by Joel Coen
Danny sighs. He encourages:
DANNY
Yeah, you –
The principal’s tone is harder:
PRINCIPAL
B’ivrit.
This time his cold look holds until he is sure that the admonishment has registered.
He looks back down at the earpiece.
The door opens, ignored by the principal, and an old woman shuffles in with a teacup chattering on a saucer. She has thick eyeglasses. She wears thick flesh-colored support hose. She takes slow, short steps toward the desk. The principal continues studying the radio.
PRINCIPAL
Mneh …
The old woman’s gait makes for slow progress and a continuously rattling teacup. She bears on toward the principal. The tableau looks like a performance-art piece.
She reaches the desk and sets the teacup down. She summons a couple of phlegm-hawking rasps and turns.
She takes slow short steps toward the door.
The principal raises the earpiece experimentally toward his ear.
Close on his hairy, wrinkled ear as his trembling fingers bring in the earpiece. The fingers push and wobble and tamp the earpiece into place, hesitate, and then do some more pushing and wobbling and tamping.
The principal keeps Danny fixed with a stare as his hand hesitantly drops from his ear, ready to reach back up should the earpiece do anything tricky.
… mneh …
Satisfied that neither the student nor the earpiece are about to make any sudden moves, he looks down at the radio. He turns a dial.
Issuing faintly from the imperfectly lodged earpiece is the tinny jangle of rock and roll. The rabbi stares blankly, listening.
Danny waits.
The rabbi is expressionless, mouth slightly open, listening.
Tableau: anxious student, earplugged spiritual leader.
Muffled, from the outer office, the hawking of phlegm.
CLASSROOM
We are behind a man who writes equations on a chalkboard, shoulder at work and hand quickly waggling. Periodically he glances back, giving us a fleeting look at his face: it is Larry Gopnik.
LARRY
You following this? … Okay? … So … Heh-heh … This part is exciting …
Students watch, bored.
… So, okay. So. So if that’s that, then we can do this, right? Is that right? Isn’t that right? And that’s Schrödinger’s paradox, right? Is the cat dead or is the cat not dead? Okay?
BLEGEN HALL
Larry enters the physics department office. The department’s secretary wheels her castored chair away from her typing.
SECRETARY
Messages, Professor Gopnik.
He takes the three phone messages.
LARRY
Thank you, Natalie. Oh – Clive. Come in.
A waiting Korean graduate student rises from his outer-office chair.
LARRY’S OFFICE
Larry flips through the messages. Absently:
LARRY
… So, uh, what can I do for you?
The messages:
WHILE YOU WERE OUT Dick Dutton of Columbia Record Club
CALLED REGARDING: “Please call.”
WHILE YOU WERE OUT Sy Ableman
CALLED REGARDING: “Let’s talk.”
WHILE YOU WERE OUT Clive Park
CALLED REGARDING: “Unjust test results.”
He crumples the last one.
CLIVE
Uh, Dr. Gopnik, I believe the results of physics mid-term were unjust.
LARRY
Uh-huh, how so?
CLIVE
I received an unsatisfactory grade. In fact: F, the failing grade.
LARRY
Uh, yes. You failed the mid-term. That’s accurate.
CLIVE
Yes, but this is not just. I was unaware to be examined on the mathematics.
LARRY
Well – you can’t do physics without mathematics, really, can you?
CLIVE
If I receive failing grade I lose my scholarship, and feel shame. I understand the physics. I understand the dead cat.
LARRY
(surprised)
You understand the dead cat?
Clive nods gravely.
But … you … you can’t really understand the physics without understanding the math. The math tells how it really works. That’s the real thing; the stories I give you in class are just illustrative; they’re like, fables, say, to help give you a picture. An imperfect model. I mean – even I don’t understand the dead cat. The math is how it really works.
Clive shakes his head, dubious.
CLIVE
Very difficult … very difficult …
LARRY
Well, I … I’m sorry, but I … what do you propose?
CLIVE
Passing grade.
LARRY
No no, I –
CLIVE
Or perhaps I can take the mid-term again. Now I know it covers mathematics.
LARRY
Well, the other students wouldn’t like that, would they. If one student gets to retake the test till he gets a grade he likes.
Clive impassively considers this.
CLIVE
Secret test.
LARRY
No, I’m afraid –
CLIVE
Hush-hush.
LARRY
No, that’s just not workable. I’m afraid we’ll just have to bite the bullet on this thing, Clive, and –
CLIVE
Very troubling.
He rises.
… very troubling …
He goes to the door, shaking his head, and Larry watches his unexcused exit in surprise.
Larry stares at the open door. The secretary outside, her back to us, types on.
