ALMOST FAMOUS
Cameron Crowe
December, 1998
1 FADE IN 1
A close-shot of a yellow legal tablet. A young hand comes
into frame, holding a pencil. For a few moments, we hear only
the soft scratching of pencil on paper, as credits are written
in a series of dissolves. The hand carefully erases and
corrects an error or two along the way. And then the sound of
an old friend... the warm crackle of a vinyl record... as we
now hear Alvin and the Chipmunks' "Christmas Song."
2 EXT. PACIFIC OCEAN -- DAY 2
A lone palm tree rises up into a yellow afternoon sky. Behind
it, the sparkling blue of the Pacific Ocean and the city of
San Diego. A dry, hot Southern California day. Even the wind
is lazy, and a little bored.
3 EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD SHOPPING CENTER - DAY 3
Santa Claus wears shorts and sandals, ringing a bell as he
collects for the Salvation Army. This is Christmas in the
Southland. No snow, no winter wonderland. Just a pleasantly
thick heat and an unchanging season, as music continues.
Turning the corner, walking into frame is ELAINE MILLER, 35.
She is a tall woman, consumed by the fevered conversation she's
Having with her pale young son WILLIAM, late pre-teens. They
stand apart from the other shoppers. All around them is the
highly-charged salesmanship of the season... silver glittering
fake Christmas trees. She hurries her son through the
commercial juggernaut, continuing their lively intellectual
conversation, when something stops her. A Workman is affixing
letters to a store-front. He has already placed the MERRY...
now he's finishing the XMAS. Elaine is strong, but always
pleasant, always clear about her purpose in this life.
ELAINE
Excuse me, I'm a teacher. There is no
word in The English Language -- "Xmas."
It's either Merry Christmas... or Happy
Holidays.
The Workman nods thanks, with faux appreciation, as Mom turns
away. The Workman shares a look with William, who shrugs -
that's my Mom.
TITLE: 1969
4 EXT. MINI-TRACT CONDO COMPLEX -- DAY 4
This is the new professional-class. It's a mini-condo
community. Rows of Spanish-styled three-bedroom houses with
common walls. Move in on one of these homes, the one without
Christmas lights. At the door is a furtive 15 year-old Girl.
She checks her cheek, straightens her hair. She hides
something under her coat, and gathers the proper nonchalance
to enter. Music fades.
5 INT. KITCHEN -- DAY 5
We now hear the dialogue between this lively Mother and her
son, as she cooks a pan full of soy-based health-food cutlets.
The meal simmers unappetizingly in the pan. Across the kitchen
we see William. He's a great listener, with a calm and curious
face that takes everything in.
WILLIAM
- so Livia -
ELAINE
-- killed everyone off so her son
Tiberius could inherit the throne.
(thoughtful pause)
Just like Nixon.
William nods, intrigued. He has a good disposition. The
world of knowledge engages him, and he loves what it brings
out in his Mom. There is a small clatter at the front door,
as the girl we've just seen enters, barely brushing some chimes.
She silently curses herself.
ELAINE (cont'd)
Anita, is that you?
ANITA'S VOICE
Hey Mom! I already ate.
Mom moves to the living room to greet William's sister. William
peers into the next room.
6 INT. LIVING ROOM -- DAY 6
She's almost to her bedroom down the hall when mom catches
her. We now discover ANITA, 16, up-close. She is an alluring
young Natalie Wood, with a suspicious and sunny smile.
ELAINE
You sure? I'm making soy cutlets.
The words "soy cutlets" sends a small shiver through the girl.
ANITA
I'm fine. Already ate.
William stands in the doorway now, watching, monitoring, as
Mom moves closer to his sister. She sees something curious
about her daughter.
ELAINE
Wait. You've been kissing.
ANITA
(too quickly)
No I haven't.
ELAINE
(peering at her lips)
Yes... yes, you have...
ANITA
No I haven't.
ELAINE
Yes you have. I can tell.
ANITA
(boldly)
You can't tell.
Mom steps closer and examines the lips even more carefully.
To her, everything is a quest for knowledge.
ELAINE
Not only can I tell, I know who it is.
It's Darryl.
Anita is stunned silent. She turns slightly to look at herself
in a hall mirror, searching for clues, implicating herself
immediately.
ELAINE (cont'd)
And what have you got under your coat?
This is the booty Anita didn't want to give up. Mom picks at
the corner of an album cover now visible under her jacket.
She withdraws the album. It's Simon and Garfunkel's Bookends.
ANITA
(busted)
It's unfair that we can't listen to
our music!
ELAINE
(weary of the issue)
Honey, it's all about drugs and
promiscuous sex.
ANITA
Simon and Garfunkel is poetry!
ELAINE
Yes it's poetry. It's the poetry of
drugs and promiscuous sex. Look at
the picture on the cover...
CLOSE ON BOOKENDS ALBUM COVER
Mom's fingers at the edges. We examine the insolent faces on
Richard Avedon's classic album cover. Even Simon and Garfunkle
look guilty under her scholarly inspection.
ELAINE (cont'd)
... honey, they're on pot.
ANITA
First it was butter, then sugar and
white flour.
(beat)
Bacon. Eggs, bologna, rock and roll,
motorcycles.
Nearby, William squirms as he watches the gently escalating
conversation. Anita glances at her brother. He silently
urges her to downshift. She can't.
ANITA (cont'd)
Then it was celebrating Christmas on a
day in September When you knew it
wouldn't be "commercialized."
ELAINE
That was an experiment. But I
understand -
ANITA
What else are you going to ban?
ELAINE
Honey, you want to rebel against
knowledge.
ELAINE (cont'd)
I'm trying to give you the Cliff's
Notes on how to live in this world.
ANITA
(simple and direct)
We're like nobody else I know.
These are the words that sting Mom most.
ELAINE
I'm a teacher. Why can't I teach my
own kids?
(pats chest)
Use me.
ANITA
Darryl says you use knowledge to keep
me down. He says I'm a "yes" person
and you're trying to raise us in a
"no" environment!
ELAINE
(immediately, can't help
it)
Well, clearly, "no" is a word Darryl
doesn't hear much.
Anita gasps. Ever the peacemaker, William weighs in. Nearby
is a poster - "No More War."
WILLIAM
Mom --
ELAINE
Everything I say is wrong.
ANITA
I can't live here! I hate you! Even
William hates you!
WILLIAM
I don't hate her.
ANITA
(to William)
You don't even know the truth!
William looks vaguely confused.
ELAINE
Sweetheart, don't be a drama queen.
Anita takes a breath and then out of her mouth comes the
strangled-sounding words of a kid swearing at her parent for
the first time.
ANITA
Feck you! All of you!
ELAINE
Hey!
Anita runs down the hall to her room. Elaine turns to William,
relating to him more as a fellow parent than a child.
ELAINE (cont'd)
Well, there it is. Your sister using
the "f" word.
WILLIAM
I think she said "feck."
ELAINE
(sputtering)
What's the difference?
WILLIAM
(encouraging)
Well. The letter "u"...
Shot moves in on the kid, as we hear the opening strains of
The Moody Blues' "Nights in White Satin."
7 INT. SCHOOL DANCE/GYMNASIUM BATHROOM -- NIGHT 7
Music continues. Shot moves along a row of very mature-looking
male teenagers, examining themselves in the bathroom mirror.
There's the kid with a very mature-looking moustache, the kid
proudly sporting full-blown hormonal acne (he slaps on some
Hai Karate), the guy to whom puberty has already delivered the
face of an adult, complete with long jutting sideburns... and
then a blank space at the mirror, as the shot moves down, down,
down to find William. He is so much younger, without a zit in
sight. Puberty is so very distant on his horizon.
8 INT. DANCE -- NIGHT -- UNDER-CRANKED 8
Song continues as we see William's perspective of these much-
older looking kids. Girls now are visible, and they are even
more mature than the boys we've just seen. They flirt and
glow, arms trailing across the shoulders of the boys.
Whispering in each other's ears, none of them looking down.
It's a troubling experience, to be this close to the alluring
world of older teenagers... and to be so invisible to them.
VOICE (O.S.)
Are you really in our grade?
9 INT. JUNIOR HIGH LOCKER ROOM -- DAY 9
VOICE
(louder)
Are you really in our grade?
William turns to see tall, adenoidal TIM TOBIN. The most mature
looking kid we've seen yet, he challenges William in a loud
theatrical tone. It is a voice right out of Guys and Dolls,
which incidentally is the school play in which Tobin had just
starred. William answers in a respectful voice. He is
desperate for acceptance.
WILLIAM
Yeah.
TOBIN
Hey guys! Check it out! William
doesn't have any pubes!
Others now begin to gather around, examining William. He has
never been more naked.
GUY # 1
How old are you man?
TOBIN
He's not a man, he's a little baby
kid. He Doesn't even get zits yet.
GUY # 2
How come you don't have any hair down
there?
