Here's an excerpt from my feature film script "Bordertown," in which Pocho, a private eye hired to investigate a Mexcian politician's adultery, winds up witnessing an assassination.
FADE IN
EXT - THE AMERICAN SOUTHWEST - DAY
Just north of the U.S.-Mexican border, wind whips through a desert town, bending the post of a bilingual sign reading:Welcome to La Frontera, Bievenidos a La Frontera. The wind rises and begins to WAIL, kicking dust against an office sign reading
ocho Martinez, Private Investigator.
INT. POCHOS OFFICE
MRS. DIAZ, a busty Mexican woman in a low-cut dress, sits across a desk from POCHO, a burly middle-aged man in a wrestling mask and business suit. Beside Pocho sits JON BLOOM, a slump-shouldered young man in rumpled slacks and a sport coat.
MRS. DIAZ
I cant believe Im really here, talking to Pocho, my favorite luchador. I always defend you when people say youre nothing but a low-rent Santo.
Irritated that his prospective client mentioned Santo, the infinitely more famous luchador and crime fighter, Pocho abruptly changes the subject.
POCHO
Gracias, Seora Diaz, but, as you know, Im no longer a wrestler. Im a private detective now.
MRS. DIAZ
I know, but its because youre my hero that I traveled up here from Sonora just to see you.
POCHO
I appreciate that, Seora Diaz. But maybe now you could tell me why you came to see me today.
MRS. DIAZ
Couldnt we speak in private?
POCHO
Come now. You can speak in front of my operative. I assure you, anything you say in front of Seor Bloom will be kept in the strictest confidence.
MRS. DIAZ
Well, its my husband. I believe hes having an affair.
POCHO
What is your husbands first name?
MRS. DIAZ
Miguel.
POCHO
Miguel Diaz, like the PRI candidate for governor?
MRS. DIAZ
Not like the PRI candidate. He is the PRI candidate.
POCHO
Surely you realize, Seora, that, if it gets out your husband is having an affair, it may jeopardize his election chances.
MRS. DIAZ
Even if it did get out, I doubt the scandal would be enough to put his candidacy in jeopardy. Need I remind you that the PRI candidate has won every election for the last seventy-one years? He will win--the PRI will make sure of that.
POCHO
I thank you for coming, Seora, but I dont want to get caught up in any PRI business.
Distraught, Mrs. Diaz rises to her feet.
MRS. DIAZ
Seor Pocho, por favor. You must take this case. This woman hes involved with--shes from the PRI and shes bad news. I dont know what my husband is mixed up in, but whats in jeopardy here is not just his political career--its his life!
POCHO
Very well, Ill have my secretary draw up my standard contract.
MRS. DIAZ
Gracias, Seor Pocho. Gracias. Youll get to the bottom of this--I know you will.
POCHO
Well see what we can do.
EXT. A MEXICAN TOWN PLAZA - DAY
A political rally is underway in this impoverished border town, and the plaza is noisy and crowded. On a platform, before a Mexican flag with Partido Revolucionario Institucional written across it, stands the imposing figure of Miguel Diaz. Behind him stand a striking LONG-HAIRED WOMAN and several members of the DFS, the secret political police, wearing plainclothes, but conspicuous because of their military haircuts. Diaz, in the suede windbreaker that is part of the PRI uniform, steps forward, as the woman wearing a campaign button on her lapel whispers last minute words of encouragement. Approaching the podium bearing the PRIs circular emblem, its colors matching the flags green, white and red, Diaz raises his arms, in a gesture to quiet the crowds exuberant CHEERS.
DIAZ
Look around you, mis amigos. Everywhere you see squalor where once there was splendor. Everywhere you see poverty where once there was wealth. Long before the Spanish came, the Culua-Mexica, the Aztecs as they were later called, built a great and wealthy empire here. I say to you, as I stand before you today as candidate for governor of Sonora, that, under the leadership of the Institutional Revolutionary Party, Mexico, successor to that once great and wealthy empire, will be great and wealthy once more!
The crowd erupts into APPLAUSE.
THE CROWD
More DFS agents mill about, casting angry glances at PROTESTORS, waving flags bearing the sun-yellow emblem of the PRIs opponent, the PRD.
