SHIPS IN THE NIGHT # 6

Thanks to those who have provided feedback. Much appreciated. Don't leap to conclusions too early. Yes, this is a 2nd draft work in progress. I am publishing each new segment as it comes off the production line. And yes, Ruth Harley believes that reading and assessing this screenplay (indeed any screenplay of mine) would place Screen Australia staff at risk. At risk of what, you might ask? Being bored? Being entertained? God knows! I have asked but neither Ruth nor the Screen Australia Board believe that I am entitled to an answer!

…continued from SHIPS IN THE NIGHT # 5

22 INT. TAXI. CITY STREET. NIGHT

MATT drives fast – the purple sedan a couple of hundred meters behind him. There is a curve in the road. The purple car disappears from Matt’s rear vision mirror. He sees a driveway, switches the car lights off.

23 INT DRIVEWAY. SUBURBAN HOME. NIGHT

MATT swings into the driveway, tires screeching, parks in front of the garage. Lights at the front of the house turn on.

MATT Shit!

MATT’S eyes are focused on the rear vision mirror. Nothing. More nothing and then…the purple car drives past the driveway. BLUE, in a state of shock, breathes a sigh of relief – his face breaking into a smile.

BLUE That was fucking awesome!

MATT ignores BLUE, tries to calm his breathing – his left hand on his racing heart. BLUE notices MATT’S bleeding knuckles and is about to say something when MATT holds his hand up to shut BLUE up. A MAN IN PAJAMAS opens the front door with a cricket bat in one hand and his mobile phone to his ear in the other.

MATT Shit!

MATT switches his lights on and backs fast out of the driveway. The mobile phone in his pocket rings. He ignores it.

24 INT. TAXI. CITY STREET. NIGHT

Back on the main road MATT turns in the opposite direction to the one taken by the purple car, drives off fast. The mobile phone stops ringing.

BLUE Thanks man!

MATT shakes his head, looks at his watch.

BLUE It’s just a bit of a…

MATT holds his had up: ‘shut up!’

BLUE …a misunderstanding.

MATT Shut the fuck up, Blue, and get out.

MATT pulls over to the side of the road, puts his foot on the brake, skids in the gravel. He calms his breathing, regains his composure, leans over BLUE, opens the passenger door – speaks politely – passive/aggressive!

MATT Now. Please Blue. Thank you.

BLUE looks at him in shock, opens the door, starts to get out. Tracy’s phone rings.

BLUE Anyhow, thanks, man I really appreciate it.

MATT answers Tracy’s mobile as BLUE walks off.

TRACY’S VOICE You got Blue?

MATT He’s safe…

TRACY’S VOICE Thanks, can you…

MATT Tracy, I need my phone. And Juliet’s number. Now. Please!

TRACY’S VOICE Okay, hang on…can ya put the dumb prick on? Gotta tell him something.

MATT shakes his head, sighs, calls out:

MATT Blue!

BLUE turns. MATT points to the phone. BLUE runs back to the car, takes the mobile from MATT through the driver’s window.

BLUE Hey, babe! You’re right. Matt is awesome. If it hadn’t been for him…

MATT leans close to the phone, speaks loudly.

MATT Juliet’s phone number, Tracy. Please!

TRACY’S VOICE Don’t get ya knickers in a twist, Tubba.

MATT Tubba!

TRACY’S VOICE I googled you, Matt Patterson. I know everything about you now. Hey, I sent that cool photo of you to Blue. Get him…

MATT Photo…!?

BLUE He’s dropped me off. I’m cool now…

TRACY’S VOICE Where?

BLUE A few ks from Gluttons.

TRACY’S VOICE Blue, I need to talk to you in private.

BLUE nods, walks a little further up the road. MATT watches him as he listens to Tracy. He runs his fingers through his hair, inspects the crack in the windscreen. It seems to have stabilized. After a good deal of nodding, BLUE smiles, walks back to the cab, hands the mobile to MATT.

TRACY’S VOICE Matt, if ya want ya phone back, take Blue home and meet me at Gluttons in…

MATT No. I don’t care about my phone. You can keep my phone. Just give me Juliet’s phone number.

TRACY’S VOICE You take Blue home and I’ll give it to you.

