She came along the alley and up the back stairs the way she always used to. Doc hadn’t seen her for over a year. Nobody had. Back then it was always sandals, bottom half of a flower print bikini, faded Country Joe & the Fish T- shirt. Tonight, she was all in flatland gear, hair a lot shorter than he remembered, looking just like she swore she’d never look...
Inherent Vice (2014)
SORTILEGE
A screenplay character in Inherent Vice (2014).
- lines
- 32
- words
- 1,466
- scenes
- 21
- dialogue
- 8.5%
- avg words / line
- 46
- shortest / longest
- 3 / 202
Sample dialogue
Doc fell into a car convoy, moving slowly, single lane through the fog. He figured if he missed the Gordita Beach exit, he'd take the first one whose sign he could read and work his way back on surface streets. He knew that at Rosecrans, the freeway began to dogleg east, and at some point, Hawthorne Boulevard or Artesia, he'd lose the fog, unless it was spreading tonight, and settled in region wide... Maybe then it would stay this way for days, maybe he'd have to just keep driving, down past Long Beach, down through Orange County, and San Diego and across a border where nobody could tell anymore in the fog who was Mexican, who was Anglo, who was anybody. Then again, he might run out of gas before that happened, and have to leave the caravan, and pull over on the shoulder, and wait. For whatever would happen. For a forgotten joint to materialize in his pocket. For the CHP to come by and choose not to hassle him. For a restless blonde in a Stingray to stop and offer him a ride. For the fog to burn off, and for something else this time, somehow, to be there instead.
scene 114 — INT. DOC'S CAR (DRIVING) - NIGHTChryskylodon? Animal tooth?
scene 75 — INT. JAPANESE COFFEE SHOP - DAYLong, sad history of L.A. land use -- Mexican families bounced out of Chavez Ravine to build Dodger Stadium, American Indians swept out of Bunker Hill for the Music Center and now Tariq's neighborhood bulldozed aside for Channel View Estates...
scene 7 — INT. DOC'S OFFICE - THAT MOMENT... Where you off to?
scene 75 — INT. JAPANESE COFFEE SHOP - DAYCould that be true? All this time, Doc assumed he'd been out busting his balls for folks who, if they paid him anything it'd be half a lid or a small favor down the line or maybe only just a quick smile, long as it was real. He began to run through the cash customers he could remember, starting with Crocker Fenway and going on through studio executives, stock market heroes of the go-go years, remittance men from far away who needed new pussy or dope connections, rich old guys with cute young wives and vice versa... It was sure a piss-poor record, not too different, after all, he guessed, from interests Coy had been working for. Forget who -- what was he working for anymore?
scene 92 — SAME SCENE - LATER
Bookends
Doc fell into a car convoy, moving slowly, single lane through the fog. He figured if he missed the Gordita Beach exit, he'd take the first one whose sign he could read and work his way back on surface streets. He knew that at Rosecrans, the freeway began to dogleg east, and at some point, Hawthorne Boulevard or Artesia, he'd lose the fog, unless it was spreading tonight, and settled in region wide... Maybe then it would stay this way for days, maybe he'd have to just keep driving, down past Long Beach, down through Orange County, and San Diego and across a border where nobody could tell anymore in the fog who was Mexican, who was Anglo, who was anybody. Then again, he might run out of gas before that happened, and have to leave the caravan, and pull over on the shoulder, and wait. For whatever would happen. For a forgotten joint to materialize in his pocket. For the CHP to come by and choose not to hassle him. For a restless blonde in a Stingray to stop and offer him a ride. For the fog to burn off, and for something else this time, somehow, to be there instead.