Browse through all treatments received from SHOWstudio viewers to be considered for the 24hrs screenplay.
Her mobile phone rings on the opposite side of the room. She slowly opens her eyes that seem stubbornly stuck together and blinks a few times. She drags herself out of the bed, untangling herself from the sheets which she has twisted around her and awkwardly dawdles towards the incessant ringing, a loud and fast paced rock song muffled by the plethora of junk in her bag.
She drops to sit with one leg folded on the floor, drags her tote from the couch and searches through the items within: handkerchief, tissues, a camera, an i-pod, a magazine and a comic, an apple, bottled water, a scarf and some novelty souvenirs she bought for her younger siblings. She pulls these out and carelessly scatters them around her on the carpet. She snaps up the phone just as the ringing ceases, she mutters something obscene under her breath and checks the screen. It is an international call, she couldn't be bothered to ring back.
The girl pulls herself up from the ground, leaving the mess as it is, and stretches as she walks to the mirror. She looks at her reflection, combs back her hair with her hands and leaves them around the back of her neck. Her eyes drift from her reflection onto something distant and unfocused. she contemplates something for a brief moment she looks sad, lost and hurt and she draws in a jagged breath as if about to sigh.
Her thought is interrupted by a knock on the door.
A hotel suite, Paris. We can barely see in the darkness. Through tightly drawn drapes a long, very bright ray of daylight pierces the room. The actress lies face down on the bed, nude under a lace slip. The soles of her feet are dirty. On her wrist a thin diamond bracelet catches the morning light. Sirens. Then the phone rings. She whimpers. Finally she raises her head. A smudge of red lipstick stains her mouth.
[The actress]: (slowly raising the phone to her ear) Hello?
[Concierge]: Good morning mademoiselle. This is your wake up call.
[The actress]: Merci
[Concierge]: (sounding uncomfortable) Mademoiselle?
[The actress]: Yes
[Concierge]: We have your shoes mademoiselle.
[The actress]: What?
[Concierge]: Your shoes. Shall we send them up to your room?
[The actress]: Why do you have my shoes?
[Concierge]: A young gentleman dropped them off at the front desk last night.
She rolls over onto her back.
[The actress]: He did?
[Concierge]: Oui mademoiselle.
Silence. No one says anything. Then she starts.
[The actress]: (Calmly) Well, send them up then. (pauses) Oh, and please send a gallon of milk. You can leave it outside of my door.
[Concierge]: (Very polite) Oui mademoiselle. Is that all?
[The actress]: One more thing. I need something to read, to wake up, I don’t have my books and...
[Concierge]: (Routinely) We have the daily papers. (He begins to list the daily papers in Paris, then moves onto the international editions)
[The actress]: (Sighing) No. (Pauses, then sweetly) Listen, Just bring me some Baudelaire, Okay?
[Concierge]: In French?
[The actress]: Mais Oui.
[Concierge]: Of course mademoiselle.
She hangs up. Now sitting up at the corner of the bed she runs her hands through her hair, thinking. She smiles. Stumbling to her feet, she walks to the bathroom and begins to run a bath. The actress looks at herself in the mirror. Next to the sink on a tray lie a pair of large chandelier earrings and a black satin cigarette case. She puts on a single earring, looks at herself again, and then takes a cigarette out. Placing it between her lips, she lights it, takes two drags, and then puts it out again. In the hall we hear footsteps. After they fade, she walks to the door, grabs the shoes and a leather copy of Fleurs du Mal, and picks up the glass pitcher of milk. Swiftly returning to the bathroom she pours the milk in the tub, drops her slip, and steps into hot bath. She still has one earring on.
The film opens with a MEDIUM CUT on an open window from the inside of a room. It is already light outside and the breeze moves the white, semi-transparent curtains gently. On the curtains the opening title credits are shown. The sounds of morning traffic are carried through from the street beneath, and the ringing of a telephone rhythmically breaks the peaceful atmosphere. The phone rings through the credits, and about nine rings in someone is heard fumbling with the phone and answering it. The camera begins to slowly pan around showing the room. As it slowly passes over the obvious female occupant's few things left scattered about [opened suitcase, clothes on a chair, empty water bottle etc] we hear the conversation on the phone.
MODEL: Hello?
[inaudible]
MODEL: What time is it?
[inaudible]
MODEL: Mmm, right, thanks.
[inaudible]
MODEL: Can you bring the breakfast to my room?
[inaudible]
MODEL: Oh, I don't care, as long as there's no meat.
[inaudible]
MODEL: No, yes... that'll be great.
[inaudible]
CAMERA has now panned fully and has stopped on a shot of the bed. We see the MODEL lying with the covers messily around her, talking on the phone.
MODEL: No that's fine, you can just open it and read it out to me now.
[inaudible]
MODEL: You have the addresses there then?
[inaudible]
MODEL: Ok, just bring it up with breakfast, and can you please arrange a car for the first one?
[inaudible]
MODEL: Great, thank you. I'll be taking a shower now so send the room service up in about a half.
[inaudible]
MODEL: Thank you.
She hangs the phone up, and lies for a few seconds before slowly getting out of bed. She is wearing a nightgown. The CAMERA, having not cut yet, proceeds to follow her back across the room, moving backward across the same path it did before. She picks up a water bottle, and while slowly walking towards the window she takes a drink out of it and then places it back on another piece of furniture in the room. The CAMERA stops at the same spot as it started on, and we see the MODEL opening up the curtains to look outside.
SHOT changes now to show a side CLOSE CUT of her face as she looks out to the streets below, thinking to herself. The breeze playfully plays with her messy hair.
SHOT changes now to show a wider shot of the room with her in the window, back to camera. She is turning around and slowly begins to walk towards the BATHROOM door, camera following her. She turns the light on and steps inside with the door open. We see a reflection of her in the mirror, through the frame of the door, as she removes her nightgown, throws it within the frame of the door and steps out of view.
The SCENE ends with the sound of a shower turning on the and the nightgown laid out on the bathroom floor.
The camera pans over an enormous, luxurious hotel suite. Music is playing softly (something like "Kings of the Wild Frontier" by Adam & The Ants) The camer pans over a large bed with sheets and comforters dissheveled. There are several large, gorgeous couture gowns strewn across the bed, taffetta and silk is everywhere, heels are slung about and black tights with a seam down the back cascade off the side of the bed. There is the slight sound of a splash of water and the camera pans out to a large balcony with double french doors flung open. Light is streaming into the dark hotel room. The balcony is relatively private by virtue of an enormous tree offering shade and greenery, but what is most extraordinary is the presence of a large claw-foot bathtub. One long leg is extending out at the foot of the tub, while an arm dangles out to the side. A gorgeous gamine pops her head up high enough to take a long, langorous drag on her cigarette. The hotel phone, propped on a cushioned stool (taken from inside the bathroom armoire undoubtedly) begins to ring.
"Yes?" the girl answers in a slow, relaxed drawl
"Darling of course I'm up, you know I can't ever get a proper nights rest in these places"
"Well then send them up"
She plops the phone back down and reclines underwater, only her smoking hand remains out of the tub.
EXT. PARIS - MORNING
The Latin Quarter is fairly quiet. Early hours in the twisted streets of this ancient student ghetto, nowadays better known from its vibrant life and cafeterias. Sun is slowly rising over the rooftops and dark corners are casting a mystical spell over a seemingly normal day in the city.
Shadow edges are forming dividing lines. Sunbeams are bringing new life to these sleeping streets, but at same time the dark corners are reminding us about the past. We surely remember glorious days of Café Procope, fragile songs of Édith Piaf and of course Le Smoking Tuxedo, but for some strange reason something pushes us forward. Contradictory feelings fills the mind, but somehow we are addicted to it.
Whole La Rive Gauche, the left bank, is slowly getting up. A few boats are already in the river. Some unclear reflections on small puddles. Sounds mounting around the corner... mild wind, clicking high heels, muffled discussion and more.
CUT TO:
EXT. HOTEL BALCONY SOMEWHERE AT LATIN QUART. - MORNING
Balcony doors are open. Friendly old wind is mildly swinging the halfway closed curtains. Also a lonely flower on the balcony table seems to enjoy the breeze.
VOICE OF ACTRESS/MODEL: There are times when you just feel it. Tenderness & cruelty. Real life & surreal life. Terrifying things & funny things. Enthusiasm & Peacefulness. All during the same round...
CUT TO:
INT. INSIDE OF THE HOTEL ROOM - CONTINUING
The actress/model is laying in empire style of sofa. She seems to be sleeping, although we can’t be sure because her face is out of picture. The Sunbeams are breaking in from partly covered balcony doorway, and it mainly lights the lower part of actress’/models elegantly postured body. She is wearing a black velvet dress, the same one she was apparently wearing at last nights cocktail party. Maybe she was just too tired to go all the way to the bed. Otherwise the room has very minimalist decorating style. Just phone, purse & gloves (latter two are part of the outfit) on the night table next to sofa and shoes on the floor. The walls are covered with light colored but astonishingly figured wallpaper.
VOICE OF ACTRESS/MODEL (continues after a pause): Along the day & night...(slight pause) And it is actually quite peculiar thing that they gave me exactly this room. My lucky number - 24. (The number can be said here or for example next chapter can open with knock on the door & cameras attention point on number on the door or something similar.)
SUDDENLY THE PHONE RANGS (moderately, but still eruptively). Ending the harmony that was built at the beginning.
CUT TO:
A WOMAN’S FACE.
She peacefully opens her eyes & picks up the fone. Her face looks sleepy, but very engaging.
ACTRESS/MODEL: Oui.
(Inaudible answer)
ACTRESS/MODEL: What time he is coming?
(Inaudible answer)
ACTRESS/MODEL: Merci.
(Inaudible answer)
She hung up & smiles mildly (not super happy, more like pleased and maybe just a little bit thrilled).
FADE OUT.
FREDERIC 65, with amicable facial features, calls NATASHA from the Ritz Hotel's Front Desk.
Frederic- Good morning Natasha. It's now 8 o'clock. You've got a big day ahead of you love.
At that very moment Room Service knocks at the door.
Frederic- I ordered your favorite. Now, trot on now.
Natasha, 21, stunning, and elegant; she embodies a timeless beauty, sighs a little while doing a yawn and a stretch. She's had a restful sleep.
Natasha- Thanks Frederic, you're the best.
An unfocused blur of red focuses into red flashing numbers on a digital clock reading 7:00. As the numbers come into focus, so does the sound of a ringing mobile phone. The better the focus, the louder the sound.
The bedside light is turned on, and you can hear the model pick up the phone. You are seeing the room from a first person perspective. You get brief glimpses of her manicured hands, the slip she wore to bed, and her dark long hair as she slips back under white sheets with her mobile phone. There is luggage, clothes and shoes strewn around the room.
[Model]:Hello?
The room phone rings. She just brings it to her hear: "-Allo..." She listens as her face shows some effort to understand and her eyes hardly open, blinking everytimeshe tries to watch the window with the Paris skyline outside.
"-No. I didn't forget, I'll be there on time..." She continues to listen as she watches all arround her,the room is a mess: all her clothes are hanging all arround, her lipstick rouge vibration on the floor, on the table next to the window,a letter she started to write but never ended, her I-pod she didn't switch off the night before and she can still listen it's Gainsbourg playing, a bottle of mineral water, a prefume, her Joseph Kessel book, a lithography she bought yesterday on the rivers of the Seine..
"Ok. I better hurry up so...Ok. See you later."
Rainbows glide across the high ceiling of a large, sparsely furnished hotel room. Early sunlight shines through raindrops and lace curtains at the window, patterning the walls with shifting shadows. A young woman sleeps in the arms of her lover in an ornate antique bed. Yesterday’s clothes are casually but not carelessly draped across the foot of the bed and over the single chair at the bed’s side. A rainbow travels across her cheek which dimples in a smile.
She is woken by a scratching at the window. The lace curtains billow slightly to reveal a diamond ring, the source of the rainbows, suspended by a chain from the window catch. A pigeon is tapping at the glass as if to catch the diamond.
The young woman leaves her bed, picking up her lover’s dinner jacket from the end of the chair and pulling it on as she walks towards the window. She pushes open the casement and the curtains billow around her. The pigeon files into the room in a flurry of beating wings. She catches the diamond ring which falls from the window catch and whirls around to watch the bird flying around the room. Her lover is woken by the commotion and laughs as he ducks to avoid the panicking bird. He jumps up, pulling on his shirt, to help her herd the pigeon out of the room through the open window. At last the pigeon flies free and the pair lean out of the window together to see it fly off over the rooftops of Paris. Below them the street is wet. They watch a woman with an umbrella pause at a wrought iron lamp post to allow her scottie dog to relieve itself. The woman teeters on her high heels as the dog is distracted by the smell of breakfast coming out of the café opposite. The dog barks, sending a flock of startled pigeons up into the sky. The couple at the window enjoy the scene, then the young woman looks down at the diamond ring in her hand, leans her head on her lover’s shoulder and murmurs.
‘I wish this could all last just one more day.’
An inconstant ringing echoes loudly throughout the hotel room, which is just enough to stir the sleeping model into alertness. She fumbles for the hotel phone and yawns briefly before picking up the phone. A few messages are relayed back to her, something or another about room service coming. She just nods and replies that she understands and then hangs up the phone.
As the model moves from her bed to the bathroom, she tries to avoid the items scattered around the floor in complete disarray. Some cigarettes, champagne glasses, and lipstick tubes stand in the way of the sink. With no effort whatsoever she just casually sweeps them away from her.
Inside the bathroom she peels off her clothes and changes into a black chiffon dress and a safari jacket. Making her way back to bedroom, the model gathers the stray objects off the floor and organizes her luggage. Then she takes a cigarette out of her leather tote and proceeds to smoke. This is just another day for her; another day of waiting.
A lingering shot of the room in silence. Jill lies asleep in the bed.
The phone rings. Her body is still.
It rings again.
She reaches for the receiver. She answers it with a rasp.
[JILL] Yes?
[PHONE] Good morning miss. I’m calling to remind you of your fitting, at 10 O’clock?
[JILL] Thank you.
[PHONE] My pleasure.
She sets the receiver down and presses her fingers against the sleeping mask. She yawns and then nods off.
INT: Morning - Hotel Room - London
Our model/Actress Sabrina is asleep in bed. The room is beautifully decorated in a modern contemporary style. The morning light through the curtains dimly shines on her face. Her mobile / Blackberry alerts her to a message. She slowly awakens by the noise and opens her eyes. She picks up the mobile / Blackberry from the bedside table and squints to read the message.
Camera captures the message text: Good morning, are you ready for your big day? Have a look outside the door. X
Sabrina looks puzzled. She stands, elegantly puts on the silk robe lying at the bottom of her bed and walks towards the door. She opens it.
There is a cart with a platter of luscious, ripe fruit with a white envelope on top. Next to the platter is a single champagne flute filled with champagne. Sabrina looks left and right down the corridor but cannot see anyone. She wheels the cart in closing the door behind her. She takes a bite of strawberry and takes a closer look at the champagne. She smiles with curiosity as she takes a seat and opens the envelope. She unfolds a note.
Camera captures the note’s text: I could have left you a dozen roses but champagne seems more appropriate. Enjoy X
Sabrina smiles, takes a sip of champagne and leans back in her chair wondering who sent the room service.
Between the noble profiles of two black Rhodesian Ridgebacks, we catch our first glimpse of your model’s feet. Her toes toy with the tousled sheets of her rented bed. The dogs are still and face only the camera. We watch as a third foot becomes visible under the sheets, then kicks them away and touches the ankles of your model, who responds, slightly. We catch glimpses of bored, clumsy fondling – the aftermath of a night of sleeplessness.
The camera is still, but the space its frame encompasses is as deep as the bed. By the time the call comes, it has refocused many times, lingered on other bits of the model’s body above her calves – her lingerie, the ashtray on her lover’s stomach, the idle way in which he plays with the dog’s tail and a plate of sliced melons on the bedside table.
We hear a ring, to which neither party responds whatsoever. Another man’s voice answers the phone and engages in brief conversation. His hand holding the phone, his suited shoulder, his speaking lips enter the frame. He hangs up, considers the scene on the bed for a moment, then dials room service.
The room phone rings. She just brings it to her hear: "-Allo..." She listens as her face shows some effort to understand and her eyes hardly open, blinking everytimeshe tries to watch the window with the Paris skyline outside.
"-No. I didn't forget, I'll be there on time..." She continues to listen as she watches all arround her,the room is a mess: all her clothes are hanging all arround, her lipstick rouge vibration on the floor, on the table next to the window,a letter she started to write but never ended, her I-pod she didn't switch off the night before and she can still listen it's Gainsbourg playing, a bottle of mineral water, a prefume, her Joseph Kessel book, a lithography she bought yesterday on the rivers of the Seine..
"Ok. I better hurry up so...Ok. See you later."
Marseille-Old Port, Le Vieux Porte. Breeze through the open window fluttering a black slip then the phone rings. TV plays an episode of the series 24. The phone rings a few extra times as the alarm clock erupts with a loud buzz and flashes amber 7:00 then 24:00 back to 7:00 then 24.
A girl is lying asleep in an enormous bed. Just behind her, slightly out of focus we see a door open and close with a loud click - simultaneously her eyes open wide. She flings her arm across the bed to find it empty.
'Stephane!?'
She calls
"Stephane where are you going?'
She pulls back the covers. She's wearing very little, just underpants and no top. She jumps out of bed and pulls open the heavy door, leaning into the hallway, putting her arm across her to cover her bare breasts.
Stephane! Stephane!!! She calls.
We see someone disappear behind a corner. As she steps out to call his name again, the heavy door shuts behind her.
'Oh nooo!' she shouts
She is practically naked in the hallway of an opulent paris hotel. She starts laughing hysterically at herself. But then as she hears her phone ringing behind the closed door, a look of panic sets in as she cannot open the door!
'No no!' she half laughs half cries.
Then her mobile phone starts. Then the message alert beeps.
She sinks to the floor, wondering what to do...
Just then we hear a ding, as the elevator doors open and an young porter wheeling a room service trolley comes her way.... She breathes a sigh of relief...
There's a knock at the door, which goes unanswered for several minutes. LK Today plays loudly from the television in the bedroom and a shower can be heard in the bathroom. The're another knock at the door.
Room Service: "Hello, Miss (actress's name), you ordered room service?"
The actress emerges from the bathroom, wearing a long silk kaftan.
Actress: "Sorry, I'll be with you in a minute"
The actress switches off the television and opens the window. She reaches for her handbag before opening the door.
Actress: "Oh, thank you very much".
Roomservice wheels in a breakfast table and positions it under the window.
Roomservice: "You also have some mail".
He places a handwritten letter and a FEDEX parcel on the table, before producing the check for her to sign. She signs it and hands it back to him, fishing her wallet out of the bag and handing him a handful of pound coins.
Actress: "I'm sorry, I haven't much change!"
Roomservice: "Thank you very much, Miss (actress's name)
He takes a good look around the room before exiting. She switches on Radio Four before sitting down at the window to begin her breakfast. She opens up the FEDEX parcel, half empties its contents onto the table and then drops it on the floor in surprise.
The actress walks into the living room of the suite in a pristine white terry robe, hair wet and brushed off her face. She walks over to inspect the breakfast laid out by the hotel’s room service. One by one she lifts the silver covers. A stack of wholegrain toast. A platter of fruit. A tray of croissants and pastries. She takes a swig of orange juice and sets it back down on the table. Returning swiftly to the bathroom she picks up a gold tube of YSL red lipstick off the countertop and expertly applies a thick layer of crimson.
Hotel room stuffed to the brim with clothes and people. Model's stomach growls loudly. Knock on door--thankfully it's room service.
[Maid]: Where--
[Model]: Food! I'm ravenous!
[Fitter]: (pins in mouth) Stand still please
[Fitter's Assistant #1]: Coffee! Just enough to color it, please.
[Model]: Black, please.
[Model's agent]: [Model's name] No coffee for you. You tend to spill it on yourself
[Model]: At least something to eat.
Model peers longingly at food before her head is enveloped in the gown being forced over her head.
[Model's agent]: Here (Agent obliges by pushing a slice of apple into model's mouth)
[Maid]: Where do I put it? (clutches edge of cart, looks petrified by the clutter)
At once:
[Model]: Right here (motions beside her)
[Fitter]: Leave it by the door
[Agent]: Did you remember the steamed cauliflower? [Designer] must have cauliflower!
There is a loud knock at the door. It goes ignored, the music continues to play. Another loud knock. The gamine raises her head, barely hearing the knock across the room over the music and rustling of the leaves above her.
"Come in!" she yells out
[another loud knock on the door]
"Come IN!" she yells even louder
[the door opens, an immaculately dressed butler-type man enters with white gloves, pushing a breakfast cart. A silver carafe and several covered silver silver dishes gleam on the cart]
"Gilles!' the gamine squeals, a large smile spreading across her face.
"Mais comment savez vous que je suis ici!" she asks, emitting a grin that lights up the face of Gilles.
"Mademoiselle, forgive my intrusion, but when I heard one of our new boys discussing a peculiar request to have the bath placed outside on the terrace, I knew to expect a visit from none other than you. Upon this information I had to deliver your breakfast myself."
"Gilles darling you are so kind. I feel awful for not ringing you up myself to pay my regards but I only checked in late last night and am trying to keep my visit out of the papers you know. Just here for a quick shoot and it is so trying when I'm followed every which way!"
"Perfectly understood ma cherie. I am only too happy to see you now. I understand a car will be here for you in half an hour so I leave you to your breakfast"
[Gilles leaves the cart next to the bed, not wanting to come too close to our bathing gamine. He bows and ducks out of the room]
Natasha, wearing a robe, answers the door. The Room Service boy is unexpectedly attractive but young. He gives her the rolling tray, unveiling, strawberries with cream, and a pot of Chamomile tea. She thanks the boy, and he leaves.
Model is seated in a formal armchair. She is only dressed in underwear but is impeccably groomed. The curtains have been drawn a part and morning light falls into the room. The television is on.
Knock at the door.
[Room Service]: Room service.
[Model]: Come in.
Room Service enters. He's young and baby-faced and wheeling in a breakfast cart. Dressed in a starched, formal uniform to contrast her semi-nakedness. He's trying to stare at her and she is aware of his self-conciousness.
Model gets up and moves toward the tray. She sees that on the tray there's a calling card with her name written on it. She picks this card up, knowing who it's from.
Room Service starts to walk away.
[Model]: Wait.
Model goes to her purse and extracts money. She walks up the Room Service, stands real close, and places money in his hand.
[Model]: Don't forget your tip.
INT. INSIDE OF THE HOTEL ROOM - MORNING (09:00)
The actress/model is laying on empire style of sofa. Otherwise the room has very minimalist decorating style. Just phone, purse & some magazines on the night table next to sofa. She’s wearing black leggings, some edgy top type of thing & turban made of towel (it appers that she’s just gotten out of a bath). It’s looking like she’s just dreaming and raising her legs towards sky, almost like slowly trampling imaginary bicycle. (The view angle can change during the monolog between different types, like general angle & details etc.)
VOICE OF MODEL: Last night was too hilarious. I will never forget what went on that premier. And where does those french bodybuilders came from? (pause) She shouldn’t have shown it to them though? But, who’s fault it really is? (another pause) Yes, I’m quite positive that she did it. Or did I just had an hyperactive imagination again? Should I call her and ask about it? I don’t think I have to. What ever the case might be I still love her... but what will Stefano say when he hears about it? Maybe nothing, coz you got to give it to her, she’s was so edgy in that dress. But as a friend, you can’t...
There’s a gentle knocking on a door. The model is too deep on her thoughts to hear it, but it’s loud enough to distract us to hear the end of the sentence.
VOICE OF MODEL (CONTINUES): ...that’s have to be the end of that story. Fashion is too beautiful to be waisted on little dirty details like that...
At same the same moment we hear another knock-knock, but this time much more louder. We see the knocking on the door, but just a fist and the room number (24).
MAN’S VOICE: Miss (name), are you there?
Now the girl hears the knocking too. Looks to the door and says...
MODEL: Yes. Who is it?
View comes back to the outside of the room and the man is identified as a butler.
MAN: This is roomservice bringing a little amuse bouche for the young lady.
We can hear - fairy type of - quick & light steps from the room which are coming towards the door. The door opens and we can see our main girl standing there with brite smile & simple but chic outfit. The butler walks in with his trolley...
Light knocks are tapped against the solid oak of the hotel door and the model rises from the plush chair she is sitting on to answer the door.
[Hotel Staff]: Good morning, I think someone called me for a quick cleaning?
[Model]: Yes I called last night. As you can see, I need this place to look somewhat presentable. (She laughs softly)
[Hotel Staff]: No worries Madame, I will get right to it. (She gives a friendly smile to her and begins her work)
While the pillows are fluffed and the sink wiped clean with ammonia, the model can’t help but listen to her erratically beating heart in the silence of the room. Possibly the most important fitting of her life is to occur in an hour and all she can do is wait for it. Another cigarette is procured from her bag and the model brings it to her lips. She just needs anything to release her raw nerves and anxieties.
A knock at the door. She turns off the shower and runs to open the door, she doesn't find anything else to put on than a coat she finds on a chair. She opens the door and a young guy from the room service becomes all red as he's looking down the floor after seeing her all wet , wearing just this large unbuttoned trois quarts coat. He says: "-Excuse me Madame,i didn't think you were going to open the door, I could have let the trolley in front of your door..."
She finds his shyness so cute, she bursts out laughing as if the young guy had made a funny joke and says to him: " It's OK, "Monsieur",don't worry i thought it was for the interview!"
She turns back ,takes a belt she finds and fasten the coat as she walks to her bed to search for some towel to dry her hair and asks him: "-You want some croissant?"
The young guy smiles, her spontaneity changes from all the manners the usual clients have in this hotel and answers feeling confortable now: "-Madame, it would be a pleasure but I'm not allowed to share breakfast with hotel customers."
She looks at herself close to the mirror as she puts on her red lipstick she just took from the floor, and answers:"-Rules,rules,rules...as you want,see you later then!"
The young guy smiles again, watches her one more time before closing the door, she stills watching her reflection throw the mirror.
Our model/Actress Sabrina walks out of the hotel bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body. She is drying her hair when she hears a knock at the door. Sabrina opens it. Her Assistant Roberto enters. They hug each other. Roberto tries to hurry Sabrina to get dressed as he rushes around the room tidying up. Sabrina is confused, and asks him what he’s doing there and what are they in a hurry for. Roberto explains that she has a flight to catch this afternoon. Sabrina tells him that her flight is at eight tonight.
Roberto stands beside the bed and points to the phone. The telephone has a white, flashing light, blinking intermittently. ‘You haven’t check your messages have you?’ he asks. Sabrina looks at the telephone. ‘I just came straight in, had an hour in the Jacuzzi and went to bed,’ she replies.
Roberto excitedly walks towards Sabrina. ‘Darling, you are off to Milan this afternoon, I got the call last night. They want you, my dear to model the new collection for a magazine spread.’ Sabrina’s mouth opens in shock. She sweeps her long hair back and hugs Roberto. ‘It’s all set, I cancelled your dinner engagement tonight and told the magazine that you would be in Milan late this afternoon.’
Sabrina gives Roberto a large smile. ‘Now come on, get ready, you have a fitting in one hour and press interviews downstairs at noon. You are the hot off the press news today so lets make sure you to look as beautiful as ever. Now lets get a move on.’ Roberto orders.
Sabrina excitedly hugs Roberto.
Jill hears a loud KNOCK on the door.
[MALE VOICE] Room service!
She perks up in the bed, then yanks off the mask.
[NARRATOR] Jill had not ordered for room service that day.
He knocks again.
[MALE VOICE] Open up!
She carefully approaches the door... she opens it.
A man stands at the doorway with a trolley full of grapes, apples and oranges... a splendid breakfast and a bottle of “YVRESS” brand champagne next to a box of cigarettes.
[MATHIEU] Hello Jill. (with french accent)
[NARRATOR] It was her lover, Mathieu.
[JILL] What are you doing here? (smiling)
He lets himself in. She dodges his trolley.
[MATHIEU] I could not wait to see you...
She picks up a pair of heels from the floor.
[MATHIEU] Didn’t you miss me?
She stops in her tracks and turns to him.
[JILL]...Of course, my love... but... I have a fitting. I don’t think we'll have any time to--
Matthew sulks. He gestures to the cart like “look what I did for you”.
[JILL] I’m sorry.
They stare at each other. He storms out the door.
She turns away and rubs her eye.
The man who called for room service answers the door. The Ridgebacks follow him. A man wheels a cart into the room. Whispers are heard from the bed and then a man’s voice comes from off-screen on the bed, directing the situation with the cart. The suited man and the hotel employee listen, but when the voice has finished its directive, the hotel employee looks at the suited man. The suited man tips the employee and indicates that he can leave. Once the door has shut, the suited man seats himself in a comfortable chair just next to the cart and pours himself a cup of coffee. His gaze remains fixed on the bed, from which issues protests and cries of selfishness. He feeds the dogs croissants.
A knock on room number 24 door and room service enters and exits leaving a silver tray with breakfast food.
Scene: The hallway outside the hotel room. Our model sits semi-naked on the carpet, locked out of her room.
The porter smiles at the model as he wheels the trolley towards her. His smile implies that he's seen it all before, perhaps not quite as beautiful as her, but she regains her confidence and remembers she is a model. Covering her breasts, she stands and strikes a pose.
-model (laughing)
ThankYOU SO MUCH! Perfect timing!
-porter (the epitome of discretion)
Mademoiselle, good morning.
The porter takes a keyring from his pocket and opens the door. The model runs into the room, throws on a robe and grabs her phone. She listens to her voicemail as she mouths THANK YOU to the Porter and hands him a generous tip.
Mobile phone to ear, she lifts silver lids from steaming platters to examine the food. It's all very 'French' indiscernible and slightly gooey meaty visceral looking stuff.
She uncovers a platter of strawberries and shoves a few in her mouth. There is no tea or coffee, just champagne. She takes a sip 'Ugh!' too early for that.
She goes to the bathroom, tips the champagne down the sink and fills the flute with tap water. She drinks thirstily as she looks at herself in the mirror.
