Black List Script #3: The Voices by Michael R. Perry
MAJOR DISCLAIMER: Since these scripts, bought or not, are currently unproduced and/or in the midst of long, tedious development processes, they may not make it to the screen for up to three years, if ever. You should know that the synopsis contains MASSIVE, EARTH-SHATTERING SPOILERS, even though this screenplay may not resemble the finished film (if any) in any way. Read at your own risk.
Secondary Disclaimer: I refer to what follows as “coverage” by the loosest definition of that term. In keeping with this blog’s tradition, I’ve crammed the notes so full of rancorous rants, it’s 1/10th as concise as actual coverage, almost falling into the category of a review. However, since I’ve included the loglines and a detailed synopsis, it’s close enough to coverage for my purposes. Deal with it.
Logline (provided by The Black List): “A disturbed man attempts to walk the straight-and-narrow while receiving advice from his ‘talking’ pets.”
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Synopsis
Notes
The Bottom Line
Synopsis
A sinister cat, MR. WHISKERS, clashes with the idyllic small town of Veedersburg, Ohio, when he kills a mockingbird just to watch it die, then bats it around with evident pleasure. The cat’s owner, JERRY HICKFANG (29), works in the shipping department of Veedersburg’s economic mainstay, a bathroom fixture factory. He’s approached by DENNIS from the personnel department; after congratulating Jerry on his good work, Dennis informs Jerry that, as the newest employee in the shipping department, he’ll have to spend his off-hours helping to plan a company picnic with members of the factory’s other departments. Jerry is cheerful and enthusiastic about this responsibility, further impressing Dennis. Jerry returns to his home — an apartment above an abandoned bowling alley — and greets his two pets (Mr. Whiskers and BOSCO, a friendly dog) on his way to his bedroom. Inside his bedroom, an offscreen ROOMMATE badgers Jerry about his station in life, ridiculing him and announcing that the factory employees only keep him around for a laugh. Finally, Jerry exits his bedroom to confront the roommate — Mr. Whiskers, who can talk in the same CGI/animatronic way the animals in Babe talked. Mr. Whiskers and Bosco become the devil and angel perched on Jerry’s shoulder: Whiskers is hostile and evil, while Bosco is very pleasant and reassuring.
During the picnic-planning process, Jerry makes some awkward attempts to socialize. Nobody really cares. KATIE, the cute new girl in accounting, is put in charge of the music. She immediately pitches the idea of doing “The Macarena.” Nobody’s terribly enthusiastic, but eventually they agree to allow it. After the group is assigned responsibilities, they break apart. Katie approaches Jerry, who’s in charge of the sound system, to ask if it’ll work with an iPod. Jerry isn’t sure, so he tells her to come by tomorrow to test it out. As requested, she drops by the following day and is surprised and amused to find Jerry rocking out to speed metal. They plug in her iPod, and she turns on “The Macarena.” They joke about possible meanings to the song, and Jerry finds himself smitten. He comes home, walking on air. Bosco’s thrilled at the prospect of Jerry with a girlfriend, but Mr. Whiskers doesn’t share the dog’s boisterous enthusiasm. Jerry ignores the cat.
Jerry visits his court-appointed psychiatrist, the attractive DR. WEST, who’s very supportive about Jerry’s excitement over the company picnic. She asks him about his medication, and Jerry intimates that he hasn’t been taking it with any regularity. West stresses the importance of the meds and asks if he hears voices. Jerry tells her no and complains that the question reminds him of his mother, who claimed to hear the voices of angels calling to her. West explains that this was his mother’s way of coping with her psychiatric issues. Jerry asks her what to do about Katie — he likes her, he wants to be honest with her, but he’s afraid of scaring her off. He decides to only say something if the subject comes up, and West reassures him in that decision.