Larry looks stupidly around his own office, then shakes his head.
He picks up the phone message from Sy Ableman – “Let’s talk” – and dials. As he dials, his other hand wanders over the papers on his desktop.
There is a plain white envelope on the desk. Larry picks it up as the phone rings through. A ring is clipped short and a warm basso-baritone rumbles through the line:
PHONE VOICE
Sy Ableman.
LARRY
Hello, Sy, Larry Gopnik.
SY
(mournful)
Larry. How are you, my friend?
Larry picks idly at the envelope.
LARRY
Good, how’ve you been, Sy?
Inside the envelope: a thick sheaf of one-hundred-dollar bills.
SY
Oh fine. Shall we talk, Larry?
Larry reacts to the money.
LARRY
(into phone)
What?! Oh! Sorry! I, uh – call back!
He slams down the phone
… Clive!
He rushes out the door, through the secretarial area and into the hallway.
Empty.
He looks at the stuffed envelope he still holds.
He goes back to the departmental office. The secretary sits typing. She glances at him and, as she goes back to her typing:
SECRETARY
Sy Ableman just called. Said he got disconnected.
BATHROOM DOOR
A hand enters to knock.
MAN’S VOICE
Out in a minute!
Sarah, the sixteen-year-old girl who has just knocked, rolls her eyes.
SARAH
I gotta wash my hair! I’m going out tonight!
VOICE
Out in a minute!
SARAH
Jesus Christ!
She stomps down the hall.
KITCHEN
Judith, a woman of early middle age, is at the stove. Sarah enters.
SARAH
Why is Uncle Arthur always in the bathroom?
JUDITH
He has to drain his sebaceous cyst. You know that. Will you set the table?
SARAH
BUS
We are raking the exterior of an orange school bus as it rattles along. Hebrew characters on the side identify it – to some, anyway.
INSIDE
We are locked down on Danny as the bus rattles like an old crate, squeaking, grinding gears, belching exhaust. Danny and the children around him vibrate and pitch about without reaction, accustomed to it.
They raise their voices over the engine and the various stress noises in the chassis as well as a transistor radio somewhere that plays Jefferson Airplane.
DANNY
I had twenty bucks in it too. Inside the case.
RONNIE NUDELL
Twenty bucks! How come?
DANNY
I bought a lid from Mike Fagle. Couple weeks ago. I still owed him twenty.
RONNIE NUDELL
He already gave you the pot?
DANNY
Yeah, but a couple weeks ago my funding got cut off. Fagle said he’d pound the crap out of me if I didn’t pay up.
HOWARD ALTAR
What funding got cut off? Where do you get your money?
MARK SALLERSON
What happened?
RONNIE NUDELL
Rabbi Turchik took his radio. Had money in it.
MARK SALLERSON
That fucker!
DANNY
Yeah. I think he said he was confiscating it.
MARK SALLERSON
He’s a fucker! Where do you get your money?
RONNIE NUDELL
Mike Fagle’s gonna kick his ass. Last week he pounded the crap out of Seth Seddlemeyer.
MARK SALLERSON
He’s a fucker!
RONNIE NUDELL
Fagle? Or Seth Seddlemeyer?
MARK SALLERSON
They’re both fuckers!
BATHROOM DOOR
A hand enters to knock.
UNCLE ARTHUR’S VOICE
Out in a minute!
SARAH
Are you still in there?!
ARTHUR
I, uh … Just a minute!
SARAH
I’ve gotta wash my hair! I’m going out tonight, to The Hole!
ARTHUR
Okay! Out in a minute!
OUTSIDE
Larry pulls into the driveway and gets out of his car. The purr of a lawnmower. He looks.
His point-of-view: Mr. Brandt, the next-door neighbor, is mowing his lawn. He has a buzz cut and wears a white T-shirt.
Another noise competes with the lawnmower: rattling, squeaking, gear-grinding. The orange school bus with Hebrew lettering pulls up across the street. Danny emerges.
DINNER TABLE
Larry sits in. His wife and two children are already seated. There is one empty place. Larry projects:
LARRY
Arthur!
A muffled voice:
ARTHUR
Yeah!
LARRY
Dinner!
ARTHUR
Okay! Out in a minute!
LARRY
We should wait.
SARAH
Are you kidding!
They start eating.
LARRY
Mr. Brandt keeps mowing part of our lawn.
JUDITH
Does that matter?
LARRY
What?
JUDITH
Is it important?
Larry shrugs.
LARRY
It’s just odd.
JUDITH
Any news on your tenure?
LARRY
I think they’ll give me tenure.
JUDITH
You think.
LARRY
(equably)
Well, I don’t know. These things aren’t, you know …
JUDITH
No, I don’t know. Which is why I ask.
