REDBURN From Man to Boy – His First Voyage – A Filmscript - 3. Part 3 – A Trip Overland

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[Part 3 – A Trip Overland – I: Baltimore Clipper]

EXT. STREET BEFORE “THE BALTIMORE CLIPPER” – NIGHT

The Highlander’s CREW make their way through the greasy and crowded streets of Liverpool near the docks. Some streetlights and door lanterns make the scene even drabber to REDBURN, who trails behind. The denizens of the street are prostitutes, hustlers, street urchins and sailors from various nations. The beggars catch Redburn’s eye particularly, for they trudge in the gutters barefoot and in rags. The crew pool in front of a storefront and makes a show of ‘after you’ as they file through the door. Redburn looks up at the sign: “Ye Baltimore Clipper.” Above the text is a ship in full sail on a choppy sea. As he is last to go in, he notices a youth standing in a doorway two doors down on the opposite side of the street from the tavern. HARRY BOLTON leans heavily on the wall, both hands shoved in his breeches’ pockets. He is a young man about Redburn’s age, with chestnut hair and soulful eyes. He wears youthful clothes, and has an extravagant red silk scarf billowing under his chin. His gaze follows a small group of sailors passing his door; then he sees Redburn. Harry slowly stands upright. Redburn nods a greeting, and Harry touches the brim of his cap with a sly half-grin. THE GREENLANDER comes out and slaps Redburn’s back.

 

THE GREENLANDER

Disassemble, Pillgarlic. Disassemble!

 

Redburn ducks under The Greenlander’s arm. The Greenlander glances toward what Redburn had been looking at. Harry stiffens. The Greenlander slowly smiles at him lewdly, adjusts his trousers by the front of the crotch, then spits and goes into the tavern.

 

INT. TAPROOM

The CREW stand in the middle of the room, waiting. THE GREENLANDER pushes past REDBURN, and the men gather at the bar. Redburn’s eyes widen, glancing around. Plush red curtains are drawn across the front windows, while every inch of wall space is plastered with old shipping notices, one on top of the other. By the time Redburn inspects the bar, the BARMAN has placed pint tankards before each man. BLUNT waves him over, and Redburn arrives to find a half-pint glass of beer on the bar for him. Drinks in hand, everyone except the teenager lifts them in the air and glances to JACKSON.

 

JACKSON

To a safely sailed voyage.

 

CREW

Hear; hear!

 

Jackson drinks; the men follow his example. After they’ve all drained their tankards, plunked them on the bar, wiped mouths with sleeves, there is a slowly gathering look to Redburn. He reluctantly picks up the brown ale, holds it to his nose, then sips it gingerly. He lowers the glass with a sour face and squinting eyes. The men laugh, and Blunt slaps Redburn’s back, causing him to spill some beer on the counter.

 

INT. UPSTAIRS DINING ROOM – NIGHT – LATER

The CREW file in and takes seats at a large central table. REDBURN, last to come in, nearly gasps. The room has the same drawn curtains as downstairs, but the walls are neatly papered with hand-colored prints of ships; all in full sail and in sunny weather; the blue of all the tropical skies brightens the room. Above the table hangs a large model ship in full detail. From her hull, branches of brass arms come out to hold lit whale oil lamps. Redburn finds his seat close to the door, and sees the table is loaded with pots of mustard and horseradish, dishes of relishes, pickles, and cold cuts. Upside-down mugs are at each place setting. Tavern BOYS arrive with the feast. First in, to raucous APPLAUSE, HOOTS and table BANGS, is a lad with a platter overladen by a huge slab of roast beef. He goes to the head of the table and Jackson. Next in, a boy with a platter of cut squares of Yorkshire pudding, and a great sauceboat of gravy. Behind him, another carries bowls; one with steaming new potatoes topped by parsley, the other with spring peas and pearl onions. The food goes on the table, and the serving boys leave. As all quiet down, Jackson stands. He picks up the large knife and fork and slices a piece of roast beef. The first boy returns with large jugs of ale. CHEERS go ‘round the table.

 

INT. UPSTAIRS DINING ROOM – NIGHT – LATER

The meal is over. Empty bowls and platters litter the center of the table. The CREW drink and pats their bellies. BLUNT scans REDBURN’s plate, and speaks to DUTCHIE.

 

BLUNT

Well, he might not be able to drink with the least of us, but he can pack it away with the best of us.

 

REDBURN

Why does Lavender not join us?

 

DUTCHIE

When he goes ashore, it’s never with one of us.

 

BLUNT

Who knows where he goes, or whom he accosts!

 

REDBURN

What about Doctor Thompson?

 

DUTCHIE

He never spends his money on shore – nor at sea, for that matter. That old skinflint hoards every shilling for a rainy day.

 

BLUNT

And, when it does rains, he comes out of his cookhouse just to see if it ever really pours pennies from heaven.

 

THE GREENLANDER

He must have enough money secreted away in his pot sand and piggins to buy the Highlander and all her crew and cargo!

 

REDBURN

(amazed)

Doesn’t he want a change from salt pork

and hardtack?

 

DUTCHIE

As for want of change, remember, the Doctor and Lavender have ceaseless variety in the emptins from Riga’s sideboard.

 

INT. UPSTAIRS DINING ROOM

The table is cleared; the cloth removed. Trays with short candles, tobacco jars and pipes lay here and there. The CREW lean back and smoke. Some have hands behind their heads and inspect the ceiling; others have loosened trousers, and have lifted boots to rest on the table edge. DUTCHIE becomes animated. He rises and fetches something from near the window. Pulling up his squeezebox, he speaks to the men with excitement.

