There’s this pen at work that I have become particularly fond of. It sits on the front counter among all the other generic pens and stands out as one of the ones you cannot misplace. It’s different from those other normal pens because this pen lights up. There’s a blue LED light I assume compacted into the tiny cylinder above all the ink, and because of this it has stayed on the front counter desk for weeks. Everyone knows that that pen is special, and that if it were to go missing it would be a shame for the entire workplace. Everyone took care when using it, and no one ever took it away from its home. That was until last week, when I arrived at work at 3pm on Thursday and couldn’t find the pen. I asked co-workers and my manager if they had seen it, but no one cared as much as I did to find this special light pen.

I don’t know why I was so attached to this pen, I guess because it was different I had impressed some kind of connection to it. But in the end it was just a pen, just a really fancy pen that lights up at the end. Hopefully the new owner loves that pen just as much as I did.

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This film would follow the journey of the pen. Going from production, or maybe when it was first bought and “owned” by someone, then the different owners it goes through. Like one day the first owner drops it at Uni, and another student sees the pen, and instead of throwing it our (or returning it like a good person) they keep it. This person then takes it to work at as a waiter at a restaurant. Then they encounter a small child that really likes it design, so they give it to the customer to please the paying parents. And so on and so forth until the pen eventually runs out of ink and becomes useless, and when that happens the pens finds its last home in a bin, no longer owned by anyone.

 

So I am a person who suffers from hayfever, and not only that but my entire household also has to go through the symptoms of runny noses and red eyes as well. My sister and I have this running joke that we wouldn’t be able to get through a day of spring without being blessed. It’s such a common thing in my household that we are desensitized to the condition now, but my new friends aren’t.

I was going through a difficult sneezing fit one day and a friend did the courteous thing of saying “Bless you” to me. I thanked him, but continued sneezing for another 2 minutes. He didn’t bless me again, but once it was done commented on how concerned he was for my health. Now after having a very vigorous sneezing fit I wasn’t particularly in my right head-space and tried making a joke, that in hindsight didn’t land very well. I turned to him and jokingly brushed it off, claiming that “Oh I don’t have hayfever, I’m just allergic to your bullshit.”

He had looked at me completely gobsmacked at what I had said, and when I realised he was genuinely concerned for me I apologized profusely and left to find some tissues. He was not impressed.

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This was going to be envisioned as a weird comedy, where the protagonist has constant hayfever. It could be a small comedic skit following the amount of awkward times they’ve interrupted conversations and had to be blessed for it. I just wanted to point out the ridiculousness of the custom of saying bless to someone who has sneezed is, especially since we don’t really do it for any other bodily function. Coughing, farting and burping are usually excused by the person producing them, but sneezing gets special treatment. So it could be just a parody of how many different situations you can get away with sneezing, but then reversed and then replace those situations with one of those other things our bodies do.

 

“I like your shirt”

I look up to see a woman walk up to a man sitting on a bench in a busy shopping centre. I have a clear view of this man, he’s sitting directly in front of me and repeats the same action of looking up from his phone. The woman places a small hand on his shoulder and then proceeds to continue on her way, most likely a day trip shopping for the latest fashion trends or a present for a close relative. I assume this because she holds two wrapped presents in her hand and some gold wrapping paper under her arm.

The man looks at his friend bewildered. He’s just been approached by a random stranger that has commented on his shirt. The shirt in question was a checkered pattern flannel, alternating between tones of green and black. It was buttoned all the way up, with the ends not tucked in.

There wasn’t anything particularly interesting about the shirt aside from possibly the colour, and the man seemed to think so too. His friend laughed at him, and made a joke at his expense, taking out his phone and requesting him to model his shirt.

I thought it was interesting that this stranger would take the time out of their day to make such a comment, and how one would get to that decision. I’ve never really come up to a complete stranger without any context at all and complimented their attire. I have gone up to cosplayers at conventions and potential friends in class, but not complete random people who I wont ever meet again. So hearing the words “I like your shirt” was just something I thought was done on screen.

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This could be a seriously ridiculous idea, but I’m envisioning some kind of film similar to “Afraid So”. Where I re-enact different exchanges concerning visual looks of a person. Something to do with “That’s Nice” would be cool, or a simple montage of pleasant things. I know it sounds like I want to completely rip off the “Afraid So’ film, but hopefully I could add in my own spin on it, possibly just having it be played out in a very scientific set, and the “nice” things that are happening are just little experiences being played out that we could all relate to. Something quirky and acknowledges the camera.

 

A blonde woman, distraught and hysterical. She struggles to make words as her sobs tear through her body. The tight bun her hair was in is now loose, and limping to one side. Her jacket wrapped up all the way, perfectly protecting her from the outside elements, or maybe protecting her from someone else. She’s on her phone, desperately pleading for help.

“George please can I come over?!” She says in between sobs, “He hit me again this morning and I had to run out of there!”

She yells this across the platform, even though the only person that she needs to convey this to is her friend George on the phone.

“Please George, I barely made it out of there, can I stay at your place for a couple of days?”

She pauses for George’s reply, still sobbing loudly for the entire public to hear. After a few second she mumbles a quiet “thank you” and hangs up the phone. She picks her bike up from the bench, and immediately leaves the station platform.

I’m worried for her. As she mounted her bike and rode off to George’s house I wonder if she is going to find a happy ending. Today seemed like a horrible day for her, and while she has suffered this morning, I have been living my day to day life, neglecting homework and prepping for a birthday. I also realised that this event stuck with me because I was able to actively listen to it. Any other day I would have had both headphones in, completely oblivious to the outside world. In some alternate universe I would have just thought her muffled rumblings behind me were a nuisance, and that she was a nuisance to my day. I wouldn’t have been able to understand her situation at all. I would have just assumed something else. Maybe it was an argument on the phone with her mother, maybe she was just obnoxiously loud and passionate about a film that just came out. I could have missed this event, and not been able to write this observation at all, and that idea strikes me as very concerning, because I feel like her story needs to be told. And if was a stronger person, I hope that one day I will be able to stand up and help people like her.

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Something that plays on how close I could have misconstrued something so specific and detrimental to the party. Misunderstanding is a theme I want to emphasize, possibly how unreliable I am with my re-counting of this event. I’ve written like 4 drafts of this specific observation and that could play into how I want to frame this particular event. I could be purposely changing things to fit what I thought was happening, I could be forgetting other important facts of her situation. So this is a theme I want to explore and I want to do it with her, and possibly play out an event but told by a unreliable narrator. Someone who doesn’t know the complete story.

The train interaction between two people on two sides in their own two worlds. A girl drops her lanyard, too distracted by her phone to notice. A woman interrupts her boyfriends whispered comments and points the fallen object out to the girl across from her. The girl picks it up, says thank you, and then continues to look at her phone.

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Starts off as a small observational piece. Establishing shots of different people you can encounter on a late night train. A couple whispering sweet nothings to each other. A lone girl on her phone, texting a friend. A man in a yellow reflective jacket and construction boots struggling to stay awake. A young man trying to whisper apologies to his partner over the phone. 3 men trying to sneakily drink alcohol in the corner of the carriage.

After we establish these little vignette moments observing these people who take the 12:30 train, which is the last train of the night we come back to the first two worlds. The couple is established to be sitting directly across from the girl on her phone. Neither party has acknowledged each other throughout the entire train ride.

The girl then shifts in her seat, and a small item falls out, without he noticing. The woman in the couple notices it and breaks away from her partner. She sits up and points across very abruptly, disturbing the almost quiet in the carriage.

“Hey, you dropped your lanyard/keys.”

The girl on her phone breaks out of her mobile world. Unsure how to proceed from being talked to and looks down at the object the woman is pointing to. She quickly leans down and picks it up, and mumbles a quiet “Oh, thanks.”

The woman replies with, “No worries.” and continues to dote on her partner. The girl shoves her item into her pocket more tightly now, and then pulls out her phone again. Neither person acknowledges each other again.

I want this to be re-staged more purposely than what I observed. I want to make it start off feeling like we are an omniscient observer in this train carriage, and the people in it are too. There should be multiple angles of the different people, from the perspective of the other people in the carriage. So that when the audience thinks this is an establishing shot, it’s actually a point of view shot, which forces us to break the fourth way and connect the character to us.

