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The real story of a time yet to come, in the words of those who lived through it. |
Author's Note: this was something I wrote late last year, and I'm not sure why it's taken my so long to upload it. Anyway...the short version is, my brother and I were on a long car journey, and we passed the time by brainstorming ideas for a short film. The majority of the credit belongs to him, especially regarding the concept and structure; my contribution is mostly just embellishments, and of course writing it all down. The idea is that it would be presented as an underground documentary, filmed on smartphones or something equally lo-fi, and then uploaded to a streaming site of our choice. Each scene would be initially released seperately, over the course of a week, and then the whole film would be immediately re-released in its entirety. A good way of generating buzz, if we're lucky. And someday, we may even get on and make the thing. THE TRUE HISTORY OF THE BRITISH CIVIL WAR Story by Ant Appleby and Matt Appleby Screenplay by Matt Appleby 1. THE EASTBOURNE MASSACRE, 2031 INT. OFFICE. DAY. A long-abandoned office, with paper and other rubbish scattered everywhere. Most of the equipment and furniture is either missing or broken. EMILY, late 60s, white, is sat on a tattered office chair. (CAPTION) EMILY UNDISCLOSED LOCATION PRO-REFUGEE ACTIVIST INTERVIWER (O.S.) How did you first get involved? EMILY I grew up in Eastbourne. Refugees had been landing there for over a decade. At its peak, there was a boat every two days. (beat) It split the town right down the middle. Many wanted them gone. But a lot of us would go down to the beach to help. Food, blankets, mugs of tea. That sort of thing. (beat) We weren't trying to make a statement. Not back then, anyway. We just wanted to help. INTERVIWER (O.S.) And the massacre? What are your feelings about it now? EMILY (beat) Looking back, I can't say I'm surprised. There were always far-right groups around, looking for trouble. I never kept track of who they were. (beat) But an actual militia? With guns? In fucking Eastbourne? At the time, we didn't have a clue what to do. Nothing could've prepared us. (beat) On the bad days, I can still smell the gunpowder. I never expected to know what gunpowder smelled like. (beat) (to self) All those poor people. They deserved so much better. INTERVIWER (O.S.) The regime's line was that the militia were fighting off an attack. EMILY (angry laugh) And that's still the worst lie they've ever told. (beat) Those refugees weren't criminals. They were regular people, with families and lives. Just like us. (beat) No matter how bad this country has become, the places they were coming from are so much worse. END SCENE. 2. THE “DELIVERENCE DECLARATION”, 2032 EXT. COUNCIL ESTATE. DAY. An anonymous council estate, seemingly deserted. Deprived even at the best of times, there is now rubbish everywhere, and even patches of rubble. AMIR, early 20s, asian, is stood in the road, wearing a hi-vis jacket and holding a shovel. Behind him is a half-full wheelbarrow. (CAPTION) AMIR LOWESTOFT COMMUNITY LABOURER AMIR I was only seven when the war started. There's a lot I don't remember. But I do remember the Declaration. (beat) Mum was shell-shocked. Dad was crying. Even at that age, I knew what it meant. I'd been called “paki” enough times to know what my face was worth in this country. (beat) I heard kids these days are made to learn the whole speech by heart. INTERVIWER (O.S.) My neighbour once told me that. AMIR Yeah. But at the time, General Taylor only got halfway through before the government cut the signal. INTERVIWER (O.S.) I remember. AMIR Yeah. Suddenly there was no TV, no phones, no internet, nothing. That was almost scarier than the Declaration. (long beat) I miss the internet. INTERVIWER (O.S.) Me too. AMIR (long beat) There's that line from the speech... INTERVIWER (O.S.) (mocking) “Saving Britain from itself.” AMIR That's it. (spreads arms, gesturing to street) Look at my life. Look where his fucking deliverence got me. END SCENE. 