Game 6 Page #2

---

JOANNA:

Apparently it didn't help. You know

about Peter, of course.

NICKY:

Our Peter?

JOANNA:

Peter Redmond. They found out why

he can't remember his lines.

There's something living in his

brain. A parasite he picked up in

Borneo, doing the movie.

NICKY:

Can he get through it?

JOANNA:

They're watching him closely.

There's a special rehearsal set for

this afternoon. To bolster his

confidence. And that's not all.

NICKY:

I've got bigger problems, Joanna.

Personal problems.

JOANNA:

That's not all, Nicky. I've been

backing your plays for fifteen

years. And I've never been more

depressed.

NICKY:

About what?

JOANNA:

Steven Schwimmer. The most powerful

critic in America gets his first

crack at Nicky Rogan.

NICKY:

(hiding his concern)

Look. All I want is a haircut. I'm

not worried about this guy.

JOANNA:

Ever since he started reviewing the

Broadway theater, nobody in this

business has been worried about

anything else.

NICKY:

They can send their heartless

brilliant boy-critic. There's a

much bigger thing going on than

tonight's opening.

JOANNA:

What?

NICKY:

The Red Sox

JOANNA:

You mean the World Series? I

thought the Red Sox were winning.

NICKY:

Three games to two. But if you know

their history, you realize there's

a tragedy in the making. I've been

carrying this franchise on my back

since I was six years old.

JOANNA:

It can't be all that personal.

Joanna enters the walk-in closet to finish undressing and get

a nightdress.

NICKY:

If you have a team you've followed

all your life, and they raise your

hopes and crush them, and lift them

and crush them, do you want me to

tell you what it's like? It's like

feeling your childhood die over and

over.J

JOANNA:

I mean Nicky, really, no.

Nicky follows her into the closet, still in his shirt and

boxer shorts.

JOANNA:

I'm proud of this play. It's so

different from anything you've

done.

NICKY:

This is how we've managed to last.

JOANNA:

We're able to surprise each other.

NICKY:

In and out of bed.

JOANNA:

Because we're completely

mismatched.

NICKY:

We don't even like each other, do

we?

Nicky walks out of the closet, takes off his shirt, gets into

bed.

JOANNA:

I used to tell myself. Talent is

more erotic when it's wasted. Will

I see you tonight?

NICKY:

The Red Sox blow a chance to win

their first World Series since

1918. You expect me to miss that

for an opening night?

Joanna emerges from the closet in her nightdress and gets

into bed.

JOANNA:

It makes me so mad. Steven

Schwimmer ready to strike. The

exterminating angel.

NICKY:

It's all worked out. They'll lose

tonight. Then they'll lose

tomorrow. I see it with stunning

clarity.

JOANNA:

It's your best play, Nicky.

NICKY:

They'll lose because they're my

team.

JOANNA:

He will absolutely hate it.

INT. STEVEN SCHWIMMER'S LOFT

Steven is just waking up. The radio plays soft music.

He reaches over and hits the off button, then activates the

cassette player. He struggles out of bed and Sufi music

begins to fill the room.

He stands at the foot of the bed, a man in his mid-twenties,

hollow-chested, slightly potbellied, wearing rumpled pajama

bottoms and a Mostly Mozart T-shirt.

He does not remove the sleep mask.

The music has a sensuous, driving beat. Voices begin to

chant.

Steven holds his arms parallel to the floor. Slowly he begins

to turn, clockwise. The beat picks up and he whirls more

quickly, his mouth coming open.

Now he begins to whirl about the room. The chanting grows in

intensity. Although he is blindfolded, Steve deftly avoids

running into furniture and other objects.

Steven stops whirling at the precise moment the music stops

playing. He is back at the foot of the bed, arms stretched

wide.

INT. TAXI

Creeping along. Nicky leaning toward the driver.

NICKY:

I wrapped my sandwiches in tinfoil.

I ate and drove. I had one of those

big checkered cabs.

DRIVER:

You are going where?

NICKY:

Crosstown.

DRIVER:

Very bad today.

Driver's nameplate --

CHOUDHURY:

RAMASWAMY:

NICKY:

I cleaned out the ashtrays

religiously.

DRIVER:

I am sitting here five years in

traffic. It is one continuous

traffic since I arrive. Why must it

be?

A taxi pulls up alongside. Nicky notices the young woman in

the rear seat. It is his daughter Laurel. He opens his

window.

NICKY:

Laurel, stay there.

(to his driver)

Keep the meter running. And try to

stay abreast.

Nicky leaves his taxi and gets into Laurel's.

INT. SECOND TAXI

Nicky pushes in next to her. Laurel is eighteen, slightly

overweight, with a pleasant and expressive face. She is

carrying books in a nylon haversack.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes