POLITICOS
Pilot
"The Perfect Human"
Written by
Matt Reynolds
626.808.2083
[email protected]
OVER BLACK
SUPER: 93 DAYS TO LOS ANGELES MAYORAL PRIMARY
STATIC. Stations fade in and out as a radio is tuned. Country
music. Rock radio. A gospel preacher.
Then -EXT. OWEN’S VALLEY DESERT - DAY
A dry, cracked and inhospitable land. A cloud of toxic,
alkaline dust swirls in the air.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
The buzz word dripping from the
lips of the lamestream media this
week is conservation.
CO-HOST (V.O.)
Ration water. Like, don’t exploit
resources. Not if there’s a spotted
turtle or sprinkled, dimpled salmon
or somesuch.
Dissolving through other desert landscapes. No water. No
evidence of life either.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
Hah! A spotted turtle!
CO-HOST (V.O.)
Y’know. These people...
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
Let me enlighten you about water in
Los Angeles, listeners. That
resource we take for granted...
INT./EXT. LOS ANGELES AQUADUCT - DAY
Spiraling through a tunnel. WHOOSH. A torrent of water moves
over us like a Tsunami, water splashing against the lens.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
One word. Population. Undocumented
immigrants flooding across the
border from Mexicali to Calexico.
Many of them end up here, in the
great city of Los Angeles.
2.
EXT. HIGHWAYS - DAY (VARIOUS SHOTS)
Traffic grinds over the city’s crumbling roads and through
graffiti defaced underpasses. This is a Los Angeles drained
of glamour, a Los Angeles that’s almost Third World.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
They suck on the teat of the Los
Angeles aquaduct like they’re
entitled! Like there’s an infinite
supply!
EXT. LOS ANGELES - CITY HALL SOUTH - DAY
Passing a line of angry, masked protesters on a street
outside city hall.
They chant “Los Angeles is Dying of Thirst” over and over.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
When we talk about not meeting our
water needs, take a closer look at
them. The people who are bleeding
California dry!
A row of riot police, holding shields and batons, move within
feet of the protesters.
EXT. SWIMMING POOL - DAY
Pristine. Bone dry. A blurred mosaic of colored tiles.
A Puerto Rican man peers inside. He is dressed in a purple
Mickey Mouse t-shirt.
CO-HOST (V.O.)
And it’ll only get worse if youknow-who is elected...
INT. BURBANK HOLIDAY INN - BANQUET ROOM - DAY
On a raised stage, a black man, CODY BROWN (31) enters a
shaft of light and waves at an unseen audience.
He has a shaved head, a charismatic smile, and is supercool
in a tailored black suit. He’s muscular and powerful, like a
heavy weight boxer.
3.
CODY
(into mic)
Let me tell you something right
now. To get this city moving again,
we need new ideas.
FREEZE FRAME on Cody.
SUPER: COUNCILMAN CODY BROWN. DEMOCRATIC CANDIDATE FOR MAYOR.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
The left love this man. But what
are his credentials? No experience
running a city this size. How old
is he, thirty?
CO-HOST (V.O.)
Thirty-one.
Unfreeze as Cody raises a finger to make his point. He’s
perfectly poised, with an air of supreme confidence. Maybe
overconfidence.
CODY
Talk is cheap. It’s what you do
that counts.
EXT. BURBANK HOLIDAY INN - DAY (A LITTLE EARLIER)
Cody crosses to the entrance of the hotel to meet and greet a
multiracial crowd. He kisses the heads of babies, shakes
hands, and hugs supporters.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
Let’s pray something or someone
comes along and knocks this birdie
off his perch.
INT. HIGH SCHOOL AUDITORIUM - DAY
A rally bustling with raucous supporters. The all-white and
mostly female crowd is packed to the rafters.
A spotlight catches NICK SAIZAN (early 40s) as he walks
between outstretched female hands.
He’s dressed in an immaculate Hugo Boss suit, has perfect
wavy blonde hair, perfectly aligned teeth, perfect
everything.
4.
CO-HOST (V.O.)
If only conservatives weren’t stuck
with such a lightweight...
FREEZE FRAME as Nick flashes a photo-op ready smile.
