1
FROM DUBLIN, IN PARIS
by
JODIE KINNERSLEY
June 2007
1
- Int. Living room. Evening
Pan across a family photo of Mum, Dad, Brother, Sister, Grandma and Dog. They have that anaemic look of the past coupled with coloured clothes that clash and have faded in the photograph.A voice-over plays. A man’s voice with an Australian accent that grows in sophistication through the monologue.
Dublin V/O
Dear Loved Ones, I find myself in a busy part of the realm. Nobody here but us visitors. But, Oh, the carnival of scents! Say hello to flat expanse and horizon and sunshine for me. Say hello to sneakers and holes in the backyard. Missing you. Love Dublin.
Brother is holding a postcard with the family gathered around. They look vaguely concerned but also fascinated.
Father
That doesn’t sound like him.
Brother
(overlapping father’s statement)
Oh, that sounds just like him.
- Ext. Streets of Beijing. Day
A dog(Dublin)is wandering through traffic and then pedestrians.
Dublin V/O
(genially)
Seems they eat dogs around here. How that makes me feel is hounded. Gotta go before they hang me by the hocks, still yelping.
- Int. Bedroom. Night
Brother lies on bed with a scrap of a note. He laughs, shocked.
4.Ext. Berlin. Day
Dublin sits on his haunches by a canal and watches ducks.
Dublin V/O
In Berlin, breathing history! I’m watching these big old apartment blocks. Never been in one but I imagine them light and airy with echoing chambers and polished floorboards.
5.Ext. Berlin. Day
Dublin eats scraps behind a building site and wanders towards a mangy looking plane tree and cocks his leg.
Dublin V/O (continued)
I have an idea for a sitcom involving me, a poodle and a budgerigar. Nobody would need to know who owns us or why: we would inhabit one of those big old apartments together.
6. Int. Living/ Dining room. Dusk
Mother is hunched over a sewing machine preparing Christmas presents. Brother and sister are silently watching television. It’s playing advertisements.
Dublin V/O (continued)
Think it will sell? Write to me about what you think of options for social control in the city. How far do you think we deserve our government in our lives? Who voted for them anyway? I will write again soon. Dublin.
7.Int. Dining room. Morning.
A stone sits on the table with other assorted debris of family life. Mother picks it all up and dumps it on a nearby shelf as the family sit for a rushed breakfast.
Dublin V/O
I’m writing by the lights of Paris. It’s beautiful. Cocked my leg on the Eiffel. (laughs) Don’t tell anybody. Oh, There’s a little package coming for you. It’s a piece of the Berlin wall some guy sold me. It just looks like any other stone, but you’ll know what I mean by it. A bientot, Dublin.
8.Int. Living room. Day
Brother, Mother and sister are gathered looking at encyclopedias, they are talking and joking, but this is muted.
Dublin V/O
Took a bit of a detour for Nepal. God: I am sick of rice and lentil mash. I eat it until I am so distended I can not bend. And then, hungry for what it lacks, I find myself eating more!
9.Ext.Mountains of Nepal. Day
Dublin is shaking as snow falls around him. A female mountaineer brings him some scraps.
Dublin V/O (continued)
I’m coming to terms with wind; with heights; with cold. My companion, whose name escapes me is thin and very brutish. I love to look at her.
10Int. Living room. Day
The family is still gathered, we can now hear their discussion. They are all looking at the encyclopedias for inspiration.
Brother
Why not a bull terrier?
Sister
Real dogs don’t fight.
Mother
This is the one. A Pharoah hound.
The father walks in as the sister smiles and snaps shut the book. They all rise.
Father
What’s going on here?
Mother kisses his cheek and grins as she walks past.
Father
This is from Dublin. (holding letter)
11Ext. Prague, Old quarter. Day
Dublin is limping and forlorn. He has a fever. He cringes around a sea of tourists, occasionally barging against them. They swear at him, usually in German. He is nearly trampled by a pair of horses. He presses, panting with his head bowed, against a stone wall as the hoovesclatter past at eye level.
12Ext. Backyard. Day
A grainy flashback from Dublin’s fever. He is on a chain and is let off. He runs around the Father’s leg and then round the side of the house. A car drives past and he chases it.
13Int. Living Room. Christmas Day
The family is gathered around the Christmas tree in pyjamas with Grandma. Mother leads the Father to the backyard. There is a new puppy on a chain.
Sister
(excited)
It’s a Pharoah hound!
Brother
We named him Cairo!
14Ext. Backyard. Day
Cairo is on a chain and is let off. He runs around the Father’s leg and then round the side of the house. A car drives past and he chases it.
Dublin V/O
Seem to be recovering, although sinuses are still blocked. Met up with a fellow traveller today. Bloke named Ryan. I gave him my address (yours, I hope you don’t mind) and said he should drop by. Off to Amsterdam tomorrow. Wish me well.
15Int. Living Room. Day
The family is gathered around the Father who is reading a letter, they all eventually begin to cry. Cairo is pawing at the window, it is cold and wet outside. Some months have passed.
Dublin V/O
I have been thinking lately I am not a dingo. I am not a wolf, either, but my roots are surely more here than back there. I am one of those strange bastard mixtures who end up salivating over curry in railway station restaurants.
16Ext. Backyard. Day
Dublin is on a chain and is let off by the Father, he is dressed in a suit and is smiling. He speaks to the dog as though he has great wisdom.
Father
Dublin, go out and meet the world head on.
Dublin runs around the Father’s leg and then round the side of the house. A car drives past and he chases it. Another car comes quickly around the bend and slams his breaks. It is too late. Dublin is dead.
Dublin V/O (continued)
I have no home; no place. But here, I have infinite opportunity for becoming. Some have never even heard of my “country of origin”. They think I’m Irish. You all called me mongrel on more than one occasion. You didn’t even bother to check the number plate.
The End