Saturday, 30 May 2009

Thank you Mr Sandman

For centuries, writers have been saying that stories have come to them in their dreams. A lot of Renaissance poets and authors claimed that they dreamt shit up and just wrote it down. This served two purposes:
  1. It seemed like their word was stronger - as if the story/poetry came from a higher power and is therefore worth more.
  2. If it was crap, boring or disturbing, it wasn't their fault. They only dreamt it. It's not their fault it's a story about rape and suicide!
Anyway, I always thought that was a load of rubbish. I've dreamt up ideas before. For example, last week I found myself walking through uni as usual, when a werewolf attacked. I jumped into action....literally! I leapt over a railing, fell 3 floors and landed all cat-like on the ground. Turns out I was a vampire!

Anyway, this werewolf seemed not to like me (a rip-off of UNDERWORLD, I know). But I was the hero! I charged at the thing, intent on putting this great beast down for good. Then it hit me, slashed my face to ribbons and sent me crashing out of the window. Then I woke up.

So that's an idea right? At the most a scene of sorts. Had the idea of vamps vs werewolves not been done, I'd probably be writing it down right now. I thought that was the limit of dreaming - ideas. After all, it's only the subconscious and no matter what anyone says, you need the conscious to tell a story.

I had a dream last night night that was pretty damn close to being a full film. It was chronological and made sense, as well as being realistic and violent (as always).

Initially, I found myself in SAVING PRIVATE RYAN. There I was, storming Omaha Beach in Normandy with a bunch of Americans. I was running around, not shooting anyone - I was just trying to stay alive.

Note: Little fact for you all - studies show that 85% of WWII soldiers deliberately shot away from the enemy. That's probably why it took so long to win the war. Anyway...

So I'm running for my life in Normandy (following Tom Hanks as he makes his wasyup the beach) when all of a sudden, I'm shot. Right in the stomach. I like to think it was an expert sniper.

Needless to say, I went down and was lying on that beach, screaming like mad along with hundreds of other men. Then the rest of the film unfolded. I'm pretty sure the idea hasn't been done before. I'm not going to retell it all here (I'm paranoid like that). Let's just say there will no doubt be some history buffs who would kill me if they heard what I was going to write.....

2 comments:

Ephiny said...

Oooh, how exciting! Does that mean you're actually going to write this film based on your dream? I look forward to hearing more about it in the future!

Neil said...

It's weird as hell. Yep, going to write it straight from my dream. Ironing out some continuity stuff etc but it's all pretty much there. I woke up somewhere in the 2nd act, but knew what I was going to do so it should be quite fun to write.