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MOVIES YOU WILL NEVER SEE/Empires of Crime/Part 7

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*For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13. Use Contact Us, above, for submissions. *Heywood Gould is the author of 9 screenplays including "Rolling Thunder,"Fort Apache, The Bronx, "Boys From Brazil"and "Cocktail." 

EMPIRES OF CRIME /Part 7
  By Heywood Gould

                           ACT FOUR/Part 1  EXT. DELANCEY STREET. DAY A balmy spring day. The streets teem with IMMIGRANT HUMANITY.Tom Dewey, sweating in a black suit, is speaking earnestly to a group of PEDDLERS, who keep shouting him down.                       TOM               Look, give me a chance.               I’ve come all the way               downtown to convince you               people that Republican               is not a dirty word. Moans and groans. OLD PEDDLER               Take off your coat, have a               cold drink. It’s a long               subway back ride up town.                       TOM               Honest government will               put money in your pockets.               It will provide for your               families. Insure a better               future for your children.               You don’t have to accept               intimidation or threats.               You don’t have to pay off               every cop or thug. This is               a free country...                       PUSHCART PEDDLER               For the rich.                       TOM               For you, too. You can               change things. Your vote               counts.                       OLD PEDDLER               I know, I voted four times               last week. Fifty cents a               vote.                       TOM               I understand your cynicism.               But we have laws that               protect your right to do               business without bribery or               corruption...                       PUSHCART PEDDLER               There’s our protection... ACROSS THE STREET Charley and his boys, Davey, Vito and Albert, are back slapping, shaking hands, flipping coins to the kids.                       TOM               Who can Luciano protect               you from?                       PUSHCART PEDDLER               From Luciano, who else? Everyone laughs.                       OLD PEDDLER               When we need money, your               upstanding Republicans at               the bank won’t lend it to               us. So we borrow from               Charley Luciano...                       TOM               And he makes you pay it               back twenty cents on the               dollar.                       PUSHCART PEDDLER               Maybe, but he comes through               with the cash, no questions               asked.                       FISHMONGER               Business is done in a               different way down here, Mr.               Dewey. You won’t change that. INT. ARNOLD ROTHSTEIN'S BILLIARD ROOM. NIGHT. Leather and dark wood. The valet serves drinks on a silver tray. Meyer watches, cue in hand as AR is circles the table.                       ROTHSTEIN               Two to one I make the nine               ball in the corner, off two               cushions into the side,               Meyer.                       MEYER               I wouldn't give you odds               if you said the balls were               gonna roll in by themselves,               AR. Rothstein laughs and turns to Charley, who is sitting on the couch with Rabinowitz, the union organizer.                       ROTHSTEIN               And if I laid a hundred to               one that I could get               Weinberg and the Dairy               Owners Association to offer               the truck drivers a raise to               a dollar an a half an hour..?                       CHARLEY               I’d never bet against you,               AR.                       ROTHSTEIN               Smart boy, I already fixed it.               Just waiting for you to sign               on the dotted line, Mr.               Rabinowitz.                       RABINOWITZ               What do I do to get this raise?                       ROTHSTEIN               Lepke and Gurrah Shapiro have               been very helpful in these               negotiations.                       RABINOWITZ               They’re the bosses’ goons.                       MEYER               So make ‘em vice presidents.               Then they’ll be the union’s               goons.                       CHARLEY               All you gotta do is raise               the dues a dollar a month               and kick it back to Lepke.                       RABINOWITZ               I’m gonna be the front man               while the gangsters control               the union.                       MEYER               You wanna get more money               for your members, don’t               you?                (offers a wad of bills)               Don’t worry, the front               man don’t get left out in               the cold.                       CHARLEY               Gotta take bribes, kid.               People get nervous dealin’               with an honest man. Gotta               be a crook if you want’em               to trust you. Rabinowitz senses the subtle threat. He takes the money. INT. WAREHOUSE. NIGHT. A CRAP GAME. HIGH ROLLERS  shoving, shouting, throwing money down. Meyer, watches the stickman handle thousands of dollars. Charley, in a dark suit with a yellow and black handkerchief peeking out of the breast pocket, plays the host, smiling and backslapping, but always with a cold eye on the action. Benny, groomed and dapper, flirts with the DEBS at the door. Meyer takes a stack of bills off the craps table. The other two gravitate toward him and they walk toward the office.                       MEYER               We’re up over fourteen               G’s.                       BENNY               AR’s gotta be happy with               that.                       MEYER               That don’t even cover               expenses. You know how much               he gives out?                       CHARLEY               He don’t tell nobody.                       MEYER               He don’t have to. Do the               numbers. He controls four               hundred pool rooms in New               York, takin’ bets, sellin’               lotteries. Each one pays               three hundred a month to               the local cops. Five               hundred crap games, each               payin’ a hundred and fifty,               two hundred card joints,               hundred fifty a month.               Twenty fancy casinos for               the carriage trade. Five               hundred a month to stay in               business.                       CHARLEY               My head’s achin’ from all               this arithmetic.                       MEYER               Two hundred and thirty               five G’s a year to the               cops just to stay in               business. And whaddya               think he gives the District               Leader and Assemblyman?                       CHARLEY               Marrone, AR’s got the whole               city fixed. INT. OFFICE. NIGHT. The three enter a cramped, windowless room. At a desk, a BOOKKEEPER in a green eyeshade is counting money. In the corner RED LEVINE, a hulking, red headed hood is playing solitaire. Lansky picks up a stack of bills, tied with a rubber band.                       MEYER               What’s the count?                       BOOKKEEPER               Thirty nine hundred in               twenties...Without removing               the rubber band, Lansky               riffles the bills.                       MEYER               Thirty-eight sixty....                       BOOKKEEPER               I counted those bills three               times... Benny cuffs him in the back of the head.                       BENNY               Whaddya arguin’... Meyer throws the stack back at him.                       MEYER               I told ya: put the twenties               in four hundred dollar piles,               twenty bills to a stack.               Fives, fifty, singles a               hundred. Charley yanks               Levine’s tie loose and begins               to retie it.                       CHARLEY               You know what a gavone is?               You walk around like a slob               you don’t represent me.                       MEYER                 (to the Bookkeeper)               Get the numbers right to               the penny. Treat my money               with the respect it               deserves...                       BOOKKEEPER               Your money. I thought it               was Rothstein’s.                       MEYER               Some of it. But none of               it’s yours, remember               that. Benny cuffs him again.                       BENNY               Yeah. You got a future... The boys walk out, laughing. INT. ROTHSTEIN’S CASINO. NIGHT. A festive, glittering cross section of New York night life. SOCIALITES in evening clothes, GAMBLERS, POLITICIANS, SHOWGIRLS. Rothstein circulates, gladhanding, signing chits. CHARLEY, MEYER AND BENNY enter and walk cockily to the back, stopping to laugh and back slap at a few tables before reaching Rothstein.                       ROTHSTEIN               Hey boys, did we break even? Meyer whispers a figure.                       ROTHSTEIN (CONT'D)               Any winners? Always gotta               send one sucker home happy.               Stick around I got a big               surprise. At his signal a JAZZ BAND strikes up and marches out, followed by WAITERS carrying buckets of champagne, Rothstein mounts a roulette table and announces:                       ROTHSTEIN (CONT'D)               Bar’s open, kids. Eat, drink               and be merry for  tomorrow               we’ll be dry.                       BENNY               Somebody’s birthday?                       ROTHSTEIN               Yeah, ours. He holds up the front page of the New York Times. VOLSTEAD ACT PASSES. ALCOHOL DECLARED ILLEGAL. The Daily News: THE PARTY’S OVER... ALCOHOL DECLARED ILLEGAL..                       ROTHSTEIN               The geniuses in Washington               just passed the Volstead               Act. As of midnight tonight               alcohol consumption is                 illegal in the US of A.               Know what that means?                       MEYER               A lotta sober people in               the morning.                       ROTHSTEIN                  (pouring champagne)               Not for long. Look at these               people. You think they’re               gonna stop drinkin’ because               Congress says so? They’re               gonna drink even more. And               we’re gonna give ‘em all               they want.                       (toasting)               Here’s to our leaders in               Washington. They just                handed the whole country               over to us. INT. REPUBLICAN CLUB. NIGHT. A celebration. Champagne corks are popping. The normally dour Republicans are toasting each other. Tom is standing off to the side watching with disapproval. A YOUNG REPUBLICAN offers him a glass.                       YOUNG REPUBLICAN               C’mon Tom, have your last               legal cocktail.                       TOM               I’m not much of a drinker.               Guess I won’t miss it.                       YOUNG REPUBLICAN               You won’t have to. I’ve got               three cases of scotch in the               basement. And I’ve got a guy               who’ll get us all we want...                       TOM               Who’s this guy?                       YOUNG REPUBLICAN                        (with a wink)               You know. A friend of Arnold               Rothstein’s.                       PORTLY REPUBLICAN               C’mon boy crack open another               case of that French seltzer               water... Tom sees the irony.                       TOM               So we’re all going to               end up making the gangsters               rich.                       YOUNG REPUBLICAN               Richer my boy... A lot richer. END Part 1/Act Four Next: Part 2/Act Four: An Empire is Born In a new department the Daily Event will reoffer some of these scripts. Read them and decide: would you like to have seen this movie? Our first script is EMPIRES OF CRIME. Seven years in development it is a six part mini-series commissioned by a broadcast network and later reacquired by a cable station. The story is about the founders of Organized Crime, Meyer Lansky, and "Lucky" Luciano, their fifty year partnership and the empire they created. Their friendships and families, lives and loves. It is also about their implacable enemy Thomas Dewey, a young Republican attorney who built a political career prosecuting the Mob that propelled him to the NY Governor's Mansion and almost to the White House. *For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13 Use Contact Us, above, for submissions.

 


		

MOVIES YOU WILL NEVER SEE/Empires of Crime/Part 6

*For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13. Use Contact Us, above, for submissions.

*Heywood Gould is the author of 9 screenplays including “Rolling Thunder,” Fort Apache, The Bronx,” Boys From Brazil,” and “Cocktail.”

