Ch 42: Pitch Meeting

{1st Person POV}

Monday, 16th June, 2008

Excitement bubbled within me as I stood poised at the centre of the room, surrounded by a congregation of half a dozen esteemed producers, executives, and the formidable presence of Mr. King. My voice resonated with enthusiasm as I exclaimed, "So, let's get started!"

Taking hold of a piece of chalk, I approached the blackboard mounted on the wall. With deliberate strokes, I inscribed the word 'Title' in bold, captivating letters at the top of the board. Beneath it, I sketched an arrow, guiding the gaze of the room downward. And then, I etched the numbers '1917' below the arrowhead.

As the final stroke settled into place, I stepped back, allowing the title to stand in resplendent clarity.

As the words '1917' settled upon the blackboard, a palpable shift in the room's atmosphere ensued. Curiosity mingled with the faint trace of confusion, an amalgamation of expressions painting a vivid painting of sorts across the faces of the assembled producers and executives.

In the midst of this silent symphony of anticipation, a voice pierced through the expectant hush. "What is that?" queried one of the producers or executives, their tone a curious blend of intrigue and uncertainty.

With unswerving confidence, I responded, "The title of the film."

Yet, the room remained immersed in a tapestry of intrigue and questioning glances.

The producer or executive leaned forward, their furrowed brow a testament to their contemplation. "I know that much," he said, his voice treading the fine line between curiosity and interrogation. "What I meant was why '1917' specifically?"

The air quivered with anticipation, a charged silence accentuating the weight of the question. It was as though the very essence of the film's narrative hung in the balance, awaiting the deft stroke of explanation to breathe life into the enigmatic title that graced the blackboard.

I stood in my place, frozen like a statue, silently thinking up a backstory to the title.

In that suspended moment, the room became a crucible of inquiry, waiting for me to say a single word.

"Why '1917'?" I repeated the question, to which the producer or executive nodded his head.

I took a moment to collect my thoughts, adopting a pensive stance. One hand found its place beneath my chin, the other resting casually at my side, a posture that conveyed both contemplation and confidence.

"That's because I wanted the title to be something unique. Something that'll make the film stand out head and shoulders above the sea of generically titled war films, and a numerical title does just that."

As I articulated my reasoning, a soft resonance of passion infused my voice, lending weight to my conviction.

'Thanks a lot, Advanced Tier Screen Acting!' I thought, grateful to the skill I bought for being so helpful in situations completely unrelated to acting in films.

With the end of my explaination, a collective release of "Ah", "I See", "Mhm" and nods was heard (and seen).

I looked over the response to my explanation with a slight smile adorning my face.

"That's all fine and dandy, but why '1917'?" A voice made its way from the back.

I shifted my gaze to the person who voiced that opinion. Rough, medium length grey hair, with brown eyes and a square shaped jawline.

'... I don't know who he is.' I thought, a bit embarrassed at myself.

"Don't worry, we're getting to that." I reassured the old man, and then turned to look at everyone present inside of the room. "So, I'm going to start explaining what happens in the film."

I heard a quiet "Finally!", and then quickly turned to face the blackboard,

I wrote down the date "6th April, 1917", and then turned my back to the blackboard, now again facing the half a dozen executives and producers. I took a quick glance at Mr. King, who looked to be intently listening to me, and then looked again at the rest of the people.

I grabbed a stick from the table and pointed it at the place I had just written the date on. "That is the date on which the British and French aerial reconnaissance find out that the retreat of the Imperial German army in a sector of Northern France was actually a strategic withdrawal to the Hindenburg Line, where they'll wait for the British and pummel them with artillery. That's what drives the plot." I explained swiftly.

"Due to this discovery, General Erinmore sends two lance corporals, William Schofield and Tom Blake, to carry out a message to Colonel Mackenzie of the 2nd battalion of the Devonshire Regiment to call off a scheduled assault the next morning which would result in the death of 1,600 men, including Blake's brother Joseph, who is a lieutenant." I stopped, and took a few breaths, and then continued, "Schofield and Blake cross the no man's land to the abandoned German trenches, where Schofield injures his left hand because of a barbed wire, and thereafter they reach an underground barrack, where they discover a tripwire, which is set off by a rat and almost kills Schofield, but he is saved by Blake."

