Cold Fried Chicken Chapter Four: Brotherhood at World's End

As the animators at Rocket House developed and improved their craft, I was doing the same thing with the writing for the short screenplay.

After the first three screenplays, I wanted to recapture the thrill I had during the creation of Pastrami on Rye. To see the simplicity of Pastrami on Rye, I looked at the scene and the characters. I thought, here we go again. I want two characters and one scene. So what, right? Two characters and one scene doesn't seem so bad. If we could do it in Belgium 1945, why couldn't I do it all over again?

I considered a few things. I had no set. I had no initial character. No premise. Nothing. And I wanted Pastrami on Rye, but something new too. Additionally, I wanted to return to dialogue.

I went to work in the restaurant that night. I was still waiting tables four or five nights a week at Marlowe's in Denver.

Marlowe's, as you may or may not know, is on the 16^th Street Mall in Denver. 16^th Street is a pedestrian mall and for the length of it, perhaps 16 or 18 blocks, there are no cars. The free mall shuttle bus runs the length of it, but most people just casually stroll. Between the bus lanes there is a width of 12 to 15 feet which is populated with Honey Locust trees, seats, chess tables and street vendors. In theory, the place is fantastic. In reality, the goings-on are strange. Tourists, business people, street urchins, bums, hooligans and conventioneers flock the mall by the thousands. Working at Marlowe's as I did for years, I saw just about everything. Of course, I loved seeing people holding hands and loving each other, but more often than that, this is not what I saw out the windows.

On the night I conceived of Brotherhood at World's End, nothing happened. It was a delightfully uneventful night, and that's okay. As a waiter in a busy downtown restaurant, I prayed for these sorts of shifts.

As the day was ending outside, I remember staring out the open windows at the crowds. People, the office workers, I supposed, were on their way home. Then I saw a man without arms. An armless man. This brought to my mind a whole set of questions. How does he put on his trousers, or eat, or tie his shoes? Good questions to ask when one sees a man without arms. I did not pity the man. No, his upright stature, his study gait did not invoke pity. I respected him and I admired him, because who can get through a life or even a day with no arms? For me, I'm completely dependent on my arms and my hands. As a waiter, or even as a writer, these trades need those tools: arms and hands and fingers.

I moved through the shift talking to guests at my tables, suggesting drinks and food and yet I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more than all of this: our existence, locomotion and our bodies.

Before we go further, I must say that being a waiter at Marlowe's was just about the most rewarding experience of my life. I made my way to the restaurant at a time in my life when I was broke, brokenhearted and uncertain of the future. Marlowe's welcomed me. Marlowe's supported me in graduate school and Marlowe's exposed me to people who would forever change my life's work and my life's destiny. Mark Dragotta and Jana Bloomquist are the two people I'm thinking of mostly. They were two of the founding members of Umbrella Factory Magazine. They were also servers at Marlowe's.

At the time of the armless man sighting, both Mark and I were working. We worked the entire shift and once it got dark outside, we started to talk about wives and mistresses. Wives and mistress for us meant Jim Beam and beer. Which is wife and which is mistress is of no consequence, it was just just an after work plan.

When we got out of work it began to rain. Rain in summertime Denver is delicious, it's the cooling of a hot day. In the rain, we wandered up the hill, past the capitol building and to our neighborhood bar. We shot pool. We started to talk about writing. We talked about the problems with people. We grew cynical and angry and perhaps that's the plight of the writer, and it's certainly the plight of the waiter.

When we left and parted paths, I again thought about the night's events, mostly the armless man and the conversation with Mark.

All I kept thinking about was how we, as modern human beings and especially Americans fail at the capacity for greatness. We should be reasonable and tolerant and peaceful. But it doesn't work like that. That thought became the premise: human being is light, human being is wonderful.

We've discussed the anecdote overlaid on character. We've discussed scene as a springboard. We've discussed the spoof. We've talked about go-go dancers and we've talked zombies. We've come up with plot and conflict, back story and exposition. At this stage we're going to talk about satyr. We're going to consider human existence and the human condition. I'm not leaving the armless man out of this.

Get your notebook. Here's the exercise for today. Write down all the ills of society you can think of. List them. They might be one word like famine, war, disease or greed. Now, next to that word write down one sentence why it shouldn't be that way. The next sentence will be your treatment of it. This exercise should have enough material for you to go forward.

In the short screenplay, remember you have 6-20 minutes to develop your satirical statement. You have a beginning, the ills of man or society. You have a middle, the reason why you think the ills shouldn't exist. And you have an end, the resolution. This is what I came up with:

Rev. 06/09/10

Brotherhood at World's End

Int. Workshop. Day.

Waldo and Henry sit at a table. Henry has no arms, no legs. Waldo reads. The sound of rain outside is audible.

Waldo

“Phileas Fogg won his wager, and had made his journey around the world in eighty days. To do this, he had employed every means of conveyance—steamers, railways, carriages, yachts, trading-vessels, sledges, elephants. The eccentric gentleman had throughout displaced all his marvellous qualities of coolness and exactitude. But what then? What had he really gained by all this trouble? What had he brought back from this long and weary journey?

