Prologue: Running, Reading, Learning French is a story of isolation. Fearful of catching COVID-19, Iris detaches herself from society and her family while slowly descending into a state of mental unwellness. But she isn’t the only one keeping secrets, and life is only about to get worse.
Running, Reading, Learning French Written by Ben Holbrook
Copyright Ben Holbrook – 04/03/20
hello@benholbrook.com
EXT. HOLIDAY PARK, SOUTH WALES - DAWN
Shot from an elevated position, an establishing scene shows a ravishing sunrise casting a soft pink glow over a holiday park.
Gentle piano music plays. The dawn of a new day. Yet no sense of joy or excitement is present.
EXT. HOLIDAY HOME - DAWN
Another establishing shot of a beautiful mobile holiday home glowing in the early morning light. Smoke bellows from the chimney in the cold morning air. Birds sing and chirp and flutter about.
INT. BATHROOM - MORNING
Freshly showered and wearing her favourite silk robe, IRIS stares deeply into her own face in the mirror.
She's 32 and extremely attractive, though the clinical precision with which she applies her make up, which is carefully laid out around her as if it were a surgeon's utensils, suggests that this ritual is about something other than vanity.
INT. KITCHEN - MORNING
Dressed smartly in clothes fit for a day at court, IRIS stands at the kitchen sink, washing her hands in deep concentration while the kettle boils.
A bottle of bleach sits on the counter, next to the taps. She only stops when her phone timer rings - 20 seconds.
She pours herself a cup of tea, but only after rinsing the cup with boiling water.
INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
Sitting down at her pristine kitchen table, IRIS sips tea from a small white mug and slides on a pair of reading glasses with one hand, before scrolling through the news on her phone.
She appears concerned and uneasy about what she sees and puts the phone down, holding her hand nervously to her face in response.
She gets up from the table, unable to resist the urge to wash
her hands again in the kitchen sink. Her dog, CAROLA, vies for her attention.
IRIS
(playfully)
I know, 'ola. I know, darlin'... It's
time for your breakfast, isn't it?
Yeah? Are you hungry, baby girl? Come
on then!
INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
IRIS sits back down at the kitchen table and opens up her laptop.
She stares directly into the camera, but almost straight through it. She is both frighteningly pensive and completely vacant all at once.
After a short beat, she looks down and begins to type. IRIS' POV
IRIS (V.O.)
(Gently, as if we are hearing her
internal voice, while typing)
Dear Mum,
Forgive me replying by email, but I'm
afraid my phone signal isn't fantastic
where I am and I can't seem to make
calls or send texts. I'm so glad to
hear you got your prescriptions in the
end, even if you did have to wait so
long in the queue - two and a half
hours is enough to make anyone mad
(or, worse, ill).
INT. LIVING ROOM - MORNING
While IRIS's V.O. of her letter writing continues, the camera cuts to a scene of Iris from some other point in time. We don't know exactly when it is, but it is clear that is recent - perhaps the day before, or even the same or following day.
While her V.O. continues, IRIS is watching the news on TV and
2.
becoming increasingly unsettled. She is swiping at her phone frantically and checking for updates on the official health organisation website.
IRIS (V.O.)
(Gently, as if we are hearing her
internal voice)
I hope you kept your distance. You'd
never imagine it could be so difficult
for people to simply stand two metres
apart. It's hardly a lot to ask. But
everyone's so silly around here.
I was waiting to go into the
supermarket yesterday. They were
making us line up outside and only
letting in a few customers at a time.
There was one man who got out of his
van and walked as close as he possibly
could to all the people in the line as
he went to the back. Honestly, the
stupidity! As if all this is just a
game!
INT. KITCHEN - DAY
IRIS sits down on a chair in the kitchen. She is wearing colourful workout gear and looks like your typical Californian yummy mummy.
Her V.O. continues while she puts on her running shoes. But once she has got herself and CAROLA ready to go, hesitates at the door. She manages to step one foot out the door, but soon sees one of her neighbours. She waves hello, but instantly steps back inside, frightened by how close she just was to another person.
IRIS (V.O.)
(Gently, as if we are hearing her
internal voice)
You can't trust anyone these days.
It's not difficult to see how this
virus went from being just an issue
for China to being a global pandemic
in the space of, what, two weeks?
