Screenplay / Kilimanjaro
Kilimanjaro – I’d give everything to get my life back
Scene 1. The hotel room
The scene takes place in Cape Town, South Africa. It is February and it is end of Spring brake. American students visiting the country are about to return home this day. The first ones the audience are introduced to are a gay couple Christopher Jayden Bicket, 17 and Robert Lawson, 19.
It is morning, approaching noon on the day of departure. Robert is standing by an open French window, watching the beautiful scenery of Cape Town. He is wearing white, sporty trousers and a white blouse which, like the veil-like curtains next to him, are caught up in the morning breeze of the ocean. He stands still watching. Chris stirs awake in the bed, opening one eye, resistant to the bright light he pulls himself to a half sitting position.
CHRIS:
What time is it? It can’t be noon yet, right.
Robert does not answer but keeps absorbing the scent of the wind and the sea. Chris falls back to bed and pulls the sheet over him.
CHRIS:
Close the window and come back to bed. It’s our last day here and I don’t want to waste a second. (With a more serious tone) Seriously, close the Goddamn window, it’s freezing in here.
ROBERT:
Do you feel like you could stay here forever?
CHRIS:
You I hate to go back. And I’m sorry we have to keep the engagement a secret, but I’ve told you like a hundred times that I’m not ready to tell my parents yet. The moment I graduate and can afford a place of my own, we’ll tell them.
ROBERT:
No, I mean this place, South Africa. I think that someday I’ll move down here. You know, I have never felt this calm and somehow peaceful before. I just love the sea.
CHRIS:
What about (Gets out of bed and walks to Robert and hugs him from behind.) if we move down here together after I graduate? We could buy a little villa the mountain slope and you could write and I could teach or something.
ROBERT:
Sounds perfect. (Chris gives him a kiss, he turns around and looks him in the eyes) But you know we can’t afford to live together without your parents help, let alone buy a house from Cape Town. I think it is best we face reality. With my successful career and your studies, we are a long way from a future together. The only way we can be together is if we tell your pa—
CHRIS: (Interrupts)
Let’s not talk about them now, please. We still have almost an entire day before I need to face them again. If we can’t come back here, then I say we make the best of it now that we are here. (Sits on the bed)
ROBERT:
It’s already half past twelve, we need to start packing.
(Gives Chris a kiss on the forehead and goes to bathroom.)
CHRIS:
Why do you have to be so freaking sensible all the time?
ROBERT:
One of us has to be, and as you’re obviously not going to… (Puts head through the doorway and looks in to the hotel room) Come on, start gathering your things. (goes back to the bathroom) We have to leave in like half an hour.
CHRIS: (Piling clothes on the bed from the closet)
So what if we get there a little late.
ROBERT:
You’ve got to be kidding. With our experience on American Airlines you wanna go there late. Hun, I thought you were supposed to be smart. We come there a second too late and we’ll miss the plane.
CHRIS:
And that would be bad because..?
ROBERT:
Because you have classes tomorrow morning and I need to go to another pointless meeting to flatter myself and my writings to people who think there is no life outside their precious suburbia. Remember the guy who asked me if I could give him driving instructions to Stonehenge someday. He thought it was a family attraction, like Six Flags or something.
CHRIS:
Fine. Let’s go home and be gym buddies again. It just feels so stupid as this is clearly what you and I both want. I just wish my parents could be normal. But no, they have to be the biggest fucking rednecks ever. I bet that if my mother gets one of grandma’s heart deceases, she will die the moment I tell them about us. I mean I don’t need them to be running around with feather-hats and rainbow flags, but they could at least accept the fact that there are other types of people too apart from their ‘Upper class America’ society. You should have seen them when a black woman ran after us, trying to return dads wallet. He was already ready to dial 911 and mum was searching her purse for teargas or something. I just wish for once I could make them see, that people are more than the stereotype block they have been born into.
ROBERT:
I’m sure if you would just tell them they would—
CHRIS: (Interrupting again)
Rob, just drop it. I know them. I know exactly what they’ll say and how they will react. I can’t afford to be on my own, just like you said, so we just have to keep it quiet.
ROBERT:
But are you sure they can’t change. You are their son and you know they love you. They love you because you are their son and because of who you are.
CHRIS:
No, they love me for what they think and expect me to be. As long as I fill their qualifications for a trophy son and I smile in family photos they love me.
