Star of Stage and Screen
I’m adapting Vapormage for film.
I mean I don’t expect it to ever get picked up and I might not even finish it (plenty of other things going on in my life, I’m closing on a house this week), but you gotta stretch your skills, y’know? After doing a large-scale edit of the novel to tighten up the word count (didn’t quite get 10% down but I got close), trying to turn it into a two-hour movie is proving to be an even harsher slimming down. I basically lose all the character arcs except Kell’s.
I am finding that all the challenge is in the content. The screenplay format is not hard, as precise and multifaceted as it is. Everything must be presented a certain way and things follow in certain orders and important things are specially tagged and segments have identifying marks and that’s programming. A screenplay is software, a director is a compiler, and since they’re human they probably won’t weep if you fuck up a semicolon.
This isn’t an entirely new idea for me, though. Back in high school, my dad gave me an old beat-up laptop from his work. It had a 3.5-inch floppy drive and no wi-fi! Naive and ambitious me, lush with a database of Hollywood scripts I shouldn’t’ve had access to, used it to write a screenplay based on the furry webcomic Jack. It was bad. (Probably. It’s lost to time.)
I regularly wonder, as an adult, if I should’ve tried to be a professional screenwriter. I don’t think I’d be happier if I had, necessarily. I probably don’t have the chops and I definitely don’t have the network. I don’t like LA. I very likely would’ve failed. But still.
Look at these things
Currently reading: Annihilation, by Jeff VanderMeer. Been busy, need something shorter to read. Also been reading a bunch of random screenplays. American Psycho has so few scenes compared to other stuff, apparently.
Currently listening: Savvy Show Stoppers, by Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet. The “Kids in the Hall” band. I bought their discography on vinyl before grad school, sold it off, and recently found I still had the mp3 redeem code.
Currently playing: Nightmare Kart. Finally, Bloodborne on PC! It’s only like two hours of gameplay and frankly that is as long as the joke lasts so it’s fine by me.
A little story
I mean it, I’ve been writing the screenplay. And I mean it that the compression is intense; the first chapter goes from about 5,200 words to about 850, across 5 pages. The layout won’t hold in an email (not conveniently, anyway), and putting dialogue under tags makes it super long in the email, so it’s all a little funky. But you can see what I’m getting at here.
FADE IN:
EXT. THARSIS MOUNTAINS - MORNING
A foggy mountain range, evergreens and sharp slopes. Autumn. It's normal but feels mystical, like there's magic in the air.
KELL (V.O.) (measured) I'm Private First Class Kell Rusalka, they of the Cymonian vapormages. We were in the mountains, training-
SHEILA (V.O.) Shut it.
EXT. FOREST, BASE OF MOUNTAIN - DAY
We see KELL RUSALKA (29), on their back in a pile of rocks, a dirt-covered mess that just fell down the slope. They're a scrawny anachronism. Medieval cloak and futuristic helmet with LED light eyes that animate for expression. No exposed skin. They look like a robot, like a product.
The only sign of their humanity is their physical worry about the claymore at their throat.
SHEILA TAKEDA (33, light hair) is holding it. She's pissed. Her wardrobe is pissed. Kell is in her home.
SHEILA (CONT'D) I don't care about your story.
KELL You asked me to explain.
SHEILA Maybe I just decided I don't want your explanation.
CORY (O.S.) Sheila? What's going on?
She loosens at the voice. CORY (late 40s, brown feathers) approaches. He's a vian, a bird-like human. Stocky and stoic. A leader.
SHEILA Just doing my job. C'mere, look at this fish I caught.
CORY And what do you plan to do with it?
SHEILA (calm) Gut it.
Kell almost speaks up. Cory notices.
CORY We're not at war anymore, Sheila. (offering Kell a hand) And fish don't talk. You hurt?
Kell accepts. Gets up. They're the shortest person here.
KELL Not too badly. Somehow. Kell Rusalka, they of-
CORY We can do introductions in town. Follow me.
EXT. FOREST - DAY
The three approach a worn-out stone wall and rotting gate. Whatever village it protected hasn't mattered in decades. Cory opens the gate. It takes no effort.
CORY Alright, kid. Welcome to Milend. Our humble little home.
EXT. MILEND - DAY
The village is more like a campground. Tents, sagging cabins. Destitute. Signs of life but no people. A ghost town.
KELL Quiet out.
SHEILA They're all hiding. From you.
EXT. MILEND FIRE PIT - DAY
Cory finishes talking with someone unseen in a cabin. He approaches a sitting Kell. Sheila is guarding.
CORY Alright, go ahead, kid.
KELL Okay. So.
FADE TO:
EXT. THARSIS MOUNTAINS - MORNING
Kell is on a thin trail beside a knight, ROCKO LARSON (31, ashen hair). Rocko handles the trail well. Kell doesn't.
KELL (V.O.) We were training when the quakes happened. You felt them down here, right?
CORY (V.O.) Yup.
Kell and Rocko draw their weapons, rod and sword. They see something scary.
KELL (V.O.) Right. Well, that separated us. 'Cause... There was a summon.
SHEILA (V.O.) (scoffing) A summon?
The summon. A STRIX. Giant, orange, owl-like. It looks confused, dancing violently. Kell is blasting magic at it. Rocko takes erratic swings.
KELL (V.O.) Had to be. Farolé programmed some as weapons, it was in the news. So, Rocko tried to throw it off script. That didn't work.
The strix stomps. Magic quakes the ground. Kell clings to a tree as a landslide happens. Everything else is gone: the trail, the strix, Rocko.
CORY (V.O.) It's easy to break a summon's programming. Maybe it wasn't one.
KELL (V.O.) What else could it have been? Vakonivak?
SHEILA (V.O.) Fuck no!
BACK TO:
EXT. MILEND FIRE PIT - DAY
Sheila's looming over Kell, barking at them like a drill sergeant.
SHEILA Our Guardian does not prance around in the mountains! She'd only be there to keep you assholes from starting another war!
CORY (scolding) Sheila.
An awkward pause.
KELL Look, I don't mean to be any trouble. I just want to go home. But the trail's ruined, and I heard the tunnel's blocked. And my helmet got banged up in all this, I don't have any way to call.
CORY I've scribed a few sigils in my day. Pop it off, I'll give 'er a look.
KELL (scared) I can't.
SHEILA You heard him.
KELL I can't! Look, I'd appreciate it, but... If I took this helmet off, I would die. And so would you.
SHEILA That a threat?
KELL Do I sound like I wanna hurt you? I just wanna get home.
CORY Everyone wants to get home, kid.
Sheila turns suspiciously friendly. She has a plan.
SHEILA I hear ya. Alright. We're going to Cuesta. Embassy row. Be there by nightfall.
KELL "We"?
SHEILA You heard me. Bessetrae's a tough place. You're dead on your own.
Cory gives her a look that says "I know what you're up to and don't you dare". Sheila ignores it.
SHEILA (CONT'D) Keep an eye on 'em, Cory, I'll be right back.
She walks off. Cory follows. Grabs her by the shoulder. Leans in close to whisper.
Kell casually puts their hand on their helmet. A finger slides. We hear what they hear: the world getting louder. They can barely make out:
CORY (aggressive) ...That kid dies, you better hope you die too. We square?
They slide the volume back down and squirm.