Sing Street Page #4

BROTHER BAXTER:

Well, you’ll have to get a pair

then. And report to me first thing

in the morning with them. Good man.

Brother Baxter exits. The class takes a sigh of relief. The

kid who was smoking releases a lung-full of smoke. Brother

Barnabas goes back to teaching Latin.

(CONTINUED)

17.

Conor leans into the BOY sitting next to him, MICK MAHON, a

really tough kid with a buzz cut and a gold stud earring.

CONOR:

Sorry, but where did he say the

restaurant was?

MICK MAHON:

The wha?

CONOR:

The restaurant? The cafeteria?

MICK MAHON:

You mean the canteen?

CONOR:

Yeah. Of course.

Mick just shakes his head in amazement.

MICK MAHON:

The “restaurant”. You’re not in

France now, you bleedin spanner.

EXT. SYNGE STREET YARD - DAY

Little break.

Kids play football with a punctured football. Others sit on

walls eating sweets. Conor wanders about on his own looking

for the canteen. He passes by the alleyway towards the P.E.

hall. From behind the bike sheds, a low whistle catches his

attention.

Down the alley way is a 15 year-old. He has a cigarette in

his hand. He has a skin head. His uniform is dirty and too

short for him. He wears scuffed loafers and a green bomber

jacket.

KID:

Do you smoke, do you?

CONOR:

Oh. Occasionally. I’m not really a

smoker. My brother is, and I

sometimes take a little of his

tobacco, if my friends are over.

And my dad used to smoke a pipe.

But he gave up.

KID:

Why are you telling me all this?

Come on and we’ll have a smoke.

Follow me.

(CONTINUED)

18.

Conor follows the kid, who enters a prefab marked TOILETS.

INT. THE BOY’S TOILET’S (CONTINUOUS) - DAY

This is a stinking prefabricated building, with a row of

urinals across from three cubicles. The floor is sticky and

wet. Conor follows the KID in.

He puts a cigarette in his mouth.

KID:

D’you want one?

CONOR:

Nah, I’m okay. I’ll just watch you.

I’ve already had a couple this

morning.

The kid pulls a Black Widow catapult from inside his bomber

jacket, and a large marble.

KID:

Did you ever see one these, did

you?

He loads it with the marble, and points it at Conor’s head.

KID:

I hear you’re a queer.

CONOR:

What?

KID:

I hear you’re a little queer?

CONOR:

No. You must have me mixed up with

someone else.

KID:

(scrutinizing him)

I don’t think so. Dance.

CONOR:

What?

KID:

Dance. Like a queer.

Conor doesn’t know how to deal with this.

CONOR:

Are you serious?

The kid aims the catapult at a light bulb, and fires, hitting

it perfectly, re-loading and pointing it back at Conor.

(CONTINUED)

19.

Conor starts a merry jig. The KID watches for a while, his

catapult ready.

KID:

Now dance with your pants down.

CONOR:

What?

KID:

Get into that cubicle. And dance

with your pants down.

Conor stops dancing.

CONOR:

No.

KID:

What did you just say.

CONOR:

No, I’m not doing that.

Silence. To his surprise, the kid disarms his catapult.

KID:

Okay. Bye Bye.

Conor walks past him, exiting hurriedly, baffled.

INT. THE CANTEEN (CONTINUOUS) - DAY

Conor is in a basement building. No windows. It’s lit with

fluorescent lights. Kids of all ages muck about. There’s a

ping pong table with no net or bats. There’s a tuck shop with

candy bars and a dinner lady deep frying chips at a window.

Music plays through a small ghetto blaster. Many kids are

smoking.

Conor heads for the tuck shop window, joining a rowdy queue

while searching for enough change in his pockets.

He manages to get 25 pence together and exchanges it for a

Mars bar. As he turns to exit, the KID from the toilet is

standing right behind him. He taps him on the shoulder. Conor

turns around.

People watch on, knowing that something is brewing.

The KID lets Conor have it, right on the eye. It’s a good

shot. People wince. Conor goes down on the ground.

The KID picks up Conor’s Mars Bar and rips it open; takes a

bite and throws away the rest. He turns and swaggers off.

People clear the way from him, keeping their distance.

(CONTINUED)

20.

The bell rings and everyone starts to shuffle off back to

class, some of them step over Conor, laughing.

As the room empties out, we hear a voice, off:

VOICE:

You should’ve just danced.

Conor looks over his shoulder. DARREN (who we met in the pretitle

scene) is crossing over towards him, putting on his

jacket.

EXT. SYNGE STREET YARD (CONTINUOUS) - DAY

Conor, now in the company of Darren, walks back towards his

classroom, holding his eye.

CONOR:

So you were there? In the toilets?

DARREN:

I’ve a touch of the scutters. So I

was in one of the cubicles all

morning with the liquid shits.

He smiles.

DARREN:

Darren’s the name.

He goes to shake hands. Conor take his hand, hiding his

reluctance.

CONOR:

Conor. Who is that psycho?

DARREN:

That’s Barry Bray. He eats hair

gel.

CONOR:

What?

DARREN:

Yeah. He ate a pot of hair gel in

class once. No one knows why.

The only problem now is, he’ll be

out for your blood.

CONOR:

Why?

DARREN:

Because you’ve shown weakness.

CONOR:

How do you know him?

(CONTINUED)

21.

We hold on Conor, looking increasingly worried. Synge Street

is certainly living up to its reputation.

DARREN:

He lives in the same flats as me.

His ma and da are mad drug addicts.

People say he was conceived on

acid. And it got into his

bloodstream. But don’t worry, you

just need to come up with a plan

for the year. A solution. Here.

He hands him a slip of paper from a plastic wallet. It reads,

in marker:

Darren Mulvey. Business solutions.

Saint Teresa’s Gardens. Flat 221.

“Your problem is my solution!”

DARREN:

Call me any time.

CONOR:

There’s no number on it.

DARREN:

No, we don’t have a phone. Just

call around.

They arrive outside Conor’s class.

CONOR:

This is my class. Where are you?

DARREN:

Ah they kept me back a year. Or

two. I can’t really read very well.

CONOR:

Right. How’s that going to work, in

business?

DARREN:

(leaning in)

I can read people. And you’re

alright. But you won’t survive in

here unless we deal with Barry.

CONOR:

What about telling the Brothers?

DARREN:

Hah! You could do that, yeah.

Darren heads off, laughing.

(CONTINUED)

22.

Conor heads back into class. The door slams behind him with a

menacing “SLAM”

INT. CONOR’S HOUSE - NIGHT

Penny stands in the hallway, shouting upstairs.

PENNY:

Bren! Conor! It’s on.

Brendan exits his room quickly. He is carrying his drinking

and smoking accoutrements. He passes Conor’s door as Conor

exits. The two of them run downstairs. It’s like a fire

drill.

INT. THE SITTING ROOM (CONTINUOUS) - NIGHT

Brendan and Conor burst into the sitting room. Their father

is sitting at the table drinking a whiskey. The collar of his

jacket is turned up, and he has a scarf on. In front of him,

a few architectural drawings, draftsman kit, sliding rule

etc. He is sketching plans for a building that will never be

built.

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