Oi. I officially hate storyboarding. I think it's mostly because I'm still so uncomfortable with drawing people and the whole point of storyboarding is drawing lots of pictures of the same people doing various things with various expressions on their faces.
So here it is, a flash version of my storyboard for #2,537,801, the screenplay for which you can read in the previous post. The storyboard shown is a slightly better version of a series of thumbnail sketches I drew over the course of a few hours. What I present now represents around 16 hours of work. The quality should make my inexperience evident.
Still, I hope that my storyboard gives you an idea of what a movie might look like, were this scene ever to be filmed.
Since this swf doesn't play well on Blogger, I'm going to have to redirect you to my DeviantArt page. Don't worry, it's safe :P
#2,537,801
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
#2,537,801
This is yet another work that I can't claim expertise for, cautiously named #2,537,801, for an obvious reason you'll soon discover. This is for my midterm in Sequential Art class, which would be more accurately named Storyboarding class, but apparently also includes screenplay writing. We are to create a screenplay of our own, draw the storyboard out in it's entirety, and for our Final, we'll be creating an animatic. For now, I have just written a screenplay.
I deferred largely to another screenplay I found online for the formatting, so if the names and actions seem oddly formatted, it's because someone else did it, too. Still, the focus on this piece is the dialogue, so it doesn't matter much.
I had intended it to be a bit longer, but the work involved in drawing even what I have now is daunting, and I want to get the project done on time. I may add the rest later if people like what I have here.
What I would like to ask for is everyone's input. The more astute among you will see right through my little game, and possibly think it ridiculously obvious. Hopefully it's more subtle to those who aren't obsessive like I am about things :D
So let me know what you think should be changed, what spelling or grammatical errors I made, etc etc, but please give me your feedback.
Oh, and also, thanks to Dan Norton, my coworker and facebook friend, for allowing me to use his name. The date of his birth is fabricated, obviously, and is intended to establish the date this scene takes place in.
Enjoy!
--------------
INT. WAITING ROOM - VIEW FROM FRONT DOOR - TIME UNKNOWN
The WAITING ROOM is relatively quiet. Almost all the seats are filled with people, some old, some young, but all keep to themselves.
A few more people enter the room and find seats, only a few people glance up at their entrance. DAN remains lost in his own little world. Sitting along the right-hand side of the room, where the florescent lights keep flickering randomly.
SECRETARY: Mr. Norton?
DAN jumps as his name is called, seeming to return from a far away place. Dazedly blinking, he looks towards the front desk.
DAN: Yes?
SECRETARY: The board will see you now.
It’s a long walk down the tiled hallway. Very few doors populate the walls on either side of him, but one large, brightly colored door LOOMS in front of him. He pauses before entering, considering the obstacle.
He OPENS THE DOOR.
Inside is a slightly oversized room, with three doors, four chairs, one table, and three people. DAN walks cautiously forward and takes his seat before the board. They are hard to make out in the dim lighting, but the desktop lamps they each had revealed some of their more severe features.
HUGHES: Citizen two million, five hundred thirty seven thousand, eight hundred and one. DAN NORTON. Presiding on the board is myself, George Hughes. With me are board members Jeffery Bernard and Shawna Glade.
Another SECRETARY passes by DAN on his way to the board, holding a set of thick FOLDERS. HUGHES takes them with a quietly spoken “Thank you”, and passes the other BOARD MEMBERS one of the FOLDERS.
HUGHES: Dan Norton. Age 57, born August 21, 1965. Graduated from High School with unremarkable awards, worked for most your life at various menial jobs. No college education, is that right?
Their eyes seem to shine from their dark pits. DAN takes a moment to find his voice, then gruffly replies:
DAN: Yes, that’s correct.
HUGHES considers DAN for a moment, then turns to BERNARD. Who looks back at his FOLDER and turns a few pages.
BERNARD: You were fired from only a few jobs, but did not advance in any but one. You worked hard and saved enough money to retire early at age 50. You have since spent your time maintaining your home and playing with your dog, a Golden Retriever named “Duke”.
GLADE: You drive a silver Ford, which you maintain yourself at your home. As of it’s last test, it had one hundred and seventy five thousand, two hundred and fifteen miles on the odometer. You drive it often to visit your family in Georgia.
DAN: Yes, Ma’am.
HUGHES takes a few seconds to flip through the file. Pictures of DAN at his home, with his dog, and working his car are visible. Some were taken by the friends or family of DAN, but others seem to have been taken from a long way off.
HUGHES leans forward.