SUPER: NICK SAIZAN. ACTOR. REPUBLICAN CANDIDATE FOR MAYOR.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
I disagree. Saizan might just be
the GOP’s next Ronald Reagan. Both
leading men, both ahead of their
time.
A woman places something in Nick’s hand. A napkin marked with
red lipstick.
INT. DENTIST’S OFFICE - DAY
Nick reclines in a dentist chair. A DENTAL ASSISTANT (early
20s) appears above him.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
He’s clean cut. A family man.
NICK
If I could just kick the Diet Coke
and coffee.
DENTAL ASSITANT
It’s okay. If I was running for
mayor, I’d want my teeth to sparkle
too.
Before Nick can respond, the dental assistant places cotton
padding into his mouth.
INT. DENTIST’S OFFICE - RESTROOM - DAY
Nick admires his whitened teeth in a mirror.
He takes out a prescription bottle of Adderall, pops a couple
of pills into his mouth, washing them down with water.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
He understands our values. This man
is a true conservative.
Nick looks down at the lipstick marked napkin, grimacing, a
man uncomfortable in his own skin.
5.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
A new poll puts him two points
ahead of the incumbent...
INT. CEDARS-SINAI MEDICAL CENTER - DAY
The incumbent, Mayor GULINO (early 70s), arrives at the front
desk, flanked on either side by bodyguards.
The burden of power has taken its toll. Though he’s not
frail, deep lines are etched in his face. He has sagging
jowls, permanent bags beneath his eyes.
CO-HOST (V.O.)
If that isn’t an advertisement for
liberal excess, I don’t know what
is.
A TRASHY NURSE (30s) looks somewhat starstruck as she greets
Gulino. She’s in scrubs but looks like she’d be just as
comfortable serving coffee in an all-night diner.
TRASHY NURSE
Do I know you?
GULINO
No, sweetheart. You must be
mistaken.
FREEZE FRAME as Gulino pops a piece of nicotine gum into his
mouth.
SUPER: EDGAR “ED” GULINO. MAYOR OF LOS ANGELES.
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY
Gulino's wife, MARY, (60s) sleeps in bed. She has tubes up
her nose. Her skin is clammy and translucent, hangs loosely
over frail bones.
Gulino watches her from outside the room, his expression
tinged with guilt and regret.
CO-HOST (V.O.)
Election year. Four years of
drought. A looming water shortage.
Whatever you think of him, he’s
been dealt a pretty crappy hand.
6.
INT. ANOTHER HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY (A LITTLE EARLIER)
Gulino rounds the edge of a bed and sits on the corner,
unzipping his pants. The Trashy Nurse bends down into his
lap, bobbing up and down between his legs.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
But enough about poor Ed. How about
we take some calls?
A SLURPING sound...
INT. SAIZAN HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY
The slurping continues as a shaggy dog laps milk and soggy
Cheerios up off the floor.
A war zone. Breakfast dishes everywhere.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
Leon from North Hollywood. You’re
through to the Steve and Steve
show.
Nick Saizan’s overwhelmed and pregnant wife, SASHA SAIZAN
(early 40s), places cups and pans into a dishwasher.
INT. SAIZAN HOUSE - DOWNSTAIRS HALLWAY - DAY
Off a decade-old framed wedding photograph of Sasha and Nick.
Keep pace with Sasha as she moves quickly past her screaming
two-year-old daughter, REAGAN (snot on her nose, ketchup and
Lord knows what else on her face).
LEON (V.O.)
I just want to say, Los Angeles
shouldn’t just be scared of Cody
Brown, it should be terrified.
The toddler grabs for Sasha’s leg.
SASHA
(into phone)
Get us a room at the Hilton.
Sasha continues past her four-year-old, NIXON. He sits at the
foot of the stairs, playing on an iPad mini.
SASHA
(to Nixon)
Get your shoes on.
(MORE)
7.
SASHA (CONT'D)
(into phone)
I don’t care. I need to see you.
Now.
EXT. WESTWOOD - SAIZAN HOUSE - DAY
Sasha reverses her SUV out of the garage. The brakes SQUEAL
as she turns into the road and drives away.
LEON (V.O.)
I’m scared what might happen if
Cody Brown is elected. I really
am...
