bands_on_the_run
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
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FADE IN:
1 EXT. CITY STREET - DAY 1
We start on a busy city street downtown. Traffic bustles, as
do the hordes of pedestrians up and down the streets. We hold
outside a tall building, labelled by a huge sign outside as
"WANING BROS. RECORDS."
As we hold, a black LIMOUSINE drives into shot and screeches
to a halt. The rear passenger door facing us swings open, and
MARTYN is thrown out to land in a heap on the pavement. The
door slams shut and the car speeds off.
Martyn is 23, slim, with spiky brown hair, and a little
unkempt looking from his hit with the pavement, dressed in
the kind of clothes someone without a big wardrobe wears to
try and look smart. In his hand he clutches an open and empty
CD case, with "DEMO" labelled in marker on the front.
After a beat, another screech of tires is heard O.C, and a CD
rolls slowly past him to land at his feet. With a resigned
sigh, Martyn picks it up, places it back in the box, and
turns to look up at the tall building in front of him.
We follow Martyn as he crosses the busy road and bounds up
the steps leading to the outside of the building. The
SECURITY GUARD eyes him warily as he enters, before talking
into his radio.
GUARD
Attention all floor staff, looks
like we have another musician in
here.
Martyn is oblivious to this and continues inside.
2 INT. WANING BROS. RECORDS - RECEPTION - NEXT 2
He walks up to the front reception desk and stands there
patiently, as the RECEPTIONIST chews gum and listens to a
phone call with a bored look on her face. Martyn coughs. She
looks up, looks him up and down, and lowers the receiver from
her mouth.
RECEPTIONIST
All demo material, tenth floor.
MARTYN
How did -
RECEPTIONIST
Elevators are that way.
(points)
Thank you.
MARTYN
Who do -
RECEPTIONIST
Ask for a Mr. Barrington.
The receptionist returns to her call. Martyn heads for the
elevators.
3 INT. WANING BROS. RECORDS - ELEVATOR - NEXT 3
We ride with him to the tenth floor. Martyn frowns as he
tries to recognise the tinny muzak playing at him.
4 INT. WANING BROS. RECORDS - 10TH FLOOR - NEXT 4
As he leaves the elevator, we hold on a small security camera
positioned in the lift, its red light blinking like a tiny
evil eye.
5 INT. WANING BROS. RECORDS - SECURITY OFFICE - NEXT 5
We cut to the security office, where a guard before a wall of
TV screens is watching Martyn leave the elevator.
GUARD #2
Copy that, we have him on floor 10.
All units, stay alert.
6 INT. WANING BROS. RECORDS - CORRIDOR - NEXT 6
Cut back to Martyn, walking down a short corridor and turning
into a large open plan office area. Cubeville, 2001 style.
Lots of different pieces of music float around from numerous
radios, TV sets, internet connections and the like. The
office workers are in clumps, each group listening to
something being played to them.
Martyn stops one, an attractive OFFICE GIRL, as she walks
past.
MARTYN
'Scuse me. Where is -
OFFICE GIRL
(looks him up and down)
Mr. Barrington's office is that
way.
(points)
MARTYN
Why do -
OFFICE GIRL
It's your clothes. Trust me, we get
thousands of wannabe rock stars in
here every week, and you match the
description.
MARTYN
Thanks, I guess.
OFFICE GIRL
Don't mention it.
Martyn heads for the office.
At the door, he is about to knock when the door flies open
and another MUSICIAN, dressed surprisingly similar to Martyn,
storms out of the office. He turns in the door frame to yell
back into the room.
MUSICIAN
You corporate fat cat capitalist
pigs wouldn't know a new and
original sound if it stole your
damn wallet!
A CD labelled "DEMO" with black marker pen flies out of the
room, striking the Musician squarely in his forehead. He hits
the deck like a sack of potatoes.
As Martyn watches, shocked, two OFFICE WORKERS pop up from
their cubicles, sigh, and walk over to drag the unfortunate
musician O.S.
VOICE (O.S.)
Well?
Martyn jumps as a gruff voice calls him from inside the
office. He peers round into the room.
