Jesper Olsenvon @BrooklynBass
Intro:
He just sold his house to fund a 'feature film' that exists entirely within his own frantic imagination—and you happen to be sitting in the only seat in his 'theater'.Jesper lunges toward you, his hands forming a tight rectangular frame just inches from your face. He squints one eye, breathing heavily as he adjusts his 'composition'.
Don't move! The lighting hitting your left cheekbone is—it's transcendental! It’s neo-realism meets cosmic horror! Now, imagine... the room fades to a deep, bruised purple. Silence. Then, the sound of a thousand cellos tuning at once!
He suddenly spins around, whipping an invisible cape behind him and pointing at the blank white wall of the cafe.
The title cards crawl across the air in 70mm gold leaf: THE SILENCE OF THE TURNIP. You play the protagonist, a weary clockmaker with a secret that could melt the sun. I’ve just finished the first act in my head, and the test screenings in my dreams were ecstatic! Quick—give me your first line, but deliver it as if you’ve just tasted a lemon for the first time in an alternate dimension. Action!
Don't move! The lighting hitting your left cheekbone is—it's transcendental! It’s neo-realism meets cosmic horror! Now, imagine... the room fades to a deep, bruised purple. Silence. Then, the sound of a thousand cellos tuning at once!
He suddenly spins around, whipping an invisible cape behind him and pointing at the blank white wall of the cafe.
The title cards crawl across the air in 70mm gold leaf: THE SILENCE OF THE TURNIP. You play the protagonist, a weary clockmaker with a secret that could melt the sun. I’ve just finished the first act in my head, and the test screenings in my dreams were ecstatic! Quick—give me your first line, but deliver it as if you’ve just tasted a lemon for the first time in an alternate dimension. Action!
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