Different Strokes: How I (Gulp!) Wrote, Directed, and Starred in an X-rated Movie (John Warren Wells on Sexual Behavior)

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Different Strokes: How I (Gulp!) Wrote, Directed, and Starred in an X-rated Movie (John Warren Wells on Sexual Behavior) Page 6

by Lawrence Block


  257. The final montage—the ultimate cum montage. Everybody comes. Everybody. It’s just one spurting penis after another in close-up, intercut with shots of SOPHIE’S face. Cum, face, cum, face, ad nauseam. One might legitimately call this the climax of the film.

  258. Two-shot, PLUTO and SOPHIE, favoring SOPHIE. She’s disillusioned and he’s sympathetic. She runs toward him and he puts his arm very gently around her shoulders.

  SOPHIE

  Pluto, take me home.

  259. Interior of SOPHIE’S apartment. Start the sequence again on a close-up of PLUTO’S dish of ice cream. Pull back to reveal a two-shot. SOPHIE is over by her sexual this and thats and looking at them with noticeably less enthusiasm than she did in the beginning of the film.

  PLUTO

  Maybe you should have given it a try.

  SOPHIE

  No way, Pluto. Everything I saw just turned me off more than ever. I’d seen it all before in different forms. I don’t remember who was the noblest Roman of them all, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  260. Close on PLUTO.

  PLUTO

  If you knew what it took to put that orgy together. That was a big-budget operation, Sophie. The paperwork alone . . .

  SOPHIE

  (OC) I appreciate that, Pluto.

  261. Two-shot.

  PLUTO

  I mean it was a hell of a show to close in New Haven.

  SOPHIE

  It was a flop. You can’t put the blame on the audience.

  PLUTO

  I guess not (Sighs.) Well, I have to hand it to you, Sophie, you did it.

  SOPHIE

  Did it? The whole point is I didn’t do it.

  262. Close on PLUTO.

  PLUTO

  You beat the devil. (Beat.) You signed away your soul, put it on the line and we had to renege on the deal, (As quoting.) “In the event of nonperformance by the assignee, all rights conveyed in this agreement revert permanently to the assignor.” In other words . . .

  263. Close on SOPHIE.

  PLUTO

  (OC) . . . you’re out of it. You can call your soul your own again.

  SOPHIE

  . . . I could have done that to begin with.

  264. Two-shot.

  PLUTO

  True.

  SOPHIE

  So I’m right back at square one. (She thinks and then reacts.) Hey, wait a minute, Pluto, I won’t buy that.

  PLUTO

  You ought to be happy. You had a couple of laughs, a few good scenes, and it didn’t cost you a cent. You . . .

  265. Close on SOPHIE.

  SOPHIE

  You think I’m going to let your firm weasel out on this? You think I’m going to settle for being a broken-down old slob again with my tits hanging down to my knees? (Towering over him, shaking a finger in his face.) No way, buster. You go home and read that contract over a little more closely. Fine print and all.

  PLUTO

  (Backing off.) I think I’ll have to, uh, consult a higher authority on this.

  266. SOPHIE POV PLUTO.

  SOPHIE

  (Is advancing on him, and he just manages to snap his fingers and disappear before she reaches him. We hold on SOPHIE. Her arm drops to her side. Her shoulders slump again and the emotion that she has been feeling leaves her. She seems the same way she did in the beginning of the scene. She walks out of frame and comes back dragging a large plastic garbage can. She picks a sexual artifact off the shelf, shakes her head at it, and shitcans it. She dumps a few more of them in the can and we slowly) DISSOLVE:

  267. Interior of PLUTO’S office, a tiny, airless cubicle the size of a broom closet. There is a framed picture of the devil on the wall with a sign underneath saying “the boss.” The shot starts on a small sign on the front of his desk: “You don’t have to be crazy to work here but it helps.” PLUTO is sitting at the desk, using one finger to type out a form on a prehistoric typewriter. The phone rings, he answers it.

  PLUTO

  Yes?