EMPIRES OF CRIME/Part 6

By

Heywood Gould


ACT THREE


NEW YORK, 1918

INT. MOVIE THEATER. NIGHT.

ON SCREEN—a NEWSREEL shows AMERICAN TROOPS disembarking from a ship, greeted by CHEERING CROWDS…The AUDIENCE SINGS “OVER THERE” The subtitle reads:”WAR OVER…`100,000 AMERICAN TROOPS COME HOME VICTORIOUS. PAN TO the AUDIENCE where Meyer and Benny watch with their young GIRLFRIENDS… The AUDIENCE is singing the popular WWI tune:

         AUDIENCE
And we won’t give up/’Til
it’s over/Over there…

         BENNY
(singing)
Eighteen bucks a month
them doughboys were
gettin’. Over there…

         MEYER
(sings back)
Eighteen bucks a month.
A hundred thousand guys.
We coulda run some crap


INT. FAT AL’S NIGHT.

A raucous Lower East Side dive, smoke filled, festive, crude. A JAZZ BAND swings. Meyer, Benny and their girls push through the writhing COUPLES on the dance floor to their table.

         BENNY’S GIRL
I never been to a place like
this….

         BENNY
Yeah and you learned how
to smooch from a rabbi…

         MEYER
(to his girl)
Get a drink, doll, I’m gonna
look over the action…


He walks over to a noisy CRAP TABLE.

         CHARLEY
Stick’ em up, pal…


Meyer turns and sees Charley older and harder, but with the same mischievous glint in his eye. He is dressed in the loud colors of a street pimp. There are two cold eyed THUGS standing behind him.

Meyer hugs him, gleefully.

         MEYER
Hey Salvatore.

         CHARLEY
(returning the hug)
Not Salvatore no more. It’s
Charley, Charley Luciano,
Maier.

         MEYER
It’s Meyer Lansky now. I
got sick of people callin’
me the Mayor.

         CHARLEY
Yeah and I learned my lesson
in the can. All these guys
callin’ me Sally like I was a
girl.

         MEYER
I bet you made ‘em sorry.
The two laugh and pound
each other on the back.

         CHARLEY
I missed you guys.

         MEYER
Yeah me too. We don’t know
where to go for the good
spaghetti…

         CHARLEY
You still with that bughouse
shlammer?


Benny runs over, laughing and grabs Charley in a bear hug.

         BENNY
What’d you call me?

         CHARLEY
(fingers Benny’s loud suit)
How many guys you rob to
get those rags?

         BENNY
A broad bought it for me.

MEYER
So, you makin’ money?

         CHARLEY
(flashing a HUGE ROLL)
What do you call this?


Benny pulls out a big WAD of BILLS.

         BENNY
Mine’s bigger.

         CHARLEY
How about you, Meyer?


Meyer takes out a couple of crumpled bills.

         MEYER
I hide my money in my
sister’s drawers…

         BENNY
And if you know his sister
that’s the safest place in
the world…

         CHARLEY
You guys wanna go for corned
beef?

         BENNY
We’ll dump our girls. You
dump yours.


The two thugs move up with menacing glares, but Charley restrains them.

         CHARLEY
This here’s Albert Anastasia
and Vito Genovese.

         MEYER
Hiya boys…Just jokin’.
Seeya at Bernstein’s,
Charley..


As they walk away…

         ANASTASIA
Whaddya wanna hang out with
those Hebes?

         CHARLEY
I was runnin’ with Meyer
before I knew you was
alive. Them guys are my
best friends.


INT. DELICATESSEN. NIGHT

Charley is wolfing down a corned beef sandwich while Benny tells a war story.

         BENNY
So the guy says you gonna
fight me you little shrimp
and Meyer knocks him ass
over tin cup…

         CHARLEY
You gotta have a little
Sicilian in you, Meyer. The
way you drop a guy just for
lookin’ funny at you.

         MEYER
And you gotta have a little
Jew, the way you love that
corned beef. Hey, see that
guy sittin’ with Lepke.


ARNOLD ROTHSTEIN

Mid forties, elegant in a top hat and evening clothes is gobbling deli with Buchalter and Shapiro. He waves over at Meyer.

         MEYER
That’s Arnold Rothstein.
They call him The Brain…
The guy owns every politician
in town.

         CHARLEY
So what’s he doin’ with those
headbusters?

         MEYER
He owns them, too. Sets up all
the labor deals. High class
gamblin’ joints. Does it with
class. No shlammin’, no shootin’.
If you woulda known him you
wouldn’t have spent a minute in
jail.

         BENNY
How’d you get caught anyway,
a smart guy like you?

         CHARLEY
Cops grabbed me with a hatbox
of full of nose candy.

         MEYER
You still sellin’ hop to
hooers?

         CHARLEY
It’s a good business. Little
package big money. I’d be
walkin’ around today if that
pimp Motchie hadn’t ratted
me out.

         BENNY
Can’t let these rats think
they can get away with
squealin’.

         CHARLEY
Motchie’s in with the cops.
I touch him they’ll be all
over me.

         MEYER
So we’ll get him for you.

         CHARLEY
You’d do that for me?

         MEYER
Yeah. And then you get
somebody for us. Deal?

         CHARLEY
(hugging him, laughing)
I shoulda known you weren’t
doin’ no friendly favors…
Deal…


INT. NEW YORK REPUBLICAN CLUB. NIGHT.

A paneled club room. A group of portly businessmen, more interested in their cigars than their guest speaker, Fiorello La Guardia. All except for Tom who listens with interest.

         LA GUARDIA
For too long the Republican
Party has been content to
control the upstate vote and
leave New York City to the
crooks in Tammany Hall.

         AN OLD REPUBLICAN
We have no influence with the
foreign element, Mr. La
Guardia.

         LA GUARDIA
You’re not trying. These people
come from cultures of bribery
and intimidation. They have to
be educated in the American
way of life..

         ANOTHER REPUBLICAN
The police are corrupt. The whole
area is a sinkhole of graft and
depravity.

         TOM
The gangsters get away
with murder in broad daylight.
They are accepted in the
community.

         LA GUARDIA
They’re not accepted, sir.
They’re feared and hated.

         TOM
So if a young Republican
challenged them in their
territory…

         LA GUARDIA
The first politician who stands
up to the racketeers will be a
hero to thousands of new voters.


Tom nods; he’s getting an idea.

EXT. ESSEX STREET. NIGHT

Motchie parades down the street with his “girls,” speaking loudly, brushing people aside. He meets Meyer and Benny coming the other way.

         BENNY
Well look who’s here.

         MEYER
You meet the best people
on Essex Street, dontcha know.

         MOTCHIE
Hey boys. Haven’t seen you
around lately, Benny.

         BENNY
Not crazy about the
merchandise, Motchie.
If I wanna screw an old
broad I can go to my cousin
Ruthie.

         MOTCHIE
Hey, I’ll get you anything
you want. Come down to my
joint on Bayard Street.
Getcha a pipe, too.

         BENNY
That’s more like it…

EXT.CHINATOWN.NIGHT

Motchie leads the boys down a dark, narrow street. CHINESE bustle by, heads down.

         MOTCHIE
I been hearin’ a lot about
you boys. Workin’ with
Lepke.

         MEYER
Industrial management. We
been hearin’ a lot about you,
too…

         MOTCHIE
Yeah, I’m spreadin’ out. Got
a joint uptown at the Abbey
Hotel.


Meyer looks around; the street is empty. He grabs Motchie and walks him toward a basement entrance.

         MOTCHIE
Hey, this ain’t the place.


From behind, Benny jams an ICE PICK into Motchie’s spine. He screams and goes rigid. Meyer drags him down the steps. Benny jumps down after and plunges the ice pick into the back of his neck. He goes limp. The boys jump out and walk away, Benny tossing the pick as they turn the corner.

INT. SINGING CLASS. NIGHT.

Tom Dewey, now in his early twenties, is standing at a piano, straining to hit the high notes in Pagliacci. In the class: FRANCES HUTT, a petite, pretty soprano winces at every clinker. The MAESTRO, a temperamental Italian, rises from the piano.

         MAESTRO
Mr. Dewey, may I ask: are
you studying another
profession?

         TOM
I’m at Columbia Law School.

         MAESTRO
Well don’t ever sing in
front of a jury. You’ll
lose the case…


INT. DRUGSTORE. NIGHT.

Frances and Tom sit in a booth sipping sodas.

         FRANCES
You have to work up to the
high notes.


She demonstrates, singing a flawless scale. The CUSTOMERS applaud and Tom shakes his head with an admiring smile.

          TOM
I’ll never sing like that.
I’ll never hold an audience
spellbound.

          FRANCES
There’s no better stage
than a courtroom.

          TOM
Or a political debate. I’m
getting active in the
Republican Club…

          FRANCES
Won’t get much applause
there. Democrats run this
town.

          TOM
Not for long. I heard a
man named La Guardia speak
the other night. He says
the party needs young men
to carry its message to
the people.

          FRANCES
Tom Dewey the pride of
Oswosso, Michigan, rides
into the big city on his
white horse guns blazing,
and throws all the bad
guys out.

          TOM
Makes a good story,
doesn’t it?

          FRANCES
Let’s just say you’ll sing
the lead in Rigoletto
before you clean up New
York.


INT. ITALIAN BAKERY. NIGHT.

Benny and Meyer sit at a marble table eating cheesecake. Across the room Charley is standing, hat in hand, in front of Joe Masseria, who has gotten fatter since we first saw him. The boys watch in amazement as Charley kisses his ring.

         BENNY
You see that?


Charley returns with a smile.

         CHARLEY
Okay you’re in. I told
Masseria you were workin’
with me.

         MEYER
What does that get us?

         CHARLEY
Protection. We can run any
racket we want in this
neighborhood as long as we
throw him somethin’.

          BENNY
What makes him so big?

          CHARLEY
He’s kinda the head of the
club that runs everything.

          MEYER
How do we join this club?

          CHARLEY
You don’t, it’s for Italians
only. This guy snaps his finger
and a thousand greaseballs kiss
his hand and call him Don
Giuseppe like he’s still in the
old country. He’s a fat pig,
don’t know from nothin’.
But the crumbs off his table is
like the biggest loaf of bread
you ever seen.

