"NICE ILLUSION"
Written by
	Oliver Benjamin and Jon Grode	
March 2001

© 2001 Impact Communications

N I C E   I L L U S I O N
Cast of Characters

Wilson – A newly-minted Buddhist convert. Just out of a long meditation study at a Thai monestary.

Douglas – Arch-duke of sleaze. In Thailand to screw everything in sight and generally give in to hedonistic temptation.

Poo – Tall and exotic prostitute who needs to hook to support her struggling peasant family.

Nit – Another prostitute

Doob – Thai Rastafarian, owner of Nice Illusion Rasta Café.

Mr. Song – Sharply dressed Thai pimp. Festooned with countless golden Buddha necklaces and tailored suits. He speaks largely in clichés and Western movie quotes.

Poo’s family – Earnest but hapless Thai peasants, dependent on Poo for their survival.

Horst – Owner of The Blitz Guest House. Cynical German who mistrusts everyone, especially his customers.

Two Female Backpackers - One is a hippie American, the other a hippie Englishwoman.

INTRO: Credits roll over reggae music (“Real Situation”). 
I. ext. nice illusion rasta café - night.
Open on a sign: Nice Illusion Rasta Café. TITLE says: Chiang Mai, Thailand.
We see a Jamaican-themed bar, peopled with hip young Thais and ragged backpackers all in search of temporary oblivion. 
Two pretty young backpackers walk into the bar. The camera follows them. They are in mid-conversation.
backpacker 1
Really? You’re a vegetarian? I’m a vegetarian too. That’s so cool.
backpacker 2
The body is the temple of the soul, innit?
backpacker 1
Right on.
They walk up to the bar. We see Doob, the young proprietor behind the bar, mixing drinks, dancing all the while. He has a joint in his mouth and enormous dreads. The two backpackers approach the bar.
backpacker 1
Hi! Do you have anything non-alcholic?
Doob smiles, pulls the joint out of his mouth and offers it to her. The backpackers look at each other and smile. Backpacker 1 accepts the joint and takes a strong drag.
Angle on DOUGLAS sitting at bar. He is long-haired, bleary but happy, clearly in his element. He drains the last of his beer, and at the moment he places the bottle on the bar, Doob takes the old one and places a fresh bottle on the same spot. Douglas, not missing a beat, raises the new bottle to his lips and drinks.
WILSON appears, sitting down in the empty seat next to him. He has a shaved head and a tranquil manner, greeting Doob with a bow and hands together, then turns to his friend. Douglas is happy to see him and they exchange a friendly hug.
Douglas
(motions to Doob) Hey Doob, get me a drink for my friend here. He’s been locked up for the past month. 

WilsOn
No thanks. Just a tall glass of water, please.

Douglas
I didn’t recognize you. What, did you get lice?

Wilson
No, man. All monks have to shave their hair off. Keeps us humble. 

Wilson takes glass of water from Doob.
Wilson
Thanks.

He sips the water mindfully then licks his lips. Pleased with the delicious liquid, he now finds in everything something glorious, even water.
Douglas
So how was it? Did you find what you were looking for?

Wilson (beaming) 
Oh yeah. I finally found peace of mind. Freedom from all these awful distractions. (indicating the bar) Freedom from desire. I sat alone on a hard floor for twelve hours a day contemplating nothing. And for the first time in my life I feel absolutely liberated.

Douglas
Weird!

Wilson
So, what you do while I was gone?

Douglas
Fucking, mostly.

Wilson
That’s it?

Douglas
No. I mixed it up a bit. The occasional blow-job. 

Wilson
Are you telling me you screwed a different girl every night?

Douglas
Oh no! No. One night I was too fucked up on opium to get it up.

Wilson
Weird.
Enter MR. SONG, picking his teeth with a golden toothpick. He sidles up next to Douglas.

Mr. Song
Wenkum to de Jungle. We’ve got fun and games.

Douglas
Hi, Mr. Song my good friend.

Mr. Song
What you want tonight, Mr. Douglas? The usual? Or you want to try what behind curtain number two? Lady? Or Boy? Or Ladyboy? You feeling lucky, punk?

Douglas
No, no. Tonight’s a special night. My friend just got out of the monestary. We’re going to take it easy.

Mr. Song
Oh. I unnastan. Take it easy. Peaceful easy feeling. Easy like Sunday morning.

Douglas
Yeah. Like that.

Mr. Song (to Wilson) 
You were in monestary? You like Buddha? I’m Buddhist. Look at all my Buddha necklaces. Solid gold. I’m down with Buddha. He’s my big bad homey number one.

