The Pianist Page #21

In niches, neatly stacked: rifles, pistols, grenades,

ammunition

Szpilman stares, expressionless.

EXT. TRAM STOP, WARSAW STREET - AFTERNOON

Szpilman and Gebczynski wait with others at the stop as

the tram trundles towards them and comes to a halt.

As they board:

GEBCZYNSKI:

(quietly, to Szpilman)

Go as near to the front as possible,

to the German section.

INT. TRAM (TRAVELLING) - AFTERNOON

Gebczynski and Szpilman apprehensive, push through the

rear section, packed with Poles, seated and standing, until

they reach a chain and a sign:

GERMANS ONLY:

In the German section, only three or four passengers. Some

read newspapers, others stare into space or out of the

windows, but never looking at the Poles.

Szpilman tries to appear as inconspicuous as possible. The

tram rumbles on its way.

INT. 1ST APARTMENT, 4TH FLOOR LANDING AND DOOR - AFTERNOON

Gebczynski and Szpilman come up the stairs to the landing

and to a door. Gebczynski unlocks the door and they go in.

INT./EXT. 1ST APARTMENT, 4TH FLOOR, AND GHETTO - AFTERNOON

A charmingly furnished bed-sitting room with a comfortable

divan. Gebczynski leads the way in. Szpilman glances around,

goes to the window, looks out.

SZPILMAN'S POV:

He can see a section of ghetto wall below. Beyond it, inside

the ghetto, a narrow street leading to deserted buildings.

Gebczynski comes up behind him.

GEBCZYNSKI:

Must feel better this side of the

wall.

SZPILMAN:

Yes, but sometimes I'm still not

sure which side of the wall I'm

on.

GEBCZYNSKI:

Here.

He leads Szpilman to the small kitchen.

Gebczynski opens a cupboard to reveal potatoes, bread.

GEBCZYNSKI:

I'll come again. And Janina Bogucki

will visit twice a week. Bring

more food. See how you are.

He closes the cupboard.

THE MAIN ROOM.

Gebczynski makes for the front door, stops.

GEBCZYNSKI:

Yes, now, this is very important.

In case of emergency, I mean

emergency, go to this address.

He hands over a scrap of paper, shakes Szpilman's hand and

goes quickly.

Alone, Szpilman stands, lost for a moment. Then, he takes

off his shoe and stuffs the scrap of paper into it. While

he does so, his eyes light on the divan bed.

He goes to it, slips off his other shoe and lies down,

testing the divan's springiness with his whole body.

He smiles beatifically. He shuts his eyes and is instantly

asleep.

INT./EXT. 1ST APARTMENT - DAY

Szpilman still fast asleep. Voices wake him. He opens his

eyes. He's not certain where he is for a moment.

He hears the voices again, coming from the adjoining flat.

Intrigued, he rises, goes closer to the watt, puts his ear

against it, listens. After a brief silence:

KITTEN'S VOICE

(angry)

Puppydog, what d'you mean, you

forgot?

PUPPYDOG'S VOICE

What d'you think I mean, Kitten? I

forgot, that's what I mean.

KITTEN'S VOICE

You know what? You treat me like

dirt!

PUPPYDOG'S VOICE

I treat you like dirt because you

are dirt.

KITTEN'S VOICE

Pig!

PUPPYDOG'S VOICE

Cow!

KITTEN'S VOICE

Pig!

PUPPYDOG'S VOICE

B*tch!

KITTEN'S VOICE

Dirty pig!

PUPPYDOG'S VOICE

You're a dirty pig!

KITTEN'S VOICE

Takes one to know one! Pig!

Silence. Szpilman is enjoying himself.

Then the sound of a piano being played with great feeling

but a lot of wrong notes.

PUPPYDOG'S VOICE

You play like an angel, Kitten.

The piano continues for a moment, but suddenly stops:

KITTEN'S VOICE

If I play like an angel, why don't

you listen?

PUPPYDOG'S VOICE

I was listening, Kitten.

KITTEN'S VOICE

Liar, you fell asleep. Pig!

A door slams.

PUPPYDOG'S VOICE

(wheedling)

Kitten, let me in.

Silence. Szpilman smiles but then hears the sound of rifle

shots and a huge explosion.

He crosses quickly to the window, looks out.

SZPILMAN'S POV - THE GHETTO.

Deserted. Stillness. Silence. From the ghetto smoke drifting

slowly.

INT./EXT. 1ST APARTMENT - EARLY MORNING

Szpilman asleep on the divan. The roar of motor car and

motorcycle engines. Sporadic firing.

He wakes, rushes to the window.

SZPILMAN'S POV:

A German personnel carrier, an open car carrying officers,

and a motorcycle and sidecar roar down the narrow street

below towards the buildings at the far end. German soldiers

follow behind on the trot, pulling a field gun.

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