TOBIN
(in loud, funny voice)
Where are your pubes???!!
Their voices echo off the tiled walls. Now everyone is watching
the hairless William. He is confused by their meanness.
GUY # 2
Yeah. Where are your pubes?
All eyes are on him, waiting for a response. The kid's mental
wheels turn frantically. And from somewhere comes an attitude,
a swagger, and somehow the perfect line arrives from what could
only be a merciful deity.
WILLIAM
(cool, dismissive)
I had 'em. I shaved 'em off.
It is a new persona for the kid -- the witty guy. And it works.
Guy #2 cracks up, then others. William's new accuser is
suddenly surrounded by the impressed gales of laughter of these
older boys. Others turn away, on to other things. Tobin stares
at William, and then also turns away.
10 INT. FAMILY CAR -- DAY 10
William jumps into the backseat of the white Ford Country Sedan
station wagon, carrying books. ("See ya pubes!") Mom continues
driving William and Anita home from school.
ELAINE
(cheerfully, by rote, to
William in back)
Put on your seatbelt. I don't want
you flying through the windshield.
Anita examines her own un-fastened seatbelt, which Mom hasn't
noticed.
WILLIAM
We got our annuals today --
ELAINE
(cheerful, automatic)
"Received" your annual.
WILLIAM
(looking at his photo)
I look so much younger than everyone
else.
ELAINE
Enjoy it while you can.
Camera drifts from Mom to Anita, who can take it no longer.
ANITA
Mom. It's time.
ELAINE
(pleasant, pointed)
Can this wait until we get home?
ANITA
Mom, pull over. Tell him the truth.
Tell him how old he is.
Mom pulls over, and stares straight ahead with deep irritation.
ELAINE
(as in "be quiet")
He knows how old he is.
ANITA
The other kids make fun of him because
of How young he looks. Nobody includes
him.
They call him "The Narc" behind his back...
WILLIAM
They do?
ELAINE
What's a "Narc?"
ANITA
(bleeding for her brother)
A Narcotics Officer!
ELAINE
Well what's wrong with that?
WILLIAM
(ever the peacemaker)
Come on you guys. It's no big deal.
I'm 12. It's okay. She skipped me a
grade, it's okay. Big deal. I'm a
year younger. They're 13, I'm 12 --
(beat)
Aren't I?
Their silence is eloquent.
ELAINE
(confessing, in a rush)
I also put you in first grade when you
were five and never told you.
WILLIAM
(trembling)
So... I'm... how old?
A heavy quiet. She and his sister ignore him, as they now
debate the subject with each other.
ANITA
You lied to him! You make such a big
deal about the truth and you lied!
ELAINE
(that one hurts)
He never asked.
ANITA
What -- like he's going to ask if he's
as old as he thinks he is? Don't you
realize, this is going to scar him
forever?
ELAINE
Honey... sweetheart... don't be
Cleopatra. We have to be his mother
and his Dad.
ANITA
You put too much pressure on him!
WILLIAM
(apprehensive)
How... old...
ANITA
And when he rebels in some strange and
odd way, don't blame me.
WILLIAM
... am I?
ELAINE
(matter of fact)
I skipped you an extra grade. You're
eleven.
WILLIAM
(horrified, voice crackling)
ELEVEN?
He looks at his body, the information affects him physically.
New sounds come from way down deep inside. Mom now begins
speed-rapping, trying to stem the leak. She starts the car.
ELAINE
So you skipped fifth grade. There's
too much padding In the grades. I
taught elementary school. 5th grade -
unnecessary. Nothing happens in the
5th grade. All Teachers know it, no
one talks about it.
WILLIAM
(still in shock)
E - leven.
ELAINE
And you skipped kindergarten because I
taught it to you when you were four.
WILLIAM
(still horrified, looking
at his body)
This explains... so much...
ANITA
You've robbed him of an adolescence!
ELAINE
Adolescence is a marketing tool.
ANITA
He's got no "crowd"... no friends...
WILLIAM
Okay!
Anita reaches out to her brother. With the compassion of a
saint, she offers this:
ANITA
Honey, I know you were expecting
puberty. You're just going to have to
shine it on for a while.
Deeply embarrassed, William shrinks down in the seat. Mom
monitors his face constantly. She is raw and sincere... and
yes, inspiring:
ELAINE
Who needs a "crowd?" You're unique. You're
two years ahead of everybody. Take those
extra years and do what you want. Go to
Europe for a year! Take a look around,
see what you like! Follow your dream!
You'll still be the youngest lawyer in the
country. Your own great grandfather
practiced law until he was 93. Your dad
was so proud of you. He knew you were a
pronominally accelerated child.
ANITA
What about me?
ELAINE
(heartbroken, can't help
herself)
You're rebellious and ungrateful of my
love.
ANITA
Well, somebody's gotta be normal around
here!
WILLIAM
(blinking, still can't
believe it)
Eleven.
11 INT. WILLIAM'S BEDROOM -- DAY 11
William finishes the last of many candy bars. A mound of
wrappers sit just below the mirror. He examines his face
hopefully for zits. Nothing coming. We begin to hear Simon
and Garfunkel's "America."
12 INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY 12
Anita stands in the living room. The song continues playing
on the stereo.
ANITA
I want to play you a song that explains
why I'm leaving, and try to listen.
ELAINE
We can't talk? We have to listen to
rock music?
13 EXT. FRONT LAWN -- DAY 13
William watches sadly. Anita's good-looking boyfriend DARRYL,
a dead ringer for young Stephen Stills, loads her suitcases
into a large turqouise Chevy. The suitcases are adorned with
plastic stick-on flowers. All coolness is leaving William's
life. Mom watches nearby, worried and helpless. (Their house
is more austere, less "fun" than the other front lawns.)
WILLIAM
Take good care of her in San Francisco,
man.
Darryl gives the kid a sub-human look. He's invisible, too
young to converse with.
ELAINE
How can she leave such a loving family?
Anita turns and heads towards them. She focuses on William,
placing her hands on his young shoulders. Her face is very
close to him now, as she delivers this sage prediction of the
future.
ANITA
One day you'll be cool.
He nods stoically, hopefully. He is utterly lost. She leans
forward and whispers in his ear.
ANITA (cont'd)
Look under your bed. It'll set you
free.
Anita shakes hands with Mom, and exits. As the car takes off:
ELAINE
She'll be back.
In the distance we hear the whoop of her daughter.
ANITA
YEAHHHHH-HOOOOOOOO.
ELAINE
Maybe not soon...
William watches wistfully. He moves away from his mother.
She pulls him closer. Shot moves in on his slightly fearful
face.
14 INT. DARRYL'S CAR - DAY 14
Anita looks back at the receding American Gothic-image of her
mother and brother. Sister waves to brother. She feels for
him. Music now shifts to The Who's "Sparks."
15 INT. BEDROOOM -- NIGHT 15
William locks the door. He reaches under his bed. It's a
black leatherette travel bag, with tartan design. He unzips
the bag -- it's filled with albums. He flips through the
amazing, subversive cache of music. Cream's Wheels of Fire...
the seminal Bob Dylan bootleg Great White Wonder... the Rolling
Stones' Get Yer Ya Ya's Out... The Beach Boys' Pet Sounds...
Abraxas by Santana... Jethro Tull's Stand Up... The Mother's of
Invention's We're Only In It For The Money... Led Zeppelin...
Crosby, Stills and Nash... Miles Davis' Bitches Brew... and
The Who's Tommy... with a note taped to it.
ANITA (V.O.)
"Listen to Tommy with a candle burning
and you will see your entire future..."
The heady effect of all these albums registers, as we see him
lighting a candle.
TITLE: 1973
DETAIL SHOT OF NOTEBOOK
A blue school notebook, with ballpoint pen renderings of the
names of groups like the Who and Led Zeppelin, complete with
carefully drawn thunderbolts. Also, the name LESTER BANGS.
16 INT. JOURNALISM CLASS -- DAY 16
William, now 15, sits in class with book, Adventures in
Journalism. His hair is shoulder-length. A dedicated teacher,
PATRICIA DEEGAN, walks the aisles. Music continues.
17 EXT. FOOD MACHINES - DAY 17
William presses the food machine button, pulls an orange from
a vending container. He still looks younger than most of the
students... and these days, especially the girls.
18 EXT. LUNCH COURT -- DAY 18
William sits apart from all the others, under a tree. He reads
intently, happily, as he eats the orange. It's a copy of Creem
Magazine. Music continues.
CLOSE ON PHOTOS IN MAGAZINE
Camera moves across the photos, catching the expressions and
fashions of the rock heroes of the day. Ian Anderson of Jethro
Tull, eyes wide and hair flying as he plays flute. Neil Young,
enigmatic with perfectly patched Levis. The Southern Rock Royalty
of The Allman Brothers Band, posing and laughing in front of
massive stacks of amps. Marc Bolan of T. Rex, his ringlet-hair
backlit by stage lights. David Bowie in skin-tight Japanese one-
piece attire, onstage with The Spiders From Mars. Pete Townsend
of the Who, slashing windmill-style at his guitar.
