This is a Movie Script
Act One—The Ride Over:
Six grizzly-looking men gather their things, kiss their wives and children goodbye, and start their journey on horseback to a cabin in the middle of remote Colorado, or Utah, or most likely Wyoming. Maybe Alaska.
A black bear stands on all-fours, sniffing through and munching on a patch of dandelions. James Franco mounts his horse and stares at the black bear for a moment. The bear stares back at James Franco, then shakes its head, makes rumbling bear-sounds, spews a little bear slobber, and gets back to eating those dandelions. James Franco tips his cap to the bear, spurs his steed, gives a “YEE-HAW,” and gallops off into the distance. Thereafter, we watch the other five men as they, in their respective manner—as per respective circumstance, ready themselves for their journey to the cabin.
Once all the men begin their horseback journey, everything becomes all of a sudden very strictly, very stunningly, visual. There is absolutely no dialog. The lack of sound is obvious. There are significant portions of total silence, save a squawking bird or babbling creek. Many camera angles. This horse-riding portion lasts anywhere from 7-17 minutes. As the men ride, and in-between the silence, there are plenty of galloping sounds. James Franco stops off to take a piss in a river and scratches his jean-covered ass crack. Repeat clips of the same imagery: spurs click-clacking and knocking against horse torsos; various distance aerial views over galloping horses, rushing rivers, and mountainscapes; up-close-and-personal face-shots of these six manly men; up close galloping horse feet; birds chillin in trees; ground-level, break-neck views of mountain sides. We learn a decent amount about these characters through their clothing, the swagger of their steed, the exactness of their equestrianship, and, of course, by the places they ride in from—though this beginning is not so verbally revealing. The men arrive to a densely-wooded mountain cabin all on the same day, non-simultaneously. Except for the one man who has already been there two for days. This person has a club foot. Aside from the club-foot guy, whose horse is already tied up, as the men arrive, we don’t see them dismount their horse; we only see a 1.5 second cut of the horse after it’s been tied to the may-pole styled hitching post. There is a new 1.5 second cut every time a horse is added. The horses become inexplicably tangled amongst themselves in this may-pole setup. For the final person that arrives (James Franco), we actually see this person dismount and, in silence, tie up his horse.
James Franco unhooks his necessities from the horse and walks into the wooded mountain cabin where he sits down in roughly cut wooden chair. Same as all the other men have already done…
Act Two—The conversation:
James Franco asks for tea. The club foot guy struggles getting up, clubs on over to an open-flame stove, sets it to an appropriate temperature, and waits. The five other men talk amongst each other, still in their chairs. Eventually the club foot guy brings James Franco his tea in a very tiny, very eloquent glass, spilling much of its contents along the way. Somehow, eventually, the conversation turns to that of cannibalism. The group collectively decides that they want to know what it is like to kill, and eat, another human-being. They decide that this is something they need to try, and they decide they will try it right now, in fact. In order to decide who among them is going to be eaten, they determine to draw straws—the shortest straw volunteering to be killed and eaten. End scene with view of some object/container on the table before them all, conveniently very useful for pulling straws.
Act Three—Drawing the straw and subsequent persuasion:
Each man, from the object/container on the table before them which is conveniently very useful for pulling straws, pulls a straw. Table-centered image of each man holding his straw in front of his face, inspecting its length. The men compare their straws. One is the obvious loser. This man holds the straw in front of his face, trying to come to terms with the magnanimity of his tiny straw. You can see the look in his eyes change from non-belief, to disbelief, to fear. He objects to the entirety of what they had all just earlier agreed. He says things like “but, we were kidding,” and “This was just a joke,” and “I—I cannot. You cannot possibly actually think I was being serious,” and “You guys—I mean—come on—none of us were being serious.”
The five men reassure this sixth person that they were, in fact, very serious—the whole time. And that they still are. The loser protests, intensely. Threatens to leave. He walks outside. Cut to POV of his horse somehow standing on top of the may-pole, irretrievable. The loser comes back inside. The other five men do not force this losing sixth into the performance of his bargain by force, in fact, they promise him they will not use force to achieve his compliance. These five men, rather, attack the sixth’s ethical standing. The five tell the loser that it is his moral duty to live up to the cannibalism, that he must comply with his offer. There is plentiful philosophical dialog. Mentionings of great cannibalists of the past, and the quoting of men who look down on men who break their promises. Down on the welchers of bets. Eventually, after hours of this, the losing man concedes.
Act Four—The cookout, cleanup, and roll out:
Camera rotates from man-to-man just like those basement scenes from That 70’s Show with the men after all chewing different body parts of the losing man. The losing man’s uncooked head is resting on one of the chairs. The rotating camera stops and focuses on the served head a moment before rotating to the next man, eating the deceased. As the camera rotates around again to the losing man’s head-in-a-chair, the eyes are, this time around, noticeably removed. The camera rotates to the next man who is placing one of those eyeballs into his mouth. We watch him bite down and hear the eye pop between his teeth. Aqueous fluid drips down his breaded chin. He swipes himself clean with a plaid shirt sleeve. The camera rotates to the next man who, on camera, swallows, burps a loud burp, sighs, saying; “I’m still hungry.”
Cut to the sixth guy’s horse, rotating on a spit over a flame. The entire horse sits awkwardly on the open-flame spit. It is getting to be just before sundown, now. The horse’s legs are too long and sniff to fully rotate the spit. Next cut is to the completely stiff horse, placed on all fours directly over the open fire, so the flames can better touch and cook the horse’s belly.
Cleaning scenes. Some dialog about how to avoid any prosecution for the murder-crime. The men mount their horses, and start their ride home.