Insert Your Own Witty David Lynch Reference!

Will I end up having to do massive rewrites to this piece too? Hopefully not. Enjoy!

Previously. . .

We now return. . .

CUT TO:

INT, Juuban High School, Classroom

MAMORU sits in class, taking some rather crude handwritten notes (a result of his old injuries), while a teacher drones on at the front of the classroom. After a moment, his mobile phone starts buzzing. Confused, Mamoru pulls out the phone and examines it-- REI has left a text message.

REI'S MESSAGE

Meet me at the front door. Now!

CUT TO:

INT, Juuban High School, Hallway

MAMORU quietly sneaks out the classroom door and starts walking to the front, keeping an eye out for anyone who might spot him. Then, just as he comes to a junction in the hallway, he sees a school official come out a door further down the hall. Instinctively, he walks down the side hallway. As he walks down the side hall, he peeks over his shoulder to make sure he isn't being followed. He makes his way further down, and then notices something. . . odd, about this hallway. It seems somehow more upscale and modern than the hallway he was walking down earlier, with a massive glass door at its far end, from which Mamoru can just barely make out the outlines of parked cars and motorcycles, seemingly shrouded in darkness. Mamoru slows down apprehensively. After a moment, he hears a binging sound from behind him. Turning around, he sees an elevator in the distance- one that wasn't there before- just as its doors are closing. He's just able to make out a FEMALE FIGURE, whose back is turned to MAMORU. As Mamoru examines the elevator, a CAR suddenly smashes through the glass doorway at the end of the hall, barreling down the hallway at around ninety miles an hour. MAMORU is only just able to turn around before the car SMASHES into him, and we-

CUT TO:

EXT, Cliffside, MOONLIT NIGHT - Continuous

The car- and MAMORU- smash past a barricade and fall a hundred feet down a cliff side, smashing into the rocky seaside below.

CUT TO:

EXT, Seaside Rocks, NIGHT

MAMORU is alive, but pinned underneath a the car. He tries in vain to push the car off. The car then CATCHES FIRE, and Mamoru tries ever more desperately to set himself free. Then, just as it seems he is about to be engulfed in flames, the CAR LIFTS UP just enough for MAMORU to free himself and crawl away from the wreckage. Once MAMORU is far enough away from the heat of the flames, he looks back at the car. The interior is engulfed in flames- he can't make out who was inside, which is probably for the better. Just next to the car, barely illuminated by the flickering flames, he can just make out a vague female figure. The figure walks a bit closer to Mamoru- while we can't make out any of her features, we can tell that she is gigantic- easily twice as tall as six-foot MAMORU. The GIANT WOMAN walks closer to Mamoru- from the shot, the audience will only be able to see her bare legs. MAMORU stares at this GIANT WOMAN for a moment before her hand reaches down and hands him something-- a CORDLESS PHONE.

MAMORU takes the phone and puts it to his ear- the camera slowly tracks until MAMORU is in the foreground and the flaming car and GIANT WOMAN are in the background, out of focus.

MAMORU

Hello. . . Yes, this is he. . . .

(MAMORU reacts to whatever it is he hears on the other end with shock)

But. . . . No, I-I wasn't. . . . She never told me. . . . I mean, I. . . I knew, I had my. . . .

At this point, the unfocuessed image of the GIANT WOMAN appears to catch on fire.

MAMORU

I know she. . . . you think I don't know that?! You think I haven't tried to help?! What do you think I've been doing all this time? You don't have any idea-!

The GIANT WOMAN, still out of focus, is now fully alight, like an effigy. MAMORU then hears something at the other end of the phone that makes him go white.

MAMORU

What did you call me?

MAMORU then turns around to face the WOMAN- but she's gone. The WOMAN, the phone, the car, and the rocks- all gone. MAMORU is surrounded by pitch black. Then, he spots something hovering in front of him- a dully glowing, purple SHARD OF CRYSTAL, what looks like a piece of a much larger jewel. MAMORU admires it, as if he were looking for this his entire life, and has finally found it. MAMORU slowly reaches out for the shard, which grows brighter and brighter as his hand approaches. Brighter and brighter, until-

PRINCIPAL

Chiba-san!

