THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN
by
Jeanne Rosenberg
EXT TRAIN TRACKS DAY
Natty wanders alone along the railroad tracks, walking the rail, the puppy bouncing along behind her, The city skyline rising in the distance.
EXT St. RITZ DAY
Natty approaches the MAILMAN outside the st. Ritz, a glimmer of hope sparkling in her eye. He looks through the handful of letters he carries and shakes his head no.
Natty nods and manages a thin smile, trying to hide her disappointment behind a shrug.
EXT ROOFTOP DUSK
Natty perches on the edge of the roof, her feet dangling over the side, her eyes staring vacantly down at the world below.
INT SALLY’S APT. NIGHT
Sally weaves through her room wearing a feather boa around her neck and worn out bedroom slippers on her feet. There are old pictures from her chorus girl days hanging all over the walls.
She SINGS mournfully along with the RADIO…Ten Cents A Dance…I’m In The Mood For Love…doing her own imitation of a sultry, sexy, torch singer.
She catches sight of herself in the mirror, purses her lips in a pout, and blows herself a kiss.
A CREAKING NOISE on the stairs outside pulls her rudely from her fantasies.
She crosses through the room, obviously annoyed.
INT ST. RITZ LOBBY NIGHT
Sally glides across the lobby and takes up a position at the bottom of the stairs, glaring up at Natty, arms folded across her chest.
SALLY
Where do you think you’re going?
NATTY
Out.
SALLY
At this hour?
NATTY
Just for a walk.
SALLY
Like hell. Upstairs. That’s
where you’re going Miss Smarty
Pants. Maybe he let you run
wild but not me. Understand?
It’s different with me.
Sally starts up the stairs toward Natty, pointing her thick finger toward the top.
SALLY
Go on. Get moving.
NATTY
You’re not the boss of me.
SALLY
Bullcrackers! Now move it.
Sally starts menacingly upward and Natty quickly retreats, scurrying up the stairs. Sally watches her go then shuffles triumphantly back to her room.
EXT MAXWELL STREET/LEFTY’S CART DAY
A long-faced, despondent Natty sits on an overturned bucket next to Lefty, inside his crate. The puppy laps milk from a saucer on the ground between them.
NATTY
You ever ride the rails, Lefty?
LEFTY
What are you thinking about,
girl?
NATTY
Nothing.
LEFTY
Good. ’cause it’s hell out
there. I’ve seen fellas get
their legs chopped off under the
wheels. Just like that. And
Lord help you if you’re wearing
a pair of shoes some tough guy
takes a fancy to.
Lefty shoots her a probing glance, hoping hers scared some sense into her.
LEFTY
Now quit feeling so damn sorry
for yourself.
EXT FRANKIE’S STREET LATE DAY
A still despondent Natty turns down a dilapidated, semi-residential street, and walks down the block, lost in self pity. An angry CROWD gathering ahead grabs her attention and pulls her thoughts from herself.
She sees a Police Van parked next to the curb.
The crowd BOOS and HISSES as POLICE lead a WOMAN in a baggy, faded housedress out of a building. The woman is followed by her 5 CHILDREN. The youngest girl, a toddler, is carried by the oldest boy.
Natty sucks in her breath as she sees this boy.
NATTY
Frankie!…
Frankie looks at Natty but turns away quickly, embarrassed.
Frankie’s mother watches tight-lipped as WORKMEN carry her family’s belongings down to the street and pile them roughly in a heap.
Frankie’s DAD follows the rest of the family out of the building. He can’t lift his eyes. He seems a broken, shriveled man.
The crowd grows angrier.
Someone throws a rock. It strikes a policeman. He retaliates with his nightstick.
More rocks sail through the air. And more nightsticks lash out.
The MOUNTED POLICE move in.
There’s a loud CLATTER as someone spills a load of marbles onto the street.
The police horses WHINNY and SCREAM as their hooves slide on marbles. They lose their balance and CRASH to the pavement.
Natty picks up a rock and takes aim at a policeman, caught up in the frenzied energy of this ugly, violent mob.
INT SALLY’S APT. DUSK
Sally sits at her kitchen table turning the pages of one of her many scrapbooks, gaudy jewels draped around her neck and overdone makeup slapped on her face.
She looks up from her old pictures, a doubtful frown replacing the sentimental smile on her face. She drains the glass of whiskey sitting on the table.
SALLY
…What if he’s never going to
send for her? What if he’s
going to leave her here?…
She takes another swig of whiskey, straight from the bottle this time. Then she shakes her head and returns to her photos and her memories.
LOUD KNOCKS at the door make her jump with a start. She SHOUTS through the closed door.
SALLY
I’m coming, I’m coming. Hold
your horses.
She quickly hides the whiskey bottle in the bread box then crosses to the door and pulls it abruptly open.
SALLY
Yeah!?
Sally stares into the faces of 2 stern POLICEMEN who hold a sullen faced Natty sandwiched roughly between them.
COP
You responsible for this kid,
lady? Because if you are, the
Judge’ll want to see you in the
morning.
SALLY
Jesus H. Christ…
Sally rolls her eyes to the ceiling.
END PART 6
Part 7 Monday, 12/03/12
A script analysis of her favorite childhood novel – written as a USC class assignment – led Jeanne Rosenberg to her first Hollywood writing assignment on The Black Stallion. Switching from documentary filmmaker to narrative screenwriter, Jeanne studied her craft while working as a script supervisor on numerous films before completing her first original screenplay, The Journey of Natty Gann. She has been writing as well as producing and directing ever since. In addition, Jeanne has taught graduate screenwriting at USC and National University.