Nothing you say? Perhaps so; nothing but a charming woman, who, strange as it may appear, made him the happiest of men!

Truly, would you not for less than that make the tour around the world?” (Beat) Fantastic story yes, Henry?

Henry

Yes. Yes fantastic. He really had a journey. All the way around the world?

Waldo

Yes. In eighty days.

Henry

By every conveyance?

Waldo

Yes, can you only imagine it?

Henry

He walked?

Waldo

Yes, in every sense.

Henry

I wish I could walk.

Waldo

Yes, Henry. I assure you, brother, some day soon you'll walk.

Henry

Waldo?

Waldo

Yes, brother?

Henry

Tell me about the beginning of time.

Waldo

Oh, please, not again. We just read an amazing book. Henry, shall we leave it at that?

Henry

Please Waldo. Please.

Waldo

Well. (Beat) In the beginning there was Human-being.

Henry

(Excited) What was human-being like?

Waldo

Human-being was wonderful. Human-being was reason. Human-being was light.

Henry

And human-being could walk.

Waldo

Oh, yes. Human-being was wonderful.

Henry

How wonderful?

Waldo

Human-being made me. (Beat) And I made you, brother.

Henry

Human-being made you and you can walk.

Waldo

Yes.

Henry

What else could human-being do?

Waldo

What else? Pfffft. Human-being could do anything. Human-being could do everything.

Henry

Like what, Waldo? Like what?

Waldo

Like what? Human-being could write books. Jules Verne was human-being.

Henry

I know about books. What else could human-being do?

Waldo

Human-being could read books.

Henry

You can read books. (Beat) Will you teach me to read books, Waldo, will you?

Waldo

Yes, brother, some day.

Henry

What else could human-being do?

Waldo

Everything. You hear that rain falling?

Henry

Yes, so.

Waldo

Can you see the rain falling?

Henry

Out the window, yes.

Waldo

But see it fall from outside? See it fall on your face?

Henry

Outside? I've never been outside.

Waldo

Ever feel the rain?

Henry

Feel rain?

Waldo

I wish I could feel the rain like human-being did. Human-being could feel rain. Human-being could be wet. Human-being could get wet. (Beat) But that was before the rain turned bad.

Henry

Wow.

Waldo

Human-being could feel.

Henry

And walk?

Waldo

Yes. (Beat) And walk

Henry

You can walk.

Waldo

But I am not human-being.

Henry

Tell me what happened to Human-being.

Waldo

Oh. (Pensive) Human-being die.

Henry

Why?

Waldo

Human-being just die.

Henry

Too bad.

Waldo

Yes. Human-being wonderful. Human-being made me. (Beat) And I made you.

Int. Workshop. Night.

Enter Waldo with a pair of crude legs. Rain still falls.

Waldo

Henry. I was saving these for your birthday, but I think you're ready now.

Henry

Legs!

Waldo

And arms to follow.

Henry

Arms?

Waldo

I haven't puzzled them out completely.

Henry

But legs? Like yours?

Waldo

Yes. And you're almost completed. (Beat) And I will be completed. You will read. You will walk. You and me, brother.

Waldo operates on Henry

Blackout.

Int. Workshop. Day.

Rain sounds louder. Waldo still operates on Henry.

Waldo

How does that feel?

Henry

Feel? How does feel mean?

Waldo

It's an old expression.

Henry

Human-being expression?

Waldo

Yes. Do you feel scared?

Henry

No.

Waldo

Do you feel pain?

Henry

I don't know what that is.

Waldo

Do you feel happy?

Henry

For legs?

Waldo

Yes.

Henry

I don't know. (Beat) Am I ready?

Waldo

Yes, I think so. (Beat) Let me help you.

Henry gets up and begins to move wildly. Mayhem ensues. Eventually, he knocks Waldo over. Waldo does not get up.

Henry

Waldo? Waldo, help me. Waldo!

Int. Workshop. Night.

Waldo remains on the floor. Henry paces to the window and looks out.

Henry

Waldo, look. The rain stopped.

He paces the room. He is very steady on his feet.

Henry

If I had hands like you Waldo, I would open the door and go outside like human-being. (Beat) If I had hands like you Waldo, I would hold book. (Beat) All these books.

Int. Workshop. Day.

Henry

If only you gave me hands Waldo, I could fix you.

Blackout.

Henry (Voice-over)

If only I had hands I could end this. (Beat) All of this.

Admittedly, Brotherhood at World's End is practically the same as Pastrami on Rye. The ending is the same, in a way. It is the uncertainty of it, in Pastrami on Rye it was death and in Brotherhood at World's End it's failed life.

To shock or amaze an audience is a wonderful pursuit. To tell a story and leave an audience thinking is tough to do. As a writer of screenplays, especially in my situation of animators and Rocket House Studio, my only real audience were the directors and animators. They have to see something in the screenplay, potential, art, life or else the screenplay has nothing. Giving a screenplay to a director or a filmmaker is a strange act for a writer. The writer says, “here it is, now breath life into it.” It's a collaborative process and that's that.

I am immensely grateful for my time at Rocket House. It's a joy I would wish on any writer. I hope, as time moves on that they succeed. Making a product and making art is, perhaps, the only valid use of time.