Game 6 Page #5
- Year:
- 2006
- 15 min
- 426 Views
NICKY:
A year and a half later? You're
still brooding?
A patron approaches the table and stares at Nicky with a
fixed grin of crazed recognition.
MAN:
Yessirree Bob! Yessisree Bob!
Nicky's jaw becomes set and he pours himself a glass of wine
as the man backs off.
ELLIOT:
You don't know about obscure
writers, Nicky. How we have our
anger to nurture and love. Our
murderous fantasies for any amount
of fame, money , power and sex.
The waitress comes by. She is Paisley Porter, attractive, in
her mid-twenties.
PAISLEY:
Guys ready to order?
ELLIOT:
Paisley Porter. I didn't know you
were waiting tables.
PAISLEY:
Elliot?
ELLIOT:
(to Nicky)
This is a great young out-of-work
actress.
PAISLEY:
Elliot Litvak. Have you been ill?
And Mr. Rogan. How nice.
NICKY:
What's good?
PAISLEY:
We have a very nice pasta today.
Alla Putanesca.
ELLIOT:
Say it again.
PAISLEY:
Alla puttanesca.
ELLIOT:
(to Nicky)
Isn't she great? What did I tell
you? A talent.
INT. RESTAURANT - LATER - SAME TABLE
The food has arrived. Nicky is eating compulsively -- in
contrast to Elliot, who sips his mineral water, dabs his
mouth with a napkin, looks around the restaurant between
bites. When Nicky is finished with his food, he begins
picking among the items on Elliot's plate. Elliot uses his
fork to deflect Nicky's fork and the two men have a brief
duel with utensils, fencing silently but intently, using
knives and spoons to vary action.
EXT. STREET
The asbestos mist still clings. Men in protective suits and
masks move slowly, like moon walkers. Halted traffic,
abandoned cars. Mud covering the sidewalks and shop windows.
A gauzy stillness, dreamlike.
INT. STEVEN SCHWIMMER'S LOFT
Stillness. A slow whirling 360-degree shot. The kitchen area
is empty. The door of the portable toilet is open and no one
is inside. The makeshift wardrobe is empty except for four or
five hangers with shirts and jackets. There is no one at the
desk or exercise bike.
A sound, faint but persistent, like an intake of air.
The bathroom. The toilet bowl has been ripped out and taken
away, leaving a hole in the floor. Brownish water drips from
the tap into the wash basin, which is indelibly stained. The
drip makes a two-part sound and it matches the rhythm of the
intake of air. One-two. Pause. One-two. The bathtub has been
sprayed by a graffiti artist. Multi-colored swirls and
arabesques.
Steven is sitting on a mat in the tub, arms in the air and
folded so that his fists are close to his ears. He is in
lotus position, breathing in serious meditation -- a deep
intake of breath followed by a softer expulsion, matching the
beat of the dripping faucet.
He is still wearing the sleep mask.
INT. RESTAURANT - MAIN ROOM - LATER
The kitchen staff is eating at a group of tables pushed
together. Nicky's table has been absorbed by this cluster and
he sits reading the sports section in a tabloid and having an
espresso with his cigar.
Elliot, Paisley and actor-waiter stand at the small bar in
conversation.
Next to Nicky, two kitchen workers talk about the ball game.
FIRST MAN:
I got a good feeling about tonight
SECOND MAN:
We got Ojeda going. He pitched
beautiful last time out.
FIRST MAN:
Plus Darryl's due for a big game.
NICKY:
I hate the Mets.
SECOND MAN:
How come?
NICKY:
When the Mets lose, they just lose.
It's a flat feeling. But the Red
Sox -- here we have a rich history
of interesting ways to lose a
crucial game. Defeats that keep you
awake, that pound in your head like
the hammer of fate.
Paisley walks across the room toward the kitchen. Nicky
pauses to watch her, then resumes speaking.
NICKY:
You can analyze a Red Sox defeat
day and night for a month and still
uncover layers of complex feelings -
- feelings you didn't know you were
capable of. The pain has a memory
all of it's own.
EXT. SHEA STADIUM
The parking lot is empty. The stands are empty. A few members
of the crew move the batting cage into place for batting
practice.
INT. SHEA STADIUM - LOCKER ROOM
The empty visitor's locker room. Uniforms hang on the doors
of the lockers in preparation for tonight's game. We see the
3names Henderson, Stanley, Buckner.
INT. THE MEN'S ROOM - A LITTLE LATER
Cramped quarters. Intensely claustrophobic. Elliot at the
urinal. Nicky at the hand-dryer. An actor-waiter standing
between them at the sink.
ELLIOT:
(quoting Steven Schwimmer)
`One thing saves Elliot Litvak's
work from complete mediocrity, and
this is his lack of ambition.'
WAITER:
It gets funnier.
ELLIOT:
(zipping up)
It gets funnier. See, Nicky? They
chart the laughs. This from a
critic who lives like a fallen
monk. Whose address is a carefully
guarded secret.
WAITER:
A critic who has to disguise
himself.
NICKY:
What do you mean?
WAITER:
To go to the theater. Wears I don't
know what. Make-up, padding.
NICKY:
Why?
WAITER:
Because he is so deeply hated by so
many people in the business.
ELLIOT:
He has to disguise himself, Nicky.
WAITER:
For his own safety and peace of
mind.
The waiter squeezes past and leaves.
ELLIOT:
Do you want me to tell you what it
was like, reading that review at
the newstand with trucks rumbling
past and street vendors facing
Mecca?
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