ROBERT:
What ever you say, hun.
(Silence falls on the two, and the scene is faded away with Chris lying across the bed, next to the open suitcase)
End of Scene 1.
—
Scene 2. The Dining Hall
The scene takes place in the dining hall of the same hotel. It is almost empty except for a group of loud youngsters taking advantage of their last free dinner. A black man, Dorian Young, 19 is sitting in a single table with an empty plate, with only leftovers of fried eggs and bacon. Dorian is wearing a white sweater and hanging from a simple gold chain is a golden crucifix. He sits quietly, his chin against his chest, as if sleeping. A waitress walks by and cleans a table behind him. When she comes to his table, she pauses and looks at him.
WAITRESS:
Sir, are you finished? Can I clean away the dishes?
(Dorian looks up as if waking from a dream. For a second it looks like he’s not aware of his surroundings. Quickly he comes around)
DORIAN:
Su-Sure. Yes, thank you. Could I get a glass of juice?
WAITRESS:
Sure. We’re closing in about five minutes, but I’ll get you some juice.
(She smiles and he forces himself to smile back)
Freshly squeezed? (He nods. She takes his plate and utensil and goes back to kitchen. Dorian lowers his head again and this time we here him mutter a prayer. He ends it with a quiet ‘Amen’ and searches his pocket for a flight ticket. He exams the ticket, checking the date and time. When the waitress returns with the juice, he puts the ticket back to his pocket and pulls out a small box. He takes a pill out of the box, puts the box away.)
WAITRESS:
Here you go. Freshly squeezed and with all the pulp I could manage to get out of the orange.
DORIAN:
Thank you. (He puts the pill in his mouth and takes it down with the juice. The waiter doesn’t resume cleaning but starts a conversation with him)
WAITRESS:
I noticed your flight coupon. You leaving today?
DORIAN:
Yes. (He does not talk much, but she is determined to keep on chatting)
WAITRESS:
So you flying off to the States.k I’d love to go there someday. See New York and the White House. Ooh, and Disneyland. (Whispers in like a secret or a code) But with the salary their paying me, I’ll be old as the sea before I get out of this craphole excuse my French. (They both fell silent and Dorian feels desperate to answer her.)
DORIAN:
You don’t like living here?
WAITRESS:
God, no! (Laughs out loud) This place is nothing but garbage. If Africa is the wasteland of the world, then Cape Town is the blender where all the human waste gathers and mixes only to make each other more miserable.
DORIAN:
I think the city is beautiful.
WAITRESS:
Well the parts they show to the tourists, sure. No offence. It’s like we deliberately keep a constant mask on to hide the flaws of our society because the rest of the world thinks we have been cured of the Apartheid. And God forbit if they would see the truth. Yes, the Apatheid have been gone for over ten years but it doesn’t mean that with them gone, all the illness and dirt would be washed away. I don’t think they caused everything that was wrong with this country. If you were one of those college-jocks, drinking booze and tearing the hotel apart, I think I might even steal your ticket to get away. (With a sly smile she adds) Don’t worry, I won’t.
DORIAN:
May I ask a personal question?
WAITRESS:
If it is nothing too kinky, sure.
DORIAN:
You’re wearing a cross. Do you believe in God?
(He looks at her expectantly, looking eager for the first time. She sits looking awkward for a while, before replying with uncertainty in her voice.)
WAITRESS:
I think so. At least I used to. I really don’t know nowadays. You know, there are so many bad things around, like with everything, that it strikes me hard to believe that there is someone with the power to make it all okay, who is not doing anything. I was born Christian, baptised and everything and it is part of me to do all that religious stuff. Mass and Christmas and things like that. But the older I get, the more they start to lose meaning, they become more of routines than something spiritual. I really can’t say. Depends on the day I guess.
DORIAN:
What about today? Do you believe in him today?
WAITRESS:
You know, I was expecting something like ‘Do you have a boyfriend’ or something, but you’re not that straightforward I guess.
DORIAN:
I’m sorry if I disappointed you, but I don’t think that would be too good an idea for me to ask you out. I’ll be joining a convention in about a year.
WAITRESS:
Wow. Is that like you gonna live the rest of your life as a monk? In celibacy and all that jazz?
DORIAN:
Precisely, all that jazz. (They both smile and Dorian drinks the rest of his juice.)