3. THE SIEGE OF MANCHESTER, 2032-2035 EXT. UNDERPASS. DAY. A canal towpath, under a major road near a city centre. It has recently rained, and even in cover, the ground is wet. GRETA, mid 40s, white Polish, is sat against the wall, wrapped in a dog-eared sleeping bag. (CAPTION) GRETA BRADFORD FORMER NHS NURSE GRETA I came to this country when I was 20. Poland was already falling apart. (beat) If I had known what I was walking into, I would've stuck it out back home. (long beat) The siege lasted thirteen-hundred days. Over three years. Felt like thirty. (beat) We kept the hospital open the entire time. I'm very proud of that. We gave it everything. INTERVIWER (O.S.) What were the conditions like? GRETA (beat) Terrible. Absolutely terrible. (beat) No power or running water. Medications were near-impossible to come by. We didn't even have painkillers most days. (beat) To be honest, I think we killed more patients than we saved. (long beat) Some people came by every few days, carrying big vats of stew. Free of charge, and nothing was free in those years. Often that was the only food we had. None of us would've survived without them. INTERVIWER (O.S.) The Greer family. I've heard about them. (beat) Weren't they all hanged? GRETA Yes. I was there. (long beat) (looks away) I can guess what was in those stews. There were rumours even at the time. (looks back) (beat) If you ever find out for certain, please don't tell me. END SCENE. 4. REFUGEES, 2033-2037 EXT. REFUGEE CAMP. DAY. A small tent in the middle of a refugee camp. It's pretty threadbare, but a little life has been added by some scraps of coloured cloth, stapled to the outside. RICHARD, early 60s, white, is sat on a rusted director's chair outside. A small parafin stove is on the ground next to him. (CAPTION) RICHARD DIEPPE MIGRANT CAMP FORMER STORE MANAGER RICHARD At first, we all thought the war would be over quickly. This is the UK, not some banana republic. (dry laugh) At the very least, the Americans would sort it out. (beat) But they've got their own problems, haven't they? How many people have died from those dust storms over the years? INTERVIWER (O.S.) I don't know. Millions? More? RICHARD Must be. (beat) It was a long time before we accepted no one was coming. When we did, we knew we had to leave. INTERVIWER (O.S.) What's it like? Being a refugee? RICHARD Oh God. (beat) I wasn't rich, but I did well. Had a steady job. My kids went to a good school. And then suddenly it was all gone. Our whole world shrank to what we could fit into a few bags. (beat) I'd read a lot about refugees over the years. I guess everyone has. But actually being one? (beat) Fuck. I had no idea. (long beat) There was a flu epidemic, our first winter here. Anna, my wife, our son Rob, they both died within a few days of each other. My daughter Sam got onto the North Star. That Canadian ship. They had room for her, but not me. I didn't argue. I've no idea what's happened to her since. (sniffs, holding back tears) (beat) I hope she's doing well. She has to be. That's the only thing that makes all this worth it. END SCENE. 5. THE DUNDEE SEVEN, 2036 INT. COUNCIL FLAT. DAY. A kitchen in a run-down council flat. Some effort has been put into cleaning it, but this is only slowing the decay. JOHN, late 30s, white, is sat at a tiny formica table. (CAPTION) JOHN DUNDEE RATIONING ORGANISER INTERVIWER (O.S.) How did you know the Seven? JOHN Through Jane Miles. Her son Charlie was a friend from school. INTERVIWER (O.S.) The regime calls them martyrs. JOHN I know. I can see the statue from my office. (beat) They were no such thing. To be a martyr, you have to follow the cause. The McCalls were pro-democracy, had been since the beginning. (beat) As to the others, they just wanted to survive. But we all followed the McCalls' lead, I guess. INTERVIWER (O.S.) I didn't know that. JOHN No one does these days. (beat) When the government militia came through, we were actually pleased to see them. We offered them all the supplies we could spare. (beat) Of course, they thought they were too important to share. They took all we had, shot everyone who protested. A lot of us didn't survive they winter after that. (long beat) There were monsters on every side. That's all war really is, in the end. (beat) If you really want to tell the truth, like you say, then tell them that. You tell them that. INTERVIWER (O.S.) I will. END SCENE. 