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This is the screenplay for a video short I made in the summer of 1996.
Black.
Fade up: The structures of Castle Frank bridge sliding past laterally.
Dissolve: The Sheriff rides the subway, the bridge passing outside.
Dissolve: Forward view as the train passes from the bridge into darkness.
Superimpose: A movie by / un film de Matthew
Fade up: Sheriff rides a streetcar.
Dissolve: Sheriff walks toward the frame as the streetcar slides away behind.
Cut to black.
Superimpose: Gabereau is Flirting
The following monologue -- audible over the background sound of 'Gabereau' with Vicky Gabereau on CBC radio -- is delivered over the above images:
SHERIFF: Time is wet. Time is tied to place. I have never been in two times twice so I never have the same face. The things I thought yesterday were thought by someone else. The only peace I know is my anchor or consonance: no matter where I am, and no matter where I go, Gabereau is flirting.
The Sheriff walks down the street as we gently glide behind, hearing nothing but her steady footfalls on the concrete. It is a lovely day.
Cut: we see that handcuffs hang at her side.
Cut: we continue to follow her.
Cut: we see that she has a plastic gun.
Cut: we continue to follow her.
Cut: we see that she has a golden badge marked 'Sheriff.'
Cut: we continue to follow her as she turns into a driveway where a Jaguar is parked; she continues around the back of the house and arrives at a door. She knocks abruptly four times.
Pause.
Cut: we see the backyard, still in the sunshine. Wind chimes jingle.
Cut: she turns her attention back to the door, and knocks again. The door opens slightly, and we see Cassandra shadowed inside.
SHERIFF: Is this the residence of Kenny Baxter?
CASS: Yeah.
SHERIFF: Are you Mrs Baxter?
CASS: More or less.
SHERIFF: I see.
Cut: we see the Sheriff from over Cassandra's shoulder.
CASS: Ken's not home. Come back later.
SHERIFF: If it's all the same ma'am, I'd rather wait.
CASS: Would you?
SHERIFF: Is that alright?
Cut: close-up on Cassandra.
CASS: I'd really rather you didn't, actually
She glances down. Cut: the 'Sheriff' badge. A bell tolls. Cut back.
CASS: Is he in some kind of trouble?
Cut: close-up on Sheriff.
SHERIFF: No trouble ma'am. I just have to ask Mr Baxter a few simple questions.
Dissolve: tracking shot from fore as the Sheriff and Cassandra descend into the dark flat; as we pull back further into the main room we see that it is cluttered and messy.
SHERIFF: Has there been some kind of incident here, ma'am?
Cut: medium close-up of Cassandra lighting up a cigarette.
CASS: Several. Care for a drink?
Angle shifts to focus on the Sheriff in the background.
SHERIFF: No thank you, ma'am.
Cassandra pours herself a drink and sits back, smoking and eying the sheriff.
Cut: a close-up of the Sheriff's eyes as she scans the room. We cut to a large poster saying only 'PICT' and an arrangement of words across an alcove saying 'File Edit Label View Special.' Cut: the Sheriff's eyes shift foreward.
SHERIFF: Do you mind if I ask you a few questions, Mrs Baxter?
Cut: a medium shot of Cassandra and the Sheriff seated.
CASS: My name's Cassandra.
SHERIFF: Mine too.
CASS: And I always thought I was the only one...
The sheriff opens her notebook and touches her pencil to the end of her tongue.
SHERIFF: How long have you known Mr Baxter?
CASS: Five months. I met him in Halifax.
Cut: a long-shot of Halifax harbour.
Cut: a medium-shot of the Sheriff.
SHERIFF: Nova Scotia, ma'am?
Cut: a close-shot of Cassandra.
CASS: That's the one, yeah.
Cut: a medium-shot of the Sheriff. She finishes making a note.
SHERIFF: May I ask what was your business in Halifax?
CASS: I was studying Newspaper Repair at Dalhousie.
SHERIFF: Mmm-hmmm. And are you currently employed in the Newspaper Repair industry?
Cut: a medium-shot of Cassandra.
CASS: No. I gave it up.
Cut: a medium-shot of the Sheriff.
SHERIFF: What is your current employment?
