TRANSFORM YOUR STORIES INTO REALITY
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THE LESSON(SCRIPT): pAGE #1
Establishing shot. Perspective is high up, as if we are standing on top of a high, projects building’s roof, looking down at it the hustle and bustle of New York, the Big Apple. This city is the heart of professional sports and top-notch street basketball!! It is the early afternoon as the sun blazes the sky and beats down over the busy street. There are three other projects building just a few blocks away. The streets are packed, as most days in the summers of NY. Cop cars race by. People shift through jammed streets filled with various people going about their affairs or rushing to work. We see the high buildings and store fronts, streetlights, and such, along with various parks (although there is one, we will be focusing on). But one basketball court is the focus here. It is paced with a slew of basketball players and people watching the game.
Caption: New York: 135th Street-Harlem, right off the 3rd avenue bridge.
Inside one of those project buildings. We are at the end of the hall. The greet doors of apartments are aligned on both sides of the hall and JAMAL, our main character’s door is at the very end of the hall, facing us. The door number 15C, is shown in gold on the door, as well as a small peep hole above it and a big welcome mat with the word welcome is etched upon it. The elevators are aligned on the right hand sides adjacent to one another, 2 to be exact, and we can see the set of stairs a few feet away from them extended to the floor, as the next set is at the end of the hall extending to the next floor. Jamal’s floor is aligned with diamond designed tile, and there is a brown trim boarder for decoration along the top of the walls upon both sides of the hallway. Hall lights line the ceiling. But the hallway looks somewhat unkempt. Sure, the floors are cleaning, but there still is a rather dingy look to it, one showing a feeling of hardship and despair.
Sounds of television: I came to bring the pain, hardcore to the brain. Coming from inside your astroplane,”
Jamal's (VO): Jamal! Jamal! Will you turn that down! Or plug in your headphones. All of Harlem doesn’t have to get a free concert, you know.
We are in Jamal’s bedroom. He is laid back on his bed, propped up against the headboard with one leg stretched out. The other leg is propped up with the foot flat on the covers. It has a very nice, rounded headboard. Both hands are propped behind his head and his fingers are meshed. He is wearing sports socks, and at the base of his bed is aligned a few of the hottest, newest sneakers out. Next to the bed is a square based lamp sitting on a wooden draw. He has a window facing out on his right and against his wall, a few feet away from his door, is a top-notch music/stereo system with extremely high flat, square shaped Boss speakers. There is an equalizer, the works to this thing. On the wall is various posters, one of Michael Jordan. Another of Magic Johnson and yet another of Wilt “The Stilt” Chamberlain scoring his hundredth point on the New York Knicks with his patented hook shot. Jamal is tossing up a basketball to catch it in his lap.
Mom: Boy! I said turn it down now! Do not make me go in there and do it for you! I…
Jamal: Ok. Ok. My bad. You do not have to worry. I got it Mom
Jamal catches the ball, looking out before him.
Jamal puts down the ball on the bed and leans up from it to get up.
Jamal (VO): Jamal. Look how you spend your days, living like a king, off someone else’s is sweat.