Feature Film Pitch
Drew Rhea
● Title: Mealtime
● Genre: psychological thriller
● World: a closed community in a rural area. Community is living in the present day, but living their day to day life as if they're decades in the past. No technology, no modern payment and exchange, growing their own food, dangerously patriarchal, etc. it is a cult
● Protagonist: Jane Doe
● Somebody wants something badly and is having difficulty getting it: Jane Doe wants to learn more about this authoritarian and bland world she has lived in her entire life. She is forced to remain uniform and subdued at risk of severe punishment. High security and rigid schedules make her explorations difficult and put her at great risk of being caught and meeting a terrible fate.
● Antagonist: Guru Kowalski and comrades
● Inciting Incident: Jane Doe is working her regular job as a servant to the higher ups in the community when she sees something she's not supposed to; a slice of pie.
● Act 1
○ Jane Doe is 16 years old and performing the tasks that she has been assigned and doing for the past 6 years. She wears conservative, covering clothing which has been picked out for her. She doesn't know that other options exist. It is mealtime, and she has taken the silver covered platters (cooked and plated and covered by someone else). She is ordered to wear nose plugs when she serves meals to the higher ups, and she has only questioned why once, when she was a child. While in training to become a servant to the higher ups, she asked one of her trainers what they were for. The trainer leaned down as if to give an answer, but averted eye contact and stood up straight as the door creaked open and one of the weapon-wielding guards appeared, bringing complaints of the dishes taking too long. She is getting ready to pick up the trays and carry them to the closed room when a fly lands on her face. She swats at her face and knocks her nose plug off. She hurries to put it back on, but she isn't quick enough, and suddenly she gets a whiff of smells she has never experienced. At first she recoils at the shock of this mixture, but takes another sniff and a sweetness creeps in, along with a tangy savoriness. Her 3 scoops of beige mush that she has eaten every day for 16 years has never smelled like this. Jane puts her nose plugs on and takes the trays to the closed dining room. The 12 men do not acknowledge her at all, as per usual. Jane distributes all of the dishes and walks slowly toward the door, listening for the sound of a lid being removed. She only hears conversation. She stays at the door and hopes that they will open their trays and she can see what they're about to eat. The men cease their conversation and stare at her. One of the men directs a derogatory comment and name to her, along with a threat of physical punishment (starvation) if she doesn't leave. She leaves, curious and determined to find out what she smelled.
● Act 2
Jane leaves the west wing of the large, bland compound where the community resides and joins the rest of the community to eat their lunch. Their clock does display time in numbers, instead it has 4 quarters of colors. Going clockwise, the colors are red, blue, green, and black. Jane serves lunch at the beginning of the red quarter, when the sun is almost directly above her head. She eats at the end of the red quarter. Mealtime is held in the cafeteria, a sterile and harshly lit area meant strictly as a place to sit and eat. She sits with her mother and other women and girls, all dressed similarly. There is very little conversation, and they are being monitored by compound “staff.” Tension is in the air and mealtime is efficient and brief. A whistle blows and everyone gets up simultaneously, forms a line, empties their trays and sets them on the dishwasher conveyor cafeteria-style. Everyone in the cafeteria leaves out of one of the four doors that corresponds with their role as determined by their ages, genders, ability to work, etc. Jane stays by the trash can, wiping a stain from her dress that was caused by her deliberately smushing food onto it.
● Act 3
Everyone files out within minutes as Jane feigns attempting to remove the stain. In reality, she is buying herself time. She glances at her surroundings and sees guards approaching her. She utilizes her youth and innocence and begins to cry and proclaim that this dress is her favorite. She begins to ramble about laundry techniques she and the other women have been taught and how she has to apply them immediately or else the dress will be ruined and she will face serious consequences from her mother and higher ups, as appearance is crucial here. She throws herself onto one of them and wraps herself around him, weeping and rambling. The male guards quickly tire of her frantic laundry talk and brush her off, telling her to be out by the time the whistle blows to begin the next work period. They all know that severe punishment will be in place should she arrive late. The guard pries Jane off of his waist as her fingers hook into his keyring weighted down by what seems to be keys for every door in the world. She finds the one she’s seen before; the kitchen key. She allows herself in and makes her way to the gourmet kitchen from which she fetches the Guru’s food each day when she serves him and his comrades. Her presence doesn't faze the cleanup crew who is hard at work, and she continues her search, relying on her unplugged nose rather than her eyes. She smells the lingering scent of what was served earlier. Sweet and rich. The dishwashers have yet to load the silver trays in the machine. She lifts a lid and discovers an undisturbed piece of chocolate cream pie. She eats the whole thing within 30 seconds and is eager to find out what other joys have been right under her nose. On the other trays lie casseroles colorful with fresh vegetables, cornbread with golden butter, and fresh greens sprinkled with a vinaigrette, which, judging by the abundance of it remaining and the strained buttons of the higher ups, seems to be one of the least desirable portions of the meal. If this is an ordinary meal for them, then the meal being prepped for tomorrow’s celebratory luncheon must be amazing. Elites are flying to the community from far away to watch the executions of this week’s traitors. The whole community will be there. The citizens, on the ground, watching in fear and taking heed to the violent warning. And Guru Kowalski, his comrades, and the elite watching from large pedestals, enjoying a fresh lunch. Earlier in the day, they found one of the men set to be executed dead in the barracks. A nice man named Jim who always asked a few too many questions. He was one of Jane’s schoolteachers years ago, and they remained close even after she left school. He always had a kind word of comfort and sometimes dangerously ambitious words of inspiration. Jim had hanged himself. Jane heard the buff guards laugh and refer to him as “the most important meal of the day” as they dragged him away and into an unmarked cart, but Jane and the other citizens were hurried back to work and essentially ordered to forget that they had just witnessed a dead friend being dragged across the floor. She attempted to shake the thoughts as best she could and her mouth began to water in anticipation of what treats were being made currently. She peels back the thick plastic curtain to look into the prep room and lay eyes on the delicacies that she would soon be serving. Expecting cakes and roast bird, Jane is horrified when she sees a human foot on the cutting board. Her eyes follow the yellowed, still figure all the way up until she meets a pair of glassy blue eyes. Her English teacher of four years stares back at her. Jane lets out a scream as a cleaver comes down on Mr. Jim’s neck, blood spewing all over as the head tumbles off of the table. She lifts a blood splattered menu from the counter and is mortified to read that tomorrow’s starting course that she will be serving is a new one: An English Breakfast.