THE EM­PIRE CLAS­SIC SCENE

THE SHIN­ING CHO­SEN BY ADAM WINGARD

Empire (UK) - - RE.VIEW -

Adam Wingard: “My favourite movie scene of all time is the bar­tender scene in The

Shin­ing with Jack Ni­chol­son and Joe turkel. I love the per­for­mances and the iconic-ness of the whole thing. If it comes on tv, I have to stop what I’m do­ing and watch it. I love the in­ter­ac­tions be­tween those two, but that scene in par­tic­u­lar is about as good as movies get.”

INT. OVER­LOOK HO­TEL

Jack Tor­rance (Jack Ni­chol­son) is in a foul mood. He en­ters the de­serted Gold Room, turns on the lights, goes up to the empty bar. Not a drink in sight.

JACK: God, I’d give any­thing for a drink. I’d give my god­damn soul for just a glass of beer.

He puts his heads in his hands. When he opens them again, what he sees makes him smile.

JACK: Hi, Lloyd. Lit­tle slow tonight, ain’t it?

Jack laughs man­i­cally. We see why: a bar­man — Lloyd (Joe Turkel) — has sud­denly ap­peared. What’s more, the bar is now fully stocked. LLOYD: Yes it is, Mr Tor­rance. [He steps for­ward and puts his hands on the counter] What’ll it be?

JACK: I’m aw­fully glad you asked me that, Lloyd. Be­cause I just hap­pen to have two twen­ties and two tens right here in my wal­let. I was afraid they were go­ing to be there un­til next April. So here’s what. You slip me a bot­tle of bour­bon, a lit­tle glass, and some ice. You can do that, can’t you, Lloyd? You’re not too busy, are you?

LLOYD: No, sir. Not busy at all. Lloyd turns to start mak­ing the drink.

JACK: Good man. You set ’em up and I’ll knock ’em back, Lloyd, one by one. White man’s bur­den, Lloyd my man, white man’s bur­den.

He takes out his wal­let. It’s empty.

JACK: Say, Lloyd, it seems I’m tem­po­rar­ily light. How’s my credit in this joint any­way?

LLOYD: Your credit’s fine, Mr Tor­rance.

JACK: That’s swell. I like ya, Lloyd. I al­ways liked ya. You were al­ways the best of ’em. Best god­damn bar­tender from Tim­buktu to Port­land, Maine. Or Port­land, Ore­gon, for that mat­ter. LLOYD: Thank you for say­ing so.

JACK: Here’s to five mis­er­able months on the wagon, and all the ir­repara­ble harm that it’s caused me.

He takes a drink. One gulp. Gone. LLOYD: How are things go­ing, Mr Tor­rance?

JACK: Things could be bet­ter, Lloyd. Things could be a whole lot bet­ter.

LLOYD: I hope it’s noth­ing se­ri­ous. JACK: Nah. Noth­ing se­ri­ous. Lloyd pours him another drink.

JACK: Just a lit­tle prob­lem with the old sperm bank up­stairs. Noth­ing I can’t han­dle, Lloyd. Thanks.

LLOYD: Women. Can’t live with ’em, can’t live with­out ’em.

JACK: Words of wis­dom, Lloyd… Words. Of. Wis­dom.

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