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*{ Robert Towne
Ask the Dust > Het script
(een fragment)
Scenarioschrijver Robert Towne verwierf grote roem met zijn scenario's voor de films Chinatown en The Last Detail; voor beide kreeg hij een Oscar. Hij beschouwt Ask the Dust als een van de beste boeken die ooit zijn geschreven en kocht de filmrechten. Hij schreef het script in een maand tijd, maar de filmbazen van de grote studio's van Hollywood vinden het tot nu toe een ‘depressief, raeistisch verhaal’, ook al had Sean Penn reeds toegezegd de rol van Arturo Bandini te zullen vertolken. Hieronder volgt een fragment uit het script, waarvoor de redactie Robert Towne veel dank is verschuldigd.
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John Fante's
Ask the Dust
Screenplay by
Robert Towne
March 30, 1993
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FADE IN:
EXT THE CITY OF LOS ANGELES (NIGHT, 1933)
viewed from high in the hills, it 's a flat carpet of soft lights, dribbling off into darkness at the Pacific shoreline. It is framed by Eucalyptus branches blowing in a lazy Santa Ana sounding like the twitching of horses' tails.
BANDINI'S VOICE
The night before we met I was in
my hotel room on Bunker Hill down
in the very middle of Los
Angeles...
Like the blue fairy and Jiminy Crickett finding their way thru the quaint storybook village to Gepetto's shop window, CAMERA moves down to and thru the LA basin - the splendor of old Pasadena, along the Arroyo Seco, thru the black and Gold of the Richfield building, past the waving palms and neon marquee at the Wilshire entrance to the Ambassador Hotel, past the mansions in Freemont place, past the beacon of City Hall, past Angel's Flight to the decaying wooden homes of ancient Bunker Hill to:
BANDINI'S HOTEL
and its sign:
BANDINI'S VOICE
- it was called the Alta Loma. It
was built on a hillside in
reverse, so that the main floor
was on the level with the
street...
Camera is now at street level.
BANDINI'S VOICE
- my room was 678 down on the
sixth floor, so that my window was
on a level with a green hillside
and there was no need for a
key....
Camera proceeds to drop down the side of the clapboard building, floor by floor until it reaches the top of a palm tree, proceeding down its fronds to its huge trunk and the small hillside it rests on, facing an open window. There, faintly visible in the window, framed by it and the base of the palm tree fg, sits Arturo Bandini, staring out towards camera.
BANDINI
..the window was always open...
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CAMERA continues move to and thru window to a haggard and hollow eyed Bandini, staring out the window.
BANDINI'S VOICE
..I'd been going over the plans
I'd made since I'd come here like
everyone else in search of
fortune, fame, good health and
glamorous women. only I was going
to be different. I wasn't here to
search for my future, I was here
to create it. I'd write the first
great novel about this place and
everybody who came here from
somewhere else - beauty contest
winners from Des Moines, Filipinos
from Honolulu, palm trees from
Africa. ‘The Road to Los
Angeles,’ by Arturo Bandini - it
would bring me everything I ever
wanted. Now, after five months, I
was trying to make a very
important decision - what to do
with my last nickel.
He stares down at the Buffalo head in his hand. There's a sound at the edge of the room. Bandini hears it with preternatural sharpness. He glances to the door. The worn red carpet is littered with crumpled typewriter paper more or less concentrated around the portable Underwood on the desk in the corner. A neat little envelope has been slipped under the door. Bandini sighs, gets up and retrieves it.
INSERT NOTE
MRS HARGRAVES VO
‘Mr. Bandini, it has now been six
weeks since you've paid the rent.
At $4.00/per it's mounting like
the national debt. Either you pay
$24.00, every penny, or pack up
and leave.’
G. Hargraves
Bandini nods grimly.
BANDINI VO
- it was her sixth note in six
weeks. Pretty humiliating. My
landlady was getting more writing
done than I was -
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Bandini looks out the window at the palm tree. Under the muffled sound of a typewriter, DISSOLVE:
EXT POV MOVING TO LOBBY (DAY) MRS HARGRAVES
BANDINI VO
She was a tall woman who increased
her height by rising on tiptoe and
peering at me over her glasses..
