Game 6
- Year:
- 2006
- 15 min
- 426 Views
INT. LOFT APARTMENT - MANHATTAN - MORNING
STEVEN SCHWIMMER, a drama critic, asleep on his bed. He
wears a sleep mask.
The bed is a mattress on a makeshift platform.
Papers strewn on the floor.
An exercise bike.
A desk with and old manual typewriter, reference works,
periodicals, Styrofoam cups.
A cast-off sofa with pants, shirts, sweater, underwear and
socks tossed haphazardly on the cushions and arms.
A counter that sets apart the kitchen area. A portable TV set
on the counter. The remains of dinner for one.
A row of stacked cardboard boxes with mail spilling out on
the floor. Boxes are labeled in crayon: HATE MAIL.
A coffee table with a candle nub in a saucer and six gleaming
rounds of ammunition scattered next to a Llama Comanche .357
Magnum with a checkered walnut stock -- overall length, nine
and a quarter inches.
A Port-O-San toilet, about seven feet high, orange, scarred
and dented -- scavenged from a construction site.
A snapshot on the bedside table. It's a blurry picture of
Steven holding a cat. Steven wears a peaked cap, and a shadow
falls across his face. Next to the picture is a clock radio,
which comes on with a buzz as the clock shows nine AM.
RADIO ANNOUNCER begins to speak --
LONE EAGLE (V.O.)
(softly)
Traffic flowing smoothly on the
Deegan right now but if you're
lucky enough to have a ticket for
tonight's game, be sure to leave
early because it's going to be
bumper to bumper.
Steven does not stir.
EXT. LOFT BUILDING2
Steven's loft is in an old squat building on 47th Street near
Twelfth Avenue. The structure looks abandoned. Graffiti
everywhere. Entranceway filled with debris.
LONE EAGLE (V.O.)
Another day of traffic. Traffic
everywhere I look. Cars stop and
move and stop again. People sit at
the wheel thinking their thoughts.
EXT. UNITED NATIONS PLAZA APTS - - MORNING
The shimmering glass facade of the United Nations Plaza
Apartments at 48th Street and First Avenue. A man visible at
a window on one of the high floors, a cup of coffee in his
hand.
LONE EAGLE (V.O.)
Day in, day out. Red light, green
light. Traffic on the major
arteries and traffic in the little
veins.
From his POV we see the traffic below creeping along, nearly
at a standstill.
LONE EAGLE (V.O.)
Cars, vans, taxis, trucks, limos,
Mopeds, bikes and buses. Emergency
vehicles screaming and wailing.
Birth and death, walk and don't
walk.
The man takes a sip of coffee.
LONE EAGLE (V.O.)
Traffic yesterday, today and
tomorrow. Bumper to bumper, soul to
soul. This is Lone Eagle over and
out.
EXT. 47TH STREET AND FIRST AVENUE - A LITTLE LATER
The same man -- the playwright Nicky Rogan with his hand in
the air, hailing a cab. He is forty-five, vigorous, wearing
well-made sporty clothes.
OCTOBER 25, 1986
INT. TAXI
Stalled in traffic.
NICKY:
I used to drive a taxi.
DRIVER:
Where you're going, mister?
Nicky glances at the driver's name plate
KAGANOVICH:
ANATOLI:
NICKY:
I used to drive a taxi.
DRIVER:
I used to be head of neurosurgery.
Big hospital in USSR. This
hospital, I'm not kidding.
NICKY:
Very big.
DRIVER:
NICKY:
What did you find?
DRIVER:
Big mess every time.
NICKY:
I loved my taxi. Went twelve hours
nonstop. Stopped only to pee. I
peed under the Manhattan bridge.
playgrounds.
EXT. STREET CORNER
47th Street and Third Avenue. A man is dancing with a life-
size cloth doll. His tape player is on the sidewalk, playing
and instrumental version of "Beautiful Dreamer" and there is
a cigar box for donations. A few people look on from a
distance. The man wearing an old cutaway, with running shoes,
and the doll has long red tresses and wears a frilly gown.
Nicky emerges from a taxi at the corner and walks rapidly
past the dancing man.
Nicky crosses the courtyard to Buchanan Apartments.
INT. FOYER
JOANNA BOURNE reaching for the door. Joanna is fifty-ish,
handsome, stylishly dressed.
INT. BUCHANAN APARTMENT - SECONDS LATER
Nicky and Joanna embracing with wordless abandon.
They are in the hallway clutching each other, stumbling. The
walls on either side are hung with expensive art.
They grapple past the living room. Fleeting look at the
paintings by Longo and Fischl, a poster by the Guerilla
Girls.
The edge of the bedroom. Nicky is crawling into the room and
Joanna is hanging on to him, being dragged. They are fully
dressed except for one of Joanna's shoes.
The bedroom. A Lichtenstein, a Hockney, a silk-screen of
Joanna by Andy Warhol. A Jeff Koons piece. Nicky and Joanna
roll on the floor until they are halfway under the bed.
INT. HALLWAY
Muffled sounds from the bedroom. We track to:
The maid's room. The maid is smoking a cigarette and reading
New York magazine. The cover is partly obscured by her hand
but we can see a blurry black-and-white photo of a man
hurrying along a street with a newspaper over his face,
shielding himself from the camera. Over the photo, three
words visible:
THE PHANTOM WHO -- A second line of type istoo small to be legible.
INT. BEDROOM -- LATER
Nicky and Joanna are undressing after the fact, very slowly
and distractedly. Joanna stands by a chair near the window.
Nicky is on the other side of the bed and he alternates
between standing and sitting as he takes off his clothes.
JOANNA:
Last night. Alan Albright called me
a handsome woman. Second time he's
done that. Son of a b*tch.
NICKY:
I hear Alan's sick.
JOANNA:
Alan's very sick. He has to go to
New Mexico and sit in a lukewarm
solution.
NICKY:
You know about Adele.
JOANNA:
What about her?
NICKY:
She's dying.
JOANNA:
She died.
NICKY:
I talked to her two days ago.
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"Game 6" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 5 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/game_6_986>.
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