This is a script I wrote. It's incredibly, painfully mannered and not very interesting. It also contains a brief instance of profanity, use of alcohol (though all characters are over 21 and its England so the drinking age is 18 anyways). Also there is some "suggestive" dialogue, but really, it's not as much as say Jersey Shore, so I don't really see the need for anyone to get fussed about it. By the way, to the...speaking generously, two readers, I've been posting a lot of previously written material this week due to a preponderance of essays (which is the correct collective noun for those wondering), but that should all be over with tomorrow. So, Enjoy?
Title card
LONDON TRYSTS ARE LIKE GERMAN WINE
Ext. the Hills of wales
We open on a shot of TREVOR'S face. He is frazzled, shadows under the eyes.
Trevor
I've been on twenty, no thirty-four blind dates in the past two months, and, um, about seven-teen speed dates. See, I have a premier this week and I don't want to go alone again. I know that sounds shallow, but the last time I did that, there were alot of rather unflattering comments, and I want to avoid that, and at the same time, maybe meet someone, but, (he coughs) that's not going so well. The last time I met an interesting girl was two years ago.
INT. The Tattered Crown Pub
The pub is fairly typical, two seated areas plus the bar. The carpets are deeply worn, a combination of wet mat, ashtray and urinal cake. Right now the movie is intent on bell on the hostess stand. Abruptly the HOSTESS rings the bell, and there is a clamor. The movie cuts to one of the tables, the outline of a woman at the edge of the frame. Trevor tentatively approaches and takes the seat opposite her, extending his hand.
TREVOR
Pleased to meet you.
The woman lets out a sigh, and does something with the pen on her paper. She makes a gesture with the other hand for him to move on. Trevor looks affronted.
TREVOR
What is that?
WOMAN
I'm telling you that in thirty seconds you've already managed to bore me. Now could you move along?
TREVOR
No. I can't just move along, I have another five-
WOMAN
Four.
TREVOR
Four minutes here.
WOMAN
Then can you wait quietly?
TREVOR
I could, but I have to tell you, I find you oddly hostile, for no discernible reason.
WOMAN
Do you know how many times I've heard Pleased to meet you or Hello, today?
TREVOR
Probably as many times as I've said them, so what?
WOMAN
It bores me. Repetition.
TREVOR
So, just because I didn't come up and say something like "I'm Trevor, my mother was arrested for torturing mice with a chadiner and Wagner", I'm immediately discarded as a potential mate?
WOMAN
Which opera?
TREVOR
What?
WOMAN
Was it Percival?
TREVOR
That, that was fictitious, it was nothing.
WOMAN
It's not nothing, it was actually an interesting point.
TREVOR
No it wasn't, it was insanity. Look, can we get back to the topic.
WOMAN
Why bother? Right now, you're interesting, and if you persist, you're going to be boring. So, why don't we leave together, now, and try to be interesting.
TREVOR
If your buying.
WOMAN
How chivalrous.
TREVOR
I don't believe in chivalry, I've known too many men and gone out with too many women.
WOMAN
(extending her hand)
Amanda. For fun, I predict the way people are going to die. I think you're a drowner.
Trevor, stunned, gazes at her. Amanda gets up and lights a cigarette. She smiles at him.
AMANDA
See, wasn't that more interesting?
Trevor shakes his head, astonished.
TITLE CARD
"NOW, TELL ME ABOUT..."
AMANDA
So, how is the search going?
ext. the waterfront
Trevor and Amanda are walking down the promenade. It has recently rained, and the sky overhead threatens more. They are wearing slickers and under her arm Amanda has an umbrella.
TREVOR
It's going as well as expected. I've met no one, I've made an ass out of myself, and I'm in the process of entirely reinventing lonliness. I think it'll be a big hit, you know, with the bi-polar and depressed people.
AMANDA
If only you still lived in New York, you'd make a fortune.
TREVOR
Yeah, but then I'd worry about that money ruining my misery.
He stops and leans over the railing and looks into the river below. Amanda is beside him, drumming her fingers on her arm.
