EXT. LOS ANGELES – NIGHT
All we SEE is a FIRE burning. Its orange haze waving round its smoke, filling the screen as the orange burns and fires. Glowing EMBERS and swaying FLAMES rise in a recognizable yet newly choreographed movement. Just above, behind and all around surrounded by a darkness, nothing else is seen. All there is is firelight and darkness. Darkness surrounding firelight.
D’you hear that?
All there is is firelight and darkness. Darkness surrounding firelight. Fire and more fire.
Don’t look away. Look into the fire, the orange flicker smoking from the embers.
The wavering flames stare back at us. A conversation begins. A wordless talking
. Embers, flames and smoke speak as one. Their silence saying it all without words, yet communicating.
For centuries–millennia, fire has spoken to those that hear. The secrets of it all within the flames and embers, the lifting of its smoke.
The FIRE continues to stare back.
You hear it, don’t you?
MUSIC starts. A staccato HIT. Another. No pattern, yet we HEAR something beginning. The MUSIC grows to a sway, a building meter pulsing, rythmic.
The FLAMES move to the rythmn. A kind of belly-dance by fire. Long, stretched-out arms reaching high, swerving gently side to side, lowering and rising as the flames that they are.
Glowing orange FLAME staring back through the MUSIC.
What’s it saying? Looking back into the self: that place we know is more than a chemical reaction between oxygen, more than a breaking down of cellulose at 150, 300 degrees. Feel it?
Staring back, the FLAME burns, the MUSIC plays.
What’s it said before?
The FLAME flames. All we SEE is FIRE burning.