Blackbird

1. EXT. STREET – NIGHT

Italy. A side street in a city. It has just stopped raining. We are outside a jazz club, and the door is closed. Plants frame the entrance, their leaves still wet from the rain.

AL (V.O.)

I remember my teacher. She stroked the keys, barely grazed them. Her hands danced across the notes.

A man and a woman approach the club. The man opens the door, lets the woman through, then follows her. They make their way inside.

2. INT. JAZZ CLUB – NIGHT

Soft blue and purple lights set the mood. Every table is taken, by customers of every kind. Some eat, some listen, a few loners drink.

AL (65) sits at the piano in the middle of the room. The stage is all his. After a moment’s hesitation he starts to play Brad Mehldau’s version of Blackbird, improvising (NOTE: the same music plays throughout the short). The lights catch his white ponytail, a few wrinkles. His jacket is as black as his bow tie. He looks older than he is.

AL (V.O.)

I could never play with her. I can’t play with anyone.

The man and the woman from the start find a table, shown the way by a waiter.

AL (V.O.)

When you play with someone, you have to watch what they’re doing. Follow their pauses, their hands. I can barely look at mine… all wrinkles…

Al keeps playing. He takes a breath.

AL (V.O.)

Everyone keeps to their own shell, wrinkles and all. I’ve got mine.

The pianist’s feet fidget under the piano.

3. INT. LIVING ROOM, AL’S CHILDHOOD HOME – NIGHT

A flashback. We are in Al’s home. The pianist is ten, hiding under his mother’s piano, painted burgundy. A cloth half covers it and turns it into a kind of tent. Off screen, Al’s FATHER (45) shouts for him. His voice is very drunk, and just as angry and violent.

FATHER (O.S.)

(shouting)

Al! Come out!

The Father staggers on the other side of the piano. A huge, heavy man, just home after drinking all night. He wears a long coat stained with alcohol. He grips a belt in his hands.

FATHER

(shouting)

Al!

The Father looks at the piano, but seems paralysed by it. He doesn’t come any closer.

AL (V.O.)

That shell never let me down.

Inside his hiding place, Al hunches his shoulders. He hears his Father leave the room, still calling him.

AL (V.O.)

Unlike my father’s liver. Cirrhosis. Lucky me.

4. INT. JAZZ CLUB – NIGHT

Back to the present. Al is focused on his notes.

AL (V.O.)

My father was scared of pianos. When he was a boy he saw one with a blackbird perched on it… and then it started playing all by itself.

A woman sitting at the bar drinks a gin.

AL (V.O.)

He was drunk even then.

Al closes his eyes for a moment and nods along to the rhythm.

AL (V.O.)

That piano… that’s where I really learned about pauses… Pauses are everything…

5. INT. LIVING ROOM, AL’S HOME – NIGHT

Another flashback. This time we are in the living room of the house where Al lives as an adult. His mother’s burgundy piano stands at the side of the room.

A younger AL (45) is arguing with his teenage son, MARCO (17). Marco is clearly angry.

MARCO

(angry)

Get off my back! Go back to your fucking piano!

YOUNG AL

(angry)

That’s enough, Marco! Enough! I didn’t teach you to talk like that!

MARCO

(angry)

Jesus, you never taught me anything! What good is it now?

Al glares at him, furious. Then, as if he has remembered how his own father was, he takes a breath and says nothing.

MARCO

(angry)

Fuck you.

Marco grabs his jacket and leaves the house, slamming the door violently. Al stands frozen.

6. EXT. STREET OUTSIDE AL’S HOME – NIGHT

Marco reaches his bike, locked in front of the building. A blackbird perches on the bike, watching him. Marco shoos it away, takes the bike and rides off into the night. A car’s headlights light him up.

AL (V.O.)

Pauses give, and pauses take away.

7. INT. JAZZ CLUB – NIGHT

Back to the present. Al is focused on the keyboard. A moment’s hesitation, then he goes on.

AL (V.O.)

That’s what jazz is made of. Jazz can give you everything.

8. EXT. STREET OUTSIDE AL’S HOME – NIGHT

Flashback. We are back where we left Marco. The scene is still, frozen like a tableau. The boy lies lifeless in his father’s arms, on the ground. The bike is crumpled in a corner, next to a stopped car with its headlights still on. An ambulance stands nearby, beside a small crowd gathered around them.

A blackbird lands on the crumpled bike. Al looks at it, only for a moment.

AL (V.O.)

And take it all away.

9. INT. JAZZ CLUB – NIGHT

Back on Al’s eyes, in the present.

The mood around him turns surreal. A blackbird flies into the club and heads for the piano. No one seems to notice it except Al, who watches it land on the piano, speechless.

Then another pair of hands, Marco’s, rest on the piano beside Al’s. Al looks at them, moved. His son sits beside him, dressed as he was on the night of the accident. The stage belongs to the two of them. The customers go on drinking and eating as if nothing were happening.

MARCO

Hi, Dad. It’s good to see you.

AL

I don’t understand…

MARCO

I know, you’ve always played alone. But… you look tired. Really tired. Want to play together?

The customers drink. Al smiles.

AL

Tired… yeah, you’re right. Ready?

Marco smiles. Al gets into position, as if about to start playing. So does Marco. Neither of them begins.

AL

I wish I’d done better by you.

MARCO

You taught me the pauses. What’s better than that?

The two start playing together: the same piece Al was playing alone. The blackbird hops along the piano, watching the two pianists play. The room is still.

THE END