Treatment!

Hey!  We’ve got a treatment!  We’re going to break for lunch, then come back and add sluglines to it and start writing!

A word of caution.  We really leaned into the genre on this one.  Like, there’s a whole lot of really weird sex and people die gruesomely.  Our moms and grandmas would probably do well to steer clear of this one…


“PATRONAGE”

Logline: A young couple agrees to let an eccentric millionaire watch them have sex, but when she becomes obsessed with them, they realize easy money never is.


Treatment:

Moaning in blackness – hot sex is being had.

We fade in on the attractive young couple having the hot sex. The shot starts very close, tight on their faces. The camera dollies back, the shot gets wider and wider, but doesn’t cut. It’s uncomfortably intimate.

The woman rakes the man’s back with her left hand, and we see a wedding band on her finger. She rolls him over and rides him, moaning. His hands hold her breasts. We see a matching ring on his finger.

The camera continues backward. They’re in a huge bed in the middle of a huge wood paneled room.

Then, as the shot becomes wider still, we notice that they aren’t alone in the room. Someone is watching them.

It is an attractive woman in her seventies. She rests her chin on a cane. The camera finally loses interest in the couple. It spins to the woman and quickly closes in on her face.

The moaning gets louder, closer and closer to orgasm.

As the old woman licks her lips we smash to:

A grocery store, months earlier. Eleanor and Ian, the couple we just saw having sex, are shopping. Eleanor puts avocados into a bag. Ian comes up behind her and kisses her neck.

An old woman watches them. It’s the old woman from the opening. This is Antonia Delacorte. Ian hands Eleanor a carton of eggs. Antonia bumps into Eleanor, causing her to drop the eggs.

Antonia apologizes — she’s charming, and offers to take them to dinner to say sorry. They shrug and agree.

It’s a convivial dinner. They tell her that they’re artists, always struggling a little but happy and happily in love. They met in art school. Ian works as a graphic designer, Eleanor makes the chalk signs they put outside sidewalk cafes and sells them on Etsy. Antonia’s a real character, but sharp as a tack. She asks them questions about their art, commiserates about making ends meet, and so on. Then out of nowhere she says something hugely inappropriate about their sex life. Conversation dies. Antonia invites them to her house for a night cap. Eleanor agrees.

On their way, in the car, Ian’s sketched out. He thinks Antonia’s weird. Eleanor defends her. They go inside. Antonia makes them cocktails. They sit down on the couch. Antonia asks to watch them have sex. They gape at her. She clarifies that she’ll pay them, of course. They laugh. Antonia doesn’t. She isn’t joking.

They stare at her. They’re all a little drunk. Somehow, they agree. They find themselves disrobing, making out. While Antonia sits on the couch, watching them, they have sex. They finish. Antonia gets her check book, writes them a check. They stare at it. Put their clothes on. They leave.

In the car, shocked silence. Ian asks if Eleanor’s OK. She is. She asks if he’s OK. He is. Ian looks at the check. Antonia paid them more than their monthly rent. Bemused, they drive home.

Meanwhile, Antonia gets into a bathtub and masturbates.

Life continues. One morning a few weeks later, they’re both working — him on an iMac desktop, her curled up on the couch with her laptop — when Eleanor gets a message through her Etsy page. She opens it. It’s from Antonia. Eleanor calls Ian over, shows him. They can’t decide if it’s creepy or not that Antonia stalked them online, but shrug it off — after all, she DID watch them have sex.

Antonia’s message is cryptic. She has “a proposition” for Eleanor, and invites her over. Ian doesn’t want her to go alone, but Eleanor says she’s fine: Antonia’s strange, but she’s an old lady — what’s she gonna do? But Ian insists.

They go together to Antonia’s house. Antonia’s the soul of hospitality. She offers them lemonade. She’s every bit the doting grandmother. She talks about opera. She’s so…normal. Eleanor finally asks why they’re there. Antonia gets down to business.

She tells them she has a proposition. She slides a thick contract across the table to them.

She tells them that she enjoyed watching them fuck, and that she thinks it should become a regular thing. She proposes that they move into her house. She will cover their food and lodging, and when she dies they’ll receive 5% of her sizable estate. In exchange, she can watch them have sex.

They hesitate. She tells them to take a few days and think it over. She’s very concerned that they sign it of their own free will, and that the whole thing is completely consensual.

They go home. They talk it over. They’re hesitant, but Eleanor mentions that it was sort of hot, being watched. Ian agrees, and kisses her. She kisses back, and they start to remove each other’s clothes. They start to have sex, and as they do their apartment fades into the wood paneled bedroom we saw at the beginning of the film, and we’re back where we started. We are now caught up.

They move in. They set up an art studio, happily talking about how liberating it was to quit their day jobs. They’re bemused at the whole thing, but nothing about it seems especially sinister. They have sex that night. Antonia watches them, holding their cat in her lap and stroking it. When they finish, she asks if she can put up cameras in the house so she can watch them from her bedroom. They hesitate. She tells them she’ll add another five percent of her estate to the contract. They shrug — why not?

Days later, Antonia’s in her bedroom watching on a monitor as the couple sleeps. She presses a button, speaks into an intercom. The couple jerks awake as Antonia’s voice fills their room. She asks Eleanor to paint her portrait.

The next day, in their studio, Eleanor works on her portrait. Ian photographs the process. The atmosphere in the room is strange — it becomes evident to everyone that the tables have been turned. Now they watch her intently, and she withers under the scrutiny. They talk to her as they work. The conversation is intimate but not sexual. Antonia seems increasingly uncomfortable. Eleanor notices a PICC line in Antonia’s shoulder. She asks Antonia about it. Antonia flinches — we realize she’s very ill, perhaps dying. She gets up angrily and leaves. Ian and Eleanor look at each other, shrug, and continue working.

