Part of the script of the film CLOSER (starring Julia Roberts, Clive Owen, Natalie Portman and Jude
Law) by Patrick Marber A man and a girl approach, walking... Girl is hit by a bus. She regains consciousness. PORTMAN: Hello, Stranger. They're in the ER. He notices her going through his things. PORTMAN: Sorry. Looking for a cigarette. DAN: I've given up. PORTMAN: Thank you. PORTMAN: Gotta be somewhere? DAN: Work. PORTMAN: Mmm. DAN: Do you fancy my sandwiches? PORTMAN: Don't eat fish. DAN: Why not? PORTMAN: Fish piss in the sea. DAN: So do children. PORTMAN: Don't eat children either. PORTMAN: What's your work? DAN: I'm sort of a journalist. PORTMAN: What sort? DAN: I write obituaries. She moves over, offering him a seat. PORTMAN: Are we in for a long wait? He looks at an elderly lady. DAN: She was 21 when she came in. She laughs. DAN: Does it hurt? PORTMAN: I'll live. DAN: Do you want me to put your leg up? PORTMAN: Yes, please. He puts her leg up. It's somewhat bloody, but there's no major wound. PORTMAN: Who cut off your crust? DAN: Me. PORTMAN: Did your mother cut off your crust when you were a little boy? DAN: Yes, I believe she did. PORTMAN: You should eat your crust. DAN: You should stop smoking. PORTMAN: How long was I out? DAN: About 10 seconds. PORTMAN: Then what? DAN: You came to. You focused on me. You said, "Hello, stranger." PORTMAN: What a floozy! DAN: The cabby crossed himself. He said, "Thank fuck! I though I'd killed her."d She laughs. DAN: I said, "Let's get her to a hospital." He hesitated! I think he thought there'd be paperwork, that he'd be held responsible. So I said with a slight sneer, "Please, just drop us at the hospital." PORTMAN: Show me the sneer. She laughs. PORTMAN: Good, buster. Outside Girl gets a fag from someone. PORTMAN: Thank you.
She lights it and offers it to him. DAN: I told you, I've given up. PORTMAN: Try harder. DAN: You live here. PORTMAN: Just arrived. From New York. DAN: Taking a vacation? PORTMAN: I'm on an expedition. DAN: Where's your baggage? Where are you staying? PORTMAN: I'm a waif. She walks off. He's pointing out things to her. DAN: A red bus. DAN: Policeman, or bobby, observe the distinctive helmet. She laughs. DAN: St. Paul's Cathedral. Please note the famous dome. PORTMAN: This is a truly magnificent tour. DAN: It's the London the tourists never get to see. PORTMAN: What's this? DAN: I've no idea. They walk through a gate. It's a memorial wall. PORTMAN: They're all people who died saving the lives of others. DAN: I've been here before. DAN: Twenty years ago. My mother's dead; my father and I came here the afternoon she died. She was a smoker. She died in the hospital, actually. PORTMAN: Is your father still alive? DAN: Hanging on. He's in a home. PORTMAN: You're late for work. DAN: Are you saying you want me to go? PORTMAN: I'm saying you're late for work. --On a bus PORTMAN: How did you end up writing obituaries? DAN: Well, I had dreams of being a writer, but I had no voice. What am I saying? I had no talent. So I ended up in obituaries, which is the Siberia of journalism. PORTMAN: Tell me what you do. I want to imagine you in Siberia. DAN: Really? PORTMAN: Mmm. DAN: Well, we call it the "obits" page. There's three of us: me, Graham, and Harry. When I get to work without fail... DAN: Are you sure you want to know? DAN: Well, if someone important died, we go to the deep breeze, which is a computer file with all the obituaries. PORTMAN: So those obituaries are written while they're still alive? DAN: Some peoples'. And Harry, he's the editor. He decides who we're going to lead with. Make calls, check facts. At six, we stand 'round the computer, and look at the next day's page. Make final changes, add a few euphemisms for our own amusement. PORTMAN: Such as? DAN: "He was a convivial fellow," meaning he was an alcoholic. DAN: "He valued his privacy," gay. DAN: "He enjoyed his privacy," raging queer. She laughs. PORTMAN: What would my euphemism be? DAN: "She was disarming." PORTMAN: That's not a euphemism. DAN: Yes, it is.