         BENNY
I could stroll over there
right now and cut open that
tub of guts.

         MEYER
Then you’d have a thousand
Italians with a vendetta
against you. We oughta go see
Rothstein. He does business
the American way.


EXT. ROTHSTEIN’S TOWNHOUSE. NIGHT

Meyer and Charley stand at the door, looking around in awe.

         MEYER
Not bad, huh? They don’t
call him The Brain for
nothin’.


The door opens. A BUTLER greets them.

         BUTLER
Good evening, gentlemen. Mr.
Rothstein is waiting.

They follow him through a glittering vestibule.

         CHARLEY
How does a little putz like
you get to the great Arnold
Rothstein?

         MEYER
I met him at the Weinberg
Bar Mitzvah. See, we got
a club, too.

         CHARLEY
How do I join?

         MEYER
First, you get a painful
operation.


ROTHSTEIN, in a silk smoking jacket, greets them with a smile.

         ROTHSTEIN
Meyer, Charley, thanks for
coming.

         CHARLEY
It’s an honor, Mr. Rothstein.


Rothstein puts his arms around both boys and walks them into the dining room.

         ROTHSTEIN
Everybody calls me AR…


INT.ROTHSTEIN’S DINING ROOM. NIGHT.

An opulent table under a crystal chandelier. The butler serves and pours. Meyer and Charley, are intimidated by the surroundings, confused by the array of cutlery.

         ROTHSTEIN
A cop is a crook with no
guts. He’ll always be
happy with a small piece
of your action. That’s
your fish knife, Charley.

         CHARLEY
Oh yeah, my fish knife…

ROTHSTEIN
Now the politicians, they’re
just a bunch of hypocrites.
Whorehouse on Saturday,
church on Sunday.

         MEYER
What does that make us AR?

         ROTHSTEIN
Businessmen, backbone of
America. We give people
what they want. How you
makin’ the rent, Charley?

         CHARLEY
I help the boys downtown.
Sell a little hop…

         ROTHSTEIN
Good business to invest in
on the sly. Let somebody
else do the dirty work.
How about you, Meyer?

         MEYER
I like to run a crap games.

         CHARLEY
He’s a whiz with numbers,AR.

         ROTHSTEIN
That’s what I’m lookin’ for.
Ford makes a car, everybody
buys it,. Post makes a cereal
everybody eats it. I have a
product–gambling, which I can
turn into the biggest industry
in America. But I need talented
guys to run it. You boys are
real executive material. We
just have to smooth out some
of the rough edges.


INT.WANAMAKER’S. DAY.

A conservative haberdasher. Meyer is being fitted for a suit under Rothstein’s watchful eye.

         MEYER
I coulda gone to
Hennigsberg’s on Rivington
Street for half price.

         ROTHSTEIN
Forget those greenhorns, you
gotta use an American tailor.
Somebody sees you in a John
Wanamaker suit they know you
got class…

         CHARLEY
steps out of a fitting room,
a man transformed in a pin
striped suit.

         CHARLEY
What do you think?

         ROTHSTEIN
You look like the Chairman
of the Board.

         MEYER
Ironing board maybe.


Charley admires himself in the mirror.

         CHARLEY
Clothes make the man they
say.
(pokes Meyer)
From now on, call me Chairman
of the Board.
</>

END ACT THREE

Next: Part 7/Act Four: Billions & Booze (Wednesday, 11/09/11)

In a new department the Daily Event will reoffer some of these scripts. Read them and decide: would you like to have seen this movie?

Our first script is EMPIRES OF CRIME. Seven years in development it is a six part mini-series commissioned by a broadcast network and later reacquired by a cable station.

The story is about the founders of Organized Crime, Meyer Lansky, and “Lucky” Luciano, their fifty year partnership and the empire they created. Their friendships and families, lives and loves. It is also about their implacable enemy Thomas Dewey, a young Republican attorney who built a political career prosecuting the Mob that propelled him to the NY Governor’s Mansion and almost to the White House.

*For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13.  Use Contact Us, above, for submissions.

 

MOVIES YOU WILL NEVER SEE/Empires of Crime/Part 5

*For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13.  Use Contact Us, above, for submissions.

Heywood Gould is the author of 9 screenplays including “Rolling Thunder,” Fort Apache, The Bronx,” Boys From Brazil,” and “Cocktail.”

EMPIRES OF CRIME/Part 5

By

Heywood Gould

ACT TWO

EXT. BOWERY. NIGHT.

A few weeks later. The Bowery is the Broadway of downtown New York, featuring VAUDEVILLE THEATERS, SALOONS, crowds of ROWDIES out for a night on the town. Maier and Benny stand outside a saloon gaping at the painted WHORES and their flashy PIMPS. Maier has a cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth. Benny ogles the women.

         BENNY
Salvatore gettin’ us
broads?

         MAIER
Nah. Business before
pleasure.

They peek into saloon thick with smoke and honky tonk music

SALVATORE

is talking to a FIDGETY MAN at the bar. A YOUNG WHORE pushes through the swinging doors, dragging a giggly, staggering DRUNK.

         YOUNG WHORE
C’mon honey, let’s get some
air.

TWO YOUNG MEN jump out and drag the drunk into an alley. They blackjack him to the ground, then “roll” him, taking his pocket watch and billfold. IN THE BAR a buxom singer is drawing cheers with her song.

         BUXOM SINGER
The wealthy Four Hundred in
mansions reside/ With fronts
of brown stone and stoops high
and wide/While the poor working
people in poverty deep/ In
cellars and shanties are huddled
like sheep

INT. OSWOSSO LUTHERAN. NIGHT

A church social. YOUNG TOM DEWEY is singing as MARY SIMMONS, a young girl accompanies him on the piano. COUPLES take their last dance and wander out hand in hand as the song ends.

         YOUNG TOM
Good night Irene, Irene/
Good night Irene/ Good
night Irene, Good night
Irene/ I’ll see you in
my dreams.

EXT.SALOON. NIGHT.

Salvatore returns with a bottle of gin and a small package.

         SALVATORE
Keep chickie for the cops…


He draws a VIAL OF COLORLESS LIQUID out of his pocket. Reaches into his pants pocket for several small GLASS JARS.

         SALVATORE
Used to buy opium in a drug
store like cough syrup. Then
the law said it wasn’t legal
no more. But people still
want it so I give it to ‘em.

         MAIER
How you make money?


Salvatore pours a small amount of opium into the jars, then fills them up with gin.

         SALVATORE
I buy the dope off that
junkie in the saloon. Five
bucks a bottle. Cut it with
gin and sell it for three
bucks a jar to the girls on
Essex Street.

         MAIER
You could get guys on the
street to sell it for you
so you don’t gotta worry
about cops.

         BENNY
The broads like this stuff?

         SALVATORE
They love it. You should
see ‘em jump when I come
around.

INT. ROSIE SOLOMON’S. DAY

A brothel in the back room of a saloon. Through a beaded curtain, we can see MEN drinking and hear a PIANO playing. Under red lights, YOUNG GIRLS in camisoles, giggle and gossip with CLIENTS, WORKING MEN of all ages. Salvatore, Maier and Benny enter and are immediately surrounded by GIRLS flirting, entreating “Sal, you bring me a present?”..”Got any of that nose candy, Sal..?” Salvatore brushes them off with a laugh “I don’t see you givin’ nothin’ away.” MOTCHIE, the pimp steps out with a desperate grin. He is young and full of bluster, but wary of Salvatore.

         MOTCHIE
I supply the girls around
here.

         SALVATORE
They like my product better.
(menacing)
That okay with you, Motchie?

Motchie is about to defy him, but Benny moves in with a crazy look and he backs off with an ingratiating smile.

         MOTCHIE
Sure as long as they’re
happy.

         SALVATORE
These are my friends, Benny
and Maier. Take good care of
‘em.

Benny goes for a CURVY BRUNETTE.

         BENNY
I’ll take that zaftig one…

He thrusts a few crumpled bills at Motchie, but Salvatore slaps his hand away.

         SALVATORE
Put your money away. Only
crums pay for it, right
Motchie? It’s my friend
Maier’s birthday. Get
somethin’ nice for him.

         MOTCHIE
Sure Sal…Hey Pearl, where
ya hidin’?

PEARL

a consumptive redhead in a black shift steps out of a room.

         PEARL
Where ya think?

         SALVATORE
(gives Maier a shove)
What are you waitin’ for?
Go, have a good time…

Maier walks timidly down the hall, turning to protest:

         MAIER
But it ain’t my birthday.

INT. PEARL’S ROOM. DAY.

An old iron bedstead, rumpled sheets. Maier watches shyly as Pearl lights an oil lamp. A reddish glow spreads through the room.

         PEARL
So how old are you?

         MEYER
I told ya. It ain’t my
birthday.

All business, Pearl pulls her shift over her head.

         PEARL
You gotta get a little
closer, or it don’t work
so good…

Meyer sits next to her. She tousles his hair.

         PEARL (CONT’D)
This your first time?

         MEYER
Yeah…

         PEARL
Don’t be scared honey,
it’s easy…
(pushes him down onto the bed)
Mama’ll do all the work…

INT. SALVATORE’S ROOM.NIGHT.

A basement room. A bed and a rickety table. JARS and BOTTLES. Salvatore and the boys enter in the darkness.

         SALVATORE
This here’s my office.

         BENNY
You live here too?

         SALVATORE
(lights a candle)
Yeah. My old man threw me
out. I slip money to my
brother to give to my mother…

         BENNY
I had to leave Brooklyn.
Toomany guys lookin’ for
me. But I’ll go back there
one dayflippin’ gold pieces,
broads hangin’ offa me…

         SALVATORE
You still livin’ at home,
Maier?

         MAIER
Yeah.

         SALVATORE
Your mother know what
you’re doin’?

         MAIER
She gets mad. But I’m
goin’ to school for
mechanic work.

         BENNY
You ain’t gonna get a
job are you?

         MAIER
Why not? A lotta guys do
it.