At the picnic, Katie innocently asks Jerry to dance “The Macarena” — they do, and he’s entranced. He comes home that evening feeling great, muttering the word “macarena” over and over. Bosco’s thrilled that his master is happy, but Mr. Whiskers chides Jerry for not being able to get laid. At work, Jerry walks on air, listening to an off-brand MP3 player with “The Macarena” on an endless loop. He dances and annoys his coworkers. At the end of the day, Jerry comes to visit Katie in accounting (at the picnic, she told him to “come vist [her] some time”). She’s hooched up and ready to go out drinking with her girlfriends. LISA, a slightly sluttier coworker, eagerly invites Jerry along with them. Katie’s unenthusiastic about it, especially when — after a night of drinking — Lisa volunteers Jerry to drive Katie home. On the way home, Jerry invites Katie to the State Fair. She half-heartedly agrees to meet him there. Jerry goes home and excitedly tells Bosco the news. Mr. Whiskers is more interested in Jerry opening a can of cat food for them.
The next day, Jerry drops by the accounting department and runs into Lisa. He has a State Fair pig-racing schedule to drop off for Katie, who isn’t there. Lisa assures Jerry she’ll get it to him, but it takes him awhile to get the hint and actually leave. When he does, Katie emerges, telling Lisa she agreed to meet Jerry at the fair. Lisa reminds Katie it’s karaoke night. Katie says she’ll wait until the office closes and leave him a cancellation VoiceMail. Jerry wanders the fair alone, looking at all the loving couples, dejected. It begins to rain. Still waiting for Katie, Jerry sits in his truck, in the parking lot, until a security guard forces him to leave. Depressed, Jerry drives by the park where the company picnic was held, blasting “The Macarena”; he goes to TGI Friday’s and drinks alone. Meanwhile, Lisa gives Katie a ride back to the factory (where her car is parked) because it’s too rainy to walk. Katie’s car won’t start, and the storm is getting worse. Her cell phone is damaged in the rain, so she can’t call for help. Finally, she flags down a truck — Jerry, who perceives Katie as an angel he was fated to love thanks to the glow of the lightning creating a halo backlight around her. Katie apologizes for ditching him. They agree to have dinner together.
While driving to the diner, Jerry and Katie talk about themselves — Jerry’s a lifelong Veedersburg resident, but Katie only moved there a few years ago. Another lightning strike makes her look angelic, and Jerry’s starting to spin out. He starts asking her about heaven. She explains she grew up in Gary, Indiana, which is closer to hell. The talk of angels and hell reminds Jerry of a nugget of trivia: only four Biblical angels have names. He names three and asks her to name the fourth. Katie doesn’t know the answer, and before Jerry can tell her — he hits a huge buck. Katie screams as his antlers shatter the windshield and Jerry swerves on the rain-slick, winding road. He finally stops and kills the engine — and the buck begins thrashing. Like his pets, the buck talks to Jerry, telling him he wants to die. Jerry respects the buck’s wishes and slits his throat, drenching Katie in blood. Katie is horrified, especially when Jerry gets back in the car and cheerfully launches back into his trivia: Lucifer was the fourth angel.
Katie panics and runs into the woods. Jerry follows her, trying to explain it was an accident. He catches up to her, and after she thrashes, punching and kicking him, he pulls her into a close embrace — then she pulls away, and he realizes he has stabbed her. Aware she’s suffering, Jerry puts her out of her misery. Jerry returns home, pulls off his bloody clothes, and tries to get his bearings. Bosco tries to convince Jerry to go to the cops, which Jerry is ready to agree with until Mr. Whiskers points out the naïveté involved in that plan. Bosco tells Jerry it’s okay because it was an accident, but Mr. Whiskers speculates that Jerry is a born killer. Jerry goes to the police station and asks to speak with a Detective, WEINBACHER, with whom he has some sort of history. Jerry tells Weinbacher he screwed up and needs advice. He leads Weinbacher to his truck — and reveals the buck he hit. Weinbacher suggests Jerry clean it and save the meat before it spoils. Jerry takes the buck back home and carves him up. Mr. Whiskers urges Jerry to do something about Katie’s body before someone finds her.
