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In one sentence, write a DRAMATIC logline for your film or film script.
AND THE WINNER IS...
for her logline
"A police officer born to a serial killer must tap into his demons to hunt a copycat of his father's horrific crimes."
The winning entry has won for its writer a free place in one of Stoneking's one-day drama seminars (Value $90). May be redemned at any one-day seminar between 2011 and 2016
Thanks to all the writers who entered a scene in the first MAKE A SCENE competition.
As we only had 13 entries this time around, I have decided to publish only the winning the entry. It was written by a very talented filmmaker from Italy (currently based in Sydney) by the name of Luca De Simone. Luca is a graduate of the International Film School, Sydney, a writer/director, currently working on a feature script.
Film people wishing to connect with Luca can do so via email or mobile (see below)
T H E W I N N I N G E N T R Y
by Luca DS / Gianluca De Simone - 2011
email@example.com Mobile: 0405 306 294
INT. STAIRS - NIGHT
GRACE, late-twenties, slowly steps down a dark flight ofstairs helping herself with a cane. She comes to a closed door from which muffled music and voices can be heard.
She looks back at HELEN, 65, short gray hair and a worried look in her eyes, who stands in the door-frame at the top of the stairs. Helen exits the frame.
Grace turns to the door and knocks. No answer.
She turns the handle and enters into -
INT. THE BASEMENT - NIGHT
A blur of white noise.
Two old TV sets on top of each other show respectively the daily news and a black and white western movie at full volume.
A radio against the wall blasts out an entertainment program punctuated by fake laughter.
An unseen alarm is beeping monotonously the wake-up call.
The screen-saver cycle of a desktop computer shows a farmhouse continually wiped out by a tornado.
DANNY, mid-thirties, cuts drum&bass music on his laptop in a corner of the room, facing the wall.
Grace takes the scene in.
Leaning on her walking stick, she steps to the televisions and turns them off.
(without looking up)
She goes to the radio and turns it off.
He turns around and sees Grace.
Can you stop it? Can you just stop that?
Danny pauses the music on the laptop and turns around on his swivel chair.
I learned how to play with one.
His right arm is amputated just above the elbow, and the right side of his face has something strange in it,asymmetrical.
Your mother asked me to come and
talk to you. I don’t think it’s a
He gets up and starts whistling a tune. He goes to a sink and fills a dirty glass with water. He seems very focused on whistling the tune right.
She would like you to come along
Danny swallows a pill with the water and puts down the glass. Still whistling, he goes to a folding bed in a corner of the basement and grabs the alarm clock from under the mattress.
You know what day it is tomorrow?
Danny keeps on fiddling with the alarm without being able to turn it off.
It’s been a year -
Danny hurls the alarm clock, that shatters against the wall behind Grace.
He starts whistling again.
Grace stays still for a moment, then she turns around and limps to the door.
She turns around to face him.
How are you doing, Grace? I mean,
how are you doing?
She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t seem to be doing great.
Cause you look good. You look
alright. Good on you. Why not? What
do you want from me?
I don’t give a damn about you. I
just came because - I think he
would have liked you there. If he’s
But he’s not somewhere, is he?
Where do you think he is, somewhere
in the universe? His atoms
dispersed and bound to come back in
eternal recurrence? There’s
nothing, Grace. Nothing. This is
He points at his stumpy arm.
This is real.
He points at the cane she’s leaning on.
It’s not something else.
He walks around the room and suddenly head-butts a corner of the wall.
He head-butts the wall again.
Grace startles but doesn’t try to stop him.
Danny, bleeding from a cut on his forehead, looks at her with a smirk.
Don’t you see we’re only alive out
No, not me.
Have you got a better alternative?
You just... got over it?
She limps to the TV-sets and turns them on. She heads toward the door. Passing in front of him, she stops for a moment. Her words are covered by the TV noise but still intelligible.
It’s not you, Danny. It’s just not
about you anymore.
She tries to stroke his face, but he turns away and steps over to sit at the laptop.
Loud music blasts off the speakers.
Grace gives him a last look and exits the room.