INT. Theater Hall
Before the camera begins, the sound of heavy-heeled shoes can be heard moving across a wooden stage floor in perfect tempo.
The Title: An Artistic Revolution
The camera opens up on the stage of a luxurious theater hall that seems to be empty. Only the stage is lit. The camera is closed in on the profile of a woman’s shoes, following them as she moves westward across the stage. The shoes remain on the right side of the camera as the opening credits roll.
INT. BEDROOM
As you hear the footsteps, the camera switches to a bedroom with a carpeted floor. Just as the camera was gliding along side the woman across the stage, as if peering from underneath a bed, it follows the footsteps of a young guy in jeans and socks with a spring in his step as he steps to the same tempo as her heels. The man pulls an office chair back and sits down.
INT. THEATER HALL
the scene switches to the girl who sits down on a piano stool the exact same way.
INT. BEDROOM
birds-eye view of the keyboard to the guy’s laptop. His hands lightly land on it, prepared to type. His face is still unknown.
INT. THEATER HALL
from the same perspective, you observe the pianist move her arms over the piano, place her fingers on the keys, and begin to play the intro music. Abby, the pianist, is a creative independent who has high hopes to be a composer one day. The sound of keys can be heard emerging.
INT. BEDROOM
the guy, Jones, is a budding tech wizard who is programming a 3D graphic cartoon. As he types the codes and numbers on the screen, the scene flips back and forth between the screen and the score of the music the pianist is playing. At the end of the piece, the program comes to life on his screen. It sprays fireworks and dances before Jones shuts off the laptop, and leans back in his chair. He is seen for the first time, a man of 25, roughly shaven and shaggy hair. Suddenly, as he’s leaning back too far, the sound of a cell phone begins to ring. he then becomes startled and falls over backwards in his chair.The phone keeps ringing
INT. THEATER HALL
The phone keeps ringing, until Abby, a girl of about the same age of Jones picks up her cell phone from the piano and checks the caller ID: Dad
Abby’s Father
Honey, are you there yet?
Abby
(Her expression is panicked)
Shit
(trying to compose herself)
Yeah, i’m just about there. I got lost, new town and all. Ok, dad i’m about to enter the thing, so i’ll call you later. bye.
She hangs up before he can respond, and scoots the bench back, screeching and echoing across the theater. She runs off stage with her steps quickening. The camera follows her blonde hair as she scrambles to grab her purse and runs out of the exit door into a blindinglight. The camera stays inside the theater, and as the door shuts the camera shuts off.
A title note: The Mix-Tape
EXT. neighborhood
Abby lives in an average part of Seattle. Her house, is small and very suburban, yet it lacks much of the suburban charm. Her Garbage can is filling with water, and her grass has grown long. It’s raining as Abby rushes out from the front door to her old 1986 BMW parked in the driveway. It gives her trouble as she tries to start the ignition.
ABBY
C’mon, C’mon, Oh COME ON God dammit. (the car starts up, and she switches the gear into reverse) That’s it! Now let’s go!
She agressively pushes down on the pedal and reverses into a car that is also backing out of it’s driveway. The crunch of bumper on bumper is dampened by the sound of thundering rain. She sits there in awkward silence, wondering what has happened. Suddenly she realizes the wreck is real, and begins to bang her forehead on the steering wheel.
ABBY
Shit, shit, shit, shit, (more elongated now) shit. No, this is not my day. Why?
As she is talking to herself, the other driver appears outside her window and knocks on it a couple of times. She can’t make out the figure, but roles the window down to see Jones who is soaking wet, with nothing but his tiny umbrella to keep him dry.
Jones
Are you okay? Are you hurt?
ABBY
Yeah, no i’m fine. How ‘bout you? did I hit you hard?
Jones
Nah, but my car did take a beating.
ABBY
Well, a man’s ego should be kept in tact. (she smiles at him)
They both now realize their attraction for each other, and stare effortlessly into each others faces. Jones too begins to smile, and stammers as his body is shivering at this point.
JONES
Well, it would be nice if you’d help me fix my bruised ego then. Perhaps we can get a cup of coffee inside while we wait for the police?
ABBY
You called the police? (suddenly caught off guard) For a stupid thing like this? Do you realize that there are worse accidents happening in the city that they could be tending too, people…
Jones
Look, I understand all that, but you have to deal with this accordingly. I don’t want to stand here talking about this now. Can we please go inside or something? It’s getting kind of cold.
ABBY
(Extremely upset by now)
No.
She shuts her window, drives back into her driveway and puts her car in park. From the rear-view mirror she watches Jones as he stands there awkwardly, still ponderinger whether to go into his car or his house. She rolls her eyes, and turns her car off.She gets out of her car and yells at him as if from a far.
ABBY
Alright, alright. Come inside i guess. Just wipe your feet before you come in. But i’m not making you anything.
Jones smiles, shrugs, and runs behind her as she unlocks the front door. Music begins to play, a little light, but stil playful and fast. As jones is running into Abby’s house, a voiceover cuts in. The voice is arrogant and somewhat annoyed.
Ed. V.O.
What is this crap, Desperate House-dad?
The scene blackens with a thud.
INT. Ed’s Office
The thud was a stack of papers hitting Ed’s desk. The scene opens up with the papers. It’s the screenplay for ‘The Mixtape’. Ed, an older man in his late 50’s with rapidly thinning hair and a greying, but perfectly-trimmed, beard stares up at Jones who is standing across the desk with his arms together. Ed gets out a cigarette and lights it. He lets the smoldering ashes fall onto the script.
ED
(in a frustrated tone)
Look, kido, you got a lot of spirit in ye’, but you’re just not getting the picture. I dont want some piece-of-shit re-used plot line from every other chick flick out there.
Jones
But it is different. This movie takes it to a whole new level. It brings together two really different cultures, the old classical music and the new techno-remixing-dub step and turns it into something completely magical.
ED
Oh really? That hasn’t been done before? So explain to me what the whole point of the Cutting Edge series was about. Please enlighten me about every Molly Ringwald movie ever made. Wake up, you lazy-ass, it’s the oldest trick in the book. Give me one reason this movie would sell?
Jones
(A bit unsure)
Because the story’s a timeless classic?
ED
(you can see the frustration turn into hostility as the speech progresses)
Look, kid. Do you want to know why I called you a lazy-ass? It wasn’t because you were being lazy -there are plenty of other synonyms I could have used for that. I specifically called you an ass because words are like movies. And just like movies, there are movies we watch to pass time, and there are some that are classics. Some words, some words are just there for a time- like nimrod, commi, or lol. But some words, the really great ones, are classics. And no matter in what era you say them, they will always be just as powerful. An ass has always and will always be an ass. And THAT is why I called you a lazy-ASS. Because THAT is a classic. Got it?
Jones
Yes, sir. I’ll go edit it some more.
ED
Are you kidding? scratch the whole thing. I want a new idea, screenplay, perspective, whatever by tomorrow.
Jones
(saddened by the deadline)
Yes, sir.
ED
Morning.
JONES
(Completely flummoxed)
Uh, yeah -yes I mea-yes, Sir.
Jones picks up the script, which is now covered with ashes from Ed’s cigarretes, and heads out the door. As the door shuts behind him, the scene changes.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD
Jones, is standing outside of not Ed’s door, but Abby’s. He has just left her house, and walks, still sulken from his newly appointed task back towards his house, through the bleating rain. The camera, which starts off focused on just Jone’s face, pans out as he moves closer and closer towards his house, until he can no longer be seen as he goes inside. The scene blackens.