AMANDA
Don't worry. Money just feeds misery. My father killed himself three days after his net worth hit half a billion pounds.
TREVOR
Yes, but wasn't that because of his mistress's tell-all book?
AMANDA
Mostly, but he was always a depressed person. For my fifth birthday he got me a prescription for Valium.
TREVOR
Do you still do that creepy thing on first dates? Where you guess how people will die?
AMANDA
Sometimes. If I don't want to sleep with him.
TREVOR
I wish I'd known that back then. I wouldn't have tried so hard.
AMANDA
And I wish you'd let me know you were trying, you might have gotten somewhere.
TREVOR
(laughs with a bitter edge)
Now that I doubt.
Trevor turns around and looks at the people passing them. Amanda leans over the railing, lighting a cigarette. Trevor points to an executive type lounging at an outside table.
TREVOR
What about him?
AMANDA
(without turning around)
Rage stroke, forty-five.
TREVOR
Would you sleep with him?
AMANDA
Well, not long term no.
TREVOR
Why don't you come to the premier with me?
AMANDA
You know how I feel about those things.
TREVOR
Yeah, but how about as a personal favor for me?
AMANDA
(she takes a drag on her cigarette)
You also know how George feels about them.
TREVOR
What? Him? I'd rather have that priest from Deliver Us from Evil as a friend.
AMANDA
Should I know that?
TREVOR
(shrugs)
I just don't understand why you put up with him. He's loathsome. He's some Stalinist nutjob, I'm surprised he hasn't massacred the entire readership of the Daily Mail.
AMANDA
So? Your a Marxist whackjob, and I still take these walks with you.
TREVOR
I'm not a Marxist, anymore, it's too hotheaded and violent
AMANDA
What are you now?
TREVOR
A nihilist.
AMANDA
(laughs)
They start walking again, heading now into town.
AMANDA
So, will I see you tonight?
TREVOR
Whose throwing the party again?
AMANDA
(exasperated)
Martha.
TREVOR
Well, then I suppose I should.
AMANDA
Good, I'll tell her you'll be there sharply at seven.
TREVOR
Is that when your going?
AMANDA
No, I can't make it till gone ten.
TREVOR
What? Your going to leave me with all those strangers for three hours?
AMANDA
It'll be good for you. Just remember to smile and make eye contact.
She hails a taxi and gets in quickly, waving to Trevor. Who looks off forlornly at the disappearing taxi.
TITLE CARD
THE EVENINGS SLIDE INTO OBSCURITY
EXT. the sien view of here
The cafe is quiet now, as rain pours down, as the overhang bows in its center and the rain trickles down. Most of the customers are inside, in the dim, intimate glow, with steaming mugs of coffee. Outside GREGORY is waiting, tea in a china saucer and cup. By the cup is a slim manuscript with a crinkled and slightly stained cover page. Trevor, looking damp and disheveled.
Gregory
Tell me, in America does thirty minutes count as late?
TREVOR
Only if the other person calls you on it.
(He sits down)
So, did you finish it?
GREGORY
Yes.
TREVOR
(After a few seconds)
And?
GREGORY
I've never though you were much of a writer.
He points at the manuscript.
GREGORY
This cements that interpretation.
TREVOR
Must you always be so judgmental?
GREGORY
I must, though, if only so that one day I might be free of your pedantic little stories.
They look out together at the rain pounding down onto the asphalt.
GREGORY
It never used to rain like this when I was young.
TREVOR
Back when all round here was green fields.
GREGORY
Laugh all you like, but its non-the-less true.
TREVOR
That's climate change for you.
GREGORY
I don't believe in climate change. I think its god wrecking his vengance on this godless world.
They stay their for some moments, before Trevor picks up the manuscript and leaves.
GREGORY
(calling out to him)
Have you seen Amanda recently?
TREVOR
(turning to face him)
I'll be seeing her next week. She's trying to get me to go to some ghastly party.
GREGORY
Well, if you see her, can you tell her I'll return the scarf as soon as I can.