Drift down to a by-line - by Lester Bangs.
19 EXT. PARKING LOT - DAY 19
William walks through the parking lot after school. Everybody
now congregates around the new arrival of their lives - their
own cars. Arms suddenly clap William on the back, friendly
faces smile strangely, laughing. He takes a few steps and
looks up to see... a school official is hurriedly removing
something from the high-school marquee.
HIGH-SCHOOL MARQUEE
which reads: WILLIAM MILLER IS TOO YOUNG TO DRIVE (OR FUCK)
All are laughing. He laughs with them, and turns as his face
goes slack. He shrugs, marches on.
20 EXT. DOWNTOWN SAN DIEGO RADIO STATION -- DAY 20
The song we've been listening to is ripped off the turntable by
a highly-active man in a red promotional t-shirt proclaiming the
greatness of The Guess Who. He is a ferocious, lumbering, music-
driven presence, and he fills this small radio studio to the
very brim. This is LESTER BANGS, 25, the rarely-seen God of a
then new art-form -- Rock Journalism. A Disc-jockey with long-
long hair watches helplessly. William views all this through a
glass window. He stands on the corner of a downtown side
street, halfway up a steep incline. He is the only person on
the streets this early Saturday morning. Reveal that he is
watching a live radio show, audible to us through the small
p.a. speaker overhead.
DISC-JOCKEY
Quite an honor to have the World's
Greatest Rock Critic... and editor of
Creem Magazine, back Home in San Diego
for a few days -- Lester Bangs.
LESTER BANGS
What is this hippie station?! Where's
Iggy Pop? Don't you have a copy of
Raw Power?!
DISC-JOCKEY
Lester, isn't it a little early for
this?
Bangs searches for the album -- vinyl flying everywhere now,
with no regard for album jackets.
BANGS
Found it!!
21 EXT. RADIO STATION -- DAY 21
William watches intently. Bangs thuds the needle onto a copy
of Raw Power. We're rewarded with a blast of Iggy and the
Stooges' "Search and Destroy." A closer shot on William now
watching the whirlwind of anarchy inside. Lester does an Iggy
Pop impression, acting out a story for the d.j. that we cannot
hear, never noticing the kid soaking in everything from the
other side of this double-glass window.
22 EXT. RADIO STATION -- DAY -- LATER 22
Bangs walks with William on this sharply inclined San Diego
street. It's early, the streets are silent. Bangs is about
fifteen beer pounds overweight. His jeans are loose, his
paleness and messy moustache an emblem of the long days and
nights spent writing. In there somewhere is a good-looking
guy. His hands are thrust deeply into his pockets, and he
takes big sweeping steps.
BANGS
So you're the one who's been sending
me those articles from your school
newspaper -
WILLIAM
I've been doing some stuff for a local
underground paper, too.
BANGS
What are you like the star of your
school?
WILLIAM
They hate me.
BANGS
You'll meet them all again on their
long journey to the middle.
The kid nods, they walk.
BANGS (cont'd)
Well, your writing is damn good. It's
just a shame you missed out on rock
and roll.
WILLIAM
I did?
BANGS
Oh yeah. It's over.
WILLIAM
Over?
BANGS
Over. You got here just in time for
the death rattle, the last gasp, the
last grope.
WILLIAM
Well. At least I'm here for that.
Bangs looks at the much smaller kid, shaking his head. It's
too late for newcomers. But if the kid's age is an issue, he
doesn't mention it. Like a machine-gun:
BANGS
What do you type on?
WILLIAM
Smith-Corona Galaxis Deluxe.
BANGS
You like the new Lou Reed?
WILLIAM
(automatic)
The early stuff. The new stuff, he's
trying to be Bowie, he should be
himself. I'm not a big Lou man.
BANGS
Yeah, but if Bowie's doing Lou, and
Lou's Doing Bowie, Lou's still doing
Lou.
WILLIAM
(standing his ground)
If you like Lou.
BANGS
Take drugs?
WILLIAM
No.
BANGS
Smart kid. I used to do speed and
sometimes Nyquil and stay up all night
writing and writing, like 25 pages of
dribble about, you know, the Guess
Who, or Coltrane, just to write, you
know, with the music blasting...
WILLIAM
Me too. The writing part...
For a moment, the serious demeanor dissolves and the oddest
thing happens. Bangs laughs. It's an odd and charming laugh,
the kind a tough guy keeps well-hidden. It surprised the kid,
who smiles back. Bangs stops at the corner, and offers a
pleasant but very final nod of the head.
BANGS
Well, alright. It's been nice to meet
you. I'll see you around. Keep sending
me your stuff.
WILLIAM
Okay. See you.
BANGS
I can't stand here all day talking to
my many fans.
WIDE SHOT - SOLITUDE
But neither have anywhere to go on this early downtown morning.
They stand for a beat, hands in pockets, on this deserted
street. They are alone together, there's nobody else in sight.
23 INT. DINER -- DAY 23
William listens intently as Lester eat a sandwich. His face
is an open book filling with words.
BANGS
-- so anyway, you're from San Diego
and that's good. Because once you go
to L.A., you're gonna have friends
like crazy but they'll be fake friends,
they're gonna try to corrupt you. The
publicists! The bands! You got an
honest face, they're gonna tell you
everything. But you CANNOT make friends
with the rock stars.
The kid takes out a green collegiate notebook and gestures --
can I make a note? Bangs nods.
BANGS (cont'd)
Cannot make friends with the rock stars.
(savage bite)
That's what's important. If you're a rock
journalist, a true journalist -- first you
will never get paid much. But you will
get free records from the record company.
The kid's eyes widen. Bangs, in direct conflict with his brutal
writing style, is looking suspiciously like a compassionate
softie.
BANGS (cont'd)
And they'll buy you drinks, you'll meet
girls... they'll try to fly you places for
free.... offer you drugs... I know. It
sounds great. But they are not your
friends. These are people who want you
to write sanctimonious stories about the
genius of the rock stars and they will
ruin rock and roll and strangle everything
we love about it.
Privately, William thrills. We. Our. It all sounds great to
him. He listens to the grouping of the words, every one of
them. He madly scribbles.
BANGS (cont'd)
They are trying to buy respectability
for a form that is gloriously and
righteously -
The kid leans forward as Lester finds the right word.
BANGS (cont'd)
- dumb! And you're smart enough to
know that. And the day it ceases to
be dumb is the day it ceases to be
real. Right? And then it will just
Become an Industry of Cool.
WILLIAM
... Industry... of... cool...
BANGS
And that's what they want! And it's
happening right now. I'm telling you,
you're coming along at a very dangerous
time for rock and roll. The war is
over. They won. 99% of what passes
for rock now... SILENCE is much more
compelling. It's over. I think you
should turn around and go back and
be... a lawyer or something... but I
can see from your face that you won't.
I can pay you thirty-five bucks. Gimme
a thousand words on Black Sabbath.
WILLIAM
(attempting cool)
An assignment.
LESTER
Yeah. And you should build your
reputation on being honest... and
unmerciful.
WILLIAM
(writing in notebook)
Honest... unmerciful...
BANGS
And if you get into a jam -- call me.
I stay up late.
Bangs reaches across the table, and William watches as he
scribbles his number on the back of the kid's green collegiate
notebook. The notebook has just become valuable. They sit
together, listening to the beautiful and compelling silence.
24 INT. FAMILY CAR -- NIGHT 24
Mom drives William to the San Diego Sports Arena. She looks
out the window at the adrenalized concert-goers. She feels
protective not just of her son, but an entire generation.
William goes over his questions for Black Sabbath.
ELAINE
Look at this. An entire generation of
Cinderellas and there's no slipper
coming.
William looks out the window at the sign: TONIGHT - SOLD OUT -
BLACK SABBATH with special guest Stillwater.
WILLIAM
You can drop me off here.
ELAINE
Black. Sabbath. Just remember - you
wanted to be Atticus Finch in To Kill
a Mockingbird.
The kid doesn't answer. He silently goes over his questions.
ELAINE (cont'd)
As long as I know this is just a hobby,
I'll go along with it.
WILLIAM
All I have to do is listen. That's
what Lester Bangs said.
ELAINE
(dryly)
I'll be waiting right here at eleven
'o clock sharp. If you get lost, use
the family whistle.
He unhooks his seatbelt, stuffs his questions into an orange
canvas shoulder-bag and exits.
Elaine watches her son disappearing into the stony rock-concert
crowd. It's a windy night. Everything about this image
troubles her. She fights with herself, and then uses the family
whistle immediately. He turns.
ELAINE (cont'd)
(sweetly, too loud)
Don't take drugs!!
Fifteen concert-goers turn around instinctively, at the sound
of a Mother, and then identify William as the object of her
concern. All around him, we hear:
HAPPY CONCERT GOERS
Don't take drugs!!
