Dark Harbor (1998)
written by Adam Coleman Howard & Justin Lazard
Alan Rickman as David Weinberg
Polly Walker as Alexis Chandler Weinberg
Norman Reedus as Young Man Whom They Couldn't Be Arsed To Name
Transcribed by Wax Jism
I've used the actors' names because it amused me, and I got sick of typing 'Young Man.'
[open on a dark & stormy night. windy road. a car. in the car, ALAN and POLLY]
POLLY: [smoking] Think we're gonna make it?
ALAN: [sneering] I certainly hope so.
POLLY: Well, don't get carried away.
ALAN: I'm not carried away, I'm just trying to make sure that we--
POLLY: Make sure that we live.
ALAN: I don't think doing 65 on Route 1 makes us Bonnie & Clyde.
POLLY: Darling, we could hold up Fort Knox and we wouldn't be Bonnie & Clyde.
ALAN: Just keep your eyes on the road. [snaps] Darling, I mean it, I need your help, here. This is like hydroplaning through the goddamn bayou!
POLLY: [agitated] Don't blame me because you were two hours late, dear, it doesn't become you.
[the car is a large, black Mercedes, I think]
POLLY: What is wrong with you?
ALAN: Nothing. Just watch the road.
POLLY: [spotting something] Slow down.
ALAN: What is it?
[they pass NORMAN, who just passed out by the side of the road]
ALAN: What do you mean, stop? We're gonna miss the boat!
POLLY: No, really, I think I saw something.
ALAN: Saw something? What do you--
POLLY: [raising her voice] DAVID! STOP!
[he pulls the car over and they run to NORMAN, who's lying curled up on the ground]
ALAN: Jesus... Is he alive?
[POLLY reaches out to touch NORMAN's bruised little face]
ALAN: Don't touch him. I think we should just call the police and not get involved.
POLLY: But he needs help!
ALAN: I know, that's why we're calling the police. Trust me.
NORMAN: No cops.
POLLY: You know where you are?
NORMAN: Sort of.
ALAN: What happened to you?
POLLY: Can you move?
ALAN: I'm calling the police.
NORMAN: I said no cops!
ALAN: Listen, We have a boat to catch--
ALAN: Alexis, will you let me handle this? [to NORMAN] We can't help you if you don't let me call the police.
NORMAN: Then don't help me.
[cut to car INT. sullen silence]
POLLY: Would you like a cigarette?
ALAN: Listen, there's nothing in Lincolnville but a couple of payphones and the ferry. Pen Bay hospital is only a few miles from here so why don't I just swing by there. I don't really recommend you get left here. [?]
NORMAN: Nah, that's all right.
ALAN: No doctors, either? Next thing you know there'll be no lawyers and we'll all be out of business.
NORMAN: What time does your boat leave?
ALAN: 28 minutes.
NORMAN: How far is it?
ALAN: 'Bout thirty miles.
NORMAN: Cuttin' it kinda close, huh?
ALAN: Well, we wouldn't want to set off any radar guns, now would we?
[POLLY looks suspicious! As well she should!]
POLLY: Maybe you should pick it up a bit, dear.
[they totally miss the ferry. bwah. standing on the pier, looking forlorn]
NORMAN: Sorry. [not sounding terribly sorry, really]
POLLY: It's not your fault.
ALAN: So long, then.
NORMAN: [a bit breathy & sad] Thanks for the lift.
POLLY: Are you sure you'll you be okay?
NORMAN: I'll survive.
ALAN: Okay, then. Bye now.
POLLY: Wait. [digs in her purse]
ALAN: He said he'll survive.
[POLLY offers NORMAN some money]
NORMAN: No, really...
POLLY: Please, just take it. [NORMAN does.] Be careful.
[they shake hands. ALAN sneers]
NORMAN: See you around. [leaves]
ALAN: I suggest you scrub that hand with ammonia as soon as possible.
POLLY: Why? You want to hold it?
[cut to INT. the Dockside Inn. think pink flower-patterned schintz. a lot of it]
POLLY: Oh, don't be such a snob. I think it's sweet.
ALAN: Yeah, so are circus dwarves. [sigh] Listen, I'm gonna try and rustle up something edible. Any requests?
POLLY: I think I saw some champagne and caviar back in the Coke machine.
ALAN: Ha ha. What do you want?
POLLY: Surprise me.
[cut to POLLY in shower, eerie music. ahahah]
[she's blowdrying her hair and ALAN creeps up on her]
POLLY: Oh my god, you scared me! Any luck?
ALAN: [holds up four wee minibar bottles]
[cut to our heroes in bed, boozing it up & watching telly. rather, POLLY is boozing, ALAN is watching telly]
POLLY: Remember when the ceiling collapsed on the Moustique?
ALAN: How could I forget?
POLLY: And we had to sleep out in the gazebo.
ALAN: All I remember is that goddamn scorpion going for my jugular.
POLLY: Aw, it was a grasshopper and it grazed your foot.
[ALAN watches telly. POLLY turns it off]
ALAN: What the hell are you doing? I was watching that!
[POLLY wants to get down. ALAN looks only marginally impressed]
ALAN: Two shots and you turn into Mae West.
[smooching, only then ALAN 'remembers something']
POLLY: What's wrong?
ALAN: I just-- Oh, Christ, we forgot about the food on the dock.
POLLY: You can't ring Mike and Mary at this hour!
ALAN: I'm not gonna let two hundred dollars worth of Scotch salmon sit out all night. [POLLY flounces off. ALAN makes a call] Uh, Mike? We missed the last boat, so if it's not too much trouble, could you buzz over and grab the groceries? ...Oh? Great. So it works out either way. Go back to sleep. Night. [to POLLY] Well, they never made the drop-- What are you doing?
POLLY: I'm going to sleep.
ALAN: With your coat on?
POLLY: Good night.
ALAN: Okay. Good night.
