Sanguigno's! Written by Aidan Millroy & Langston Cabral Director/Writer Aidan Millroy Millroy.at@artist.uncsa.edu 412-352-6859 Writer Langston Cabral Cabral.l@artist.uncsa.edu 252-216-6278 Producer Gillian Skipper Skipper.gm@artist.uncsa.edu 843-758-8946 Producer Billy Costello Costello.t@artist.uncsa.edu 704-473-3319 Cinematographer John Curtis Curtis.jw@artist.uncsa.edu 615-600-6773 Draft #2 11/6/17 Editor Mathew Meredith Meredith.mj@artist.uncsa.edu 810-588-8902
INT. RESTAURANT DINING ROOM -- EVENING CLOSE-UP on a MAN (49). Suit. Tie. Bald Scalp. Methodically, he places a napkin in his shirt. Rearranges his fork and knife an inch away from the plate. Sets down his notepad. Clicks his pen. Scribbles a circle to test the ink. This is GLADSTONE. His ex-wife once referred to him as distant, chilly, and detached. He sits alone at a table for one, taking a sip from his white wine (imported from Italy circa 1963), listening to the hammy Classical Music playing over the speakers. (23), a greasy redhead with braces, walks from Malcolm s table to the... INT. KITCHEN -- CONTINUOUS The doors swing open to Mr. SANGUINGO (42, an Andy Garcia type) standing next to the door with his arms crossed. He brushes his toupee out of his eyes. So... What d he want? Carl stops, hands on his hips, shaking his head. (sighs) I don t know. Said it s up to the chef. Mr. Sanguigno rubs his chin, contemplating. Andy! He turns towards CHEF ANDY (38). Chef s Hat. White Apron. African-American. He mixes a SMOKY pot of CHILI. Yeah? ANDY Andy hesitates. Get Mr. Gladstone the family recipe.
2. ANDY You sure about that? I thought you said --- Hands on his hips, eyes shifting from floor to Carl to Andy, Mr. Sanguigno starts his rant: Nevermind what I said Andy. We can t afford to take any chances tonight, especially with someone like Mr. Gladstone determining the fate of not only this establishment but our very lives, gentlemen. (sighs) No screw-ups. No mistakes. No halfassed attempts at... at... at whatever. I m talking Ritz and Hilton kinda shit. If we don t get the approval of Mr. Gladstone out there, we re over. We re nothing. We re just like any-other startup that failed and died. (pause) Do you guys understand what I m trying to say here? Andy sticks a toothpick in his mouth, mixing the spaghetti sauce... Yeah, I think so. ANDY Don t worry about it Sanguigno. (beat) We gotcha you man. He throws a couple of meat slices into the sauce. We MOVE slowly into the sauce, deeper and deeper, as the swirls get thicker and thicker and thicker... INT. RESTAURANT DINING ROOM -- CONTINUOUS A plate is placed down on the table. In front of him sits SPAGHETTI. Little bit of Rosemary. Garlic. Some Kale to spice things up. Simple enough. However, there s a lot of MEAT sauce on these noodles. Lumps and lumps of meat along with a MEATBALL.
3. Anything else I can get you Mr. Gladstone? He scribbles some notes onto his pad, refusing any sort of eye contact. Nope, that ll be all. Thank You. Carl does a little bow before scurrying off. Everyone watches from the kitchen in anticipation. He picks up his fork and hovers it above the meal, choosing his best spot of entry. He chooses it, and twirls some pasta around the fork. Mr. Sanguigno is so red in the face he could be constipated. Our hero raises the food to his mouth and takes a bite. At first, he seems disgusted. Almost repulsed. But with each chew, he begins to understand it. The complexities, the mysteries, the pleasure of it all. He swallows. He ponders. It looks like Mr. Sanguigno can t take it anymore and... Malcolm nods, wipes his mouth and puts his fork down. He looks towards Mr. Sanguigno. Mr. Sanguigno looks back, eagerly awaiting his response. And for the first time in years, Malcolm nods in approval and smiles. The kitchen all cheer in unison, jumping up and down, giving each-other hugs. Malcolm goes ahead and takes another bite before signalling with his hand towards Sanguigno. (CONT D) (dramatically, slowly) Mr. Sanguigno! Sanguigno slowly goes through the DOORS and shuffles over to Malcolm. (nervously) Yes, sir?
