White-Out

“White-Out”  

short version: Black screen. “Get up! Everyone ready in five minutes!”etc. A military patrol of a dozen men, somewhere in central Eastern Europe, is called on a surprise reconnaissance mission in the forest in the middle of the night. The officer in charge treats it as a test; the men are far from pleased but obey nevertheless. (...) They return to the base after completing their –clearly, as heavily commented upon- useless mission. Camera on their vehicle approaching: the bemused driver slows down and taps the officer on the arm: "Sir, look at that!" The officer, who was studying a map, looks up (in our direction) and, startled, exclaims: "What's going on here?"

Cut to opening credits.

They stand in front of an empty camp. They enter it cautiously: the entire camp appears to have been emptied of its troops. The patrol take out their weapons, approach the HQ cautiously, enter, investigate, discover that everyone has indeed disappeared. No trace of violence, nothing broken, no message left behind. Is this a test they wonder -Is this the real test? the officer replies. Secretly troubled, he orders his men to treat it as an exercise, tells them to lay traps, road-blocks in preparation for a possible assault. They barricade themselves in the camp; try to keep up their concentration despite their fatigue. What disturbs him mostly is what the radio operator reveals to him: told to get in contact with other troops or a higher officer, he can't find any. In fact, there is total silence on all frequencies; nobody answers the phone anywhere. They are left to themselves. The officer then concludes that what is happening goes beyond a mere exercise; it is a genuine act of war, and so he informs his troop.

(...), taking turns to sleep and keep guard, but nothing happens. Nothing the next day either.

After a while, the officer decides to form and dispatch a mini-patrol to the neighbouring town. Once there, the five men discover that everybody else has disappeared. They report back to the officer, who decides to go and search the nearest town: cue more empty streets and houses.

The officer decides to retreat to the base. He radioes the men there to announce their return, but no-one answers; he tries again: still no answer ...Have they vanished too? He confides in his three companions that the lesson seems to be never to split, always stick together against this mysterious enemy whose strategy seems to be "divide and conquer". Then the radio comes back to life, making them jump. The base operator answers, claiming a technical problem for his tardiness in replying. The officer decides to gather all his men in one place, just in case. One of them suggests that there is no point in returning to the base; it was affected like the rest of the country, thereby proving to be no haven. If anything, the mountain where they went on patrol seems to be the only safe place. All things being equal though, they might as well take up camp somewhere else ...a bit more comfortable for example. Or should they just go forth and explore? (...) should go investigate what is happening? The officer suggests that the rest of the troops joining them in town should –at the very least- bring as much military equipment as they can, an idea that gets everyone's approval.

An hour later, the rest of the troop turn up fully armed. But not all of them: two men, after hearing that the situation is the same in town, have deserted; this news infuriates the officer who curses them, threatens them with court-martial and all disciplinary procedures as soon as he catches up with them. Some men start to laugh at his rantings, but contain themselves. The men from the base are eager to hear what the patrol have found out. "Er... nothing, anywhere" is the answer. Not even a clue? No. By then the men are freaking out, and the officer is at a loss for an answer. He is still determined to maintain discipline, and orders them to travel to the country's capital (the radio is still silent).

(...) nobody answers. They understand that the radio broadcast tapes must have been automatically programmed. Same thing with TV channels: nothing live on most channels, the only programmes shown are following a preset course; after a while, all transmissions come to an end.

By now, military discipline has all but exploded (...). The officer is obliged to abandon his hierarchical mindframe, and formally orders them to dress down as they please -which they were already doing anyway. Some men feel despondent; they look up to him for guidance, ask him what is going on, what are they going to do –all sorts of questions that he can't answer. Others are elated: consumerist fantasy of "We have the city to ourselves!" cue scenes showing them going on all-day benders, looting shops at will, destroying for fun.

Some men discuss what might have happened: some kind of neutron bomb that supposedly killed anything alive but left the buildings intact? Someone remarks that animals have vanished too. It's true, they realise that they haven't heard birds, bees, or insects for days. Someone remarks that meat at the butchers should have evaporated too; instead, it remains intact. So it's got to be heart-beats that attracted the destroying agent, they reckon. Still doesn't account for their own survival in the forest; maybe they ought to go back there as a safety move...

