OVER BLACK:
“Everybody's talking at me
I don't hear a word they're saying
Only the echoes of my mind.” Harry Nilsson
FADE IN:
EXT. GALVIN HOUSE - DUSK (1981)
Daylight is taking a bow. The house’s main street-side window is aglow. A dusty blue 1970 Chevy Nova SS is parked out front. SUPER: The Bronx. 1981.
INT. GALVIN HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY (1981 - CHRISTMASTIME)
A WOMAN is in the midst of cooking. She places a final garnish on the plate and smiles. She removes her apron, wipes her hands with a towel and calls out to the other room --
WOMAN
Honey. Jackie. Dinner’s ready.
There’s no answer.
WOMAN (CONT'D)
Come on. Pasta gets cold fast. Skip to it or I’ll start without you...I’m starved.
Nada.
WOMAN (CONT'D)
Alright, boys. If you can’t take a break from working on those dolls...
The Lauren grabs the plate and utensils and starts to the next room...
WOMAN (CONT'D)
I’ll just bring it in there. But eating while working is not good for the digestive system, you know.
She stops at the door jam, her face shifting into pure terror -- drops the plate -- it SHATTERS on the floor!
WOMAN (CONT'D)
Noooo!
HER POV: The legs and shoes of a JACK’s lifeless body hanging from the rafter.
WOMAN (CONT'D)
Jack! Oh, no. No. Please, Jack, no. No. No. No...
A YOUNG BOY, age 8, is kneeling between a unit of furniture and Christmas tree adorned with gifts. ZOOM IN to register his SHOCK.
YOUNG BOY (monotone)
Come back...Come back...Come back...Come back...Come back... FADE OUT.
OVER BLACK: We hear the GIGGLING OF KEYS...
INT. GALVIN HOUSE - DAY (PRESENT DAY)
OVER: The FUSSSING OF KEYS and a women’s MUFFLED VOICE. The door swings open and we see LAUREN (landlady).
LAUREN
There! It gets stuck sometimes. Just takes a bit of finesse.
She walks into the space and is closely followed by JACK. SUPER: PRESENT DAY.
JACK
A bit of oil will fix that.
LAUREN
Right... Well, this is it.
JACK
Thank you for showing me the space on such short notice.
Lauren nods. JACK looks around. Stops. Seems uneasy.
JACK (CONT'D)
This a family home?
LAUREN
Yes. Three bedrooms in the back, kitchen, a large living space, and dining area. You’d also have direct access to the backyard, which is really nice in the summer. (off his look) Something wrong?
JACK
No. Not at all. It’s great. It’s just that right now I’m looking for something smaller to settle into...clear my head and decompress...Yeah.
LAUREN Separation?
JACK nods melancholy: “No.”
LAUREN (CONT'D)
I’m sorry. (half joking; half annoyed)
Well, unfortunately the only other space is the attic. It seems we’ve wasted each other’s time.
JACK turns toward her, wide-eyed.
LAUREN (CONT'D) Attic?
INT. ATTIC - DAY - MOMENTS LATER
CUT TO:
Jack and Lauren enter onto a large rustic attic. The walls and ceiling are jammed with conspicuous insulation, and we can see the structure’s exposed timber framing throughout. There are a few items scattered about but it’s open range.
LAUREN
It was my husband’s workspace. It’s just storage for melancholy memories now.
JACK
This is fantastic. I grew up in a house with an attic. I would get lost up there for hours with my toys and imaginary friends.
Jack moves further into the space.
LAUREN
Who you kiddin’? Men never outgrow their toys. Or imaginary friends.
JACK
We gotta have something to hold onto... Sometimes it’s just our inner child.
LAUREN (sarcastic)
Except sometimes imaginary friends wear skirts.
JACK (ignoring the darttossing his own) Any chance I can rent this?
LAUREN
It’s not for rent.
JACK
I do tabletop photography. I could play starving artist up here during these rainy days.
LAUREN
Look, I don’t think this is a good idea. It’s raw, unheated. The dust alone...
JACK
I just really need a moment to get myself centered...find out who I am now. This would be the perfect healing Cocoon I need...You’d hardly know I’m here.
LAUREN
I’m not exactly sure how you’re going to find yourself among all this dust and junk from someone else’s life...
JACK
Six months.
Lauren starts to speak but is cut off --
JACK (CONT'D) Tops.
On the vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes.
LAUREN (softening)
Oh, I don’t see why not, no one else is using it. But I can’t rent it long-term, tough...And as long as the rent is on time, and you don’t bring any elephants up here to photograph -- I have a tenant below.