[cut to next morning, on the ferry]
POLLY: I wonder what happened to that guy.
ALAN: What guy?
POLLY: From last night on Road 1.
ALAN: Oh, right, Mr No Cops. What about him?
POLLY: Nothing, I'm just wondering.
ALAN: Wondering what?
POLLY: If he's all right, that's all.
[POLLY attempts to put up her hair in a ponytail, but manages to shoot the scrunchy right into ALAN's eye]
ALAN: Hey! That's not funny!
POLLY: [giggling] I know, sorry, but--
ALAN: But nothing, that hurt. Ha ha ha, I have retinal damage, isn't that hilarious? I'm gonna get myself a cup of coffee before you have an aneurysm.
POLLY: Boat coffee, living on the edge.
ALAN: Yeah, that's me, Wild Dave.
[tense music as ALAN goes and gets some coffee and we see NORMAN curled up in a nook on the boat! he gets up and maybe passes ALAN up in the coffee room. or does he?]
[cut to pier]
POLLY: Did you remember to bring the camera?
ALAN: I don't know if I did.
POLLY: I think so.
ALAN: You're right. I did.
[cut to the island. snazzy summer retreat. POLLY spots a large mushroom and starts fondling it]
ALAN: [sneering] It's gonna be a whole thing? I'll see you at the house. It's just a mushroom.
[cut to our heroes eating outside]
ALAN: Guess who I saw on the ferry deck?
ALAN: Jack Hoffman. Fizzling with lust for some teenage bimbo in broad daylight. Not a surprise.
POLLY: Poor Margo.
ALAN: Poor bimbo.
POLLY: Would you be that open?
ALAN: I don't know.
POLLY: Wanna have supper at the Blue Heron tonight?
POLLY: Yeah. Thought it may be fun to maybe... dance a bit.
ALAN: Naaah, let's just have a quiet night.
POLLY: You sure?
ALAN: Yeah, I don't know. I'm just not...
POLLY: You're not what?
ALAN: In the mood.
POLLY: Okay. [drinks wine petulantly] Another quiet one.
POLLY: Well, what do you want then?
ALAN: For dinner?
POLLY: For dinner.
ALAN: How about lobster?
POLLY: Lobster's fine.
ALAN: I'll have Mike swing over.
POLLY: No, I'll go.
ALAN: You sure?
POLLY: Yeah, I could use a ride. [stalks off]
[cut to pier: ALAN sneaks up on POLLY, while wearing a very gay sailor's cap]
ALAN: Come on, baby, Wild Dave is taking you for a ride.
POLLY: [gasp, giggle] What in God's name--
ALAN: Don't ask questions, go with the flow!
POLLY: Where are we going?
ALAN: Let me give you a hint: Where did you agree to become Mrs David Weinberg?
POLLY: Are you serious?
ALAN: Next stop, Twin Bards! Here we come!
POLLY: What about the lobsters?
ALAN: We don't need them. [and it is revealed that he's packed a picnic basket]
POLLY: [all melty now] Oh, David...
ALAN: Entrez le bateau, mon amour.
[cut to their neato yacht]
[the gay sailor hat is now on POLLY]
POLLY: What's wrong?
ALAN: Take the tiller. [gets out some binoculars for some... navigatin']
POLLY: How does it look? ... Baby, it looks pretty tricky out there, why don't we just head back?
ALAN: Gimme a reading.
POLLY: 087... 089... 086-- it keeps moving.
ALAN: Take it to 100 and hold the course.
POLLY: Why don't we just head back, we can beat it at [something]
ALAN: Come on, where's your sense of adventure? There they are!
POLLY: You've got the Twins?
ALAN: Edge her four degrees to port and we're dead on.
ALAN: Steady. Hold her right there.
POLLY: [glowers] I hope you know what you're doing cause I'm not impressed.
ALAN: Honey, have a little faith.
[they promptly run to ground and the picnic basket goes overboard, POLLY falls over, ALAN tumbles into the cabin]
ALAN: You okay?
POLLY: I'm fine. I was looking, I just didn't see anything coming.
ALAN: Don't worry.
POLLY: Get the flares.
ALAN: The flares, right. We don't have any flares.
ALAN: Fourth of July, remember?
POLLY: You didn't replace them?
ALAN: Well, I didn't think we'd--
POLLY: Exactly, you didn't think, now check the hull to make sure we're not sinking!
[they take the dinghy to the shore. looks cold & wet]
ALAN: Wait here, I'm gonna check.
POLLY: Check what? We don't know where we are!
ALAN: [pointing] Well, we're on land unless that's a UFO.
POLLY: I'll come with you.
ALAN: No, stay here and watch the boat.
[he stomps off towards a wee fire. the ominous cello of thickening plot plays]
[POLLY watches him vanish into the fog]
[someone else comes out of the fog! it's NORMAN!]
POLLY: [screaming] DAVID!
[ALAN grabs a piece of wood from the fire and runs towards the camera. poor NORMAN. fade to black]
ALAN: [vo] How was I supposed to know it was him again? Is he stalking us?
POLLY: [vo] You think so?
[fade in, NORMAN's POV. POLLY & ALAN are crouched over him]
POLLY: [relieved] Thank God.
NORMAN: [looking decidedly worse for wear] Glad to see you guys are happy.
POLLY: No, we're not! We're just glad that you're all right!
ALAN: I didn't know it was you, I just heard my wife screaming, it was instinct.
NORMAN: I've been seeing a lot of instinct.
[they help him up. cut to night by the fire]
POLLY: [bringing firewood] This'll hold us til it lifts.
NORMAN: When will that be?
POLLY: They say about Maine, if you don't like the weather, wait five minutes.
[NORMAN whips out some soggy bread that he's been hoarding. offers]
ALAN: No, we're fine, thank you.
NORMAN: Your wife looks hungry.
