Authors: Joel Coen
A Serious Man (10 page)
LARRY
You knew about it?!
DANNY
Well, um …
ARTHUR
They must have finked me out. They knew I could just keep on winning, so a couple weeks ago they blackballed me, and now they’ve –
LARRY
What did you do with the money you won?
Silence. Arthur sneaks a look at Danny
.
Larry looks back and forth between them.
… What’s going on?
Arthur shrugs
.
ARTHUR
I
didn’t want it. Danny said he could use it –
SARAH
Unfair!
LARRY
What have you been –
ARTHUR
What’s unfair is these guys saying I can’t play in their card game!
SARAH
Why give
him
the money?! You know what he spends it on?
LARRY
(
knowing nod
)
I know about the records.
SARAH
Records
?! You think he buys
records
from Mike Fagle?
Movement in Danny’s body; Sarah recoils from a kick.
… Ow! Little brat!
LARRY
Hey! What’s going on!
DANNY
At least I’m not saving up for a nose job!
LARRY
What?!
SARAH
Brat!
LARRY
Nobody in this house is getting a nose job! You got that?!
DANNY
Ah!
Struck by a thought he leaps up and bolts from the room
.
LARRY
Danny! You weren’t excused! We’re still talking!
SARAH
What a brat.
LARRY
What was this card game, Arthur?
ARTHUR
Some goys run a private game.
We hear the TV going on in a bedroom and the theme from
F Troop.
… I think they’re Italians.
LARRY
Danny, what’s going on!
He rises
.
Larry enters to look down at Danny’s back. Beyond him
F Troop
flickers on the TV
.
LARRY
Danny! We’re sitting
shiva
!
Larry has his head down on his arms on Don’s desktop
.
DON
She’s retained Barney Silver at Tuchman, Marsh. This is a, uh – this is an aggressive firm, Larry.
LARRY
(
muffled
)
Uh-huh.
DON
These are not pleasant people. Judith is free of course to retain whoever she … I take it you don’t talk to her?
Larry raises his head, squinting
.
LARRY
It’s hard. I think she emptied our bank account. I tried to ask her about it, very civilly.
DON
Mm.
LARRY
She, uh …
DON
Yeah, yeah, you better open an account in your name only, put your paychecks in there from here on out. Till we know where we stand.
LARRY
Can I?
DON
Oh, absolutely!
LARRY
That’s not, um, dishonest?
DON
Oh, absolutely! You, uh –
LARRY
I hate to say this, but I think she’s also been sneaking cash out of my wallet.
DON
Oh boy. Well, yes, this is definitely, um, adversarial. The first thing we – are you all right?
Larry is shaking. His eyes are squeezed shut. His mouth is twisting
into strange shapes.
… Larry!
Now weeping sounds come out, despite Larry’s efforts to choke them
off.
… Larry! It’s okay! There’s no need for that!
Larry nods, trying to stopper his sobs, waving a hand in the air,
signalling that he is all right and will speak when able.
… Larry, we can get through this thing!
Minutes later
.
Larry sits panting but composed, a glass of water in front of him
.
After a long beat:
DON
Have you seen the rabbi?
Through his deep breaths:
LARRY
I talked to Nachtner.
DON
Was he helpful at all?
Larry gives a helpless shrug
.
Don rolls his eyes
.
DON
What – did he tell you about the goy’s teeth? You should talk to Marshak.
LARRY
They told me … Marshak … doesn’t do … pastoral work any more. He just – congratulates the bar mitzvah boy every week.
DON
That’s too bad. A very wise man, Marshak.
Larry sadly shakes his head
.
LARRY
Getting old.
DON
Very old.
LARRY
No, me.
DON
Larry, you’re fine. It’s a bump in the road.
Larry walks into the outer office clutching his briefcase. The secretary
is at her typewriter but holding the phone, one hand covering its
mouthpiece
.
SECRETARY
Dick Dutton. Columbia Record Club.
LARRY
Not now.
Larry has the phone to his ear. He listens for a beat
.
LARRY
Does he ever come to the phone? If I came in – How about at Rabbi Marshak’s convenience? Uh-huh … Uh-huh … Well, could I give you my number at the Jolly Roger?
We are close over Larry’s shoulder as he scribbles symbols onto the
chalkboard
.
LARRY
… and
that
means … so that … from which we derive …
His glances back toward the class show him to be wearier, baggier-
eyed, more haggard than ever. And there is something odd about his
posture
.
He makes his writing smaller and smaller so as to finish before hitting
the right edge of the chalkboard.
… and also … which lets us … and …
Wider as he finishes and straightens up, revealing that he has been
stooping to write across the very bottom of the board
.
The equation covers every inch of the classroom-wide three-panelled
chalkboard. Larry is an off-balance figure at the right edge of frame
.
Reverse on the class: staring
.
… Okay?
Larry claps chalk dust from his hands
.
… The Uncertainty Principle. It proves we can’t ever really know … what’s going on.
A bell sounds. The students shake off their stupor and rise. Larry
projects over the wallah:
… But even if you can’t figure anything out, you’ll still be responsible for it on the mid-term.
The students disperse to reveal one person still seated:
Sy Ableman
.
He wears a prayer shawl and yarmulka
.
Larry does not seem surprised to see him
.
… Did you follow that?
SY
Of coss. Except that I know what’s going on. How do you explain?
LARRY
Well, it might be that, in, you know, in
olam ha-ba
–
SY
Excuse me. Not the issue. In
this
world, Larry.
He nods at the chalkboard
.
… I’ll concede that it’s subtle. It’s clevva. But at the end of the day, is it convincing?
LARRY
Well – yes it’s convincing. It’s a proof. It’s mathematics.
SY
Excuse me, Larry. Mathematics. Is the art of the possible.
Larry’s brow furrows
.
LARRY
I don’t think so. The art of the possible, that’s … I can’t remember … something else …
SY
I’m a serious man, Larry.
LARRY
I know that. So if I’ve got it wrong, what do I –
Sy Ableman holds up one hand to silence him
.
SY
So simple, Larry. See Marshak.
LARRY
I
know
, I
want
to see Marshak! I
want
to see Marshak! They told me that –
ooph
!
Without our having seen him rise or cross the room, Sy Ableman has
arrived to body-slam Larry into the chalkboard. Now he grabs Larry
by the hair and whips his head against the equation. He slams Larry’s
head again and again, making the chalkboard chatter and the fringes
on his own tallis dance
.
SY
See Marshak! See Marshak! I fucked your wife, Larry! I seriously fucked her!
That’s
what’s going on! See Marshak!
Close on his eyes opening. His head is on a pillow. Dull early light.
A hissing sound
.
Larry looks blearily into the depth of the motel room
.
On the vanity table just outside the bathroom door sits Uncle Arthur’s
cyst evacuator, humming and hissing. Its waggling hose snakes through
the cracked-open door
.
On a doorpost
.
A hand enters to knock. A long beat. The person knocking gives up
and his footsteps start to go away just as the door opens to reveal an
attractive woman – the sunbathing neighbor, now wearing plaid shorts
and a white blouse
.
Reverse: Larry, frozen halfway down the stoop, head turned back up
toward the door
.
WOMAN
Mr. Gopnik.
LARRY
Oh. Hello, Mrs Samsky. I knocked, and then thought you weren’t here. I, uh …
Mrs. Samsky’s voice is soft and breathy:
MRS. SAMSKY
It just took me a second to get to the door. I was out back.
Larry stands nodding
.
He seems to need a prompt. Mrs. Samsky supplies one:
… Can I help you? Wanna come in?
LARRY
No, I –
She steps back
.
MRS. SAMSKY
It’s cooler.
LARRY
Oh. Okay. I just wanted to let you know …
The dimness inside the home Larry enters does indeed suggest coolness.
Larry looks around the living room. Wavering light sifts through closed
vertical blinds which drift and click over floor-vented air conditioning
.
Mrs. Samsky closes the door behind him, shutting out all sound from
the street
.
LARRY
I’ve noticed that Mr. Samsky isn’t around, and I –
MRS. SAMSKY
He travels.
LARRY
Uh-huh. Yeah, I never seem to see him, so I thought I should let you know, since you’re somewhat new here, if you ever have, whatever, chores that you’d, um, or just help with something – I’ve decided to help others – you know, in a neighborly way …
She gazes at him, waiting for the speech to dribble away to silence.
In the ensuing beat, quiet except for the clicking of the blinds, she is
perfectly still. Finally, only her mouth moves:
MRS. SAMSKY
How thoughtful.
Larry shrugs off the compliment:
LARRY
Oh it’s nothing. It’s just good to know your neighbors. And
to help. Help others. Although I don’t care much for my neighbors on the other side, I must say.
Mrs. Samsky lets more time elapse before responding
.
MRS. SAMSKY
Goys, aren’t they?
LARRY
Mm. Very much so. Maybe it’s not fair to judge; I have to admit I –
MRS. SAMSKY
Won’t you sit down?
LARRY
Oh! Um. Okay. Thank you.
MRS. SAMSKY
Iced tea? I have some.
She is already turning to the kitchen
.
LARRY
Okay.
He watches her and reacts to:
The backs of her thighs. The flesh retains the broad cross-hatch of her
lawn chair
.
She disappears into the kitchen, but projects:
MRS. SAMSKY
I don’t see you around much, either.
LARRY
Yes. Actually I haven’t been home a lot recently, I, uh, my wife and I are, uh, well, she’s got me staying at the Jolly Roger, the little motel there on –
Mrs. Samsky is re-entering with iced tea in two tall glasses beaded
with moisture. The click of the ice cubes joins the clicking of the blinds
.
MRS. SAMSKY
You’re in the doghouse, huh?
She hands him a glass and sits on the couch next to him, not invasively
close, one bare leg folded beneath her
.
LARRY
Yeah, that’s an understatement I guess, I – thank you – I, uh –
MRS. SAMSKY
Do you take advantage of the new freedoms?