The next day at work, Dennis panics Jerry by announcing he saw him on Friday. He means at the fair, then immediately asks if Jerry has seen Katie, who didn’t show up to work and won’t answer her phone. Jerry unconvincingly denies any knowledge. This, and another conversation with Mr. Whiskers, convinces Jerry to go to the woods and get Katie’s body. Just as he’s wrapping her body in plastic sheeting, Dr. West calls to remind Jerry of his appointment, which he’s currently missing. Jerry tells her he’ll be right over. Once again, Dr. West reminds Jerry of the importance of taking the medication. His prison release was conditional, so if he’s not doing everything he’s told, he could end up back in the slammer. After the appointment, Jerry returns to his truck, where Katie’s body waits. At home, he carves up her body. Bosco is sympathetic to the emotional difficulty Jerry is having, but Mr. Whiskers is more concerned about Jerry’s pills. He warns Jerry against taking them. As a counterpoint, Katie’s severed head — stored in the refrigerator — demands that Jerry take them. Jerry listens.
By morning, he has reached a transitional point — things are still sunny and optimistic, but Mr. Whiskers and Bosco no longer “talk.” Rather, the bark and meow in a combination of human and animal voices. While at work, the pills really kick in — the color drains out of the image, and the widescreen narrows to a square. The sound gets tinny and distant. Jerry’s dull-eyed and disinterested instead of raring to go. After work, he returns to his apartment, and for the first time we — and Jerry — get an “objective” view of it: it’s a complete sty, and that’s not just because it’s covered in deer and human blood. It’s full of insects, rotting food, etc. The “real” Mr. Whiskers is scrawny and poorly tended; Bosco has out-of-control mange and some sort of disgusting ocular disorder. Katie’s severed head rots in the fridge, gray and disgusting. The next morning, Jerry’s mirror image — still residing in the sparkling, colorful world we previously lived in with Jerry — demands he gets rid of the pills. Jerry flushes them. As the drugs wear off, the image and sound is restored, as is Jerry’s mood.
A group of birdwatchers discover Katie’s blood-soaked purse and a chunk of her intestine. Police are called. That night, Jerry and his pets watch an Animal Planet show emphasizing animal-on-animal murders. Mr. Whiskers encourages Jerry to kill someone else, but Jerry doesn’t want to. Bosco comes to Jerry’s defense, getting into a fight with Mr. Whiskers over whether or not Jerry should continue killing. Jerry gets lost in contemplation. The next morning, while Jerry eats breakfast, Katie’s severed head begs him for a friend. Jerry reluctantly agrees. At work, he cozies up to Lisa and asks her out. They have an after-work drink, where she grumbles about her divorce and brings up her cat. Jerry describes the difficulties of cat ownership, and Lisa agrees. She invites Jerry to her place to meet her cat. Jerry agrees. He drives along a rural, winding road and misses the turn to Lisa’s apartment. He says he has a surprise and takes her to an old, long-abandoned farm — the place where he grew up. He follows Lisa inside, carefully hiding his knife.
Inside his childhood home, Jerry sees himself as a teenager, showing his mother DENISE (40s, intense) and stepfather MACK (30s, brawny and violent) a sock puppet he believes is real. Mack tries to beat the delusion out of him, but teen Jerry won’t relent, so Mack tears the sock into ribbons. He snaps out of the memory, and Lisa sees he’s shaken. She’s sympathetic. They go upstairs, where Jerry flashes on his teen self with Denise once again — she’s in bed and looking worse for wear, terrified that “they” are coming for her, because she told “them” that the angels talk to her and they don’t believe her. Jerry says he believes her, because he hears them, too. Denise begs him for help as police cars arrive. Jerry kills her. In the present, Jerry tells Lisa that his mother died in this room. Lisa opens up, too: she had an abusive father and a methadone-addicted mother. Feeling truly sympathetic, Jerry drops the knife as they leave the room. They go back to Lisa’s apartment and make love — awkwardly yet tenderly.
