause) It is America, of course, any schoolchild knows this, come on old mate, try to keep up.

BRANDON: Never again.

GREG: That's not the least bit clever. I may use it.

BRANDON: There's only one major part left. We'll have to get you into costume ...

GREG: Ah, costumes. Costumes are difficult.

FLOYD: Well ...

GREG: But I respect difficult, you sad, silly small man. Costumes I respect. You, I respect for using costumes. You ... (indicates BRANDON) I don't know.

BRANDON: We are spirit creatures. Creatures from mythology.

GREG: Oh, so THAT's what you're supposed to be! (Phil cringes) It isn't a bit like the Magical Mystery Tour. That, it wasn't good. But it contained three Beatles.

BRANDON: Talk a lot, don’t you?

GREG: If Beatles crawl on the earth then I must be John Lennon, for John Lennon was God, and what is God without John Lennon?

FLOYD: Or America.

BRANDON: Well, I don't know if a John Lennon costume would fit into our scheme of things ...

GREG: No, no, you amusingly foolish creation! Not a John Lennon costume, never!

FLOYD: Never again.

GREG: Many thanks. Here's a quarter. (produces a quarter and displays it, then returns it to his own pocket) Think now! John Lennon was the walrus. Therefore, if you are making your small zoo here, I must be the walrus.

FLOYD: We don't have a walrus costume.

GREG: Sacrilege! Lewis Carroll will be greatly displeased. Never mind, if we must be technical, our Mr. Lennon never wore the walrus costume anyway, it was, it was, it was it was it was it was (hits head) "Here's another clue for you all; the walrus was Paul." Paul McCartney! Probably.

FLOYD: Paul was dead.

GREG: The walrus is a symbol of death. John might have done better to back the gentle carpenter instead. I therefore become not the eggman, nor the walrus.

FLOYD: Goo goo goo joob.

GREG: Final words of Humpty Dumpty. Don't try to out-joob me, Floyd, I'm twelve hundred and eleven joobs ahead of you and it's not even lunchtime yet. But this is irrelevant.

PHIL: I agree.

FLOYD: It speaks!

BRANDON: There's only one costume we've got left ...

GREG: John identified with the walrus lyrically, but judging from the video itself, the only one of the english garden squad to sport John's trademark glasses was ....

PHIL: Was?

FLOYD: Was!

GREG: The birdman!

FLOYD: Do we have a bird costume?

BRANDON: No.

GREG: (jumps back, offended, mouth agape) You insult me, villain! Have at thee! (he produces a sword from nowhere and "stabs" the BRANDON twice before tossing it away.)

PHIL: He's a bit theatrical, isn't he?

FLOYD: It's his least endearing trait.

GREG: Watch the tongue or you may find yourself digesting it.

PHIL: [dryly] Oh, you tease.

--

GREG: I don't understand the story. Actualy I do understand the story. But it’s the worst idea for a story I've ever heard.

BRANDON: It's a commentary on society.

GREG: Society is an illusion created by big government.

BRANDON: Big government is an illusion created by society.

GREG: Society is an illusion created by population.

BRANDON: Population is an illusion created by an overabundance of people.

GREG: An overabundance of people is an illusion created by aliens, plugging electrodes into we who are really isolated brains in jars to create the false stimuli that we naively assume to be reality.

BRANDON: Higher beings?

GREG: Every being is higher.

BRANDON: Ah, now you're bringing religion into it.

GREG: There will be no God once man has eaten him.

BRANDON: What does God taste like?

GREG: A little overdone.

---

PHIL: Why are we doing this again?

FLOYD: It's in the script.

GREG: It's a good script. I’ve not read it.

PHIL: Don’t be stupid.

GREG: You're not a writer, you wouldn't understand.

BRANDON: I'm a writer, and I don't understand.

GREG: Well, I’m a writer.

FLOYD: You're a coffeehouse poet, not a writer.

PHIL: WHY ARE WE DRESSED LIKE THIS?

FLOYD: It's symbolic, I think, or maybe just purely visual.

BRANDON: It's a commentary on society.

GREG: Society is an illusion created by big government.

BRANDON: Big government is an illusion created by society.

PHIL: Stop it, I get it now, really!

FLOYD: Well, I wish you'd let me in on the joke.

GREG: How many copies of the script do you have?

BRANDON: Ah, the practical man. Like it, like it.

FLOYD: He's not given out any script at all, yet.

GREG: No script then! That's all right, I like the challenge.

PHIL: You’re an idiot!

BRANDON: What we hate most is others is what we recognize in ourselves. I am simply here as a negative example. Make of me what you will.

PHIL: I’ll make you into something.

BRANDON: You won't hurt me. You know the camera's watching.

FLOYD: We'll need a crew.

----

PHIL: Enter the three stooges.

TIM: Do you have lights, production notes, mics, anything?

FLOYD: Nothing. We have nothing.

PHIL: Is there a deeper meaning to that?

FLOYD: No.

----

FLOYD: Right, act one, scene one, let's begin the thing! Where to?

PHIL: Uh ...

BRANDON: Downstairs, and out the door.

GREG: [German accent] Downstairs, and Isadore. Or as the surrealists would say, un chien andalou ne donne pas un coup de pied au citron conduissant.

PHIL: Ceci n'est pas un pipe.

GREG: We'll mangle the language yet.