Division Street (Feature Film Script)

EXT. DIVISION STREET, CHICAGO - NIGHT

We see 1930’s Chicago along Division Street. The faces young and old. Some dressed for a night out, others in threadbare clothes. The area is run down but in the core of a bustling nightlife. Bars, nightclubs, etc. The camera moves like a voyeur taking it all in. Bits of talking, cars, music are all overheard. The hustling charm of Chicago in 1934.


INT. SWEET LADY LOUNGE - NIGHT

It’s July 23, 1934. The Sweet Lady Lounge is packed with people all getting drunk, telling stories, and singing songs in celebration and memoriam for the death of a legend. The night before, John Dillinger was shot dead in Chicago.

Behind the bar is a framed photo of a WANTED POSTER of Dillinger. Around it is a funeral wreath.
A short, stout woman, the sweet lady herself, MAY SOBOTNIK, 63, stands atop the bar ringing a bell to get the rowdy patrons to pay attention.
Everything comes to a stop.

MAY

Alright, now I want to see all your ugly mugs facing me. Tonight, we are here to celebrate the life of one of our own. He may not have been from Chicago or even called Division his stomping ground, but Chi-Town is where he met his end in a hail of bullets.
(pause)
He was a man who stuck it to those fat cats running things and made no apologies. He was crazier than the devil himself and I once had the privilege of serving him drinks in this very bar. So I want all of you to raise your glasses to a true hero and outlaw. To John Dillinger, may God have mercy on his soul.

The patrons of the Sweet Lady raise their glasses and give a loud “To John Dillinger”

MAY (CONT’D)

Now the lovely Mina is going to sing a song for us.

The PIANO MAN plays the opening chords to Bye Bye Blackbird and MINA ORLOV, 24, begins to sing.

Cut away to a group of men sitting in a booth. The man in the center is JAKE BOWDRE, 26. He is the ringleader of a small group of petty criminals that are seated around him. Jake is captivated by
Mina’s singing.

The man on his right, PATRICK FLANAGAN, 23, nudges him from his revelry. As Jake comes around, the music begins to fade, as if he’s been awoken from a sweet dream.

PATRICK

Hey Jake, didn’t you have drinks with Dillinger the night he was in here?

Jake annoyed by the interruption gruffly responds.

JAKE

Yeah. Had two whiskeys with him. Which he was good enough to pay for.

Another man at the table, WALT MCCARTY, 25, leans in.

WALT

Sure would’ve liked to have met him.

JAKE

Was a good man. Gutsiest bank robber there ever was. He will be missed.

PATRICK

Not by Hoover or Purvis.

Everybody at the table laughs but Jake, who is still focused on watching Mina.


INT. JAKE’S OFFICE - NIGHT

Jake's office is a one-room place. There is nothing to suggest that Jake spends any real time there. The only furnishings are a desk with two chairs opposite. In the corner near the desk is a large safe. The room has the feeling of a hideout or stash spot.

Jake sits down, turns the desk light on, then opens one of the drawers. He pulls out a document sized manila envelope, opens it and takes out a stack of money. Jake takes a few bills off the top, then puts the rest back in the envelope. He gets up and walks over to the safe, turns the dial and opens it up. Jake tosses the money inside and takes out a velvet bag. After closing the safe he goes back to the desk, sits down, then empties the contents on the desk. There are 3 high-quality diamond rings, two gold chains, and a Rolex. He begins inspecting the items carefully under the light.

Then there is a knock on the door.

Jake gets up from the desk and walks over to the door and takes a look through the peephole.

Jake gives a nod of recognition then opens the door letting Walt in.

Jake walks back to the desk and takes a seat. Walt sits in one of the chairs across from Jake.

JAKE

These are some really nice pieces you guys picked up. We should be able to get a few bills for them.

WALT

Thanks, boss. I was hoping maybe I could keep that watch you’re holding as part of my cut.

JAKE

Yeah. Sure thing.

Jake passes the watch across the desk to Walt.

WALT

Something else I need to talk to you about.

JAKE

What’s that?

WALT

It’s about that little grocery the Horechak’s run.

JAKE

What about it?

WALT

Don’t know if you heard, but they’ve been robbed a few time recently.

JAKE

I heard something about it.

WALT

From what I’ve heard, it’s not anybody from around here doing the stickups.

JAKE

That so.

WALT

Yeah, boss. And well, I’m close with the Horechak’s. Mrs. Horechak and my mother came to the neighborhood about the same time. They helped take care of me and my sisters when we were growing up. Gave us food when we couldn’t buy any and they looked after my youngest sister when my Pop got locked up and my mother was working three jobs.

