Tài liệu Writing the short film 3th - Part 45 docx

venirs from cheesy midwestern and southern towns, and a small old radio.
Maybe a couple of yellowing photos lying around.
Before the man appears, the light should be very rich in golds and orange
overtones. The pacing is slow, and the film should have a lush, almost
smoky look. After the man appears, the lighting will be mostly for a night
scene. The tones will be deep blues and reds. All the time though, I want the
girls’ white nightgowns to have a milky luminous quality. Other than parts
of the performances, nothing about this film should be very naturalistic.
SLEEPING BEAUTIES
FADE UP—sound of a MOTORCYCLE starting and revving.
FADE DOWN.
FADE UP on TITLES. FADE to black.
FADE UP—overlapping voices of TWO TEENAGE GIRLS.
One cries out.
VOICE
Ouch, that hurts!
Cut to interior BEDROOM, night. IRIS, sixteen years old,
is standing and brushing LUCY’s hair. LUCY is seated in
front of her. They speak to the reflection in the MIRROR
in front of them. IRIS hits the tangles in LUCY’s hair.
LUCY, fifteen years old, winces.
IRIS
I’m sorry, I’m sorry . . . it would help if you
conditioned it.
LUCY
But it makes it look greasy.
IRIS
Not if you use the right kind.
LUCY
I kinda like it this way.
IRIS

I guess you always had the prettiest hair.
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IRIS finishes the last strokes and slightly pats LUCY’s
long hair.
Okay, all done.
LUCY
Tomorrow I’ll do yours.
IRIS
Okay.
LUCY rises from the VANITY TABLE, and both girls
remove their thin SUMMER ROBES. Underneath they are
wearing long, lightly flowered cotton NIGHTGOWNS. IRIS
jumps onto her BED. Meanwhile, LUCY positions a FAN
toward the window and turns it to the “high” setting.
IRIS reaches for the small drawer beneath the NIGHT
TABLE, fishing around and then pulling out a pack of
CIGARETTES and a small ASHTRAY.
LUCY arranges herself cross-legged on the opposite BED
and faces IRIS. They are silent for a while, looking at
each other. IRIS gets up and begins to pace. She lights a
cigarette as if she’s fatigued by the rigors of her day-to-
day routine. Both girls share the cigarette, careful to
exhale toward the window fan.
IRIS
(looking at the CLOCK)
Okay, it’s time.
LUCY
Let’s go.

IRIS
(still pacing)
So we know this: tall, not too tall. And thin. Pale . . .
shouldn’t he be pale?
LUCY
. . . Oh yes, very pale, see-through almost . . .
IRIS
Long, dirty blond hair . . . fine, fine, fine . . .

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LUCY
So fine it falls through your fingers . . . (pause)
. . . Dark eyes . . .
IRIS sits abruptly on the bed, crossing her legs and
facing LUCY. She gestures widely with her cigarette, as
if aggravated.
IRIS
No, I thought we talked about this. His eyes should
be light and clear and spooky . . .
LUCY
But . . .
IRIS
Oh, let’s not argue . . . (pause) . . . We should
figure the rest out.
LUCY raises her eyebrows.
IRIS
His mouth, what about his mouth?
LUCY
The best part . . .

Both girls pause, lost in thought. IRIS begins
tentatively.
IRIS
His lips will be full . . . a sort of wide Iris mouth.
(pause) Right?
LUCY does not reply.
IRIS
You . . . you can’t look at his mouth for too
long . . . It’s almost too dangerous, you know?
LUCY lays on her back and hugs herself as if chilly.
LUCY
Okay, I guess . . . Gosh, we’ve almost finished him.
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IRIS stabs out her cigarette and rests her elbows on her
knees, hands cupping her face.
IRIS
Soon we’ll have to find him.
LUCY
Soon we’ll have to give him a life.
IRIS gets up and wanders around the room, first toward
the window, then to the vanity table. She picks up the
large, ornate HAIRBRUSH, pulls out loose strands, then
sets it down.
IRIS
(while walking)
But he has one . . . all that open road, that huge
cycle . . . the dust flying off his wheels . . .
(looking at her reflection) . . . you and me . . .

