Hindsight - Script

He couldn’t be honest, or it would be taken too literally. Reflections. I see you. You know I know you go back, go forward. Showing one way or the other. Let me take over here. Looking there inside. It closes and cements itself over.

Colin, your letter explaining the bizarre experiences you have been having in your apartment kind of took me apart on this end. I’m always very skeptical of that kind of description of reality. But I just want to say that I believe that it is happening. I just don’t have any place to put that type of experience in to my person.

[black, zooms and pans to apt]
The first time—this is hindsight. The first time I really became convinced was very late at night, January 29th. I was lying in bed with my face towards the window.  My mattress was slowly pressed down near my feet. My feet tilted. I lay there, staring out the window, unable to look down to my feet. Afraid of my second sight. [music, zoom to white]

Dear Colin, There are people and places with vibrations. The movements enter the body, apparently through the skin. Touching immediately the heart. In the warmth of emotion or the shiver of fear. The intellect follows along later. Trying to systematize this knowledge and prepare it for rational explanation. [zooms out to Colin, blurry, then in focus]

Use what is known already to explain the unknown. It is not mysterious phenomena that are a mystery to me. It is the cold logic of unfeeling that I cannot accept or understand.

[light ring, sounds, pan down, around to Colin, eyes obscured]
I’m outside. It is cold. It is lonely here. You know some of my thoughts, but how can I know yours? There are clues. I remain outside. You are uncertain. You make the rules. The rules can change. I am not alone, but I am isolated, and closed within and excluded from. You’re cold, when I come too close. I must not touch. Outside it is cold. [sounds]

I know how to prepare a mummy. You draw the brains out though the nose with a special hook. Pack the vital organs in a separate jar. And fill the body cavity with aromatic herbs. Sometimes the pitch or tar used to fasten the winding cloths would so fuse that the layers could not be removed while leaving the body intact. [sounds, C reading book]

[book, pan to Colin’s face]
I am repelled by death and carnality and can hardly handle raw meat without gritting my teeth. Yet stories of putrefaction fascinate me. I know a lot about witches and evidence of the supernatural. I understand madness, although I have not been mad myself. [sounds]

[Colin in bed]

[close-up ink]
I’m not sure I really understand how it happened. It just seemed that it was necessary so. It seemed like an act of faith, an act of love, almost. But the next day, the next day, I began to wonder. And the third day after the bandage came off and I washed it and it remained I felt it somehow was sinister. I couldn’t really understand. We hardly spoke of it. But it was related to my force. Gaining force from you when you were being my puppet. And I suddenly realized that the pattern now imprinted on my arm—which exactly matches your natural markings on your arm in the same place—was somehow more than just that.


[sideways face in window, baroque music]

[Colin, radio static]


[Colin, music]
Pay attention to your dreams. And remember that dreaming with the eyes open is what we lose when we get older. It is something I have found again. Play it out, and understand it. Talk to yourself. Colin, John, would you like to go for a ride in the car? C’mon you two, you have to go. It isn’t so bad in the back seat. Each one of you has your own window. I’m glad that these windows go all the way down instead of only half way for safety. You can reach out and hit the dog on the head as he sprints along barking madly at the wheel. You two have brought along your diversions and only barking dogs would distract you from your work.

[window, music, Colin]

[end title]
It is a big back seat, and all your objects are out on the seat. Warm, bright from the sun. Little cars, and bodies of little people. Next thing you know, you’re on the floor of the back seat and you hear the portable radio hit the floorboard in front. The big car has just hit the telephone pole with  a small bang. The car is dented and everyone is okay. Thank God. Everyone is alright.