The Public Eye Page #17

INT. DINING ROOM

Spoleto's men are arrayed (weapons aimed) on either side of

the table, i.e., looking across the table, not toward the

kitchen and not toward the street.

As Farinelli's men stand, ostensibly obedient, some dive,

some upend furniture for cover, others go for their weapons.

One races for the front door.

Spoleto's Men open fire, even as Bernzy rushes to the edge

of the dining room, already taking his first shot.

[N.B.:
The sudden, brutish violence of the scene has the

paradoxical effect of making it feel longer, in the

inexplicable way a car wreck seems prolonged for the drivers.

A series of inter-locking cuts -- hand on gun, shells on

floor, splattering of tablecloth, flare from gun, hand on

camera, etc. -- extenuates time like a slowed-down nightmare

in which the dreamer tries to flee something menacing.]

Bernzy kneels behind the table set against the wall outside

next to the hallway -- the one he moved earlier.

Bernzy kicks the time-release camera: it slides out toward

the side wall, aimed upward at the killers and ticking down.

The scene is sensational, nearly surreal, with bright lights

flaring in every direction... spent shells bouncing off the

ground... food, wine and blood spattering onto the white

table-cloths.

Bernzy stands for his second shot as The Assassin opens fire

on Farinelli's bodyguard, who has managed to pull his gun.

Then he spots Bernzy. Bernzy's camera is aimed at the Assassin

even as the Assassin turns to kill him. Brazenly, Bernzy

continues to shoot.

Through Bernzy's viewfinder, we see what he's seeing: his

own murder.

Just before the Assassin pulls the trigger, one of Farinelli's

Men, who has managed to pull his gun, shoots him.

Bernzy, seemingly impervious (or possessed) is already

advancing the film.

Bernzy is only partly hidden by the table and its overhanging

cloth:
his feet show, he must stand half-erect every time he

takes a picture. We feel is protected not by the table as

much as by his single-mindedness: he is an appendage of the

camera.

A bullet tears into the lip or leg of the table Bernzy uses

for cover. There is a violent shudder. He is not sure, and

we are not sure, if he has been hit by a bullet, or stung by

the table itself. He just keeps shooting pictures.

By now there is a horrible litter of wood, cloth, food, blood

and corpses on the floor.

ON the time-release camera, next to a corpse: it is stuck,

at five seconds, as it was at Bernzy's apartment.

The Lead Assassin gives the signal. The shooting ends as

abruptly as it began. Farinelli and all his men are dead.

They leave by the front door. But the last Gunman to leave

looks curiously over his shoulder, as if he thinks he saw

something. Then he hurries off, to catch up with the others.

EXT. STREET

The Assassins' car is parked in the street. The last Gunman

approaches it but still seems dissatisfied. Sirens are heard,

growing closer.

INT. DINING ROOM

Bernzy rises unsteadily to his feet. He winces, but whether

he is wounded, or merely reacting to the devastation around

him, we still don't know. He c*cks his ear as he judges how

far off the sirens are, i.e., how much time does he have.

He begins to take pictures of the massacre's aftermath.

Hearing someone crunch over glass, he looks up.

The curious Gunman has returned. As the sirens draw nearer,

the Gunman raises a pistol.

A distinctive noise is heard from the side of the room: ki-

ki-ki-ki-ki-click.

The Gunman swings around, thinking it is one of Farinelli's

men, wounded but not dead. As he fires into a corpse --

Bernzy makes a run for the back hallway.

The Gunman whirls around again, to fire at Bernzy, but

Bernzy's gone.

As the sirens draw very close now, the Gunman flees by the

front door.

EXT. STREET

A police car rounds the corner --

EXT. STREET

Low Angle, on the running board of the getaway car, as the

curious gunman jumps into the car, even as it squeals away.

STREET:

The police car screeches to a stop in front of d'Angelo's.

INT. DINING ROOM

Bernzy has re-entered. He kneels down to get the time-release

camera. We see a GUN aimed at him, at the end of an arm.

VOICE (O.S.)

Hold it!

Bernzy looks up. It's O'Brien, the cop.

O'Brien puts down the gun when he sees Bernzy's face.

O'BRIEN

Jesus, Bernzy.

(he looks around the

room; he's horrified)

What the hell is this?

Bernzy snatches up his camera, starts to move toward the

back exit.

O'BRIEN

Where you goin'? What the hell's

goin' on here?

Berzny keeps moving, then turns and runs.

CUT TO:

INT. NABLER'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Nabler, asleep by the radio (which plays an opera), is aroused

by somebody pressing his doorbuzzer, frantically.

INT. HALLWAY

Nabler opens the door.

BERNZY:

C'mon, Arty. Now.

CUT TO:

INT. ELEVATOR - NABLER'S BLDG.

Bernzy and Nabler ride down. Nabler's pulling on his coat.

Bernzy is unloading the time-release camera, shielding it

from the light within the ample folds of his oversized jacket.

NABLER:

What if Spoleto finds you?

BERNZY:

He's finished the second you get

these to the papers.

He caps the film in a can and gives it to Nabler.

BERNZY:

I'll get arrested first, with any

luck.

Now Bernzy reachs into his pants pocket to get out a roll of

film already in a can. When he does so, his coat swings open.

NABLER:

Jesus, Bernzy:
You're bleeding.

Indeed, a spreading stain of blood soaks Bernzy's shirt on

the right side of his torso.

Bernzy presses the roll of film on Nabler.

BERNZY:

Take those to the Mirror, The Post,

The Telegraph, The News, Life Magazine --

NABLER:

I know the routine.

CUT TO:

EXT. NABLER'S BLDG. - NIGHT

As Bernzy and Nabler come out of the building they see Two

police cars -- one astride and one nose-to-nose with Bernzy's

sedan. The Policemen are on the street.

The eldest of them approaches Bernzy, gently pulls Bernzy's

hands behind his back, and cuffs him: like every other cop

in New York, he knows Bernzy.

POLICEMAN:

Sorry, Bernzy.

He is led toward a police car.

NABLER:

F'r God's sakes, he's bleeding!

BERNZY:

(as he disappears

into the squad car)

Go, Arty. Now!

Nabler hails a cab.

CUT TO:

EXT. FEDERAL BLDG. (CHURCH STREET) - NIGHT

Bernzy is led up the steep stairs.

INT. FBI CONFERENCE ROOM - LATER

Bernzy sits at a table in a large conference room. The table

is packed with law enforcement personnel, mostly in suits.

Some of them we recognize: Chadwick, the FBI agent; Chadwick's

superior, the Older Agent; Conklin, the homicide detective.

Various men are smoking and various ashtrays are filled.

Somebody's yawning. Time has passed.

CHADWICK:

(to a D.A.)

Read him the statues about with-

holding evidence again.

Bernzy is beginning to look weak.

BERNZY:

I told you, I had no evidence.

CHADWICK:

Then how'd you happen to be there?

BERNZY:

How am I anywhere? I'm psychic.

One of the Cops smiles.

The Older agent, seeing it, is incensed.

OLDER AGENT:

You're out of your league here, Mr.

Bernstein. The police may take this

lightly but I'll be goddamned if the

Bureau's gonna let a picture peddler

create a scandal in the O.P.A. that's

gonna undermine morale and hurt the

war effort.

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