Matthew Wakefield

Matthew’s writing career began at Hallmark Cards, where he devised greeting card verses and jokes. After studying film production at The University of Wales, and making several short films, he gained his first TV commission in 2002.  Since 2007 he has been a regular contributor to BBC One’s Doctors. He has written 47 episodes to date, including serial-only and standalone dramas. He has an MA in Screenwriting from The London College of Communication, and has taught scriptwriting at Bucks New University.


South East



Nick Turner Management Ltd
32 Tavistock Street
London
WC2E 7PB

Tel: 020 7450 3355

47 episodes of the BBC One drama series 'Doctors'.

'Stiletto' - an award-winning short film funded by Waltham Forest Arts Council's Alfred Hitchcock Production scheme.

 

Childrens writing, Comedy, Film, Television

24

Opening scene from Doctors: The Bingo Conspiracy (TX date: 09/09/2015)

INT. LONGHAVEN CARE HOME. COMMUNAL LOUNGE. DAY. 18:30

HERB, MURIEL, DILYS

NS OAPS

['Beyond the Sea', sung by Bobby Darin, over.  Numbered balls roll and fall inside a metallic spinner.  MURIEL HICKS - 47, short, jolly and genial - ceremoniously opens the spinner’s hatch, retrieves a numbered ball, and announces it to her silver-haired audience]

MURIEL: Two fat ladies: 88!

[The residents of Longhaven Care Home eagerly refer to their Bingo cards.  Among them is DILYS CUTHBERT - 76, impish beneath her mousy facade.  Muriel plucks another ball from the spinner]

MURIEL: Knock at the door: 4.

[Dilys checks her bingo card and heaves a sigh (no joy).  In the background, a NS resident abruptly freezes and slumps to the side of his chair, with an instant jolt of death!  Muriel and the OAPs are oblivious to the man’s hasty demise (or unfazed by it).  The game carries on]

MURIEL: Unlucky for some: 13.

[Dilys's face lights up.  She circles the number ‘13’ on her card.  Suddenly, her eyes glaze over and her body stiffens.  She hunches over, lifelessly.  Again, this morbid phenomenon goes unremarked.  Only one of the residents appears to be aware that the room’s occupants are dropping like flies: HERB ASHWELL - 75, gaunt and intense, with several days of stubble and an unruly mane of grey hair - stands on the periphery, unnoticed or ignored]

MURIEL (OOV): The Brighton Line: 59.

[Herb looks on, with incredulous horror, as another hapless resident circles the number from their card and promptly expires]

HERB: Can’t you see what’s happening?

[Herb walks over to a smartly-attired gent, blissfully engrossed in the game]

HERB: Are you blind, man?  Can't you see what’s going on?

MURIEL: Staying alive: 85.

[In a far corner of the room, another resident slumps to one side of their chair with a fleeting cry of pain]

HERB: (POINTING) Look, there goes another one!

[The old gent doesn’t bat an eyelid.  Muriel plucks a ball from the spinner.  She fixes Herb’s fearful gaze.  Her once jovial demeanour now seems eerie, malevolent]

MURIEL: (SLOWLY, GRAVELY) Bang … on … the drum.

HERB: Don’t look at me.  I’m not playing!  I never play, remember?

[The music, louder than before, is oppressive, distorted.  Muriel glances down at a bingo card that’s mysteriously attached to the palm of Herb’s right hand.  He notices this with a start, then frantically tries to shake it off … to no avail.  He scrutinises the bingo card.  All of the numbers are circled, but for one]

MURIEL: 71.

[Herb gasps, freezes.  His number is up]