image by Lalia Jamaica
“The guitar is a small orchestra. It is polyphonic. Every
string is a different color & different voice.”
1(two-shot) the two entered the establishment through a sturdy oaken
door, with an Aztec calendar's symbols carved in the middle of it.
2(sound cue) heavy door, creaky hinges, several voices, a woman laughing
& glasses clinking.
3(medium wide shot) the interior of the cantina as the two men walk in, with
the Eagle in the lead.
4(reverse shot) their backs to the camera; the walls were gray-yellow adobe
with a foot wide orange stripe, like a painted ribbon near the ceiling, no
windows, with an earthen straw-covered floor. There was a modest half-bar
with a jack pine plank top, no railing, no stools, & two clay spittoons.
5(sound cue) soft tweets on a trumpet & clarinet.
6(dolly shot) approaching the bar. Behind the bar was a short, but husky,
Mexican, with a brown towel draped on one shoulder.
7(medium close-up) He had a rope-burn scar on his muscular neck, his hair
was shiny black, worn Apache-long, tied in back, with Indian bangs, a droopy
thin mustache grew like wild grain over his upper lip, partially covering his
bad teeth as he smiled.
8(reverse medium wide shot) his back to the camera as the men walked up.
9(sound cue) soft castanets & Indian seed rattle.
10(three-shot) angle on the bartender;
--El Aguila! Welcome, do you want mescal?
11(reverse shot) angle on Johnny:
--No gracious, Mateo--today is whisky. I have money from Graff. Bring the
bottle to us.
--Mateo: Se, Graff, one gorda bendejo.
--Johnny: Sure, sure, one sad pinche hijo de puta.
12(sound cue) Spanish guitar, sweet strumming chords.
13(cut to overhead crane shot) the Cantina had ten round tables of varying
sizes, with well worn wicker chairs. Three well-dressed charros sat at a table
in the back, while several mestizo peasant farmers, still wearing huge straw
sombreros over their silent tanned faces, sat at other tables, sipping their sweet
mescal. Johnny & Buck walked up to a large table near the wall under a peeling
faded colorful mural of a bullfighter.
14(medium two shot) at floor level; a young handsome charro sat on the sooty
ledge of the cold fireplace, playing a beautiful guitar, his soulful eyes met those
of an older buxom whore who was sitting next to him, one of her fleshy hands
on his shoulder, one sculpted foot perched on another chair, a bracelet
of tiny silver bells around her ankle. She wore a big ruby ring on the third
finger. She smiled at the two newcomers, but her lids were partly-closed,
with her head slightly back, listening to the music, & the young cowboy
humming soft & low.
15(sound cue) a string of beads colliding, a tambourine shaking.
16(medium tight shot) a colorful beaded curtain being flung aside by a
young saloon señorita standing with her arms on her hips in the dim
smoke. She glided into the room & headed right for their table.
17(medium close up) Johnny grinning & Buck smiling.
18(four-shot) Mateo arrived with a dusty brown bottle of whiskey & three
glasses at the precise moment the lovely cantina bird did.
--the young whore: sliding smoothly onto Johnny’s lap:
--Cogeme, muy hombre.
18(angle on Mateo) That’ll be four bits for the burn.
19(sound cue) soft coronet.
20(close-up) Johnny plunked a new silver dollar onto the table. Mateo
scooped it up, flicking it with his thumb & smiling:
--And who is your big companero?
21(three shot) over Mateo’s shoulder--
--Mateo Valdez meet Rod Buck.
22(close-up) Mateo: Ay Carumba!
23(three-shot) The two men shook hands. The Mexican’s grip was firm
as he smiled his bad smile & winked at Johnny.
--Mateo: So, he has come at last.
--Johnny: Se, he has come.
--Mateo: Good--& just in time.
24(sound cue) fast but subdued guitar strumming, soft snare drum beats.
25(cut to medium wide shot) Mateo drops a fifty cent piece on the table
& walks away, still smiling.
26(three shot) the prostitute had wrapped her shapely arms around
Johnny’s neck. Buck was silent, sipping his strong whiskey.
27(two-shot) with Johnny drumming his fingers on the table:
--Well, Liseta,my pretty bird, what is it you want from old Aguila?
28(close-up) Lisa’s hazel eyes shining, flashing her perfect white teeth:
--First your fine cock, & then your pesos.
--Johnny: You really tempt me, woman, your scent is in my nose--but
please fly away--I must talk with this silent buffalo across the table.29(sound cue) guitar, snare drum brushing, & Indian branch flute.
Posted over on dVerse Poets Pub OLN
Would you like to hear me read this cinemagenic poem to you?