Wilson
Gold Buddhas don’t make you a Buddhist. A golden heart does.

Mr. Song
Yeah? I’ve been searching for a heart of gold. But I’m getting old. You got one for sale? Ha! Hasta la vista, baby.
Mr. Song oozes away.
Wilson
That guy watches way too much American TV.

Douglas
Yeah.

Wilson
Are you friends with that guy?

Douglas
Not really. He’s more like my tour guide. Makes sure I get plenty of local color.
ENTER POO and NIT. They sidle up beside Douglas and Wilson respectively.
Douglas
And speak of the devils.

Poo
Hey hansom. You looking for a good time?

Douglas
Baby, I’m always looking for a good time.

Nit
What happen your hair?
Wilson
I’m a Buddhist monk.
Nit 
Not tonight you aren’t.
They all laugh. Wilson looks uncomfortable.

int. wilson’s room – night.
Wilson and Nit are talking. They sit on the floor, separated by a candle. Incense burns next to the candle. Soft Indian music is playing in the background.
Nit
How do you know Douglas?

Wilson
Oh, Doug and I have been friends for a long time. We worked together in the same restaurant near Cleveland. But, you know, we were really miserable there. It’s cold and dirty and expensive. So one day he read this magazine article about Thailand and got this idea that if we saved all our money for a few years we could come live here, where it’s warm and beautiful and cheap. He wanted to come here for the nightlife, and I wanted to come to learn Buddhism. So far we’ve both found exactly what we’ve been looking for.

Nit
You like Buddha? I’m Buddhist.

Wilson
Are you? Really? Well let me ask you this: have you ever meditated?
Nit
No. But I go to the temple and give donation.

Wilson
Then you’re not really Buddhist are you? Buddhism isn’t about money or donations. It’s exactly the opposite. It’s about learning to cleanse your soul and to let go of material desire.

Nit
What you mean “Material Desire?” You mean jiggy-jiggy?

Wilson
Yes. That too. Don’t you realize that you’re degrading yourself just for money? Is it really worth the extra cash you get to be a hooker? Isn’t your soul more important than that?

Nit
I guess so. I never really thought about it. 
She is silent for a moment and then starts to cry.
Wilson moves next to her and puts his arm around her, stroking her hair.
Nit
You mean you don’t care about money? You don’t care about things?

Wilson
I’d give it all away tomorrow. The soul is the most important thing.

Nit 
You a very great man.

Wilson
Aww. Thank you.
They hug once more.

Nit
Is it okay if I stay here tonight anyway? 

Wilson
Of course. I have an extra bed.

The camera pans up and over them and closes up on a Buddha image on the wall. Camera goes “through” the wall to enter on Douglas’ room. 
INT. DOUGLAS’ ROOM – NIGHT.
The Indian music changes abruptly to Funky porno music as we see Douglas and Poo on their bed, covered by a blanket and fucking wildly. In contrast with Wilson’s room, Douglas’ is filled with colored lights, disco balls, and clothes strewn everywhere. The camera continues its wild helicopterish ride over them as we hear:

Poo
Oh Mr. Douglas! Mr. Douglas!

Douglas
Unh! Uhn! Uhn!

The camera closes in on a pin up of a seminude Thai girl on the wall and fades out on her smirking face.

INT. DOUGLAS’ ROOM – early morning
Douglas wakes up with his arm around Poo.

Douglas
Wow. I’m still alive.

Poo puts her ear to his heart and listens.

Poo
Yes, you are.

Douglas
Wow, I’ve had a lot of lays in my life, but that was the first time I ever saw God.

Poo
I’m happy. I haven’t been doing this for very long. I was worried you might not be satisfied.

Douglas
I can’t remember the last time I was satisfied.

Poo
I have to go now.

Douglas
Where are you going? 
He grabs her arm.
Poo
I have to get back to my family. They live out in the countryside.

Douglas
Well, you know, I normally don’t get out of bed before noon, but - what the hell, let me take you home.
Poo
Sure?

Douglas
Sure.

Int. wilson’s room – morning.

Wilson wakes up to the sound of birds chirping. Sits up, yawns and stretches. He gets out of bed and looks around. Pull back to reveal a totally empty room. Nit is gone, and so is all his stuff.

Wilson (to himself): 
Okay. Calm. Breathe. (he begins looking around) Okay. Where’s all my stuff? Calm. Breathe. Where’s my pants? Where’s the wallet that was in my pants? (he gets more frantic, trying to maintain composure. Finally he breaks.) FUCK! (regains composure) Calm. Breathe. 

He drops down onto the floor.

int. hallway of guest house – morning.
Wilson, knocks on Douglas’ door. He is wearing a tank top, dress shoes without any socks and a towel wrapped around his waist. First he raps gingerly and controlled. But after there is no answer, his knocking becomes a furious pounding.

Wilson
Open up! Douglas! Goddamn it! Let me in.

Horst (o.c., German accent): 
What ze fuck are you doing? People are still sleeping here!

Enter HORST, a bespeckled, wiry German. He is the Guest House owner and salty as hell.

Wilson
Sorry. Sorry, man. The thing is, I just got robbed by a prostitute. I need to talk to my friend.

Horst (furious) 
You brought a prostitute home with you? Don’t you know ze rules? No fucking prostitutes!

Horst points to a sign on the wall. It reads: 1) No Prostitutes, 2) No Drugs, 3) Don’t Mention the War.

Wilson
But I didn’t fuck her.

Horst
You vere robbed by a prostitute you didn’t even fuck? Zen you are a really stupid man. Now you have no money and no place to stay. Get out. Snell! Snell! Fucking Americans!
ext. street in front of guest house – morning.
Horst escorting Wilson to the front gate of THE BLITZ GUEST HOUSE. He pushes him out, shaking his fist. Wilson is standing alone in the early morning light. He looks both ways, unsure of what to do. He is still dressed in a towel, tank top and dress shoes with no socks.
ext. thai countryside - day
Enter on beautiful mountain road. A motorcycle comes riding up through the paddy fields. Close up on the happy couple as they ride, her arms around him, Douglas smiling and laughing.
They pull up in front of a ramshackle teak house. A bunch of half-naked kids are playing out front. A montage of scenes of Douglas and the family meeting and playing ensues. One of the scenes shows Poo giving her mother a wad of cash. The mother is very happy and looks even proud. Happy-go-lucky music plays in the background.
int. poo’s house - day
Poo and Douglas sitting on the verandah, drinking tea and talking.

Douglas
So, where’s your father. At work?

Poo
No. He died last year. Mom’s been sick since he died, so I’ve had to take care of my brothers and sisters.

Douglas
How can you take care of them if you’re in the city all the time?

Poo
That’s why I’m in the city. That’s why I do what I do.
Angle on Douglas, taking all this in.

ext. chiang mai street – day.
A line of orange-clad monks are walking down the street. They stop at various shops to receive alms from the shopowners. As the last one passes, we see Wilson hurrying to catch up. He is in a white tanktop and a towel. Cacophonous Thai traditional music plays in the background and throughout this and the following two scenes.
	
The monks are all given food, and finally Wilson approaches and places his alms-bowl in front of the shopowner. In contrast to the monks’ nice black bowls, Wilson’s is plastic and shoddy-looking.
The Thai woman starts barking something unintelligible and waves her hand for him to go away. He mopes off.
ext. outside a café – day.
A café open to the street. A couple of backpackers get up to leave from their table, leaving a half-eaten sandwich. We hear some hurried footsteps as Wilson enters, looks around and grabs the sandwich, hurrying off.

ext. a city park – day.
Wilson asleep in a park. The wind blows his towel off, revealing him laying only in jockey shorts, his dress shoes still on. Thai people walk by, shaking their heads in disgust.

int. nice illusion rasta café – night.
ANGLE ON: Wilson, sitting at the bar, a glass of water in front of him. He is compulsively, nervously munching from the bowl of free peanuts.

Wilson
Hey Doob! More peanuts!

Douglas comes in, his arm around Poo. Sits next to Wilson.

Douglas
Hey man! How was your day? You look a bit worn out. Have a rough night last night? (Nudges him in the ribs playfully)

Wilson
Where have you been, man? I’ve been looking for you all day. That bitch stole all my stuff! I’m fucked. What am I gonna do?

Douglas
Hey man, don’t worry. I’ll help you out. How ‘bout I loan you a couple hundred? That should get you through the next week or so. That’ll give you time to come up with a plan.

He takes some bills out of his wallet and stuffs them in Wilson’s shirt pocket.

Wilson
Thanks man, you’re a real savior. (Pause) I don’t know about this place, though. These people aren’t really Buddhists. I don’t know what they are. I was thinking - what do you think about going somewhere else? I heard Tibet’s good this time of year.