He winces, nods and moves forward. Music echoes from the open
windows of many other cars.
25 EXT. SAN DIEGO SPORTS ARENA BACKSTAGE RAMP -- NIGHT 25
The kid tromps down the steep incline leading to a small steel
backstage arena door. He rings the buzzer. The door wheezes
open to reveal the keeper of the San Diego Sports Arena's
backstage list. Famous to all those who attempt to enter,
this is SCOTTY. He is a wiry, humorless man for whom
powerlessness is the theme of his life -- except for those few
hours he controls the list. Scotty is only forty but everything
about him screams that he's an angry sixty.
WILLIAM
Hi. I'm William Miller and I'm here
from Creem Magazine to interview the
band Black Sabbath.
Scotty, immediately suspicious, moves to a nearby podium and
snaps through three clipboard pages. He moves back to the
door and grabs the handle.
SCOTTY
Not on the list.
He shuts the door with finality. The kid stands silently for
a moment. He looks over his shoulder, at two chattering
Groupies watching his dilemma from the top of the ramp. They
look at him sympathetically, but he turns away. William rings
the buzzer again, withdrawing a copy of Creem from his bag.
The door opens.
WILLIAM
Sir, I'm a journalist, and here's a
copy of the magazine.
The magazine hangs in mid-air.
SCOTTY
You're not on the list. Go to the
top of the ramp with the girls!
Slam. William stands there for a moment. Unsure of what to
do next, he looks back to the top of the ramp. Rejected by
him just moments earlier, the groupies now feign disinterest.
Bracing himself, William rings again. The door opens slowly
this time. Scotty stands peering at him.
WILLIAM
(in a rush)
What-happens-after-I-go-to-the-top-of-
the-ramp with-the-gi -
Slam. Lock.
26 EXT. TOP OF SPORTS ARENA RAMP -- NIGHT 26
William inches into the realm of the girls at the top of the
ramp. The wind whips. It's just him, and two Groupies in
their evening best. They now pretend to barely notice the
young journalist who has been banished to stand with them.
Chattering excitedly, with sophistication far beyond her 17
years, is ESTRELLA. She sports long unruly black hair. Her
partner hangs in the shadows, adjusting shoes. Estrella turns
to the kid with great disinterest.
ESTRELLA
Who are you with?
WILLIAM
(embarrassed to be alive)
Me? I'm with myself.
ESTRELLA
No, who are you with? What band?
WILLIAM
I'm here to interview Black Sabbath.
(beat)
I'm a journalist. I'm not a... you
know...
Estrella stares at him. Moving into the parking lot light,
introducing herself, is a luminous girl in a green faux-fur
trimmed coat. This is PENNY LANE. There is an inviting warmth
and real interest in the way she asks:
PENNY LANE
... you're not a what?
WILLIAM
(enthralled)
Oh... I'm just... not a... you know.
PENNY LANE
Not a "what"?
WILLIAM
(charmed)
You know. A "groupie."
The two girls are deeply insulted by the word.
ESTRELLA
Ohhh!
WILLIAM
Sorry, I -
PENNY LANE
We. Are not. "Groupies."
Estrella indicates Penny with great reverence.
ESTRELLA
This is Penny Lane, man. Show some
respect.
WILLIAM
-- sorry.
Penny steps closer, focusing completely on the kid. Behind
her, concert-goers throw a few woo-woos their way. She seems
not to hear them.
PENNY LANE
"Groupies" sleep with rock stars because
they want to be near someone famous.
We are here because of the music. We
are Band Aids.
ESTRELLA
She used to run a school for Band Aids.
PENNY LANE
We don't have intercourse with these
guys. We support the music. We inspire
the music. We are here because of the
music.
William is nodding like a doll in a dashboard window.
Listening.
ESTRELLA
Marc Bolan broke her heart, man. It's
famous.
PENNY LANE
It's a long story. I'm retired now.
I'm just visiting friends.
ESTRELLA
She was the one who changed everything.
She said "no more sex, no more
exploiting our bodies and hearts... "
WILLIAM
Right. Right.
ESTRELLA
"... just blow-jobs, and that's it."
WILLIAM
Okay. Well, see, now I get the
difference.
Shot drifts off him and picks up, out of the darkness, another
breathless girl teetering on tall shoes. She is in the vicinity
of 16. Her black hair is cropped short and died red, just
like the cover of Bowie's Aladdin Sane. She is POLEXIA, the
voluptuous one, from Riverside.
POLEXIA
(the usual greeting)
It's all happening. It's all happening.
ESTRELLA
Polexia!! Did you tell Sabbath we
were going to be here?
POLEXIA
I talked to Dick with Stillwater, I
talked with Sabbath. They're all dying
to see us. It's all happening.
PENNY LANE
This is our journalist friend.
Journalist Friend, meet Estrella Starr,
and Polexia Aphrodisia. And you are --
WILLIAM
William.
Silent beat. His name lands like a thud.
POLEXIA
Here comes Sabbath!
ESTRELLA
Ozzy!!! Tony!!! It's us!!
A long black limo with darkened windows swishes past, beeps
twice. The metal backstage gate rises and the limo rolls
inside. And then silence again. The girls do not discuss
being rebuffed.
ESTRELLA (cont'd)
I think I saw Sapphire in there.
POLEXIA
(can't hold it in any longer)
Okay. I was with Ian Hunter all night
at Rodney's Last night. Wanna see his
spoo? I saved it in a baggie.
She opens her purse and shows the girls something inside.
William edges away.
ESTRELLA
(peering into purse)
I'm really happy he's doing so well.
PENNY
(regarding what's in purse)
Yeah. I know he's such a talented
guy. I mean, look at him. Who deserves
it more?
POLEXIA
(looking in purse)
Nobody -- he's so sweet.
ESTRELLA
(with compassion)
Don't you just root for him, you know.
To go that little distance between
good and great?
PENNY
Wait. That's not his. I would know
his.
A very odd look on his face, William now cranes for a discreet
look. What's in that purse?
BAM -- THE BACKSTAGE DOOR OPENS
Out steps SAPPHIRE, 19, a tall girl with taller platforms. Heavy
eye-makeup. Her accent is Texan, with odd traces of English.
In one hand is a half-drained bottle of champagne. In the other,
a fistful of backstage passes.
SAPPHIRE
Does anybody remember laugh-tah?
(as they turn)
Come and GET 'EM!
The girls scream and happily head down the ramp to Sapphire.
Penny looks back and grabs William with a well-placed arm hooked
around his. He joins the clacking sea of legs moving down the
ramp. Sapphire slaps passes on the girls. As Scotty (The
Keeper of the Backstage List) watches, Penny now slips William
forward for a pass.
SCOTTY
Oh no. Not this one --
SAPPHIRE
(off William)
Who brought Opie?
The kid looks over his shoulder. Who's Opie?
PENNY
He's with us.
SCOTTY
(hand blocking William)
He wasn't with you.
SAPPHIRE
(to Scotty)
Are you going to turn this into a
Thing?
SCOTTY
All of you can wait outside! Top of
the ramp!
WILLIAM
I don't want to cause a Thing. I'll
wait.
PENNY
(privately, to William)
I'll go take care of this.
Sadly, they leave him behind. The thundering arena sound of
the collecting crowd, the p.a. system blasting Yes'
"Roundabout"... purposeful roadies carrying guitar cases...
the glimpse of backstage rock and roll... everything he wants
to be a part of is on the other side of this door. And then
it shuts. He stands alone.
At the top of the ramp, a tour bus unloads. It reads --
STILLWATER TOUR 73. Moving loudly out of the bus is the opening
band. This is Stillwater. Four road-weary band members, and
their road manager. Voices booming.
RUSSELL HAMMOND, 27, presses the buzzer with the nose of his
guitar-case. It's obvious from moment one. This is the star
of the band, the charismatic one. He's tired. They're late.
William recognizes him instantly, as the guitarist stretches.
The buzzer goes unanswered. The kid is invisible to him, as
the others now arrive behind Russell.
Tour/band manager DICK ROSWELL, 27, follows, loudly banging on
the steel door. He has the flaxen-haired look of a former
hippie, but he carries the emblem of a real pro -- the newest
silver Halliburton briefcase covered with backstage passes.
His direction is always - forward.
DICK
Let us in, we're Stillwater! We're on
the show!!
William is surrounded by them now. They stand together under the
single lightbulb, familiar faces, a live-action album cover. JEFF
BEBE the singer, his shiny black hair hanging in sheets around his
head. ED VALLENCOURT the quiet drummer, his long arms hanging
limply at his sides. His is a face made for the background. LARRY
TURNER the compact bass-player. Dick now kicks at the door with
his foot, as William produces a copy of Creem Magazine.
WILLIAM
(to Dick)
Hi, I'm a journalist. I write for Creem
Magazine.
Once again, the magazine hangs there. He can't give it away.
JEFF
The enemy! A rock writer!