BANDINI
(carrying suitcase and typewriter)
I'd like a room.
MRS HARGRAVES
Do you have a job?
BANDINI
I'm a writer.
He opens suitcase and pulls out a copy, one of many, of a magazine.
BANDINI (cont'd)
I wrote that. Here -
Mrs. Hargraves continues to peer down over her glasses as Bandini takes a fountain pen off her desk.
BANDINI
What's your name?
MRS HARGRAVES
Mrs. Hargraves. Why?
Bandini writes with a flourish on the cover.
BANDINI
- for Mrs. Hargraves, a woman of
ineffable charm, with lovely blue
eyes and a generous smile, from
the author, Arturo Bandini -
He offers her the autographed magazine.
She glances down at it. The story's title, ‘The Little Dog Laughed’ by Arturo Bandini visible on the cover. She forces a smile.
MRS HARGRAVES
I hate dog stories. Young man,
are you a Mexican?
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Bandini points at himself and laughs.
BANDINI
Me, a Mexican? I'm an American,
Mrs. Hargraves. And that isn't a
dog story, either.
MRS HARGRAVES
(undeterred)
We don't allow Mexicans in this
hotel.
BANDINI
I'm not a Mexican and there isn't
a dog in the whole story.
MRS HARGRAVES
We don't allow Jews either.
BANDINI
I got that title after the fable -
you know, ‘and the little dog
laughed to see such sport.’
Bandini signs the register with as much flourish as he can muster. Mrs. Hargraves suddenly beams, seeming very pleased.
MRS HARGRAVES
So you're an author! How nice!
Welcome to California, Mr.
Bandini! You'll love it here!
INT HOTEL ROOM (DAY)
Mrs. Hargraves opens the door to Bandini's room, now neat as a pin. Bandini, bright-eyed, dressed for Sunday mass, carries his suitcase and typewriter. He rushes to the window.
BANDINI'S POV PALM TREE
BANDINI'S VOICE
(sound of typewriter
keys underneath)
Thru that window I saw my first
palm tree, not six feet away -
but the palm was blackish at its
branches -
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CLOSE PAPER IN TYPEWRITER
as Bandini's hands pound the keys.
WITH BANDINI (DAY)
at his typewriter, now in shorts, hair disheveled, an ashtray full of cigarette butts and orange peels near at hand. He reaches for one of the butts, relights it. He exhales, stares out the window.
FULL SHOT PALM TREE
BANDINI'S VOICE
- stained by carbon monoxide
coming out of the Third Street
tunnel, it's crusted trunk choked
with dust and sand that blew in
from the Mojave and Santa Ana
Deserts..’
BACK TO BANDINI
BANDINI
(out loud)
What jerk is gonna believe I made
it all the way from Colorado to
downtown L.A. without seeing one
goddam palm tree?
Angrily yanks the page out of the typewriter and tosses it among the other wads of abandoned effort. There's a knock on the door.
BANDINI (INT HOTEL NIGHT)
tenses and stares down at Mrs. Hargraves' note. The knocking continues, quietly insistent. Bandini sneaks up to the door. Then he hears:
HELLFRICK'S VOICE
(muffled, urgent)
- kid..kid?..kid!
Bandini cracks open the door. Hellfrick his next-door neighbor, eyes bloodshot and gin-soaked, in his perpetual gray bathrobe that's perpetually and unattractively half-open, wedges into the room.
HELLFRICK
(whispering)
Do you like milk?
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BANDINI
(instantly wary)
I do. Yes, Hellfrick. I like
milk.
HELLFRICK
Okay, then. Here's the plan. The
Adohr man's a friend of mine.
Every morning at four he parks his
truck behind the hotel and comes
up to my room for a little gin...
Hellfrick seems to run out of breath.
BANDINI
That's not much of a plan,
Hellfrick.
HELLFRICK
No, no, kid. While he's having a
drink with me, you've got ten
minutes to help yourself to the
milk. So whatta you think?
BANDINI
(distastefully)
If he's your friend why not just
ask him for it?
HELLFRICK
(amazed)
Kid, c'mon. Who's kidding who?
