[Owen POV]
The movie continued with the snake teaching the boy how to hunt and find food.
"My uncle told me never to go far from the house," he said to the snake. The reptilian quickly became his friend.
"He's dead… It's either you go find some food… or I will eat you," the snake told him.
The boy flinched, but he still nodded despite the fear evident in his expression.
The snake taught the boy how to live, using threats of eating him as motivation for the kid.
He talked to the snake a lot, telling him about his life before his mom and dad died in a car crash.
Then, the kid wrote a letter again to his friend George, telling him about his new friend—the snake.
The audience's stomachs churned, their eyebrows furrowed as they felt something was wrong with the picture above, but they couldn't figure out what.
Was it the dependency on someone who consistently warned them it was going to hurt them? Or was it the loneliness the kid felt?
Hale, the social worker, finally arrived in the county where the boy lived. He went to the boy's school to ask around, but no one even remembered the boy studying there, nor did they know where he lived now.
Thirty-five minutes into the movie, the audience saw something disturbing.
A huge snake slithered behind the boy without him noticing, watching him as he slept.
And the part where he slept on a bed filled with snakes made some people curl in their seats as it struck their primal fears.
"This could've been a horror movie." Gael said, forgetting to chew the popcorn inside his mouth.
"I mean, Owen does it every day?" Sandra laughed slightly.
The boy and the snake discussed something while they were eating.
"Do heavens really exist?" The boy asked.
The snake hissed and slowly said, "Heaven does exist."
"Is my mom and dad in heaven?" The boy asked again.
The snake went silent for a bit, and didn't reply to his question. He asked again, "Will I ever see them again?"
"What do you want to do when you meet them again?" The snake asked.
The boy paused from eating and said, "I'd really want to eat what my dad cooks. And I'd like to hug my mom again."
Some of the audience members were sobbing. For the kids who went through human trafficking, their long buried memories were slowly brought up to the surface.
The story continued, and the boy went searching for the snake as when he woke up, the snake was gone.
He searched for the snake desperately, but he didn't find him. He flopped to the ground, and whispered, "Don't leave me too."
The boy cried for a while. Suddenly, a similar voice to him called, "I'm right here."
"Snake?" He turned and saw a mirror. The reflection was showing a snake instead of himself.
"OHHHH!" Elena accidentally let out a huge exclamation as she realized it. The old man sitting in front of us flinched from the shock and gave her a dirty look.
George didn't introduce the kid's name on purpose, nor did he give a name to the snake. The reasoning behind it was people didn't really care about the foster kids.
Learning their name and their life story would humanize them, which would be harder for them to pretend not to know about their plight.
The reflection of the snake morphed into his own reflection, but with some scales around his face.
The snake tried to convince him to leave and get some help. He didn't want to get back to the foster home and the system again, so he would rather risk starvation.
This was the aspect that was controversial to the Catholic Church, which was depicting the snake as the good guy in the movie.
The kid wrote a letter to George again, which was narrated in the movie.
Kid: "George. This may be my last letter. I think I'm sick. I kept seeing a snake.
"The weird thing was, the snake is trying to help me. But I'm done…"
The room is dim, lit only by the firelight. The boy sits on the floor, legs pulled to his chest.
He looks thin, exhausted , but calmer than before. The crowbar leans beside him, streaked with dried blood.
Outside, rain falls softly against the broken window.
The snake slithers near the fireplace, coiling around itself lazily.
"You're not hungry tonight?" The boy asked the snake.
"No." The snake replied, seemingly calmer now.
A pause. The boy stares at the snake and really looks at it for the first time. Its scales shimmer faintly, reflecting the firelight like pieces of glass.
"Why do you always help me… if you say you'll eat me?"
The snake doesn't answer. Its tongue flickers, then stills.
"If I keep eating, will you disappear?" He asked.
The snake didn't reply again.
"I don't want that to happen. Then, I will be lonely again." The kid muttered.
Some of the audience members were sobbing at the exchange. The scene cuts to Hale, finally getting the address of the cabin in the woods.
He called the cabin, unaware that he had startled the kid. His breath became heavier, his eyes unfocused. He clutched his chest, sweat on his forehead.
The snake suddenly grew larger and larger behind him.
Then, the boy ran.
The wind howls against the edge of the cliff. The sky was full of stars that night.
The boy stands barefoot at the edge, his clothes torn, his hair tangled with dust. He clutches the old crowbar in one hand, rusted, dented, shaped like a serpent's tongue.
A light breeze brushes his face. He closes his eyes.
"Stop." The reflection, with the scale on his face, stood behind the boy and called out to him.
The boy turned slowly towards him.
The snake looked at him with a sad expression. "It won't change anything. And if you do this, you will never be able to go to heaven."
The breeze blew by again.
The boy dropped the crowbar. It clinks against the rocks and rolls away.
"It doesn't change the fact that I'm already in hell." The boy said.
The snake disappeared.
The boy steps forward and raises his arms. His body begins to move, almost weightless, as if the air itself is guiding him.
He dances.
Every movement is deliberate, trembling but graceful. A pirouette, then another. The same routine his abuser broke his leg for, performed perfectly this time.
Hale finally arrived at the cabin. He immediately went to search for the boy. Some audience members were whimpering, begging for Hale to make it.
The camera circles the boy. The wind lifts his shirt, revealing his thin body. His feet slide dangerously close to the edge of the cliff.
At the height of the soundtrack– Me and the Devil, instrumental version, the boy looked into the moon and smiled.
The dance marked the final moment of his agency.
The music swells — strings, mournful but beautiful, like a requiem trying to soar.
The boy spins one last time. His arms open, his face toward the sky.
Then… a final pirouette.
He steps forward.
Hale ran toward the cliff, screaming mutedly. His mouth opened, but the sound drowned out by the rushing wind.
The camera doesn't show the fall. Only the horizon. glowing brighter, until everything turns white.
FADE OUT.
TITLE CARD: Serpent Son.
Then, the credit rolled.
The lights in the theater rose slowly. For a moment, no one moved. Only the sound of quiet breathing and people stifling a sob.
"Is that it?" Some of the more casual audience members murmured. "Did he live, or did he die?"
"Wait. What is the kid's name again?" Another one asked. "We never learn his name, right?"
"Did the director do that on purpose?"
I turned to Elena and the others, wanting to see their reaction, only to flinch when I saw every one of them were crying.
"Oh. You related strongly to it. I should've given you guys some warning." I said, comforting Elena by giving her a soft hug.
They knew what it's like to be helpless, so the movies really impacted them. All of them were gloomy as they left the theater.
The old man who kept shushing us before was talking with some college kids as I came out.
"Proffesor, what's the purpose of letting the name be a mystery– I don't get it. Is he trying to tell the story of his friend– or is it symbolism?" A young man asked, looking quite confused.
'Are they from the ArtCenter College of Design?' I thought secretly.
The professor stopped in front of the poster– the one with the boy's shadow forming a serpent on the ground.
He looked at the poster, unaware of the true actor of the movie standing behind him.
He studied it for a long moment before answering.
"It's not about the friend," he said finally. "It's about the forgotten."
The students tilted their heads, unsure.
"When George doesn't name the boy," the professor continued, "he's forcing you to care enough to ask who he was. That's the point.
"The moment you wonder what his name was, you've already acknowledged the system's failure. Because the real world doesn't remember those kids either."
He looked at them with tired eyes, as though he'd taught this lesson too many times.
"In the film, the boy's disappearance isn't the tragedy. The tragedy is that no one knew he existed long before he vanished."
One of the students, a girl with red eyes from crying, spoke up softly, "So when we're asking if he lived or died…"
"…we've already missed the question we should've asked," the professor finished.
"Who was he? Why was he alone in the first place? Why did no one notice him disappearing?" He asked.
The group fell silent. The lobby around them buzzed with soft chatter and the smell of popcorn oil.