Inside the actress’ hotel room a woman in a white jacket is attending to a chrome rack of evening dresses. She is holding a steamer and smoothing the front of a sheer gown. Not far away the assistant to the designer is sitting in an upholstered chair. His expression is blank. We see a sudden and striking metamorphoses of his features; the actress has entered the room.
She hugs him and smoothes his hair before running up to the rack of clothes. Excited, she quickly removes her silk dressing gown. A look of confusion, followed by amusement on the face of the assistant. The seamstress in white looks at him nervously.
[Assistant]: Darling
[Actress]: Yes love.
[Assistant]: I thought you were quite done with Jack.
[Actress]: Right. I am. Haven’t I told you?
He leads her to the full length mirror and turns her around. We see her look at her reflected look of shock. At the small of her back, written in smudged black permanent marker right above her briefs: Love. Forever. J.
[Assistant]: Not quite forever but quite lasting enough.
She strains her neck to look over her shoulder at the small of her back.
[Actress]: Shit. Give me a minute more will you?
She runs back to the bathroom. We hear water running. The she yells back to the assistant.
[Actress]: In the meantime darling, get that long black one ready for me. It’s gorge. I like it for tonight.
[The scene opens in an atelier where gorgeous gowns in various states of completion adorn mannequins. Assistants busle about, some on the phone, some fetching coffee. Designer Stefano Pilato chats animatedly with several seamstresses when the door bursts open.]
"Bon Matin a tout le monde bon matin!" [Our gamine swathes into the room smiling brightly and greeting as many of the seamstresses and assistants as possible]
"Stefano, Stefano I have missed you! What are we in for today?" [She gives him two kisses before looking at one of the dresses on a mannequin]
"Oh but this is fabulous, completely and utterly amazing. I love it! Though I couldn't wear it like this you know. I would need a natty leather jacket or something to bring it down. Toughen it up a bit. Oh but this is just extraordinary."
"I knew you would like this one. It is perfect for the party non?
"To die for" [she flings off her rugged coat, long cashmere scarf and bright tunic to reveal a black dancers unitard arms over head three seamstresses lift the dress over her head and begin pinning and pulling in all directions]
INT. HOTEL BEDROOM ROOM - MORNING (10:00)
(This peaces background music for the selecting process: Kinks - All day and all of the night). Little intense but chic...
Our beloved model is standing in front of the mirror. She is wearing only her fabulous panties, but there is first outfit option on a hanger in her hand. She ‘trying’ it on (keeping it front of her), so nothing too critical is not revealed. Couple meters behind her is light movable fitting ‘wall’ (the same type that they used mostly in old movies; to go change clothes behind it). The wall is nicely covered with different kind of outfits which mr. Pilati has send to her. The whole sequence is more about action and looking on details, rather than monologue. Even though described the way below.
Model seems to be liking the first outfit. She’s measuring it every possible angle.
MODEL: Oui.
She walks back to the wall and change the hangar on her hand. Walks back to the mirror and strikes a pose with second outfit.
MODEL: Oui. Oui. Oui. Stefano you are making my life so difficult...
Second is obviously pleasing her also. Then it’s time for third outfit. She does it with same style as before, but just different poses and expressions.
MODEL: Disco.
She immediately notices that this is THE outfit to put on now. Goes behind the ‘wall’ and puts it on.
She grabs her bag and leaves the room. She’s gotta run, the time is money...
The Yves Saint Laurent crew arrives sharply on time at exactly 10 o’clock in the morning. A lanky brunette fashion assistant hastily brings in racks of clothing into the room, and another assistant is carting in piles of accessories and shoes. A third male assistant occupies himself with loading a Polaroid camera with fresh film.
Finally, all three assistants turn their attention to the somewhat bedraggled model watching the scene fold out in front of her. The brunette assistant hurriedly pulls a garment bag off the rack and unzips it to reveal a tunic and trench coat ensemble. Matching the assistant with equal speed, the model takes off her clothes and changes into the ensemble.
Snap. Click. A Polaroid captures the moment and everyone moves on to the next outfit. More pieces are pulled from the rack and few words pass between the assistants except maybe a few yes’s or no’s, or a slight purse of the lips. The fitting continues onward. (End Scene)
Model is standing, elevated, on a square wooden box in the middle of a very busy room. She is distant and in a state of undress while the room is teeming with people working and attired in YSL. The comparison is between a Model who isn't dressed and the voyeur, who is dressed in luxury; the lack of movement and expression from the Model and the life from the people around here; the conversation around the Model/the orders given, and the silence on her part.
This scene is juxtaposed with the following frames.
[Frame 1]: Model is at a party. She's watching a man who is with another woman. The other woman looks back at the Model to acknowledge that she knows the connection the Model has with her husband.
[Frame 2]: Model and man share a quiet moment in the corner of the room at the party. They are talking, quiet enough to hear the tone, but not loud enough to hear consistently what is said.
[Frame 3]: Model and man in passionate moment, while man's wife is looking on, visible in the corner of the frame.
4801 Jo Krebs soaponarope09@aol.com Scene 2: 21:00 - Hair & Make—Up
Opening shot is of a multi-hinged mirror that fills the entire screen; the sequence mainly consists of all images being disjointed by the mirror's reflection. Mirror is of separate narrow panels that stagger backwards to the edge of the screen, creating a multi-faceted image.
In the background of the mirror we see an empty chair (one that swivels and is preferably white and modern) and an empty pure white background with only a few completely black bottles and hairbrushes. (Black or one strong color that features prominently in the collection)
We see the Model enter in the reflection and sit in the swivel chair looking somewhat cheeky and moving very slowly as she looks around. Only chest upwards is visible in the reflection, surrounded by the harsh black bottles of cosmetics.
La Foule by Edith Piaf begins to be heard in the background; She bites her lip and begins fiddling with a large power puff found infront of the mirror on the countertop and soon a huge cloud of power covers the entire screen and image.
She laughs and when the power cloud clears we see her surrounded by a team of makeup artists all pulling hair, or applying lipstick or curling eyelashes at the same time, very quickly.
Model looks straight ahead and her personality seems to be lost as another one is carefully manifested on her by a team of professionals. When finished they all leave at once and model is again alone.
She looks at herself closely as her new image is fragmented in the mirror; close ups of specific facial features- eyelashes, lips pursing and closeups of hair all fragmented again in the mirror.
She leans back in the chair and spins around until an assistant with a clipboard comes to collect her for the shoot. She takes one last look as she gets up and we see her image slowly disappear in the mirror as she walks off-screen.
[The Fitting scene will be a montage accentuated by music without dialogue]
MUSIC: I think if the fitting facilities can accomodate an aesthetic that matches some energetic Baroque Harpsichord piece, it would be perfect. It would highlight the almost aristocratic feel of the scene, while at the same time putting a bit of a focus on the almost boring aspect of the situation.
INT. A LARGE, LUXURIOUS FITTING ROOM
The scene opens up fading from black as the CAMERA slowly pans from behind a rack of gowns. As the clothing moves out of frame we see the MODEL standing in the near distance with her arms out at the sides while several people pin and adjust her outfit. The viewpoint of the CAMERA shows us her back, while the extremely large and antique mirror in front of her shows her face, and the room behind her. As the camera moves, it reveals details about the situation. We see the people working on her, the rack of clothes as reflected in the mirror, and several people [obviously in charge] watching off to the side in the reflection. Except for the MODEL and the people in charge, everyone else seems to be busy working, rushing to get the job done. The CAMERA will stop moving and focus on a beautiful composed frame, almost like a painting.
There are several shots injected here; a close up of a hand pinning some fabric, a close up of the people in charge exchanging a comment while eyes are focused on the MODEL, and finally a shot of the MODEL looking fairly un-enthiusiastic while a flash goes off.
The SCENE ends with a hand taping a freshly exposed POLAROID to a group of different "looks" previously taken on a wall. The newly added POLAROID develops in a very short period of time [time lapse].
She looks inside her luggage and takes instinctively a dress she watches,taking it from each side of the shoulders with her arms straight:"-That should be perfect" She puts on the dress as she takes her blackberry on her table to watch her mails. She sits down over the bed as she is watching her blackberry and takes from under the bed a pair of heels. She stills watching her blackberry, makes an angry face and throws it at the other side of the bed with a disillusioned gesture. She stands up,goes to the table, searches inside her bag and brings out the eau de toilette vaporisateur de voyage l'Homme of Yves Saint Laurent ,sprays off two times on each side of her neck and one more time on her wrist.She smells her wrist with her eyes closed as if the smell was taking her to some other place in her imagination. She watches her reflection on the mirror with her eyes lost in the distance.
Someone knocks again at the door, she looks at the door as if she had just wake up from a pleasant dream.
Jill feels the fit of the dress. A seamstress with a tape measure around her neck stares Jill up and down.
[JILL] It feels perfect.
[SEAMSTRESS] It really is. Now, lets try a couple more.
Jill tries on several amazing outfits. Each with it's own attitude. She feels the mood of each one and expresses it in the mirror.
The moods transform her...
SHOCKED: her jaw opens wide.
VILLAINOUS: she arches a brow and smirks.
MELANCHOLY: she slumps and places her her fingers on her collarbone.
FRUSTRATION: she sticks her index fingers in the top of the strapless gown and appears to be trying to peel it off.
[SEAMSTRESS] You should be an actress!
Jill blushes.
Just as the model has entered the frame that includes the suited man, and just as she has placed herself awkwardly, like a bad elf, at his feet, and seems to be begging for food, the door to the suite opens and in walks an incredibly tall woman – strong and with precise cheekbones that lead up to dark glasses. Behind her trips a small man, in each of whose outstretched arms is a series of garment bags.
Your model is still standing still. These people move everything else out of the frame – the cart, the suited man, the chair on which he sat. They begin affixing clothing to her body. She barely flinches as they pull dresses over her head and then off again, as they sew skirts onto her, wrap and drape her mid-section, lift her feet for her and insert her legs into pants. They measure, take notes, pin, cut, tuck, and generally ignore her.
Once, the suited man passes by her and inserts a cigarette into her mouth. The other man – wrapped in a jacket that is too large for him – comes over too and takes the cigarette away, walks out of the frame smoking it himself.
The room door just about to close when it swings back and two ladies enter. They look around.
-“Mademoiselle?” They search around but both shrug their shoulders.
-“OFF WITH THE ALARM, PLEASE!” shouts the fitter to the other.
The fitter rushes over to the clock that is next to the window and the camera shot continues out the window.
A black scooter driven by a black leather clad rider stops and allows actress Marion Cotillard to get off. She wears a red trench coat as she leans over and kisses the driver before he speeds off. She waves as she emits a coy smile.
-“Marion, OH Marion!” Shouts a girl rushing down the street. Marion swings about and comes face to face with her twin sister. They kiss and then converse as they walk toward and into the hotel.
-“Your trench coat is divine.” Exclaims Linette.
-“Oui.” Marion says. Better than me.” They laugh.
-“Love.” Winks Linette.
-“Too much love.” Sighs a tired Marion as they enter the elevator.
-In the room the two fitters sit waiting, one swinging a measuring tape and the other jamming pins into a cushion. Marion walks up to door and finding it not closed, peers in. She panics at the sight of the fitters and turns to her sister.
-“Damnez-l'à l'enfer! You MUST HELP ME? I am in no shape to be Fitted now.”
-“FITTED?” Linette smiles for she loves fashion. She heads for the door just as Marion grabs her and begins placing the trench coat around her.
-“There is more but I will call you.” Instructs Marion as she hugs Linette whispering in her ear, “Be me and keep your cell on.” Marion exits down the hall as Linette enters the room.
-The fitters jump up as Linette stands there emitting a Cheshire cat smile.
A FITTING (ALTERNATIVE VERSION OF MINE):
INT. HOTEL BEDROOM ROOM - MORNING (10:00)
Our beloved model is standing in front of the mirror. She is wearing only her fabulous panties, but there is first outfit option on a hanger in her hand. She ‘trying’ it on (keeping it front of her). Couple meters behind her is light movable fitting ‘wall’ (the same type that they used mostly in old movies; to go change clothes behind it). The wall is nicely covered with different kind of outfits which she can choose from. She is measuring herself with her eyes when suddenly the big gust of wind ‘explodes’ the window in and starts to fly outfits all over the place. It’s nothing like the wind would normally do. The outfits are whirling with the wind up and down, left and right & heaven and earth. It seems that those ‘bastards’ are not going to settle down anywhere. It’s the storm of outfits.
Model has now a interesting dilemma how to catch them all. She decides to just do for it. She’s jumping towards the roof, crouching like a tiger, diving into bed, running like gazelle etc... everything starts working on a slowmotion.
It doesn’t matter how hard she’s trying to catch the outfits nothing gets done. She has no chance to get on hold to those little things that seems to be living their own life. Suddenly outfits starts flying out of the window to the streets, further & further, to all over the Paris. One piece at the time. The show keeps going on until there is one piece left in the room. She grabs it and holds it all of her powers. She tries to close the window, which is fighting against her. CLOSED!
Everything gets back to normal pace.
Little bit exhausted she drags herself behind the clothes changing wall. Puts the outfit on and comes back to front of her mirror. Expression that she’s giving is oddly enough almost like relieved. Now she doesn’t have to live that dressing up circus through again (like every other morning). She takes her purse, gloves & sunglasses from the drawer. Puts those on and glances the mirror...
MODEL (with Aubreyn Hepburn charm): Perfect.
Now she’s gotta run, time is honey...
Our model is sitting on the bed. Her hair is wet and she's wearing a robe. She holds her mobile to her ear. We hear the phone ringing and an answerphone message:
-answerphone-"Hello this is Stephane, please leave a message...'
She looks annoyed and hangs up.
She lies back on the bed. We hear a commotion out in the street below. She opens the curtains and looks out to see the chaotic scene - the YSL limousine and van has arrived. Trunks and clothing racks are being unloaded. Stylists and assistants are hurrying through the hotel's front doors. It's the calm before the storm.
Our model sits on the bed and looks at the hotel room door - waiting for the knock.
The look on her face is one of fear and excitement. She is breathing fast.
Finally, three loud raps and the door springs open. Suddenly her room is filled with a blur of people, garment racks and bags, trunks. She is embraced and kissed as the clothes are unpacked and hung up. Soon people dissipate and it is just our model, a stylist and an assistant holding a tape measure and a packet of pins who looks like she is about to perform an experiment.
-stylist- 'Welcome to Paris!' She checks her watch. " Shall we begin?'
-model- 'Well sure, but all this just for the interview? I ....'
The model examines the clothes on the racks, running her fingers gently over the fabrics. Before she knows it she is dressed in an outfit that is exquisite beyond her wildest fantasies. Al her dreams have come true in this moment. She sees herself in the full length mirror. Overwhelmed, a tear runs down her cheek, and drips onto the front of the dress. She gasps and covers it with her hand as she turns to see the look on the stylists face.
-stylist- 'Please, try not to cry on the clothes'.
The assistant laughs in the background.
In the lobby of the hotel a small film crew is quickly following a young man. He is walking fast, his stride is long, and he is holding himself completely upright, with rigid posture. In his turtleneck, black glasses and long blond hair, he has the look of an intellectual cliché. His youth, however—and the absolute beauty of his features—leave no doubt that he takes himself seriously. A member of the film crew narratives the arrival.
[Crew member #1]: We are here in Paris with the respected philosopher and film critic Bertrand Noailles who is on his way to interview the actress staring in the most controversial film of her generation. Bertrand has stated that the film audience has become impossible to shock, and that the filmic image has no relevance anymore as a method of social commentary.
He begins to read a small white paperback with Bertrand’s image on the back.
[ Crew member #1]: “The public’s fascination with storytelling, with its successive unfolding of a logical series of events, belief in cause and effect, and ultimately with a moral conclusion, has destroyed the avant-garde. Because of their aesthetic degeneration, the public will be incapable of recognizing the new avant garde when it manifests.”
The crew member pauses and looks at Bertrand expectantly. Bertrand begins to speak, but continues to look straight ahead while walking towards the elevator.
[Bertrand]: I agree with everything I have said.
Arriving at the doors, he stops and then turns to face the crew.
[Bertrand]: The public has not responded to the film. It has responded to the woman.
Heels click softly on the carpet as a fashion stylist makes her way to the hotel room. As she enters the room, a thin layer of YSL Opium wafts under her nose and she inhales deeply as if to capture the scent. The stylist exchanges la bise with the model and flips through the Polaroids.
In French, the editor asks an assistant about the model’s measurements and the fit of the clothes. She furrows her brow for a second and the model takes it as a bad sign. If the model was nervous before, it was nothing compared to listening to rapid French spoken about her.
More French circulates the room and higher anxieties fill the model. Are they saying good things or bad? Do they want me for the job or not? Her face shows none of these concerns, but her fingers are tapping against her body impatiently.
She opens the door and a group of five persons with lighting and sound material enters without even looking at her and starts to analyse the room. The group is followed by two journalists, a man in a trench coat and a woman strictely dressed in a feminine suit. They look at her and the man says: "_ Hello Miss..., very happy to meet you,they told us you've got a plane to catch, so we'll try to make as fast as possible."
Then watching the signs of a person from the team he adds: "- I think the armchair with the window and the sity in the background would be perfect! What do you think Miss...?" The model/actress answers right back: "-I don't feel confortable being static today. I'd prefer to do it mooving all arround the room doing my things , if you don't mind."
The man looks at her with a surprised face and says: "Ok Miss...,as you want , there's no problem for us.."
Jill smokes a cigarette in her downtime.
She heads for the turntable that the concierge kindly provided her with the night before.
She takes the record off the platform and lightly throws it to the ground like a frisbee.
She finds another album sleeve and puts a record on.
She dances around the room acting silly and spinning around like Anna Karina in ''Vivre Sa Vie’’.
The phone rings. Her elegant arm holds up the cigarette as she answers the phone.
[JILL] Hello? (playfully)
[PHONE] Good morning again miss. I’m calling to remind you that it’s just one hour until the journalist arrives for your interview.
[JILL] Why thank you!
[PHONE] You’re quite welcome miss.
Jill hangs up and takes a drag of her cigarette.
When the tall woman and her assistant have finished ravishing our poor sprightly model, they leave, taking with them all of their accoutrement. She stands alone in an empty frame, lit only by mid-morning light streaming in from the window.
Silently, the actress Jeanne Moreau – now 80 years old – enters the frame and stands before the actress. They look at one another for some time. Then both of your model’s men enter the frame with simple metal chairs, which they place in back of each of the women. The women sit. The men place a simple table between them and begin to set it with simple fare – something like a carafe of lemonade, small sandwiches of easy breads.
The women eat. Jeanne Moreau asks for a more comfortable chair and they bring it. She switches to it and the metal chair she was sitting on is whisked away.
Marion walks across the hotel lobby and right into her next appointment-the photographer Nick Knight and his assistant. She tries to avoid him as he and the assistant greet her.
[A gorgeous sitting room in a different part of the atelier. Our gamine reclines on a sofa, wearing a simple shift dress she's been gifted with her own enormous cashmere scarf wrapped all around her. She is sipping tea from an ornate teacup that matches the tea service on a trolley beside her. In walks devastatingly stylish Emmanuelle Alt of French Vogue]
"Hello!" [our gamine springs up with her disarming smile and large eyes focused squarely on the somewhat intimidating figure who has just entered the room (ushered in by no less than 3 atelier assistants)] "I am so excited for this opportunity to be in Vogue"
"Please. We are more than excited to profile you for the magazine. My god you are it right now! Absolutely it!" [Emmanuelle replies]
"Well I feel like something that rhymes with it" [she lets out a nervous laugh]
"Honestly the past few weeks have been absolutely mad but I am loving every minute!"
[an assistant enters with a bottle of sparkling water and a glass with ice and a lime inside. She sets the glass next to Emmanuelle, pours the sparkling water, and scurries away."
"Now tell me" Emmanuelle begins "Everyone wants to dress you all of a sudden, you are THE international girl. How do you put together this fabulous disheveled style that you have? What are you thinking when you get up in the morning and pair a couture gown with your beat up combat boots?"
"Well it's not so very thought out...I suppose I just have things I've always loved, like my boots. And now designers are just heaping more things that I love at me and so I'm sort of just trying to wear everything that I like and not giving too much thought to weather it goes together you know"
"Yes yes, very modern this way of dressing. I understand you are a bit of an insomniac yes? Your style seems to be well suited to the active nightlife"
"Yes, I suppose I am a bit of an insomniac. I can't get a proper nights sleep when I'm not home and I haven't been home for almost two months now! As for my nightlife style...I just dress to be active and live my life. Part of that is going out to see my friends who are in these great bands and the parties get a bit wild so I have to feel glamourous and fun but be able to move you know"
"Yes. And what's this I've heard about your baths? That you take them early in the morning?"
The film crew is in the actress’ suite. We hear the slow unzipping of a garment bag as one of the assistants to the film crew tries to look at the actress’ new gowns. He then bends down to look inside a shoe box.
In the center of the room, Bertrand is sitting with his legs crossed, elbow propped up on knee and chin in hand. One gets the impression of a yoga pose. With each question he gestures at the actress with his free hand, which reveals a slight tremor when at rest.
[Bertrand]: The problem with interviews of course is that the most interesting questions can never be answered. That said, I have been thinking quite a bit about you. It seems to me that you have finally forced the conclusion of a long debate.
[Crew member #1]: (Narrating in the background) Professor Noailles is of course referring to his famous assertion that beauty is an emotional state and not a visual condition.
[Bertrand]: (continuing)…and so, I am curious, do you find yourself beautiful?
[Actress]: No, but I do quite well for myself despite it. I suppose if I were beautiful I might risk becoming ugly. Besides, how can a person be beautiful anyway? An image is beautiful. This dress is beautiful. A person is, well, more physical than anything. (pauses) Do you find me beautiful?
[Bertrand]: You are so much more than beautiful. You are disturbing and difficult, both of which I have been in desperate need of.
At his statement the actress leans back in her chair and crosses her legs. Her hands are now slightly trembling.
[Actress]: What is the place of women in your life Professor?
[Bertrand]: There is none beyond them.
“Au revoir, au bientot!” the assistants exclaim to the stylist as they leave the room. The model watches wistfully as they gather the exquisite clothing and accessories to be flown to Paris. She notices that the stylist turns her attention slightly to her and with a bemused expression; the stylist sits in one of the velvet chairs at the small table.
The model follows her example. It’s just the two of them alone. An excruciating silence passes between them, both of which act aloof and disenchanted as if they have better things to do. A few more moments pass and the stylist takes her opportunity to speak.
[Stylist]: Have you been to Paris before? You are a new girl, yes?
[Model]: I am quite new to all of this.
[Stylist]: Ah, a fresh face. Perfect for Yves Saint Laurent and the new collection. We always need new blood in fashion, some of the girls out there (shakes her head) are not right for this moment. So come to Paris for the shoot chéri and we will call your agency. Here is your plane ticket and some information (she hands her a leather folder). We will see you soon.
She walks all arround the room as she's searching for stuff to pack her luggage. The eye of the camera follows her and the team too, all surprised by her casualness and naturalness.
The journalist is disarmed by her way of being,however, he starts the interview:"- What do you think about the fact that millions of women today want to be like you?" She bursts out laughing:"- I don't think "millions"of women want to be like me!" she continues packing. The journalist was not waiting for that answers and carries on: "-Your way of dressing for exemple, has become a fashion,you just have to look in the streets!"
She searches for something with concentration without saying a word. The journalist waits for her answer and continues:"-Have you planned being a style icon? Have you decided and worked your style on purpuse to have such an impact on women?"
She stops what she' s doing and watches the journalist: "-I never plan anything. I just dress this way because I like it. I like to feel feminine and chic but I'm always travelling , i can sometimes take three planes the same day, so I have to feel confortable with my clothes too!
- So what do you think if women do dress the same way than you do?
- I think that if they feel confortable too it's ok, i don't want them to feel disguised as me. The way you dress is the result of your taste with your way of living and when i dress , I do it instinctively, I never plan it long time before!
- But sometimes you invent ways of dressing , combining things, never seen before and it becomes a trend , so i think that sometimes you do it on purpuse...
- i dress to live and not the contrary. i moove on throw my life, so does my clothes. I don't follow trends and fashion. My ways of dressing, like you say,depends on my mood of the day, and sometimes i mix things maybe in a strange way for the others, but that is because i take the fact of dressing as a game , not as a slavery."
There is a tape recorder on the table. And a cup of coffee. Jill takes a sip.
We see through Jills point of view as the journalist asks her a few questions. We jump cut after each question before we can hear Jill’s answer.
[JOURNALIST] What are your hobbies?
[JOURNALIST] Your favorite historical period?
[JOURNALIST] Most embarrassing moment?
[JOURNALIST] Who do you think should be the next president?
He looks at his notes.
[JOURNALIST] Uh--Are you in a relationship?
Her expression changes. She inhales. Looks outside.
At noon, a man brings in a third chair, but it remains empty for some time. Finally, a reporter comes racing into the room with a pen and paper and begins to ask questions of Jeanne Moreau. He faces your model, but he has no questions for her at first. She begins to feel ignored. She looks around for her companions. She is alone. She is used to threesomes, but this is a new one. It takes her some time to determine what she should do. Finally, she turns to the interviewer and opens her mouth to speak...
“Where shall we do the interview?” Asks Nick looking directly into her eyes as the eyes roll about.
-“Puits…”She says then hesitatingly. “This way” And off she goes back through the lobby with the surprised men in tow.
-The cell phone rings and Linette standing in underwear being measured grabs it.
-“Hello?” Marion rattles off a need for clean clothes and where to find them quick.
-“Ok.” Says Linette as she smiles at the harried looking fitters.
-The elevator door opens and reveals a small yellow bag in it. Marion picks it up as the two men stare incredulously at her.
-“Excusez-moi?” She says as she heads toward the bathroom tailed by the men.
The fitter’s write and then measure up and down Linette’s body. She is in heaven.
Marion pulls a purple YSL pocket dress. Nick Knight knocks on the door.
-“Yes?” Asks Marion slipping into the dress.
-“Last minute dear.” Pleads Knight. “Can we talk about the studio shoot this afternoon?” Marion sticks her head out and says calmly, “Oui.” Before she quickly disappears back into the bathroom.
The paris hotel room where the interview is conducted is now filled with screams outside.
It is a demonstration from the "ni putes, ni soumises" group. Their slogans are quite provocative.
- from the open window:
"porter la culotte, oui. la montrer, non."
"ni Barbie. ni Ken"
- the model to the interviewer:
"cue-lotte? they mean underpants, yes?"
- the interviewer
"yep. don't worry, they're a bunch of hysterics..."
- the model:
"why are they so angry"
- the interviewer (closing the window):
"they're just jealous, because you're such a sex symbol.
let's just go on. you were telling me about your childhood..."
A small monkey with a red leather collar runs at top speed down the hall towards the half open door of the actress’ hotel room. From inside we can hear the screams of the animal growing louder as he approaches. Suddenly, he pops through the door and begins to jump from lamp to bed to chair. He grabs the small microphone from the interviewer and starts screaming into it. The actress starts laughing uncontrollably as the interviewer and his assistant desperately try to retrieve their equipment from the monkey. Suddenly, appearing at the door wearing an original YSL “Mondrian” day dress, a very glamorous woman in her sixties claps her hands, and the monkey drops the mic. He runs to her, leaps onto her shoulder. She winks at the actress and says in a heavy French accent:
[Older woman]: I’m so sorry. I left the door open by mistake and Charles is so naughty. Good day.
[A door slams somewhere outside the sitting room, causing the china to rattle. Suddenly an assistant rushes into the room and kneels beside our gamine]
"The paparrazzi have are surrounding the hotel downstairs. They have discovered your arrival. I regret the interview must end now."
[A look of boredom mixed with annoyance crosses the gamines face. She turns to Emmanuelle]
"I am so sorry for the interruption. It is always like this now...I so apologize. I thought they would not know I had checked in...I don't know how they know"
"Pas grave, I have enough. But dear you must realize that they always know...I will see you at Stefano's dinner next week non?
"Yes! I will be happy to see you then!"
[An assistant appears to usher Emmanuelle out of the room, a manager figure enters]
"We must get you out of the hotel. They are clamoring below. They think you must be in town to see _____ he is playing a show tonight you know?"
"Yes I'd heard. Don't they think I have better things to do than go to every lousy show? Like I don't have a job that might bring me here? I've finished fitting the gown for Stefano, I should like to leave town immediately. I don't wish to be mixed up with _____ at all. Particulalry since he's been photographed all around town with that Dior girl, though I wouldn't know if somebody weren't insisting on delivering those trashy magazines to my door every day"
"Now Gilles will help us leave out the back and head directly for the airport. You can make the party for that new hotel that's opening up after all..."
Model dresses in a complicated YSL dress on her own preparing for interview. She finishes task quickly, the wall clock ticks, so she has to get this gown on quickly and with skill( Sound of zips, ruffling of fabric) .Not frenzied but with elegance. She doesnt know what the interview is about. A man enters with a laptop opens it( sound of silence then familiar click of laptop opening) on the hotel suite's table sitting next to her. This should not be rehershed but filmed as it is happening. Both must be composed and ready. He begins to explain her task. She is shown a series of photos/ images/ names/ facts related to YSL. He then gives her a short concise lesson on memory recall ( there is an example of this on the bbc website " the brain"..) and tells her she must complete this task, when least expected she will be called on to repeat all the facts, and it is of the utmost importance. ( This should happen as the director wishes in another shot, i.e. a white lie/performance). The man should be deadly serious, a pro mind expert/ marcello m type.. As he departs it is important to cover the shot of the model's real expression and she shold not be given direction, and the task must not be commented on by any of the team..CUT.Email me for more info if you want to use it.. Thanks
With a plastic smile, the hotel front desk employer makes sure to ask the model to “come again and visit!” and the model manages a smile in return. She turns around and glides towards the exit of the hotel, only to be confronted with crowds of people and photographers. Flashes of cameras and shouts drown out a haggled security team’s cries for order.
The model is trapped between the crowds with the eager camera crews which push her further into the sea of people. Annoyed, she determinedly edges her way through closer to the door but she pauses for a second when she sees him. He is standing in front of the door with an enigmatic expression on his face and he looks to be enjoying the attention. “What nerve!” the model mutters under her breath.
Out of all the places in New York City the last thing she expects is to see him here. Here in the lobby of the hotel, the model’s makeup is smudging and her hair is out of place; she looks less than glamorous.
Once the model reaches the door she hopes he doesn’t notice her.
He does. She walks away.
Model and interviewer are both perched on the same sofa,somewhat akwardly facing one another with a low coffee table infront. Furniture is decadent and ornate but plainly coloured against a plain background that matches.
Camera shows model and interviewer in conversation talking about her childhood. Static shot with the camera showing everything from the carpet to the moulded ceiling. We hear small morcels of nostalgia and our model seems placid and content in relaying these.
Interviewer nods and a knock is heard. Both pause and then continue, neither getting up to answer the door. Offscreen the door opens and in trail a team of bellboys all jostling and carrying fantastic bouquets of flowers. Huge bunches in glass vases of one particular type of flower (with a colour corresponding to a prominent colour in the collection) are placed around the sofa, on the coffee table and on the carpeted floor.
All in all there are about 20 vases of flowers and the entire set is filled with them.
Model and interviewer look at each other in confusion. Model stops talking and turns to one of the nearby vases and utters the name of the particular flower, sounding sad,
"My mother used to grow these."
She stops for a few seconds examining the flowers and just then again another knock is heard.
She looks expectantly towards the door and yet again the team of bellboys noisily trail in,
"Sorry Madam," says one of the taller boys,
"There was a mistake, these flowers are not for you but for someone else."
And with that the plethora of flowers in vases are removed by the boys, trailing offscreen one by one.
Our model grabs one stem from a passing bellboy and keeps it. She smells it and turns again to the interviewer.
"Where were we?" she says picking up a single petal left behind on the coffee table.
"Stop!!! Please stop!!"
A young woman enters the room screaming with a group of persons and looks at the journalist: "- You couldn't start the interview without my consent! I am her agent in France, did you forget?? We talked yesterday on the phone! She's not even ready! The team of hair and make-up is here with me and i have to see the lightings! Oh my God!!" Then she looks at the model/actress and lowers her voice: "- I'm so sorry sweetheart, but there was such a traffic jam! i hope they didn't stress you with unconfortable questions!"
The model/actress looks at her with a smile and answers with disarming naturalness:"-It's ok , don't worry , i was having a good time speaking with them."
The young agent looks at her:"- I hope so, Chérie,you've got a plane to take, we should be on our way to the airport now with all this traffic so we better hurry up!"
By hearing this words , the journalist stands up and raises his voice: "-But we just started!! I need some more time!"
The stressed young agent answers: "- Just one more question during we take her luggages down to the lobby, but after I'll have the right of access on the interview."
The journalist watches the model/actress who seems very calm and asks: "-Are you in Love?"
The model/actress bursts out laughing as she walks in the direction of the way out of the room, putting her coat ,taking her handbag and her glasses. The camera does a close up on her face and just before going out , she watches the camera with a dreamy look :"- I'm always in Love."
And she goes out ,leaving all the team of the interview speachless and thinking, like if they just have seen an apparition.
INT. INTERVIEW AT SOME HOTEL ROOM - 13:00
Our model girl is sitting on a chair opposite of an interviewer. The interview is proceeding normally when suddenly the big gust blows the big window open nearby the duo. Three roses in glass vase on a window-pane brakes to the floor (which makes a piercing noise) and curtains starts wildly swinging with the wind, which also brings inside some paper flyers with it.
The sounds from the street starts echoing in. That compiled with scene that the model is watching (open window, swinging curtains & 3 roses with flyers on the floor) captures her attention. It’s working her like a compelling spell.
She gets up, flies over the broken glass like hummingbird, picks a flyer from the floor like ballerina and proceeds towards the window.
CUT TO:
Over the shoulder view on flyer:
Timeless-ness & versatility belongs to us!
Layout can be something like this: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/d/db/May_68_poster_1.png - Which is of course a accustomed to the YSL fashion world and to general vibes of the story .
CUT TO:
MODEL LOOKING OUT OF THE WINDOW (UPPER BODY)
She’s looking out, but we don’t see anything that goes on there. But we can hear the sound which is like a like a huge crowd marching by. We can see on her face that she’ deadly curious about the happenings. Something is calling her.
INTERVIEWER (interrupting): Pardon, is everything alright?
Model nods, smells the air, closes the window & gets back to her seat. She’s ready to continue...
Suddenly, a rock hits the window, startling Jill.
[JOURNALIST] What was that?
She places her hand on her heart. She and the reporter stand and look out the window.
A group of young protesters march with signs outside.
One paints his message on a car: PEACE IN IRAQ.
Jill looks at the journalist, raises her brow and shrugs her shoulders like saying "they have a point".
[JOURNALIST] I knew I should have brought a cameraman.
The Model is sitting in a room, being interviewed by a journalist. The room is empty except for the journalist. It is a relatively gilded, traditionally decorated room. The scene insinuates calm.
A man from the hotel appears suddenly at the door. He is flustered
[Man]: I’m sorry, we tried to stop her but…
A woman interrupts him by storming through the door behind him. She is clearly upset. She is aware that the Model and her husband are having an affair but someone has sent her photographs.
[Woman:] Look!
She takes out a stack of large A4 sized photographs from her purse, some fall onto the floor.
[Woman]: It will be everywhere! Everyone will know!
A second of silence as everyone waits for the Model’s response. The shot focuses on her but she says and does nothing.
[Journalist voice only, rather non-chalantly]: Don’t worry darling, everybody already knows.
The elevator opens and the fitters walk out noisily talking to each other. Linette emerges behind them and while creeping in the lobby’s shadows she interrupts the interview. They stare at Linette who stares back then smiles before she hurries away. Nick begins to speak but the door opens and Marion appears.
-“Must hurry.” She says. Plane to catch.” Elegantly she walks away and disappears into the whiteness of the lobby’s light.
At that very moment, the dogs begin to bark. All parties at the table turn towards them. The shot shifts.
We see now both of your model’s male companions wrestling on the bed with an intruder: paparazzi. The dogs are poised at the foot of the bed, barking loudly. Your model screams and runs over to save her men. The paparazzi bargains: he will stop beating up the men and he will leave if she poses for a series of photographs. She agrees, and they take turns photographing her in a series of freeze frames, alone, with one man or another. When she dissolves in an embrace with the men, the paparazzi takes notice of Jeanne Moreau, and abandoning the erotic scene near the bed, goes to shoot stills of her seated figure, munching sandwiches, then bidding adieu.
Open on MODEL in a Louis XV armchair. Opposite across a table, an INTERVIEWER. Autumn light falls on a silver cigarette case on the table. MODEL lights cigarette, flicks her head back and exhales.
[Interviewer]: He’s a genius isn’t he?
[Model]: Yes. Spring was so energetic. Revolutionary.
[Interviewer]: And the new collection?
[Model]: There’s something romantic about it.
[Interviewer]: Mmm.
[Model]: Something touching. Even tragic.
Sounds of disturbance on the street below.
Interviewer stands and goes to the balcony.
[Model]: A demonstration?
[Interviewer]: Err, no.
Model puts out her cigarette, stands and goes to the balcony.
Exterior Sound: "Allez allez! Allez allez! Allez allez le P-S-G!"
[Interviewer]: Looks like football supporters.
[Model]: Ah oui. C’est drole. Paris St. Germain.
the first class counts 3 boring business men, 1 tired business woman, an older chic woman and herself.
she's sitting comfortably, finally relaxed.
an old "frankie goes to hollywood" tune resonates. it's her cellphone.
everyone turns back at her with a severe look. except the older woman who seems to enjoy the others' indignation.
the model looks everywhere around. the content of her YSL purse flies all over the seat. she cannot find it.
when she finally does - it simply was where it should be, in the pocket of her purse -, the voice-mail rings blondie's "call me, my love".
checking around, she decides to turn off her cellphone.
Slightly dazed, but still intact, the model leans against the smooth leather of her seat and closes her eyes. Somewhere in the distance of the plane, a baby’s cries can be heard and the shuffling of the passengers signals that the plane is not yet ready to leave. A loud ring pierces the model’s sleep as she jolts awake to search for her phone.
[Model]: Hello?
[Agent]: Are you on your way already? I wouldn’t want you to be held up because it would reflect very badly on us.
[Model]: There was a commotion at the hotel, but I got through okay. He was there you know. (There is silence on the other end)
[Agent]: Don’t lose your concentration in Paris. Believe me; I know what it’s like, what you’re feeling. Just focus on your job.
[Model]: (She sighs) I understand. Goodbye. (She hangs up the phone).
INT. AIRPORT TERMINAL
The SCENE opens with the side view of the MODEL's feet, in high heels, as she walks briskly. She is in the Terminal, walking towards her gate. The CAMERA is slowly zooming out and moving up to show us her face. It follows along as she walks, keeping the shot composed.
During this shot, we hear, then see her on the phone:
MODEL: You know this isn't the first time.
[inaudible]
MODEL: Look, I already told you I'd be there!
[inaudible]
MODEL: Why do you always have to bring that up?
[inaudible]
MODEL: Well I don't care, I can't talk about this right now. I'm already late as it is.
[inaudible]
MODEL: Can't we talk about this when I get there?
[inaudible]
MODEL: Thank you. [SHE HANGS UP THE PHONE]
The CAMERA lags behind her and pans around to the other side as she approaches the attendant at the gate. The waiting area is empty and she obviously is the last person to be getting on. She hands the attendant her ticket, [no PASSPORT for time sake, let's pretend this is 1960] and then walks onto the bridge.
Inside the plane , in the buissness class , her phone rings. By seing who's calling , she gives a hint of a smile, and answers softly: "-Hello.."
She listens and suddenly her face expression changes to lack of understanding:"- What? But i thought you could do it tonight!...No, i'm not getting angry, it's just that I was so happy to see you again after so long tonight and now you tell me it's not possible..."
Then listening her face expression becomes all dreamy and calm: "-Yes, I undersatnd...." and smelling her wrist closing her eyes she says: "-Of course, I've got you always with me ... yes , I have a shooting at the Showstudio this afternoon.....Bye!" She hangs up the phone and sighs.
Finding her seat in first class, the hotel maid, transformed by her makeover, is now an absolute double for the actress but she is unsure of herself and tries to avoid eye contact with her fellow passengers. A group of novices troop past her, whispering and giggling. A high maintenance grande dame, all pearls and eyeliner, walks up the aisle followed by a trophy lover, a young man half her age and twice as beautiful. He raises a lascivious eyebrow as he passes the maid. She looks nervously at the empty seat beside her and glances down the aisle. The maid pulls out her mobile phone and dials.
‘I can’t do this. I’m never going to get away with it.’
‘You promised. I just want one day without all the fuss. One more day,’ the voice at the end of the phone replies.
‘Everyone is staring at me,’ says the maid.
‘Of course they are. As far as they are concerned, you are me. Enjoy it.’
The maid turns off her phone. Looks up the aisle at the whispering convent girls and smiles. Then glances back at the empty seat beside her.
At the entrance to first class a musician is arguing with a stewardess about his saxophone. He eventually relinquishes his instrument, watching sadly as the stewardess takes it away to be safely stored before heading up the aisle to his seat.
‘I think I’m with you’.
The maid steps out to let him take his seat. He smiles graciously as he settles down beside her.
INT: Day – Airplane – First class section - London
Our model/Actress Sabrina is dressed in a beautiful ribbed sweater and skirt that shows off her beautifully formed body. She is wearing dark glasses and cutting edge accessories. With elegance and grace, she takes a seat on the plane, removes her glasses and places them in a case before putting them in her bag. Other passengers are still finding their seats. There is low murmur of Italian and English accents. Men and women take quick glances of Sabrina as she sits unaware of the glimpses of others. Sabrina crosses her left leg over her right, revealing a perfectly sculpted leg from her elegant skirt. She takes out a magazine and begins to flick through the pages. Her phone rings. She reaches into her designer handbag on the empty seat next to her and pulls her phone out to answer it.
‘Hello,’ she says. After a moment, Sabrina replies. ‘Yes I did thank you. The champagne was lovely and so was the fruit, but I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are?’ Sabrina looks around the plane at all the passengers sitting in first class. ‘Hello, hello, are you still there?’ Sabrina continues to look around. An airhostess approaches Sabrina, ‘Excuse mam, we are going to be taking off soon and all electronic items will need to be switched off.’ Sabrina nods, ‘Yes of course.’ She lowers the phone from her ear and continues to look around as the airhostess walks away.
First class. Passengers fasten their seat-belts. Jill finds Mathieu on her cell phone and makes the call.
A flight attendant approaches. She gestures to turn the cell phone off.
[NARRATOR] As if the airline taking away her bottle of Opium perfume wasn’t enough! She refused.
Jill gestures back a ‘one-minute’ finger.
The woman scowls. She continues down the aisle.
[JILL] Hey... It's me... I really missed you, Mathieu... I wish you would forgive me. I know I'll see you soon--
She feels foolish and stops without finishing. She hangs up.
[NARRATOR] Jill never knew what to say in those sort of messages.
The actress is sitting in her window seat. Her bags are stowed securely at her feet, her seatbelt is buckled, and her hands are resting in her lap. All of the sudden her phone rings. She starts looking through her purse for her cell, at first calmly, then increasingly desperate, she becomes frantic. She starts taking the items out of her purse and placing them on the empty aisle seat besides her. Three gold-tubed lipsticks, compact, notebook, matches, cigarettes. The phone is not there, but we can still hear it ringing. The flight attendant approaches. As she nears the actress grabs her cigarettes and looks up anxiously, as if to hide them from view. The flight attendant calmly reaches past her and her precious cigarettes to pull the cell phone from the pocket at the rear of the seat in front of her. She hands it to the actress with a smug look. The actress nods as if to say ‘thank you’ and answers the call.
The cell phone rings and Marion answers.
-“MERDE!” She curses. “You’re on the plane?” She turns and looks down the aisle. Linette waves. Marion spins back into her seat.
-“You OK, Marion” Asks Nick from his seat beside her. Marion nods her head and forces a grin. The phone rings again and Marion grabs it. She speaks in rapid French.
-“Etes vous stupide ou fou?
-“You got me into this!” moans Linette. “And I must have a more fashionable frock?”
Marion slaps the phone shut, grabs a bag and down the aisle she goes. Nick stares at his assistant. Linette pulls Marion into the bathroom.
We are now in a small private plane resembling a space like a capsule, as blank a slate as the hotel room from which they just came. We watch as each man walks a dog onto the plane, then up and down the aisle, exercising them. We hear a conversation in our model’s voice, but we do not see her.
The model is nervous inside the airplane. She hates flying so much!! The idea of the airplane crashing gives her the creeps.
She needs to drink something, in order to chill out. She has been in rehab due to alcohol problems, but a bit of whiskey won´t give her any problem...
The stewardess is near our model:
[STEWARDESS]:Would you like something to drink, Madam?
[MODEL](nervous): I, I, I´ll have a whiskey please!
[STEWARDESS]: Sure Madam!
The model drinks one whiskey, two whiskeys, three whiskeys; and half a bottle of champagne. And her stomach has no food in it!!
[MODEL](drunk): Wheraaaaaree thaaa stewardesssss?? I WANNAAAAA ANOTHEEERR DRINKKK!!
[STEWARDESS](embarrased): Er, don´t you think you´ve drunk enough madam?
[MODEL](drunk): DON´T CHA TELL ME WHATTTT TOOO DOOO? I WANNNAAAA ANOOOTHEERR DRRRINKKK!
The reluctant stewardess serves the model another whiskey. The models drunks it very fast...and suddenly he feels ill!!
[MODEL](drunk):IMMMM GONNAAA PUUUKKEEE!! Pleeeassee ggiivvve mee ttthaaa paaaapper baaag!
The stewardess is angry by the fact of having a supermodel drunk on the airplane. So, to give her a lesson, the stewardess takes the model YSL Edition 24 handbag; and gives it to her instead of the paper puke bag!
[MODEL](vomiting into her handbag, and then noticing she´s puking into it):UGGGGGGGGHAAAAAAAA!!! YOOUUUUU BBBBIIIITTCCHH THIIIIIIISS MMMY HAANDBAG!
[STEWARDESS](with a funny face):Yes Madam! YSL Edition 24 handbags are very resistant and versatile for everyday problems!!!
[MODEL](with a poker face): DOO YA THING II COOOULLD RETURRRNNN IIITT TTTOO THAA SHOOOPP ANDDD GEEET MMMYYY MOOONEEEY BAAACKKK???
Alcohol and supermodels...a sometimes bad combination!!
This call destabilized her so much. The drink trolley stands next to her and the air hostess asks her:"- Something to drink miss?"
The question of the air hostess awakes her from all her ramblings, she knows it's not the right place and the right time but she needs to calm down and asks:"- A glass of Champagne please."
The air hostess gives a hint of a smile, as she knew that the model/actress wasn't feeling right and put the glass over the seat table.
Martine, art Director for Another Magazine, has boarded the British Airways flight Paris-Dubai-Johanasberg. Settled into her business class upgrade she checks her blackberry for emails. Next to her a glamourous blonde woman in her late forties, heavily perfumed and manicured, wearing a brilliant purple YSL safari suit from the late 70s - an original - flips quickly through today's copy of the International Herald Tribune. Plane takes off.
Glam Woman: Where is the champagne? I certainly hope its French and I hope it arrives soon. [turns to Martine] My dear have you ever waited so long? Have you just been to the shows? That must be Spring2006 you are wearing - I am an avid collector. My YSL dates to his high point of the 70s. Pardon me I'm desparate to find the drinks trolley. [woman leaves her seat - heads back to trolley at service area].
Martine: [speaks to herself] I wonder who she is. Might be worth interviewing. I'll check her when she gets back.
Glam Woman: [huge smile] Come dear - what are you drinking? [She has maneovered a drinks trolley down the aisle from Economy Class, a steward walking quickly behind her].
Martine: I see you found what you were after. The steward can attend to us--this is first class.
Glam Woman: Well there was some emergency in the back and the stewards were unable to attend to us so lets get everyone served - how delightful, Moet and Veuve, hmmmm darling? Veuve? Here you are [hands freshly poured glass plus second glass and hands over a bottle]. Let me just attend to all these other thirsty people.
Steward: Madame ! Please, allow me to serve.
Glam Woman: Nonsense--[continues to hand out full glasses, second glasses, bottles to all in the first class whether they ask for it or not and pushes trolley through to front..] There all done. [Takes a second bottle of Veuve and settles in next to Martine]. Perhaps I missed my profession as party coordinator. Now do tell me all about those shows. How is the YSL catwalk these days?
Martine: First please do tell me who you are! [Both laugh hysterically, clinking glasses and toasting all in first class as the steward apologises to passengers who dont seem to mind at all. All drink their champagne.]
+++ I wrote this because i would love to see the retro-airline interior built by your set designer. xx
Ah the romance of flight, she thinks, such a constructed environment in the sky, why do all airlines look so similar... when everything is artificial, everything is constructed, so everything could be so PERFECT, So Romantic a vision.
"fantasy sequence" with her new job with YSL at her destination on her mind, she thinks about a luxury airline with a retro inspired interiors by YSL.. just imagine, she'd thought, everything in 1st class EVERYTHING by YSL. ... from the HEY DAY.
its a beautiful thought,
she relaxes in the YSL monogram-embossed tan leather recliner, and lights a long stemmed cigarette on an amber holder, an imaculately dressed air stewardess moves effortlessly toward her, behind a retro-futuristic drinks trolley, Miss.... Champagne cocktail?
as she holds the champagne saucer, she feels a bump against her leg. Yes its reality interupting.
"realitys not too bad though" the champagne may be Non Vintage but at least its french,
It’s a shame that the model can’t have her cigarette. After an hour of boredom and light reading, she needs something else to calm her down. A silver trolley is pushed along the navy blue carpet of the plane, and the model cranes her neck to look for some alcohol. She doesn’t spot any alcoholic drinks, only soda and juice. The stewardess approaches the model’s seat and she finally perks up in hopes of having something to cure her concerns.
[Stewardess]: What would you like today? Juice or soda?
[Model]: (whispers) Do you have any alcohol?
[Stewardess]: What was that?
[Model]: Do you have any ALCOHOL! (She nearly screams this and passengers stare at her)
[Stewardess]: (She pats the model’s shoulder lightly and looks sympathetic) Sure honey, I’ll get you some. Just sit tight alright?
With her drink in hand the model finally feels content. The thin flute feels awkward in her hand, and the liquid burns her throat a little, but she pays little attention to this.
The SCENE opens with a shot of the MODEL sitting in her obviously first class window aisle seat looking frustrated. The familiar "DING" is heard and she looks up to see the SEATBELT sign turn off. She un-buckles her seatbelt and pushes the STEWARDESS ASSIST button [first class on this airline offers no drink trolley, the flight attendants actually take your order, but obviously they are not as speedy as she would like]. A stylish stewardess comes to her side.
STEWARDESS: What can I help you with?
MODEL: Can I have a glass of your finest Cabernet Sauvignon please?
STEWARDESS: Of course, will that be all?
MODEL: Yes thank you.
The stewardess leaves, and the MODEL looks to her side, where in the window seat [thanks to an overbooked flight] she finds a grimy little smile fixed on her.
The flight attendant is making her way down the aisle with the drink trolley. She is taking drink orders and handing them back out across the heads of the passengers. In the row directly in front of the actress' seat she hands a drink first to the passenger seated nearest the window, but while passing the glass over the head of the woman in the aisle seat, she spills two drops of liquid into the large bouffant hairdo just visible above the headrest. Neither she, nor the woman, seem to notice. She then wheels the trolley forward to take the actress' order.
[Attendant]: What can I get you to drink?
[Actress]: I'll take a soda water with lemon please. (pauses) And I'll take five of those small bottles of vodka.
The attendant looks her dead in the eyes. The actress keeps calm and smiles.
[Actress]: Just for emergencies of course. They fit so well in the purse you know.
The attendant hand her the soda water, then places the vodka bottles one by one on her tray table. As soon as she wheels the trolley on to the next passengers, the actress puts four in her purse. Then, after looking around to check that no one is watching, she quickly empties the fifth into her soda water.
The model sits on the aisle side, a flight attendant serves drinks, the trolley is approaching. The model holds an in-flight magazine, and we see an article, it says;
“Introducing a taste of Japan, try our new drink. Just ask for sho-chu and have a real taste of Japanese”
Model: A real taste of Japanese?
Flight attendant: What would you like to drink?
Model: Eh, can I try this… sho-chu thing?
Flight attendant: … sure.
The flight attendant opens a drawer on the trolley, takes out a bell and rings it loudly. He then pushes the trolley forward. The model puzzles.
Now we see another trolley approaching, pushed by a Japanese woman in Kimono outfit, carrying not so much drinks but a young Japanese man inside it. The trolley stops in front of the model, and the Japanese man gets out the trolley. He shows the model a small bottle of sho-chu, opens it and drinks a mouthful. He then holds the astonished model’s face gently and kisses her to give the drink mouth to mouth.
The model swallows the liquid in her mouth with a loud gulp sound.
(* Can be done in any other countries)
[FLIGHT ATTENDANT] Champagne Madame?
Jill looks at the bottle... YVRESSE brand.
She’s reminded of the bottle of champagne her lover Mathieu had brought her. She politely declines.
The flight attendant pushes the drinks trolley to the next row.
Jill changes positions in her seat, she gets comfortable and relaxes.
The plane experiences turbulence just as the stewardess begins to push the drinks trolley down the aisle and Linette is in the act of pulling on a new YSL dress (24 collection yes). She flies out the door and toward the trolley. The stewardess bends over a seat and Linette grabs the trolley and down the aisle they go.
The men have stopped walking the dogs and loll about on the plane’s seats. The model sleeps stretched out on a couch in the corner. A waiter rolls the drinks trolley into the area, and the men ask for what they want, make conversation. They look at the model, but she needs her rest, so they let her be.
(Totally unrelated to my previous entries, but a fun memory nonetheless...)
Seated next to a loud pair of gypsies who tried to trade her their chocolate for her ham, she stared exasperated at the carpeted floor of the aisle. The stewardess pulled up with the drinks trolley and offered her a drink. She gratefully accepted a bottle of red, but as the stewardess was pouring her glass, wine spilled all over the model's leg. The stewardess was tremendously apologetic but could not speak English and so could not sufficiently communicate her embarrassment. Instead, she emptied a bottle of white wine on the model's thigh and began to rub furiously with a napkin, muttering in her own language something to the effect that she would get out the red... The poor model protested, feeling that more wine on her leg was of course not desirable, especially now that her clothes were ruined, but the stewardess continued to rub until she was satisfied, then pulled away sheepishly. The model stared frustrated at the seat back in front of her, then turned to the gypsies and began to bargain for their alcohol.
INT. AIRPLANE/SOMEWHERE ABOVE ATLANTIC OCEAN - 16:00
Our beloved model is sitting in her first class seat and wondering the views outside. She is holding her just served non-fat sugar free vanilla latte in hand. Yes, they are serving those in airplanes nowadays.
Suddenly an air pocket surprises her when she's just sipping the beverage. Luckily she avoids to spill coffee on herself, but then notices that somehow most of her latte is now all over the sleeping business man who is sitting just across the aisle.
MODEL: FUCK! (or fudge!)
Just as she almost screams the word, she covers her mouth with both of her hands. Thinking herself “what on earth I'm going to do now?”
A Japanese guy who is sitting next to “dirty” business guy is just laughing mildly to our girl. We get expression that he might not talk any english. He don't try to interfere to the situation at all (like waking him up), maybe because he is thinking that business man would acuse him of happenings or then he's just being nice to the girl. The model is now hesitating should she “surrender” herself. She's looking like everybody would be suspecting her, a small regretting puppy. They continue to exchange glances with Japanese, who puts her finger on his lips to make a sign that it would be a secret between them. The model nods him shyly back.
She then gets up and walks towards the front of the plane. Says something to the flight attendant and proceeds to the toilet. Attendant seems to be approaching the business man. What our model girl did tell her?
The model/actress sees that the woman sitting in the range next to her is looking at her intensively in a mocking way. The model/actress watches her and suddenly, oh no! This woman has in her hands the people magazine of this week. There is a picture of the model/actress inside going out from a party and the magazine insinuates that she is drug-addict and that she is alcoholic too. The model/actress looks at the glass of champagne in front of her and think to herself:" With this, she must think it's true and believe all the lies of this magazine."
The model actress leans her head against her seat and sighs.
Model places her purse on her lap and looks for something in it.. as she moves her elbow touches the person next to her, waking her from her sleep.. It´s Catherine Deneuve... under sunglasses over a sleeping mask.
Model- oh.. i`m terribly sorry to disturb you Madam...
Catherine Deneuve- (wakening and smoothening her hair) pas de tout Mademoiselle.. do we have a long time to go ?
M- i think we are close to landing..
(announcement comes over the speakers... Ladies and Gentlemen, we are about to land, we ask you... etc.)
CD- oh.. i must make myself look presentable before we land, do i look all right? i must really have dosed off.
she starts to get up and move out of her seat...
M. is giving way to Catherine, and as she steps into the isle she gets her skirt caught on the arm of her seat... stuggles with it lightly as Catehrine tries to pass by her but M. is too close for comfort and there is a moment of struggle as they pass each other. The plane shakes lightly they strugge for balance... They try to avoid looking into each others eyes but to avoid falling they must support one another... they smile.
Catherine passes and says.. please tell Johan (the pilot) to go another circle before we land.. i will need a moment ...
M. smiles and as she sits ..a buttom opens on her blouse and a bit too much is revealed... (a little audible gasp) aargh.. Oops i guess Yves never meant it to be like that...
Catherine look back... Yves would have loved it like that..
The stewardess comes to M. and tells her something in French as Catherine moves on... M. talks to the stewardess and asks her to tell the pilot to fly another circle...
Sitting her to her is a mid-aged man, obviously a businessman. He is smiling at her, not with a kind smile, but rather one that speaks volumes about the daily thoughts of an eleven year old boy. He is admiring his complete and utter luck at having scored a seat next to such a beautiful creature. Unfortunately, he isn't her type, in fact, the only women that can find his hopeless desperation attractive can be found on the empty dance floor at some local bar around closing time. Just as she is beginning to pretend to find the geographic data on the monitor in front of her interesting he starts a conversation.
THOMAS: I'm sorry, but I gotta ask you, have we met before?
[SHE LOOKS AT HIM ANNOYED, IT'S A TOTAL FABRICATION]
MODEL: I don't believe so.
THOMAS: Hmmm...strange, you look very familiar to me.
MODEL: Is that so?
[SHE IS GETTING MORE AND MORE IMPATIENT]
THOMAS: Yes, yes. In fact, I think it may have been at a club called Bungalow 8 in New York. I always get a table there.
["GOD," SHE THINKS, "NOT ANOTHER MODEL HOUND"]
MODEL: I'm sorry, but I have never been there.
THOMAS: Are you sure? My name is Thomas? Thomas Dickinson? I run an IT company in Florida? Doesn't ring a bell?
MODEL: I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else.
THOMAS: Are you sure? [FAKED LAUGH OF DISBELIEF] Because I mean, really, you.. look familiar... and I'm not the kind of guy that can just forget a pretty little face like that!
[SHE HAS HAD ENOUGH]
MODEL: I'm really sorry, you'll need to excuse me.
She gets up, grabs her purse and moves to the front of the cabin, towards the bathroom. On her way there she runs into the stewardess who served her, holding the glass of wine. With a specific look only women can use she asks for a favour.
MODEL: Would it be ok if I switched seats?
[THE STEWARDESS LOOKS TOWARD THE DIRECTION OF THE MAN AND HER FACE SHOWS UNDERSTANDING OF THE SITUATION.]
STEWARDESS [WITH A SMILE]: Not a problem, we have one right over here.
she'd always been secretly jealous of other passengers on flights, changing into their tacky complimentary 'flight suits', the ones withdrawing into their own world, thinking of family, drinking too much, watching trashy movies surrounded by strangers. they always looked like they had 'a moment to themselves' but not our heroine. not any longer. not since she was 18 and everyone knew her. she found herself casually, mindlessly, caressing the perfect arch of her leg, the left slightly crossed over the right, making sure her hair fell just right, and that everything was placed around her 'just so' just so that she didnt look too well i guess 'hectic' is the word. it took a lot of attention to detail for her to maintain this air of relaxed elegance.. even though her reputation was one of being on the raw edge of fashion - even when she was out at a bar at 5am, even when she'd made the headlines for being out on a 'bender' as the like to put it, she's been very careful always.
she was acutely aware of how critical and fickle the world could be in judging her. on a flight as anywhere she had to be hypersensitive to her look and her surroundings.
with these thoughts in her mind she glanced around the cabin wondering just who these travellers with a lassez-faire attitude to appearance could be, and who indeed she was performing for this flight, when her eyes met a semi-familiar face .... that stylist, what was his name? the one that called her Conceited, the one that told the trash mag she was a prima donna. What was his name again. the one that made her wear a skirt that was far too short, with a russian cossak hat last year. oooh ...
she turned away to think, maintaining her carefully constructed 'look' ,.. too late.
a voice calls accross the cabin
"oh honey... i heard you were working on this shoot in london too"
the model is returning from the bathroom.
everyone in the cabin is staring at her.
she believes it's because she's quite famous.
or because she's drunk.
in any event, she walks, bold and confident
as if on a runway...
... until the stewardess interrupts her
and - with her her strong French accent -
whispers to her ear:
" sorry, but your dress is..."
suddenly the model turns back to discover...
... the back of her dress got stuck in her panties.
humiliated yet majestic,
the eyes audaciously defying a boring business man
who's been looking at the scene conspicuously,
she walks on and doesn't fix the dress
before she returns to her seat.
Set in the service area of an airplane, three stewards\\ess busy with food prep dont notice as a tall man in bespoke suit wearing an eye patch crosses the line between economy and first class. The man sees an empty seat next to our model who is wearing a red wig and a navy pinstripe suit. She is writing a letter. She takes a makeup compact out of her bag to adjust her makeup and in the mirror sees the man approach.
Man with Eye Patch: Dont say a word I wont disturb you- I may only be here for a few minutes.
Model: The seat is taken.
Man: Well she passed out-some kind of overindulgence.
Model: Is she alright?
Man: She is in good hands. Dont be alarmed-I am just hiding from the crew. I dropped a small parcel-simply some recreational drugs. You have been crying? Are you writing a Dear John?
[Steward is roaming the aisle looking frantic. Model grabs the man, pulls him close and gives a mad pash to hide him from view. After all clear she releases him.}
Man: You have saved me. Thank you. Come to Miami to unwind--an adventure, el amor lo vence todo -- love conquers all.
[The stewardess walks away. CU of the model staring into space, a look of blankness as her high from the alcohol gives way to nausea. From her face you can tell she's trying to collect her thoughts but her head is spinning]
Off camera voice of young woman: Excuse me, aren't you [name]?! You're so beautiful, I love you, I'm such a fan, I...
Model: Oh!, um...no, no I get mistaken for her all the time..
Young Woman: Oh, come on...please, I just want an autograph, I'm your biggest fan, I...
[She's embarrassed, trying to compose herself and hide her bag]
Model: [speech still a bit slurred, getting uptight] Look, yoou've really mistaken me, I done, I cann, I...LOOK, I was thinking about somethin impornant...I, I have to think...
[Stewardess returns with a cloth]
Stewardess [relishing the chance to embarrass her]: here's a cloth to clean up your sick, Ms. [name of model]. On your next flight with us we recommend you don't drink like a fifteen year old at her first party, hm?
Young Woman [dissapointed and sarcastic]: Huh...So, what were you thinking about?
Model: [sighs, looks depressed]...nothing...
[Stewardess and Young Woman walk away, Young Woman mutters 'scumbag' under her breath]
Model: [staring morosely into space]...I was thinking of nothing...
She lays back, lets out a long sigh and laughs it off quietly to herself.
Cool water runs down the model’s face as she removes the majority of her makeup. Swirls of colors pool the sink which leaves a trailing residue on the metallic surface. She washes it all away with water.
Feeling more refreshed, the model leaves the bathroom and makes her way to her seat. Someone gives her a quick wave and a flush of crimson blots her face. When the person approaches her, she struggles to make small talk.
All she can focus on is looking into the face of the women who once said she was “unfit to model.” She feels trapped again, but she endures her false praises and listening to the agent lament over not signing her. The torture finally ends and the model downs another glass of alcohol at her seat. This is how she copes.
Two Monitors. We see a waiter pushing the drinks trolley, leaving the room on the left hand monitor. On the right monitor the model is dressing. The WAITER pushing the drinks trolley is seen to 'forget' something (a bottle or glass perhaps), he returns without knocking. We see him on the left hand monitor at the doorway, and again in the right hand monitor, where the model stands proud. Nothing moves except the pulse of the monitors flickering.
The flight experiences some turbulence. Sabrina takes a small tube of moisturiser from her designer handbag. As she does this, her sunglasses case fall to the floor from the unpredictable turbulence. As she reaches down to pick it up from the empty seat in front of her, she notices a hand picking it up first. She looks up to see a handsome man, (Jack) hand her back the case. ‘You have great taste,’ he says. Sabrina smiles and thanks him. She looks at him curiously. ‘Do I know you?’ she asks? Jack smiles and nods his head, ‘yes.’ Jack shows Sabrina a magazine with a full-page picture of Sabrina. She takes a close look and is shocked as she remembers the ad campaign. ‘Oh my God, where did you get that from?’ she asks. I keep copies of all my work,’ Jack says with a smile.
Sabrina turns her head and looks even more curiously at Jack. Suddenly, a female voice with a sexy Italian accent comes over the plane’s intercom. ‘Attention ladies and gentlemen, this Claudia the flight Supervisor, The captain has turned on the seat belt sign so please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts until the Captain turns off the sign.’
‘How convenient,’ Jack states. ‘May I?’ he asks, pointing the magazine at the seat. Sabrina nods and smiles as Jack sits down.
The model restless in her first class seat, picks up her designer bag of the season, and begins going through her purse with reckless abandon, pulling out random things and throwing them carelessly back in. She digs further into the mess inside. She finds her I- Pod and starts untwisting the headphones, she gives up, stands up, tosses the I-pod on her seat and walks out of the first class cabin to the bathrooms which are occupied.
Impatiently waiting, the door opens, a man walks out and smiles at her as he passes. Her mood instantly changes, she smiles back and turns around to look at him again. Something clicks.
Model: Wait! I know you.
The man turns around looking confused
Man: I am sorry are you speaking to me?
Model: Yes, I remember your face
Man: How?
Model: We met in front of the museum. We spoke for a while
The man smiling, almost embarrassed that he does not remember her, looking at her trying to place her face.
Model: You were looking for something unusual to do in New York.
Man: (he laughs) Oh Yeah! Now I remember. (Smiling, looking at her face) You look different I didn’t recognize you. You sent me somewhere kind of strange and far. I can’t believe you remember. That was so long ago.
Model: Yeah, It was.
She smiles sincerely, delighted by her anonymity, she is more intrigued by him. He looks at her with bright eyes, and they stare at each other with an uncomfortable silence. The flight attendant is trying to make her way through the isles with the duty free cart, which forces them closer together as if they are about to kiss. There is a bit of turbulence, she loses her balance and almost falls, he catches her in an embrace, she is slightly embarrassed.
Model (Cont’d): excuse me, I am sorry, thank you!
The pilot makes an announcement for everyone to return to their seats and fasten their seatbelts. They smile at each other, she turns around to return to her seat in the first class cabin. He touches her shoulder, she turns her head to face him.
Man: What is your name?
Jill is distracted by overheard whisper. She glances directly across the aisle at a couple of women, both in resort wear.
[WOMAN ONE] Is that her? (faintly)
The women tug at a magazine. A flash of the cover reveals a beauty shot of Jill with fantastic makeup with the words LE NOUVEAU ICON.
Jill turns back toward her window. She ducks down.
[NARRATOR] Jill was demure, unaffected by her recent rise in fame.
The woman diagonally across from the actress’ seat gets up to go to the lavatory. Nestled in the corner of her seat we make out a small box from a famous French patisserie. The actress stares at it in disbelief. She is seized by a craving. She artfully removes the box and opens it to take out a lemon macaroon. She has just taken a bite when she sees that the lady has returned prematurely and is watching her with disdain.
Linette stops and looks back at everyone including the stewardess staring at her. She pulls the dress up as an arm emerges and zips it for her. She grabs a coke and holds it up. She smiles as she walks back to the bathroom.
She awakes an hour later to see that the two men are more intimate with one another than with her. They sit close to one another, speak quietly, touch. She is jealous and about to speak, but the plane jolts and she falls from the couch. They giggle. She picks herself back up and lies down on the couch again, covering her eyes with one arm and stretching out the other for a drink. Something colorful is placed in her grasp and she drinks it from a straw, lying down.
The Model undoes her seat belt and tilts her seat back. The bald middle-aged Man next to her knocks back his Scotch and licks his lips.
MAN: Are you a model?
MODEL: Yes.
MAN: Lingerie?
MODEL: If it's expensive.
MAN: It so happens that I am a very rich man. You should really do your belt up, you know. Who knows what might happen, one mile high.
The Man leans across the Model, brushes her breasts with his hand as he gropes for her seat belt. Instantly the Model presses the buzzer on the panel above her head. A Stewardess appears.
MODEL: This man has just sexually assaulted me!
MAN: Now look here...she led me on, she's a lingerie model!
STEWARDESS: I do apologise, madam.
The Stewardess reaches into her apron and gets out a huge gun. She tasers the Man who slumps in his seat, out cold.
STEWARDESS: George!
The strapping Geoorge appears, hauls the unconscious Man out of his seat, throws him over one shooulder and carries him away.
MODEL: Thank you.
STEWARDESS: Not at all, madam, it's all part of our training.
The model unhooks her seatbelt and starts to stand. Her long hair is caught.
At first this seems normal and she tries again, but her hair is being held by someone in the seat behind her.
She moves up and out of her seat the only way she can: a backbend. Like some in-flight contortionist, but slow and graceful, she is up, out of her seat, but her head is pulled back her towards the row behind.
She manages to invert and, bending forward now, she is looking through the cascade of her hair. She uses a hand to part the hair so that she can see through it.
A man holds the ends tightly in his fist. They remain locked in one another’s gaze.
Then she reaches up and scratches his hand like a cat. He does not respond.
She says, “If you let go, you can have a piece of it.”
He lets the hair relax for a moment, but keeps his hold on it. He says nothing.
She says, “I have scissors.”
He puts one hand up, palm open.
She looks down, fussing in her bag, and finds a pair of nail scissors. She hands them to him.
He snips off a piece of her hair and lets go.
She stands, shaken, and leaves for the restroom. On her way back to her seat, she passes the man’s seat and notices that he has pinned this lock of her hair to the back of the seat in front of him.
The model is in the plane’s restroom. The space is cramped and small. The lighting is harsh.
She stares at herself in the mirror, then wanting to see more of herself, she stands on the lid of the toilet. She is so tall that she is bending over in the space: half of her is along the wall and half along the ceiling.
She plays with her reflection, lifting one knee, setting it down, lifting the other, beginning a kind of tribal dance. She finds this funny and laughs as she breaks out in a more extravagant number, there on top of the toilet.
She thinks she hears a knock and stops, jumps to the floor, cocks an ear at the door. Nothing.
She looks up again, and this time, instead of dancing on the toilet, she tries to scale the walls. It is such a small room that she can get her feet and hands spread to each side of the wall easily. She climbs. Suspended like a spider over the tiny washroom, she laughs again, staring down at the stupid appliances, into the mirror at herself.
Someone jiggles the door. She leaps down, looks in the mirror, unlocks, and leaves.
The older woman seated next to the actress gets up to use the lavatory. She arranges a few items on her seat and walks away, leaving behind a few paperbacks, a small notepad, and a box of pastries. Once the woman is gone, the actress looks left, then right, opens the box and sneaks a pastel colored macaroon. Biting into it, she recoils in shock. Inside we see a syrupy, dark liquid oozing from the center. She touches her finger to the center and tastes it. Unsure, she hesitates, then she finishes it off.
All of the sudden the lights in the cabin dim, then brighten. The older woman seated next to her returns. Her clothing seems strange. She is dressed unusually ornately, in brocade and velvet, though the colors are muted. Her hair, which at first seemed conservatively styled in a French twist, reveals two diamond horns protruding from her forehead. She settles back into her chair and places the box at her feet. The actress realizes that she has drugged herself with a stolen pastry.
She decides to calm herself and work through it. A man nearby opens his carry-on bag and several doves fly out. The flight attendant walks down the aisle with one fishnet stocking and black eyes. The actress begins to breathe heavily. This is going to be more difficult than she thought.
The older women looks over at her and notices her breathing and the absent look in her eye. A few yellow crumbs still cling to her shirt betraying her. The woman pulls a bottle of water from her bag, and opens the large ring on her finger to retrieve a small white pill. Handing them both to the actress she says:
[Woman]: Here you go. That will teach you to be such a curious little kitten.
The actress looks at her, takes the pill and swallows it.
The model walks the isle, she passes the food storage area and finds some snacks on a tray, nothing there she likes. She sneakily opens drawers and cupboard to find something to eat. She opens the bottom drawer and finds a package, which says “Angel Kit”. There is a halo and wings shaped marshmallow-like sweets inside the plastic pack. On the bottom of it we read “not suitable for adult”. The model opens it anyway and eats them.
The next moment, her back gets itchy, then we see huge wings growing on her back and she floats up in the air, flapping the wings. Also her hair curls up and has a halo on her head.
A flight attendant who holds a little girl’s hand, stand in front of the model, the attendant looks at the model and sighs, and looks at the girl apologetically.
Flight attendant: Sorry, that was the last one.
The girl looks so sad, she is about to cry. The model blushes and quietly flies to her seat and lands on it.
The actress pulls a hot pink journal from her carry-on bag. We see her write on the page: ‘I dream of anonymity.’ She closes the journal and then leans back in her seat thinking to herself. Blank screen with graphic title: ON ANONYMITY AND AMBIGUITY
A rooftop terrace in Manhattan. A young man wearing a silk blindfold is trembling, bare-chested, with his hands bound behind his back. We see a woman’s gloved hand caressing his face. Looking along the slender arm, up to the shoulder, to the face, we see the actress in a very short evening dress. Her expression is playful and she is holding a riding crop in her other hand. Behind her is a blindfolded string quartet. Closing in on the face of the cello player we see him lift the edge of his blindfold with his bow. Back to the actress, now on all fours above her lover. She turns directly to the camera.
[Actress]: There’s no such thing as privacy nowadays.
We hear the crack of the riding crop and see the lover, blindfolded, contort his face in agony and delight. He speaks—to no one in particular.
[Lover]: (Groaning) She’s right of course.
Our heroine (model/actress/whatever!) was really, really angry. She was very upset with the director of her agency, who was reluctant about paying her more money. She works very hard, so he deserves it!
The image of the her fat as a pig director was stuck in her mind. What an idiot!
She is flying to Paris, to model in a photoshoot for some fashion magazine. There is a newspaper on next seat to her, with the latest news in France: "PEOPLE GETS MAD AND BURNS CARS", "RIOTS IN ALL CITY", and "YOUNG PEOPLE WANT THE HEAD OF THE PRESINDENT". She was a bit worried after reading this...but then she had a daydream:
she saw herself wearing a special forces uniform designed by YSL, with a shield and a helmet. And she had to fight against the people on the streets. But all the people had her director face!!!
She begun beating a man, while talking to him:
[MODEL]: You asshole!! Pay me more money!! You are so fat because you spend all my money in your stomach!
[MAN]: You are a lame model. So unexpressive! Even an inflatable love doll has more expressiveness than you have!!
[MODEL]:YOU BASTARD!!! DIEE!!! Ohh, shit. I´ve broken one nail!! You are gonna pay for this!!!
Suddenly the airplane stewardess interrupts her daydream:
[STEWARDESS]: MADAM! Can you stop beating the man sat in front of you with the newspaper,pleease!!
(The model is shown sleeping in her seat and the camera reveals her daydream)
She can’t see his face in the darkness of the room, but she feels him. She feels his hands all over her body and his lip lightly touching her ear whispering sweet promises that will amount to nothing. Black and white shadows dot the noir atmosphere and the only color left is in her lips.
Then he whispers something so damaging it leaves her crumpled against the wall clutching her stomach. She hates herself for feeling so weak and insignificant as he walks away from her. His back is turned to her and rage is the only emotion left in her drained body.
A gunshot rings out but he doesn’t turn around. Her hand is on the gun and blood pools beneath her.
The MODEL is in her new seat, reclined and lying back. The lights in the cabin have been dimmed. The SHOT is focused on her face, her head comfortably laid against the black leather cushion. Her eyes are closed and she begins to slip away into a dream. The light darkens, the frame darkening around her. The angle should be so that it looks as if the camera is looking straight down on her. Suddenly we see a man's hand reach from her right side, and it moves across neck and begins to caress her cheek on the other side. The sound of the airplane fades. Her eyes open and she looks to her right, the scene now having changed to her lying in a bed with dark satin sheets and similar but slightly different light. The shot changes to show her lying in bed next to an attractive man who is admiring her with a gentle smile on his face. She smiles.
MAN: You look so beautiful when you sleep. Like an angel.
MODEL: How long were you watching me for?
MAN: Long enough to let my heart skip a beat or two.
MODEL [WITH A LITTLE LAUGH]: You're too much.
MAN: Shh, [HE PUTS HIS FINGER OVER HER LIPS] you're ruining it.
FADE IN
Our LADY falls. A broken heel tips her forward toward the bar of an exclusive establishment. Her facade fails her. Noone looks. She lands, hands first on a sharp champagne flute. It splashes into fragments beneath her hand.
Cigarette smoke slithers upwards in the dark.
Our MAN walks over. Noone looks. He lifts her chin, and gently pulls flakes of glass from her bleeding palm.
FADE OUT
Looking throw the window, the model/actress starts dreaming awake. What she sees throw the window dissolves into her inner world: we can see her laughing at the table of a bar and a man's hand carresses her cheek, she looks at him handing his hand with her two hands and her eyes look full of love and happyness.
The Model relaxes in her seat. She looks absolutely stunning in her Edition 24 clothes and she knows it. The latest bag from the collection nestles under the seat in front. With a happy sigh she gets out the in-flight magazine and flicks to the luxury cosmetics and perfumes. She runs her manicured fingers over the YSL products. The lipsticks, the perfumes, the prices...!
ANNOUNCEMENT: Ladies and gentlemen, our flight staff will be taking orders for a full range of luxury cosmetics, perfumes and gifts presently. Please be advised that we cannot accept credit cards. Dollars, Euros or Sterling only please. We apologise for any inconvenience.
The Model gets her purse out. Stuffed with credit cards and receipts but no cash of any sort, alas. She shrugs her shoulders and puts her purse away.
Suddenly the Emergency door is torn away. Passengers scream and those unlucky enough to be unstrapped are sucked out of the plane to their deaths. Drinks, food, bags and emergency procedure cards fly past the Model. She begins to pluck objects out of the air, YSL lipsticks, face powder, nail polish and perfumes. Safely strapped in, the Model calmly stashes her booty in her Edition 24 bag as the stricken plane hurtles to its doom...
The Model awakens from her apocalyptic daydream as a Stewardess smiles at her admiringly.
STEWARDESS: Any cosmetics for you today, madam?
MODEL: No, I'm good, thank you.
The model is looking at a collection catalogue of YSL. Suddenly the turbulence shakes the plane.
The next moment, the seat underneath her disappear and she can see a large hole below her, she falls down and out into the open air. She screams.
But she realizes that she is falling very slowly and looks at herself in surprise. She has a dress from the catalogue that blowing up like a parachute from the waist down, holding a big umbrella on one hand, a large bag on the other hand, and wearing a tiny decorative hat and a pair of lace-up platform shoes. She turns into the modern version of Mary Poppins, falling gracefully down from the blue sky.
A gust of wind blows, and she comes to herself, sitting on the plane as before, amazed.
Model: Phew! That was good.
A jump cut. Jill lies back relaxing in her seat. Her window is covered. The light in the plane is quite a bit darker. She yawns.
Her vision blurs...
Jill is on the set of a photo shoot. She holds on to the top of a ladder with one arm and lifts herself up a few steps. She faces to the side, a profile shot, but her eyes stare at us eerily from behind the steps.
Her body is off screen, in dramatic lighting she slowly lifts one leg like a ballerina.
Jill opens the palm of her hand which is painted black with a key stuck in the center.
A fan blows wind at her from behind. She wilts like a flower in slow motion.
The model staring through the window into the clouds and the colorful sun drenched sky , smiles and closes her eyes.
Ext. A beautiful night sky filled with stars and waning moon
A taxi stops in front of the hotel, the doorman dressed in an impeccable suit and white gloves. He opens the door. The model gets out of the taxi and is dressed to kill. She is a combination of beautiful and sexy that it is intimidating.
Int. A Parisian Hotel
She walks through the hotel lobby and everyone stops to look at the beautiful creature passing by. She notices no one and heads straight for the bar, where a man is sitting alone with his back to her sipping a martini. He is handsome and well dressed. She quietly approaches behind him, and covers his eyes with her hands. From the scent of her skin and knows it is her, he smiles. He covers her small delicate hands with his own, slowly he moves them down his face until he is kissing her hands, He turns around to look at her, he gets up takes her hand and they walk through the lobby towards the elevator. The elevator door opens, they walk in alone, the doors close, he stares at her and they begin to kiss.
View of Paris and the night sky in the background, the model and her man stand on the terrace kissing as though they are the only two people in the entire world and nothing exists around them.
Nick is dreaming he is photographing Marion but as she floats on heavenly fabric wings her hand reaches out and takes the camera. The camera turns into dozens of golden 24s that dissolves into 24 Marion’s all dressed in the different YSL outfits. He opens his eyes and Marion is talking to herself. I am still dreaming he smiles as he turns to the movie which is playing.
The Model relaxes in her seat as the Stewardess tucks her taser gun into the pocket of her apron.
MODEL: Do me a favour, I'd prefer to be alone for the rest of the flight.
STEWARDESS: Of course.
The Model stares out of the window, lost in a reverie.
She stares at the bald, middle-aged man as he leans across her, brushes his hand against her breasts...
The Model grabs his middle finger and bends it upwards until it breaks.
MAN: Ow! You bitch, that's my pussy finger!
MODEL: Then I have done the women of the world a favour.
The Model chuckles and switches on the screen in front of her.
INT. DREAMWORLD/PLANE - 17:00
(The scene’s color world is darkly toned. Benchmarking point can be movie Black Dahlia.)
The music box covered with YSL fabric is on the mahogany table. It is playing this sweet old sleep tune, that took us far away when we were child. To meet clouds, lambs & more...
We are just adoring this magical box for a while when suddenly it’s deck pops up. Our beloved miniature model climbs out and starts wondering the huge world outside. She is wearing this marvelous piece from YSL. She carefully jumps down from the edge of the music box. She is very cautious. The model is just a tiny creature on the table and the surrounding world is so big and scary (normal sized world). But curiosity is pushing her forward.
The table is otherwise empty, but there is of course the music box and then this tiny golden coin. It fascinates the girl. She goes behind the box and comes back with the flag which is approximately same height as our miniature model friend. Her elegant conquistador march towards the coin is precious thing to watch. She’s looking to be so sure that she’s going to declare the coin herself and after that conquer the rest of the big surrounding world.
As the girl stands next to this massive gold piece (compared to her size) a thought comes to her mind. She takes black gloves from her bag and puts those on. ‘It's good to cover your hands when working’, she thinks. The moment has come. She raises the flag and is ready to declare her independent ownership to the coin. Suddenly the sunbeams comes from a window, hits the coin, which reflects those to the girls eyes. She gets blinded by the light.
Our model (back to real life & full sized) wakes up. The airplane has just inclined a bit and therefore turned for a bit new direction. The beams that hit her eyes was from this pretty great sunset which is shining from the airplanes window. She’s watching it motionless.
She begins to imagine what life would have been like had she not been discovered. We see her back in her hometown engaged in various activities. They start out idyllic – painting in plein air – but soon take on a more serious tone, and your model shakes off the daydream just in time for the movie.
The actress is sitting on a park bench with her legs stretched out watching the activity around her. Several couples are picnicking, and children are playing. A group of joggers runs past. All of the sudden she feels raindrops. She brushes the dampness off her trench. Her hands are streaked with gold paint. She begins to struggle with her umbrella. Finally we see her standing in a circle of dry ground obviously protected by her umbrella. The grass and asphalt around her are gilded. Her YSL shoes are intact.
The plane. She sits back in the oversized first-class leather seat with an off-white silk pillow behind her head, a black silk eye mask over her eyes, and two iPod earbuds firmly in her ears. One French-manicured hand clutches the iPod, flipping songs restlessly until there’s a tap on her shoulder. She drops the iPod in her lap and raises the eye mask expectantly, only to be met with a glass of cool chardonnay from the stewardess. She smiles and accepts the glass, raises her seat slightly and takes a sip as she begins to gaze out the window. One delicate strap of her summery boho top falls off her shoulder as she folds up a long leg into her seat and stares out the window. Her mind quits spinning long enough for her to admire the delicate features of the clouds they fly over while her iPod continues to play.
She imagines being down on the ground of the landscape below – walking through meadows, up mountain paths, wading into a stream for a cool drink of water. She imagines having nothing on her schedule and no one to whom she must answer. A garden of her own, a cow, a goat. An earthy cottage and cool breeze, and being able to just sit in the sun as a fat barn cat comes and rubs up against her face. She picks berries she passes by and pops them into her mouth. She has only what she must have to survive; only what she needs and nothing more. She daydreams about a simpler state, a simpler time that she knows she can’t have. She is having nothing so seductive when you have it all?
The dream vanishes as her blackberry vibrates on the seat beside her for the fifth time but she’s just now hearing it. She glances at it for a moment and notices a gentleman in the seat across from her smiling at her. As she looks away, she notices she hasn’t touched her wine and takes a thoughtful sip as she leans back against the cool silk pillow and contemplates a change of scenery. The lights dim as the in-flight movie begins, and out of the corner of her eye, she takes stock of her newfound admirer. People stare at her everyday, sure -- in the subway, on the street, in shops -- her beauty is not something that can be hidden beneath a trench coat and sunglasses. It’s so much more than a familiar face, more like a warmth that causes people who have never laid eyes on her to stare. But this man’s glance was a bit different – as intriguing as other people found her, and just as mysterious…
A DAYDREAM (THE MORE OUTRAGEOUS VERSION):
INT. DREAM - 17:00
(The scene’s color world is black and white.)
Modern day samurai (just like the Johnny Mo in Kill Bill; black suit, venice type of mask on his face and long samurai sword in hand) is walking on the empty streets of Paris. It looks like he is keeping some type of street guard, but is still advancing all the time. He is the law.
Suddenly he notices something on the bridge which is crossing the Seine and is leading to the Latin Quarter. He runs to the place where bridge starts and checks up on his surroundings. The intruder is now identified as a YSL (edition 24) outfit on a wooden mannequin torso. There are many lights on the bridge, so it’s fairly well lighted. The samurai yells something in Japanese and starts slowly approaching the dress on the dummy. The sword is now stretched out with the hand, little bit pointed at downwards. He’s prepared to eliminate the gorgeous intruder, which would most definitely cause disturbance on the streets. Lots of talk and lust.
As the samurai is moving closer to his target our beloved model appears from behind the mannequin. She’s prepared to defend this magnificent piece of clothing at any price, although she doesn’t show any kind of fighting postures or hostility. Both are standing still now. Unarmed model in serious posture, her hands on her waist. And the Samurai has bended a little his knees and is holding his upward pointed sword with both of his hands. It’s an eye for an eye type of situation. Both are staring at each other.
Samurai decides to make a move.
SAMURAI: BANZAI!
Simultaneously launches his attack. Raises his sword up and starts running towards the model & outfit. The model has decided to stay put and do nothing. Or then she just can’t do nothing coz her limbs are numb. We can’t be sure. But she still maintains her firm posture and determined facial expression. Keeping it all the way...
At the moment when samurai is about to hit the model with his sword the screen goes blank (black). We just hear this noise. The metal hitting the other metal.
CUT TO/FADE IN - AIRPLANE:
She is waking up. A little bit terrified from her dream. The movie has started - It’s Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai. The model is relieved that it was just a dream. Noises are obviously affecting her subconscious.
FADE OUT.
The daydream - in contrast to the surreal flurry of the rest of the film - is quiet... perhaps a film only of the shadows of the characters cast onto the white of the wall. Perhaps some of the shadows are of colored transparent objects.
(I think you are imagining your film in black and white since you refer to Truffaut and Maya Derren... but the subtlety of a few colored shadows might alter this scene just enough to suggest an alterity, an interiority... Anything transparent casts a colored shadow - which suggests the possibility of transparent fabrics, balloons...)
The character walks through a carnival scene, encounters slow acrobats and dwarves, the balloon seller, the shadow of a ferris wheel (which could just be a small toy ferris wheel, the shadow of which is projected up and onto the wall...) Hers is a slow, pleasant progress through a fair, something so unlike the context of the plane she is escaping in her mind.
as our heroine flicks thourgh the pages of the in flight magazine, she lapses into reverie
she dreams she is in a hall of distorting mirrors.
we see her body twist and turn in the reflections.
her clothes seem to expand and contract as she steps gingerly forward looking to see when this all leads.
now and then we see one of her co-passengers; they too are transformed by the mirrors. one might be wearing an inflight face mask, another might be reading a novel or driniing a glass of wiine.
finally she takes a step and bumps into an airline stewardess who frowns at her.
has she been sleepwalking?
The actress wakes up from sleep suddenly, as if startled by a noise. The cabin is silent. She looks around. The lights are dimmed for the in-flight movie, but in the reflected flicker of the small screens we see the various faces of other passengers. A child is intensely manipulating a portable video game while his mother sleeps with a brocade satin eye mask. A white bearded businessman is passed out—mouth open—while his younger partner types a report on his laptop. At this last sight, the actress rolls her eyes and gets up to walk towards the lavatory.
As soon as she gets to the bathroom door the knob quickly shifts to the “occupied” position. She stands there for a minute and her eyes fall to the small screen of the passenger nearest her. It is a dramatic scene where a woman is crying and screaming at a man. She looks up at the passenger watching and notices her crying as well. Looking closer she realizes it is the same actress in the movie, and that she is crying watching her own performance. At this point the flight attendant asks her to return to her seat.
Now sitting, she rummages through the magazines she stuffed in pocket at the rear of the seat in front of her. She opens one of them and begins to flip through the pages. She stops at a picture of herself reclining on a velvet sofa, nude, with a man in a pinstriped suit leaning down to place a satin slipper on her foot. Feeling someone watching her she looks to her right and locks eyes with the gentleman seated across from her. He is also wearing a pinstriped suit. He glances down at the photo and back up at her. She looks back at him and shrugs.
She doesn’t even feel the tears running down her face although her lips are trembling. The final scene of Vivre sa Vie is playing with Anna Karina as Nana shot dead and left on the streets. On the model’s small dinner tray, the food is left untouched and cold as she pokes at it. She quickly turns her attention to other matters.
A magazine lies on the model’s lap and she flips through it until she reaches an editorial with another model’s image imprinted on the paper. Black chiffon gathers in waves around her legs and the bodice clings tightly to her breasts. She was beautiful.
The model’s eyes are sad. (A narration starts that states simply: “The model lived, and then she died. She couldn’t live anymore as a has-been with no more jobs, money, or self-respect” It pans back to the photo of the model). Fade to black.
She comes back to reality and decides to watch a moovie on her I-pod. Recently she always watches the same moovie: Belle de Jour of Luis Buñuel. She bought the novel of the moovie write by Joseph Kessel and even a book about the moovie to know how was the work behind the cameras.
Sometimes, she feels like Severine Serizy( Catherine Deneuve in the moovie), she would do anything to escape her life full of restrictions.
This story inspires her because it s full of contradiction like inside of her, like life: dreams and reality,surrealism and realism, symbolism and banality...
She opens her eyes, suddenly realizing she's back on the plane. The large projector in the main cabin is playing "It's a Wonderful Life". The scene in the movie is one she has seen countless times before. It's the scene where ZuZu Bailey recites the famous line, "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets her wings". We watch the part of the movie along with her, and suddenly the familiar "DING" of the airplane goes off. She looks up to see that the SEATBELT sign has been turned on, most likely due to coming turbulence, and smiles remembering her daydream.
Jill opens her eyes. A movie is about to begin on the plane. The majority of the lights are still dim.
The trailer for the classic ''Belle de Jour'' is projected on the plane's movie screen.
[NARRATOR] Jill loved the cinema. She had seen the film a million times, but could not resist the urge to watch it once more.
She brings her legs to her chest and hugs them tight.
Marie Antoinette is dancing across the plane’s movie screen followed by the two Marion’s dressed in the most plain YSL 24 collection. IN a close up of Nick’s eyes we see the three figures walk across his pupils. The plane disappears into a large cloud.
The Model scrolls down the screen until she finds ONE MILE HIGH. She dons the headphones.
A young and handsome couple make their way to the bathroom. Once inside they strip and start to have sex while a queue outside bangs on the door at the obvious noises. Inside, the Woman ties a necktie around the Man's neck and pulls tight.
WOMAN: It's better this way, darling. You'll never be bald and middle-aged.
The screen suddenly switches to a Company Logo.
ANNOUNCEMENT: We apologise for interrupting the adult movie, ladies and gentlemen but we are now beginning our descent to Paris.
She sits up, still tired, but not wanting to close her eyes again. The men gesture to her to come over to them, but she is pissed and doesn’t. They come over to her and flank her sweetly. An attendant rolls down a screen and dims the lights. Another comes by with some refreshments. The men feed her little bits of things, try to give her drinks… At first she resists, but she soon succumbs happily to their attention. Andy Warhol’s Beauty #2 mumbles lazily in the background.
The actress is sitting in her seat, watching the movie. She is just staring at the screen, without headphones. We notice that the in-flight film is an ordinary romantic comedy. On a large couch five twentysomethings are laughing and drinking lattes. All of the sudden the image cuts to scenes from the lavatory. The actress grabs her headphones and struggles to put them on quickly. On the screen we see all the passengers, for approximately two seconds or so. Images of people flossing, applying makeup, etc.. A few rows ahead two little boys with a laptop start giggling, obviously responsible for the practical joke. The flight attendant walks over and slams down the cover of their laptop just as the actress comes on screen. We see her in the lavatory, looking in the mirror. Then she opens the door to let a young gentleman in...
The plane is dim and calm despite the jerking pulls of turbulence. A flight attendant is pushing a well-stocked liquor-trolley through the bumps toward our sleeping Lady. The plane shakes violently. Our Lady wakes and is immediately caught up in the rising stir of the surrounding passengers. One man a few rows in front has already secured his life-vest over the top of his pin striped suit. A few women breath into bags.
A voice over the speaker system starts:
PILOT: Ladies and gentlemen. Please do not be alarmed by this mild case of tu/...
The voice cuts away. The flight attendant abandons her trolley and walks briskly toward the front of the plane. Our Lady looks over to the un-manned trolley, undoes her seatbelt and stands up before her seat. Her attention is caught by a large movie screen at the front of the aisle. Her made-up face fills the screen in a soft-focus closeup. Her character is crying, metres above a city on the ledge of a building. Hands grab at her and pull her into a blind embrace.
A female passenger across the aisle is devoted to the film. She pushes a tear back into her eye and sobs secretly. Our Lady slowly sinks into her seat again. She takes a wine from the trolley and fills her glass.
The movie is everywhere.
The movie is moving on every wall and on every surface and our model is a part of it through no choice of her own.
Characters yell at her, invite her in for tea, invite her out for swims, ask questions of her, and she can of course respond, but they cannot (of course) respond to her... They just keep on keeping on, including her in their every activity.
When finally she tires of what feels like torment, the characters subside, and she is left lounging on the floor in the middle of this vast projection: water rippling under her bare crossed calves.
A woman dressed in a strict black pantsuit and wearing gigantic black sunglasses is placing her "hand luggage" (just a plastic bag these days!) into the overhead locker. She feels angry, because the airport police didn´t allow her to board on the plane with her big black leather YSL duffle bag...but no liquids are allowed either?No parfums?? No!! Her mini-bottle of Opium was like oxygen to her! And the islamic terrorists don´t work for Vogue, so they don´t have enough style to use Opium!!.What a stupid thing! She couldn´t allow to smell like a normal woman. She needed her parfum so much. So, in a moment of desperation, she placed her mini-bottle of parfum inside her underwear.
Just some minutes before sitting down on her plane seat, she went to the airplane bathroom to wear a bit of Opium over her skin. She felt like a drug addict, but if the plane crew would see her with a liquid, she could get into trouble...
When she get out of that little box called airplane bathroom, a woman from the airplane crew stopped her:
-Excuse me Madam, what's that smell?
-Err..what are you asking for? It must be my parfum!
-Madam what´s that think you have coming out from your breasts? OH MY GOD!! MARY HURRY CALL THE POLICE!!! THIS WOMAN IS HIDING SOME KIND OF LIQUID ON HER BRA!!
-Hey, CHILL OUT!! It´s just a mini-bottle of Opium by Yves Saint Laurent! I am not a terrorist or something like that!
-TE-TE-TERRORIST?? PLEASE DON´T HURT ME!
-What are you talking about, you crazy woman?? Don´t you know Opium from YSL??
Suddenly a couple of police men with a big dog come into the airplane...
(To be continued...or not?)
Our heroine dons sunglasses and gets up to leave, opening the overhead locker to get her bag.
Bizarrely, an swirl of brightly coloured headscarves fall from the open locker.
A theatrically dressed young man in the seat behind taps her on the shoulder.
YOUNG MAN: I'm sorry. Those are mine. I'm a magician. My case must have burst again.
The magician begins to pick up the still-blowing scarves. Our heroine helps. The magician stuffs the scarves into his pockets, all except a sparkling white/gold one, which he waves in front of our heroine's face.
From under the scarf emerges an egg. The magician throws the egg in the air, swirls the scarf around it and it becomes a flower.
This he hands to our Heroine with a bow, then quietly leaves the plane.
Our Heroine is part bemused, part amused. She slips the flower in her buttonhole, takes her suitcase and follows.
Hands grab at a small cloth trolley bag that is sitting in the overhead locker, and it is placed on the floor. The wheels squeak ever so slightly as the model drags it along the carpet. Hordes of people chatter to each other and to themselves in the plane. She moves through the crowd unnoticed until she reaches the airport terminal.
Outside the terminal, she catches her breath for a second and sits in a cushioned chair. Pain reaches her ankles as she realizes that her four inch platform heels are digging into them, but the model decides not to change them.
A camera focuses to a leather folder with directions to the studio shoot. She gets up and tries to hail a cab to La Rive Gauche (the left bank) and several bright yellow cabs stop for her. When she is entering the cab, the model crushes a smoldering cigarette under her heels.
The plane has landed. She stands upe and open the overhead locker , her hanbag falls down and some things inside the bag too. She puts back the Homme YSL perfume inside , some notes of her in paper, a collection of poems of Edgar Poe, "Les Fleurs Du Mal" of Baudelaire, "Le Bateau Ivre" of Rimbaud, a magazine and the lithography she bought yesterday. She goes out of the plane as all eyes are turned towards her. She just looks the air hostesses and smiling and goes out of the plane.
The plane has landed. Everyone is still in their seats. Quite suddenly, the fasten seatbelt light goes dark. All the passengers (except the actress) jump to their feet and begin to open the overhead lockers to remove their bags. The actress stands up slowly, smoothes the front of her clothes, and places a manicured hand onto the button to release the locker door. Nothing happens. She presses again. A Gentleman smiles at her and offers to help. He presses the button. The door stays shut.
[Gentleman]: What did you put in there?
[Actress]: Just my coat.
[Gentleman]: (While struggling with the button) Must be some coat.
Just then the door flies open and a huge white fur coat flies out and covers both their heads.
Jill pulls her ‘downtown’ suitcase out of the compartment. She overhears one of the women on the plane...
[WOMAN TWO] What lovely luggage. (faintly to Woman One)
Jill has herself a wee smile. She puts on a dark pair of sunglasses and glides out of the plane.
A hand opens the overhead locker and pulls a green leather bag from it. We follow the bag back to the rear of the plane. The hand unzips it and begins to pull forth clothes. Linette smiles as the clothes emerge from Marion’s hand. In a few moments the sisters are covered with clothes. They laugh and giggle. An exasperated Nick looks on.
-“Who knew?” He sighs.
The plane lands with a jolt and sighs of relief from the passengers.
ANNOUNCEMENT: Please be careful when opening the overhead lockers. Thank you for travelling with La Mort Airways and have a pleasant day.
The Model waits until the plane empties, then puts her coat on. She snaps open the overhead locker and screams as a dead body with a bag over its head tumbles out. The Stewardess rushes up.
STEWARDESS: Don't alarm yourself, madam. George will deal with it.
Suddenly, your model is in a panic. She pats herself down, then touches the seat around her. The guys at her side try to find out what is wrong, but instead of telling them, she tears up. She walks from the couch to the window next to the screen, on which the projections are still running. She opens the window shade and looks out. Light streams into the cabin and fades part of the image on the screen. Then, inspired, she whips around and opens what appears to be an empty overhead locker. She fishes around inside and finally pulls out a ring. She is quite relieved.
The model finally arrives in time to begin with the photoshoot. She is going to be the star of the next YSL catalogue. A dream job for her!
The stylist is a friend of her, and he begins to talk to her in a discreet way:
[STYLIST]:(nervous):Darling!! I have a problem with this shoot!! You must help me, pleeeassee!!
[MODEL]:What´s the problem?? Tell me darling!
[STYLIST]:I was in charge of taking care of all the accessories for the YSL catalogue shoot...but they have disappeared!! If the YSL team knows about this, they would get mad at me! And they won´t hire me again!
[MODEL]:And what can I do for you?
[STYLIST]:Do you remember you once told me about a Chinese shop which was selling fake designer accessories? I just need to buy some rip-offs of all the accessories of the current collection...if not I am lost!!
[MODEL]: Are you nuts? Do you think the YSL team won´t notice that the accessories are not the authentic ones?
[STYLIST]:I hope not.It is the only thing I can do.Please help me!!!
The model finally goes to buy a bunch of counterfeit YSL accessories in the Chinese shop she knew very well of. Then, she returns to the studio, and the photoshoot begins...
Establishing Scene - The studio is busy preparing for the shoot. Hot music plays setting the tone. There is a light test going on. The Photographer and his Assistant Photographer (Assistant) work together flawlessly. Lights pop. Lights are moved. Light intensity is adjusted.
Dressing Room - The Hair/Make-up Artist (H/M artist) has just arrived. Setting up at the mirror.
Model - knocks on the door… nothing. She tries again… nothing. The song ends and they hear this time. The Assistant opens the door to a very humble looking girl. She wears no make-up, hair in a ponytail, simple jeans and a T-shirt.
Assistant: "Hi?"
Model: "Hi. I’m (name)."
Assistant - responds by opening the door giving her the once over. Takes her and introduces her to the photographer and make-up artist and leaves her in the dressing room. The model puts down her bag and drops in the chair.
The model enters the studio, it's very dark. We only can see the silhouettes of people here and there, moving and walking.
An arrow-shaped neon light comes on the floor, pointing forward.
The model takes a few steps, then another arrow comes on, she follows the arrows.
We see a figure walks past in front of the model. Suddenly a spot light comes on above the figure, revealing a person who holds up a new YSL dress on a hanger, poses bizarrely theatrical at us. A neon sign lights up next to the person, says "the stylist". Then the spot light and the sign go out.
We introduce the shooting team one by one in the same manner as the model follows the arrows. We see "the photographer" with a camera, "the designer" holding a pencil and a sketchbook, "the set designer" with a large prop, "the assistants" holding bits and pieces like pins, gaffer tapes, drinks and notes.
Now the model stands in front of a room, the last arrow flashes which, indicates the model to enter the room.
(The model has changed her clothes at the hotel already, and she is making her way to the shoot)
Hot and muggy, would be the only way to describe the warm Parisian weather. The model plays with a loose thread hanging from her grey cotton mini dress. Lights from the weathered buildings dance on the Seine, creating a glittering mirror image of the city. Flat sandals pitter-patter on the stone cobblestones as the model rushes to find the studio.
Couples hold each other close and watch the darkening night at the cafes. French music filters out of stores and into the model’s ear. Fresh bread from the boulangerie-patisseries is displayed in the window.
With a few more steps, the model reaches her designated location. It’s a large weathered building but only the first floor is used for the shoot. She makes her way inside and takes a look at her surroundings. Background rollers hold a white backdrop against the back of the rectangular room, and clothing is already hung on racks.
The photographer greets the model and kisses her on both cheeks. He welcomes her to Paris.
She just goes into the studio and sees that everyone inside seems to be doing something. She can feel the electricity in the air of a great day of shooting.
Stefano ,the artistic director comes to her:"- Hello model/actress name, how are you today?
- Very good thank you,so, what's the idea of the shoot today?
-It is very visual, very graphic,strong image! We made a three-dimensional painting of Mondrian. To make the black lines of the painting ,we put like rectangular scaffoldings and gelatines to put the red , the blue, the green and the yellow of the painting. All together, it makes like a cage of Mondrian."
She listens to him very interested and asks:"- Why Mondrian?
- It's just because the visual impact is strong and at the same time it has all the color idea of the season coming, graphic black and white , with touches of strong plain basic color. For YSL it has a meaning too, because the Mondrian and Poliakoff collection of the autumn winter 65/66 was the explosion of YSL in the fashion world."
By listening to some of this words the model/actress looked surprised. At the same time they are speaking , they are taking the direction of the hair and make-up.
(Camera is shooting far away)
Everybody on the scene is preparing their own part in the puzzle. The thing looks like this small ant society. Cameraman & couple of technicians are testing the flashes and other equipment. Hair & make up workers are drinking coffee and waiting. Wardrobe workers and Stefano seems to have quick brief going on, and couple of general assistants are working with minor general chores. They all have their own ‘nests’ to play in. In the middle of the scene seems to be this catwalk type of thing. It’s NOT a actual catwalk, but it looks like the space is left there for a reason.
The model walks in to this big studio hall from other end of the frame (and to the another end of this ‘catwalk’). It’s looking like she’s moving different pace than others (eye magnet of the scene). She stops for a while to look around and then continues. She stops approximately to the middle of this ‘catwalk’. Queen has arrived to the scene.
One ant after another the staff starts to gather around the queen. First there is couple of them. Hair & make-up measuring her with their eyes and touching her hair. Somebody familiar gives her couple of cheek kisses. Somebody goes back to pick up something and comes back to her. Wardrobe assistant measure her exact measurements. Photographer comes to greet him, stays by her side & keeps talking to her... More and more starts happening around the model. The ‘normal’ photo shoot preparing stuff. A peculiar thing is, that the people are moving almost like in lines when they are moving between a model and ‘their own nest’. Just like ants, but still in the way that it’s even partly natural moving to human beings... every group has their own path.
Model stands still on the middle in this queen Nefertiti type of pose; very elegant & peaceful, but very strong. Her back is stretched out and bowed little bit for the ‘negative angle’. She is hanging a flower in her hand, and she slowly smells it at one point when people are buzzing around her.
The relationship between models movements and the one happening around her is essential. It’s telling us that something special is about to happen. And how precious things our girl and what’s on her are.
As the whole scene is proceeding we don’t hear anything specific talking (or at least anything from the scene), just some background sounds (example like big talking crowd) or music.
At the end of the scene everything comes briefly back together to the same pace.
PHOTOGRAPHER AKA NICK (this is part of his continuing talking, but we get sound on just now):...ok, let’s do it.
Shot opens in front of big modern building from street view. The camera pans slowly round 360 degrees taking in first the North view of the street, the chauffer opening the door and the model stepping out of the car, the South view of the street and finally the shot comes back round to the original building where the model is entering and being greeted by photographer/stylists etc.
Close up shots of models shoes, handbag, clothing details as she is whisked through the entrance and into a lift. Lift doors close.
Shot is from models point of view, lift doors open up to a view of a huge room where the shoot is mid way theough being set-up. Lots of bright, almost blinding light and empty white space.
The actress is running into a building. She is obviously late. She gets to the elevator out of breath and presses the call button three or four times uselessly. We see the lights above blink from number to number as the elevator slowly descends. It finally arrives and she gets in and pushes the button for the seventh floor. Just as the doors are closing, a man pushes them back with his foot. He gets in and faces the front. He doesn't select a floor.
The doors open and they both get off together. She stops and begins to dig through her purse looking for the address. He walks ahead and enters one of the hall doors. Finding the address, she realizes that he has just entered the studio. She rings the door buzzer. He opens it to greet her.
[Photographer]: Hello (He introduces himself). You must be here for the shoot. A little late I see. (laughs) Don't worry about it. Let's get you to hair and makeup.
INT: Night - Busy Photography Studio - Milan
Sabrina walks into the studio, which is busy with people. She stands in the doorway and looks around the room. She waits for a large rail of clothing to pass her before stepping forward into the room. After the rail passes by, she see Jack standing in front of her with Lillian Delucci, an Art Director.
Welcome back to Milan Sabrina,’ Lillian says as she kisses her on both cheeks. ‘Thank you Sabrina,’ replies as she stares at Jack. ‘This is Jack, he is our photographer.’ Jack smiles at Sabrina as they shake hands, ‘We’ve..’ Sabrina starts to say before Jack interrupts, ‘Have worked together before, many years ago,’ Jack finishes.
Sabrina and Jack continue to stare at each other and smile as they keep their earlier meeting a secret.
Jill slips in the room. The art director, Henri, is at the door. He immediately grabs Jill's left hand with both of his and gives her a kiss on both cheeks.
It’s a long take as he gives her directions that we can’t hear.
We follow with them as he leads her across to the hair and makeup station.
[NARRATOR] Jill was exhausted, but there was something about creativity that always seemed to put her in a good mood.
Henri explains to her exactly what he needs from this shoot. He’s passionate. She nods her head as she takes off her earrings.
Like a circus introduction everyone enters from different doors, assistant’s carrying the clothes, lights, tripods, then Nick walks up to the two stylist. Then the camera zooms (POV) from the door opening and follows two heads into the busy crowd. Every motion stops as every eye stares at the camera. The twins smile and stare at each other. The crowd begins to clap.
In the studio, your model is walked down a hallway – also curiously blank in its décor, but with doors that open onto either side of her, in each of which stands a distinct technician. She is introduced to each of these people, but lingers with none of them until finally she meets the person with whom she will be shooting today. It is a woman who looks very much like her. Your model is, for a moment, unnerved, but the woman takes such unreserved interest in her that she reciprocates. They circle each other, looking one another up and down.
The scene shows a hall, with the sound of high heels knocking firmly the red floor,
while a female voice can be heard from above:
[voice]: I swear i'll never do that again, it is so teenager...well, doesn't matter,
i'm a complete and made lady and that doesn't do nothing to me.
the camera shows her.
She grabs a mirror, fixes a little her hair, opens a glass door (to an office) and talks to the secretary on the desk.
[secretary]: Hello, may I help you?
[model]: yes please dear, could you tell Leon that the model is here please?
[secretary]: (talking to her ambient voice receiver on table) Mr. L, the model is ...
The receiver call is suddenly interrupted and Leon appears at the hall inmediately.
[Leon]: Oh my god... you are gorgeous, as usual... there's some time we haven't met ah?
[Model]: Yes, really some time, but it's never late my dear Leon.
[Leon]: (To the secretary,who looks everything whit a little bitter in her eyes, but always smiling)
Tell everyone my model is here, prepare everything for the shooting.
Oh! another thing... whatever she needs... is a MUST ok?
Take it personal honey.
[secretary]: I sure will (cinically smiling, fixing her white-blonde hair, perfectly cutted)
(Leon grabs the model by her waist and takes her inside the studio, everything starts to move at the studio with the secretary calls to all the staff,
and the door closes behind leon and the model while the secretary keeps calling everyone... the shooting is about to start now she, has arrived)
They throw her into a dark, conical, mirrored pit.
The walls are so high she can't see out, but it is as of yet quite dark.
She is afraid. She begs for a light.
They comply, but the light they flick on is a ring of gas flame that rims the circular floor. It sheds light enough to show her that the floor is transparent, and that below the thick plexiglas ground is a cage with some caught beast circling and curious, just like her.
The mirrored walls around her reflect this new depth to infinity, so it seems she stands hovering between two infinite mirrored planes.
Now she asks that the light be put out, but no one answers. She waits and waits, then removes her shirt, ties it around her forehead and stalks about the pen, beginning to own this strange space.
She thinks she is alone. How long does it take before she is dancing furiously with her own reflection, stomping on the glass to get some reacion out of the beast below?
Location: 33 Old Bond Street, London.
No dialogue.
Wide shot, walking towards the camera - A quiet ambiance surrounds her as she walks through the streets of London. Ooozing feminity and sexual liberation, wrapped up in her given grey cashmere shirt dress, black platform shoes, black tights. Hands in pocket, large bag over her shoulder.
Close up - Her platform heels tapping at the ground gradually gaining speed.
Side profile/ Closeup - As she knocks on the door of 33 Old Bond Street, she awaits in solitude for someone, anybody... to answer the door, hiding the lack of sleep behind her wavey hair, side parted covering half her face. She gathers her composure by removing her hair from her face and bringing her bag to her side. She looks down, then up, smiles and walks out of frame.
Wideshot (whilst door is still open) - Her walking into distance with back to camera: the stylist, hair, make-up people, photographer greet her whilst pulling her off for hair and make up, takes off her shoes in the process.
H/M artist - Examines her bone structure, removes ponytail elastic and runs hands through her hair till satisfied and begins. H/M artist is obsessed with perfection and transforms the submissive model, till finished. We see the face go from naked, foundation, contouring, eyes, cheeks, lips and hair.
This scene is shot in one long take without dialogue. The finish product is a result of Jump Cuts, a la Nouvelle Vague.
H/M artist: transformation is complete. We have a diva. The H/M artist spins the chair around so the model can see herself in the mirror. "Voila!"
Model: smiles politely. "Merci."
She knows what she can look like with hair and make-up. She stands up and dresses.
Facing a mirror she sips water through a straw. She wears an old navy blue T-shirt, stretched out at the neckline and washed so many times it looks ready to fall apart. It is incongruous with her makeup - ladylike and flawless and perfect red lips. She doesn't look at her relfection, her mind elsewhere, comfortably in a daydream, perhaps.
Behind her, a stylist works on her hair.
They briefly make eye contact in the mirror.
stylist: He's in town, you know. I saw him last night.
She maintains contact for a moment, then looks away before looking back.
Model: I don't know who you mean.
The stylist's hands freeze, mid-brushing. He shrugs a little.
stylist: I'm almost willing to believe you.
She smiles, girlish.
model: My job is beauty. I don't want to think ugly thoughts.
stylist: At least you're not capable of ugly deeds.
She smiles again.
Model: C'est vrai.
He continues styling. She drifts back to her reverie.
Our beloved model is making 'funny' faces in front of the mirror. It seems like she is trying to get those expressions in rhythm with the music which is playing in background for mood setting purposes. She's quite clearly preparing herself for the up coming shoot.
The make-up artist & photographer are discussing in the background about something. We can't hear them clearly, but photographer is using quite expressive body language.
After a while the make-up artist approaches the model.
MAKE-UP ARTIST: MISS (name), are we ready?
MODEL: Disco.
MAKE-UP ARTIST: Great, let's get down to business.
Make-up artist begin his (or her) magic.
MAKE-UP ARTIST: Are you excited?
MODEL: Yes, very excited. First times usually are, aren't they? (referring to the fact that this is her first gig with YSL)
MAKE-UP ARTIST: Don't worry about it. You will be wonderful.(slight pause) Alright, today we are going to do you a special look. Young Edie Sedgwick meets Cathrine Deneuve at traffic lights kind of thing, with some royal elements thrown in the mix. Very edgy, strong & independent.
(Make-up artist continues his (or her) work constantly during the conversation).
Model kisses the air to show his excitement & readiness. After a she starts humming some song and when the make-up artist stops for a bit to look her face from further away she just sings (almost says it)...
MODEL: Boys get ready, the night is young. The shadow girls are on the run...
Make-up artist smiles and proceeds his (or her) work. Model is now fully still and looking herself at the mirror.
The model steps into a dark room, and the light comes on dazzling bright with “the make-up room” neon sign. There are a Japanese make-up artist and a Japanese hair stylist in uniform-like outfits, stand by the large dressing table, facing us. There is an enormous shiny cases placed beside both artists. Behind the dressing table, a smart Japanese man stands on a small podium-like platform, smiling at the model. He is Mr. Conductor. He gets down while says something to the model in Japanese and gestures “take a seat”, The model timidly sits down.
Mr. Conductor examines the model’s face, gives a few words to both artists in Japanese, the artists listen intensely. Mr. Conductor goes back to his podium, and nods to the artists. The artists open their cases at the same time, getting ready for action. Mr. Conductor raises his arms, holding a thin make-up brush in one hand like a baton.
Mr. Conductor conducts the brush along with an orchestral music, he gives the instructions to the artists in Japanese, and they start to work on the model. Mr. Conductor conducts passionately, the artists work rhythmically and the music plays dramatically, then Mr. Conductor swishes his brush one last time. The music ends, the artists stop perfectly at the same time.
Now we see the immaculately transformed model, looking at herself in the mirror, smiling. She is ready to rock.
The make-up artist come to her with arms open:"- Hello sweetheart!" she bursts out laughing seeing him and says:"-Helloooo!" and huggs him. The hairdresser comes to her too and says:"- Hello darling, i better start to dress your hair right now, we don't have much time left and you know how your hair is!"
She laughes again and says:"- It depends if it's like the last time!" he answers:"-No it's just a clean chignon so let's go!".
During she's getting ready, she takes the Belle de Jour book of Joseph kessel and starts to read it. The make-up artist sees it and asks:"-like the moovie??"
She watches him with doubfull eyes and says:"-Yes ,it's very strange, I'm obssessed with that moovie lately, i feel related i don't know why...and now Stefano tells me something about the Mondrian collection of winter 65/66 and 66 is the year that the moovie went out!" The make-up artist continues his work and answers:"- Coïncidences, life is made of that..."
Stefano comes in to see if she isready and adds:"-66 is the year that Catherine Deneuve and YSL knew each other and start their collaboration too; he did the costumes of Belle de Jour by the way...but I was coming to tell you that we are ready to shoot!"
She looks at him with big eyes learning all this and follows him to the stage.
Light touches of foundation strokes the model’s face while she sits in front of a mirror patiently. Hair is slicked back away from her with gel, and left in intricate twists and turns in the back. Lips are left nude with a hint of pink stain from the YSL lip twins. Eyes have a hint of black liner and golden eyeshadow. Cheeks are defined with peach blush tones. Instead of creating thin brows, the model’s brows are filled in with pencil and left thick. The look is modern, minimalist, and suggestively sauvage.
The model is led to a fashion stylist who hands her a black wool turtleneck trapeze dress, sheer black satin tights, and black pumps with a wooden heel. She moves to the clothing racks and grabs a leather Rive Gauche handbag. Everything is worn together by the model.
Before she can be photographed against the backdrop, Stefano Pilati inspects the fit of the clothes on her body. He gives a nod of approval and muses partly to himself, “Now this is the spirit of Yves Saint Laurent! There is not much color, but who wears colors anymore?”
The action is undercranked. Hairdressers, stylists and makeup artists frantically jitter around Jill, who is as serene as possible. She yawns.
She goes from her natural beauty to a mysterious look, utterly chic.
Close up as she practices in the mirror. She takes a breath and puffs out her chest. Chin up, mouth slightly ajar. She studies her lipstick.
A set of hands reaches into the frame and sprays a mist of perfume on her neck.
The hair and makeup artist are putting the finishing touches on the actress’ look. Just as they complete it, a series of fast cuts moves through about 20 different hair and makeup combinations and assorted expressions. The effect is disorienting. Finally, it stops on the one look that she will carry over into the next scene.
A double decker bus passes down Piccadilly Circus, London. The camera follows a pair of YSL shoes into a shop then halts on a large photo of Jean Shrimpton standing by Yves Saint Laurent this cuts to a stylist fingers twilling Marion’s hair then zooms out to her face then pans over to the artist applying makeup to Linette’s face the camera continues to-
The shot is of your model’s face only as she goes through hair and make-up, resemling, of course, Warhol’s Screen Tests. The camera does not move, but people move in and out of the shot as need be. When the hour is up, your model opens her door onto the hallway and is faced with the other woman doing exactly the same thing. They both feel spooky, as though looking into a mirror.