He knows I don't drink milk. I'm
doing this for you.
BANDINI
No thanks, Hellfrick. I like to
consider myself an honest man.
And I might add it certainly makes
me wonder about your ideas of
friendship which -
HELLFRICK
Okay, okay. I was only trying to
do you a favor.
BANDINI
(angrily)
You want to do me a favor? pay me
the money I loaned you.
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HELLFRICK
(calmly)
How much was that?
BANDINI
Fifteen cents.
HELLFRICK
Haven't got it.
BANDINI
How about - ten cents?
Hellfrick shakes his head.
BANDINI
A nickel?
HELLFRICK
Can't give you any hard cash, kid.
But I'll see that you get all the
milk you need -
And he slips away. Bandini starts to slam his door, then thinks better of it. He turns away and practically runs into his mother's picture on the dresser. At the sight of it he's close to tears. He then spots Hackmuth of the American Mercury staring sternly down from his honored place over Bandini's bed.
BANDINI VO
Hackmuth. Editor of the greatest
magazine in the country. Do you
want to let him down?
Bandini's eyes dry immediately. He fishes in an ashtray full of orange peels for a cigarette butt long enough to light. He can't find one. The sounds his stomach make fill the room. He can't stand it.
LATER (INT BANDINI'S ROOM NIGHT)
Bandini sits in his window and rolls a cigarette with Sir Walter Raleigh pipe tobacco from a cloth sack and a square of tissure from a roll of toilet paper. Lights it and the resultant flame singes the forelock hanging in his face.
He exhales and stares out the window.
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BANDINI
(VO with teletype
Winchell delivery:)
‘- hello Mr. and Mrs. America and
all the ships at sea. Flash! from
the city of Angels. Promising
writer Arturo Bandini, well known
protege of American Mercury
Magazine's supereditor J.C. Hackmuth
hauled into court on charges of
petty theft. Scribe claims he wasn't
stealing milk at 4AM on Bunker Hill.
He was researching tale titled ‘Milk
Thief’ about a starving writer who
steals milk at 4AM on Bunker Hill.
Flash! title this one ‘Likely Story’
and wrap Friday's fish in it.
Bandini goes to the dresser mirror. He faces his reflection.
BANDINI
Think of something besides
stealing a bottle of milk. You're
an author, not a thief.
Gravely he turns and walks to the typewriter, glancing up at Hackmuth. He sits and something hits him. He swoops down on the keys like a bird of prey.
BANDINI
(VO)
Oh, for a Mexican girl!
As his voice catches up to the words on the page, mute the sound of the keys and DISSOLVE:
EXT LA (DAY)
Various shots of a Bandini, prowling the byways of the city.
BANDINI
(VO cont'd)
The streets are full of them, the
Plaza and Chinatown are afire
with them, and in my fashion they
are mine, Aztec princesses and
the peon girls, everywhere -
AT THE PLAZA (DAY)
by the fountain, Mexican shopgirls from Olvera Street rest and sip lemon ices and talk with their hands and arms and mouths and eyes.
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They watch Bandini watch them.
BANDINI VO
- one glance with their big brown
eyes and they know he's an
inexperienced gringo, ignorant of
women and life and afraid of both.
Trying to look the preoccupied artist, Bandini steals glances at their bare legs and arms until they catch him looking. He's then possessed by a profound idea or a remembered appointment that causes him to hurry away from the scene. Peals of laughter and spoken Spanish nip at his heels.
IN CHINATOWN
a Mexican girl, a teenager in a peasant blouse holds her baby sister in her arms - or is it her daughter? and looks thru a shop window. In the window she sees Bandini looking at her. She turns to face him. She smiles. Bandini scowls. The Mexican girl's smile fades and she hugs her baby sister and moves on. Bandini watches her go, longing.
BANDINI VO
- they're so nice, so happy when
you act like a gentleman. Why
can't you just smile back and say
hello?
IN CENTRAL MARKET
BANDINI VO
- he saw me coming, bullet-faced
and always smiling -
Bandini holds up a nickel. The Japanese vegetable man grabs a paper sack and begins filling it with oranges, bright fresh skins, fifteen, more.
