Malcolm X

FADE IN:

EXT. ROXBURY STREET - THE WAR YEARS - DAY

It is a bright sunny day on a crowded street on the black

side of Boston. PEOPLE and KIDS are busy with their own

things.

SHORTY bops his way down the street. He is a runty, very

dark young man of 21 with a mission and a smile on his face.

He wears the flamboyant style of the time: the whole zoot-

suit, pegged legs and a wide brim hat with a white feather

stuck in the hat band.

EXT. STREET - DAY

FOLLOW SHOT. Shorty dodges through the crowd with his

packages.

His smile is one of anticipation. He nods to a PAL without

stopping; eyes a COUPLE OF CHICKS dancing on the street, but

is not dissuaded.

INT. BARBER SHOP - DAY

Shorty has his jacket and hat off, his sleeves rolled up. He

is like a surgeon preparing for an operation. His equipment

is spread out on a table: can of lye, large mason jar, wooden

stirring spoon, knife, the eggs. His actions have the

character of a ritual: each thing being done just so, in

time-honored fashion.

He slices the potatoes and drops the thin slices into the

mason jar.

He adds water and makes a paste of the starch.

Behind Shorty is a spirited barbershop conversation. ONE MAN

is getting a haircut; TWO OTHERS are watching (TOOMER, JASON)

one of them from behind a newspaper. A middle-aged barber,

CHOLLY, is doing most of the talking.

CHOLLY:

After I hit the number that woman

wasn't no good to me at all.

The men laugh.

ANGLE - Shorty pries open the can of lye, whiffs it. It's

good and strong. He pours some in the mason jar, stirring

with the wooden spoon. He cracks the eggs into the mixture

and stirs. He waits as fumes rise and feels the outside of

the jar as it gets hot.

ANOTHER ANGLE - The barbershop SEEN from a door, slightly

ajar. A woolly head, entirely in shadow, peers out.

CHOLLY'S VOICE

She says I'm cheap cuz I won't cop

her a diamond ring. Had the

indignation to call me a cheap black

sunovabitch to boot.

TOOMER:

And when a black woman call you a

cheap black sunovabitch you've been

called a cheap black sunovabitch.

Cholly is annoyed. It's _his_ story.

CHOLLY:

Will you let me tell it?

ON SHORTY - He opens the bulky package he has been carrying,

unfolds a large rubber apron and gets into it. Now he dons a

pair of rubber gloves.

SHORTY:

Where's Homeboy?

He is all ready; one of his hands is filled with a huge glob

of Vaseline. His manner is indignant as if he were asking

the whereabouts of an exasperating child.

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