Almost Famous Page #10

He tosses cubes in his glass, one by one. After the first cube:

RUSSELL (cont'd)

The way you turn a hotel room into a

home.

(cube)

The way you pick up strays wherever

you go. Like Pied Piper.

(cube)

The way you know the words to every

song. Every song. Especially the bad

ones. Mostly the bad ones.

(cube)

That green coat in the middle of summer.

(cube)

The real name you won't reveal.

(cube)

And. I'd keep going, but my glass if

full.

PENNY:

(quietly)

Damn.

He kisses her powerfully, hands at his sides. She fights to

keep her hands off him. Bonham's motorcycle rips by, just

outside the door.

RUSSELL:

Come to Arizona.

PENNY:

Never.

RUSSELL:

We leave Thursday morning. 9 AM. And

pack light this time. Jesus.

They kiss. The motorcycle speeds by again, just outside.

42 INT. HALLWAY -- NIGHT42

The hallways are crowded, as William looks at the closed door

of the ice room. He leans against the wall, alone now. Trying

to look like he belongs. Behind him, most of the band has

disappeared into other rooms, leaving only hangers-on in their

places.

43 INT. ROLLING STONE MAGAZINE -- DAY43

Music. We pan across cubicles bustling with laid-back fervor.

These are the San Francisco-based main offices of Rolling Stone

Magazine. We have arrived for the waning days that this

magazine could still be called, with a straight-face, an

"underground" publication. Their mounting success crowds the

edges of every frame. Camera catches the Annie Leibowitz

portraits that hang on the walls -- Lennon, Jagger, Rod Stewart,

James Taylor.

We find editor BEN FONG-TORRES, 29, in his cramped cubicle.

Sitting nearby is curly-haired and mustachioed Star Staff

writer, DAVID FELTON, 32, who smokes his cigarettes with a long

holder. Felton reads one of William's articles, chuckling.

BEN FONG-TORRES

William Miller?

INTERCUT:

INT. WILLIAM'S BEDROOM -- DAY

William is on the phone in his own small room.

WILLIAM:

This is he.

BEN:

Crazy. William, this is Ben Fong-

Torres. I'm the music editor at Rolling

Stone Magazine. We've got a copy of

your stories from the San Diego Door.

This is the same William Miller?

William instantly, nervously alters his voice to sound older.

WILLIAM:

Yes it is.

BEN:

(rifling through tearsheets)

Voice of God, howling dogs, the spirit

of rock And roll... this is good solid

stuff.

WILLIAM:

(immediately, suddenly

deeper)

Thanks... thanks.

BEN:

You should be writing for us. Any

ideas?

WILLIAM:

(voice now to deep)

How about Stillwater?

BEN:

Crazy. New album... their third...

starting to do something.

Ben shuffles through papers, looking for a tour itinerary on

his promotional-material laden-desk, automatically plotting

the piece aloud.

BEN (cont'd)

(pleasant, terse)

Stillwater. Hard-working band makes

good. Get 'em to respond to the critics

who dismissed the first two albums as

workmanlike. Guitarist is the clear star

of the band. Crazy. Let's do three-

thousand words. You'll catch up to them

on the road. We'll set up billing --

don't let the band pay for anything.

WILLIAM:

(affecting casualness)

Sounds good.

BEN:

We can only pay -- lemme see, three-

thousand words -- seven hundred dollars.

The kid's eyes widen.

BEN (cont'd)

Alright, a grand. What's your

background? You a journalism major?

WILLIAM:

(deeply)

Yes.

BEN:

What college --

INT. ELAINE'S HOUSE -- CONTINUOUS

Elaine now gets on the extension.

ELAINE:

Honey, I need you to do that thing

that fixes the garbage disposal --

She hangs up.

INT. WILLIAM'S BEDROOM -- CONTINUOUS

The kid is paralyzed.

BEN:

Well, I know how my lady gets when I

don't Snap to it -

WILLIAM:

Crazy.

BEN:

Crazy! I'll let you go. Call me at

the San Francisco office tomorrow.

44 INT. LESTER BANGS HOME -- LATE NIGHT44

The great Lester Bangs stands in the promotional album-clogged

bedroom of his Birmingham, Michigan, home/office at Creem

Magazine. There is nothing in frame that does not deal with

music. In the background, a scratchy and chaotic Coltrane

record.

LESTER BANGS:

Beware Rolling Stone Magazine. They

will change your story, they'll re-

write it and turn it into swill.

Beware!!

WILLIAM:

But besides that, what would be wrong

with it?

LESTER BANGS:

(laughs, entertained)

You have starry eyes, my friend.

(beat)

Look. Do the story. It's a good break

for ya. But remember this --

The kid listens intently, and makes notes.

LESTER BANGS (cont'd)

... don't do it to make friends with

people who are trying to use you to

further the big business desire to

glorify worthless rock stars like

Stillwater. And don't let those swill

merchants re-write you.

WILLIAM:

(still copying)

... swill merchants...

LESTER BANGS:

Now. What are you listening to?

45 EXT. TEACHER'S LOUNGE -- DAY45

William knocks on the teacher's lounge door. A Teacher answers,

protective of their sanctuary.

WILLIAM:

(urgently)

I need to talk to Mrs. Deegan, from

Journalism.

Mrs. Deegan appears in the doorway.

46 EXT. WILLIAM'S HOME -- LATE AFTERNOON46

The sun is still shining. It's late afternoon, as Elaine Miller

exits her car and arrives home. She sees a few extra cars in

the driveway, is immediately suspicious.

47 INT. LIVING ROOM -- LATE AFTERNOON47

Elaine arrives to find William, Mrs. Deegan and Darryl awaiting

her in the living room. It's a 1973-style intervention. They

wear sunny, compassionate smiles.

ELAINE:

Whatever it is, the answer is no.

MRS. DEEGAN

Elaine, we need to talk to you.

Nothing is wrong. I am a teacher.

You're a teacher. We speak the same

language.

Mom sits down. She is fully engaged and worried, her natural

state.

MRS. DEEGAN (cont'd)

Now I'm not a jump-up-and-down person,

but something wondrous has happened to

William. And you have every reason to

be happy...

(knows her)

... and calm.

Carefully gauging Elaine's face, the teacher continues.

MRS. DEEGAN (cont'd)

William has been gifted with a shining

opportunity in the world of journalism.

Through a love of music, and at an

oddly-young age, he has received a major

assignment from a national publication

called Rolling Stone Magazine.

Mrs. Deegan produces a copy, and places it on Elaine's lap.

It sits there like the plague.

MRS. DEEGAN (cont'd)

Now you are rather famously not a fan

of rock music, but such are the ironies

of life, that happens to be the very

topic of William's assignment -

(cheerfully)

- rock music. A band.

ELAINE:

(warily, to Darryl)

Honey, what are you doing here?

DARRYL:

Moral support.

Mom looks evenly at her son, seated opposite her in this small

living room.

ELAINE:

What's involved?

MRS. DEEGAN

Well. It's a great opportunity. He'll

be well-paid, and published nationally --

(quickly)

-- and he'll go on tour with a rock

band for four days. No small planes...

he travels on a bus.

ELAINE:

Is it time for me to say something?

MRS. DEEGAN

Sure.

ELAINE:

No.

MRS. DEEGAN

And in anticipation of that response -

ELAINE:

No.

MRS. DEEGAN

-- William has prepared --

ELAINE:

(rueful)

"Lo, that which I have feared has come

upon me."

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