A boy scribbled something quickly into his notebook, while another nodded in thought.
"Alright," the professor sighed, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with his sleeve.
"For your final paper, I want ten thousand words. Deconstruct Serpent Son through either a theological, psychological, or sociological lens. Reference the use of reflection, the serpent metaphor, and narrative silence."
Groans erupted amongst the students, washing away their depressed feelings.
I snorted slightly as I saw it.
…
I finally read the reviews on the film.
Some papers called it a miracle. Others called it blasphemy.
"Serpent Son: A Film That Dances Between Heaven and Hell," wrote The New York Times.
The critic praised its "religious inversion so bold it feels sacrilegious until you realize it's about forgiveness, not rebellion."
Variety described it as "Owen Chase's most spiritual work, even though God never appears on screen, his entire portrayal made it seem like God was there."
They added: 'In a world so obsessed with salvation, Serpent Son asks a simpler question — what if survival itself was divine?'
But The Catholic Herald didn't take it well.
Their headline read: "A Serpent as Savior? Hollywood Has Lost Its Soul."
Church spokespeople condemned the film for "reversing biblical truth" and "depicting the serpent as the bringer of compassion."
Some even accused George's studio of "corrupting Christian imagery for shock value."
However, the protest on the movie became weaker and weaker as days went by. As it was dissected all over the world.
Meanwhile, in France, it was a phenomenon.
Le Monde called it "un poème du désespoir — et du pardon" (a poem of despair — and of forgiveness).
Cannes critics compared it to Tarkovsky and early Bergman.
Across Europe, cinemas ran it past midnight. People came out of the theaters pale, quiet, like they'd seen something sacred they couldn't describe.
In Italy, a priest in Milan screened it privately for theology students — then told reporters, "The serpent is not Satan here. It is survival. Perhaps the same instinct God gave to Adam when He sent him out of Eden."
That quote went viral overnight. The protestors in the US had to take a step back because of the priest's words.
Meanwhile, in the U.S., protests started outside a few theaters. Evangelical groups held banners reading "THE DEVIL DOESN'T TEACH YOU TO LIVE."
Predictably, they were the loudest.
However, the backlash only made people more curious.
It drove more and more people to go and see it. College professors dissected it in ethics classes. Psychologists wrote essays about trauma and internalized fear.
George finally got what he wanted. To get people talking about the topic in the movie.
…
New Year's Eve.
A year had passed very quickly. I had one year left before the appointed time with the Bald Lawyer God.
There's a party at George's new place to count down for New Year's Eve. Several stars attended the party—directors, writers, actors, and production crew.
The kind of crowd that laughed a little too loudly because they'd made it. They had a very great year after all.
I drove my Toyota Supra, a car I just bought– or rather, was forced onto me by Elena since she said it would help with my image.
The headlights cut through the winding road that led up the hills of Los Feliz.
Sarah Michelle Gellar sat in the passenger seat beside me, her hair pinned up. She wore a classy, polkadot, short skirt, one piece dress and high heels.
I wore a simple oversized shirt– future design and some straight cut slacks and sneakers.
"I'm really nervous." She muttered with a smile. "George Burnett is, like, the hottest thing in Hollywood right now."
She touched my bicep lightly and said, "Other than you of course."
I pursed my lips and said, "Don't pretend you're not hot stuff too."
She giggled and said, "Hey, you just said I'm hot."
I raised an eyebrow as she enjoyed teasing me.
The car stopped at the sloped road as George's new house was located on top of a hill. George had reserved a parking spot for me in front of the house, so I didn't have to park far like everyone else.
I exited the car and then went to open the door for Sarah. There was some murmuring from the party crowd as they saw the scene.
Sarah couldn't hide the grin on her face as I escorted her inside the party.
"Owen!" George greeted me happily. He wore a Tommy Bahama shirt and short pants, only wearing sandals inside his house.
I looked at him with disbelief. He noticed my gaze and laughed nervously, "I'm trying to show I'm being casual. This is weirding me out too."
