The Context:
Mosquito ended up being my follow-up assignment after Pinky Promise and it too went on to receive a first-class grade. The brief was just the same as before: A script feasible for third-year film students to make into a short film, but this time we had to incorporate dialogue into the mix.
Unlike Pinky Promise which came to me easily, Mosquito was more of a struggle. I wanted another dark and unsettling Twilight Zone esqué story as that seemed to work for me. My first attempt was one of a widowed husband who fishing one day, uncovers his wife reborn as a monster mermaid. This script had problems with its tone however along with being unnecessarily vague. (Maybe I’ll fix it up and post it here someday). The next idea was of neon-noir boxing short but that proved unfeasible for a third-year film.
Director: Ron Oliver. Goosebumps: Say Cheese and Die. (1996).
Finally came Mosquito. I was playing around with an adjustable camera lens and it made me think of the extending/retracting of a mosquito proboscis, that was how the title ‘Mosquito’ was born. I knew I wanted to link cameras and mosquitos so to speak but this was all I had to go. That is until I re-discovered an old episode of Goosebumps: Say Cheese and Die, starring the one and only Ryan Gosling. I didn’t know whether it was the story of a cursed camera that predicts disaster or seeing my man-crush’s boyish charm that did it, but either way inspiration struck and I had my story.
The Script
(If viewing on your phone, I’d recommend reading horizontally especially for sections of dialogue)
EXT. TRAFFIC JAM ON MAIN ROAD. NIGHT
From a DSLR display, we see hexagonal shapes distort from lights of oncoming traffic, appearing as insect eyes.
EXT. MANOR HOUSE. NIGHT.
A large house sits in the background. It is difficult to make out. A black car sits still. Doors wide open, a pink light glows from within.
EXT. ABANDONED CAR PARK. NIGHT.
A strong pink light illuminates a dark wall. A fox crawls in and smells some discarded rubbish. Suddenly startled, it stares at us before running away. The screen fades to black as the title ‘Mosquito’ is left behind in a neon pink font.
EXT. TOWN CENTRE. NIGHT.
The street is besieged in darkness. An alleyway is bordered by two tall brick walls. Decorated with an array of small run down shops, it leads on to a nightclub. A sign, doused in neon pink engulfs several young women who queue below it. Steam vents from a wall, painted by the strong light. We hear faint music and chatter from the clubs entrance.
A closer view of the women is established through a DSLR camera display. A zooming sound becomes audible as the image draws closer to a particular girl in the group, bleached pink hair. This is ELLA, early 20’s. Beautiful, tall and slim, she wears a stylish black dress.
She turns, Almost to face the camera. The cameraman swings round, using the wall as cover. Now removed from the display’s image, Ella gazes around, puzzled and paranoid. She turns back to her friends.
EXT. STREET. NIGHT.
Ella walks home. The street is derelict beside the occasional white street lamp. A slight breeze sways the impressive plethora of trees which hug it. All is quiet beside the gentle rustling and Ella’s own footsteps. Suddenly she stops and looks back.
ELLA
Hello?
Makeup smudged, the wind blows through Ella’s hair. The empty street dissipates into nothingness while trees blow ominously. Nothing to reward her paranoid gaze, she turns back to see a car pulled up ahead of her, even though there hadn’t been so much as a sound to signal it’s arrival. A long black rectangular classic car, something you’d see in an 80’s American film. Voracious vivid neon pours out of every window. She moves to the other side of the pavement, muddying her shoes on the neighbouring grass in the process. She passes the car. But someone calls her.
Startled, Ella spins round to see the front window closest lowered and a woman looking at her. That woman is FRANCINE, she’s slim, dressed in vintage clothing has short brown hair and appears to be in her mid 20’s. Ella smiles apprehensively.
FRANCINE
Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.
ELLA
It’s alright.
Silence.
FRANCINE
Ah, this is for you.
Francine extends her hand: she’s holding out a business card. Closer now, it’s difficult to tell just where the pink light of the car emanates from. Ella takes the card; It has a butterfly emblem and says “model agency” underneath, it also includes an address and phone number, along with her name: Francine.
ELLA
I uh-I’m not a model.
FRANCINE
Hm? Is that so? That’s a surprise. Well, my boss will definitely be interested. Why don’t you stop by tomorrow?
Francine smiles goodbye, pulls the window back up and drives off almost silently leaving a shocked Ella looking at the butterfly upon the card.
INT. CAR. NIGHT.
