Memoria (2015) Script

Where have you been?

You're supposed to be home by six o'clock, Ivan.

We talked about it.

Sorry.

...Your hair is all Wet.

You went swimming?

How many times did I tell you not to go swim in the...

See?

You now getting sick.

So Ivan.

I was thinking that maybe Sunday after church, you and I go on out there, work on that oar.

Sure.

You say thank you.

Thank you.

I think that it's time we start teaching you a couple of basic skills they don't teach in school.

That's what I think.

You excited?

Yes.

Important that ya, that ya work hard.

And ya do all your homework and do good in school, all that stuff like that, you understand?

Yes.

See, son.

If you help me fix this up, see, then when you're old enough, you can drive it yourself.

So here.

Take this Wrench.

Stand right here.

Gimme both hands.

Put it right on there.

Get in there, now.

Hold on to that.

All right.

Now, turn it.

Turn it!

No!

You turned it the wrong Way.


My real father is from Moscow.

He was a soldier in the Russian army.

My mom says I look a lot like him, which I think is really cool.

When I was five, he went back to Russia.

And the only thing he left me was his military jacket.

I wear it all the time.

Boom!

Bang!

I'm going down!

I'm going down!

I'm going down!

Oh!

Not today!

Ivan!

Get in bed!

There are only two or three things people talk about with me...

My blond hair, my pale skin, and my jacket.

I got all those things from my father.


Hold on.

I forgot my textbooks.

Our table's occupied.

Hurry up.

We're gonna be late for student council.


Dollar fifty.

What's up?

Hey Ivan, Nina.

Hey, Alex.

Hey.

Dude, what happened to your eye?

Nothing, man.

These fucking assholes jumped me.

Dude, that's fucking gnarly.

Fuck yeah.

Who did it?

What?

Who did it?

I don't know.

Older guys.

You took it like a pussy, huh?

No, man.

You probably would.

Shut up, pussy.

Dude, look.

Kelly's DTF, man.

What does that even fucking mean?

Down to fuck, retard.

Shut the fuck up.

Hey, Kelly!

Alex wants to fuck you!

Shut the fuck up, Nina!

She can fucking hear you.

Why you all nervous all of a sudden?

Yeah.

I'd totally fuck her, dude.

What's wrong with you?

Yeah fucking right.

You wouldn't even know where to put it in.

Hey, bro.

Let's just invite Kelly to Simon's after.

Going swimming.

Hey.

Hey.

What's up, ladies?

Aren't I, Kelly?

I don't know.

What are you guys doing later?

I don't know.

I got homework.

Why?

You guys wanna come to Simon's and go for a swim?

Simon's not here.

His family's in Cancun.

Exactly.

Come on!

You can come with us.

It's gonna be fun.

I got homework to do too.

You got homework.

We won't stay too late.

All right.

Yeah.

Just come get us when you're ready.

All right.

By the way, you're cute.

You even been to this place?

Neither have you, fucker.

Wanna go?

Wanna go?

Hey.

Hold my board.

Simon's got a fucking dope pad.


What'd ya think?

It's not that special.

Come on.

You just gotta get used to it.

Guys!

I've got two beers!

They're, like, really bad for you.

Come on.

Take a puff.

Oh my god.


It's 10 o'clock, Ivan.

You're late.

Yeah.

How come?

I don't know.

'Cause.


Hey, faggot-

Ivan, you're late.

Seven minutes.

And I'm not giving you extra time for the test.

Ivan.

Shh.

Kelly, you so pretty.

You Kelly.

You're so beautiful.

Ivan?

Ivan, where are you going?


How are ya?

I'm fine.

You want to go hunting with me this Weekend?

OK.

OK.

I'm only gonna tell you this one time.

Do not smoke in my house ever again.


Come on, son!

Stay there.


No, no, no.

Come on.

Come on.

You surprised me.

Hey.

Shoot it.

Ivan.

Shoot the deer.


You're not gonna see your father again.

You know that, right?


Your stories were very good.

I liked them a lot.

At the end, you can pick them up after class over here.

OK?

Ivan.

Thank you for joining us.

I was beginning to lose hope.

Ivan.

Sit the fuck down, bro.

All right.

You almost made it.

You're good to pick up your stories.

Hey, Ivan.

Hey.

