GYPSY DRAW © 2002 amber rose

 

Black.

Fade up:

Gypsy Draw

Fade out.

1. INT. nursery – EVENING (dreamscape)

Darkness is broken by the flare of a match, flaming tip put to a candlewick. A baby cries in the background, but it stops at the shake of a rattle, which in turn fades into the sound of cards being shuffled.

Callused hands, of dark complexion, reach into a crib.

Velvet flaps in the gloom, sending a Tarot card flying at the pop of a camera flash bulb expiring. The card is ‘The Last Judgement’.

PERDITA V/O.

Isidore… Isidore.

Cut to:

2. INT. BEDROOM – MORNING

ISIDORE’S eye blinks open, bloodshot, a dark crescent beneath.

He sits up in bed, clutching his head. Mussed shoulder length curls fall through his fingers. He is distressed.

An alarm clock on the bedside table clicks over to 7am and classical music plays. ISIDORE slaps the clock off and the room is quiet again. All is still as ISIDORE stares at nothing.

The white walls are covered with photographs, generally black and white. Assorted books and CDs line wooden shelves. A sideboard cradles three cameras, each of a different era, from early to recent.

ISIDORE snaps back to reality, unfolds, and wanders to the bathroom.

Cut to:

3. INT. KITCHEN – MORNING

ISIDORE, dressed now in a nondescript suit, sips from a coffee cup. His cigarette is resting on the edge of an overflowing ashtray. The phone rings but he does not rise to answer, letting the machine take it instead.

ISIRORE V/O.

Isidore Faust, leave a message.

GRETA V/O.

Isidore it’s Mum. Just calling to remind you that Jackson’s birthday is next week and we’d really like for you to make it to dinner.

As the message records ISIDORE moves to the fridge, cigarette between his lips. A tacky 80s family photo, stands out amongst other artier images. ISIDORE’S MOTHER, FATHER, BROTHER and SISTER, all fair and freckled are smiling for the camera. A young ISIDORE, with dark curls and olive complexion, is angled somewhat away from the others and looks out of place. Having perused the contents of the refrigerator, ISIDORE thinks better of it and moves back to the kitchen table.

GRETA v/o. (cont’d)

Just, um, let us know, okay? No pressure love.

He stubs out his cigarette and reclaims the coffee mug.

GRETA v/o. (cont’d)

Oh, Mrs. Peters mentioned that she saw you the other day. She thought you didn’t look well. You flew past her without even realising, she said.

Draining the dregs of his cup and rinsing it in the sink, ISIDORE gathers his things. Pulling back his hair, he snaps in a band to hold it up.

GRETA v/o. (cont’d)

Everything okay, love? If you need anything, someone to talk to, you know we’re always here… If… Well, you know. Right, you must be busy… Speak to you soon then? Love you.

Having tossed his wallet and keys into a briefcase, ISIDORE finally slips a camera about his neck.

A dial tone resounds in the kitchen, followed by a high-pitched beep. ISIDORE is already heading out the door.

Cut to:

4. INT. OFFICE – DAY

ISIDORE looks bored. ERIC is posed in a high-backed leather office chair in such a way that he oozes authority and carefully scrutinises ISIDORE; he seems dubious.

eric

You’re younger than I expected.

Ignoring the remark, ISIDORE continues to stare, waiting for his client to get to the point.

eric

One of my partners put me on to you. I begin to wonder how valuable that recommendation was.

isidore

Mr Cordell, the sooner you give me details, the sooner I can resolve your case.

ERIC pulls a photo from a drawer and hands it to ISIDORE. In the picture is a pretty woman in her late forties, decked in finery, with ERIC beside her. She looks like a doll.

Eric

My wife, Zoe, enjoys my money, not my company. Hence I’m somewhat… sceptical as to where she spends her spare time.

ERIC draws in a mouthful of pungent smoke.

Cut to:

5. INT. GYPSY DRAW – DAY

A sequence of three cards: ‘King of Cups’; ‘Five of Pentacles’; ‘Eight of Swords’.

Cut to:

6. INT. OFFICE - DAY

On his feet, ISIDORE’S unfocused gaze is fixed on the photographs hanging on the walls. He has paused in thought, reacting to the flickering sequence that he is unsure he just witnessed. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

ISIDORE

And what if she is having an affair?

A smug little smirk twists ERIC’S lips.

ERIC

If something doesn’t work I have it replaced.

ERIC’S smile fades. He unconsciously clenches a fist.

Eric (cont’d)

If she’s disgraced me, Cinderella can go back to cleaning floors.

Considering this, ISIDORE stares at his client.

IDSIDORE gathers his possessions and replaces them in his briefcase. Again he slings the camera about his neck.

ERIC

I expect to see progress within a week.

ISIDORE leaves the office.

Cut to:

7. EXT. STREET – DAY

Photographing as he smokes, ISIDORE walks toward home.

