Paul Schrader - Taxi Driver: 471 Central Park West lyrics

Published

0 275 0

Paul Schrader - Taxi Driver: 471 Central Park West lyrics

CUT TO: INSIDE TRAVIS' APARTMENT Travis is sitting at the table. There are some new items on the table: His giant econo-sized bottle of vitamins, a giant econo-sized bottle of aspirins, a pint of apricot brandy, a partial loaf of cheap white bread. On the wall behind the table hang two more items: A gag sign reading "One of These Days I'm Gonna Get Organezizied" and an orange-and-black bumper sticker for Charles Palantine. TRAVIS (V.O.): May 8, 1972. My life has taken another turn again. The days move along with regularity... C.U. of notebook: Travis is no longer sitting at the desk. The pencil rests on the open notebook. LATER THAT DAY: TRAVIS has pulled his straight-backed chair around and is watching his small portable TV, which rests on the upright melon crate. A cereal bowl partially filled with milk rests in his lap. Travis pours a couple shots of the apricot brandy into the bowl, dips folded chunks of white bread into the mixture, and eats them. Travis is watching early evening NEWS PROGRAM. TV background SOUND. Charles Palantine is being interviewed somewhere on the campaign trail. TRAVIS (V.O.)(CONTD): ... one day indistinguishable from the next, a long continuous chain, then suddenly - there is a change. Betsy is walking down a midtown street when Travis suddenly appears before her. He has been waiting. Travis tries to make conversation but she doesn't listen. She motions for him to go away and keeps on walking. Travis, protesting, follows. CUT TO: INT. BUILDING - DAY Travis speaks intensely into a wall pay phone. TRAVIS (V.O.): I tried to call her several times. We hear Travis' Voice on the phone. TRAVIS (smoking a cigarette): You feeling better? You said you didn't feel so good... TRAVIS (V.O.): But after the first call, she would no longer come to the phone. Travis holds the receiver in his hand. The other party has hung up. TRACKING SHOT across interior lower wall of TRAVIS' APARTMENT. Against the stark wall there is a row of wilted and dying floral arrangements. Each one of the four or five bouquets is progressively more wilted than the one closer to the door. They have been returned. TRAVIS (V.O.): I also sent flowers with no luck. I should not dwell on such things, but set them behind me. The smell of the flowers only made me sicker. The headaches got worse I think I've got stomach cancer. I should not complain so. "You're only as healthy as you feel." A drama is acted out at PALANTINE HEADQUARTERS: Travis, groggy and red-eyed from lack of sleep, walks into the campaign headquarters about NOONTIME. Betsy is standing near the rear of the office; she ducks from sight when she sees Travis enter. Travis' path is cut short by Tom's large-framed body. There is no live sound. TRAVIS (V.O.): I realize now how much she is like the others, so cold and distant. Many people are like that. They're like a union. Travis tries to push his way past Tom but Tom grabs him. Travis says something sharply to Tom and the two scuffle. Tom, by far the taller and stronger, quickly overcomes Travis, wrenching his arm behind his back. Travis kicks and protests as Tom leads him to the front door. ON THE SIDEWALK Travis' efforts quickly subside when Tom motions to a nearby POLICEMAN. Travis quiets down and walks off. CUT TO: EXT. Travis is again making his way through the garish urban night. He stops for a PASSENGER on PARK AVE. A middle-aging professorial executive. C.U. TRAVIS: His face is expressionless. The MAN makes himself comfortable in the back seat. PROFESSIONAL PASSENGER: Jackson Heights. Travis has no intention of driving out to Jackson Heights and coming back with a fare. TRAVIS: I'm off duty. PROFESSIONAL PASSENGER: You mean you don't want to go out to Jackson Heights? TRAVIS: No, I'm off duty. PROFESSIONAL PASSENGER: Then how come your "Off Duty" light wasn't on. TRAVIS switches on the "Off Duty" light. TRAVIS: It was on. (gesturing toward top of taxi) it just takes a while to warm up. Like a TV. TRAVIS doesn't budge. PROFESSIONAL PASSENGER curses to himself and exits cab. Travis takes off. POV as Travis' eyes dwell on the young HIP COUPLES coming out of a East Side movie house. LATER THAT NIGHT, TRAVIS pulls over for a young (mid-twenties) MAN wearing a leather sports jacket. TRAVIS eyes his pa**enger in rear-view mirror. YOUNG PASSENGER: 471 Central Park West. EXT. TRAVIS' taxi speeds off. LATER, TRAVIS' taxi slows down as it approaches 400 block of Central Park West. Travis checks apartment numbers. YOUNG PASSENGER: Just pull over to the curb a moment. TRAVIS turns the wheel. YOUNG PASSENGER: Yeah, that's fine. Just sit here. TRAVIS waits impa**ively. The motor ticks away. After a long pause, the PASSENGER speaks: YOUNG PASSENGER: Cabbie, ya see that light up there on the seventh floor, three windows from this side of the building? CAMERA CLOSES IN on 417 Central Park West: TRACKING UP to the seventh floor, it moves three windows to the right. TRAVIS (V.O.): Yeah. A young WOMAN wearing a slip crosses in front of the light. YOUNG PASSENGER (O.S.): Ya see that woman there? TRAVIS (O.S.): Yeah. YOUNG PASSENGER (O.S.): That's my wife. (a beat) But it ain't my apartment. (a beat) A n******g lives there. (a beat) She left me two weeks ago. It took me this long to find out where she went. (a beat) I'm gonna k** her. C.U. TRAVIS' face: it is devoid of expression. YOUNG PASSENGER: What do you think of that, cabbie? C.U. YOUNG PASSENGER's face: it is gaunt, drained of blood, full of fear and anger. Travis does not respond. YOUNG PASSENGER: Huh? (a beat) What do you think of that, huh? Travis shrugs, gesturing toward meter. YOUNG PASSENGER: I'm gonna k** her with a .44 Magnum pistol. CAMERA returns to SEVENTH FLOOR WINDOW. Woman is standing in the light. YOUNG PASSENGER (O.S.): Did you ever see what a .44 can do to a woman's face, cabbie? (pause) Did you ever see what it can do to a woman's p**y, cabbie? Travis says nothing. YOUNG PASSENGER (O.S.): I'm going to put it right up to her, cabbie. Right in her, cabbie. You must think I'm real sick, huh? A real pervert. Sitting here and talking about a woman's p**y and a .44, huh? CAMERA CLOSES IN on Travis' face: He is watching the woman in the seventh floor window with complete and total absorption. It's the same glazed-over stare we saw in his eyes as he watched the p**no movie.

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.