Jonny King
I'm a musician by day, writer by night, originally from High Wycombe - which genuinely has a chair museum - but now living a seagull poop-spattered existence in Plymouth, Devon. I began pursuing screen/comedy writing in 2015, starting off writing jokes and sketches for radio, before moving on to writing for the screen.
My comedy feature LAND'S END was a 2019 Shore Scripts Feature Contest winner, a 2020 We Screenplay Feature Contest finalist, a 2020 Screen Craft Screenwriting Fellowship semi-finalist and a 2020 Blue Cat Screenplay Competition quarter-finalist. LAND'S END is currently optioned and in development with Emmy award-winning director Ben Tricklebank and producer Theresa Larché. LAND'S END has featured on Coverfly's Red List and is currently ranked in the overall top 1% of all projects.
My sitcom pilot GIFTED won both Best TV Series and Best Overall Screenplay at the 2021 Page Turner Awards and is currently being developed by literary manager Sean Dubravac at Entertainment Lab. GIFTED was also a top-ten finalist in both the 2021 Final Draft Big Break Screenwriting Contest and the 2021 Emerging Screenwriters Genre Screenplay Competition, as well as reaching the semi-finals of both the 2022 ISA Table Read My Screenplay Genre Screenplay Competition and the 2021 Script Lab Screenplay Contest. GIFTED was also short-listed for the 2021 Screen and Story Film Festival Screenplay Competition and long-listed for the 2021 Short Com TV Sitcom Writing Competition. GIFTED has featured on Coverfly's Red List and is ranked in the top 1% of all projects.
My sitcom pilot OLIGARCHS won the Golden Nib award for Best Sitcom Pilot Screenplay in the 2021 Let's Make It Screenwriting Contest, coming in third place overall. OLIGARCHS was also a quarter-finalist in the 2020 Script Lab Screenplay Contest and the 2020 We Screenplay TV Contest and is currently listed in the top 10% of projects on Coverfly.
My comedy short BOLD was a Best Comedy Screenplay winner in the 2021 Newman Consults Four Minute Screenplay Competition and another short, SOLSTICE, was a quarter-finalist in the 2021 Filmmatic Comedy Screenplay Awards and shortlisted for Best Script in the 2020 Film The House Competition.
My broadcast credits include Newsjack, The Skewer, Breaking The News and The Treason Show. My ambition is to become a full-time professional screenwriter within the next five years and I'm currently working on building up my portfolio with a range of projects, including shorts, features and sitcom pilots. I'm currently unrepresented, so any agents out there - hit me up on Whatsapp!
I also do some sports writing, having written for a number of magazines and websites, including When Saturday Comes. I'm editor of The Wanderer fanzine and have assisted the media department of Wycombe Wanderers Football Club, including writing for the matchday programme and providing live matchday commentary and social media reporting - which I was rubbish at.
FADE IN: EXT. WEST LONDON STREET - DAY
A residential street in Kensington, seen through a shoulder mounted camera, the picture bobbing slightly as the cameraman walks. The street is lined with opulent townhouses.
NARRATOR (V.O.) With Anglo-Russian relations at their worst since the Cold War, wealthy Russians living in Britain have come under increasing scrutiny, with new laws introduced to investigate the source and legitimacy of their wealth.
The camera turns slightly and half-follows an expensive-looking car as it rolls lazily past.
EXT. LONDON TOWNHOUSE - DAY
The large Kensington house looks no different to the others on the street, with its perfectly white walls and large, glossy black door, firmly shut on the outside world.
NARRATOR (V.O.) From early 1990, 36 Loakes Crescent in Kensington was the home of the Kerzhakov family, headed by multimillionaire patriarch Nikolai.
EXT. LONDON TOWNHOUSE - DAY
Shaky handheld footage shows an army of police and suited officials carrying cardboard boxes out of the same house. NIKOLAI KERZHAKOV, mid-fifties, a wiry man with a severe, square haircut and thick black moustache, dressed in crisply ironed smart casual, marches indignantly out behind them. He is followed by VASILY, a tall, thin, grey-haired and grey-skinned man in his late-sixties, wearing a cheap, grey suit.
NARRATOR (V.O.) But last year their family home and the vast majority of their fortune were seized by the authorities, under an Unexplained Wealth Order.
NIKOLAI This is an insult to my family! And all of Russia! I’ll have you shot!
Vasily glances at the camera and leans in to whisper to Nikolai. Nikolai gives the camera a sideways glance.
NIKOLAI ...I’ll have you complained about!
GEORGY, mid-forties, a huge, scary-looking man with a large scar down his face and wearing a tight-fitting bomber jacket, bundles out the door, an official under each arm in a headlock. A policeman rushes over to try and free them.
EXT. KERZHAKOV FAMILY HOME - DAY
A nice but modest semi-detached house on a quiet street. A Russian flag hangs limply from a flagpole, looking completely out of place, as does the large Bentley parked on the drive.
NARRATOR (V.O.) The family now live in this small, semi-detached in High Wycombe, living on what remains of their wealth, as Nikolai and his lawyers try to overturn the seizure.