HUGHES: Why do you repair your own vehicle, Mr. Norton?
DAN: Uh, because I enjoy it, sir.
DAN shifts uncomfortably in the metal chair.
DAN: I find it relaxing, and it does save me some money.
The BOARD leans in to consider this new revelation. They whisper quietly amongst themselves, and DAN takes the opportunity to look around the room. In particular, he examines the two door set in the opposing sides of the room behind him. They look almost identical, but DAN gets caught staring at the door to his LEFT.
HUGHES: Mr. Norton.
DAN again jumps at his own name, snapping his head around to meet HUGHES eyes.
HUGHES: It is the decision of the board that Citizen two million, five hundred thirty seven thousand, eight hundred and one has not passed the preliminary consideration mandated by Act 125, Section 2,653, Paragraph 10. As per policy, we continue to the second consideration. Mr. Norton?
DAN: Y...yes?
HUGHES: Would you be so kind as to justify your existence to the board?
DAN shifts again nervously in his chair, looks around the room, as if to find some support from the walls.
DAN: Well, sir, I do pay my taxes regularly. And....and I also volunteer for the Boy Scouts at my local church.
The BOARD exchange glances among one another. DAN speaks louder, his voice sounding frantic.
DAN: I keep my house well kept, the prices in my neighborhood won’t fall on my account!
The BOARD again huddles to whisper, quietly. DAN doesn’t look around the room this time. He swallows a few times to calm himself. The BOARD again returns their attention to DAN.
HUGHES glances to each of the board members, receiving a nod from each.
HUGHES: The council has considered the testimony of Citizen two million, five hundred thirty seven thousand, eight hundred and one. We have decided that Mr. Norton’s life is not worth the resources to maintain it. Mr. Norton is not useful to our society or the common good, and it cannot be of much use to himself.
DAN stands from his chair suddenly, eyes wide open, sweat dripping from his chin. Two large men enter the room from DAN’s left and approach his chair.
DAN: You can’t do this to me! I’ve been a good man! A patriotic citizen! I paid my taxes, cast my votes! I was a loyal Democrat my entire life!
The BOARD doesn’t seem to hear, they are just spectators in a game they are already familiar with. The two large men take DAN’s arms and begin pulling him towards the door. Looking around, DAN realizes what’s happening and begins calling again.
DAN: I can change! I swear! I’ll do more community work, I’ll donate everything I have!
DAN and his two escorts begin down another long hallway, DAN fights feebly and is largely dragged the distance towards a large metal door. All the way he continues to plead.
DAN: Just tell me what I need to do! Who should I vote for, what should I think? Please, just don’t do this to me!
The metal door begins to close after DAN has been dragged through it. The boom of heavy metal echoes quietly to the BOARD, just as HUGHES closes DAN’s FOLDER.
I deferred largely to another screenplay I found online for the formatting, so if the names and actions seem oddly formatted, it's because someone else did it, too. Still, the focus on this piece is the dialogue, so it doesn't matter much.
I had intended it to be a bit longer, but the work involved in drawing even what I have now is daunting, and I want to get the project done on time. I may add the rest later if people like what I have here.
What I would like to ask for is everyone's input. The more astute among you will see right through my little game, and possibly think it ridiculously obvious. Hopefully it's more subtle to those who aren't obsessive like I am about things :D
So let me know what you think should be changed, what spelling or grammatical errors I made, etc etc, but please give me your feedback.
Oh, and also, thanks to Dan Norton, my coworker and facebook friend, for allowing me to use his name. The date of his birth is fabricated, obviously, and is intended to establish the date this scene takes place in.
Enjoy!
--------------
INT. WAITING ROOM - VIEW FROM FRONT DOOR - TIME UNKNOWN
The WAITING ROOM is relatively quiet. Almost all the seats are filled with people, some old, some young, but all keep to themselves.
A few more people enter the room and find seats, only a few people glance up at their entrance. DAN remains lost in his own little world. Sitting along the right-hand side of the room, where the florescent lights keep flickering randomly.
SECRETARY: Mr. Norton?
DAN jumps as his name is called, seeming to return from a far away place. Dazedly blinking, he looks towards the front desk.
DAN: Yes?
SECRETARY: The board will see you now.
It’s a long walk down the tiled hallway. Very few doors populate the walls on either side of him, but one large, brightly colored door LOOMS in front of him. He pauses before entering, considering the obstacle.
He OPENS THE DOOR.
Inside is a slightly oversized room, with three doors, four chairs, one table, and three people. DAN walks cautiously forward and takes his seat before the board. They are hard to make out in the dim lighting, but the desktop lamps they each had revealed some of their more severe features.
