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 fami