THE SEATS
No one notices Pocho, though he is wearing his standard outfit: a luchador mask and business suit. Bored, he glances at the paper in his lap. Beneath the masthead saying La Frontera Gazette, English Language Newspaper, the headline reads: POLLS SHOW CHALLENGER MAKING A STRONG SHOWING AGAINST DIAZ. Beside him, sits Bloom, holding a camera at the ready for anything that might lead him to the other woman. He nudges Pocho.
BLOOM
Whats Diaz saying? That hes an Aztec? He sure doesnt look like an Indian to me.
POCHO
No, you are right. Hes different from most Mexicans. Hes not a Mestizo; hes a criollo, a person of pure Spanish blood.
BLOOM
I dont understand.
THE PODIUM
DIAZ
My opponent, Moctezuma Castillo, claims to speak for the Mexican people when he challenges the results of the last election. But he doesnt speak for you, but for the reactionaries in the Catholic Church and the Republicans in the United States. It is for them my opponent speaks--this traitor, this double-crosser, this... Malinchista!
The DFS LEADER, a distinguished-looking older man, raises a white-gloved hand in an apparent signal. Plainclothesmen and UNIFORMED POLICE descend on the PRD supporters and a scuffle ensues. Trying to fight off policemen as they seize her, a MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN cries out to nearby REPORTERS AND PRESS PHOTOGRAPHERS.
MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN
The police attacked us first!
THE SEATS
Pocho points to the middle-aged woman.
POCHO
Jon, get a picture of this.
Jon snaps the picture.
POCHO (contd)
And get a picture of the man with the white glove.
Jon snaps the DFS leaders picture.
THE CROWD
PRD supporters pick up rocks and pelt the police and DFS, as they haul the protestors away.
INT. DINER, LA FRONTERA - NIGHT
At a booth, across from each other, Santo and Bloom sip coffee, waiting for their dinner to be served.
BLOOM
What happened at the rally today? It seemed like all hell broke loose right after Diaz called Castillo--what was it?--a Malintista.
POCHO
Malinchista. Its a word thats thrown around a lot in Mexican politics. It comes from Malinche, Conquistador Hernn Corts translator and lover,considered by many to be a traitor to her fellow Indians since she aided the Spanish in their conquest of the Aztecs. In truth, she wasnt an Aztec, but the member of another tribe--an enemy of the Aztecs. And she didnt volunteer to help the Spanish. She was a concubine sold to them.
BLOOM
So she wasnt really a traitor, after all.
POCHO
Well, no. What Diaz was saying was not, strictly speaking, historically accurate. Nevertheless, Malinche is part of our great national myth. Mexico, before the Spanish conquest, was an Eden. Then came Malinche, the Mexican Eve whose treachery brought about our national downfall.
Just then, a pretty Mexican WAITRESS, comes, serving Bloom a hamburger, Pocho a burrito.
POCHO (contd)
Gracias, seorita.
BLOOM
So Diaz calling Castillo a Malinchista, a traitor, set the protestors off.
POCHO
No, I think it was all a setup. The police and the DFS, the plainclothesmen, attacked the PRD first and blamed the violence on them.
BLOOM
Come to think of it, there was that woman that cried out The police attacked us first. And there was the older man wearing the glove. You dont suppose that was a signal?
POCHO
Yes. I saw it before at Tlatelolco.
BLOOM
Tlatelolco?
POCHO
Yes, Tlatelolco plaza, 1968. This was before I started wrestling, back when I was a still in college. President Daz Ordaz wanted the student demonstrators out of Mexico City before the Olympics, lest they spoil Mexicos world image. When flares went off, some of my friends started to run. I cried out: Dont panic. Dont give the security forces any provocation. It was then that I saw the head DFS agent give the signal.
A RAISED WHITE-GLOVED HAND
POCHO
Then we were descended on by the plainclothes DFS agents, the police, and the army. Yes, even the army. They came at us on foot and with tanks. They shot us with machine-guns and stabbed us with bayonets.
RAISED BAYONETS
POCHO
When it was over dozens were dead, some say hundreds. The next day, I watched as they cleaned up the plaza.
TLATELOLCO
Soldiers load bloody bodies onto trucks. The DFS leader, supervising the cleanup, breaks into a self-satisfied smile. When the military trucks leave, fire trucks appear and firemen turn hoses on the street, washing away the blood.
