$MOREMore support
A burned-out single mother joins an underground support collective that promises 'more support' but demands total surrender, forcing her to fight for her son before the group erases them both.
A burned-out single mother joins an underground support collective that promises 'more support' but demands total surrender, forcing her to fight for her son before the group erases them both.
Synopsis
In a hyper-connected city where everyone scrolls alone, architect Elena Voss juggles a failing firm and a withdrawn son until she stumbles into an invite-only collective that offers real human presence at any hour. What begins as late-night talks and shared meals quickly escalates into choreographed interventions, career ultimatums, and ritual public confessions that tighten around her like a second skin. As Elena uncovers the group's hidden history of engineered breakups and identity erasures, she must decide how much of herself—and her child—she is willing to trade for belonging.
The story
Elena, drowning in deadlines and playground drop-offs, receives a mysterious card at her son's school leading her to the collective's first warm, candlelit gathering where strangers seem to know her pain intimately.
The group's support turns coercive: Elena's boss is confronted, her ex is tracked, and her son begins parroting collective slogans, pushing her to question reality while members close ranks and threaten exposure of her private files.
Elena stages a public rupture at the collective's annual assembly, exposing their manipulative archives on every member's phone, reclaiming her autonomy and offering genuine, messy support to those ready to leave with her.
The cast
Thirty-eight, razor-sharp architect whose precision at work masks total collapse at home after her divorce.
dream cast: Rachel Weisz
Nine-year-old son caught between his mother's exhaustion and the collective's seductive certainty.
dream cast: Jacob Tremblay
Magnetic founder who built the collective from her own breakdown, now convinced control equals care.
dream cast: Cate Blanchett
Former member and investigative journalist who lost everything to the group and now lives off-grid.
dream cast: Oscar Isaac
Therapist on the collective's payroll who quietly funnels patients into its embrace.
dream cast: Mindy Kaling
Elena's sharp-tongued sister who reappears when the collective threatens custody of Marcus.
dream cast: Zoe Saldana
Dream crew
in the style of Denis Villeneuve — tension and emotional intimacy
in the style of Charlie Kaufman — fractured identity and longing
in the style of Max Richter — haunting minimalism with warmth
Cold open
INT. ELENA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT Rain streaks the window. Elena (38) sits at her drafting table, blue light from three monitors carving shadows under her eyes. A half-eaten microwave meal congeals beside her. From the next room, the muffled sound of a kids' show plays. She glances at her phone: 47 unread messages, none from anyone who knows her. A knock at the door. She freezes. No one visits. Through the peephole: a plain white envelope on the mat. She opens the door, picks it up. Inside, a single card: "You don't have to do this alone. 11pm. 47th & Mercer. Come as you are." She looks back at her dark apartment, then at the card. Her shoulders drop an inch.
Why now
Post-pandemic isolation has left audiences starving for stories that confront how we weaponize connection while desperately needing it; this film captures that ache with propulsive thriller energy and ends on hard-won hope.
Yours to lead the raise on — you keep 99%, and bMovies holds 1% of every token (our cut for minting it and running the platform).
Sign in as @decat2025 to claim itClaim with the X account that posted the tweet. Then the whole package above is yours to edit.
Tokenise it — on your chain
Connect your own wallet and mint $MORE on the chain you want — no bMovies account needed. You keep 99%. bMovies takes a 1% listing fee in tokens to list it on the platform.
Screenplay draft
Title: More Support Credit: Written by Author: Working Screenwriter Draft date: October 10, 2024 Contact: support@morethefilm.com FADE IN: INT. RICO’S LOFT - NIGHT Three monitors glow acid-green in the dark. Empty Celsius cans crowd the desk. RICO VALE, late 20s, sits hunched in a faded black hoodie, forearms pale under cold monitor light. His tired eyes reflect scrolling charts. The phone in his hands lights his face from below. Green candles climb the screen. The words MORE SUPPORT flash in all caps across the top. Rico scrolls the price feed with his thumb. The line ticks up, then flatlines, then spikes again. Notification pings stack silently in the corner. Rico leans closer. The phone’s glow cuts the blackout-curtain darkness into sharp rectangles. His thumb pauses on a tweet. The feed refreshes. Another green candle. Another. He exhales through his nose. The cursor on the nearest monitor blinks on a Notion page titled $MORE WHITEPAPER. Rico glances at it, then back to the phone. His free hand hovers over the keyboard, not typing yet. The price feed jumps another tenth of a cent. Rico’s eyes narrow. He tilts the phone, watching the chart stretch taller. A second monitor shows Discord logs printed and taped to the wall, edges curling. The third monitor runs a live terminal, white text on black. Rico sets the phone flat on the desk. The green light still paints his jaw. He rubs his eyes once, then picks the phone up again. The chart refreshes. MORE SUPPORT pulses. He scrolls slower now, thumb moving line by line through the feed. Outside the window, sodium-vapor streetlight leaks yellow through the curtains. Inside, the monitors keep pulsing green. Rico stares at the screen until the next candle prints. His shoulders stay still. Only his thumb moves. INT. RICO’S LOFT - NIGHT Three monitors throw acid-green chart lines across the sagging couch. Empty Celsius cans crowd the floor beside a whiteboard scrawled with tokenomics. RICO VALE hunches forward, forearms pale under the screen glow, the same black hoodie