Saturday, March 1, 2008

filming test...proof concept.

Here are some test that I made with my little camera. The one is me trying to film while riding my bike down Broadway. (That was before the accident. I should have had been filming when I got hit.)

The other clip is concept of how the roof shots will take place. People will move in and out of the 360 pan and jump from roof to roof.

My main problem right now is working out the transitions. and thus the plots also.

Here is my treatment so far that I've sent to Juan:

1. Treatment. Write up of your project, in prose and in present tense. 1 to 3 pages. Illustrated or not.

Coasting through the gates of the city, the beacons of something great some unpronounced in the twilight air, we move from the streets up the walls. From the corner of 5th and Main Street in downtown, Los Angeles, we crawl up the building, and we keep going to the sky. This is where it begins. This is where we will never be again. This is where we will forget everything. This is where

Who are the in habitants of this of land world. People exist on roofs/piers/bridges/onramps.. the earth is dead. The earth comes alive in its moist appearance.. when its cool when its calm can we walk again.

Wild adventures and desires are expressed but no one leaves the safety zones. We are afraid from the shit. We are not the bourgeoisie.. we are aliens in this new landscape. Belonging to something.. Somewhere.

(Physical touch is how we jump.)

This is a collage of the roofs.. When ever something physical comes we touch. We fuck. We bleed. We lunch. A new images or stage is placed. There are observation decks. We change scene

We flip time the bridge or the ramp.

We transition with following the character from one roof to the next.

Why are these people here?

Scouting suicide posts? No.

Each roof is a new guy/girl/new personality chance. But nothing comes into play. Nothing is where she needs it to be. All ways cutting short.

They turn into a robot. And rust in the ocean.. an android… a heartless encasing.. pig intestines. . They gave and now they have nothing left. The city said they’d love them.. but they are left with nothing but empty openings. Floating.

No comments: