As Elvis Costello once sang, 'Welcome to the working week.' And you know what that means, don't you? You betcha. It's time for another amazing chapter of that hardboiled/pulp story I like to call WILSHIRE BOULEVARD. So, strap yourself in, buckle up tight, and get ready for the ride of your life.
Screened a classic from the 70's last night, THE GAMBLER, featuring James Caan, along with a raft of classic actors including Jimmy Woods, Lauren Hutton (!) and a baby-faced Paul Sorvino. Terrific cautionary tale written by my man James Tobak about the perils of gambling. Not to give anything away, but I was squirming in my seat watching Caan fuck up his life betting all his money on losers -- several times. Terrific stuff. They just don't make 'em like that anymore ... Rent it if you've never seen it. A real classic.
Onto today's joint from WILSHIRE BOULEVARD today, and this one's a corker. The plot is heating up -- as Bernie and Aya are closing in on Carrie ... quite literally ...
INT./EXT. UNMARKED POLICE CAR - MOVING
The car cruises Speedway.
A narrow street just behind the Venice Boardwalk.
It passes BUMS, young HIPSTERS. SURFERS.
Bernie’s behind the wheel. Aya sips a designer coffee.
and the bartender looks at the guy and says,
‘Hey. I was talking to the duck.’
Bernie ROARS with laughter.
Aya does a slow burn.
C’mon, that’s funny.
You fucking sneak. I was driving.
Payback for stopping at Star-FUCKS.
How can you drink that shit?
It looks like a milk shake, not a COFFEE.
Bernie’s cell phone RINGS.
He pulls it out. Listens.
Keko here --
Martune’s dead --
We’ll be right there, chief --
(hangs up, to Aya)
Step on it, baby.
We’ve got another body.
(does a ‘take’)
You called me -- baby.
PUSH IN ON Bernie’s face.
In pain. Confused.
Don’t get used to it.
INT. VENICE MOTOR COURT HOTEL - ELEVATOR - AT THAT MOMENT
Carrie rides down. Pulls out her Glock. Checks the chamber.
EXT. VENICE MOTOR COURT HOTEL - CONTINUOUS
Bernie and Aya’s car pulls into the front entrance. Parks.
IN THE LOBBY
the elevator doors open.
Carrie walks out.
Then hears --
-- homicide detective Keko,
and this is detective Meir.
We’d like to see the register.
Carrie FREEZES in her tracks --
Turns, and walks toward the garage exit.
Goes through a door.
AT THE FRONT DESK
Bernie and Aya look through the book.
Than Dong Ng, Werner and Hilda Schmidt,
Lucia Greco -- fucking United Nations.
The officious PIMPLY YOUNG CLERK (22) nods stiffly.
PIMPLY YOUNG CLERK
Well, Venice Beach IS a major vacation destination.
Do you have a photocopier?
PIMPLY YOUNG CLERK
Sorry. There’s a Kinko’s about a mile away, on Lincoln.
Fuck that --
You stay here, write down all the names
going back the last twenty-four hours.
I’m gonna go scope out the parking garage.
Gee, thanks, officer.
You go prowl why I stay here
and do the secretarial work?
I think NOT.
(shoves the book at him)
YOU write down the names
while I go check out the garage --
(off his stare)
If she happens to be down there,
she WON’T recognize ME, GET it?
The clerk watches. Amused.
That’s -- a good idea.
(to the clerk)
What the fuck are you looking at?