As soon as she’s in her room Antonia intercoms them. She tells them to drop what they’re doing and have sex. They start to make out on the dropcloth. This time, though, Antonia begins to direct them. She talks them through everything, telling them what positions, what speed, etc. They go along with it, even start to get into it.

Then Antonia introduces an element of violence. She asks Eleanor if Ian can choke her. Ian hesitates. Eleanor tells him to go ahead. It’s hotter than they expected. They both come hard, and collapse on the floor. They gaze at each other. They’re very close, surprisingly intimate. We see bruises forming on Eleanor’s neck. In her room, staring at the screen, Antonia breathes hard.

Time passes. In their rooms, Ian’s making breakfast and Eleanor’s reading her email. A gallery has contacted her, interested in doing a joint exhibit of their art. They’re thrilled, and marvel at how this bizarre sex arrangement is paying off. Without day jobs, with time to focus on their art, they’re gaining traction. At dinner that evening they tell Antonia about it, and invite her to the opening. She tells them that she’s not going and they aren’t either. They’re taken aback. She says if they leave the house the contract is canceled. But they have to meet with the owner, they say. Antonia tells them she’ll handle the details. They reluctantly agree.

They work frantically to prepare for the opening. As they do so, they notice workmen coming in and out of the house. Something’s being built. The night of the opening rolls around. They’re sad not to be there, but Antonia throws them a celebratory dinner. It’s a pleasant meal — almost familial. Antonia’s charming, they all seem happy. Afterwards, Antonia tells them she has a surprise for them. She takes them to the room the workmen were building. They go inside. It’s a luxuriously appointed S&M dungeon.

Ian and Eleanor have sex. Again, Antonia directs them. This time it’s more violent than before — startlingly violent. They always explicitly consent, though, and both of them get into it.

The next day, they’re visibly bruised, but seem happy. They’re on tenterhooks to read about the opening. They make a little ceremony out of it, and hold off until they’ve sat down to breakfast. With a flourish Eleanor pulls up the first review. It’s hugely positive, and specially praises the mysterious artists for not showing up. They read more reviews, all of which say the same thing. Antonia intercoms her congratulations, and says she has a new proposition. She wants them to have a baby. In return she’ll give them half the estate.

We jump forward. Eleanor steps out of a bathtub, visibly pregnant. Ian comes behind her with a towel, kisses her neck, wraps the towel around her. They seem blissfully happy. Antonia’s voice comes on the intercom — she says she has a treat for them that she’ll give to them at dinner. That night, there’s a fourth person at the table.

It’s a beautiful man. Antonia introduces him as Paul. He doesn’t speak. Antonia commissions them to make his portrait.

The next day they start work on Paul’s portrait. He never speaks. Eleanor sketches him as Ian photographs the proceedings. Over the intercom, Antonia asks them to stop working and have sex. Ian and Eleanor wait for Paul to leave the room. He doesn’t. Antonia asks if they want him to leave — she says she would prefer he says. They hesitate, then say he can stay. They have sex. He watches.

That night, Eleanor and Ian are asleep. Antonia is in the room with them, watching them sleep. Eleanor wakes up. She sees Antonia, is startled. She wakes Ian. Antonia asks them if they’d be open to Paul having sex with them. They agree.

Antonia calls for Paul, and he immediately steps into the room. He was waiting outside. Eleanor and Ian are taken aback. The three of them have sex. Paul never speaks.

Weeks later, they’re eating dinner. Antonia looks much the worse for wear. She occasionally takes hits from an oxygen mask. Paul remains silent, but they’re all companionable. Antonia suggests they go the Red Room for “dessert.”

Eleanor, Ian, and Paul have sex. Antonia watches them, breathing through the mask. Abruptly, Antonia tells them that she has a final request. They pause. She says, “Kill Paul.” She tells them that if they do she’ll leave them everything. Paul jumps up and tries to run out, but Ian tackles him. Eleanor, by this time incredibly pregnant, leaps on top of them and helps to subdue Paul. They chain him, spread-eagled, to the wall. He’s sobbing. They stuff a ball gag in his mouth. They look at each other. They can’t believe what they’re doing. They ask Antonia what to kill him with. She holds out a knife to Ian. She tells Eleanor to suck Paul’s cock and tells Ian to slit his throat when he comes.

Ian takes the knife. Eleanor begins blowing Paul. Paul sobs. Antonia’s breathing gets faster and faster. She pulls her chair closer, then hikes up her dress and begins masturbating. Eleanor’s rhythm speeds up. Ian presses the knife to Paul’s throat. Paul comes. Antonia comes. In a flash, Ian turns around and severs Antonia’s oxygen tube. She coughs, something hemorrhages, the clear oxygen mask fills with blood. She claws at the mask. Eleanor unchains Paul, who runs out of the room. Eleanor and Ian stare at Antonia as she chokes to death on her own blood.

When she’s dead, they carry her to her room. They lay her on her bed and with unexpected tenderness draw the covers up.

It’s the first time they’ve ever touched her, and it’s the first time they’ve been in her room. They stare at her, something on their faces — is it grief? Ian calls her doctor. Eleanor finds a legal document on Antonia’s desk — she left them everything.

Months later. They’ve moved into Antonia’s bedroom. Their baby sleeps in a crib beside the bed. Ian’s on top of Eleanor, thrusting — but there’s no passion. Closer and closer on Eleanor’s face. She looks…bored. We hold on her blank face. Fade out

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s