TREVOR
Um, will do.
Int. Holy Cow! Fine Indian Cuisine
The scene opens on a table cluttered with glasses and plates, mostly finished. The restaurant is mostly empty, the waiters are waiting for the group at this table to finish. At the table is CLIVE, a slightly balding man of early middle years, MISCHA, his current girlfriend, an attractive younger woman. Across from them Trevor sits, still sobbing wet, his manuscript by the G&T he's still nursing. Clive picks up his own glass.
Mischa
Did you like the reading?
Trevor
Oh, yeah, I though it was, uh, great. I really liked the one about castration.
Clive
She wrote that after I ran over her dog.
Mischa
I loved that dog. Do you what he did after that? He bought me a leather dog collar?
Trevor
What?
Clive
I thought it was a bracelet.
Mischa
You bought it at a pet store.
Clive
Alright, so I bought it when he was alive.
Trevor
That is incredibly insensitive.
Clive
I have no claims to sensitivity. Indeed my whole career is based upon its absence.
Mischa
Don't encourage him, really, he can be a softy when he needs to.
Clive
But only with clients.
Trevor
Isn't that who you should be the least soft with?
Clive
Are you joking? Authors are delicate little things.
TREVOR
And here's me thinking we're all supposed to be like Hemingway.
Clive
(laughs)
Hemingway felt that way towards the end.
TREVOR
And I'm no Hemingway.
MISCHA
You should let Clive read your book. He's a lousy man, but a great editor.
CLIVE
And I won't tell you I'm not curious.
TREVOR
Yeah, well, you can keep on being curious, I'm not ready to share it with anyone but my current editor and my shrink.
MISCHA
Do you talk about your book in therapy?
TREVOR
Of course, wouldn't you?
CLIVE
I don't think so.
(He takes another sip from his glass)
Seriously, though, Trevor, I think you should consider finding another editor. Gregory's a little
MISCHA
Conservative.
Clive
No, he's a lot conservative, I was going to say a little harsh.
TREVOR
I need that. It's why I have a Freudian analyst. I can't deal with the unconditional positive regard of those Harley Street nuts.
Clive
I don't actually think there are that many psychiatrists on Harley Street.
TREVOR
It was more about the cache of the name.
Title card
LONDON TRYSTS ARE LIKE GERMAN WINE
Ext. the Hills of wales
We open on a shot of TREVOR'S face. He is frazzled, shadows under the eyes.
Trevor
I've been on twenty, no thirty-four blind dates in the past two months, and, um, about seven-teen speed dates. See, I have a premier this week and I don't want to go alone again. I know that sounds shallow, but the last time I did that, there were alot of rather unflattering comments, and I want to avoid that, and at the same time, maybe meet someone, but, (he coughs) that's not going so well. The last time I met an interesting girl was two years ago.
INT. The Tattered Crown Pub
The pub is fairly typical, two seated areas plus the bar. The carpets are deeply worn, a combination of wet mat, ashtray and urinal cake. Right now the movie is intent on bell on the hostess stand. Abruptly the HOSTESS rings the bell, and there is a clamor. The movie cuts to one of the tables, the outline of a woman at the edge of the frame. Trevor tentatively approaches and takes the seat opposite her, extending his hand.
TREVOR
Pleased to meet you.
The woman lets out a sigh, and does something with the pen on her paper. She makes a gesture with the other hand for him to move on. Trevor looks affronted.
TREVOR
What is that?
WOMAN
I'm telling you that in thirty seconds you've already managed to bore me. Now could you move along?
TREVOR
No. I can't just move along, I have another five-
WOMAN
Four.
TREVOR
Four minutes here.
WOMAN
Then can you wait quietly?
TREVOR
I could, but I have to tell you, I find you oddly hostile, for no discernible reason.
WOMAN
Do you know how many times I've heard Pleased to meet you or Hello, today?
TREVOR
Probably as many times as I've said them, so what?
WOMAN
It bores me. Repetition.