WILLIAM
(struggling forward)
I'd like to interview you or someone
from the band.
DICK
(busy, running behind)
I'm sorry but could you please fuck
off?
William blinks a little, takes it in stride. Russell sizes
him up, moving in the background.
WILLIAM
Okay. Okay. I could do that.
JEFF
You guys never listened to our records.
You're all just frustrated musicians.
Do you know what your magazine SAID
about us? What was it - "the singer's
incessant cater walling distracts From
an assault with no clear purpose."
LARRY
(in background)
That was Rolling Stone.
RUSSELL
Yeah. Okay. Fuck off anyway. We
play for fans, not critics.
Stung, William shrugs. It's been a terrible night, but at
least thrillingly so.
WILLIAM
Russell. Jeff. Ed. Larry.
(can't help it)
I really love your band. I think the
song "Fever Dog" is a big step forward
for you guys. I think you guys
producing it yourselves, instead of
Glyn Johns, was the right thing to do.
And the guitar sound was incendiary.
(gestures with fist)
Way to go.
He turns and leaves, beginning his long trek back up the ramp.
Russell looks at the others. That kind of love is hard to
give up.
RUSSELL
(good humored, yelling)
Well don't stop there.
JEFF
Yeah, come back here!! Keep going!
They wave him back, as the backstage door opens again. The
kid moves back down the ramp. They herd him in with them,
through the door. Scotty quickly spots the kid and squares
off.
Russell notes the kid's swirling emotional state, shoves him
forward.
SCOTTY
Not this one.
RUSSELL
He's with us.
SCOTTY
He's not with you. He's not with them.
He's not on the list. He's not coming
in. And this is my arena. And
furthermore -
Russel craves the confrontation and moves forward closer to
Scotty.
SCOTTY (cont'd)
- have a good time tonight. Welcome
to San Diego.
27 INT. BACKSTAGE HALLWAY -- NIGHT 27
The band moves quickly down the hallway, with William moving
to keep up. A young and grizzled red-haired roadie, RED DOG,
catches them on the way. The band swarms around him.
RUSSELL
Red Dog!
RED DOG
We're playing here tomorrow night.
JEFF
(aside, to the kid)
This is Red Dog, the Allman Brothers
Band's number one roadie.
Russel clamps an arm around Red Dog's neck.
RUSSELL
How're the guys?
RED DOG
Havin a ball, man. When we have a
party, we have an Allman Brothers Band
party. Everybody boogies. Everybody
gets off. It's family, man. We all got
These now.
(flashes new mushroom tattoo
on forearm)
We'll see you guys in Boston, right?
(specifically to Russell)
Dicky and Gregg send you their love.
Camera catches flash of envy on the face of Jeff Bebe, as
Stillwater sweeps forward into a small dressing room.
28 INT. DRESSING ROOM -- NIGHT 28
Dressing room activity swirls around him, as William simply
listens. He holds a small microphone. His stoic look gives away
little of the full body rush he's experiencing. As the other
band members drift across frame, Russell Hammond, a true rock and
roll believer, speaks as he straps on his guitar and gets ready
for the show. To the kid, every word is reckless gem.
RUSSELL
... and it's okay, because rock and
roll is a LIFESTYLE... and a way of
thinking and it's not about money and
"popularity!"
JEFF
Some money would be nice.
Jeff sprays some shaving cream into his palm, and rubs it into
his scalp - poor man's mousse.
RUSSELL
- but it's a voice that says here I
am... and FUCK YOU if you can't
understand me.
Russell smooths the strings of his guitar with a small cloth
from his guitar case. The kid notices all these close-up
details of rock.
RUSSELL (cont'd)
And one of those people is gonna save the
world and that means that ROCK AND ROLL
CAN SAVE THE WORLD -- all of us together.
The kid's eyes dance. He checks to make sure he's getting the
recording. He listens intently.
JEFF
And the chicks are great.
RUSSELL
But we didn't do it for that! We are
here because we needed to fuckin be
here, not just 'cause we needed to
away from Troy, Michigan, WHICH WE
DID... but what it all comes down to
is that thing. The Indefinable Thing,
when people catch something from your
music, the thing you put into it. I'm
talking about... what am I talking
about?
WILLIAM
(elegantly)
The buzz?
RUSSELL
THE BUZZ! And the chicks, the
whatever, is an off-shoot of THE BUZZ.
And like -- you saying you liked "Fever
Dog?" That is the fucking buzz, man.
All we get are these fucking old-ass
interviewers who don't understand,
don't LISTEN, don't appreciate why we
are here, which is the fuckin' BUZZ.
William nods, holds his microphone steady. Russell tunes his
guitar, ripping through unamplified guitar licks as he speaks.
Jeff hustles to reclaim his own connection to the interviewer.
JEFF
The next album will be even better.
More texture.
RUSSELL
But... it's not what you put in, is
it? It's what you leave out. Listen
to... listen to Marvin Gaye...
Russell's face grows rapturous as he discusses this piece of
music.
RUSSELL (cont'd)
A song like "What's Going On." That
single "woo" at the end of the second
verse - you know that woo - that single
"woo."
WILLIAM
(proudly)
I know that, "woo."
RUSSELL
(he does it)
That's what you remember. The silly
things, the little things... there's
only one, and it makes the song. It's
what you leave out. That's rock and
roll.
William nods, says nothing, keeps the microphone pointed.
Activity surrounds him.
JEFF
(impressed)
We used to talk more about this stuff.
RUSSELL
Okay. See, this is maybe the most
honest we've ever been in an interview
because you know our music. You're
the first press guy we've made friends
with. We don't normally talk like
this to them. And you're supposed to
be The Enemy! What are you - 18?
WILLIAM
Yeah.
RUSSELL
There you go. Still young enough to
be honest.
DICK
(walkie talkie crackling)
Ten minutes 'till showtime, anyone who
isn't in the band -- out!
Russell takes a last swig of beer. A roadie whisks his guitar
away.
DICK (cont'd)
All this luggage is going to L.A.!
William is swept out in the chaos of the pre-show ritual,
past the pile of luggage by the door. It's a colorful heap of
suitcases, featuring colorful laminated band tags, each with a
number.
29 INT. BACKSTAGE STEPS -- NIGHT -- MINUTES LATER 29
William sits on the backstage steps, writing feverishly in his
notebook. Behind him, two steps higher, Penny Lane scoots
into place.
PENNY LANE
I found you a pass.
WILLIAM
(amped, distracted)
Thanks. I got in with Stillwater.
(as he writes)
The guitarist, Russel Hammond, he
just thoroughly opened up. He is by
far the best and most honest interview
I've ever done.
(she nods)
I've only done two, but you know.
He's number one.
PENNY LANE
You're learning. They're much more
fun on the way up.
William nods, still scribbling. She eases down into place on
the step next to him. Her proximity cause him to look at
her, his eyebrows rising. She smooths them down with two single
fingers.
PENNY LANE (cont'd)
How old are you?
WILLIAM
Eighteen.
PENNY LANE
Me too.
(beat)
How old are we really?
WILLIAM
Seventeen.
PENNY LANE
Me too.
WILLIAM
Actually I'm 16.
PENNY LANE
Me too. Isn't it funny? The truth
just sounds Different.
WILLIAM
(confesses)
I'm 15.
PENNY LANE
You want to know how old I really am?
WILLIAM
(immediately)
No.
She looks upstairs, soaking in the sound of another band tuning
up. Music is her religion.
WILLIAM (cont'd)
How did you get started in all this?
PENNY LANE
It's a long story.
WILLIAM
(quick study)
Right. Right.
PENNY LANE
We live in the same city. We should
be friends.
She takes his backstage pass form his shirt and puts it on his
thigh - the cooler location. Nearby, the dressing room door
opens, and the Stillwater exits. Excitement level rises as
they mass in the hallway with instruments. We hear the amped
voice of Russell growing nearer.
RUSSELL
The Enemy!
He approaches, as William stands. Penny watches, hanging out
of Russell's eyesight.
Standing in the supercharged hallway, the kid is anxious to
introduce his new friends.
WILLIAM
Russell, this is Penny Lane.
PENNY LANE
(stepping into view)
Pleasure.
RUSSELL
Penny Lane? Like the song, right?
PENNY LANE
Have we met?
THEY SHAKE
And do not let go, for too long. There is history in their
shake. Their eyes tell all. Shot takes us to William, who
puts two and two together. It isn't hard. They clearly know
each other. Well.
WILLIAM
Well, I guess you've... you've met.
DICK
Penny Lane! God's gift to rock and
roll!! You're back!
(privately)
Marc Bolan. Please.
Other band members pass, adjusting clothes for show time,
waiting in the hallway... and now singing the Beatles song
"Penny Lane."
RUSSELL
Come on, let's go.
(noting kid's shyness)
Both of you.
