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SCENE[Black and white; high definition; slow motion; snap shot transitions; ‘The Marriage of Figaro’ from 3:16 onwards.]CLOSE-UP: 0.00[A mugshot of BOBBY THE BOXER’s face, as he lies on his bed: beaten, bloodied, bruised, barely conscious – 4 seconds.]EXTREME CLOSE-UP: 0.04[A side-on shot of a bloody wound on Bobby’s cheek; a hand with a cloth on left of shot not yet touching it – 2 seconds.]EXTERNAL: 0.06[A wide shot of a rundown English brutalist estate – 2 seconds.]
EXTREME CLOSE-UP: 0.08[The side-on shot of the bloody wound on Bobby’s cheek; the cloth now pressed to it – 2 seconds.]EXTREME CLOSE-UP: 0.10[A side-on shot of Bobby’s forehead; lips pressed to it – 2 seconds.]EXTERNAL: 0.12[A wide shot of a quiet English brutalist building – 1 second.]
EXTREME CLOSE-UP: 0.13[The side-on shot of the bloody wound on Bobby’s cheek; the cloth slowly being released from the hand – 2 seconds.]EXTERNAL: 0.15[A wide shot of a significant English brutalist building – 1 second.]
EXTREME CLOSE-UP: 0.16[A side-on shot of Bobby’s naked torso right; MARY’s clothed torso left – 1 second.]EXTERNAL: 0.17[An imposing upwards shot of a tall brutalist tower – 3 seconds.]
CLOSE-UP: 0.20[A side-on shot of their faces: Bobby lying on the bed, looking up, in the foreground; Mary on top of Bobby, looking down, in the background – 1 second.]EXTERNAL: 0.21[The imposing upwards shot of the tall brutalist tower – 1 second.]CLOSE-UP: 0.22[Bobby’s left hand, grasping the mattress cover – 1 second.]CLOSE-UP: 0.23[Mary’s left hand, grasping a pillow – 1 second.]EXTERNAL: 0.24[The imposing upwards shot of the tall brutalist tower, just starting to crumble – 2 seconds.]CLOSE-UP: 0.26[A top-down shot of them looking at each other in the eyes with their heads resting on the pillow: hers on the left, his on the right – 2 seconds.]EXTERNAL: 0.28[The imposing upwards shot of the tall brutalist tower, now crumbling – 1 second.]CLOSE-UP: 0.29[The top-down shot of them with their heads resting on the pillow, now both looking down – 1 second.]EXTERNAL: 0.30[The imposing upwards shot of the brutalist tower, in full collapse – 2 seconds.]CLOSE-UP: 0.32[The top-down shot of them with their heads resting on the pillow, unable to look at each other – 2 seconds.]EXTERNAL: 0.34[The imposing upwards shot of the brutalist tower, now a cloud of dust – 2 seconds.]CLOSE-UP: 0.36[A top-down shot of Bobby turning onto his back, humiliated – 2 seconds.]GRAPHIC: 0.38[White text on black background: THE BRUTE – 4 seconds.]
ROOM SHOT: 0.42[A shot from the top corner of the bedroom: Bobby in bed, on his left side, alone – 2 seconds.]GRAPHIC: 0.44[White text on black background: the performance details of the show – 4 seconds.][Fade to black.]END: 0.49
A café, somewhere in England. It is empty, except for the Owner and the Wheelchair-bound Man. The Wheelchair-bound Man is, it seems fair to say, not unwelcome.W When, just now?O No, before.W Good God, a customer.O I don’t want to get carried away.W You should call the police.O What?W You said he snooped around.O I don’t know.W Though if standing in a place where there are chairs provided gets a customer reported to the police, I think you might need a sign.O I beg your...W Think of the litigation costs.O confusedW Hm?O What do you know about litigation costs?W What do I know about – oh that’s typical, that is! ‘What do you know about litigation?’ I know lots!O I’m sorry / I’m sorry – W overlapping I know lots you don’t know!O to himself Christ...W I know lots you don’t know I know!O I know you do.W Good. Now why aren’t you calling the police?O I have glasses to wash.W But nobody’s used them!O Dust, then. to himself Pedant...W If he was sniffing around, he’d know you have no cameras here.O God, you’re right.W Not even one to catch his smug face...O How do you know what he looked like?W Well I’m assuming, from what you’ve said, that he was a smug little swine.O He did have a rather remarkable manner.W What’s that supposed to mean?O I don’t know.W I’m bored of this. What are you doing?O I’m cleaning the – look, why don’t you rearrange the display cakes for me?W Oh, yes.O They need your... specialist touch – W They certainly do. prods one cake ‘Ere, I’m icing up over here. Silence. Eh? Eh?O Sorry?W I said I’m icing up over here. Icing – cakes? Yes? Oh, I’m wasted on this blog. Look, where’s my blanket?O Did you leave it outside?W Well I don’t know, do I?O Let me go get it for you. exits W By the power of Lord Lucan, am I hungry. to without ‘Ere!Nothing. I said ‘ere! Any chance of lunch soon? to himself Go to feed, can’t do nothing without feed. Can’t knock together a display without feed, specially. Haven’t eaten in days. checks he hasn’t returned steals a display cake and takes a bite Ugh. puts it back What’s happening to this place? Boiling all yesterday, freezing today. He must have bust the thermostat. The flowers don’t know if they’re up or down. They’ll all be dead before long. Good riddance. If I wanted all those garish colours I’d rub my eyes out... rubs eyes Yeah, really rub ‘em – start poking ‘em, like this! pokes eyes Ow! Bloody eyes...O enters What’s that, old gun?W Is that my blanket?O Yes. Here you are.W Not before time. Look, I’m bloody starving – well, not starving, obviously, but – O Oh, of course...W And I’ve already lost 10 of my 30 minutes lunch – O Yes, yes, you’re right – here. gives him one of the display cakes Here, this’ll be ok, won’t it?W Oh – er – O Baked fresh... well, baked by me at least.W That’s fine. Cheers.O That’s all right. hears something Oh, er, sorry old chap, just got to, er... just realised this isn’t even your blanket! Stupid of me – yes, it’s, er, must be the one the neighbour’s dog used to sleep in.W You what?O Yes...W Well where’s mine? This feels like mine. In fact it is mine!O No, you’re mistaken there, sir.W But it’s got my name on it! Look – right here!O No, that says... something else. takes the blanketW Oi, give me that back! I’ll freeze!O Just a tick... exitsW My feet are cold. What are you going to do about that, eh? Eh?Beat. Nothing. ‘Spose it’s lucky I can’t feel my feet, then, isn’t it? You’re just going to have to stay cold, as you are. I’m no good to you up here, and you’re no good to me down there, so you’re just going to have to look out for yourselves, for once. looks at the cake, and puts it back on the display
No...
takes it back
looks around for ideas
puts it down his trousers, bulging obviously
looks at it concernedly
grows in confidence
smiles; his posture changes
So this is what it feels like to be Jimmy Savile...
smile fades
That was definitely my blanket. to without John? John?End.
A café, somewhere in England. It is empty, except for the Owner. He adjusts stale pastries at the counter. Outside, white paint flakes off the wall. Silence.
A Young Man enters. He is, it seems fair to say, not welcome.
Y Good afternoon there, sir!
O Hello there – er, what can I get for you?
Y Ooh, could I get, er... just an apple juice, please?
O We – we only do cordial. That all right?
Y Oh, right, ok, well... could I just have an orange then?
O Orange cordial?
Y Yeah, ta.
O I’ll bring it over. You... have a seat.
Y sits by the window, looking out at the street
O finds the bottle of cordial, unopened for years, and struggles with the bottlecap, though the congealed crust offers little resistance of its own
pours far too much into a filthy glass and fills with lukewarm, cloudy tap water
serves
Y Ah – thanks for that, thank you.
O No problem – pleasure.
Y looks out the window
O adjusts the pastries, watching him
Y looks back at him
O smiles awkwardly, having been caught
Y takes a sip from the glass and none after that
O watches him
adjusts display pastries
Y reads over the laminated, spare menu
O watches him carefully
adjusts the glasses
watches him
Y does not look behind him
O hears something
looks at him
carefully but hurriedly exits to the back
Y turns to see him leave
breathes
stands to look around
looks at the counter, then behind it
studies the walls
returns to where he sat, though stands
O enters
Y looks out the window at the street
O Oh.
Y Hm? Oh – hello again. Didn’t realise you’d gone.
O Are you – oh no, just something in the, you know – back.
You er... are you waiting for someone then?
Y Oh no, no.
O Mm. Right. Well can I get you – to himself – no, you’ve still got your juice there, haven’t you...
Y looks out the window
Do you mind if I ask a question?
O What? Oh, no. Fire away.
Y How long has this place been here? On the high street?
O Showing its age?
Y No no, course not – just wondering. Settle a bet, you know, that sort of thing.
O Fifteen years. Give or take.
Y Funny.
O Oh really?
Y I used to live here when I was little, just going round to have a look at everything again – nostalgia, you know – at my age, as well – and everything looks so familiar, some of the signs are exactly the same as they were ten years ago – those are what you remember most of all, the shop signs – but I cannot remember seeing this place once when I was a kid.
O Well we’re not really the sort of place people notice.
Y No...
So – do you get much, you know, footfall, er... do you get many people from round here coming in these days?
O Er, well – we’re not what we were.
Y Recession?
O Hasn’t helped.
Y No.
O The local rotary club pops in once in a while, keeps us, you know...
Anyway, um – what else can I get you? Small cake? Spot of tea?
Y No, I’m fine thanks.
O Oh – all right then...
Y So what do I owe you?
O Oh, er... pound ninety.
Y Ah – er, ok... there you go.
O Much obliged.
Y Thanks. Be seeing you.
O Bye now.
Y exits
O watches him leave
checks the café
sighs with relief
goes over to the front door, steps outside to look for customers, then shuts the door and locks it, flipping from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’
exits to the back
End.