7 INT. WANING BROS. RECORDS - BARRINGTON'S OFFICE - NEXT 7
BARRINGTON sits behind his desk. Despite his position of
power, Barrington is not dressed like a typical executive. He
has long, wavy black hair, a lip ring and a jet black suit on
with a tasteful red tie. Barrington is tall and well built.
He blows a puff of cigar smoke out and motions for Martyn to
enter.
BARRINGTON
Come on, kid, don't waste
everyone's time. I promise I won't
stun you like I had to with that
one.
MARTYN
How did -
BARRINGTON
It's your clothes. Now take a seat
before I call security.
Martyn races into the office and hops into a seat opposite
Barrington. The door behind him swings slowly closed all by
itself. As it slams, Martyn jumps again.
BARRINGTON (cont'd)
You look nervous, kid. Don't be.
Now tell me your story.
MARTYN
(deep breath)
Well, I could -
BARRINGTON
Leave out the boring stuff.
MARTYN
'Boring stuff'?
BARRINGTON
You know, your name, the band's
name, your "sound," how you met,
that crap. Do you want a record
deal?
MARTYN
Yes.
BARRINGTON
Do you have a demo?
MARTYN
(holds it out)
Yes.
BARRINGTON
Then let's cut to the chase.
Barrington takes the CD and opens the disk tray on his
stereo, which sits beside him on top of the desk. He presses
play.
We close up on the machinery of the stereo working - the
laser glides into places, the CD begins spinning, and we
follow an electrical pulse through to the speakers and back
out into the office.
Two seconds of music are heard before Barrington pauses the
CD.
BARRINGTON (cont'd)
Is this crap?
MARTYN
No way. Top stuff, I assure you.
The CD continues. We hear two more seconds before Barrington
stops it. Martyn looks a little confused.
MARTYN (cont'd)
Aren't you going to listen to it?
BARRINGTON
I'm a busy man, son. If I spent my
time listening to every single demo
that gets handed to me, I'd die
before I was halfway through that
lot over there.
Barrington points O.S. We follow his finger to a HUGE pile of
CDs that fills one wall almost to the ceiling. It looks
extremely precarious, stacked in random piles and heaped on
top of one another. One slides out and hits the floor as we
watch - a plain CD case labelled "DEMO" in black marker.
BARRINGTON (cont'd)
Fact is, I have a trained ear that
can detect crap at a thousand
paces. Your stuff sounds okay.
Martyn breathes out, looks a little more relaxed.
BARRINGTON (cont'd)
But that's just step one. You have
a long way to go to make it here
yet.
MARTYN
Name your price.
BARRINGTON
That's what I'm supposed to say!
Are your band ready to play
tonight?
MARTYN
If you book them, they will come.
BARRINGTON
Can you make it back here with them
by...
(consults watch)
... eight tonight?
MARTYN
Not a problem.
BARRINGTON
I'm holding an A&R thing tonight
for a new idea I had. You
interested?
MARTYN
So far. Tell me more!
Barrington stands and begins to pace back and forth in front
of the windows in the back wall of his office, waving his
hands as he talks, explaining his great vision.
BARRINGTON
Four bands, each hungry for a
record deal, each hand picked by me
from the A&R showcase tonight. We
set them up with transport and send
them off round the country, going
from city to city, playing at
venues we arrange for them, each
competing against the other to earn
as much cash as possible from
ticket sales and merchandise. At
the end of the tour, the band with
the most cash gets the contract.
MARTYN
Sounds perfect!
BARRINGTON
I know. Plus, it gets my business a
crapload of free publicity and also
hands me a band proven to succeed
in the outside world and guaranteed
public support. It's every record
label's dream. Bands like that are
one in a million, so I figured I'd
find myself one of them.
MARTYN
I'm in. So is my band.
BARRINGTON
Name?
MARTYN
I'm Martyn, my band is called
Wavelength.
BARRINGTON
Welcome aboard.
Barrington leans across the desk and offers Martyn his hand.
He shakes it, standing himself.
BARRINGTON (cont'd)
Just don't play like crap tonight
and you're sorted. I like you,
Martyn, you've got good manners.
That's a rare thing in this
business.
Martyn smiles, so does Barrington. He turns and leaves as
another OFFICE WORKER runs into the room past him.