 

DUTCHIE

Boots off, boys! Clear the table. Now, do you hear! It’s time young Master Redburn shows he’s ready for the taproom.

 

Dutchie motions for THE GREENLANDER to lift the teen boy onto the table.

 

DUTCHIE (CONT’D)

Let’s see if he can dance to do the Highlander’s crew proud.

 

Dutchie plays a lively version of Bach’s jig in G major. ^[8] The men beat out the time on the table as Redburn dances freely. Soon the men HOOT and WHOOP in time with the music. Redburn’s face grows flush with exhilaration and pride. But from the head of the table, JACKSON’s hateful glare tries to sear into the lad.

 

EXT. STREET BEFORE “THE BALTIMORE CLIPPER” – NIGHT – LATER

The CREW file out and heads back to the ship. REDBURN is last. Once out the door, he looks to the doorframe Harry had been leaning against. It is empty. Dejectedly, he lowers his head and, as he does so, catches something in the doorway exactly opposite the tavern. HARRY is standing, backed against the doorframe, his hands behind him by his rear end; standing in front of the working boy is THE GREENLANDER. The sailor has his right hand on his hip, and the left extended possessively over the boy’s right shoulder to lean in close to the boy with the supporting aid of the doorframe. He is chatting in easy low tones, but Harry appears uneasy; suppressing a desire to glance at Redburn. In a moment, The Greenlander rights himself, drops his arm, and Harry tries to take a half-step out of the doorway. The Greenlander purposefully knocks his shoulder into Harry to block him. The Greenlander leaves first, and begins to stroll in the opposite direction from the ship. Two paces later, Harry turns to follow the man. He offers Redburn a shy and momentarily sad glance. Redburn watches Harry go up the street, in the wake of The Greenlander’s steps.

 

[Part 3 – II: Of Dockwall Denizens and Sewer-Squatters]

EXT. STREET ALONG THE DOCKWALL – MORNING

A summer day in Liverpool; REDBURN has shore leave and is anxious to go exploring. He strolls with a glowing report from his shoes and swings an old book in his hand; his father’s guidebook. But as he walks along the base of the wall, the number of beggars increases. They sit on the dirty cobblestones in motionless groupings, sunburned and with pock-scared faces. Their gnarred hands reach out to him and his clothes. As he moves along, they become packed together, sitting shoulder to shoulder, then two deep, then three deep. He begins to run, as if from a circle of Dante’s Hell.

 

EXT. WAREHOUSE STREET

REDBURN walks on an empty street. He glances in at open loading doors, sees bales of cotton and dusty air; no people. Suddenly he hears a faint, womanly CRY. He pauses. There is no one to be seen. He hears it again, and locates its source. He crosses to an iron sewer grate; squats and peers in. Slowly a WOMAN’s filthy face emerges from the gloom. Redburn starts. She thrusts out a shriveled hand, and Redburn recoils, right onto his backside.

 

WOMAN

Penny for the baby, sir.

 

Redburn scrambles backwards on hands and heels till he can rise and run.

 

[Part 3 – III: The Exchange and Parting]

EXT. BIRDSEYE VIEW OF “THE EXCHANGE” – LATE AFTERNOON

A slow descent from the summer sky surveys a stately Georgian building with central courtyard and arcade. From top to bottom: the lead roofs glint dully, while white statues of Regency-style-dressed females stand in the cornice balustrade; down the walls, reflective window glass separates full Corinthian columns; and below them, the arches of the arcade are banded with uninterrupted horizontal molding that circle the whole court. Men in top hats and business suits mill about the enclosed plaza. REDBURN stands below the main arch of the gate, guidebook in hand. He knocks his cap back in wonder. ^[9]

 

EXT. CENTRAL COURT OF “THE EXCHANGE”

From REDBURN’s perspective, the court is large and dominated by an off-center monument. He becomes aware that many MEN and YOUNG MEN are taking note of him. He shuts both mouth and book. He slips the book into the front skirt pocket of his coat, and proceeds into the light of the plaza. He veers right, and walks along the arcade. Here in the shade, he notices that many of the young men are well-dressed, and each appears decorated with a colorful flourish of some kind; a scarf, a colorful vest or shirt, etc. As they stake out columns of their own and eye the conservatively dressed businessmen, they make a strong, hands-in-pocket, contrast. Some of these teenage boys seem to accent the quality of their idle youth by leaning shoulder blades on the columns. Many have raised thighs on display, facilitated by a foot braced on the column behind them, and a rakishly bent knee out in front. As he walks, Redburn notices the small groups of businessmen seem unaware of the boys around them, and talk ‘cotton futures,’ but occasionally, after concluding business with a handshake, one of these men steps up to a youth. Then, after an impossibly short exchange, the man heads for the gate. The boy invariably waits a few moments, then follows the him out to the street. Something draws his attention across the yard. Someone seems to be matching his pace in the opposite arcade. He continues walking but watches the figure. Redburn can’t see detail; just that the person is the same height and size as he is. Redburn walks straight into the chest of a MAN standing in front of him. Redburn jolts back and instantly removes his cap.

 

REDBURN

I am sorry, sir. I—

 

MAN

Pinks, eh?

 

REDBURN

Sir?

 

MAN

Your costume – hunting gear – properly known as ‘pinks.’

 

Redburn is desperately confused. His vision darts.

 

REDBURN

I…from my brother, sir.

 

MAN

Cunning smile. Oh, must be a strapping fine fellow, your ‘big brother.’ You a Yank? No one calls anyone ‘sir’ around here.

 

REDBURN

Aye…Yes, sir.

 

Redburn’s flickering sight only partially registers a figure running across the plaza towards him. The Man creeps into a wicked smile, and bends into the American’s ear.

 

MAN

What about it, Yank, feeling up to sorts?

 

REDBURN

(puzzled)

I feel fine, sir.

 

The figure darts into the arcade, and out-of-breath, HARRY BOLTON jams himself between man and boy.

 

HARRY

Leave off, guv’nor – he’s a sailor.

 

The man looks around, unwanting to draw any attention. Harry pulls Redburn into the sunlight. They stop by the monument and watch the man trail through the arcade and beneath the arch. Harry smiles warmly and scans Redburn frankly.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

I thought it was you. Don’t see many sailors out for a fox hunt.

 

Harry takes off his cap to match Redburn, who is momentarily lost in the youth’s lovely curly chestnut hair. He half melts in Harry’s big hazel eyes before recovering himself.

 

REDBURN

You…outside ‘The Baltimore Clipper’ – what are you doing here?

 

Harry smiles broadly; a hand goes to the back of his head.

 

HARRY

Like you – out for a stroll.

 

REDBURN

Oh.

(pause)

I wanted to speak to you last night…

 

HARRY

Mutual. I as well.

 

After another shy pause, Harry pops his cap back on, then lifts Redburn’s hat and carefully arranges it on his companion’s head. He links their arms and turns them towards the gate.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

Let’s go exploring.

 

They take two steps, and then Harry swings them around one hundred eighty degrees.

 

REDBURN

What is it?

 

Harry takes them to an unoccupied column. He places Redburn against it and stands in front of him so Harry’s back is to the court.

 

HARRY

Don’t look yet…but, there’s someone I do not wish to encounter. Do you see him? That man in mauve?

 

Redburn sees LORD LOVELY across the yard. He is maybe twenty-five, sports a stiff attitude and a tall walking stick. He is handsome and aristocratic.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

He’s an acquaintance of mine. A friend.

 

REDBURN

Why do you avoid this ‘friend?’

 

HARRY

He’s a London Chum.

(clearly lies)

He doesn’t know I’m in Liverpool – don’t know what he’s doing here himself – but it’s best we don’t reconnect until back in London.

 

Redburn inspects this singular dandy again; the man begins to move into the arcade opposite.

 

REDBURN

What is his name – is he royalty?

 

HARRY

(sham sigh)

Can’t say. We lads call him ‘Lord Lovely,’ for obvious reasons.

 

Harry darts a glance over his shoulder, sees Lord Lovely looking the other way, and garbs Redburn’s elbow.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

Come. Enough of ‘The Exchange.’ Let’s see the rest of Liverpool!

 

EXT. STREET IN FRONT OF “THE EXCHANGE”

PEOPLE rush about. REDBURN and HARRY emerge though the Exchange gate. Redburn looks at the sky and the approaching twilight. He stops.

 

REDBURN

I’d like to explore more with you, but I must report to my ship. It’s getting late.

 

HARRY

(comforting smile)

I’ll walk back with you.

 

To Redburn’s growing grin, Harry replies by linking their arms again. They head towards the docks.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

How old are you?

 

REDBURN

Nineteen.

 

HARRY

Same as me! Well, just turned Twenty. Where are you from?

 

REDBURN

The Hudson River Valley.

 

HARRY

(excited)

New York!

 

REDBURN

Near. Where do you come from?

 

HARRY

Sussex.

 

Redburn makes a puzzled face.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

Near London.

 

REDBURN

Why are you in Liverpool?

 

HARRY

I’ve shipped before, you know. I thought I might get back into it. As a lad, the orphanage placed me on an East Indiaman. Do you know what they call boys on long haul vessels? Guinea pigs!

(momentarily pained)

And, such was I.

 

They start along the dock wall, and now none of what bothered Redburn earlier seems to matter.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

Do you like shipping?

 

REDBURN

Yes – no.

(sighs)

It’s lonely. I have no experience and do not know who or what to trust. Sometimes, though, when I’m busy, when I do not need to ‘think,’ then I am very happy at sea – and not lonely in myself.

 

EXT. BULWARKS OF THE HIGHLANDER

REDBURN steps off the gangplank, and goes to look down on the dock. He is relieved HARRY is still standing there, hands in pockets, though he appears anxious, like he doesn’t want to be seen.

 

REDBURN

Are you still here?

 

HARRY

What will you do tomorrow?

 

REDBURN

Same as today.

 

HARRY

No. Come walk with me, through

the countryside!

 

Redburn smiles uncontrollably and leans over the bulwarks to get as close to Harry as he dare. Harry’s features lose all tension. He is warmed by just how open and genuine Redburn is.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

I’ll…

(choked)

I’ll be here early. So be ready!

 

Harry gathers steam as if to run. Redburn calls out with earnest.

 

REDBURN

Wait! I…I don’t know your name…

 

HARRY

Bolton, Harry Bolton. And you?

 

REDBURN

(pausing a moment)

Call me – Redburn.

 

Harry nods his head up to his new friend, then turns and jogs off like the boy he is. Redburn’s eyes follow, and smile in the dimming light.

