What is Hyv?

Hyv logoHyv was originally short for Hypervideo when I coined it 6 years ago. It became an architectural (both content architecture and technical architecture) term for the teams I work with for use of and implementation of interactive tv/film/transmedia interface… …where in the data/metadata that would be in the hypervideo would be transportable/interoperable. Further taking it to be “layerable” We have pushed for half a decade for browsers to implement transparent synced layers. The “hyv” layer then would have metadata etc for implementation both with HTML5 & the Hyv layers…making it transferrable to other medium and artifacts. Hyv makes hypervideo/hyperaudio/hypetext/hypersync and AR equal. It makes it easier in our specific implementation for interactive film/television, game development that is heavily based on video and platforms outside the screen including augmented reality, transmedia and multi-platform and artifacts in the real world. It has lead to us creating what we call portkeys, wormholes, & horcruxes (artifacts that are keys in the real world)…That are portals within, into and between stories and productions, that link to the outside world and that link to integrated retail. It has also raised the spectre of varying timecodes/timeclocks in story/audience worlds.
We also have been lately using the term in naming an initiative we have been forming between game developers, filmmakers, journalists, web development etc… to Innovate Storycube content architecture via Transmedia and more integrated forms of Content with geo-location, the cloud, the browser, augmented reality and inventing a new writing format for story inception.

Math – The Passion of Alan Turing

Math
The Passion of Alan Turing

by dl willson
Opening Scene


open to :

A hand… an apple is picked up from a pile.  It is held.  It is injected with a syringe. It is slowly about to be placed on an old kitchen table.  Diane Birch’s “Magic View” plays

( http://open.spotify.com/track/7IoGPqAKsP5ItCqO8ZfVG6)

Ext. Turing Home – Sunrise

We open on a house, in the words of Joyce’s Araby, “at the blind end, detached from its neighbours in a square ground.”  Tracking in slowly we hear a mumble

V.O.

Morcom.

…and the year,”1954″, appears on the screen.  Like pings of noise, or Brad Pitt in Fight Club …there are flashes of frames of the violence of WWII, the holocaust, the great strike, upheaval in India, computer keys being typed, the noise of the city, the iPhone, computers, city streets, celebrations of D-Day, gay pride, Iran twitter feeds, etc.

…and silence, again, as the tracking stops,… framing the lonely English house.

cut to:

Int. Bedroom – continuous

We cut inside to a partial view of a man mumbling in his sleep as the sun is trying to creep around the pulled shades. We see a glimpse of what may seem like a breast…but it is definitively a man’s voice whispering a man’s name.

Alan

Morcom…Please Morcom….please.


We see his shadow wake and exit.

cut to:

Int. Kitchen – moments later

Apples sit on the table in a disorganized kitchen.  The figure passes them.

We see running shoes packed behind others and the figure passes them and steps back into frame looking at them.

Ext. Turing House – soon after

The sun is just rising as Alan Turing, 41, is exiting in proper running clothing, the shape of what seems like breasts show through his thin running shirt.  As he is walking to the road a day worker comes around the corner. Turing sees him and stares for just a moment before heading back into the house.

cut to:

Ext. Turing’s House – later

Turing is about to run from his front yard, when a worker comes walking up the road. Turing turns to head back in.  He drops a large sweater he was carrying but decides not to retrieve it. The worker notices Turing drop the sweater and retrieves it.

Worker

Sir?!


Turing stops and half turns. Smiling large like that of a man who helped his country defeat the biggest evil the modern world had ever seen.

Worker

You dropped your sweater, it’d be big enough

you’d think yo…


The man notices Turing’s small breasts… …and stares before his reaction changes.  Turing sees his reaction but ignores it.

Turing

yes. Well, …I am getting older


Turing chuckles to the man staring in disgust.

Turing (cont.)

I seem to forget things… Well thank you

Worker

What the bollocks is wrong with your…


Turing turns to enter back to his house.

Turing

Thank you.


He heads back toward the house as the man continues on his way.

Int. Turing Kitchen – moments later

The apple is in Turing’s hands as he places it down on the table near the pile from which he had gotten it.  He goes to the window to see if anyone is now in sight.  He puts on the sweater.

cut to:
Ext. English Roadside – Late Morning

We see him running sweating profusely from wearing a large over-sized sweater in the middle of the summer.  His feet get louder as poem rolls over in his head.



Turing (V.O.)

Hyperboloids of wondrous Light
Rolling for aye through Space and Time
Harbour those Waves which somehow Might
Play out God’s holy pantomime

He repeats this over and over to the rhythm of his feet.  As we watch the feet…

fade to:

Ext. Railroad Tracks – Day

…they become a child’s over railroad tracks.  We hear Indian dialects shouting like a market merging and fading from his poem. We see Turing at 8 years old running along tracks with a note in his hand.  It is a telegraph from his parents… He falls.

Superimposed image. of the scene his mother is describing in the telegraph- India in the 20’s and we follow a man arguing with a group of Indian men to place the railroad ties correctly…as they sit watching.  It is Julius Turing…

I have said since we started this one in March I wanted the visual look of it to be influenced by The Secret of Roan Inish & Underneath the Skin with hints at City of Lost Children, Brazil & The Wizard of Oz. Now as we prep for layering VFX (from Dragon Fire to magic wind & trees & undersea things)… And the layers of Hyv (interface)… I believe we are creating something visually different than anyone has done before… Fingers crossed.

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