MATT Don’t try and blackmail me, Britney.

TRACY’S VOICE I’m not trying to blackmail you, Tubba. I am blackmailing you. Now here’s the plan…

25 EXT. TAXI. CITY STREET. NIGHT

MATT drives in silence, BLUE in the passenger seat. MATT is in a foul mood. BLUE plays absent-mindedly with the silver ring on his middle finger. It is identical to the one Tracy was wearing. MATT notices.

BLUE  You ever been addicted to anything?  Cigarettes, Maccas…porn.

MATT shakes his head.

BLUE  Not even to footie?

MATT I don’t want to talk, Blue, about anything! Okay?

BLUE You pre-menstrual or something. (A BEAT) I mean menopausal…men can get menopause too, ya know? When ya testosterone levels drop.

MATT There’s nothing wrong with my testosterone levels!

BLUE nods, his eyes on MATT’S bloody knuckles.

BLUE I believe you, believe me!

He holds up his hands in a playful gesture of surrender. MATT shakes his head; at the end of his tether.

Loved footie when I was a kid but I was skinny little cunt and…

MATT looks at BLUE; raises his eyebrows.

BLUE  Yeah, okay, don’t rub it in! That’s what my friends called me before ‘Blue’ – ‘Skinny’.

MATT You’ve got some very observant friends!

BLUE (nods) Yeah, so how’d you get to be called Tubba?

MATT  I was fat as a kid and my best friend called me ‘Tubalard’.

BLUE  Tubalard?

MATT  Tub of Lard. Tubby.

BLUE  And it hurt you heaps, ay?

MATT looks at BLUE, nods.

BLUE  And ya cry yaself to sleep even if ya laugh along with it, ay? Just coz you’re a hopeless skinny little cunt doesn’t mean ya got no feelings…ay?

MATT looks at BLUE, sees him in a new light.

MATT  Lucky for me being bigger than the other boys at 11 made me star of the footie team…And when it turned out I could run too and the puppy fat turned to muscle…

BLUE I’d die for a bit of puppy fat.

MATT What made you think I was addicted to something?

BLUE  I’m a porn addict. Internet. Recovering, but…

Tracy’s phone rings.

MATT Recovering?

BLUE  Want me to get that?

MATT nods. BLUE answers phone.

BLUE Yo!

SERENA’S VOICE I can see what you’re up against! What planet is that girl from?

BLUE  She’s fucking amazing, ay, Serena?

SERENA’S VOICE Is that Blue?

BLUE ‘Blue’, ‘Skinny’, call me anything but just not late for dinner, ay!

SERENA’S VOICE You got Matt there?

MATT grabs the phone from BLUE.

MATT It’s more like he’s got me. Tracy and…I’ve been kidnapped.

SERENA laughs.

MATT Help!

SERENA’S VOICE You mean you’ve allowed yourself…

MATT (laughs) Yeah, yeah, yeah…Blue’s just about to tell me about being a porn addict.

BLUE leans close to the phone at MATT’S ear.

BLUE  Recovering, Serena. I found the cure.

SERENA’S VOICE You want a job? Half my male clients are porn addicts.

BLUE  Yeah, Trace told me you were a shrink…

SERENA’S VOICE Therapist…

BLUE  Whatever…Google.

SERENA’S VOICE Google?

BLUE  Best cure there is!

SERENA’S VOICE Google! How’s that?

BLUE  Fuck! Hard to know where to begin.

SERENA’S VOICE At the beginning’s usually best, Blue.

MATT Hey, I’m driving. I’m down to my last point. This is not a good idea.

BLUE  Why don’t you have one of these hands free things?

SERENA’S VOICE Good question, Blue. Practical matters…hang on…gotta go. Got another call coming in…Tracy.

MATT Jesus! What are you two talking about?

SERENA’S VOICE Secret women’s business.

BLUE Me and Matt’s talking secret men’s business.

Serena laughs, hangs up. MATT looks at BLUE, incredulous.

MATT  Okay, you and porn! Tell me…

BLUE Well, Trace is a porn star, see. Major! (A BEAT) Hot. (A BEAT) The hottest! (A BEAT) The best. Vegetables is her speciality. (A BEAT) Nah, just taking the piss Tubba…

MATT Matt!

