Idea for a Short Film

A retelling of a certain Allegory... with a different outcome.

We open much like the Two Minutes Hate, on a group of people in a theater, the light reflecting off their faces. These people, however, are pale, malnourished, wearing ragged clothing. A series of quick cuts shows them gnashing their teeth, balling their fists, yelling at the screen, which instructs them to hate a fictitious Enemy, and blame Him for their condition.

Meanwhile, we slowly push in on one person, clearly unconvinced. She frowns and shakes her head. She looks up and turns, following the wedge of light back to the projection booth. She squints, trying to make out a figure standing there—a mysterious, sinister silhouette in the window.

She informs the people around her, pointing back at the booth. But they will not look. They sneer at her. One of them even slaps her face.

But pretty soon, more and more people fall silent, frowning. We see their faces one by one, unconvinced by the ludicrous story being portrayed on the screen. More and more of them begin to look back over their shoulders.

The final few still yelling at the screen realize that everyone else has stopped, and fall into an embarrassed silence.

There is more than one silhouette now in the projection booth window, and hints of a panicked conversation going on there. More of the theater-goers begin to look back, and stand.

Eventually, all of them are standing, glaring at the projection booth.

The silhouette in the window bends and fiddles with something. The volume of the projected film becomes insanely loud.

But it's too late.

The people begin to move en masse up the aisles, toward the booth.

We hear now a panicked argument from the booth, which quickly devolves into a combative struggle. Gunshots ring out—the theater occupants are alarmed, but unhurt. It is the occupants of the projection booth offing each other, or perhaps themselves—they know what is coming. We see the blood spatter on the window. We hear their bodies hitting the floor.

The original skeptical woman pulls aside a curtain, revealing an exit door. She opens it, and a shaft of light pierces the darkness, revealing steps leading up into the light. The other theater-goers cover their eyes, but the woman sets her jaw and begins up the steps.

The rest squint and peak out the doorway, then follow, hesitantly.

They emerge from their underground bunker into a desert landscape with a brilliant blue sky they have never seen before.

People in a similar ragged state are exiting other bunkers, shielding their eyes against the brightness. We hear distant, muffled gunshots, mirroring the ones we have just witnessed.

Then… silence.

There is a gentle breeze, and warm sunlight—people touch their own skin as if trying to understand the sensation. Most of the pale, ragged prisoners are frightened, nearly overwhelmed by what they are seeing and feeling. A few even turn to flee back down the stairs.

But then our original prisoner breaks out in a huge, tearful grin and one by one, the others do the same. We see a closeup of one person’s hand making its way into another’s.

There are no spoken lines of dialogue, nor any need for them. Everything is evident from their expressions. Even though they have never seen each other before, there is a look of love and recognition. The future is uncertain, but the alternative was no future at all. This new reality, whatever fate it holds, is right.

Fade to credits.

---

If you enjoyed this post, someone else probably will, too. Click this button to share it:

YOU make Think for Yourself possible with your subscriptions. If you believe in the work being done here and want to show your support, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Or perhaps you know someone that would appreciate a gift sub:

Or, if a sub is too much commitment, consider a one-time donation:

Bitcoin Address:

3BRCXdECrTq1WHHz8jrztGCNwzKQyWsEUA

Follow me on the Socials:

• Twitter

• Notes

• Gettr