Slowly the spit dangled down from the lips until it blobbed onto his own lips and he put out his tongue and licked the spit into his mout…
More about The Tangier Script / / Order The Tangier Script My Website What it’s about: / Stressed actress is on vacation in Tangier when spies from World War II, Samuel Pepys, mysterious Moroccan musicians, and other long-dead characters from the city’s violent past, manifest into her life. Her young cinema verite boyfriend doesn’t want a script but Tangier supplies it. Where it’s set: / The story spins itself around the city on the northwest corner of Africa. It’s the place where European, African and Arab worlds meet. It’s where Atlas stood on his mountains and held up the sky; where Hannibal took his elephants across to invade Europe; the launching pad for General Franco’s invasion of Spain; the Second World War original of Bogart’s “Casablanca”. “Tangier seems to exist on several dimensions…Here fact merges into dream, and dreams erupt into the real world” – William Burroughs. The Main Characters: / (There’s been a cast of thousands through here – Cleopatra’s daughter, Samuel Pepys, General Eisenhower, international spies, film stars, beat novelists – you name them, they’ve been here, and left something of themselves to haunt the place – and to haunt our contemporary characters). British actress Miriam-Ann Dunn ‘resting’ between films and waiting for her agent – a flamboyant old queen called Leonard Silberman – to send her the right script to reverse her fading fame and fortune. Her young director/lover Antony, shooting a bit of wild footage about nothing in particular. Ronald Burke, her ex-shrink and father of her daughter Stephanie, called back to help them all. / / In her early, theatre, days, Miriam-Ann used to get nervous and Leonard would say “Darling – once those lights hit you, you’ll be fine! That’s home out there on the stage! Don’t you realise that for a few precious hours in your life you know everything that’s going to happen to you? You’re out there in a warm little protected world where you know the exact outcome of everything that is said and done. You’ve got a script, baby! Now that’s got to be better than life!” Now she doesn’t have a script. Antony doesn’t like scripts. “You want to know what I’m filming?” he says “the truth” that’s what I’m filming. You can’t script the truth! You can’t direct the truth! The truth doesn’t have boundaries, it’s not limited by time and space. I let the truth happen –wherever, whenever, whatever – right there in front of the lens” “We’re farting about,” she says, “when do we pack up and go home?” They don’t pack up. They smoke more hashish. They find themselves sucked deeper into the alleyways and tunnels of the ancient city. The city’s past starts leaking through into their present. Seventeenth-century diarist Samuel Pepys works in London for the Admiralty and is responsible for sending money to Tangier to build a harbour and protect it from the barbarians. The city is part of the dowry of King Charles’ new queen, Catherine de Braganza. Pepys has been siphoning off funds for himself but his cover is about to be blown. He’s sent his brother-in-law Balthazar St Michel to Tangier to sort things out. Balthazar is a gross buffoon of a man but by keeping the inquiry in the family Pepys hopes he can cover up what he’s been doing. World War II counter-intelligence chief Colonel Codrington, code-named “Fishpaste” and based in Gibraltar, is busy setting up a clandestine radio station in a decrepit building in an alleyway off Tangier’s Petit Socco. He’s getting ready for the Allied invasion of North Africa. Then there’s Selene, a slave girl friend of the Pepys’; drunken and lewd Governor Piercy Kirke; a secret agent who likes to garrotte his enemies with a piece of piano wire; and numerous mysterious Moroccan musicians.
Contours of kif covered mountains carve the bruises on my knees / Waking sun pulls a clinging past through pine needles / They bury in the …
Mint tea: scalding hot, too sweet: / Suddenly, I know that I am In another universe. Stepping off of the Bismillah / (finally, God, f…
For as long as I’ve lived on this planet, / I’ve known no greater joy than childhood on it, / Long rides in the country with Mom, Dad and a…
Our scratched blue / Land Rover / aims at a sign / made from two arrows / with directions scribbled / in Arabic, pointing the way / for those w…
From a trip in the Pre-Sahara desert with my son who was then about seven. A land rich with history where science and mysticism blended in my mind.
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