I’ll Do Anything For You (American Aboriginals)

By Michael Winn©

A screenplay, working title, Dances With Kayaks (or I’ll Do Anything For You) also, American Aboriginals.

(Formatting to be corrected when software arrives.)

Logline 1: A writer stumbles on desire.

Logline 2: Three men escape from Atascadro.

INT. SUN – BEGINNING OF TIME

Sound of a distant seismic event moving toward us as reverse out of interior of the sun to the sound of raging parrots.

INT. REHEARSAL ROOM – DAWN

Summer (20s), wearing sweat pants and top, hair tucked in to a knit cap, sits in semi-lotus on a wooden chair. She holds a cup of hot tea and pages of a script from which she takes her lines.

Glenn (40s), sits opposite her.

GLENN

You look like someone I want to know.

Summer smiles.

FADE TO BLACK:

Piano theme from PRI “World” program.

FADE IN:

AERIAL OF DEL MAR BEACH

Aerialist, 40, bathing suit and running shoes, jogging north on beach, sweep up to reveal town, pan over to city hall site in smoking ruins.

Sound of news helicopter arriving overhead.

SUSAN (VO) (news anchor voice)

But, why Del Mar?… Why not, I don’t know, Ventura?

DEPUTY (VO)

We just don’t know.

EXT. DEL MAR CITY HALL SITE – SUNNY DAY

Helicopter arrives over SUSAN, 36, brunette, gray/blue eyes, enunciated eyebrows, slender, poised, descendant of a Blackfoot-Crow native and a Norsk-Irish orphan, tightly

Tucked into a Banana Republic skirt, sandals that reveal maroon toe nails, white cotton blouse, standing in the rubble that was Del Mar’s City Hall with a Sheriff’s deputy in an impeccable khaki uniform.

Behind the two women, a small crowd of mostly Asian and a few German tourists are standing behind the police tape, where the Sun Diego tour bus has stopped, and are posting photos with iphones.

SUSAN

Any leads or suspects?

Line of type identifies “S.D. County Sheriff  Sgt. Lorettalito Gonsalvez, Public Affairs.

DEPUTY

(under his breath) No (darling) We don’t know anything yet.

EXT. DEL MAR BEACH – SAME

On the beach CU face of Aerialist, 40, apparently disoriented and running, then a long shot from above and behind looking down on a man teetering into and collpsing facefirst into the surf…

EXT. DEL MAR CITY HALL SITE – SUNNY DAY

Police in hazmat suits search through the rubble in the background while Susan addresses camera a few meters nearbye. 

SUSAN (on camera)

A city truck exploded here this morning, leveling the city hall and the Mayor and city attorney can’t be located.

 A man in a hazmat suit emerges from the smoke holding a fuzzy little dog that is trying to skake the noise of an explosion out of its little ears.

SUSAN

A small dog. (pensively) So far, the only survivor.

EXT. DEL MAR BEACH – SAME DAY

Aerialist meandering down the beach, slowing down.

SUSAN VO (CONT)

Corgy? No? Corgy-poo.

He staggers into the surf, collapses forward into the sea. Body floats, lifeless.

INT. TV STUDIO – LATER

Susan sits behind desk on the news set reading the evening news from a teleprompter.

SUSAN

People on Honshu Island, Japan,

left their homes near Fukushima

today in a show of support for

North Korea whose declaration of

war on General Electric and

Halliburton marks the first time a

nation declared war on a secular

corporation…?

Susan looks at the copy she’s reading in puzzlement.

SUSAN VO

Prison authorities say that Pedro or Peter Calibano,

Caliban’s (PC’s) grinning face. He wears prison clothes over massive shoulders.  

 a prisoner, at Atascadero State Hospital

for the criminally insane,

Caliban’s (PC’s) grinning face.

was released by accident due to a communication error.

Pedro, who is also known as PC

Dark, steel blue eyes and a sinister smile.

is suspected of shooting three police officers in Los Angeles and is heading for the border.

FTX is tattoed on top of his shaved head.

Clip of DETECTIVE and Susan in the field.

DETECTIVE

You don’t want to meet this man. If you see him call 911. That is all.

EXT. LORNA’S RESTAURANT – LATER

Susan and Aerialist, identifies as straight male with tendencies, horn-rimmed glasses, expensive haircut, picking at antipasta at a table outside a restaurant across from Sparkles’ a strip club.

Harmonica blues wafts from the door of the club.

SUSAN

What is it then, a coming of age flick?

WRITER

The Pantheon! 

SUSAN

You’re thinking about yourself again. Is it a tragedy this time?

