Author Topic: fourth scene in Morales Inning's Gallery  (Read 1758 times)


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fourth scene in Morales Inning's Gallery
« on: June 13, 2011, 05:56:58 AM »
GORDON EUMANETTE, mid-thirties, tall, dressed stylishly lays on the couch. His face reveals his clinically depressed state.

                                                Some days itís harder, John.
                                                     (a beat)
                                                Sometimes it seems like theyíre not

The psychiatrist, JOHN, late-middle-age man, white. He couldnít care less.

                                                Iíll increase the dosage, Gordon.
                                                OK. Now, where did we leave off?
                                                Oh, right. The dreams.

                                                They werenít dreams, John. I keep
                                                telling you.

                                                Go on, then, Gordon.


A ten-year-old Gordon stands at the bedroom door of a man in his late thirties, his father, ISRAEL. On ordenís face is an awestruck expression.

                                                                 GORDON (V.O.)
                                              It was in my fatherís bedroom where
                                              Iíd see her standing over him as he
                                              worked on his column for the
                                              Holtsville Press, a journal that
                                              focused on political corruption in
                                              City Hall. Popular in the early
                                              part of the Reagan years.

INTERCUT: Israel is at his desk, typing. Standing over him is Senerara, (Sarah in scene#1)in fifties style  womenís business dress. Her attention is sharply focused on the writerís work.

Return to scene.

                                                                  GORDON (V.O.)
                                             Iíd watch her, reading over his shoulder.
                                             There were times sheíd grow ecstatic,
                                             bouncing, clapping, nothing but glee.
                                             Gordenís eyes bulge.

                                                                   GORDON (V.O.)
                                             Iíd watch my father as he would throw
                                             his head back and laugh, like in his words
                                             heíd uncovered some priceless treasure.

On Senerawa with her hands clasped in front of her face, looking up with rapture as Israel throws his head back and laughs.

                                                                   GORDON (V.O.)
                                             One time, I called his name. I wanted to
                                             ask him about the woman. When I spoke,
                                             she and my father looked at me, both with a
                                             smile of unimaginable peace, unimaginable joy.

Israel opens his arms inviting Gordon inside for the embrace. As Gordon walks into the bedroom, Senerawa


John looks at Gordon with a cold, dead expression.

                                              Then, she just disappeared.
                                              You said something about her crying.

                                              That was the dream. That was after my
                                              father was sentenced.

                                              Oh, yes. The day that changed your
                                              life. Care to discuss the details of that?

                                              A woman my father was dating, was found
                                              murdered in her apartment a couple of
                                              doors from us.

John writes in his note pad "poor bastard". He then looks at Gordon with mock sympathy.

                                                                   GORDON (CONTD)
                                              I had spent the night at my auntís house.
                                              The neighbors said they had heard them
                                              arguing earlier that same morning, around
                                              three or so, that my father was accusing
                                              her of sleeping around.

John writes "You poor fool", looks at Gordon and smiles.

                                                                  GORDON (CONTD)
                                              My aunt was dropping me off just as the
                                              police were taking him away. I stayed in
                                              the car while she talked to them.

Strangely, John starts laughing to himself as he looks at Gordon.

                                                                  GORDON (CONTD)
                                              I had begun to hear the details of it while
                                              living with my aunt. In his trial, three of our
                                              neighbors said that they heard a crash before
                                              my father came running out of her apartment.

Itís all John can do to keep a straight face.

                                                                 GORDON (CONTD)
                                              After all the damning testimony from more
                                              so-called friends, the circumstantial evidence,
                                              my fatherís sperm inside of the victim, his
                                              prints on the hammer that killed her, he was,


                                              It was about a year into his sentence when
                                              I first had the dream of the woman crying
                                              as she was crouched down in a corner of his

Insert: Flashback of dream. Senerawa is dressed in black with the veil of her hat covering her face.

                                                                   GORDON (V.O.)
                                              In the dream I remember looking at her, then
                                              at my father sitting at his desk, dressed in
                                              dungarees, and I ask...

                                                           (the child)
                                              Why is she crying, daddy?

                                               Because she knows that, here, she wonít
                                               be able to save me.
Return to scene.

                                              The next morning, my aunt got a call from
                                              the penitentiary saying he was killed the
                                              night before; ambushed by two inmates on
                                              the basketball court.

                                               Oh my.

                                               Rumor has it that the men responsible
                                               had their sentences commuted the
                                               following week, that  the men were
                                               picked up in a limousine. Itís rumored
                                               that the driver was a man who worked
                                               for Mayor Damon Kenneth.

With the same wry smile, John continues looking at him. Thereís a KNOCK on the door.

                                               Come in.

Theresa sticks her head in the room.

                                               Seemed to be lasting a little long,
                                               this time.

                                               We were just winding up. Come on

Theresa strolls in.

                                               Hey, baby.


The men stand. Gordon gives Theresa a kiss on the cheek.

                                              Your boy, here, says the meds arenít
                                              working anymore. I decided to increase
                                              the dosage.

                                              Thanks, John. (a beat) Gordon, baby, the
                                              receptionist is waiting to schedule your follow
                                              up appointment.

Gordon heads for the door. John and Theresa wait until heís out. They then turn and look at each other. The look is villainous.

The receptionist is as rude as they come.

                                             A time youíd prefer?

                                             Late morning would be perfect.

                                             A time youíd prefer?

Gordon retrieves his pocket size notebook and thumbs through it.

                                             Letís see.


Gordon smiles, nervously, as he continues thumbing through his notebook.

                                            Just a minute, please.

John and Theresa stand toe to toe as they whisper.

                                           So, are you sure you want to go through
                                           with this, Theresa? There are other ways.

                                           I donít have time for other ways. John hands
                                           Theresa the proscription.

                                           OK. Have you been keeping the others abreast?

                                           Yeah. Yeah, sure, John. OK? Weíll talk, later.

He kisses her on the forehead. She turns and heads for the door.

Theresa marches towards lobby. Sensing a presence around her, she slows down. She stops at the open bathroom, adjacent to the hallway. She peers inside seeing only darkness. Sheís cautious as she edges nearer.


Theresa hears and seeís nothing. She backs away from the room, now more terrified than ever. Something is terribly wrong. A chill rushes through her core as she turns and practically bolts down the hall to the lobby.

                                                                  THERESA (O.C.)
                                               Come on, Gordon. Letís get out of here.

Now from the dark restroom an image slowly begins to emerge. An apparently naked Senerawa Press steps out into the light.

And she appears fit to kill.

Offline 510bhan

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Re: fourth scene in Morales Inning's Gallery
« Reply #1 on: June 13, 2011, 10:43:27 AM »
Non-script writer here.

Sounds as if Gordon is being nicely manipulated. (Sometimes you swap between Gorden/Gordon) The circumstantial evidence surrounding his father's death is pretty damning.

Has the viewer seen the psychiatrist before or been set up to expect he's basically a sham? Otherwise it seems a bit odd the notes that he makes on his pad.

 :) :) :)


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Re: fourth scene in Morales Inning's Gallery
« Reply #2 on: June 13, 2011, 05:11:45 PM »
Thanks 510bhan, for reading the script. I will be posting more from it in the coming days.