Short Movie Credit to
Evan Sapach | Actor
Holy Panutomo | Director, Producer, Editor, SFX&Music, story
Clyde Steel Reign | Assistant Director, Writer
Cheng Cheng | Assistant Producer
Jackson Heng | Storyboard act
Special Thanks to
Andrew Marsh, Shin, Billy Blue College of Design
First Day of the month,
It is trash collection day, he wakes up disturbed by the truck's noises, with a grumpy expression, he looks around his room, his eyes focusing on the alarm clock sitting by his bedside, dreading the seconds before it rings.
Unenthusiastic, he gets up whilst stretching his arms out. Lacking motivation, succumbed to routine his alarm on cue, notifies him to begin his regular mundane day of events.
Getting up out of bed, He scratches his head and makes his way to the bathroom, trotting along, feet dragging on the floor,
Once he is there, he can’t help but stare into his reflection, thoughts going through his head, quickly silenced by the clank of the toothbrush on the sink. Making faces in the mirror, he decides the mask he will put on today, one of dominance, one of the heroic gestures, using his face towel as a cape, but alas he settles on his regular look with the absence of the dreams and ambitions he once had and begins to proceed to his bedroom to change.
He puts on his disguise that serves as his signature look and as a reminder of what he lacks. Going to the kitchen he begins to make a cup of coffee, He stares off into the distance, his eyes meeting the flowerpot sitting on a shelf, The kettle reaches a boil snapping him back to reality. He begins to drink his coffee, with a slurp he looks at his watch. It’s time to leave, grabbing his keys and helmet he slams the door behind him.
The flowerpot shakes a little towards the sunlight.
Another trash collection day arrives, like clockwork, his routine begins again. For several cycles, this repeats, each time the door slamming causes the pot plant to move a little each time.
One day he wakes up and there's no garbage truck. It seems there is a traffic jam holding it up today and he wakes up to his alarm clock this time. As he is staring at the pot plant pouring out his milk, this time the garbage truck arrives late, the vibrations causing the plant to teeter off the edge. As the pot drops, he misses the cup and the milk starts to pour on the countertop, he immediately drops the milk and rushes to try to save the pot plant from falling, but it lands crashing to the ground, broken much like him. the flower resting on top of a broken piece of pottery and dirt, but now in the sunlight.
At a turning point in his life, he decides things are going to be different. He quickly puts the flower into his coffee cup with some dirt. Grabbing his cycle this time he places the plant in the front basket. Zigzagging across the street he smiles with his eyes closed, looking up at the sky, ringing his bicycle bell to announce he is free now.
Through suburban streets the ocean can be seen on the horizon, he darts towards it. Met by the laughter of children playing and dancing to the calling of the ocean. He plants the flower into the ground, as we focus on the flower in the foreground we see him in the background at a distance.
Making his way to the water, staring at his reflection in the water, afraid to get his feet wet, he suddenly begins to move as the wind blows the flower gently swaying it. Kicking about dancing in joy, now filled with laughter and cheer.
“Woohoo, Hee Hee” Shouted Him
No longer afraid or tied down by routine.
The End.
