Youth Page #18

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MICK BOYLE:

No. He doesn’t say anything on his

deathbed.

Silence on the part of the screenwriters. They’re waiting.

MICK BOYLE (CONT’D)

She’s the one who talks. Brenda.

She says, “I lost so much time

because of you, Michael. I lost the

best years of my life.”

Silence. Then the shy screenwriter.

SHY SCREENWRITER

He’s lying on his deathbed, and she

slaps him, just like that.

An icy stare from Mick and the others. The shy screenwriter

tries to make eat his words.

SHY SCREENWRITER (CONT’D)

I was just kidding!

51. INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR. NIGHT

Kozelek’s sweet music follows us here, in the stillness of

the hallway of this mountain hotel. The group of people who

recently checked in are coming toward us, wheeling their

metal racks and cumbersome metal suitcases.

The group passes a room, the door slightly ajar, without even

noticing it.

But the camera notices and peeks inside. On the bed sits a

elderly, bare-chested man, exhausted and sweaty. He stares at

the floor and drinks a glass of water. The unattractive,

plump hooker is putting on her overcoat. She exits the room

and makes her way awkwardly and gracelessly to the elevator.

52. INT. PANORAMA HALL. NIGHT

The Ipod again, Mark Kozelek’s music again, diegetic now.

A man gently combs Jimmy’s hair and pulls it back, as Jimmy

looks at himself in the mirror, a serious expression on his

face. One of those dressing room mirrors, with all those

little lights around it.

81.

The hairdresser uses a razor to layer the hair on the back of

Jimmy’s head. He cuts it really short. A tense, somber mood.

The other members of the group are watching Jimmy and his

hairdresser.

Then, with a quick, expert move, the hairdresser moves a lock

of Jimmy’s hair to the right.

He sticks his fingers in a jar of brilliantine.

A middle-aged woman carefully unzips one of the garment bags

and we get a glimpse of a green outfit.

53. EXT. HOTEL POOL. DAWN

Kozelek’s music swells slightly, moving us even more.

The lights in the pool are on, creating a marvelous blue

glow.

We see Jimmy Tree from the back, his hair quite short. He’s

slowly doing the breaststroke. He gets out, his movements

tired, limited, like an old man’s. He drys himself off and

starts getting dressed. We still haven’t seen his face.

In the distance, behind the mountains, dawn is breaking.

Kozelek's music vanishes.

54. EXT. HOTEL GARDEN. DAY

Adolf Hitler, in military uniform, is attempting to strut

across the garden, beneath a long canopy. He manages in part

thanks to the briarwood cane. His steps are short, uncertain:

in other words, an older Hitler, in his sixties, full of

aches and pains.

He marches past the camera. It’s not Hitler, it’s Jimmy Tree,

in a perfect character reconstruction.

He walks slowly, almost prudently, but with an austere,

dictatorial demeanor that erases the distinction between

Jimmy’s character and the real Hitler. He looks around, but

no one’s there.

Then, all of a sudden, Hitler stops. He puts his palm on his

forehead to smooth down his hair, just as Mick Boyle does all

the time, and then, with a certain pomposity, gives the Nazi

salute.

He has saluted Frances, the pale thirteen-year-old girl who

stands before him. Jimmy keeps his arm raised, waiting for a

reaction. She merely looks calmly at him and smiles, not in

the least frightened by this unusual performance.

82.

55. INT. COVERED POOL. DAY

Mick Boyle is lying on a chaise lounge near the pool, wrapped

in a robe.

Lena swims languidly, without much effort.

Other than Mick and Lena, there’s no one there.

MICK BOYLE:

I’ve never told you how sorry I am

about how things ended between you

and Julian.

Lena stops near the edge of the pool.

MICK BOYLE (CONT’D)

I mean, I want to apologize for his

behavior.

LENA:

“Apologize?” What do you have to do

with it?

MICK BOYLE:

Let's face it, as a father, I could

have done more.

LENA:

Julian did what he wanted to,

without worrying about the

consequences. He picked up the

scent. I'm starting to smell it as

well.

MICK BOYLE:

What scent?

LENA:

(smiling) The dizzying scent of

freedom.

MICK BOYLE:

(smiles) Oh right, I know that

scent.

LENA:

But Daddy really didn’t tell you

anything about the Queen, about the

Simple Songs he was supposed to

conduct in London, and how he

refused?

MICK BOYLE:

No. He didn’t tell me a thing.

83.

LENA:

What a strange friendship you two

have.

MICK BOYLE:

Strange? No, it’s a good

friendship. And in a goodfriendship, you only tell each

other the good things. He must have

thought that the Queen’s concert

wasn’t one of them.

LENA:

He says he can’t conduct his

“Simple Songs” because the only

person who could sing them was my

mother.

MICK BOYLE:

(surprised) He said that?

LENA:

Yes, that's what he told the

Queen's emissary.

MICK BOYLE:

It took him eighty years to finally

say something romantic, and who

does he go and say it to? The

Queen's emissary.

Lena smiles. And so does Mick.

LENA:

He watches me at night, while I

sleep. And tonight, for the first

time in my life, he caressed me asI was asleep. Only I wasn’t asleep,

I was pretending.

MICK BOYLE:

Parents know when their children

are pretending to be asleep.

Lena’s eyes are bright now, and she turns her back to Mick so

he can’t see how touched she is.

MICK BOYLE (CONT’D)

Are you worried about him?

LENA:

No, I’m not worried about him.

56. INT. HOTEL DINING ROOM. DAY

We’re well aware that this hotel is a quiet place, but it has

never been this silent before.

84.

Everyone is looking in the same direction: at the table where

Adolf Hitler, indifferent to all those around him, is digging

in to a hearty breakfast.

And the astounding thing is that they’re all looking at him

deferentially, in awe, as if this were actually the real

Hitler, sixty years later. So much so that some of them,

passing by him on their way out of the dining room, end up

bowing ever so slightly, respectfully, to the fuhrer and

saying “Good morning.”

Hitler returns their greeting with the hint of a haughty

salute.

Then Jimmy/Hitler takes a handkerchief out of his pocket,

blows his nose, rubs the tip quickly four times, just as he

had always seen Fred do, folds it, and puts it back in his

pocket.

Fred Ballinger observes Jimmy from his table and, on seeing

his own habitual gesture reinterpreted by Hitler, smiles

strangely.

Then the silent German couple stop in front of Hitler and the

woman stares severely at Jimmy/Hitler. In a serious voice,

she orders him.

GERMAN WOMAN:

Don't you ever dare to do that

again.

57. INT. SKI LIFT. DAY

Fred and Mick, all decked out for trekking (hats, sunglasses,

the latest backpacks, formfitting, orange synthetic T-shirts,

Bermuda shorts, colorful Solomon hiking shoes, and poles) sit

next to each other on the ski lift, suspended in mid-air as

they climb up to 10,000 feet. They look up at the vertiginous

peaks and the jagged rock face of the mountains as they sail

silently upward.

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