LARRY
Well –
SARAH
Mom, how long is Uncle Arthur staying with us?
JUDITH
Ask your father.
BACK YARD
Twilight.
Larry is stepping onto a hose as he unwheels it from the drum of a travelling sprinkler, laying out an arc to cover the back yard. Intermittent thwacks from next door.
Mr. Brandt and his son, who also has a buzz cut and wears a white T-shirt, throw a baseball back and forth. Mr. Brandt throws hard. The ball pops in the boy’s mitt.
MITCH
Ow.
Larry walks over to the boundary defined by the fresh mowing. He sights down it.
Mr. Brandt looks over his shoulder at Larry, looking. Mr. Brandt is expressionless. He goes back to throwing.
MITCH
Ow.
INSIDE
Evening. Lights on. Larry sits at the kitchen table, a briefcase open on the chair next to him. Blue books – examination booklets – are spread on the table in front of him. He reads, occasionally making marginal scribbles, grading.
From off, faint and dulled by intervening walls, rock music: somewhere in the house Danny is listening to Jefferson Airplane.
The clink of teaspoon against china as Larry stirs his tea.
Judith enters.
JUDITH
Honey.
LARRY
(absent)
Honey.
JUDITH
Did you talk to Sy?
LARRY
(still absent)
Sy? – Sy Ableman! – That’s right, he called, but I –
JUDITH
You didn’t talk to him.
LARRY
No, I –
JUDITH
You know the problems you and I have been having.
Sympathetic, but still absent:
LARRY
Mm.
JUDITH
Well, Sy and I have become very close.
This brings Larry’s head up. He focuses on Judith, puzzled. She elaborates:
… In short: I think it’s time to start talking about a divorce.
Larry stares at her. A long beat.
At length, trying to digest:
LARRY
… Sy Ableman!
JUDITH
This is not about Sy.
LARRY
You mentioned Sy!
JUDITH
Don’t twist my words. We –
LARRY
A divorce – what have I done! I haven’t done anything – What have I done!
JUDITH
Larry, don’t be a child. You haven’t “done” anything. I haven’t “done” anything.
LARRY
Yes! Yes! We haven’t done anything! And I – I’m probably about to get tenure!
JUDITH
Nevertheless, there have been problems. As you know.
LARRY
Well –
JUDITH
And things have changed. And then – Sy Ableman. Sy has come into my life. And now –
LARRY
Come into your – what does that mean?! You, you, you, you barely know him!
JUDITH
We’ve known the Ablemans for fifteen years.
LARRY
Yes, but you – you said we hadn’t done anything!
Judith suddenly is stony:
JUDITH
I haven’t done anything. This is not some flashy fling. This is not about woopsy-doopsy.
Larry stares at her.
LARRY
… Sy Ableman!
From down the hall, a knock on a door. A muffled voice:
ARTHUR
Out in a minute!
JUDITH
Look, I didn’t know any other way of breaking it to you. Except to tell you. And treat you like an adult. Is that so wrong?
Larry does not seem to be listening. His eyes roam the room as he thinks.
LARRY
Where do I sleep?
Judith narrows her eyes.
JUDITH
What?
Arthur’s on the couch!
JUDITH
Look. Sy feels that we should –
LARRY
Esther is barely cold!
JUDITH
Esther died three years ago. And it was a loveless marriage. Sy wants a Gett.
This derails the conversation. Larry stares, trying to pick up the thread.
LARRY
… A what?
JUDITH
A ritual divorce. He says it’s very important. Without a Gett I’m an Aguna.
LARRY
A what? What are you talking about?
She turns to go, peeved:
JUDITH
You always act so surprised.
As she leaves:
… I have begged you to see the rabbi.
FADE IN
Larry has fallen asleep at the kitchen table, face down in a pile of blue books. Cold blue light sweeps across him and he looks up.
A short, balding middle-aged man in flannel pyjamas and an old flannel dressing gown is in front of the open refrigerator holding an open jar of orange juice. He tips the jar back to drink, his free hand holding a balled-up towel to the back of his neck
Larry stares at him.
Fade out.
BLEGEN HALL
Larry enters the departmental office. His eyes are red-rimmed and dark-bagged. He has beard stubble.
The department’s secretary wheels her castored chair away from her typing.
SECRETARY
Messages, Professor Gopnik.
He takes the two phone messages.
HIS OFFICE
Larry looks at the messages:
WHILE YOU WERE OUT Dick Dutton of Columbia Record Club
CALLED REGARDING: “2nd attempt. Please call.”
WHILE YOU WERE OUT Sy Ableman
CALLED REGARDING: “Let’s have a good talk.”