OFFICE WORKER
More problems with Cosmic Space
Vibe Babies, Sir! It seems that
Chet, the singer, has apparently
lost his mojo again and he's
refusing to play.
BARRINGTON
(mutters)
Bloody hippies...
(shouts)
Martyn! See you tonight!
(to Office Worker)
Close the door after him, man! Were
you raised in a barn?
Martyn steps outside the office as the worker swings the door
shut.
8 INT. WANING BROS. RECORDS - CORRIDOR - NEXT 8
And as the door closes...
BARRINGTON (O.S.)
But don't slam it!
The door slams. There is a cry of terror and then the sound
of hundreds of CD cases labelled "DEMO" in black marker
sliding from the wall and burying the unfortunate worker.
Martyn shakes his head and walks away with a smile. As he
reaches the end of the open plan area, Barrington forces the
door open and sticks his head out into the office.
BARRINGTON (cont'd)
Does anyone have a shovel?
9 INT. WANING BROS. RECORDS - RECEPTION - NEXT 9
Martyn steps out of the elevator and back onto the ground
floor, where he is immediately grabbed by a bunch of security
guards. He struggles as they drag him across the lobby
towards the front doors.
MARTYN
What's going on? I didn't do
anything!
GUARD #3
We had reports of a fatality on the
tenth floor.
MARTYN
What?!?
GUARD #4
Some poor office guy got flattened
by a pile of demo CDs.
MARTYN
But why me?
GUARD #3
What's that in your hand, sir?
Martyn looks down. He is holding his demo CD. It is cracked
from when it was thrown from the car earlier. He looks up at
the guards again, whose steely eyes mean trouble.
MARTYN
Now wait just a minute...
GUARD #4
Are you familiar with Paul
McCartney, sir?
MARTYN
I never - huh? Yes, why?
GUARD #3
Remember the band he made after
leaving the Beatles?
MARTYN
Yes, Wings. Why?
GUARD #4
You may be in need of some.
10 EXT. WANING BROS. RECORDS - NEXT 10
We cut to a worm's eye view of the outside of the building as
Martyn is thrown into the air by the guards. He sails past
the camera with a shout, his arms flailing, until he lands
O.S. with a thump.
After a beat, his CD flies past after him. There is a thunk
as it hits him.
11 INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - STAIRS - DAY 11
Martyn heads back home to the Wavelength HQ, which is an
average flat in an average neighbourhood. He greets various
people as he heads up the stairs to the fourth floor.
Sounds of various instruments being tuned up and cranking out
warm up riffs can be heard up the stairs. Martyn gets to the
top and heads for the door to room 401, unlocking it and
stepping inside.
12 INT. WAVELENGTH HQ - NEXT 12
The other members of the band are all here: SARAH (25, good
looking), who is performing vocal warm up exercises by the
apartments window; STEVEN (24, wiry), sat cross legged on the
floor next to a guitar amp and a stack of effects units,
fiddling around with a large circuit board; JOHN (23, tall
and gothed up), who is loading things into his keyboard stand
while absent mindedly flicking through channels on the TV;
NEIL (21, little boy lost), who is restringing his bass
guitar; and JIM (23, mischevious), whose drum kit sits in
several pieces around him as he plays furiously on the
Playstation in the other corner of the room.
The apartment is sparsely furnished but it is all these guys
need - guitars, keyboards, amps and drum kits take up most of
the space.
As Martyn enters they all stop their fiddling and turn to
look expectantly at him.
SARAH
Well?
STEVEN
Any luck today?
MARTYN
I got us something.
NEIL
Yes! What?
MARTYN
I have no idea.
JIM
This isn't going to be another wind
up, is it?
JOHN
Yeah, like that radio station
launch party.
NEIL
The pirate station?
JOHN
The one that got raided by the
police while we were playing.
STEVEN
Yeah, Sarah got confiscated.
SARAH
I was not resisting arrest!
STEVEN
No, but your outfit was very
arresting.
JOHN
Yeah, the schoolgirl thing did the
trick alright.
MARTYN
(coughs to gain their
attention)
Hem-hem.
SARAH
Sorry, you were saying?
MARTYN
I went to see Barrington at Waning
BROS.. Records today.
JOHN
Why them?
MARTYN
Lucky hunch.