WAITRESS:
And don’t think about the dating thing, you’re too old for me anyway. I don’t date guys over 25. That’s a lesson I have learned the hard way. Though I wouldn’t have minded celebrating your last night here together. (She gives him a wink, and they smile again.)
DORIAN:
Thank you, I appreciate that. (A voice calls for the waitress; she stands up and checks her watch)
WAITRESS:
Gotta run, we’re closing. Have a safe trip home and maybe we will bump to each other some day.
DORIAN:
Thank you. And thanks for the food and the hotel and everything. I really loved this place. And by the way, I’m 19.
(The waitresses eyes grow large and she tries to hide her embarrassment. She gives him an awkward smile and leaves, forgetting to take his empty glass with her. He gets up, pulls a ten dollar bill from his pocket and puts it under the glass.)
DORIAN: (mutters)
Oh, what the hell… (Pulls another bill and puts it on top of the other) It’s the brotherhoods money in a year anyway. (Dorian leaves the hall and calls up a taxi.)
End of Scene 2.
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WOW! i thought that was some very powerful writing. the detail was really intricate and i thought you developed the characters very well. I can say that I only spotted one or two punctuation or usage errors, but i can’t remember where they were. the story overpowered any mistakes you made, which were very few! your setting plans and dialog are very stunning and very artistically put. great job! im totally serious. keep it up!
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I hate to use the old cliche “It’s a good start”, but in this case, it is. I wouldn’t worry about the format, there are computer programs you can buy that will show exactly what you need to do. This genre has been done before, so you’re going to have to find a new twist to really grab a producers attention.
That said, I look forward to further installments. One final nugget, don’t let anyone discourage you, just keep moving forward. Good luck.
i like it. you play out the drama really nicely
I felt it was well written. The dialogue was also very well, and that’s usually the most difficult part of film.
As you mentioned, the format of the screenplay itself needs work, but I could see myself paying to see the eventual final film.
It’s too early to see if it’s critical-acclaim-worthy, but it’s got definite potential.
“you’re too old for me anyway. I don’t date guys over 25.” “And by the way, I’m 19.”
I got a chuckle over those two lines. I cannot wait to read some more of this.
You have a talent for natural dialogue.
And the overall key information is subtly, but clearly embedded within the text – you are a good ‘SHOWER’ NOT A ‘TELLER’ and that shows (!).
Overall, very good. Plus there is no wastage it seems to me, and you avoid melodrama, a big bonus because the last thing people need is some melodramatic gay-couple crap that has been heard a million times before.
I particularly like the blender metaphor – you obviously thought about it and it is clever without being forced.
Good luck.
Chris and Robert are really strong chracters. I felt as if I was in the room with them when I read your opening scene. We quickly get to know them in this scene and could only perhaps be brought out more by some minor adjustment of mentioned details. In truth I am very impressed with the way the dialogue is TEACHING us the characters while we watch them being together. It is nice, perhpas more than needed, but not for a drama.
Scene 2 does not work as well for me. I know you don’t want any grammar help so I will restrain myself from commenting on the multiple errors; however, you must look at the line with the word “convention” which you obviously meant as convent but in truth I believe a convent is only for nuns and not monks. I believe that is a monastery, but what do I know about Catholics.
Now scene 2 has potential as the characters seem amicable and real, but it didn’t do as much in scene 1 to make me want to watch. Think over 2 and ask yourself what is missing because honestly I can only say that this seems like a throw away more than a character builder.
www.siminoe.com
All in all a decent two scenes, and quite an impressive attempt at something potentially complex. A few historical references give this some authenticity and an air of experience., but the numerous grammar and spelling errors made for a difficult read. Also present are some questionable vernacular that I am not sure locals of South Africa would use, especially since their accent and dialect is similar to an Australian colony.
I will save you the credits by allowing you your disclaimer and not correcting anything, but I have done my job and addressed it. Now, for the latter comment, I am not convinced that the waitress is a true local. She speaks of Cape Town with an intimate disdain but her descriptions are characteristically American as well as her use of sarcasm. (craphole for instance doesn’t seem to fit).
The two male leads are believable and not overwhelming (though there were times when I felt their dialogue was too long), and their relationship is a solid foundation for the multitude of drama that will inevitably surround them.
Accordingly I think you have an interesting concept and I am looking forward to more progress.
The screen play is written relatively good so far as stage directions go,and I like the characters to. Just go back and fix some of the punctuation andspelling.
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