Un petit bout de script :
INJECTION #1, Script
SO: we are working largely on four-panel pages, all the panels being page-wide, as this is what Declan likes. We’ve all been practising on MOON KNIGHT. Here we go.
We open on a large, old HOSPITAL building placed on a slight rise on moorland. A few stands of dead trees, fog, very early morning light in winter. We should be able to discern an archway in the middle of the building’s frontage. But, you know, we’re really talking about a gothic building on a moor.
TEXT There’s not much left of Maria.
On that archway, beyond which is a courtyard in the middle of the building. Either it’s a metal one that has the name of the hospital in it, or a stone one where the name of the hospital is incised in it. Your call. I’d go for the metal one, personally, seeing the name of the place against the sky. And it’s called SAWLUNG HOSPITAL.
CUT TO: MARIA KILBRIDE’S EYES.
Maria Kilbride is a willowy woman, tall, white, just past thirty, with a mane of curly auburn hair. Pale green eyes. Clothes tend to hang on her a bit, like the generic bathrobe/dressing-gown she currently wears, and the horrible pyjamas, and the slippers give her clown feet, too. These are clothes she’s been given at the hospital. We can see none of this, but I’m dropping it in now. Tired eyes.
Kilbride with her back to us, looking out a broad old window suffused with sepia sunrise. Standing with an NHS cane, one of the crappy metal-tubing ones. So pull back enough to at least get the top of the cane in shot. Atmosphere.
JORDIE: we’re at the top of a sequence for which my keywords were “sepia, cobwebby, yellowed.” Another way to go would be Wong Kar-Wai/Christopher Doyle – David-Lynch fritzing-fluorescents.
Also, DEC NOTE: thinking a lot about Wes Anderson, one-point perspective, centering characters in shots.
TEXT The wind from tomorrow is scouring her away.
CUT TO: KILBRIDE shuffling down a long hospital corridor with her cane, left to right across this wide panel. She’s not moving well.
TEXT The talons of the old world are reaching up out of the dirt for her ankles.
She passes a doorway. A male NURSE stands just inside the doorway, in the shadows. Dressed as a male nurse, sure, aside from the black rubber facemask and the long heavy black rubber gloves.
TEXT She can barely remember what hope and peace felt like.
Entering a CANTEEN area. One person sits alone in here, aside from the couple of nurses stationed on either side of the room (or something like that). That one person is CONTROL, a woman in her fifties, greying hair pulled back, in a thick and expensive coat, a cardboard folder on the table in front of her.
TEXT She dreams of those infinite childhood Augusts when she didn’t know anything and nothing was coming, and wakes up with cold in her bones.
CONTROL looks up, with a cool fake smile.
CONTROL Professor Kilbride.
(formatting is inexact, because newslettering system won’t transfer the dialogue tabs or the two different fonts I use - one for descripts, one for dialogue.)
(Also note: I lead with the physical descriptions because Declan has to draw them. We have, at this point, already discussed the characters and their personalities in email and phone calls, but I went straight to script rather than writing separate character descriptions pre-script.)