Dagmar Travner


A screenplay of the short-film „GELOCHT“ (‘Holes’) by Dagmar Travner after her mystery stage play “Empty Shells, Holes”


Heike: Crochet artist
Lotte: Drilling artist
Clara: Heike’s 13 year old daughter
Marzipan: A gallery owner

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[text – white font on black ground]

As soon as
a star looses

all its shells
the mass is compressed & collapses
into the standstill
of a black

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[various shots of snowy countrysides, lots of snow!!]
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[in the farmhouse, late evening, Heike over-crocheting some small item. The room is full of over-crocheted things, even most of the furniture is enveloped.]
Hole! Holes! A hole! Two holes?
Not again. And why?
Hole. Is this a hole? Not really? That’s a hole. Now all of a sudden: Every day a hole!
Mice! Or moths? Do we have moths?
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[her daughter Clara enters the room]
Good night, mum!
O.k. Clara, yes... Good night and sleep well, my mousie!
Yeah, good night. [Clara leaves the room]
Clara? Did she do it?
No, impossible. Mice or moths? Or... is something sharp lying around? No, nothing. This hole. There! Another one, rather tiny, you can scarcely see it. Yet!
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[Heike crocheting constantly]
It’s getting larger. Does Clara cut holes in my work? No, after all she is reasonable. And happy here, isn’t she... yes sure, the countryside is good for her.
Perhaps back then... when her city friend Manu didn’t really ease the change... At that time when the mouse mother was trapped... and silly enough I drowned it... afterwards all the tiny mice crept out - such helpless, such cuddly little things.
In fact Lotte should have done away with them. But she gave them secretly to Clara and she passed them to Manu at her next visit. And Manu didn’t know better than to sell the mice in the city at five Euros per piece. Typically Manu.
But Clara likes being here outside. She likes to go to school. The long bus ride doesn’t matter to her. Tomorrow it might be snowing. Thus we’ll be leaving earlier.
Hopefully she is sleeping by now.
[A deafening drilling noise starts all of a sudden]
No! Lotte won’t actually be working at this time. Clara has to sleep. And I need my
peace! My solitude when working. I don’t want any trouble makers! Why else should I work at dead of night?
Night children. Finish. Must darn the hole. No getting around that. [the drilling noise stops]
Eventually. Hopefully real peace now. Lotte is somehow...
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[Lotte enters the room]
I’ll be hitting the hay! Do you need anything else?
Tea and sandwiches are prepared for you. You have to get up earlier tomorrow morning, it’s snowing!
Yes, I’ve already thought of that.
Did you see my drill-bit?
The titanium drill-bit! Did you tidy up the workshop again?
No! Why should I?
I’m just looking into the crochet basket!
No! Are you crazy?
Good night!
Good... [Lotte leaves the room]
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[Heike crocheting persistently]
Maybe it was a mistake to burn our ships. To be at the mercy of this... this wilderness. Nonsense. Wasteland.
Nuts. This crocheting confuses me completely. And the snow. Yes, the snow.
Three years ago... the snow came very early in our first year. The snow brought me the inspiration. My old paintings crocheted all over. All covered. What liberation! I felt deliberated, indeed. Thought I couldn’t stand this solitude at all. My whole creativity gone. Completely nada. Nix. Nought. Nil. Slugs. A bare nothing. Holes in the brain.
And then there was the snow. This whiteness. The whole landscape, the houses covered, coated, hooded by the snow. Everything enveloped. This was the beginning...
So, the hole is mended. Away. Actually a mended hole isn’t a hole anymore.


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[text – white font on black ground]

into pure energy
the black hole evaporates

[fading out. credits. the end.]

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Watch the short-film GELOCHT (27 minutes, in German!) on YouTube:

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