THE VERDICT

THE VERDICT  

by David Mamet

INT. FIRST FUNERAL PARLOR - DAY

A working-class funeral in progress. THIRTY PEOPLE and an

inexpensive bier SEEN from the back of the hall.

ANGLE

A MAN's back FILLS the SCREEN. He is dressed in a black suit;

his hands are clasped behind him. ANOTHER MAN stands next to

him. The Second Man reaches behind the First Man's back and

puts a discreetly folded ten-dollar bill into his hands.

ANGLE

These Two Men from the front. Both somber, in their early

fifties. They begin to walk down the aisle of the funeral

parlor.

ANGLE

The WIDOW. A woman in her late fifties sitting by the bier

receiving condolences. The Two Men approach her. The First

Man (the recipient of the money) speaks:

FUNERAL DIRECTOR

Mrs. Dee, this is Frank Galvin --a

very good friend of ours, and a

very fine attorney.

GALVIN

It's a shame about your husband,

Mrs. Dee.

The Widow nods.

GALVIN

I knew him vaguely through the

Lodge. He was a wonderful man.

(shakes head in sympathy) It was

a crime what happened to him. A

crime. If there's anything that I

could do to help ...

GALVIN removes a business card from his jacket pocket and hands

it to her as if he were giving her money. (i.e., "Take it.

Really. I want you to have it ..." She takes the card. Beat.

GALVIN

(thoughtfully

realizes he is

usurping her time)

Well ...

He shakes her hand and moves on.

INT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY

Galvin sitting in the deserted coffee shop in his raincoat.

Reading a section of the paper. He picks up his teacup, drinks.

Lowers it to the table.

ANGLE - INSERT

Galvin twists tea bag around a spoon to extract last drops of

tea. His hand moves to his felt pen lying on the table. He

moves his hand to the paper, open at the obituary section. We

SEE several names crossed out. He circles one funeral listing.

ANGLE

Galvin sitting, raises cup of tea to his lips. Looks around

deserted coffee shop. Sighs.

INT. SECOND FUNERAL HOME AND STREET - AFTERNOON

Galvin outside a second funeral home. WORKING-CLASS PEOPLE

entering, Galvin enters the home.

ANGLE

Galvin, coming down the aisle toward the front, shrugging

himself out of his overcoat, he approaches the BEREAVED WIDOW

sitting by the front of the home, he extracts his card from

his pocket, starts to speak. He is stopped by the WIDOW'S

SON, a hefty man in his mid-forties, who interjects himself

between Galvin and the widow.

SON

(of the card)

What is that ...?

GALVIN

I ...

SON

What the hell is that ...

GALVIN

... I was a friend of your fa...

SON

You never knew my father.

(hits card out of

Galvin's hand)

You get out of here, who the hell

do you think you are ...

The FUNERAL MANAGER hurries down the aisle, and starts

extricating Galvin from the commotion.

GALVIN

(to Funeral Manager)

I'm talking to this man ...

FUNERAL MANAGER

Excuse me, Mrs. Cleary...

He is manhandling Galvin toward the back of the funeral parlor.

The Son calls after him:

SON

Who the hell do you think you are?

EXT. SECOND FUNERAL PARLOR - AFTERNOON

The Funeral Manager and Galvin standing in the cold.

FUNERAL MANAGER

I don't want you coming back here.

Ever. Do you understand?

GALVIN

I was just talking to...

FUNERAL MANAGER

Those are bereaved people in there.

The Funeral Manager gives Galvin a small shove, and goes back

to his post at the door, greeting the entering mourners. "Good

evening..."

ANGLE

Galvin, the ground cut out from under him. Standing watching

the mourners enter.

EXT. SECOND FUNERAL STREET - DUSK

Galvin walking down a residential street. He has been walking

a while in the cold, snowy night. He stops for a stoplight at

a corner, waits for the light although there is no traffic.

Lights a cigarette. The light changes. He looks both ways

and irresolutely starts across the street. He stops. He checks

his watch. He sighs, and starts back in the opposite direction.

INT. O'ROURKE'S BAR - NIGHT

Galvin holding forth at the bar of a seedy drinking-man's

establishment, THREE DRINKERS, acquaintances, standing around

him, appreciative.