 

The girl stood there diligently waiting for a customer to approach. Her dark hair was pulled back and tied into a loose bun at the base of her neck. A very ill fitting apron was wrapped around her as a poor excuse of a uniform, and her make up was done up perfectly to compliment her bright smile.

She smiled at the multitudes of women and men who would past the kiosk front. Being located underneath the escalators at Melbourne Central Station wasn’t a great place to host a sit-down cafe, but it was effective in catching all the straggling workers and students who needed a quick bite or drink on the go.

“Hi, how can I help you?” she asked a passing woman who was on her phone. The girl was probably in her early twenties, the woman almost twice her age. She ignored the girl, and continued talking on her phone. The girl was unfazed.

A man hurries towards the kiosk shortly afterwards and stands directly in front of the fridge displaying the food available. The girl smiles again, and greets him warmly.

“Hi, how can I help you?” she asks very politely, almost as if it was second nature to her to say those words.

I wonder if she’s said those words over a hundred times this week, maybe even a thousand. Working in hospitality is something I am very familiar with. A few years ago I started my first job doing the exact same thing this girl was doing. Stuck in the middle of a generic food court, located in the corner of a shopping centre, surrounded by other kiosks and stores all doing the same thing. Having people smile at customers, as we wait for someone to arrive and interact with. I remember waiting for hours by the register some days, never getting a customer, but always cheerfully giving the illusion that I was always happy to serve.

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The film could be focused on this girl’s regular day to day life. Maybe it starts off with her getting this job, being very excited for the new job. Fast forwarding (could also do that to footage as well in the film) to like when she encounters her first angry customer, her dealing with that, but still holing that smile and front. Then fast forwards more into a moment with her gaining more responsibility, like keys to manage the store alone, and her smile being more genuine. But then she becomes more weary of the job. Fast forward more until you see her start to break that smile, or the actor just smiles less happily. Now it’s just a front of a smile, no real passion behind it. That fake smile gets more and more empahsized, and eventually she gets to a customer that annoys her, a customer that is constantly complaining. She finally drops that smile.

A possible aesthetic choice was to only frame her mouth in these sequences. We never really get to her eyes. It could just be a medium close up on her lower face and shoulders. The background would have to be very purposely done, with props and setting playing a huge influence on what we observe, although the phrase “Hi, how can I help you?” already alludes to a customer service/hospitality role. We can just gather that she is new. Even her name badges could change from trainee, to a supervisor, to a manager and so on. Doing this, and disassociating the person from the smile, we only judge the smile now, and so we focus in on that. And hopefully create a film that shows when a smile no longer is a true smile.

 

I am usually a patient person. At bus-stops and train stations I always stand to the right and allow other people off first. If I miss a train I am happy to wait for the next one, even if it costs me a few missed minutes of class. And today was no exception, but it struck me odd that the other people around me, specifically this man standing in front of me, weren’t as kind to others. He jumped right through the doorway, giving no regard for the people who had been lining up outside on the platform for the last half an hour. He went straight in for a seat and sat down, dumping his belongings on the empty space next to him. The train wasn’t particularly crowded that day, but on any other occasion what he did would have been considerably rude. I took a seat directly in front of this man, which I don’t think he took too kindly to, but it was called public transport for a reason, and if he had any problems with the situations he was free to move as he pleased. He stayed there in his seat, and after the initial awkward eye contact one usually makes with the person less than a metre in front of them, he proceeded to look down at his feet and rigorously bite his nails. I was shocked by his ability to comfortably do something that most people only do in their own privacy in such a public place, but that wore off quick into disgust. The disgust wasn’t towards what he was doing, but how he was doing it. Violently gnawing at the cuticles of his thumb, then his index finger, then his middle, and so on and so on. He would repeat the same action over and over again, and over the course of a half an hour train ride this man did not once stop his methodical mutilation of his nail beds. This man just didn’t seem to be ale to relax, probably anticipating the next location he had to be in, and as I watched this man bite his nails for half an hour I began to sympathize with him and wonder what could be at the end of the train line that could make a grown man so uncomfortable that he would no longer care to be patient.