Close up on the face of a peacock. It moves its head back and forth in response to something out of frame. We hear the photography assistant’s voice.
[Assistant]: No. Forget it. He doesn’t like that one.
We see the actress seated in a swivel chair nearby. She is surrounded by the fashion team. They quickly change her look, then spin her back around to face the peacock. He fans his tail.
[Actress]: (Looking up at the assistant) Well, that’s it then.
Many many people. A room - perhaps that mirrored pen - so full that one can hardly move, let alone apply eyeshadow. They stand at attention like some Vanessa Beecroft installation, but face to face. Still.
On a beat, each holds up a tool, and begins to work on his or her neighbor.
At first this is mechanical, orderly, if awkward, due to lack of space.
Then it is a frenzy of application. They cannot even keep track of their subjects, nor can we. We watch from above. Can we even find our model?
The camera sinks into the crowd and pushes through bodies. There is no horizon, no ground, just chests and arms that give way like some slow sea.
We find her slouched in the corner, escaping the onslaught, passing her finger back and forth through the ring of fire that surrounds this crew, staring at the beast below the plexiglas pit, wishing herself out of here, but gracefully.
A make-up brush slowly approaches the camera, as if in the vision of the model. It is coated in powder. The screen blacks out - as she closes her eyes.
Powder explodes on the screen, and dances in the blackness.
Vision is restored as the girl reopens her eyes. Figures pass in front of her, blurred by her hair which now hangs in front of her face.
The sound is muffled - a mixture of the base of the music playing in her ears and the background noise of people talking softly and objects clattering against one another.
One voice punctuates the fuzziness:
voice: What do you want? (directed to the model)
model: I dont know..
Her hair - or extensions - is being sculpted into an amorphous shape. The camera focuses on the model, who is staring into space, the background is blurred. Waves of makeup swirl gracefully and explode onto the girl softly and end up applied neatly onto her face. She blinks once or twice and then closes her eyes.
The girl stands up slowly and is flooded by white light. THe camera moves around to see her in profile.
Not really sure how this would be introduced but rather than write dialogue I'd like to intoduce a prop/method .
Maybe this prop, a dossier of strategies, could be introduced at the overhead locker scene, covertly planted in the model's luggage? Or a dossier switch ? She had already recieved her instructions at the fitting, but these are switched on the plane ?
I'm suggesting a series of instructions and references which inform the attitude taken by the model while being photographed. For example :
a compact disc of different sounds which the model has to interpret through dance or expression
a series of images where the model is instructed to assume positions depicted therein
a series of instructions for interactions with pre-assigned props.
It's a bit like the Generation Game, but no conveyor belt.
These instructions should remain unkown before the shoot.
The exception would be that the prop stylist would need to be advised as to the props needed for interaction scenes.
She arrives on the stage and gets such a surprise because of the props. She looks at Nick and says:"- Wow, it is really like a three-dimensional Mondrian ! How great! So, what do we do?"
Nick explains her:"-So, you go inside the structure, you can use the structure to do the pose. I would like something energic and graphic with the posetoo, use the perpendicular and parallel lines , follow them with your body.Give me as much options as you can , feel free to moove as you feel!"
She gets inside the structure and starts to find many poses, she goes behind the gelatines, uses the black lines of the structure, she hangs to the sructure. Nick is feeling great with the shooting ,she mooves so well he sometimes says :"Stop here , that's perfect!"...
After one hour of shooting non-stop just changing outfits, nick says:
"- It's Ok , i've got it, let's do some make-up and hair retouching, we start back in 10 minutes."
He goes with Stefano in the direction of the ahir and make-up.
Model and H/M artist - emerge from dressing room.
Assistant - walks over and escorts model onto set.
Photographer - adjusts camera, looks through camera and begins.
Photographer: gives direction from behind the camera.
"Look here." He points.
"Lift chin … Good."
Model – finds her groove.
Photographer: "Ah … Beautiful."
And the rhythm begins. The photographer-model dance is in full swing.
The camera circles the set beyond the180 degree axis.
Assistant - stands by, off set, watching intently, entranced. It will become clear that the Assistant is a fashionista.
H/M artist - intensely looking for any flaws.
Assistant - for a brief second, takes his eyes off the set and glances past the H/M artist.
Cameo appearance - Pilati standing back from the set by door.
Assistant – sees, Stephano Pilati, who must have let himself in.
Assistant looks at the photographer who is engrossed in what he is doing – then to the model. Both are hard at work and unaware of Pilati. The Assistant looks at the H/M artist, who’s eyes are locked on the model.
Assistant: (turns to camera and asks us) "How long has he been standing there!"
Assistant - launches into a "full flap." Cutting between the H/M artist and the set, arms in wide animation, sounds the alarm.
Assistant: "Stephano Pilati!"
Realizing that a first name basis may be too presumptuous.
Assistant: "Monsieur!"
The shooting stops. All eyes turn to Pilati.
Lighting crew swing two large spotlights towards the model/actress standing against a crisp white backdrop in the studio. Her tiny frame adrift in a vapid sea of white.
She looks out, squinting through the light, at the crowd of assistants, and crew gathering before her to begin the shoot. We hear nothing but clicks, and shuffling, as the shoot is about to begin.
The photographer makes his way forward from the light; Handsome, dressed in black, aviators.
He makes his way towards her; her head looking down, she looks up at him. He smiles, and touches her hair, softly bringing a strand behind her ear. She rubs her cheek along the backside of his hand- movements so subtle no one else in the room has noticed.
PHOTOGRAPHER: (whispers) Are we ready?
MODEL/ACTRESS: I'm always ready.
PHOTOGRAPHER: I thought you were going to be in Paris?
MODEL/ACTRESS: (playfully) I am in Paris.
She tossed her hands up through her hair and into the air, laughing, giving a spin.
With satisfaction, he a claps his hands together.
PHOTOGRAPHER: Alright, people! Lets get started here!
There is a hushing amongst the crowd, and the photographer makes his way to table of props, making his way back towards the model with his hands behind his back.
MODEL/ACTRESS: A present? (sly) I hope it wasn't too expensive.
He pulls out a luscious white ostrich feather.
PHOTOGRAPHER: This is you- like a feather now.
She smiles.
PHOTOGRAPHER: Great.
He throws the feather in the air and marches behind the camera.
We see an inverted view of the model on the camera lense as she settles into her first pose.
PHOTOGRAPHER: Wonderful.
We follow with a montage of the shoot. The camera in one place as cuts are made to each dynamic pose a la Antonnionni's Verushka shoot in Blow Up. Dialogue throughout continuing in the spirit of: "Give it to me!", "Like that!", "Yes! Yes!", "There we have it!", "More! More!", "I like it!" etc.
The space for the photo shoot is marked off by a large roll of purple paper hung from the ceiling. The paper falls across the back wall and along the ground. We see that someone has crudely painted Y-S-L in black as a backdrop.
In the center of the room six or seven mannequins are quietly standing, as if waiting. The faces, with their painted makeup and smiles, date to different decades. We see one who is terribly sixties, another tall and athletic from the seventies, a glossy silver one with no face from the eighties. All of them have on wigs in the style of the actress' hair.
In walks the actress in kimono dressing gown. The shoot begins.
She walks up to each mannequin and begins to take off pieces of their YSL clothing. She seems as if she is apologizing as she undresses them. She takes a hat, a coat, poses in their stance, then puts it back on. Continuing like this she moves around the room posing. Finally, she undresses the last mannequin, and kisses her on the lips leaving a large red stain in place of her non-existent mouth. She rests cheek to cheek with her. Last image.
Rapid clicks from the photographer’s camera fill the studio space and we see the interaction between the model and the photographer. He asks her to move closer to camera and relax her shoulders. She immediately stiffens up more against the white backdrop. Uncertainty is written all over the model’s face. The photographer stops shooting and reassures the humiliated model.
Slowly, a model is transformed between the hot lights surrounding her. The model’s posture becomes straighter, her face stronger, and her movements work together in one continuing line. More clicks come from the camera and the model feels like beaming. Watching all of this, Pilati takes a look at the photos streaming onto the Apple computer nearby. Pilati calls for the photographer to stop the shoot as he is suddenly struck by a new inspiration.
The stereo blasts a song by Teiji Ito.
The set is very exotic. A mixture of African and Oriental cultures with ebony masks, animal prints, amazing silk, bamboo and futuristic neon lighting.
Jill sits in a chair with her head back and hand on her neck. She moves her head right and left in slow motion like a snake.
The photographer takes several shots.
She's spellbinding.
Two thin figures slowly walking, out of focus cut to flashes and we are in the shoot. The camera emerges from a cylinder (lens barrel) to Nick’s eye. Across the eye the twins walk and then the camera pans across 24 different outfits and then follows two sets of calves to the center of the studio. The clothes fly on them and then the camera crew begins to swirl around them with lights, and stylist touches then Nick firing the camera. The camera pans then slows down at a junction where the twins are changing morning clothes to afternoon then follows a series of stills.
Your model stands in a room in front of bright tungsten lights. The walls are mirrored and confusing. She closes her eyes, and when she opens them, she sees the other woman across from her. She is mildly confused as to whether the girl is her own reflection or not. Stefano Pilati enters the shot to adjust something on her body. She is happily distracted by him, and convinced of her own individuality because the other girl is not being adjusted. She is relieved and grasps Stefano’s face. He tries to calm her down but she shakes her head in the direction of the other girl.
Along an extremely long white wall, large sized glass cubes are stacked against each other like children’s building blocks. We see a dizzying stair effect created when some of the cubes are placed higher than others. Some of the cubes glow from fluorescent blue illumination. It’s like a child’s twisted dream. Edition 24 lights up against the wall in large letters. The camera pans to the model standing casually on one end of the boxed cubes. She is wearing a white men’s shirt, sheer black satin tights, and black platform heels. Her eyes are covered by dark round sunglasses, and a smoldering cigarette is held in her hands. Suddenly she walking and climbing along the cubes while wobbling precariously on her heels.
In slow motion, she is falling into glass cubes and they shatter. Not a single drop of blood is spilled along the way, but the glass shards are paused in midair. The model’s still face is zoomed into and we see the reflection of the glass in her sunglasses. Laughing sounds fill the empty space and we see the video rewind backwards to the model standing upright. She continues to walk along the cubes and suddenly a man out of frame runs toward her. Dressed in a sharp midnight blue Rive Gauche suit, he tries vainly to grab her waist but she escapes away from her. She looks towards him with a smirk and brings a cigarette to her lips and blows a ring towards his direction. The chase is on.
Only shots of the models’ shoes are shown clicking against the glass running towards something and nothing. Tapped by Skream plays in the background as their game continues on. Finally, the male model catches up to her and brings her towards him for a kiss, but his image on video flickers like a hologram and then he fades away. With the model’s long legs crossed together as she leans against the wall, she throws down her cigarette and fades away like a hologram as well. A closing shot shows the only real object in the shoot, which is the cigarette leaving burn marks against the glass.
The studio is set up like an elegant restaurant. Tables with white linen tablecloths are positioned around a center point. Here, hanging from the ceiling by a thick gold chain, a golden cage swings very slightly back and forth. The team leads the actress into the set-up. They help her climb into the cage in her evening gown and shut the door with a large padlock. She settles in, arranging her limbs to stick out of the bars at various points.
[Photographer]: Comfortable?
[Actress]: Quite.
There are two model’s in this scene. The first is the model, the second (2nd model) represents her true inner thoughts and feelings. The 2nd model's dress, hair and make up is the same as the model's. If twins are not available, the 2nd model is more beautiful than the first, representing her strong self image. The 2nd model moves in tandem with the model. It will be clear what is happening when the 2nd model starts voicing/acting out the model’s thoughts.
Model, 2nd Model and H/M artist - emerge from dressing room.
Assistant - walks over and escorts model(s) onto the set.
Model - takes her position.
2nd Model - is behind her like a shadow. She is clearly visible.
Photographer - adjusts camera, looks through camera and is slow to begin.
Model -begins moving.
2nd Model: moves along with model. Talking directly to photographer, "Shoot already, I saw what I look like. I Am Gorgeous!"
Photographer: gives direction from behind the camera. "Look here." He points.
Model – follows instructions all photographer’s instructions.
2nd Model: "This is going to be great for my portfolio!"
Photographer: "Lift chin"
2nd Model: " Ta da! This looks so good I just know it!"
Photographer: "Good. Now try moving to give the outfit more life."
Model – finds her groove.
And the rhythm begins. The photographer-model dance is in full swing.
The camera circles the set beyond the180 degree axis.
2nd Model : grooves along. Starts singing, "Baby you can drive my car
Yes I'm gonna be a star."
Photographer: "Ah … Beautiful."
2nd Model: "I like this guy. Good feedback. (Continues singing) And baby I love you."
Model – makes bigger movements and finally tries a pirouette. In her mind she is a dancer. She stumbles a bit.
2nd Model: nails the turn beautifully. Her grace and beauty shine. "Wait till my agent sees this shot. I am going to get so much work from this!"
Photographer: to model, "Hang on a second."
Photographer stops the shoot. Motions to his Assistant to come over.
Assistant - standing by, off set, watching intently. Hurries over.
Photographer: "Something isn’t right."
2nd Model: "What is he talking about? I am perfection!"
H/M artist – hurries over, intently looking for any flaws. Applies powder.
Assistant - for a brief second, takes his eyes off the set and glances past the Photographer.
Cameo appearance - Pilati standing back from the set by door.
Assistant – sees, Stephano Pilati, who must have let himself in.
Assistant looks at the photographer who is engrossed in what he is doing – then to the model. Both are unaware of Pilati. The Assistant looks at the H/M artist, is touching up hair.
Assistant: (turns to camera and asks us) "How long has he been standing there!"
Assistant - launches into a "full flap." Cutting between the H/M artist and the model, arms in wide animation, sounds the alarm.
Assistant: "Stephano Pilati!"
Realizing that a first name basis may be too presumptuous.
Assistant: "Monsieur!"
All eyes turn to Pilati.
All move off the set, all but the model and 2nd Model.
2nd Model: "I could just die… Stephano Pilati, live and in person! Wow, and look at me. I look gorgeous in his latest creation. Stunning! She starts moving and grooving again. "Beep beep'm beep beep yeah"
Model – is still all the while. She looks down at herself then over towards everyone.
Doubt creeps in.
2nd Model: suddenly stops moving. Insulted, "What did he mean something is wrong? What could be wrong! I fill the dress in all the right places don’t I? (She gives herself the once over.)
I took care of everything…
Brushed teeth – Check"
Fresh breath. (Does a breath check with hand.) – Check.
Scrubbed head to toe. – Check.
Manicure. (Checks hands.) - Check
Facial hair. (feels chin) - Check.
Blew my nose, no boogers – Check.
It’s not me." (Sighs and Smiles)
Both Model and 2nd Model land a perfect pirouette.
2nd Model: "Beep beep'm beep beep yeah!"
The model is back to hair and make-up.
She's beyond upset, but smiles professionally when Sam Mc Knight starts pullling this ridiculous catherine-deneuve-in-les-demoiselles-de-rochefort-like puffy blond wig.
Nick's assistant checks out on her.
- the model:
"Catherine Deneuve!!! I looove this idea."
Pilati walks on the set and adjusts the model’s clothing dramatically.
Photographer: (under his breath) "Of Course."
The look and mood change direction flawlessly. Shooting continues. All eyes are on the set except for the Assistant’s who can’t take stargazing eyes off Pilati.
Assistant – realizing Pilati, is consumed with the image, attempts to turn attention to the set. Eventually looks back - Pilati is gone.
Assistant – looks behind, on the other side, everywhere – Palati is indeed gone. Disappointment registers.
Shooting continues and wraps.
Model - leaves the set and heads to the dressing room. She begins to undress.
Assistant - happily folds down lights with a smile of satisfaction.
Photographer: notices his assistant’s glee. "What," he asks the assistant.
Turning to H/M artist, "What," he nods head toward his assistant.
Assistant: "Huh? Nothing." Continues to tear down, a smile slowly creeping back.
Contained shrieking from the dressing room.
Model: "My face! My face!
Everybody runs to the dressing room.
Model - in underwear and top only.
H/M artist: What’s wrong? What?
Model: My face! It’s … It’s on fire!"
H/M artist: "Let’s get your make-up off. Now!"
H/M artist works quickly removing make-up.
"How’s that?"
Model: "Still too Hot!"
Photographer: turns to assistant "There’s cold water in the fridge.
Assistant - runs off.
H/M artist - continues with model’s face as photographer looks on.
Model takes a break and walks over to mirror to adjust clothing, et al. As she reaches around for various cosmetics, et al to do her touchups, we see in the mirror she is facing the image of her face, head, and arms gradually morphing/turning into the face and head of a peacock with the hands (depending on whether the garment she is modeling has long or short sleeves or is sleeveless) turning into feathers.
Model looks directly into the mirror.
Model: "Are you playing with the
Mirror: "How are you, dear? Would you like to try on the voice?"
Model: "Sure but as you know, they usually only buy a minimum of senses"
Mirror: "Why should the eyes have a corner on beauty?"
Model/peacock begins to stroke neck and move mouth as if to begin vocal warm ups against her wishes.
Out of the mirror comes a hand with a beautiful stylish gorgeous glove and luxe jewelry (a big ring or 2 and bracelets). The hand reaches out as if to extract the model's voice from her throat.
Cut to long shot view through the window of the studio/dressing area of the "hand mirror" coaxing the model to sing. As the hand conducts and coaxes her voice, a million gems and luxurius products from the model's mouth as camera zooms out. The sound is of an entire aviary of birds modulated so that they lay on top of each other just slightly apart. Maybe mix in some Piaf.
Nick and Stefano are speaking together about the shooting in the hair and make-up room. Stefano says: "- I think it's great, visually speaking ,very graphic, impactant you're right, but it is true that it's maybe just too much visual, you know what i mean. I mean, i see the YSL woman more with a inside world, something deeper mysterious..."
Nick listenswatching the floor and says:"-Yes, i see what you mean, maybe we should mix this images with black and white pics of close ups of the model/actress name. We need something mysterious you're right, a woman with more inner world not just an image."
Suddenly Nick realises that is speaking in front of the model actress and says:"- Oh! I'm not talking about how you do it! You're just doing great!"
The model/actress laughs and says:"- It's ok , don't worry, I was listening , but i think that i maybe have one idea to find something that matches this pictures we just did with something deeper and mysterious like you just said: lately, i've been reading a lot of Belle de Jour and i just learnt today that Catherine Deneuve and YSL met in 65 and he made the costumes of the moovie, the same year he made the Mondrian collection.
We could mix this two sides of his work in 65 , the graphic impact of the Mondrian with the inner mysterious world in black and white of Severine Serizy. You just have to put a white square cube with the size of a bed and a white sheet to do the bed of Severine and.....Look!I found this lithography yesterday in Paris of the Christ of Grunenwald, that is the only thing that the censorship of 1966 cut into the moovie it was considered a too hard image.
It would be for us like completing what's missing in the moovie, it would be surreal, deeper and something related to religion and Stefano already used the religion costume as inspiration!!... So...What do you think?"
Nick looks at Stefano that says: "- That's just great i think"
Nick says:"- Great!! so i have to change the Mondrian structure by the white cube and the sheet and place the lithography of the Grunenwald Christ into the scene! I go to the stage, we have to change the hair and the make-up like in Belle de Jour! Everybody ready in 15 minutes!"
The photographer enters the scene and begins to walk around. He's looking at everything except the actress.
[Actress]: What's wrong?
[Photographer]: Everything, darling. Well, except you. I mean, all this (gestures around the room) is fabulous. But it's just not right. I just need to find a new direction.
He absentmindedly picks up a very ornate women's scarf and wraps it around his neck, thinking.
His assistant walks into the frame. The assistant is dressed like a caricature of a sixties swinger, complete with Yves' black glasses.
[Assistant]: Why don't we use the projector? Films, I mean. She's an actress after all.
The photographer looks quickly at the assistant as if he's never seen him before, then returns to his thoughts.
[Photographer]: Brilliant. (pauses, then yells) Well get going why don't you!
There is a scramble to set back up the shot. The next sequence is the actress standing in front of a film scene featuring Alain Delon. She begins to move and interact with the scene.
[Photographer]: Gorgeous.
Henri, the art director, takes her to the side. He enthusiastically explains a new direction.
[HENRI] Now... I want you to imagine that your husband has been killed in the war... you cared very deeply for him. And you never got to say your goodbyes.
She bites her lip.
Both the photographer and Pilati discuss the new direction passionately. Instead of posing against a blank background, Pilati convinces the photographer to shoot her on the streets of Paris. He feels that the studio shoot is too stilted and posed. Something else is needed for Yves Saint Laurent, more spontaneity and rebellion.
Only the model, photographer, and Pilati exit out to the dark streets of Paris. We see that the model’s hair is the same except her eyes have a darker hint of shadow to it. She is wearing nothing underneath her tuxedo jacket and black straight cut trousers. Black slingback shoes complete the look.
Bright blue strobe lighting illuminates the model from behind her stance in the Parisian cobblestone street. Streams of the blue light contrast from the warm yellow lighting of the shops, and the black night. She walks briskly down the street looking confident while the camera clicks away. The photographer feels the raw electric energy of the scene and voices his complements. She keeps walking towards the camera. (The video cuts off at this point)
Break time, the studio has a relaxed atmosphere, the model is having a lively chat with a few people. The model’s mobile rings, she checks the screen, looks a little surprised. She doesn’t answer the call.
Model: Just going to the toilet.
Her mobile rings again as she leaves the room.
The photographer comes back from the outside, he sees the model going in to the prop room and follows her.
In the prop room, he finds her standing in front of a large mirror, looking fiercely at herself, trying to hold back her tears. She hasn’t noticed the photographer.
Model: (into mirror) Don’t call back, don’t you call back! He is lying, he doesn’t love you, he hurts you, be strong, don’t call back, don’t call back. Don’t you go back!
The model is clearly in a great pain, the photographer almost feels her pain by looking at her, and he leaves the room quietly.
After a while, the model comes back, she looks as if nothing happened, smile in her face as she always has been. The photographer observes her in surprise.
Photographer: Inside and outside, light and shadow, opposite images in one person… Hey! Bring me big mirrors! We have a new direction!
Marion falls back and suddenly she is in the arms of 24 semi-naked men (like a Busby Berkeley musical) followed by Linette and the clothes change with each musical transition finally to evening wear-where in a swirl of clothes the twins emerge in beautiful soft light.
The other girl is seated on the outskirts of the shot with the Rhodesian Ridgebacks. The men have given her the leashes. They walk into the light and they begin to attend to the model. Nick Knight is in this frame, photographing himself among all of the other characters. Some of the assistants in this shot are quite colorful – a pregnant woman holds a sign with text from which no one seems to read.
The hair and makeup team rushes in, surrounding the actress. We loose sight of her. As they dissipate, the photographer gets ready for the shot. She starts to pose. Then, suddenly, she closes her eyes and sticks out her tongue. We see the YSL logo in black written on her eyelids and in her mouth.
Assistant Photographer - arrives with arms over full of water bottles.
Photographer - realizing this won’t work, runs off for a large bowl and cloth.
H/M artist - tries to dab cold water on model’s face with small make-up sponge, then a Kleenex. It’s not working.
Photographer - returns with a large bowl, sets it on the table and fills bowl with water, and hands cloth to H/M artist.
Model - doesn’t wait … she begins splashing water on her face a few times. Water flies. She is splashing like a duck in desperate measure. She stops for a second.
Photographer and H/M artist: "Well?"
Model: "Better but still warm."
H/M artist - searches bag to find face soap. Hands it to the model.
Model - lathers and splashes until soap is gone.
H/M artist - pours bottled water onto cloth over bowl and continues to rinse the model’s face. She stops.
All: lean forward waiting for the models response.
Model: hesitates, "Um, I think that worked."
All: sigh.
H/M artist: pulls out moisturizer. Speaks to nobody in particular. "I just bought this 2 weeks ago." Proceeds to cream models face.
Model - turns to mirror to examine her face. She looks at every inch not sure what she will find.
Photographer: to model. "Well?"
Model: "OK"
All - are relieved.
Photographer- stands contemplative.
Assistant - watching.
H/M artist: does a thorough examination. "OK?"
Model - nods agreement, stands up, and starts dressing.
Photographer and Assistant - leave the room.
During she is getting ready for the second part of the shoot, her agent comes in and brings her a package that just arrives for her at the studio. The model/actress takes it in her hands without paying attention because she stills speaking with the hairdresser about what just happened: "-What did i tell you before !! There's no coincidences! You see ,I tell you something and finally everything gets related! That's just crazy!"
The hairdresser laughs with her as he's dressing her hair as Catherine Deneuve in Belle de Jour and says:"-Yeah! you're right , i was thinking :she's just crazy and look now! ( laughs) Look at your hair! You are like in the moovie! Now you're going to be a bourgeoise,Madame, unsatisfied with her life!" And they burst out laughing. Suddenly Nick enters and says :"-Two minutes on the stage!"
The hairdresser answers with a funny voice: "- We're ready!"
And the model/actress laughs again, she was going to stand up, when she suddenly remembers the package she has on her leggs, her face expression changes to seriousness and opens the package, it's a bottle of l'Homme of YSL with a letter under the bottle... She makes a hint of a smile and whispers:"-So sweet..." .
The hairdresser sees the perfume and says to her:"- Darling! What's that gift! You should tell the person who sends you that ,that you can have millions of them! You are at a Saint-Laurent shooting! I go to the stage , i wait you there."
She opens the letter and starts to read it, suddenly her face changes like if someone just hit her in the stomach, she watches herself in the mirror looking very far, she is like paralized.
Suddenly a voice comes from the stage and awakes her from this state of choc:"-Miss model/actress name, we are waiting for you! (laughs) Show must go on!"
A trendy sushi restaurant in Manhattan. Because the actress is not in this scene, it is shot in black and white.
Inside the restaurant the lights are dark and the interior is like a nightclub. We are at the back near the kitchen. The staff looks exhausted. They are all very young, and very attractive.
The phone on the wall rings. The waitress answers it.
[Waitress]: Sushi Noir. How may I help you?
(inaudible answer)
[Waitress]: Right. The usual (nodding and motioning towards a young devastatingly handsome redheaded waiter). Will send it right away. 20 minutes.
Cut to the inside of the studio. The redhead arrives. The assistant pays him and takes the sushi. The redhead turns to leave, but the studio assistant stops him. He grabs him by the arm.
[Assistant]: No. Wait. They need you inside. Don't worry. There's a big tip in it for you.
Jill stands frozen in a pose.
Teiji Ito blasts from the stereo.
She moves in slow motion, clasping for the wall behind her. Dramatic lighting frames her face.
A fan blows her hair.
A single tear falls from her eye.
Tired and drained from the late shoot the model/maid sits at the top of the wrought iron fire escape at the back of the studio, her bare feet dangling through the bars. She still has her hair up but she is wrapped in the photographer’s baggy cardigan, her high heels at her side. She swings her feet gently to let the air cool them and yawns. She looks down at the alley beneath her, illuminated by the lights from the studio. A group of teenagers are cheering on one of their friends as he works at a piece of graffiti. They suddenly run and scatter as a moped pulls in to the alley. The moped stops and the young driver yells after the graffiti artist.
‘Don’t you want this?’ he says picking up an abandoned spray can.
The artist stops and turns to catch the can which the cyclist tosses to him.
‘Nice work,’ the cyclists adds, admiring the tag.
‘Thanks.’
The artist runs off in to the dark.
The model watching from above, moves her hand and accidently knocks one of her high heels off the fire escape.
‘Watch out! ‘ she warns.
The cyclist dodges just in time as the shoe lands at his feet .
‘I’ve a delivery for you,’ he says, ‘will you come down or should I come up?’
‘You come up. I’m exhausted. I’m just ready for my bed.’
He takes a parcel from the back of the moped and begins to climb towards her.
‘It’s only midnight. The night is young,’ he says passing the model a clip board for her signature before handing over the parcel.
She looks at the box, no clues, so she opens it to reveal a stunning cocktail dress.
The deliveryman glances back up at her holding the dress to her body.
‘Lovely. You can’t turn in now,’ he says and takes a matchbook from his pocket.
He passes it to her and climbs back down into the alley. The model turns the matchbook over in her hands and sees the address of a cocktail bar on the back.
As the cyclist starts his moped he calls up to her,
‘New York, a new frock, cocktails. Who needs sleep?’
INT. STUDIO SET - 24:00
The photographer has been a little uneasy during the whole shoot. It’s because he hasn’t got his killer shot yet. The mood is reflecting to everybody on the set. It’s nothing like everything is going wrong state of mind, more like a waiting the right prince charming in discomfort. Standing in one posture each, not moving & having firm expressions on their face.
Photographer stops the shooting for a moment and walks to the model who is standing in the middle of this huge city composition. He doesn’t say anything to her, just fixes couple of details on her. But it’s looking like he isn’t touching her at all. Just conforms the figures of the model with his hands. Just like the way Marcello is doing Sylvia in La Dolce Vita (classic movie) Trevi-fountain scene. It’s like peeling of the layer of stiffness and unveiling the true attitude inside.
Photographer stops like he’s finished his movements. Looks deeply to the models face one more time and walks back behind his camera. Suddenly something happens, the model connects her appearance with the set background & the whole new idea. She revolves couple times 360 degrees and starts making these queen of the street poses one after another. Flashes starts flashing. Everybody on the set wakes up. It’s like their senses born again like Phoenix (egyptian mytology; the magical bird, which symbolises the fire and divinity - “Tears of a phoenix can heal the wounds”).
PHOTOGRAPHER (during the shooting): Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.
Then we start seeing these black flashes between the shots. The perfect shots are being taken. The ones that will mostly end up in the catalog.
PHOTOGRAPHER: This is the kind of the delivery that I’ve waited all night.
One last move to the camera and we are done. The frame freezes.
FADE OUT.