The arched doorway of a church catches his eye; the stained glass window beside it deserving of a closer shot.

Foliage of a nearby tree, displaying contrasting shadow and highlight, is his next target.

The breeze picks up a little, dry leaves and buoyant trash dancing about his feet.

PERdita v/o.

Isidore…

ISIDORE checks his surrounds; he is alone in the alley.

As he rounds a corner, he catches a glimpse of dark velvet flicking around the edge of a building. The echoes of heeled footsteps ricochet off the walls.

ISIDORE’S pace slows. Drawing deeply from his cigarette he looks troubled.

Cut to:

8. INT. KITCHEN – EVENING

A cigarette butt is crushed into the still overflowing ashtray. ISIDORE’S hand falls limply to the side.

The photograph of ZOE and ERIC is propped against a mug. Across the table notes are scattered about ISIDORE’S resting head. His shuttered lids begin to flicker.

Cut to:

9. EXT. PORCH – DAY (DREAMSCAPE)

A young ISIDORE sits alone on concrete steps where he draws on the ground with a thick piece of chalk. His clothes hang from his skinny frame.

A large red ball bounces past, narrowly missing his head. ISIDORE appears not to notice.

JACKson o/s.

Isidore. Hey, Isidore! Throw us the ball!

Slowly looking up, ISIDORE looks from the ball to his brother, seemingly bewildered. Pushing the ball away lamely with one bare foot he returns to his picture. Other children groan in the background.

JACKSON O/S.

Isido~ore… Idiot.

ISIDORE is oblivious to his brother’s disdain.

Cut to:

10. INT. GYPSY DRAW - EVENING

Three Tarot cards are thrown down in quick succession: ‘Five of Swords’; ‘Ten of swords’; ‘Five of Cups’.

Cut to:

11. INT. KITCHEN – EVENING

ISIDORE’S eyes slowly open, obscured by the curtain of curls.

Sitting up he rakes his hands through his hair.

Fade out.

12. EXT. STREET – AFTERNOON

ISIDORE is tired, seated on a park bench. He appears to have been waiting for some time.

The camera shutter clicks, revealing and capturing ZOE mid-stride across the street. She clutches her purse across her chest, looking every bit the trophy wife. ISIDORE has seen her type before. Standing mechanically he begins to follow her.

ISIDORE snaps another photo: ZOE glances over her shoulder as she greets her LOVER.

Another: her head is bowed, content as she receives a tender kiss to the forehead.

A blurred face suddenly appears in the viewfinder.

PERdita v/o.

Isidore!

Starting at the insistent voice and distorted features, ISIDORE misses his next shot. He turns a full 360° and examines those about him. No one is paying him any mind. Disconcerted, ISIDORE looks back to ZOE and her companion. He almost loses them as they stroll around a corner.

ISIDORE snaps another shot; this time ZOE and her LOVER are caught in a particularly heated kiss.

PERdita v/o.

Isidore! Isidore! Isidore!

ISIDORE claps his hands over his ears.

Glancing back momentarily he glimpses a cloaked figure standing dead still amongst a flurry of pedestrians. Upon a full double take the figure is gone. Walking backwards, unsettled, he examines the scattering people.

Fade out.

13. INT. DARKROOM – EVENING

Beneath an exposed red light an agitated ISIDORE is developing photographs. Prints are already drying on a line, ranging from ZOE alone, with ERIC or female friends, to her with her LOVER. Those with her LOVER depict them in progressively more incriminating situations.

Juxtaposed with the surveillance photos are the shots of the church and foliage that he had taken earlier. Also in the mix are a few new shots: a scabby street cat; children playing; a young man feeding pigeons.

ISIDORE flicks the light switch. As he exits the room, a shaft of light comes through the open door. It lights upon two photos of ZOE. The first shows her despondent, eyes searching a murky cup of coffee, the second has her smiling as she walks with her LOVER.

The door closes, the room goes black.

Cut to:

14. INT. KITCHEN - EVENING

ISIDORE rests at the table, head on his forearms, eyes starkly open. Half a dozen books are spread over the table, including a psychology textbook and one concerning the meaning of the Tarot. Clearly restless, his foot taps beneath the table.

The sky is beginning to lighten.

Fade out.

15. EXT. STREET – MORNING

Dressed in the same clothes from yesterday, ISIDORE is half-heartedly looking for ZOE. A cigarette hangs from his lips and his cheeks are unshaven. In lieu of photographing ZOE, ISIDORE is taking artsy shots.

He fires off multiple shots of pigeons in flight.

As he snaps his own shadow cast against a wall, his mobile phone rings.

ISIDORE

Isidore Faust.

ERIC’S voice filters faintly from the phone.

ERIC v/o.

Eric Cordell, what have you got?

Wedging the phone between ear and shoulder, ISIDORE struggles to keep shooting: across the street a little boy is tossing a ball.

ISIDORE

About your wife…

Static, interference, emanates from the phone. ISIDORE lets the camera hang about his neck, moving to find better reception.