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
Do you have your radio on, Leon?
Could you turn it off?
INT. HILTON HOTEL ROOM - DAY
GARY (mid-40s) opens the door on an out-of-sorts Sasha. He is
a heavyset man with a neat goatee and kind eyes.
SASHA
I swear I saw a Daily News reporter
in the lobby. Same one I met at
CPAC last year.
GARY
Relax, no one knows you’re here.
You’re paranoid.
INT. HILTON HOTEL ROOM - LATER
Gary and Sasha land on the bed naked. Sasha shifts her butt
into his crotch, and they start to fuck. Gary places his
hands on her pregnant belly.
LEON (V.O.)
I mean, we got a nigger in the
White House already. We really want
one in charge of this city?
CO-HOST (V.O.)
Whoa. Hold your horses. That’s way
out of line...
LEON
Wait --
8.
INT. CAR (PARKED) - DAY
LEON (20s) holds a cell phone to his ear. He’s handsome, even
pretty, with groomed blonde hair, sad eyes.
LEON
Let me finish.
But the call has already been disconnected. Leon turns up the
volume on the car radio.
RADIO HOST (V.O.)
Leon, we live in a free country.
But what you said right there, that
kind of bile, we won’t tolerate
that on our show.
CO-HOST (V.O.)
Not in our house, Leon from North
Hollywood. Not -Leon switches the radio off, his unaffected eyes glazing
over.
GUNSHOTS and SCREAMING -INT. TOWN HALL - DAY
CLOSE on Leon as he fires a twelve-gauge shotgun. It spits
out hot, burning cartridges. His face is placid, his cheeks
are flushed.
Echoes of desperate, tinny screams. It’s not clear where Leon
is, or how big of a crowd he’s shooting into. It’s not clear
if this is real or fantasy, or if it’s sometime in the past
or in the future.
INT. CEDARS-SINAI MEDICAL CENTER - HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY
Gulino plants a kiss on his wife’s forehead. He takes her
palm, presses it to his cheek.
Mary talks with her eyes closed, every rasped word requiring
effort.
MARY
Can you get me a glass of water?
Gulino looks around for a jug of water.
KELSEY (O.S.)
I got it, Dad.
9.
Gulino turns to his eldest daughter, KELSEY (late 30s).
Dressed in jeans, a Strokes t-shirt and subtle makeup, Kelsey
looks her age, in spite of her efforts.
She pours her mom a glass of water.
KELSEY
(re: water)
Better enjoy it while it lasts,
right Dad?
It’s not an attempt at humor, it’s straight-up sarcasm.
Gulino doesn’t like it. Not one little bit.
INT./EXT - LIMO (PARKED) - DAY
Gulino slides into the backseat of the car, next to his Chief
of Staff and right hand man, TOM GATES (late 40s).
GULINO
What does our pollster say?
TOM
Eleven points behind Brown. Right
in line with the Times poll from
earlier this week.
GULINO
Fuck this.
(to his driver)
Take us to City Hall.
INT. CEDARS-SINAI MEDICAL CENTER - PARKING STRUCTURE - DAY
Gulino’s limo drives out, as a second-generation Prius drives
in.
INT. MANISHA’S PRIUS - CONTINUOUS
A pretty, soft-spoken Sri Lankan-American girl named MANISHA
(early 20s) pulls her car into a parking space.
Sitting passenger side is her pale and lung cancer afflicted
boyfriend, GABE. He’s wearing his perpetual uniform of long
sleeve Gap t-shirt and baggy jeans.
Manisha leans over and kisses him on the cheek.
GABE
See you at two.
10.
MANISHA
I’m in Burbank for the TV
interview. They need me all day. We
went through this last night,
remember?
GABE
Right. Chemo never gets in the way
of your political causes.
MANISHA
Maybe I can get away for an hour.
GABE
Don’t help me out just because you
feel guilty.
MANISHA
It’s not like that. Last time I
checked, we were still in a
relationship.
GABE
Not now, all right, Manisha? Not
when I’m about get hit with more
radiation than Doctor Manhattan.
Gabe gets out of the car.
MANISHA
Gabe, wait. I’ll find a way to get
here. I promise.
He closes the door without saying goodbye.
