As a bonus, since this is week #1 that I'm posting here – enjoy the next scene.
INT. TRAIN--FREDDIE'S PRIVATE CAR - EVENING
SUBTITLE: Italy, 1980.
We start on FREDERICK TRUMPER, a somewhat brash, yet pensive man in his mid-20s with a bit of a playful streak about him. He wears a denim jacket with a button that proclaims "I am a CHESS champion!" He sits across from a custom built chess- playing computer that takes up the other chair entirely. A soft string variation on "The Story of Chess" plays in the background, and just as a flute trills, the computer starts whirring.
COMPUTER
Knight to D-5.
Freddie moves the computer's piece on the board accordingly and immediately responds.
FREDDIE
(under his breath; typing the move on the keyboard)
Bishop A-5 - Check.
He hears a brief spurt of noise from outside the car as FLORENCE VASSY enters, now late-20s. We catch a glimpse of her as he jumps out of his seat. She is somewhat tall, dark-haired, brilliant, shapely - the kind of woman a man would defect from his country for. She holds a stack of newspapers close to her chest.
FREDDIE
(continuing; gleaming)
Florence!
FLORENCE
(smirking back at him)
Well, we can't complain /That you're being ignored by the press!
She tosses the stack of papers onto his cot, but holds onto the top one. Freddie excitedly rushes over to peruse the headlines. Florence stops him and keeps the paper behind her back.
FREDDIE
(flirting; reaching around her)
What'd they say? What'd they say?!
She grabs his arm and places it on her hip; he draws her near, as though for a kiss.
FLORENCE
(smirking)
They're not too polite...
FREDDIE
(raising an eyebrow)
They say I'm a shit?
She turns quickly to her right.
FLORENCE
Well, yes...they pulled you to pieces -
She unfolds the paper and presents him the New York Post headline. CU on the front page, which boasts an impromptu photograph of Freddie at JFK airport and reads boldly, "LOUDMOUTH RISING."
FLORENCE
- in five different languages!
Freddie gleams and pecks her on the cheek; she lets him pass. The two begin to dig through the pile on the bed.
FLORENCE
(continuing; unfolding another paper and handing it to Fredddie)
Oh! the Daily Mail - "You thrive on unpleasantness!"
He chuckles; she reaches for another paper.
FLORENCE
Le Monde - "Freddie Trumper: Le honte des échecs."
FREDDIE
(as he digs)
I don't believe /That they can't see my game! / I'm like that tennis player -
(pauses; snaps his fingers)
What's his name? / They love to hate me /And for us - That's dollars!
Freddie picks up another newspaper and begins reading an article. It catches his attention.
FLORENCE
(reading another headline)
Die Welt: "Trumper Der Grössliche Skandal des Schachs"
FREDDIE
Hey, look, here's a piece /That some idiot's written on you! "Florence Vassy, ravishing Hungarian-born Princeton princess - His gentle companion..." Ha! If they only knew...
FLORENCE
What do you mean?
(tackling Freddie; knocking him back onto the cot)
I'm always gentle with you, Freddie!
She gets off of him, but FREDDIE pulls her back towards him. They read the article together.
FREDDIE & FLORENCE
"She stands by her champion..."
FREDDIE
(raising an eyebrow)
I like this...
FLORENCE & FREDDIE
"...whose demands are so infantile -"
Freddie takes the paper and crumples it up.
FREDDIE
I don't like this.
He throws the paper down. Florence gets off of the bed.
FLORENCE
(turning to him)
If you don't like it, /Then it's up to you.
She extends her hand; he takes it and gets off the bed.
FLORENCE
They like the Russian, /They could like you too.
FREDDIE
Commie newspapers... /Of course, the bastards all support the Russian.
FLORENCE gives him a peck on the lips.
FLORENCE
But Sergievsky seems a sweet opponent /So why do you abuse him all the time?
FREDDIE
Alright, then – when have I ever abused him?
FLORENCE
Not sure... How many press conferences have you given since he was announced as your challenger?
FREDDIE
(poking her nose)
Specifics, kicsi lanykam.
FLORENCE
(chuckling)
God, I wish I'd never given you that Hungarian dictionary.
FREDDIE
(mock-conceitedly)
Why? Because I know more than you now?
WALTER DE COURCEY, a late-middle-aged man in a slick grey suit, enters the car carrying a khaki-colored trenchcoat under his arm.
FLORENCE
Look, just because I (was born there) -
WALTER
(interrupting)
Freddie, how is everything!
FREDDIE
(turns to Walter; dryly)
You tell me.
WALTER
Look, we'll be in Merano soon. Your game up to speed?
FREDDIE
(gesturing to the computer)
According to that thing, it is. But I'm not sure how much I'd trust it.
WALTER
Trust me – IBM can keep up with your skills.
FREDDIE
I don't think in punch cards, Walter.
WALTER
Maybe it's the right way to think.
Freddie shoots him a bewildered look.
WALTER
(continuing)
Or not. You probably know more about this game than I do.
(Beat.)
All right, I'll get it replaced.
FLORENCE
No, you won't. You'll just get rid of it.
WALTER
Excuse me. IBM's offering a sizable sum to test out their chess programs, and –
FLORENCE
(curtly)
And we can tell them they're sub-par. Thank you. Good-bye.
WALTER
Right...
(to Freddie)
Just remember to smile for the cameras. Will ya, Freddie?
(to Florence)
And you stay a few steps behind him at all times. We don't want the conservatives tuning out on us.
FLORENCE
(smiling with a vengeance)
Of course.
Walter walks away.
WALTER (O.S.)
(from the doorway)
Forty-five minutes, Freddie!
FREDDIE
Thank you!
(turning to FLORENCE)
I'm sorry about -
FLORENCE
Christ, Freddie, you've been apologizing for him since Karpov. When are you going to get rid of him?
Freddie walks back to the cot and sits.
FREDDIE
I can't – you know I owe him.
She slides onto the cot behind him and starts rubbing his shoulders.
FREDDIE
(continuing)
And you...I really owe you.
FLORENCE
How about a quick game, then? I'll give you more of a challenge than that machine.
FREDDIE
(smiling)
Sure.
He gets off the bed. The two walk over to the chessboard.
FLORENCE
You're making me yearn for the college days... The private life.
FREDDIE
(sitting down)
Private lives are bliss.
Florence opens the game; the two play off of each other organically.
FADE TO:
INT. MOSCOW AIRPORT – AEROFLOT GATE