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THE PROFESSIONALS poster R
Stoner Comedy New Wave Drama

THE PROFESSIONALS

90 min

Love letter to LA wrapped as stoner comedy. As David Lynch said:

"I make movies cause I have a good taste in music and I want to share it."

All Work
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WORKING MAN

DAY 1 - ROBERT HAS A WRITING PROBLEM

**Working Man by RUSH**

North Beverly Hills home, big and old school. Three car garage in front.

Garage gate opens in the beat.

Porsche is driving out.

Intro titles on the views of Beverly Hills suburbs and boulevard. A lot of robotic stuff driving around. Homeless people driving their carts and just walking.

ROBERT SHELLY drives his Golden Porshe with one hand in Beverly Hills Suburbs. He is a Hollywood writer and director in his 40s. Wearing bluish bathrobe and yellow aviators. Losing hair just a bit.

Car POV. Hand drumming on the wheel.

Robert is in the middle of conversation with Quentin Tarantino on the speaker.

QUENTIN (V.O.)
I dunno man. From what you are describing, the movie sounds like shit.

ROBERT
You just don't get it.
You think it is too abstract?

QUENTIN (V.O.)
It's not too abstract, it's just
shit, man.

ROBERT
It's conceptual. It has the depth.
It gives you something to think about.

QUENTIN (V.O.)
It's fucking boring, Robert!
A movie should be fun, man!
Add some violence! Add some ass!
Give people something to feel!

ROBERT
You just can't appreciate
a conceptual film.

QUENTIN (V.O.)
Conceptual my ass, man.
I say what I think.
And what I think is it not gonna sell tickets man.

ROBERT
I don't care about the tickets, it is about the idea.

QUENTIN (V.O.)
Idea is not gonna fill your Royce, Bob.

ROBERT
My wife drives Royce. I have a Porsche.

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Test

EXT. CULVER CITY GOODWILL - PARKING LOT - EVENING

A 2005 Buick Le Sabre, dark metallic, on the plaza parking lot.

Almost empty plaza with Goodwill in the corner part of it. Next is 7-11 and some taco place.

Homeless man between the 7-11 and Goodwill laughing. We hear some tik-tok from his phone.

*7-11 door bell ring*

ALEX (26, mid length brown hair metalhead, skinny, resting bitch face) comes out of a 7-Eleven with a coffee cup.

Wearing Ray-Ban Wayfarer, wired apple earphones. Black t-shirt with "Deathspell Omega" written on it in gothic font, Paracletus album cover printed on it. Casio watch worn inside wrist.

HOMELESS
(shaking a cup)
Spare change?

Alex shakes his head in NO sign not stopping.

Buick beep.

Alex gets in.

He checks his phone, scrolling.

Drinking coffee.

Looks at the cup glove of his car that is closed.

Finished his coffee.

EXT PARKING LOT - CONT

Gets out again and walks toward the Goodwill. Holding couple of plastic bags with him.

Car alarm beep. Back light on Buick on and off.

Goodwill doors open and he is in.

INT. GOODWILL - CONTINUOUS

Almost empty store, the staff sleepwalking **(in beat with the music ? )**. Lamps, picture frames, a child's bicycle, books.

Alex is on the phone. Speaking Russian. Yellow english subtitles translate what was told.

ALEX
Privet. Snova ne rabotaet VPN? Plohoe kachestvo.

(Hello, VPN not working again? Quality is bad. )

MOM
Da, postoyanno otkluchaetsa.

(Yes, drops all the time)

Alex moves through the aisles.

ALEX
Kak papa?

(How's dad?)

MOM
Sidit doma, ne mozhet rabotat. Drony letayut. Skazali im nosite bronezhylety.

MOM (CONT)
Chto novogo u tebya?

(Sitting home, can't work. Drones are flying. They said to wear the bulletproof vests, best they can do. Whats with you?)

ALEX
Da nichego. Vse kak obichno. Rabota i dom. Pomenyal kolesa u mashini.

(Not much, as usual. Work and home. Changed the tires on my car.)

Scanning books for new arrivals.

MOM
Dorogo?

(Expensive?)

ALEX (CONT'D)
Normalno, okolo 500 baksov.

(Not much, $500)

He moves past a rack of cups. Camera cut in with static shot on THE MUG.

Past a shelf of dishes.

His eyes pass briefly over a display of shoes - women's heels, the shelf of assorted heels.

His gaze stops for just a moment.

He moves on.

MOM
Ladno, mne pora na rabotu. Lublu tebya.

(OK, i need to go to work. Love you. )

ALEX (CONT'D)
Okay, horoshego dnya mam. Lublu tebya toge, pape privet.

(OK, have a good day mum. Love you too, say hello to dad. )

He smiles faintly.

Ends the call.

Go to the music player in his phone and dial up volume.

End call

**APOCALYPSE IS BLASTING AGAIN**

Going over some shelves with clothes briefly.

Another look at heels from afar.

He stops.

From two shelves in front of him, THE MUG.

Ceramic mug, worn out. He is not sure about the logo, but it is familiar.

Alex comes closer.

He picks it up.

DOJ logo with an eagle.

Turns it over.

Another logo with the world map and **ICITAP** abbreviation.

Sets it down.

Look at it.

Picks it up again.

Beat.

Small, Private smile. Like a joke he's telling himself.

He puts it in his basket.

Back in the car

Alex sits in the Buick. Windows up.

Bag of clothes in Goodwill branding in the backseat.

He checks his mirrors. Checks the lot. Takes a small
pipe from the center console where the cups suppose to be and lights it.

Inhales.


Holds it.

Lets it out slowly.

Through windshield, Los Angeles goes about its
morning.

A woman loads bags into a minivan.

A dude rides an electric scooter along the curb.

Delivery bots can't figure out how to cruise near each other.

The LA sun.

Alex watches all of it and none of it.

He takes another hit.

Piano plays in the song.

His face in the window: the face of someone who has
gotten very good at being nowhere in particular.

Homeless man suddenly throwing his phone breaking. Screaming something, the sound of broken bottle.

Alex sits and watching him go.

Beat.

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APOCALYPSE
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La Conquistada
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THE ENDING
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