The Fisher King Page #7

Synopsis: After shock jock Jack Lucas (Jeff Bridges) inadvertently provokes a caller into murdering a group of innocent people in a Manhattan bar, he grows depressed and turns to booze. As he's about to hit rock bottom, Lucas meets a homeless man named Parry (Robin Williams), whose wife was killed by the caller Lucas pushed to the brink. Mentally scarred by his loss, Parry spends his days searching for the Holy Grail. Lucas, feeling culpable for the poor man's plight, pledges to help him in his quest.
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Fantasy
Production: TriStar Pictures
  Won 1 Oscar. Another 13 wins & 34 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.6
Metacritic:
61
Rotten Tomatoes:
83%
R
Year:
1991
138 min
2,138 Views


From his overcoat, PARRY pulls out a long tube sock tied at the

end and filled with a softball at the bottom...

....That there are only two things in

this world ya need...

HE begins to swing the sock over his head - centrifugally

gaining force.

...Respect for all kinds of life,

because that's what's right - and

the love of one other person who

you can trust and pork on a regular basis.

PARRY releases the "weapon".

CUT TO:

LEATHER and WINDBREAKER - As the sock flies out of the darkness

and, with amazing accuracy - beans LEATHER on the forehead

between his eyes. HE drops his knife to rub his head.

LEATHER:

(sinking out of camera)

Ow...Ow....OW!

WINDBREAKER grows worried as PARRY reaches in to the lining

of his coat, pulls out another "sock weapon" and starts swinging.

PARRY:

However, the ability to bean

a shithead can be a fabulous advantage.

WINDBREAKER runs away. The BUM with the shopping cart YELLS at him

as he bolts by. PARRY crosses to a speechless JACK.

PARRY:

(picking up LEATHER'S knife)

Are you all right?

LEATHER:

(kneeling, rubbing his head)

OWW...MAN...

JACK:

(disoriented)

Uh...should we call the police?

PARRY:

Nah. This is our fight. I think it would

be nice if we tied him up though...If I had

time I'd give him a bad haircut..

HE kneels down, pulls out some rope from his coat and proceeds

to tie LEATHER to a bench as he converses matter-of-factly...

PARRY:

(hands JACK the LEATHER'S knife)

Here, would you take care of this.

JACK, sickened by the sight of it, throws it in the river.

JACK:

I need a drink.

Pulls his pockets out to find no money.

PARRY:

I know a great place.

(puts his arm on his shoulder)

Drinks are on me!

O.C. THE BUMS cheer.

CUT TO:

INT. HALLWAY OF ANNE'S APARTMENT BUILDING - NIGHT.

ANNE walks down the hall to a neighbor's apartment and knocks.

AN ETHNIC MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN in a bathrobe opens the door.

WOMAN:

Yeah darling.

ANNE:

(hesitant to ask)

I'm sorry to bother you but...

uh...

(decides to go for it)

I heard from somewhere your

husband drank?

WOMAN:

(calmly, openly)

Oh, yeah. He was a big drunk.

ANNE:

Well...the thing is, see -

(vulnerable and worried)

My fella's not home...things

haven't been going his way lately

...Ya know how it is...and I was

wondering -when he drank, your

husband, was there anyplace in

particular he went...a cheap bar

in the neighborhood...

WOMAN:

Who knew. When he left this

apartment it was no longer my

problem. When he came back, it

was my problem.

ANNE sighs. THE WOMAN understands ANNE'S problem all too

clearly.

WOMAN:

...Let me tell you something, my

darling. And I'm telling you

cause when you started talking,

I got a feeling right here...

(presses her sternum)

...before your heart breaks like

mine...get rid of this man.

ANNE smiles. SHE obviously can't.

ANNE:

Thank you.

CUT TO:

EXT. GREAT JONES ALLEY - NIGHT.

JACK and PARRY sit on the sidewalk facing the three bums from

the previous scene - A BLACK, A MIDDLE-AGED IRISHMAN and AN

EX-HIPPIE. The trio sit against the alley wall, discussing the

issues of the day as they pass a bottle of THUNDERBIRD.

BLACK:

Death penalty's just another

violation of my constitutional

right to satisfaction.

IRISHMAN:

I hate that.

HIPPIE:

So, you mean if somebody like,

killed your mother, you wouldn't

want him dead?

BLACK:

Sure I would. But I should get

to kill him.

IRISHMAN:

(explaining further)

He gets to kill him. That's

democracy, see.

A LULL takes over as they all consider this.

CUT TO:

C.U.:
JACK sitting the furthest apart from the group - holding

the bottle, HE mumbles to himself.

JACK:

This is it. I'm in hell. I've

been damned to an eternity of

idiotic conversation.

HE puts the bottle to his lips and:

FROM JACK'S POV, WE FADE OUT OF THE SCENE ON THE NEXT LINES - AS

EYES AND SLIPS INTO A DRUNKEN SLUMBER.

HIPPIE:

You were great tonight, Parry.

(affirmations from the

other two)

Superbum, man! F***ing Marvel

Comics...

THE BUMS CHEER....FADE OUT.

FADE-UP ON:

INT. PARRY'S BASEMENT HIDEAWAY - MORNING.

JACK is asleep on a mattress beside a boiler. HE slowly awakens

- the first dull pangs of a mean hangover making itself known.

HE opens his eyes, confused - not knowing exactly what happened.

CUT TO:

THE GIANT FACE OF PARRY, sitting upright beside him.

PARRY:

How are you feeling?

JACK nods, suspiciously. HE notice the basement surroundings -

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Richard LaGravenese

Richard LaGravenese (born October 30, 1959) is an American screenwriter and film director, best known as the writer of The Fisher King. more…

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