Fiction Adaptation: Chosen Poem

For the practical aspect of this unit, we are to make a film of 3-5 minutes in length that adapts the literary material from an existing poem onto screen, telling the story in the most creative way possible. Helen gave us a booklet with a set of existing poems to choose from. They all differed hugely, all of which told a story, some with more adaptability than others. I read each of them, keeping in mind potential ideas and thinking about where I could take them. Some were incredibly long which was slightly off putting as I felt like there would be way too much to work with within the time frame of the piece. On the other hand, a few were very short which I thought would make it difficult to produce something that would hold the interest of the audience for the duration of the film. After thinking about each one and writing down a few ideas, I decided to choose 'Building a Second Home as it Sinks into the Sea' by Antosh Wojcik. This poem felt very visual from the first sentence. It begins with the concept of a mannequin, something I felt could be interpreted from lots of different angles. I felt like I got a different impression every time I read it which is what attracted me to it, as it left me to imagine a few ideas. I also liked the description the poet used to illustrate a coastal environment, almost in quite an abstract fashion which could also allow me to be as creative as I like with my film.

'Building a Second Home as it Sinks into the Sea' by Antosh Wojcik.

There is a mannequin sunbathing next to us.
We can't tell if it's ours. We didn't give him a name
or barcode him with a birthmark. He is naked.
The police are asking him to leave,
there are children here, they are too young
for the smooth of him. His blank eyes
read the sunbeams. He says nothing.
We are throwing stones into Brighton's ocean
lips while we try to solve each problem.
Pebbles talk in skims on wave skin,
I hurl so many goodbyes the day winds down
into pier lights. I see a tanker resting
on the horizon and say to my sister,
I can sink that boat with this stone.
I don't account for size and distance.
She says, it's nice being this far from home,
avalanches her feet into the tide,
it's nice to be lost somewhere no one can get you.
I have been picked clean by sky-piranhas,
they thought I was a basket of chips carrying a heart.
My sister says, you look thin, If you die soon, 
can I eat your ribs? What would you do 
if you were on Grand Design Revisited
and you came home to see the changes 
and everyone inside had been cut up 
and their skin was used for wallpapering?
My head falls off. She points at the skeleton
of the burned down pier, asks if she did that
I want to tell her that she burns everything
she touches. She lights a cigarette with hand-fire,
starts walking to the B&B we are calling home.
The mannequin has been arrested, his indent
is all that is left on the beach. A waxwork
sits next to me, naked, shiny-dull with night
light. I hope she doesn't fall asleep here,
I don't want to find her melted body
in the morning, clutching the rocks
I will launch into the sea for the whole of tomorrow.