'The Winner' - A Script For the Upcoming Short Film Release

This month I complete post-production on an eleven minute short film titled 'The Winner'.

It tells the story of Tilly, a teenage girl who comes to an anonymous big city after winning a magazine modelling competition.

The story explores the theme of ambition: 'What do you want? How much does it cost?'

Here, in the lead up to the film's premier screening (date TBA), is the script as well as some film stills.

THE WINNER

By

Dan Brophy

INT. WAITING ROOM. DAY.

A model casting waiting room. A jungle of slender limbs and espadrilles. Twenty girls sit in whispering huddles of two and three. Some sit alone and stare vacantly, some read novels.

TILLY a pale, waspish girl, 16, sits alone in the corner. She reads Paris Vogue, but the also has a small French-English dictionary which she references. Behind her two girls, TALLULAH, 17 and SIANI, 17 sit and look at each other’s portfolios.

SIANI

Did you go to Sportsgirl this morning?

TALLULA

No - I think the brand is really, like, a bit too mainstream for my look. You’d probably really suit it though.

SIANI

That’s a really pretty shot, you look, like, really ‘gypsy’ in it, kind of bohemian.

TALLULAH

Yeah, I’ve actually got some Gypsy in me - on my mum’s side.

That was India, so amazing. I was almost going to get the cover but they went with Gemma instead.

SIANI

Yeah, I remember that, you got like two pages and Gemma got, like, eight.

TALLULAH

I know, I got three, yeah. Gemma got five. It was a really amazing experience though. Really, like, spiritual. I just loved like all people and stuff. Some of the girls were really pretty, such a shame 'cause they’re so poor.

SIANI

Wow, is this Dan Wood?

TALLULAH

Yeah, he’s pretty amazing how, like, versatile he is. We just did this test in this like abandoned house with no roof as the sun was setting. Then we like, slept out under the stars cause he was too stoned to drive us back to the city.

SIANI

You slept with him?

TALLULAH

Well, yeah, I mean, I didn’t mind, he’s kind of hot - and he, like, really wanted me for India and totally pushed me to the magazine, cause they like, originally had some other girl on hold for it.

SIANI

Yeah, Me.

Next to Tilly, a girl, FEN, with white blonde hair comes and sits next to her.

FEN

Have you been waiting long?

TILLY

Yeah.

A door opens and a lanky girl slinks out.

FEN

Just go.

TILLY

I don’t think I’m next in line.

FEN

Who cares, just go anyway, I’ll go after you.

Tilly exits.

INT. CASTING SPACE. DAY.

Tilly stands in front of the panel that sits silently, scrutinizing her. RITA, 40s, wears a sharp black bob and thick-rimmed glasses.

JOHN, 30s wears cashmere couture flung over his shoulder and MARNIE, 30S, wears a pretty floral dress with a geek-chic edge.

RITA

Book?

TILLY

Excuse me?

RITA

Your book? Where is it?

TILLY

Oh, sorry.

Tilly hands over her portfolio.

JOHN

She’s the magazine competition winner. New Face.

MARNIE

Great eyes.

JOHN

Could be taller.

MARNIE

It’s editorial.

RITA

What’s the verdict?

MARNIE

Yep.

RITA

Yeah, I like her.

MARNIE

(to Tilly) We’re shooting a lot of sheer fabrics and were going to be showing them without a bra,

JOHN

Is that a problem?

RITA

We're asking all the girls –

EXT. LANEWAY. DAY.

Tilly walks down the cobblestone alley holding her book to her chest. She is small and fragile in the dominant surrounds. She listens to her iPod.

VOICE

What do you want?

Qu’est ce que vous voulez?

TILLY V.O.

Qu’est ce que vous voulez?

VOICE

How much does it cost?

Combien dargent pour la?

TILLY V.O.

Combien dargent pour la?

INT. STUDIO. DAY.

Tilly stands in the studio, dwarfed by a white backdrop. A photographer - Ben is 30s and handsome in a dirty way - stands on the other side of the room shooting her. His clothing is completely ‘rock star’ - though it’s hard to tell whether or not it’s authentic.

BEN

Just turn to me, angle your head down and part your lips slightly.

