M&M
An elderly man's daily struggle to keep the memory of romance alive.
This world has so many moving parts. You can never know what fleeting moment, sensation, or symbolic visual could seize one’s attention, and make the path of one’s story… turn.
Such is especially true with Mary and Michael, who met at the tender age of twelve. In their 80s now, so much of their lives has changed; the ravages of time and the all-too-familiar horror of Alzheimers has Mary in its cold grip.
As M&M opens, the two sit across from each other at the kitchen table. In their decades of married companionship, that’s something they’ve done a million times before. Not that Mary remembers now.
MICHAEL
(softly)
Good morning, sweetheart.
Mary looks at him, her eyes clouded with confusion.
MARY
Do I know you?
Michael’s heart sinks.
Wandering to a cabinet, he pulls out a bag and pours something into a jar.
CANDY. Good old fashioned M&Ms.
Reaching across the table, he puts a green M&M in her hand.
And in Mary’s eyes, something stirs. A memory – one as personal and profound as it gets.
As John Staat’s tale unwinds, we’re given a glimpse into this commited couples’ past and childhood, seeing for ourselves why a green M&M can get to Mary, even now. No, it’s nothing scandalous. Rather, a touching, sweet moment that forever changed two children’s (and now elders’) lives.
So many of us have experienced first hand the stolen moments Alzheimers and aging rips from our loved ones. Only three pages long, M&M (and especially its last visual) is a tear jerker. If filmed as gently and careful as Michael is with love of his life Mary, it’ll be sure to kindle memories with film audiences, as well.