Daily Dialogue — November 5, 2014
EXT. THE BEACHFRONT — NIGHT
The hottest January in fifty years has brought the crowds to the beach in search of relief. But they’ve been disappointed. Even the breeze off the ocean seems blown from a hair dryer. Still, the nights are a trifle better and the Beachfront, the penny arcades, the ice cream stands and bars are busy, even now in the middle of the week.
Racine comes out of a bar and lights a cigarette, idly watching the passing parade. There is a free band concert in progress at the band shell. Racine wanders in that direction.
EXT. THE BAND SHELL — NIGHT
The Miranda Beach High School Orchestra is playing to a full, sweating house; the audience is a sea of orange programs fluttering away as fans. People come and go frequently.
The atmosphere is as innocent and informal as the music the band is playing now.
Racine leans against the back rail, smoking, his eyes playing over the scene with no expectations.
Then, down near the center aisle, a WOMAN rises. As the band plays on, this extraordinary, beautiful woman, in a simple white dress, moves down the aisle. She moves wonderfully. The dress clings to her body in the heat.
Racine watches, mesmerized, as she walks directly toward him. She passes within a few inches of him, her eyes lowered. Racine’s body sways a moment as she goes by, as though buffeted by some force. But they do not touch. She goes out onto the Beachfront walkway.
EXT. THE BEACHFRONT WALKWAY — NIGHT
The Woman, MATTY, has walked to the rail. She stands there now lighting a cigarette. She presents her face to the ocean, hoping for a breeze. We move in on her, with Racine.
Racine lights a new cigarette and smiles at her. She looks at him and, for an instant, her eyes race over his body, then she looks back at the ocean.
RACINE: You can stand here with me if you want, but you’ll have to agree not to talk about the heat.
She looks at him, and there is something startling about the directness of her gaze. When she speaks, she is cool without being hostile.
MATTY: I’m a married woman.
RACINE: Meaning what?
MATTY: Meaning I’m not looking for company.
She turns back toward the ocean.
RACINE: Then you should have said — ‘I’m a happily married woman.’
MATTY: That’s my business.
RACINE: What?
MATTY: How happy I am.
RACINE: And how, happy is that?
She looks at him curiously. She begins walking slowly along the rail. He walks too.
MATTY: You’re not too smart, are you?
Racine shakes his head “no.”
MATTY: I like that in a man.
RACINE: What else you like — Ugly? Lazy? Horny? I got ’em all.
MATTY: You don’t look lazy.
Racine smiles.
MATTY: Tell me, does chat like that work with most women?
RACINE: Some. If they haven’t been around much.
MATTY: I wondered. Thought maybe I was out of touch.
She stops again at the rail as a small breeze blows in from the ocean. She turns her back to it and, with her cigarette dangling from her lips, she uses both hands to lift her hair up off her nape. She closes her eyes as the air hits her. Racine watches very closely.
RACINE: How ’bout I buy you a drink?
MATTY: I told you. I’ve got a husband.
RACINE: I’ll buy him one too.
MATTY: He’s out of town.
RACINE: My favorite kind. We’ll drink to him.
MATTY: He only comes up on the weekends.
Matty lets her hair fall and again begins moving down walkway. She drops her cigarette and steps on it.
RACINE: I’m liking him better all the time. You better take me up on this quick. In another forty-five minutes I’m going to give up and walk away.
MATTY: You want to buy me something? I’ll take one of these.
They have come upon a Vendor selling snow cones.
RACINE: What kind?
MATTY: Cherry.
RACINE: (to Vendor) Make it two.
The Vendor scoops and pours as Racine lays some change on the cart.
RACINE: (to Matty) You’re not staying in Miranda Beach. (she shakes her head “no”) I would have noticed you.
MATTY: Is this town that small?
Racine hands her a snow cone. They walk over to the rail. Racine watches her eat the snow cone with enormous interest.
RACINE: Pinehaven. You’re staying up in Pinehaven, on the waterway. (she gives him a look, surprised) You have a house.
MATTY: How’d you know?
RACINE: You look like Pinehaven.
MATTY: How does Pinehaven look?
RACINE: Well tended.
She looks out at the ocean.
MATTY: Yes, I’m well tended, all right. Well tended. What about you?
RACINE: Me? I need tending. I need someone to take care of me. Rub my tired muscles. Smooth out my sheets.
MATTY: Get married.
RACINE: I just need it for tonight.
For the first time, Matty laughs. A moment later, she spills the snow cone over the front of her dress. It makes a bright red stain against the white. The thin material clings to the line of her breast.
MATTY: Good. Nice move, Matty.
RACINE: Matty. I like it. Right over your heart.
MATTY: At least it’s cool. I’m burning up.
RACINE: I asked you not to talk about the heat.
MATTY: Would you get me a paper towel or something? Dip it in some cold water.
Racine starts toward the restroom nearby.
RACINE: Right away. I’ll even wipe it off for you.
MATTY: You don’t want to lick it?
This causes a momentary hitch in Racine’s retreat, but then he hurries off.
— Body Heat (1981), written by Lawrence Kasdan
The Daily Dialogue theme for the week: Seduction. Today’s suggestion by James Schramm.
Trivia: According to ‘Halliwells’, the movie was an “uncredited revamp of Double Indemnity (1944)” whilst ‘The Virgin Film Guide’ said that the movie “incorporates a plot reminiscent of Double Indemnity (1944)” whereas ‘The Thriller Film Guide’ said that the “plot (although not credited as such) is a virtual reworking of Double Indemnity (1944)”.
Dialogue On Dialogue: Commentary by James: “This is a great screenplay. We are seduced by Matty and just like the hapless Ned Racine we don’t realize until the end that she’s alive and has completely played us.”
If you have a suggestion for this week’s theme, please head to comments. It’s good karma!