Hostel meets The Astranaut's Wife. Working title: The Butcher. The premise is that a beautiful girl escaped a long time ago from an asylum. Detectives looking for her tend to disappear. Enter: Jason Goodman, a young detective on his way to a big case in the big city...showing special promise, he has been handpicked to be Piet Byleveld's protege (or similar). On his way with all his possessions - to Johannesburg (seeking his fortune) he stops at Ventersdorp - and having heard a rumor that the biltong is good - visits the local butchery.
Behind the counter is a beautiful young woman: Morgan MacDonald is a lissome, utterly intriguing and at turns (when not covered in blood and guts), desirable woman. Jason's interest is piqued, but the face is also strangely familiar. Is she the girl who escaped from the asylum? Jason decides to hang around for a few days.
He discovers that the small town has a thriving funeral business (which it does in real life) meanwhile it appears to have quaint buildings alongside decaying hollowed out structures. The metaphor is that people and the the buildings are analogous. One is hollowed out, wasted and empty, while another is filled with secrets (not necessarily nice one's either).
Jason discovers the previous owner of the butchery has disappeared mysteriously. Yet no one seems to care. The locals appear hypnotised by the Butcher. She is seen as the strength, the vitality, the lifeblood of the town...her passion infuses the streets...the new young butcher occasionally throws lavish parties, serving the finest cuts of meat. Inevitably someone disappears, but no one talks about this; it is the sole slice of happiness for the dying town.
Morgan is an apparently skilled gourmet chef, with a top notch collection of knives kept surgically clean. Her knowledge of herbs is superlative. She has obvious skill in the furnace; working with fire, searing steaks to a perfect bloody perfection.
Theme: sex and death (symbolised through blood, decay and beauty). In this story it becomes increasingly obvious that this incredibly beautiful creature is also incredibly lethal. As the young detective realises this, he also realises he cannot help himself, he can't stay away from her. Finally, she invites him to dinner...
POSTSCRIPT: After watching Adaptation AGAIN I noticed that McKee's book STORY (a book I have) also features in the movie. Subsequently I unearthed 3 Amazon ordered books on scriptwriting that I have never bothered to read. The above piece I wrote about a week ago, before this crazy Scriptwriting demon grabbed ahold. Perhaps it is time to put pen to paper, as a means to singe light from silver screen to every retina I can muster.
Charlie Kaufman: [voice-over] I am pathetic, I am a loser...
Robert McKee: So what is the substance of writing?
Charlie Kaufman: [voice-over] I have failed, I am panicked. I've sold out, I am worthless, I... What the fuck am I doing here? What the fuck am I doing here? Fuck. It is my weakness, my ultimate lack of conviction that brings me here. Easy answers used to shortcut yourself to success. And here I am because my jump into the abysmal well - isn't that just a risk one takes when attempting something new? I should leave here right now. I'll start over. I need to face this project head on and...
Robert McKee: ...and God help you if you use voice-over in your work, my friends. God help you. That's flaccid, sloppy writing. Any idiot can write a voice-over narration to explain the thoughts of a character.
[to Charlie] Robert McKee: I'll tell you a secret. The last act makes a film. Wow them in the end, and you got a hit. You can have flaws, problems, but wow them in the end, and you've got a hit. Find an ending, but don't cheat, and don't you dare bring in a deus ex machina. Your characters must change, and the change must come from them. Do that, and you'll be fine.
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