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FADE IN SOUND:
INT. CONFESSIONAL - NIGHT
DISTANT, BEAUTIFUL VOICES
Male voices. A Gregorian chant.
We fade in on a crucifix in the apse of the church: a
The rosary is held in a man's lap next to a mouse-grey
fedora. The light is dim.
Wider on the man waiting in the confessional: middle-aged,
Son, it is so late.
Yeah, Father, work has just been...
You work too hard.
Nah, I’m just... keepin the place
goin’. Anyhow, bless me, Father,
for I have sinned. It’s been uh,
confession. I, uh...
Yes my son.
I lied to Connie. Uh, to my wife.
This is very serious.
I know! I promised her I'd quit
smoking. She thinks it's bad for
me. And I'm trying, but... well, I
snuck a couple of cigarettes...
Yes, my son.
——But I’m trying.
A clap of thunder.
HOUSE AT NIGHT:
parked car, at a small, Spanish-style bungalow. The rattle of
It is 5:
00 A.M. The sun is soon to
has already begun.
Our car’s driver, Eddie Mannix——the man we saw
confessing——looks up from his watch to the house.
manufactures stories——each its own
daylit drama, or moonlit dream.
laughter from the house.
through the rain.
louder as we approach.
tests the knob:
unlocked; turns it, enters.
not for day or night... and cares
little for his rest.
That’s right, darlin’, a little
Oh, fer——ecce homo! You, here?!
likeness, Falco. Gimme the
negatives and things’ll go easier.
You got it all wrong, Eddie! This
is f’private use!
out a length of film.