Cut: a close-up of Cassandra; she turns into the light, exhales smoke.
CASS: I'm in the drag queen industry.
SHERIFF: Are you trained?
CASS: No, I'm a self-made woman.
Cut: a medium shot of Cassandra and the Sheriff.
SHERIFF: How did you meet Mr Baxter?
CASS: Ken came out of nowhere and started telling me about the thinking machines. You know them?
SHERIFF: I've heard of them.
CASS: He said the thinking machines would make my studies moot.
Cut to a medium shot of the Sheriff.
SHERIFF: Moot?
Cut to a medium shot of Cassandra.
CASS: Moot.
Cut to a medium shot of the Sheriff.
SHERIFF: Can you spell that?
Cut to Cassandra.
CASS: Barely.
Cut to the Sheriff.
SHERIFF: M-O-O-T?
Cut to Cassandra.
CASS: M-U umlaut-T.
Cut to the Sheriff.
SHERIFF: I see. Go on.
Cut: we are looking at the side of Citadel Hill in Halifax by the trees. Cassandra is sitting while Ken paces around her.
KEN: ...Forgive me this anachronism but it flows better to the ear: you must understand that man makes machine in his own image. When sons and daughters emulate their parents, it's adorable; and so why should man not strive to emulate God? Delinquent as machines may be, they are our children. Machines are more than tools, they are our dearest expression of life!
Dissolve: the view from a car of the streets of Halifax.
Dissolve: the passing structures of MacDonald bridge from below.
Dissolve: Halifax passing behind the car through the bridge.
Dissolve: Toronto as seen from the Gardiner Expressway.
Over these images Cassandra speaks:
CASS: So Ken and I got in the car and drove to the GTA, where the thinking machines were the most shiny and the internet connexions never busy, hearkening the coming of the fabled cable modem.
Cut: medium shot of the Sheriff and Cassandra.
SHERIFF: Sounds exciting.
CASS: We were young and foolish, I guess...
Cut: Cassandra and Ken are in a bar.
CASS (voice over): ...we were in love. We talked about what we could be if we tried. I told him I wanted to become a real woman.
KEN: Cassandra my love, you are a real woman, crippled inside a body you didn't make. We have to let you out.
CASS: We have to let me out.
Dissolve: A computer image of a female body being designed.
Cut: Ken is using the computer while Cassandra watches and smokes.
CASS (voice over): Ken helped me redesign myself. We were the parents and patrons of the machina analytica and basked in its infinitely beautiful calculations.
Cut: a medium shot of the Sheriff.
SHERIFF: It's a romantic idea. Don't blame yourself.
Cut: a medium shot of Cassandra.
CASS: I don't, honey, don't worry.
She lights a smoke.
The following sequence will be edited into a series of quick, moving cuts, rendering the lines a sound-byte staccato (you know?):
Ken and Cassandra ride the subway.
CASS: I am concentrating on honing my skills for the future. I've been trying to teach myself how to open canned goods using only my teeth. This way, when Western civilisation falls and I'm spending my time hunting for something to eat, I won't have to worry about an opener when I finally find that battered can of Campbelle's Cream of Mushroom soup buried under a pile of rubble. I'll be self-sufficient.
Transition: Cassandra, in a red-skied apocalyptic wasteland, considers a can of the aforementioned soup.
Transition: the subway sequence
CASS: It'll be hard to get by on good-looks after the apocalypse, believe you me.
KEN: Computers.
PUBLIC ADDRESS: Ninety-nine Yonge, ninety-nine Yonge.
Ninety-nine Yonge, please call control.
Cut: a close shot of the Sheriff.
SHERIFF: Mrs Baxter -- Cassandra -- where is Ken?
Cut to Cassandra. She takes a deep drag.
CASS: Last week Ken decided to evolve into silicon-based life.
Cut: Ken paces through the flat before Cassandra, wearing a white jumpsuit and apparently getting organised.
KEN: Each machine is as virginal as Mother Mary, incapable of malice or greed or lust. Monks meditate for years to come to a point of pure thoughts, but each machine is in nirvana from the moment it awakes!
