‘The Kids of Kepler’

A Five-page Sample Original Screenplay

        By Cameron Luke Peters

FAM2004F

‘Screenwriting Application Sample’

2 May 2015

FADE IN: 

An overly-abstract metaphor for orgasm: a succession of

crisp, coloured frames ensues – each one violently

fading up from its predecessor – as if we’re

experiencing the meltdown of an old VHS tape’s test-

screen.

FADE TO: INT. SIFISO’S BEDROOM. COMPACT APARTMENT- DAWN.

A glimmer of crimson light like a whining neighbor is

falling on SIFISO’s exposed cheek as he dozes against

the pillow. With reluctance he sighs his face awake, his

body remaining inert, eyes gazing almost at us. He is an

early-30’s Xhosa man, handsome in his casual melancholy.

Out of nowhere in particular comes company:

                     ANNA (Off)
         Do you believe in – or really think 

         about – lust at first sight?

                       (Beat)

                       SIFISO

          Is this… what?

                      ANNA (Off)
          Partly. Partly just my intrigue. You 

          have a really interesting face, if

          you don’t know.

We’ve seen enough of it ourselves to concur. From now

we very gradually glide down his torso, curl around the

foot of the bed, and arrive at a close-up of ANNA,

still talking, lying back-to-front, her head leaned

slightly on SIFISO’s ankle. She’s somehow 21,

attractively pale, her eyes are her only mature

feature, hair cropped and blonde like the young Mia

Farrow.

                    ANNA (CONT’D)

          What I meant was that, y’know,

          ‘Love’ is a young thing, something

          you make into fantasy. But lust is

          ours; it can just materialize and

          arrest you and I like to think it

          can be a kind of personal

          revolution. More poetry should be

          written about it, you know. But

          perhaps sex is a little too sinful

          for the sensitive. None of them

          would think to read Henry Miller

          or Erica Jong or Jean Genet.

1 

                        (Beat)

                       (CONT’D)

          Sorry, I always do this. I’m

          finishing third-year English

          around now; I really don’t know

          what to do with it except bring

          dead writers up in conversation.

          So, do you understand me?

She turns her head back to him to ensure his reply.

                      SIFISO

           (With a shrug in his voice)

          I comprehend, I do, don’t worry.

          It might be a dangerous policy on

          occasion, but I’ve personally

          never thought people should keep…

          sincere things from each other.

(Beat) 

                         ANNA

          I was wondering why you were alone

          last night. I go to the Rink with

          friends all the time and I’m sure

          I’ve never seen you there.

CUT TO: INT. ICE RINK- NIGHT.

Flashback to the scene of our lovers’ meeting the

evening before. Until our return to the bedroom

however, the entirety of the soundtrack will be the

non-diegetic continuation of their conversation in

voice-over.

The rink is cozily peopled for a weeknight. An

absinthe-green pall of light drapes itself across the

ice. Dozens of teenagers, if not lining up for

Cornettos, are putting on their skates and standing at

the ice’s rim and falling on their arses. Young

families are tip-toeing along in daisy-chains.

                        SIFISO

          I’d never been ice-skating

          before at all, so that’s not

          surprising.

          Why would you go so often?

                          ANNA

          People-watching, mostly. One of

          the certified best spots in the

          city. Cheaper than a TV licence

2 

          in the long-run and my digs is

          two roads away.

ANNA and a couple she’s accompanied are saying their

farewells on the arena stairs. The present pair seem

too involved in each other to keep up much decorum and

indeed we wonder why they invited ANNA along, though

she doesn’t look like she minds being left alone.

As she sits we watch her gaze circle round the place,

settling on the more interesting extras now and again.

We see her make occasional instinctual reactions but

otherwise she’s just absent-mindedly eavesdropping on

the place entire.

Then SIFISO glides past, hands in his pockets. He’s

wearing seasoned jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt

that stands out against the white of the ice and the

blur of the background.

                        SIFISO

          Well, for future reference, what

          was it about me – besides my

          face, I mean – that caught you?

                          ANNA

          I don’t know, but… Wait, how’d

          you never skated before?  Next

          to everyone else, you were

          Nadia Comaneci.

                         SIFISO

          She was a gymnast.

                          ANNA (Whispering)

          A particularly graceful gymnast.

Now we’re with SIFISO, watching from his POV as he

traces identical ellipses around the ice. Then we break

away to track the nonchalance of his technique for

another revolution, until we see him pass ANNA who is

now leaning intently on the boundary.

                     ANNA (CONT’D)

           But yeah, I don’t know if this

           is a compliment, but you have

           an air about you of… of peace,

           of unfuckability, as I thought

           at the time. And that’s just

           such a rare sighting. You’re

           basically a red-letter day.

3 

We settle on her gaze again as she adopts our tracking

shot of SIFISO. We see her head turn three times in

quick succession as he repeatedly speeds past, paying

her no apparent notice.

                      SIFISO

          Thank you, I’ll take that. As a

          compliment I mean.

                       ANNA (Teasing)

           You can’t, I won’t give up the 

          copyright easy.

                         SIFISO

          Fair enough, I’ll have to make up

          something better instead.

                         ANNA

          Won’t be so simple, I really think

          I caught you for good there, in

          just a passing phrase.

Eventually SIFISO exits the rink and trods over to a

bench to start taking off his skates. Meanwhile, ANNA

wends her way around to meet him. When she arrives by

his bowed figure she sits beside him and says something

softly to his averted face.

Without looking up he replies unsurprised, and in fact

he only counters her gaze after he’s lifted his skates

up as a pair. Though this is their first conversation,

almost no-one observing it would label them true

strangers. They get up together.

                      ANNA (CONT’D)

          What have you got to get to? Or

          what am I keeping you from, should

          I say?

                        SIFISO

          I’m shooting in half an hour, I

          think. I’d really rather be kept

          from it.

                         ANNA

          What’s the target?

                        SIFISO

          A soapie no-one’s ever watched

          longer than ten minutes.

4 

                         ANNA (Surely grinning)

          I honestly didn’t know they still 

          make those. 

SIFISO exchanges his skates for shoes and a bag at the

appropriate counter. ANNA again sits by him on the bench

and they talk more closely as he readies to leave. They

get up to go and finally stop under the Exit arch.

                         (Beat)

She tentatively signals him to kiss her cheek.

After a moment’s consideration, he does. Another Pause.

She leans up to kiss his.

He holds his hand up to it, smiles, says goodbye and

starts to leave.

After a few steps he looks back. She’s watching him go.

He slowly beckons her over.

They leave hand-in-hand like a couple surprised by their

own reunion at the end of a rom-com.

CUT BACK TO: INT. SIFISO’S APARTMENT- DAY.

ANNA, clothed and up now, is staring out the bedroom

window as if through it she can glimpse the scope of the

cosmos.

                          ANNA

          What city are we in again? I keep

          forgetting these days and it’s

          become quite a bother.

                         SIFISO

          Last time I checked it was —–.

A passing siren drowns out the name. SIFISO emerges out

of the bathroom, made up now in a black crew uniform. In

one motion he sneaks around to kiss ANNA on the cheek

and sardonically glides to the door.

                     SIFISO (CONT’D)

          Take whatever you want for

          breakfast. And should I say it’s

          been more than a pleasure?

He exits. She continues smiling. A moment later she looks around for a full study of the abode.

On the far wall she spies a selection of Jazz CD’s and a hi-fi. After a quick perusal she chooses Chet Baker’s Greatest Hits, puts it in to play, and looks around again as ‘My Funny Valentine’ becomes recognizable. We fade into darkness as she starts to slowly dance around the room. 

FADE OUT: