St. Vincent

FADE IN:

INT. BEDROOM - DAY

A bedroom stuck in the 1970’s. Felt wallpaper, cigarette

smoke stains, thick dust. Pictures everywhere of a MAN

(VINCENT) and a WOMAN (SANDY) in love. They couldn’t

look happier. Young, full of life.

On the bed, an African American woman, CHARISSE, rides on

top of someone we’ll soon meet. Charisse is lost in her

30s, rough, tattooed, too much makeup, and somewhere

underneath it all...beautiful. Furthermore, she’s

pregnant. Who knows how long, she’s so damn skinny.

Grinding away.

CHARISSE:

You eat breakfast yet?

She’s talking to VINCENT (mostly VIN.) Whom she’s

riding. He’s the guy from the pictures, although now in

his 60s/70s. Beat-to-hell, raw, irreverent. He gave up

on life years ago.

VINCENT:

(puffing a cigarette)

You didn’t eat?

CHARISSE:

I forgot.

VINCENT:

How do you forget to eat?

CHARISSE:

It happens.

Vincent returns his gaze to...the TV on top of his

dresser. An old Abbott & Costello movie is playing.

Charisse adjusts herself, continues grinding on Vincent.

Then...

VINCENT:

You want go to breakfast?

Sure.

INT. NAT’S DINER - LATER

A greasy spoon. Vincent and Charisse are in a booth

eating breakfast. Charisse is scarfing down Huevos

Rancheros, like she hasn’t eaten in days.

VINCENT:

I get reflux just looking at you.

2.

CHARISSE:

Can get a pill for that.

VINCENT:

Bastards have a pill for

everything. That’s a fact, lady.

Killing us all, ten milligrams at a

time.

Vincent sifts through his pill pouch. Pulls out a dozen

or so...the day’s dose.

VINCENT (CONT’D)

Where’s the water? Didn’t I ask

for water?

CHARISSE:

Ask ‘em again.

VINCENT:

Coming here twenty years, still

can’t get their sh*t together.

Calling off to a Mexican server (JESUS.)

VINCENT (CONT’D)

Jesus. Aqua. Pills.

Jesus smiles, nods.

CHARISSE:

I ain’t never takin’ me that many

pills.

VINCENT:

Just crack and meth. That’s a

better plan.

CHARISSE:

F*** you, Vin. Stay off my sh*t.

She reaches across the table for his toast.

CHARISSE (CONT’D)

You wan’ your toast.

Jesus returns with a glass of water. Lots of ice.

JESUS:

Here you go, Mr. Vincent.

VINCENT:

Can you put more ice in it? I want

to make sure I choke while I’m

swallowing my poison.

Jesus is confused.

CHARISSE:

He don’t wan’ no ice.

3.

JESUS:

Oh. Si.

VINCENT:

Yeah. Oh, si. Just like everyday

I come in here. Water no ice.

No one really knows what to say. They’ve heard it all

before. Daily.

JESUS:

Uno momento, Mr. Vincent.

Jesus walks off, nonplussed.

VINCENT:

Uno momento. That’s all they say

around here.

Vin takes a pill, swallows.

VINCENT (CONT’D)

What did Jesus say to the Mexicans

before he left?

CHARISSE:

Don’ know.

VINCENT:

Don’t do anything till I get back.

Charisse doesn’t laugh.

CHARISSE:

Talking for Jesus ain’t right.

VINCENT:

Really. From you?

Vin takes another pill. Swallows.

EXT. A BANK - DAY - LATER

Standard bank. Vin’s car’s parked outside. A Dodge

Duster in crap shape.

INT. THE BANK - CONTINUOUS

Vin’s sitting across from a mortgage counselor, TERRY.

He’s reviewing paperwork.

VINCENT:

(pointing)

That one there. Says the line’s

been frozen.

Terry shuffles.

4.

TERRY:

Uh-huh. Got it. Yes. Let’s

see...so...with these reverse

mortgages you can only borrow a

percentage of the equity you have

in the house. That’s called the

loan-to-value.

