Whiplash Page #15

Andrew, thinking fast, eyes the fallen stick. Trying as hard as

he can to keep that tempo going with his right hand, he slides

down the left side of his body, stretching his arm as far as it

can go... His broken finger grazing the stick... Grabbing hold...

Pulls up -- and -- another CRAAAAAACK as his finger is caught

against the hi-hat pedal and the bone is bent 90 degrees. He

GASPS, almost cries out in pain. Has to hold it in.

Pulls himself back up to the set -- and there, looming over him

already, is Fletcher. Eyes fiery-

FLETCHER:

The f*** are you doing...???

Andrew keeps playing. But the PAIN is harder and harder to

ignore. His snare drum completely smeared in red now, his

stick stained, his whole arm shaking. And that RINGING -- just

growing and growing, drowning out everything else...

He looks at the SHEET MUSIC, suddenly lost... The horns blast

out a hit -- but Andrew isn’t on it. F***. Launches into another

fill -- and hits the crash at the wrong time.

Fletcher stares at him. The look says it all: it’s over. But

Andrew keeps fighting. Another missed hit, then a missed time-

signature change, the beat falling apart beneath his feet. Total

chaos, and then, finally, the sign of death --Andrew STOPS.

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Almost immediately, the rest of the band grinds to a halt. It’s

a horrible sound, like a car screeching, nails on a chalkboard.

Fletcher stands in place, eyes on Andrew. In fact, all eyes are

on Andrew. The theater is dead-silent. Disbelief everywhere.

Calmly, Fletcher approaches Andrew and whispers one last thing:

FLETCHER (CONT’D)

You’re done.

Then he turns around. Andrew start shaking, his eyes brimming

-- and, suddenly, something takes over inside. Almost despite

himself, he RISES -- and KICKS OVER THE DRUMS.

Cymbals CRASH to the wooden stage-floor like bombs. Andrew

CHARGES forward -- and, just as Fletcher turns to him, TACKLES

the man to the ground...

Andrew goes absolutely batshit crazy on Fletcher, murder in his

eyes... Raises his fists, about to POUND into Fletcher’s face,

when SECURITY GUARDS yank him off, pulling him away in a flash...

Torn from his target, Andrew breaks down into TEARS. Everything

inside him spilling out like water. Fletcher, stunned but

uninjured, gets back on his feet. His shirt drips with blood --

not his own, but Andrew’s. A SECURITY GUARD rushes onto the

scene, and Andrew, kicking and screaming, is DRAGGED OFF...

We linger inside the theater. A hush over the audience, the

players and their instruments. And then, a card:

Final Competition of the Winter Season

OMITTED 75

OMITTED 76

INT. ANDREW’S DORMITORY - DAY 78

Andrew stands alone in his dorm. Staring into space. Abandage on his hand. Time has passed...

Lets his eyes take in one item at a time: A drum pad on the

floor. A metronome. A DISMISSAL LETTER... He’s been expelled

from Shaffer.

A DVD. He slides that into his laptop, sits down slowly...

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A HOME VIDEO begins: a smiling EIGHT-YEAR-OLD BOY at a

DRUM... It’s ANDREW... Innocent, bright-eyed, having a

blast...

EIGHT-YEAR-OLD ANDREW

...and this is my pa-ra-did-dle...

He plays a paradiddle on the drum: left-right-left-left.

A CHEER off-camera, a voice we recognize -- his father,

JIM-

JIM (O.S.)

Woooo-hoooo!!!

EIGHT-YEAR-OLD ANDREW glows. And our Andrew, hurting,

tearing up, watches...

Pulls the DVD out. SNAPS it in half. Tosses the halves in

the trash. Slides the drum pad and metronome into the

trash as well. Ties the trash bag and pulls it out.

83 INT. ANDREW’S PRACTICE ROOM - DAY 83

Andrew busts in, starts breaking his drums down. First

the cymbals come off, then the pedals, then the toms...

A look of resolution on his face -- and, bubbling up,

anger... He tears at the drums as though attacking them,

pulls them apart almost viciously, one part after another...

Then the Buddy Rich POSTER --which he rips to shreds...

84 INT. HALLWAY - ANDREW’S PRACTICE ROOM - MOMENTS LATER 84

Andrew THROWS trash bags into a garbage can... Heads back

and eyes his PRACTICE ROOM --now empty. He takes a moment.

Sits down on the hallway floor, the drum parts stacked to

the side. Leans back, closes his eyes, and takes a deep

breath out...

It’s done.

He pulls out his cell. A beat. Then--

ANDREW:

Ok... Where do you want me to meet you?

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OMITTED:

77A

INT. HOTEL LOBBY - BAR - LATER THAT DAY 77A

RACHEL BORNHOLDT -- lawyer, elegantly dressed -- sits across

from Andrew, Jim to the side. There’s a glass of white wine for

Jim, a club soda for Rachel, and an untouched water for Andrew.

A moment of silence. Finally--

RACHEL BORNHOLDT

Andrew...?

Andrew remains silent for a moment. Then--

ANDREW:

When did you contact my dad?

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JIM:

They just called me this week, Andr--

RACHEL BORNHOLDT

(interrupting)

Does the name Sean Casey mean anything to you?

Andrew looks back at Rachel. A moment. Warily, he nods.

RACHEL BORNHOLDT (CONT’D)

So you know of his death? Last month he

hung himself in his apartment.

Andrew takes this in. Fletcher had said it was a car accident...

ANDREW:

What does that have to do with me?

RACHEL BORNHOLDT

Sean suffered from anxiety and depression.

His mother claims this started during his

time as Fletcher’s student.

Andrew looks at her. Rachel can tell he’s surprised.

A moment passes.

RACHEL BORNHOLDT (CONT’D)

Now, the Caseys aren’t wealthy. They

don’t want to file suit.

ANDREW:

Then what do they want?

RACHEL BORNHOLDT

To make sure Terence Fletcher is never

allowed to do this to another student.

ANDREW:

He didn’t do anything.

RACHEL BORNHOLDT

So President Kohn and Dean Pence will tell

you. To them, Fletcher is Shaffer.

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RACHEL BORNHOLDT (CONT'D)

But if they think we have a case like this

and can win in court, they’ll have no

choice but to let him go before we do.

Beat. Andrew looks at her. Then at his dad.

ANDREW:

Well, I have nothing to say.

Jim leans forward now, taking the initiative--

JIM:

Andrew... It’s over, ok...? He’s out of

your life. Why let him get away with what

he did to you?

He eyes Rachel. Ok...? Was that the right thing to say...?

Andrew stays silent.

RACHEL BORNHOLDT

Would you characterize his conduct as

extreme, Andrew? Did he ever intentionally

inflict emotional distress?

Still Andrew doesn’t respond. Feels his dad’s stare on

him as well now.

RACHEL BORNHOLDT (CONT’D)

(trying to persuade--)

This would not be a public hearing, you

know... Fletcher would never know it was

you who spoke up.

Andrew looks at the glass of water in front of him. Untouched.

ANDREW:

...What would happen to him?

RACHEL BORNHOLDT

Shaffer will do anything to prevent this

from going to court. Yours won’t be the

first complaint, but I think it’ll tip

the balance. You’re recent.

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