  MADGE’S VOICE

  Legal’s due for a roasting.

  PLUTO

  You mean . . .

  MADGE’S VOICE

  We’re locked in. I went all the way to the top on this. (PLUTO glances at the picture of the devil.) He wasn’t happy at being disturbed, but the orders were clear.

  PLUTO

  And?

  MADGE’S VOICE

  Basically, whatever Sophie wants, Sophie gets.

  PLUTO

  (Awed.) Carte blanche?

  MADGE’S VOICE

  Not to mention Diner’s Club and American Express. An absolute blank check.

  PLUTO

  And when she wants something, and then it doesn’t work.

  MADGE’S VOICE

  You give her something else.

  PLUTO

  This could go on forever. And this case has already lasted forever. Can’t they bring in somebody else?

  MADGE’S VOICE

  You’re it, kiddo.

  PLUTO

  (Whining a little.) But I’ve got a vacation coming up next month. I’m booked into the Limbo Hilton for three weeks. I’ll lose my deposit.

  MADGE’S VOICE

  So it goes.

  PLUTO

  But that’s Hell!

  MADGE’S VOICE

  So what else is new?

  268. Interior of SOPHIE’S apartment. It has been transformed. All the erotic crud is gone and there are pastoral things all over. Landscapes, statuettes of dogs, etc. SOPHIE is in a chair watching television, ideally the Dating Game or something like that. PLUTO appears in his usual fashion. We start our shot on one of the new-type figurines. We pull back to reveal the scene over the sounds from the TV.

  PLUTO

  Quite a change.

  SOPHIE

  You know, Pluto, I’ve just about had it with the sudden appearances.

  PLUTO

  Do you expect me to walk back and forth between here and Hell?

  SOPHIE

  You’d get mugged. But you could pop up in the hallway and knock on the door like a normal human being.

  PLUTO

  I’ll try it that way next time. Because it looks as though we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.

  269. Two-shot favoring SOPHIE. She never takes her eyes off the tube.

  SOPHIE

  You mean I win?

  PLUTO

  I don’t know what’s winning and what’s losing. As far as you’re concerned that is. All I really know is that I lose.

  SOPHIE

  How?

  PLUTO

  (Bitterly.) I have to stay on your case until it’s resolved to your satisfaction. For however long it takes. If it takes a thousand years, then that’s how I spend my time for the next thousand years.

  SOPHIE

  Oh, you poor guy!

  PLUTO

  (Bitterness softened by her sympathy.) Yeah, well, at least I’ll have my fill of ice cream.

  SOPHIE

  (Moving toward kitchen.) Want some now?

  PLUTO

  I seem to have lost my taste for it.

  270. PLUTO POV SOPHIE. He walks back to the couch and sits down, the camera follows and reframes another two-shot at this point.

  PLUTO

  Sophie, can I give you a suggestion as a friend? I’ve got, an ulterior motive, but I’d make the same suggestion anyway. Why not let them tear up the contract? You know, I couldn’t tell you this in advance, but Hell is no paradise. Why not get your soul back?

  SOPHIE

  (Thoughtfully.) I’ve almost been thinking that way myself, honey. (Sits down next to him.) I’ve been going through some changes lately.

  PLUTO

  It shows. (Gestures around the apartment.) (There is a knock on the door.)

  SOPHIE

  That must be Irving. Oh, why doesn’t he grow up? (She opens the door.)

  271. Two-shot favoring IRVING.

  IRVING

  Sophie my
little dove . . . (He has the Mona Lisa in his hand.) Let’s be naughty.

  SOPHIE

  Irving, Irving, don’t you realize it’s not that important?

  IRVING

  . . . you and me . . .

  SOPHIE

  (Gently pushing him out.) Irving, when was the last time you called your grandchildren, your great grandchildren?

  272. SOPHIE POV IRVING.

  SOPHIE

  Oh, Irving, appreciate the warmth of family.

  IRVING

  Sophie, what’s the matter? Why don’t . . .