JAKE

They are good people. I think my Pop used to play cards sometimes with Mr. Horechak.

WALT

I was thinking maybe we could help them out.

JAKE

What did you have in mind?

WALT

Just a little something to let them know we’re looking out for them, the way they did for me growing up.

JAKE

Sure. Why don’t you let them know I’m looking into it.

Jake reaches into a desk drawer, pulls out an envelope, and takes a few bills out.

JAKE (CONT’D)

Give this to Mrs. Horechak to help cover their losses. After you see them, find Patrick and see what the two of you can find out about who might be behind the hold-ups.

WALT

Sure thing, boss. I’ll head over there right now. I know the family will really appreciate it.

JAKE

We got to look out for our own, right.

The Poetry of William Blake

"The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom."

The above is probably one of the most often quoted lines of William Blake's and is largely believed to be one of the driving principles in the personal philosophy of Jim Morrison, the infamous front man of The Doors. William Blake also happens to be one of the first poets that entranced me. I first came to know his work directly in a high school English class. Though the language felt antiquated, the biblical imagery and sense of Christian mysticism was something I could connect to given my Catholic upbringing.

One day while searching through the stacks of a used bookstore, I came across copies of Songs of Experience and The Marriage of Heaven and Hell and bought them both. Blake's poetry was like glimpsing a new world where the poet was an interpreter of a divine message, a person with a secret calling that couldn't be understood by others. His words had a direct impact on my own nascent writings and would lead me to discover other artists that had fallen under his influence. The music of The Doors, Jim Jarmusch's film Dead Man, Aldous Huxley's cult book The Doors of Perception, and the band The Verve, whose song 'History; borrowed from Blake's poem 'London'.   

I still have the copies of those two paperbacks I picked up that day, I have also added The Complete Poetry & Prose of William Blake to my collection. These are a few of the pieces that I still go back to seeking inspiration.


A Divine Image

Cruelty has a Human Heart 

And Jealousy a Human Face 

Terror the Human Form Divine 

And Secrecy, the Human Dress 

The Human Dress, is forged Iron 

The Human Form, a fiery Forge. 

The Human Face, a Furnace seal'd 

The Human Heart, its hungry Gorge.

London

I wander thro' each charter'd street, 

Near where the charter'd Thames does flow. 

And mark in every face I meet 

Marks of weakness, marks of woe. 

In every cry of every Man, 

In every Infants cry of fear, 

In every voice: in every ban, 

The mind-forg'd manacles I hear 

How the Chimney-sweepers cry 

Every blackning Church appalls, 

And the hapless Soldiers sigh 

Runs in blood down Palace walls 

But most thro' midnight streets I hear

How the youthful Harlots curse 

Blasts the new-born Infants tear

And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse 

From The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (plate 14)

The ancient tradition that the world will be consumed in fire at the end of six thousand years

is true, as I have heard from Hell.

For the cherub with his flaming sword is hereby commanded to leave his guard at tree of life,

and when he does, the whole creation will be consumed, and appear infinite, and holy

whereas it now appears finite & corrupt.

This will come to pass by an improvement of sensual enjoyment.

But first the notion that man has a body distinct from his soul, is to be expunged: this I shall

do, by printing in the infernal method, by corrosives, which in Hell are salutary and

medicinal, melting apparent surfaces away, and displaying the infinite which was hid.

If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite.

For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.

Morrison Hotel & Hard Rock Cafe

When I first moved to L.A., I lived in Downtown. My time living in DTLA was great, and I try and get back to the area as much as possible. One of the things I liked to do when I lived there, and a thing I like to do around L.A. as much as possible is to visit culture landmarks. Especially those that are abandoned, forgotten, or totally made over. Recently, I went to find the original Morrison Hotel and Hard Rock Cafe that was featured on the front and back covers of the classic Doors album.

The original Morrison Hotel was located at 1246 South Hope Street. Currently, the Morrison Hotel building is abandoned but is likely to be converted into apartments or a boutique hotel in the near future as the revitalization of downtown continues. The Hard Rock Cafe was located at 300 East 5th Street and is now a Green Apple Market. Both of the iconic album photos were taken by the legendary Henry Diltz.

Cover of The Doors Morrison Hotel Album

The Window of The Morrison Hotel as of 2017.

View of The Morrison Hotel from across the street.

View of the alley alongside the side of the hotel.  

The Original Hard Rock Cafe in Downtown Los Angeles.

The Doors inside The Original Hard Rock Cafe in Downtown Los Angeles

Green Apple Market which currently occupies the space where the Hard Rock Cafe was located. 