Manisha is neither angry nor upset. But the day’s just
started and she’s already emotionally drained.
INT. BURBANK HOLIDAY INN - BANQUET ROOM - DAY
Cody stands on the slightly raised stage. His jacket is off
now, his shirt sleeves rolled up.
He clasps the mic, modulates his voice with the skill and
technique of a veteran MC.
CODY
“Who is Cody Brown?” Let me answer
that by telling you all what I’m
not. I’m not somebody who’s gonna
say anything to get elected.
(MORE)
11.
CODY (CONT'D)
I’m not someone who’s gonna flush
my values down the drain because
some campaign strategist tells me
that’s what I need to do to win.
The audience punctuates each of the politician’s points with
CHEERS or APPLAUSE.
CODY
You know why? The people of L.A.
deserve better than that. Doesn’t
matter if you’re from the Eastside
or the Westside. You all deserve
better than that!
INT. BURBANK HOLIDAY INN - LOBBY - SAME
Brown’s Caucasian campaign strategist, RACHEL (mid-30s) -doe eyed, beautiful, all business -- enters the lobby
carrying a string wrapped cardboard box.
She responds to the pandemonium coming from the banquet room
ahead.
As she walks, ELWOOD (Cody’s black co-campaign manager)
sidles up to her. He’s munching on a scrambled egg burrito
and carrying a styrofoam cup of coffee.
ELWOOD
(re: box)
What you got there? Lunch for your
pet snake?
The tension between these two is palpable. No smiles, no
warmth. Just barbed daggers that come in the form of words.
ELWOOD (CONT’D)
Where you been? The TV crew got
here an hour ago.
RACHEL
You give Cody the Bowen DVD?
ELWOOD
Nah. Coached him through it.
RACHEL
So, he’s going to deal with a curve
ball how? By batting his eyelashes
or endearing her with his permasmile?
12.
ELWOOD
Fuck you.
RACHEL
What campaign did you run before
this one, Elwood? Inglewood dog
catcher?
INT. BURBANK HOLIDAY INN - BANQUET ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Elwood and Rachel enter the banquet room from the back. Cody
is doing a little Q&A.
CODY
Yeah. The lady wearing the white
scarf. Right there. Yeah.
Someone passes a microphone to a nervous African-American
GIRL (early 20s).
NERVOUS GIRL
(into mic)
I just want to know... If you’re
not elected mayor...
JEERING from the crowd. Cody smiles, hushes them with his
hands.
NERVOUS GIRL (CONT’D)
Will you please run for President
of the United States?
As BOOS give way to CHEERS, Rachel and Elwood settle into
their seats at the back of the room.
RACHEL
Where is she?
ELWOOD
Conference room D.
RACHEL
You look over the questions?
ELWOOD
Trust me. I got this.
Still, I’d
if I could
mean, it’s
is any big
RACHEL
feel a whole lot better
take a peek at them. I
not like this interview
deal.
(MORE)
13.
RACHEL (CONT'D)
Just one of the highest rated shows
in one of the largest markets in
America.
ELWOOD
Don’t have ‘em.
Rachel, barely masking her irritation, hands Elwood her box
and bag.
RACHEL
Conference room D, you say?
Elwood nods. As Rachel leaves he looks down at the box,
reacting to a scratching noise inside.
He opens the box to find a litter of baby mice.
ELWOOD
Fuck me. I fuckin’ knew it.
INT. BURBANK HOLIDAY INN - CORRIDOR - MOMENTS LATER
As Rachel walks down the corridor, she meets Manisha coming
the other way.
RACHEL
Manisha. You’re late.
MANISHA
No, I’m early. Elwood said I could
start at ten.
Rachel bristles at the mention of his name.
RACHEL
Elwood.
MANISHA
Yeah.
RACHEL
Canvas the crowd. Get them on our
e-mail list.
Rachel leaves. Manisha continues towards the banquet room.
She turns a corner to find JON VD (early 20s), the Brown
campaign’s wonkish Cuban-American intern, holding two cups of
coffee.
14.
JON VD
Two brown sugars, an inch for
creamer.
(off her look)
What’s wrong? Did the wicked witch
of the west yell at you again?
