True Romance - the movie

Recently I picked up the screenplay of "True Romance" written by Quentin Tarantino. I must confess, I am not a movie freak. In this day & age, I don't own a VCD / DVD player. For that matter, I don't even own a PC of my own. My current & ex-roommates have been kind enough to let me use their laptops to satisfy my cyber needs. That way, I am quite blessed to have shared roof with 8 truly domesticated & kind roomies in last 5 years. I wish I had few "roommate from hell" kind of stories to share. Unfortunately, I have none. Amongst that bunch of 8, I would single out "K" for a special mention. We have been staying together for 5 years now. Wonder if this could qualify for a mention in the Limca Book Of Records. These days, even marriages don't last this long. The secret of finding roommates who won't ditch you (mostly by getting married) is quite simple, hook them young. K is 5 years younger than me. Perhaps, in near future, I might get married, dump "K" & move out. But the last time I checked with my mum & sis, there aren't many (or rather any) takers for me in the marriage market. Well let’s not digress into depressing matters.

Where was I ? Yep, True Romance.

This was Tarantino's debut screenplay. He wrote it while he was still working as video store clerk.By the time I was on the 2nd page of the script, I was well & truly hooked. Racy dialogues, colorful characters, gripping storyline. It has it all. I got sucked into the deranged and wickedly funny world of Clarence Worley (a comic books & kung-fu movies freak) & his girlfriend Alabama (a newbie whore). A series of unfortunate events involving the girls pimp, a bunch of hard-hitting-fast-talking drug traffickers, & a bag filled with cocaine sets off a mad-cap cat & mouse game between the bad guys, the ill-fated couple, and the cops. The bits n pieces eventually lead up to a tragi-comic climax where nobody is sure who is after who's ass.

I had a blast reading it. Without further ado I am copy pasting the opening scene of the movie. Hope it tickles your funny bone, as much as it tickled mine.

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Movie : True Romance
Screenplay : Quentin Tarantino
Director : Tony Scot
Release Year : 1993

INT. BAR - NIGHT

A smoky bar in downtown Detroit.

Clarence Worley, a young hipster hepcat, is trying to pick up an older lady named Lucy. She isn't bothered by him, in fact, she's a little charmed. But you can tell that she isn't going to leave her barstool.

[ CLARENCE ]

In "Jailhouse Rock" he's everything rockabilly's about. I mean he is rockabilly: mean, surly, nasty, rude. In that movie he couldn't give a fuck about anything except rockin' and rollin', livin' fast, dyin' young, and leaving a good-looking corpse. I love that scene where after he's made it big he's throwing a big cocktail party, and all these highbrows are there, and he's singing, "Baby You're So Square... Baby, I Don't Care". Now, they got him dressed like a dick. He's wearing these stupid-lookin' pants, this horrible sweater. Elvis ain't no sweater boy. I even think they got him wearin' penny loafers. Despite all that shit, all the highbrows at the party, big house, the stupid clothes, he's still a rude-lookin' motherfucker. I'd watch that hillbilly and I'd want to be him so bad. Elvis looked good. I'm no fag, but Elvis was good-lookin'. He was fuckin' prettier than most women. I always said if I ever had to fuck a guy... I mean had too 'cause my life depended on it... I'd fuck Elvis.

(Lucy takes a drag from her cigarette.)

[ LUCY ]

I'd fuck Elvis.

[ CLARENCE ]
Really?

[ LUCY ]

When he was alive. I wouldn't fuck him now.

[ CLARENCE ]

I don't blame you.

(they both laugh)

So we'd both fuck Elvis. It's nice to meet people with common interests, isn't it?

(Lucy laughs.)

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If the curtain raiser sounds juicy enough, then I would encourage you guys to go to the nearest Public Library & get hold of the printed copy to read the full script. For the rest of you lazy bums who don’t want to budge from your recliners, I am giving below a link to its online draft. (I noticed few typos & omissions in the online version, but I guess its good enough).

FRIENDLY WARNING : The script contains hardcore profanity & mind numbing violence.

http://www.godamongdirectors.com/scripts/trueromance.shtml

But, why me ?

I don’t know how many of you have this problem..

I tend to become invisible when I am in a restaurant or on a flight. One of my recent brush with this phenomenon occurred on a Jet Airways flight from Singapore to Mumbai. It was a night flight, but I still insisted on a window seat while getting my boarding pass. Trains, buses or flight, I just can’t resist a window seat. When I collected my boarding pass, I had spongy clouds, distant dreamy horizon, vast oceans, neatly lit runways on my mind. Once inside the plane, I discover that my window seat is right over the big, broad, boring wing. Maybe it’s just my rotten luck, that I was resigned to gaze at a menacing piece of metal with "NO STEP" written on it.

OR, maybe it’s the airline policy (I presume)

Passenger Profile : Single unattached guy in 30s..

Seating Policy No. 1 :
Place him right over the wing, above the roaring engines. Should the engine catch fire we would rather have this pitiful guy's ass catch fire first, rather than risking someone with a wife or girlfriend or a respectable job.