What are you listening to?

FLASH.

TILLY

What?

BEN

On the headphones? You into rock? Actually, nah, you’re probably a house chick – Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I?

[Turn to the left, side profile, angle up slightly. Great]

FLASH.

TILLY

Um. No, actually, I’m learning to speak French.

BEN

Fulla surprises. You wanna work there?

FLASH.

She nods.

BEN (cont.)

I’ve worked Paris.

TILLY

Really?

FLASH.

BEN

Yeah, a lot. I done London for like, three years and Paris’ like travelling an hour and a half cross town. I had jobs in London that took me longer to get to than jobs in Paris.

I could see you working there, easy.

TILLY

How? What do you have to do?

He puts the camera down.

BEN

You’ve got to have the right photographer take the right photo of you for the right editorial for an O.S. agency to see your potential.

TILLY

Wow, it’s so complicated. I just don’t know where to start.

BEN

I could help.

He approaches her with his camera. He angles her face down with his hand and goes to kiss her. She turns away.

She leaves.

EXT. STREET. DAY.

Tilly walks down the street, dwarfed by her surrounds. She listens to her headphones. Suddenly a car pulls up in front of her. Out jumps Scott, 19, wearing baggy shorts and a metal chain around his neck.

SCOTT

Where the fark‘ve you been?

She turns and walks the other way.

SCOTT (cont.)

‘Ey, come ‘ere.

Tilly! I’m farkin talkin’ t’you.

I’ve been callin’ you f’ days now? D’you know how worried y’ dad is?

Get’n the car, we’re goin’ home.

TILLY

No.

SCOTT

Tilly, don’t be farkin’ stewpid. Get’n the car.

TILLY

You’re not my boyfriend any more Scott, don’t tell me what to do. I’m staying here. I work here now.

SCOTT

Doing what?

TILLY

Modelling.

SCOTT

That’s not a farkin’ job.

TILLY

And what- like working at the local shop is? You’ve got no idea. No one in that whole fucking town does. None of you are goin’ anywhere – but you’re all too slow to realise. I’m not going home – ever. I’m going to Paris. I don’t care what it takes.

SCOTT

Listen to y’ self. You won some stupid magazine competition. There are people who win Big Brother who don’t even go anywhere. And y’ think you’re gonna be famous? Take a look at ya self, you’re not even that pretty. I don’t even know why I went out with you.

Your ugly and you’re a fucken idiot.

He goes.

INT. HOTEL LOBBY. EVENING.

TILLY enters. There is a girl, SILO, 16 sitting in a giant leather armchair.

TILLY

Have you been waiting long?

SILO

There’s someone up there now.

TILLY

Where is everyone else?

SILO

This is a request casting – which is good, you know, less competition.

TILLY

What’s it for – do you know?

SILO

Editorial in Paris. Collette. Have you worked for Dumas before?

TILLY

Who is he?

SILO

It’s Pierre Dumas.

TILLY

Ok.

SILO

Do you know Gemma? She shot with him a year ago and she’s pretty much done, like, every major campaign since.

TILLY

Oh my God.

SILO

The only thing is, he’s like notorious for - I mean, I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure she fucked him.

TILLY

Really?

SILO

Yeah.

THE OTHER GIRL storms through the lobby and exits. SILO smiles at TILLY and heads towards the elevator.

TILLY sits in the oversized chair. She is lost in a trance. A hum starts to resonate around her, distant at first, then with growing intensity.

As if no time has passed at all, SILO is standing in front of her. The hum still reverberates.

SILO

You’re next. Good luck.

SILO is gone. Tilly gets up.

INT. ELEVATOR. NIGHT.

She stands alone. The elevator ascends. It arrives. She walks down the hall, knocks and waits at the door. It opens. She walks into darkness.

INT. HOTEL HALLWAY. NIGHT.

The door opens, Tilly emerges. She is dishevelled, her hair and make-up defiled – but she holds it together. She walks from the hotel room to the elevator, calls it, waits and when it arrives, she enters.

She stands in the elevator, as she descends. She looks in the mirror and composes herself. She gives herself a little smile. The elevator hits the ground floor. The bell dings.

BLACK.