MANISHA
I think she might be in a good mood
today. She actually called me by my
first name.
Jon VD hands her a coffee.
JON VD
That’s a first.
Manisha smiles.
INT. LIMO (MOVING) - DAY
Nick’s bleary-eyed older brother MARCUS SAIZAN (mid 40s)
drives. Nick sits in the back.
NICK
I thought I told you to bring the
Ford.
MARCUS
You did?
NICK
Attention to detail. Didn’t Dad
hammer that into us during his
senate run, Marcus?
The rearview captures Marcus’ blank look.
NICK
You know what sunk Kerry in ‘04?
Windsurfing.
MARCUS
I thought it was the swiftboat ads.
Him looking like a Frenchman.
NICK
My point is, all it takes is a shot
of me in a chauffeur driven limo.
Next thing you know, I’m out of
touch with average Angelenos.
15.
MARCUS
(alarmed)
What do you mean? I need this job,
Nick. I got child support payments
coming out of my ass.
Nick shakes his head. It’s clear his message isn’t sinking
in.
MARCUS
You know what? You’re no John
Kerry. You got better teeth.
EXT. PASADENA SUBURBS - STREET - DAY
Tree lined. Rows of affluent residences. The shiny, black
limo stops next to an orange tree.
INT./EXT - LIMO - CONTINUOUS
Nick rolls down the window. Marcus goes to open the drivers
side door -NICK
You can sit this one out, Marcus.
MARCUS
What? Why?
NICK
Because it’s a private meeting, and
I’d rather do it alone.
Marcus sinks into his seat, peeved. Nick reaches over and
pats him on the shoulder.
NICK
Hand it over.
Marcus takes a black leather hip flask out of his jacket
pocket, passes it to Nick.
NICK
You need to clean up your act.
Fast.
Nick gets out of the car and walks towards a renovated Dutch
colonial.
The sound of SPRAYING water --
16.
EXT. PASADENA HOUSE - GARDEN - A LITTLE LATER
Rows of lawn sprinklers burst to life.
Nick sits at a table, poolside.
NICK
Jerry spoke very highly of you. I
heard about the work you did for
the conservative party in London.
You turned that campaign around.
Across from him sits BILLY SLATER (late 30s). He’s dressed in
a white terry bathrobe. His bleach blonde hair is damp and
mussed up.
Billy is a no-nonsense, ex-pat Englishman who started his
career as a spin doctor for Tony Blair’s Labour Party before
defecting to the Tories as a campaign strategist.
Like a Brit version of Lee Atwater, he’s a master in the dark
art of politics. Though unlike Atwater, his loyalty conforms
only to the size of his check.
BILLY
I consider that one of my greatest
achievements. That toff Cameron was
a hard sell.
NICK
What are your thoughts?
BILLY
Honestly? I think that if you don’t
get your shit together quickly,
you’re going get beaten. Badly.
Nick bristles.
NICK
You see the numbers in the L.A.
Times earlier this week?
BILLY
Of the three Republicans you’re the
frontrunner, nine points ahead of
your nearest rival.
(beat)
But you’re also six points behind
Cody Brown.
NICK
And five ahead of the mayor.
17.
BILLY
If I put my dead grandmother in the
race right now, she’d beat the
mayor.
Noting a flicker of offense in Nick’s face, Billy shifts his
tone from confrontational to vaguely ambivalent.
BILLY (CONT’D)
Jerry called me because he said you
needed my help. Frankly, it’s no
skin off my nose if I get to spend
the whole summer working on my tan,
drinking beer and staring at Gwen’s
tits.
NICK
I told Jerry that I was looking to
finesse, not reinvent.
BILLY
How’s this for finesse? I’m not
sure I even know what you stand
for.
NICK
I’ll admit. There are times when
we’ve strayed off message.
BILLY
That’s what happens if you let
people blow smoke up your arse. You
lose sight of what you stand for.
I’ve seen it happen a million
times.
NICK
What next, then?
BILLY
First, you’ll need to give your
campaign manager the boot.
NICK
Wait a minute. Jerry said you’d be
open to a consulting position.
BILLY
Well, Jerry was wrong... Second,
You need a cause. Something we can
hang on you that’s beyond the usual
fiscally-responsible-smallgovernment bollocks.
