Workshop

This is the script that Corey asked me to put in addition to the one i already posted before. Just a not to Corey, the copy that i gave is not the same as the one i am posting i have edited it and changed a few things.

Untitled Film Project
By Jacob Kutnicki

Int. Day.

Scene Opens with black screen just dialogue. As the interview progresses the black begins to fade into the face of Sol sitting in a chair.

Sol
I only wanted one thing for my 13th birthday. I wanted a guitar. That’s it. Honestly, at first I wasn’t intent on being the next Hendrix or Stevie Ray, I just wanted to up my chances at pussy. It didn’t work that well. If anything it made me jerk off even more cause I would be home all day playing guitar.

Interviewer (Offscreen)
How did that make you feel?

Sol
How did what make me feel?

Interviwer (Offscreen)
Sitting in your room playing guitar all day.

Sol
Made me feel fuckin’ A dude. I thought I was the greatest. I had wicked ADD so it gave me something to do with my hands other then jerk off. I mean I thought it was cool. I thought I would be showered in girls, playing at budokan, fucking cock rocking you know.

Interviewer(Offscreen)
So these dreams are what made you start a Band?

Sol
No I think the band kind of started um…. It started cause of frustration you know. For the first like 4 or 5 years of playing I just kind jammed in my room or along to records or something like that. It didn’t seem logical to start anything until I had my drivers licence cause I didn’t want to just in play in like a friends garage or some shit like that I wanted to be on stage. I wanted to be a rockstar.

Interviewer
What happened to those dreams?

Sol
Well

He stares Solemnly at the floor, as if searching for a different answer than the one he was thinking in his mind.

Sol
I guess they Died.

(Screen Goes Back To black. Music starts. Queens Under Pressure. Montage of the Different characters in intimate scenes of their life. Joe at around age 16 playing guitar in his living room. He looks up reacting to yelling. His mother is yelling at him. Cut to him sleeping in class. Cut to him Fighting with his brother, running into the kitchen grabbing a knife and throwing it at the camera screen wipe to Bobby looking in the mirror flexing. Cut to him buying pills. Cut to taking them. Then fast motion of him playing drums and working out interspliced. Cut to Mike Recieveing his test back in class with a 45 on it. Cut to his father squeezing the fat on his belly. His face in a grimace. Cut to Sol at around 12 crying hiding under his desk. Cut to him in high school at around sixteen staring out the window. As the song ends cut quickly through each member in their homes practicing their instruments)




Steadicam shot entering the doors of a small building. Camera looks at an Adult reprimanding a student holding a basketball

Principle
Its class time not ball time, you want to go sit in my office or class?

Camera continues to move, we see one student bumming a cigarette off another one. Continue moving through the school walking past each open door. See a student pushing a smaller student into a corner and squishing him as he screams. The big kid just laughs. Camera keeps moving and ends on Sol sitting in the lunch room reading the paper. A voice causes Sol to look up, Its Mike.)

Mike
The fuck you doing Betty Sue?

Sol
What does it look like I'm doing

Mike
It looks like your reading the paper

Sol
Did Watson help you figure that one out?

Mike
What? (Pause) Didn’t I ask for shit buddies like ten minutes ago?

Sol
Yea

Mike
And?

Sol
And what?

Sol is still reading the paper as this whole conversation is taking place

Mike
Im squeezing my cheeks here dude. I need to shit right now.

Sol
It went away

Mike
What went away?

Sol
The feeling

Mike
What you mean it went away?

Sol
I mean ten minutes ago I had to shit and now ten minutes later I don’t.


Mike
Well then just come in to the bathroom with me while I shit

Sol
I’m not going to stand in the bathroom smelling your shit.

Mike
Don’t be a dick dude. You said you’d come so come.

Cut to Sol looking up from his paper, his look is annoyed. Cut to Mike sitting on the toilet reading the paper this time

Mike
Holy shit did you see this dude?

Sol
I don’t wanna look at what your body produced dude

Mike
No seriously look at this.

Mike throws the papers under the stall door and they scatter across the bathroom floor. Sol looks down and processes this stupid act then leans over to pick it up. He looks at the page. It says Community center Battle of the bands in big letters

Sol
Yea so what about it

Mike
You wanna do it?

Sol
Try out for the battle of the bands? I dunno. I don’t know any drummer or bassists or anything.

Mike
So fuck it we will go just you and me. Bring your acoustic.

Sol
What are we gonna play?

Mike
I dunno, figure it out later. Listen cockmuncher it’ll be cool and there’s a $500 Prize for the winner. We should try out.

Sol
(Unenthused) Alright.

For the last couple of lines we hear the toilet paper dispenser being used. Finally we hear a flush. Mike comes out of the stall. Just then another student walks in to bathroom and walk over to the urinal. Instead of unzipping his fly, he pulls down his pants to his knees and proceeds to pee. Sol and Mike at each other puzzled by this strange event. Mike goes over behind the student and pushes him into the urinal.