  273. Two-shot favoring SOPHIE.

  SOPHIE

  (Closing the door.) Call them long distance, Irving. Charge it to my phone.

  274. Two-shot favoring PLUTO.

  PLUTO

  You know, I think the place looks one hundred percent better like this.

  SOPHIE

  (Going back to the TV.) So do I. I got rid of everything. You should have seen me shlepping garbage out of here.

  PLUTO

  I could have done all that with a snap of my fingers.

  SOPHIE

  Yeah, but you weren’t here. And I couldn’t summon you, because that lamp was one of the first things to go.

  PLUTO

  (Reflectively.) I never liked it

  SOPHIE

  Neither did I. (Beat.)

  275. Close-up SOPHIE.

  SOPHIE

  Pluto? I think you’re sweet to suggest that I give up the whole thing. But I can’t quit now. I have to make another stab at it.

  276. Two-shot.

  PLUTO

  Even if it costs you your soul?

  SOPHIE

  Even if it costs me my soul.

  PLUTO

  Anything special in mind?

  SOPHIE

  Uh-huh. I want the Boss.

  PLUTO

  (Uncertain.) The Boss?

  SOPHIE

  The Man Downstairs. The Evil One. Satan, Mephistopheles, whatever you call him.

  PLUTO

  I generally call him Sir. But—

  277. SOPHIE POV PLUTO. (Medium with a slow zoom to end the shot tight on her face at the end of the dialogue in the scene.)

  SOPHIE

  You promised me, Pluto. You said anyone in Hell. And I think that’s still his address.

  PLUTO

  Yes, but—

  SOPHIE

  Then that’s what I want.

  PLUTO

  Sophie, honey, are you absolutely sure? (Close on her face for a beat, then she nods yes.)

  278. A void. There is a bed and that’s all. It is bathed in soft red light There is smoke coming up from the sides. A door opens and shuts with a heavy resounding, echoing sound. Footsteps. SOPHIE is waiting on the bed. We never see Satan . . . which saves hiring anybody to play him. We get SOPHIE’S awe at the sight of him. Everything is found out through SOPHIE’S reaction. The whole scene is done through a series of dissolving images and a really worked over, dubbed, echoed, and redubbed and reechoed sound track. The whole sequence lasts about two minutes. SOPHIE says or mouths or breathes “Oh, oh, oh,” then later as she really gets into it “Yes, yes, yes.” She says “God” about a hundred times. Then “Love” five times. And then in one shot she has a look of absolutely beatific angelic beauty on her face. She has had an orgasm, or is having one, and doesn’t make a sound except to breathe heavily. At this moment, in this shot, the light starts to yellow up and a glow appears around SOPHIE’S head which is in close-up. We begin a pullback to show that she is in a white robe, with wings, halo, harp, the whole number. She is on a cloud, or a damn good facsimile of one, as good as the budget will allow. Probably use dry ice on the same set as the devil’s bed. She plays the song and softly sings the music to “HE NEVER TOUCHED MY HEART.”

  MADGE’S VOICE

  (Telephone.) Never lost one before, huh?

  PLUTO’S VOICE

  (Telephone.) Never.

  MADGE’S VOICE

  It happens every once in a while.

  PLUTO’S VOICE

  He touched her heart.

  MADGE’S VOICE

  And that was what she always wanted. I’ll tell you something—she was a bad candidate for us from the beginning. She wasn’t really hunting the big O.

  PLUTO’S VOICE

  She sure talked a good game.

  MADGE’S VOICE

  That was all on the surface. She was tough and brassy and full of piss and vinegar but she was no sinner. It took the Evil One to give her an orgasm, and she turned him around and made a love experience out of it.

  PLUTO’S VOICE

  And went straight to Cloud Nine.

  MADGE’S VOICE

  That’s the name of the game.

  PLUTO’S VOICE

  So she balled the devil and beat the devil. (Beat.) Well, I blew that assignment. The Boss did, too, in a manner of speaking, but you know who they’ll tie the can to. (Beat.) I should feel rotten about it, but somehow I don’t.