30 INT. BACKSTAGE -- NIGHT 30
House lights go down. Cheers rise. Dick's flashlight dances
on the ground just in front of them, guiding their way in the
dark to the stage steps.
RUSSELL
- get in the huddle.
Russell pulls William into the band's huddle.
SHOT LOOKING UP AT THEM
Their band ritual, psyching together, arms on each other's
shoulders in a circle. They sing a dew lines of the classic
"Train Kept A-Rollin'" (or "Go See Cal" from the Cal Worthington
ad) They all touch feet, and then break, heading for the stage.
Russell directs Penny to his side of the stage. The kid follows.
Plugging in, still in darkness, Russell hits a practice chord --
thwack. He steps on effects pedal. Applause. (Adlib onstage
private patter, between members, goading each other -- the stuff
no audience ever hears) Twenty feet away, Dick prepares to
address the crowd from the darkened stage. It is his favorite
moment of the evening, the highlight of his job.
DICK
From Troy, Michigan. Please welcome --
(importantly)
Stillwater.
Light hits the stage, and the band launches into their opening
song, "If You Say Nothing." Audience response is strong.
Shot lingers on the face of William as he soaks in the most
undeniably exciting moment of any concert, the first thirty
seconds.
Jeff the singer grabs the microphone and launches into some
vocal pyrotechnics. Russell looks over to Penny and William,
at stage right, grinning, pretending to trip on his cord, an
elegant show-off move of a musician who is now where he
belongs... before seriously stepping forward for the first
guitar lead of the night. The kid looks over to see Penny
watching Russell.
31 EXT. BACKSTAGE -- NIGHT -- LATER 31
Cases are shut and rolled toward the trucks. Stillwater heads
for their bus. Jeff the singer says goodbye to Estrella Starr,
like a sailor leaving port. Russell lingers behind, saying
goodbye to William, loading his own equipment. Black Sabbath
passes with entourage, heading to the stage.
RUSSELL
(privately)
So. You want to come up to L.A., we'll
be at the "Riot House" all week.
WILLIAM
"The Riot House?"
RUSSELL
The Continental Hyatt House! It's on
Sunset Strip.
WILLIAM
(attempting cool)
Right. Right.
All the while, just over the kid's shoulder, Russell scans the
backstage crowd of hangers-on. Looking perhaps for Penny Lane.
DICK
Let's blow this burg!
RUSSELL
(exiting)
Well tell your friend Miss Penny Lane
to Call Me. Tell her "It ain't
California without her. We want her
around like last summer." Say it
like that.
WILLIAM
Got it.
RUSSELL
(returns, whispers)
Oh, I'm under the name - Harry Houdini.
JEFF
(exiting, to William)
The Enemy!! Yeah!! Come to L.A.,
we'll take some more.
Russell joins Jeff, exiting and laughing. A good show is still
in the air.
WILLIAM
Later Jeff! See you, Dick. Larry.
Ed.
(and now the roadies)
Mick, Gregg, Red Dog, Scully, Frosty,
Estrella, The Wheel!
ROADIES DICK
Laterrrr! We'll see you down the
line.
William is deliriously happy, hands upraised. He turns to see
Penny.
WILLIAM
PENNY!
PENNY
(calming him)
Hey. Hey. Be cool.
WILLIAM
You just missed Russell! He says he's
at the "Riot House" all week and to call
him. He's under the name Harry Houdini.
Do you know about the "Riot House?"
PENNY LANE
I think I've heard of it.
WILLIAM
He had a message for you! He said,
"It's not California without you. We
want you around like last summer."
(consults notebook)
Actually he said "ain't." "It ain't
California - "
PENNY LANE
I get the gist.
WILLIAM
How well do you guys know each other?
She smiles privately.
WILLIAM (cont'd)
I got it. No problem. Long story.
Alright! I gotta go.
Elsewhere in the arena, Black Sabbath is performing "Sweet
Leaf." The kid could care less. He has bonded with Stillwater.
He heads for the door. Penny walks with him. He's loving it.
They pass a still-scowling Scotty, flashing passes, as they
exit out into the ramp area.
32 EXT. SPORTS ARENA -- NIGHT 32
Penny takes out an eyeliner pencil, writes her number on the
back of his green notebook.
PENNY LANE
Call me if you need a rescue. We live
in the same city.
WILLIAM
I think I live in a different world.
They stand in the night air. The parking lot is largely silent
now, save for the thudding bass sounds of Black Sabbath. In
the distance, we hear Elaine's insistent whistle.
PENNY
Speaking of the world. I've made a
decision.
(a very serious secret)
I'm going to live in Morocco for one
year. I need a new crowd.
He nods. He is a rapt audience for this flashy girl.
PENNY (cont'd)
Do you want to come?
WILLIAM
Yes.
In the distance, we hear the family whistle growing louder.
PENNY
It's a plan. You've got to call me.
WILLIAM
Okay.
PENNY
It's all happening.
WILLIAM
It's all happening.
He nods cooly. He waits until she turns, and the sprints
through the parking lot, to the distant family whistle.
FADE OUT:
FADE IN:
33 ON TAPE RECORDER 33
William's fingers work the clunky keys, pressing rewind. We
hear a snippet of the intense and lively Stillwater interview,
full of overlapping and barely discernible voices.
Meticulously, he untangles the voices, especially Russell's,
as he transcribes.
INT. WILLIAM'S BEDROOM - DAY
The work of a journalist, as William sits at his Smith-Corona
Galaxis. There is a knock at the window, and William scoots
back in his chair to see a familiar face. It is Darryl, his
sister's old boyfriend. William opens the window.
WILLIAM
Hey Darryl.
DARRYL
Hey.
Darryl climbs in the window, looks around the room that was
once the site of his previous glory.
DARRYL (cont'd)
So she's a stewardess now.
WILLIAM
Yeah. She and Mom are still sorta...
I'd say "not speaking," but I don't
know if they ever did.
DARRYL
Your sister. A stewardess.
(nods to himself)
The things your sister and I did inside
these four walls...
WILLIAM
That's okay. I don't want to know.
It's my room now.
DARRYL
We flew the friendly skies -
WILLIAM
Okay -
DARRYL
I don't want to put you in the middle
of anything. We don't have to talk
about it.
WILLIAM
No.
DARRYL
You seem cooler.
WILLIAM
Yeah. I'm thinking about going to
Morocco.
DARRYL
Lemme know if you need a little help
with your Mom.
WILLIAM
A little might not be enough.
DARRYL
She still freaks me out.
WILLIAM
(nods, an old issue)
Yeah -
DARRYL
She's famous.
WILLIAM
Listen -
DARRYL
Go ahead and do what you were doing.
I just wanna hang in here for a moment.
WILLIAM
Cool. Alright.
William nods and continues his work, self-consciously, as Darryl
sits on his bed and soaks in the memories of the room. A long
moment passes. Darryl pats his thighs, and rises.
DARRYL
Okay, man.
WILLIAM
Okay, man.
34 INT. LIVING ROOM -- EVENING 34
William slips on corduroy jacket, over a tie-dyed shirt. Well,
it's definitely a look. Mom appears more nervous than her
son.
ELAINE
I worry about the drunk drivers.
WILLIAM
Mom. I'm 15.
(beat, vague panic)
Right?
ELAINE
Yes, you're 15. "And here's that money
I owed you."
She reaches in a small box near the door, gives him twenty
bucks. It's their routine.
ELAINE (cont'd)
Your dad's favorite joke. I don't do
it as well.
WILLIAM
I thought it was pretty good.
ELAINE
Keep the small bills on the outside.
And call me if anyone gets drunk.
WILLIAM
I will call you if anyone
anywhere gets drunk.
ELAINE
Good.
WILLIAM
(anticipating her, like a
parent)
And don't take drugs.
ELAINE
(stoic)
Ha ha. Very funny. See -- sense of
humor. Have fun at the dance. I'm
glad you're making friends.
They move to the door, and he steadies her, as if to remind
her she's not going. He opens the door. She's a wreck, and
she knows it.
WILLIAM
Mom?
ELAINE
Yeah -
WILLIAM
(loving but firm, as if to
a dog.)
Stay.
ELAINE
Oh... okay.
WILLIAM
I-love-you-bye.
He opens the door. Neil Young. "Sugar Mountain." Watching
him leave is always a killer. She's not getting any better at
it either. She folds her arms tightly across her chest.
35 EXT. WILLIAM'S HOUSE -- NIGHT 35
Penny waist by her car, down the hill, sporting a different
more elegant look. She cups her hands and yells up to him.
He hikes down the hill, squishing down the water plants, almost
falling, the first time we've seen him happy in his own skin.
36 EXT. SUNSET BOULEVARD -- LATER NIGHT 36
Miss Penny Lane's yellow Vega makes the big swing onto Sunset
Boulevard. She sings along to the obscure words of Led
Zeppelin's "Dancing Days." William takes it all in from the
passenger seat. Huge billboards advertise not cigarettes or
beer, but albums. It's a wondrous piece of geography for any
rock fan. Shot moves in as William, watches, takes it all in.