Mike
Pull up your fucking pants dildo.

Out of Touch With Reality Nov 12 Workshop

Excuse me nurse, where is room 415? "It's right down the hall to your left. If you're here to see Mr. Pacino, he is in a very bad state. He suffered a serious stroke a few weeks ago. His pain is unbearable and he is unable to talk. It's a very sad moment for his close friends and family." Are you kidding. It's amazing he's still alive. I saw him get shot in the back with a double barrow shotty by Sosa's hitman, and shot in the chest by Benny Blonco from the Bronx. Im sure this stroke thing is minor and he will bounce out of it in a hurry. "What!"

Hey Mr.Pacino. Or should I call you Michael Corleone, or Tony Mantana, of Carlito Pregaunte. Man you have a lot of alias. It's a pleasure meeting you after all these years. I've been watching your reality shows since I've been alive. I don't know why just recently people are so fixed on reality shows. You were before your time. You are the pioneer because you had them for about 30 years now. I know your life by heart. The nurse breached me about your situation. I went along with the idea that you're ill, but I know the truth behind you being in the hospital. I know that you're faking your illness so that you don't have to testify in court. That's an old mafia trick. This room might be tapped, so I'll understand why you wont be able to answer some of these questions I have for you. But here they go.

The first thing I want to know is, Did you really have to kill Manny? I knew you told him to stay away from your sister, but come on man, that was your best friend."AHHHHHHOOOOOUUUHHH..." Mr. Pacino, I can't understand what your saying. Can you repeat that. "OOOOOOOUUUUUHHHHH." Oh I get it. That must be a secret code in case the Feds are listening. I don't think im familair with those codes. But I'll tell you what, I'll just ask you these questions, and when your witnesses have vanished(Eye wink), I can visit you and you'll answer them.

Okay where was I? Oh okay. In your earlier years, why didn't you just grant Sosa his request If you think about it, you've killed thousands of people with your cocaine, how much difference would it have been if you would of let the guy blow up the two girls while you continue driven behind the car with the bomb underneath it?

When you shot the guy that was supposed to detinate the bomb, you knew Sosa was going to come after you, why didn't you just leave town?

Man you are a vantrilaquist. You switched from a deep Cuban accent, to a Italian-American accent in a matter of months. In that first episode of the Godfather, why didn't you shoot McKlusky and the Turke as soon as you got out of the bathroom, just like Clemenza told you to do so? Why did you sit there and engage in the converation with them?

Why didn't you take revenge on your bodyguard who blew up your wife in the car? That was messed up man.

And why did you kill Fredo? You know he was stupid. He didn't know what he was getting involved with.

Instead you should've killed the governer. He dissed you and your family.

Why did you give Rocco that suicide job? You know Hyman Rothe was closely guarded with guys that were all packing.

Why didn't you wack your wife for aborting her pregnacy and killing your baby boy that you always wanted? I'm suprised you let her live. Come to think about it, you got soft as you got older.

You should've killed Joey Salso immediately after he arranged the hit on your nephew Vincent.

Why didn't you kill Benny Blanco? If you would've gotten rid of him earlier in the episode, he wouldn't have come to the train and shot you. Man that was stupid of you. You became a good citizen when you get old. I just realized how much of a punk you really are for faking this illness. The old Michael, or Carlito, or Tony would've just ordered the hit on the witnesses, the judge and the jury. This situation is shameful. I wish you was really sick. I would pull this little plug right here. You see I'm not a punk like you. I would've pull it just like this. Now thats a real gangsta right there. Thats something you would've did when you was young right? right? Oh shit!

Conversation with a Famous Person

Walking through the busy streets of New York City, I spot my favorite 3rd basemen. ARod from the New York Yankees. There's nothing else to do but stop him but discretely and not act like a crazy fan.

Me: (bump into him lightly) Oh i'm sorry sir.

Arod: That's okay, don't worry about it. Hey, what's your name?

Me: Angie what's your name?

Arod: You don't know who I am?

Me: No I'm sorry I don't, but you do look familiar, do you play for the Mets?

Arod: Oh man, no way. I play for the Yankees. Alex Rodriguez, but everyone calls me Arod.

Me: Oh right, yeah my dad watches one or the other I'm not sure which one, (meanwhile I'm the one with all the posters in my room).

Arod: You're probably the first person that doesn't have any idea who I am.

Me: Really? Well I'm sorry if I offended you.

Arod: Not at all. It's nice to finally meet someone that doesn't recognize you. Get to know someone as myself not as the athlete.

Me: Well I would love to get to know you as a person.

Arod: Well can I have your number and maybe call you sometime?