Suddenly a door opens and we see a figure in silhouette and everyone stops to look. A beautiful older woman dressed in a beautiful white YSL evening dress sashes across the studio floor over to the crew
Finally, the pregnant woman calls all of the characters around her and begins to read from the text on the signs she was entrusted to hold. They are the list of scenarios of this very film. “ACT I: Hotel Room, and so on.” As she continues, the crowd of models and hangers-on becomes rowdy, interjecting their own memories of events as they disagree with what is written: was the daydream really at 17:00 and was it really a daydream? Didn’t she sleep in this morning? Had the men really fondled one another on the plane?
Our pathes crossed once again. It was a dry autumn. "Craquer pour elle. " it had happened six years ere. Life would seep out of me when we were in proximity. She was, for me, such a burning muse that it was best if i kept my distance.
The Manuel du Parfait Poete stipulates, "... one must never wed nor should one ever sleep with one's muse without which one would be accused of being guilty of vampirism and other psychic osmosises".
But the caroussel had revolved for a second time and i had no choice but to leap onto it. How to do otherwise? She exulted of beauty mounted on legs that were interminable in their finesse, she incandesced. And i revelled in silence of her presence. "Rien ne pressait d'arriver a la vitesse des choses simples", as the poet would say.
Delinquescente muse qui croit en son etoile !
A shaken H/M artist stares at the table full of make-up and water droplets. Looks up and sees model dressing. Leaves room.
Photographer: to H/M artist, "What happened back there?"
H/M artist: reaching back in memory. "I just don’t get it."
Assistant: "Old make-up could do that."
Photographer: to H/M artist, " Old make-up? … Old make-up! … At your rate?"
Assistant – seeing the future, walks toward the sound system.
H/M artist: ""It’s never happened before, ever!"
Music kicks up more than a few notches and we watch a passionate fight, via body language, between the Photographer and H/M artist.
Assistant - goes into dressing room.
Model - is packed up and needs her voucher signed. She hands it to the assistant.
Assistant – signs voucher.
Model – bare faced and ponytail picks up her bag to leave. She walks past H/M artist who enters the dressing room. Model forces a weak smiles at H/M artist and leaves.
Assistant - watches H/M artist pick a few pieces i.e.) eye shadow, lipstick and puts them in the case. Then in frustration explodes and in one sweep the whole remaining lot go flying as H/M artist wipes them off the table.
She walks directly too the surrealistic stage with this improvised modern minimalist bed , her eyes fixed on the bed and the Christ of Grunenwald, all the people arround doesn't exists for her and she gets over the white cold cube with the white sheet. Suddenly , she hears the voice of Nick saying:"- It's ok ,let's go, I give you completely freedom ,you saw the moovie more than me lately so i trust you!"
By hearing his voice, the model/actress finds the only words which brings her to reality. All her mixed emotions surface and she starts to laugh nervously laying on the bed taking the sheets in her hands like if she were drunk. She stands up on her knees and watches the camera with tears in her eyes, she makes the same pose that on the poster of Belle de Jour moovie,she laughs , right after she looks sad,right after angry.
All the team is staring at her speachless, they don't understand if she is acting or if she's really feeling this way.
Nick is just shooting ,going back and forth just saying:" magical".
The shooting ends and she's waiting with a sad face next to the door of the way out with a cup of something in her hands and a coat over her shoulders.
Nick comes to thank her because he cannot come with her and Stefano to have a drink and before he could even speak a word ,she says to him with tears in her eyes: " Nick, do you think I am just an image?"
Nick, all surprised, stays without saying a word and starts to say:
"-No!... No! I mean you're just so much more than an image, you.... you...you're magical...full of life ...you..."
Someone calls the model/actress name from outside saying the car is there. The model/actress watches Nick straight into the eyes with a hint of a smile,she carresses his cheek , and kisses him on his lipps with her eyes closed during five seconds and she goes out without saying a word.
Jack is sitting at the desk looking at the pictures on the computer. Sabrina enters. She stands next to Jack and looks over his shoulder at the photos. She leans closer. ‘You did an amazing job out there. I am really pleased with theses photos,’ Jack states. Sabrina smiles and they exchange small talk. Jack raises his head slightly, ‘That’s a lovely fragrance,’ Jack says. ‘Thank you,’ Sabrina Replies. There is an awkward silence before Sabrina speaks again. ‘Are you, uh.. going to the party tonight?
Jack turns to answer Sabrina and she is closer than he thought. Their faces are inches apart from each other as they both tense with the anticipation of a kiss. ‘I just have to do some things here and then I will make my way over.’ Sabrina slowly nods as their eyes meet and they feel each other breath gently breeze against their skin. They move closer.
They take a break from shooting. Jill passes between a conversation.
[HENRI] There is no excuse for this stupid war! It is like a rerun of Vietnam! (with a French accent)
[JILL] Excuse me, gentlemen, but--
[HENRI]...Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a passionate exchange?!
[JILL] Yes. I see. But could you please explain to my driver where the hotel is?
In the background, projected against the wall, images of the sea.
A man in a suit approaches the actress, who is standing in her underwear. The man takes off his hat and places it on the actress' head. This is followed by him removing his trousers, giving them to her, then his jacket, and finally his tie, which he knots round her bare neck. They kiss passionately as she unbuttons his shirt. In the end, she is dressed and he is undressed.
The waves continue in the background.
“La mode est au delà des passages de vêtements-mode de la génération à la generation. “ She says. “Fashion is forever.” She leans over and kisses Nick on the cheek. The whole scene breaks out in a huge musical number that ends on a gigantic number 24 surrounded by the twin, dancers and crew.
Your model is growing quite tired by the end of all this, and sits drooped in the center of the crowd. Stefano notices and touches her on the shoulder. She looks up and touches his hand, seeming to thank him for his kindness. He takes the camera from Nick’s hands and hands it to her. “Shoot,” he says, and so she is entrusted with the images for the rest of the hour.
Lit by lone flickering lamp, street in supposedly chic part of the city oddly deserted as model peers from her taxi.
[Model]: are you certain this is [X street]?
[Driver]: Oui! Oui! [Number] euros.
[Model]: (inaudible) Thieves!
She pays anyways and slinks from the cab. Driver peels off with a screech, slightly acrid breeze ruffling model's hair. She curls her lip briefly before strutting to the dimly-lit door.
[Model]: Hello? Anyone here?
Pounds on door. According to invitation, she is two hours late.
[Loiter]: Êtes-vous perdu?
Loiter handsome but obviously drunk.
[Model]: Oui. Yes. [Designer] is hosting a party and I fear I'm a trifle late.
Handsome loiter isn't so handsome when he slings his arm around model's shoulder. Breath reeks.
[Loiter]: I'll take you to the party. But come to my place first.
[Model]: No thank you.
Disengages herself from the loiter.
[Handsome Loiter]: Don't play so hard to get...come back
Model clutches purse and attempts to put as much distance between she and the stumbling loiter. Loiter guffaws, his hoots subsiding into a maudlin tune. In her haste to flee him, she catches a stiletto in pothole and falls face first on pavement. Petrol and gravel scratch her bare knees and coat her new ensemble.
And she's still late and lost.
The model pays the sleepy driver and alights from the car which immdiately speeds off down the quiet street.
It is an unfamiliar scene, the park is strangely silent and empty. The sky is slightly overcast and trees are dressed in new summer leaves but the moonlight manages to filter through the dark lace.
She does not have long to go before she reaches her true destination, so she decides to walk and enjoy the moment of silence so in contrast with her usual hectic life.
A warm breeze makes the litter and blossoms waltz gracefully across the pavement and the girl takes off her light jacket to enjoy it, whilst listening to the clack of her heels on the pavement.
A white cat darts out from under a bench and pauses to stare at her. She is startled but advances slowly to pet the animal, but it turns and slinks away from her towards the glimmer of the city and the echoes of drunken singing.
The cat glides ahead of her like a ghostly guide and disappears as she finds herself at her destination and pauses to take in the strange scene. Sophisticatedly dressed women walk past a dark alley filled with rubbish bins and littered with gleaming glass fragments, whilst soft seductive music seeps out of a nearby bar. A man negotiates with a deluded drunkard and pushes him into a waiting cab.
A wry smile blesses the girls usually emotionless face, and she strides across the street into the madness.
The actress is in the back of a cab. She has her coat collar pulled up around her neck and is looking at her makeup in the mirror of a YSL compact. The cab pulls up to a deserted curb. The actress looks out the window suspiciously.
[Actress]: This can't be it. Is this the address I gave you?
[Taxi driver]: Yes miss. Where are you going?
[Actress]: It's my friend's new bar. I've never been, but this can't be the place. There's nothing here.
An elderly woman wanders out onto the front step of an apartment building. She takes one look at the actress in the backseat of the cab and points towards the basement of her building. The actress nods at her in recognition.
[Actress]: I guess this isn't the wrong place.
She hands the taxi driver some folded bills and jumps out of the cab.
Jill walks in the lobby of the hotel with her "lovely" luggage. She yawns as she heads for the cocktail bar for a little nightcap.
[DOORMAN] Excuse moi Madame, J’..
[JILL] Pardon monsieur. Parlez-vous Anglais?
[DOORMAN] I’m sorry miss, but I think you are in the wrong place.
Jill looks confused.
[NARRATOR] For a moment she thought perhaps her driver had made a mistake.
[JILL] Is this not the Hôtel Donat?
[DOORMAN] Yes it is mademoiselle, but there is a private party in the bar and you are not properly dressed.
Jill’s face lights up. She has an idea.
After all the emotional things of today , having a drink in a pub/bar will for sure make her forget the bad vibes she stills feeling.
Stefano and the model/actress enter the place. There's a dark corridor painted in shining black before arriving to the bar, scaterred with old candelabras. The model actress feels opressed , so to calm down , she just watches her feet walking , because when she sees the long corridor , she imagines it as a death row and some subliminal flashes of the christ of grunenwald come to her head. She suddenly makes a abrupt gesture to rest against the wall. Stefano looks at her and says :"- do you feel right?". The model/actress watches in each direction of the corridor which seems not having a end and says to Stefano: "-it's ok i just feel clostrophobic here.I don't see the end of the corridor..."
Stefano looks at her with a smile but she has some subliminal flashes of the day she had coming to her head like a storm and getting mixed with the face of Stefano who tells her:"- Ok, so don't concentrate on the end of the corridor , just watch the walls and take my arm."
She takes his arm and start to walk watching the walls, but she realizes the walls have pictures between each candelabra. The pictures are old portraits in black and white alterning as she walks one normal and one in negative, the faces are all different ,like Man Ray portraits, but now her imaginations transforms them into her face. She sees her face in the pictures on the wall one in black and white and the other in negative and all starts to speeds up in her imagination... She falls down again and says to Stefano:"-I can't keep on walking, i feel like it never ends"
Stefano looks surprised and says to her: "- That's ok , that just means that i chose the wrong place to bring you. There is another bar at the entry of the place , but i thought it was just less cosi than the one at the end of the corridor,that was before knowing you're clostrophobic, now i think it will be perfect to have a drink. Take my arm we just step back to go there."
A taxi pulls up in front of Bar Italia and a worn looking Marion steps out holding her cell phone.
-“Yes, I am here Bar Italia.” She says looking around. “I don’t see you…” But she spots a handsome man that she makes eyes at. She smiles.
-“Oui, I’ll look.” She says into the phone flipping it shut and coming to see her reflection in the café window.
-“I am beautiful.” She spins around and spots her sister walking to a taxi with the handsome man.
-“Se faire enculer!” She exclaims and starts to run but stops. She turns around and runs into the bar.
The exterior of a space: white muslin on wooden supports in a circular tentlike situation, something like a yurt. Well-lit from the inside, with the sound of Middle Eastern singing and many voices speaking quietly to one another. The shadows of guests leap around the walls of the thing, as your model, her two men and her two dogs trip around its exterior looking for an entrance. When they finally find the flap, they untie it and enter, expecting cocktails and an exotic lounge. Instead, indeed, it seems a place of prayer, or at least extremely male community, and our entourage is out of place. They quickly back away from the exterior, but a man ushers them inside. They enter, ready for anything, and are plied with little glasses of mint tea.
Metal doors slide open and the model crosses the threshold.
The floor is covered in a thin film of black water - she steps and it ripples.
There is no one in this room. Its walls are craggy. It is lit just enough that our model is reflected in the water.
In a far corner, there is a cafe table and on the table is a decanter and a glass.
The model steps, gingerly at first, then splashes recklessly across the room. She toys with the decanter, pours herself a glass of amber liquid, raises it to drink, considers... then upturns the glass and watches it flow down onto and into the black liquid of the floor.
She sits and downs a glass, stares at her reflection in the floor. As she looks down, a man's reflection comes to join hers. She looks up. He extends his hand and helps her out of this place.
the cocktail bar is not all that it seems.
like a scene out of "the last year at marienbad" we see a disparate group of socialites, gigolos, hipsters and ageing businessman.
the setting is a highly ornate gilded marble floored hotel bar, like the crillon.
the characters all have one thing in common: they are frozen in time, as though caught in a moment.
our heroine walks thought the parade of people. she twists and turns around them, examining them, unsure of how and why this is so.
suddenly as though the film has started moviing again they all resume the cocktail hour as though nothing has happened.
Another taxi, another race across the city, this time to her flat, a quick change in order. The taxi screeches to the curb, sending rain water billowing across the sidewalk. Hurriedly passing three immaculate bills to the cabbie she darts a long, slender leg from the yellow door, her pumps sprinkled lightly by a thin veil of rain. No time to pop her umbrella she rushes to the antique, cream colored door of her building. Her trench shimmering with incandescent rain drops she hops into the lift the bellman ringing the top floor. Thrusting her key into the door she flings her coat onto a burnished leather chaise. Settling on the armoire she leans over the glass coffee table, sweeping together a line with a stray credit card. A bill is already rolled, deposited swiftly in her nose the ivory line quickly disappears. To her bathroom, a cluttered shrine of fragrance and lotion, she grabs her mascara and gently dabs her eyelashes. Blinking delicately she feels the tiny white elephant begin it's journey through her body. Her eyes seem to swell and her fingertips twitch softly. Her dress quickly hits the floor and naked legs stride on pumps towards the closet. Slipping on a thinly striped vintage nautical ysl dress she deposits her bra on the floor, the dresses deep cut sliding down well below her breasts. She tosses a small shrug over her shoulders and quickly shakes the contents of her purse into a white leather clutch. Heading to the door she stops at the coffee table quickly giving her left nostril a small reward. Then off to the rain, the party, and maybe...him?
3AM Martine alights from the lift on the 27th floor Skyview Bar of the Burj Al Arab Hotel. A misty setting. Lucious view of the bay beyond ceiling to floor windows. Tall blond Germanic bartender has six tequila gold sunrises in front of his station and is efficiently finishing his pour.
He gives Martine a sexy smile as she approaches him. Blondie's Heart of Glass is playing on the sound system.
Martine: Good Evening.
Barman: Good evening. May I fix you a cocktail?
Martine: Thanks. I'm meeting two friends. I'm on a layover from Paris and would love to change my gear.
Barman: The lounge is to my right - what may I prepare for you - martini?
Martine: Yes. Tangueray dry thanks. I'm Martine. [smiles].
Barman: Johann. Take your time changing and I will take care of your friends. I shall serve the martini to you inside so you can relax.
Martine: Sounds perfect. My YSL cocktail dress will be more appropriate for now. [Martine slinks away slowly. At the door to the ladies lounge she turns and sees Johann watching her every move. She slowly grins and then enters.]
Inside the lounge her hear beats quickly thinking about his sexy smile. Martine opens her weekender and brings out her silver jewelled stilettos, YSL silk swing cocktail dress and jewel case containing Amethyst drop earrings, choker and cocktail ring. After stripping to her lingerie, she begins a quick sponge bath. Johann knocks and enters. Martine pulls the dress on quickly.
Johann: Your martini - may I help with anything else?
Martine: Just my zip - how do I look?
Johann: Very very beautiful. [zips up back of dress]. If you need me for anything else Im available - back to my clients for now.
Martine blows a kiss. Johann leaves.
Martine puts together her ensemble - sprays a small amount of 'Opium' and slides out of the lounge into the energetic chatter of the bar.
sam stands irriated on the sidewalk. profile face view as she looks down at her legs and black heels. she turns her short periwinkle skirt around to place the zip back to the center. she brushes her heavy bangs off the the side and takes a look into her oversized black leather bag, checks the time on her iphone. the sky shines the brightest moonlight on to the angles of her cheek bones. A sharp breeze precisely replaces her bangs back to the center. she raises her arm abruptly, with instantous decisive mannor.
Taxi stops.
[Sam] (Address) Take me around the back, you can just leave me on the corner of (street name), just before (Street name). (pause).
Taxi radio beeps with sitar guitar sounds muted in the background create a juxtaposition of abstract beeps and melodic classical indian music. Sam looks into her bag and pulls out a black YSL classic tight fitting mini dress and emerald coloured belt. As the taxi drives panels of bright lights whip through the windows onto Sam's face. passing architectural pieces shadow lines and geometric shapes onto her face and shirt. She pulls her white t-shirt off over her head, the shadows reflect onto her torso, breast and her simple trimmed black bra. Sam quickly pulls her YSL dress over her head. Adjusts it to her body and pulls the underneath periwinkle skirt down to her ankles. She grabs the skirt and shirt, throws it in her bag. She closes the back small button just behind her neck.
[Taxi Driver] Madame, (slutters) madame. Shall I leave you here?
Sam grabs her belt and starts to buckle.
[Sam] Is this (Street name)? (lowers her voice slightly) oh yeah, it is. i remember this spot. (louder) yeah this will be fine.
She grabs her bag, hands a 10 euro bill, firmly closes the door and walks towards the back door.
The wrong place AND the wrong outfit! Quelle Horreur!
We see our gamine heroine run down the very long baroque staircase of the members cocktail bar, past numerous other guests as they travel the opposite way up the stairs. Camera shot is wide and still and far away from the scene showing the surrounding extravagant settings.They hand her different articles of clothing as she runs down; a hat, a jacket/cardigan which she proceeds to put on whilst continuing to descend. It cuts to the bottom of the stairs and close up on the last few stairs so that the close up equisite detail of the shoes and dress are seen as she passes.
Next cut is of her running down a pure black or white, (depending on the colour of the dress )shiny reflective (marble?) hallway with no decorations whatsoever; It is only her and she becomes somewhat of a disorientating abstraction as she runs, seemingly in space. It is a long shot and again the camera is still until she very abruptly turns and goes into a room that is off-screen.
In the dark there is a red light beeping a message for her. Ignoring the message she stretches her neck and her hair falls slowly down her shoulders.
Streetlight hits her beautiful curved back while she opens the closet and pushes all the clothes aside. Rapped in plastic, still from the cleaners she throws the vintage tuxedo suit on the bed. She touches it softly and sighs.
Slowly she starts dressing in the dark, only the streetlights hitting her body a few times. In the meanwhile lighting a cigarette, smoke curls up in silence. She’s closing her jacket while walking to the mirror. Looking her self straight in the eyes she starts to take of her make-up, showing a Blanco boyish face,. She puts her hair back , out of her face and smiles. “Are you ready?”
Jill stands at a mirror in the lavish restroom. She pulls a stunning dress and a delicate tuxedo from her bag...
[NARRATOR] Jill was always clever. Always elegant. Always prepared for anything.
Jill finds it difficult to choose between the two outfits. She holds them both up to her neck.
[NARRATOR] If she could only choose...
Jill walks out into the cocktail party with her chin up. All eyes are on her. It looks like it took a team to make her look so perfect... but it didn’t.
She’s quite proud for showing such agility.
They walk back to the entry of the place where they was this first bar. She stills walking taking the arm of Stefano in the corridor and watching her feet that seem to repeat the same moove again and again, sometimes she has flashes and she sees them in negative like the pictures before.
Suddenly Stefano tells her:"-Look,here on the right side of the corridor , we arrive to the bar of the entry."
She holds her head high and sees like a strong light on the right side of the corridor close to the entrence. Stefano adds: "- But i inform you that is less cosi than the one at the end of the corridor, here people dance , there is music playing."
She looks again in the direction of the light coming from the right side of the corridor and a flash of the corridor of the Hotel of this morning comes back to her head , as if she was retroceding back in time, as if it was a possibility for her to change what happened after in the day. Suddenly ,she feels much better even if her face stills looking perturbed.
They enter into the bar.
It's a bar with the walls made with pieces of mirrors,all the mirrors oriented in different directions. People are dancing and some other speaking at the bar. The mirrors give her an impression of space but very confusing at the same time because everything seems repeted.
Before she exits the cab, the actress pulls a wig cut into the shape of a shiny dark bob out of a plastic 'I love NY' bag. She pins up her hair and adjusts the wig. To this she adds a pair of large earrings stolen from the photo shoot. As she leaves the taxi she hands the driver the plastic bag as though it were a gift.
A Quick Change – She emerges in a different YSL outfit.
After a few such shots of sugary tea, the entourage confers. They decide that they will try to leave the circle of extremely friendly hosts one by one so as not to offend. One man leaves, then another. They await the model outside, but when she does not come, they look inside to find her towering over a sea of men, laughing but looking slightly panicky. One of the models calls out to Stefano to bring him a caftan so that he can disguise himself and enter the scene unnoticed. Stefano brings him something and outfits him then and there. The man enters the scene and reels in the model. He begins to tug her out the door and they almost escape…
She's spinning a bit in her bar stool and plays with her glass. She makes sounds with her ring. A handsome man is consistenly checking her out and trying to make an approach. She tries to avoid eye contact, however she feels sort of flatered and blushes. He finally decides to stand up from his stool and walks towards her smiling. She concentrates in her drink.
Man: Do I know you from somewhere?
Model: No, I don't think so. (She mumbles: What a stupid pick up line)
Man: Sorry?
Model: Nothing, I said I don't think I have ever met you.
Man: Yeah, of course... You're this covergirl... We were introduced in a party launch in New York last month. You were with this Fashion Editor and some other models.
Model (giggles): I've never been in a photo shoot besides for my High School Yearbook and I can assure you I wasn't in New York last month. So it's impossible we have met.
Man: C'mon! You looked gorgeous that day! and I know we were into each other that day, as well as today. I caught you make the eye at me. Can I buy you a drink?
Model: I ALWAYS look great. I haven't finished my drink, so I don't need another, yet...
Man: Yet, but then you will need one...
Model: Possibly maybe. But I can buy my own drinks.
Man: Hey covergirl don't be...
Model (interrupts and puts a finger in his mouth trying to shut him) I'm not a model, do we agree? Follow me...
She winks her eye, finishes her drink, stands up and walks away. He stands in the same place. She looks back sexier than ever.
Model: Aren't you coming?
She continues to walk away and he follows her
She strides into the room like a goddess, wafts of perfume in her wake, her liquid satin dress clinging to her like wet leaves. All eyes are upon her.
The room is throbbing hot, and full of kisses and champagne, muscles and diamonds. A brown hand slides across her rear, as a male voice whispers,
'I knew you'd come'
She tries to turn to see who's seducing her but he presses her forward,
'I can't leave you alone'.
Then they're walking, pushing through the crowd, his hands guiding her into a dark corner. Ignoring all greetings and air kisses. She doesn't complain. She knows it's him.
'Don't say anything, or it'll break the spell'.
Hands sliding over high heels, up smooth legs, higher and higher.
Her phone trills an interruption,
'leave it just.. leave it'
She lets her bag and phone drop to the floor. Her hair covers her face, as her dress is pushed up, and then there's no going back. Because she knows him. He's the man that makes her feel alive.
The phone trills on relentlessly. The screen reads 'meet me at Le Grande, it can't wait until tomorrow'.
She never sees it. She's aflame.
There's a hotel bar, with an old and wise bartender in red and black velvet jacket with black bowtie and glasses.
He's behind a row of male drinkers, cleaning glassware slowly, while he speaks with a girl, (all this scene starts from behind the people at the bar, facing bartender, with a lot of cigarrette smoke, very masculin, suddenly a woman speaks and the scene faces them both, she has a clean and elegant hairstyle with leather gloves and smoking cigarretes, with a vodka tonic in front of her)
[Model]: I really think you're very kind.
[Bartender]: No madame, I just do my job.
[Model]: Well, you do it very well then.
[Bartender]: Thank you Miss... what's your name? If is not a problem for you of course.
[Model]: Jajajaja... Not at all.
(silence while she sips her vodka tonic after shaking it with the mixer, smiling)
[Model]: Well... I guess it's time to leave now for me, do you know that man in front?
(They both look a young and thin man in white t-shirt, very sporty for the place and the time)
[Bartender]: Mmmm... I think his name is Barry
(The man looks when he hears his name)
[Model]: Well good man, if anyone asks... (looking at subject Barry) my name is Blanca.
(the girl leaves looking at her purse for cigarretes and lipstick and throws away a Card that burns on air with no alarm for anyone, she smiles again and takes the elevator, swinging her purse)
The bar is pretty packed, looks like a live performance is about to start, people are gathering around the stage area. The model is wearing an elegant dress, which she has just given at the photo shoot. She is a bit tipsy, she decides to explore the bar.
She walks down a corridor, opens doors, down the stairs, peeks into rooms, then she bumps into four performers come out of a dressing room, each wearing an iconic number from YSL heritage (or from the new collection). They look utterly stunning.
Model: Wow!
The performers pass the model, she joins the end of the line and follows them. They hurry to the backstage, they’re about to go on. The model stands in a little distance and watches the performers. A stage staff gives a cue, the performer go on the stage one by one. The stage is still dark. The stage staff notices the model, says something to the model in French.
Model: What?
Stage staff: Dancer? You’re dancer?
Model poses a second, and smiles.
Model: Oh yeah.
Stage staff: Go! Go!
Model: (in her breath) Well I was.
Model goes on the stage, and the light comes on, the show begins.
OUTDOOR / camera is following her from below, when cat passes by, follow cat closely and speedy(fast forward feel).
In a lost alley she rings a door. After a few minutes , a cat is rushing by screaming, a big guy lets her in nodding his head of regognicition. “Hi Franco, long time” she says.
“Looking good honey” Franco replies. “she’s there” he says softly, answering her questioning eyes.
Her mobile rings, “private number” …. She looks at it, waiting for it to end. Franco looks the other way.
A message comes in “how was the shoot? I miss you…ox J” . a quick text back then, just to shut him up….”great, in bed now, major headache, lost my charger, won t be reachable, call you later, xxx”… and she turns off the phone.
INDOOR / camera keeps close to the wall in the hallway, sometimes maybe even turn to the wall and then walk in front of her, snapping around quickly, when entering space, keep close to her like you are her.
Walking down the long hallway she enjoys feeling strong in her suit. The hallway tildes slightly down, thick warm air, buzzy sounds… Entering the round , dimmed light space, a full-size gorgeous jazz-singer is singing softly on the small stage in the centre, she’s wearing a velvet bleu dress with shiny diamonds blinking from her ears. The dark space is filled with people, cosy together, on cushion’s and chairs . “Excuse me sir”… a sexy girl is touching her arm while passing by, a lovely smell surrounds her, her lips apart, hands touching.
I walk to the bar, nothing has changed, it just looks smaller then I remember…. The girl behind the bars wears a nice top, the shape of her breasts is coming out amazing. I ask her to mix her specialty.
(camera: close-ups through the glass-ice cubes, smells can be visualized with extra colour splashes surrounding people, like aura’s .we see aura’s touching and exchanging of energy once in a while, changing into black and white=possible)
INT: Night / Early Morning – Cocktail Bar – Milan
The trendy Italian Cocktail Bar as buzzing with beautiful people dresses to impress. The mood is light and fun.
Sabrina is sitting on a bar stool speaking to Lillian Delucci. ‘Wonderful, just wonderful,’ the woman says as kisses Sabrina on both cheeks. ‘Ciao bella,’ she says as she walks away. Sabrina looks into her designer bag and pulls out her mobile / Blackberry. She reads the message:
Camera captures the message text: Shall we end the day as it started with some champagne?
Sabrina smiles. ‘Shall we? Jack states. Sabrina looks up to see Jack walking towards her with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Jack sits down.
‘It was you!’ Sabrina states with a smile, ‘How did you get my number?’
‘When I heard you were my model for the shoot, I asked for your contact details.’
Jack pours the champagne and smiles cheekily at Sabrina.
Mikal, a tall male model walks up to their table. He kisses Sabrina on the neck.
‘Hello gorgeous, I heard you were coming to town, your name has been mentioned so many times today, I had to come see your beautiful face since you haven’t called me in over a week,’ Mikal jokes. ‘I hope we are in the same hotel.’
Jack looks curiously at Sabrina who is feeling uncomfortable. She manages a smile for Mikal. ‘Mikal, nice to see you. This is Jack.’ Mikal extends his hand and Jack shakes it. ‘So, are you a boyfriend or just a friend?’
Jack looks at Sabrina. There is an uncomfortable silence.
Sabrina quickly answers as she sees Jack about to answer. ‘Boyfriend?’ she says. Jack looks at Sabrina, Sabrina smiles and grabs Jacks had affectionately.
Jill’s arms are crossed. In one hand she’s holding a glass of champagne by the brim.
A pianist plays in the corner. Jill watches him closely.
Her cell phone vibrates. A text message.
[MATHIEU] Do you still love me?
Jill looks up from the phone. She spots a young man at the bar. He winks at her.
Jill texts back.
[JILL] Yes.
Stefano and the model/actress go to the bar and take a sit. Stefano asks her :"-What do you want for drink?
_ A glass of champagne for me please."She answers.
She looks all around the place and everything is very strange to her , maybe it's because she stills feel destabilized after the day she had.
She looks the people dancing and they all strangely seem to have the same coordination like if it was studied, and the images are repeted on the walls in different angles. Two woman sitting next to them laugh and she looks their reflection in one mirror, and focuses on the lipps of one of them laughing , sees them again in negative...
Stefano brings her to reality giving her the glass of champagne, the glass looks like shining, like gold . Stefano asks her:"-Sorry for before, i didn't know you were clostrophobic."
She waits before answering: she's not clostrophobic at all, but she cannot tell him that she is in state of choc ,that she thinks that her supposed boyfriend seems to avoid her lately.
So she answers:"- Yes i 've got this since my childhood, i fell down into a well" realising what she just said, she bursts out laughing, what an idea she got!
Stefano all concerned by her revelation says:"-Oh, that must have been terrible, I'm so sorry...
- It's allright ! " she answers and laughs again.