"The two escape and arrive at an abandoned farmhouse, where a shot down German plane crash into the farmhouse, nearly injuring the protagonists. The two then save the pilot from the wreckage, and Blake asks Schofield to get some water for the German pilot. When Schofield moves to get water, the German pilot stabs Blake. Schofield shoots the pilot dead, and then holds Blake as he is dying. Schofield promises to complete their mission and that he'll write a letter to Blake's mother. After Blake dies in his hand, Schofield takes his rings and dog tag, as well as Erinmore's letter, and continues the mission. On hus way, he gets a ride from a passing British unit till a destroyed canal bridge, where he part way with them, and uses the little left of the bridge."

"However, while he is crossing, he gets shot at by an enemy sniper. Schofield and sniper tgen shoot at each other simultaneously, where Schofield kills the sniper but gets knocked unconscious due to getting shot on the helmet. He walks up at night, and walks through the ruins of a town lit by flare. He evades a German soldier, and finds a French woman with an infant. The woman treats Schofield's wounds, and in return, he gave her some. Anne food and milk he found in the farmhouse from before. Realising that there isn't much time left, Schofield leaves the town, even with the woman pleading to him. Schofield the- *cough* I'm sorry *cough*."

In the middle of my explaination, I suddenly start coughing, most likely due to continuesly talking.

"It's fine." Mr. King said.

Following him, several told me to take my time and to drink water.

I did as they told, and drank some water from a glass placed on the table, and then get back to explaining.

"Uh, so where was I again? Oh right, after the ruins of the town." I took a stance where my legs were further apart, and continued the exposition.

"So, Schofield encounters some German soldiers, and he strangels one to death, but then runs away. To escape his pursuirs, Schofield jumps into a river and gets carried to a waterfall, falls down and reaches the riverbank. While traversing the forest, he finds the D company of the Devonshire Regiment, who are the last in line for the charge. He follows them to the trenches in hopes of finding Mackenzie."

I suddenly clap my hands, causing my "audience" to open and close their eyes repeatedly.

Was my explanation really that immersive?

"Alright, so now we're at the third act, which includes the largest set piece of the film."

"Realising that the trenches are too crowded to reach Colonel Mackenzie on time, Schofield decides to run on the field parallel to the trenches simultaneously as the infantry begin their charge. A bunch of artillery fire lands near him, causing a bunch of smoke and stuff, and Schofield dodges the other infantry while trying not to fall down. Anyways, after getting to the end of the trenches, Schofield forces his way through to meet Mackenzie, and gives him the letter, and reluctantly calls off the attack."

"Schofield then searches for Blake's brother and finds him. Joseph was in the first wave, and while bloodied, he was unharmed. Schofield informs Joseph about the mission he had, as well as Tom's unfortunate death and gives Joseph the rings and Tom's Dog tag. Joseph is shaken by the news, but still thanks Schofield for being there at Tom's death. Schofield then asks for permission to write to Joseph's mother, to which he agrees. Schofield then sits under a tree and looks at the photographs of his family. One of those pictures has the words 'Come Back To Us' written on it. And that's it." I said, completing the exposition du- I mean, plot explanation.

"So, what do you think?" I ask the producers and executives, but what I really wanted was Mr. King's approval.

"Seems expensive." Muttered one of the executives, whom I recognised.

"Indeed it is. But still not as much as the blockbusters of this era."

"It seems nice and all, but I seriously doubt it'll make money."

"I think so too, but what I'm really going for here are the Academy Awards. Think about it, "SkyMount's '1917' gets whatever number of awards". That's a good headline to publish in the news, no?"

"I guess so…"

I then turn to Mr. King, who looks to be in deep thought, and ask him, "What about you, Mr. King?"

"Hmm…"

I stare at him expectantly, waiting for his answer, and I'm not left dissapointed.

"... I think it can work. As Oliver said, with a war film, what we're aiming for is not necessarily financial gains, but rather the awards and prestige. That's what I think."

A huge smile creeps up on my face, as I enthusiastically thank Mr. King. "Thank you so much for your thought, Mr. King! By the way, that means that '1917' is greenlit, right?"

"Yes." Mr. King conforms.

Inside my mind, I was jumping with joy, as the film that would increase my popularity in the international stage was just greenlit.

~~~

A/N: I'm back, boys and girls!

I know that this isn't that good, but I wrote it while feeling nauseous and sick because I wrote it in a car (I'm car sick).

Which means no ch 43 this week :(

Also, I won't be updating until Friday or Saturday next week, so will until then.

Anyways, see ya later, alligator!