A Life In Hiding

So... For the last three years, I have been largely focused on writing anything and everything that doesn't involve blog posts. Which is a shame because once upon a time I really enjoyed it. Not to say I necessarily stopped enjoying it, but writing scripts and books took priority. Now feels like a good time to get back into blogging. As with my previous blog The Lives and The Laughter and with this one, for the brief period I kept up with it, I will be writing about whatever the hell I want to. Entertainment, fiction, current events,  my wanderings around L.A. The point being that if it inspires me to put a few words down, then I'm going to do just that.  So for now, I'm going to leave you with a reminder that I've written some books. I would certainly appreciate it if you bought one or two of them.

West of Zanzibar

 

CAST

Lon Chaney (Phroso/Dead Legs), 

Lionel Barrymore (Crane), 

Mary Nolan (Maizie), 

Warner Baxter (Doc), 

Jacqueline Gadsden (Anna)

Directed By: 

Tod Browning 

Written By:

Elliot J. Clawson. 

Based on the play Kongo by Chester De Vonde

Run Time: 65 min.

West of Zanzibar was released on November 24, 1928 and turned out to be the second to last of the famous Chaney/Browning collaborations, which had begun to grow stale with critics. Donald Beaton wrote in Film Spectator, “There are a lot of people who are getting sick of seeing Chaney gulp over some girl half his age who is ungrateful enough to love someone else or set his jaw while another girl who doesn't know she is his daughter tells him that he is a low form of life . . . Chaney's once considerable acting ability has been atrophied by the parts he has to play until he has about three expressions left . . .” ¹

The film opens with a performance by the magician Phroso Flint (Lon Chaney). He is in the midst of his famous revolving secret door coffin trick. Phroso's assistant is his beautiful wife, Anna (Jacqueline Gadsden). From the very beginning we get the sense that theirs is a doomed relationship. Especially after we find out Anna is having an affair with a man named Crane (Lionel Barrymore), who is an ivory merchant in Africa. During the rest of the circus performances, a popular setting for Browning's films, Crane tells Phroso that he and Anna are running away together. A fight between Phroso and Crane ensues and Phroso is pushed off a balcony, becoming paralyzed from the fall.

Months later, Anna returns with a child. Anna is near death and Phroso meets with her in a church. When Phroso arrives, Anna is too weak to speak and soon in dramatic fashion dies, leaving Phroso grief stricken and vowing to get revenge on Crane by using the child that is now in his custody.

Eighteen years later—West of Zanizbar. Phroso Flint is now living in an outpost going by the name Dead Legs. When the local tribal king pays him a visit there is a great deal of classic racist and colonial attitudes on display, which were still very much apart of the accepted attitude of Hollywood films in the late 1920's. And is still accepted in Hollywood period pieces because this is how people probably thought and acted at the time. Dead Legs uses parlor tricks to convince the uncivilized and naïve natives that he has great magic and they need to fear him. Then one night while the local tribesmen are carrying elephant tusks back to the outpost of a local ivory merchant, a man sent by Dead Legs dressed up in a Voodoo costume scares the tribesmen and steals the tusks. We learn that Dead Legs is doing this in order to steal all the ivory from a local trader, who happens to be Crane.

After antagonizing Crane by stealing his ivory, Dead Legs decides it's time to put part two of his plan into action. Dead Legs sends word to the brothel he stashed Anna's daughter, Maizie (Mary Nolan), 18 years ago. In those years she has become a desperate alcoholic. Maizie is under the impression that she is being taken to finally meet her father. When she arrives at the outpost, she finds Dead Legs men sloppy drunk and acting crazy and Dead Legs himself, slithering across the floor like a serpent. Dead Legs pulls himself into his wheelchair to greet her, and Maizie asks him if he is her father. Dead Legs informs her that he is not. Maizie wants to know why she was brought her instead of to her father. While this is going on the natives have gathered outside of the outpost for a funeral ceremony. While Maizie is demanding an answer, Dead Legs puts on a terrifying ceremonial mask and joins the tribe for the funeral. Maizie watches the ceremony which involves the cremation of the deceased as well as having his wife and daughters burned alive with his body. Maizie becomes hysterical and tries to flee but is quickly recaptured.