VINCENT:

Don’t need a financial seminar. I

own the damn thing outright. 40

years.

TERRY:

Yes. Yes. Well...you did. But

now, since you’ve been getting

monthly payments from us for the

last...

(searches the papers)

eight years...you’ve reached the

cash out limit. That’s that loan

to-value thing I just mentioned.

VINCENT:

The house is worth-

TERRY:

It was worth. Whatever it was

worth. And I’m sure you know

housing prices have fallen

dramatically since the financial

crisis. Right. Unless you’ve been

living under a rock.

His attempt at humor...not appreciated.

VINCENT:

You do stand-up?

Vin rises.

VINCENT (CONT’D)

This is my life here, pal. I need

that money.

TERRY:

I’m sorry, Mr. Canatella. There’s

really nothing I can do. It is

what it is.

VINCENT:

Everybody’s says that now. You

know what it means, “You’re f***ed,

so stay f***ed.”

He walks off.

5.

VINCENT (CONT’D)

I’m closing my accounts forthwith.

You don’t get my business another

day.

THE TELLER LINE - MOMENTS LATER

Vin waits in line, steaming. Ding. An electronic arrow

points him to TELLER WINDOW #23.

TELLER WINDOW #23 - CONTINUOUS

Vin hands TELLER #23 his ATM card.

VINCENT:

I want to close this account.

TELLER #23

I’m sorry to hear that, sir. May I

ask why?

VINCENT:

Lady. I don’t want to tell you to

go f*** yourself. You’re just a

spoke on a wheel, trying to make a

living like the rest of us

schmucks. Let’s just leave it at

that.

TELLER #23

Okay.

Tap, tap, tap on the keyboard.

TELLER #23 (CONT’D)

That’s one hundred twelve dollars

and fourteen cents.

VINCENT:

Small bills.

TELLER #23

No, sir...you’re overdrawn that

much.

VINCENT:

What’s that mean?

TELLER #23

It means you don’t-

VINCENT:

I know what overdrawn means.

TELLER #23

We’ve sent several notices.

6.

VINCENT:

So. I can’t close my account.

TELLER #23

You can, when you get it back to

zero.

Vin takes his card. What’s to say.

INT. VIN’S CAR - CONTINUOUS

Vin labors into the car. Charisse is waiting in the

passenger seat. He hands her a few crumpled bills.

CHARISSE:

What’s that?

VINCENT:

What’s what?

CHARISSE:

This sh*t ain’t lay-a-way. I ain’t

no JC Pennies.

VINCENT:

I’m a little tight right now. You

know I’m good for it.

Charisse looks him over.

CHARISSE:

I’m not making like I used to Vin.

Only a few freaks like the belly,

awlright.

She gets out of the car.

CHARISSE (CONT’D)

Gotta save for maternity leave,

a**hole.

She heads off down the sidewalk.

VINCENT:

See you next week.

CHARISSE:

Extra twenty when you do.

Charisse moves on, bag in hand, adjusting her junk. Vin

drives off. A few NEIGHBORHOOD MEN whistle at Charisse.

She heads over to them.

EXT. THE BUCK - NIGHT

The local dive bar. SMOKERS outside litter the sidewalk.

The windows are painted with “Happy New Year” greetings.

7.

INT. THE BUCK - CONTINUOUS

Old neon. Older PATRONS. Vin sits at the bar next to

LINDA and GUS, a weathered married couple in their late

60s. They’re dressed to the nines. The hanging TV set

plays New Year’s Eve coverage from around the country.

They’re all fairly lit...although Vin’s in a class by

himself. Very thick tongued.

LINDA:

You have a good Christmas, Vin?

VINCENT:

(slurring)

Best Christmas I ever had. No

people. No presents. No bullshit.

Just celebrating the birth of the

baby Jesus.

Tips his tumbler to heaven.

LINDA:

Ah, you don’t mean that, Mister.

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