Douglas
Tibet? I don’t know man. Hey, listen. I just stopped by to let you know that I’m taking Poo down to a little holiday on the beach. We’ll be gone a couple of weeks. Why don’t you lay low until I come back and we’ll talk about it then.

Wilson 
(sighs) Yeah. That’s cool man. You go have some fun.

Douglas
All right, bro.
They hug. 

Poo
Bye.

Wilson
See ya.
There is a kind of desperation in Wilson’s eyes as he watches them leave. 

Enter Mr. Song. He oozes up to the bar, staring with a shit-eating grin at Wilson.
Wilson (annoyed) 
Can I help you?

Mr. Song
The question is, my friend: Can I help you? 
Mr. Song SNAPS his fingers.
We break into a surreal musical number, with Mr. Song on stage. Sexy chicks sing backup and dance in the background. He is a perfect Thai Tom Jones.
MR. song (cont.)
Lean on me. When you not strong. I be your friend. I help you to carry on. 
backup singers
(leaning on Mr Song) Lean on me.
MR. SONG (cont.)
For, it won’ be long, till you gonna need somebody to lean on.

There is an audible record SCRATCH as we return to reality. Wilson has Mr. Song by the lapels, is furious.
Wilson
Fuck, off!

Mr. Song
Okay. I’ll-be-back. Ha ha ha…

Mr. Song leaves. Wilson turns to Doob.

Wilson
What an asshole. Hey Doob, another glass of water please.

Doob brings him a glass of water. He sarcastically places a cocktail umbrella in it.

Wilson
Thanks.

Doob
Hey mon, I heard you’re a little strapped for cash.

Wilson
Yeah.

Doob
You a gambling man?

Wilson
No, not really.

Doob
You a good man?

Wilson
What do you mean?

Doob
You good?

Wilson
(pause) Yeah. I’m a good man.

Doob
Well, don’t you believe in karma? Don’t you believe good things come to good people?

Wilson
Sure I do. I’m a Buddhist.

Doob
Then how can you lose?

Angle on Wilson’s face, deep in thought.

int. back room of nice illusion – night.
Three Thai rastas and Wilson are sitting at a table playing cards. They are playing High-low. Wilson is winning all his hands. Beaming with confidence, he feels invulnerable. The Thais are amazed at his good luck.
Imbued with confidence, Wilson suddenly pushes the entire pile of money to the center. The Thais gasp. He pulls a card. It is a queen. His face registers shock.

The Thais
Low, Low, Low!
But Doob’s eyes roll back into his head and he turns around to glance at a giant poster of Emperor Haile Selassie. Smiling, he reaches for a card.
Doob
High.
The Thais gasp and scream their disapproval. Doob picks up the card to reveal a king, and without even looking at it, breaks into a broad grin. 
Doob
High! Ha ha ha ha...
The Thais cheer “High!”, passing joints around, laughing and slapping high-fives.
Fade to Black.

ext. thai marketplace – day.
Title: Two Weeks Later
A Thai market during the afternoon. Lots of shots of people hawking fruit, food and clothing. We see Douglas and Poo hand in hand walking through the market, shopping for things. 
They enter a jewelry shop and Douglas buys her a ring. She can’t contain her excitement and throws her arms around Douglas. They are clearly in it for the long haul.
They walk down the sidewalk, past tables of merchandise.
poo
We have to tell Wilson the good news.
Douglas
I haven’t seen him. I guess he took off to Tibet. Willy’s really hungry for some kind of salvation. I sure hope he finds it.
poo
So do I. Oh, wait a second.
Poo notices a hunched-over beggar on the sidewalk next to them. She drops some coins in his bowl. They walk on.
The clanging sound wakes the beggar up. He raises his head to look. It is Wilson. He is unable to speak, in a wretched state, and just looks imploringly after them. Then his head starts to nod downwards. 
A hand reaches down in front of him, offering assistance. It is bathed in holy light. We hear the MUSIC of angels.
Wilson looks up and takes the hand. The helper’s second hand comes around to grasp it, and we see it is full of garish rings. The helper pulls Wilson up to his feet. It is Mr. Song.
Mr. Song 
I told you I’d be back.
Wilson limps down the street with Mr. Song, his head resting on the pimp’s shoulder. The camera pulls away.
Mr. Song (cont.)
Mr. Wilson, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Mr. Song’s hand slides down Wilson’s back and pats him affectionately on the ass. Wilson doesn’t seem to care. 
Camera continues panning away to reveal the marketplace and all its bustling denizens. 
Fade to black.