Refined Script

The main focus of the script is on the disappearance of the Dad. The mum is trying to keep faith, whereas her son is being defeatist about it. The mother is called Johanne, the son, James, and the daughter, Lucy.

James: (head in hands) 4 days now. We have no idea what's out there -
Johanne: Please don't... (sighs) please don't start again.
J: He said he was just gonna see what was outside, then he was coming -
JH: Straight back! I heard just as well as you did James!
J: So where the hell is he then? He's not gonna endanger his own life for nothing, we both know -
JH: You don't know what happened to him! He could've found survivors, he could be coming back right now, he -
J: (he sweeps away the chess pieces from the board in anger – and walks away, facing away from Johanne) I just want to know where he is…

JH: (quietly) James… (slightly louder) James..?

J: Yes...

JH: He’s coming back James, he’s coming back. You know what he’s like...impulsive...there must be other people out their, survivors... (pauses for a few seconds) anyone...

J: Yeah...he... (slumps) (softly) yeah...

JH: Come and sit down...

J: (distant) Yeah. (turns around, sees chess pieces on the floor, begins clearing them up, he looks under the table and sees Lucy, he walks over to her)

J: (crouches in front of her) (conversation can’t be heard, POV of Johanne, he returns to the table)

JH: Here... (helps James set up the board)

J: Listen... Mum... I'm really sorry.

JH: You don’t need to be sorry, we’re as worried as you are, but just try to keep strong...for Lucy.

J: (nods, and they both look at her) Yeah... we can’t let her worry; it’d be too much for her.

JH: (after a few seconds) Beans?

J: Sure, I’ll just... (gets up and walks to the cupboard)

JH: (upon seeing James) Can openers on the side there.

J: Thanks (picks up the can opener, starts to open it, the can opener doesn't work, he exhales deeply) This...doesn't (slumps and tries again) why is everything... (gets climactically louder) it just (throws can on the ground furiously)

Lucy provides a retrospective narrative. It is over the top of the argument, although both can be heard.

Lucy: For a lot of the time after Dad left, this thing happened a lot. Of course Dad never came back to us... I guess I didn't really understand at the time, the grief, the uncertainty, I was too young to realize the confusion. For me, my world was now a dingy cellar, not exactly the kind of fantasy you read about in books. I had no idea what was going on above the cellar door, a young child’s imagination can run wild though. The idea of a sudden vacation to the cellar was a strange one, it had never settled right in my mind, but I never questioned it. I couldn't help my naivety; I was young, smart for my age, but the world was still a giant riddle my mind couldn't then comprehend. For weeks we sat in the cellar, our hideaway, our little slice of life. I never complained about the dust, cobwebs, arguments. They became their own rhythm, their own routine. Sure I missed my friends, good food, and a comfortable bed, but I trusted my parents. Like they always said - they had my best interests at heart. My parents were my life - and if I knew where my Dad's footsteps ever went, I surely would have followed. Confinement can eat away at a person, and for my Dad, his makeshift prison was as close to hell on earth as he could get. And so one day, he persuaded my Mum that venturing outside was the best thing to do. It wasn’t easy. He had convinced himself that a walk beyond the cellar would help us, that he would find help and bring it back. Although he never came back through those doors, I like to think it’s because he was courageous enough to go out and find whatever he could, even if it meant his life was the penalty. A caged animal always claws at its bars, and sometimes its eventual freedom makes everything else pale into comparison. He said he missed the bite of the wind, the soft glow of the Sun, the satisfying feel of the rain. No one could have convinced my dad not to leave; it’s one of life’s injustices you can’t change. He wasn’t selfish, far from it, he just needed that final breath on the outside, and the more I think about it, the more I think he knew he wasn’t coming back. His final words were not of a man absolute in his future, but of a man confined to his own fate. They say peoples eyes are the windows to their souls, and if this is true, then there was never a more distressed and broken soul as my dad’s. He didn’t cry, but his eyes betrayed him. If I wasn’t so young, my heart would have been broken the moment I saw the hatch shut.

The last bit of the film is a radio broadcast, a staple of the disaster film.

Radio Message (looped): If you can hear this, you are not alone. Do not go outside (static) Armed forces are attempting rescue of survivors. I repeat, Armed forces are attempting Rescue of survivors, Sit tight. (Static)

Posted by Michael McGroarty