POLLY: Thank you. So, how did you end up out here? If you don't mind me asking.
NORMAN: Well, I couldn't find a place to settle so I ended up crashing on the ferry but before you know it she was moving and when we landed I just started roaming around the... the... town--
NORMAN: Right. And I ended up finding-- er, I sort of borrowed a little boat.
NORMAN: He really is a lawyer, isn't he?
POLLY: Well, we get the Harvard Law Review.
NORMAN: Well, anyway, so I was just rowing along, sort of zoning out a bit and all of a sudden the sun went off like a light and I banged into this place, groped up past all these screaming seals. And that's when I heard 'hello, hello?'
NORMAN: Yeah. It's awesome.
POLLY: My God, honey, this must be--
ALAN: Seal Rock, no shit.
POLLY: Well, excuse me, Captain Compass, but I'm not the one who veered off course.
ALAN: I didn't exactly have a radar, now did I?
NORMAN: [gets out his pack of tobacco] Want one?
ALAN: She doesn't smoke those. [NORMAN rolls] So, what exactly is it that you do?
ALAN: What do you do? To support yourself.
NORMAN: Oh. Nothin' much.
ALAN: Is it a full time occupation?
NORMAN: Yeah, I guess you could say that.
ALAN: Let's see. No cops, no home, no job, no nothing. You should run for president in 2000, the country could start afresh.
[they're attempting to float the boat. NORMAN & POLLY are hanging from the mast. ALAN is bossing them around]
ALAN: That's it, further out! She's almost free, keep swinging!
[NORMAN & POLLY fall into the water]
[cut to a fire. home, sweet home]
NORMAN: [vo] Guess you're probably wondering about the road last night.
POLLY: No, not really. I mean, David was a little curious...
NORMAN: It's okay. It's just, see, sometimes people sort of catch you when you're down and try to take advantage of you. And when they find out that they can't, they make you pay.
ALAN: [offscreen] Honey!
ALAN: Where's the sugar?
POLLY: Where it always is.
ALAN: Oh, right.
NORMAN: You've a beautiful home here, Mr Weinberg.
ALAN: Right. It's not mine, exactly.
POLLY: My great grandfather built it.
NORMAN: It's beautiful.
ALAN: [bringing hot beverages] Hot hot--
POLLY: Thanks, honey.
ALAN: You earned it.
NORMAN: I just want you guys to know how much I appreciate this. It's been a long time since I've been inside.
POLLY: It's our pleasure.
ALAN: A warm shower never hurt anyone. [yawns] Another day, another day. [POLLY stokes the fire] Let it die. I'm beat. How about you, honey, are you tired?
POLLY: Yes, dear, I'm tired.
ALAN: You don't have to be.
POLLY. I know, sweetheart, but I am. I'm exhausted.
[they find NORMAN has conked out in his corner of the couch. aww]
[David moves to wake him up]
POLLY: No, let him sleep.
ALAN: What do you mean, let him sleep? He's not supposed to sleep over.
POLLY: I know, but he fell asleep!
ALAN: That's what sleeping over is, falling asleep.
POLLY: Oh, come on, David, you can't throw him out in the cold. Where's he gonna go?
ALAN: He lives on roadsides! What would people say if they knew who we have here?
POLLY: Are you referring to the paranoid schizophrenic standing in front of me or our houseguest?
ALAN: I offer a quick shower and now we're harbouring fugitives?
POLLY: Yes, fugitives who offer you bread & cheese after you smash their head in! Besides, if you're so afraid of him why did you drag him back here in the first place?
ALAN: Well, what was I supposed to do, leave him soaking wet and stranded after he helped us--
POLLY: Exactly! Helped us!
ALAN: Oh, right, now I'm Mr Bad Guy.
POLLY: You're not Mr anything. In fact, do what you want, I'm going to bed, I'm tired. [stalks off]
[ALAN looks at sleeping NORMAN. aww]
[cut to handheld shot of stairs, ominous horror movie unsteadiness of doom continues through the house , pauses on ticking clock (3pm), goes towards bedroom door. here's POLLY, sneaking out, carrying a blanket!]
[she goes down to the livingroom and stares at sleeping NORMAN. he opens his eyes]
NORMAN: [sleep-rough voice] You want me to go, right?
POLLY: No, not at all, I just couldn't sleep and I thought you might need a blanket. [holds out blanket. it's red. I'm sure that means something]
NORMAN: Thanks. Wanna have a seat? [she sits down and he whips out his rolls and starts rolling. let me just point out that he's all splayed out on that damn couch in a way that-- nevermind] Can I ask you a question?
NORMAN: Do I make you nervous?
POLLY: No, not at all.
NORMAN: Are you sure?
POLLY: [holds up her hand with the thumb & index about an inch apart]
NORMAN: [pushes the fingers apart as far as they'll go. now POLLY does look nervous. NORMAN licks his cigarette paper in a rather suggestive way and stares at her. lights up]
POLLY: Put it out. [NORMAN flicks the cigarette into the stocked fireplace, which inexplicably bursts into flame. NORMAN touches POLLY's face. she's crying] Who do you think you are?
NORMAN: You know who I am. [she slaps his face and he takes off his robe. underneath he's wearing a black knit sweater with the letter Y in white across the chest. wtf? this is probably some big symbolic thing I'm totally missing. extreme closeup of NORMAN's bruised & malevolent eyes]
POLLY: What are you doing here?
NORMAN: I never left.
POLLY: Take off my boots. [and lo, she's wearing high black lace-up fuck-me-hard-and-long boots. she lifts one leg onto the sofa]
[she turns around and there's ALAN. looking cranky and wielding an axe! he swings it and--]
[POLLY wakes up with a gasp. it was all a bad dream! ahahahhahahahaha!]