BLUE Well, one night, see, I typed ‘p-o-r-n’ into google like I had heaps before but typed ‘p-o-r-b’ by mistake.  Before I knew it I was looking at a map of a town in Poland called Szklarska Porbe but I didn’t have a fucking clue where Poland was so I typed ‘P-o-l-a-n-d’ into google and before I knew it I was finding out things about Poland I had no idea I wanted to know. Ask me a question about Poland and I’ll probably know the answer – like how Mount Kosciuszko is named after Tadeusz Kosciuszko …then there’s another Polish guy called Roman Polanski – a ped film director who got into trouble fucking an underage girl… So, next time I felt like looking at some porn I typed C-U-N…Y and instead of, you know, and next thing I’m looking at City University of New York and all the courses they have…4,000 fucking courses and it was then I realized how much I didn’t know and…google became my…you know…place to go when the old porn thing reared its ugly head. All I have to do is make a little spelling mistake and fucked if I  know what I’ll be finding out about next! And that’s how I come

across this word I’d never fucking heard of – ‘serendipity’, you know…looking for one thing but finding something else that’s way better than the thing you were looking for and when I met Tracy at Gluttons one night – we both had double cheese burghers with the works - and I dropped ‘serendipity’ into the

conversation trying to show off and figuring she wouldn’t know what it meant and she grinned like a fucking Cheshire

cat…and there was this song on the  radio…’Ships in the night’, and it was some fucking thing at first sight. Love or whatever…Soul mates or something, I don’t know and Trace and I disagree on it but…

BLUE starts singing. He has an awful singing voice!

BLUE (sings)

“Like ships in the night

You keep passing me by,

Just wasting time, trying to prove who's right…” Yeah, I know, shouldn’t give up my day job, ay? It’s like…our song, know what I mean? Me and Trace.

MATT laughs, looks at BLUE in amazement.

MATT What is your day job, Blue?

BLUE Y’know how there’s some songs make you want to take all your clothes off, take a running jump off the roof, free fall 21 floors, land in the snow, make a snow angel, shiver from the cold, get hypothermia, DIE!, go the pearly gates, say “what’s up” to Saint Peter, do your secret hand shake with him, look in the directory for Buddha, find Him, ask Him  to reincarnate you into a frog, meet a princess like Tracy, kiss her, turn into a prince…know what I mean? (A BEAT) Furniture removalist. You got anything needs moving, I’m your man…So that’s how I went looking for porn and found Trace. Beautiful Tracy. My soul mate. But…because…Can I ask your advice on something? Personal? Seeing as how you’re…well, old and everything? you’ve been in love, right?

MATT (smiles) I’m not that old…

BLUE Well, when a boy and girl are going out together and…

Tracy’s mobile in MATT’S pocket rings. MATT takes it out.

BLUE Want me to…?

MATT nods, hands the phone to BLUE.

BLUE Yo.

TRACY’S VOICE Put Matt on.

BLUE Hey, babe…

TRACY’S VOICE Put Matt on.

BLUE Tracy wants to talk to you.

MATT looks in the rear-vision mirror and in his side mirror, takes the mobile reluctantly.

TRACY’S VOICE Change of plan. I want you to meet me in Paramatta. Serena’s cool with it.

MATT Great to know that you and Serena have sorted my life out for me.

TRACY’S VOICE There’s club called ‘Stardust’, do you know it?

MATT I’m a fucking taxi-driver, Britney, of course I know it.

BLUE Britney!

TRACY’S VOICE Great, Tubba…see ya there in ten. Hey. That photo is so cool. You with a six pack!

MATT What photo?

TRACY’S VOICE I sent it to Blue. You didn’t get it!?

BLUE Sorry babe, I forgot. I’ll…Britney!

TRACY’S VOICE I’m not your babe, Blue!

BLUE takes out his mobile phone.

MATT Tracy, what photo are you talking about?

The sound of a police siren. The inside of the cab lights up with the flashing orange light.

MATT Fuck!

MATT sees the police car in his rear vision mirror, pulls over, drops the phone into his lap, shakes his head. He can’t believe this is happening.