A café, somewhere in England. It is empty, except for the Owner. He adjusts stale pastries at the counter. Outside, white paint flakes off the wall. Silence.A Young Man enters. He is, it seems to fair to say, not welcome.Y Good afternoon there, sir!O Hello there.Y Could I get, er... just an apple juice, please?O We only do cordial. That all right?Y Erm... do you have orange?O Orange cordial.Y Yeah, just a glass of that, please.O I’ll bring it over. Have a seat.Y sits by the windowO finds the bottle of cordial, unopened for years, and struggles with the bottlecap, though the congealed cordial crust offers little resistance of its own pours far too much into a filthy glass and fills with cloudy tap water servesY Ah – thank you for that.O Pleasure.Y looks out the window takes a sip of the cordial and none after thatO watches him adjusts the pastriesY reads through the laminated, spare menuO watches him adjusts the glasses watches himY does not look behind himO watches him hears something looks at him slowly exits to the backY turns to see him leave stands to look around looks at the counter, then behind it, for some time returns to where he sat, though stands, and looks out the windowO enters Oh.Y Hm?O You, er... you waiting for someone, then?Y Oh no, no.O Mm. Right. Can I get you – to himself no, you’ve still got your... juice...Y looks out the window How long has this place been here?O Showing its age?Y Sorry? Oh – no no no, just, er, wondering. Settle a bet, you know.O Fifteen years or so. Give or take.Y It’s funny – I used to live here when I was little, and I don’t remember ever seeing this place on the high street.O We're not the sort of place people notice.Y Everywhere else looks the same as it always did. Even the signs are the same. Those are what you remember most clearly of all, the shop signs.O Right.Y Yeah... So you... do you see much – do you get a lot of people coming in here these days?O Well, it’s not what it was...Y The recession?O Hasn’t helped.Y Course...O We get the local rotary club every now and then, keeping us from... Anyway – ‘s there anything else I can get you?Y No, ta – what do I owe you?O Ooh, er... pound ninety.Y Ah – ok... er, there you go.O Ta.Y Thank you. exitsO watches him leave checks the café sighs with relief hears something exits to the backEnd.
A café, somewhere in England. It is empty, except for the Owner and a Wheelchair-bound Man. The Wheelchair-bound Man is, it seems fair to say, not welcome.The scene has clearly been one of awkwardness for several years.O Can I get you anything?W No.Silence. hacking coughO Oh Christ...W Shut up! hacking cough Don’t you dare... !O Let me get you -W No! No! I’m not going to be beaten – hacking cough Away! Get away!O gives him a glass of waterW snatches the glass and gulps it greedily Ah...O Better?W None of your business! Yes.O waitsW blankO waitsW Thank you.O cleans the glassSilence.W Can I do anything?O No.
End.
A café, somewhere in England. It is empty, except for the Owner and a Man. The Man is, it seems fair to say, not welcome.The scene has clearly been one of awkward silence for some time.O Look, if you've finished your coffee I'm going to have to ask you to -M Same again, please. Bet you didn't have me down as a regular first time you saw me.O no answerM In truth, nor did I - but then, this wasn’t really my choice, was it?O serves coffeeM Thank you - ah. Oh dear... Bet you had me down as a Starbucks man, didn't you? Hmm? Yes? Well, you've got me there... you see, for all its criticism, Starbucks coffee is an altogether satisfying experience. They understand that you cannot, in this day and age, pass off boiling, brown-coloured water as a cup of coffee - something this country has never learned. It has a nice, er - pours some onto the saucerrich consistency. It is made using clean water from clean pipes - a sign of a healthy business - and served in clean cups. It is always available, however you want it made that at that very moment, and the barista always smiles at you while she's making it - presumably because her livelihood is not in jeopardy. Without any pretence of authenticity, or soul - whatever that means - it ticks all the boxes. It is an altogether American cup of coffee. Though I suppose it would be unfair to accuse this cup of coffee of having any pretence of authenticity.Bottoms up.drinksO When are you going to leave me alone?End.
Butter knife trussed upIn dog collar (white)Four stomachs to get throughBrains to igniteThe bloating!The distended!In public forums(i.e. abbatoirs)Thin out the breedButter knife's all I needThe rapture!Burst the distended!Butter knife trussed upTo a woodland-found stickThe tall white supportFetishised/academicPseudo-Old Greek!Topple temple tower!Carved of Edinburgh rockThe man at the topI'll bring him downSpit him in the eyes!The rapturous response!Cut down to size!Butter knife trussed upIn smart-casual suitFourth seat on Question TimeAir of a brutePeople's champion!Their dead-eyed applause!Kneecap the classicalSack-drown the youngPerhaps if I'm luckyMy name'll be sungButter knife to tough steak questions!Gut gas and white dust!Grin lined with white dustGrin lined with white dust
EXTREME CLOSE-UP: 0.08
EXTREME CLOSE-UP: 0.16
CLOSE-UP: 0.20
