After watching an embarrassing amount
of How I Met Your Mother this summer,
I’ve become obsessed with finding out who Ted actually ends up with. However,
like every other avid HIMYM fan, the only thing I can do to solve the mystery
is watch more episodes. When you step back from the television screen, you
realize how brilliant this is. The creators of the show, Craig Thomas and
Carter Bays (shout-out to my fellow Clevelander! Proud to say that his parents
lived on my street for a while), came up with an over-arching plot that
automatically makes viewers return each season.
Although I would like to give all
the credit to my long-lost neighbor, this idea of showing a glimpse of the end
at the beginning is an old trick. Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet begins with the lines, “from forth the fatal loins
of these two foes, a pair of star-crossed lovers take their life…” And in the
movie Titanic, you know that the ship
is going to sink just by reading the title! By starting with the end, the
audience itself becomes a part of the movie. This is because it becomes the
viewer’s job to piece the plot together.
I decided to try and create my own HIMYM, Romeo and Juliet, or Titanic. The other night, I had this
dream that John Krasinski was sitting on a couch at this place called the City
Club, being interviewed for the radio.
SIDENOTE: This City Club was basically a
bunch of lounges with glass walls between them all where different radio
stations were performing interviews all at once. It was a really cool place
that had an open bar and great big comfy couches. If a place like this doesn’t
already exist, it totally should.
So John Krasinski is sitting in one of
these couches, wedged between two women who look uncomfortable to be there. But
John is smiling. He leans forward, pushing the two ladies out of the way, to
answer a question into the microphone.
I took this dream, and turned it into the
start of a screenplay, using the “start-with-the-beginning” technique. As for
the main character, picture John Krasinski while you read it. Although he isn’t
in his usual “nice guy” role, I think he’d be perfect for the part. (In my
ideal world where I can cast my own first-draft screenplays.)
JOHN KRASINSKI SCENES
INT. CITY CLUB STUDIO — MIDDAY
JACOB sits on a
couch with HIS WIFE, LINDA, and HIS SISTER-IN-LAW, MARCY. The couch is small,
and they are uncomfortable.
THE RADIO STUDIO
looks more like a lounge, with dim lighting and a microphone in the middle of
the room. A MAN sits across from the couch with headphones on. HE is at a desk
with another microphone.
MAN (into the
microphone): And we’re live her at City Club, with Jacob Lewis, his wife,
Linda, and his sister-in-law, Marcy. Now Jacob, can you tell us how this all
started?
JACOB smiles, wedged
between LINDA and MARCY. HE’s wearing a suit that looks out of place on him; we
can see his ankles. HE leans forward to talk into the microphone...
FADE OUT.
FADE IN.
INT. BEDROOM — EARLY MORNING
JACOB wakes up to
the PUPPY BARKING. HIS WIFE GROANS. JACOB turns over; the clock reads:
7:00 a.m.
JACOB: Baby it’s
your turn.
THE PUPPY BARKS
again. HIS WIFE turns away from him, not getting up. JACOB GRUMBLES, swinging
his legs over the side of the bed. We see his tall white socks, green boxers,
and white t-shirt.
JACOB (mumbles):
fuck it.
As JACOB stands, he
scratches his groin. THE PUPPY BARKS again, and JACOB walks out of the room.
INT. THE KITCHEN — STILL EARLY MORNING
JACOB opens the
cupboard and pulls out the dog food. HE scoops a cup into the dog bowl when the
phone RINGS. He answers it—
INT. MARCY’S APARTMENT — KITCHEN
MARCY has her back
to the camera, looking into the refrigerator. We see milk, cheese, eggs... the
fridge is stocked. MARCY holds a phone to her ear.
MARCY (into the
phone): I’m out of Vee Eight.
INT. JACOB’S KITCHEN
JACOB is now looking
into his own fridge. One hand on the refrigerator door, one hand grabbing the
milk, his phone is wedged between his shoulder and his ear.
JACOB (into the
phone): So?
INTERCUT—
MARCY shuts her
refrigerator door.
MARCY (into the
phone): So I’m coming over to get some.
INTERCUT—
JACOB gets a box of
cereal out of the cupboard.
JACOB (into the
phone): No you’re not.
INTERCUT—
MARCY grabs her car
keys off of the counter.
MARCY (into the
phone): Too late, I’m already out the door.
INTERCUT—
JACOB pours his
cereal into a bowl.
JACOB (into the
phone): But we don’t have any Vee Eight.
INTERCUT—
MARCY grabs her
purse, slips on a pair of flip flops, and leaves her apartment, locking the
door behind her.
MARCY (into the phone):
You don’t have any Vee Eight?
INTERCUT—
JACOB sits on a
stool by the counter and takes a bite of his cereal.
JACOB: No, Marcy.
I’m not a seventy-year-old woman who’s constipated.
INTERCUT—
MARCY walks to the
end of a long hallway and presses an elevator button.
MARCY (into the
phone): You’re thinking of prune juice, moron.
INTERCUT—
JACOB, finished with
his cereal, gets up to put his bowl in the sink when he steps in a puddle of
pee.
JACOB (to himself):
Dammit Shellfish!
JACOB hops on one
foot to the sink and wipes off his foot with paper towel.
INTERCUT—
MARCY steps into the
elevator, and AN OLD MAN in a business suit COUGHS.
MARCY (into the
phone): Did you just say shellfish?
MARCY is SPEAKING
LOUDLY, and THE OLD MAN looks appalled.
INTERCUT—
JACOB throws out the
paper towel and smiles.
JACOB (into the
phone): Yes, Shellfish just peed everywhere.
SHELLFISH walks over
to JACOB and licks his feet.
JACOB (whispers to
the dog): good boy.
INTERCUT—
The elevator stops
and ANOTHER BUSINESSMAN steps on. THE OLD MAN GRUMBLES HELLO and MARCY shifts
to make room.
MARCY (into the
phone): I didn’t know Shellfish could pee.
INTERCUT—
JACOB pats SHELLFISH
on the head.
JACOB (into the
phone): Yup, Shellfish peed everywhere.
INTERCUT—
Now BOTH BUSINESSMEN
are annoyed, but MARCY is oblivious.
MARCY (into the
phone): I’m allergic to shellfish, Jake! I break out in hives.
INTERCUT—
JACOB starts making
a pot of coffee.
JACOB (into the
phone): Well, there’s pee everywhere. Maybe you shouldn’t come.
INTERCUT—
ELEVATOR MUSIC PLAYS
in the background, but MARCY talks over it.
MARCY (into the
phone): Just clean it up; I’m almost there.
MARCY hangs up the
phone, and THE OLD MAN SIGHS.
MARCY:
Brother-in-laws, am I right?
No one responds, and
the elevator door finally opens.
INTERCUT—
JACOB puts the phone
down on the counter and bends down to pet SHELLFISH.
JACOB (whispers):
such a good boy.
FADE OUT.
**SIDENOTE:
I’m bringing back the writing logs that used to be at the end of every blog
post. Sorry for those of you who missed them!
SCREENPLAY PAGES WRITTEN: 56
NOVEL PAGES WRITTEN: 90
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