Almost Famous Page #6

DICK:

Let us in, we're Stillwater! We're on

the show!!

William is surrounded by them now. They stand together under the

single lightbulb, familiar faces, a live-action album cover. JEFF

BEBE the singer, his shiny black hair hanging in sheets around his

head. ED VALLENCOURT the quiet drummer, his long arms hanging

limply at his sides. His is a face made for the background. LARRY

TURNER the compact bass-player. Dick now kicks at the door with

his foot, as William produces a copy of Creem Magazine.

WILLIAM:

(to Dick)

Hi, I'm a journalist. I write for Creem

Magazine.

Once again, the magazine hangs there. He can't give it away.

JEFF:

The enemy! A rock writer!

WILLIAM:

(struggling forward)

I'd like to interview you or someone

from the band.

DICK:

(busy, running behind)

I'm sorry but could you please f***

off?

William blinks a little, takes it in stride. Russell sizes

him up, moving in the background.

WILLIAM:

Okay. Okay. I could do that.

JEFF:

You guys never listened to our records.

You're all just frustrated musicians.

Do you know what your magazine SAID

about us? What was it - "the singer's

incessant cater walling distracts From

an assault with no clear purpose."

LARRY:

(in background)

That was Rolling Stone.

RUSSELL:

Yeah. Okay. F*** off anyway. We

play for fans, not critics.

Stung, William shrugs. It's been a terrible night, but at

least thrillingly so.

WILLIAM:

Russell. Jeff. Ed. Larry.

(can't help it)

I really love your band. I think the

song "Fever Dog" is a big step forward

for you guys. I think you guys

producing it yourselves, instead of

Glyn Johns, was the right thing to do.

And the guitar sound was incendiary.

(gestures with fist)

Way to go.

He turns and leaves, beginning his long trek back up the ramp.

Russell looks at the others. That kind of love is hard to

give up.

RUSSELL:

(good humored, yelling)

Well don't stop there.

JEFF:

Yeah, come back here!! Keep going!

They wave him back, as the backstage door opens again. The

kid moves back down the ramp. They herd him in with them,

through the door. Scotty quickly spots the kid and squares

off.

Russell notes the kid's swirling emotional state, shoves him

forward.

SCOTTY:

Not this one.

RUSSELL:

He's with us.

SCOTTY:

He's not with you. He's not with them.

He's not on the list. He's not coming

in. And this is my arena. And

furthermore -

Russel craves the confrontation and moves forward closer to

Scotty.

SCOTTY (cont'd)

- have a good time tonight. Welcome

to San Diego.

27 INT. BACKSTAGE HALLWAY -- NIGHT27

The band moves quickly down the hallway, with William moving

to keep up. A young and grizzled red-haired roadie, RED DOG,

catches them on the way. The band swarms around him.

RUSSELL:

Red Dog!

RED DOG:

We're playing here tomorrow night.

JEFF:

(aside, to the kid)

This is Red Dog, the Allman Brothers

Band's number one roadie.

Russel clamps an arm around Red Dog's neck.

RUSSELL:

How're the guys?

RED DOG:

Havin a ball, man. When we have a

party, we have an Allman Brothers Band

party. Everybody boogies. Everybody

gets off. It's family, man. We all got

These now.

(flashes new mushroom tattoo

on forearm)

We'll see you guys in Boston, right?

(specifically to Russell)

Dicky and Gregg send you their love.

Camera catches flash of envy on the face of Jeff Bebe, as

Stillwater sweeps forward into a small dressing room.

28 INT. DRESSING ROOM -- NIGHT28

Dressing room activity swirls around him, as William simply

listens. He holds a small microphone. His stoic look gives away

little of the full body rush he's experiencing. As the other

band members drift across frame, Russell Hammond, a true rock and

roll believer, speaks as he straps on his guitar and gets ready

for the show. To the kid, every word is reckless gem.

RUSSELL:

... and it's okay, because rock and

roll is a LIFESTYLE... and a way of

thinking and it's not about money and

"popularity!"

JEFF:

Some money would be nice.

Jeff sprays some shaving cream into his palm, and rubs it into

his scalp - poor man's mousse.

RUSSELL:

- but it's a voice that says here I

am... and F*** YOU if you can't

understand me.

Russell smooths the strings of his guitar with a small cloth

from his guitar case. The kid notices all these close-up

details of rock.

RUSSELL (cont'd)

And one of those people is gonna save the

world and that means that ROCK AND ROLL

CAN SAVE THE WORLD -- all of us together.

The kid's eyes dance. He checks to make sure he's getting the

recording. He listens intently.

JEFF:

And the chicks are great.

RUSSELL:

But we didn't do it for that! We are

here because we needed to f***in be

here, not just 'cause we needed to

away from Troy, Michigan, WHICH WE

DID... but what it all comes down to

is that thing. The Indefinable Thing,

when people catch something from your

music, the thing you put into it. I'm

talking about... what am I talking

about?

WILLIAM:

(elegantly)

The buzz?

RUSSELL:

THE BUZZ! And the chicks, the

whatever, is an off-shoot of THE BUZZ.

And like -- you saying you liked "Fever

Dog?" That is the f***ing buzz, man.

All we get are these f***ing old-ass

interviewers who don't understand,

don't LISTEN, don't appreciate why we

are here, which is the f***in' BUZZ.

William nods, holds his microphone steady. Russell tunes his

guitar, ripping through unamplified guitar licks as he speaks.

Jeff hustles to reclaim his own connection to the interviewer.

JEFF:

The next album will be even better.

More texture.

RUSSELL:

But... it's not what you put in, is

it? It's what you leave out. Listen

to... listen to Marvin Gaye...

Russell's face grows rapturous as he discusses this piece of

music.

RUSSELL (cont'd)

A song like "What's Going On." That

single "woo" at the end of the second

verse - you know that woo - that single

"woo."

WILLIAM:

(proudly)

I know that, "woo."

RUSSELL:

(he does it)

That's what you remember. The silly

things, the little things... there's

only one, and it makes the song. It's

what you leave out. That's rock and

roll.

William nods, says nothing, keeps the microphone pointed.

Activity surrounds him.

JEFF:

(impressed)

We used to talk more about this stuff.

RUSSELL:

Okay. See, this is maybe the most

honest we've ever been in an interview

because you know our music. You're

the first press guy we've made friends

with. We don't normally talk like

this to them. And you're supposed to

be The Enemy! What are you - 18?

WILLIAM:

Yeah.

RUSSELL:

There you go. Still young enough to

be honest.

DICK:

(walkie talkie crackling)

Ten minutes 'till showtime, anyone who

isn't in the band -- out!

Russell takes a last swig of beer. A roadie whisks his guitar

away.

DICK (cont'd)

All this luggage is going to L.A.!

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