[cut to kitchen. morning sun. NORMAN is leaning against a counter, drinking coffee, making smoke rings and looking right at home]
[enter ALAN, looking spritely. he skips down the stairs and stops in the kitchen door, leaning against the jamb rather coquettishly]
ALAN: You're up. [he hands NORMAN an ashtray and NORMAN does a sort of sleight-of-hand gig where he pulls his cigarette from ALAN's ear. v/ familiar! v/ suspicious, right? ALAN almost-smiles] Clever.
[enter POLLY, wearing a gorgeous, red dress of sexy sexiness]
POLLY: Good morning, gentlemen. [ALAN moves quickly away from NORMAN. hahaha]
NORMAN: Sorry about dozing off like that last night.
POLLY: Don't be silly. How's your head?
NORMAN: I'll survive. Thanks for the blanket, by the way.
ALAN: You're welcome.
POLLY: [looks v/ surprised]
ALAN: I thought you might be cold.
NORMAN: [in total sex voice] I was. Thanks.
POLLY: [nervously] How sweet of you. [awkward smiles all around] Are you hungry?
NORMAN: I already ate. I hope that's okay.
POLLY: Of course. [she tries the phone, and NORMAN goes and pours coffee into mugs. he's very at home in the kitchen] Oh, great, the phone's dead.
ALAN: Probably the storm, give it a few. [exit POLLY]
NORMAN: [hands ALAN a cup of coffee and a packet of sweetener. yells, after POLLY] Sugar?
POLLY: Two spoons. [louder] Oh my God!
[the lads skip out the door and behold! there's a lovely spread of breakfast put out on the table on the porch/sitting room/whatever]
POLLY: David, it looks amazing! Wow.
ALAN: Not bad. Not bad at all.
POLLY: If you just say so yourself.
ALAN: [looks at NORMAN] A man of hidden talents.
POLLY: You did this?
NORMAN: [shrugging] Yeah, I just wanted to say thank you.
[cut to the threesome seated & masticating. POLLY is in high spirits, slurping champagne & giggling]
POLLY: So, anyway, after I weaseled out of the vodka & Santa Clause fiasko at Cheltenham, I show up at Yale thinking, okay, time to crack down blah blah blah, but of course tragedy struck before I'd even unpacked my bags. I had the grave misfortune of being struck down by the most deadly pair of blue eyes God ever had the audacity to create. He was a junior from El Paso.
NORMAN: A Texas boy at Yale.
POLLY: Yeah, who had the bad habit of stealing horses from the polo stables at four am in the morning and sneaking into my window with homemade waffles and bottles of Wild Turkey. He was nuts. [she looks at ALAN, who looks less than taken with this trip down memory lane]
NORMAN: So whatever happened to him?
POLLY: My mother scared him off and he married a Du Pont.
NORMAN: What's a Du Pont?
POLLY: Oh, just an obsolete tribe from Delaware. What about you, you ever been in love?
NORMAN: No, not in any sense of the word. [and he quickly cuts his eyes to ALAN, slightly guiltily. ALAN looks resigned. there's an understanding here, you know]
POLLY: Ahh, this was so good.
NORMAN: I'm glad you liked it.
POLLY: I liked it, and this will be a good month.
ALAN: [snort] A month is a long time.
POLLY: I know.
NORMAN: So, uh, are you two going across anytime soon?
NORMAN: The water. To the ferry.
ALAN: I hope you don't think you're leaving, do you.
NORMAN: Yeah... uh, er.
ALAN: Oh. Sorry, you're must not know the rule. [NORMAN looks confused] You didn't tell him about the rule, honey. [POLLY also looks confused]
NORMAN: What rule?
ALAN: If you come into my house and do what you did this morning then you have to accept the following challenge: delay your departure until this evening so that I may match this formidable feast with a modest meal of my own. The victor to be determined by eminent culinary critic Alexis Chandler Weinberg, whose impeccable taste has only grown more precise and unforgiving over the years.
POLLY: [going along] Rules are rules.
[cut to the lawn, where ALAN and NORMAN are now playing badminton. NORMAN is taking it very easy, smoke dangling from his mouth. ALAN is putting in a bit more effort. the chirpy flute of jolly summer fun plays. POLLY watches]
ALAN: Nine! Serving two.
NORMAN: [holds up a thumb and smirks around his cig and then promptly fucks up]
ALAN: You gotta trust me, you don't have a prayer if you let me get under it like that.
NORMAN: [throws his cig in the grass]
ALAN: You'll get that later, right.
NORMAN: [smirks and makes an OK sign]
ALAN: [struts] Game point!
NORMAN: [manages to dispatch the featherball into a swamp nearby. he sucks at this game]
NORMAN: I'm sorry, I'll get it.
ALAN: Be my guest.
POLLY: [pointing] See that pretty green stuff? Poison ivy.
NORMAN: Aaah, clever.
POLLY: Cowardly's more like it.
ALAN: All right, all right, put the knives away. I'll get the goddamn birdie.
[cut to a shirtless ALAN getting hosed down by NORMAN & scrubbed by POLLY. it's a threeway!]
ALAN: Easy! Easy!
POLLY: Come on, be a man!
ALAN: It's like a goddamn brillo pad, you be a man!
[cut to POLLY sunbathing topless, smoking & reading. ALAN is working on his laptop and NORMAN is sitting on a table, staring at them both]
POLLY: Put some cream on my back.
ALAN: In a minute.
[NORMAN gets up and rubs cream on POLLY's back. ALAN checks out his ass. POLLY looks surprised first, but not for long]
[cut to INT house, where ALAN is getting out his golfing bag]
POLLY: What do you think you're doing?
ALAN: I'm going to play golf, what's it look like.
POLLY: Well, thanks for warning me.
ALAN: I told you last week. Where the hell's my glove?
POLLY: No you didn't.
ALAN: Well, actually I did. Larry Cohen has Lasker teed up for me at the first hole, so I don't have time to play Alzheimer's poker with you.
POLLY: Oh, the famous Lasker deal.