The next day, both Jerry and Lisa are all smiles. When he gets home the next morning, Bosco’s thrilled to “smell” that Jerry got laid, but Mr. Whiskers is pissed — he left them alone all night without any food. Now that Jerry’s in love — really in love — he’s a little nervous about the things he’s done. Mr. Whiskers advises him to keep ignoring it. At work, Jerry and Lisa make out in the copy room and are interrupted by ALISON, another coworker. Jerry feels awkward, so he leaves. Alison thinks Jerry is cute. Lisa asks Alison to find Jerry’s address in the payroll information so she can surprise him. At home, Jerry intently watches a news report about the alleged “serial killer” who killed Katie. As a reporter interviews Weinbacher, he addresses Jerry directly. Jerry gripes that he doesn’t want to be a serial killer. Katie’s severed head asks to be let out of the refrigerator so they can discuss his problems. Jerry, Bosco, Mr. Whiskers, and Katie’s severed head all discuss Jerry’s killing and why he does bad things. Jerry quickly realizes that pets and severed heads don’t talk, which means they must be figments of his insane mind, so when he blames Mr. Whiskers for encouraging him to kill, he’s really blaming himself.
The doorbell rings, frightening them all. It’s Lisa, with a cake. Jerry quickly goes out on the landing to meet him, inadvertently locking himself out in his frantic effort to keep her from entering the apartment. Jerry thanks her for the cake and tells her he can’t let her in because it’s a mess. He climbs up to the skylight to let himself back inside. But Lisa, who frequently forgets her keys, is an expert lock picker — she gets into the apartment before he does, but Jerry’s fumbling on the roof so preoccupies her that she doesn’t notice the squalid living conditions or severed head (which Jerry covered with a windbreaker). When she finally takes in the scene, she’s horrified. Jerry comes into the apartment, horribly disappointed in himself. He wants to explain, but before he can, she bumps into the windbreaker, revealing Katie’s severed head. Lisa starts screaming, and Mr. Whiskers demands Jerry kill her. Lisa runs out into the woods. She darts down a ravine, but Jerry’s clumsy and falls — right on top of her, seriously injuring her. He strangles her to finish the job, then drags the body to his apartment and dismembers it.
Worried about Lisa after a coworker points her to a newspaper article revealing that Jerry was imprisoned for killing his mother, Alison drives out to the bowling alley, where she finds Lisa’s car. Jerry comes outside to meet her and smoothly talks his way out of it, by implying Lisa’s in his apartment and there in the middle of a lovemaking session. Alison is ready to go when Jerry turns back to his apartment, revealing the knife in his back pocket. She screams and runs into the field behind the bowling alley. Jerry follows, kills her, and dismembers her. Bosco informs Jerry that he no longer thinks Jerry is a good person. Jerry sinks Alison’s car into the river. DANA, Alison’s (male) coworker, comes to the bowling alley looking for her. Jerry’s gone, and he left the door unlocked. Dana takes one look inside, one whiff of the carnage, and vomits immediately.
Jerry gets another call from Dr. West — he’s late for yet another session. Jerry races over, soaking wet and looking disheveled. Jerry tells her Mr. Whiskers made him stop taking the drugs, and that he killed three people and feels terrible about it. West decides to call 911, but Jerry assaults her, smashing the phone and tying her up with packing tape. He drags her to his childhood farmhouse and complains about God — if God didn’t want him to kill, why would He force Jerry to have such a rotten childhood? He agrees to remove West’s gag if she can answer and put him on the “fast-track to mental health.” West says God is so complex, the human mind cannot understand Him or His motivations; in order to help them, He sent Jesus to show what He wanted in a way humans could understand. Jerry cites bowling a perfect game as another example of God showing perfection in a way humans can understand. Jerry asks why he hears voices. West says many people hear voices for many different reasons — he’s not alone, but the key is that he doesn’t have to act on the voices. This is a startling revelation for Jerry.