CUT TO:

INT, Juuban High School Hallway

MAMORU snaps awake. He's standing in the middle of the hallway, his hand outstretched. He is surrounded by people, including some teachers, the school PRINCIPAL, and a couple of students, including MOTOKI, who's leaning against a wall, his nose bleeding.

PRINCIPAL

Chiba-san. . . Mamoru. Can you hear me?

MAMORU takes a look around, confused. He spots MOTOKI, cradling his bloody nose.

MAMORU

Motoki?

MOTOKI

(trying to calm Mamoru)

It's alright, Mamoru.

MAMORU

(afraid)

What's happening?

MOTOKI

You just had another fit, but you're alright now.

MAMORU

Another. . .

(looks at MOTOKI'S injury)

Did I-- ?

MOTOKI

It's okay.

MAMORU

Motoki, I'm--

MOTOKI

It's okay. It'll heal. I can show it off to the ladies. You've. . .

(hesitates)

You've done me a favor, buddy.

MAMORU looks on in horror as we-

CUT TO:

INT, Juuban High School, Office

MAMORU and the PRINCIPAL sit in the office. A RECEPTIONIST stands at the door.

RECEPTIONIST

We still haven't reached his guardian. We'll keep trying.

PRINCIPAL

Thank you.

The RECEPTIONIST bows and leaves.

PRINCIPAL

I've been told you had fits like this before.

MAMORU

(distant)

Yeah. . . in junior high. About a year or so after I came out of my coma.

(beat)

What happened? I mean, what was I doing?

PRINCIPAL

I didn't see all of it. From what I've been told, you. . . walked out of class. . . your teacher, and Motoki, spotted you and tried to speak to you, but you wouldn't respond, so Motoki came up and touched your shoulder. . . just to get your attention.

MAMORU

That's when I. . .

The PRINCIPAL nods.

PRINCIPAL

And not just him. You waved your arms around, slammed yourself against a locker, threw yourself against the floor. . . that, I saw. Unfortunately. Then it seemed like you were calming down, but then you started. . . babbling. "You think I don't know. . ." and "What do you think I've been doing. . ." and. . .

(sighs)

Then you stood up, reached out your hand. . . and woke up.

MAMORU is horrified.

PRINCIPAL

Mamoru. . . I can't risk something like this happening again. I'm going to talk to your guardian about suspending you- temporarily. You'll just be on medical leave.

(beat)

I'm also going to recommend that she consider placing you in a special facility--

MAMORU

What?

PRINCIPAL

Chiba-san-!

MAMORU

This happens once, and you're gonna throw me in a psych-!

PRINCIPAL

You've already gotten someone hurt! I can't take the-!

The RECEPTIONIST enters, carrying a CORDLESS PHONE.

RECEPTIONIST

Excuse me?

PRINCIPAL

Yes?

MAMORU

I can't believe this!

RECEPTIONIST

Chiba-san, it's for you.

The RECEPTIONIST holds the phone out for MAMORU. MAMORU stares at the phone. . . somehow, he knows what he's going to hear. Rather than pick up the phone, MAMORU stands up and runs out of the office.

PRINCIPAL

Chiba-san!

To be continued. . .

More First Draft Badness!

If I wrote the Sailor Mo- Pretty Girl Aweso- Sailor Moon Movie #23: Yeah, It's Still a Sailor Moon Movie

UPDATE: I've made few changes to this part of the script, mostly to the first dialogue between Ami and Tomoe. The flow of the dialogue wasn't quite right, and the ideas I was trying to develop didn't connect to each other, or to what happened in previous parts of the script, in the way that I had hoped they would. I guess that shows me for trying to get a new piece of the screenplay posted on the same day I start writing it. Which is not to say I'll stop doing that.

All revisions will be marked in bold.

Last Time. . .

We now continue. . .

AMI (V.O.)

I'm gonna lose.

CUT TO:

INT, Tomoe's Office.

TOMOE and AMI are playing a game of chess. It's Ami's move.

AMI

If I move the knight, you have me in three moves. I move the rook, you have me in four.

TOMOE

That sounds about right.

AMI moves to tip her king, but TOMOE stops her.

TOMOE

You're not giving up that easily are you?

(beat)

You could still beat me, you know.

Pause.

TOMOE

. . .but you won't.

AMI tips over the king.

