Archive for the ‘TV Drama’ Category


Posted on September 26, 2011 - by

What Makes it Stick?

We were delighted to be commissioned for a third TV drama pilot by Redroofs Theatre School. Once again, the 30 minute drama was directed by Rupert Such (EastEnders, Casualty, The Bill) and screened at BAFTA in 2011.

Here’s an excerpt from the piece – it’s a great monologue.

What Makes it Stick?

Keen & Pandini | 2011

[…]

IMOGEN runs the Speed Dating night. She is standing in the corridor waiting for her last few daters to arrive. IMOGEN is to speed dating what David Brent is to stationery. Unsuited. She is quite fierce, unsentimental, says the wrong thing and scares people. Her phone rings. She answers it with a deep sigh.

IMOGEN:
What? (PAUSE) Good. Sort the stuff out. Divide it into piles. Build a wall down the middle of the bedroom for all I care. (PAUSE) Yes, I know you are threatening to leave me. But couldn’t you just text it? I’m working you know? (PAUSE) What? Typical? Typical of me to be working while you sit around all day playing Death Slaughter Psycho Mayhem Four? Yes, isn’t it.

IMOGEN walks a little way down the corridor looking for daters. No one. She looks at her watch.

IMOGEN:(CONT’D)
Pardon? Yes I am listening. I just haven’t got time for this right now. (PAUSE) No, I don’t know where your World of War DVDs are. Next to the pile of cookery books? Hang on.

JAKE and BEN appear at the end of the corridor. They walk up to IMOGEN. IMOGEN covers the mouth piece on the phone and turns on the charm. It almost works but she can’t quite get the sincere smile thing right.

IMOGEN:(CONT’D)
Hello boys! Here for the speed dating? Lovely, do go in.

IMOGEN points BEN and JAKE to the door of the room, then turns and walks away.

IMOGEN
Tasty Road Kill for Carnivores. No? Well if they aren’t by the cookery books I don’t know… (PAUSE) Shit, do we have to do this now? (PAUSE) Fine. Fine, fine, fine. OK. I get it. I’m not showing you enough attention, you are a romantic soul who needs to be loved and I’m failing you – although quite when I am supposed to show all this affection I don’t know. (PAUSE) What I mean is, you’re always shooting or hunting or slaughtering or mortal combatting, aren’t you, so how am I suppose… (PAUSE) Whatever. OK. Keep them all. Put them in your special pile. Except the films I need for work. You can have all the sodding DVDs… (PAUSE) Yes! Even the history of slasher movies. But I need my work films. (PAUSE) Brief Encounter, Notting Hill, Love Actually and Titanic. Touch those and you’re a dead man.

IMOGEN hangs up and storms down the corridor.

[…]


Posted on May 16, 2010 - by

The Other Side

This was our second TV drama for Redroofs Theatre School.
The 30 minute pilot-style drama was directed by Rupert Such (EastEnders, Casualty, The Bill) and screened at BAFTA in 2010.

From the script:

The Other Side

Keen & Pandini | 2010

[…]

GEMMA:
We had a lovely chat. I learnt a lot. Poor girl.

MIKE:
(MIKE abandons all attempts at self-control at this point)
Poor girl? Are you mad? She’s a gold-digging slapper and how you can think that her motives are anything other than malicious I don’t know…

GEMMA:
You said you’d support her. You told her you loved her.

MIKE:
See? Money. That’s what she’s after. God, I wish I’d never met her that night. She’s been after my wallet all this time and…

GEMMA:
She wants to train to be a nurse, for Christ’s sake. She isn’t after your millions to fund her crack habit. You told her you loved her.

MIKE:
I may have mentioned it. I didn’t mean it. I love you.

GEMMA:
But you loved her? And you didn’t even tell her we had met, let alone that we were getting married?

MIKE:
It was none of her business.

GEMMA:
She has enrolled for the nursing course. Because she thought she could count on you.