---

 

A character analysis, similar to seeing a moment in time, but not seeing the end result. We watch as this man is anxious, rude and careless. But as the train ride continues along we notice that his hair may be falling out, or that he is more nervous as the train gets closer and closer to his destination. We have shots of people commenting on his behavior, believing this man to be just a common jerk. But his expressions, and biting of finger-nails shows that he’s just on edge, regretting what is to come. The film could end with us arriving at the hospital in his local area, or walking towards a house, and leaving the audience wonder why he was so rude in the first place.

The children rushed in front of me towards the filling school bus. Many not caring about the innocent bystanders, specially me, that they were trampling over in the process. The small girls and boys were dressed in private school uniforms, complete with formfitting blazers and grey/navy stripped ties. The girls all stayed together, sitting close to the windows and avoiding the boys on the other side of the bus, probably because they had cooties. I managed to make my way through the slowly dwindling crowd of 12 year olds and reached the other side surprisingly unscathed. Turning my back to the children I noticed a lone girl lingering behind her classmates. She had her hair tied up and eyes focused on a mirror in her left hand. Her right hand held a brand of chap-stick that most parents would buy for their young children to subdue their requests for real makeup. With the lip-balm in hand she walked slowly, carefully trying to make her way across the busy footpath, while almost maintaining her focus on the important task of applying generous coats of the moisturizing product to her lips.

The car in front of me was driving way too fast, especially on a road where the limit was already high at 80. The white vehicle swerved in and out of traffic, and eventually came to rest in front of mine. It’s number plate was covered in dust, but the rest of the car was immaculate. Not a scratch, dent or indication of fading paint. This car looked almost brand new, and yet the number plate was so abused that something must have been amiss. But what was more peculiar was the 6 Elmo dolls sitting in the backseat window area. The entire back window was almost covered completely by the unblinking monsters, and I wonder if the person driving could see through all the red fur.

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A small quiet road during mid-day, with very little cars driving along it. A white car appears on the street suddenly, looking completely immaculate and average. Nothing is amiss about the car except for the few red detail in the paint, and the abundance of Elmo’s living inside it. It is completely filled, and the car eventually has to be pulled over to the side of this quiet road. The driver struggles to get out, there are Elmo dolls everywhere.

I imagine an absurd situation where nothing truly makes sense about the situation. Especially the comedic situation of being completely immersed with Elmo dolls, or other plush toys. Something very light-hearted and completely absurd possibly. The driver would probably take this all in stride, and a passing driver may just slow down and observe this driver repack all their toys in the overloaded car.

On my way to a friends house my phone was running low on battery. I knew that the train commute was going to take at least an hour, so to conserve battery life I opted to turn my phone off and travel in silence. My destination was on the other side of town, and with no familiar scenery or people to occupy my time I watched the people around me. I was disconnected from the world on this train, or at least that’s how I felt at the time. With no indication of time, no access to Facebook, and no music to listen to, I was finally cut off from my phone like I had never been since receiving this iPhone 3 years ago. Looking back I know I was being paranoid about my dependency on the device. I was worried I would miss an important call, or text, or meme. But after the initial shock of having my ears clear of headphones I began listening to the things around me. I listened to small quiet conversations between people I don’t know, I could hear the train engine stop and start, and bizarrely enough I could hear the music of other people around me, despite the earphones they were using. There was a man in particular next to me who played his Led Zeplin particularly louder than is safe for his ears, but the familiar sound of music blasted anywhere was comforting. And as I watched the people around me for something interesting to write about, I realised it was a perfect time for me to observe. I also realised that I could have been doing this way more often than just on train rides, but that my connection to my phone always distracted me in a way that made me less aware of the world around me. Disconnecting myself got me to wake up and actually fully dedicate my attention to this exercise, to this experience of noticing things around me which for the last two years I have been distancing myself from slowly. My phone, which is suppose to be a tool to connect me with the bigger world ended up constricting my freedom of consuming the real world, and actually disconnected me more with the world I was currently standing in.