TOMOE

(sighs)

I guess that's one way to guarantee the outcome of things.

AMI

I suppose.

TOMOE

You suppose?

(beat)

Ami, I wasn't asking for you to agree with me.

Pause.

TOMOE

Do you like chess?

(barely a beat)

Of course you don't. You're not very good at it.

AMI looks up.

TOMOE

That's what you'd say, isn't it? If you were asked why you don't like it? Why someone as intelligent-no, as obviously and stereotypically intellectual as you, doesn't enjoy playing the definitive game of the intellectual class?

(beat, then shrugs)

"I'm not very good."

(Pause)

Now, this might be a calculated display of humility, in which case you're a liar.

AMI looks down, shamed by Tomoe's insult, and how casually he delivers it.

TOMOE

But somehow, I don't think that's it. I think you really do believe it. Not because you are bad at the game- you're not- but because you know you're playing at a level far below what you know you're capable of. . . even in no-one else does.

(beat, with slight contempt)

And you're alright with that.

Pause, to let it sink in.

TOMOE

In either event, you are . . . thoroughly Japanese.

AMI keeps her head down. TOMOE stands her king back up.

TOMOE

I wasn't playing with you to see if you could win. I playing to see if you wanted to win. I was playing to see more of the little girl I saw a moment ago, defending her mother when she knew she was being insulted.

(beat)

Look at me, Ami.

AMI doesn't move.

TOMOE

I know you're angry with me, Ami.

Tense pause.

TOMOE

(sighs)

Ami. . . you're a child, so you may not understand this. When you grow old, the world. . . grows old with you. Colors and sounds fade, the edges of things start to blur and blend into each other. Memories are . . . washed away, leaving only this shade of familiarity cast over everything. When you get to be that old, the idea dying, of losing of that world. . . doesn't seem as tragic as it once was.

AMI looks up, unsure of where Tomoe is going with this.

TOMOE

You're right. This isn't my office. My name is on the building, but beyond a few board meetings, I really have nothing to do with this place anymore. And that's how it should be. It's my time to let go.

AMI

(understanding)

The world feels old to me too, sometimes.

TOMOE

She speaks!

(beat)

And unfortunately, that's what she has to say.

Pause.

TOMOE

Ami, it's not the world that feels old. It's your world, the little subterranean bomb shelter you built up around youself. . . that's what feels old. I'm allowed to cast this world aside if I feel like, Ami. You're not. For you. . . for every student here. . . the world is young.

Pause. Those last words seem to resonate for Tomoe, for reasons we aren't quite aware of yet.

TOMOE

You know. . . I've given the odd lecture here and there, but it's ages since anyone has seen me actually walk the halls of my own school.

(beat)

Let's surprise them.

CUT TO:

INT, Reception- Continuous.

AMI and TOMOE leave the office. SAEKO is dozing off in her chair. AMI is about to wake her, but TOMOE stops her, and the two head to the elevator.

TOMOE (V.O.)

You remember the admission requirements for Mugen Gakuen, right?

AMI(V.O.)

140 IQ or higher on the Stanford Binet, or demonstrated prodigious ability in art, music, lierature-

CUT TO:

INT, Elevator.

TOMOE and AMI, on the way down.

TOMOE

Right, right. And?

AMI

(thinks for a second)

Japanese citizenship?

TOMOE

Bingo.

CUT TO:

INT, Lobby, Continuous.

TOMOE and AMI exit the elevator.

TOMOE

We could have admitted students from the U.S., China, Europe. . . but that wouldn't solve anything. Japan is an elite society where no-one is allowed to be elite. This school aims to change that.

TOMOE spots a plant by a wall that looks almost like a mandrake.

TOMOE

Take this, for instance.

(points to the plant)

Recognize it?

AMI

It's a mandrake, isn't-

TOMOE

Mandragora Telunorum. One of our star pupils developed the genome for this plant while she was studying here. She patented it, bred it, sold it to florists the world over, and got rich. She still donates a percentage of the profits to the academy.

AMI and TOMOE walk past the plants.

CUT TO:

INT, Hallway, Continuous.

AMI and TOMOE walk down a hallway. The highly decorated walls serve as sort a museum of Tomoe, with a timeline of Tomoe's life (beginning circa 1920), photos, and videos narrating the life story of Tomoe. Despite his age, TOMOE walks down the at a fairly brisk pace.