(...) the remaining men agree, and instantly elect Ludwig, to the officer's dismay. “OK, meeting dismissed" is his first decision, and the men disperse, back to their drinking and looting sprees.

Ludwig and his group explore the rest of the town, looking for clues. Everything humans got accustomed to is now suddenly conspicuous by its absence: no noises, smoke clouds in the sky, social / army codes, rules and regulations. Eery silence for once in the now empty town: programmed street lights still light up regularly though. Suddenly, they hear noise nearby: it turns out to be some shop windows shutters automatically closing at six p.m. They discuss whether to stay here, move back to the forest, or travel. The latest option is the most popular. The group gradually disintegrates, with some men no longer keeping in touch and dropping out: have they been killed too? Existential questions arise: maybe the patrol has been chosen to survive, that's why they were sent on a mission away from the wipe-out in the first place; maybe they are under surveillance at every single moment as part of a giant scheme; maybe they will have to rebuild the human race (but there's no woman, if that were the point of the bizarre experiment)... Restlessness is growing; more men depart. Only seven remain.

Then the next day, one of the men, surveying the horizon from a cathedral tower, spots some kind of whitish blur in the distance, all over the horizon: is it a fire, a tsunami? He raises the alarm: phoning, ringing the bell, smashing shop windows and car windscreens to set off their alarms in order to get everyone's attention.

"Quick, quick, the enemy is at hand, maybe it's closing in on us!" he tells those who turn up; tells them what he has just discovered. Three men sticking together decide to go and investigate, the rest should prepare to defend or leave the town.

The trio's car tears up the deserted highway in the white vision's direction: eery glow at the end of the road; then they slow down, and turning a bend at the top of a hill, are confronted with the awesome sight of what appears to be some kind of wall ending the world, covering the whole length of the horizon. Turning off their sports car engine, they hear some kind of electric hum: What is it? Is it engineered? Should they shoot at it, they wonder.  But would this be considered aggressive by the entity? Then again, wouldn't that be their only line of defence? For one thing, they all agree that no-one wants to go and feel for themselves what's behind or simply touch it. (Subtle white noise, great easy light effect like blinding UV rays.) The more they (...)

and raise the alarm to alert everyone: some of the other guys might be asleep. After a while, all the time looking nervously over their shoulder at the growing eery glow that offsets nightfall, they finish packing up, ditch most of the precious military equipment they had prepared (which is of no use anymore), and leave the city in a convoy at dawn.

One man left behind (the murderer) wakes up the next day feeling weird. Tosses and turns, hears some kind of strange "white noise", clamps the pillow to his ears, finally gets up, opens the blinds and is faced, open mouthed, with the white wall. The wall is moving over the next buildings and closing in on him (fifty, then fourty meters away: speed to be determined). He runs away in a panic, stubs his toe, gets half-dressed, takes the outside elevator (which grants him full view of the giant blob), escapes on foot , then finds his car, reverses away from the end of the road now engulfed by the white thing. The car chase scene is complicated by the fact that some roundabouts lead him back to the wall. He panics, loses his sense of direction what with the multiples corners he takes, all tyres screaming. Faced with a road-block that prevents his exit (made up of the sports cars he previously blew up, now piled up across the street), he punches his steering wheel, curses, then veers off the road to maintain his direction away from the thing. Drives right through a shopping centre. (...) Blinded (close-up of his face, which excludes any glimpse of his environment), he gropes his way around and finally stops, terrified: the white noise is getting louder. His face is violently lit. Zoom out: he is right in front of the white mass. He turns, and walks right into it.

The group of survivors flee down South: they reach the Mediterranean Sea. They pause, and explore the town. They find a TV station, and after debating the possible dangers of attracting attention to themselves, launch an appeal to whoever is watching: can any viewer come and join them at this place where they have set up camp? They wait a day or two, but no-one appears.

Still, they continue broadcasting, taking turns to repeat the same simple message, which turns less and less guarded / formal and more and more desperate; in the end, they spell out everything they have been through, with no regard for confidentiality.