         SALVATORE
That’s ‘cause they can’t
scheme like you. You think
those crums would work for
a dollar a day if they could
make thirty bucks hustlin’
crap games?

         BENNY
Everybody wants to be like
us…

         MAIER
Like us, huh. Freezin’ in
a basement with rats runnin’
around…

         SALVATORE
At least we’re on our own
and no crum is makin’ money
off our backs…My old man’s
gonna die poor.

         MAIER
Mine, too.

         SALVATORE
See what I mean? At least
we got a chance to get rich.

EXT. COUNTRY ROAD. NIGHT.

A peaceful world. Quiet, starry, leaves rustling, crickets chirping. Tom and Mary walk up to a farmhouse..

         YOUNG TOM
I’m goin’ out for football.
(makes a muscle)
That farm work’s makin’ me
real strong for the tryout

         MARY
(feels his bicep)
You’ll make the team for
sure.

         YOUNG TOM
I’m joinin’ Debating Club.
I’m gonna need public speaking
when I go into politics…

         MARY
You gonna make those long
boring speeches at the
July Fourth picnic?

         YOUNG TOM
Maybe I’ll just sing a
song…

         MARY
(laughs)
Tom Dewey, the singing
Senator.

         YOUNG TOM
(a mock song)
And if elected I will
uphold our cherished
Republican values.

         MARY
You’re a sketch, Tom. I
almost think you could
do it.
(offers her hand )
Well, thanks for walkin’
me home.

Tom moves in and “steals” a kiss. Mary laughs and pushes him away.

         MARY
Why Tom Dewey. I thought
you were such a good boy…

         YOUNG TOM
(puts his arms around her)
Only when I have to be.

This time the kiss is mutual

EXT. LOWER EAST SIDE STREET. NIGHT.

Only a year has passed. The boys are seventeen, but look older, more sure of themselves. Salvatore and Benny and are keeping“lookout” as Meyer jumps in the front seat of a Model T.

         SALVATORE
How you gonna start it, you
don’t got the key?

         MAIER
(fiddling with the wires)
Just watch the guy don’t
come out.

Sparks fly under the wheel as he makes a connection. He jumps out and turns the crank. The Model T sputters into action.

         BENNY
How’d you do that?

         MAIER
Get in.

But as they move away, the OWNER runs out, followed by THREE MEN. “Hey, where ya goin’” Maier tries to speed away, but the car bucks and stalls. Benny jumps out wielding a wrench and rushes them, swinging wildly knocking three men down. Salvatore pulls a knife and holds the other man at bay. Maier runs around and cranks the car until it starts again. Salvatore jumps in.

        MAIER
Benny!

Benny runs back and jumps into the car and it clatters away, leaving the three men lying in the street.

EXT. LIVERY STABLE. DAY’

Early morning. The place is half stable, half garage, horses on one side, MODEL T’s and STUTZ BEARCATS on the other. Benny, clothing torn, nose bloody, watches as Maier and Salvatore negotiate with a BURLY BLACKSMITH.

        BLACKSMITH
Where’d you get the car?

        MAIER
My father gave it to me
for my Bar Mitzvah, what
do you care? Fifty bucks
is a fair price.

        BLACKSMITH
I’ll give you twenty.

        SALVATORE
C’mon you’ll get two
hundred…

        BLACKSMITH
You stole this heap. I
could call a cop friend
and get it for nothin’.

Benny looks around with a casual smile; he has developed a new technique for intimidating people.

        BENNY
Better call a fireman friend,
too.

        BLACKSMITH
What for?

        BENNY
To put out the fire when
I burn this joint down
with you in it.

The Blacksmith is about to answer. Benny just shrugs.

        BENNY
Nice place you got here.

        BLACKSMITH
Okay. Fifty bucks.

        MAIER
(smells his fear)
Make it a hundred for
hollerin’ copper.

Salvatore laughs and puts his arm around the Blacksmith’s shoulders.

        SALVATORE
Make it a hundred fifty
and throw in your horse…
Partner.

EAST SIDE 1917

EXT. RAPPAPORT’S RESTAURANT.DAY
A few years later. Meyer and Benny have grown up and found their personal styles. Meyer is understated in a gray topcoat, hat pulled low. Benny is brash in a cashmere coat with a fur collar. He stops to tilt it at a rakish angle.

        MEYER
C’mon, I’m hungry…

INT. DAIRY RESTAURANT. DAY.

Noisy, crowded with ORTHODOX JEWS,GARMENT WORKERS,etc. MOTCHIE the pimp is at a table with his GIRLS. The girls wave and call “Hiya Benny…” At a round table in the back, gorging themselves on bagels and lox, are LEPKE BUCHALTER, squat and fierce and his partner GURRAH SHAPIRO, gross, thick lipped, with an uncaring stare.

        SHAPIRO
The toughest boys on the
East Side.

        BENNY
Toughest boys in the world.

        LEPKE
Wanna make some easy
money?

        MEYER
Nah, I wanna sew buttons
twelve hours a day.

        LEPKE
There’s a strike at the
Weinberg Bakery. Mr.
Weinberg is a good friend…

        MEYER
Yeah and you’re a silent
partner.

        SHAPIRO
We want you to break up
the strike, send the boys
back to work…Fifty bucks.

        MEYER
Hundred’s the goin’ rate,
Lepke.

        LEPKE
A hundred? It’s ten minutes
work.

Benny takes a bite out of Lepke’s bagel.

        MEYER
For us. Anybody else you’ll
need a mob and it’ll cost a
G note.

        BENNY
We’re savin’ you money,
Lepke.

A blustery winter day. STRIKERS shiver on a picket line, Exhorting PASSERSBY to “Pass’em by…”

A TAXI

pulls up. Meyer and Benny get out..

        BENNY
Keep the meter runnin’, we’ll
be back…

        RABINOWITZ
Meyer’s childhood friend, is
shouting instructions.

        MEYER
Rabinowitz. You the boss
here?

        RABINOWITZ
You one of Lepke’s shlammers,
Maier?

        MEYER
If I have to be. You gotta
go back to work, kid.

        RABINOWITZ
Weinberg’s profit has doubled,
but he won’t pay us a living
wage, Maier. Whaddya think of
that?

        LANSKY
I think it’s smart business
if he can get away with it
and we’re here to see that
he does…

        BENNY
Back to work baker, your
bagels are gettin’ cold…

        RABINOWITZ
You guys don’t scare me…

Benny punches the Rabinowitz flush in the face. Grabs him as he falls forward and gut punches him. The other STRIKERS run to their leader’s defense. A TOUGH STRIKER advances on Maier.

        TOUGH STRIKER
Think you can fight
thirty-five guys?

Benny leaps at the Tough Striker, knocking him to the ground, beating him with the wooden handle of his placard.

        BENNY
Now it’s thirty-four…
Who wants to try for
thirty-three?

        MEYER
Hold it Benny…
(and faces the Strikers)
You know the Golden Rule?
The guy with the gold rules.
Weinberg’s gonna win in the
end so go back to work, you
got mouths to feed.

BENNY

leans over the bleeding semi-conscious Rabinowitz and shoves a few bills in his pocket.

        BENNY
Here, take your girlfriend
out dancin’ on Ben Siegel…

INT. HAT STORE. DAY

Salvatore is loading JARS OF MORPHINE and “raviolis” of COCAINE in a hat box, then concealing them under DERBY HATS.

        OWNER
(o.s.)
Ready for the deliveries,
Salvatore?

        SALVATORE
Ready, Mr. Gordon.


EXT. ESSEX STREET. DAY


Salvatore struts happily, three hatboxes in each hand.

MOTCHIE

is standing on the corner with two cops. He steps into the shadows as the cops block Charley’s way.

        RED FACED COP
What’s in the boxes,
Tony?

        SALVATORE
Hats from the Gordon Hat
Company.

The red faced cop opens a box and comes up with a “ravioli.”

RED FACED COP
Hats, huh?

Salvatore tries to run, but the red faced cop flicks his nightstick between his feet and he goes down. The fat cop kneels on his back, pushing his face into the ground.

        FAT COP
Who told you could sell hop
around here?

        SALVATORE
Who I gotta ask?

        FAT COP
Who you think, you dumb
wop?

        SALVATORE
That pimp Motchie’s sellin’
it,too.

        RED FACED COP
(snapping on the cuffs)
Motchie’s with us. You’re
not.

        SALVATORE
Take my load. I got eight
bucks in my sock. Take it
for lettin’ me go.

        FAT COP
We’ll takin’ it for not
bustin’ your head. You’re
gonna go cool off up the
river. When you come back
maybe you’ll know how
things work.

They jerk Salvatore to his feet and start to march him away. He turns with a cold, vengeful look toward Motchie.

        SALVATORE
Yeah. I’ll know how things
work.


END ACT TWO

Next: Part 6/Act Three: Getting Some Class (Monday, 11/07/11)

In a new department the Daily Event will reoffer some of these scripts. Read them and decide: would you like to have seen this movie?

Our first script is EMPIRES OF CRIME. Seven years in development it is a six part mini-series commissioned by a broadcast network and later reacquired by a cable station.

The story is about the founders of Organized Crime, Meyer Lansky, and “Lucky” Luciano, their fifty year partnership and the empire they created. Their friendships and families, lives and loves. It is also about their implacable enemy Thomas Dewey, a young Republican attorney who built a political career prosecuting the Mob that propelled him to the NY Governor’s Mansion and almost to the White House.

*For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13.  Use Contact Us, above, for submissions.


 

 

MOVIES YOU WILL NEVER SEE/Empires of Crime/Part 4

*For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13. Use Contact Us, above, for submissions.

*Heywood Gould is the author of 9 screenplays including “Rolling Thunder,” Fort Apache, The Bronx,” Boys From Brazil,” and “Cocktail.”

EMPIRES OF CRIME/Part 4

By

Heywood Gould

Act 1 (cont)


INT. MAIER’S KITCHEN. DAY

YETTA, Maier’s mother, pinched and bitter, is looking anxiously out of the window. His father MAX, sallow and bent with a tubercular cough is poring over the Yiddish newspaper, while his younger brother JAKE struggles with his homework.

         YETTA
He’s comin’.

         MAX
So’s the messiah…

INT. TENEMENT STAIRWAY. DAY.

Maier opens the door and runs anxiously up the stairs. People pass him on the way down. SHOPGIRLS, RELIGIOUS STUDENTS, WORKING MEN. RABINOWITZ, the young activist, loaded with books, stops him.

         RABINOWITZ
Hey, Meyer, come to the
meeting. We’re gonna get
the union into Weinberg’s
bakery. Get the workers a
fair shake.

         MAIER
Watch out Weinberg don’t
bust your head.

He reaches under the landing to where he has hidden his schoolbooks. Then with a nervous breath he opens the door.

INT. MAIER’S KITCHEN. DAY

Maier enters with his books.

         MAIER
Hey…

         MAX
Hey is for horses. Where
were you all night?

         MAIER
I was studyin’ with Cousin
Asher. We fell asleep in the
kitchen…

Yetta leaps at him. Pinches his cheek..

         YETTA
Liar! I went over there.
They hadn’t seen you…

         MAIER
Ow ow! Okay…I was at
the fruit market. A man
needed help unloading.
He gave me two bucks.

Yetta twists his ear, forcing him to his knees.

         YETTA
Look at me. A good boy
with an honest job can
look his mama in the
eye…

         MAIER
Okay, okay. I was in
a crap game.

         YETTA
(scandalized)
Oy, Max what are we
gonna do with him?

         MAX
The dice are crooked.
You think the gangsters
play so you can win?

         MAIER
I know, Pop, but I
beat them at their
own game. Here…

He takes a handful of bills out of his pocket and offers them to his mother. She gapes at the money in amazement.

         MAIER
Here Ma, buy yourself
winter coat.

         YETTA
It’s schmutzikeh gelt,
dirty money.

         MAIER
It’s the same money your
boss don’t give you, Mama.
Now you don’t gotta sew
buttons twelve hours a
day, You can stay home
and rest, Papa. Take care
of your cough.
(pushes the money on his father)
Don’t worry Papa, this
is America. The Cossacks
ain’t gonna bust down the
door…

EXT. HUDSON RIVER. NIGHT

On a crumbling pier. A crap game in the eerie glow of FIREPOTS. Maier hangs back and watches as The Young Gambler repeats the same ritual. The flirty girl blows on the dice to the ribald cheers of the other players. Then, he rolls:

         YOUNG GAMBLER
Seven! Who says those dice
are cold?

         MAIER
Hey, I’m down, too. Pay
off.


A handful of crumpled bills is thrown Maier’s way. He tries to slip unnoticed through the crowd. But is suddenly knocked to the ground. Stunned, he sees:

THE YOUNG GAMBLER

standing over him with a pair of BRASS KNUCKLES. TWO BRUISERS move in behind him.

         YOUNG GAMBLER
I’ll teach ya to run a
racket on me, punk.

Maier ducks, spins and takes off. The Young Gambler and his two henchmen give chase.

EXT. CHRISTOPHER STREET. NIGHT.

Maier runs down the narrow street and into an alley. Runs into a stone wall…A dead end… Turns to see the Young Gambler, breathing fiercely.

         YOUNG GAMBLER
Gotcha now, you little…..

Something FLASHES in the darkness. Benny steps into the light, wielding a lead pipe. There is a THUD and the Young Gambler drops to his knees.

SALVATORE

comes out of the shadows, a KNIFE GLITTERING. One henchman screams, holding a bloody gash in his face. The other tries to flee, but Salvatore runs him down and sticks him in the ribs.

MAIER

grabs a garbage can lid sand whacks the Young Gambler in the head. The Young Gambler stumbles. Benny blocks his path. Raising the pipe high,he smashes the Young Gambler, driving him down, flat on his face.

         SALVATORE
Is he dead?

         BENNY
How should I know? I ain’t
a doctor…

Maier tears a GOLD WATCH and CHAIN off the Young Man’s belt. Goes through his pockets and finds a GOLD MONEY CLIP bulging with bills. Salvatore goes for the money, but Meyer holds on.

         SALVATORE
Give it here.

         MAIER
This is my proposition…

          SALVATORE
Okay, but it’s fifty fifty.
You take care of Benny outta
your end.

As they walk away, Maier is counting the money.

         MAIER
Thirty eight bucks…

         SALVATORE
Let’s go eat…

         BENNY
Let’s get a broad.

Behind them one of the henchmen staggers out of the alley, moaning and collapses in the street.

         MAIER
Let’s go someplace and
divvy it up…

EXT. TENEMENT.DAY

Salvatore walks jauntily down the street carrying a large loaf of bread and a bag of groceries. He ducks quickly into a storefront when he sees his father, FRANCESCO LUCANIA, a short wiry working man, come out of the building. PEOPLE greet him: “Buon giorno Signor Lucania…” He tips his cap and walks on. Salvatore jumps out and enters the building.

INT. TENEMENT STAIRWAY. DAY.
Salvatore bounds up the stairs and knocks softly. His mother ROSALIA, pale and careworn opens the door. She lights up at the sight of him.

         ROSALIA
Salvatore…

         SALVATORE
(with a big hug )
Mama…Don’t worry, Papa
didn’t see me.

He steps into a KITCHEN of desperate poverty. A rickety table, a coal stove, an ice box, scraps of food. His little brother BARTOLOMEO jumps up in glee.

         BARTOLOMEO
Salvatore!

His sister GINA runs out:

         GINA
Salvatore!

         ROSALIA
You look so thin, Salvatore…

         SALVATORE
I’m doin’ great, Ma. Got a job
deliverin’ hats on Twenty third.

         ROSALIA
Every night I pray your father
will let you come back…

         SALVATORE
Forget it. Not even God could
get that hard headed Sicilian
to change his mind. Look at this
beautiful prosciutto.

He takes a large BAKED HAM out of the bag. Melon, tomatoes.

         ROSALIA
My God, what am I gonna tell
your father?

         SALVATORE
Tell him the Tammany boys gave
it to you for votin’…

         BARTOLOMEO
Hey Sal, I’m gonna come live
with you…

         SALVATORE
(takes a swipe at him)
You stay in school, stupid.
You wanna be a bum like me?

The door flies open. Francesco enters, clenched, furious.

         ROSALIA
(appeasing)
Francesco, he just came for
a visit. Look what be brought.

         FRANCESCO
Tony, the peddler says you
stuck him up.

         SALVATORE
Why do I wanna take pennies
off that crum? He’s a liar…

         FRANCESCO
You are the liar. You dishonor
this family…

Francesco raises his hand, but Salvatore grabs his wrist.

         ROSALIA
Salvatore!

Salvatore lets go and steps away.

         SALVATORE
This ain’t the old country,
Papa. I don’t have to stand
here and take a beatin’ from
you.
(tries to make up)
C’mon, I know how much you love
a nice prosciutto ham…

         FRANCESCO
I won’t take charity from a
thief.

Francesco grabs the ham and the bread and throws them out of the window. The whole family sags with disappointment.

         SALVATORE
The rats are gonna eat good
tonight, but your kids’ll go
hungry. That what you want?

         FRANCESCO
Get out! You’re not my son no more.
Get outta my house.


Salvatore hugs his mother and Gina.

         SALVATORE
(tousles Bartolomeo’s hair)
Stay in school…


EXT. TENEMENT. DAY
A cold wind is blowing as Salvatore comes out of the house. He shivers and turns for one last look.. Then walks away, pulling up the collar of his skimpy jacket.

END ACT ONE


Next: Act Two/Partners (Wednesday, 11/2/11)

In a new department the Daily Event will reoffer some of these scripts. Read them and decide: would you like to have seen this movie?

Our first script is EMPIRES OF CRIME. Seven years in development it is a six part mini-series commissioned by a broadcast network and later reacquired by a cable station.
The story is about the founders of Organized Crime, Meyer Lansky, and “Lucky” Luciano, their fifty year partnership and the empire they created. Their friendships and families, lives and loves. It is also about their implacable enemy Thomas Dewey, a young Republican attorney who built a political career prosecuting the Mob that propelled him to the NY Governor’s Mansion and almost to the White House.

*For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13. Use Contact Us, above, for submissions.

 

MOVIES YOU WILL NEVER SEE/Empires of Crime/Part 3

*For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13. Use Contact Us, above, for submissions.

*Heywood Gould is the author of 9 screenplays including “Rolling Thunder,” Fort Apache, The Bronx,” Boys From Brazil,” and “Cocktail.”

EMPIRES OF CRIME/Part 3

By

Heywood Gould

Act 1 (cont)


EXT. DELANCEY STREET. DAY.

ELECTION DAY. A gray drizzle cannot dampen the festivities. BANNERS reading MURPHY FOR ASSEMBLY flutter from lampposts. A BAND PLAYS. CHESTNUT VENDORS hawk their wares. POLITICOS in DERBIES with GOLD WATCH CHAINS slap backs and kiss babies.

INT. LANDING. DAY

Two men climb the stairs, chatting amiably. One is TIM SULLIVAN, the Tammany Man, the other FIORELLO LA GUARDIA, short,round, bursting with energy. La Guardia carries a bouquet, Sullivan a fresh killed turkey. They knock at a door.

         LA GUARDIA
The Republicans are gonna
catch up on you guys today.
Only underdogs vote in the
rain.

         SULLIVAN
Ah now, we’ll get the vote out.


An ITALIAN LADY opens the door. La Guardia bows.

         LA GUARDIA
Fiorello La Guardia, Signora,
from the Republican Party,
the party of Lincoln, Teddy
Roosevelt, the party of the
poor…


Sullivan laughs and interjects.

         SULLIVAN
Don’t believe him, mama. The
Republicans are rich. Rockefeller,
J.P. Morgan…
(thrusting the turkey at her)
Take this beautiful bird as a
gift from Big Tim Sullivan.

         LA GUARDIA
That turkey won’t get you a
fair wage…

         SULLIVAN
But it’ll feed your kids.
(referring to a list)
I see you’ve got your husband
Vittorio and three boys here.
That’s five votes.

