CAFE NOIR » Tales of an atheist, anarchist, wannabe filmmaker of sorts, and father of three lovable little beasties

S/HE

An ethereal, film noir love story

Working screenplay: Updated 08/04/17

by Jeff Kesterson
jeff@cafenoir.co
952-452-4471

OPENING CREDITS MONTAGE — “TRUANT” [PART 1] BY BURIAL

  • Black screen for the opening 12 seconds.
  • Abstract, out of focus city lights, silhouettes, rain drops on glass, etc, punctuated by single credits following one another at lengthy intervals.
  • Abstracted images cut from later parts of the film, sometimes double-exposed, reversed, sped up, etc. Alternating warmth, darkness, closeness, distance.

“Truant” crunches to its abrupt end, and brief hyper-rewound footage gives way to:

INT. CAFE — NIGHT

Wide shot of HER and HIM sitting at a table at the far corner of an otherwise deserted cafe. A nearly empty glass of wine sits by him, a nearly full glass by her. We join them mid-conversation, though we’re a bit too distant to hear them clearly. After a moment, cut to a medium shot at their table. Now we hear them clearly.

SHE (CONT’D)

…So he was trying to draw…a caterpillar? But he drew, well, no legs, no antennas, just this little tube, with a little bald head. And we were like, “Worm? Earthworm?” And we’re looking at him, just looking at the pictures and going, “Uhh…” And he sees that the time is running out so he starts pointing at the paper, just jamming his finger at it, and then he starts grunting, like that’s supposed to help!

HE

Yeah that sounds like your dad!

SHE

I know, right?

HE

God, now I almost wish I’d been there!

HE (CONT’D)

(Trying to fill the awkward silence)

Hey, did you ever see “Lost in Translation”?

SHE

Yeah. Well, sort of. Not, not really.

HE

Yeah, sort of, not really?

SHE

I mean, I saw it with this guy I was with at the time. So it was on, but we weren’t really…watching it.

HE

Oh…

HE (CONT’D)

(He’s lost his train of thought, poor eye contact)

Ah, anyway, so there’s this scene–Bill Murray’s playing a washed-up actor shooting a commercial in Japan–and the director’s talking at him, just going on and on and on.

HE (CONT’D)

(Now he’s getting into his story)

[Gibberish Japanese] “Hakiro san, kyoto, kyoto, kyoto, tchujeki con shigeru miyamoto.” Finally he’s done and the translator says to Bill Murray, “He want you to turn, look at camera.” And Bill Murray’s like, “That’s it? That’s all he said? Turn and look at camera?”

He’s proud of his story, punctuated triumphantly.

SHE

Huh, that’s so great! Yeah, I don’t think I got to that part…

HE

…Oh, I almost forgot the rest of the scene! It’s even better with the rest… But, ah, I don’t even know where I was going with that. For some reason it reminded me of your dad.

HE (CONT’D)

(Almost to himself, Japanese translator voice)

I need more intensity.

A long, heavy pause. Cut to a wide shot of the room. We see the closing bartender enter the frame to conspicuously wipe an already clean table. HE glances up at this movement, then back at HER.

SHE

So, what is this supposed to mean…for us?

HE

I don’t know…

HE (CONT’D)

I wish I knew what to tell you. I’m just trying to figure it out too.

SHE

(Almost at a loss for words)

It’s just so goddamn unfair. Haven’t we already had enough…shit?

SHE (CONT’D)

I don’t know what to think…

He’s got nothing to say. He fidgets and glances over his shoulder, catching the eyes of the bartender at the far side of the room, who is polishing silverware quite deliberately as if to suggest that they’ve overstayed their welcome.

HE

Are you going to finish your wine?

SHE

You can have it.

HE

No, that’s ok…

They sit in silence. He fidgets still. Finally she grabs his hands across the table, forcing his eye contact.

SHE

What are we gonna do?

The question hangs unanswered in the air. The opening chords of “Hell is Round the Corner” by Tricky fade in.