HUGHES: Citizen two million, five hundred thirty seven thousand, eight hundred and one. DAN NORTON. Presiding on the board is myself, George Hughes. With me are board members Jeffery Bernard and Shawna Glade.
Another SECRETARY passes by DAN on his way to the board, holding a set of thick FOLDERS. HUGHES takes them with a quietly spoken “Thank you”, and passes the other BOARD MEMBERS one of the FOLDERS.
HUGHES: Dan Norton. Age 57, born August 21, 1965. Graduated from High School with unremarkable awards, worked for most your life at various menial jobs. No college education, is that right?
Their eyes seem to shine from their dark pits. DAN takes a moment to find his voice, then gruffly replies:
DAN: Yes, that’s correct.
HUGHES considers DAN for a moment, then turns to BERNARD. Who looks back at his FOLDER and turns a few pages.
BERNARD: You were fired from only a few jobs, but did not advance in any but one. You worked hard and saved enough money to retire early at age 50. You have since spent your time maintaining your home and playing with your dog, a Golden Retriever named “Duke”.
GLADE: You drive a silver Ford, which you maintain yourself at your home. As of it’s last test, it had one hundred and seventy five thousand, two hundred and fifteen miles on the odometer. You drive it often to visit your family in Georgia.
DAN: Yes, Ma’am.
HUGHES takes a few seconds to flip through the file. Pictures of DAN at his home, with his dog, and working his car are visible. Some were taken by the friends or family of DAN, but others seem to have been taken from a long way off.
HUGHES leans forward.
HUGHES: Why do you repair your own vehicle, Mr. Norton?
DAN: Uh, because I enjoy it, sir.
DAN shifts uncomfortably in the metal chair.
DAN: I find it relaxing, and it does save me some money.
The BOARD leans in to consider this new revelation. They whisper quietly amongst themselves, and DAN takes the opportunity to look around the room. In particular, he examines the two door set in the opposing sides of the room behind him. They look almost identical, but DAN gets caught staring at the door to his LEFT.
HUGHES: Mr. Norton.
DAN again jumps at his own name, snapping his head around to meet HUGHES eyes.
HUGHES: It is the decision of the board that Citizen two million, five hundred thirty seven thousand, eight hundred and one has not passed the preliminary consideration mandated by Act 125, Section 2,653, Paragraph 10. As per policy, we continue to the second consideration. Mr. Norton?
DAN: Y...yes?
HUGHES: Would you be so kind as to justify your existence to the board?
DAN shifts again nervously in his chair, looks around the room, as if to find some support from the walls.
DAN: Well, sir, I do pay my taxes regularly. And....and I also volunteer for the Boy Scouts at my local church.
The BOARD exchange glances among one another. DAN speaks louder, his voice sounding frantic.
DAN: I keep my house well kept, the prices in my neighborhood won’t fall on my account!
The BOARD again huddles to whisper, quietly. DAN doesn’t look around the room this time. He swallows a few times to calm himself. The BOARD again returns their attention to DAN.
HUGHES glances to each of the board members, receiving a nod from each.
HUGHES: The council has considered the testimony of Citizen two million, five hundred thirty seven thousand, eight hundred and one. We have decided that Mr. Norton’s life is not worth the resources to maintain it. Mr. Norton is not useful to our society or the common good, and it cannot be of much use to himself.
DAN stands from his chair suddenly, eyes wide open, sweat dripping from his chin. Two large men enter the room from DAN’s left and approach his chair.
DAN: You can’t do this to me! I’ve been a good man! A patriotic citizen! I paid my taxes, cast my votes! I was a loyal Democrat my entire life!
The BOARD doesn’t seem to hear, they are just spectators in a game they are already familiar with. The two large men take DAN’s arms and begin pulling him towards the door. Looking around, DAN realizes what’s happening and begins calling again.
DAN: I can change! I swear! I’ll do more community work, I’ll donate everything I have!
DAN and his two escorts begin down another long hallway, DAN fights feebly and is largely dragged the distance towards a large metal door. All the way he continues to plead.
DAN: Just tell me what I need to do! Who should I vote for, what should I think? Please, just don’t do this to me!
The metal door begins to close after DAN has been dragged through it. The boom of heavy metal echoes quietly to the BOARD, just as HUGHES closes DAN’s FOLDER.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
A bit of writing
This is a small deviation from my usual submission. (I've submitted a couple of written works in the past, none of which have been all that good.)
