My Best Friend's Wedding Page #19

INT. BEDROOM - MORNING

Julianne sprawled all over the bed, mouth open like a carp,

sleeping mask against the daylight. A sudden RAPPING at the

door, and she...

... sits BOLT UPRIGHT. Utterly disoriented, until she pulls off

the mask. Stumbles out of bed, walking toward the firm KNOCKING,

when...

... it stops. A message slip SLIDES beneath her door. She lifts

it, barely conscious. This wakes her up. In one.

JULIANNE:

(to the slip)

You're going where?

EXT. WALLACE ESTATE - DAY

Julianne climbs from her taxi. Only slightly in awe, she sets off

past the reflecting pool, which fronts a mansion of graceful stone

and timber. It's a hike today, because the circular drives is

clogged deep with Bentleys, Mercedes, and waiting limos, vying for

space with a score of delivery vehicles of all kinds, maintenance

trucks, catering and florist and food vans.

INT. GREAT ROOM - DAY

Julianne escorted into an enormous room, where brunch is in

progress for more than a hundred. She looks from the vaulted

ceilings, to the frescoed walls, the inlaid floors, the massive

pipe organ above the stone staircase, the oil portraits of Scottish

ancestors and their favorite dogs.

Isabelle has risen from the main table, and comes to her. All

smiles. Julianne is in the Twilight Zone. What are these people

laughing about? Do they still think there's a wedding?

ISABELLE:

Jules. We're so glad you

slept in.

Takes her arm graciously. This woman would make Anne Bancroft look

coarse. As they walk...

ISABELLE:

Now, you have a choice. The idea

is bride and groom shouldn't see

each other on the magic day...

Julianne looking all around. Magic day it seems to be. Where the

bell is a bride or a groom?

ISABELLE:

So Michael stays put in the garden.

Kimmy stays in here...

Pointing. THERE she is, obscured by a cluster of the appropriately

fawning. She has the same hunted eyes and false, slightly manic

smile Julianne wore yesterday. This, at least, makes sense.

ISABELLE (O.S.)

... and the guests go back and

forth. Where will you start?

CLOSE on Julianne. Watching the brave, frightened bride.

JULIANNE:

She looks tense.

ISABELLE:

(O.S., calmly)

Nerves. I would never have

guessed.

EXT. ROSE GARDEN - DAAY

A steward leads Julianne to the edge of an expansive rose garden,

altogether elegant and comfortable with its long white picnic

tables, where nearly a hundred guests casually dine, served by

rolling carts.

There, at the head table, Michael staring at us. He looks like a

poor attempt to cover a hard night. She locks onto his eyes. What

the hell is going on? He looks helpless, miserable. She gestures

with her head, follow me. Stalks off.

EXT. SCULPTURE GARDEN - DAY

Bronze abstract pieces, some quite large, face a huge set of

children's swings, regulation playground size. Julianne sits in

one, moving slightly back and forth. Trying to hold on to her

temper and her sanity.

In the distance, trucks are winding their way to and from the pond,

where crews are setting up tents, lights, heaters for tonight. The

circus has come to town. When she looks back...

Michael approaches. Before he can draw a breath...

JULIANNE:

I had the craziest dream last

night? Walter and Kimmy had

asked your boss to...

MICHAEL:

Look, I came down here to face

everybody. I didn't want to

slink away like some coward...

JULIANNE:

But the Scotch salmon was so

f***ing good, you decided to

stay for brunch!

MICHAEL:

She hasn't told anybody, what

am I supposed to do?

JULIANNE:

Get married, apparently.

She comes OFF the swing, PUSHES him back two feet.

JULIANNE:

What the hell are you thinking

of, the goddamn wedding is SIX

O'CLOCK!!

He swallows hard. Trapped.

MICHAEL:

This is her family and her

fault.

JULIANNE:

And your point?

MICHAEL:

(ten years old)

Well. How come she didn't...

JULIANNE:

BECAUSE SHE'S AS CHICKENSHIT AS

YOU ARE, YOU MORONS ARE MADE FOR

EACH OTHER.

He just blinks.

MICHAEL:

Hey. This is a serious matter.

Thank you. She POKES his chest, punctuating...

JULIANNE:

I'll be right back.

INT. KITCHEN - DAY

A modern take on the Medieval castle kitchen, towering ceilings,

dark wood, copper pots hanging, a series of walk-in coolers and

freezers. The place is a madhouse of activity, as prep cooks

slice, chop, sort, every kind of food imaginable, and delivery

teams bring more.

The girls walk through. Alone together in the eye of the

hurricane. Kim choked with excess sentiment...

KIMMY:

Look at all this beautiful food,

so lovingly prepared...

JULIANNE:

They'll eat it anyway, you ever

been to a walk?

Kimmy's lip trembles. This is not how she thought of her wedding.

The din is so horrific, Kimmy leads them into a walk-in meat

locker. Even here, two BUTCHERS are dressing Eastern-fresh corn-

fed carcasses.

JULIANNE:

You guys want to give us a

minute?

The men blink at each other.

JULIANNE:

We'd like to be alone with

our pork.

On that basis. They leave. Kimmy sits on a stack of packaged

frozen fowl parts. Stares up with big, sweet, wet eyes.

KIMMY:

How's he doing?

Julianne cannot believe this.

JULIANNE:

Who? The jerk who's running

your life?

KIMMY:

This must be... very, very,

hard on him.

JULIANNE:

What with the psychosis and

all, yeah.

Leans in. Listen...

JULIANNE:

When are you gonna come clean

with your folks?

KIMMY:

Don't you see...

JULIANNE:

If you're waiting for "Do you

take this man?", that's

considered poor form.

KIMMY:

... that this is all my fault?

Stops Julianne cold. Your fault.

KIMMY:

Whatever delusions I drove him to,

there is truth at the heart of it.

I want him to work for my father.

I want to stay in school. I want

a life of my own!

Harder and harder for Julianne to push. Her mouth is dry.

JULIANNE:

Yeah, well, lots of couples are

imcompat...

KIMMY:

I love him.

Fragile and strong at once. A plea.

KIMMY:

Tell him it's my fault and

that I love him.

A long beat.

JULIANNE:

I'll be right back.

EXT. TENNIS COURT - DAY

The court has become a giant holding pen for tonight's BALLOONS.

There are maybe a billion in assorted colors already blowing in all

directions, under clear plastic sheeting which has ben spread

across the top of the court's chain-link fence.

Michael stands outside the court, clutching the chain link like a

prisoner, as Julianne comes through the gate. From somewhere, we

hear high, squeaky, alien voice-like SOUNDS. Incongruous

against...

MICHAEL:

How is she?

Julianne absorbs this. As the bizarre SOUNDS continue, she WHIRLS

around...

JULIANNE:

KNOCK IT OFF!!!

We now see three STONER COLLEGE GUYS, who have been filling the

endless array of balloons from helium tanks at center court.

Clearly, they've been inhaling their working materials.

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