4. Malcolm wipes his face with a napkin, clears his throat, and turns to address our boy. This uh, dish is excellent... Thanks Mr... (CONT'D) What did you do to it? I know it s veal in marina but --- Yes, yeah, well thank you, sir. Um, well to be honest with ya, the meat is only the finest of ingredients and uh... (suddenly serious, leaning in) If I told ya, I d have to kill you. A moment of silence between the two. Awkward Pause. Then, they both begin to laugh. SMASH CUT: ON BLACK FRIGHTENING FONT (accompanied by an ominous GONG): THREE MONTHS LATER. INT. RESTAURANT -- EVENING The place is packed. Adults. Grandparents. Kids. Everyone from all over the world are packed into this tiny restaurant. Walking in through the FRONT DOORS, in his usual attire, stands. WAIT FOR WAITER sign is held up. Next to it sits an even bigger sign: NEW MENU! Next to several MEAT options (our Award-Winning Ribeye, Fried Chicken, etc.) Lays the line: Try our new vegetarian options! As he stares at the sign, a ginger hand taps him on the shoulder. (O.S.) Mr. Gladstone? Malcolm turns around to face the still-brace wearing Carl.
5. Yes? Hi, you probably don t remember me but I was here back when you reviewed the place, um... I served you now what s the trademark order here. (superficial) Oh... OK. Carl gestures to the back, ignoring everything that s just been said. I ll take you to Mr. Sanguigno s office. He s running a couple of minutes late but I can take you to his office. The two make their way through the excitement of the restaurant; A GRAND-DAD (78) blows out candles for his BIRTHDAY. A MAN (34) cuts a tiny strip of STEAK and feeds it to his BABY. A WAITRESS hands over dish after dish of meats to the customers. OWEN (11) drops a ball and runs to pick it up. It lands right in front of Malcolm. He smiles and kicks it under a table as Owen looks on in disgust. They go through the kitchen, more HUSTLE and BUSTLE. Andy chops a couple of vegetables, offering a brief nod in Malcolm s direction. (CONT D) You know, Mr. Sangugino s been wanting to do this for awhile. Yeah? Yeah, he does it for just about anyone who s supported his business one way or another. Just a show of appreciation, ya know.
6. (under his breath) Well I ll give him my thanks. Finally, they arrive at Mr. Sangugino s office. Carl leans towards Malcolm. Carl knocks. Hundred Bucks says he s not here. (CONT D) Mr. Sanguigno... (knocks again) Mr. Sanguigno, it s Carl. I got Mr. Gladstone with me. They wait for a couple of seconds until Carl looks towards Malcolm, shaking his head. Carl opens the door... INT. S OFFICE To a typical office with no Mr. Sanguigno. Told ya. If you just want to wait in here till he comes back... Yeah, sure. Malcolm sits down in the chair opposite the desk. Carl closes the door. Malcolm fidgets while listening to the kitchen ambience. He looks at the various items hanging around the office. Paperwork scattered across the desk, computer monitor showcasing his family, Culinary School Degree hanging on the wall. We LINGER. Suddenly, something pops. The lights dim then come back on again. Malcolm looks around the room when the SCRAP of machinery hits the wall. Malcolm stands up suddenly and --
7. INT. KITCHEN -- CONTINUOUS Malcolm pokes his head out the office to see all the commotion. Cooks are running up and down as the lights turn back on. Andy walks past Malcolm quickly down the hall. Andy hits buttons on the lock before the door swings open. He closes it, leaving it slightly ajar. Malcolm stops before hearing another EAR-PIERCING sound come from the room. He almost jolts right out of his pants. He looks around, hesitating before following him in. The door reads: UPPERSTAFF ACCESS ONLY. He opens the door, creeping in --- INT. MEAT LOCKER To, Mr. Sangugino s and ANDY all staring into the abyss of the MEAT GRINDER. A foot with a HELLO KITTY sock sticks out. Instantly, all three heads turn to. He s shell-shocked. He can t move. He sees a pool of blood next to the machine. Meat still being GRINDED. Awkward silence hovers between the two. Then he bolts. He makes his way through the kitchen doors, through men carrying pots and pans, as ANDY chases after him --- INT. RESTAURANT -- EVENING Malcolm trips and falls face-flat on the ground. Completely disoriented, he pulls himself up to the dining room full of joyful guests; A Kid (12) forces a gigantic MEATBALL into his mouth. A young couple feed each-other chili, arms intertwined (Hipster couple). An elderly man wipes sauce off his cheek before going in on his meatloaf. Malcolm watches the horror unfold in front of his eyes. (announcing) EVERYBODY! STOP EATING THE FO- Andy s greasy hand engulfs his mouth and drags him back into the kitchen.
8. The kitchen doors swing back and forth, like a saloon. With each consecutive swing, we see Malcolm struggling to break free as he s dragged further and further away from the scene. WE LINGER for several seconds, as the doors swings slower and slower all we can hear is the shuffle of the kitchen, laughter of families and classical music blaring from the speakers. We PULL BACK to reveal OWEN, watching the door, eyes wide open. His MOTHER (28) walks by, takes Owen by the hand and starts leading him away, eyes still fixated on the door. MOTHER OWEN! I told you not to leave the table. Come on, your food is getting cold. The patrons continue to eat their food as Owen gets lead away. THE END.
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