trees are people too

We are developing our scripts this week. The structure of our machinima means that we have four short sections, each with their own short VO outlining the story of that location. Thus, with only one and a half minutes to film our entire piece, we each have only 23 seconds each – not a lot of time to include extensive dialogue, so it will need to be short and concise, and as minimal as possible in order to translate successfully to the mobile medium. We must consider that people will be watching and listening to our machinima while on the move or in public, busy, noisy spaces (think on public transport, outside, public spaces) and so wont want to have to concentrate on complex, detailed audio.

My story, which takes place when our character is 30 years old, is about her life in the inner city. While the city is noisy, busy, crowded and urban, she is surprised by the isolation she feels in this space, one that is inhabited by so many others. She lives in an back alley in the city, and a poignant reminder of the lonliness experienced in the city is an abandoned bike that sits in her laneway, untouched for months. To her, it is a symbol of the disconnectedness of the city life, where neighbourhoods exist for years with no sense of community, no sense of belonging. This bike, left unclaimed to rust in the alley, is like a representation of an discarded dream, an abandoned childhood, a happier time when the street had a sense of community.

A voice over will outline this, but will need to be very concise to fit into the 23 seconds. It might go something like this:

“When I was thirty, I lived in an apartment in the city. The city was always busy, but I always felt like it was also lonely, isolated. No one in my street knew anyone else, and kept to their own concrete boxes.
One day, someone left their bicycle in my laneway. It sat there for weeks, slowly rusting, with no one to claim it. For months it sat there, like a lonely reminder of someone’s life, someone’s happier times.
No one in the neighbourhood ever claimed it. Everyone kept their eyes averted, minding their own business, secluding themselves behind closed doors, until one day the garbos collected it, another piece of trash discarded from someone’s life.”

This is too long, but I will refine it. A work in process!!