JACK No, Ma'am. Not unless it fits on top of a four-by-five tabletop...
Jack gives the space another a look with fresh eyes. They start back toward the door --
LAUREN
Almost forgot: No huzzies, either. This ain’t no hotel, it’s an attic in a family home...You got me?
JACK No Elephants or huzzies. Got it.
LAUREN
You can shower and cook downstairs.
Jack looks humbled.
LAUREN (CONT'D)
Okay, let’s wrap this up. It’s getting dark. Plus, it’s my tea time and I don’t mess with that. For anything.
An exaggerated smile grows on his face. Sigh.
INT. CAR - DAY - MOVING
Jack is driving. We can see a few of his belongings stacked in the back of his JEEP. He comes to a stop at a red light. Sees something, he pulls over.
Jack exits the car and walks to us. Stares at us. Wider to reveal he’s looking through a wrought iron fence, mesmerized by something OC. His POV:
EXT. CEMETERY - DAY
A wide swath of cemetery, gravestones and mausoleums as far as the eye can see.
We hear the sudden gust of dozen of birds FLAPPING their wings high above. Jack looks up and catching a murder of Crows flying off the tree top above him. WTF!
EXT. SIDEWALK - DAY - LATER
Jack is unloading boxes onto the sidewalk from the Jeep.
INSERT: SOMEONE’S POV. Watching Jack through the window’s closed blinds.
CUT TO:
INT. ATTIC - NIGHT
Jack is setting up a section of colorful Christmas lights, and a few neon lights are already in place. He steps back to take it in: Despite its austere nature, the space looks warmer and cozier.
EXT. GALVIN HOUSE - DAY (1961)
A fall day. The green Chevy Bel Air is parked out front. Suddenly a giant’s hand descends from above, picks up the car, and carries it into the heavens.
INT. ATTIC - DAY - CONTINUOUS (PRESENT DAY)
Jack places a green scale model car on the tabletop set, contemplates it...blasts it with an air bulb to remove dust.
POP! Jack fires off a series of frames--the strobes BEEPING with each shot. None of are providing the creative payoff he desired. He stops shooting, frustrated.
JACK Shit! Shit! Shit!
Jack slams his fist against the tabletop and a spool of black tape falls and rolls away...into a dark space.
JACK (CONT'D)
Fuck me.
He pops a small flashlight and walks on --
JACK (CONT'D)
Where have you gone?
Jack spots two trunks in the dark crawl space at the end of the attic. He opens a trunk: comic books and other retro toys and ephemera. He flips the second: A plush “Charlie the Chimp” doll stares up at us. He moves the Monkey to the side, revealing another doll--its ear-to-ear toothy grin seems familiar, unnerving, creepy AF.
OVER: Sound of distant music. Jack notes it and moves towards the sound, ending over an air vent from wense the melancholy Gramophone-style tune is emanating.
AT THE SET:
Jack removes the car and places the doll in its place. He begins posing the figure, taking shots, checking the image on a monitor. He take dozens, growing anxious, then angry.
He snatches the doll from the table and raises it to smash it before catching himself, breaths and softens.
Jack tosses Smiley back in the trunk and slams the lid shut.
EXT. WOODS - DAY
Jack is jogging in a wooded area, releasing steam. The trail is delineated but not beaten.
He turns off the path and comes to a babbling brook, sits at the edge of the stone overlook, the water flowing beneath his feet. He stares at the rushing water...closes his eyes and breaths.
ANGLE: From underneath the rippling water, we see a YOUNG BOY with a Scally cap and suspenders sitting on the overlook!
Jack snaps out of it, startled!! Looks about to regain himself. No one else around.
INT. HOUSE FOYER - DUSK - MOMENTS LATER
Jack enters returning from his run grounded, albeit winded. There is a package by the door. He picks it up and enters.
A melancholy melody comes from inside the main apartment (we’ve heard it before). He stops, notes it and begin to lean in...
The door opens catching him off guard, Lauren pokes out.
LAUREN
Tea?
INT. GALVIN HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DUSK
Jack and Lauren stand in the middle of the empty unrented space in a pool of blue. Each holds a tea cup, sipping the steaming herbs.
JACK
I heard some music. It seemed familiar. Gentle.
Lauren looks at him quizzically.
LAUREN
Music? From here? Maybe the neighbor from across the way. Nothing else here as you can see.
JACK
Except tea and a few seats.
LAUREN
Yes... I come by and sit here occasionally to think. I figured I might as well make it a moment. How’s your tea?
JACK
Proper.
Lauren Smiles.
JACK (CONT'D)
Have you owned the house long?
LAUREN
My husband bought in 1970.