MATCH CUT TO:
POCHOS COFFEE SPILLING ON THE TABLE
Pocho picks up his overturned cup. Suddenly furious, he slams a fist on the table.
POCHO
That was him--that DFS agent at the rally today. That older guy at the rally--the one wearing the gloves. That was the same hijo de la chingada who gave the signal at Tlatelolco.
The waitress wipes up the spill.
POCHO (contd)
(to the waitress)
Sorry.
WAITRESS
Dont worry about it. Can I bring either of you another cup of coffee?
POCHO
No thanks. Just the check.
The waitress walks away.
POCHO (contd)
We better get to bed early. Were going to another campaign rally tomorrow.
EXT. CAMPAIGN RALLY - DAY
It is another outdoor rally in another impoverished border town. The crowd is larger today, with the PRD demonstrators out in full force, as are the police and the DFS. The DFS leader is walking around, barking directions. Trying to make their way towards the front are Pocho and Jon, Jon with his camera at the ready.
THE PODIUM
Again the long-haired woman whispers into Diaz ear as he strides to the microphone.
Jon photographs them.
DIAZ
You heard, no doubt, about what happened at my last rally. Now you see what my opponents are really like.
THE CROWD
DFS agents scuffle with PRD protestors.
THE PODIUM
DIAZ
You see? The PRD usually wears the mask of the nonviolent reformer, but not today. Today, the PRD is unmasked, revealing its true face, the face of the violent revolutionary!
THE CROWD
The PRD leader raises a white-gloved hand.
Jon photographs him.
THE PODIUM
The long-haired woman, looking frightened, steps back.
BANG. A gunshot, fired from his right, strikes Diaz abdomen and the crowd GASPS. BANG. A second gunshot, fired from his left, strikes Diaz head and the crowd SCREAMS.
DFS agents immediately seize THE SHOOTER ON THE LEFT.
THE CROWD
Jon photographs him, just before the agents haul him away. The DFS leader glares at Jon and Pocho.
THE PODIUM
As Diaz crumples to the floor, the long-haired woman rushes to his side and clutches his dead body.
THE CROWD
Jon photographs the bloody scene.
As always, I welcome your comments and suggestions.
FADE IN
EXT - THE AMERICAN SOUTHWEST - DAY
Just north of the U.S.-Mexican border, wind whips through a desert town, bending the post of a bilingual sign reading:Welcome to La Frontera, Bievenidos a La Frontera. The wind rises and begins to WAIL, kicking dust against an office sign reading
ocho Martinez, Private Investigator.
INT. POCHOS OFFICE
MRS. DIAZ, a busty Mexican woman in a low-cut dress, sits across a desk from POCHO, a burly middle-aged man in a wrestling mask and business suit. Beside Pocho sits JON BLOOM, a slump-shouldered young man in rumpled slacks and a sport coat.
MRS. DIAZ
I cant believe Im really here, talking to Pocho, my favorite luchador. I always defend you when people say youre nothing but a low-rent Santo.
Irritated that his prospective client mentioned Santo, the infinitely more famous luchador and crime fighter, Pocho abruptly changes the subject.
POCHO
Gracias, Seora Diaz, but, as you know, Im no longer a wrestler. Im a private detective now.
MRS. DIAZ
I know, but its because youre my hero that I traveled up here from Sonora just to see you.
POCHO
I appreciate that, Seora Diaz. But maybe now you could tell me why you came to see me today.
MRS. DIAZ
Couldnt we speak in private?
POCHO
Come now. You can speak in front of my operative. I assure you, anything you say in front of Seor Bloom will be kept in the strictest confidence.
MRS. DIAZ
Well, its my husband. I believe hes having an affair.
POCHO
What is your husbands first name?
MRS. DIAZ
Miguel.
POCHO
Miguel Diaz, like the PRI candidate for governor?
MRS. DIAZ
Not like the PRI candidate. He is the PRI candidate.
POCHO
Surely you realize, Seora, that, if it gets out your husband is having an affair, it may jeopardize his election chances.
MRS. DIAZ
Even if it did get out, I doubt the scandal would be enough to put his candidacy in jeopardy. Need I remind you that the PRI candidate has won every election for the last seventy-one years? He will win--the PRI will make sure of that.
