Thanks for any help!
Log: "Suffering from PTSD, a young veteran reenlists in an attempt to leave his depressed hometown, but when a past love and her troubled teenage brother need his help, he must decide whether to return to his adopted home -the army, or stay in the Rust Belt and invest his future in friends and family."
*the logline could use some work so if anyone has any suggestions.
This is my first(ish) draft from my first screenplay. Been having a blast writing it, but I know it's raw so I welcome any feedback (good or bad), thanks!
INT. RICKY'S BEDROOM - DAY
Train stencils circle the wall, a race car comforter covers
the bed.
RICKY LAWSON, early twenties, all-American boy handsome,
sits at his computer desk. His under-shirt reveals dog tags
hanging around his neck. A shoulder tattoo of two crossing
swords reads 10TH MOUNTAIN DIVISION.
The computer screen reads WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT THE
POSITION OF JANITOR HAS BEEN FILLED.
Ricky opens a desk drawer and pulls out a bottle of
vodka.Knocks down a shot.He takes an empty bottled-water and
pours vodka in. He sets the vodka down in front of a framed
photo of Ricky and another soldier laughing in their bunk.
Dog tags hang over the frame.
INT. KITCHEN - DAY
BETH LAWSON, mid-forties, dressed in clearance-rack business
casual, sits at the table of her cramped kitchen pouring
over bills.
Her brow furrows when Ricky enters with the vodka filled
water-bottle.
RICKY
Good morning mom.
BETH
It was Ricky, thanks, but the
afternoon is off to a rocky start.
Ricky looks to the clock to see that it is 1 pm.
A newspapers opened at his chair. Several jobs yellow
highlighted in the general labor section.
BETH
Have you tried Chrysler yet?
RICKY
They moved that plant to Mexico a
year ago.
BETH
I know but I heard they're hiring
temps to take down the machinery...
Big Mart's hiring.
RICKY
Do I have to wear the yellow vest?
BETH
You have to do something. And it's
a uniform honey, every adult wears
one.
It came off harsher than she intended. She's kisses the top of
his head to soften the blow.
BETH
Today's your day honey.
INT. BIG MART - OFFICE - DAY
Ricky, classed up with a short sleeve shirt and crooked tie,
sits at the edge of a plastic chair.
Hunkered over the fold out table across from him is HENRY,
mid forties, potbelly, and un-ironic mustache.
Above him hangs a yellow vest "retired" in glass.
HENRY
You don't have any issues do you?
RICKY
Issues?
HENRY
You know, like any of those
episodes. You aren't gonna start
talking to yourself or humping
boxes or any other bizarre
shenanigans?
RICKY
I assure you sir if I hump a box it
will be out of customer site.
Although isn't that how little
boxes are made?
Henry makes no reaction to the joke.
HENRY
You working currently?
RICKY
No.
HENRY
Tough economy. What about drugs?
Are you a dope fiend?
RICKY
Drugs? Not now. Uh, I mean no.
HENRY
Don't pull my leg on this one. I
know you millennials like to shove
pills up your rectums.
RICKY
I'm old school sir, just drinking.
HENRY
I like the cut of your jib. So I
see here your local?
RICKY
Born and raised.
HENRY
Good. So I like you Rob, but you're
light on experience. A forklift and
a Humvee aren't the same thing.
Ricky laughs. Stops when he realizes Henry is not joking.
RICKY
Well, I'm a hard worker sir- -
HENRY
I like you Richie. But I got a lot
of interviews and I'm not gonna
bull-corn you dude. You're probably
not going to get this job. In fact,
we most likely won't even give you
the good-darn courtesy of letting
you know. HR will just let you hang
out there like a dingle-berry.
RICKY
Well, I appreciate that blunt and
deadly descriptive honesty. But I'm
ready to work sir. Holidays are
coming up so I'd be interested in
seasonal.
Ricky pauses, searching for the words to emphasize how bad
he needs this. But all that comes out is-
RICKY
I really, really need a job.
HENRY
I really, really like that answer.
We'll let you know Ray.
RICKY
Um, its Rick.
HENRY
You better believe it.
EXT. EASTWOOD LIQUOR STORE - ALLEY - NIGHT
Two men huddle among the rusted dumpster and graffiti soaked
walls. It's the type of place junkies and whores go to die.
The taller one is CHUCK, late twenties, sporting a buzz cut,
gold chain, and chin strap beard. This wolf comes as a wolf.
The shorter one is DANNY, sixteen, baby face.
Chuck extends a syringe.
CHUCK
Get on with it already.
DANNY
I'm not sure Chuck.
CHUCK
Needles no different than smoke.
Besides, it's classier.
Danny hesitatingly pulls out a few bills. Chuck
unhesitatingly takes them out of his hand.
DANNY
Well, I'd hate to tarnish the
dignity of this situation.
CHUCK
That's the spirit.
Danny shoots up.
He plummets back against the cement wall.
DANNY
Age of the gods.
CHUCK
Hey, you bought a decent amount,
you mind if I draw from your stash?
Danny has no response, he's busy leaning.
Chuck takes this stoned silence as an admission of
acceptance.
He draws. He shoots. He scores.