…to be continued…

letter to Prime Minister Julia Gillard 5th Dec

The need to generate income this week renders impractical my planned visit to the Screen Australia foyer today. If I am to be arrested again it fits in better with my employment responsibilities if it happens on 14th Dec - the day that the Screen Australia Board meets next.

The Hon Julia Gillard MP
Prime Minister
Parliament House
Canberra, ACT 2600                                                                                      5th. Dec. 2012

Dear Prime Minister

It is now seven months since I commenced a letter to you with this question:

“Is it appropriate that complaints made about the Chief Operating Officer of a federal government body that invests around $60 million a year in Australian film and television are investigated by the Chief Operating Officer herself?”

I have not yet received from your office acknowledgment of receipt of this letter, or of any of the several other letters I have subsequently sent to you. I wonder if anyone in your office or that of Mr Crean has ever investigated the allegation above to determine whether it is factually correct or incorrect; if I am speaking (writing) the truth or am lying.  Is it of no concern to you or Mr Crean that Screen Australia’s complaints process is overseen by someone who investigates complaints made about herself?

My experience with Screen Australia over the past few years (and that of many of my fellow filmmakers) is that facts count for little once a narrative has been decided upon that exonerates Screen Australia staff of any wrong-doing or to shift the blame for plain old fashioned bureaucratic cockups onto the shoulders of complainants.

My last letter to the Screen Australia Board, written on 28th Nov., speaks for itself:

http://jamesricketson.blogspot.com.au/2012/11/my-third-arrest-for-trespassing.html

I received no response. The Board has clearly decided that the most appropriate response to my asking for evidence of the crimes I have been charged with, been found guilty of and which have led to my being banned and effectively end my career as an Australian filmmaker, is to
ignore me.

With a commitment to transparency and accountability I have, on many occasions now, invited Dr Ruth Harley and the Screen Australia Board to present me with evidence of my having intimidated, harassed and placed at risk members of Screen Australia staff. One paragraph, one sentence, one phrase or even one word would probably suffice to demonstrate that I am guilty as charged and that my pleas of innocence are merely hypocritical spin or, if we dispense with euphemism, that I am a liar.

Lest the details of this dispute escape you, your memory can be refreshed by visiting:

http://jamesricketson.blogspot.com.au/2012/05/letter-to-prime-minister-julia-gillard.html

This letter to you did not yield a response.

My many requests of Screen Australia to agree to mediation to resolve this long-running dispute have been ignored. No reason has been given, though I think it pretty clear that is because any independent observer, interested in facts, not spin, would be hard-pressed to find even one word in my correspondence that could be construed to place any member of Screen Australia staff at risk. That Dr Harley should not allow facts, evidence or truth get in the way of a defamatory narrative that has me placing her staff at risk does not surprise me at all. This is her style. That the Screen Australia Board allows a ban such as the one placed on me without providing me with one shred of evidence for its justification does surprise me, however.

Rightly or wrongly, cleverly or stupidly, effectively or ineffectively, I have recently fallen back on a technique that has worked in the past for others engaged in an asymmetrical battle with the powers-that-be: the non-violent protest. I have been arrested twice to date in the foyer of Screen Australia’s Sydney office whilst doing nothing other than sitting calmly minding my own business, doing or saying nothing to harm anyone, waiting to be provided with evidence of my having placed Screen Australia staff at risk. On many occasions now I have acknowledged that if I am guilty of this crime the ban that has been placed on me is appropriate. This has been an open invitation to Dr Harley and the Board to demonstrate their commitment to transparency and accountability (not to mention natural justice!) and, in the process, completely destroy my own credibility. Neither Dr Harley nor the Board has taken advantage of this oft-presented opportunity.

On 14th Dec I will make my third visit to the Screen Australia offices - to be either provided with evidence of my crimes or to be arrested again. On this day the Screen Australia Board will be meeting to make a range of decisions regarding film and television projects. This letter, copied to members of the Board (and which I will post on my blog), is an open invitation to Board members, on 14th Dec., to provide me with evidence of my having placed Screen Australia staff at risk.  That’s all. In the interests of transparency and accountability I will post it on my blog - even if it makes me look both a fool and a liar. If any member of the Board decides that it might be worth talking to me in the foyer (during morning tea, lunch) I would welcome the opportunity. What they might discover is that I am not a ‘nutter’ (as described by one significant Screen Australia player in this drama) but a calm, rational and experienced filmmaker whose crime is not that he has intimidated anyone or placed members of staff at risk, but that he has been a vocal critic of Screen Australia under the stewardship of Dr Harley. Screen Australia cannot abide criticism of any kind and will go to extraordinary lengths not just to silence critics such as myself who have the temerity to ask questions but to deter others from asking similar questions, making their own criticisms of the way in which Screen Australia is run.

