Whiplash Page #2

8 INT. GEHRING HALL - NASSAU BAND ROOM - DAY 8

The same room we saw Andrew practicing in at night -- only now

it’s full of musicians. Mostly male, mostly first- and second-

years. This is NASSAU BAND, one of Shaffer’s lower-level jazz

ensembles. Because it’s Shaffer, the players are still first-

rate. A few third-years are here, too -- including a red-head

drummer with the body of a linebacker. RYAN CONNOLLY.

Andrew looks up -- in time to see Ryan with a GIRL by the

doorway. Ryan’s girlfriend is gorgeous -- tall, all curves.

Ryan lets his hand slide down her shoulder. Andrew watches...

The GIRL waves bye to Ryan as he heads in. He’s all macho

confidence.

TRUMPETER:

My man Ry! Sh*t, how you feeling?

RYAN:

Stitched up at last, dude.

TRUMPETER:

Things were hurting with Neiman on the kit-

Ryan taps him to stop. Andrew is within earshot -- and has

heard. Beat. Ryan moves over to Andrew, sits down at the set.

RYAN:

You have a good weekend, bro?

ANDREW:

Yeah. Definitely. Really good.

RYAN:

Don’t worry about Greg. He’s a dick.

Andrew nods. Admires Ryan. Seems more diminutive now than ever.

RYAN (CONT’D)

You been practicing?

ANDREW:

Yeah. All the time.

RYAN:

My man.

Then -- the Nassau Band conductor appears: RON KRAMER.

MR. KRAMER

Morning, fellas. “Billie’s In”, bar 8.

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Mr. Kramer CLAPS OFF in time -- and the band begins playing

FIRST NASSAU BAND REHEARSAL CHART. Mid-tempo. Ryan’s

confident, in control. Andrew turns his pages, watches...

MR. KRAMER (CONT’D)

Nice, Ryan... Woah, trumpets.

TRUMPETER #2 **

Yeah, yeah - sorry about that one. **

MR. KRAMER **

Just brass again. **

To Ryan’s left, a whisper-- **

TRUMPETER:

Ry...

Ryan turns. Visible as a silhouette through the frosted glass

of the main door...is FLETCHER. Andrew turns and looks as

well. Tenses up.

Fletcher lingers outside. Then he walks on. Ryan turns back to

the Trumpeter.

RYAN:

Not today.

INT. GEHRING HALL - NASSAU BAND ROOM - MOMENTS LATER 9

Rehearsal has ended. The MUSICIANS have just filed out --

except for Andrew, who’s hanging back...

MR. KRAMER

Are you learning from Ryan?

ANDREW:

Yeah... He’s been great to me.

MR. KRAMER

Last week was a little overwhelming for you?

ANDREW:

(is that a question?)

Yeah...

(then, hesitant,)

I wonder...what you think about my progress?

MR. KRAMER

Your progress?

ANDREW:

I just... I’m...practicing hard and...

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MR. KRAMER

Andrew -- you’ve got a good attitude. You

always arrive on time.

Andrew nods. Waiting.

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MR. KRAMER (CONT’D)

Yeah. Ok?

ANDREW:

(beat)

Ok... Do you think... I know Fletcher’s

looking for players...for Studio Band...

MR. KRAMER

Yeah, Andrew... Lincoln Center looks out

for Fletcher’s top players. If it weren’t

for Ryan’s injury he’d have been in Studio

Band last year. He’s a natural player.

Andrew takes this in. Nods.

ANDREW:

Ok.

MR. KRAMER

(this is awkward)

Look... I’m going to be candid. 90% of

our players will never make it into the

Lincoln Centers or the Collectives. The

question is -- who’s in that 10%?

A beat.

MR. KRAMER (CONT’D)

So I’d practice. You could start a rock

band.

Andrew takes it in. The implication is clear.

He turns -- and glimpses a poster on the wall: a DRUMMER

throwing a stick in the air mid-solo. Buff. Confident. The

opposite of him.

