ESPRESSO

By

Jona Pelovska

EXT. CAFÉ TERRACE. DAY.

A close up of a short bilingual cafe menu. The TITLES are running from top to bottom on the menu, followed by the MENU CONTENT which settles permanently, ending the sequence.

MIHAIL (O.S. with a thick accent)

Just an Espresso, please!

MIHAIL, a thirty-something fair man, neat and barely shaven, hands the menu to the WAITRESS, a gently striking pale girl, who smiles and goes.

Mihail looks at the street. The CAMERA follows his gaze. The leaves of the nearby tree squeeze the light and scatter it playfully on the heads of passer bys, on the hat of the ELDERLY BLACK WOMAN sitting on the next table, smoking through a cigarette holder as her RED-HEAD COMPANION. A view on the exterior staircase of an old Montreal house. A Montreal street corner sign. The cars glide down the street, sun rays dancing on their greasy backs. An Arret traffic sign. The long fingers of a MUTE MAN move quickly – his LITTLE GIRL and his WIFE laugh silently. An ASIAN BOY with pink streaks smiles as his date, a chubby man in two piece suit, comes in.

A cup of espresso lands on a table. As if on cue, a GYPSY TANGO, GELEM, GELEM starts playing. Michael looks on as LUNA, an elegant woman on the cusp of her thirties, puts down her book, smiles at the waitress and takes a sip of the hot espresso. The silk curls of her dark hair obscure her face as she casually glances toward Michael.

Luna notices as the waitress puts a cup of espresso in front of Mihail. The gypsy tango keeps everything in coordinated rhythm.

The clouds are reflected in the dark liquid. Michael looks up and takes a sip. Luna glances at him. He glances back when her eyes wander away.

A pigeon alights next to Mihail’s table. He leans back. Luna leans back and crosses her legs. He crosses his legs. They take a synchronous sip and, having noticed their synchronicity, they laugh amused.

The music goes on. It come from a live STREET BAND standing on the sidewalk in front of the terrace.

MIHAIL (O.S.):

May I?

LUNA (O.S.):

Bien sur?

Mihail is at Luna’s table. He leans over and puts his coffee cup on the table. The scene transforms into an animated version.

With a swift gesture, Mihail sways Luna into a tango dance. The terrace is now empty and looks like a dance floor.

MIHAIL:

You like espresso?

LUNA:

Oh, merci! Ca c’est un compliment spécial.

MIHAIL
(deliberately slow and clear in his speech):

In Bulgaria, where I come from, it’s not so special. But here in Montreal espresso’s become common too…

The two espresso cups are also dancing tango on the empty table.

LUNA (O.S.):

No, je ne viens pas de Montréal. Je suis Marocaine. Afrique de Nord.

MIHAIL (O.S.):

African, yes. I like Brazilian more, but here they don’t ask and I have stopped demanding. All coffee’s good if you know how to appreciate it.


The animation dissolves back into live action. The two cups assume their proper positions in front of the seated Mihail and Luna.

LUNA:

Et vous étés de quelle origine?


MIHAIL:

Yes, I used to like original, but I no longer care either way. (he slows down and pronounces crudely) No original!


They both laugh. Then she looks him warmly in the eyes.

LUNA:

Oh, un vrai cosmopolite! Moi aussi, je suis une citoyenne du monde. Mais qu’a même j’aime mon pays d’origine. C’est belle le Maroc.

She looks away dreamily toward the nearby TOURIST AGENCY.

EXT. PROMOTIONAL POSTER ON THE TOURIST AGENCY.

A paradise beach and an exquisite white mosque.

LUNA (O.S. cont.):

Je manque ma famille, mon enfance... C’est différent la vie exile…

Upon closer inspection of the poster, a LITTLE GIRL is running on the beach.

A BOY is running on another, but similar, promotional beach. Gradually, the posters become animated.

MIHAIL (O.S.):

Yes, it is different, but that’s why we live, what we dream – to experience something new. Otherwise we’d stay babies all our lives, no?

Luna laughs briefly. The boy sees the girl and waves at her. She sees him and smiles.

LUNA (O.S.):

Mais vraiment, parfois je suis q’une bébé avec des illusions agrandir…

A dreamy pause in the conversation allows the tango to take over. The girl starts running toward the boy. He runs toward her. They meet midway in what is now one beach.

EXT. CAFÉ TERRACE. DAY.

Back to live action, Mihail looks at Luna with open eyes.

MIHAIL:

By the way, my name is Mihail. But Michael’s easier.

Mihail extends his hand. Luna extends hers.

LUNA:

Mihail – c’est un beau nom! Moi, je m’appelle Luna!

The two kids from the poster shake hands.

MIHAIL (O.S.):

Like the moon! I am very happy to meet you, Luna.

LUNA (O.S.):

Happy! Moi aussi, je suis enchantais!

EXT. PROMOTIONAL POSTER ON THE TOURIST AGENCY.

The two kids kneel in the sand and start playing, building a sand castle perhaps. The camera pans up toward the blue sky above.

EXT. CAFÉ TERRACE. DAY.

The music ends. The action is back to live. Zoom out reveals the two posters placed next to each other. POSTER 2, with the boy, sports an Eastern European Orthodox church and a sunny beach. The two kids are missing. They are live and grown up on the terrace, taking the last sips of their espressos.

MIHAIL:

Do you want…

LUNA (simultaneously):

Est-ce que tu veux…

They burst into a happy laughter. The camera slowly leaves them alone.

The musicians are packing their instruments. The street pulsates with its resumed hectic rhythm, the sun playing with the colourful traffic and pedestrians

THE END

Montreal, January 2004

Jona Pelovska©2004