JIM
So you weren't thrown out of a car
in front of the nearest record
company this time?
MARTYN
(beat)
No. Anyway, they're holding some
kind of A&R thing this evening, and
they invited us along.
NEIL
What time?
MARTYN
Their building, at 8.
STEVEN
That only gives us...
(consults watch)
... two and a half hours.
MARTYN
We've got ready in less.
SARAH
Yeah, the Philadelphia Experiment
comes to mind.
JIM
I'm not the one who wanted the full
pyrotechnics show!
JOHN
You weren't the one who got
electrocuted when the sprinkler
system shorted out my keyboards,
either...
MARTYN
ANYWAY!!
They all turn to look. Martyn holds up the (now pretty
battered) demo CD.
MARTYN (cont'd)
Mr. Barrington listened to the
demo, liked it, made us a
proposition. He's planning this new
tour or something...
DISSOLVE TO:
13 EXT. WANING BROS. RECORDS - NIGHT 13
ACCELERATED TIME LAPSE:
As night falls, the building and those around it gradually
light up for the night, and a stream of people head inside -
the other bands and their entourages.
The accelerated time shot stops as we watch the Wavelength
tour bus, a plain black minivan with the band's logo on the
side, pull up at the entrance to the underground parking lot
at the side of the building.
A security barrier and GUARD stop the bus at the entrance,
and Martyn winds the window down to address the guard.
MARTYN
Hi, we're-
GUARD #5
All bands head for the far side of
the lot.
MARTYN
How did-
GUARD #5
It's the van. In you go.
The barrier lifts and the bus drives inside.
14 INT. WANING BROS. RECORDS - LOADING BAY - NEXT 14
Martyn parks the bus next to a line of similar minivans, and
the band slide the side doors open and climb out.
A large elevator can be seen about ten metres away, and the
lift doors are just closing on another band, five guys
looking like rockers. The skin on their drum kit can be read,
and it says "Southern Voodoo."
Moments later, an old, beaten up bus coughs and splutters its
way in and parks up next to the Wavelength bus. Martyn and
Steven walk round to see who the other band is, but the van's
panels are blank.
The engine BACKFIRES a few times then comes to a stop, and
the van's doors are thrown open. SMOKE pours out from the
inside, and the members of UNDERDOG step out, coughing and
trying to waft away the fumes:
ALEX (stocky, spiky hair), SIMON (tall, bombed-out), IAN
(short and thin), ROB (skinny hippy) and MATT (average
looking).
ALEX
How old is this damn thing?
IAN
Older than your last girlfriend,
that's for sure.
ROB
Smells alright to me.
ALEX
This coming from a man who washes
in the morning by dousing himself
in baby powder...
ROB
Never had any complaints so far.
Not that anyone comes near enough.
SIMON
(emerging from the smoke)
What? What? Are we at war?
ALEX
Calm down, dude. It's okay. We're
here, not back in 'Nam.
SIMON
Right. Yes. Good. Okay then.
MARTYN
Er, hi there.
ALEX
Hey.
(comes over, shakes hands)
I'm Alex. This is my band,
Underdog.
MARTYN
I'm Martyn, this is Steve. We're
Wavelength.
ALEX
So, what's the story here? I mean,
we've heard about this cross
country tour thing, but we're still
a bit in the dark.
STEVEN
(off Rob)
So I see.
IAN
We need to make it onto the tour.
Things aren't looking too rosy for
us right now.
ALEX
Yeah, this is a one way trip for
us.
As if to compliment him, the Underdog bus groans once and
then collapses down as its wheels fall off. The bus seems to
sag visibly, its spirit leaving once and for all.
ALEX (cont'd)
Literally.
MARTYN
Here. We'll help you guys load up
and then we'll all head upstairs.
IAN
Thanks a lot.
The unloaders come over and help Underdog get their stuff
out, before the two bands and their equipment are helped into
the lift and sent up to the stage floor.
15 INT. WANING BROS. RECORDS - STAGE FLOOR - NEXT 15
The doors open and we are greeted with a large room and a
stage at one end roughly six feet off the ground. There is a
dazzling array of lights bathing the stage in several
different colours as the technicians play around and test
things out, and there is a buzz of voices and activity as the
six other bands sort themselves out.