Anyhow, to answer your questions, I am
3.
doing really great, thanks. All is
well. I'm not feeling at all bored or
lonely, as you feared. Since Maria and
I called things off, I've actually got
quite used to being alone anyway. I
quite like having my own space. No one
else to worry about. And you know what
it's like here. It's so beautiful. I
feel so safe here, and at peace.
IRIS let's CAROLA out into the garden, but then rushes back to the sink to wash her hands.
INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
IRIS peaks through the curtains as neighbours stroll by. She is terrified of them (because they could be carrying the disease) and quietly draws the curtains closed, hoping they won't notice her doing so.
IRIS (V.O.)
(Gently, as if we are hearing her
internal voice)
And please don't worry about me
slipping into old habits. I'm in a
really good head space at the moment
and have plenty to keep myself
entertained and occupied.
I'm sticking to my normal routine
regardless - we both know how vital
that is for me to maintain. I still
wake up early, around 6am, even though
I don't have to go to work. I shower
and put on my face. Clean clothes
every day. I write a to-do lists. I
sip tea while watching Phil and Holly.
Yesterday they had some chap on there
doing a taste test of all the
different Easter eggs you can buy from
the various supermarkets. It's
comforting to know that at least
they're always there. Then I feed the
bear and take her out for a walk on
the beach. As you always like to say,
it really is the simple things in
life.
4.
INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS Washing vegetables and tins of food
IRIS (V.O.)
(Gently, as if we are hearing her
internal voice)
I do my home workouts and am eating
really healthy - mainly salads and
vegetarian meals. The freezer broke
again, so I can't keep meat or fish
for long. I'm drinking lots of water,
staying away from the wine. Oh, and
your little food parcels (I didn't
even see you dropping them off!) have
been very welcome treats. Those
beautiful pies are the best thing to
come out of your retirement, and that
curry was divine!
IRIS' phone rings but she panics and anxiously puts it in a drawer and closes it so as not to have to answer it.
I've also been using this downtime to
invest in myself, in my personal
development. I'm running, reading,
learning French. There's just so much
available online, and it's great that
I can Facetime with friends and stay
in touch with reality. It helps keep
you sane, don't you think? And of
course I make sure to get out once a
day for a walk and some fresh air.
It's always nice to see my neighbours
out and about, too. This whole saga
has definitely brought the best out in
people. We really are all in this
together, aren't we?
INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
IRIS plates up a full delicious meal. But she can't stand the sight of it and instantly scrapes the whole lot into a bin, which she then throws outside, before washing her hands with anti-bac.
While washing the dishes, she eyes up one of her knives and then stares out of the window towards her neighbours. It is clear that she now sees them as the enemy.
5.
IRIS (V.O.)
(Gently, as if we are hearing her
internal voice)
So, yes, all is well. Please don't
worry about me. I'm one of the lucky
ones. I'm young and fit, so even if I
was to catch it, I doubt it would
really impact me. I hope you are
feeling strong, too, and making the
most of this unique period of time to
indulge in your passions. I bet your
garden looks incredible! At least this
all happened at the onset of spring,
and not midway through winter.
INT. LIVING ROOM - DUSK
Sitting cross-legged in the dark on the floor, with candles burning all around her, IRIS rocks back and forth while clutching the knife and a bottle of bleach. Her laptop is sat in front of her.
IRIS (V.O.)
(Gently, as if we are hearing her
internal voice)
Apparently the curve is peaking right
now, meaning it's the time when the
highest number of people will be
infected by the disease. Or something
like that. Obviously it'll be a huge
struggle for the NHS, but on the plus
side I think things will gradually
start getting back to normal.
Let's keep in touch, Mum. I love you
so much and really miss you.
Your loving daughter,
Iris CLOSE UP ON IRIS.
As IRIS's letter and V.O. come to an end, she begins to mutter to herself.
6.
She is staring at her computer screen but don't know what at until the camera swings around her shoulder. It is the email to her mother. She hits send and closes the laptop.
IRIS
(chanting nervously, manically to
herself - resumes rocking)
I'm running, reading, learning French.
We're all in this together.
I'm running, reading, learning French.
We're all in this together.
I'm running, reading, learning French.
We're all in this together.
PAN OUT EXT. HOLIDAY PARK - DUSK
A closing shot of IRIS' holiday home in the hushed park emphasises her loneliness. Another shows the empty roads that connect her to everybody and nobody all at once.
THE END
FADE OUT
Please email me (hello@benholbrook.com) to discuss this screenplay.