INT. CONCERT HALL - AFTERNOON

 

The sound of people talking, loud. LOUDER. 

 

UP ON an auditorium full of people, big and open, wood-paneled. The stage isn’t curtained; a familiar orchestral circle of chairs sit visible from the audience. 

 

This is a social event. Everyone is dressed sharply in black, holding martini glasses and finding their way to their seats. 

 

Lev (30s, handsome but prematurely graying) and Audrey (30s, model-pretty) walk in, just as sharply dressed. She holds his arm like they are an old-fashioned couple, gentleman and lady. 

 

AUDREY: Find our seats. What do you want to drink?

 

Lev is visibly anxious. She detangles herself.

 

LEV: Whatever you’re having. 

 

She smiles at him, warmth not reaching her eyes, before disappearing into the crowd. 

 

Disgruntled, Lev straightens his suit and walks to the seats. It takes a little while. The crowd is large.

 

Lev sits and a WOMAN (20s, expensive-looking) in the next seat turns to him slightly. 

 

WOMAN: Mozart is beautiful in the coastal air. I’m not sure what makes it different, but it is, entirely.

 

LEV: I’ll have to listen for any differences. 

 

WOMAN: You’re Lev Kranson, aren’t you?

 

He nods, sitting uncomfortably as the woman fixes her earring. 

 

WOMAN: I found your Symphony 33 incredibly romantic.

 

LEV: Thank you.

 

A tight-lipped smile. He didn’t. Audrey returns, two vodka seltzers in her hands. 

 

AUDREY: Your old friend has pulled in a serious crowd. It’s madness in here. He must be very good.

 

LEV: He is.

 

The lights DIM FURTHER, house lights go off. A SPOTLIGHT appears on stage, and the orchestra walks out like a well-oiled machine. 

 

The conductor raises his baton, and the orchestra launches into MOZART’S SYMPHONY NO. 32 IN G MAJOR. 

 

ON NICO, the dashingly handsome first violin, gallant in concert black. He is very good, leading with every flourish of his instrument. He plays fluidly, hair falling into his eyes.

 

LEV IS ENCHANTED. Painfully so. 

 

The piece ends and the audience applauds. For a second, Nico’s eyes roam over the audience and seem to find Lev’s.

 

Lev stiffens as if caught red-handed.

 

The conductor raises his baton again, and again the orchestra is back at their task. 

 

Lev never relaxes back into the music, remaining frozenly enthralled. 

 

INT. CONCERT HALL - A LITTLE LATER

 

A STANDING OVATION from the crowd. The serene noise of the orchestra is replaced again by raucous cheering and talking. 

 

Lev stands shell-shocked. He turns to Audrey, his eyes like a caged animal’s. 

 

LEV: I’m going outside. Don’t wait up for me. 

 

Audrey looks at him, confused, but he’s already slipping out.

 

EXT. CONCERT HALL - EVENING

 

The parking lot is full of dispersing people, but it’s much quieter out here. Most of everyone is still inside. 

 

Lev shakes a bit as he begins to smoke, cupping a hand around his lighter in the wind. 

 

A door opens to the right of him. Nico walks out, a leather jacket donned over his concert black and his violin in a case by his side. 

 

Lev spots him first, cigarette forgotten between his lips. Nico notices him right after.

 

NICO: There’s the Lev I remember. Sneaking out of pleasant conversation to have a cigarette by himself in the cold. 

 

LEV: Nico. I hardly remember you at all. 

 

Both men break into smiles. Lev pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and they hug. 

 

LEV: You’re escaping too? 

 

NICO: It’s awkward to entertain all of the idolatry that I encounter after such an exceptional performance. 

 

LEV: You won’t escape it from me. I did think it was exceptional.  

 

Nico seems pleased by this. He then locks on to Lev’s still burning cigarette. 

 

NICO: Are you smoking that?

 

Lev looks down as if he’d forgotten he was holding it. He taps out some ash with his index.

 

LEV: I’m trying to quit. Trying to only smoke when it’s worth it. 

 

Lev stubs the cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. 

 

NICO: In that case… 

 

Nico starts to walk, indicating that Lev should follow. 

 

He does, intrigued. They walk to the edge of the parking lot, to a railing overlooking a cliff.

 

The sun is almost entirely set behind the ocean, burning the edges of the sky. Just a few feet from the railing, the ground drops off swiftly to the raging ocean. White-crested waves buffet against the sharp, calico-colored cliffs. 

 

Lev puffs smoke in easy awe. 

 

LEV: It’s beautiful.

 

Nico smiles an I told you so.

 

NICO: We missed the sunset. Now that’s really spectacular. Got another cigarette? 

 

Lev does. They smoke it together. It’s silent for a minute.

 

LEV: The ocean reminds me of Germany.

 

Nico laughs, delighted.

 

NICO: Summer in Heiligendamm!

 

LEV: Heiligendamm. Yes. (Pause). I think that was when I started to despise music. 

 

NICO: I remember your compositions. Your concertos. If you hated it, you really fooled me.

 

LEV: No, no. I loved it. It was the best thing I’ve ever done. I loved it too much, that was the problem. Everything I did after, I tried to make another Germany. It seemed to work, for a little while. These last few years have been hard.

 

Lev hands over the cigarette and watches Nico smoke it. 

 

NICO: You’re brilliant, Lev. I’m certain you’ve found something in all this time. 

 

LEV: Lately everything is uninteresting to me.

 

NICO: Surely not everything. Everything is so vast. Everything wants you to write about it. Vivaldi wrote about the seasons. You could find birds. Grass. Motorbikes. The ocean. 

 

LEV: This view is beautiful. Maybe it could fix me. 

 

Nico smiles, looks from the sea back to Lev. 

 

NICO: Drive you home?

 

INT. STARFRONT SUITE - EVEN LATER

 

Lev walks into the dark suite, hair tousled, looking free. The bathroom’s light is on. The sounds of a SHOWER RUNNING. 

 

Lev takes note of this, strides across the room. He goes to his suitcase, unearths a notebook. Goes to Audrey’s extensive bags and digs out a VIOLIN. 

 

EXT. STARFRONT HOTEL - DEEP EVENING

 

Lev sits on the beach outside the hotel, the building’s lights bright in the medium distance. It’s dark but he unzips the violin case. 

 

Looks at it. Apprehensive. Takes it out of the case.

 

MONTAGE OF COMPOSITION:

 

– Lev gives the violin a tune, a stroke of the bow. It takes a lot of effort. He persists, eases into it.

 

– Interrupting the composition to forcefully open his notebook, and, despite the dim light, scribble down some Polish. 

 

– Playing again. ON LEV’S FACE, all intensity, heavily shadowed. 

 

– Lev finds what he was looking for. His face then, suddenly alight. He drops the violin and kisses the sand. Bad idea. He comes up shaking his head to get the grains off. 

 

– The beach as Lev fills it with music, cast in the faraway light of the hotel. 

 

END MONTAGE.

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