Martin Takes a Shit
Genre: Dark Comedy / Drama
Format: Short Film or Feature (A24-style tone)
LOGLINE
Confined to a hospital bed and stripped of his independence, an elderly man’s only goal is to take one final dignified shit—by himself. In the process, Martin Takes a Shit lays bare the quiet humiliations of aging, the cracks in the American healthcare system, and the strange beauty of refusing to go quietly.
PITCH
Martin Takes a Shit is a darkly funny, painfully honest, and deeply human story about an 82-year-old man, Martin, stuck in a hospital room after a fall. His body may be failing, but his spirit isn’t. He’s not asking for much—just to shit on his own, without help, without a bedpan, without two overworked CNAs hovering over him like he’s already dead.
This isn’t just about bathroom dignity—it’s about control, about what happens when society and the system quietly decide you’re no longer worth the time or effort. With a dry wit and unflinching gaze, the film explores the absurd bureaucracy of hospital care, the slow erosion of identity that comes with aging, and how moments that seem small to everyone else—like getting out of bed and walking to a toilet—can feel like acts of rebellion.
As Martin wages his quiet war for autonomy, he’s joined by a new roommate: Frank, an older man on a ventilator who cannot speak but remains fully conscious. At first, Martin resents him—just another reminder of where he could be headed. But over time, Frank becomes a mirror, a silent audience, and eventually, Martin’s unlikely confidant. Their one-sided conversations evolve into a deep, wordless bond, reminding Martin that connection, like dignity, can survive even in silence.
Through Martin’s stubbornness, humor, and the quiet companionship of a man who can’t reply, we glimpse a life fully lived, and a system slowly failing the people it’s meant to protect. The story doesn’t flinch from the awkward, the gross, or the heartbreaking—but it also finds warmth, humanity, and even grace in the most unlikely place: a hospital bathroom.
TONE / STYLE
Think The Whale meets The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. Intimate, observational cinematography. A lived-in performance at the center. It’s both uncomfortably real and quietly poetic.
WHY NOW
America is aging. Millions are quietly living out their final chapters in institutions that weren’t built for dignity. Martin Takes a Shit is a provocation—a reminder that every person, no matter how broken, deserves a moment of agency, and maybe even a laugh on the way there.
FIRST PAGE
FADE IN:
INT. BATHROOM – NIGHT
Dark. Quiet. A single overhead light flickers.
Water streams from a faucet into the bathtub.
The tub slowly overflows. A thin stream trickles over the edge.
A puddle spreads across the tile. It finds the grout lines and follows them like a lazy river.
MARTIN (82) lies motionless on the cold floor. Soaked. Wearing only an undershirt and tube socks.
His face is pale, pressed awkwardly against the tile. He breathes—barely.
WATER spills across the floor, inching slowly toward his face.
CLOSE ON – MARTIN’S LIPS
A thin stream of water reaches them. He doesn’t flinch.
MARTIN (V.O.)
Is this it?
The water creeps closer.
MARTIN (V.O.) (CONT’D)
Is this how I die? Am I gonna fucking drown
on my bathroom floor? I made it out of the
jungles of Vietnam—just to die next to a plunger?
POV – PLUNGER
Angle from the floor. The plunger looms in Martin’s blurred vision.
MARTIN (V.O.) (CONT’D)
God... this can’t be the last thing I look at.
OVERHEAD SHOT
Martin lies limp. Water pools around his body like a spreading ink blot.
CLOSE ON – MARTIN
He tries to move. A twitch. A grunt. His muscles won’t obey.
EXT. FRONT DOOR – NEXT MORNING
Water seeps out beneath the door, onto the porch, down the driveway.
A MAILMAN (40s) mid-delivery, notices the flow. He approaches, concerned.
He knocks.
MAILMAN
Hello? Anyone home?
SMASH CUT TO:
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM – DAY
A sterile room. Fluorescent buzz. Beige walls. Monitors beep steadily.
Martin lies in a hospital bed. Stiff. Silent. Sour-faced.
A BEDPAN is placed unceremoniously on the tray beside him.
MARTIN (V.O.)
Fantastic.
TITLE CARD:
MARTIN TAKES A SHIT