A question a lot of critics get after tearing a film apart is "Could you do any better?" This generally doesn't get a response, for two reasons. The person asking generally doesn't want an answer, and more often than not, that answer is "No." The ability to write about fiction generally doesn't translate into writing fiction itself, there are a lot of film critics that took up the trade because they stalled on the road to becoming film makers. I'd like to think that I'm a pretty good critic, most people I've gotten feedback from seem to think so, but I've never really tried to write fiction before, until now.
Over the past few months, I've been working on a screenplay with a friend (who requested that I not use their name), and I wanted to put part of it up here to get some feedback and know whether I am one of those critics, and the result was A Floridian Holiday. What we've done is search various news outlets for bizarre stories, weird circumstances, and generally all manner of strangeness, and take inspiration from them to write a comedy. We didn't know whether we'd finish it, or if there would be any theme we were trying to get across, but if what we created resembled a working narrative, then we would consider it a success.
I know, this is generally a review site, and when I've done editorials they've been few and far between, but this is my site and I'll do what I want with it. If y'all want to see more, or have some feedback to give, please let us know in the comments or on social media. Without further ado, here is...
Cut back to the convenience store, where, slowly and dramatically, three young adults, a hipster, a man in a suit, and a geek rise out of the wreckage of a gas pump, hands above their heads, drenched in gasoline. The one in the suit steps forward to address the officers.
Smash cut to title card.
CUT TO; Exterior, mid air jumbo jet, three days earlier. Interior, coach section, where THE ARTIST, 21, the kind of person that would call themselves "The Artist" with a straight face, is stuck between a sleeping old man and a businessman typing furiously into a laptop. The Artist is staring into her smartphone when the PA system comes on...
Over the past few months, I've been working on a screenplay with a friend (who requested that I not use their name), and I wanted to put part of it up here to get some feedback and know whether I am one of those critics, and the result was A Floridian Holiday. What we've done is search various news outlets for bizarre stories, weird circumstances, and generally all manner of strangeness, and take inspiration from them to write a comedy. We didn't know whether we'd finish it, or if there would be any theme we were trying to get across, but if what we created resembled a working narrative, then we would consider it a success.
I know, this is generally a review site, and when I've done editorials they've been few and far between, but this is my site and I'll do what I want with it. If y'all want to see more, or have some feedback to give, please let us know in the comments or on social media. Without further ado, here is...
A Floridian Holiday
Written by Greg Byrne and A Friend
Inspired by the myriad tales of Radio Dead Air
Smash cut to exterior, Convenience Store, night. The building is surrounded by cop cars, lights flashing. The parking lot is sprayed with brightly colored paint, spent fireworks, spilled household chemicals, and several sets of discarded clothes.
Cut to one of the cop cars, where TWO OFFICERS get out and face the store, one of them has their sidearm drawn, the other pulls out a megaphone.
Officer One: (over the megaphone) Come out with your hands up! We have you surrounded!
Officer Two: (still broadcasting on the megaphone) You’re not supposed to say that yet; that’s not protocol-
Officer One: (loudly) Totally surrounded!
Man In A Suit: Officers! (beat) Believe it or not, there is an innocent explanation.
Hipster: (mumbling to herself) We are all going to jail.
Smash cut to title card.
CUT TO; Exterior, mid air jumbo jet, three days earlier. Interior, coach section, where THE ARTIST, 21, the kind of person that would call themselves "The Artist" with a straight face, is stuck between a sleeping old man and a businessman typing furiously into a laptop. The Artist is staring into her smartphone when the PA system comes on...
PA System: Attention all passengers, we will be landing at Miami International soon, please turn off your electronics.
Businessman: (groans petulantly, looking up from his laptop) Why?
PA System: Because they interfere with the plane's navigation systems, sir.
The old man nearly stirs from his slumber, and the Artist and the businessman jump in surprise, not expecting an answer, the businessman does not close his laptop.
Artist: (turns her head to look at the Businessman) You heard the man.
She puts away the smartphone as the Businessman glares in her direction, not quite believing what just happened.
Businessman: Did God just tell me to turn off my electronics?
The lights in the cabin briefly flicker as the plane encounters a patch of turbulence.
Artist: (with a smirk) Whatever floats your boat, buddy.
The Businessman turns away from the Artist and closes his laptop, in utter silence.
CUT TO; Interior, baggage carousel, two hours later, where CARLOS, a short, wiry man of 22, is waiting in the lobby with a pile of luggage taller than he is. There is a distinct electric energy to him, like the entire room is charged with static. The Artist walks by, spots him, and runs up to him
Artist/Carlos: Carlos!/Artist!
They bro hug, it is the most adorably twee thing you have ever seen. The Artist gestures towards the luggage mountain.
Artist: What's all this; you bring your whole life with you?
Carlos: Nah, just all the stuff you need to make it.
Artist: You brought the lab?
Carlos: It's spring break, I'm going to need all the help I can get.
Artist: (slightly bemused) It's spring break, which means you don't need all this for a week.
Carlos: You should have seen the TSA agent's face.
Artist: I'm sure it was lovely.
Carlos: (looks behind her towards the luggage carousel) So, what does your suitcase look like?
Artist: (shrugs) ...I don't have one?
Carlos: (looks at her, confused) We're here for a week, how did you not bring a suitcase?
Artist: I handed it to the airline staff at DFW, and I never saw it again; I'm just gonna roll with it.
Carlos: With no extra clothes, no chargers, no money-
Artist: I have my chargers on me, I'm not an idiot.
Carlos: Money?
Artist: Got it.
Carlos: Toothbrush?
Artist: I can get one.
Carlos: Books?
Artist: I have them downloaded, Mom.
Carlos: What are you going to do about clothes?
Artist: (claps him on the shoulder while gesturing toward the luggage mountain) You can grow me some.
Interior, lobby, cont.; The two start walking away from the baggage carousel through the lobby towards the door.
Carlos: Okay then, I doubt either of us can afford a rental car, so do we call up an Uber, or-
Their pockets ding, and they both pull out their phones at the same time. An onscreen popup reads "look for a guy with a big awesome sign"
Artist: It looks like Kevin sent someone.
Carlos: Of course he did.
CUT TO; Montage of the Miami skyline, pristine beaches, trendy downtown bars, pounding night clubs, etc. set to "Miami" by Will Smith.
CUT TO; Exterior, Miami International, day. The Artist and Carlos walk out of the building, carrying Carlos' equipment with them. They look across the parking lot, and find HANK, mid-late 30s, is holding a sign reading "Carlos and the Artist", which is decorated much like someone gave a kindergartner unlimited art supplies and caffeine.
Artist: Hi, I'm guessing you're Kevin's friend?
Hank: That I am. And you two are Carlos and (checks sign)..the Artist?
Artist: That's us.
That is the start of A Floridian Holiday. Do you want to see more? Have any comments, questions, concerns? Leave them in the comments or on social media.
Have a nice day.
Greg.B
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