Intermission

Synopsis: Intermission is an urban love story about people adrift and their convoluted journeys in the search for some kind of love. When the desperately insecure and emotionally inarticulate John breaks up with Deirdre to 'give her a little test' his plan backfires leaving her broken-hearted and him alone and miserable. Through chance and coincidence, their break-up triggers a roller coaster ride of interweaving escapades in the lives of everyone around them. Intermission presents a slice of life, the passage between breaking up and making up, exploring how our lives intersect, and the power we all possess to affect the lives of those around us.
Genre: Comedy, Crime, Drama
Director(s): John Crowley
Production: IFC Films
  6 wins & 11 nominations.
 
IMDB:
6.9
Metacritic:
64
Rotten Tomatoes:
73%
R
Year:
2003
105 min
$755,118
Website
919 Views


Oh, yeah. I've been round the block.

- Really?

- Believe it.

Sowed me oats.

Acted the rip, the rapscallion.

Ran wild, ran free.

Of course, this all back

in the days of yore.

Right. You wouldn't think it to look at you.

Yeah, well, time comes, you have to

leave behind the old hell-raising.

Take some responsibility for your life.

- Prepare the groundwork.

- How do you do that?

Well, to begin with,

I'd say by nest-building.

You have to find an abode

you feel secure in.

Then you have to furnish that abode...

procure the necessaries: Furniture, etc.

Kitchen utensils, your wok...

...your juicers.

- What about love?

Well, love's not something

you can plan for, is it?

Look all you like as long as you like...

but it's only when you let

your guard down...

- When you least expect...

- That you find someone.

Take myself for example.

You ever see me before?

No.

I've just ambled in, right? But who's to say

by tomorrow, you and me couldn't...

and I'm not coming on to you or anything...

but who's to say

we couldn't be head-over-heels?

Dancing in the Green?

- Nobody.

- Right.

- When there's something there...

- Chemistry.

Right. Who knows

where the sparks will lead?

A fella like myself, a stranger...

could just be a bit of fun in the sack,

no more.

Or, and it's not that crazy...

your soul mate.

Yeah, you've got a point.

On the other hand,

I could just be a thief or something.

What do you mean?

Some villain,

just waiting for my chance to...

smack your jaw and rob the register

while the place is empty.

But this is the thing of it, see?

You just never know...

what's gonna happen.

Come here. Look at your top!

How many f***ing times

do I have to tell you? It's all over you.

What are you doing?

Get back over here

before I f***ing slap you...

Get out of the way!

He's heading for the stairs.

Come on, youse humpy c*nts.

Get out of my f***ing way.

He's running out to the car park.

Come back here with that!

Get out of the car!

Get out of the f***ing car!

Shouldn't you have been here

last time round?

I should have, but f*** it.

An hour late.

An hour less there, man. F***ing dump.

Don't start. You the same?

F***ing bus, f***ing city.

Here's this f*** now.

- Is it too early to use my pass?

- You know it is.

How much is it to the barn?

You know how much.

Come on, there's people here late.

Another 10 cents. Come on.

- Will youse come on?

- Hold your...

Hurry up.

Now.

You robbing bastard, you.

- How's Cathy?

- She ordered in a kitchen.

- You're joking. New floor not enough?

- Do you believe her?

You wanna see this floor, though.

Oak slats, lovely grain running through it.

Trouble is, this sh*t costs,

and there's only so much overtime going.

- F***ing sh*t.

- It's all sh*t, man.

F***ing life.

Mega brand kidney beans,

baked beans, butter beans.

Any two for the price of one.

It's a reduction rampage.

- What did you say?

- I say, 'Why not?'

She says, "Because you're not my type".

I say, "Well, what is your type?"

You know what she said?

"Everything you're not".

Jesus.

Didn't score in a single department.

F***ing wank, man.

- Next time?

- What?

That's easy enough for you to say,

sitting pretty as you are, man.

- What?

- Sitting pretty. You've Deirdre there...

Oscar, me and Deirdre broke up.

- What? When?

- Few weeks back.

Weeks? Why didn't you tell me then?

How the hell did it happen?

It was felt we should take a bit of a break.

Felt by who? By her, yeah?

John.

Oscar.

Are youse not clocking back on?

Oh, yeah.

Hang on.

Youse clocked on 15 minutes ago.

Get back on that floor, youse little pups.

That's a strike now against each of you.

John.

That's your second,

after your lateness this morning.

One more, and a certain ass will be kicked.

I sh*t you not, as they say in the States.

So, yeah, that was the only place left.

And it was cheap as well.

But Henry wouldn't take it

because they rape white women there.

- Who does?

- I don't know. Everyone.

Henry said some fella he knows

was driving round there...

him and his girlfriend.

They were stopped by the cops.

One held a gun on him, the other one

raped her. And then they switched.

- They raped him, too?

- No.

- Oh, the coppers switched.

- Yeah.

So you know, that's that. No sun this year.

Might go down to Wexford or something.

What about you and...

Did you ever smell these?

Smell lovely, they do.

Me and Deirdre?

- Youse broke up, didn't you?

- How did you know?

That's all right then. I saw her

with some fella at the Zombie last night.

Who?

Some middle-aged fella. Kissing.

Some baldy fella.

- Kissing a baldy fella?

- Holding hands and all, yeah.

Wexford isn't that bad, is it?

Get a caravan down there,

couple of weeks. What do you think?

If the sun comes out, sure we can paddle.

John. Come on, man.

Where is the baldy c*nt? Where is he?

Sorry, Deirdre.

This isn't acceptable, Deirdre.

After what, five, six weeks?

This is bollocks.

You don't f***ing...

You don't just hook up

with the next fella walks by!

The only reason you would do that

is if you never cared the first place.

And that's cold, man.

That is the behavior of...

and I have no qualms about saying it,

a whore.

And not with a heart of gold.

No, with a heart of stone.

A cold, dark f***ing black heart, Deirdre.

That's what you have. And I'm glad

I found out. A dirty, black...

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Mark O'Rowe

Mark O'Rowe is an Irish playwright and screenwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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