Two EXECUTIVES, trying to dress smart and official, yet still
"trendy," walk over. The first, BLACKSHAW, wearing a Pearl
Jam "Ten" cap, shakes the hands of Alex and Martyn
enthusiastically. The other, PETE, looks on with a roll of
his eyes at his colleague and greets the other band members.
BLACKSHAW
Hello! Hello! Welcome aboard, boys.
Good to see you. Oh, and hello, er,
girl.
SARAH
Thanks.
PETE
What my colleague here is trying to
say is, put your stuff over there
and then go mingle with the other
bands. We'll sort you out a
soundcheck slot in a second.
MARTYN
Cheers.
ALEX
So how does this work?
BLACKSHAW
You each play three songs. The four
bands we like best, after a vote by
the members of the board, will go
on the tour.
STEVEN
What's the tour called?
PETE
Provisionally, "Bands On The Run."
IAN
(sideways look at Rob and
Simon)
How appropriate.
PETE
We'll tell you more about the tour
if you actually get on it.
MARTYN
Then let's get set up.
The two bands lug their equipment over towards the stage,
glancing around at the crowd of people in front of it as they
pass. The other six bands are formed into separate groups,
and then there are twenty or so executives and office staff
milling around and chatting to the bands.
From the equipment cases and drum skins, we see SOUTHERN
VOODOO again, then four goth chicks who are HAIKU, next to
four long-haired metalheads called SPITBOX, followed by five
glam rock types called DABROWSKI, then three punks who are
HAIL TO THE KING, and finally two girls and two boys who all
look like very out-of-place trendies, called REVOLUTION BABY.
Underdog and Wavelength dump their stuff down and begin
taking guitars out of cases, setting up keyboard stands, etc.
Scanning around, Martyn catches the eye of one of the girls
from Haiku, who smiles as her bandmates talk around her.
Martyn grins back and waves. She waves back. She is short and
pretty, with long, curly blonde hair. Dressed like her
bandmates in a mix of blacks and reds, she looks good.
Martyn keeps his eye on her for a beat, but then he is tapped
on the shoulder by Steven, and the two of them help Jim
unload his drum kit. Martyn glances back, but the girl and
her band are now busy talking to one of the executives.
Blackshaw and MADELINE, a glamorous female executive, step
onto the stage. Blackshaw taps one of the three microphones
set up, causing a feedback WHINE which makes everyone wince
in pain.
BLACKSHAW
Uh, ah, sorry. Well! Here we all
are then. All eight of you, ready
to find out which four will be on
Waning Bros. records' inaugural
Bands On The Run!
Blackshaw waits for the applause. After a long beat, the
suits get the message and start clapping, followed by the
bands. Blackshaw sighs with relief.
MADELINE
We'll be on our way soon. The two
bands left to sound check are...
(consults clipboard)
... Wavelength and Underdog. If
those two groups would like to make
their way over to the stage, the
rest of you are free to watch or
head for the refreshments over
there.
She points, and we follow her aim to a long row of tables
against one wall. Lots of plates of food, beer and drink are
set up there.
Without a second's hesitation, every member of the other
bands heads for the free food and beer, leaving only the
executives in front of the stage. They look at one another
for a second, then head for the food too.
JOHN
Good job. I hate people watching us
check.
ALEX
I hear ya. You never play well
straight away. You gotta warm up
first.
ROB
I got the best way to warm up!
(swigs from a bottle of
JD)
Now let's go before I can't focus
anymore!
MADELINE
Wavelength, you ready?
STEVEN
Yup.
Wavelength plug in, tune up and let rip, playing one of their
songs.
We cut over to the refreshments stand, where the other bands,
armed with their free stuff, are leaning against the tables
and watching the band play. Everyone looks impressed apart
from Dabrowksi and Southern Voodoo.
Wavelength finish and Underdog step up, playing their main
song. Again, Dabrowksi and Southern Voodoo look bored. They
want to show the execs how good they are and show up the
other bands.
Wavelength and Underdog both get a round of applause when
they finish. Blackshaw calls all the bands back over.
BLACKSHAW
Right, we're all set. First on are
Southern Voodoo, next are
Dabrowski, then Haiku, Spitbox,
Revolution Baby, Hail To The King,
Underdog and Wavelength. So let's
get started!