Why are you always late to class?

I mean, you missed the entire class.

I forgot about class.

You forgot.

Maybe you shouldn't smoke so much weed.

Oh.

OK.

Can we talk about your story?

Then the boy with the burned face took his father's machete, which he took from a guy he killed in Vietnam, and began cutting letters in his chest, all the While looking into a mirror to make sure he was precise and slow.

Ivan, do you need to talk about anything?

It's fictional.

Don't, don't worry.

OK.

But you know if you need to talk about anything, you can...

OK, Mr. Wyckoff.

OK.

Suck dick, ball lickers.

Last night I got some pussy from your buff, brawn sister.

Her pussy tasted like malt liquor.

She was running.

And I'm tripping.

All right, scrawny ass.

I got good luck.

Ivan went and fucked your sister in her butt.

Fuck you.

That's one a chick will never do.

Your dick is mini me.

Mine's 7'2".

Uh.

Yeah.

I'm sad for you.

I bring it on like a good one, too.

No.

No?

Fucking quit that shit.

Yo.

Are you kidding me'?

You shouldn't even rhyme.

Ivan.

You didn't fucking rhyme.

What the fuck...

I rhyme plenty, dude.

You missed me lay this dude out.

Yo.

How we getting to Santa Cruz, yo?

We'll take my mom's car.

Wait, wait.

You're... you all are going to Santa Cruz?

Yeah.

What for'?

Fucking party, man.

What do you think?

Dude.

Let me come.

No fucking way, man.

What?

Fuck you.

You said Ivan can come.

Yeah.

Well, there's a list.

It's invite only.

Are you kidding me'?

Bullshit.

I'm not fucking kidding, man.

Fuck you guys.

Plus you're disgusting and ugly.

So no, you can't come.

Are you kidding me'?

Shut up, pizza face.

Hey.

You got pepperoni left on your cheeks.

You're like... you's fucking.

Hey.

Watch this.

Thanks, dog.

Aw.

Dude.

You're working with some crust there, man.

Do not shake it like that.

Why don't you pick it up for me?

Bull crap.

No way.

Can you pick up my skateboard?

No, dude.

Fucking pick up my fucking skateboard.

No.

I'm not picking up your skateboard.

Oh.

You wanna play'?

Yeah?

Let's go!

Do you wanna fucking do this?

Yeah.

I'm gonna bark at you, baby.

Back the fuck up.

You gonna get me?

Yeah!

Whoa'.!

Damn it!

Let me go!

Fuck!

Let me go!

Fuck y'all for picking me up.

I had him!

Ah!

Fuck!

This is exactly why he's not coming to Santa Cruz.

I'm leaving!

Hey dude.

What the fuck?

That's my fucking board.


Hey.

Hey.

What's up?

Nothing.

What happened?

Nothing.

Are you OK?

Yeah.

I'm just a little tired.

Do you wanna get high?

Sure.

Yes.

Now class, once you make the primary incision, fold the skin back so that you can begin to identify the fetal pig's vital organs with the pens.

Do we have to touch it with our hands?

Yes.

Get over it.

...Alex, you're fucking gross.

Oh dude.

You're fucking gross.

Oh my god.

Ew.

Oh.

You want some of this?

Only if you eat some first.

Alex.

Fuck you.

Pig doing some dancing.

Oh shit.

Dude.

It's going all over.

It's going all over.

Break dancing pig.

Get to work.

Hey, Natasha.

Don't you think this kind of looks like lvan's skin?

Ivan.

Are your balls this pale and dirty, too?

Why don't you just shut up?

Get back to work.

Mr. Cohen?

Yeah.

Miss.

Can you tell him to stop distracting me?

I'm trying to do some science.

Hi, Mrs. Fontaine.

Calm down.

Can I interrupt the class for a second?

What is it, Ashley?

Hi, Ashley.

Calm down.

Are you doing the homework?

Mrs. Fontaine, I'm sorry to interrupt.

I need to bring Mr. Alex Dratch to the principal's office.

Oh shit.

Mr. Dratch.

Mr. Dratch!

Alex?

Wait.

Please follow Ashley to the principal's office.

What?

Why?

So, how are you today, Mr. Dratch?

Suck my dick, Miss Ashley.

Mr. Dratch?

Mr. Dratch?

Ow.

Geez.

Sit down, Alex.

Were you present at the fight that occurred during break between Chris Dawson and Ryan Silver?

Yeah.

Yeah.

I was there.

And?

And it was bad.

I don't know.

But you didn't try to stop the fight from happening.

No.

I mean, not exactly.

You didn't do anything.

Being a bystander is the same as being a bully.

And we have a zero tolerance policy for that here.

You dropped your pen, sir.

Yeah.

I see that.

So Alex told me that last year you sharted in science class.

He did not say that!

I swear to God.

Don't try to deny it.

Fucking Alex said that.

He said he was there.

When did he tell you that?

I'm gonna fucking kick his ass.

Cigarettes make you fart, you know.

You don't want to shart yourself again.

I know you're prone to sharting.

Girls don't fart.

You're aware of that, right?

Yeah they do.

Girls don't fart.

Yes they do.

They don't shit.

The only reason that girls have asses...

Girl farts...

Are because they look good.

Girl farts are the worst 'cause they save them up, you know, for years.

Oh god.

And they finally release them.

I'm gonna call you Sharty from now on.

You're a dick.

Shart face.

I'll call you virgin.

I'm not a virgin.

Virgin something.

I'm not a virgin.

You are a fucking virgin.

No.

I'm not.

Prove me Wrong on that.

I fucked a bunch of chicks.

Yeah?

Tell me about the first time you had sex.

No.

I want to know every detail.

And if you don't give me every detail, you're a fucking virgin.

Too bad.

And that's gonna be your...

I'm not gonna help you...

Nickname forever.

I'm not gonna help you get off on my virginity so just...

Gimme a drag of your cigarette.

Have you ever gone down on a girl before?

Of course I am.

I'm the master of that.

Really?

Really?

What's your technique then?

I sing La La Bamba.

You know that song?

You just, you just mouth the words of La Bamba.

La Bamba'?

You know.

Ba Ba Ba la la bamba.

See.

You've obviously never been with someone who knows the words of La Bamba, or else you'd be telling me a completely fucking different story then.

Yeah.

Really?

So if a guy goes down on me and sings para la bamba, my world's gonna change?

If someone la bambas you, you'll shit yourself.

Ugh!

Where the fuck do you sit around and come up with this in your head?

You have no life.

You just sit around and think of shit like this all day.

Think about it while I'm fucking chicks.

Ow!

Oh shit.

You Wanna hit of this?

Hell yeah, man.

Hey.

What's up?

Hey.

Kiss my little buddy, man.

Fuck you, dude.

You're fucking gay.

Get out of my face.

I'm eating.

I am eating right now.

Hey.

Dude.

I fucking took the hit for you in Schmidt's office today.

So why don't you shut the fuck up?

It didn't help.

I still got suspended.

Oh.

You got suspended, dude?

Somebody's getting that ass whooped.

Yeah.

Except not you because your morn doesn't really give a shit 'cause she's a stripper.

I saw her dancing, man.

I'd completely fuck her.

Hey.

I'd fuck her too if she wasn't my mom.

What?

Can't say shit like that.

Some mother fuckers just cross the line.

All right.

Ivan, I got a big surprise for you.

It's an early birthday present.

Don't bring that shit near me, man.

No.

Oh.

Is that gonna fit?

No.

No.

No.

Fuck.

No way.

No way.

I made it too small.

Smell it.

Damn, Alex.

It looks fucking nice.

Thank you.

I'll make you one.

Oh.

What's up, man?

Hey, man.

Good.

Shut up, Simon.

You didn't see her dance.

Oh Dickey.

What's up?

What's up, dog?

Yo.

There he is.

Got some shit for you guys.

All right.

Oh, sweet.

Some gnarly acid.

Hey.

How much do you want for that?

10 bucks a hit.

All right.

Everyone's got 10?

Oh, shit.

That'll do.

Whoa.

Dude!

What the fuck are you doing, man?

Dude.

No.

No.

No.

The whole deal was that you're driving us tonight.

OK?

So you can't be fucked up on acid when you're driving my mom's car.

So you better not fuck it up.

OK?

Man.

Fuck you guys.

Fuck you.


God!

Shit!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Chris, what the fuck, man?

It's not fucking funny, dude.

It's my mom's fucking car.

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Shit!