Ella lowers the card. Apprehensively she looks out of her window to see a large manor house. Surrounded by trees with a small pond, a slabbed path leads inward. Pink light beckons from its many windows. A smile erupts upon Ella. With excitement, she puts the card in her pocket and vacates. She ascends the many steps before her as we notice a fly fidget in the spider web of her car’s rear mirror.
EXT. MANOR HOUSE. NIGHT.
Ella nears the entrance of the impressive home. She climbs the few steps to the magnificent move door. A yellowed porch light shines down. She takes a deep breath and reaches for the carved dragonfly door knocker. Clasping the iron she attempts her first knock.
The large door swings open, allowing bright ambient light to escape. There Francine stands, smartly dressed once more.
FRANCINE
Ella hello! Welcome, welcome.
Francine beckons her in, closing the door behind her.
INT. MANOR HOUSE. NIGHT.
FRANCINE
I’ll let my boss know you’re here.
Francine walks away, taking the sound of her high heels with her. Ella is captivated by the surroundings of the stately home. The home is grand and astute, much of it detailed in solid deep walnut coloured wood, with deep purple wallpaper. Two staircases lead above to the second floor, A crystal chandelier hangs between, as it exudes bright light.
To the side of the door is a coat hanger and beside it an old jacket and steel walking frame. A large black fireplace is spotted along with a grandfather clock, amongst exquisite loungers and other furnishings. As Ella continues to look up, we notice a woman staring into a mirror in the background as Francine talks to her, this is HEATHER.
Ella notices many framed black and white photographs of beautiful women encircle the room. Dressed with famous fashion trends across time, makeup perfected. However in between each of these photos hangs framed taxidermied insects, to which Ella looks on questionably.
FRANCINE
And here she is.
Ella turns to face a brunette woman, late 40’s. Smartly dressed in somewhat dated clothing, she appears somewhat glamorous.
HEATHER
Hello, there dear.
ELLA
It’s lovely to meet you.
Ella extends her hand. Heather grasps it and shakes.
HEATHER
The pleasure’s mine I assure you. Shall we get started?
Heather and Francine lead Ella off.
INT. MANOR HOUSE. NIGHT.
The lights from the chandelier now absent. The room has become fitted like a studio. A range of pink and blue lights and other equipment are aimed at Ella. Ella wears a vintage white and black dress. Her make-up has also been restyled along with her hair.
There is some clutter. A neon pink flamingo light, a range of old china and other old and broken furnishings brood like gathering dust in the corners of the room. Francine adjusts one of the lights.
HEATHER
Lovely, thanks, you may go.
Francine lets go and looks to Heather. A snide smile creeps up her face as she enacts a slight curtsy. Before leaving the room, however, she stops to switch on a vintage record player. Equipped with a megaphone, soft electronic music begins to churn out of the dilapidated machine.
Ella looks toward the dated contraption nervously as Heather brings out a worn purple leather case. She blows off the dust before flicking the two silver latches which bind it. With great care, she pulls out a very old Linhof Technika camera.
Despite its age, it appears in great condition as she fixes a lens and fastens the strap of the device over her neck. The camera appears peculiar to Ella. Its purple folding protrusion extends out toward her, resembling an insect proboscis.
HEATHER
Come now.
Ella shakes off her nerves as Heather begins to move around Ella for the optimal angle. Ella attempts to pose appropriately.
HEATHER
That’s nice, move your chin down.
That’s nice, move your chin down.
We hear the camera zoom and click. The actions continue.
HEATHER
Just above the lens dear, no that’s-
Heather stops and walks closer to Ella, who becomes startled.
HEATHER
Close your eyes for me.
ELLA
O-okay.
Ella nervously obeys. Heather grabs the back of Ella’s neck and puts her forehead to hers. She speaks softly, her tone appears misleading as if repressing some darker emotion, however.
HEATHER
Passion and intensity, say it back to me.
ELLA
P-passion and intensity.
HEATHER
Keep repeating that over and over in your mind okay?
ELLA
Okay.
Ella blushes. Heather readies her camera once again. Ella sets another pose in motion.
HEATHER
Yes, more of that!
Ella enacts another pose, flicking her hair back.
HEATHER
Lovely dear.
A crooked smile draws on Heather’s face. Her rotten teeth go unnoticed by Ella.
INT. HEATHER’S STUDIO. NIGHT. (MONTAGE)
Ella acts several more professional poses against the lounger. Music continues. Heather offers praise as Ella’s photos only increase in quality. The movement between the women becomes a sort of surrealist dance. Heather becomes more and more excitable, letting out a wicked laugh. The shoot comes to a close with one last flash of the camera.