 

[Part 3 – IV: Dappled Shakespeare]

EXT. COUNTRY LANE – MID-MORNING

Trees, thatched cottages and hedgerows are intermingled with open spaces blooming in July color; iris, hollyhock, wild rose, yarrow et al. Behind fences, fat sheep and cows graze, and in fields, PEOPLE bend to their farming tasks. REDBURN and HARRY stroll along; Harry with a green straw roving in his mouth. As they pass by homes, rosy-cheeked CHILDREN come up to them and talk hurriedly. They trail along a few steps and then run off to their own devices. Birds sing in the air, and bright splinters of sunlight hit the young men when they look up into the sky.

 

REDBURN

The air is sweet with the breath of buds and flowers. It’s so like home! It’s hard to believe this is really England.

 

Redburn laces his fingers behind his head.

 

REDBURN (CONT’D)

Now I know what English poets through the centuries meant by ‘greenwood’ and ‘green splendor.’ It – it ravishes me.

 

Harry laughs and sends an affectionate elbow to Redburn’s gut. Redburn’s hands come down and ride Harry’s shoulders.

 

REDBURN (CONT’D)

Think of it. This scene of soft air, one that fairly tingles with the green of the grass and the smell of the thatch –

I might be inhaling the very breath of Rosalind and Orlando.

 

Redburn runs out in front of Harry, and recites to him walking backwards.

 

REDBURN (CONT’D)

‘O Rosalind! These trees shall be my books,

And in their barks, my thoughts I’ll character.’

 

Harry smiles warmly; punches Redburn’s chest with playful sincerity.

 

EXT. HILLTOP OVERLOOK – NOON

The plate-glass sky is streamed with dreamy clouds. The view looks down on lanes, fields and homes. Wheat bends slowly in the summer breeze. REDBURN takes his eyes off the scene and turns around. An ancient oak crowns the hilltop. HARRY is taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. Redburn slaps his pockets and pulls out a few sea biscuits. He smiles, joins Harry and rips off his coat. They sit with backs against the trunk. Harry gives a sly look, then extracts a wine bottle from his jacket. They laugh; Harry pushes in the cork and takes a swig. Redburn exchanges the biscuits for the bottle and drinks himself.

 

EXT. HILLTOP OVERLOOK

The afternoon shadows are gaining length. The bottle is empty and overturned. REDBURN and HARRY lie, nearly touching, head to foot beneath the oak tree, hands behind their heads. Harry begins to sing.

 

HARRY

(SINGS)

“Under the greenwood tree,

He who loves to lie with me,

And who tunes his merry note

Sweeter than a sweet bird’s throat –

 

Come ye hither,

Come so hither ye –

Come ye hither,

Come and laze with me.”

 

Redburn slaps Harry thigh with the back of his hand. He sits up astounded.

 

REDBURN

Why didn’t you reveal you like Shakespeare as much as I do?

 

HARRY

(shrugs)

Some mystery is good….

 

REDBURN

That’s from the same play I quoted earlier.

 

HARRY

Amiens’ song to his love, Jacques.

 

REDBURN

From ‘As You Like it.’

 

HARRY

(wry grin)

I like it indeed; you, indeed.

 

Redburn lies back, but this time he rests his elbow and forearm on top of Harry’s knees and thighs.

 

REDBURN

How did you become so well-read. I mean—

 

HARRY

The orphanage taught me my A,B,Cs. But the rest is due to a patchwork sailor in the East Indiaman. He took me under his wing; read to me by the hour, at night; taught me, and taught me well. I knew I loved to learn under his watchful protection; learned about myself too. Learned about love, how it works.

 

Redburn’s hand slowly creeps across Harry. He slips it into Harry’s grip. Harry takes it and squeezes it warmly. Above them, leaves rustle; pom-pom clouds flattened on the bottom roll by. Harry and Redburn have sat up. Their hands have gone to behind each other’s waist. Birds light in and out of the tree, chirping. Redburn and Harry close eyes and lean into each other. Their lips touch with near disbelief, then, a moment later, they kiss with tender passion and kindred trust.

 

EXT. COUNTRY LANE – MID-AFTERNOON

REDBURN and HARRY stroll back to town; arm in arm, their jackets tossed over shoulders. They pass a small church with open doors. Next to it is an inn with a fenced yard. Here PEOPLE sit at tables eating, drinking and carousing. A newlywed COUPLE bend heads together. As the boys pass by with obvious interest, a jolly and pudgy-cheeked MAN comes to the fence.

 

MAN

Good day, lads!

 

REDBURN and HARRY

Good day.

 

MAN

Where to – Birmingham?

 

HARRY

No. Back to Liverpool.

 

MAN

From Liverpool, then?

 

REDBURN

I guess so.

 

HARRY

We’ve come to look at the countryside.

 

REDBURN

And mighty fine it is too.

 

MAN

Come and sit a spell, lads! Join us.

 

Redburn and Harry glance at each other a moment – each daring the other to laugh – they know they don’t fit in.

 

REDBURN

Thank you, but we must be on our way.

 

They move on. After they clear the inn, Redburn glances over his shoulder.

 

REDBURN (CONT’D)

Look at us. You stroll about with me, and I with you, in perfect abandonment. You don’t seem to mind the reckless cut of my shooting jacket. And you don’t care who might stare at so singular a couple.

 

Harry stops dead; he swallows and chokes on a racking sob.

 

HARRY

You don’t mind being seen with…me?

 

Redburn starts with open mouth. He misunderstands; thinks he’s hurt Harry.