INDOOR / camera: details and sentences of other people’s conversations whisper by while she walks through the space, lips, a hand on a thigh, laughing, camera can make a spin from above.
A waitress with Geisha makeup escorts me to a table, her skirt is see-through and on her upper lip are little drops of sweat. I sit down comfortably . She lights my cigar and asks if I’m in need for more… I ask about the Champagne room…. She is new here, and still a bit uneasy while she spurts away. Nice high heels, feathers on stage , new music, someone starts dancing. The dancing girl pulls another girl from her cough, a bit shy she closes her eyes while her dance partner is turning her around. (backlight, quick silhouette, overexposed feel / flashbacks of herself dancing) The spotlight turns on them , their rhythm is slowly going up, following the music, her shoulder bares while her dress is falling off, she tries to put it back but the other girls holds her from it…. Her renewed feel of freedom makes her dance even more sexy and alive. Lovely legs.
Suddenly a hand on my shoulder and I’m blindfolded…. A shock in my stomach, and arousal of adrenaline. I want to refuse, but I’m to excited. I’m escorted by 2 pairs of arms.
Camera: we she her from behind, sitting, watching the girls dance. 3 girls, dressed in tight pants and tall thigh-high boots(of course YSL)walk up from behind and blindfold her. Escorting her to a private room, walking through the crowd.
I ‘m aware of my body, which is escorted into a space, as I hear the sounds changing, a smell of incense, lovely music. They place me on a soft chair. The sound of an old slide-machine. Heels walking away. Another different smell in the air, I’m drifting away…..
Her body on mine. She takes off the blindfold and pours champagne in my mouth. Is it her? I can t see…Is she recognizing me? Hair is swinging, want to touch her, but not yet. She dances in front of me, the dark room is lighted by slides with text/French sexy poems, and moving projected images on the wall, she falling against the wall and crawls back over the ground towards me.. She is gorgeous and dances on my lap, undressing slowly. I want to kiss her... She is so far away, her mind is lost, her eyes are rolling..
A White Lie- In the taxi Marion calls Linette as she stares at the taxi meters that turns to 24.
-“I am still waiting.”
-“I am in the toilet.” Says Linette.
-“A little white lie…” Marion speaking to herself as she looks out the window and spots Linette’s taxi stopping in front of the YSL store on Sloane Street.
The men close in around her. They begin to interrogate the man in languages he doesn’t understand. He does understand, however, the way they are approaching his clothing. It appears different to them from their own. He claims to have brought stashes of the clothing for the men and calls out of the tent for masses of like garb to be delivered. Soon, the entire tent is full of men changing their outergarments, but our stars are no further out the door and on to their next cocktail bar. Where are they anyway? Your model begins to feel confused, tearful, like she might have had a better time staying put with the other man…
INT. NEW YORK/SOME LOUNGE AT MEAT PACKING DISTRICT - 05:00
The model is "hanging out" in this - bed type of sofas everywhere - type of place with her friend. Back in the day lounge building actually belonged to one of those old meat packing companies, so it gives the place little bit of factory feeling. Obviously nowadays it's much more decorated. The girls are laying in one of the sofa-beds, sipping their champagne & swinging their shoulders in rhythm with music. Both looking a bit bored. Not too much, but they had higher hopes for the ending.
THE FRIEND: Are all these boys always this humdrum?
MODEL: No, only on tuesday nights.
THE FRIEND: How about last act then?
MODEL: I think it's time. What do you have in mind?
THE FRIEND: Something like this.
The friend shows little dance choreography with her fingers.
MODEL: I think it's too knotty.
THE FRIEND: Lead the way then.
Text (white) PERFORMANCE jumps on screen (black background). First the horns or bells type of sound chimes to air to capture attention and to indicate the change of the mood. After that a music with nice & easy beat fades in.
The girls are side by side on the empty spot near 'their bed'. They start this easy, but charming little nouvelle vague styled dance. Walking. Swinging legs. Snapping fingers. Clapping hands every now and then. Couples of jumps here and there. And so on. Some point of the dance couple of 'boys' joins to the performance & and imitates them synchronized. And when the end comes the whole place freezes and the performer girls end up in some kind of elegant show posture with those joined guys in very masculine posture around them. The whole ending is like: Last move -> the posture with music ending sharply at the same time -> Silence stillness for couple of seconds.
The music stops, and a cocktail waitress promptly enters on the bar's stage area with a small piece of paper in her hand. She grabs the microphone.
WAITRESS: Testing, testing.
The model looks up from the bar where she stirs her drink, melancholy.
WAITRESS: This just in. We have a special request for a performance tonight, which we are proud to fulfill. We have Agyness Deyn with us tonight, to sing for us "Everybody Hurts"!
The bar applauds, she looks around the room, as if asking "me? are you serious?". She shakes her head.
MODEL: Really, no...I mean...seriously..I can't...
WAITRESS: Oh please! It's all ready for you, dear!
She looks around the room again, the crowd apparently insistent. She gives up trying, and gulps the rest of her drink and makes her way to the stage, the crowd applauding her.
She takes the mic from the waitress, and holds it up to her lips. Nervous. What the fuck is going on ? The crowd is all smiles, the lights are on her. The music is about to begin.
Click- the tape begins. She knows the song....from where, though? She settles into the melody and begins to sing.
A soaring expression of loneliness, hurt, vulnerability, beauty. The crowd is entranced by her honesty. Her voice a little cracked, not so perfect, but still beautiful. A tear down her face as the words become more clear.
By the end of the song, she looks around the room, waiting for him to have arrived by now. To have seen her take the chance. There is no one, except a dozen people applauding, admrining- and to her the room may as well be empty.
The action in the bar is uneven. In one corner a French-Algerian singer is playing guitar accompanied by a piano. He starts a song, sings, then stops. Nearby a DJ listens to the acoustic performance before returning to his albums.
The actress is seated among several men and women. She is having her tarot cards read, but is not paying attention. We see the fortune teller lay out two cards. Their design is old-fashioned, they are creased, and their edges are worn.
[fortune teller]: "And here, the devil card followed by the star. At center wheel of fortune"
[Actress]: (to man and woman across from her) Honestly, no one I know likes the daytime. What can you do during the day anyway? All day I just prepare for night"
The actress continues picking apart the bouquet of roses at her table. A pile of petals lays next to the vase.
[Woman]: Oh, you don't have to convince me. I dance cabaret.
[Actress]: What! You don't.
The woman opens her suit jacket to reveal a rhinestone studded corset.
[Woman]: I've just danced tonight. We are a group all of us.
[Actress]: You have to teach me. Please. Show me right now.
[Woman]: Are you sure?
[Actress]: Are you kidding? I've never been more sure of anything in my life!
[Woman]: Alright. Suit yourself. (smiles)
The cabaret dancer walks over to the singer and whispers in his ear. He nods and looks over at the actress. The dancer walks back to her and takes her hand. The music slows and becomes more intense. The dancer lead the actress away from the table. Once in the center of the room the two women dance. First, the dancer leads and the actress follows. The two exchange clothes-the dancer takes off her suit jacket and the actress puts it on, then the actress takes off her fishnet stockings one by one only to have the dancer put them on. The music grows faster and the DJ begins to play a track in the background. The performance continues on tabletop. There is a sense of time passing as we watch them dance and entertain the entire bar. We see both faces and realize that the actress has completely lost herself in the music. It all finally ends with a table of Brazilian men ordering them a bottle of champagne. They each take a drink from the bottle and bow to their audience. The man who is sitting at their table grabs the handful of rose petals and throws them into the air. We see them shower down onto the two women.
In the cocktail bar, our model is still working. 'enjoying' herself. Photographed, with an ever changing group of 'friends'.
She sits on a banquet, surrounded by glamorous, well dressed (in YSL), friends.
A beautiful man, an angelic girl, an elegant intriguing older woman and her lover. Party people, writers, artists, who knows.
The camera clicks. Flash they are laughing.
Flash, she is gazing into the eyes of the young model next to her.
Quick cuts of them smoking, talking, drinking, looking amazing.
A few of the crowd dance, the light from the camera flash catches their sexy, close, bodies.
Flash of white. They are gone. She is alone, on the banquet. Her performance is over. She looks exhausted from living this fabulous life for the camera.
A body appears in front of her, a man. She looks up. It's him.
Model is looking at a ballett performance...
she is sitting in a balcony near the stage... she has opera glasses and she is looking at the male dancers.. her companion is her father ...
M.- Daddy i can´t imagine you once were also a dancer ... could you do those incredible jumps ?
Father- Darling when i was younger i could do a lot more than you give me credit for... you should never underestimate someone because of their age. I did those jumpsand a lot more ... besides, I met your mother on stage !
M. -( she looks at the stage through her opera glasses and takes a closer look at the dancers in their thight costumes and muscled bodies... they are sexual abd very much alive.)
I guess i should be thankful for all the good genes i got from you and mummy... thank God i never had to do day of sports in my life... i hated those ballett classes when i was a child.
F.- well... they certainly paid off if i look at you now...
M. -(she squeezes her father's hand and leans on his shoulder. )
How i wish life was like this forever. Everything beautiful.
Than she lifts her operaglasses and looks at the hot guys..
The contemporary dancers on the stage, they perform a rather placid dance with a mellow instrumental music. The model stands by a wing of the stage, the light doesn’t quite reach her but we can see her thinking what to do.
The music gets a little brighter, the model makes up her mind. She starts to move her body, walks to the front of the stage. She dances like a vamp, very seductive, yes it’s the lap dancing. The music isn’t particularly suitable for this sort of dance but somehow it’s synchronizing.
The performers are stunned, they stop their dance and stare at the model. The model carries on dancing, one of the performers gets angry and steps towards the model, the rest of the performers stop him because they are enthralled by her dance.
The house DJ jumps into his booth, the sound engineer starts to mix the music, now the model has a perfect electronica track to dance with. She dances beautifully, starts to strip. Now she only has underwear on her, then she finishes her dance with the music. She quickly picks up her clothes and walks away with a big smile, leaving a burst of applause behind her.
The model's left eye and cheek in close up, as if seen through a shaft of light in a darkened room.
Cut to close up of tangled peices of clothing and the model's ear just visible in the centre of the fabric.
Cut to wide shot of room, empty except for a huge pile of clothes in the shape of a pyramid in the centre of the room. The model bursts through the top of the pyramid of clothes, to emerge wearing minimal underwear and standing motionless with her arms raised and hands clasped together pointing to the ceiling.
Cut to medium shot as the model's hands part and her arms draw down (as if in slow motion) to assume a semi cross shape.
In this pose she remains motionless for the rest of the scene as a succession of dresses rapidly dissolve, one into the other on her body, as though they were projected images of light melting into her. As this effect continues we cut to a wide shot, the model is now standing in an empty room and the pyramid of clothing has gone. Sound of footsteps moving away. The model vanishes from the scene. [End of scene]
Jill approaches the handsome young man at the bar.
[JILL] Would you happen to have a cigarette?
[YOUNG MAN] No... I quit.
[JILL] Do you know where I can get one?
[YOUNG MAN] Why don’t you ask the man over there?
[JILL] I bet I can get one without asking!
The young man is puzzled. Jill waltzes across the room. She smiles at all the guests as if she’s known them her whole life.
She passes the smoking man who is chatting with a woman and sipping from a glass of champagne. Jill stands behind him back to back.
She waits for the precise moment and gracefully taps his elbow with hers.
The smoking man spills champagne on the woman.
[JILL] Terribly sorry.
The smoking man scowls and reaches from a handkerchief in his suits inner pocket.
As he yanks it out a cigarette holder falls open on the ground. Cigarettes roll right between Jill’s legs. She (in a very quick ladylike fashion) snatches up the cigarette and walks back toward the young man.
She passes him... he is in awe. She winks.
Stefano and the model/actress keep on talking and suddenly a man invites the model to dance, she looks at Stefano like waiting for his aprouval and finally accepts the invitation. She starts to dance in the iddle of the crowd. She looks down and sees the feet of people all mooving in different directions, she looks to the mirrors and sees her reflections in the middle of everyone . She starts to turn on herself and laughs , like if she was in a exhilarating state. The mirrors, the lights, the feet, the pictures of her in black and white and negative on the wall before, the flashes of the shooting of today,the christ of grunenwald,the mondrian paintings, all comes to her head and she laughs with her head in direction of the ceiling , her arms in the positions of the ones of the christ of Grunenwald.
She dances making slow mooves and accelerating them , she has her own body language in the middle of the crowd that watches her.
She sees that people are staring at her but she continues mooving like she wants and when she opens again her eyes , she suddenly realises that she is the only one to dance that the crowd is watching her.
She stops and everyone starts to applause and in the middle of the bar she laughs making gestures to thank them.
Everyone starts to dance again.
The model leaves the dance floor to find a seat on a large deco sofa with a good view of bar. The lights dim and all attention is focused on the small, spot-lit stage in the corner of the club. The thumping bass that had filled the dance floor is replaced by the eerie beauty of a glass organ. The compere, a skeletal, yet dapper gent in his seventies, croons his introduction into an oversized microphone.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Nola, the girl with the radio mind.’
A strange small woman, neat as a pin, but with the wildest eyes, steps into the spotlight. Her high collar and tight-laced appearance is in complete contrast to the flamboyance of the cocktail crowd.
She scans the room and commences her mind reading act. Addressing the clubbers by name and throwing in her observations. The model is mildly amused until the girl with the radio mind suddenly addresses her directly.
‘I hear all. I see all. You are not who you claim to be. ’
The other man bursts onto the scene. He demands that a path be cleared to where she stands. People understand the majesty of his gestures, which are inflated with a kind of jocularity he must seldom employ. Every inch the dandy at this moment, he unfurls a carpet and invites her to walk out on it. She takes the hand of the man who tried to rescue her first and walks gingerly out the door. The men in the tent murmur as she goes.
Her cellphone rings - 'Private Caller'.
[Mysterious Caller]: Please do not bore me with your cheap I LOVE YOUs and meaningless apologies. I was never attracted to a whore. Bitches are okay though, at least they are loyal to their owners."
Her lips tremble.
A woman goes to a second hand fashion store. Among hundreds of uninteresting rags she founds something amazing: a crimson red knee-length dress, by Yves Saint Laurent Couture. That dress has a special glow that catches the attention of the woman. She immediately buys it; and she is very happy with her discovery.
That night she must go to a cocktail bar with a few friends, and she needed something to wear. And a vintage YSL haute couture dress was more than perfect!
When she wears the dress, she feels strange, uneasy and nervous without a particular reason. She looks like a Hollywood actress with that dress on, but somehow she feels something is not going well. Maybe it´s just her imagination! Or not?
She finally arrives at the cocktail bar. Everyone is looking at her. She looks like a queen, and all her friends tell her that she looks breathless. But she keeps feeling bad...
A man in the bar looks at her. He cannot get his eyes off from that woman wearing a crimson red dress. Suddenly he approaches her; and then he aks her:
(MAN)-Where did you get that dress??
(WOMAN)- Why are you asking me that?
(MAN)-Please tell me! Where did you get that dress??
(WOMAN)-I just bought it at a vintage store. Why are you so interested? Are you a stylist, a fashion collector; or what??
(MAN)-Some years ago I placed an order to YSL atelier in Paris. I wanted a red crimson dress to be made specially for my girlfriend. It was our 5th anniversary. A year ago she disappeared, and she was last seen wearing that dress. Then...a month later police found her naked body in a river near our house. Police is still investigating to find the killer who murdered my darling...and now you are here wearing that same dress!!!
The woman has now an eerie feeling all over her. Her face is pale white. She now understands why she felt uneasy when wearing that dress...sometimes vintage clothes hide more than timeless style...
Flashback. Black & White.
Our model and the man. Another time, a memory.
They are on the bed she first woke up in this morning.
(Man voice over): – I got your flowers.
Quick jump cuts. Close up shots of their bodies and the room.
Her legs.
He caresses her feet.
His hands.
They kiss.
Her neck, her earings.
He reads a book to her.
Coffee swirling in a cup.
They kiss
She pulls on his white YSL shirt.
(Model voice over): I'm sorry. I miss you.
Flashbacks: We see our main character, the famous actress, as a lap dancer, working in the place she is in now. The girl who is dancing on her lap now, while our main character is wearing a smoking suit tuxedo, is her former colleague/lover.
Jill watches the party guests chat. She watches a pianist play in the corner as she finishes her cigarette.
A hand taps her on the shoulder. She turns around.
It’s Mathieu. In a dashing tuxedo.
[JILL] I was waiting for you.
He smiles faintly. They stare at each other. They seem to be speaking to one another, but no words are necessary.
Mathieu kisses her softly on the cheek. They stare at each-other lovingly.
She takes a step backward as if they’d just had a complete conversation with just their eyes and she’s saying goodbye.
He tries to smile at her.
While she's dancing, suddenly in the middle of this crowd a familiar faces appears: it's him!!
In the same instant she sees him , the people dancing seem to slow down, they are like almost stop. Only the flashes of the light still having the same speed, but they are like flashes of lightning now. The music has disappeard in her head and she just sees him watching her at the other side of the bar. She looks at him with a look of alack of understanding, he looks at her with a look of surprise. The images are like pictures of her face alterning with pictures of his face, first going slow and them going faster and faster and focusing only in the eyes of them at the end of this acceleration.
Suddenly all comes back to real, the music, the feet of the people, the people dancing and mooving. She walks in direction of the coat check.
“Oh well…” She moans as she leans against the window and patting out her dress. “I deserve it…” She remembers the past and a smile breaks forth on her face. Then she laughs and (wide shot) opens out her arms and twirls.
Once outside, she finds herself again in the dark night of some unnamed place. No longer on a schedule, but really quite tired, she leans on the shoulders of her companions. The stress of such a circuslike day has finally caught up with her and she stumbles to keep herself together. The reassure her that something extremely comfortable awaits her. They improvise, describing fantasy spas, rooms full of baklava, a night of simple sleep. Then, in the distance, almost directly in front of them, but over a hill, emerges a white shining windowless castle. Perhaps all of this landscape is a projection on a wall, but to her, it could not be more real… They begin to move more quickly, running toward this Oz.
The bar is starting to empty so she decides to leave. When she is heading for the exit, her eye catches a man staring at her. It is an older man, elegant and very attractive in a devilish almost scary way. When he sees her noticing him, he comes towards her, takes her chin in his hand, a gesture which is threatening by its sudden intimacy and dominance, but the stranger compensates the aggression of his act with a smile that is both endearing and mocking. Se is surprised but doesn't show it, let it happen, waits - she has experience with the guys - and gives him her version of a defiant smile.
He says:” I never never never forgot the blue of your eyes "
(Her eyes are clearly not blue.)
She wants to correct him, to say that he is mistaking her for somebody else, but something stops her. Does she know his face, is it his smell, the gesture? There something like a recognition rising up from the depths of her memory, but it refuses to surface, stays just out of reach, like an unrecognizable phantom, strange but familiar.
He goes on, looking through her, taking his hand of her chin and caressing with it the aura of her hair, never touching it: ” You always bullied me in combing your blond mane, wild and long. ”
(She clearly has no blond hair, it doesn't look like she ever has been blond.)
She doesn't move, doesn't now what to say. She shivers and on that moment she sees her friends at the door. Her rescue. She goes to them, trying not to run. Only when she arrives at the door she looks back at the man. He hasn't moved, is still caressing her hair as if she is still standing there with him.
She doubts for a moment - feeling that he is a part of her, but being unable to pinpoint him in her memories - then shivers again and runs out.
(IF THE ACTRESS HAS BLUE EYES, THE MAN SPEAKS OF BROWN EYES, IF SHE IS BLOND, HE SPEAKS OF BROWN HAIR)
The assistant from the photo shoot arrives with a desperate look on his face. He scans the room looking for the actress. Running over to her table he motions for her to speak to him in the corner. She stays seated, rolls her eyes, and takes off her earrings. She hands them to him in a napkin and turns to continue her conversation.
The actress is sitting close to a man, flirting. Something at the bar catches her eye. We see another man talking to a young woman. The actress watches them. The man whispers into the girl’s ear. She laughs, and we see he is kissing her neck. The actress gets up and excuses herself. Walking over to the bar, she positions herself next to the couple and orders a drink. The man hears her voice and stops suddenly.
[Actress]: Oh, don’t mind me.
[Man]: Good evening, or shall I say morning?
[Actress]: You can say whatever you like, since it obviously isn’t the truth.
[Man]: (to girl) Excuse me.
[Actress]: (to girl) Did he show you his shoulder, the teeth marks, where he had me bite him?
She grabs at his collar and pulls it over to one side. He pushes her against the bar.
[Man]: Maybe we should show her this other little scar, since we’re playing show and tell.
He grabs at her skirt and tries to lift it to reveal her legs. She pushes it back down.
The girl looks at them both in disgust and walks away.
[Man]: Tell me, why such a scene from someone who never returns my calls?
He pauses, then leans in closer to smell her perfume.
[Man}: Forget it, you always get what you want anyway.
The actress fixes him in her stare before he kisses her.
Sitting next to her at the bar is a small child – a girl of, say, 9 years, dressed exactly like her in miniature. The girl holds a glass with a cocktail just like hers. They lock eyes and drink silently for some time. Men swirl about them, but the child just flicks them away like so much dust. Every feeling that the adult model goes through, this child seems to be experiencing as well: she is bored when the model is bored, antsy when the model is restless, and when they taste new drinks, the child says, “Bitter, no?” Finally, the child says, “It’s late.” The model nods. The child turns back to her drink, and the model walks slowly away from the bar, leaving the child sitting solemnly, staring, stirring.
The model opens her mouth to speak.
Everything runs backward.
The entirety of the last 24 hours plays in reverse, with great speed, back to the very moment of her waking.
The model closes her mouth and is silent.
The model walks across the deserted dance floor, it’s time to go home. The DJ plays a sweet, nostalgic tune to close the busy night. As soon as the model heard the music, she freezes as if her legs are glued to the floor, it happens to be her most memorable tune from the past. Tears roll down her face.
Now we see the story about her past visually in line, the model stays as before, but behind her stands the model with a funeral outfit, moaning, behind that is the model holds a man’s head who is covered in blood, stroking his face, behind that is the man giving the model an engagement ring looking very happy, behind that is them sitting on a bench having a passionate kiss.
When the music ends, she goes back to the present time, standing alone on the dance floor.
She smiles to herself and walks away.
* (Need 2 actors for the man, 4 actresses for the model to do “the past” sequence.
* (The tune can be like “The End Of The World” by Skeeter Davis?)
Model is about to hand over her ticket number 09 when she sees hanging next to it the coat belonging to the man who she had met earlier earlier (on the plane) and then in the wrong bar...she presents the ticket, holding it wrong way up (showing number 60) to the busy cloakroom attendant and is given his coat, thus ensuring they must meet again.
The actress approaches the bar exit. In the distance we see the coat check girl talking to a man in a fedora. The actress, however, barely notices them. Stopping suddenly, she begins to dig through her purse looking for her ticket stub. Some items fall from her purse and, cursing, she beds down to grab them. All of the sudden a man's voice:
[Jack]: Looking for this?
He throws the blue ticket stub down on the floor. She looks up.
[Actress]: Jack?
[Jack]: At your service, darling. That was quite a show inside.
[Actress]:You were there?
[Jack]: It's a bit of work keeping up with you but someone has to do it.
[Actress]: Jack...
[Jack]: Still favor champagne for breakfast?
[Actress]: (smiles) Yes..
[Jack]: Let me get your coat.
He takes her white fur YSL coat over the counter and places it around her shoulders. Arm in arm, they walk out of the bar. Leaving, we see them from behind. Close up on his hand resting on the white fur. Dirty fingernails, scraped knuckles, skull ring with diamond eyes.
Her phone rings.
[Actress]: Hello?
(inaudible response)
[Actress]: No, We're done. It's over between us. Haven't I told you?
Model is about to hand over her ticket number 09 when she sees hanging next to it the coat belonging to the man who she had met earlier earlier (on the plane) and then in the wrong bar...she presents the ticket, holding it wrong way up (showing number 60) to the busy cloakroom attendant and is given his coat, thus ensuring they must meet again.
A young, pretty woman with curvy body goes to the coat check area. She is going to leave her beautiful YSL white coat. She gives it to the man in charge of the coat check:
[WOMAN]:Please take care of my coat! It is very expensive, and it is one of my favourite ones!
[COAT CHECK MAN]:Don´t worry Madam. It is 3€.
[WOMAN]: Here you have. Thank you!
When the woman leaves the coat check, the man begins to touch the coat in a luscious way. He is very excited! He touches the lining, and at the same time he begins touching himself. He is a fetichist of female clothes, and he specially gets very turned on with expensive clothes from pretty women.
When the man is about to "explode", he feels the eyes of someone else on his back:
[WOMAN]:WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY YSL COAT, YOU PERVERT???...
Model is about to hand over her ticket number 09 when she sees hanging next to it the coat belonging to the man who she had met earlier earlier (on the plane) and then in the wrong bar...she presents the ticket, holding it wrong way up (showing number 60) to the busy cloakroom attendant and is given his coat, thus ensuring they must meet again.
The Model looks at her ticket, number 09, and is about to present it to the cloakroom attendant when she sees HIS coat ( that MAN from an earlier scene) hanging next to hers. His ticket is number 60, so she holds her ticket upside down thus presenting the number 60 to the busy attendant. She is given his coat, rather then her own, thereby ensuring that they will meet again.
INT. NEW YORK/SOME LOUNGE AT MEAT PACKING DISTRICT - EARLY MORNING (07:00)
Back in the day lounge building actually belonged to one of those old meat packing companies, so it gives the place little bit of slaughter factory feeling. Obviously nowadays it's much more decorated. One thing jumps out of the rest: In the wall of coat checking "room" is huge black and white picture of a woman in the alley who is wearing the Le Smoking Tuxedo.
Model walks out from lounge into the coat check with one of her girlfriend and a guy who is apparently with her friend.
The model whispers something to her friends ear. She winks to her friend and they give farewell kisses to the each others cheeks. Little smile and the friends are gone. Then she proceeds to the coat check, where she takes the coat tag from her purse and gives it to the worker. On a trade she receives her YSL overcoat.
Suddenly her eyes notices the huge picture on the wall. The deja vu moment - the glorious past and even better present moment tangles up together. Time stops. The movements become very dreamy and elegant.
MODELS (VOICE): And here we are again. Two old friends - Dressed to kill and still going. My lucky number... (whispers) twenty four.
The twenty four whisper starts to echoing (multiplying, but peaceful style) around her. She exchanges glances one last time with picture. Tucks herself little bit more inside the jacket and walks to the door.
Doorman opens the door. He seems to be saying something to her, but all we can hear is those whispers. The model waves to him very lightly.
She walks into the night. The camera is now still and we see her just getting further and further down the road. The same way echoes are getting more room. Like they would be coming from everywhere, it's like buildings would be talking to her. The circle has just got bigger... everybody loves the 'edition 24'.
YSL - EDITION 24 text comes to the screen when model is moderately far. The whispers amount starts to decline.
The young lovers pass the coat check, hand in hand.
The coat check 'girl' is a 6 foot transvestite named Gloria. Gloria has a Catherine Deneuve in 'Belle De Jour' look going on. Backcombed honey blonde hair, thick eyelashes.
(Gloria): Where are you two going, it's early.
(Model): We're running away.
(Gloria): Wait!
She grabs 4 giant YSL bags full of clothes, she lifts them up.
(Gloria): What about these? Someone from Yves Saint Laurent dropped them off for you.
The model looks at the man. He is dressed very casually, a white t shirt, jeans, a hat. He shrugs. She is tempted. She moves forward.
She pulls out a classic YSL trench coat, and slips it on and belts it tight.
(Model): You can keep the rest .
The man smiles at the model. He takes her hand and they run off together.
Gloria is left with all the clothes. She pulls them out of the bags flings them in the air and screeches with delight, twirling and whirling in her new YSL Edition 24.
When I walk away I look back, I see her sitting, a towel around her waist. She is peeling an orange which is splatting on her silk beige blouse///
Jill walks away.
She glances back at Mathieu over her shoulder, her beauty radiates.
She retrieves a marvelous fur piece from the hand of a coat check boy, puts it over her shoulder and struts out the door.
FIN
Arriving to the coat check, she gives to the person inside the number 66. The man she saw on the dancefloor that is her supposed boyfriend comes to see her and says:"-It 's not what you think."
The model/actress doesn't even look at him: "- That's all right, i don't need explenations, the letter you send me this afternoon says enough." She approaches to his hear and whispers:"-Just smell..... I'm not yours anymore...."
He looks at her with a surprised face and asks:"-What's that smell??"
She bursts out laughing as Stefano comes to her and asks:"-Model/actress name, Is everything ok?"
She looks at her suppose boyfriend while she takes the arm of Stefano and looking at him into the eyes with the hint of a smile she says:
"- C'est pour les femmes qui s'adonnent à Yves Saint Laurent!" and she laughs, she looks at Stefano and says to him:"- I think I enjoyed enough today, let's go out of here."
She leaves with Stefano, and we can just see their shadow walking out as she takes Stefano by his arm and put her head on his shoulder.We can hear her laughing.
The actress approaches the coat check sweaty and disheveled after a night of dancing. She hands the attendant her ticket. While waiting, she looks at herself in the mirror. Her mascara is a bit smudged and her lipstick has worn off. Looking down at the delicate dress she put on earlier, she sees it is wrinkled and torn in places. Taking her coat, she places it over her shoulders while she slips out of the dress, which she lays across the counter while the attendant looks on. She then belts the coat--transforming it into a day dress. On her way to the exit she rolls the thin silk gown up to fit in her purse. In the last shot she opens the door to the bright morning light.
The music is “New Order - Age Of Consent,” as Marion and Linette appear on the street next to the Thames with in the London Eye in the background. They are dressed in beautiful YSL evening clothes and accompanying them are too handsome men. Everything is correct with the world as they pass into the excitement as they pass underneath a giant shimmering ring composed of golden number 24’s.
Still decked out in their varying regalia from the day, the night, the yurt, they dash into the castle and find themselves in a comfortable bar. Instead of ending their night here, they realize that another day has just begun, so they check their coats and caftans and settle in at a cozy booth, ordering everything on the menu. The model manages to murmur, "Thank you, Jules... Thank you, Jim..." then nods and nods and... Before the food can arrive, they are asleep, all in a pile on top of one another.