TOMOE

It's just down the hall.

AMI looks at some of the pictures. She sees a photograph of TOMOE, his wife, and his four-year old daughter HOTARU, dating from the fourties.

TOMOE

There's someone I want you to see.

AMI walks past a TV screen, playing a biographical documentary of Tomoe on a loop. As she passes, the TV displays a picture of Tomoe in a WWII era field medic uniform. Something about the picture seems. . . off.

CUT TO:

INT, Reception in front of TOMOE's Office

SAEKO wakes up to the sound of her pager. Groggily, she reads the pager. . . and her eyes widen.

CUT TO:

INT, Performance Hall

A full orchestra is in the midst of a rehearsal for The Lark Ascending. TOMOE and AMI sit at the back of the hall as the orchestra blares away. A violinist, MICHIRU, takes to the front of the stage.

TOMOE

That's Michiru Kaiou.

MICHIRU begins to play an incredible rendition of the composition's violin piece, with the orchestra accompanying her. AMI'S impressed.

TOMOE

We were only just able to snatch her away from Julliard.

A young woman, YUI, approaches the two.

AMI

It's beautiful.

YUI

Sensei.

AMI and TOMOE turn to YUI, and we see her for the first time. . . and boy, does she not look familiar?


TOMOE

Ah! Yui! I was going to come looking for you!

YUI

I've been trying to reach you for the last ten minutes.

(glances at AMI, trying to hide a sense of urgency)

There's something that we need to dis-

TOMOE

Yui! Let me introduce you to Ami Mizuno.

YUI looks AMI over. She really wants to talk about something else, but she'll oblige the good doctor.

YUI

Nice to meet you Ami.

TOMOE

Ami, this is Yui Bidou, the best and birghtest in an academy of the best and brightest.

AMI

Nice to meet you.

(beat)

Are you. . . the one who pantented Mandragora Telunorum?

YUI

(pause- almost insulted)

No. . . I'm not.

(to TOMOE)

Sensei, we really need-

TOMOE

(to AMI)

Yui is the head instructor of the academy's science department. She's done groundbreaking work in nanotech, ultracold physics-

(absent-mindedly)

Say, maybe you should show Ami the collider while we're here!

YUI'S normally cold, calm eyes widen at the word "collider".

YUI

(unsure how to respond)

Uh, Sensei. . .

TOMOE

(catching himself)

Ah! Of course, of course. . . but sometime Yui really should show you some of the facilities we have at this academy. I think you'll be amaz-

At that moment, SAEKO walks in.

SAEKO

Ami!

TOMOE

Saeko!

(shh-es, and points to orchestra)

Rehearsal!

SAEKO gives a quick bow of apology.

TOMOE

I'm sorry, Saeko. I wanted to give Ami a tour. I was hoping we'd be back before-

SAEKO

That's alright, Sensei.

(to AMI)

Ami, we have to go.

(urgently)

Now.

TOMOE looks between SAEKO and YUI. YUI gestures impatiently at TOMOE.

TOMOE

Saeko, you're timing couldn't be better!

AMI gets up to leave, but TOMOE stops her.

TOMOE

Before you go, Ami, I want you to think about something.

(draws her closer)

I'm sure that ever since you've been first identified as a prodigy, you've had people telling you that you that you must put your intellect to use for the better of society, or the nation, or whatever.

AMI unconsciously glances at SAEKO.

TOMOE

I believe that. You do have an obligation to society.

(beat)

I also believe that no-one could better know how to best put your gifts to use. . . than you.

AMI walks toward SAEKO.

TOMOE

Ami?

AMI turns around.

TOMOE

We can't register you until the fall, Ami. But you can visit anytime you like. I'm sure Yui would be happy to show you around.

YUI forces a smile.

YUI

Of course.

AMI and SAEKO walk off.

To be continued soon.

What a way to spend a birthday. . .

Well. . . I'm 28 now. I know that by any objective standard, I'm still a young man, but. . . I guess I'm starting to feel old. For one thing, I don't like modern pop music, and only know about its various more popular figures (Lady Gaga, Kanye West, Taylor Swift) from other people talking about them. . . hell, the only reason I know about the latter two is because of that thing they were involved in that all the influential media people wanted us to believe was a big deal.

