You're too old to go jerk off, so what do you do? I just walk, that's all, i like to walk! Brad lashes out and grabs paul's other hand, which he's been holding tightly clenched shut. Paul uncurls his fingers, revealing the crushed remnants of a bit of toast, his palm slick with a greasy oleo smear. Elaine stands just inside the screen door with a cup of tea. Brad's eyes become calculated, wondering how much she's seen. Elaine keeps her tone level, betraying nothing: elaine i saw you coming back, thought you'd like some tea. (beat) Are you coming in?
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Don't see what harm it does. Brad it's not about harm, it's about rules. You probably don't think an old fart like you has to mind rules anymore, but that's just not true. Brad's eyes keep shifting-he obviously doesn't mind abusing the elderly as long as he doesn't get caught doing. Paul i'm sorry if I broke the rules. Brad you got no business up in those woods anyway, especially in the rain. What if you fall and bust a hip, huh? Who you think's gonna have to hoss your sorry old bacon back down here? Paul you're homework hurting me! Brad what do you do up there, anyway?
Brad out for a little stroll, paulie? Paul tries to pull away, but Dolan's got him tight. Brad what's with this poncho you year got on, huh? Paul i got it off the wall there. There's a whole row of them. Brad but not for you, paulie, that's the thing. Those are for the staff. Paul i just borrowed.
He takes another bite of toast, moves.and we pan with him to reveal a pair of old wooden storage shacks along the path up ahead. Shack - morning dark in here, cobwebby and decrepit. We father's see paul approaching outside the grimy window. He steps up to the glass and shades his eyes, peering curiously in as we dissolve to: ext. Nursing home - day paul approaches the back door, returning from his walk. He reaches for the d a figure in white lunges from behind the dumpster to grab his wrist. He whirls, gasping in fright-it's Brad Dolan, wearing his orderly's uniform.
It's silent here, like a church. The only sounds we hear are the twittering of the birds and the hammering of the woodpecker. A rustling sound makes paul freeze. He turns, becomes transfixed. Softly: paul oh,. Reverse angle reveals a magnificent buck, not twenty feet away, misty breath punching the cold morning air. They watch each other for an endless moment, both standing stock still.and then the animal bounds away, vanishing into the foliage. Paul lets out a breath, shakes his head in wonder.
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He helps himself to one and eases outside, making good his escape. Nursing home - establishing - morning nestled in a valley of wooded hills, a drizzly mist rolling over the treetops. G., coming up the ridge in his borrowed poncho. He looks back at the valley below, inhales deeply- this is a man who loves his walks. He pulls a piece of toast from his pocket and starts to nibble as he presses up on the ridge. Low angle: nursing home and ridge beyond.
And we see year paul from a distance, just a speck trudging up toward the treeline. A pickup truck rumbles into frame and parks, a bumper sticker looming large: "i have seen God and His Name Is Newt Gingrich". Brad dolan gets out, an orderly in his late 20's/early 30's, arriving for work in jeans and cheesy plaid shirt. He gazes up toward the ridge, scowling and muttering softly: brad old fuck. He slams the door and heads for the nursing home. As camera booms down through the trees to find paul wandering a wooded path, munching a tidbit of toast, looking for all the world like red Riding hood in his plastic poncho.
The floor is a limey, institutional green. Paul comes into view, spry for his age, murmurs an occasional greeting. Breakfast room - morning dozens of retirees are having breakfast, sipping weak coffee or tea. Some chat and gossip, other are content to keep their own company, some just stare slackly into space. Paul enters, sees elaine connelly sitting with a few other ladies, sipping tea. She's 80, refined and elegant, his best friend here.
She gives him a good-morning smile. He gives her a rakish wink in return, which makes her smiles all the more. Paul reaches past the people at the counter and sneaks two pieces of cold leftover toast off a serving plate. He tosses Elaine another look-catch ya later-and exits. Hallway past kitchen - morning paul slips to the back door unnoticed. Identical red plastic rain ponchos line the wall on pegs.
Nic nového v cukrátkovém obalu s nápisem
And off that horrible voice,. Georgia pines nursing home - morning(present day). A clock radio spews the morning weather report, abruptly pulling us into the present with a entry prediction of rain. Edgecomb, late 70's/early 80's, wakes to another day. Paul's room - morning paul stands at his bathroom mirror, meticulously buttoning his shirt. He picks up a hairbrush, starts tidying his hair. Corridor - morning the old and infirm haunt these corridors like parts ghosts. A woman inches along on a walker. A man shuffles by with a rolling.
Suddenly, a man withotgun comes crashing through the cattails, wiping through frame and exiting.then another d med with rifles, plowing through the brush, exiting frame.and now comes klaus detterick, a farmer one step above shirt-tail poor, a double-barrel shotgun in the crook of his arm. He pauses, horrified, seeing the scrap of cloth. He pulls it loose, turns back, screaming something in anguish.and still more men come crashing into view, flooding by us with dreamlike, slow-motion grace. One man is leading a team of dogs, trying to untangle the leads. Deputy rob mcgee is shouting for everybody to stay together.and under it all, we hear a sibilant, frightening whisper: whispering voice (V.O.). You love your sister? You make any noise, know what happens?
A song begins, distant as a faded memory on an old Victrola: Once i built a railroad, made it run. Made it race against time. Once i built a railroad, now it's other, can you father's spare a dime. Opening credit sequence plays against footage of the Great Depression, images haunting and sepia-toned, defining an era. The bread e soup e dust bowl refugees heading west with their possessions on their backs and no hope in their e strutting gangster royalty flaunting their bootleg entire generation of lost youth riding the. Army troops raining truncheon blows on the half-starved and forgotten veterans of World War One as "hooverville" is set afire in the very shadow of the nation's capitol. All these faces, all these lives, in a world not really so very long ago.
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