I wrote this for a short writing exercise in my Creative Writing Class. The instructions were to write a story that would connect the reader with a tree that stood alone.
I delayed for a long while before submitting this, partly because I'm not really a writer and would rather not presume to be one, but mostly because I couldn't figure out a decent name to give it. (Is it just me, or is that the hardest part about writing?) I ended up settling for the simple truth, along with a cheap joke for my Coloradan friends .
Much much thanks go to my good friend Blue(Lindsey) Munoz, who gave me her valuable input as my editor.
It's been quiet around here, since I've been so busy with other projects that I haven't had a chance to produce much artwork. I have an animation I'm struggling to get rendered properly so I can submit it, but I'm having troubles getting it all together. Been a good learning experience, though.
Anywho, enjoy!
---------------------------
The Lone Tree
In clear disregard for basic laws of survival, the old tree squatted, clinging to the edge of a rocky cliff, trying to ignore the passing hikers. Many stopped to snap a photo of the gnarled roots and tangled branches, and the tree eternally endured the many flashes of light. Hikers were so selfish, the tree thought, taking pictures of private events and then wandering off without even a moment of contemplation. Most of them were too stupid to figure out how to turn the flash on their cameras off. This alone made their presence tolerable to the tree, giving it a bit of simple, cruel amusement.
And the hikers were really its only companions. His neighbors had once surrounded him, giving him all the company and protection from irritating humans as he could possibly want. But one by one they had died. The soil, or lack thereof, was hardly suitable, and the wind rising almost constantly from the valley below didn’t help matters much. Still, the tree had already gotten old and stubborn by the time his friends had gone, and now he had no choice but to continue on alone.
He had initially thought about ripping his own roots out and throwing himself over the edge. Perhaps he would die in the process, but at the time it seemed alright. Even if he had survived, he could see quite clearly that many other trees still grew below. However, he was not able to bring himself to do it, which explains his appearance rather well. He seemed to some of the more morbid hikers to be an undecided suicidal man who had stood at the edge of the abyss for so long, trying to work up the nerve to jump that he had grown old and fat. Now he was too heavy to even shift in the breeze.
Now firmly planted in place, waiting for erosion to finally take its course and do him a favor, the tree waits for the next group of hikers with Kodaks to pass by and give him something to laugh at.
---------------------------
I wrote this for a short writing exercise in my Creative Writing Class. The instructions were to write a story that would connect the reader with a tree that stood alone.
I delayed for a long while before submitting this, partly because I'm not really a writer and would rather not presume to be one, but mostly because I couldn't figure out a decent name to give it. (Is it just me, or is that the hardest part about writing?) I ended up settling for the simple truth, along with a cheap joke for my Coloradan friends .
Much much thanks go to my good friend Blue(Lindsey) Munoz, who gave me her valuable input as my editor.
It's been quiet around here, since I've been so busy with other projects that I haven't had a chance to produce much artwork. I have an animation I'm struggling to get rendered properly so I can submit it, but I'm having troubles getting it all together. Been a good learning experience, though.
Anywho, enjoy!
---------------------------
The Lone Tree
In clear disregard for basic laws of survival, the old tree squatted, clinging to the edge of a rocky cliff, trying to ignore the passing hikers. Many stopped to snap a photo of the gnarled roots and tangled branches, and the tree eternally endured the many flashes of light. Hikers were so selfish, the tree thought, taking pictures of private events and then wandering off without even a moment of contemplation. Most of them were too stupid to figure out how to turn the flash on their cameras off. This alone made their presence tolerable to the tree, giving it a bit of simple, cruel amusement.
And the hikers were really its only companions. His neighbors had once surrounded him, giving him all the company and protection from irritating humans as he could possibly want. But one by one they had died. The soil, or lack thereof, was hardly suitable, and the wind rising almost constantly from the valley below didn’t help matters much. Still, the tree had already gotten old and stubborn by the time his friends had gone, and now he had no choice but to continue on alone.
He had initially thought about ripping his own roots out and throwing himself over the edge. Perhaps he would die in the process, but at the time it seemed alright. Even if he had survived, he could see quite clearly that many other trees still grew below. However, he was not able to bring himself to do it, which explains his appearance rather well. He seemed to some of the more morbid hikers to be an undecided suicidal man who had stood at the edge of the abyss for so long, trying to work up the nerve to jump that he had grown old and fat. Now he was too heavy to even shift in the breeze.
Now firmly planted in place, waiting for erosion to finally take its course and do him a favor, the tree waits for the next group of hikers with Kodaks to pass by and give him something to laugh at.
---------------------------
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