Captured Image

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Genre: thriller

Logline:

A fashion photographer, misguided by unrequited love, devises a scheme to have himself and his dream girl kidnapped together, but things go awry when she turns out to be a congressman’s daughter, very different than his imagined fantasy, and his deceitful fantasy unravel into treachery, double-cross, and murder.

Theme: Be careful what you wish for. Things aren’t always what they seem.

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FADE IN:

TV SCREEN – HOME VIDEO TELEPHOTO

Pretty YOUNG WOMAN leaving a building; walking down a street; sitting at outdoor cafe.

DETECTIVE MEEKS (O.S.)

So, this is your pick of the week? My kid shoots better than this.

DETECTIVE ANDERSON (O.S.)

For your sake, I hope the hell not. It came in anonymous this morning.

Profile of woman’s face. She looks almost catatonic. A HAND wearing a CUSTOM RING strokes her face.

DETECTIVE MEEKS (O.S.)

Nice ring.

She lies face down nude on a bed in a dimly-lit room. Her arms are handcuffed above to the headboard. A NUDE MAN sits on the far side stroking her hair, his face in shadow.

DETECTIVE MEEKS (O.S.)

Aw, shit, Charley. I don’t want to see this. I have a daughter this girl’s age.

DETECTIVE ANDERSON (O.S.)

Wasn’t my idea, Hank.

MODULATED COMPUTER VOICE (V.O. VIDEO)

All women carry the legacy of trouble. There is conspiracy behind alluring eyes and sacred lips. Perfect sighs, perfect silence.

The man goes behind her, pulls her up on her knees.

MODULATED COMPUTER VOICE (V.O. VIDEO)

Arms that enfold like angel’s wings, dedicated protectors, but lovely lies. We lay mute to the influence, satiated in our mad desires, brought on from primal whispers.

 

INT. POLICE STATION – DETECTIVE’S OFFICE – DAY

DETECTIVE CHARLEY ANDERSON sits behind his desk, while DETECTIVE HANK MEEKS, in the guest chair, watch the TV monitor. Meeks turns away.

DETECTIVE MEEKS

Oh Christ, I’ve seen enough. Is that Poetry? What the hell is that?

DETECTIVE ANDERSON

It gets worse.

DETECTIVE MEEKS

Is this a porno ring? What?

MODULATED COMPUTER VOICE (V.O. VIDEO)

Women hold my spirit hostage. Their breath in my ears entice promises…

(beat)

Promises they don’t keep.

DETECTIVE MEEKS

Oh, please. This guy-

SUDDENLY, a GUN SHOT blasts from the TV speakers. Detective Meeks jumps, whips his head back to the monitor. He turns ashen. Anderson clicks off the TV.

DETECTIVE MEEKS

What the fuck? Is this real?

DETECTIVE ANDERSON

You tell me.

 

EXT. SHOPPING MALL – OUTDOOR CAFE – DAY

 

BEGIN SHOT THROUGH 35MM SLR CAMERA – TELEPHOTO

CLOSE on ATTRACTIVE WOMAN, mid-twenties. She moves slightly one way, then another, thoughtful, pensive, paying no attention to the camera.

DYLAN (O.S.)

That’s it, that’s it. A little more to the right… good.

The shutter clicks, momentary FREEZE FRAME before continuing.

DYLAN (O.S.)

Now, look up, look up…

She looks down.

DYLAN (O.S.)

No, up. Up.

She turns away, goes out-of-focus.

DYLAN (O.S.)

Ahh.

The VIEW zips across space, finds ANOTHER LOVELY WOMAN.

DYLAN (O.S.)

Yes, yes, yes. The lunchtime ceremony of seductive shopping angels as they give their purchasing power a nutritional break.

CHAS (BRITISH ACCENT) (O.S.)

Shopping angels. That’s a new one.

The LENS scours the area for ANOTHER PRETTY FACE, finds one.

DYLAN (O.S.)

Where else in history have the pleasures of the heart been replaced with capital gain by both sexes at the same time? This is very destructive. It’s hard to embrace visions of love if everyone is caught up in the nine-to-five.

CHAS (O.S.)

You really believe all that?

 

END SHOT THROUGH 35MM SLR CAMERA

DYLAN brings camera down on table across from CHAS. Both late 20s, they sit amidst the vagaries of SUMMER SHOPPERS.

DYLAN

(tired)

At times it seems true enough. Does it matter, anyway?

CHAS

Nope, I guess not.

DYLAN

(self-absorbed commentary)

But, you know. I’m caught up in it. I love their beauty and their pain. I love the way smiles flash across their faces when they think of something naughty.

CHAS

You’re bloody over the top.

DYLAN

I’m dyin‘ here, Chas. I want more than a captured image. I want someone I can touch beneath the glamour. More than just seductive levels.

(searches the sky)

I need expressions of Paris in a smile. I need abandoned inspiration from a soft word. I need-

CHAS

A
girlfriend.

DYLAN

(back to earth)

Were it so simple.

CHAS

You’ve got a plethora of babes running through your studio every day.

DYLAN

Most are just gum-chewing Madonnas and I trap a moment of their history in here as they race to be recognized.

(taps camera)

CHAS

(laughs)

Doesn’t seem to have stopped you from trapping some of them in the changing room, though.

DYLAN

(laughs with him)

Just a trade of desires. But, you’re getting the wrong impression-

CHAS

Well, in the eight months I’ve known you-

DYLAN

Look, these women are my life’s blood. Not just for income, but for spiritual necessity.

(beat)

At least, they used to be.

CHAS

You take it all too seriously, Mate.

Dylan studies Chas, shakes head, gives last look around, grabs camera, and gets up.