Dana reports Jerry’s crimes to the police. Jerry brings West back to his apartment, where Bosco greets her enthusiastically and Mr. Whiskers ridiculous her psychotherapy skills. West, who does not see the animals talking, is baffled and terrified. West begs to make a phone call — not to call the police, but so she won’t have to be alone. Jerry honors her request by bringing Katie’s severed head into the room to keep her company. West screams, prompting Katie’s severed head to scream. Mr. Whiskers and Bosco join. Jerry silences them — and notices the police emergency lights flashing outside the window. He grabs his pets and drags them into the bathroom, where he removes an access panel leading down into the bowling alley. Mr. Whiskers flees before Jerry can drop him in, so he and Bosco crawl down into the bowling alley. Meanwhile, West attempts to dial 911 when a SWAT team bursts into the apartment.
Down in the bowling alley, Jerry sees JESUS bowling a perfect game. Jesus tells Jerry he can be forgiven as long as he forgives himself — and others, like his stepfather. Jerry refuses, but Jesus points out that Mack tried the best he could, however imperfectly. If Jerry can’t forgive a man like that, how can he expect his murder victims to forgive him? Mack appears, still a dick, but Jerry finds it in his heart to forgive him. Mr. Whiskers reappears as Mack disappears. Jerry wants to know why Jesus put him through this life, but Jesus simply says it’s part of a bigger picture and that it was not a mistake. The SWAT team descends on the bowling alley.
As they try to enter, the police accidentally set the bowling alley on fire. As toxic smoke cuts off the air supply to Jerry’s brain, he seems to be dying — when suddenly everything turns into an MGM musical. The bowling alley is in mint condition, the smoke has turned into a “tasteful fog,” the SWAT team has turned into Vegas dancers (in dance-friendly variations on SWAT uniforms). Jerry finds Mack, Denise, Lisa, Katie, and Alison looking vibrant and healthy. Jesus appears, too, as do Mr. Whiskers and Bosco. Together, they dance “The Macarena.”
Notes
Remember last year, when I kept ranting about believability? Tons of scripts with great concepts, executed poorly because the writers had no interest in keeping their scripts grounded in believable behavior. The argument is pretty simple: you can offer up the weirdest movie ever made, and I’ll gladly buy into it as long as the characters — weird though they may be — have clear motivations for their weirdness, the weird things they do, and the weird circumstances in which they live. Do not confuse believability with realism. I don’t give a shit about realism. I just want to be able to both understand why characters do what they do, feel what they feel, and believe it. I think, even when movie fans have a hard time articulating why they disliked a movie, it all ultimately goes back to believability.
Lazier writers than me seem to feel like the issues with believability will work themselves out through a combination of acting and directing. While that might be true to some degree, isn’t it still just flat-out bad writing to ignore such things? Especially when you’re trying to sell it — if, as I argue, part of selling a project has as much to do with The Concept as “selling” readers on the story, characters, and universe you’ve created, doesn’t a lack of believability add up to poor salesmanship? Obviously not, considering the shitty scripts topping last year’s Black List were bought and paid for, but I’d still like to believe in a better world. Wouldn’t you?
This brings me to The Voices, a batshit-crazy story that nevertheless delivers pretty much everything I want as a screenwriter and lover of the written word. True, it has its share of problems — primarily, a somewhat repetitive first act and a running gag about “The Macarena” that starts to get a tad eye-rolling before bringing it back for a legitimately hilarious final moment — but it has subtle, well-crafted characters; a thoroughly engaging, frequently hilarious story; and the Jupiter-sized balls to ask tough questions and answer them in irreverent yet insightful ways.
I wasn’t sold on this script at first. Although Perry does a pretty nice job with the slow build of Jerry’s abundant mental problems, the repetitive first act is a little bit too cutesy and coy. Although the writing itself was significantly better right off the bet, I nevertheless found myself girding my loins for another Butter or The Beaver. However, the first act (aside from “The Macarena” joke going stale after approximately the second reference to it) retroactively becomes great in light of what happens afterward. Perry is less interested in The Concept than the complex, difficult character he has created in Jerry. After his murder of Katie and subsequent moral confusion, the script turns into a dark, fascinating portrait of a serial killer (even putting Henry to shame).
