Style - Foster The People
Has a John Wick/Kill Bill feel to it.
Has a John Wick/Kill Bill feel to it.
Basic Premise:
Assassin loses his family after being away and decides to quit. No one can quit though, now it’s just people hunting him til he learns the hit on his family was placed and decides to take the fight to them.
Before the song begins -
We’re introduced to a man in a suit, let’s call him Ian. He’s got a dead look in his eyes - numb, closed off. He’s got blood on his cheek, his collar and a split lip.. His suit is wrinkled, a little rough for wear, like he’s been in a fight. He’s in an office, sitting opposite an older man in a suit. The placard on his desk Human Resources - Mr. Smith.
Mr. Smith is talking to Ian, but Ian isn’t really listening. Everything out of Mr. Smith’s mouth is inaudible, mumbled as Ian is lost in his head.
FLASHBACK
Ian’s holding onto someone, a girl, also in a suit. She’s bleeding from a gun wound, she clasps onto Ian, repeating his name - “I-Ian”
Back to present
The third, “Ian” comes from Mr. Smith. Ian is momentarily out of the flashback. Mr. Smith repeats himself, “Right, Ian?”
Ian nods - unaware.
Mr Smith continues, “As I was saying…” Back to inaudible mumbling as Ian enters another flashback.
FLASHBACK
It’s dark, the camera pans to show a house in disarray. There are grunts and screams in the background that slowly die out and giveway to squelching sounds - of something sharp hitting flesh over and over again.
Camera pans to Ian who’s furiously stabbing an already dead man. He breathes heavy, wiping blood off his cheek and smearing it in the process to reflect the present.
He gets up slowly, takes a look around at what he’s wrought and limps out of the house. He’s got bloodied hands and the camera pans as he walks out and shows a foot indicating he might have killed more than just that man. He closes the door behind him
Door closing coincides with a clap and he’s
Back to present
Mr. Smith is finishing whatever he was talking about. “Now that you’ve taken care of your...errands. Let’s get you back up to speed. We’ll find you another part--”
Ian interrupts. “I, uh...I’m-I’m done.”
Mr. Smith looks at Ian, stonefaced. “I’m sorry, wh-
Ian interrupts again and this time, says with more confidence, “I’m done.”
Ian gets up, Mr Smith is trying to reason with him but he’s muffled again, you can make out the words, “You’re far too valuable to just let go. They’re watching. They won’t let you out of the building. You won’t even make it upstairs - They’ll kill you! ”
Ian waves farewell as he opens the door and walks out.
Camera shows Mr. Smith. He’s visibly distressed, torn as he looks at the phone next to him. He sighs. “Fuck.”
Cut to title - “STYLE”
Door closes behind Ian and he makes his way down a hallway. A pair of men in suits and rods? Those beat sticks? appear in the background and point at him, running.
We're born to die so I'm gonna fight for how I wanna live
Ian grimaces as he hears their footsteps, quickens the pace but as he turns the corner he bumps into another man in a suit carrying a gun.
Spark up the riots, guess I'm a criminal and a futurist
Ian throws the first punch, to the throat of the surprised man and takes him down rather quick, picking up the guy’s gun and hiding it just as one hand grabs Ian as he tries to bolt and pulls him onto his back. They loom over him and raise their sticks - they’re saying something but it’s muffled - “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be Ian”
With the charges I've caught, won't stand your trial
Ian lashes out, kicking the guy on the left away. The guy on the right starts to beat him with the stick, Ian protects himself and manages to kick the guys legs out from under him. He pulls out the gun and shoots the guy twice when he falls. Other guy is enraged and kicks Ian in the head, kicks the gun away and continues to beat him with the stick. Ian manages to take one of the rods and moves away.
You can take it out on me, yeah
They circle one another. Raise their rods and yell. Black.
Camera pans to an empty room - there’s grunts, sounds of a fight and then we see Ian knocked back into a wall.
I've been to hell but I've learned to keep my cool
Holdin' onto the Devil, got him by the throat 'cause I refuse
He breathes deeply and spits out blood. He looks up, fire in his eyes and across from him is some huge ass guy cracking his gloved hands. There’s a set of stairs behind him.
Yeah, I won't take my last breath in denial
And you can't take it from me, yeah
Ian stands up, throws the rod in his hand away and assumes a fighting stance. The guy grins and charges him. They yell as they clash
I've seen peaks, been released into the prisons below
My days here disappear, there's things that I can't ignore
Montage side by side of Ian ascending stairs and the people he faces as he fights to the top. Last picture is of his partner gasping for breath.