 

REDBURN

No – that’s not what I mean. I…

 

Harry takes Redburn’s hand in some kind of amazement.

 

HARRY

I know.

(feeble smile)

I know.

 

They continue walking. After a long pause, Harry tries to ask.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

Do you think you might consider leaving your ship? Not go with them – stay here – with…me….

 

REDBURN

You mean, abandon ship? I don’t think I could ever do that…not go back to my family? I don’t…but, there is another way. You could ship with me. We’ll tempt all rough weather – together.

 

The tilting light slices itself though the green leaves as it falls on rooftops, on the backs and shoulders of Redburn and Harry stopped in the road, on the flowers and grass at their feet. They kiss and their heads slowly fall on each other’s shoulders. Birds SING.

 

[Part 3 – V: Kidnapped]

EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE HIGHLANDER – EARLY MORNING

Off her port bulwarks, Liverpool’s docks and church spires glisten in the damp morning air. BLUNT and THE GREENLANDER are chinking a section of deck where it meets the bulwarks. Father forward, REDBURN is coiling rope. HARRY bounds up the gangplank onto the deck. He pauses and looks for Redburn. Harry is in long trousers and a jacket. Under the jacket is a vibrant silk tartan vest. A starched scarf is tied into a stiff bow that sticks out beyond the lapels. His usual cap is replaced by a dapper and youthful sporting hat. As he walks past them, The Greenlander does not see Harry, but Blunt does. Blunt stands, knocks the brim of his cap back and gawks akimbo. ^[10]

 

BLUNT

(to The Greenlander)

Catch a sight of the Fancy Boy! ^[11]

 

THE GREENLANDER

Huh?

 

The Greenlander glances up in time to see Harry bounding up to Redburn. Redburn does not see Harry’s approach.

 

HARRY

Lad!

 

REDBURN

Harry! Why, you’re dressed debonair today—

 

Harry pulls Redburn in for a quiet conference.

 

HARRY

And so shall you be, my boy. Traveling clothes. I’m taking you to London. I’ll meet you at ‘The Exchange,’ then we’ll go by train. Hurry! Come as you are; I’ll bring a bag and dress you in my duds.

 

Harry gently pushes Redburn towards the forecastle. Redburn walks, then runs. As Harry turns to go to the gangplank, he walks into The Greenlander’s chest, and the man roughly grabs the boy’s arm.

 

THE GREENLANDER

Well, well – can’t enough of me,

eh, toffer? ^[12]

 

Harry jerks free, but his professional demeanor is on, so he responds by playing to the compliment just paid him. Harry edges around The Greenlander; a lively foot and lewd grin disarming the sailor.

 

HARRY

Sure guv’nor. And you’re a regular indorser, but this ain’t a festival night, so I’m not sportin’ right now.

We’ll get together and a make a real wedding night of it, eh? Soon. ^[13]

 

THE GREENLANDER

(grabs own crotch)

You like romance, eh, boy?

 

Harry bolts for, and then down, the gangplank. The Greenlander goes to the bulwarks. He watches the youth run along the dock and licks his lips.

 

INT. LIVERPOOL TRAIN DEPOT – MORNING

Smoke and steam waft over the heads of PEOPLE rushing about. A train of yellow and black carriages waits at a platform. Most the doors are closed and passengers lean out of windows talking to well-wishers. HARRY pulls REDBURN along looking for an open door. Redburn carries a bag over his shoulder and is dressed as a near twin to Harry; but wears his old cap. LORD LOVELY walks unconcernedly towards them. Redburn points. ^[14]

 

REDBURN

Wait! Isn’t that ‘Lord Lovely?’

 

HARRY

(not stopping)

Oh. Really?

 

Harry finds a coach, and bundles Redburn inside.

 

INT. TRAIN COMPARTMENT

HARRY follows REDBURN and slams the door shut. In a moment the whistle BLOWS, and the train lurches forward. Harry smiles in exhilaration.

 

REDBURN

What manner of friendship do you have

with him?

 

HARRY

(chuckles)

A strained one, Redburn – strained.

 

EXT. LONDON, A WEST END STREET – NIGHT

A cab rolls through a cobblestone street of mansions. Gaslights are lit, but there are no people or other traffic about.

 

INT. CAB

HARRY half hangs out the open window, carefully eying the passing houses. REDBURN strains to see anything outside the window on his side.

 

HARRY

Here, driver! Here!

 

EXT. SIDEWALK BEFORE A GAY GENTLEMEN’S CLUB

The cab pulls away, revealing HARRY and REDBURN standing before the steps of a large building. Redburn scans the somewhat plain-looking structure. The most unusual feature is a large lantern arched over the steps by an iron trellis. The other houses have white lights by their doors, but this lantern burns a decidedly lavender color.

 

REDBURN

It all seems so beyond the real. Is this London?

 

Harry goes up the steps like he owns them.

 

HARRY

Come along, Master Redburn.

 

When the American gets to the top, Harry puts his arm around Redburn.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

Now, when we get inside, act posh. I’m going to act posh, so don’t be surprised. But if you cannot manage it, it’s better you just keep quiet. I didn’t kidnap you to make a fool out of myself.

 

Harry winks.