ALAN: The one and only.
POLLY: What's it been now, sweetheart? Two years?
ALAN: Well, yeah, someone has to do the dirty work.
POLLY: Don't embarrass yourself, David.
ALAN: I think you're projecting. Listen, I'll get the lobsters, why don't you dig up some steamers and please don't forget the mushrooms. Where's whatsisname, by the way, still zoned out in the hammock? Hm, well. Have him run a comb through his hair, Larry might stop by for a Scotch after golf. And put on some clothes, will you.
POLLY: [icily] Yes, dear.
ALAN: [hesitantly] I love you. [exit]
[cut to POLLY walking up to find the hammock empty. she finds a piece of paper by it, but leaves it there. walks into the shed and finds NORMAN conked out on the bed. she pulls down the blinds and deliberately messes with one so it flaps up with a bang and NORMAN wakes with a start and his folder with lots more papers falls to the floor]
POLLY: [not at all sorry] Sorry.
NORMAN: [shuffling up the papers] Sorry, I just came in here to shut my eyes for a while, if that's all right...
POLLY: All right, I didn't mean to wake you, I was just--
NORMAN: No... It's okay. What time is it anyway?
POLLY: 'Bout three.
NORMAN: Where's, uh...
POLLY: David, he's playing golf. [she spots a stray piece of paper] You might have left one of these by the hammock as well.
NORMAN: I'll pick it up later.
POLLY: Looks like quite a collection.
NORMAN: Yeah, yeah, every once in a while I try to float something out there, you know.
POLLY: Are you a writer?
NORMAN: Nah, I wouldn't go that far.
POLLY: Mind if I take a peek? I mean, only if you don't mind.
[He hands her the folder and she sits down next to him to read. he takes out his smokes]
POLLY: But why are all these in different handwritings?
NORMAN: Cause different people wrote them.
POLLY: But I thought you said--
NORMAN: No, the words are mine, I just... I just don't write them myself.
POLLY: Oh. Mind if I ask why?
NORMAN: Cause I never really learned how, so...
[cut to outside. POLLY is walking around reading and NORMAN follows her]
POLLY: That's very funny. I hope the transcriber wasn't a nun.
NORMAN: I doubt it. Check the bottom corner.
POLLY: Sandy Diamond?
NORMAN: Sandy... Oh, Randy, he ran a scuba clinic in Des Moines.
POLLY: A scuba clinic in Des Moines.
NORMAN: You should have seen the ashram in Vegas. [POLLY throws a cigarette into a bush] You're gonna get that later, right. [POLLY makes the OK sign]
[cut to INT house. They enter & walk around the livingroom full of strange old things]
POLLY: Can I get you something? Are you hungry?
NORMAN: No thanks.
POLLY: Well, if you need anything, just let me know. [she sits down]
NORMAN: [picks up a photo of ALAN & POLLY]
POLLY: That's our honeymoon in Capri, I look awful.
NORMAN: [touches a large rocking horse]
POLLY: We bought that from a street [something] in Prague, he said it belonged to Mussolini.
NORMAN: [wanders around, plinks on the grand piano, snoops]
POLLY: My dad shot that in Kenya. [NORMAN has found a rhino horn]
NORMAN: [finds a liquor cabinet and picks out a bottle of Scotch] Where's this from? [he helps himself to some. POLLY looks a bit startled] You don't mind, do you?
POLLY: No, not at all. Help yourself.
NORMAN: [approaches her slowly, bottle in hand, while the tingly music of sexual tension plays] Want some?
POLLY: Sure, just a touch.
[cut to POLLY sitting on Mussolini's rocking horse, taking slugs straight from the bottle]
POLLY: So, anyway, Clarice dragged me to [somewhere] to pick up all my new boarding school stuff, and I absolutely fall in love with these horrid red pumps.
NORMAN: [on the couch] Nine years old?
POLLY: Ten, thankyouverymuch. So, anyway, the big day comes and I'm all packed up waiting in the car to go to the airport to pick up mummy who had a connecting flight from Munich to get me off to school before lunch, when all of a sudden, Lulu starts reading the Bible to me.
NORMAN: Who's Lulu?
POLLY: The new nanny. Clarice got fired the week before that.
POLLY: I don't know, something or other... she drank. Anyway, when we got to the airport, I was so excited I ran like a madman to meet mummy at the gate but instead of hugs and kisses all I got was a dead cold glare. [to NORMAN's incomprehension] Not a big fan of the red pumps. [NORMAN keeps staring] What?
[cut to outside. POLLY is running, screaming her head off. NORMAN is chasing her with a rake & the whiskey bottle]
NORMAN: You're it!
POLLY: Aagh, I can't move!
NORMAN: I'm sorry, are you all right?
POLLY: You better be, you're it.
[cut to POLLY swinging, NORMAN pushing her]
POLLY: Push! Harder! [ahahah]
[cut to CU of POLLY wearing a cowboy hat and raising a gun. NORMAN is holding up his hand and drinking the last of the whiskey]
POLLY: Hold it right there, pardner.
NORMAN: [drops the bottle]
POLLY: My name is Tex, what's yours?
NORMAN: [finds a bright red silk robe] Wilma.
POLLY: That's funny. You don't look like a Wilma to me.
NORMAN: Oh yeah? Who do I look like?
POLLY: I think you're more... like a Marilyn. [puts big platinum wig on his head]
NORMAN: A'ight, you got me.
POLLY: Yeah, I think I got you.
NORMAN: I got you too.
POLLY: Oh yeah? And how's that, Miss Monroe?
NORMAN: Your name's not Tex.
POLLY: It's not? What is it, then?
NORMAN: [wrapping a chiffon scarf around his neck] Jack.