TREVOR
So, just because I didn't come up and say something like "I'm Trevor, my mother was arrested for torturing mice with a chadiner and Wagner", I'm immediately discarded as a potential mate?
WOMAN
Which opera?
TREVOR
What?
WOMAN
Was it Percival?
TREVOR
That, that was fictitious, it was nothing.
WOMAN
It's not nothing, it was actually an interesting point.
TREVOR
No it wasn't, it was insanity. Look, can we get back to the topic.
WOMAN
Why bother? Right now, you're interesting, and if you persist, you're going to be boring. So, why don't we leave together, now, and try to be interesting.
TREVOR
If your buying.
WOMAN
How chivalrous.
TREVOR
I don't believe in chivalry, I've known too many men and gone out with too many women.
WOMAN
(extending her hand)
Amanda. For fun, I predict the way people are going to die. I think you're a drowner.
Trevor, stunned, gazes at her. Amanda gets up and lights a cigarette. She smiles at him.
AMANDA
See, wasn't that more interesting?
Trevor shakes his head, astonished.
TITLE CARD
"NOW, TELL ME ABOUT..."
AMANDA
So, how is the search going?
ext. the waterfront
Trevor and Amanda are walking down the promenade. It has recently rained, and the sky overhead threatens more. They are wearing slickers and under her arm Amanda has an umbrella.
TREVOR
It's going as well as expected. I've met no one, I've made an ass out of myself, and I'm in the process of entirely reinventing lonliness. I think it'll be a big hit, you know, with the bi-polar and depressed people.
AMANDA
If only you still lived in New York, you'd make a fortune.
TREVOR
Yeah, but then I'd worry about that money ruining my misery.
He stops and leans over the railing and looks into the river below. Amanda is beside him, drumming her fingers on her arm.
AMANDA
Don't worry. Money just feeds misery. My father killed himself three days after his net worth hit half a billion pounds.
TREVOR
Yes, but wasn't that because of his mistress's tell-all book?
AMANDA
Mostly, but he was always a depressed person. For my fifth birthday he got me a prescription for Valium.
TREVOR
Do you still do that creepy thing on first dates? Where you guess how people will die?
AMANDA
Sometimes. If I don't want to sleep with him.
TREVOR
I wish I'd known that back then. I wouldn't have tried so hard.
AMANDA
And I wish you'd let me know you were trying, you might have gotten somewhere.
TREVOR
(laughs with a bitter edge)
Now that I doubt.
Trevor turns around and looks at the people passing them. Amanda leans over the railing, lighting a cigarette. Trevor points to an executive type lounging at an outside table.
TREVOR
What about him?
AMANDA
(without turning around)
Rage stroke, forty-five.
TREVOR
Would you sleep with him?
AMANDA
Well, not long term no.
TREVOR
Why don't you come to the premier with me?
AMANDA
You know how I feel about those things.
TREVOR
Yeah, but how about as a personal favor for me?
AMANDA
(she takes a drag on her cigarette)
You also know how George feels about them.
TREVOR
What? Him? I'd rather have that priest from Deliver Us from Evil as a friend.
AMANDA
Should I know that?
TREVOR
(shrugs)
I just don't understand why you put up with him. He's loathsome. He's some Stalinist nutjob, I'm surprised he hasn't massacred the entire readership of the Daily Mail.
AMANDA
So? Your a Marxist whackjob, and I still take these walks with you.
TREVOR
I'm not a Marxist, anymore, it's too hotheaded and violent
AMANDA
What are you now?
TREVOR
A nihilist.
AMANDA
(laughs)
They start walking again, heading now into town.
AMANDA
So, will I see you tonight?
TREVOR
Whose throwing the party again?
AMANDA
(exasperated)
Martha.
TREVOR
Well, then I suppose I should.
AMANDA
Good, I'll tell her you'll be there sharply at seven.
TREVOR
Is that when your going?
AMANDA
No, I can't make it till gone ten.
TREVOR
What? Your going to leave me with all those strangers for three hours?