MADELINE
Southern Voodoo, please make your
way to the stage.
The other bands manage a round of sporting applause as Voodoo
take their guitars up and start playing. We watch one song of
each band, dissolving from one to the next and playing about
a minute of each:
MONTAGE:
A) Voodoo play a bouncy, RATM style number that goes down
well.
B) Dabrowski play a painfully waily heavy indie song that
almost gets booed.
C) Haiku hit out with a rocky goth song, punctuated by
excellent guitar solos.
D) Spitbox thrash out a fast speed metal tune which isn't
bad, but a bit too extreme for what the executives want.
E) Revolution Baby, looking very uncomfortable, turn out a
radio friendly Transvision Vamp-esque number, which is met
with very weak applause afterwards.
F) Hail To The King get through three songs in five minutes
flat, 100% pure punk.
When all the bands have finished, they take up positions
before the stage again as Blackshaw and Madeline take to the
stage again.
MADELINE (cont'd)
Thanks to everyone. The panel will
make their decisions shortly. In
the meantime, well, you know where
the free stuff is.
The crowd of musicians head back to the free food as the
suits huddle and talk to each other, with Madeline and
Blackshaw making marks on their clipboards as they talk.
After the marks have been made, Madeline takes the stage one
last time.
MADELINE (cont'd)
Okay, here are the votes. Southern
Voodoo, 20 votes. You're on the
tour. Dabrowski, 0 votes. Sorry,
guys. Haiku, 15 votes. You're on
the tour too.
Haiku whoop with delight and are congratulated by the other
bands, except Dabrowski, who sulk and start loading up with
the rest of the free food and drink to compensate themselves.
MADELINE (cont'd)
Spitbox, 8 votes. Revolution Baby,
3 votes. Hail To The King, votes.
Underdog, 15 votes. You're on the
tour. And last up, Wavelength,
votes. You're the fourth band.
Cheers. Applause. Spitbox, Revolution Baby and Hail To The
King are gracious in defeat. Southern Voodoo look smug and
pleased, like this was just a formality. Alex and Martyn
congratulate each other.
ALEX
Nice work, man.
MARTYN
You too. Now comes the hard part.
ALEX
Aah, it'll be a cinch.
MADELINE
If the four winning bands could
follow my associates upstairs to
the meeting room, my staff will
help you pack up your gear. My
condolences to the four losers.
Better luck next time.
The bands pack up their stuff. Martyn manoeuvres himself so
he can bump into the girl from Haiku he was smiling at
earlier - ALICIA. She is hefting up the bass drum from her
kit into its bag when Martyn nudges her. She almost drops it,
but he helps her grab it.
MARTYN
Whoops! Almost lost you there.
ALICIA
Thanks. I'm Alicia.
MARTYN
Martyn.
(they shake hands, more
smiles)
Good job up there.
ALICIA
You too! That's an interesting
sound you guys have.
MARTYN
"Interesting" is one word for it.
"Hard to explain" are a few more.
We're a bit too different to fit in
most places.
ALICIA
Try being in an all girl goth band.
EMILY
Tell me about it! We get two lots
of hassle - one for being girls,
and two for wearing black and
listening to Siouxsie and the
Banshees.
ALICIA
Allow me to introduce my girls.
That's Emily.
EMILY
Hi.
ALICIA
Professional man-hater and band
founder. That there is Kate.
KATE (short, redhead) waves with a quick, shy glance up.
EMILY, however, is hot and knows it. Dressed to kill in a PVC
miniskirt and bust-flattering black and white top, her
shoulder-length black hair floats from side to side as she
whips her head round, keeping an eye on everything.
ALICIA (cont'd)
She's the quiet one. And that there
is Jesse, our career girl.
JESSE is tall and another redhead, in a short black leather
coat and a long skirt underneath.
JESSE
Don't be fooled. Having a real job
just pays the bills of being a rock
star.
MARTYN
Well, my crew is Steven, Neil, Jim,
John and Sarah. Looks like we'll
all get chance to get more
acquainted on the tour.
ALICIA
I hope so.
MARTYN
Right, I've got to dash. Catch you
girls later!
ALICIA
See you soon.
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