EXT. PARK - DAY
SVETLANA KERZHAKOV, late-thirties, a thin, tanned woman, well-dressed, with bouffant blonde hair, walks 6 yapping Papillon spaniels, all wearing various garish dog outfits. She beams madly at the camera as she talks to the dogs in Russian. Nikolai walks alongside her, looking bored. Their daughter, SASHA KERZHAKOV, early-twenties and fashionably dressed, walks slightly behind, completely engrossed in her phone.
NARRATOR (V.O.) We will spend the next six months with Nikolai, his wife Svetlana and their daughter Sasha, to discover more about the wealthy Russians living in the UK.
INT. NIKOLAI’S STUDY - DAY
Through the ajar door, Nikolai can be seen talking to Vasily. They speak in Russian, voices hushed. Vasily spots the camera and without breaking the conversation moves to the door.
NARRATOR (V.O.) This is the secret life of Britain’s oligarchs. Vasily pushes the door firmly shut on the camera.
TITLE: OLIGARCHS
EXT. KERZHAKOV FAMILY HOME - DAY
The Russian flag flaps slightly in the wind as a scooter buzzes noisily past the house.
NARRATOR (V.O.) It’s nine o’clock on Monday morning, the start of a new day and a new week for the Kerzhakov family.
A man walks past the front of the house, spots the camera and freezes, before trying to subtly edge back the way he came.
INT. KITCHEN - DAY
Svetlana hums happily, slightly off-key, as she busies herself at the stove, a flowery apron over her smart dress. Nikolai watches her warily from the kitchen table. Georgy is sat in the corner, carefully sharpening a large hunting knife.
SVETLANA This is a traditional Russian dish I make for you, Shchi cabbage soup.
Nikolai looks at the camera and back at Svetlana.
NIKOLAI You have remembered to cook cabbage?
There is a knock on the door and ANDREA, late-twenties, wearing a wireless telephone headset, pokes her head round.
ANDREA Yuri’s here Mister Kerzhakov.
Svetlana claps her hands, delighted. Nikolai swears in Russian.
NIKOLAI What does he want?
Andrea shrugs. Nikolai sighs and waves a resigned hand.
NIKOLAI Urgh, fine. Send him in.
NARRATOR (O.S.) Who’s Yuri?
Svetlana beams happily at the camera.
SVETLANA He is a very, very dear friend of ours. Very rich... Very handsome!
Nikolai glares at the camera.
NIKOLAI He is Ukrainian.
The door is flung open and YURI swaggers confidently in. Good-looking, mid-thirties but could easily pass for late-twenties, dressed in a smart, expensive suit, a chunky Rolex on show. He smiles down at Nikolai and holds his arms out.
YURI Hello Nikki!
Nikolai doesn’t get up, doesn’t even move, just glares at him. Yuri doesn’t seem to care and turns to Svetlana, who is practically convulsing with excitement and delight.
YURI Is that you Sasha? You’ve got younger!
Svetlana bursts into uncontrollable giggles. Nikolai glowers.
NIKOLAI Why are you here?
YURI I just happened to be in the area. My firm sometimes dump our hazardous waste out here.
SVETLANA Would you like some cabbage soup?
Yuri looks momentarily horrified, but quickly disguises it.
YURI I’m afraid I can’t stop, otherwise I would happily guzzle every last drop and leave none for anybody else!
Svetlana melts.
YURI No, I was just stopping by to say I am having a little soiree at my house this weekend. Nothing fancy, just a couple of hundred close friends.
Nikolai shrugs dismissively. ‘And?’
YURI Anyway, a few people can’t come, so I thought you might like to be invited.
Svetlana shrieks and bounces up and down. Nikolai shakes his head vigorously.
NIKOLAI I cannot go. I have... appointments. What a shame this is to me.
SVETLANA Darling, just have Andrea cancel them!
Nikolai mutters something under his breath.
YURI Great, I’ll see you Saturday.
He turns to go, glancing down at Svetlana’s soup in a mixture of fascination and disgust.
YURI And Svetlana, if you want to bring some of your wonderful cooking to the party... put it in a distinctive dish, so we’ll know it’s yours.
Svetlana nods excitedly. Yuri throws Nikolai one last triumphant smile and leaves. Nikolai carries on muttering to himself and gives the table a thump for good measure.
SVETLANA Darling, since the filthy capitalist pig-dogs stole all our money, Yuri is the only person who still invites us to things.
NIKOLAI Yes, so he can laugh at me.
Svetlana comes to the table with two small bowls of something that could possibly be soup... maybe...
SVETLANA There you go darlings! Bon appetite!
She turns to Georgy.
SVETLANA Georgy darling, would you like-
GEORGY No.
Svetlana turns back to the stove and Nikolai immediately tips his bowl into a plant pot on the kitchen table. Svetlana turns back and Nikolai drops his spoon into the empty bowl.
NIKOLAI Hmm! Delicious!
SVETLANA Darling! You must be hungry!
