Simon's Story

Tim Brosnan ("Simon") got to see some of his work tonight in the edit suite...he seemed pleased with it.

It's hard to watch yourself act on camera. Many actors refuse to do so, and I think Tim is one of those who prefer not to.

But I am insistent. Tim has good taste. It's helpful to hear what he thinks.

When I see the film now, it always strikes me how much the story is Simon's. That was something we were never quite sure of when we were writing, rehearsing and shooting. But the story wins. It's Simon's tale.

SCENE 9 \ "CRACK OF DAWN"

INT/EXT The Motel Room

Simon chats absently on the phone, as he stares out of the motel room window, across the nearly barren parking lot.

“Are we still talking about a deal? This is starting to sound like a date.”

He starts when he notices Brooklyn walking across the parking lot with a man twice her age.

“Hey, look…I gotta run…I’ll call you back.”

Blam-blam-blam! A sudden knock on the motel room door.

Simon cracks the door and see the waitress, Dawn, standing there.

“What even happened last night, I mean…god, did we do that?”

Simon and Dawn talk in the doorway. She’d rather come in, though. He is far more interested in where Brooklyn is going, and with whom, but doesn’t say that.

Soon, they are making out on his bed, though the passion fizzles abruptly when she notices that Brooklyn’s things are gone.

“What happened to your daughter?”

“I don’t…she…I just saw her walking across the parking lot with some guy in a red cap.”

FIRST LOOK!

This is TAKEN IN.

Or at least, this is what it looks like on a Final Cut Pro timeline.

The picture edit is complete, and a DVD draft has been sent to Josh McGill in Dallas for scoring. A few people have seen the full locked-picture cut (Jeter and I...Emily, her brother Dan), and a couple have seen the very end of the film (Colin, Maddi and her roommate Alex, Tim).

There are a few problems. Most have to do with just how much exposition, or back story, we release to the audience. At present...there is almost none. Just...story happening. I wonder how much our audience needs to know, setup-wise, to commit to taking the ride with us. Most movies explain everything. And most of the time, they do a clever job at this.

Not sure if this film can stand up straight with as little as we're giving.

Q&A with Co-Writer EMILY REACH WHITE

CHRIS WHITE: Emily Reach White…co-writer for TAKEN IN (and my wife!)…what was the first piece of writing you and I collaborated on?

EMILY REACH WHITE: I'm not really sure -- but I think that would have to be The Weekly Communicator -- a faux (Onion-style) public high school newsletter. We wrote fake articles to each other via email to maintain our sanity when we were teaching. I think I mostly wrote fake articles to you, but I remember a couple of your contributions -- and you're the one who did the layout.

Since then, we've done some more serious projects together. Since September we've done two student films for Wade Hampton High School (Vent and No Substitute), a short film (Good Life), a one-act play for the Carlbrook School (Can't Stay Here), a 10-minute play for a 24-hour play festival (Neo-Maxi-Zoom-Dweebie), and, of course, Taken In. Wow -- that's a lot.

CW: What parts of this story do you feel most responsible for...most proud to have written?

ERW: Well, you wrote most of this story. And much of this film was improvised. But I feel indirectly responsible for all of it because I think I help you see things, think things, in new ways. As any good partner does. I worked more as the story editor and sounding board for this particular project. And I wrote the last two lines . . . but the way the story has unfolded, I'm not sure we're going to be able to use them. I'm not sure that they make sense anymore.

Still -- I think I'm responsible for much of the feel and the tone and the arc of the story. I'm good at bringing ideas full circle -- and, as a Literature Ph.D., I'm good at telling you what your writing is doing. Making sure that it's doing what you think it's doing . . . what you want it to do. And I'm proud of all of that.

CW: What’s the best part of making a movie at South of the Border?

ERW: Definitely the people. And the trinket store.

CW: What was the funniest thing that happened during the shoot?

ERW: Jennifer [Baxley, Producer] and I were grilling hamburgers for the cast and crew back at the campground, and a cop came to make sure everything was OK. That's all I can say.