If, on 14th Dec, Ruth Harley and the Screen Australia Board decide, rather than to provide me with evidence of my crimes, to have me arrested again, so be it. On 20th Dec Screen Australia and myself will face off in the Downing Centre to have my first arrest charges heard.

No doubt Screen Australia will have a legal team in court to argue the validity of the decision to have me arrested. I will try to keep the smile off my face. Whether I am found guilty or innocent of the heinous crime with which I have been charged is of no consequence to me. Either verdict will, I suspect, reflect badly on Dr Harley’s management style and give Australian filmmakers something to shake their heads in wonder and laugh about at Christmas parties during the silly season.  In any event, I shall keep turning up at the Screen Australia offices and being arrested until such time as the evidence of my crimes is presented to me.

I trust that I may, this time around, at least receive acknowledgement of receipt of this letter from your office.

best wishes

James Ricketson
cc The Hon Simon Crean MP
Members of the Screen Australia Board

SHIPS IN THE NIGHT # 5

...continuing on from SHIPS IN THE NIGHT # 4

18 INT CAB. ‘GLUTTONS’. NIGHT

MATT drives into the parking lot of a fast food outlet, ‘Gluttons’. He drives past a large smiling Buddha-like figure with a huge hamburger in one hand and an equally huge ice cream in the other.

19 EXT. ‘GLUTTONS’. NIGHT

MATT pulls up in the parking lot, gets out, looks towards the entrance – around which young MEN and WOMEN are gathered eating hamburgers etc. He is looking for someone. Tracy’s mobile rings. He takes it out, looks at the screen: unknown caller. It is Serena. She laughs. 

SERENA’S VOICE So who’s a cradle snatcher, then?

MATT grimaces, glances at his watch.

MATT Shit! Sorry. There’s been…

MATT and SERENA talk over the top of each other.

SERENA’S VOICE Sounds like she’s about 13!

MATT She called you…!?

SERENA’S VOICE No, I called you…stupid enough to believe…

MATT Sorry, I should have called and…

SERENA’S VOICE …that 45 minutes might actually mean 45 minutes and…

MATT …if you’ll just calm down for a sec.

There is an incoming call on Tracy’s mobile.

SERENA’S VOICE Okay, I’m calm. Totally calm. Explain! How’s your hand? Were you in a fight?

MATT looks at the screen: mum

MATT Serena, sweetheart, just gotta put you on hold for a moment and…

SERENA’S VOICE Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, Matt. I’m…

MATT I’m putting you on hold, okay?

SERENA’S VOICE (A BEAT) Okay.

MATT presses the appropriate key. Tracy’s mother’s voice is heard – angry and worried at the one time.

MERILY’S VOICE Darling, have you any idea what time it is? 

MATT Hi Merily, this is not…

MERILY’S VOICE Who is this? 

MATT My name’s Matt, Merily. I’m a taxi driver…

MERILY’S VOICE How do you know my name’s Merily?

A taxi pulls up close to the entrance to GLUTTONS.

MATT Tracy told me.

MERILY’S VOICE Who’s Tracy?

MATT Your daughter.

BLUE gets out of the taxi.

MERILY’S VOICE Tracy! My daughter’s name’s Britney.

BLUE walks quickly in through the entrance to GLUTTONS.

MERILY’S VOICE Did she tell you it was Tracy? 

MATT tries to remember where he has seen BLUE before.

MERILY’S VOICE Hello, hello, have you got Brit with you?

MATT She’s OK, Merily. She left her mobile in my cab and I’m meeting her in five minutes to give it back to her. Then I’ll drive her home, okay?

MERILY’S VOICE But…

MATT I’ve got another call on hold Merily, so…I’ll call you right back in…?

MERILY’S VOICE No, I want you to…

MATT presses ‘call waiting’, cuts her off.