GALVIN

Pat says, 'Mike ... there's a new

bar, you go in, for a half a buck

you get a beer, a free lunch, and

then take you in the back room and

they get you laid.'

The bartender, JIMMY, comes up to Galvin.

JIMMY

Another, Frank . . . ?

GALVIN

(gestures to include

group)

...everybody. Mike says, `Pat,

you mean to tell me for a buck you

get a free lunch and a beer, and

then you go in the back and get

laid?' `That's correct.' Mike

says, `Pat. Have you been in this

bar ?' Pat says, `No, but my sister

has ...' (gestures to Jimmy)

Everyone. Buy yourself one too.

INT. GALVIN'S OFFICE - NIGHT

The seedy, disorganized small office, Galvin in shirt-sleeves

opening a file cabinet. He takes out an armload of files,

carries them to a wastebasket and throws them in. He sits on

his desk, as if exhausted by his effort, pours from a whiskey

bottle into a large water glass, downs the glass. He has been

drinking for some time. He starts -- stumbling back to the

file cabinet. On the way his eye is caught by his degrees

hanging on the wall. He stumbles to them, picks them up and

walks over to the wastebasket and throws them in. He goes

back to the file cabinet, the phone starts ringing. Galvin

lets it ring, continues emptying the files into the wastebasket,

tearing some of them up as he does so. He repeats softly to

himself, as a litany, "It doesn't make a bit of difference, it

doesn't make a bit of difference ..." He starts back to the

desk for the bottle, knocks the still-ringing phone off the

desk. He pours himself a drink. As he downs it we hear --

softly -- from the phone on the floor: a MAN'S VOICE. "Frank.

Frank. Frank. Goddamnit. Are you there ...? Frank ..."

Galvin pays no attention. Drinks his drink and gazes at the

wall -- now empty of degrees.

ANGLE - P.O.V.

The empty wall. Galvin's P.O.V. The telephone heard Voice

Over insisting, "Frank ..."

INT. GALVIN'S OFFICE ANTEROOM - NIGHT

MICKEY MORRISSEY, a man in his late sixties, dressed in suit

and overcoat, looking worried, unlocks the door to the dark

anteroom. Looks around. Sees something in the next room.

ANGLE - P.O.V.

Galvin asleep on his couch, clothed as before. Covered in his

overcoat, the bottle and glass next to the couch on the floor,

the sound of the phone off the hook.

ANGLE

Mickey walks into the office. Stands looking at Galvin.

MICKEY

(harshly)

Get up.

(beat, more harshly)

Get up.

Galvin wakes up. Looks around. Swings his legs over the couch.

Drinks from the glass. Vacantly:

GALVIN

Hi, Mickey ...

MICKEY

What the hell do you think you're

doing ...? (surveys the wrecked

office) What's going on here ...?

GALVIN

Uh ...

MICKEY

Fuck you. I got a call today from

Sally Doneghy ...

GALVIN

... now who is that ...?

MICKEY

... You're 'sposed to be in court

in ten days and she's telling me

you haven't even met with them ...

GALVIN

Sally Doneghy, now who is that?

MICKEY

One lousy letter eighteen months

ago. . . .I try to throw a fuckin'

case your way ...

GALVIN

... hey, I don't need your charity

...

MICKEY

... I get these people to trust

you --they're coming here tomorrow

by the way --I get this expert

doctor to talk to you. I'm doing

all your fuckin' legwork -- and

it's eighteen months. You're

'sposed to be in court. I bet you

haven't even seen the file.

Galvin pours himself a drink.

GALVIN

Hey, what are you, my nanny?

Mickey walks to him, knocks the drink out of his hand and slaps

him several times in the face.

MICKEY

Listen to me. Listen to me

...listen to me, Frank, 'cause I'm

done fuckin' with you. I can't do

it any more. Look around you:

You think that you're going to

change? What's going to change

it? You think it's going to be

different next month? It's going

to be the same. And I have to

stop. This is it. I got you a

good case, it's a moneymaker. You

do it right and it will take care

of you. But I'm through. I'm

sorry, Frank, this is the end.

(beat) Life is too short, and I'm

too old. (Beat)