Camera moves slowly down a street in suburban Los Angeles. At the end of the block, the camera stops and pushes in on a house with a wide driveway and a foreclosure sign out front.
Inside, the house is empty with wall to wall carpeting, wood paneling, and mood lighting. The camera moves slowly through the house.
In the first bedroom there is a doll lying in the corner. We hear someone singing a lullaby: “Hush little baby, don’t you cry.”
In the next bedroom there is a poster of Tom Brady on the wall. We hear a teenager say: “Hey dad, I made the varsity!”
In the last bedroom, we hear the muted sounds of a couple who have just finished making love. Sounds of kissing, nibbling, barely audible moaning. The sound of them both flopping onto their backs on the bed. They sigh.
Man: “That was good.”
Woman: [laughing] “For you, maybe.” [Pause two beats]. She shudders audibly. “Oh, yeah. Oh, shit yeah.”
Out into the backyard, the camera focuses on a portable barbecue. We hear food cooking and the sounds of a party, voices of all ages.
Camera moves into the living room. We hear:
Woman: “My boss told me I don’t have to go to St. Louis next week. Fine with me. I would’ve had to change planes in Dallas. I hate that fucking airport.”
Man: “At my job, everybody’s freaked out about the layoffs. But it’s only ten people. I’ve been there twenty years. I’m good.”
Excerpt from the film script for What Can Be / 2008