         ITALIAN LADY
My boys is too young to vote.

         SULLIVAN
Everybody votes in my ward,
mama, we don’t discriminate.
(with a scornful look at La Guardia)
We ain’t sellin’ fancy ideas.
We’re in business to help
good Democrats.


EXT. BOWERY. DAY.

A cold rain falls over the district where the streetwalkers prowl. Salvatore stands in a doorway pouring liquid opium into small jars, while little Davey keeps watch. A YOUNG PROSTITUTE, wet and shivering, stumbles in.

         PROSTITUTE
Hey Salvatore, I was lookin’
for you on Pell Street.

         SALVATORE
Can’t help ya now, toots,
I got work to do.


Maier jumps, shivering into the storefront followed by BENNY SIEGEL, a scrawny kid with a crazy look in his eye, who looks avidly at the Prostitute.

         MAIER
Okay we’re here.

         SALVATORE
I told ya to bring some
tough guys, not this
skinny marink…

         BENNY
(squares off)
I can take care of myself.
Wanna see?


A WAGON rolls up and Hines shouts:

         HINES
Hey you guys, no brawlin’ on
Election Day. Who can read
here?

         MAIER
Whaddya think we’re stupid?

         HINES
See this list? These people
are all dead, but they like
Charley Murphy so much we’re
gonna bring ‘em back to life
to vote for him.


MONTAGE…The BOYS get out the vote.

A BOWERY GIN MILL…DRUNKS mumble in their beers. Salvatore and his boys burst through the swinging doors, shouting:

         SALVATORE
Election day…Everybody
votes.

And drag the drunks off their stools, promising:

         SALVATORE
After you vote all the
drinks are on Mr. Charley
Murphy…

OUTSIDE A KOSHER RESTAURANT…Maier and Benny recruit voters in a crowd of ORTHODOX JEWS.

         MAIER
Two bits every time you
vote.

         OLD MAN
Two bits. Vus es two bits?

         MAIER
A quarter.

The crowd is impressed. “A quarter…”

A BROTHEL…Maier and Benny hang back shyly as Salvatore emerges with a PROSTITUTE, pale and depleted from drugs.

         PROSTITUTE
I’m sick Salvatore.

         SALVATORE
Vote for Charley Murphy,
I’ll give you the cure…

Suddenly, several gaudily dressed PIMPS burst out. “Where ya think you’re goin’?”

         SALVATORE (cont’d)
Ah, we’ll bring ‘em right
back.

         PIMP
(shoves Salvatore)
Take a walk.

Benny jumps in and kicks him in the groin. The other pimps jump him, but Benny fights them off furiously.

         MAIER
Okay, Benny they had
enough.

         BENNY
Not ’til I say so.


Benny knocks a pimp to his knees and kicks him in the face Pulls another pimp down by his hair and slams his head into the ground. Salvatore steps back and watches in amazement.

         SALVATORE
(to Meyer)
This kid’s nuts…

         MAIER
They call him Bugsy on the
block. Everybody’s scared
of him.

         SALVATORE
But not you?

         MAIER
Benny’s my best friend. He
wouldn’t hurt me.


EXT. POLLING PLACE. DAY.

A long line of VOTERS, some illiterate, some underage, herded together by Salvatore and his boys. PRECINCT CAPTAINS with DERBIES and GOLD WATCH CHAINS, speaking Yiddish, English and Italian with thick New York accents, escort VOTERS into the booths and mark their ballots for them. “ Charley Murphy’s the people’s choice..”

MAIER

escorts an old Jewish man up to a corrupt ELECTION OFFICIAL.

         ELECTION OFFICIAL
What’s his name?

         MAIER
Vus es die nommen?

         OLD MAN
(reads haltingly from a slip)
Liam O’Kelly..?

         ELECTION OFFICIAL
(checks off the name)
A fine Irish name.


Salvatore brings up a PROSTITUTE.

         ELECTION OFFICIAL
Name…

         PROSTITUTE
Rabbi Nathan Goldberg.

         ELECTION OFFICIAL
Right this way, Your Holiness…


EXT. POLLING PLACE. DAY.

As the voters emerge, Salvatore and his boys march them to the back of the line. Salvatore grabs a BOWERY LUSH.

         SALVATORE
Where ya goin, pal, you’re
votin’ again. Everybody’s
votin’ today..


EXT. ELIZABETH STREET. NIGHT.

The boy gather eagerly around Salvatore as he counts off the money from a big roll.

         SALVATORE
Twelve bucks for Benny.
Twelve for Maier. Twenty
four for me. I get
double ‘cause it’s my
proposition.

         MAIER
Okay. I got a proposition
for you.


ESSEX STREET. NIGHT.

Maier, Salvatore and Benny stand in the shadows watching a CRAP GAME. A YOUNG GAMBLER with a FLASHY YOUNG LADY in a low cut dress, is rolling the dice.

         MAIER
Gimme eight dollars I’ll
give you sixteen back.

         SALVATORE
(hands him the money)
You better…

THE YOUNG GAMBLER turns to his lady friend.

         YOUNG GAMBLER
Here doll, blow on these
for luck.

The Young Lady bends, giving the players a good look and blows flirtatiously on the dice.

MAIER.

darts into the crowd, throwing the money down. The Young Gambler rolls a SEVEN.

         STICK MAN
Lucky seven…

He throws some bills back at the Young Man. Maier jumps in.

         MAIER (CONT’D)
Hey Mister, what about me?


The Stick man looks up at the BANKER, another Italian.

         BANKER
Kid got lucky. Pay him off.

         MAIER
It’s s’posed to be three
to two.

         BANKER
Kid’s a bookkeeper.

SALVATORE AND BENNY

are waiting in the shadows.

         SALVATORE
How did you know this guy was
gonna roll a natural?

         MAIER
(demonstrates)
It’s a trick. He palms the
loaded dice. While everybody’s
watchin’ the pretty girl he
switches ‘em.


Salvatore gives him an affectionate smack.

         SALVATORE
You got some eyes on you
to spot this racket. We’re
gonna make big money, me
and you.

Next: Part 4/Dirty Money (Monday, 10/31/11)

In a new department the Daily Event will reoffer some of these scripts. Read them and decide: would you like to have seen this movie?

Our first script is EMPIRES OF CRIME. Seven years in development it is a six part mini-series commissioned by a broadcast network and later reacquired by a cable station.

The story is about the founders of Organized Crime, Meyer Lansky, and “Lucky” Luciano, their fifty year partnership and the empire they created. Their friendships and families, lives and loves. It is also about their implacable enemy Thomas Dewey, a young Republican attorney who built a political career prosecuting the Mob that propelled him to the NY Governor’s Mansion and almost to the White House.

*For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13 (Calendar at right.) Use Contact Us, above, for submissions.

 

 

 

MOVIES YOU WILL NEVER SEE/Empires of Crime/Part 2

*For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13 (Calendar at right.) Use Contact Us, above, for submissions.

*Heywood Gould is the author of 9 screenplays including “Rolling Thunder,” Fort Apache, The Bronx,” Boys From Brazil,” and “Cocktail.”

EMPIRES OF CRIME/Part 2

By

Heywood Gould

Act 1


DISSOLVE TO

LITTLE ITALY, NY, 1913

EXT. MOTT STREET. (STOCK) DAY

A million immigrants jammed into ten square blocks. Noisy, narrow, teeming with desperate humanity. PUSHCARTS, HORSE DRAWN WAGONS. WORKERS,bent and weary, PEDDLERS screeching their wares. Sharp eyed women haggle in the Sicilian dialect keeping a wary eye on their CHILDREN running underfoot. MUSTACHIOED MEN in black suits swagger arm in arm with their GAUDY WOMEN.

YOUNG CHARLEY LUCIANO

still known by his given name, SALVATORE, sixteen, wiry, ashamed of his shabby clothes, has his nose pressed hungrily against the window of an ITALIAN BAKERY.

THROUGH THE BAKERY WINDOW

he sees JOE MASSERIA, a member of the BLACK HAND gang of extortionists. In his early ‘20’s, but already starting to bulge out of his black suit, Masseria is at a table with his HENCHMEN gorging himself on a huge slab of ITALIAN CHEESECAKE. As Salvatore watches the PROPRIETOR arrives with more pastry. He sets down the tray with a desperately ingratiating smile and slips Masseria a wad of BILLS

SALVATORE

licks his lips. He’s hungry, he’s always hungry. As he walks on he is followed by a three RAGTAG BOYS, led by DAVY BETTILO, a runty kid, mad at the world.

         BETTILO
Salvatore, wait up…

         SALVATORE
(pushes him away)
Stupido, don’t follow me.
Go cross the street and
come when I tellya.

Bettilo retreats, shamefaced. And Salvatore passes:

BIG TIM SULLIVAN

stocky, florid in a bowler hat, smiling broadly under a sign reading, FREE SHOES FROM BIG TIM SULLIVAN, TAMMANY HALL. PEOPLE fight and jostle as a young block captain, JIMMY HINES passes out shoes from enormous boxes.

         SULLIVAN
We’re goin’ to give out
seven thousand pairs of
shoes and socks today to
our loyal voters…


RABINOWITZ, a young idealist, jumps out and harangues the crowd.

         RABINOWITZ
Don’t sell your souls to
these Tammany crooks! Vote
for justice.

         JIMMY HINES
Justice won’t keep your
feet warm in the winter.
Who gives you what you need?


The CROWD responds in gleeful unison:

         CROWD
Big Tim Sullivan. He’s a
damned fine Irishman. Vote
for Sullivan.


Salvatore laughs and walks on. Lighting a cigarette he passes:

A PEDDLER

hawking fruit from a pushcart with the cry:

         PEDDLER
Applapear…Applapear…
Get ‘em over here. Two
cents a piece…Applapear…


Salvatore checks the street for COPS, then approaches, cigarette dangling out of his mouth.

         SALVATORE
The t’ieves is thick as flies
around here, huh Tony. Gimme
a quarter a day, I’ll keep’em
away.