MATT Serena, you there…

Silence. MATT tries, without success, to access ‘call waiting’. Tracy’s distinctive mobile ring is heard: unknown caller: MATT presses the appropriate icon.

TRACY’S VOICE Hey, Matt…I’m running a bit late. Something came up. Sorry for schitzing out on you like that. Like a cut snake, ay! It’s just…something happened yesterday that grossed me out big time… (A BEAT) I guess you don’t really want to know about it, ay?

MATT I just want to get my mobile back and go home…

TRACY’S VOICE Serena’s pissed off, ay? 

MATT Yes, and she’s going to be more pissed off if I don’t get to her place soon. 

TRACY’S VOICE It’s not what you think, I don’t think.

MATT What’s not?

TRACY’S VOICE What Serena’s pissed off about.

MATT I need to get Juliet’s phone number from you. Now.

TRACY Did you hear what I just said?

MATT Yes, but…just give me Juliet’s phone number will you?

TRACY’S VOICE No worries, I’ll just put you on hold. Hang on a tick. ‘Big Brute.’

Tracy’s laughter is heard. MATT, embarrassed, shakes his head.

MATT She told you that!?

TRACY’S VOICE Yeah, but she didn’t tell me if the ‘big’ part of it refers to your size…or your…rooster ?

MATT Juliet’s phone number! 

TRACY’S VOICE Hey, Juliet’s cool and…You didn’t tell me you were captain of the Roosters…Hang on.

TRACY has put MATT on hold. He is trying to make sense of what Tracy has just said. She comes back online.

TRACY’S VOICE It’s none of my business, Matt, but you really should know your own daughter’s phone number. You got a pen?

As he takes a ball point pen from his pocket:

MATT Hang on, Tracy, how do you know Juliet is ‘cool’?

TRACY’S VOICE I just talked to her on the phone. And she sent me that photo of you. Hey, you were good looking when you were young.

MATT Photo? What photo? What did you talk about?

TRACY’S VOICE Just girl stuff. Hey, and Serena’s a real character too, ay? A woman with balls. The number is…

MATT What did you and Serena…?

TRACY’S VOICE You want Jules’ number or what? Big Brute?

MATT Okay, fire away.

MATT readies the pen to write it on the back of his hand.

MATT Incidentally, your mother called.

TRACY’S VOICE My mother called you?

MATT No, she called you…Worried. You should call her and let her know you’re OK. 

TRACY’S VOICE You didn’t talk to her, did you? What did you talk about?

MATT Just parent stuff.(A BEAT) Britney!?

There is a long moment of silence.

MATT Tracy…Britney…(A BEAT) Hello…

TRACY’S VOICE She is such a bitch. I am going to call her. Fuck her!

TRACY hangs up. MATT is left standing, pen in hand, hovering above his wrist. He presses the appropriate icon on the mobile, hears his own voice:

MATT’S VOICE Matt’s voice here. Not to be mistaken for…

He hangs up, makes another call, gets Serena’s message bank.

SERENA’S VOICE ‘Serena here, but I’m not here, but if you leave…’

MATT terminates the call. His attention is caught by BLUE emerging from GLUTTONS, hamburger in hand. It occurs to MATT where he has seen Blue before. He looks at the screen of Tracy’s mobile. He is not sure how to navigate the menu but eventually finds what he is looking for. Onscreen:

BLUE, his hands joined to conceal his genitals. The frozen image comes to life.

BLUE

Babe!

He opens his arms wide, revealing a codpiece in the shape of an elephant’s head – replete with big ears and, of course, a trunk!

BLUE

Love you heaps!

BLUE grins, begins to recite:

BLUE

Now I have you

And you have me

Our troubles all

Are gone you see.

MATT looks from the mobile screen to where BLUE, 20 feet away, eats his hamburger. MATT looks back at the mobile screen:

BLUE

Love it was

from the start

we’ll be together

Till death we part.

BLUE grins again.

BLUE

Love you, babe.

MATT, puzzled, is in the process of joining the dots when he notices GBH’s purple ‘pimped out’ car, seen in the opening sequence, pulling off the main road, into GLUTTONS.