NORMAN: [sings in breathy little Marilyn voice] Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday Mr President, happy birthday to you. [blows kiss]
[cut to NORMAN moping on the wicker sofa on the porch. POLLY comes out with a basket, wearing these ridiculous denim overalls]
POLLY: Ready? [no reaction from NORMAN, he must be halfway through remembering a particularly good blowjob or something] Helloooo, Earth to Mars!
NORMAN: I'm sorry. Um, can I ask you a favour?
POLLY: What is it?
NORMAN: I got a little something on the tip of my tongue, so, um, do you mind... helping me out before it slips away?
POLLY: Okay. [goes to get pen & paper] Shoot.
NORMAN: It's funny, your worst nightmare--
POLLY: Is this it? Sorry.
NORMAN: It's funny, your worst nightmare always seems so far away. Then all of a sudden, there it is, like a monstrous tidal wave. You try to escape but you can't. You just struggle, struggle, struggle, your desperate cries unheard. Then something strange happens. You stop struggling, your cries take flight. You forget you're drowning.
POLLY: [looking suspicious. as well she should!]
NORMAN: Your John Hancock, then we can go. [she signs. du dun du dun]
[cut to wide shot of the two walking down a rocky beach]
NORMAN: How'd you and David meet each other, anyway?
POLLY: I lost my mind a few years after college, and he saved me.
NORMAN: Sounds like a good deal.
[cut to forest where they're hunting shrooms. waily theme music of attempted murder plays]
POLLY: [vo] I hope we get lucky.
NORMAN: [vo] So where are they?
POLLY: [vo] Be patient. It's not so simple: when they are there, they're hidden. When they're not, you think they are. They're clever, they're fickle. They feel you coming, then they hide.
NORMAN: Hey! [holds up shroom]
POLLY: Not bad. But guess what?
POLLY: You killed it. You have to break it off above the bulb, otherwise no more can grow. But you have great instincts: it's a chanterelle, David's gonna love you. [NORMAN looks smug and wanders off. POLLY picks more mushrooms]
NORMAN: [vo] I'm in love with you. I mean, I know it's kinda sudden. [revealed that he's talking to a small mushroom he just found a ways off] But when I laid my eyes on you, well, it's just all over. [he is about to eat the shroom]
POLLY: I wouldn't do that if I were you. [she takes his shroom] The Amanitus muscarius is a rare coastal mushroom originally used by the Iroquois to combat red malaria. It also happens to be a highly potent aphrodisiac. And then there's its infamous sister, the Amanita rubenica, affectionately known as Purple Julie. It will kill you in less than a minute. Guess what they both have in common?
POLLY: They're twins! [holds up identical mushrooms. sex and death, yaddayadda, drop another anvil on mah toe, willya]
NORMAN: How you do tell them apart?
POLLY: Purple Julie, purple poison. [it's indeed purple] The Amanitus muscarius. [which is innocently white]
NORMAN: The aphrodisiac?
NORMAN: How do you know so much about mushrooms?
POLLY: My father. He used to drag me out here from when I could walk and go on and on about their differences, their histories, their flavours, their powers, everything. You should have seen his eyes when he talked about them, it was pure magic.
NORMAN: Does he still come out here?
POLLY: He committed suicide when I was eight.
NORMAN: I'm sorry.
POLLY: Don't be, he's better off.
NORMAN: What about your mother?
POLLY: We don't speak.
NORMAN: Why's that?
POLLY: She hates David.
NORMAN: [ruminates for two seconds, then takes the mushroom sisters from her hands and hides them behind his back] Pick a hand.
POLLY: [touches his right shoulder] What are you doing?
NORMAN: [shows the mushroom she picked is white. then he sleight-of-hands a bit and it's the purple one, only she can't see that. he's about to feed her the mushroom]
NORMAN: I am behaving. [he eats a mushroom. one assumes it's the aphrodisiac one cause he doesn't die. he offers the other one to POLLY]
POLLY: [touches his face] No.
NORMAN: [kisses her palm, still offering the mushroom. this is a really weird scene. mushroom sex? wtf]
[they kiss for a while, rather passionately, until POLLY freaks out and gets up quickly]
POLLY: Let's go, it's getting late. Are you coming? Well, I have to be getting back.
[cut to livingroom. NORMAN & POLLY sit in the easy chairs by the fireplace. NORMAN whittles. POLLY stares]
NORMAN: I just wanna tell you, I... I just sort of--
POLLY: [curtly] Apology accepted. [she holds out her hand and he gets up to shake it]
ALAN: [vo] Hello?
POLLY: [quickly letting go] Hi, honey! How'd it go with Lasker, you've been gone forever. David, are you okay?
[ALAN is looking quite shocked. NORMAN tries to play invisible]
ALAN: Yeah, um, it's just... I guess I had some bad clams.
POLLY: You had clams? I thought I was supposed to get clams for dinner. And why did you only get two lobsters? [crikey, ALAN, were you going to celebrate over her dead body with a lobster dinner? that's some nerve]
ALAN: [thinking on his feet] Well, it's... because, uh, I didn't think that I'd want any dinner. Because of the clams.
POLLY: Oh, right. What happened to Larry, he didn't come back with you?
ALAN: No. He said to say hi. Lasker, too. I should sit down. [he sits down and POLLY fusses over him] Honey, I think I need a compress.
POLLY: [to NORMAN] Would you go into the kitchen and get me a wet cloth.
ALAN: Lex, he doesn't know where anything is!
POLLY: Oh, I'll go. [exit]
NORMAN: You've got a very loyal wife.
POLLY: [back with a cloth] Listen, I don't think tonight is such a good night for this food showdown, so let me put him to bed and I'll run you across to Haroldsberg, okay?
ALAN: She may be right. We should probably take a raincheck.
NORMAN: Okay, but I gotta say I was kind of looking forward to the challenge.
ALAN: You know what, so was I. In fact, I think with a warm shower and a cold drink I'll be right back into the swing of things.
POLLY: Baby, I really don't think...