(Hey, at least I still hate The Man. . . that makes me young, right? Right? No no, I don't wanna hear about decrepit hippies. My hatred of institutions stems from the fires of youth and nothing else!)

Another thing that makes me feel old? As of this coming July, I'm a college instructor. I've been hired to teach Physics 115, which is basically Physics 12, but more. . . University-y. This means that I'll be serving as the wizened mentor to a bunch of 18-year olds who will end up hating me because I'm now The Man and every young person hates The Man!

I'm. . . The Man?

Oh God.

Seriously, though, teaching Physics 115 is a great opportunity. I've already started writing down a draft version of my notes. In a lot of ways, teaching physics properly is a lot like writing a story. Okay, it's a little like writing a story. Still, I'm treating the notes to Phys 115 like my first novel.

And speaking of stories. . .

I'm at an impasse as far as Sailor Moon is concerned. When I started this whole screenplay idea, I like the idea of taking a revisionist approach to Sailor Moon. Since then, my "revisionism" has taken on a life of its own, to the point that. . .well, maybe I really should just stop calling it Sailor Moon. Maybe I should just start approaching this not as an adaptation but as an original creation that pays obvious tribute to old-school shojo, particularly Sailor Moon.

Maybe I should start calling it Pretty Girl Awesome.

I like it. Catchy, dumb, and reminiscent of shojo titles like Cutey Honey, Pretty Cure and, of course, Pretty Guardian/Pretty Girl Soldier Sailor Moon.

But if I do start treating this more like an original creation (like I should have been anyway. . .) that means I may not be able to keep posting, lest I give too much away. I'll have to think more about that. In any event, it's out there, for anyone who cares.

But wait, you're wondering, what does the title of this blog post have to do with anything you've just written?

Yesterday I invigilated the final exam for Physics 150, the course I've been marking this past semester. University regulations require that I get the exam marked within 72 hours of the invigilation, which means that I have to spend my birthday, and weekend, marking exams.

So, yeah. . . see title.

But, hey, Katsudon! And Source Code! And maybe new socks!

Things are suddenly looking up!

Talk about bad timing

The Japan Times reports that Keiko Kitagawa, PGSM's former Sailor Mars actress, is taking part in the anti-government protests in the middle east.

Okay, she's not. That was the April Fool's Day prank idea that crossed my mind this morning.

I think it could have worked, if I had more time to properly write it up. However, as it's already 11 o'clock and something like this would take a great deal of research and editing to get right, I decided to just leave you with the pitch. Maybe next year I'll plan something on the same scale as last year's DC Comics to Release Sailor Moon Comic post.

If I say "Don't think about elephants". . .

If I Wrote the Sailor Moon Movie #22: Oh, that? That's my pet elephant, Fukushima. Yeah, he craves attention. Just ignore him and he'll go away.

Christ, I'm already regretting this.

It's been less than three weeks since the earthquake off of Japan's coast. I discussed it here already, but it's becoming ever more clear that this event is going to have consequences far beyond anything a single blog post could deal with. In many ways, the Japan that existed before the earthquake-- the Japan where I lived for three months-- has vanished.

It's the height of selfishness to look at a tragedy like this and ask, "how does this affect me?" In no sane, meaningful does this affect me. Or rather, the ways in which it DOES meaningfully affect me are either so abstract that they don't hold any emotional meaning-- Canada's economy will have to readjust as Japan invests in cleanup and reconstruction efforts! Leaders will have to reconsider future energy plans following increased concerns over nuclear power!-- or are so separated from me, in the Kevin Bacon sense, that any emotional connection seems shallow and somehow. . . insufficient: my teacher had family members in Tokyo during the quake. . . my friends have family somewhere. . . a distant acquaintance was teaching English in Kansai. . .

The biggest and most immediate effect that this earthquake has had, on me, is to inconvenience a hobby, to complicate an overambitious creative writing exercise. And that is nothing. I know that.

That having been said. . . any story that takes place in Japan after March of 2011 will have to deal with the earthquake in one way or the other. It's just too damn pervasive to ignore. Everyone in Japan, literally or not, felt that quake. The people of Tokyo definitely did. Even if it's never mentioned, the earthquake will hang in the air for years to come.