Fuck!

You guys all right?

Hey!

Hey, Max!

Wake the fuck up, man!

Hey.

You all right?

Shut the fuck up.

I don't fucking know.

Dude, what happened?

I don't fucking know.

Can someone please just go fucking check?

Hey dude.

Are you all right?

Your fucking neck is bleeding.

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

I just hit my head.

What the fuck did we hit'?

I don't, I fucking don't know.

Can someone please go check?

Did we fucking hit somebody?

Fuck you!

It's not fucking funny.

We got in a fucking accident.

Did you take the fucking acid?

You're fucking stupid, man.

You could've fucking killed us.

Oh my god.

What is it?

What?

Oh shit!

Fuck, dude!

Chill out man.

What happened?

Fuck!

Oh fuck!

No.

God dammit, man.

Fuck!

Fucking idiot, man.

You're so fucking stupid.

What the fuck is your problem?

The thing isn't fucking funny.

It's gonna be fucking freezing.

Not fucking funny, man.

The fuck is that?

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

Was that like a deer or something?

Where did it go'?


So what'd your mom say?

I don't know.

I didn't go home last night.

The fuck.

Where'd you go?

I went to the car and slept there.

Did you talk to Ivan today?

Nope.

Why?

Just such a fucking creep, man.

Whole thing last night's so weird.

Yeah.

Going to Byron's thing?

Hell yeah.

We should go together.

All right.

So John Berryman.

He is what is called a confessional poet.

As an assignment, we're gonna something a little creative next week.

You will all read his poem Dream Song 29 and then write your own poem in that style.

Your poem must be confessional.

That means something from your own life, your own individual experiences.

I'm expecting dirt, people.

Do you wanna get out of here after this?

Yeah.

Let's get the fuck outta here.

Hey.

Don't forget.

Dream Song number 29.

It'll be fun.

In your books.

We'll see ya.

Have a good weekend, guys.

Everything all right?

Ivan?

Hey, Ivan!

Ivan.

Mr. Wyckoff?

Hey.

Why'd you ignore me?

You wanna tell me what's going on?

Nothing.

Just using the bathroom.

Ivan.

I'm worried about you.

Your grades.

You've hardly been in class this semester.

What are you doing here, Mr. Wyckoff?

All right.

I know growing up can be difficult.

Maybe you don't have someone to talk to.

So I just, I want you to know that you can talk to me.

Ivan.

I don't want your help.

And I really don't think you should be here, Mr. Wyckoff.

Ivan.


I'm seriously gonna smoke weed for the rest of my life.

Every time I smoke, I feel like I'm, I wanna go back to a place that I really liked or, like, a night that I felt really good.

Do you know what I mean?

Do you remember when you and I used to come out here every day after school?

Yes.

That I do remember.

Man, I wanted to be so good like Alex and Max.

I was always so fucking afraid of falling.

Did you know I even used to scratch up the bottom of my board to make it look like I could do tricks?

...That is so fuck, that is so fucking lame, Ivan.

What the?

Why the fuck would you do that?

Those guys are such dicks.

You shouldn't care what they think so much.

I don't fucking care what they think.

Hey.

Hey.

Ivan!

Are you going to Byron's party tonight?

I don't know.

I'm pretty tired.

Come on.

You have to go and say bye to everyone.

All right.

I guess I'll swing by for a little bit.

Maybe you'll finally get laid.

Fuck off!

Hey.

Ivan.

Ivan!

So are you stalking me now?

Look.

I just wanted to say, if I was coming on too strong, I'm sorry.

I'm just trying to help.

Don't worry about it, man.

I was pretty rude to you.

Just wanna make sure you're gonna be OK.

Yeah.

I'm fine.

Look.

Ah.

Sorry if I haven't really been at class lately.

It's just been tough.

I like the class.

It's just I got a lot on my mind, you know?

Well, maybe you should write about it.

Look.

I know high school can be tough sometimes.

But you're failing my class.

You've only handed in one assignment all semester.

Yeah.

I know.

I don't know.

I just...

Ivan, you're a creative guy.

You've got a lot to say.

I think you should take advantage of it.

I mean, not everyone has that talent.

Yeah.

Sure.

Listen.

The Berryman project's due Monday.

If you hand this in on time, if you really try to write what you're feeling, then I'll let you pass.

