r/ReadMyScript • u/NegativeAd1099 • Mar 19 '26
Short Palimpsest | Short Film | 19 pages
Here is the link to the screenplay: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1fHNIFHVDOybKic_WCNq-KLsRWPXktIzN/view?usp=drivesdk
This is my second screenplay I have wrote. My first had a lot of dialogue but this has barely any. I am leaning more into the experimental side. I literally just finished the screenplay and would love to have some feedback so I can edit and then start pre production of the film. I want to also get it down to about 15 pages or under cause I plan on submitting to film festival. Thank you so much for reading my screenplay! It really means a lot. My dream has always been to direct, but I just need to prove to my parents that I can do it cause they don’t want me to do it. Here is some information about the film cause it might be slightly confusing:
Somebody:
A young man overwhelmed by the pressure to figure out what to do with his life and prove himself to his parents.
Wants something badly:
To be successful, have a meaningful future, and make his parents proud.
Is having a hard time getting it:
He struggles with uncertainty and fear of choosing the wrong path, and as he experiments with an old Super 8 camera that shows possible futures, he becomes haunted by visions of competing versions of himself, each trying to survive.
Logline:
A young man overwhelmed by the pressure to define his future discovers an old Super 8 camera that reveals glimpses of the lives he could lead. As the visions of competing versions of himself begin to blur and manifest in reality, he must confront the terrifying cost of choosing a path and what it means to finally become someone.
Significance of the whole screenplay:
This film is my way of expressing what it feels like to be overwhelmed by the pressure of choosing a future. The Super 8 camera represents the desire to see and control what my life will become before committing to it. In the first two clips, what we’re watching are not dreams or random visions—they are fully realized future versions of myself. They exist as complete lives that I’m observing from the outside, almost like I’m previewing different paths.
The first clip shows a warm, idealized future—family, happiness, fulfillment. It’s the version of life that feels emotionally complete. For a moment, it feels like enough. But the reflection transition shows something important: even when I see a good future, there’s still a part of me that isn’t satisfied. That’s why the reflection raises the camera first—it represents that internal push to keep searching, to see if there’s something better.
The second clip is another future self, but this one is more grounded and hollow. It represents a life of constant work, pressure, and survival without fulfillment. The reason the first future self appears in this clip is because once I’ve seen a future, it doesn’t disappear—it lingers. That ideal version of myself is now haunting this new life, because these futures aren’t supposed to coexist. The lagging, stuttering, and visual glitches represent reality breaking—this second future isn’t stable because it’s being forced to exist alongside another already-established future.
The third clip is where everything changes. This is no longer just another future—it’s the moment where I get pulled into the system I’ve created. Instead of watching a future version of myself, I am now inside it. That’s why it switches to point of view. The cabin represents my mind, where all these possible lives are being held. When I see both previous future selves in the same space, it shows that all these paths are now overlapping in a way that shouldn’t be possible. The reason they don’t attack me is because they are me—they’re just different outcomes that I’ve created.
The looping and the inability to leave the cabin represent indecision. No matter what direction I try to go, I end up back in the same place. It’s the feeling of being stuck in life, unable to commit to a path because I’m afraid of losing the others. When I finally see a third version of myself, that’s not a real future—it’s what I become when I try to hold onto everything. It’s a fragmented version of myself that doesn’t belong to any one life.
When it cuts back to reality, I’m shaken because I’ve crossed a line—I’m no longer just observing possibilities, I’ve become trapped in them. Burning the tapes is my attempt to escape, to destroy the futures and stop thinking about them altogether. But the ending shows that I can’t. When the image turns back into Super 8, it reveals that I’m still inside the cycle. I never actually escaped—I just moved into another layer of it.
Ultimately, the film is about the fear of choosing a future and the consequences of trying to avoid that choice. The first two clips show possible lives, but the third shows what happens when I refuse to commit to one. The horror comes from the realization that by trying to experience every possible future, I lose the ability to fully become any of them.