JACK
Ah. I haven’t seen him around.
LAUREN
I’m widowed.
JACK I’m sorry.
LAUREN
It’s okay, it’s been some time now.
JACK
Why haven’t you sold it?
LAUREN
My husband and I started a life and family here. So I can’t bring myself to fully live in it or sell it.
JACK
How did you guys meet, if I may ask?
LAUREN
We worked as Carnies at an amusement park. Jack had the brightest smile I’d ever seen and I was taken by him straight away. He was also very creative with his hands, and artist really, and made all sorts of things but dolls and puppets were his specialty. I worked in the office for the owner logging the day’s receipts and doing the weekly payroll for the crew and performers. Jack and I were young and fell in love. We got married secretly--no one could know-there was a strict carnival policy against it. The owner was very found of me...and, of course, didn’t think the rule applied to him. He could be overly impetuous at times and things became very uncomfortable over time...
Lauren looks deep inside to continue.
JACK
You don’t...
She raises the cup as if to say: “I have to finish.” She sets the cup down on a stool to brace herself. Note the steam rising from the teacup. Through this vapor, we can see flashes of her story come in and out...
LAUREN
He found out and confronted us. Dermot and Jack got into a bad fight, and the fighting Irishman in Jack easily got the better of Dermot. It was quite for a few days afterward.
LAUREN (CONT'D)
Then Dermot and his men ambushed Jack while he was on a break and beat him to within an inch of his life.
Lauren begins to tear. Jack reaches out.
JACK
I’m terribly...I didn’t mean to upset you.
LAUREN
I have to get this out, please. Dermot cut his face from ear to ear as a reminder. Marked him forever. There wasn’t anything I could do. Then he fired us and Jack was blacklisted from the carnival circuit across the country. He was never the same. He sank into a deep depression, began to drink heavily, and...
Jack grabs her hand as she weeps.
From the back of the dark apartment: two broken figures.
INT. ATTIC - NIGHT - LATER
Jack retrieves the slides, cleans them with a few blasts of air, and scans the analog images into the digital domain.
He scrolls through the images on his computer -- mostly images of people at an amusement park. One gets his attention: A FAMILY (man, woman, child) staring into the camera stoically. We can make out some aspects of an amusement attraction behind them.
Jack magnifies and hovers over each of their faces, then zooms in on -- the NAMEPLATE on the the man’s vest. It reads: “Galvin.”
After a pregnant beat, he closes the computer.
INT. ATTIC - NIGHT - LATER
On the Clock: 11:22pm.
Jack is lying in bed twirling a dual-faced Thaumatrope novelty of Smiley from the crate, grinning on one side and sad on the reverse, merging into one grotesque “Glasgowed” freak. PUSH IN on the hypnotic toy (slow mo) until --
MATCH DISSOLVE:
CONEY ISLAND LUNA PARK - DAY
On the STEEPLECHASE EMBLEM.
ON JACK: sitting on the railing by the beach considering the landscape. He jumps off and walks on as we favor the iconic Parachute Jump tower.
Jack enters the Coney Island Museum Bar. The place is empty. The barkeep, Kat, is behind the counter.
KAT
Hi. What can I get you today?
JACK
I’m here to visit the museum.
KAT
Won’t open for another 30 minutes. Cold one to keep you company until then?
JACK
Ah, sure. Why not. (looking at menu)
I’ll have the...Glasgow Grin. Sounds just like what I need.
KAT
Do you now?
JACK Strong?
KAT
The beer - yes. But the name of this little pour has a legend onto itself.
JACK
Do tell.
KAT
So, back in the day if you had a Glasgow grin it meant you had crossed or really pissed someone off, and had been cut (motions) earto-ear. Bullshit macho code.
JACK
Sold. My kind of beer. And some company until the museum opens?
She opens two. Hands one to Jack.
KAT
Be careful what you ask for...I’m Kat.
They toast bottles.
JACK Jack. Pleasure.
INT. CONEY ISLAND MUSEUM - DAY (LATER)
Jack is sitting behind three empty grinners. Kat passes jack the final end of a joint. A few people have formed a line to the museum.
KAT
Kill it. Th Museum is officially now open.
Kat swing around the bar and leads Jack toward the staircase, stops. She takes the tickets from the group. Jack is last.
KAT (CONT'D) (to Jack)
Admission is five dollars.
JACK
A woman of many hats and talents.
KAT
It’s the off-season. I’m also your tour guide. Come on.
A TOURIST COUPLE enters.
KAT (CONT'D)
Shit. Go on. I’ll be up in a minute.
Jack climbs the steps and enters into the museum proper. He scans the ephemera and comes upon the display case with the Smiley doll. [flash back here?]