POCHO
I thank you for coming, Seora, but I dont want to get caught up in any PRI business.
Distraught, Mrs. Diaz rises to her feet.
MRS. DIAZ
Seor Pocho, por favor. You must take this case. This woman hes involved with--shes from the PRI and shes bad news. I dont know what my husband is mixed up in, but whats in jeopardy here is not just his political career--its his life!
POCHO
Very well, Ill have my secretary draw up my standard contract.
MRS. DIAZ
Gracias, Seor Pocho. Gracias. Youll get to the bottom of this--I know you will.
POCHO
Well see what we can do.
EXT. A MEXICAN TOWN PLAZA - DAY
A political rally is underway in this impoverished border town, and the plaza is noisy and crowded. On a platform, before a Mexican flag with Partido Revolucionario Institucional written across it, stands the imposing figure of Miguel Diaz. Behind him stand a striking LONG-HAIRED WOMAN and several members of the DFS, the secret political police, wearing plainclothes, but conspicuous because of their military haircuts. Diaz, in the suede windbreaker that is part of the PRI uniform, steps forward, as the woman wearing a campaign button on her lapel whispers last minute words of encouragement. Approaching the podium bearing the PRIs circular emblem, its colors matching the flags green, white and red, Diaz raises his arms, in a gesture to quiet the crowds exuberant CHEERS.
DIAZ
Look around you, mis amigos. Everywhere you see squalor where once there was splendor. Everywhere you see poverty where once there was wealth. Long before the Spanish came, the Culua-Mexica, the Aztecs as they were later called, built a great and wealthy empire here. I say to you, as I stand before you today as candidate for governor of Sonora, that, under the leadership of the Institutional Revolutionary Party, Mexico, successor to that once great and wealthy empire, will be great and wealthy once more!
The crowd erupts into APPLAUSE.
THE CROWD
More DFS agents mill about, casting angry glances at PROTESTORS, waving flags bearing the sun-yellow emblem of the PRIs opponent, the PRD.
THE SEATS
No one notices Pocho, though he is wearing his standard outfit: a luchador mask and business suit. Bored, he glances at the paper in his lap. Beneath the masthead saying La Frontera Gazette, English Language Newspaper, the headline reads: POLLS SHOW CHALLENGER MAKING A STRONG SHOWING AGAINST DIAZ. Beside him, sits Bloom, holding a camera at the ready for anything that might lead him to the other woman. He nudges Pocho.
BLOOM
Whats Diaz saying? That hes an Aztec? He sure doesnt look like an Indian to me.
POCHO
No, you are right. Hes different from most Mexicans. Hes not a Mestizo; hes a criollo, a person of pure Spanish blood.
BLOOM
I dont understand.
THE PODIUM
DIAZ
My opponent, Moctezuma Castillo, claims to speak for the Mexican people when he challenges the results of the last election. But he doesnt speak for you, but for the reactionaries in the Catholic Church and the Republicans in the United States. It is for them my opponent speaks--this traitor, this double-crosser, this... Malinchista!
The DFS LEADER, a distinguished-looking older man, raises a white-gloved hand in an apparent signal. Plainclothesmen and UNIFORMED POLICE descend on the PRD supporters and a scuffle ensues. Trying to fight off policemen as they seize her, a MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN cries out to nearby REPORTERS AND PRESS PHOTOGRAPHERS.
MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN
The police attacked us first!
THE SEATS
Pocho points to the middle-aged woman.
POCHO
Jon, get a picture of this.
Jon snaps the picture.
POCHO (contd)
And get a picture of the man with the white glove.
Jon snaps the DFS leaders picture.
THE CROWD
PRD supporters pick up rocks and pelt the police and DFS, as they haul the protestors away.
INT. DINER, LA FRONTERA - NIGHT
At a booth, across from each other, Santo and Bloom sip coffee, waiting for their dinner to be served.
BLOOM
What happened at the rally today? It seemed like all hell broke loose right after Diaz called Castillo--what was it?--a Malintista.
POCHO
Malinchista. Its a word thats thrown around a lot in Mexican politics. It comes from Malinche, Conquistador Hernn Corts translator and lover,considered by many to be a traitor to her fellow Indians since she aided the Spanish in their conquest of the Aztecs. In truth, she wasnt an Aztec, but the member of another tribe--an enemy of the Aztecs. And she didnt volunteer to help the Spanish. She was a concubine sold to them.