ALAN: Exactly. Don't think. Drink. [drinks]
[cut to dinner. NORMAN is staring. POLLY is cheerfully masticating. ALAN is moping. the chipper chamber music of anticipation plays]
POLLY: It's amazing, David.
ALAN: So did you two have a good day?
POLLY: I gave him the grand tour.
ALAN: How did you like it?
NORMAN: It's nice.
[cut to front door. NORMAN is leaving]
POLLY: [shakes his hand] Good luck.
NORMAN: Thanks for everything.
ALAN: See you in twenty.
POLLY: Call the phone company, it's still out.
NORMAN: Here, this is for you. [holds out wee wooden heart he carved]
ALAN: [dryly] How about that.
POLLY: How thoughtful!
NORMAN: I made it here.
POLLY: It's very nice, thank you.
[exit NORMAN & ALAN. POLLY walks up to the lit fireplace and throws the wooden heart in]
[cut to POLLY snoozing in the chair. she wakes up to find NORMAN staring at her]
POLLY: What are you doing back here? Is everything okay, where's David?
NORMAN: We got in a little-- He's outside, closing up or something.
POLLY: You got in a little what?
NORMAN: Jam. Boat died. We had to paddle back.
POLLY: I'm sorry. I'll be right back, do you need anything?
NORMAN: A seaplane would be nice.
[cut to shed where ALAN is poking through a crate. he's holding the Marilyn outfit. he finds the empty bottle of Scotch. he leaves and meets POLLY outside]
POLLY: There you are, you poor thing. What happened?
ALAN: Boat conked out halfway there, it was a nightmare.
POLLY: I know, I heard.
ALAN: Did you?
POLLY: Yes, I did.
ALAN: So I guess James Dean is going to be making himself at home again?
POLLY: We could always ask Mike and Mary...
ALAN: What are we gonna do, scream across the bay?
POLLY: The phones...
ALAN: Right, the phones.
POLLY: Why is this all my fault, David? You think I want him here?
ALAN: All right, do you?
ALAN: That makes two of us!
[cut to NORMAN, sitting in the sofa, smoking]
ALAN: You know, I look at you, and it's funny, you don't remind me of myself exactly. But you remind me of a certain time; I remember what I used to think love was then. That it was fireworks... and explosions... But it's not. It's time. To go through the seasons together; through change, through the ups and downs. To be able to look your beloved in the eye and say: 'we did that together as one. We chose each other above all else.' That's love. It's unexplainable. It's a secret that can only be known once you've done the time.
[cut to upstairs. POLLY in bed, ALAN brushing teeth]
POLLY: Nice what you said downstairs.
ALAN: I meant it. What a weekend!
POLLY: You're telling me.
ALAN: Sorry I left you alone today.
POLLY: Don't worry.
ALAN: So everything was okay?
POLLY: Yeah. You know.
ALAN: You weren't bored or anything?
POLLY: Oh, not especially. I mean, I wasn't... not bored. I'm glad you got to do what you wanted.
ALAN: Huh. As long as you weren't bored.
[cut to ALAN watching POLLY sleep]
[cut to ALAN waking up in an empty bed, poison ivy rash on his face]
[cut to POLLY eating breakfast in the kitchen. enter ALAN]
POLLY: Morning, sweetheart.
ALAN: Morning. [he leans in to kiss her, but she dodges away] What's wrong?
POLLY: Look in the mirror.
POLLY: Do you wanna put some cream on it?
ALAN: No. How long have you been up?
POLLY: About an hour.
ALAN: Are you ready?
POLLY: Almost. Are you? [she looks at the watch on his wrist] We've got over an hour.
ALAN: Where's your watch?
POLLY: I'm not wearing it.
ALAN: You always wear it.
POLLY: No, not today.
ALAN: So, where's our little friend?
POLLY: Outside, I think.
ALAN: I better check on the boat.
POLLY: It's done.
ALAN: What do you mean it's done?
POLLY: He did it. This morning.
POLLY: He said it was a loose spark. Speak of the devil.
[enter NORMAN, shirtless and tatted and mmmmh]
NORMAN: Morning, David.
POLLY: It'll be ready in a minute.
ALAN: What'll be ready?
NORMAN: My shirt.
POLLY: His shirt. It was still wet this morning.
ALAN: Don't you have another one?
POLLY: [to ALAN, who's scratching] Don't, it's going to spread.
ALAN: Where else can it spread?
POLLY: I'll just go and see if your shirt's ready. [exit]
NORMAN: [whispers] I like your face. Your watch.
ALAN: Alexis gave it to me.
NORMAN: Oh, and we fixed the phone, by the way. Alexis and me.
ALAN: Oh, yeah, when?
NORMAN: This morning. She woke me up and asked me to hold two wires together while she taped them.
ALAN: Oh, any calls?
[enter POLLY with NORMAN's t-shirt]
ALAN: I hear you're quite the mechanic.
POLLY: Oh, it's nothing, it's just a cable cut out back. It's probably a raccoon or something.
ALAN: Good for you. Any calls?
POLLY: No, but there were two messages in Boston - Larry Cohen said Lasker wants 50-50 and Tom [?] needs a desperate [something... swash, wtf.]
ALAN: Tom is always desperate for something. Did you call anyone?
POLLY: No, why?
ALAN: No reason, I'm just wondering if it's calling out or not.
POLLY: Of course it's calling out, how do you think I checked the machine? Telepathy?
[phone rings. ALAN picks up]
POLLY: Would you like anything?
POLLY: Come on, you must have something. A banana?
NORMAN: A dab of milk would be nice. [she pours him some milk] So, is everything okay?
POLLY: Yes. [ALAN returns] So who was it?
POLLY: Oh, good, are they coming back?
ALAN: Still in Portland with Mary's mother. They'll be back tomorrow. Mary says hi.
ALAN: What's so funny?
