Bringing a Painting to Life: Treatment Edition

Art inspires. There's no question about that. It leads one to wonder: "How did the first work of art come about?" Well, that's actually pretty easy. Existing art isn't the ONLY inspiration for new art. There's sunsets and horizons and mountaintops and lovers and all that, but certainly since the dawn of artistry, old art has begot new art. How many people must have seen that ambiguous smile of Da Vinci's Mona Lisa and instantly went to pick up the nearest paintbrush? Or those melting clocks of Dali or Picasso's misshapen faces? Van Gogh's night sky of stars. Michelangelo's masterpiece, David. Bottom line: Art can set the imagination running wild.

So when tasked with writing a short screenplay inspired by a painting, bringing it to life, I thought about what paintings inspired me. Of course, I'm familiar with the famous ones, but one of my favorite paintings has always been The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed by the Sun by William Blake. I suppose much of my enjoyment for the painting comes from the fact that it's heavily featured in one of my favorite films, Red Dragon, but I also have a fondness for the painting that goes beyond my love for the film. There's something about the image of that powerful deformed monster standing over that bright shining woman that clicks something inside my brain. The dragon of the painting is actually featured in several of Blake's paintings, but I chose to go with that one that's most familiar with me. The great thing about the Blake Dragon paintings is that I can never quite tell if the woman is terrified of the monster or in awe of him. It's that ambiguity that lights a spark.

So without further ado, I present my proposal and treatment for this film.

Logline: Two brothers come face to face after one betrays the other.

Treatment:

A man and a woman lie in bed together, post-sex. She's married, but not to him; to his brother. They talk a bit, pillow talk, before they hear a door slam in the house. They jump up and begin to dress. She tries to sneak him out the window. Too late. Her husband, Drake, an intimidating police officer busts through the door. He grabs his brother and forces him to the ground, knocking him out. Drake drags the woman out of the bed and she falls to the ground, taking a lamp with her. The lamp illuminates her while he stands over her brandishing a nightstick

Drake's brother wakes up, cuffed to the kitchen table. He tries to break free, but can't. He hears the woman screaming then she abruptly stops. Drake appears in the kitchen, grabs two beers from the fridge. He sets them on the table and sits across from his brother who instantly begins to inquire if the woman is dead. Instead of answering the question, Drake brings up a time in their childhood when Drake caused the death of the brother's puppy. He confesses that he let the dog go on purpose and also reveals that he's always been aware that his brother knew it wasn't an accident, but that he remained his brother anyway. He moralizes that brothers stay together, no matter what. Forgiveness is always possible.

The brother takes this in, but once again asks about Drake's wife. Drake sets him free and allows him to walk back into the bedroom. We see the brother enter, but we only see his reaction of shock, never an actual shot of the woman. She may be alive, brutalized, or dead. We'll never know.

Relation to the Painting:

Instead of actually incorporating the painting directly into the film,  I wanted to make use of the image of a powerful dark figure standing over a helpless figure of light. It's that moment where he is standing over her (and the reason for the fall of the lamp) that illustrates this. I took that image and let the story grow around it. I enjoy the themes of betrayal, forgiveness, and confession that go along with the story. I'm also a huge fan of the suspense principle that the human mind will do much more terrible things to people in dire situations if we don't show the gore of it all than the best Hollywood blood and guts could ever do. I always go for showing a person's reaction to horror rather than the horror itself. The ambiguous ending plays with the mind. Does Drake talk of brothers forgiving each other because he's showing his forgiving nature and therefore has spared his wife? Or is his talk of forgiveness a plea for forgiveness for what he has just done? I leave every aspect of the story up to the audience.