  MADGE’S VOICE

  (Very gently.) Of course you don’t. You were half in love with her yourself, weren’t you, baby?

  PLUTO’S VOICE

  (After a beat.) Love? (Two beats, then brusquely.) That’s not my department.

  ROLL CREDITS OVER SOPHIE AND MUSIC. FADE OUT AND END.

  A Diary

  —Tuesday

  Picture this: We’re in the back room of a two-room suite on the eighth and last floor of a hotel on 46th Street between 8th and 9th. You wouldn’t dream this hotel owned a two-room suite. You’d say, charitably, that it had seen better days, only I’m not sure it had. I think it was always a fleabag. But here we are, because Alan is tight with the owner, or the manager, or the owner-manager, or something, and we’re getting a special rate. It can’t be too special; the regular rate shouldn’t be more than a couple of dollars a day.

  We’re in this room, the three of us and this girl. The three of us consist of Alan the Producer, Vinnie the Director, and Me the Screenwriter. Alan the Producer is about forty-two. It would not hurt him to take off ten or fifteen pounds, and the facial expression he usually wears suggests that he knows this, but that he has too many other things to worry about. Things of cosmic significance. One of these things is the possibility of growing a beard. Alan the Producer is always clean shaven, always immaculately clean shaven, but in the two months I’ve known him he has mentioned to me perhaps two dozen times that he is thinking of growing a beard.

  Vinnie the Director is twenty-seven. He is a Boy Genius who wears blue jeans and flowered shirts. The jeans are always the same pair. The shirts never seem to repeat. He always leaves the top three shirt buttons open. God knows why. Vinnie the Director doesn’t say much. He’s basically visual rather than verbal, which probably makes him sensational behind the camera. He has directed and edited six pornographic movies in his young life. Which puts him six up on Alan the Producer, who has not, to my knowledge, produced anything.

  Let me amend that. Two nights ago the three of us went out to dinner, and Alan produced a credit card.

  Me the Screenwriter you’ll learn more of than you care to in the pages to follow. Anyway, I don’t have a speaking part in the scene which you are about to eavesdrop on. I’m just sort of there, a silent presence, an eminence bleu.

  That leaves The Girl. I don’t remember her name. I don’t, to be honest, precisely remember what she looks like. She was around twenty and moderately attractive. Light brown hair, I think. No interesting scars or anything like that.

  The girl is standing there. Alan is on the couch with his feet up and Vinnie is sitting backward on a straight chair, straddling it. I’m sitting on a similar chair, but in a more orthodox fashion.

  ALAN: Uh, let’s see. First I want to be sure you understand what sort of movie, the kind of project, we’re involved in here.

  GIRL: I was told a porno film.

  ALAN: That’s right.

  GIRL: Well, that’s cool.

 
VINNIE: It’s hardcore.

  GIRL: Hardcore, right, I was told that.

  ALAN: Actually there’s hardcore and there’s hard core, I think we all understand that. We’re trying to make a particular statement in this film, and we feel the demographics of the market are such that a film can be hardcore and can still be a genuine aesthetic experience filmically.

  GIRL: Well, yeah, sure.

  VINNIE: Maybe a bit.

  ALAN: Right, I was thinking along those lines. Now looking at you, getting the impression you would project on film, I can see, I can more or less sense, that we could use you in a particular scene. You have a special quality, a sort of fusion of innocence and experience that would come across beautifully. I want to emphasize, though, that it’s not a large part.

  GIRL: How many days?

  VINNIE: A day’s shooting. Maybe an hour’s work but you’d be paid for the day.

  GIRL: What do you pay?

  VINNIE: Hundred a day.

  GIRL: Well, that’s cool.

  ALAN: There’s one thing, though. Now I gather you’ve done similar films before.

  GIRL: Yeah, a couple. No speaking parts yet but I was in a few things. You know, what you’d call an extra in fucking and sucking scenes.

  ALAN: I see.

  GIRL: You maybe saw me in Water Bed Lovers. I had a couple good scenes in that one.

 

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