Croupier
- NOT RATED
- Year:
- 1998
- 94 min
- 693 Views
FADE IN:
INT. CASINO - NIGHT
A roulette table. The PUNTERS place their bets. TWELVE
PLAYERS, nine men, three women. The FACES of the men, all
ages, intense, hopeful, fearful. Which of them is JACK?
JACK'S VOICE
Now he had become the still centre
misfortune.
A MAN'S hand spins the wheel. The ball is thrown against
the spin. Hands, faces, chips...
JACK'S VOICE
leaving him miraculously untouched
The little white ball circles the
spinning wheel.
The PUNTERS'S faces as the ball starts to bounce. All eyes
are on the bouncing ball.
JACK'S VOICE
The croupier had reached his goal.
He no longer heard the sound of
the ball.
The back of the CROUPIER'S hand, his slicked-back short
hair, razor cut. The CAMERA moves around to his face...
JACK'S VOICE
To begin with he was Jack Manfred...
whistling sound takes Jack back in time.
INT. PUBLISHER'S OFFICE - DAY
JACK is walking through a maze of open-plan partitioned
offices. He ls casually but fashionably dressed, hair dyed
blond long, a nervous elegance about him, almost
unrecognisable from the croupier's face.
He searches for the right office. He finds it. The name on
the open is GILES CREMORNE.
INT. GILES' OFFICE - DAY
GILES CREMORNE, a public schoolboy in his late twenties
comes forward and vigorously shakes JACK'S hand. Jacketless,
he wears yellow braces. Next to his tidy desk is a slot
machine.
GILES:
Take a pew, Jack. You look well.
What's it been, two years since we
broke bread?
GILES has an upper-class accent, but an acquired street
manner.
JACK:
Three years, two months. March
'93.
GILES:
What a memory you've got. Maths
always was your strong suit. What
happened to the moaning Lisa?
JACK:
She went back to South Africa.
GILES:
(digging)
Did she?
(smiles)
You were pretty thick at one time.
JACK:
We all played the field.
GILES frowns at a memory, an implication. GILES'S mobile
phone buzzes. He picks up.
GILES:
Hi-ya... I'll call you back.
(to Jack)
Now then...
JACK:
(suddenly)
I want a job, Giles.
GILES:
(cautiously)
All right. As what?
JACK:
I was thinking perhaps I could be
a reader. You employ readers, don't
you?
GILES:
We do. For unsolicited manuscripts.
We pay twenty pounds a manuscript.
You might get two, maybe three in
a week. Can you live on sixty
pounds?
JACK opens a pack of Gitanes.
GILES:
Sorry. This is a no-smoking office,
Jack. You've written a book, haven't
you? I didn't read it myself, but --
A WOMAN SECRETARY puts her head into the office.
GILES:
Give me ten minutes, Fiona.
FIONA puts a fax on GILES'S desk, smiles at JACK, and goes.
GILES:
Fiona used to read for me.
He winks at JACK.
GILES:
Let me tell you about our operation.
We like personality authors. People
the public recognises. Celebrity's
what sells books. We can always
find someone to do the writing.
First, we need the face. Then the
concept.
(he is reading the
fax)
Right now I'm looking for a soccer
novel. Something where a tycoon
buys a lousy team and takes it to
the top. Seven figure transfer
fees. Corruption all down the line.
Violence on and off the pitch.
Steroids. Got any concepts? It
could be a thug story. I tell you
what. Why don't you think about
it. A couple of pages. The pitch.
Steroids. Got any concepts? It
could be a thug story. I tell you
what. Why don't you think about
it. A couple of pages.
(smiles)
With plenty of sex, of course.
GILES pops a coin into the slot machine, pulls the handle,
waits.
JACK:
Interesting, Giles. I will think
about it.
The machine spits out several coins. GILES takes them.
GILES:
Let me give you three words of
advice, Jack. Don't give up. Stick
with it. Who persists wins. That's
my motto. Write, write, write.
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"Croupier" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 5 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/croupier_409>.
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