HUMAN WRECKAGE
A Scene from a Pandemic Common Law Relationship
A screenplay by meGeoff Bergman.
(From the opening scene the entire film is a single continuous tracking shot. Death, shrouded in a shabby black cloak and carrying a scythe walks along a gravel strewn North Atlantic beach. The camera pans upward to gaze at a cloudy leaden sky. The camera descends to reveal a water tower atop a building in New York City. The camera pulls back to reveal the large open window of a loft studio. We can see and hear Liv Ullman instructing Meryl Streep on how to sob and cry with a convincing foreign accent. The camera slowly pans to the surface of the East River and zooms in on the water. The camera swivels to focus on a steep wooded slope in the medium distance. The camera climbs the sheer face and pauses on a sign reading ‘END OF THE WORLD Edmonton, Alberta.’ The camera pans further upward to reveal a cloudy leaded sky. Lightning flickers. Rain begins to fall. The camera zooms in on a single silver rain droplet. The raindrop explodes like an atomic bomb on a black slate step in an extreme close-up. The camera pulls back to reveal the front porch of a bungalow. The porch is festooned with flower baskets and plant pots. Ann and meGeoff are seated side by side. Cigarettes smoulder in the ashtray on the table between them. Smoke curls around them like a shroud. Each is absorbed by the screens of their Apple devices.)
Ann: Fuck!
meGeoff: Now what? Der Trumpenfuhrer?
Ann: Who else? You know, I never used to curse and swear.
meG: Hard not to. He’s an odious douche bag.
Ann: Fuck.
(They reach for their respective cigarettes and fall silent, re-absorbed by their individual screens.)
Ann: There’s an uptick in covid cases in town.
meG: Not surprising what with the easing of restrictions and the re-opening of the economy.
Ann: It’s as if people think the virus was just visiting, came for a while and moved on. I don’t get it.
meG: Wait until it teams up with flu season.
Ann: I need a holiday.
meG: Where can we go?
Ann: I don’t know. I just don’t know. I was thinking separate ones.
meG: Oh.
(They both stub out their cigarettes. They both light fresh ones. They stare at each other through cloudy tornados of smoke until they are both distracted by prompts and pings from their respective devices. Time passes.)
meG: Oh! Hey! Here’s some good news!
Ann: What’s that?
meG: The Stones are re-releasing Goats Head Soup!
Ann: Hmpf.
meG: This is exciting, baby, something to feel good about and look forward to.
Ann: Don’t you, I mean we, already have it?
meG: Of course! But the deluxe edition will include The Brussels Affair which is probably their best known live bootleg.
Ann: Don’t you, I mean we, already have it?
meG: Erm, yeah.
Ann: Hmpf.
meG: And there’s a disc or two of unreleased tracks and demos! Okay, I, I mean we, already have a boot of ‘Criss Cross’ called ‘Criss Cross Man’ but there’ll be other stuff too! Did you know that a lot of the material recorded for the Goats sessions in Jamaica in the early seventies turned up nearly ten years later on Tattoo You, their last great album?
Ann: Hmpf.
meG: You don’t seem overly enthused.
Ann: Um, well, gee… What’s on Goats Head Soup? I know I’ve heard it, but I don’t remember it.
meG: The big hit was ‘Angie,’ but that was the third best ballad on the album. ‘Winter’ is sublime, sadness wrapped in Mick Taylor guitar solos. Keith’s ‘Coming Down Again’ is an achingly vulnerable lament about addiction and adultery; they're not very different if you think about it, similar states of want and need. The rockers were more distinctive for their words than their riffs. ‘Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo (Heartbreaker)’ remains an angry slice of social commentary. ‘Star Star’ is Berryesque and hilarious provided you can make out the words and slurs. I’ve always thought ‘Silver Train’ was a worthy sequel to ‘All Down the Line’ from Exile. Migration, salvation, haven’t trains been a recurring metaphor in rock, blues, country and gospel music? Goats Head was considered something of a louche and lazy follow-up to Exile, but that album too, now considered a masterpiece, was panned upon its release. Historical revisionism is everywhere.
Ann: (Zzzz.)
meG: My apologies. It seems I’ve bored you to tears.
Ann: I’m just crying out for some different company after more than 100 days of lockdown.
meG: Funny you should say that because one of the more experimental tracks on Goats Head is ‘100 Years Ago.’ Not that the Stones have ever been terribly experimental, they’ve never strayed too far from their blues foundation. However, I believe it’s somewhat significant to note that their two departed guitarists, founder Brian Jones and his replacement Mick Taylor, were probably the most adventurous musicians in the -
Ann: Aargh! From the depths of Hell I will stab at thee with a dull bread knife!
meG: Well, at least we’ve both got something to be excited about.
(The camera pulls back from the porch of the Crooked 9 and ascends. Soon their home blends into greater Edmonton’s pattern of rooftops. The city soon becomes a mere blot on the prairie. All of North America is then revealed. The continent becomes part of the marbling of the blue and white planetary disc. The camera reverses through the solar system at speed. The spiral of the Milky Way bleeds into view and then recedes into a dot. Fade to black.)
No comments:
Post a Comment