Nikolai mutters something incoherent and rubs his belly.
SVETLANA Do not worry, I have more for you!
She waves away Nikolai’s panicked protests and takes his bowl, before looking over at the full bowl in front of the camera.
SVETLANA Do not be shy, there is plenty more!
The camera looks into the bowl, as the spoon sloshes gingerly around in the murky gloop, before looking back at Nikolai, who has a resigned look on his face, like a man who’s appeal to be spared execution has just been rejected.
INT. NIKOLAI’S STUDY - DAY
Nikolai, looking fed up, sits behind a large, expensive-looking mahogany desk, rescued from his previous life, out of place and far too big for the modest room. It’s completely clear, save for a phone and a laptop. The desk of a man with no work to do.
NARRATOR (O.S.) So, tell us about Yuri.
Scowling, Nikolai growls something in Russian under his breath.
NIKOLAI He is magnet magnate.
NARRATOR (O.S.) I’m sorry?
Nikolai tuts at this extension to the conversation about Yuri.
NIKOLAI He made fortune from selling magnets. Now he is youngest billionaire in Europe, as he mentions at every opportunity. Vasily tells me he’s just bought Queens Park Rangers football team. This is only reason he invite us to stupid party. To show off.
He slumps back into his huge office chair and folds his arms.
NIKOLAI I’ll show him. When I get money back, I’ll buy much better football team...
A thought hits him and he presses a button on the desk phone, activating the intercom.
NIKOLAI (Into intercom) Vasily.
He hangs up and waits, impatiently drumming his fingers on the desk. After a second, Vasily enters the study. He clocks the camera and does his best to avoid being filmed.
SUPERIMPOSE: VASILY, Financial advisor
NIKOLAI Vasily, see if any London football clubs are for sale...
He glances at the camera and tries to lower his voice.
NIKOLAI They must be... you know... cheap.
Vasily nods, once.
VASILY Da.
He turns and leaves, still trying his best to avoid being caught on camera. Nikolai leans back in his chair, arms again folded, but now with a look of triumph on his face.
NIKOLAI I will buy own London team and announce it at Yuri’s stupid party.
INT. KITCHEN - DAY
The kitchen is an explosion of pots, pans and utensils. Various cookbooks lie open, pages smeared with nondescript stains. The plant on the kitchen table is dead. Georgy sits in the corner, sharpening a hatchet. He scowls at the camera when he sees it on him and waves it away. In the midst of the chaos is Svetlana, cheerfully singing to herself as she creates a huge mess with no visible end product. She beams at the camera as she starts grating a tomato.
SVETLANA I know Nikki is not keen on Yuri, but he really is lovely and it is so nice to still be remembered by old friends.
She stops to wipe the mashed tomato from her hands and stares thoughtfully off to one side.
SVETLANA The last year has been... difficult...
She immediately brightens again.
SVETLANA So! I am going to impress our friends and remind them of the old days with some of my famous invented dishes!
Georgy starts sharpening the hatchet with greater intensity.
SVETLANA I was always talk of town for my culinary abilities!
EXT. GARAGE - DAY
Georgy sits on the bonnet of the Bentley, arms folded, his knife just poking out of his bomber jacket.
SUPERIMPOSE: GEORGY, Chauffeur
GEORGY Woman is menace. Of course everyone talk about her cooking. She once made cheese toastie for Roman Abramovich that caused epileptic fit.
INT. KITCHEN - DAY
Georgy is watching Svetlana stuff an aubergine into a raw chicken when Sasha flounces into the kitchen.
SASHA Georgy, you have to take me to London.
Svetlana pulls an apologetic face and whimpers sympathetically.
SVETLANA I’m so sorry darling, but I need Georgy to drive Andrea into town to get me more edible glitter. He’ll have to drop you at the train station.
Sasha looks genuinely horrified at the very idea.
SASHA The train? Seriously?
She thrusts the sleeve of her jacket up her forearm.
SASHA Why don’t you just inject me with gangrene now and save time.
SVETLANA Darling, you’ll be fine on the train.
Sasha whines and bounces on her feet slightly.
SASHA Aww, but I’m meeting Apphy!
NARRATOR (O.S.) Who’s Apphy?
Sasha’s eyes narrow and she half-turns to glare at the camera.
SASHA Aphrodite Simmons. She’s my best friend and she doesn’t know about... (She gestures vaguely at her surroundings) She still thinks we’re rich, so you’ll have to edit this bit out.
Svetlana sighs as she thumps a huge lobster onto the kitchen table and starts brushing its shell with whisked egg.
SVETLANA Darling, you should just tell her! She is your best friend, she won’t care that we now live in abject poverty.
Sasha rolls her eyes.
SASHA Oh my god! Of course I’m not going to tell my best friend that we live like homeless people.
Svetlana shrugs.
SVETLANA OK darling, but I think you underestimate your friend. She won’t mind any more than she minded when you had that allergic reaction to collagen and swelled up like the Michelin Man-
Sasha spins round to the camera before Svetlana can finish.
SASHA (Yelling) Edit all of this out!