"Hello Sarah. Are you really Owen's girlfriend like the media gossip said?" George asked her with a teasing smile.
Sarah carried herself confidently and said, "No. We're just close friends." Although there was a subtle pink blush on her cheek.
George grinned and turned to me, "I kinda expected that answer. It would be weirder if you can actually date anyone."
"That's true." I agreed with him.
Sarah was confused, "W-Why can't he date anyone? Is- Is it cause of his childhood trauma–"
George was taken aback and interjected, "Oh. No. It's more like he has a doomed filming schedule next year."
"Doomed?" Sarah was intrigued.
Jessica, wearing a long dress that showed her thickness, approached us and interjected into the conversation, saying "He got casted in O-class, then the Next Gen Musica, all the trilogy. He wouldn't have any free time until… December next year, right Owen?"
She winked at me. I rolled my eyes at her.
"An entire year of filming?" Sarah was shocked.
I turned to Sarah and said, "Why are you so surprised? You know Buffy will take at least 9 months out of your life to shoot, right?"
"Oh." Sarah was deflated. "So we might not be able to hang out next year?" She asked.
"We can." I replied. Jessica raised an eyebrow and said teasingly, "Oh. Owen is making a future plan with someone? That's rare. He must've really liked you."
I rolled my eyes while Sarah was taken aback, the blush on her face becoming clearer.
"Oh Buffy! I heard a rumor. Jack Kennedy bought the rights to Buffy from 20th Century Fox and the Kuzuis." George's face turned serious.
"For how much?" Sarah was alarmed. "Why-Why did he do that? He's not going to shut it down, would he?" she added.
"Don't worry about Jack. He's actually a nice person, and my nephew." Jessica comforted her.
Sarah widened her eyes slightly and said with disbelief, "He's your nephew?!"
"Yeah." Jessica replied casually. She turned to me and asked, "Why do you think he bought Buffy, Owen?"
Sarah turned to me too. I pretended to think about it and said, "He has an eye for people, so I guess he saw Buffy has a potential to be big."
George thought about it and said, "I think he spent around 40 million to get all the rights from 20th Century Fox and the Kuzuis. I guess he must've had a lot of confidence in the show."
"Will he shake things up and start pre-production again?" Sarah asked. She already signed the contract for Buffy so she was tied to the project.
After Hold On Tight became a huge success, CAA tried to sign her, but she had moved on to United Talent Agency instead.
But they couldn't do anything since she had signed on for Buffy.
Until they were sure the production wasn't going to happen, only then can they sign her up for other projects.
"No. He's keeping Josh Wheadon as the showrunner. And there's rumors he's going to increase the budget per episode to ensure the quality." George said.
Jessica was confused, "Wait. He's financing the show himself? He's not pitching it to the networks first?"
Sarah interjected, "The show already had its pilot. WB are keeping it as a mid-season replacement, but they didn't call us up in November, so that's not happening now."
George thought about it and then said, "I don't know if this is really true, since this is only a rumor I heard… But I think Jack is buying his own cable channel."
"What!?" Jessica and Sarah were shocked.
I already knew who the source of the rumor was. It was none other than Claire since George has a great relationship with her after he became the acting head of Lucky Clover studio.
"Is he putting Buffy on cable?" Sarah furrowed her eyebrows with worry.
"He's not." I said bluntly.
Right now, cable networks were still small potatoes compared to public tv.
I bought two cable networks for 50 million and were combining them into one cable network.
It has around 200-300k viewers for their top shows, which made them a failing cable network.
This was a future investment for the company, and we're also going to be putting the film libraries we had to good use.
I expected by the year 2000, that's when the cable company would really hit its stride.
The New Years Eve party continued. And at midnight, we countdown for the New Year together.
"5. 4. 3. 2. 1– Happy New Year!" Everyone said before popping confettis and kissing.
Sarah kissed me when the New Year arrived. Then, she pulled her face back and said, "H-Happy New Year Owen."
"Happy New Year Sarah."
Finally, it was 1997.