Seventeen-year-old Parker is in a hospice with his dad, watching his mum breathe her last breath. When she does, Parker begins to speak via voice-over: “The last thing I said to my mum was that her wee smelled like Sugar Puffs. She smiled from the corner of her mouth and told me it hurt to do so. She died four minutes later.” The room is plunged into darkness, and a single spotlight shines over Parker as if he were on a West End stage. Kurogos stealthily appear and wheel away all the elements of the set—drips, monitors, armchairs, even Parker’s mum. We travel with her on the hospital bed, away from Parker, leaving him and his dad under the distant spotlight. “Sad things happen every day. But I quickly became front and centre of this sad story.\" With Parker’s VO guiding us, he leads us through a series of expressionistic vignettes leading up to his mum’s funeral. These moments capture the raw intensity of grief—like when Parker returns to school, and everyone stops to stare. He reflects via VO: “My sad news was the elephant in the room everyone knew about but no one wanted to talk about. At least not to me.” Parker walks us through the endless flowers, awkward text messages, and the formalities of planning the funeral, revealing just how ill-equipped people are when it comes to handling grief, especially for a seventeen-year-old. Meanwhile, his dad has emotionally shut down, leaving Parker to handle things alone. After the funeral, we see mourners at the wake using empty phrases like “you have my heartfelt condolences” or “it was all part of God’s plan,” none of which bring Parker any comfort. The second act culminates with Parker stating, “Grief doesn’t just end at a funeral,” highlighting the growing rift between him and his dad. We finally cut to Parker, who is speaking directly to the camera. He is in the middle of a speech (which we’ve been hearing up until now via VO) addressing twenty other teenagers, all of whom have lost a parent or sibling, in a therapy group. His words become more hopeful: “Instead of my grief getting smaller, my life got bigger.” We cut to a montage of images as Parker’s life moves forward—he kisses a girl, dances with his friends, vomits into a toilet, bails on his skateboard, and watches television with his old man.
Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4: \"To everything there is a season... a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.\" I’m adapting this passage and focusing on the story of a grieving teenager in the wake of losing his mum. It’s a very personal story about how the messiness of grief clashes with the chaos of adolescence. It captures a period that was tough for all of us, even without having to deal with the death of a parent or sibling. Drawing inspiration from Goodfellas and Trainspotting, a restless camera will cut and transition to the rhythm of Parker\'s voice-over, highlighting the highs and lows of losing someone close, especially at such a young age. The film will also address how, as a nation, we Brits have a complete unwillingness to talk about death in an open and frank manner, irrespective of creed, culture, or age.