The Lost Weekend Page #9

B-9 THE STAGE

The set is a Louis XIVth salon, in the year 1700. It's

Violetta's supper. The guests are singing "Libiamo, libiamo,"

which is a drinking song in waltz time.

B-10 DON

He loves music and especially Italian opera, but maybe he'd

have come late if he'd remembered the content of the first

scene.

B-11 ON THE STAGE

Powdered footmen are pouring wine into the glasses of the

over-vivacious guests.

B-12 DON

Thirst in his eyes, he looks away from the stage, tries to

concentrate on the ceiling of the Metropolitan. No go. His

eyes wander back to:

B-13 THE STAGE

Alfred and Violetta are batting the drinking song back and

forth, as the chorus, glasses in hand, stands slowly swaying,

echoing each couplet.

B-14 DON

That thirst is coming up again. The first drops of sweat are

gathering on his forehead. As he looks at the stage, his

imagination is working at top speed.

B-15 STAGE

The swaying echelon of choristers SLOWLY DISSOLVES to a row

of raincoats, exactly like the one Don wore. They hang from

hangers and sway slowly to Verdi's rhythm.

B-16 DON'S FACE

His eyes glued to what he sees on the stage. He takes the

handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his forehead.

B-17 THE STAGE

The raincoats swaying slowly. THE CAMERA APPROACHES one of

them. From the pocket projects a bottle of whiskey.

B-18 DON

He is wiping his parched mouth. He puts the handkerchief

back. He fishes the coat check from his pocket, buries it in

his fist, fighting the foolish impulse. It's a short struggle,

which he loses. He rises and, to the irritation of his

neighbors, leaves his seat amid some disapproving shushings

from the row behind.

DISSOLVE TO:

B-19 CLOAK ROOM AND VESTIBULE

It is completely empty save for the elderly attendant, who

is dozing over his paper. From inside comes Verdi's music

and Don Birnam. He puts the check on the counter. The

attendant looks up from a newspaper.

ATTENDANT:

Did you forget something?

DON:

No. Going home, if it's all right

with you.

The attendant takes the check and leaves. Don rolls his

program and sticks it into the sand of the cuspidor. He is

filled with a nervous anticipation of the drink which is on

its way. The attendant returns.

ATTENDANT:

Say, this isn't yours.

Don looks. The attendant holds a short leopard coat and a

lady's small umbrella.

DON:

No, it certainly isn't.

ATTENDANT:

(Comparing the check

with the number on

the hanger)

That's what it says though -- 417.

DON:

I don't care what it says.

ATTENDANT:

The checks must have got mixed up.

DON:

Maybe they did. Find me my coat.

It's a plain man's raincoat and a

derby.

ATTENDANT:

Are you kidding? Do you know how

many plain men's raincoats we have

on a day like this? About a thousand.

DON:

Let me get back there. I can find

it.

ATTENDANT:

That's against regulations, sir.

DON:

I'm not going to wait till the end

of the performance.

ATTENDANT:

You can get your coat tomorrow.

Don's nervousness is mounting. He is searching his pockets.

DON:

Look, man, there's something in the

pocket of that coat I -- It so happens

I find myself without any money and

I need that coat. And I need it now.

ATTENDANT:

Listen, if everybody went in there

digging through those coats... There's

regulations. There's got to be

regulations.

DON:

What do you suggest?

ATTENDANT:

You just wait till the other party

comes and then you can swap.

DON:

I want my coat.

ATTENDANT:

As far as I'm concerned, that's your

coat.

He shoves the leopard coat and umbrella close to Don.

DON:

You're a great help.

He is biting his lips, unable to find another argument. The

attendant has returned to the other end of the counter and

resumed his doze. Don gets out a cigarette. Without opening

his eyes, the attendant calls it.

ATTENDANT:

No smoking.

DON:

(Sourly)

I thought so.

He puts the cigarette away, leans back on the counter, arms

folded.

DISSOLVE TO:

B-20 VESITBULE, NEAR CLOAK ROOM

Empty, save for Don, who paces up and down nervously, carrying

the leopard coat and the umbrella. He glances over the coat

a little, at the initials inside, at the label. Over the

scene comes a muted aria from the second act.

DISSOLVE TO:

B-21 A STAIRCASE LEADING TO THE GALLERY

Empty, save for Don, who sits on a step, the coat next him.

With the umbrella he is nervously tracing the pattern in the

carpet. Inside, the music rises to a finale and the first

people start streaming down from the gallery. Don grabs up

the coat and hurries towards the cloak room.

B-22 VESTIBULE AND CLOAK ROOM

People are streaming up from all sides to get their

belongings. Don comes into the shot and, standing on his

toes, tries to locate the claimant of his coat and hat.

DISSOLVE TO:

B-23 VESTIBULE AND CLOAK ROOM

It is almost empty. Don still stands with the coat, looking.

As the last few people leave, at the far end of the counter

he sees Helen, in a little leopard hat, his coat over her

arm, his derby in her hand. She sees him with her coat and

her umbrella and the two approach slowly.

DON:

(Trying to control

his irritation)

That's my coat you've got.

HELEN:

And that's mine, thank heaven. They

mixed up the checks.

DON:

They certainly did. I thought you'd

never come.

He takes his coat rather brusquely, thrusts the leopard coat

at her.

HELEN:

You can't have been waiting so long.

DON:

Only since the first aria of the

first act. That's all.

HELEN:

Do you always just drop in for the

overture?

Don takes the coat, feels it hurriedly to make sure the bottle

is still there, and starts away.

DON:

Goodbye.

Helen is left with the leopard coat and his bowler.

HELEN:

(Waving the hat toward

Don)

Hey, wait a minute!

Don comes back, takes the hat, starts away again.

HELEN:

My umbrella, if you don't mind.

His patience exhausted, Don stops again, takes the umbrella

and tosses it in Helen's direction. Helen, who is getting

into her coat, can't catch it. It falls right next to her.

HELEN:

Thank you very much.

Don stands abashed. He goes back, picks up the umbrella.

DON:

I'm terribly sorry.

HELEN:

You're the rudest person I ever saw.

What's the matter with you?

DON:

Just rude, I guess.

HELEN:

Really, somebody should talk to your

mother.

DON:

They tried, Miss St. John.

HELEN:

My name's not St. John.

DON:

St. Joseph, then.

HELEN:

St. James.

DON:

First name Hilda or Helen, or Harriet

maybe?

HELEN:

Helen.

DON:

You come from Toledo, Ohio.

HELEN:

How do you know?

DON:

I've had three long acts to work you

out from that coat of yours. Initials,

label -- Alfred Spitzer, Fine Furs,

Toledo, Ohio.

HELEN:

Maybe I should have explored your

coat.

DON:

But you didn't.

HELEN:

Didn't have time.

DON:

Good. My name is Don Birnam.

As they go on talking, they walk from the cloak room, through

the vestibule, to the street, Don carrying his coat over his

arm.

Rate this script:4.0 / 1 vote