         PEDDLER
(swipes at him)
Get outta here, I call a cop…

         SALVATORE
Cops don’t care about
greaseballs like you…


He gives a signal. Davy Bettilo leads the three boys across the street. They swipe handfuls of apples. Shouting, the Peddler gives chase. They dodge him laughing. Little Davey doubles back and pushes over his cart. Apples and pears roll off onto the street, setting off a stampede as PASSERSBY run to pick them up. The Peddler gets the message.

         PEDDLER
Okay a quarter…

SALVATORE

He runs out and rounds up the boys. Smacks them, grabs them by the ears…Chases them.

         SALVATORE
Hey you bums, put them
apples back, every single
one of ‘em. This man’s a
friend of mine. Don’t ever
bother him again, you
understand?


The Peddler looks at Salvatore with new found respect. He digs into his pocket for a few coins. Salvatore flips a coin back at him.

         SALVATORE
Pick me a few nice apples
for my mother,Tony…


JIMMY HINES

has been watching in amusement. He grabs Salvatore.

         JIMMY HINES
Hey kid, you the boss of
the block?

         SALVATORE
Just lookin’ out for my
friends.

         JIMMY HINES
I could use you and your
boys next week to get out
the vote. Give you
fifty cents a head.

         SALVATORE
A buck for every vote we
bring in…

         JIMMY HINES
Okay…But get me some tough
Yiddish kids to speak the
lingo to the greenhorns…

         SALVATORE
(walking on)
There ain’t no tough Yiddish
kids…


EXT. DELANCEY STREET. DAY.

The Jewish quarter. Shop signs in Yiddish. PEDDLERS hawking their wares in Yiddish. ORTHODOX JEWS in long coats and beards.. FLASHY PIMPS jostle wild eyed RADICALS.

SALVATORE

swaggers fearlessly into this alien territory. He stops to buy a pickle from a peddler.

INT. HEBREW SCHOOL. DAY

STUDENTS with YARMULKES muttering over their books, while the TEACHER, a spiteful, humpbacked old man, smacks the inattentive on the backs of their heads. He stops at little MAIER SUCHOJWOLANSKA, who is staring out of the window. Prods him hard with the pointer.

         TEACHER
So, Maier, This is where
the portion is? In the
street?

         MAIER
(defiant)
I know the lesson.

         TEACHER
So, how much gold did the
Israelites pledge for the
Tabernacle?

         MAIER
Twenty-nine talents and
730 shekels.

         TEACHER
How much silver?

         MAIER
One hundred talents and
seventeen hundred and
seventy five shekels.

         TEACHER
How many wandered in the
desert?

         MAIER
Six hundred and three thousand,
five hundred and fifty.

         TEACHER
So. And why do we study it?

         MAIER
God’s secret is in these
numbers. When every man
knows every number in the
Bible, the Messiah will
come and our enemies will
be defeated.

EXT. HEBREW SCHOOL. DAY.

A crumbling white stoned SYNAGOGUE. As Maier and the boys come out, one of them points across the street at

SALVATORE

who is watching from a doorway.

         FRIGHTENED BOY
That’s the kid, Maier. His gang
robbed us on Delancey yesterday.
Oy, look they’re comin’.

The boys turn to flee, but Maier grabs two of them.

         MAIER
Don’t run, stick together.

The others try to escape, but Salvatore’s boys sweep down on them from across the street and shove them into a storefront, slapping them, smacking their heads against the shop window…“Hey kid, a nickel to walk on Delancey Street…” One boy tries to run. “Hey, where you goin’, Ikie?” He is grabbed by the sidelocks and thrown to the ground.

MAIER

tightens his grip on his two friends. They walk the other way, but are pursued by Bettilo and two BIG BOYS.

         BETTILO
Hey, you gotta pay a nickel
to walk on the street.

         MAIER
Who says?

         BETTILO
I say.


Bettilo tries to grab Maier by the hair, but Maier sidesteps and pokes him in the eye, then clubs him to the ground. The Big Boys run at them, but Maier kicks one in the groin. Then pulls the other boy’s jacket up over his head and clubs him, bloodying his nose, Bettilo comes at him, swinging blindly. But Salvatore steps in pushing Bettilo away.

         SALVATORE
Give up Davey, don’tcha
know when you’re licked?
(and turns to Maier)
I never seen no Jewish kid
fight like that

         MAIER
(fists clenched)
You wanna see one now?

         SALVATORE
(backs off,laughing)
G’wan get outta here, tough
guy, you win.


Maier runs after his friends and grabs them by the necks.

         MAIER
Where you guys goin’? Gimme
two cents for savin’ the both
of yiz.

         FRIGHTENED BOY
But you’re robbin’ us, too.

         MAIER
Hey, it’s a good deal. Them
Italianas woulda taken all
your money and givin’ yiz a
beatin’ too.


SALVATORE

watches the boys pay up and calls:

         SALVATORE
Hey kid, c’mere I wanna ask
you somethin’.


Maier approaches warily. Salvatore lunges and pokes Maier in the neck with his lit cigarette. Maier recoils in pain.

         SALVATORE
See, I know more tricks than
you. Ya got friends tough
like you?

         MAIER
(rubbing his neck)
I got friends.

         SALVATORE
Bring ‘em around. We’ll make
some money…

         MAIER
Doin’ what?

         SALVATORE
What I tell ya. I’ll give
you a quarter for every kid
who can handle hisself. Okay?

         MAIER
Fifty cents

         SALVATORE
Yeah, yeah, okay. How much you
get off those little sissies?

         MAIER
Four cents.

         SALVATORE
(holds out his hand)
Gimme two…
(as Maier protests)
Hey, you wouldna made nothin’
if I didn’t stick ‘em up.


Grudgingly, Maier hands the money over. Salvatore offers his hand.

         SALVATORE
Shake,partner.


Maier is uncertain at first, but is taken in by Salvatore’s charm. With a shy smile he shakes his hand.

         MAIER
Okay…Partner.


EXT. DEWEY HOUSE. OSWOSSO MICHIGAN. DAY


A white Victorian house on a tree lined street in a picturesque small town outside of Detroit. From within we hear the pure tones of a young tenor, singing:

         YOUNG TOM
Mine eyes have seen the glory/
Of the coming of the Lord/He
is tramping out the vintage/
Where the grapes of wrath
are stored…


INT. DEWEY PARLOR. DAY

YOUNG TOM DEWEY, thirteen, but still in knickers is belting out the song, while his mother, KATHERINE proudly accompanies him on the spinet.

         YOUNG TOM
He has loosed the fateful
lightning/Of his terrible
swift sword/His truth is
marching on…

The guests listen appreciatively. The men, portly, cigars peeking out of their vests. The women standing, plain, unadorned in long sleeved long skirted dresses. They all join in the final chorus:

         EVERYBODY
Glory, glory Hallelujah/
His truth is marching on…


INT. HALLWAY. DAY

Tom carries a tray of pastries and a big silver coffee pot across the hall and opens the door to THE STUDY, a book lined, smoke filled room where his dad GEORGE and his UNCLE JOHN and several other men are smoking cigars.

         GEORGE
Ah refreshments. Set ‘em
down here son…

         UNCLE JOHN
(an overbearing man)
You can climb outta those
knickers now, nephew, you’re
a big boy now. Your Dad
tells me you’re bent on
studying music.

         TOM
(knows he disapproves)
I’d like to give it a
try,sir.

         UNCLE JOHN
Singin’ is for church socials,
Tom.

         GEORGE
(an old argument)
Let’s not bring this up again,
John…I’ve told Tom he can
do what he wants…

         UNCLE JOHN
You’re too easygoing with the
boy, George.

         GEORGE
Don’t tell me how to raise my
son…

         UNCLE JOHN
I think I have a right to
express my point of view.
Has your father ever told
you what kind of stock you
spring from. Tom?

         YOUNG TOM
Yes sir, of course.

         GEORGE
I don’t burden the boy with
our family history.

         UNCLE JOHN
It’s not a burden, it’s an
honor. The first Dewey was
a Huguenot Protestant escaping
persecution by French papists…
Our cousin Cousin Admiral
George Dewey defeated the
Spanish Navy in 1898. And
Cousin John was a great
teacher, who invented the
Dewey Decimal system. Every
time a boy takes a book out
of a library to improve his
mind he can thank our cousin
John…And your father…

         GEORGE
John. please…

         UNCLE JOHN
If you won’t blow your own
horn I’ll blow it for you.
Your father isn’t just
running a small town newspaper,
Tom. His editorials are read
all over the country. He is
defending Republican ideals
against the corrupt, machine
politicians in the big cities…
You see Tom, America has been
invaded by a horde of ignorant,
retarded criminals.

         GEORGE
They’re immigrants just like
our ancestors…

         UNCLE JOHN
They’re thieves, pimps, deviants.
A tide of filth breaking on the
big cities and threatening to
engulf the true Americans.
People like us aren’t free to
follow our whims, Tom. Every
Dewey has to be on the front
line defending our way of life.

         GEORGE
Don’t lecture the boy, John.
He knows his responsibilities.

         UNCLE JOHN
(with a pointed look)
Do you, Tom?

         YOUNG TOM
(looks him in the eye)
I know what’s expected of me,
sir. And I’ll try to live up
to it.


Next: Part 3/Election Day (Thursday, 10/27/11

In a new department the Daily Event will reoffer some of these scripts. Read them and decide: would you like to have seen this movie?

Our first script is EMPIRES OF CRIME. Seven years in development it is a six part mini-series commissioned by a broadcast network and later reacquired by a cable station.

The story is about the founders of Organized Crime, Meyer Lansky, and “Lucky” Luciano, their fifty year partnership and the empire they created. Their friendships and families, lives and loves. It is also about their implacable enemy Thomas Dewey, a young Republican attorney who built a political career prosecuting the Mob that propelled him to the NY Governor’s Mansion and almost to the White House.

*For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13 Use Contact Us, above, for submissions.

 

           

MOVIES YOU WILL NEVER SEE/Empires of Crime/Part 1

In a new department the Daily Event will reoffer some of these scripts. Read them and decide: would you like to have seen this movie?

Our first script is EMPIRES OF CRIME by Heywood Gould. Seven years in development it is a six part mini-series commissioned by a broadcast network and later reacquired by a cable station.