 

[Part 3 – VI: A Night of Mystery]

INT. CLUB’S HALLWAY – NIGHT

As REDBURN and HARRY approach, liveried FOOTMEN open the doors in silent unison from the inside. They are young and handsome. From the guest’s eyes, the hall is a magic arbor. Marble floors and wainscot end in smooth plaster walls that concave up into a flat ceiling. The plaster is completely covered in trompe l’oeil. The walls are painted as arbor columns and lattice panels; the ceiling, a lattice arbor roof – and both are interwoven with leaves and vines in full fruit with purple grapes. A verdant landscape and blue sky are in the background. There are three gasoliers suspended from the ceiling, spaced evenly down the hall with branching and lit arms. Their center posts drop from polychrome plaster roundels that seamlessly form vine branches out of the ceiling painting. Shading the lights are purple crystal grape clusters. Redburn gasps; there is nothing about the outside of this building to give a hint of its interior luxury. ^[15]

 

INT. RECEPTION

At the end of the hall, an open space forms. Here a desk houses a standing MAN, but REDBURN’s attention immediately goes to the huge painting behind the desk. An eight-foot-tall Guido-like Apollo wears rays of sunlight behind his head, and nothing else but a lyre, and a slip of strategically placed red cloth. As they get to the open space, the Man raises arms in warm welcome to HARRY.

 

HARRY

(low to Redburn)

Wait here a moment.

 

Harry steps up to the man, and Redburn turns a slow circuit of wonder. The space he is in is a buffer area. To the right and left are matching large openings to salons that stretch back to the street. The lintels are supported by heroic-scale telamons; youths, facing each other with raised hands and bent elbows, wearing only a mini-slip of fur to cover the front. On their heads are massive wreaths of grain and flowers. These four titans are painted to look like highly honed and polished gray granite. The walls of the salon to the right are hung with crimson silk, and the upholstery matches. Groups of ornate soft seating are peopled with well-dressed MEN and YOUTH engaged in spirited conversation. The furniture supports positively writhe in carved forms of classical men, like the Laocoön Group. The salon to the left is appointed in green silk. Here mahogany pedestal tables are laid for dinner of small groups. More men and young men sit, eat, smoke and converse. Harry touches Redburn’s elbow and leads him into the dining salon. ^[16]

 

INT. DINING SALON

REDBURN and HARRY sit at a table. Harry looks around, and speaks to a WAITER.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

Malmsey.

 

REDBURN

(whispers)

What do you call this place?

 

HARRY

(whispers back)

You don’t have to whisper. It’s safe here.

 

Harry leans back; speaks in his regular voice.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

This is ‘The Club’ – very exclusive.

 

REDBURN

Beats ‘The Baltimore Clipper.’ But how can you afford—

 

HARRY

Friends, Redburn. Friends.

 

REDBURN

Like, Lord Lovely….

 

HARRY

Like Lord Lovely!

 

The waiter arrives with a silver tray. He sets it down, and his gloved hand reaches for the stopper. Harry waves him away, and pours two glasses himself. He hands one to Redburn, raises the other, and drains it. He refills it while Redburn takes a sip. On the second glass, he offers a toast.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

To – To the mysteries of adventure; and romance.

 

After drinking half, Harry sets his glass down. While his is topping off Redburn’s wine, he seems distracted by something in the hallway. He stands.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

Remain where you are. I must withdraw

for a moment.

 

As Redburn opens his mouth to speak, Harry strides confidently back to the Man behind the desk. Harry exchanges a few words, gesturing towards Redburn, and the Man looks disconcerted. However, the man slowly nods, then bows and extends a ‘right this way’ arm. They disappear though a nondescript door at the side of Apollo. Suddenly Redburn feels very out of place. He glances about the room, then sinks into his chair. He takes the wine glass and sips some more, feeling eyes upon him; curious eyes. Now he notices this camouflaged door is quite busy. Couples go from the salon through this door, and other groups emerge from it to stand a moment in the hallway – the men heading for the front door, the young men back to the lounge. Harry reappears, seeming flushed.

 

HARRY

Come along, young Master Redburn. Our chamber is ready.

 

REDBURN

(rises)

Are you all right?

 

HARRY

(false laugh)

Of course! Come along.

 

INT. RECEPTION

HARRY pushes the side door open and walks through it. REDBURN follows and stops again in wonder.

 

INT. STAIR HALL

A large square room, with a wide staircase hugging three walls, rises to a columned second story with concaved skylight above. A massive and gaily lit gasolier with thousands of crystal prisms hangs from the center of the skylight. As HARRY starts up, REDBURN sees the steps are marble with a Turkish carpet runner. The newel is a worked bronze plinth topped with a gilded bronze sculpture. He looks at it closely: like the Three Graces, three youths interlock arms with a shared garland of fruit and flowers draping between their hard naked bodies. Yellow silk lines the walls and is bordered with heavy embroidery of laurel leaf ropes in gold thread. Two enormous framed copies of classical frescoes – both from Herculaneum – dominate the walls. As Redburn climbs, he cannot take his eyes off the vibrant color and riot of images of the first one: ‘Hercules and Telephus,’ and especially the spiritually transcendental face of Arcadia. Her repose – the abundance of the fruit in a basket by her side and of the wreath crowning her head, and the impishly sly grin of the baby Pan behind her – intrigues him. From her, his eyes trail to Telephus being suckled by a doe, then up to the strong profile of Hercules. Redburn passes eye level with Hercules’ gloriously bronzed, and demi-divine backside, making the boy brush. Moving on, he pans the second painting: ‘Chiron and Achilles,’ from the tender and fatherly face of the centaur, down his powerful arm to the face of the doting youth in his embrace. He lingers on the boy’s soft features, then trails the S-curve of his torso to the lyre in his hand. ^[17]

 

INT. TOP LANDING AND HALL

In front of REDBURN is a dim hall leading back to the front of the building. He peers and sees HARRY moving down it, so he follows. From Harry’s POV, he looks back to see the stair-hall gasolier glows like a halo around Redburn’s head. When he gets to the end of the hall, Harry lightly pushes on a pair of rosewood doors. They glide open, blinding Redburn for a moment. As he shields his eyes, he can make out a chamber fronting the entire width of the street.