WRITER

A a comedy, yes, it is tragic. I feel tragic! But that’s not tragedy.

SUSAN

Look, I don’t mean to use you. Does the hero die? Or what?

WRITER

We don’t want to consciously.

SUSAN

What do you want from me?

INT. LCD INTERNET WEBCAM CHATROOM BROWSER WINDOW

Blues harp segue into rap heard through tinny laptop computer speakers.

SUMMER, 28. Long strawberry blond hair falls to her waist, elaborate tattoo wings the color of her eyes on either side of her torso from hips to breasts. She sits on the floor of her bedroom in front of a red satin covered queen bed, masturbating before the laptop web cam.

A rhythmic vibration is heard in the browser window open on an LCD monitor in which, Summer is seen responding to the touch of her hand and a realistically articulated clear plastic vibrating sex toy, her hips undulate as she moves to the rhythm of a popular rap song. In a corner of the screen, there a much smaller image of Matthew under which in a small banner is his screen name, HARRYGOB. Her body jerks as she experiences orgasm and then relaxes back into the comforters on the bed and extinguishes the vibrator.

INT. SUMMER’S BEDROOM – SAME

She smiles and stretches, speaking in tones of gratitude and authentic appreciation,

SUMMER

Wow. That was nice, Harry. Thank you. You’re amazing.

                      HARRYGOB

           No, you’re amazing!

 

SUMMER

You made that happen, Harry.

HARRYGOB

All my life, I’ve wanted to be someone a girl like you wants.

SUMMER

All your life?

HARRYGOB

You know what I mean.

SUMMER

Yeah, I guess so. Thanks.

HARRYGOB

I mean it. I really do.

SUMMER

I get it. I do. Listen. You want to feel that I want you to fuck me.

HARRYGOB

Grab your hair.

Summer laughs, turns and kneels on the chair, tosses her head throwing her hair back over her shoulder, reaches under her belly to insert the toy.

SUMMER

Like this?

HARRYGOB

Yes. God. Yes. You are beautiful.

INT. LCD INTERNET WEBCAM CHATROOM BROWSER WINDOW

SUMMER

Give it to me, Harry. Fuck me.

Hard. Please.

EXT. DEL MAR BEACH – SAME

Seagull screams over sound of waves breaking on the beach. Seagull skims over surf, passing over Writer who has risen to his hands and knees in the surf. Water drains his face, hair, mouth and nose.

His eyes follow the shadow of gull sweeping overhead but he recognizes nothing his eyes see except as images that contained charges as they look up and refocus on the shoreline and the bluffs, while now nearly standing, and he distinguishes objects as buildings. His eyes sweep past and then return to a large, round window in the home of a woman that fascinates him. With the sound of thundering surf returns in his hearing, it feels to hims as if his entire life had just returned to him through that circular window. 

Downbeat for Busted.

TITLE CARD: SHOW ME A ROSE

(First verse of Harlan Howard’s song, Busted, under)

                    HARLAN VO

          Even when I was a kid, I liked the sad songs…

EXT. AERIAL HELICOPTER FLYOVER – BRIGHT SUNNY DAY

FLYOVER of middle class suburban development in San Diego

north of the Mason-Dixon line popularly called, “the I-8”.

INTER-CUT STILLS, zoomed or swish-zoomed NPR conceit, to

establish San Diego location, contemporary time and culture.

                    HARLAN VO

          …songs that talked about true

life. I recognized this music as a

simple plea. It beckoned me.

EXT. GOVT. ISLAND – DAY

Writer not young but not particularly defined by age, sits

in a Director’s Chair. “Acme Film Rental Co.” printed on

back of chair and brim of his baseball cap.

                    WRITER

          You’ve heard that life begins at

40, when you accept your sexual

role with women is that you’re a high maintenance dildo

and if you can afford the best, a treasured client. A

          kind of zombie but invisible. I

made a deal on a movie.

The devil offered me a piece

of the gross. Fifteen weeks to write the movie

seemed like a good deal. Golden

Horde swimming in cash, actors

collecting disability, plenty of

cheap talent available.

Grip carrying lighting gear walks in front of the camera.

                    GRIP

          God, are you rolling? God, I’m sorry.

EXT. AERIAL HELICOPTER FLYOVER – SAME Busted swells

Aerial, passing over crucifix on Mt. Soledad, Mission Bay comes into view.

EXT. LORNA’S RESTAURANT – SAME

Susan nudges Gorgonzola onto a crust. At a table next to them, a young Asian couple fidgets as Susan grows louder.