Maizie and Doc (Warner Baxter), the alcoholic doctor who treats Dead Legs, develop a bond based initially on the fact that they are both in a sense prisoners of Dead Legs. Then news comes that Crane is coming to pay Dead Legs a visit now that he knows Dead Legs is the one behind the ivory thefts. The scene between Crane and Dead Legs is fantastic. As Crane enters the outpost, Dead Legs comes crawling out. At first, Crane doesn't realize the true identity of Dead Legs that is until Dead Legs shows Crane the coffin with the skeleton inside which he used to use in his act when he was still Phroso. Initially Crane finds the revelation hilarious. Then Maizie enters the room strung out. At this time Doc reveals that he is in love with Maizie. Crane is amused by the drama happening before him, then Dead Legs informs him that Maizie is Anna's daughter. Crane appears devastated by the news until he reveals to Dead Legs that Maizie is actually his daughter because Anna never ran away with Crane after she found out what he had done to Phroso/Dead Legs. The shot of the tortured Dead Legs trying to grasp what he has just learned is phenomenal. The emotion Cheney could convey with a single expression in a close up has never been matched.

Dead Legs and Anna are now left alone to deal with the nightmarish life he has inflicted upon her. Dead Legs tries for reconciliation, offering to take her anywhere in the world she wants to go. Soon a group of natives returns to the outpost with Crane, who is near death after being shot on orders from Dead Legs. Dead Legs realizing that Maizie will be burned alive if Crane dies, orders Doc to save him. Unfortunately, Crane is too far gone and Doc can do nothing. 

When Crane dies, the tribesman begin to prepare for the funeral. As is local custom Maizie is to be burned with Crane because everyone is under the impression that she is Crane's daughter. Dead Legs reveals to Doc that he is in fact her father. Doc can't bear to tell Maizie that Dead Legs is her real father, so he lies, telling Maizie her real father died years ago. When the men come for Maizie, Dead Legs tells them that he will bring her out himself. Doc and Dead Legs plot a way to save Maizie so she can avoid this terrible fate. 

 

Dead Legs decides to try a little 'White Man's Magic' to save Maizie from burning. With the natives watching, he puts her in the same wooden coffin with a secret exit that he used to use in his show. He closes it, then when he reopens it, there is a skeleton inside. Meanwhile, Doc, Maizie and the others flee by boat. However, the natives do not believe Dead Legs claim that an evil spirit has taken Maizie. The screen fades to black as the natives close in on Dead Legs. Later, a native fishes the same medallion that had hung around Dead Legs neck from out of the ashes.

West of Zanibar is a dark spectacle that seemed a perfect adaptation for Tod Browning. Unfortunately, Browning was no longer the director he had been and his creative relationship with Chaney had grown somewhat stale. West of Zanibar lacks the humanity that early Browning/Chaney films like The Unknown or The Blackbird . The sense that Phroso/Dead Legs had fully transformed to a cold-hearted animal is wonderfully conveyed in the way Chaney slithers along the floor near the end of the film. But the attempt to make him a redeemable figure in the end by having him sacrifice himself for Maizie felt a little too late. And even though Chaney still showed his ability to completely morph into someone else both body and soul and certainly looked tortured and anguished, his performance wasn't anywhere near as strong as it had been in films like Laugh, Clown, Laugh or his two most famous performances in, The Hunchback of Notre Dame and The Phantom of The Opera. Overall a good film to watch to experience the full arc of the Browning/Chaney collaborations.

1David J. Skal, Elias Savada. Dark Carnival: The Secret World of Tod Browning . (Anchor Books/Doubleday 1995)

Swing Low, Sweet Dong Sorcerer

A video by Jack Hackhorn for Swing Low, Sweet Dong Sorcerer by JUBANO!

heart has awoken

She is the mystical everything.

Goddess under sun and moon.

All the stars wishing to be her lover.

She is my muse with scars.

I know her heart, her dreams,

the broken, splintered bones

in the closets of her mind.

She knows the times I have tasted death.

The acts of desperation.

The moments of salvation found

in the eye of the storm.

Our love is based on these truths

and understandings.

As I sit across from her,

gazing into her dilated pupils

that reflect the flickering flames.

I am hypnotized.

Our hearts swell and pound with love and lust.

The energy we emit cause the flames to leap.

She knows my breath, hands, and lips

The way they feel upon her body.

I know how to send warmth, electricity,

along veins and nerves

making her body writhe.

Pleasure her in ways that only someone,

who has been her lover

in each of her incarnations could.

I'm driven into a frenzy by the scent of her neck.

Her exquisite velveteen skin.

The way her body turns from a slow, deep burning flame,

into an uncontrollable bonfire.

She is aroused by the way I moan and breathe

like a hungry, desirous, wild thing.

When her flesh becomes my flesh −−

my heart becomes her heart.

We become a single incandescent entity.

In sleep we still seek each other.

Various images of adoration and eroticism

find their way into our dreams,

burning themselves into the backs of our eyelids

so each time we close our eyes they can be seen.

A poem from my book, The Unimaginable City. Now available at amazon