(pause, turning to LUCY) . . . he’s true because we
want him to be.
LUCY
(puzzled)
Iris, the time . . .
IRIS
Right, it’s late . . .
Both climb under their covers and get comfortable before
saying anything.
LUCY
Goodnight, Iris.
IRIS
Goodnight, Lucy.
LUCY
I love you.
IRIS
Love you too.

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LUCY
See you in the morning.
IRIS looks at LUCY, then turns off the old LAMP on the
night table.
IRIS
(whispering)
Sweet dreams.
The room is dark. The fan continues to hum, the clock
ticks, and occasionally an insect buzzes against the
screen window. A breeze blows the gauzy CURTAINS.

IRIS and LUCY are holding hands from across their
beds. The MOONLIGHT is thick on their faces.
A POPPING SOUND is heard coming from the window, as
if someone is throwing a pebble at the SCREEN.
CUT to a CLOSE-UP of LUCY and IRIS’s locked fingers as
they fall from each other.
DISSOLVE to a CLOSE-UP of IRIS’s face as she sleeps.
DISSOLVE slowly as IRIS, in a WIDE SHOT, gets out of
bed and goes to LUCY’s side. She rouses LUCY. In groggy
agreement, they walk to the window, standing side by
side and peering out. The breeze is blowing their long
nightgowns as if they’re liquid sheets of light.
LUCY
Look.
IRIS
I know.
On the thick green lawn, three stories below them, is a
MAN leaning against the seat of a beat-up Harley-
Davidson MOTORCYCLE. His hair is long and thin, his
face is pale, his build is lanky.
MAN
(offscreen)
Which one of you girls wanna take a ride?
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LUCY and IRIS stare out at the MAN, then turn to look
at each other. They are dazed.
IRIS
But . . . he’s not finished. It’s too soon . . .

LUCY
Someone has to go down . . .
IRIS
(panicked)
Yes, but we never decided which one of us would
actually . . .
LUCY
I know, I know. (pause) You choose.
IRIS looks out the window. She turns to LUCY and
straightens LUCY’s hair.
IRIS
It’s you . . . You go.
LUCY
You don’t want to ride?
IRIS
No, not tonight . . . You go, and I’ll wait here for
you.
LUCY
(dreamily)
All right.
LUCY lifts the screen window. IRIS helps her out onto the
TRELLIS as if in a trance. The MAN continues to look up
at both of them, humming “Wild Horses” to himself.
LUCY climbs slowly down the trellis. Her nightgown gets
caught in the wood grating; she still moves smoothly and
without hesitation. IRIS closes the screen window and
sits in the LARGE WINDOWSILL, watching the action
below and humming “Wild Horses” softly.

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LUCY walks toward the MAN; CUT to a CLOSE-UP of her
face.
FADE UP on IRIS in VOICE-OVER: “Dirty blond hair-fine,
fine, fine . . .” FADE UP on LUCY in VOICE-OVER: “So
fine it falls through your fingers . . .”
DISSOLVE to a MEDIUM TWO-SHOT as LUCY touches
his hair and lets it fall through her fingers. The MAN
laughs.
CUT to LUCY, looking at the man.
LUCY
Your eyes . . . they’re so dark.
DISSOLVE to a CLOSE-UP of IRIS.
FADE UP on IRIS in VOICE-OVER: “Light and clear and
spooky—we talked about this already.”
IRIS
I was wrong—his eyes are dark.
DISSOLVE to a CLOSE-UP of the MAN as he takes a drag
on his cigarette, exhales slowly, then pulls some stray
tobacco from his tongue and lips.
FADE UP on IRIS in VOICE-OVER, discussing with LUCY:
“Would he smoke Luckies?” “Maybe, yeah . . . ,” etc.
DISSOLVE to IRIS’s POV as LUCY and the MAN walk into
the dark and leave the motorcycle in the middle of the
lawn.
CUT to a CLOSE-UP of IRIS.
IRIS
Wait—where are you going . . . I can’t see you
anymore . . . Lucy, this isn’t fair.
IRIS cries silently.

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