MATT looks back to where BLUE was standing at the entrance but he is no longer there. He looks around, sees BLUE hiding behind the big Buddha like figure – peering furtively at:

The purple sedan pulling up outside the fast food restaurant entrance. GBH gets out of the car, scans the inside of GLUTTONS (through the windows) and the parking lot looking for someone. MATT shakes his head, can’t help but smile. He punches numbers into his mobile. Serena answers.

SERENA’S VOICE I wonder who is calling at this hour?

MATT Sorry, I don’t know what happened there. You know me and mobiles.

SERENA’S VOICE Oh, the Brute! 

MATT You told Tracy?

SERENA’S VOICE I was pissed off! It slipped out.

MATT looks back at BLUE, whose hand is now cupped over the mouthpiece of his mobile phone, talking urgently and with his eyes on GBH. BLUE hangs up, disappears from view.

MATT I’ll be there in twenty, OK?

SERENA’S VOICE Yeah, right!

Tracy’s mobile announces an incoming calls.

MATT Thirty, max.

SERENA’S VOICE That’ll be your 13 year old. 

MATT Promise.

SERENA’S VOICE If I had a dollar for every time… 

MATT Hey, I don’t have much choice here…

SERENA’S VOICE No, you’ve chosen not to have any choice.

MATT Hey, I’m not one of your clients…

SERENA’S VOICE What are you, Matt?

MATT This is not the best time to have this conversation?

SERENA’S VOICE No, of course not! See you when I see you. Christmas maybe!

Serena hangs up. MATT takes the new call. TRACY in a panic:

TRACY’S VOICE Matt, can you give Blue a ride?

MATT Who’s Blue? The guy with red hair!?

TRACY’S VOICE Yeah. It’s kinda urgent…

MATT No. Tracy, fuck! I just want my phone back.

TRACY’S VOICE He’s gunna get the shit beaten out of him…

MATT ‘s patience has totally run out.

MATT Not my problem. I need Juliet’s phone number. Now, Tracy!

MATT hears a low whistle and then a loud whisper.

BLUE (off screen) Hey Matt…

MATT looks around. BLUE is crouched by the passenger door of his cab, beckoning him.

MATT What the…!

BLUE opens the door from a crouching position and slides into the passenger seat, his head down, out of view. MATT forgets about Tracy, lowers the phone.

TRACY’S VOICE Matt? Matt!

MATT moves fast to his cab, opens the passenger door.

MATT Out!

BLUE, 17, his face covered with freckles, tries to smile.

BLUE I’m Blue. Tracy’s Blue. She said…

MATT Don’t give a fuck whose Blue you are! Out!

BLUE Bro!

MATT I’m not your fucking bro, Blue! Out!

MATT has lost it. His eyes are blazing.

MATT Get the fuck out of my cab! Now!

BLUE gets out reluctantly. MATT walks around to the driver’s side, opens the door, drops into the seat, slams the door behind him – drawing the attention of GBH and his TWO MATES.

20 INT. CAB. ‘GLUTTONS’. NIGHT

Through the cracked windscreen MATT sees GBH (talking on his mobile) and his TWO MATES up by the entrance. They have spotted BLUE and are heading towards him. MATT turns the ignition on, engages the gears, looks from BLUE, frozen in terror, to GBG and his TWO MATES approaching. He mutters under his breath:

MATT Run, ya silly fucker!

GBG and his TWO MATES are just ten meters away when MATT leans over, opens the passenger door and shouts at BLUE.

MATT Get in.

BLUE leaps in. MATT activates the locks. GBH and his TWO MATES are in front of the cab now, blocking MATT’S escape. Standoff!

MATT looks in the rear vision mirror. No escape route behind!

GBH gives instructions to his TWO MATES. They move to the passenger door, try to open it. No luck.

GBH, mobile hand, gestures to MATT that if he unlocks the door, gives up BLUE, GBH will get out of the way; let him drive off.

MATT shakes his head calmly. GBH snarls at MATT, raises his fist aggressively. MATT puts a lot of effort into not responding but the temptation is too great. He eventually flips a bird at GBH, who then recognizes MATT and flies into a rage.

GBH (screams) You’re dead motherfucker!

The TWO MATES at Blue’s window try to force the door open.

BLUE is scared shitless.