Log: "Suffering from PTSD, a young veteran reenlists in an attempt to leave his depressed hometown, but when a past love and her troubled teenage brother need his help, he must decide whether to return to his adopted home -the army, or stay in the Rust Belt and invest his future in friends and family."
*the logline could use some work so if anyone has any suggestions.
This is my first(ish) draft from my first screenplay. Been having a blast writing it, but I know it's raw so I welcome any feedback (good or bad), thanks!
INT. RICKY'S BEDROOM - DAY
Train stencils circle the wall, a race car comforter covers
the bed.
RICKY LAWSON, early twenties, all-American boy handsome,
sits at his computer desk. His under-shirt reveals dog tags
hanging around his neck. A shoulder tattoo of two crossing
swords reads 10TH MOUNTAIN DIVISION.
The computer screen reads WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT THE
POSITION OF JANITOR HAS BEEN FILLED.
Ricky opens a desk drawer and pulls out a bottle of
vodka.Knocks down a shot.He takes an empty bottled-water and
pours vodka in. He sets the vodka down in front of a framed
photo of Ricky and another soldier laughing in their bunk.
Dog tags hang over the frame.
INT. KITCHEN - DAY
BETH LAWSON, mid-forties, dressed in clearance-rack business
casual, sits at the table of her cramped kitchen pouring
over bills.
Her brow furrows when Ricky enters with the vodka filled
water-bottle.
RICKY
Good morning mom.
BETH
It was Ricky, thanks, but the
afternoon is off to a rocky start.
Ricky looks to the clock to see that it is 1 pm.
A newspapers opened at his chair. Several jobs yellow
highlighted in the general labor section.
BETH
Have you tried Chrysler yet?
RICKY
They moved that plant to Mexico a
year ago.
BETH
I know but I heard they're hiring
temps to take down the machinery...
Big Mart's hiring.
RICKY
Do I have to wear the yellow vest?
BETH
You have to do something. And it's
a uniform honey, every adult wears
one.
It came off harsher than she intended. She's kisses the top of
his head to soften the blow.
BETH
Today's your day honey.
INT. BIG MART - OFFICE - DAY
Ricky, classed up with a short sleeve shirt and crooked tie,
sits at the edge of a plastic chair.
Hunkered over the fold out table across from him is HENRY,
mid forties, potbelly, and un-ironic mustache.
Above him hangs a yellow vest "retired" in glass.
HENRY
You don't have any issues do you?
RICKY
Issues?
HENRY
You know, like any of those
episodes. You aren't gonna start
talking to yourself or humping
boxes or any other bizarre
shenanigans?
RICKY
I assure you sir if I hump a box it
will be out of customer site.
Although isn't that how little
boxes are made?
Henry makes no reaction to the joke.
HENRY
You working currently?
RICKY
No.
HENRY
Tough economy. What about drugs?
Are you a dope fiend?
RICKY
Drugs? Not now. Uh, I mean no.
HENRY
Don't pull my leg on this one. I
know you millennials like to shove
pills up your rectums.
RICKY
I'm old school sir, just drinking.
HENRY
I like the cut of your jib. So I
see here your local?
RICKY
Born and raised.
HENRY
Good. So I like you Rob, but you're
light on experience. A forklift and
a Humvee aren't the same thing.
Ricky laughs. Stops when he realizes Henry is not joking.
RICKY
Well, I'm a hard worker sir- -
HENRY
I like you Richie. But I got a lot
of interviews and I'm not gonna
bull-corn you dude. You're probably
not going to get this job. In fact,
we most likely won't even give you
the good-darn courtesy of letting
you know. HR will just let you hang
out there like a dingle-berry.
RICKY
Well, I appreciate that blunt and
deadly descriptive honesty. But I'm
ready to work sir. Holidays are
coming up so I'd be interested in
seasonal.
Ricky pauses, searching for the words to emphasize how bad
he needs this. But all that comes out is-
RICKY
I really, really need a job.
HENRY
I really, really like that answer.
We'll let you know Ray.
RICKY
Um, its Rick.
HENRY
You better believe it.
EXT. EASTWOOD LIQUOR STORE - ALLEY - NIGHT
Two men huddle among the rusted dumpster and graffiti soaked
walls. It's the type of place junkies and whores go to die.
The taller one is CHUCK, late twenties, sporting a buzz cut,
gold chain, and chin strap beard. This wolf comes as a wolf.
The shorter one is DANNY, sixteen, baby face.
Chuck extends a syringe.
CHUCK
Get on with it already.
DANNY
I'm not sure Chuck.
CHUCK
Needles no different than smoke.
Besides, it's classier.
Danny hesitatingly pulls out a few bills. Chuck
unhesitatingly takes them out of his hand.
DANNY
Well, I'd hate to tarnish the
dignity of this situation.
CHUCK
That's the spirit.
Danny shoots up.
He plummets back against the cement wall.
DANNY
Age of the gods.
CHUCK
Hey, you bought a decent amount,
you mind if I draw from your stash?
Danny has no response, he's busy leaning.
Chuck takes this stoned silence as an admission of
acceptance.
He draws. He shoots. He scores.