18.
Billy takes a sip from a glass of water.
BILLY
And it would be nice if you had a
coherent plan to stop the whole
city from disappearing into a giant
sinkhole.
Nick ponders. His ego may be bruised but he’s no idiot. He
knows Billy just spoke the God’s Honest Truth.
NICK
All right then. When do we start?
BILLY
I didn’t say I want the job. You
need to give me a few days to
decide if I want to work with you.
Nick glances over Billy’s shoulder as a WOMAN crosses from
the house to the other side of the pool. She’s wearing a
revealing silk gown.
She glances at Nick, blows him a kiss then strips naked and
dives into the pool.
BILLY (CONT’D)
(to Nick)
That’s Gwen.
CUT TO:
INT. HILTON HOTEL ROOM - DAY
Sasha lies in a tangle of bedsheets, smoking a cigarette.
Gary is standing, in boxer shorts. He searches through the
pockets of his pants.
GARY
Where’s my inhaler? Fuck if I’m
going home. Got too much going on
today.
Sasha blows smoke into the air.
SASHA
You know how hard it is to dress up
like a little doll? Laughing at his
jokes, pretending to give a shit?
19.
GARY
(between wheezing)
You’re a politician’s wife. It
comes with the territory.
SASHA
Are you okay? You sound terrible.
Gary searches the pockets of his suit jacket for his inhaler,
trying to ignore Sasha’s rising concern.
SASHA
You can’t find it? Are you kidding
me?
GARY
Jesus, Sasha. Will you be quiet for
a second?
SASHA
Well, what if you have an asthma
attack? I have to explain who I am,
or who you are?
GARY
You know what? I think you might be
the most neurotic women I’ve ever
been with.
(re: cigarette)
And will you put that out? It’s
their side that’s pro-choice,
remember?
She stubs out the cigarette.
SASHA
There. Happy now?
She crosses to bathroom.
GARY
What’s your problem?
SASHA
I’m not a teenager, and I don’t
feel like listening to one of your
fucking lectures right now.
Sasha locks the bathroom door.
GARY
If you find me passed out in the
lobby, call 911 before you step
over me!
20.
No reply. Gary shakes his head, reaches for a remote and
switches on a wall-mounted television.
THE TV
Cable news.
Muted. Shots of the entrance to a canyon. Parked police
trucks in the foreground.
Gary begins to get dressed. He finds his inhaler on the floor
next to the bed, beneath his shirt.
He places the inhaler to his mouth, is about to release the
insulin when something stops him cold -THE TV
A photo of a man in his mid-30s with a shaven head.
ON SCREEN GRAPHIC: LONGTIME SAIZAN AIDE FOUND DEAD
GARY
Holy fuckin’ shit.
EXT. PASADENA SUBURBS - STREET - DAY
Nick bangs his fist on the roof of the limo.
Marcus reclines in his seat, napping. Nick is about to tap on
the window when his Blackberry rings.
He takes it out of his pocket, checks the caller ID.
INT. HILTON HOTEL ROOM - DAY
Seated on the bed, Gary talks into his cell phone.
Sasha stands in the background behind him, her expression
grave.
GARY
Nick. It’s Gary... I don’t know how
to say this, Boss. You might want
to sit down.
NICK
What is it?
GARY
It’s Jeff. He’s gone.
21.
Off Nick, speechless with shock.
EXT. CITY HALL PARKING LOT - SECURITY ENTRANCE - DAY
Gulino’s limo passes through.
INT./EXT. LIMO - DAY
A splotch of rain hits the darkened, bulletproof glass.
Gulino jolts.
GULINO
(to driver)
Stop the car!
EXT. CITY HALL - PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS
Gulino gets out of the car and stares up at the darkened,
smouldering sky. Another drop of rain lands on his forehead.
He smiles and wipes the wetness off his head. THUNDER in the
distance. RUMBLING.
The last crack of sunlight disappears and Gulino is bathed in
gray dullness.
The skies open and it rains. Impossibly hard rain, unlike
anything California has ever seen.
GULINO
Yes! That’s it! That’s fuckin’ it!
(beat)
Gates! Do you see this? Do you
believe it?!
TOM (O.S.)
Sir?