DYLAN

Ready?

CHAS

Always.

 

INT. DYLAN’S PHOTOGRAPHY STUDIO – DRESSING ROOM – DAY

BEGIN CONSUMER CAMCORDER VIEW

CU on FEMALE LIPS with bright pink lipstick being applied.

FEMALE VOICES TALK in BG.

LIPS

Does this excites you? Is this what gets you off?

CHAS (V.O.)

These are things that should be discussed in private.

LIPS

(demurely)

Do we use words in this discussion?

CHAS (V.O.)

No.

LIPS

Good…

MODEL ONE (O.S.)

Hey, Monica? Can I use your lip gloss?

LIPS

Help yourself.

CAMCORDER ZOOM OUT

From lips to reveal SHOT reversed in a large make-up mirror and the small dressing room overflowing with lithe FEMALE BODIES leaning over one another, vying for viewing space.

MODEL ONE

What’s your plans with this video, Chas? A little late night entertainment with Rosy Palm and her five sisters?

Some GIRLS laugh.

CHAS

Just sort of a diary, you know. A contemporary journal.

MODEL ONE

You sure it’s not a resume? How’s this for an entry?

She does a little spin with a sexy body undulation, ending with a quick flash of one breast. Dylan enters.

DYLAN (O.S.)

Hey, listen girls. Charlotte’s going to do the make-up on- Chas!

VIEW ARCS AROUND

To DYLAN. His hand pushes the CAMCORDER away.

 

END CONSUMER CAMCORDER VIEW

RESUME NORMAL VIEW

DYLAN

Do you think you can stop recording your goddamn life story long enough to earn a living in it, for Christ’s sake?!

CHAS

Everything’s ready-

DYLAN

You’re not.

Chas holds up hands, giving in.

CHAS

I’m on it, it’s happening.

He brushes past Dylan and out the door as CHARLOTTE enters.

DYLAN

(impatient)

Char, try some of the things we discussed on Monica and Julie. Do what you can with the others.

Monica flashes Dylan a bright pink smile.

DYLAN

Jesus, Monica! This is a black and white shoot! Would it be too much trouble for you to let the make-up artist do her job?

She gives Dylan a fake smile as he exits.

 

INT. DYLAN’S PHOTOGRAPHY STUDIO – DAY

A confusion of beautiful MODELS fill the spacious studio, flowing, strutting, from one small CHATTERING group to another, while others lean leisurely, luxuriously, back against the walls, keeping to themselves.

Some fill out paperwork, others peer into hand mirrors putting on make-up.

Dylan goes to the far end where backdrop paper is unfurled from ceiling hangers. Various props stand to either side. Strobe lights and camera aim at the empty paper.

Chas waits, light meter in hand. They look at one another and Dylan gives him a wink, then turns back to the studio full of bored beauty.

DYLAN

Who’s first?

 

BEGIN MONTAGE

Strobe LIGHTS POP as models turn enticingly from pose to pose, putting out all their energy in an effort to beguile the camera.

Some SHOTS are through the 35 MM CAMERA. When the shutter clicks, the image FREEZES and goes B & W.

After several shots, the STILL IMAGES begin to flow by as the VIEW changes to that of a COMPUTER MONITOR, and a DIGITAL CONTACT SHEET.

END MONTAGE

 

CHAS (V.O.)

Well, what do you think?

DYLAN (V.O.)

(deadpan)

They’re all luscious.

CHAS (V.O.)

Come on. There has to be one. At least one.

INT. DYLAN’S PHOTOGRAPHY STUDIO – OFFICE – DAY

Dylan looks up blankly.

CHAS

I hope you find something soon, son. Nerves are fraying around here.

DYLAN

Like whose? Yours?

CHAS

Yours, my friend. And everyone that comes near you lately.

Dylan stops, caught off guard, then stares back at the screen of changing images.

DYLAN

I’ll take it under
advisement.

Chas puts his finger over a face on the monitor screen, bringing the imagery to a halt.

CHAS

What about Stacy or Tracy, whatever. You asked her to come back.

DYLAN

Tiffany. Yeah. She has a great look. I’m going to try the angel with her.

CHAS

Yeah, good choice. You could go the limit with that one. She likes to be experimental.

Dylan spins in his chair, gawking up at Chas.

DYLAN

What? Do you toss every crumpet that comes through my studio?

CHAS

(smiles)

Well, someone has to take on the responsibility.

DYLAN

Look! This shit’s got to stop. This is a fucking photography studio, not a goddamn brothel!

CHAS

Hey. You’re looking for your unique angle and I’m looking for mine. Just how long do you think it will be before the agencies catch on to these bogus go-sees of yours?

Dylan turns back to monitor.

DYLAN

They’re not all bogus.

Dylan uses his finger to flick the images by.

CHAS

Just the last three, in which no less then fifty girls have come through here.

DYLAN

It’s about possibilities, not carnal conclusions. I thought you understood that.

CHAS

Hey, suit yourself. I’m not complaining. Carnal conclusions have been just fine for me.

SUDDENLY, the bright studio images on the monitor change to PEOPLE at a BUS STOP. Then, a CU of an incredible WOMAN, naturally beautiful, long dark hair, full lips, so different than the models in the other pictures.

Dylan palms the screen, stopping the flow of images.

DYLAN

(looks up)

Hey, who’s this?

CHAS

Who?

Squints at screen.

CHAS

Oh. I don’t know. Just some girl I shot at a bus stop on 21st Street the other day.

The woman (early 20s) is captured in various views of waiting, boarding the bus, and sitting in the bus window.

DYLAN

Twenty-first and what?

 

 
 

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