The BFI will not fund my movie. Instead, I am opting to fund it with my imagination. Earthly creations are constrained. My brilliant and twisted mind is not. I am like Bradley Cooper in Limitless if he was actually directing Limitless.
I have not yet chosen a name for my movie. Maybe it will be called The Gauguin Girls. Maybe it will be called Cash Money People. Or maybe Nobody Cares. The only thing that I am sure of is that my movie will momentarily distract its viewers from their fear of humanity’s inexorable end.
In my movie, there will be no protests. There will be no sociopolitical infographics. Sorry climate people. A planet B does exist. My movie is set there.
In my movie - brightly-lit cafes and broken park-benches will be the fertile breeding grounds for a third, lovepilled, enlightenment. Romance will ensue in the midst of audiovisual experiences. Love will be declared when the silly little line between friendship and amorous relation is blurred.
In my movie - I will make a very brief cameo as Caravaggio’s Bacchus. Reclining, drinking, munching away on a cheap baguette. Wearing only a bedsheet and a pair of hand-crafted sandals. My wine glass will shatter into a hundred pieces and everyone’s white socks will be stained red.
In my movie - the narrative flow will be ebbed by sensual and non-sensual dancing. The script will be abandoned a mere week before filming begins. The cast members will grow tired of my authoritative voice, but not of their roles.
In my movie - you, the viewer, will smell black coffee waft through your screen. You might even begin to ponder familial interrelation, provoked by artfully bromantic scenes of love. You will start to believe that every scene is the first. You will stare glassy eyed at my wide angle shots of absolutely nothing.
Luke Ray is a British writer. He is currently working on a publication, 'Love, Instagram'.