By Jeremy Barron
BRITAIN’S GOT TALENT INTRO AND MUSIC.
Opens onto an aerial view of London’s O2 Arena. Lots of people milling around. Mixture of medium/close up shots of excited/nervous/confident/scared/proud faces walking towards the arena. Voice over during entire scene:
There are many people looking to impress the judges
in this year’s Britain’s Got Talent.
None more so than here, in London.
Where outside the O2 Arena there are hundreds of
wannabe pop-stars, dancers and all-round entertainers
hoping for a buzzer-free audition.
Looking for that chance in a lifetime opportunity to star in the
Royal Performance Show!
At this point the cameras go inside to a huge waiting room – like an airport lounge, filled with hundreds of contestants. There is an electric hum of activity, with people practicing singing and dancing between rows of chairs. Many people are looking nervous; some are giving pep talks.
Medium shot of a quirky looking character in gothic clothing, top hat, cape, eyes closed, murmuring something to himself. It is Victor Frankenstein, sat down, with his arms resting against what looks like a hospital bed, with a huge figure lying motionlessly underneath a white cloth. It looks like Victor is praying – or perhaps casting a spell. Strewn about are electrical gadgets and machinery; a portable generator and science experiment paraphernalia – test tubes, bottles etc.
Background music comes in: Sad, moving, poignant.
Close up of Victor.
Hoping to turn his life around in this year’s competition
is Science student, Victor.
Montage of clips – some slow motion – of Victor stepping outside his mid-terraced home, with a young lady (Elizabeth), slightly overweight – gothic clothing, DMs, purple lipstick etc, struggling with the hospital bed. On the street, on a bus, tube etc. Cumbersome. Clips to be varied: smiling, hair wafting, apologetic hand gestures to members of the public…
VICTOR (voice over – monotone, dead-pan)
Hi, I’m Victor. I live in Hemel Hempstead and I think I’ve
got what it takes to win Britain’s Got Talent. I’ve always loved
science. And Michal Jackson. Ever since I was little I can remember
doing experiments. At first it was little things, like starting fires, but
after burning down the house my parents were never that keen, really.
Cut to his father, Alphonse, sat drinking a cup of tea, next to Victor on a sofa at home.
He vas alvays burning zis, electrocuting zat (chuckle).
He would drive hiz mother wild wiz hiz crazy ideaz.
(Giggling) I remember one een particular involving ze microvave,
40,000 volts and Sammy ze hamster… (turning serious, addressing
someone behind the camera) but maybe ve shouldn’t talk about that.
DEC (voice over)
Then one day, Victor’s life was changed forever.
It vas ven he started bringing zose body partz home.
(Laughing – eyeing the camera) Yeah, they weren’t, you know,
that real, were they… just, they were donated. Ha, ha. Dad…
Anyvay, hiz mother was so supportive.
She doted on little Vicky.
And ever sinze the fire, she helped wiz
all heez experiments. What were zey called?
Alcoholic Ginz and tonic?
Alchemic genetics, Dad.
ANT (voice over)
One day, whilst experimenting with his mother,
I can’t blame him. He vaz just following hiz dream.
And she… vell, my dearest vife, she should have listened
more clearly to heez instructions.
Dink the acid.
(Wide eyes) And I had no idea that the amniotic fluid would conduct
electricity quite so spectacularly either.
Never underztood ze chainsaw part though, Victor.
(Mumbles and smiles awkwardly).
Stirring music kicks in.
And ever since that fateful day, Victor has dedicated his life to his
Scientific studies, hoping that one day, he can reach beyond
the grave and bring his mother back.
Like Michael Jackson in Thriller.
Back to Victor in the O2 waiting room.
I’m going to show them what I’ve got. I’ve come too
far. I want this soooo bad. I’ve got Lizzie here to support me.
I’m gonna do this for mum. I’m gonna make dad proud.
I’m gonna thrill ‘em. (fist punch, grabs crotch – holds pose).
BRITAIN’S GOT TALENT THEATRE SETTING.
Sat in four chairs below the front of the stage are the judges. It’s a packed house, with a low murmur of excitement rippling across the audience. It falls silent and Victor edges on, slowly pushing the hospital bed. Situated in the centre of the stage is his equipment already set up. It seems to take an age for him to reach the middle. He takes a deep breath and steps forward.
Hello, and who are you?
Right. And why have you come here today, Victor?
Because I think I can win Britain’s Got Talent.
Wonderful. Tell us a bit about yourself, Victor.
Victor is visibly nervous and finds it hard to maintain eye contact.
I… er, I like science. And Michael Jackson.
A murmur of laughter from the audience.
Victor looks up.
And I’m a genius.
Lovely. Well, ready when you are. Good luck.
An anxious look off stage, then Victor prepares for his performance, connecting wires to various sockets protruding through the shrouded sheet. He clicks a few knobs, presses a few buttons and then nods to someone off stage.
The lights go down – only a shadowy electric blue is left highlighting Victor and his equipment. He spins theatrically to face the audience, with his hand outstretched clutching a huge lever. With his chest heaving up and down, he milks the moment before throwing the lever up. LIGHTNING. SPARKS. A KALAEDOSCOPE OF COLOURS and ‘THRILLER’ by Michael Jackson begins to belt out and Victor starts to moonwalk across the stage.