Isidore

I’ve followed her all week…

A loud crack of static bursts from the phone before another voice appears on the line.

perdita v/o.

Hush, Isidore!

Startled, ISIDORE begins to fidget.

isidore

So far she’s not done anything… inappropriate. I’ll get back to you as soon as I have something concrete.

Hanging up on a displeased ERIC, ISIDORE looks at the mobiles screen: it is filled with the word ‘hush’, repeated over and over.

Head thrown back, ISIDORE rests against the wall. He stuffs the phone in his pocket.

PERdita V/o.

Isidore?

He closes his eyes in desperation.

PERdita V/o.

Isidore?

The voice is closer and ISIDORE begins to run through the back alleys. Heeled footsteps seem to follow him, accompanied by the flap of heavy velvet.

ISIDORE dashes into the first doorway he comes across.

Cut to:

16. INT. PERDITA’S STORE – DAY

Esoteric and occult items clutter the tiny store. Busy inspecting the room, ISIDORE doesn’t notice the appearance of a figure behind him.

PERdita

Isidore.

ISIDORE spins to face the source of that all too familiar voice.

Cut to:

17. INT. GYPSY DRAW - DAY

Tarot cards fall: ‘Justice’; ‘The Tower’; ‘Death’.

Cut to:

18. INT. PERDITA’S STORE – DAY

Dressed in a simple white shift, PERDITA gestures to a small table. She appears neither old nor young.

Perdita

Sit.

Complying, ISIDORE moves to take a seat at a small table in the corner. PERDITA, moving about ISIDORE’S chair, lights a candle and a stick of incense, before joining him at the table.

She suddenly holds a silk bag, from which she withdraws a well-worn deck of Tarot cards, and gazes at ISIDORE curiously.

perdita

Who are you Isidore?

isidore

Do I know you?

PERDITA smiles and begins to shuffle the deck of cards, humming quietly to herself as she does so. She breaks her musical reverie to split the deck in three.

perdita

You are lost. Why are you following this woman? Do you think you will find yourself by watching her? Perhaps you already have.

Merging the piles, PERDITA deals three cards face down. She turns the first card over. It is the ‘Six of Cups’.

perdita

This is your past, your abandonment, your lonely childhood. Just because they are not your blood, it does not mean they do not care for you. Family is a state of mind, not a birthright.

Calming, ISIDORE watches as PERDITA reveals the second card: ‘Nine of Swords’. Her breathing is shallow. She taps the card with a pearly fingernail.

perdita (cont’d)

See this? The present. You are unstable, unsure of yourself or where you belong. Always you see two sides… you are two sides. Do not let it puzzle you. Everything in nature has balance, Isidore. Hot to cold, darkness for light, night and day. Understand?

Her hand hovers over the third card, but she does not turn it over. Instead she gestures to ISIDORE’S camera.

PERDITA (Cont’d)

What do your pictures reveal? Do they speak of your subjects, or do they speak about you? Do not hide behind that lens. Why do you work for these people you despise, when you exhibit such talent and enjoyment as an artist? Your future is not predestined. You choose the path.

Without turning the future card over she hands it to him.

perdita (cont’d)

I am done with you. Go make your decision. The world can be a very bleak place when we are unhappy and alone, but it need not be. Ask Zoe. Has she not created balance? Find happiness, Isidore.

ISIDORE takes the card and, without looking at it, slips it into his pocket. He hesitates in his motions to leave but PERDITA waves him away.

Cut to:

19. INT. KITCHEN – EVENING

Cigarette in one hand, Tarot card in the other, ISIDORE’S gaze flicks from the card to the surveillance photographs of ZOE scattered over his kitchen table.

He stares intently at two particular photos, the same two lighted upon in the dark room.

ISIDORE

Sorrow and joy.

ISIDORE tosses the Tarot card into medley of photos.

Finally revealed, the card is blank.

Cut to:

20. INT. OFFICE – MORNING

Clean-shaven ISIDORE enters ERIC’S office, throwing an A4 envelope onto the mahogany desk.

ERIC

Have you reached a conclusion, finally?

A gentle smile graces ISIDORE’S mouth.

ISIDORE

Yes.

ERIC

And the verdict?

ISIDORE

I don’t think the contents of that envelope are going to find you happy.

ISIDORE steps backwards and exits.

Fade out.

21. INT. DARKROOM – EVENING

ISIDORE clips newly developed images to the line. The photographs are artistic, not surveillance shots.

At the end of the line the two photographs of ZOE, sorrow and joy, still hang. A scattered pile of photos, all containing ZOE and her LOVER, rest beneath these. The only images of ZOE missing are the ones that did not damn her.

Standing over a tray, ISIDORE gently agitates a piece of photo paper in developer.

The paper is blank, but a faint, hazy, image is beginning to show through.

Fade out.

Credits.

 



back to scripts