Friday, July 12, 2013

Son of Sammy

Thinking about projects I want to do over the coming weeks when I'm recuperating from surgery. One of the things I always wanted to do was a screenplay about Sammy.

So I wrote the opening scene ... tell me what you think.



SAMMY is sitting outside in a wheelchair at the entrance to the Star of David nursing home. He is staring into space with his hand resting on his chin. Slumped in his chair, he looks skinny and drawn. The nurse comes out to check on him.

Mr. Sam ... are you sure there is nothing I can get for you.

SAMMY continues to stare blankly into space.

Mr. Sam? MR. SAM?

(he looks at her)

I said ... are you sure there’s nothing I can get for you?

What? I’m wearing my shoe.

No ... no ... I said: What can I do for you?

A few what?

Lawd Mr. Sam ... you forgot to put in your hearing aids again, huh?

I wish you would speak slower. I don’t know what you mean about fried eggs again.

Nurse Lola laughs and pats him on his bony shoulder. Sammy looks disgusted and shakes his head.

Okay ... just call if you need me. I’m right inside.

A big white SUV pulls up to the driveway in front of Sammy and BARRY LEVINE jumps out of the driver’s seat. He slips behind Sammy’s wheelchair and unlocks the brakes.

You said 12:00.

... and a good morning to you too, Dad. It’s actually 12:05. I had a 5 minute delay.

What play? I thought we were going to lunch.

Barry starts to correct him when Nurse Lola comes out. 

(to Barry)
Mr. Levine ... good to see you.

Hi Lola. You too ... Just gonna take the old bird to get a
(looking at SAMMY)

(Balancing himself in the car as Barry guides him in)
No need to scream. I heard what you said.

Barry PUTS the wheelchair in the back and settles behind the wheel. Sammy turns to him.


So ... what’s this play about?

We aren’t going to see a play today We’re going to lunch at the deli.

That’s what I thought we were gonna do ... lunch.

(to himself ... aloud)
Figured you’d hear that.

Barry looks over at Sammy as he stares out the window. Crumpled white windbreaker with ketchup stains on the sleeve, a striped polo shirt and wool tweed pants that look about two sizes too big. His shoes were the same ones he wore for at least the last 30 years ... bone colored loafers with a velcro strap across the instep.   

Dad, it’s 90 degrees outside. Aren’t you hot with the jacket amd wool pants?

He continues to stare out the window.

That was Lola, you know.

Yes. Lola ... your nurse. I’ve met her before.

I’ll have to introduce you when we get back.

(he starts to correct him but thinks better of it.)
Sure ... that would be great.

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