Make Art, Not War

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In Chapter 3 of RIDGEWAY, Echo Springs, Arkansas hipster jewelry artist Kayla Cross gets in the cross-hairs of her bossy coworker from hell. Meanwhile, back in Los Angeles, unemployed screenwriter Kate Salinger is packing up all her earthly possessions after being evicted from her apartment at the beach ...


EXT. BOUTIQUE-GALLERY - DAY
A quaint shop on a steep, narrow,
winding main artery filled
with tiny tourist traps.
A handcrafted sign reads DREAMLAND.

A horse-drawn carriage CLIP-CLOPS
by carrying a FAT TOURIST COUPLE,
who marvel at the sights.

Welcome to Echo Springs, Arkansas,
AKA Little Switzerland.
Population two thousand.

Twenty percent gay,
forty percent artists.
A liberal oasis in a sea of red.

INT. DREAMLAND - CONTINUOUS
A cozy, airy joint stuffed with paintings,
furs, jewelry and high-priced art pieces.

Quiet, ethereal music
plays on hidden speakers.
Crunchy granola ambiance, ahoy.

A WOMAN (40’s) stands at the counter.
Pretty, with short, curly dark hair.

One long, lone tendril spins
down the side of her cheek
as if daring you to comment.
Make art, not war.

Meet KAYLA CROSS, self-proclaimed
punk mountain dyke.

Right now she’s making a necklace.
It’s exacting work, handling the tiny
jewelry pieces taking
all of her concentration.

The music stops. Insanely cheerful
REDNECK COUNTRY starts playing,
like some kinda Charlie Daniels from hell.

An extremely unattractive HEAVYSET WOMAN (50’s)
appears, big fake smile a counterpoint
to eyes full of scared shitless.

Meet VIVI TIDWELL.
Quite the vision in mom jeans,
gaudy cowboy boots and a
baby doll dress stretched over
a stained leotard that looks like
it’s gonna burst any minute.

VIVI
Not done yet?

KAYLA
(softly)
It’s a -- tricky piece.

VIVI
But you made the fifteen dollar
stuff so fast.

KAYLA
That’s because they
cost fifteen dollars.
(holds it up)
This sells for ninety-five.
See all the detail?
Takes a little longer.

VIVI
Well, hurry it up.
I need you to dust all
the glass before you leave.

KAYLA
But Sula asked me
to make a few of these.

VIVI
I could give a rat’s ass
what Sula wants.

KAYLA
But she owns the store.
Don’t you think I should --

VIVI
NO. I’M running the store --
and when I say I want you to clean,
you’re gonna clean, UNDERSTAND?

PUSH IN ON Kayla’s face. Terrified.

EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY
An old, run-down,
baby vomit-colored shithole.

A wide, beautiful canal
runs by it on the left.

To the right, across the street,
is the beach.

Straight ahead in the distance
a sailboat glides by.
Water on three sides.

Welcome to the Marina Del Rey peninsula,
an oasis on the outskirts
of the city of devils.

Paradise found.
Then lost.

INT. CATE’S APARTMENT - DAY
It’s borderline hoarder time
in what once was a light,
airy room with a wall of windows,
now stuffed with crap.

Boxes filled with movies, books,
CD’s and clothes dot the joint.

Portrait of the writer
as being evicted.

Cate picks up a giant garbage bag.
Takes it outside.

IN THE DRIVEWAY
She carries it to the trash.

It suddenly BREAKS OPEN,
spilling several dozen shoes
onto the pavement.

CATE
Goddamn cheap fucking
Dollar Store bags.

Gets down on her knees.
Starts stuffing them
into the ripped bag.

Then slowly, carefully
carries it to the dumpster.

A platform shoe falls out.
Hits the pavement with a CLUNK.