The sweetest release might take a while
Montage starts with Ian getting his ass handed to him falling flat on his back
So take me out in style
Yeah, you
Yeah, just take me out in style, oh
If you're gonna take me out, take me out in style
Battered and bloody, Ian continues to fight and ends each fight with a stylish twist on the weapon of whoever he was using. Scene ends with him limping up the stairs. Ian reaches the top of the stairs and opens the door. There’s a hallway and at the end of it is an elevator with two guards at the entrance of it. Ian sighs when he reaches them and sees that they’re ready to fight.
Ping! Elevator doors open and Ian is in a bar classy speakeasy vibe of bar. . “STYLE” is playing in the background of the bar. Before the guards at the entrance of the elevator can do anything, Ian jams a knife in both their throats - some people see it and shrug others scramble and run out the door - Ian goes to the bar and sits down.
We're in the lion's den, consumption is our medicine
“Old Fashioned, please.”
“I’m surprised you made it this far.” Bartender says.
“Guess you’ve heard.”
And so I'm high again, you can say I'm a true American
“With all the noise you’ve made? Everyone in the whole buildings probably heard.” Bartender says as he mixes the drink.”
“Yeah, well…” Ian shrugs
Well the sweetest revenge is being set free
You can't take it from me, yeah
“You know, more are coming right? “ Bartender says as he finishes the drink.
“I’m sure.” Ian reaches into his pocket, but the bartender raises a hand and gives him his drink.
“Please,” He winks. “On the house.”
Ian nods and behind him we can see someone important looking heading down the stairs.
Close-up of the man’s shoes as he walks down the stairs and stands behind Ian.
“You know, we hate to lose you, Ian.”
“I know.”
“It’s a shame. Had such potential.” He pulls out a knife. And Ian turns around.
“You can finish your drink you know.”
“I’ll finish it later.”
The man smiles and tosses him a knife. Ian catches it, eyebrows raised.
“Wouldn’t be fair.”
“For you.”
It begins at my end, my death will never survive
I've been cleared of my crimes, don't need no alibi
The sweetest release might take a while
Just take me out in style
Yeah, you
Yeah, just take me out in style, uh
If you're gonna take me out, take me out, take me out in style
*Epic knife fight ensues*
Yeah, you
Well, the sweetest release might take a while
Just take me out, take me out in style
Woo!
Close up of the guys face as he dies gasping after a long struggle with Ian. Camera pans up and Ian is right by him same expression but breathing heavily. He wills himself up, goes to the bar and finishes his drink. He raises his glass to the bartender. “Thanks.” Then goes up the stairs.
Ian limps towards a large door - he’s hurting bad, breathing heavily. Two men stand guard and they tense up when they see Ian.
As Ian reaches them, they transition into a fighting stance, only to hear a voice on the intercom say, “Let him in.”
Guards stand aside. Next shot is Ian walking into what looks like a fancy waiting room. There’s a wooden desk filled with papers and a laptop and a bespectacled lady sits furiously typing. To the right of her a little ways from the desk is another door. She looks up as Ian walks in and nods.
“She’s expecting you.”
Just take me out in style (If you're gonna take me)
Take me in style, If you're gonna love me, love me in style
The sweetest release might take a while
Take me out, take me out in style
If you're gonna fight me, fight me in style
If you're gonna hate me, hate me in style
If you're gonna love me, do it in style
Yeah, just do it in style
Ian goes through the door and walks into an immaculate office. There’s an older lady sitting at a marble desk - it looks like she’s signing something. She doesn’t bother to look up when Ian takes a seat.
“Congratulations on making it this far - no one ever has. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to make you stay?”
Ian rasps out once more, “I’m done.”
“Okay,” She presses a button and a panel in the wall opens up revealing an elevator. The distance between the elevator and the desk isn’t very far, just a few feet. “All you have to do is take that elevator up.”
Ian looks at the elevator and back at her - weary. She isn’t looking at him, she’s back to signing documents. He’s not sure what to think - there’s confusion and doubt in his face - this can’t be it...can it? He has nothing else to do though, so he gets up and limps his way towards the elevator.
As he gets closer, he starts to hobble faster and faster - there’s a squelch noise and Ian let’s out a grunt - switch to first person pov, and he finds blood trickling onto his shirt - show close up of his face and the fountain pen the lady was writing with is lodged deep in his throat.
He falls down into the elevator, gasping his last breaths. Shot of the lady looking at him with disinterested eyes. She sits back down and the door opens - the receptionist from before hurries in and drags Ian into the elevator. The lady clicks a button and the elevator doors close.
She mutters, “Always have to do everything myself.”
Ending line echoes
“Yeah, just do it in style”
STYLE - title appears again, signifying end.