SMASH CUT TO:
INT. LIMO - DAY
Reality. Gulino snaps out of his daydream and turns to Tom,
who leans into the car from outside.
TOM
Mr. Mayor? Shall we?
Gulino opens his door, and steps into harsh sunlight.
22.
INT. CITY HALL - MAYOR’S OFFICE - DAY
Gulino sits behind his desk, listening as Tom briefs him.
TOM
People are hurting all over the
West. I don’t need to tell you
that. Crops beaten down for four
years. Food prices are going
through the roof. Los Angeles has
to share the pain.
GULINO
Let another city in the state take
the fucking hit. This is an
election year.
TOM
Sacramento is already on the phone
every day. The governor’s losing
patience -- wants to know why we’re
not rationing water.
GULINO
This is a clusterfuck. That’s what
it is.
TOM
Speaking of clusterfucks. Sanchez
wants to meet on the dust control
thing.
Gulino looks pained.
GULINO
I thought that was fuckin’ settled.
TOM
So did I. But our man got an e-mail
from him last night.
GULINO
An e-mail? What the fuck are they
using e-mail for? I don’t want any
kind of trail on this. Especially
not an electronic one.
(beat)
I’m trying to quench the thirst of
the second largest city in America
and some bureaucratic nobody wants
to talk about a fuckin’ fresh water
river. Fuck. Tell him to fuckin’
deal with it.
23.
TOM
Sanchez is one of the few friends
we have left at water resources.
The Sierra Club is talking about a
lawsuit. I hear they’re asking
Robert Redford to get on board.
GULINO
Sundance can suck my dick. He can
suck Butch Cassidy’s dick too.
Tom breaks into a smile.
GULINO
Send your man down there. But be
discreet. Any other business?
Tom shakes his head. Gulino crosses to Tom and pats him on
the shoulder.
GULINO
Best fuckin’ chief of staff a mayor
could hope for. The snakes I got in
my administration. Self serving
pricks all have their eyes on the
exit. All looking to save their own
skins.
(beat)
Give me an honest answer. Because I
know not one of them will. Am I
fucked or am I fucked?
TOM
I’m not going to lie. It’s been a
tough couple of months. Hell, a
tough couple of years.
GULINO
My crowd -- at least what I thought
was my crowd -- they worship him.
It’s like he’s their own personal
Jesus. A fuckin’ messiah who
doesn’t believe in God.
TOM
Is the city going to feel safe in
the hands of a kid like Cody Brown?
No, Sir. I don’t believe it will.
That’s not to say I don’t admire
Mr. Brown’s political gifts. But a
30-year-old in charge of this city?
No.
24.
GULINO
Stranger things have happened.
TOM
Can he get Clinton or Pelosi to
stump for him? The party
establishment isn’t behind him.
They’re behind you.
GULINO
Maybe the establishment is the
problem.
TOM
The center will hold. It always
does.
Gulino stares into the bottom of a glass of bourbon.
GULINO
I used to believe that. Now, I’m
not so sure.
INT. BURBANK HOLIDAY INN - CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY
A male P.A. adjusts the temperature on an air conditioning
unit to seventy-eight degrees Fahrenheit.
A television crew: three cameramen, a lighting girl,
soundman, and a researcher prepare for their interview with
Cody Brown.
At the center of it all is CHELSEA BOWEN (early 30s) -- the
sexy, hotshot, presenter of the “Chelsea Bowen Show” on the
local Fox affiliate.
Bowen has one of the highest rated news shows in the Southern
California market. She’s known not only for her attention to
detail, but also her ability to debone her subjects.
Chelsea turns to the P.A., who taps on the air conditioning
unit with his finger.
CHELSEA
(to P.A.)
You can stop. Doesn’t have to be
too hot in here. Hell only has to
be unpleasant.
25.
INT. BURBANK HOLIDAY INN - SUITE - DAY
Cody stands in front of the mirror, now just in a sleeveless
tee and slacks. Rachel sits in the corner of the room,
scanning her iPad.
Elwood relaxes on the bed, shoes off.
RACHEL
You know we were supposed to be
there five minutes ago?
Cody slides on a brand new white shirt and fastens the cuffs.