CW: As a writer, is it strange to see actors portraying situations...speaking words that you just made up one day? How does that compare to writing narrative fiction...a story someone reads?

ERW: It is strange -- especially when the actors take your words in ways you maybe didn't intend or go in directions you hadn't thought of. A lot of people say that words are ineffectual and inaccurate. And they'd point to this type of always-present latent ambiguity as proof of the limited nature of words -- they'd say that we can never really communicate what we intend. But I think it proves exactly the opposite -- the fact that the actors can read my words in ways I never imagined, and the story still works -- I think that proves that words are pinpoint accurate, layered, and incredibly powerful.

CW: What do we do next?!

ERW: We keep living, loving each other and the kids, and making friends. I keep working on my Ph.D. and writing, you keep making movies and plays. And we find ways for our work to overlap as often as possible.

REVISED ON LOCATION

Scene 12, as originally conceived, was to be an exterior. Instead, it was shot inside of an arcade due to wet weather. As well, sound man Brian Fellers's Camaro was way cooler than the pick-up truck I'd originally conceived for Dillon.

Brooklyn leans on a weatherworn bust of a sombrero-wearing man the size of a compact car. She smokes a cigarette, thinks. She is sad.

Soon, a rusty Chevy pick-up truck pulls up alongside. It is Dillon. But he’s not wearing a ball cap anymore. He’s had a shower.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You still wanna go out?”

“I guess.”

“We don’t have to.”

“No, I…I want to.”

“I mean…it’s looking like the pending nuptials have been put on permanent hold. I’d understand if you felt the need to bow out gracefully.”

Brooklyn smiles kindly.

“You have such a romantic streak, Dillon. I can’t believe you’ve never been married.”

“I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

Touched, she looks back toward the motel…shimmering in the cold night’s air. She skips around to the passenger side of Dillon’s truck, gets in. They drive away.

PRODUCTION MEETING #2

We have a screenplay.

Sorta.

At Sunday's Production Meeting most of the cast (minus Traysie Amick who was on assignment with the South Carolina Children's Theatre) gathered for a first "table read" of TAKEN IN.

The script is only ten pages long...about a tenth the length of most feature-length screenplays. But rest assured. There's a whole lot of story packed into those ten pages!

Also...

Just prior to Sunday's Production Meeting, lead actors Tim and Maddi spent an hour (via Skype) with Andy Coe, Dean of Students at Carlbrook School in Halifax, Virginia.

This was an invaluable experience as the actors learned about therapeutic boarding schools; the students who go to such institutions and their parents. The film's plot turns on many of the issues these families face.

Andy has made himself available to us as a special advisor to the project. And we couldn't be more grateful.

MEETING DILLON

Now fully dressed, Brooklyn leans on the chain-link fence bordering the carnival area, watching the maintenance man work on the rides.

Soon, he notices her standing there, puts down his socket wrench and walks over to her.

“Rides are closed for the season.”

“I figured.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Can I watch you work?”

Brooklyn sits, cross-legged next to the maintenance guy, Dillon.

“You in school?” he asks.

Brooklyn explains that she is on what is known as on a ‘regional visit’ from the therapeutic boarding school she attends. She and her father are supposed to spend an entire weekend together…for her therapy.

“How’s it going?”

“Swimmingly.”

Dillon gives her a thorough walking tour of the park, explaining how each ride works…and the story behind them.

“The idea with this one is that it’s a big, long Tequila worm, running around in a circle. That’s why they call it Wormloco.”

She nods.

“Kids seem to like it, though.”

Dillon asks Brooklyn why she got sent away. She explains that she sold a tiny yellow Hello Kitty tablet to a barefoot girl in a peasant dress at an Iron and Wine concert in Atlanta.

“Sometimes true southern hospitality looks like felony drug possession…especially when you sell Ecstasy to an undercover cop.”

Dillon just shakes his head: “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Anyway. I’ve been at this school for three or four months now…can’t really remember. You lose track of the days.”

Dillon kisses her, then says, “Marry me.”

Brooklyn doesn’t miss a beat. “Sure.”