I fit the profile perfectly. I am now in my beloved window seat, seated next to a genial Sardarji. Another guy takes up the aisle seat. I always get seated in the "Men’s Only" section of the cabin. It’s the stupid airline policy again (I presume).

Passenger Profile : Single unattached guy in 30s..

Seating Policy No. 1a :
Isolate him. Place him in a seat that is at least 30 feet away from the nearest female passenger.

I sulk quietly & browse through the Menu Card. It lists an impressive array of spirits. My eyes light up at the mention of Cocktails. Having no freaking idea what goes in what cocktail, I ask the Surd, "Bro, can u tell me what goes inside a Bloody Mary" ? In a very knowledgeable tone, he informs me that it’s a Vodka based cocktail. I patiently wait for my turn to order.

Any drinks for you sir ??

[ Aisle Guy ] Pine-apple juice.

I cast a condescending look at the aisle guy [Fruit juice ? *chuckle chuckle* Mamma’s Boy ]. The aerial beauty (AB) (a.k.a Hawaaai Sundari / Air-Hostess) pours tetra packed juice into aisle guy’s glass. I get down to practicing my lines. I want to sound polished n uppity when I order my drink.

[Rehearsal - 1 ] "Yes, Please Can I have a Bloody Mary"

[Rehearsal - 2 ] "YEAHHH a Bloody Mary. Thank You"

There are days when I struggle to string together a simple sentence in English. My vernacular tongue just refuses to roll off any English lines. A bit of rehearsal always comes handy, in such moments of crisis.

Any drinks for you sir ??
[ Surd Guy ] Bacardi Rum With Coke.

I still have time to refine my dialogue delivery as AB mixes Rum with Coke.

[Rehearsal - 3 ] "Bloody Mary. Less ice please. I am having a cold" [As if she cares !! Huhhh ]

[Rehearsal - 4 ] "Bloody Mary"

"Bhaaisahab aap kuch nahi peeyenge ??".
[ Translation : Brother, aren’t you drinking anything ?? ]

I look up & wonder at the sudden change in the tonal quality of AB's voice. She is nowhere to be seen. The drinks cart is now already past our row. It’s the Surd who is asking me why I didn't order anything ! I don’t think he would have understood if I had told him that “I was busy rehearsing”.

But that’s not the real reason.

It’s the invisibility bug again. AB is not to be blamed. The poor gurl couldn't have possibly seen me. It has happened with me before. Even when I am in restaurants, when I want to order something, the waiter comes scurrying in my direction, only to stop few tables either ahead of me or behind me. But never near my table. At least not until I stand up and clap my hands and shout loudly "Waiterrrrrr… Waiterrrr… Here! Here!". That’s what I always do to engage attention of waiters in restaurants. If these antics fail, with my lips pressed together I make "Choooo Chooo" noises through my teeth. That always works.

Back in the aircraft, I unlock my seatbelt. Get up. Turn around. Raise both of my hands up and start clapping. A kid seated 5 rows behind me joins in & starts clapping as well.

"Excuse me sir, is there any problem ? Why are you clapping ?"
"Bloody Mary".
"Stop swearing, Sir”
" I am not swearing. I want a Bloody Cocktail. I want my drink. I was invisible"
"Huh, You were what ??"
"Invisible"

[ Surd Guy, comes to rescue ] Mam just get him a "Bloody Mary" .

AB angrily mixes my drink and literally thumps the glass on my tray. It spills a bit. I am happy. I raise a small toast to myself & take a sip, only to spit it out immediately.

"What a lousy drink.. It’s tasting like tomato soup.."

[Surd] "Tomato Juice hee toh hotaa hein.."

"You said it is Vodka based.."

[Surd ] "Haan, Vodka based in Tomato Juice .."

My stomach starts churning. I throw up violently in the air-sickness bag. The Surd panics & presses the button above my seat, which is meant to call the Cabin Attendant.

"Yes sir, what’s the problem now" ??

I don't say a word. Without looking up, I pass the air-sickness bag & the half finished, half spilled & half vommited drink back to her. She mutters something under her breath, grabs the glass and the bag and retreats towards the rear end of the aircraft.

The later part of the journey is un-eventful. The flight touches down at Chattrapati Shivaji Terminus, Mumbai. Its only 50 minutes late. Therez a melee amongst the passengers to reach towards the exit.

AB is now standing next to the exit door, with her hands folded together in a polite Namashkar & a warm smile.

"Thank you for traveling with Jet Airways Sir" ..

I am nearing the exit. Time to start rehearsals again.

[Rehearsal - 1 ] "You are Welcome. The Service was excellent"
[Rehearsal - 2 ] "You are Welcome. Goodnite"
[Rehearsal - 3 ] “Bye"

As my turn comes to step out, I notice the smile disappearing from AB's face. Her lips are closed tightly again. Her eyes are now focused to infinity. As I walk past AB, I don't seem to register on her service radar. I shrug off my disappointment and amble out of the flight muttering, "You are welcome", to nobody in particular.

"Thank you for traveling with Jet Airways Sir"..

Behind my back, I can hear AB’s cheerful voice again. She has resumed greeting other visible passengers. I got to do something about my invisibility problem. But, Why Me ?? *sigh*