CODY
It’s all good. Elwood gave me the
agenda. I’ll stay on message. I got
this.
RACHEL
Still, there are a few things I
want to go over.
CODY
Sure. No problem. Go right ahead.
RACHEL
Bowen’s sure to ask you about your
age and inexperience. Probably
going to be the first thing rolling
off her tongue.
CODY
I’ll just say what I always do. The
old and the wise got us into this
mess. It’s gonna take some youth to
get us out of it.
RACHEL
No. That’s what you say when you’re
taking friendly fire. You need to
go into specifics. This is a
skilled, intelligent woman. She’s
looking for her ratings to explode
so she can get her own hourly
opinion show on MSNBC.
ELWOOD
So, she’s a lefty. One of us.
RACHEL
She might be lining up a gig with
Roger Ailes and Fox News for all I
know.
26.
CODY
I dig Maddow. She ever hit us back?
ELWOOD
Nah. Won’t even return my e-mails.
Shit’s cold.
RACHEL
Forget Maddow. Think about today,
think about the next hour. This
woman is not our friend. Imagine
Couric-Palin. Only Bowen actually
loves going for the jugular.
(straight at Cody)
If we fuck this up, that shit is
going to stick.
That gets Cody’s attention, but only for a moment. He loops a
silk tie around his neck, sucks his lips, adopting an ironic
tone.
CODY
That shit ain’t gonna happen. Not
to Cody Brown. This nigga be well
read. Mark Twain ‘n shit. You feel
me?
ELWOOD
(smiling)
My nigga.
Rachel rolls her eyes.
INT. BURBANK HOLIDAY INN - CORRIDOR - DAY
Jon VD and Manisha are seated outside the conference room. VD
is buried deep in his laptop, studying district maps.
MANISHA
What’s taking them so long?
JON VD
Go. I can cover for you.
MANISHA
If I leave now, Rachel will feed me
to her snake.
JON VD
She really has a snake?
27.
INT. CEDARS-SINAI MEDICAL CENTER - CHEMOTHERAPY ROOM - DAY
Gabe sits in a puffy easy chair, mainlining a chemo drip. His
cell phone vibrates. He sees Manisha is calling and answers.
GABE
You’re not coming, are you?
INTERCUT:
INT. BURBANK HOLIDAY INN - CORRIDOR - DAY
Manisha by a window, talking quietly on her cell phone.
MANISHA
I’ll make it up to you. I promise.
GABE
Like you promised you’d pick me up?
MANISHA
Sorry. I can’t leave. They need me.
GABE
I understand.
MANISHA
Let me call you a cab -But he’s already disconnected.
MANISHA
Shit.
INT. BURBANK HOLIDAY INN - CONFERENCE ROOM - LATER
Through a camera viewfinder:
Pulling into focus on Cody, in the hot seat, drinking a glass
of water.
He squints as a P.A. spots him with a blinding light.
Chelsea takes a seat. Cody slides a transmitter onto his
belt.
CHELSEA
You need someone to help with that?
CODY
Nah, I got it.
28.
But as Cody struggles to thread the mic wire through his
suit, he looks a little out of his element.
CHELSEA
Here.
Chelsea reaches over to help him, intentionally exposing the
cleavage of her light blouse and giving Cody a good whiff of
her perfume. She clips the lava mic onto his lapel.
CHELSEA
There. All good.
Rachel watches all this in a monitor at the back of the room.
Elwood approaches as Jon VD and Manisha settle into seats
behind them.
ELWOOD
How we doing?
RACHEL
We’d been doing a whole lot better
if you didn’t feel the need to
constantly suck your boss’ dick.
ELWOOD
(taps his forehead)
I’m making sure he’s right up here.
Once he’s right in his head, the
rest will follow.
RACHEL
No, the rest will follow if he’s
properly prepared. He isn’t, thanks
to your horseshit.
ELWOOD
Fuck this. He’s going to massacre
this shit. I don’t even need to
watch.
Rachel hands him her iPad.
RACHEL
Here then. Go play Angry Birds.
Before Elwood can reply, a cameraman raises his hand.
CAMERAMAN
Ten seconds!
Cody takes one last drink of water as the cameraman counts
down with his fingers, then points at Chelsea.