I thought of an opening sequence this morning on my way to work.
See, it’ll be interspersed shots of the two main characters, each of them starting their respective days. It all starts with a cold open on an alarm clock. It’s one of those big digital displays and it says “5:59 a.m.” Then it flips to “6:00 a.m.” and the music starts (“Missy” by The Airborne Toxic Event).
One of the guys–the older one–gets out of bed and shuffles off to the bathroom, easy, like it’s just another day. But the other guy–the young guy–he hits the snooze button and just lies there. Then after a beat his girlfriend pokes him in the ribs and he gets up. It’s funny because it could really happen like that, you know?
Anyway, from here on we’ve got all these shots of the guys going through their morning routines. The older guy, he eats Cream of Wheat or English muffins or something. And the younger guy, he eats cereal… no, wait… actually, he doesn’t eat anything. He just has coffee. That would be better, probably. Sets up his character.
The old guy does some more old guy stuff. Like, he reads the newspaper… you know, like a print newspaper? And the young guy, let’s say he’s got an iPad. Or maybe a Kindle. No, definitely an iPad. Eventually they both brush their teeth and head for the door.
The old guy kisses his wife goodbye, like he’s done for 40 years or whatever, and the young guy just kind of waves to his girlfriend, who’s getting ready for work herself. Then once the guys get to the office–the same office it turns out–you, the viewer, are shocked when you find out the young guy is actually the old guy’s boss. You’re like, “Whaaaaaaaaaaaat?”
There’s a lot more, for sure, but it’s still all rattling around in my head. I’m hoping I can get the rest out on my lunch break. Either that or I’ll work on the idea I thought of yesterday.
What was it about? Okay, well, there’s this detective. And he’s got, like, early onset dementia. And as the story goes on, you, the viewer, are kind of wondering if the cases he takes on are real, or if they’re all in his head. For example, this woman he meets–every time he sees her, her hair’s a different color. Is she dying it? Or is it just a figment of his imagination?
That’s pretty cool, right? I might actually use it as my subject for next year’s NaNoWriMo (which I’m totally doing this time). I just need to flesh it out a bit before then… Anyway, first things first, it’s time head back to the stock room. This inventory isn’t going to unpack itself…