stiff with three days of wear. His cursor blinks on the Notion page titled "$MORE WHITEPAPER." The door opens. MIKO TRAN steps in carrying two cups of instant ramen, steam curling against the cold monitor light. Her sharp bob catches the blue edge of the middle screen. She sets one cup beside Rico without comment. RICO Liquidity numbers look clean. If we push the contract tonight the bonding curve stays flat for the first twelve hours. MIKO You still calling it "more support"? RICO It’s the only line that tested above 70 percent click-through. People want the word. Feels like it means something. Miko pulls the lid off her own cup. The smell of cheap seasoning fills the space between the keyboard clatter and the low hum of the tower fans. MIKO Rico, support isn’t a smart contract. It’s a person who answers at 3 a.m. Rico stops typing. The price feed on the left monitor ticks upward half a cent, then holds. He glances at the ramen, then back at the screen. RICO We can code the 3 a.m. part. Auto-DM bot routes to a rotating on-call wallet. MIKO That’s not what I said. She sits on the arm of the couch, Moleskine notebook balanced on her knee. A single handwritten number shows through the thin paper—someone’s phone from last month’s Discord thread. MIKO When the chart goes red the bot goes quiet. A real person picks up. RICO We’re building the person. That’s the whole point of the whitepaper. The middle monitor pings. A new tweet notification slides across the green line. Rico leans in, already half-lost to the feed. Miko watches the side of his face lit by the rising candle. MIKO Just make sure the person still exists after the chart dies. Rico nods without looking up, fingers already moving again. The ramen beside him cools, untouched. INT. RICO’S LOFT - NIGHT Three monitors cast acid-green chart lines across a sagging couch. Empty Celsius cans stack beside printed Discord logs scrawled with tokenomics. Cold monitor blue cuts through blackout curtains. RICO VALE, tired eyes reflecting the screen, hunches in the same black hoodie, forearms pale under laptop tan. His cursor blinks on the $MORE WHITEPAPER Notion page. MIKO TRAN steps into the doorway holding two cups of instant ramen, sharp bob catching the glow. MIKO You still calling it "more support"? RICO It’s the only line that tested above 70 percent click-through? JAX HARLAN (O.S.) Sloan Kade just quoted our contract in his bio! Rico’s phone vibrates against the desk. The price feed spikes from 0.0003 to 0.0012 in thirty seconds. Green candles climb like fever lines. Notification pings stack over the keyboard clatter. RICO Wait—pull it up. Is that real volume or just bots? Miko sets the ramen down and leans over his shoulder. The whiteboard behind them lists liquidity-pool math half-erased. MIKO Rico, slow down. That’s real money moving. JAX HARLAN bursts from the bathroom, gym-built arms flexing, neck tattoo of a wallet address visible above his collar. He laughs at his own volume. JAX I told you the tagline would stick! "More support" is printing. Look at the replies—people are already calling us the anti-rug crew. RICO It’s not printing yet. We haven’t even signed the pool transaction. If this gets out before we’re ready— Another ping. The chart ticks higher. Rico’s voice lifts at the end like a question. RICO We’re still just testing, right? Miko’s Moleskine sits open on the arm of the couch, first page blank except for three phone numbers. MIKO Support isn’t a smart contract, it’s a person who answers at 3 a.m. Remember that before you hit go. Jax grabs a can, shakes it, finds it empty, tosses it toward the pile. JAX Dude, Sloan quoting us means the test is over. We list tonight or we lose the window. Rico stares at the climbing candles. The loft hums with low-level pings. The ramen cools untouched. INT. RICO’S LOFT - NIGHT Three monitors throw acid-green chart lines across a sagging couch. Empty Celsius cans litter the floor beside a whiteboard scrawled with tokenomics. RICO VALE hunches at the center screen, hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows, typing the $MORE whitepaper. The cursor blinks after the line “more support.” MIKO TRAN sits cross-legged on the floor, Moleskine open on her knee, flipping through printed Discord logs. She circles a message in red pen. JAX HARLAN leans against the fridge, cracking another can. He laughs at something on his phone. JAX Bro, this one guy already DM’d asking if the token comes with a therapist on speed dial. MIKO Tell him the whitepaper’s still loading. Rico doesn’t look up. His fingers keep moving. RICO Liquidity section’s almost done. If we set the tax at two percent it actually reads like we care. JAX Two percent of nothing is still nothing. Put five. Make it feel generous. MIKO Rico. Read it out loud. The part about the support. RICO (flat, reading) “$MORE exists to give holders more support than any previous contract. Infinite. On-chain. Forever.” Jax snorts, nearly spills the can. JAX Forever until the first rug, right? MIKO (sharp) Jax. Rico stops typing. He rubs his eyes, pale skin catching the monitor blue. RICO It tested at seventy-one percent click-through. People want the word “support.” They click it. Miko stands, steps closer to the whiteboard. She taps a line that reads “Community Treasury – 10%.” MIKO Who’s actually holding the keys on that ten percent? RICO Me. For now. Until we vote. JAX Vote on what? We’re the only three who even know the contract exists. The refrigerator compressor kicks on. Green light flickers across their faces. Rico hits save. The Notion page refreshes with a timestamp: 2:41 a.m. MIKO You’re writing a promise you can’t code. RICO That’s the point. They’ll buy the promise. Jax raises his can in a mock toast toward the monitors. JAX To more support. Miko doesn’t raise hers. She watches Rico’s screen as the cursor blinks again, waiting. I … (sign in to read + edit the full draft)
Claim this pitch with the X account that posted the tweet, edit anything, and lead the raise. bMovies just takes a 1% tokenising fee.
Claim as @decat2025