A few days later. Someone on the look-out spots what must be a forest fire on the horizon, quite noticeable in in the night-time. But then, they make out that this white line covers the entire 180 degrees: it's the white wall. Time to pack up.

The group sail over to North Africa, and decide to travel as far south as they can. The officer suggests they take a plane, a small one, of the kind he used to be able to pilot. They first refuse as they don’t trust him. Ludwig proposes that he practices. The officer does, and soon masters the art of flying again.

(...) again? Still, they don't know for sure if this thing is actually swallowing things, or just passing over like some sort of dense, solid, "earth cloud". Maybe they have been wrong all along and this thing poses no danger? Maybe they should just experience it and see what’s behind? They all look at each other, nobody wants to try for himself. When in doubt, better keep well away from possible death. Then someone suggests flying back, and trying to fly over it: this "earth cloud" doesn't extend all the way up, maybe it’s only a front and doesn’t extend behind... Could try to cross it then? They debate the idea, but then the pilot announces that, tempting as the idea is, he wouldn't be able to try just yet anyway, as he needs to land soon. They reach a deserted base, and refuel. They plan their next journey; set off for South Africa.

(...) the pilot is knackered. He goes to sleep and, as always, they try to establish communications in the control tower, sending messages in all directions. Then someone takes a look at the radar equipment, and discovers a huge blob creeping up. He calls his mates over: "Take a look at that, it's already appearing!" "It can't be! Not so soon!" "Yes, there can be no doubt it's the same thing, but... it seems to be down South on this screen..." Someone, hope against hope, prays: "Hang on, surely you're reading it the wrong way, you mean it's up North? Tell me you mean this thing is situated up North...?" -"No no, this one's deffo coming from down South!" They stare at the flashing screen: a huge blob appears on the radar, unmistakably progressing in the opposite direction, moving up North from the Southern pole. How did it manage to come so fast, and from the opposite direction? There can only be one answer to this new mystery, they realise with horror... Still can't bring themselves to verbalise it for a while as they stare, transfixed / glued to the screen: this can only indicate the existence of another such border awaiting them on the other side. Finally, someone spells it out: they are trapped between two advancing fronts.

Some of them then snap out of it, explain that they have no choice but to travel back up north between the two fronts. They refuel, get ready, wake up the pilot to whom they explain the situation. He is at first crestfallen, but after a while gets a grip. They prepare to take off again: the other "earth cloud" is now visible in the distance. Gobsmacked, they stare at the camera (that is standing in for the cloud); the camera swivels to reveal that this cloud is not white, but black. They stand, hypnotised by the spectacle, until they snap out of it: one of the men has just shot himself. They take off. (...)

Someone else points out the weird colour theme: black meets white -Surely, that must mean something? It has to be somehow engineered; if otherwise a natural phenomenon, both would be the same colour. Wouldn’t they? Out of the meeting of the two opposites a new world must be born? Terrified as he is, he wants to be there when contact is made. The plane lands in an African base. The men stretch out their legs, drink, take a nap... Someone works out that the black wall may be a couple of days away and the white one possibly three or four, but there is no way of calculating for sure: maybe they even gain in speed for all he knows!

The next morning, the group are awakened by the sound of the plane taking off without them. They find a note from the officer explaining that he has mulled over their theory long and hard, and has decided to test it on his own: he will attempt to fly over the white wall; there is only one way of knowing, and if he goes down, he will go down with the ship. He can’t go on fleeing when there’s nowhere left to flee anyway. He wishes them good luck.

They drive back south, where they easily spot the darkness approaching. One of them decides to attack the black wall, charges at it, unloading his weapon all the while. The two last men let him (...) and await the final convergence, exchanging final words. The noise grows. The screen turns to white, then black, then white. White noise prevails, for a good thirty seconds.

The End.

Cheeky soundtrack: the Stranglers-Just like nothing on Earth ; Bauhaus-The sky has gone out; Peter and the Test Tube Babies-Key to the City; Blondie-Fade away and radiate; closing song: Dead Can Dance-Avatar. This being said, scenes should be generally silent, thereby adding a new kind of tension. copyright Loig Allix Thivend, July 2001.