And you'll graduate with your friends.

So I'll see ya Monday?

On time?

Sure.


I have this memory of my father taking me to Mirana Lake to go swimming.

But I can't remember if this really happened or not.

I keep forgetting if the things in my memory happened for real.

Maybe our memories are just a collection of things we wish happened.

Quiet scream is an oxymoron.

Very good.

But I Want the definition.

I wanted to pick the blonde girl up and take her out somewhere.

We drive off naked, heads spinning to the beat of windows smashing, cars crashing in the distance.

We coast along an endless road between forests and lakes.

The wind smells of pine trees.

Inky black silence.

We devour each other like creatures.

Animals staring back at us.

Down a mountain into nothing.

If she knew what was going through my head, she'd think I was crazy.

When I turn 18, I want to get on a bus to San Francisco and never come back.

I want to be surrounded by millions of people I've never seen who've never seen me.

I want to be a man who sings from rooftops, who disappears into dark, winding streets drowned out by fading lights and hollow steel.

I want to retrace the footsteps of my father, get lost in dive bars where I sit and drink until morning.

A tattooed chick offers me a cigarette.

And I take her home.

She speaks a different language.

Can't pronounce her name.

But I'm in love.

I want to lose my virginity to a stranger on a dirty bed.

She says she has to go.

And I never see her again.

An old man lives next door to me.

The walls are so thin, I can hear him crying.

I can never figure out why.

It keeps me up at night.

With each passing clay, my memories fade.

Voices become echoes.

And faces disappear.

Hey.

Hey.

Ooh.

Babe.

Babe.

We should do... we should do taco night.

OK.

We can do that.

I wonder how quickly will my friends forget me, too.

You OK, Ivan?

Yeah.

I'm fine.

And my dad?

Has he done the same?

Am I only a passing thought to him?

A name he has forgotten?

Or does he feel lonely?

Does he wander aimlessly, floating past street lights, wishing he could come home?

I don't want to run from the things I know.

I'm tired of my feet searching for things I'll never find.

I want to be a man who howls from rooftops, a man without fear.


$1.99.

You can keep the change.


So get this.

What if your whole life was, like, on video tapes?

You know what I'm saying?

Like, a bunch of video tapes and when you die, you go to this room.

And you have to watch all of the tapes over again.

Nah, man That would suck.

Oh yeah.

'Cause you'd just have to sit there and watch your whole life.

And all this shit would happen.

And like, you just couldn't even do anything about it.


Hey, Tyson.

Do you guys wanna go and check out the show?

No.

I'm gonna hit this.

Sticky sticky.

You got it.

Get me a B?


Hey.

Oh.

What's up?

...How do you like the band?

Ah.

They're all right.

Hey.

Can I bum a cigarette?

Yeah.

Dude.

It's so weird to think that we're all moving on.

Pretty soon, we're all gonna go our own separate ways.

I have a plan.

Yeah?

We should run off and do something fun.

Like What?

I don't know, like, rob a bunch of banks, live in a mansion, party all the time, live the dream.

Yeah.

Sounds pretty fun, actually.

And you know why I want you to be the guy to come with me?

Because I believe in you.

I believe in you!

Thanks.

You're welcome.

Will you fuck me up?

Ivan!

Ivan!

OK, Ivan.

What the fuck?

We're friends.

What do you mean, what the fuck?

No.

Obviously not.

What are you talking about?

Ivan, I wasn't flirting with you.

You're always leading me on.

...What are you talking about?

That... dude.

This isn't you.

Come on.

You have no fucking clue who I am.

Are you... OK.

Ivan...

Stop.

Stop!

Stop treating me like I'm your little brother.

OK.

Maybe you're hurt.

But this isn't fair.

You know that right?

Fuck you.

Fuck you.

You know what?

I do feel sorry for you.

Yeah.

Fuck off.

Good luck in whatever it is you do, Ivan.

Whatever, bitch.

Asshole.


Ivan!

Did you just take my beer?

Nah, man.

This is mine.

No.

This is mine.

Shit.

Why don't you fuck off, you fat fuck?

Fat fuck?

Did you just call me a fat fuck?

Yeah.

That's for taking my fucking beer!

What?

Oh my god.

Ivan?

Ivan.

Ivan!