NORMAN: Nothing. Couples, I guess. [he looks supergay in this shot, btw]
ALAN: Couples. Someday soon you'll look in the mirror and have a snicker into it at yourself.
[there's a crack of thunder!]
POLLY: Here it comes. [goes to slice a banana into ALAN's bowl]
ALAN: I don't want banana.
POLLY: You always have banana!
ALAN: Not today. And the next time you feel the need to generalise you can say 'you almost always have a banana.'
POLLY: Thank you. Maybe I won't say anything at all. [to NORMAN] May I have a cigarette please?
[NORMAN rolls her a smoke. ALAN notices that there's no milk in the carton and makes a bitchy face]
POLLY: There's more in the fridge. [ALAN drinks straight from the carton] Would you like a glass, sweetheart? [when there's no answer, she gets a glass from a cupboard and holds it out to him] Would you like a glass, David?
ALAN: No, but thank you. [POLLY rinses the glass under the tap] Are your hands dirty?
POLLY: Excuse me.
ALAN: I was just wondering why you were cleaning a clean glass. I thought maybe because your hands were dirty.
POLLY: I don't know what kind of poison is flowing through your veins this morning but whatever it is, keep it to yourself. [to NORMAN] I'm sorry about this.
ALAN: I know this isn't as much fun as the boathouse, but then life isn't all cowboys and indians, is it. Is it?
POLLY: What in God's name are you trying to accomplish?
ALAN: [to NORMAN] It's not too bright in here for you? Honey, would you close the shades, I know how much he likes the shades closed in the middle of the day. All right, I'll do it. [he pulls down the shade and releases it again] Oops.
POLLY: You bastard.
ALAN: What, I was just trying to set the right mood.
POLLY: You know, I think you should go outside and take a walk and try to cool down a while.
ALAN: Should I?
POLLY: Yes, you should.
ALAN: Well, well, well, wouldn't that be convenient. Especially if I just kept walking. And then you and Valentino here could call all your little friends and maybe even dear old mommie - if she'll take the call - and you'll let them know that that selfish bastard with his endless moodswings and depressions is gone once and for all. The gold-digging kike who squanders the family millions and makes everyone so miserable is finally out of the picture, wouldn't that be a relief? No more deadbeat days, no more sleepless nights, no more David Weinberg. Wouldn't that be a dream?
POLLY: I feel sorry for you right now.
ALAN: Yeah, who wouldn't feel sorry for me? Who wouldn't feel sorry for me, seven years stuck in a coffin with you.
POLLY: Are you sure you want to say that, David?
ALAN: I was sure the day I married you. I just didn't have the courage to admit it. Have I gone too far? Should I not be honest? There she goes, there's the Lex Chandler we all know and love. When in doubt, shut them out, shut, shut, shut, shut them out. Shut them out, shut shut shut, shut all the doors until she's dragged us all into her coffin - just like daddy.
POLLY: Get out. Get out! Get out! Aaaaaaargh! [she throws a pile of plates onto the floor]
NORMAN: Get out.
ALAN: Excuse me?
NORMAN: Get out.
[ALAN throws himself at NORMAN, who falls off the chair and onto his back, rolls away from a wild swing with a stool, struggles loose from ALAN and legs it through the door, ALAN in hot pursuit. POLLY follows]
POLLY: David, no!
[lots of running over beaches, through the rainy forest, into the boathouse where David smashes the head off a statue with a piece of wood, and NORMAN breaks out the door and takes off into the woods. more running. finally, POLLY comes upon a bedraggled, wet ALAN]
ALAN: He's all yours, Lex.
POLLY: Get off my island, David.
ALAN: Your island?
POLLY: My island.
ALAN: Alas, the wolf sheds her wool.
[ALAN hops off and POLLY goes to look for whatever's left of NORMAN. she finds him curled up in the bracken where they went mushrooming earlier]
POLLY: Are you okay?
NORMAN: Where is he?
NORMAN: Did you call the police?
POLLY: No, no cops. [she touches his mouth where he has a little bit of ivy rash, and starts crying]
NORMAN: [finds a (white) mushroom] Hey. What are we gonna do with that? [he does his mushroom trick and kisses her neck. zoom onto the mushroom, which now is purple. she's gonna eat it! freeze-frame as the wavery music of a job well done plays]
[cut to pan shot of graveyard]
POLLY: [vo] It's funny, your worst nightmare always seems so far away. Then all of a sudden, there it is, like a monstrous tidal wave. You try to escape but you can't. You just struggle, struggle, struggle, your desperate cries unheard. Then something strange happens. You stop struggling, your cries take flight. You forget you're drowning.
PRIEST: --your cries take flight. You forget your're drowning. Those are the parting words of a unique, courageous woman for whom the struggles of life had become too much to bear. Let me implore you, however, in your sorrow, to remember little Lexie, the incarnation of pure innocence and wondrous joy, bounding barefoot along the rocky shore of our harbour--
[roses laid on coffin. Alexis Chandler Weinberg 1961 - 1997. a girl sings Ave Maria as people start wandering off]
ALAN: That was a beautiful service, Paul.
MRS WEINBERG: David!
MRS WEINBERG: Take off your glasses, David. [ALAN does. she hands him a piece of paper] Her suicide note. Thank you for coming. [plods off back towards the grave. ALAN gets into his limo]
[cut to boat approaching island. ALAN takes off his black suit and jumps into the water and swims to shore, walks naked up to the house in a rather nippy act of symbolism]
[cut to just outside the house. winter. ALAN comes outside, and there's NORMAN!]
ALAN: Finally. [fucking FINALLY - ed]
NORMAN: How are you?
ALAN: I've had some bad nights.
NORMAN: Well, I'm here now.
ALAN: That's... all I wanted.
NORMAN: You proved it.
ALAN: I hope so.
[they embrace, v/ sweetly, and then NORMAN takes ALAN's hand and tows him into the house for some post-homicidal nookie]