Fellows

I spent my days at Civitella Ranieri researching a play about the way painters see. The castle was a perfect setting for this work. I’d spend my mornings researching about Rembrandt’s studio technique. In the afternoons I’d drive off into the splendors of the landscape to look at great paintings. The boundary between life and art is transparent in Umbria. One climbs and descends the ancient stones steps, warmed by a physical sensation of time. Every vista brims with human intention. The wind in the oak leaves. Piero della Francesca is whispering to God. 

INT. ANGIE’S JEEP — CONTINUOUS

The back window blows out as they pull back onto the street.

FATHER  You piss him off.

ANGIE  Oh yeah.

FATHER  Where now?

ANGIE  You change the world by changing the way you think, dad. Get the overview, set the moral compass, boom.

The old man says nothing, those sad steady eyes.

ANGIE (CONT’D) Look at yourself, dad. You spent your life pouring cement. You have to admit your thinking got a bit stuck. I mean, you never stood outside yourself and looked at the big picture.

FATHER  I did it all for you.

ANGIE  I know that. You worked like a pig your whole life so I could be who I am. My gift is that I see myself being me and I have the courage to say: When do we get to the good part? Haven’t you ever asked yourself that, dad? I haven’t been happy since I was ten fuckin years old.

(tearing up)

I remember this story about a guy who made wings. He goes flying up to the sun and everybody down below gets totally pissed off, he looks down and says; “What the fuck, people? It’s time. Dare to dream.”

(pause)

God wants us to be free.

The old man starts to sing VOLARE. Angie joins in. The happiest they’ve been in years.