MONTAGE SEQUENCE AS “HELL IS ROUND THE CORNER” PLAYS:

  • They burst through the door of the cafe, leaving its warmth and light and running together into the darkness beyond.
  • They run breathlessly into the night, pausing occasionally in the shadows to kiss, huddle together for warmth.
  • Vignettes in a dim nightclub: SHE blows smoke into his open mouth. They dance, a dark figure in the shadows watches them. Closeup of HIM as they slow dance, then he pulls back to discover he’s dancing with a man we haven’t seen before, and HE is taken aback, looking around for HER, finally finding her kissing someone else.
  • In the back of a taxi. He leans, sleeping, on her shoulder. She’s wide awake, staring blankly ahead.
  • In their apartment, late night. She straddles him as they make love. Dark frame, high contrast, thin bands of light through window blinds, very abstract.

INT. APARTMENT -– EARLY MORNING

HE stands at their large bedroom window, many stories up, watching the city lights and the distant hum of the people and traffic below. The sun hasn’t risen yet—there’s just a hint of color to an otherwise pale grey sky. SHE wakes up, sees him at the window, and climbs out of bed to join him there. She presses into him and he returns her embrace, though he continues staring out the window the entire time, and so she turns her gaze to the window as well. They stand together there in silence for several moments.

HE

The lights, the street, the people. Like it’s any other day…

CUT TO: EXT. STREET –- MORNING

Harsh sunlight immediately blinds HIM as he steps out onto the street, on his way to work.

INT. OFFICE — MORNING

HE fills his cup of coffee in the break room. Breathing in deeply of its warmth and aroma, lost in thought. Jolted back to reality by a coworker.

COWORKER

How was your weekend?

HE

Oh, it was fine… How was yours?

COWORKER

Hey, are you sure?

HE

Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks.

Cut to HIM at his desk, sitting through yet another phone call. Cut to him sitting through yet another meeting.

INT. HOUSE -– DAY

SHE sits on a rug with a young child, toys strewn about. SHE holds a stuffed dog and a toy telephone.

SHE

I’d like to call this puppy dog. Can you remember what her name is, using your purring sound at the end?

CHILD

Clovehhh.

SHE

That’s great! Do you know what I need to call Miss Clover? I need her telephone number. Can you say “number”?

CHILD

Numbehhh.

SHE

Very nice. You’re working so hard today. Can you tell me her name again?

CHILD

Clovehhh.

SHE

Good job! And again?

CHILD

Clovehhh.

SHE

And what do I need? Her number?

CHILD

Numbehhh.

SHE

That’s right! I need her telephone number…

INT. APARTMENT -– NIGHT

SHE and HE are washing dishes by hand, together at their sink. The soft warm glow of the overhead lamp envelops them. Little is spoken—they’re content together in this quiet moment. They paint soap bubble beards on each other, laughing. They tip their heads together, onto each other’s shoulders. Bubbles dance in the sink, water rinses a plate clean.

INT. APARTMENT –- LATE NIGHT

They’re lying in bed. She’s on her side, facing him, trying to fight sleep for a few more moments; he’s still wide awake, staring up at the ceiling.

SHE

How was your day?

HE

Huh… Ok. Strange. I don’t know.

SHE

What are you thinking about?

HE

Nothing really. (After a moment, sensing her gaze and glancing at her briefly.) Well, so I was thinking about this tree in the yard, at Laura and John’s. All these rotten little apples that would fall off the tree, and we’d have to go out and pick them up, huge mess…

He glances at her. Her eyes are closed. She perks back up, sensing his silence and his stare.

SHE

Sorry, apples?

HE

Yeah I was just wondering if that tree’s still there. Or if they finally put that poor little bastard out of its misery?

He looks to her, waiting a few moments. She’s fully asleep this time and doesn’t respond. “High Speed” by Coldplay fades in. He softly brushes the hair from her eyes, tucking it around her ear. He climbs out of bed and wanders over to the window, staring out into the night below.

MONTAGE SEQUENCE AS “HIGH SPEED” PLAYS:

  • Fast time lapse blur of freeway traffic, rivers of red and white coming and going.
  • Evening fog rolling off the water, up the side of the cool blue landscape. Ground-level shot of silhouetted tree tops, with fog rolling over them.

INT. APARTMENT — NIGHT

SHE and HE are sitting in bed, each reading silently. The song “Pumpkin” by Tricky plays as soft diegetic background music.

They sit for a while, reading to themselves. After a few moments she breaks the silence, turning toward him.

SHE

Hey what are we doing tomorrow?

HE

(after a pause, distracted)

Oh I don’t know. Why what are you thinking?

SHE

Well, I thought maybe we could run out and…

She trails off, he’s not really listening.

HE

Um, run out and? I’m sorry, I’m listening.

SHE

Yeah, I thought maybe we could run out and see who’s at first ave.

HE

Yeah.

HE (CONT’D)

We should.

Nose back in his reading material. Dissatisfied, she turns back to hers as well. After a few more moments, she looks back over at him. He appears to have been replaced by a woman we haven’t seen before (Alison), staring back at HER. Then HE is back and SHE double takes. Then this new woman reappears, and the music swells and resolves as she leans in and climbs on top of HER. Cut to HER against a blank wall, lip-syncing with the music, staring directly into the camera.

Finally the music hollows out again and HE is back, sitting next to HER, lost in his reading. After a moment or two she leans over and climbs on top of him, pulling his face toward hers and kissing him aggressively, desperately. He works his hands around her waist and then up her back and underneath her shirt.

Right at the worst time, her phone rings on the end table on her side of the bed, out of easy reach. They try to ignore it, and after it finally stops ringing they’re trying to recapture the moment, but then it starts ringing again. This time she reaches over to silence the damn thing, dismounting him in order to do so. “Pumpkin” has faded out and “Family Business” by the Fugees fades in, again as soft background music.

SHE

God. I’ll call him back later…

SHE (CONT’D)

Hey, did you make that call yet?

HE

That call? No.

HE (CONT’D)

(With finality)

I did not.

SHE

So…that’s it? You’re not going to do anything about it?

HE

You think I’m not “doing anything” about it? You have no idea…

SHE

Well, you’re not going to see her again?

HE

No. God! That sounds fucking terrible. That’s the last thing I want to do. Is that really what you want?

SHE

Yes. It is.

SHE

(CONT’D)

We don’t have a lot of time…

HE

Do you know how that’s gonna go?

HE (CONT’D)

(with more force, she flinches)

Do you?

SHE

I know. It’s going to be terrible…

SHE (CONT’D)

I know that. But at least this way…

HE

(Cutting her off)

At least this way…what? We both know that’s not gonna…

HE (CONT’D)

No. Ok?

SHE

So that is it, then. You’re just going to sit here and do fucking nothing?!

“Family Business” has reached the 1:55 mark, and the music swells/resolves to extra-diegetic.

HE

(vocalized by Wyclef Jean)

Ahh, fuck that!!…

He explodes blindly out of the apartment, somewhere out into the night. Frantically twisting through alleys and into dark corners. At around the 2:20 mark in “Family Business” it crossfades into “Single” by Everything but the Girl.

MONTAGE SEQUENCE AS “SINGLE”PLAYS:

  • She chases out after him, but he’s nowhere to be seen on the rainy nighttime street. She looks all around, frantically searching for him.
  • Raindrops are thick on the glass of a phone booth, the lights of the street indistinct in the background. SHE has the phone to her ear, and now we peer through the glass into the booth, and the water streaming down the glass in the foreground appears as tears on her face.
  • SHE waits at a bus stop, huddling beneath the modest glass shelter to avoid the driving nighttime rain. She boards a nearly empty bus and finds a seat half way back, settling in sideways against the window of the bus, knees pulled to her chin. HE is already aboard, near the back. They exchange glances, but he awkwardly averts his gaze and then hops off the bus at the next stop. She follows after him.

“Single” fades to close. The song “Say Something Loving” by The xx fades in.

MONTAGE SEQUENCE AS “SAY SOMETHING LOVING” PLAYS:

  • Daytime in an apartment. SHE stands against a blank white wall, a window to one side. HE is filming her with an 8mm camera. Cut to the 8mm camera’s POV: Medium shot of her making eyes at the camera, sultry one moment and nervously laughing the next. Mostly she’s looking intently into the camera, her defenses down, though she glances away and brushes at her hair self-consciously every now and then. His turn in front of the camera, and he’s quite a bit more awkward about it. He can’t keep a straight face for long, and after a few moments he reaches out to pull her toward him. They laugh and embrace.
  • Quick cutting images of young couples of various races and sexual orientations embracing and kissing. Running, playing arcade games, dancing in nightclubs, etc.
  • SHE and HE run across a deserted sandy beach at dusk, holding hands. At a certain point she stops, turns to him, pulls her shirt suggestively off to reveal her bikini beneath, grabs his hand, and runs with him into the water. They swim, make out, run through the shallow waves, piggy back on each other, etc.

“Say Something Loving” fades to close.

INT. APARTMENT — LATE AFTERNOON

SHE and HE stumble excitedly together into their bedroom, falling over themselves, making out passionately. She tears off his shirt and helps him rip off his pants. “Reunion” by The xx fades gradually in.

Ina more gentle, deliberate way now, he helps her recline back onto the bed. She’s breathing heavily, in nervous excitement, almost as if this is her first time. He helps her slip her pants off as well, and then he ever so slowly unbuttons her top and just begins to pull it open. Cut to them sitting up, straddled together and arms wrapped tightly around each other. Not kissing or making love, simply embracing.

INT. APARTMENT — NIGHT

We cut forward in time slightly, and we see her sleeping in bed, late at night. He watches her as her breaths peacefully rise and fall. Cut forward again, and now they’re both sleeping. Cut forward yet again, and we see her watching as his sleeping breaths come and go. Cut forward once more, they’re both awake now. It’s still nighttime, and they’re lying right next to each other in bed, looking mostly upward but occasionally at each other. As “Reunion” fades to soft diegetic background music, he finally speaks, very softly:

HE

God, I was so shitty to you. I don’t really know what else I can say but to just keep saying it: I’m so sorry. God, that still sounds so inadequate.

SHE

(very raw, trying to justify this to herself as well)

Listen, I know you were wounded too. Something was taken from you, too.

HE

(he sits up)

But you don’t belong to me.

SHE

(she sits up as well)

That’s not quite what I mean. It’s more complicated than that.

HE

(intercut with this monologue are brief images of him angrily packing bags, rifling through drawers, a dropped picture frame shattering, etc)

More complicated? I let something terrible out of a box between us, and I don’t know if it can ever really be put back again. Feeling…jealous? Protective? But protective of you, or…? It’s a hell of a fucking thing to feel like a worthless failure and like a goddamn neanderthal.

INT. APARTMENT — EVENING

We cut abruptly to an earlier date. Though now they’re not in bed anymore but are standing instead, arguing heatedly.

HE

What the hell did he do to you? You don’t remember anything?

SHE

I don’t know! I think he…probably…touched me, I don’t know!

HE

(fighting back angry, disbelieving tears)

Did he fuck you?

SHE

I told you, I don’t know! Probably, I don’t know!

HE

Jesus!

He turns away from her. A pregnant pause. Finally, quietly:

HE (CONT’D)

Why did you stay there, that night?

SHE

Why did you leave? Why didn’t you stay with me?

HE

I told you, I was exhausted. I trusted him. I trusted you. I didn’t think anything would happen.

SHE

You think I thought this would happen?!

A pause. Dawning suspicion. She turns her gaze directly at him, pain and growing rage in her eyes.

SHE (CONT’D)

Do you think I wanted this to happen?

HE

(failing miserably to sound measured)

Well…you tell me.

SHE

Fuck you! Get the fuck away from me!

She shoves him away (into the camera).

INT. APARTMENT — NIGHT

We cut abruptly back, to the two of them in bed once more.

HE

(flinching)

Jesus, I’m sorry! I’m just going on and on. How are you?

SHE

It’s okay. I don’t know. I just, don’t touch me right now!

HE

(taken aback)

Okay.

He backs off and backs away.

HE (CONT’D)

Do you want me to leave?

SHE

No. Just…stay with me…

She curls up, knees to chin. So does he, on opposite ends of the bed, turned away from each other. A band of moonlight cuts across the middle of their bed, separating them. “Reunion” swells to extra-diegetic, as the camera drifts upward and away from them. “Reunion” fades to close. The song “Morning Mr. Magpie” by Radiohead fades in.

MONTAGE SEQUENCE AS “MORNING MR. MAGPIE” PLAYS:

  • Disorientation, nausea, pill popping. (Ibuprofen? Prescription meds? Hard drugs? It’s not clear.)
  • At 2:03 mark in song, the disorientation resolves and we see a slow, steady, overhead shot. On their bed, late at night, soft directional light spills across their bed from an adjoining room. He’s on top of her, and the camera pans slowly up their bodies. Feet first, then their legs, then their hips twist together and she brings her legs up to wrap them around his lower back. Is this supposed to be erotic? Seems oddly cold and detached. The camera pans further up and we see her arms wrapped around his upper back, then we see the side of his neck turned one direction, while her neck is turned the other way, toward the light.  At 2:45 mark, we finally see her mouth and eyes, her expression is of a strained release, tears on her face.

The song “Heartbeats” by Grimes fades in.

MONTAGE SEQUENCE AS “HEARTBEATS” PLAYS:

  • HE gets up from their bed and wanders silently away from HER, exiting their apartment into the lightly falling early-winter snow outside. She chases after him, through the urban jungle, calling desperately for him to hear her, to turn back to her.
  • He wanders into a field of tall prairie grass (snow is still lightly falling), and she just catches sight of him as he does so. At the 1:01 mark in the song, she follows after him, the camera tight on her face, and as she enters the fray the camera pulls back, around her, and upward (1:13 mark) to reveal a wide shot of an enormous expanse of tall grass and shrubs, and she looks increasingly small amidst this hopeless maze. He’s nowhere to be seen.
  • She searches this maze desperately. She finally catches a glimpse of the back of his head and shoulders, and she quickens her pace. But is that him? It appears a young boy has taken his place. She catches occasional fleeting glimpses of this boy from behind, but every time he seems to be in a new and unexpected direction, and further away.
  • A buck looks up, snow falling on its antlers. It stares for a few moments and then darts away.
  • She catches sight of this young boy again, but this time he’s holding the hand of a young girl. They run from HER, and we only catch fleeting glimpses of their backs and clasped hands. SHE seems to lose them completely, and then abruptly stumbles almost right on top of them, huddling together for warmth. They pay HER no attention.
  • Cut back to their bedroom. HE is sleeping next to HER, his breathing ragged. She cradles him, almost as if he’s dead. He continues to breathe but doesn’t wake up.

The song “Backdrifts” by Radiohead fades in.

MONTAGE SEQUENCE AS “BACKDRIFTS” PLAYS:

  • Abstract images suggesting IV fluids of some sort. HE looks increasingly unkempt—his hair is thinning, his appearance subtly deteriorating.

“Backdrifts” pauses mid-song (2:27 mark). Cut to:

INT. CAFE –- NIGHT

SHE and a friend, Alison (the mysterious woman from the “Pumpkin” sequence), are chatting over a glass of wine. The camera starts close and moves even closer, mirroring their movement toward each other. We jump directly into their conversation.

SHE

Of course I think about it! All the time. And then I feel fucking guilty, every single day.

She takes a big gulp of wine. Alison leans in closer.

ALISON

So…what’s the first thing you’d do?

SHE

There was another time I got out, got lost. Have you ever been along the coast in California? I remember seeing these Cypress trees in the distance, along the edge of the water. And I just had to go over there, get out and find this little beach I could faintly make out. It was getting dark and thick blankets of fog were rolling in. I found a beach—not sure if it was the one I saw from the bridge—and oh, I wish you could have been there…

The deep breaths and sighs from “Backdrifts” start to creep softly into the track under her monologue.

SHE (CONT’D)

…Lying underneath the sky, the cool fog washing over me. The waves crashing on the rocks, again and again and again. The foghorn—those deep, peaceful notes. Seeing the faint lights dancing on the bridge, silently coming and going, shadows in the distance…

“Backdrifts” resumes mid-song (2:28 mark). Cut to:

RESUME MONTAGE SEQUENCE AS “BACKDRIFTS” CONTINUES:

  • HE is alone in the shower, under a harsh ceiling light with the cold night just outside the window. Almost a wraith, standing there motionless as water streams over his down-turned face.
  • Intercut with nighttime shots of waves crashing into a rocky coast; thick blankets of fog rolling over silhouetted Cypress trees; distant car lights on a bridge, silently coming and going in the distance. SHE and Alison roll in the sand at the water’s edge, making out.
  • Without warning HE forcefully vomits and collapses on the floor of the shower, water rhythmically beating on his back as the song fades to close.

EXT. BALCONY –- NIGHT

HE is on the balcony of their apartment, several stories up, overlooking the street below, taking in the cool night air. After a few moments, SHE and Alison approach the building, laughing together and cozying together for warmth, blissfully unaware that he’s watching them from several stories up. The ethereal opening flurries of “Daydreaming” by Radiohead creep softly in. The camera drifts up, into the swirling snow, until all we see is backlit snowflakes flying against the night sky.

CUT TO:

[We linger on the opening notes of “Daydreaming,” looping the audio as necessary, perhaps the piano line creeps in.]

Match cut to a vivid, late afternoon shot of cottonwood seeds dancing madly in the air. The camera drifts down and we see HER and HIM holding hands, walking away from the camera, along a green path.

Same location but later, the cool hues of dusk. They stop and clasp hands, laughing and circling around each other.

CUT TO:

[“Daydreaming” still lingers.]

Black skies. They light a Chinese lantern, its soft glow illumines their faces. As they set the lantern free, we remain with them, and the light slowly fades from their faces as they watch the lantern drift away. Fade to silence, fade to black.

The song “Amok” by Atoms for Peace fades in.

MONTAGE SEQUENCE AS “AMOK” PLAYS:

  • Dread slowly building. A wasteland of concrete, and gasoline, and pop culture, and machines of industry and warfare.
  • Vignettes of violence, mostly its aftermath: A drone strike leaves parents weeping in the streets. Protesters react as cops in storm trooper gear march. Tanks grind over the terrain. Stunned and tear-stained eyes watch intently as a speaker addresses a gathered crowd, consisting mostly of black faces with some white faces mixed in.
  • At the 3:22 mark in the song, we see him slowly and deliberately move through their apartment, alone. He starts filling the bathtub with water. He walks into the kitchen, searching through the drawers. Soft evening light spills in through a skylight; this overhead light paints the top of his head and leaves his eyes in deep pockets of shadow. Finally he finds what he’s looking for: an exacto knife. He walks back into the bathroom, the tub faucet still running. He turns off the water and climbs in. His face is almost stone-still, just a tear or two slipping from his otherwise emotionless eyes. He slits his wrist, and the water in the tub begins to turn a sickening red. The camera slowly rises up to the ceiling, the still, red water enveloping his body as his life slips away.
  • At the 5:13 mark, cut to their bedroom, as he wakes from this (bittersweet?) nightmare and another tear slips from his eyes. It’s the middle of the night, and she’s sleeping peacefully next to him. “Amok” fades out.

INT. APARTMENT — CONTINUOUS

He sits up in bed, now wide awake after his harrowing dream. She stirs, still half asleep.

SHE

Are you okay?

HE

Yeah, I’m okay.

MONTAGE SEQUENCE, SILENT SAVE FOR VERY QUIET ENVIRONMENTAL SOUND

  • He climbs out of bed, she drifts back to sleep. He moves to a chair at the far end of their bedroom, staring out the large window at the city lights outside. The camera follows some of these lights, then turns to fixate on his face, pulling slowly in as he stares intensely into the night.
  • He stills sits in his chair at the window, wide awake. A harsh sun has risen on a new day, as she sleeps peacefully still.
  • His morning routine. He steps out the shower, puts on his shirt and tie, brews coffee, etc.
  • He trudges off to work, the sun blinding him as he fights his way through crowded city streets.
  • She conducts a speech therapy session, though we can’t hear clearly what’s said.
  • He answers phone calls and sits through meetings, the futile details of which we aren’t privy to.
  • They read silently to themselves, at opposite corners of their apartment living room.
  • They silently wash dishes together by hand.
  • He looks out a window, at wild green scenery outside. Leaves and grass dance chaotically in a strong wind. Inside everything is dead calm, as he stands motionless and expressionless.

The song “Climbing up the walls” by Radiohead fades in.

MONTAGE SEQUENCE AS “CLIMBING UP THE WALLS” PLAYS:

  • Late afternoon, he trudges back home from work.
  • Large crows circle above. We see one crow perched up high, surveying the scene below for carrion or prey.
  • A static camera follows endless spans of sound barrier walls, from the window of a car speeding along an urban freeway. The camera catches the top of the walls, with a hint of open sky and leafless trees peeking out from behind the walls.
  • He enters their apartment. Through the open door of their bedroom, he sees her silhouette; she’s just stepped out of the shower. Dim interior, she’s backlit by the late afternoon sun through the windows. They make eye contact and he enters the room, moving toward her. After a moment he gives her a quick kiss and then he pulls back to measure her reaction. When she doesn’t pull away, he kisses her again, softly and tentatively for a moment.
  • At the 1:57 mark in the song, he’s clutching for her desperately. She still doesn’t pull away or push him away, but she’s not fully reciprocating either. He keeps pressing forward, and he climbs on top of her, at which point she finally does begin to push him away.
  • At the 3:02 mark, they’re fully apart but staring directly into each other’s eyes, not sure who the other is any longer.
  • At the 3:09 mark, cut to an exterior shot of him exploding through the main street-level door of their apartment building, onto the street outside, under a blood-red sky. He stumbles forward, onto a bridge, dark vaguely human figures in the background on the bridge.
  • At the 4:02 mark, we see him stop, cock his head upward, and let out a ferocious scream, voiced by Thom Yorke in the song. The camera drifts upward, meandering along the blurred city skyline in the background. The river passing beneath the bridge comes into view as the camera continues to wander drunkenly upward. Fade to black as the song fades out.

INT. APARTMENT — EVENING

Later, as the sun sets. He stumbles back into their apartment. She’s sitting calmly on the couch; he joins her there. There’s a quietness here, there isn’t much to say. The opening cords of “Sleep Alone” by Moby creep ever-so-softly in.

Finally she breaks the silence.

SHE

So what are we gonna do?

The question hangs in the air, unanswered. A few beats later, the song swells fully in as the melody breaks at the 0:22 mark in the song. She reaches out to gently brush her fingers across his forehead and through his hair. He closes his eyes, savoring her touch, then he leans into her shoulder. They hold each other, close and quiet in this moment together. Fade to black.

“Sleep alone” continues to play as the credits roll. We see intermittent 8mm footage of the two of them slow dancing. “Sleep alone” plays to its close, and for the last 45 seconds of the credit sequence we hear “Parachutes” by Coldplay.

Fade to silence, fade to black.