CUT TO WHITE.
EXT. MANOR HOUSE. NIGHT.
Mosquitoes and gnats fly around the pond under the moonlight.
INT. Dark ROOM. NIGHT.
Red lights buzz on. Swallowed in blood red light, a droplet of water ripples, falling into a tray with a developing photo. The sink sits on an island, amongst other equipment. A long metallic sideboard wraps around the room with a mirror to accompany. Multiple trays with developing photos cover it.
Two strings intersect from the ceiling. Hands on the counter, Heather stares at herself, miserable. She begins to pull at her face as we begin to see it in ageing detail.
She takes a breath. A smile wavers as she stares into the liquid of a tray, drenched in red. Her image blurred from the water, she submerges a pair of tongs and pulls out a developing photo. She shakes it under the light.
INT. MANOR HOUSE. NIGHT.
Ella sits on a lounger, gazing around the room. Lights still on. She gets up and walks over to a framed photograph.
INT. DARK ROOM. NIGHT.
Heather hangs up the developed photo of Ella upon one of the lines of string to dry.
INT. MANOR HOUSE. NIGHT.
Ella examines the photograph, it shows Heather pictured with a model. Something catches her eye, she looks closer, a date. October 1928. She bends over in pain, trying to catch her breath.
INT. DARK ROOM. NIGHT.
Another photo develops in the water.
INT. MANOR HOUSE. NIGHT.
Ella keels over and vomits. She tries to get back up but struggles as her arms tremble.
INT. DARK ROOM. NIGHT.
Another photo is hung amongst several others.
Another photo is hung amongst several others.
INT. MANOR HOUSE HALL. NIGHT.
Ella clings to a built-in rail to help herself through a hallway. POV: Her sight blurs, tears run down her face as she desperately wheezes and pants.
INT. DARK ROOM. NIGHT.
Another photo of Ella becomes clear.
INT. MANOR HOUSE HALL. NIGHT.
Ella tries a small door to no avail. She continues on until a large purple door comes into focus. She attempts the handle, but again, it’s stiff. She stops to catch her breath, continuing to deteriorate she musters some energy to try again. With all her might, she pushes at the door. With one last heave it comes unstuck and swings open.
INT. GOLD ROOM. NIGHT.
POV: She falls but manages to grab the side before landing face first.
The large room is extravagant, to say the least. Painted in a rich gold colour, red banners hang from the ceiling along with several small chandeliers. A large rug, patterned in deep purple hexagonal shapes coats the wooden floor. Inside several dinner tables are set up with candles and red dinner clothes. At each table sit several old women. Some play cards.
INT. MANOR HOUSE. NIGHT.
We see photos of the young models in the hall.
INT. GOLD ROOM. NIGHT.
POV: Some drink tea, others sleep.
INT. MANOR HOUSE. NIGHT.
We see more photos of the young models.
INT. GOLD ROOM. NIGHT.
POV: Some watch an old television set in the corner of the room. At the back of the hall, a lotto machine can be seen, sitting still as soft old music plays.Francine walks over to Ella.
FRANCINE
Are you okay Ella?
We now see Ella, old, haggard and hunched. Her hair a pale pink, she has the appearance of someone in their 70’s. She looks confused.
ELLA
Wh-wh-where a-am I?
FRANCINE
Oh dear, you must be lost. Come now, lets get you back to your table, shall we?
ELLA
Y-yes?
Y-yes?
Francine gives her a walking stick and wraps her arm around the hunched over Ella, slowly leading her to a group of old women sitting around a table.
FRANCINE
Here you go girls, a new friend.
The group of old women look up at her warmly.
OLD WOMAN 1
H-hello.
OLD WOMAN 2
Nice to meet you luv.
Francine leaves Ella with a look of remorse.
INT. DARK ROOM. NIGHT.
The camera sits to the side. Developing photos of Ella hang from the string. A drop of liquid falls, appearing as blood under the light. Heather stares at herself in the mirror and examines her face, which is now elastic and youthful. Heather appears as a young, beautiful girl in her early twenties.
She runs a hand through her long glossy brunette hair. She pouts, then smiles to reveal a set of beautifully white teeth. She giggles and begins to pose proudly between the two sets of hanging photographs. They almost resemble wings protruding from her back.
FADE TO BLACK.
THE END.
(Header photo courtesy of @jmckeehen)