 

INT. SUITE

On the far wall in front of REDBURN is a marble bracket. On top of this is a classical bust of Antinoüs, the lovely youth with his right shoulder raised and his eyes cast downwards to his left. On the walls, a dark blue French paper provides richness. This paper is bordered with wide and narrow stripes of flocked velvet in tones of snuff color. ^[18] As Redburn enters the room, he wobbles on the thick French carpet, and sees this part of the room is a sort of antechamber; to his left is a lintel with draperies, beyond which is tucked a bed tucked. It’s surrounded on three sides by snuff-colored silk floor-to-ceiling Vienna blinds. The right side is a sitting room with fireplace and soft seating like the salon downstairs. Between the windows on either side of the bust are paintings. One is of Alexander cradling his dying love, Hephaestion; the other, Hadrian holding the expiring form of Antinoüs. Redburn stands below the bust’s left side, and gazes into the youth’s eternally pained eyes. HARRY comes up behind him, intoning softly.

 

HARRY

Deaf. Mute, to all he’s seen. But, mind you, whisper no secrets into his stony ear, lest another hear.

 

Harry laughs and slaps Redburn’s back, then goes to close the door. Redburn looks at the seating area more closely. Above the mantel hangs a copy of Broc’s ‘Death of Hyacinthus.’ A pair of sofas are 90-degrees to the fireplace and a sofa table is pulled to one. On it is a tray with decanter and three glasses.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

They’ve drawn us a bath. I’ll go first.

 

Redburn turns to see Harry already stripped to his trousers and kicking off his shoes. Harry steps through a door at the side of the bed. Soon Redburn hears water SPLASHING, and Harry SIGHING.

 

REDBURN

(as if to himself)

They’re all tragic.

 

HARRY (O.S.)

What…?

 

Redburn goes to the foot of the bed.

 

REDBURN

They’re all tragic. Every picture here is of love destroyed by another’s jealousy; outright intolerance. Or hate.

  

INT. SUITE SEATING AREA – NIGHT – LATER

REDBURN, with just a towel on his head and another around his waist, sits on a sofa. He rubs his hair a moment, then lets the towel fall to his shoulders. He looks to find HARRY smiling at him. The working boy sits on the other sofa wearing only a towel around his waist. Two poured glasses of wine wait near him.

 

HARRY

Let’s drink

 

Harry rises and picks up the glasses. He walks one over and puts it in the American’s hand.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

To love – tragic or otherwise.

 

They clink. Harry drains his glass; Redburn sips. Harry pours himself another and sits next to his companion.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

Drink up. You can’t stay a lightweight forever.

 

Redburn casts dark forebodings on the floor. Harry scoots in so their thighs are touching their entire length. He puts a concerned arm around Redburn’s shoulders.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

What’s the matter, Redburn? You’re not afraid of me, are you?

 

REDBURN

No.

(perplexed)

No – I was just thinking what a dog’s life I lead in the stinking forecastle of the Highlander.

(sadly – holding his gaze)

What kind of life do you lead?

 

Harry swallows; makes no reply. Instead he guides Redburn’s glass to Redburn’s lips.

 

HARRY

Relax. This place is just an illusion, a short and pleasant diversion. A place for just us. Here, despite what they think and devise to keep us isolated on the outside, we can join each other and recognize a perfect union – heart to heart, or as Billy said – a marriage of true minds. These pictures are reminders that the way it has been, is not the way it has to be, despite the world’s threat hard upon our doors. Believe me, if we stick together, it’s the world that will change.

 

Redburn feels a drowsy warmth, mixed with a kindling of youthful love for Harry, sink into his bones with leaden insistence.

 

REDBURN

I believe in you.

 

HARRY

(sad)

Drink up.

 

Harry guides the bottom of the glass upwards, draining the contents beyond Redburn’s innocent lips. Redburn’s sight falters; lingers on the painting over the fireplace; a close up of Apollo’s lips in a near kiss on his dying love.

 

BEGIN ‘REDBURN DRUGGED; HARRY AT WORK’ SERIES OF SHOTS:

 

A) Redburn opens his eyes; is he being carried. He looks up into Harry’s face.

Redburn feels himself plopped on the bed. He looks up to the ceiling. Here the painting is a riff on Griepenkerl’s “Theft of Fire.” A vigilant Jove caresses Ganymede, who sleeps leaning on his chest and outstretched arm. Redburn sleeps.

C) Redburn opens his eyes; it is darker now. He feels the bed jostle in a regular rhythm. He turns and perceives Harry’s face close to his. Harry is breathing hard, arms tossed over his head, and his features are tormented in ecstatic pleasure. Something is hovering over the lad. Redburn struggles to focus on the moving image. It is a naked Lord Lovely; a determined look is on his handsome features. Harry’s hand goes up to the back of Lord Lovely’s head; they both cry out in some sort of muffled release. Redburn sleeps.