BLOOM
So she wasnt really a traitor, after all.
POCHO
Well, no. What Diaz was saying was not, strictly speaking, historically accurate. Nevertheless, Malinche is part of our great national myth. Mexico, before the Spanish conquest, was an Eden. Then came Malinche, the Mexican Eve whose treachery brought about our national downfall.
Just then, a pretty Mexican WAITRESS, comes, serving Bloom a hamburger, Pocho a burrito.
POCHO (contd)
Gracias, seorita.
BLOOM
So Diaz calling Castillo a Malinchista, a traitor, set the protestors off.
POCHO
No, I think it was all a setup. The police and the DFS, the plainclothesmen, attacked the PRD first and blamed the violence on them.
BLOOM
Come to think of it, there was that woman that cried out The police attacked us first. And there was the older man wearing the glove. You dont suppose that was a signal?
POCHO
Yes. I saw it before at Tlatelolco.
BLOOM
Tlatelolco?
POCHO
Yes, Tlatelolco plaza, 1968. This was before I started wrestling, back when I was a still in college. President Daz Ordaz wanted the student demonstrators out of Mexico City before the Olympics, lest they spoil Mexicos world image. When flares went off, some of my friends started to run. I cried out: Dont panic. Dont give the security forces any provocation. It was then that I saw the head DFS agent give the signal.
A RAISED WHITE-GLOVED HAND
POCHO
Then we were descended on by the plainclothes DFS agents, the police, and the army. Yes, even the army. They came at us on foot and with tanks. They shot us with machine-guns and stabbed us with bayonets.
RAISED BAYONETS
POCHO
When it was over dozens were dead, some say hundreds. The next day, I watched as they cleaned up the plaza.
TLATELOLCO
Soldiers load bloody bodies onto trucks. The DFS leader, supervising the cleanup, breaks into a self-satisfied smile. When the military trucks leave, fire trucks appear and firemen turn hoses on the street, washing away the blood.
MATCH CUT TO:
POCHOS COFFEE SPILLING ON THE TABLE
Pocho picks up his overturned cup. Suddenly furious, he slams a fist on the table.
POCHO
That was him--that DFS agent at the rally today. That older guy at the rally--the one wearing the gloves. That was the same hijo de la chingada who gave the signal at Tlatelolco.
The waitress wipes up the spill.
POCHO (contd)
(to the waitress)
Sorry.
WAITRESS
Dont worry about it. Can I bring either of you another cup of coffee?
POCHO
No thanks. Just the check.
The waitress walks away.
POCHO (contd)
We better get to bed early. Were going to another campaign rally tomorrow.
EXT. CAMPAIGN RALLY - DAY
It is another outdoor rally in another impoverished border town. The crowd is larger today, with the PRD demonstrators out in full force, as are the police and the DFS. The DFS leader is walking around, barking directions. Trying to make their way towards the front are Pocho and Jon, Jon with his camera at the ready.
THE PODIUM
Again the long-haired woman whispers into Diaz ear as he strides to the microphone.
Jon photographs them.
DIAZ
You heard, no doubt, about what happened at my last rally. Now you see what my opponents are really like.
THE CROWD
DFS agents scuffle with PRD protestors.
THE PODIUM
DIAZ
You see? The PRD usually wears the mask of the nonviolent reformer, but not today. Today, the PRD is unmasked, revealing its true face, the face of the violent revolutionary!
THE CROWD
The PRD leader raises a white-gloved hand.
Jon photographs him.
THE PODIUM
The long-haired woman, looking frightened, steps back.
BANG. A gunshot, fired from his right, strikes Diaz abdomen and the crowd GASPS. BANG. A second gunshot, fired from his left, strikes Diaz head and the crowd SCREAMS.
DFS agents immediately seize THE SHOOTER ON THE LEFT.
THE CROWD
Jon photographs him, just before the agents haul him away. The DFS leader glares at Jon and Pocho.
THE PODIUM
As Diaz crumples to the floor, the long-haired woman rushes to his side and clutches his dead body.
THE CROWD
Jon photographs the bloody scene.
As always, I welcome your comments and suggestions.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
[Edited on Jun 17, 2005 1:19PM]