ANDREW:

I...I have one more question...

(Kramer looks at him)

...Do you know what the process for

transferring is?

10

11

11A

12

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10

OMITTED 10

INT. GEHRING HALL - BASEMENT HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

11

Andrew walks down a hallway. A piece of paper in his hand.

It’s a TRANSFER APPLICATION...

He notices as two attractive female students pass him. **

STUDENT #1 **

At least you didn’t embarrass yourself

like what’s-his-face.

**

**

STUDENT #2 **

That was truly pathetic. **

As he continues walking, he hears music. Stops. Approaches. **

Looks.

INT. GEHRING HALL - STUDIO BAND ROOM - CONTINUOUS 11A

Through the pane of glass, Andrew can see a FULL ORCHESTRA.

Everyone looks older than in Nassau. More focused. All eyes

glued on Fletcher as he assumes his position...

Fletcher’s right arm moves, just a hair, and the band starts:

fast, dazzling. Andrew watches --in awe. The band’s playing

STUDIO BAND EAVESDROP CHART, and the sound is so full, so

precise, so commanding. Nothing like Nassau.

And suddenly -- Fletcher TURNS AROUND. His eyes meet Andrew’s.

Andrew ducks out of view --sh*t -

-- and hurries away.

INT. ANDREW’S PRACTICE ROOM - A FEW HOURS LATER 12

Andrew practices like mad, trying to nail a double-time swing.

To his left a digital METRONOME blinks. The time set: 380.

Andrew stops. Resets the metronome. 390. Resumes playing.

Tries to keep up. Resets the metronome to 400. Can’t keep up

at all now. Struggling, sweating, hands blistering, when --

CRAAACK. Andrew’s right drumstick SNAPS IN HALF.

He stops. Spent. Looks at his hand, sweating and throbbing from

the blisters.

Looks back at the metronome. Still beeping away. He turns it off.

Glances up ahead at a poster -- of BUDDY RICH hunched over a drum

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kit, mid-solo -- tacked to the wall.

Stares at the image. Then looks down -- at the PAPERWORK we

saw earlier. The heading: “APPLICATION TO TRANSFER”...

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11

12A INT. ANDREW’S PRACTICE ROOM - MOMENTS LATER 12A

A CD slides into a player. The title: “BUDDY RICH: BIRDLAND”.

Andrew skips ahead to the third track. Immediately, drums

start. Another double-time swing. Only this one is insanely

fast. Even faster than Andrew was going.

Andrew listens. Looks at his drum kit. Thinks. Makes a decision.

Turns the CD off.

INT. MOVIE THEATER - LOBBY - AFTERNOON 13

The same movie theater as before. Andrew marches in. Has one

goal and one goal only now.

Walks up to Nicole at the counter. Takes a deep breath, and-

ANDREW:

Hey -- look -- I -- I don’t know how to

say this -- I see you in here all the

time and -- I was just wondering --

(stops, collects himself,)

-- if you’d want to get a bite to eat

with me.

Beat. Nicole just looks at him. Andrew can’t believe he said what

he just said. Feels like a creep. Instantly regrets it.

NICOLE:

Please get away from me.

ANDREW:

I’m so sorry, I -- I didn’t mea--

NICOLE:

I’m kidding.

She smiles. Beat. Andrew manages a nervous laugh.

NICOLE (CONT’D)

That your dad you always come in with?

ANDREW:

(discombobulated, trying to keep up--)

Kind of bobs up and down when he walks?

That’s him.

NICOLE:

(laughs; then,)

Andrew, right? I’m Nicole.

ANDREW:

Nice to meet you, Nicole...

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12

NICOLE:

Monday I get off at seven.

ANDREW:

Monday. Ok. Great. I’ll be here Monday.

A moment -- an awkward silence -- then Andrew turns -- and,

in a daze, realizing what’s just happened, his spirits

suddenly starting to soar -- he glides off.

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