D) Redburn opens his eyes; Harry is sleeping with his head on Redburn’s chest; his arm thrown over him and holding his hand. The American looks to Jove and Ganymede above; their tender sleep. He picks up Harry’s hand and brings it to his lips while he has visions of the classical faces he has seen: the mystic Arcadia with her garland; the impish Pan; the sad Antinoüs kissed by a tear-stained Hadrian; Apollo passionately kissing Hyacinthus, and above him, a placid Ganymede asleep, forever protected by the king of the gods. Redburn gently brushes the soft curls from before Harry’s eyes. He kisses the boy’s forehead with a lingering pain. Harry rouses – they begin to kiss passionately; Harry’s hand goes beneath Redburn’s sheet.

 

END ‘REDBURN DRUGGED; HARRY AT WORK’ SERIES OF SHOTS.

 

[Part 3 – VII: Not a Word]

INT. SUITE BEDROOM – MORNING

Through REDBURN’s darkness, an insistent tone repeats something indistinct. Each time HARRY’s voice becomes a bit clearer, and finally Redburn opens his eyes.

 

HARRY

Redburn! Wake up.

 

As seen from above the bed, Redburn is naked, an arm tossed over his head, and the satin bed sheet, just a slip over his crotch. He looks like the Apollo downstairs. Redburn turns his head; the windows are open and the blinds are up and rustle softly. From outside, BIRDSONG and TRAFFIC wafts in from the street. He has disturbingly brief flashes of what went on last night: Harry’s face in ecstasy; the inward introspection of Arcadia; Harry and Redburn kissing; the sly grin of Pan. Harry is suddenly standing on the bed over him.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

Wake up. We have to catch our train.

 

Redburn sits. Harry is already wearing his shirt and trousers.

 

INT. SUITE SEATING AREA

REDBURN walks with the sheet held to his waist with one hand; the other is at his temple. His clothes are tossed on the sofa. He reaches for his drawers and slips them on. Then the sofa table distracts him. The three glasses have all been used. He knits his eyebrows a moment, picks up Harry’s glass and sniffs it. He sets it down and picks up the glass he used. He sniffs, and immediately pulls back, making a sour face.

 

INT. TRAIN COMPARTMENT – NOON

HARRY sits opposite REDBURN, who still has a hand to his head. The train rumbles through the countryside.

 

HARRY

(wry grin)

So, what did you think of London?

 

REDBURN

London? All I saw was Euston Station and the interior of a cab. And, and, ‘The Club.’

 

HARRY

I know. Better than any guidebook.

 

Redburn lolls his head back on the seat, closes his eyes and speaks as if from a dream.

 

REDBURN

What was that, Harry? It’s as if you ran through my soul – in and out, at every door I put up,

you burst it open, forcing me to unshutter everything to your vehement onrush.

 

Redburn raises his eyelids. Harry is staring out the window, and appears about ready to sob.

 

REDBURN (CONT’D)

What is it? What was that, Harry?

 

HARRY

(somewhat frantic)

Look…

 

Harry fishes a wad of pound notes from his inner jacket pocket. He flashes it before Redburn.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

Let’s run away. You pick where – I don’t –

I don’t—

 

REDBURN

Where did you get that?

 

Harry remembers Redburn’s reluctance to not go home again. He feels he’s made a mistake; shoves the money out of sight.

 

HARRY

I…I’ve made my mind to leave England.

 

Harry reaches and takes Redburn’s hand. He implores for Redburn’s trust.

 

HARRY (CONT’D)

What would you say about me shipping to New York, on your vessel – with you?

 

A hopeless grin of joy spreads across Redburn’s face.

 

REDBURN

Truly? You would do that?

 

HARRY

Yes. You could show me about America. I could meet your brother; your family.

 

REDBURN

Nothing would make me happier.

 

Harry sits back in the seat as an utter wave of despair washes over him. Redburn rises and sits next to Harry.

 

HARRY

I’m glad you will have me. But swear, swear an oath to me right now, you

will never speak of last night again. Not to me, not to anyone, even to someone who asks.

 

REDBURN

Who would ask?

 

HARRY

Just say you swear.

 

Redburn swallows hard.

 

REDBURN

Smoking; drinking; and now swearing. What would the Junior Temperance League think...?

Not to mention, my brother.

(serious)

Not another word. I swear it.

 

Harry hugs Redburn’s waist, looking much relieved.

 

[Part 3 – VIII: Shove off]

EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE HIGHLANDER – AFTERNOON

The FIRST MATE stands akimbo by the cabin. In front of him is REDBURN, cap wrenched in his hands. A few paces behind him, HARRY waits, bag over his shoulder. The young men are back in their regular clothes.

 

FIRST MATE

(to Redburn)

So, you’ve turned prodigal, eh? We flattered ourselves you had made a run of it – for good!

 

LAVENDER, wearing a turban, steps out of the cabin door to watch.

 

FIRST MATE (CONT’D)

(to Harry)

And what do you want, Pillgarlic? There’ll be no stealings on this here vessel—

 

REDBURN

He wants to sign up.

 

FIRST MATE

(incredulous – to Harry)

Any experience?

 

HARRY

Aye – on an East Indiaman.

 

FIRST MATE

A guinea pig, eh?

 

HARRY

(stands to attention)

Aye, aye!

 

The First Mate walks up to, then around Harry, looking him over. Finally, he slams a hand on Harry’s shoulder and roughly compels him towards the cabin door.

 

FIRST MATE

We’ll see about that.

 

As the First Mate and Harry disappear into the cabin, Redburn and Lavender exchange an awkward glance. Lavender burns with coldness towards him.

 

_