So how will it affect the screenplay? I don't know yet, except to say "as little as possible". It will never (or almost never) be spoken of in the story; to mention it explicitly would not only be exploitative, but would ring false-- even after a disaster, people have their own lives to focus on, and THAT'S what they'll be talking about on a day to day basis. At the same time, it would be just as wrong to ignore the quake outright. People may not speak of it, but they will remember it. It will live on in daily rituals, in the economic and political fallout. It will live on in the memories of the characters, and to one degree or the other it will affect their behaviour. For one, it may even become an unspoken turning point, one that affects her up until the beginning of the film, in ways that even she doesn't understand. . . or doesn't want to accept. I'm gonna keep that to myself for now, partly because it dovetails with another plot thread I was already developing before the earthquake (and thus don't want to spoil) and partly because of how much I still have to figure out.

More is coming, though. I've been at this too long to give up now. I considered not posting any new screenplay snippets, but a talk with my sister has convinced me to keep going with the first draft. Expect the next part of the screenplay. . . sometime.

Oh, and bonus points for people who get the joke about the picture.

Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit.

Tokyo governor and ultra-rightist loon Shintaro Ishihara calls the March 11 earthquake "punishment from heaven" for Japan's greed (source).

Other gems of Ishihara's wisdom(from wikiquote):

On the Naking Massare: "They say we made a holocaust there, but that is not true. It is a lie made up by the Chinese."

Speaking of the Chinese:

"The Chinese are ignorant, so they are overjoyed. That spacecraft [Shenzhou 5, which carried China's first astronaut] was an outdated one. If Japan wanted to do it, we could do it in one year."

"China holds no value at all for human life and can start a war without any concerns. . ."

On Terrorism:

"A bomb was planted [at the private residence of Deputy Foreign Minister Hitoshi Tanaka]. I think it was deserved."

Asshole thinks he's hot shit because he used to hang out with Yukio Mishima.

3/11

I feel obliged to say something about the earthquake that has hit Japan, but I really don't know what. Honestly, I've never known what to say in the wake of tragedies like this, and have preferred instead to say nothing at all. This hasn't been so much out of overwhelming emotion as it has about simply feeling like I have nothing worth saying. Do I wish for the continued well being of the survivors? Offer condolences to the families of the dead? If I do, so what? What could the obvious platitudes of a distant observer possibly matter?

But for me, this is different than the Indonesian tsunami, or hurricane Katrina, or earthquakes in Haiti or New Zealand, or 9/11. I lived in Tokyo for three months. I used to walk by the skyscrapers which can now be seen swaying "like palm trees in the wind" on videos all over the internet. One of the cities I most wanted to visit was Sendai-- my M.Sc. thesis work on molecular quantum tunneling is based on research that began at Sendai's Tohoku University. Now it looks like that city, like New Orleans and Port au Prince, has been more or less destroyed. I have friends and teachers from Japan-- thankfully, though, their families seem to be alright. I was connected to all of this, in my own very minor way.

I find myself contrasting my feelings right now with how I reacted to the 9/11 attacks. Back then, I didn't have friends from New York (hell, I still don't), and to this day the closest I've ever come to the city is spending a night in Albany. Maybe that's why, in the weeks following the attack, the strongest emotion I felt regarding 9/11 was. . . irritation. I was just sick of it. I was sick of the constant news reports. I was sick of the flag waving and the fear mongering and the beating of the drums of war (of which there was plenty in even in Canada). I was sick of hearing that The World Has Changed. I was sick of the "oh! those poor souls" and "oh! what a terrible tragedy" that I kept hearing from people who, like me, had probably never been to New York or Washington, who probably didn't know anyone from those places and were falling to pieces over nothing more than images on a screen.

In other words, I was a cynical prick. A little cynicism is, and was, good thing (there are too many examples of post-9/11 irrationality to list, but one that sticks out for me is the "Death of Irony" that was supposed to have happened. . .and of course, these were pretty appalling too). But when cynicism blinds you to the fact that, maybe, just maybe, there are people out there who really do care and really are trying to help in whatever way they can. . .

Well. . . maybe I'm finally feeling the way I was supposed to ten years ago. Maybe that's what needed to be said.