MATT revs the engine, gestures to GBH his intention to drive forward; that GBH should get out of the way. 

GBH You slimy fucking thieving weasel piece of shit cunt…

With the clutch pressed down, MATT revs the engine; shouts:

MATT If you don’t get out of the fucking way…

MATT indicates with his fingers: 5-4-3

MATT Five, four, three…

MATT releases the clutch, jolts forward a few feet, bumps GBH backwards. GBH backs off a few feet – his anger ramping up further. He hurls his mobile at MATT. It explodes into fragments as it bounces off the window. GBH is apoplectic now.

GBH’s TWO MATES join him in front of the taxi.

MATT finishes his finger countdown: 2-1, shakes his head (“I warned you!”), puts his foot on the accelerator, drives fast backwards about five meters, shifts gears, drives straight at them. GBH and his TWO MATES leap out of the way.

21 EXT. ROAD ADJACENT TO ‘GLUTTONS’. NIGHT

MATT drives fast out of GLUTTONS, swings onto the main road.

…to be continued…

Limiting Nepotism, New Blood & Fresh Ideas # 1

Imagine this:

You are working as a senior film bureaucrat for a state or federal film funding body. You have been in the industry long enough to be a friend to or an acquaintance of many of the filmmakers whose applications you must assess and either recommend or decline to recommend for funding. Some you have made films with, some you have developed projects with, some are close friends, lovers or ex lovers. And there are some former friends and professional colleagues you may have fallen out with. They are part of your social network in a small cottage industry in which a lot of filmmakers compete for a slice of a pie much to small to feed them all.

One applicant you know well is in deep financial trouble, on the verge of bankruptcy. As you know s/he has been working for years with little of no income and a growing mortgage on a film project whose fate now rests, in large part, in your hands. It is your job to assess it impartially, with a view to its box office potential or capacity to make a significant contribution to Australian film culture. In all honesty you do not think that the film has the potential to fulfil either objective. If the project had been presented to you by a filmmaker you did not know, had not met, with whom you had had no association, you would not hesitate to put a tick in the 'not recommended' box. This is a respected colleague and friend, however and you know what the consequences will be for him or her if you do not recommend - both professionally and personally. What do you do? Recommend or not recommend?

For even the most ethically upright film bureaucrat dilemmas such as this are part and parcel of their everyday job. There is no getting around this in a small industry such as ours in which most filmmakers struggle to survive and many are, like the hypothetical friend of the senior bureaucrat mentioned above, are on the verge of bankruptcy. For film bureaucrats whose ethical standards may not be so high the temptation to help out a friend with development or production monies can be huge. Who amongst us would be able to resist such temptation?

How do we, as an industry, mitigate against such abuse by bureaucrats in positions of significant economic and cultural power? One way is to limit the contracts of senior film bureaucrats in significant creative decision-making positions to 3 or 4 years. This would make it more difficult for self-serving and potentially nepotistic cliques to form and, if they do form (as seems to be inevitable), to provide some guarantee that they will be short-lived. There is no shortage of talented filmmakers (producers, directors, screenwriters and others with decades of experience) with qualifications equal or superior to those in such positions today - too many of whom have been in their jobs for more than four years. Indeed some have been in their jobs longer than it is allowed any one person to be President of the United States. The founding fathers of the US understood the dangers inherent in allowing too much power to concentrate for too long in one person's hands.

In Australia too many of our senior film bureaucrats have not only been in their positions (though with some changes in job title over the years) for longer than a UN President but have acquired virtual tenure. Why is this? Is it because they have demonstrated, over the years, their superior skills when it comes to the development of high quality screenplays? Is it because they have an enviable track record of investing production monies in films that Australian and international audiences flock to see? What superior skills do these tenured film bureaucrats bring to their jobs that makes them superior to all the other experienced filmmakers who could do their jobs just as well and, in all likelihood, better?

Perhaps more important than limiting opportunities for nepotistic cliques to form is that 3 to 4 year contracts for senior bureaucrats in creative decision-making roles would result in a continuous flow of fresh blood into funding bodies that can (and do) stagnate when reliant on the same people, year in, year out, to generate new ideas, new approaches, new ways of approaching development and funding in the diverse and rapidly changing industry we find ourselves in.

...to be continued...