6. THE FALL OF PARLIAMENT, 2037 EXT. PUBLIC PARK. DAY. A city centre park, clean and orderly. Obviously a neighbourhood the regime cares about. It's only an hour or so after dawn. AMANDA, mid 50s, black, is sat on a bench. She looks cold. (CAPTION) AMANDA OXFORD THE LAST HEALTH SECRETARY INTERVIWER (O.S.) Did he think he could win? The Prime Minister, I mean. AMANDA He always talked up our chances. But I don't think he ever believed it, no. (beat) I suspect he was just indulging some Churchill fantasies. He could be childish like that. (beat) Once Manchester finally fell, we all knew it was just a matter of time. He started talking about “surrender with dignity”. Just another front, of course. (beat) As soon as the generals got within the M25, he turned and fled. Didn't even make it to Canary Wharf. None of us were surprised. INTERVIWER (O.S.) At which part? AMANDA (dry laugh) Both. (beat) Roberts turned him in. One of the undersecretaries. Also not a surprise. Betrayal was his style. (beat) There's that line. “Burning the world to become king of the ashes”. That could've been his mantra. (long beat) Within an hour, both had been hanged from a tree in Parliament Square. (beat) An honest-to-God lynching. I know there was a lot of that, during the war, but at the time I could barely believe it. (long beat) I won't apologise for joining the regime afterwards. It was literally that or hang with the others. (beat) But I know what that says about me. That I'm a coward like the rest of them. INTERVIWER (O.S.) Well, you're doing something about it now. AMANDA (beat) The government failed its people. I failed them. But maybe its not too late. END SCENE. 7. WRITTEN BY THE WINNERS, 2047 INT. CLASSROOM. DAY. A primary school classroom, well-maintained but under-supplied. The mis-matched furniture, whilst clean and neat, is obviously donated. CLAIRE, mid 20s, white, is perched on the corner of the teacher's desk. She's holding up a textbook, The History of the British Civil War. (CAPTION) CLAIRE VALE OF GLAMORGAN SCHOOLTEACHER CLAIRE (pointing to book) This is what your kids are being taught now. What we have to teach. Every word in here is a lie. (opens book, flips to page) Here's their bit on the Plymouth bombing. They say they targeted the hospital because Parliament troops were using it to store weapons. (puts book on desk) Have you spoken to any of the survivors? INTERVIWER (O.S.) A few weeks ago, yes. There's one living in Northumberland. CLAIRE Then we both know the truth. (beat) A few of them came through our village not long after. The generals attacked them just to deny the government a source of recruits. That's the truth. (long beat) I want to cry every time I open that book. The kids here just accept it without question. It's all they've got to go on. INTERVIWER (O.S.) What should they be told instead? CLAIRE (long beat) (closes eyes, looks away) After the war started, I was sent to my grandparents in Devon. We avoided most of the fighting, so I guess I was lucky in that sense. But getting supplies was very hard. (long beat) A neighbour's son caught meningitis. No way did we have anything to treat that. But eventually I managed to find a soldier at a nearby outpost. He could get antibiotics through the black market. (long beat) He would only give me the pills if I had sex with him. I was fourteen. It was my first time. INTERVIWER (O.S.) I'm so sorry. CLAIRE (opens eyes, looks back) I hear he's a major now. (beat) That's what the kids should be told. Right now, I'm afraid they're still to young to understand. But when they're old enough, this film will be waiting for them. INTERVIWER (O.S.) I hope so. END SCENE. THE TRUTH SHALL SET US FREE INT. OFFICE. DAY. The same derelict office as the first segment. The INTERVIWER is taking her turn in front of the camera. Early 30's, mixed race, sat on the same tattered office chair. INTERVIWER I want to thank everyone who took part in this film. You've all put yourselves at a great deal of risk to tell your stories, for no guarantee that it'll change anything. I couldn't be more grateful for your courage. (beat) I should also thank you, the audience, for watching. You're the reason for doing this, that you might see the truth, and understand why we must protest the lies. (beat) You've also put yourselves at risk. The regime will do what it can to silence this film and all who see it. I can only hope they do not succeed. We have to make sure they do not. (long beat) The next time you see me, it will either be for another film, or for my execution. I honestly feel it could go either way at this point. But I won't let that stop me. (beat) Remember, the truth only lives so long as people speak it. Look to those who give you courage, and to those who need courage. Keep each other safe. Keep fighting. Never give up. I love you all. (long beat) Good night, and good luck. The INTERVIWER stands up, walks towards the camera, and bends down to turn it off. END SCENE. |