MIKE:
And I thought I could count on you, Gemma. But it seems I can’t. God, we’ve only been married eight hours and already you’re taking sides against me with some girl you don’t know, I don’t care about and who, sure as hell, doesn’t care about you.

GEMMA:
She cared enough to tell me the truth. Which is more than

MIKE:
So you think I should have told you? It would have hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt you.

GEMMA:
I would have dealt with it. But now I have to deal with the fact that you are a coward.

MIKE:
You really are taking her side in this, aren’t you? Falling for the ‘poor little me’ routine?

GEMMA:
I don’t think it was a routine. She, she knew stuff about you. Stuff I knew. Stuff I thought I was the only person who did know. And she had the guts to come up here and tell me.

MIKE:
So. So what now? Are you leaving?

GEMMA:
That’s typical. You would only think in terms of giving up straight away. No. No, I’m not leaving. But I need to think.

GEMMA stands and moves towards the door. MIKE takes her words to mean that everything is alright and goes to touch her – looking to seduce rather than sympathise.

MIKE:
(whispers in an attempt to be seductive)
I knew you’d come round to my side, Peachy.

GEMMA slaps MIKE in the face.

GEMMA:
I’m not on your side. And I’m not on hers. I’m on my side. That’s the truth.


Posted on June 26, 2009 - by

Inside Out

Every year, sudents at Redroofs Theatre School produce a film and TV showcase. A number of original pieces are professionally filmed, directed and edited for a screening at BAFTA. We were commissioned to write a pilot-style TV drama for this showcase.

The Other Side

Keen & Pandini | 2010

[…]

A white transit van makes its way slowly up the drive and stops at the front of the building. On the side of the van we see the badly painted sign: TERRY JOBS ODD JOBS and underneath: NO JOBS TOO SMALL FOR JOBS.
TERRY gets out of the van and stretches his legs.
He’s joined by LITTLE BILLY and TAD. TERRY opens the back doors of the van to reveal buckets, cloths and ladders.

TERRY:
Right lads – new contract. Let’s try and keep it for more than a week, shall we? No arsing around. No talking to the prisoners.

CASSIE and SAVANNA appear from a side door, and light up cigarettes. They see the boys and smile.

LITTLE BILLY:
Women’s prison.

TAD
Cool potatoes!

LITTLE BILLY and TAD high-five each other. TERRY shakes his head.

TERRY:
That was no talking to the prisoners, got it? No talking.

LITTLE BILLY:
Yeah, yeah, no talking. We heard you, Boss.

TAD
Message received.

TERRY:
Like it was ‘no talking’ to the nurses. Message didn’t exactly get through there, did it? So I’m just making sure that this time we’re all clear, alright? No talking. No shouting. No whistling. Nothing.

TAD and LITTLE BILLY exchange smirks

TERRY:(CONT’D)
And no sign language. Don’t even look at them. We need a good steady job and this is a regular gig if you two can manage to keep your noses clean for a bleeding change.

LITTLE BILLY:
Clean noses, clean windows, clean underwear, the works. Don’t you worry.

TERRY:
Yeah right, what have I got to worry about with you two monkeys around? Two hours. Two hours I left you at that bloody home. ‘Old people’, I thought ‘how much of a distraction can they be?’ So I nip off to the shops…

TAD
…betting ones, shall we say?

TERRY:
We’re not talking about me. I nip off to the shops, come back expecting to see twenty clean windows and find you two half cut in the staff room without so much as a damp shammy to show for your time…

TAD
Strictly speaking, there was a damp…

TERRY:
Don’t even finish that. It was wrong and I haven’t been able to watch Casualty since. We were lucky that one of them was the Sister or it would have been in the papers, I swear. Give me more grief than her indoors with her chuffin dog shows you two.

TAD
Are we actually doing this job or just listening to you all day?

TERRY:
Less of the cheek. I just don’t want any more incidents.

LITTLE BILLY:
Told you, don’t worry.

TERRY:
Don’t worry, he says. Go on, get on with it. I’ll be in the van. Not worrying.