Innocent Children

A Black and Cameron Productions ( non-profit project
directed by Tao Wright for Morning Tears Alliance (

Credit: Art Director/ Sound Designer

Project info >>

Line of thought

As we can’t show the children we will illustrate their plight through emotive cinematography of the mnemonic device, the kite. With beautiful choreography of lighting and camera movement we will capture the mood of the scenes. It will be most important to communicate as much as possible through sound design. I feel the imagination will be left to fill in the gaps, which may even make it more powerful than if we filmed the scene for real. This will be the key to touching our audience without accusing any particular groups of wrong doing. It should not feel like we are targeting any particular socioeconomic groups, rather we want to communicate the sheer helplessness of the ‘innocent children’.

Sound Design

Dummy Head recording ( is a precious tool bringing the movie into a near-first hand sound experience.


As I read the script I could feel the child hiding under the bed. Her little foot disappearing into the shadows at the sound of her parents fighting. Not wanting to be involved. From under the bed she could make out a simple paper kite which looks like its been mended a few times, resting beside the bedroom door. I can hear the light, shortness of breath, so close, as if we are almost beside the scared little child. She may even start to hum a tune to keep her from getting scared. Through the breathing we hear muffled fighting in the next room.

Across the floor the kite with its patches seems to almost breathe in a light breeze. Its simple delicate hand crafted shape illuminated by the occasional passing car’s headlights shining through the bedroom window. Under the door the warm light flickers with action as the fighting gets more angry. Suddenly the sound of a loud slap. A bottle hits the floor. Footsteps running. Commotion. The bedroom door swings open. Scrambled screams. Mum’s hands scratching at the door frame as she is pulled back. A glint of a knife. A terrifying scream. The door jolts open and crashes into the kite, tearing a hole. The grunting and struggling stops. A thud. A traumatic scream. The small patched-up paper kite, slightly visible behind the door now with a new tear in it.

Across the wooden floor, pierced by the old door, the kite. For a moment we feel like time is standing still. Almost in time-lapse the mood shifts. All the time we hear the quiet sobbing of a woman crying. The red and blue of flashing police lights catch the silhouettes of police running past the window, then the sound of them crashing through the outside door. The clink of handcuffs. Muffled sounds of walki-talkies. In the shadow play on the bedroom wall we see a woman led away. Two large polished boots enter the room.

The kite is put in the back of the police car. The door gently shuts and we are moving. Through the rainy car window we can see the kite almost looking out as the night lights streaking as time blurs. Alone in the darkness. Single streetlights emerge out of the black night and disappearing just as fast into the emptiness.
Abruptly neon lights flicker in an anonymous large empty waiting room. The emptiness feels cold. The kite is barely visible through the mass of chairs. Through the chair legs we can see a couple of pairs of feet huddled around the kite tail dangling. We see the gentle touch of kind hands repairing the kite as the warm morning sunlight pierces through the neon flicker.

A new string is tied to the handmade kite frame and in the fresh morning air of a local park we see the kite now being passed to a young child’s hands. The happy sounds of anticipation is infectious. And as the young child runs through the long grass we can make out the repaired patch and although it looks more dirty now the kite catches a gust of wind and soars into the morning sky. It lifts higher and higher.