A Serious Man Page #5

DOCTOR’S OFFICE

Larry, now fully clothed, is seated across from the doctor.

The doctor examines his file. He absently taps a cigarette out of a pack and lights up. He

nods as he smokes, looking at the file.

Doctor

Well, I—sorry.

He holds the pack toward Larry.

Larry

No thanks.

Doctor

Well, you’re in good health. How’re Judith and the kids?

Larry

Good. Everyone’s good. You know.

The doctor takes a long suck.

Doctor

Good. Daniel must be—what? About to be bar mitzvah?

Larry

Two weeks.

Doctor

Well, mazel tov. They grow up fast, don’t they?

TINTED PHOTO PORTRAIT

The portrait, old, in an ornate gilt frame, is of a middle-aged rabbi with a small neat

mustache and round spectacles. He wears a tallis hood-style and has a phylactery box

strapped to his forehead. A plaque set into the picture frame identifies the man as Rabbi

Marshak.

Wider shows that the portrait hangs in the Hebrew school principal’s office, a white

cinderblock room. It is quiet. The only sound is a deep electrical hum.

Just visible behind the principal’s desk, upon which is a low stack of books and a name

plate identifying the occupant as MAR TURCHIK, is the top of a man’s head—an old

man, with a few whispy white hairs where his yarmulka is not.

Danny, seated opposite, pushes up from his slouch to better see across the desk.

We boom up to show more of the principal. He is short. He wears a white shirt and

hoist-up pants that come to just below his armpits. He has thick eyeglasses. He fiddles

with the transistor radio, muttering:

Principal

Hmm. . . eh. . . nu?

He experiments with different dials on the radio.

Danny

You put the—

The old man holds up one hand.

Principal

B’ivrit. (In Hebrew)

Danny

Um. . .

The old man looks down at the little earpiece pinched between two fingers. He examines

the contrivance like a superstitious native handling an unfamiliar fetish.

We cut to the source of the electrical hum: a wall clock whose red sweep-second hand

crawls around the dial very, very slowly.

The reb continues to squint at the earpiece.

Danny sighs. He encourages:

Danny

Yeah, you—

The principal’s tone is harder:

Principal

Danny sighs. He encourages:

Danny

Yeah, you—

The principal’s tone is harder:

Principal

B’ivrit!

This time his cold look holds until he is sure that the admonishment has registered.

He looks back down at the earpiece.

The door opens, ignored by the principal, and an old woman shuffles in with a teacup

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