The second act complications don’t revolve around the expected (Jerry’s wacky attempts to hide the murder). Rather, Perry depicts Jerry’s struggle to be “good” despite having a severed head in his refrigerator that he thinks has the ability talk to him. With visually arresting detail, he contrasts Jerry’s bubbly-yet-insane personality with the drab, leveled-off medicated Jerry. Equally fascinating is Jerry’s flashback-laden trip to the family farm. I’ll give you that heading out to the family farm might be a sort of cheap plot device in order to further develop Jerry’s character, but it works because (a) Perry sets up Jerry as the sort of dumbass who would come up with the plan to lure someone to a place associated with him and him alone in order to commit a murder, (b) what we’re shown of Jerry’s past is as disturbing as it is fascinating, and (c) it allows Lisa to make an emotional connection with him, further enhancing both of their characters and sending the story down yet another (mostly) unexpected road.
When things really go off the rails in the third act, the story is already humming along so well that it’s easy to ignore Alison and Dana’s lack of development or the weird pseudo-plot hole with Detective Weinbacher. (Seriously: in such a small town, with one well-known semi-psychotic killer who has confessed to his court-appointed shrink to taking his meds inconsistently, he never turns up as a suspect? Why even have Weinbacher in the story? Why not just paint it as an inept county sheriff’s department who couldn’t solve a murder if the killer confessed?) Things get really interesting when Jerry starts debating with Dr. West (and his pets) about the nature of God, why He would sentence Jerry to such a rotten life, and the ultimate question: does a person have to listen to that voice, whether it’s the voice of crippling self-doubt or an extremely moral conscience or pets telling you to kill people? Does ignoring that voice lead to a better life, or does it lead to worse behavior? Perry supposes it depends on the person, and I don’t disagree.
Amid all these questions comes a sequence that’s sure to generate controversy: although it’s evidently a hallucination induced by toxic chemicals and oxygen deprivation, Jesus appears with a bit of tough love that ultimately leads to forgiveness. It’s a gamble, and the full-on absurdity of all the dead players gathering with Jesus and Vegas dancer SWAT officers is a risky ending that, in a weaker script, would have sent me on a rant to end all rants — but here, it works exceptionally well. As Perry has written it, this is the only way to end the story, and it’s remarkably effective (especially in its portrayal of Jesus as a benevolent and forgiving sort — a lot of religious retards seem to forget that part).
So the next time you see me bitching about believability — especially in comedies — just think about The Voices and remind yourself, “This is what Stan’s talking about. He doesn’t just hate everything because he’s a bitter, jealous troll. He’s a bitter, jealous troll because everything’s shit but The Voices, yet all the shit still sells while he toils in obscurity describing memories of beating off.”
The Bottom Line
Here’s all The Voices needs to go from “pretty fucking great” to “insty-classic”: fewer “Macarena” jokes early on (less is more!), either an emphasis or de-emphasis (it’s up to Perry) of Weinbacher, and a production team willing to go ahead with a challenging, intelligent script. No matter how tiny or seemingly insignificant, any attempts to dumb it down or make Jerry “more relatable” (having both Lisa and Katie’s deaths as “mercy killings” is about as “nice” as he should get) will fuck it up. He’s plenty empathetic, despite his insanity, because Perry imbues the character with remarkable depth. Do we really need to “relate” to him in the sense that his killings are justified or he’s a friendly guy who’s fingered for murders he didn’t commit? It concerns me deeply that Hollywood will fuck this up, because this is too good a script to be ruined by focus groups or retarded executives who attempt to justify their existence by giving story notes. I’m usually not that against The Machine, but this is one of those cases where the development process is destined to fuck a script up rather than improving it.
Posted by Stan on December 16, 2009 5:13 PM | Permalink | Print-Friendly | Reviews | Digg It
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