He moves his head outside the window to see fully. Her
windshield is cracked along the side.
PENNY LANE
The Continental Hyatt House. Also known
as The Riot House.
(does tour guide voice)
Every band stays here, all the ones
that matter. The Who. Zeppelin.
Alice. Bowie. English bands. American
bands. We all know each other. Twenty-
four hour room service. Like us, they
were outsiders. They were so outside,
they're inside, and insiders never
even knew it, because they're outsiders
and they are inside a place outsiders
will never be. And why are we even
talking about it? If you're really an
insider, you're never gonna say it.
You know what I mean?
WILLIAM
(beat, working it out)
Yeah. Yes.
She makes a swift turn into a secret parking spot near the
hotel.
PENNY
And we're not gonna hang out with
Russell. You can, but not me.
WILLIAM
What is it with you and Russell?
37 EXT. SUNSET BOULEVARD -- NIGHT 37
Neil Young and Crazy Horse's "Cinnamon Girl" ricochets across
the Strip. It's blasting from cars tuned into KMET. Penny
now wears her green faux-fur trimmed coat. She grabs William's
hand, steadying her hat at the same time. They dart across
the busy street. She stumbles a little on her platforms. He
steadies his taller date. They are a good team as they pass
one of several humming tour busses parked out front.
38 INT. HYATT HOUSE LOBBY -- NIGHT 38
Penny blasts into the Continental Hyatt House, William on her
arm. The lobby of this bastion of seventies rock is more alive
than most clubs. It's a swirling mass of Roadies carrying
Halliburton briefcases plastered with tour stickers, mingling
Rockers, and more than a few Groupies with lower-ambitions and
taller-platforms than Penny Lane. The feeling is communal,
illicit, intoxicating. The secret community of rock. Penny
attracts a hailstorm of friends and comrades.
PENNY LANE
It's all happening.
(grabbing him like a shield)
And I'm about to use you as protection.
ROADIE # 1
Penny Lane!!
PENNY LANE
(aside)
These guys are with Alice Cooper. I'm
going to pretend I don't know them.
ENGLISH ROADIE # 2
Penny!! Does Alice know you're here?
PENNY LANE
I'm just showing my very dear, very
wonderful friend around. He's a very
important writer - he knows Lester
Bangs.
(English accent)
I'm responsible for his moral conduct
while he's abroad.
ROADIE # 3
(arriving, mock drama)
Penny Lane!! God's gift to rock and
roll!!
PENNY LANE
I'm retired.
(uses English accent)
And don't argue with me!
ROADIE # 3
Again?
PENNY LANE
(moving, English accent)
Have we met?
Effortlessly touching an arm here and there, charming all -
she had four men suddenly circling her.
PENNY LANE (cont'd)
I've made a decision. I'm going to go
traveling in India. Then I'm going to
learn how to play the violin. Then
I'm going to go to college for one
year.
William looks at her, perplexed and a little hurt. What about
Morocco?
ROADIE # 2
(exiting, not buying it)
There's nothing they could teach you
in college, darling.
(whispers)
Call Alice. He's under the name Bob
Hope.
ROADIE # 1
I heard you were with Russell from
Stillwater.
PENNY
Please. I throw the little ones back.
Lusty laughs circle William. Overlapping this dialogue is the
appearance of our friend Polexia.
POLEXIA
(in tears, in pieces,
emotional)
Ian Hunter is a fucking asshole!
WILLIAM
Polexia!
POLEXIA
Opie!!!
She hugs him like a long-lost friend, knocking the air out of
him. And now overlapping this action, appears Superfan RIC
NUNEZ, 14. His eyes are forever moist, but he's oddly formal
and never feels worthy of the rockers he idolizes. Tonight he
wears a custom homemade t-shirt with iron-on block letters.
It features the four Led Zeppelin symbols and the words: "TO
BE A ROCK AND NOT TO ROLL." A felt-tip pen is still in his
quivering hand. Nunez walks with them, backpedaling as he says:
RIC
It's all happening. I just saw them
on the seventh floor! Mr. Jimmy Page...
Mr. John Paul Jones...
(displays squiggle on shirt)
Mr. Robert Plant signed my shirt in
the elevator!! Five minutes ago, he
touched this pen. Please don't smear
it. And Bonzo's gotta new motorcycle
in the hotel!
PENNY
Ric is a Zeppelin fan.
WILLIAM
Yeah, I picked that up.
PENNY
He tours with them, but not "with"
them.
RIC
They're on the 12th floor, but there's
guards there! So you gotta go to the
tenth floor and go up the back steps.
PENNY LANE
This is my very dear, very close, very
wonderful friend William Miller, he is
very close with Lester Bangs.
RIC
It's all happening!! See you in
Cleveland!
Ric rushes back to the elevators.
PENNY LANE
I'm retired! Doesn't anybody believe
me!?
39 INT. HYATT HOUSE LOBBY PHONE -- NIGHT -- MINUTES LATER 39
Penny nearby as William picks up the house phone. He shouts
over the din.
WILLIAM
Harry Houdini, please.
As he waits, he discreetly pockets the matches, hotel pad and
pencil next to the housephone.
40 INT. HALLWAY/RUSSELL'S HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT 40
William, Polexia and an ambivalent Penny walk the hallway,
looking for the room. William looks in the passing open doors,
each one a different window into another world.
PENNY LANE
Okay. Time to put on the lampshade.
Up ahead, the door to their smallish hotel room is open.
Inside, a band party in full swing. A clunky early-model boom
box segues from James Brown's "Make It Funky" to Led Zeppelin's
"Gallows Pole." Russell Hammond is the center of this party,
jabbing out the chords, playing along on guitar. Much singing
echoes all around. It's a hotel-room Hootenanny, and all
members of the band are present. Penny Lane takes a breath
and enters, with arms extended and pointing in opposite
directions. She does a flawless stewardess imitation, with
proper hand gestures, to a loud party ovation.
PENNY LANE (cont'd)
"Ladies and Gentlemen. Please
extinguish all smoking materials and
notice that the captain has turned on
The No Smoking sign. Your seat and
tray tables should be locked in their
full and upright positions."
RUSSELL/OTHERS
PENNY!! PENNY LANE!!
She is instantly and overwhelmingly, the life of this party.
Russell joins William.
RUSSELL
(impressed to see him)
Alright.
WILLIAM
(happy to be there)
Alright.
Russell places a beer in William's hands, and exits.
PENNY LANE
(continuing)
"In the unlikely event of a water
landing, the seat below you will serve
as a -"
(give up)
Oh, the hell with it.
They all applaud her, laughing. William watches her with
wonder, as she turns his way and winks. Jeff approaches the
alluring Polexia, and goes to get her a beer. Meanwhile,
Polexia sidles up to William. She sees him watching Penny at
the other side of the room.
POLEXIA
(privately)
Act One, in which she pretends she
doesn't care about him.
POV shot travels to Russell, strumming the guitar that is always
a part of his body. Russell is watching Penny Lane
surreptitiously.
POLEXIA (cont'd)
Act Two, in which he pretends he doesn't
care... and goes right for her.
Russell moves towards Penny.
POLEXIA (cont'd)
Act Three, in which it all plays out
the way she planned it. She'll eat
him alive.
WILLIAM
(worried)
We've got to stop them.
POLEXIA
Stop them? You were her excuse for
coming here.
ON PENNY
PENNY
I need ice!
Penny disappears out the door, across the hallway. Russell
follows a moment later. The kid's eyebrows rise. Polexia
regards the kid with affection, adjusting his collar and peeling
a hair off his jacket.
POLEXIA
I just worry about people using her.
You know? 'Cause she brings out the
good side in everybody else, but what
do they do for her? Life kills me.
Do you have any pot?
WILLIAM
Not on me.
POLEXIA
Do you smoke?
WILLIAM
No.
(attempting to fit in)
But I... I grow it. I grow it.
Polexia looks at the kid, laughing at his poor job of lying.
POLEXIA
You're funny. You know, if you were
only taller, English, rich, a guitar-
player and older...
WILLIAM
I'd be someone else.
POLEXIA
Yeah. Good point.
Jeff appears with her beer, and she whispers in the kid's ear
before she exits with Jeff Bebe.
POLEXIA (cont'd)
Bless me father for I may sin tonight.
The kid watches, as the boom box plays an obscure favorite of
Russell's, Eddie Giles' "Losin' Boy." There is the sound of a
motorcycle somewhere down the hallway.
41 INT. ICE ROOM -- NIGHT 41
The ice machine makes new cubes with a grinding noise. Penny
puts ice in her glass. Behind her, Russell moves into frame,
hands delicately riding the sides of her body. A motorcycle
roars by, just outside the door, as Penny moves away from
Russell's exploring hands.
PENNY
(with real indignation)
How does it end?
RUSSELL
What?