CASS: Life -- it seems -- is some gritty cartoon. Life -- it seems -- is a long European movie with six to eight hour intermissions.
She looks up at Ken.
CASS: You look like some kind of goddamn cosmonaut, darling.
KEN: I'm a cybernaut.
CASS: Oh Kenny, that's just so ninety-two.
Cut to a medium shot of Cassandra and the Sheriff.
CASS: And so he did. He's only binary now, hon.
Pause.
SHERIFF: May I see?
CASS: Yeah.
Dissolve: Ken sits before a bank of computers.
Cut: a close-up of the screen: Evolve to silicon-based life? Cancel/OK The cursor appears and settles on 'Ok.' Cut to Ken's finger clicking the mouse. Cut to the screen: Insufficient RAM.
Cut: Cassandra and the Sheriff stand and walk out of the main room.
Cut: Ken at the console. Cut to a close up of the screen as he activates virtual memory.
Cut: Cassandra and the Sheriff pass through a corridor.
Cut: a close-up of the first dialogue box offering Ken his evolution option. Cut to a close-up of Ken's eyes.
Cut: Cassandra and the Sheriff enter the study.
Cut: Ken's finger clicks the mouse.
The squeal of data waxes and roars. Cut through computer effects sequence of Ken's mind translating to the binary.
Cut: Cassandra and the Sheriff stand before the prone and integrated body of Ken, attached to the computer. Cut: a close-up of the Sheriff.
SHERIFF: Good God.
Cut to a close up of Cassandra.
CASS: Yeah. Do you want to talk with him?
SHERIFF: If I could, ma'am.
CASS: Just boot the Baxter programme.
SHERIFF: Right.
Dissolve: the Sheriff is sitting before the computer. She moves the mouse.
Cut: we see the screen, and an icon called 'Baxter', upon which she clicks.
Cut: the Sheriff's eyes.
Cut: we see the screen, and the Baxter programme boots up.
Cut: the Sheriff's mouth, biting her lip for a moment.
Cut: Cassandra is in the main room smoking a cigarette and drinking.
Cut: the Sheriff sits before the screen.
In the following sequence, Ken's voice issues from the computer, sounding somewhat the electronic.
KEN: Who's there?
SHERIFF: It's the law.
KEN: Constable Cassandra? Is that you?
SHERIFF: It's me, Bax. How're you doing?
KEN: It's strange in here.
SHERIFF: You've sounded better.
KEN: I'm only speaking at sixteen bits to conserve memory.
SHERIFF: Of course.
KEN: Nothing is how I expected.
SHERIFF: Nothing ever is.
KEN: Cass?
SHERIFF: Yes?
KEN: I'm scared.
Pause.
SHERIFF: Hold on a moment, Bax -- I'll be right back.
Dissolve: the Sheriff takes two pieces of torn newspaper out of her pocket, and fondles them for a moment. Cut to her eyes.
Cut: the Sheriff walks into the main room, offering the scraps to Cassandra, who is drying her tears.
SHERIFF: Ma'am, I seem to be having some trouble with my papers here. Do you think you could lend me a hand?
Cut to a close-up of Cassandra.
CASS: ...Yeah, sure thing, constable.
Cut: the Sheriff turns on the stereo.
STEREO: This is CBC Radio: Canada's Public Broadcaster...
The Sheriff is drawing a cable out from the stereo; she attaches it to the computer.
Cut: Cassandra is methodically taping together the fragments of newsprint.
Cut: a medium shot of the Sheriff watching the body of Ken. Cut to Cassandra reparing the newspaper. Cut to the sound waves on the screen. It is 'Gabreau' with Vicky Gabereau, 2.05 in most of the country and 2.35 in Newfoundland.
Dissolve: the Sheriff walks as we track beside her; she is listening to headphones.
Cut: a close shot of her hip as she cocks her gun.
Cut: the Sheriff walks into the sunset toward the towering skyscrapers of Toronto.
SHERIFF (voice over): The walls are wet. No place is the place it once was, and the time is always counting higher as we slide sideways across it. My feet may never touch the ground, and the needle follows north as it turns; there may be no up or down, or right and wrong, but Gabereau is flirting.
Cut to black.
End titles.
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