Me: Of course, what was your name again? (my plan worked perfectly.)

StarSTRUCK!

This is an imagined interview between myself and my favorite actor, Leonardo DiCaprio.

Trish: Hey……it’s Leonardo DiCaprio!

Leonardo: Nice to finally meet you Patricia. It’s been a long time.

Trish: I know! I’ve been a fan of yours for over ten years. I’m 21 now!

Leonardo: God, I was 21 back in 1995. I was very scrawny and skinny. I hadn’t even met Martin Scorsese yet.

Trish: Anyways, It’s an honor to meet you in person! Do you know that I had a fansite about you?

Leonardo: Yes, I did know actually. You posted the link on my website’s forum and were banned from posting pictures.

Trish: Did you ever visit it?

Leonardo: I must admit, sometimes I get curious about what other people think about me. I lie though and say that I don’t care in interviews. People would view me differently then.

Trish: You didn’t really answer my question.

Leonardo: I have such a busy schedule. I’m in Europe now promoting my new movie Body of Lies and have no time to even sleep, much less go on the internet.

Trish: There were paparazzi pictures of you leaving a London club at 4am

Leonardo: I deserve to have a good time, don’t I?

Trish: ….Speaking of Body of Lies, are you upset that more people didn’t see it?

Leonardo: Of course. Ridley was directing, and Russell Crowe was my co-star. America would rather spend their money watching trash like High School Musical 3 than a political thriller.

Trish: You know, some people still aren’t comfortable watching movies that reference the War.

Leonardo: Have you seen it?

Trish: Actually, no. I love your movies, but your political movies bore me to death. I’m excited for Revolutionary Road though

Leonardo: That’s because people assume it will be Titanic 2 because Kate and I are both starring in it. There’s an in-depth story that people won’t even care about.
Trish: ….I’ve been asking all the questions here. Do you want to say anything else?

Leonardo: People have to do more about the environment. Every reporter cares only about my love life. No one asks about the more important things.

Trish: How is your love life?

Leonardo: I don’t talk about that in interviews.

(Publicist comes in, and notions that time is up)

Trish: It was a pleasure talking to you Leo. Can I call you Leo?

Leonardo: Sure, everyone else does so it’s not the private name it used to be anymore.

Poetic Experiment

This is based on a conversation I thought that I had with Aaron Copland.


“What is it to be musical?” I asked,

“Musicality is how one lives. It is in the rhythmic knocking of the woodpecker’s beak upon a mighty redwood and the whistling of the songbird who sits in its cage in my office. It is the metered panting of a dog who is catching his breath after chasing some quick culprit and it is the calm blowing of the winds over a wide open plane in Montana or perhaps, Wyoming” He answered. I stared at him. My pupils dilate as if this answer was too great for my ears and had to be absorbed through my eyeballs.

My hand shakes as I write down the rest of his answer. I look up at him. “Who can be musical?” I ask.

His eyes slowly turned downward and finally stopped, fixed it seems on one of my untied shoelaces. After a few seconds of staring, he opened his mouth and spoke of a holy edict that said “He who is music, is god. Let all who know this be saved”. I wondered from where this law had first been written. Had it been issued by a great empire whose enormous pyramids to the gods had been bathed in the blood of the sacrifice or had it perhaps it had been said offhandedly by Bach or Schumann or Pachelbel to a street urchin who had asked for help. By now my hair had turned white with fear and it felt as if there was a thunderstorm in my chest as my heart beat louder and louder.

“I…” I am choked with terror. “I…uhm. I have one final question”

“Yes. Go on” He seems unfazed by my overt horror.

“Can I be musical as you are?”

“Levels of musicality are not subject to quantification, at least not to a certain degree. There are of course obvious difference between a novice and an expert, but how do we measure two musicians who have both obtained the level of expert. Is it speed and technique? Knowledge of theory and harmony? Is it length of time at expert level? Suppose there are two musicians both considered to be of expert level but one has furious speed and technique but lacks proper knowledge and the other has a library of knowledge but lacks speed and technique. Who is the better player? When it comes to matters of this sort, the answer becomes a subjective one. It becomes a matter of personal preference. So in the case of both you and me, I would say that subjectivity would be a great factor in measuring our artistic qualifications. Does this answer your question?”

With that, my eyes began to bleed and I succumbed to the pressure in my chest.

poetic experiment

In case you forgot, last class we talked about a poem by Roger Sedarat that was an imagined dialogue. I suggested that you try writing a poem/script that would be a dialogue between yourself and someone that you normally wouldn't be able to talk to: someone famous, or dead, or fictional. You could discuss with John McCain how it feels to have lost the election, or you could ask George Bush if he's looking forward to his vacation. You could ask Britney Spears 10 questions about Madonna, or you could have Darth Vader face off with James T. Kirk...

From Jacob for Nov. 12

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