                    SUSAN

          Why are there so many Asians as backgrounds in these scenes. You can’t channel Woody Allen ’til after their dead. On principle. Do you know you’re a narcissist?

                    WRITER

          I never liked Bob Hope, I admit he doesn’t offend me now. Youth!

                    SUSAN

          Do you know you’re a narcissist!

                    WRITER

         Not so, I publish my fantasies. I’m a professional.

                    SUSAN

          Do you know you’re a narcissist!

                    WRITER

I like being near you. I’m like the dog. 

 Nothing wakes you up like heart

surgery. Your body attacks you.

INT. SURGICAL RECOVERY ROOM – DAY

Patient connected to monitors. Doctor and assistants stand

around the bed.

Patient’s view, looking up at faces that are mostly hidden

by caps and masks, patient sees only their eyes.

                    DOCTOR

          It’s out of our hands.

Patient’s (Writer’s) eyes widen.

Patient’s view over oxygen mask as faces lean closer.

                    DOCTOR

          Blink if you want us to unplug you.

Blink twice if you don’t.

Patient’s eyes express horror as he tries not to blink.

                    NURSE VO

          I think you’ve confused him, doctor.

                    DOCTOR

          We’re losing him…

Patient’s view, OTHER FACE, masked like the others leans in.

                    OTHER FACE

          Your mother will die, your partner

is stealing everything, you will

          lose your home and your fiance is

fucking…

INT. RESTROOM IN HOSPITAL WAITING ROOM – SAME

Man, with his pants around his ankles pounds Susan, perched

on the sink, her ankles resting on his shoulders.

                    OTHER FACE VO (CONT)

          …a guy she met in the waiting room outside that door.

INT. SURGICAL RECOVERY ROOM – SAME

Surgical team around gurney starting writer’s heart.

Monitor shows weak heart beat.

                    SURGEON

          He’s not breathing yet. Bring his

friend in here. Hurry!

Susan disheveled not clear why she’s there.

                    SURGEON

          He’s not breathing. Try to wake…

Blackness

          SURGEON

He’s unconscious. We can’t put him

back on the heart lung machine.

He’ll die. He’s got to breathe or

he dies. Try to wake him up.

          SUSAN

Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

          SUSAN VO

Can you hear me? I love you,

please, please, wake up. Can you

hear me?

Him. What?

SUSAN

She turns to physician, unemotional, matter of fact.

SUSAN

He’s dead.

Surgeon points to scope showing his heart rate. Susan nods

and leans close to Writer’s head and shouts in his ear.

Black

SUSAN (CONT)

Breathe! God Damn it! Breathe! This is

not friffing fair!

SUSAN VO REVERB

Wake up, dammit! I didn’t come here

for this. I don’t want to call to

tell your mother I let you die! You

can’t do this to me! Breathe dammit! Breathe!

Black fades to pink, pounding heart an agonizingly

painful shallow breath.

SURGEON

Oh, good, Thank you, miss. Great. Get her out of here

before we lose him again.

INT. LORNA’S RESTAURANT

WRITER

I was really pissed at you. What

troubles me most is why I thought I

was sane. I’m running out of time.

CHESS PLAY SCENE FROM 7TH SEAL

INT. LORNA’S RESTAURANT – SAME

SUSAN

How is death dressing these days?

WRITER

Grays

SUSAN

You’re going to make this movie?

WRITER

Three versions.

SUSAN

Three virgins?

WRITER

Versions. Versions.

SUSAN

Virgins is more provocative.

WRITER

Like Rashomon. One version is

making the film, one is a sexy

story for hormonally challenged

viewers about a cuckold, the shell

is Hawaii fifty.

SUSAN

Five Oh. Hormonally challenged.

WRITER

Sex negative. Confused.

SUSAN

You want to fuck me.

WRITER

You read the script.

SUSAN

Yes.

WRITER

You’re an actor.

SUSAN

I do rom com, not porno.

WRITER Satisfying Susan?

SUSAN

That’s not porn.

WRITER

Probably, why it flopped.

SUSAN 
Satisfying is romantic. Skin,

nipples, butt, not explicit.

WRITER

Back-wrapped legs, biting of the

lower lip, curling upper lip, red

hand prints on butt cheeks, curling

toes…

SUSAN

How many times did you see it?

WRITER

Don’t you think everyone should

have videos of their former lovers.

SUSAN

No. And I wouldn’t do a film like

that for you. Nothing personal. My

husband wouldn’t let me.

Camera crew in street facing Susan and Writer.

TONY, 12, prodigy director, leaps from a canvas chair, gesturing like a baseball umpire calling a play,

TONY

Safe!

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