More

Clichéiuex

9/10/18

Yes, just add some more vowels… Nineteeeeen Huuuuundred Fooooourty (No, not in English!)

1940, September 9 just past midnight in a darkened hotel room, Venetian blinds pulled up on the left window revealing a neon sign from Martin’s American Bar across the street. A lonely saxophone solo penetrates the night though presumably there is a band or at least a small combo at Martin’s.

Ricky, carrying a guitar case, exits the bar. As the door slowly closes, we hear the vibraphone player from Bob Le Flamboyer.

***

 It was a pretty good set for the novice director, Nico di Palma. His cousin Paolo had written the script in his usual emergent style. Paolo had been making a decent living from his sitcom work, doing stand-up in the Village on nights when he needed to be with people after writing for a dozen hours. Only thirty but twice divorced, his current girlfriend was two steps away from walking out the door. Problem was they’d still have to see each other- she was his agent and a good one too. Paolo never believed in therapy and had given up going to Mass and confession, which confused Susan since Paolo was Jewish.