For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13 on Calendar at right. Use Contact Us, above, for submissions.

*Heywood Gould is the author of 9 screenplays including “Rolling Thunder,” Fort Apache, The Bronx,” Boys From Brazil,” and “Cocktail.”

EMPIRES OF CRIME

 By

Heywood Gould

Act 1

NAPLES 1962


EXT. DA GIACOMINO’S RESTAURANT. DAY


The “classiest joint” in Naples. Vases of fresh flowers, white coated WAITERS, bustling, festive. But today there’s a traffic jam. AMERICAN SAILORS, TOURISTS and REPORTERS clog the aisles leading to a large round table in the back. Who is the focus of all this celebrity attention? It’s mob boss LUCKY LUCIANO,early sixties, elegant, gray at the temples, dressed in his usual impeccable style in a Brooks Brothers gray summer suit, his signature yellow and black handkerchief in the breast pocket. Next to him is a VOLUPTUOUS GIRL. Whispering in his ear is MARTIN GRAYSON, a fawning Hollywood producer. Lucky is plowing through a plate of spaghetti, but stops good-naturedly to sign autographs and answer questions.

         SAILOR
Can you make it out to
Jimmy, Mr. Luciano?

         LUCIANO
Sure kid. Can’t do enough
for our boys in uniform.

         TOURIST
(aiming a camera)
Say cheese Mr. Luciano…

         LUCIANO
Provolone. Hey, don’t point
that thing,it might go off.


Everybody laughs as the FLASH BULB pops.

         REPORTER
Senator Kefauver says that
the Mob is raking in five
billion dollars a year from
illegal gambling and you’re
in for ten per cent…

         LUCIANO
Five billion? Lemme tellya
somethin’: every time a
politician wants to get
elected he says he’s gonna
throw mob boss Lucky Luciano
in jail. I put more crums in
office than the Democratic Party…

         SAILOR
When you gonna come home,
Mr. Luciano?

         LUCIANO
Funny you should ask. My
associate Mr. Grayson here
has a big producer flyin’
in from Hollywood to buy my
life story. Think we can
get five billion, Marty?

         GRAYSON
The sky’s the limit, Lucky.

         REPORTER
Who do you want to play you,
Lucky?

         LUCIANO
I’m thinkin’ of starrin’ in
it myself…

Laughter and agreement from the crowd. “You could do it, Lucky..” “You look great…”

         LUCIANO
But if Cary Grant’s busy maybe
Sinatra. That kid owes me a lot.

A WAITER pushes through the crowd, bearing a huge ITALIAN CHEESECAKE.

         LUCIANO
Hey, look at that. I got two
weaknesses in life, cheesecake
and…Cheesecake…

LUCIANO

He puts his arms around the Voluptuous Girl and everybody laughs. Then looks up at the waiter.

         LUCIANO
You new here?

         WAITER
My first day Signor Lucky.

LUCIANO

Luciano stuffs a few bills in his shirt pocket.

         LUCIANO
Well now we’re old friends…

As the crowd laughs he eyeballs the cake

         LUCIANO
Last time I saw a cake this
big a guy jumped out blastin’…

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM. DAY

In the darkened room a NEWSREEL on a portable screen. We see Luciano in front of a bank of microphones.

         NEWSCASTER
Mob boss Lucky Luciano is
comingout of exile to tell
his story…And the world
can’t wait…

         LUCIANO
I’m gonna leave no stone
unturned, boys. I’m gonna
rattle some cages from
Mulberry Street right on up
to the White House…

The screen goes dark. The lights come on. We are in the law offices of DEWEY, BALLANTINE, et al… THOMAS E. DEWEY, early sixties, austere black suit, pencil mustache, is sitting at the head of a conference table. With him is LIEUTENANT COMMANDER “RED’ HAFFENDEN formerly of NAVAL INTELLIGENCE and FBI agent GEORGE BLACK.

         DEWEY
He can’t come back. The
terms of his parole barred
him from ever setting foot
in the US again.

         HAFFENDEN
He’s applying for a
temporary visa to visit
his sick brother, Governor
Dewey.

         BLACK
It’s blackmail. His lawyer
threatens to reveal Luciano’s
war time activities if he
isn’t issued the visa.

         HAFFENDEN
He’s trying to sell the
movie rights to his life
story. Just wants to get
into action again.

         DEWEY
You always liked him,
Haffenden.

         HAFFENDEN
Everybody likes Lucky…

         DEWEY
(a rueful smile)
Don’t I know it. I prosecuted
the man. Proved that he was
a pimp and a murderer. And he
got better press than I did.
Still does.

         BLACK
We should have taken him
out when we had the chance.

         HAFFENDEN
(bristling)
We should have given him
a medal.

         BLACK
The man’s a security threat.
He can reveal classified
information about the FBI.

         DEWEY
About all of us. We
don’t want it known that
Luciano worked for Naval
Intelligence during the
war, do we Commander
Haffenden? I certainly don’t
want it to come out that I
made a secret agreement or
his services.

         HAFFENDEN
Charley’s a patriot in his
own cockeyed way. He won’t
talk.

         BLACK
We have to be sure.

         DEWEY
Ask Lansky.

         HAFFENDEN
Meyer? They haven’t spoken in
years.

         DEWEY
Doesn’t matter. Lansky was
his partner. They were so
close they could read each
other’s minds…Ask Lansky.

EXT. COLLINS AVE (MIAMI BEACH). DAY

A modest bungalow by the beach. FBI AGENTS WHITMAN and SNYDER are on stakeout, parked across the street in the shade of the palms.

MEYER LANSKY
emerges, with his constant companion, BRUZZER, an ancient Shih Tzu dog. He is a short, wiry man in his sixties,in a plain white shirt and slacks, a cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth .He smiles, sardonically as they approach.

         LANSKY
My own personal FBI. Want
some iced tea? A little
seltzer, maybe?

         SNYDER
Thanks Meyer, but I don’t
think J. Edgar would
approve…

         WHITMAN
Lucky’s writin’ a book,
Meyer.

         LANSKY
Lucky? Lucky who?

         WHITMAN
C’mon Meyer…

         LANSKY
You mean Charley Luciano?
Knew him in the old days.
Writin’ a book, huh? I
didn’t know he could
spell.

         SNYDER
They say Lucky knows
everything.

         LANSKY
Oh yeah? So maybe he knows
a good horse at Hialeah…

         SNYDER
He’s gonna tell everybody
where you got your money
hidden, Meyer.

         LANSKY
That’s no secret. It’s
in the pishka.

         WHITMAN
What’s that?

         LANSKY
Little glass jar where you
drop pennies to give to
the poor people in the
Holy Land…
(looks toward the house)
I better go back and tell
my wife I’m not bein’
arrested. Seeya boys…

         WHITMAN
You could do yourself a
lot of good telling your
side of the story, Meyer.

         LANSKY
I’m an old man sittin’
in the sun. That’s my
story…


INT. LANSKY’S BUNGALOW. DAY

Plain and comfortable. Family photos, book lined shelves, bric a brac or tchotkes as they are known in Yiddish. TEDDY LANSKY, early sixties, a former chorine, still trim and glamorous, is waiting anxiously.

         TEDDY
Oy Meyer, is Charley gonna
make trouble?

         LANSKY
(fishing in a drawer)
He just wants to be Page
One again. But he won’t
talk outta school.

He finds a faded photo and sits back in his lounger.

INSERT PHOTO (CROSSCUT)

Three YOUNG MEN, nattily dressed in the style of the ‘20’s. Lansky looks at it, nostalgically.

          LANSKY
Look at me and crazy
Benny… And Charley. Boy,
we sure started somethin’,
didn’t we?


Next: Part 2/LITTLE ITALY, NEW YORK, 1913

In a new department the Daily Event will reoffer some of these scripts. Read them and decide: would you like to have seen this movie?

Our first script is EMPIRES OF CRIME. Seven years in development it is a six part mini-series commissioned by a broadcast network and later reacquired by a cable station.

The story is about the founders of Organized Crime, Meyer Lansky, and “Lucky” Luciano, their fifty year partnership and the empire they created. Their friendships and families, lives and loves. It is also about their implacable enemy Thomas Dewey, a young Republican attorney who built a political career prosecuting the Mob that propelled him to the NY Governor’s Mansion and almost to the White House.

For Introduction with submission guidelines go to Oct 13 on Calendar at right. Use Contact Us, above,  for submissions.

 

MOVIES YOU WILL NEVER SEE

Sick of the movies you’re seeing? Would you like a look at the ones you’ll never see?

For every movie that is released there are hundreds of scripts that were commissioned, “developed”, written, restructured—and rewritten; reconceived, redeveloped—and rewritten; restored to their original state and—rewritten; Acquired in “turnaround” by another production entity which redeveloped, reconceived, rewrote, rejected, rescued, restored and finally—shelved them.

In a new department the Daily Event will reoffer some of these scripts. Read them and decide: would you like to have seen this movie?

Our first script is EMPIRES OF CRIME. Seven years in development it is a six part mini-series commissioned by a broadcast network and later reacquired by a cable station.

The story is about the founders of Organized Crime, Meyer Lansky, and “Lucky” Luciano, their fifty year partnership and the empire they created. Their friendships and families, lives and loves. It is also about their implacable enemy Thomas Dewey, a young Republican attorney who built a political career prosecuting the Mob that propelled him to the NY Governor’s Mansion and almost to the White House. Who hunted Luciano for years, using wiretaps and bugs, informers and tainted witnesses to send him to prison. And then released him into exile, enduring vicious accusations by his political enemies and dooming his chances of the Presidency, while never revealing the reason for his sudden turnabout.

Readers are free to submit their own shelved scripts for publication.

With two conditions:

1. The scripts must have been commissioned or acquired by a producing entity.  

2. The  writer must have full rights to the script.

The Daily Event legal department (non-existent) does not want a young Business Affairs attorney to pause the Coeds in Bondage video he is watching for the seventy-third time to write us a threatening letter.

Decisions of the judges will be final. Until, of course, they are reconceived, reconsidered, reexamined and—repeated.