AMANDA
It'll be good for you. Just remember to smile and make eye contact.
She hails a taxi and gets in quickly, waving to Trevor. Who looks off forlornly at the disappearing taxi.
TITLE CARD
THE EVENINGS SLIDE INTO OBSCURITY
EXT. the sien view of here
The cafe is quiet now, as rain pours down, as the overhang bows in its center and the rain trickles down. Most of the customers are inside, in the dim, intimate glow, with steaming mugs of coffee. Outside GREGORY is waiting, tea in a china saucer and cup. By the cup is a slim manuscript with a crinkled and slightly stained cover page. Trevor, looking damp and disheveled.
Gregory
Tell me, in America does thirty minutes count as late?
TREVOR
Only if the other person calls you on it.
(He sits down)
So, did you finish it?
GREGORY
Yes.
TREVOR
(After a few seconds)
And?
GREGORY
I've never though you were much of a writer.
He points at the manuscript.
GREGORY
This cements that interpretation.
TREVOR
Must you always be so judgmental?
GREGORY
I must, though, if only so that one day I might be free of your pedantic little stories.
They look out together at the rain pounding down onto the asphalt.
GREGORY
It never used to rain like this when I was young.
TREVOR
Back when all round here was green fields.
GREGORY
Laugh all you like, but its non-the-less true.
TREVOR
That's climate change for you.
GREGORY
I don't believe in climate change. I think its god wrecking his vengance on this godless world.
They stay their for some moments, before Trevor picks up the manuscript and leaves.
GREGORY
(calling out to him)
Have you seen Amanda recently?
TREVOR
(turning to face him)
I'll be seeing her next week. She's trying to get me to go to some ghastly party.
GREGORY
Well, if you see her, can you tell her I'll return the scarf as soon as I can.
TREVOR
Um, will do.
Int. Holy Cow! Fine Indian Cuisine
The scene opens on a table cluttered with glasses and plates, mostly finished. The restaurant is mostly empty, the waiters are waiting for the group at this table to finish. At the table is CLIVE, a slightly balding man of early middle years, MISCHA, his current girlfriend, an attractive younger woman. Across from them Trevor sits, still sobbing wet, his manuscript by the G&T he's still nursing. Clive picks up his own glass.
Mischa
Did you like the reading?
Trevor
Oh, yeah, I though it was, uh, great. I really liked the one about castration.
Clive
She wrote that after I ran over her dog.
Mischa
I loved that dog. Do you what he did after that? He bought me a leather dog collar?
Trevor
What?
Clive
I thought it was a bracelet.
Mischa
You bought it at a pet store.
Clive
Alright, so I bought it when he was alive.
Trevor
That is incredibly insensitive.
Clive
I have no claims to sensitivity. Indeed my whole career is based upon its absence.
Mischa
Don't encourage him, really, he can be a softy when he needs to.
Clive
But only with clients.
Trevor
Isn't that who you should be the least soft with?
Clive
Are you joking? Authors are delicate little things.
TREVOR
And here's me thinking we're all supposed to be like Hemingway.
Clive
(laughs)
Hemingway felt that way towards the end.
TREVOR
And I'm no Hemingway.
MISCHA
You should let Clive read your book. He's a lousy man, but a great editor.
CLIVE
And I won't tell you I'm not curious.
TREVOR
Yeah, well, you can keep on being curious, I'm not ready to share it with anyone but my current editor and my shrink.
MISCHA
Do you talk about your book in therapy?
TREVOR
Of course, wouldn't you?
CLIVE
I don't think so.
(He takes another sip from his glass)
Seriously, though, Trevor, I think you should consider finding another editor. Gregory's a little
MISCHA
Conservative.
Clive
No, he's a lot conservative, I was going to say a little harsh.
TREVOR
I need that. It's why I have a Freudian analyst. I can't deal with the unconditional positive regard of those Harley Street nuts.
Clive
I don't actually think there are that many psychiatrists on Harley Street.
TREVOR
It was more about the cache of the name.
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