HEADLESS CHICKEN Full Screenplay + Cinematic Ideas

LOG: A DISTURBED YOUNG ADULT FINDS HIMSELF INEXPLICABLY DRAWN TO THE DISTANT CRY OF A WAILING CHICKEN.

FADE IN.

- INT. YOUNG ADULT BEDROOM, NIGHT

The WHITE NOISE of a spent record runs maddeningly alongside another sound, piercing and inexorable; a distant yet unmuffled WAILING OF CHICKENS. A window cracked half-open shines a white light into the room, mingling with the weak flicker of a small BEDSIDE LAMP that illuminates a lonely figure.

Strung taught in fear under a thick duvet, tiny amongst the clutter of his bedroom lies our unfortunate protagonist of 18 years. A sweaty mess of hair and an unshaven chin define a shivering, grimacing face - deathly awake. Swaddled in sheets, his eyes fix strictly into nothingness, attention seized by the echoing cries. A jagged few seconds pass before he shoves the covers from himself and arises, half-naked.

A cold dredge rattles up his spine. He slumps forward with the grace of a zombie, dragging towards the RECORD PLAYER; stumbling but carrying his momentum dumbly across the space. Now close to the window he pauses. His hand limply flicks the record-needle away to cease the buzz. The boy's face rises blankly to meet the window's moonlight, dead-staring the screeching night.

- EXT. SUBURBAN GARDEN, NIGHT

The boy stands paralysed at the head of a long garden path, the light of his house behind him. Cold air bristles against his naked torso and face. The birds' wailing still possesses his attention. His bare feet grudge into the mud towards the sound; his breath sharpens as the noise grows louder.
As he approaches the chicken coop, the crying now begins to muffle the ambient noise of the garden scene - the sound is coming from within a small henhouse, out of sight; the gate of the enclosure is open, the ground a muddy sty. Suddenly a PROXIMITY LIGHT from within the pen flashes on, 
startling the boy - he recoils, stumbling.

The bewilderment wakes him a little and he sighs heavily, snapping out of the moment and feeling the cold. He steadies himself on the coop's fence, composing himself and making to close the gate of the pen, ready to leave the scene. Before he can, a slick of red amongst the mud catches his eye from the otherwise muted scene.

The colour leaks into the dirt from an obscured form - he looks for a second, before dreadfully realising that he will have to investigate further.

He enters the coop, lowering himself into the mud. After some investigation, the source is revealed in the gory form of a recently DECAPITATED CHICKEN, bleeding fresh. He recoils, grimacing, terrified. The chickens' wailing dies to silence; his heavy breath, the squelch of mud and a soft wind remain to erratically punctuate the scene. He continues to recoil from the sight, drawing out the withering seconds of his horror.

At the climax of his shock, his sight is caught once again by something even more ominous; from past the chicken coop, a surreal figure emerges from the shadows. Humanoid - dressed in a slim, plain black suit, withdrawn and crouched primally; not physically intimidating but terrifying in an animalistic, unpredictable sense. His face is featureless, a blank white surface with a deep red stain around the mouth. Hoarse breath and a murmuring heartbeat underlie the confrontation.

The gaze is locked for a moment, before the spectre quickly shifts sideways on all fours, keeping sheer eye contact. The boy turns heel and breaks into a stumbling sprint to escape. The figure scuttles out of frame in fear, spider-like into the night.

The headless chicken lies lifeless, still bleeding slowly. 

FADE OUT.

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This was written up formally using the popular online screenwriting tool Celtx.com, handily formatting the piece into a professional style. In reflection and feedback from a first draft, a great deal of the criticism was that my language is too flowery and prose-like, as might be expected from the semi-technical mode of a script - I took this certainly into account but held heavy reservations about paring it back completely for two major reasons. The first was a reluctance to detract from the atmosphere and engagement of the script itself, for fear of those meaning to get a grip on my story through the document being bored or uninspired by its content. The second major reason was that my script has no dialogue and very little in terms of technical detailing, given the openness and creativity I am striving for coming from the ambiguity of a dream - I believe for it to thrive both as a creative and 'working' document the embellishment had to be implemented, for fear of it falling flat. Otherwise, I think this suits my own ambitions well. It is personal and evocative of my imagination, but practical in a cinematic sense with pacing, defined images and a clear atmosphere.