PENNY
You know - the story about the girl
who dumps the guy who has an ex-ex
wife -- the one we don't talk about --
and gets a hundred... okay, five letters
from him, and then doesn't even leave
a pass in San Diego. Wake up! I'm
retired and I never believed you anyway.
You're too talented and too good-looking
to be trusted and everybody knows it.
RUSSELL
(smiling, loves it)
You're retired like Frank Sinatra is
retired.
She makes a scoffing noise. He moves to the ice machine, with
a glass of his own.
RUSSELL (cont'd)
Miss Penny Lane. Let me tell you what
rock and Roll will miss the day you
truly retire.
He tosses cubes in his glass, one by one. After the first cube:
RUSSELL (cont'd)
The way you turn a hotel room into a
home.
(cube)
The way you pick up strays wherever
you go. Like Pied Piper.
(cube)
The way you know the words to every
song. Every song. Especially the bad
ones. Mostly the bad ones.
(cube)
That green coat in the middle of summer.
(cube)
The real name you won't reveal.
(cube)
And. I'd keep going, but my glass if
full.
PENNY
(quietly)
Damn.
He kisses her powerfully, hands at his sides. She fights to
keep her hands off him. Bonham's motorcycle rips by, just
outside the door.
RUSSELL
Come to Arizona.
PENNY
Never.
RUSSELL
We leave Thursday morning. 9 AM. And
pack light this time. Jesus.
They kiss. The motorcycle speeds by again, just outside.
42 INT. HALLWAY -- NIGHT 42
The hallways are crowded, as William looks at the closed door
of the ice room. He leans against the wall, alone now. Trying
to look like he belongs. Behind him, most of the band has
disappeared into other rooms, leaving only hangers-on in their
places.
43 INT. ROLLING STONE MAGAZINE -- DAY 43
Music. We pan across cubicles bustling with laid-back fervor.
These are the San Francisco-based main offices of Rolling Stone
Magazine. We have arrived for the waning days that this
magazine could still be called, with a straight-face, an
"underground" publication. Their mounting success crowds the
edges of every frame. Camera catches the Annie Leibowitz
portraits that hang on the walls -- Lennon, Jagger, Rod Stewart,
James Taylor.
We find editor BEN FONG-TORRES, 29, in his cramped cubicle.
Sitting nearby is curly-haired and mustachioed Star Staff
writer, DAVID FELTON, 32, who smokes his cigarettes with a long
holder. Felton reads one of William's articles, chuckling.
BEN FONG-TORRES
William Miller?
INTERCUT:
INT. WILLIAM'S BEDROOM -- DAY
William is on the phone in his own small room.
WILLIAM
This is he.
BEN
Crazy. William, this is Ben Fong-
Torres. I'm the music editor at Rolling
Stone Magazine. We've got a copy of
your stories from the San Diego Door.
This is the same William Miller?
William instantly, nervously alters his voice to sound older.
WILLIAM
Yes it is.
BEN
(rifling through tearsheets)
Voice of God, howling dogs, the spirit
of rock And roll... this is good solid
stuff.
WILLIAM
(immediately, suddenly
deeper)
Thanks... thanks.
BEN
You should be writing for us. Any
ideas?
WILLIAM
(voice now to deep)
How about Stillwater?
BEN
Crazy. New album... their third...
starting to do something.
Ben shuffles through papers, looking for a tour itinerary on
his promotional-material laden-desk, automatically plotting
the piece aloud.
BEN (cont'd)
(pleasant, terse)
Stillwater. Hard-working band makes
good. Get 'em to respond to the critics
who dismissed the first two albums as
workmanlike. Guitarist is the clear star
of the band. Crazy. Let's do three-
thousand words. You'll catch up to them
on the road. We'll set up billing --
don't let the band pay for anything.
WILLIAM
(affecting casualness)
Sounds good.
BEN
We can only pay -- lemme see, three-
thousand words -- seven hundred dollars.
The kid's eyes widen.
BEN (cont'd)
Alright, a grand. What's your
background? You a journalism major?
WILLIAM
(deeply)
Yes.
BEN
What college --
INT. ELAINE'S HOUSE -- CONTINUOUS
Elaine now gets on the extension.
ELAINE
Honey, I need you to do that thing
that fixes the garbage disposal --
She hangs up.
INT. WILLIAM'S BEDROOM -- CONTINUOUS
The kid is paralyzed.
BEN
Well, I know how my lady gets when I
don't Snap to it -
WILLIAM
Crazy.
BEN
Crazy! I'll let you go. Call me at
the San Francisco office tomorrow.
44 INT. LESTER BANGS HOME -- LATE NIGHT 44
The great Lester Bangs stands in the promotional album-clogged
bedroom of his Birmingham, Michigan, home/office at Creem
Magazine. There is nothing in frame that does not deal with
music. In the background, a scratchy and chaotic Coltrane
record.
LESTER BANGS
Beware Rolling Stone Magazine. They
will change your story, they'll re-
write it and turn it into swill.
Beware!!
WILLIAM
But besides that, what would be wrong
with it?
LESTER BANGS
(laughs, entertained)
You have starry eyes, my friend.
(beat)
Look. Do the story. It's a good break
for ya. But remember this --
The kid listens intently, and makes notes.
LESTER BANGS (cont'd)
... don't do it to make friends with
people who are trying to use you to
further the big business desire to
glorify worthless rock stars like
Stillwater. And don't let those swill
merchants re-write you.
WILLIAM
(still copying)
... swill merchants...
LESTER BANGS
Now. What are you listening to?
45 EXT. TEACHER'S LOUNGE -- DAY 45
William knocks on the teacher's lounge door. A Teacher answers,
protective of their sanctuary.
WILLIAM
(urgently)
I need to talk to Mrs. Deegan, from
Journalism.
Mrs. Deegan appears in the doorway.
46 EXT. WILLIAM'S HOME -- LATE AFTERNOON 46
The sun is still shining. It's late afternoon, as Elaine Miller
exits her car and arrives home. She sees a few extra cars in
the driveway, is immediately suspicious.
47 INT. LIVING ROOM -- LATE AFTERNOON 47
Elaine arrives to find William, Mrs. Deegan and Darryl awaiting
her in the living room. It's a 1973-style intervention. They
wear sunny, compassionate smiles.
ELAINE
Whatever it is, the answer is no.
MRS. DEEGAN
Elaine, we need to talk to you.
Nothing is wrong. I am a teacher.
You're a teacher. We speak the same
language.
Mom sits down. She is fully engaged and worried, her natural
state.
MRS. DEEGAN (cont'd)
Now I'm not a jump-up-and-down person,
but something wondrous has happened to
William. And you have every reason to
be happy...
(knows her)
... and calm.
Carefully gauging Elaine's face, the teacher continues.
MRS. DEEGAN (cont'd)
William has been gifted with a shining
opportunity in the world of journalism.
Through a love of music, and at an
oddly-young age, he has received a major
assignment from a national publication
called Rolling Stone Magazine.
Mrs. Deegan produces a copy, and places it on Elaine's lap.
It sits there like the plague.
MRS. DEEGAN (cont'd)
Now you are rather famously not a fan
of rock music, but such are the ironies
of life, that happens to be the very
topic of William's assignment -
(cheerfully)
- rock music. A band.
ELAINE
(warily, to Darryl)
Honey, what are you doing here?
DARRYL
Moral support.
Mom looks evenly at her son, seated opposite her in this small
living room.
ELAINE
What's involved?
MRS. DEEGAN
Well. It's a great opportunity. He'll
be well-paid, and published nationally --
(quickly)
-- and he'll go on tour with a rock
band for four days. No small planes...
he travels on a bus.
ELAINE
Is it time for me to say something?
MRS. DEEGAN
Sure.
ELAINE
No.
MRS. DEEGAN
And in anticipation of that response -
ELAINE
No.
MRS. DEEGAN
-- William has prepared --
ELAINE
(rueful)
"Lo, that which I have feared has come
upon me."
WILLIAM
(lightening fast)
"He who jealously guards his fears,
quietly yearns to bring them about!"
Mrs. Deegan admires their high-strung intellectual parrying,
makes an impressed noise.
ELAINE
(with compassion)
No. I have raised him to be an honor
student, which he is. We have agreed
on all our goals. We raised him to be
a lawyer, we moved here to be near the
finest law school in the West. Plus,
he has finals coming up, and in one
week he graduates with all his friends
-
DARRYL
He's got no friends!!
WILLIAM
Darryl. Please.
Nearby, having anticipated all of the above, William nods to
Mrs. Deegan, and stands.
MRS. DEEGAN
Elaine, may I present to you... your
own son.
William takes a lawyerly stroll, turns to face his mom.
WILLIAM
Lady of the Jury.
(beat)
I wish to disprove the prevailing false
belief that rock music is based on drugs
and sex. True, perhaps at one time...
but rock music is different now. It is
now performed by hard-working
intellectuals, with... with blazing
intellectual pursuits, and I am going to
pl