Midnight Cowboy
A Susskind-type MODERATOR is speaking into camera:
MODERATOR:
Tonight we'll discuss a subject
most of us seem to consider either
bad taste or frivolous or funny.
But if our experts are right, we
masculinity crisis. Every fourth
American man uptight, threatened by
the increasing sexual demands of
American women...
An IRATE WOMAN speaks into camera:
IRATE WOMAN:
They always put it that way, but
well, all it means, you know, is
every fourth American woman's never
satisfied. That's it. I never am --
have been, you know...
A COOL WOMAN speaks into camera:
COOL WOMAN:
This, this image of the, the man
eating woman. It isn't our
increasing demands. I think it's
the shrinking American male...
A SAD WOMAN speaks into camera:
SAD WOMAN:
No, I never had, well, whatever it
is you call it. But the hours he
works, I can't blame him...
INT. CAFETERIA SCULLERY (TEXAS) - DAY
Full frame -- a scandal sheet picture of a sex-starved wife,
naked while her husband sleeps, captioned I BUY WHAT MY
HUSBAND CAN'T GIVE.
SAD WOMAN'S VOICE
... but it's a problem. A big
problem. With so many women I
know...
Camera pulls back to show the picture among other pinups of
women -- rich, beautiful or naked, but all blonde -- steam
wilted on the wall over a dishwashing machine. JOE BUCK grins
at the wall as he scrapes garbage.
JOB:
Just keep your pants on, ladies...
MULTIPLE SPLIT SCREEN
A LADY COMMENTATOR, gradually surrounded by lonely women...
BEAUTY PARLOR:
FASHION SHOW:
PSYCHIATRIST'S COUCH
COCKTAIL BAR:
GYMNASIUM:
STATUE OF LIBERTY
LADY COMMENTATOR
Before World War One -- American
men outnumbered women by over six
percent. Today American women not
only outnumber men, but live five
years longer -- leaving them in
control of vast corporate wealth
and seventy-five percent of
America's purchasing power...
The Lady Commentator is replaced by Joe, stacking dishes,
surrounded by frustrated ladies. He laughs tolerantly.
JOE:
Y'all,line up and take your turn...
The Moderator smiles into camera.
MODERATOR:
My question is this -- will
American know-how come up with a
marketable male to replace all the
men who are worrying themselves
into an early grave over women's
increasing sexual demands?
Joe sings as he soaps himself, "Whoopee ti yi yo, git along
little dogies, for you know New York will be your new home!"
Sound and image freeze on Joe's open mouth.
SUPERIMPOSED MAIN TITLE AND CREDITS
TITLES follow as indicated, sound and action continuing after
each credit.
Joe's song continues over a sweating WAITRESS, glancing up.
WAITRESS:
Where's that Joe Buck?
Wrapped in a towel, singing in front of his dresser mirror,
Joe sprays himself with deodorant, aiming a last playful
blast at the unseen crotch -- freezing song and image as
CREDITS continue over...
... a calendar girl on the wall blushing orange, mouth frozen
in a tiny O, staring wide-eyed. Joe's song continues as...
... Joe rips the wrapping from a new Stetson and sets it on
his head, freezing song and image as CREDITS continue.
RALPH, an aging black man, faces a mountain of dirty dishes.
RALPH:
Where's that Joe Buck?
Singing as he buttons his new cowboy shirt, Joe interrupts
himself to answer Ralph...
JOE:
Yeah, where's that Joe Buck?
... continuing his song as he pulls up and zips his tight
thighed black slacks, freezing song and image for CREDITS.
INT. REMEMBERED BEAUTY PARLOR - ANOTHER TIME
SALLY BUCK, a pretty middle-aged blonde, smiles down at
camera,
SALLY BUCK:
You look real nice, Joe baby...
Joe sings as he pulls on his new cowboy boots, arranging his
cuffs to show off the yellow sunburst at the ankle, freezing
song and image for CREDITS.
The pink MANAGER scowls at his pocket watch.
MANAGER:
Where's that Joe Buck?
Joe hums as he piles a complete wardrobe of cowboy clothes,
still in their wrappers, into a shiny new suitcase of black
and white horsehide.
JOE:
Yeah, where's that Joe Buck?
Holding his watch, the Manager wags a finger at camera.
MANAGER:
You're due here at four o'clock.
Look at those dishes, look!
Joe laughs as he locks his suitcase.
JOE:
Know what you can do with those
dishes? And if you ain't man enough
to do it yourself, I'd be happy to
oblige...
Joe picks up his suitcase, a portable transistor radio, walks
away from the mirror, then pauses to run a comb through his
hair, hook a cigarette at the corner of his mouth and strike
a match on his thumbnail before he turns back for one
admiring glance at himself in the mirror -- proud, exultant,
ready -- freezing the image as CREDITS END.
EXT. TEXAS TOWN MAIN STREET - DAY
Joe leaves the hotel, carrying his suitcase.
The pink Manager points at his watch angrily.
MANAGER:
Four to midnight, understand?
Angle widens to include Joe, holding his suitcase and radio.
Ralph stares at him curiously, stacking dishes.
JOE:
Say, look, uh, I gotta have a word
with you, if you got a second.
MANAGER:
Later. Later maybe.
The Manager hurries away, carrying a basket of dishes.
RALPH:
You ain't coming to work?
JOE:
Don't guess. Just come for my day's
pay owing and to tell you I'm
heading East.
Joe tilts his Stetson as the Waitress appears at the door...
WAITRESS:
Cups!
... but she disappears without noticing Joe. Ralph offers his
RALPH:
What you gonna do back there, East?
JOE:
Lotta rich women back there...
RALPH:
Yeah?
JOE:
Men, they mostly faggots.
RALPH:
Must be some mess back there.
JOE:
Well, ain't no use hanging around
here.
RALPH:
JOE:
I got me two hundred twenty-four
bucks of flat folding money...
(slaps hip)
He know what he can do with that
chicken-sh*t day's pay. And if he
ain't man enough to do it for
himself, I be happy to oblige!
The door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY swings open and Joe appears,
measuring his effect on the customers and his fellow
employees as he crosses the sterile white dining room,
observing the drab details of the life he has left behind -
garbage on greasy dishes, limp food in steam table trays,
coffee-soaked cigarette butts, caked mustard and ketchup on
formica table tops -- two pimply high school girls slurping
suggestive noises after Joe through the straws of empty coke
glasses. O.S. a Tiomkin-tradition chorus sings, "From this
valley they say you are going -- we will miss your bright
eyes and sweet smile for they say you are taking the
sunshine..."
The song ends as Joe comes from the cafeteria "... that
brightened our pathway a while."
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"Midnight Cowboy" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 5 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/midnight_cowboy_327>.
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