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Project Main Details
As we are a start-up company there is minimal compensation at this time however, this is an opportunity to present oneself before a variety of industry pros and get in on the ground floor of an up and coming enterprise. To get started and try this voice we'll need around 3 hours of recording at our studios (L.A.); Payment $150. We do have a lot of ongoing work if we feel comfortable working with you at better rates.
We are looking to work with a proficient and motivated performer who wants to
take part in the development of an innovative new service. Our goal is to establish the "voice" of our company. (ala movie fone guy)
What we’re going for here is a narrator to read aloud all of the SCENE DESCRIPTIONS, CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS, and ACTIONS in the script essentially everything you’d see on a written script including the title and author with exception to the character’s dialogue itself. (Those will be performed by other actors) This is basically a book on tape with you performing as the narrator. The performance should be relatively subtle and and somewhat direct. NOTE: Any abbreviations such as INT. or EXT. would need to be said aloud in full.
@ Mar 19, 2007 19:25:06 (GMT -05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada) Mar 26, 2007 00:00:00 (GMT -05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada) No (click here to learn more about
Project Parameters
Script Details
For example:
INT. HOUSE — DAY
(you would read as “Interior house...day.” followed by any description of the scene or characters)
That’s basically it. I’m attaching a script entitled “RAIN” I would like to hear narrator perform the script below. Since there won’t be any characters to play off of the narrator can simply pause between each part.
A BLACK SCREEN.
The sound of POURING RAIN followed by:
The sound of a STEADY HEARTBEAT. With every
THUMP appears:
-- The profile of a man in the darkness as he
painfully inhales.
-- Rain, pouring in through shattered
skylights that span the ceiling.
-- The man exhales in sloppy exhaustion.
-- Large Oriental statues, weapons and
artifacts, strewn about in disarray, sprinkled
with shattered glass and splintered wood.
-- The man's brow wrinkles as he forces air
into his lungs once again.
-- Lifeless bodies, mangled and twisted,
painful to look at.
-- The man cringes as he coughs up a mouthful
of blood.
INT. MUSEUM -- NIGHT
A large and cavernous space supported by
massive pillars.
The man, JACK OLDEN, 28, is pinned to one of
the chambers large columns. His head hangs
low, hands clasping the spear that impales
below his chest. From the looks of things he
should be dead, instead, he speaks:
OLDEN
(exhau
sted)
Look, kid, this has
to stop...
An 8-year-old BOY stand's in the center of the
room, untouched by the chaos that surrounds
him. His face covered in shadow. Silent and
unmoving.
Olden wipes the blood and drool from his chin.
OLDEN
I just wanna help—
BOY
Help me?
The boy steps forward so that his mouth peeks
out of the shadows.
OLDEN
Yes, I--
BOY
The others thought
they could, but look
at them now.
OLDEN
I'm not like all the
others.
BOY
You can't help me,
Jack.
OLDEN
I can. I know I--
BOY
Liar!
The boy's depthless eyes grow cold and
intense.
BOY
You think you know what I'm going
through!?
Olden slams against the pillar. His eyes go
bloodshot, face twisting in pain.
BOY
You think you know my
pain!?
Blood oozes out between Olden's clenched
teeth. The spear digs deeper into his chest.
His knuckles whiten as he tries desperately to
keep it at bay.
BOY
You can't help me.
OLDEN
I can! I know I can!
Listen--
BOY
No one can!
The spear goes deeper as Olden groans in
agony.
BOY
(whisp
ers)
You can't stop me
either.
INT. OLDEN'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT
Streetlights shine through the window blinds
painting white lines across the dim
background.
Jack Olden wakes up, sweat soaked and
breathing heavily. It's the same Jack, only
now he's 38. His face looks weathered,
chiseled, rugged and if you look deeper into
his eyes, you can see that this man has been
to hell and back.
INT. HOUSE — DAY
(you would read as “Interior house...day.” followed by any description of the scene or characters)
That’s basically it. I’m attaching a script entitled “RAIN” I would like to hear narrator perform the script below. Since there won’t be any characters to play off of the narrator can simply pause between each part.
A BLACK SCREEN.
The sound of POURING RAIN followed by:
The sound of a STEADY HEARTBEAT. With every
THUMP appears:
-- The profile of a man in the darkness as he
painfully inhales.
-- Rain, pouring in through shattered
skylights that span the ceiling.
-- The man exhales in sloppy exhaustion.
-- Large Oriental statues, weapons and
artifacts, strewn about in disarray, sprinkled
with shattered glass and splintered wood.
-- The man's brow wrinkles as he forces air
into his lungs once again.
-- Lifeless bodies, mangled and twisted,
painful to look at.
-- The man cringes as he coughs up a mouthful
of blood.
INT. MUSEUM -- NIGHT
A large and cavernous space supported by
massive pillars.
The man, JACK OLDEN, 28, is pinned to one of
the chambers large columns. His head hangs
low, hands clasping the spear that impales
below his chest. From the looks of things he
should be dead, instead, he speaks:
OLDEN
(exhau
sted)
Look, kid, this has
to stop...
An 8-year-old BOY stand's in the center of the
room, untouched by the chaos that surrounds
him. His face covered in shadow. Silent and
unmoving.
Olden wipes the blood and drool from his chin.
OLDEN
I just wanna help—
BOY
Help me?
The boy steps forward so that his mouth peeks
out of the shadows.
OLDEN
Yes, I--
BOY
The others thought
they could, but look
at them now.
OLDEN
I'm not like all the
others.
BOY
You can't help me,
Jack.
OLDEN
I can. I know I--
BOY
Liar!
The boy's depthless eyes grow cold and
intense.
BOY
You think you know what I'm going
through!?
Olden slams against the pillar. His eyes go
bloodshot, face twisting in pain.
BOY
You think you know my
pain!?
Blood oozes out between Olden's clenched
teeth. The spear digs deeper into his chest.
His knuckles whiten as he tries desperately to
keep it at bay.
BOY
You can't help me.
OLDEN
I can! I know I can!
Listen--
BOY
No one can!
The spear goes deeper as Olden groans in
agony.
BOY
(whisp
ers)
You can't stop me
either.
INT. OLDEN'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT
Streetlights shine through the window blinds
painting white lines across the dim
background.
Jack Olden wakes up, sweat soaked and
breathing heavily. It's the same Jack, only
now he's 38. His face looks weathered,
chiseled, rugged and if you look deeper into
his eyes, you can see that this man has been
to hell and back.
Voice-Seeker Details
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