Miami Vice Page #15

CROCKETT:

waves her over to join him behind the wheel. He holds out

his left hand to steady her. He brings her to him. Both

lean against his high upholstered chair. He holds her to his

side. Indicates the wheel...

CROCKETT:

Light touch. Everything comes to

you through the wheel.

CROCKETT:

stays on the throttle, throttling back when the props are out

of the water so you don't redline the engine and forward

when reentering. The swells are now four feet. They launch

off each, get airborne, cut into the next...

CROCKETT (cont'd)

How do we get into Cuba?!

ISABELLA:

My cousin is the harbor master.

You must not bring in drugs. You

cannot be armed. If you're

carrying, it has to go. Or stow it

inside. No one will go near your

boat...

CROCKETT:

You do business in Cuba with your

husband?

ISABELLA:

I never do business in Cuba.

(beat)

And nobody goes to Cuba but me.

(smiles)

And he is not my husband...

Crockett's surprised. And he doesn't push it.

CROCKETT:

Were you born in Havana?

ISABELLA:

Angola. My mother was being a

surgeon there. She volunteered.

Mozambique and Mali, too...

(over the wind)

...those days, in those days...she

was part of Cuba's gift to the

third world. She came from a

bourgeois family with a house in

Verdado...we still have the house.

We will go there...

CROCKETT:

Where's she now?

ISABELLA:

She's dead...

Crockett looks at her. Her perspective is that of the '60's

and '70's, the politics of national liberation, the

perspective of Marcuse and Franz Fanon.

CROCKETT:

Your father?

ISABELLA:

Angolan Military. Went back to the

fighting. Disappeared. Who

knows...?

Isabella looks at the look on Crockett's face.

ISABELLA (cont'd)

Go ahead and ask...

CROCKETT:

How's he not your husband?

ISABELLA:

I am no one's wife. I live in my

own house. I do not live in a

man's house. He has a wife. We

are together. I am free. Because

of banking and finance and travel...

(looks at him, shouts over

wind)

And I can do anything I want...

She laughs. She has that combination of intellect, beauty

and youth. Everything is possible...life will never

end...she can ride this crest eternally.

And Crockett knows that her confidence makes her oblivious to

peril, makes "right now" too real because she believes she

will live forever.

CROCKETT:

can't help it. He looks right at her. She lifts her face to

the spray. Some clouds part and light strikes her...

And Crockett wants to possess her; to protect her. He wants

no one else to have her. He wants no harm to come to her.

And this is an impulse that takes him over to the core of who

he is. And, as we MOVE IN CLOSER, Crockett has to turn

away...

ISABELLA:

sees this. She's quizzical. Crockett looks back at her.

Their eyes connect.

"BORN TO WIN"

leaps...

CROCKETT:

his left arm around her shoulder, his right on the wheel.

She rocks back against his body. They rip across the seas...

CUT TO:

INT. "JAZZ" - A HAVANA NIGHTCLUB JAMMED WITH PEOPLE - NIGHT

14-piece Afro-Cuban band. IN THE PRESS OF dancers at a small

table, Crockett and Isabella...

CROCKETT:

(shouts over noise)

Mojitas...?

ISABELLA:

(shouting back)

Later! Do you dance?

CROCKETT:

I dance...

They move into the crowd under two-story high windows

overlooking Meyer Lansky's Hotel Riviera - freeze-dried 1959

Las Vegas.

CROCKETT + ISABELLA

Whatever we knew about Sonny Crockett, we did not know he

could dance. Their feet, their knees and thighs, perfectly

matched, they samba, like lightning.

He swings her around and turns her to a close embrace as

their hips and legs parallel each other's, as he turns her

under his arm, stops her, pulls her backwards into his body,

her hips into his, the fast beat, the footwork, and he spins

her back facing him, pressing her closer as it gets faster

and...

CUT TO:

INT. BEDROOM - CROCKETT + ISABELLA

fall onto a bed, shedding the last of their clothes, making

love in a house somewhere. Beyond them is an open window to

the ocean. The sky turns red and grey but the water stays

molten.

Their eyes are open...because they're locked together the

whole time and their faces are steady and urgently surprised

because this is not language; not a symbol, not a

representation of a thing. Jesus Montoya is not here. Miami

is not here. This is discovery. This is fact. They have

discovered each other and have never felt like this about

anyone before in their lives.

CUT TO:

INT. HOUSE, BEDROOM - CROCKETT - MORNING

His eyes open. He wakes up. Light and situation flood in.

He does not know where he is. He pulls on his pants.

Barefoot, he walks to the window. The interior is high-

ceilinged with immaculately polished floors. And Crockett

looks around, a stranger in a stranger place.

EXT. THE BALCONY - CROCKETT

enters. The paint on the outside of this house is peeling

and patinaed with stain. The yard is overgrown. The stucco

fence around the streamline deco facade is crumbling from

weather and time...

CROCKETT WATCHES THE OCEAN

from the balcony of the futuristic villa in Verdado... A

futurism from 1939, peeling aqua, aging science fiction.

Wherever we are in the world, this place is out of the

stream, outside history. And Isabella, this woman from a

different world, enters, brings him an oversized cup of

coffee. In his trousers, Crockett drapes an arm across her

shoulders and they stand in the air.

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