Kat touches jack’s shoulder startling him.
JACK Hey.
KAT
You were in another world.
JACK
Yeah. I think I came here as a child. But it’s mostly a blur.
KAT
Amusement parks are mostly a blur.
JACK
The exhibits don’t seem to be very well protected.
KAT
No body wants this stuff. Most are fakes recreated based on old photos. Brings in the tourist: (using air quotes)
“Exit through the gift-shop” and all that.
JACK (mimicking her)
“And enter at the bar.”
Kat smiles: Careful. Jack shifts gears.
JACK (CONT'D) And this happy guy?
KAT
Smily? Same. I heard the original was stolen in the 70s.
JACK Stolen?
KAT (whispering, playfully)
Whoa. I’m not supposed to say that. Yes...Why do you ask?
A tourist calls from downstairs.
TOURIST (O.S.)
Anyone working the bar? We’d love to get a fews beers.
KAT (down to tourist) Coming! (to Jack) I gotta go.
She hands him a flier of a Burlesque show.
JACK Burlesque?
KAT Careful. JACK No judgement.
TOURIST (O.S.)
We’d really love some service, if it isn’t too much trouble.
KAT Phone. Come on, phone!
Jack pulls his cell. She bumps phones and contact info is exchanged. BLEEP.
JACK Nice. Tech.
KAT
I’ll be here. Come on by.
Kat shrugs, leaves. Jack smiles brightly, almost blushing.
Jack walks back to the Smiley display, leans in and gives the doll an eye-to-eye.
JACK (tapping on glass; whispering)
You orphaned bastard...What’s your story?
CUT TO:
INT. NYC SUBWAY - NIGHT
Jack is spinning the Thaumatrope in the empty subway car, lost in thought.
INSERT: A dark and ominous sky as a bolt of lightening and deafening CLAP OF THUNDER strike.
INT. ATTIC - DAY
Jack enters dripping wet. He slowly walks over to Smiley.
JACK
So. Turns out you’re one bona fide son-of-a-bitch, huh? What’s your story?
A drip coming from the attic’s roof falls into a tray. The drops begin to form specular electric waves on the ceiling, slowly hypnotizing Jack. He looks off and sees --
A silhouette of Smily moving along the wall. Jack spins but the doll is where he left it, still.
On Smiley as we DOLLY/ZOOM on it. It turns its head (SHOCK! Did it tilt or move on purpose?) --
INSERT: On a CLAP of thunder, the slide projector WHIRLS to life casting retro images of Coney Island on the wall.
On CHARLIE THE CHIMP: The toy’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. Then the plush figure begins CLAPPING its Cymbals and SHRIEKING in a disorienting rhythmic sync.
A phalanx of carnival figures appear from the darkness: burlesque dancer, strong JACK holding barbells, bearded lady, etc. The dancer blows a fire ball to reveal she has the Glasgow Grin! In fact all the Carnys do!
Smiley is perched on a shelf and is the ringleader.
The string of Christmas lights wraps around Jack’s torso and arms, constraining him to the chair.
The group parts and a Lauren seated in front of a small table glides into view. It’s a Fortune Teller, complete with a crystal ball and “the grin!”
FORTUNE TELLER
Ahh. Here were are again, Jackie, Jr. But don’t fret, we’re only here to brighten up your dark days. See...
INSERT: The carousel on the projector spins out of control. On a glint of light --
EXT. CEMETERY - DAY (1977) [FLAHBACK]
Young Jack and his mother are placing flowers on a grave. Gravestone: Jack Galvin. August 9, 1942 - December 2, 1977.
Jack feels his face, turns to the funhouse mirror -- sees the that he now has the Glasgow scar! And the realization. SCREAMS!
JACK Noooooooo!
The projector beams a family photo onto Jack (we’ve seen it before). From this tableau we can suddenly make out Smiley’s silhouette come to rest on Jack’s chest, increasing in size as it comes closer until --
LAUREN
Welcome back home, Jack. We’ve missed you...
JACK (fighting the blinding light) Mother? Is that you?
LAUREN
Yes, dear. Everything’s going to be okay now.
She places the Smiley on Jack’s lap.
JACK No!
LAUREN
You’re finally back where you belong...
We see a momentary superimposition of young Jack’s traumatized face when he witnessed his father’s suicide and Jack’s adult face...
JACK Nooooooooo!
PULL OUT as the Carny Clan moves in and encircles Jack as he begins to recover from his panic attack and slowly embrace his reality...
A melancholy version of Carol of the Bells plays over.
FADE TO BLACK. THE END.