Bandini watches a couple of Mexican girls shopping, picking up lima beans, peas -
JAPANESE
(smiling)
You rike banana?
BANDINI
(watching Mexican girls)
Sure.
He tosses in a couple of bananas.
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JAPANESE
(smiling)
You rike apple?
BANDINI
(watching girls)
Sure.
The Japanese tosses in a couple of apples.
JAPANESE
(smiling)
You rike peaches?
Bandini nods, his eyes still on the Mexican girls.
BANDINI VO
(watching)
- they sway and glide and their
sandals make a sound when they
walk like wheat being threshed, I
want to kiss their feet -
He's distracted by the Japanese who is holding the huge sack of fruit, smiling.
JAPANESE
Good. Very good for you.
(Bandini hands him the
nickel)
Thank you, thank you -
He bows and leaves Bandini holding the bulging sack.
Bandini looks for the Mexican girls but they're gone.
EXT CHURCH OF OUR LADY (DAY)
Bandini enters.
BANDINI VO
- I even go to Mass to look at
them..
INT CHURCH (DAY)
Bandini furtively watching from a pew - Mexican girls at the altar, confessional, near the holy water.
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BANDINI VO
I know it's sacrilegious but at
least when I write home I can
truthfully say ‘Dear Mother, I go
to Mass every Sunday.’
Bandini rises and stumbles brushing up against a beautifully dressed. teenaged girl.
BANDINI VO
- I don't have to add ‘so I can
bump into an Aztec princess or
two -’
The girl starts to apologize. Bandini manages an ‘excuse me’.
IN A PEW
Bandini prays.
BANDINI VO
St Teresa, when I was little I
prayed to you for a fountain pen.
You answered my prayer. Anyway I
got a fountain pen - now I need to
meet a girl, a Mexican girl.
Bring her into my life and I'll
write a story, a love story, one
of the greatest of all time -
Under this the sound of the typewriter can be heard surfacing until it too is cut off by the sound of something between a whine and a growl:
ONCE AGAIN
it is Bandini's stomach. And he's holding it, having stopped writing. Bandini shivers. He's stiff, and it's late. He looks out the window at St Paul's clock. It's 3:44.
He goes to brush his teeth. There's pink in the toothbrush and blood in the sink. He doesn't like it. He turns off the light and flops on the cot. In the dark his angry stomach can be heard whining again like a petulant animal. Bandini turns and squirms.
There's suddenly a quiet knock next door. He hears Hellfrick grunt and say something as Hellfrick's door opens and closes. Bandini sits up and looks out the window.
POV WINDOW PALM TREE AND CLOCK
on St Paul's Hotel, bg. It reads 4:07.
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BANDINI
looks at the orange peels, then dresses quickly.
INT HALLWAY
Bandini walks deliberately past Hellfrick's room, hearing Hellfrick and his guest, the clink of bottle on glass.
EXT BUNKER HILL ST (NIGHT)
Under a streetlamp and a palm tree sits the Adohr milk-truck.
Bandini reaches in and seizes two full quart bottles by their necks. They're cool. He presses them to his cheeks, then scurries back up the steps.
BANDINI ON THE STAIRSM
when the toilet flushes. Bandini throws himself against the wall.
The milkman emerges from the bathroom. He scratches his head.
Walks back in the bathroom and retrieves his cap.
Bandini hurriedly takes a few steps back down the stairs and leaps the railing landing ten feet or so below on the vacant lot. He winces with the impact, holds onto and cradles the precious white bottles. A moment later the milkman makes his way down the stairs to his milktruck and takes off. Bandini breathes a sigh of relief.
ON THE DRESSER TABLE
stand the two bottles of milk. They're beautiful, and fat like prosperous people.
BANDINI
looks at them in wonder. He kneels down.
BANDINI
Bless us, oh Lord, and these Thy
gifts which we are about to
receive from Thy most bountiful
hands through the same Christ Our
Lord, Amen.
He finally rises, opens one of the bottles and pours a full glass. He turns to the photo of J.C. Hackmuth on the wall.
BANDINI
To you, Hackmuth! to the future!
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