14ed79ad4d7dbda55c43a696dc1366a71605ac58
movie
http://www.imsdb.com/scripts/August-Osage-County.html
AUGUST : OSAGE
FADE TO BLACK
 The title designates time and location: an unusually hot August in a rural area outside Pawhuska, Oklahoma. Beverly Weston (Sam Shepard), an alcoholic, once-noted poet, interviews and hires a young native American woman Johnna (Misty Upham) as a live-in cook and caregiver for his strong-willed and contentious wife Violet (Meryl Streep), who is suffering from oral cancer and addiction to narcotics. Shortly after this, he disappears from the house, and Violet calls her sister and daughters for support. Her sister Mattie Fae (Margo Martindale) arrives with husband Charles Aiken (Chris Cooper). Violet's middle daughter Ivy (Julianne Nicholson) is single and the only one living locally; Barbara (Julia Roberts), her oldest, who has inherited her mother's mean streak, arrives from Colorado with her husband Bill (Ewan McGregor) and 14-year-old daughter Jean (Abigail Breslin). Barbara and Bill are separated, but they put up a united front for Violet.
After five days, the sheriff arrives with the news that Beverly took his boat out on the lake and has drowned. Youngest daughter Karen (Juliette Lewis) arrives with the latest in a string of boyfriends, Steve Huberbrecht (Dermot Mulroney), a sleazy Florida businessman whom she introduces as her fiancĂŠ. Mattie Fae and Charles's shy, awkward son "Little Charles" (Benedict Cumberbatch) misses the funeral because he overslept and is met at the bus station by his father. Charles loves his son, whereas Mattie constantly belittles him. Ivy confides to Barbara that she is in love with her cousin, Little Charles, who plans to move to New York, and she cannot have children because she had a hysterectomy. She feels this is her only chance to finally marry.
The family sits down to dinner after the funeral, fueled by Violet's brutal "truth telling", which results in Barbara pouncing on her mother. She decides she has had enough of her mother's drug addiction and confiscates all her several kinds of pills. Later, after Violet has had a chance to sober up, she has a tender moment with her daughters and shares a story that demonstrates how cruel her own mother was when she longed for a new pair of cowgirl boots when she was in her early teens.
As Little Charles sings Ivy a song he has written for her, Mattie Fae walks in and berates him. This exhausts Charles's patience with his wife's lack of love and compassion for her son, and he threatens to leave her if she keeps it up. Mattie subsequently reveals to Barbara, who unintentionally listened in, that she had a long-ago affair with Beverly, and Charles is in fact their younger half-brother and that is the true reason why Ivy and "Little Charles" cannot be together.
That evening, Steve and Jean are playfully sharing a joint of marijuana. Johnna sees this and, sensing that he intends on molesting her, goes after him with a shovel. Barbara confronts Jean and slaps her. This impels Bill to take Jean back to Colorado, leaving Barbara. Karen also leaves with Steve.
Later, Ivy tries to tell her mother about her love for Little Charles. Barbara tries to deflect the admission. Violet tells Ivy Charles is actually her brother, something she knew all along. Ivy leaves and promises to never come back. In the last confrontation between Violet and Barbara, Violet admits she was contacted by Beverly from his motel the week after he had left home, but did nothing to help him until after she removed money from the couple's joint safe deposit box. By this time he had already drowned. This revelation leads Barbara to depart. Violet is left with only Johnna.
Barbara is driving through the plains, stops, gets out of the car, cries then gets back in the car and follows signage showing highways and number of miles to Wichita, Salina and Denver.
The title designates time and location : an unusually hot August in a rural area outside Pawhuska , Oklahoma . Beverly Weston ( Sam Shepard ) , an alcoholic , once-noted poet , interviews and hires a young native American woman Johnna ( Misty Upham ) as a live-in cook and caregiver for his strong-willed and contentious wife Violet ( Meryl Streep ) , who is suffering from oral cancer and addiction to narcotics . Shortly after this , he disappears from the house , and Violet calls her sister and daughters for support . Her sister Mattie Fae ( Margo Martindale ) arrives with husband Charles Aiken ( Chris Cooper ) . Violet s middle daughter Ivy ( Julianne Nicholson ) is single and the only one living locally ; Barbara ( Julia Roberts ) , her oldest , who has inherited her mother s mean streak , arrives from Colorado with her husband Bill ( Ewan McGregor ) and 14-year-old daughter Jean ( Abigail Breslin ) . Barbara and Bill are separated , but they put up a united front for Violet . After five days , the sheriff arrives with the news that Beverly took his boat out on the lake and has drowned . Youngest daughter Karen ( Juliette Lewis ) arrives with the latest in a string of boyfriends , Steve Huberbrecht ( Dermot Mulroney ) , a sleazy Florida businessman whom she introduces as her fiancĂŠ . Mattie Fae and Charles s shy , awkward son Little Charles ( Benedict Cumberbatch ) misses the funeral because he overslept and is met at the bus station by his father . Charles loves his son , whereas Mattie constantly belittles him . Ivy confides to Barbara that she is in love with her cousin , Little Charles , who plans to move to New York , and she can not have children because she had a hysterectomy . She feels this is her only chance to finally marry . The family sits down to dinner after the funeral , fueled by Violet s brutal truth telling , which results in Barbara pouncing on her mother . She decides she has had enough of her mother s drug addiction and confiscates all her several kinds of pills . Later , after Violet has had a chance to sober up , she has a tender moment with her daughters and shares a story that demonstrates how cruel her own mother was when she longed for a new pair of cowgirl boots when she was in her early teens . As Little Charles sings Ivy a song he has written for her , Mattie Fae walks in and berates him . This exhausts Charles s patience with his wife s lack of love and compassion for her son , and he threatens to leave her if she keeps it up . Mattie subsequently reveals to Barbara , who unintentionally listened in , that she had a long-ago affair with Beverly , and Charles is in fact their younger half-brother and that is the true reason why Ivy and Little Charles can not be together . That evening , Steve and Jean are playfully sharing a joint of marijuana . Johnna sees this and , sensing that he intends on molesting her , goes after him with a shovel . Barbara confronts Jean and slaps her . This impels Bill to take Jean back to Colorado , leaving Barbara . Karen also leaves with Steve . Later , Ivy tries to tell her mother about her love for Little Charles . Barbara tries to deflect the admission . Violet tells Ivy Charles is actually her brother , something she knew all along . Ivy leaves and promises to never come back . In the last confrontation between Violet and Barbara , Violet admits she was contacted by Beverly from his motel the week after he had left home , but did nothing to help him until after she removed money from the couple s joint safe deposit box . By this time he had already drowned . This revelation leads Barbara to depart . Violet is left with only Johnna . Barbara is driving through the plains , stops , gets out of the car , cries then gets back in the car and follows signage showing highways and number of miles to Wichita , Salina and Denver .
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/August:_Osage_County_(film)
August: Osage County (film)
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<b>                       AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY
</b>


                           Written by

                          Tracy Letts



<b>1   AN ENDLESS SKY AT TWILIGHT                                  1
</b>
    Foreboding. Heat lightning in the distance. Miles of
    unforgiving, summer-scorched prairie.

<b>                        BEVERLY (OS)
</b>              ..."Life is very long..."


<b>2   MILES OF STRAIGHT ROAD                                      2
</b>
    Two lanes, not a car in sight. Cracked asphalt undulates over
    gentle, browned hills, disappears into an infinite horizon.

<b>                        BEVERLY (OS)
</b>              TS Eliot. Not the first person to say
              it, certainly not the first person to
              think it.


<b>3   A LAKE IN THE GATHERING DUSK                                3
</b>
    Flat, still. An empty aluminum rowboat lolls listlessly,
    tied haphazardly to an old wooden dock.

<b>                        BEVERLY (OS)
</b>              But he's given credit for it because
              he bothered to write it down.


<b>4   AN OLD FARM HOUSE SITTING ATOP A LOW HILL                   4
</b>
    At the end of a long gravel road.   Surrounded by towering
    black walnuts and lace-bark elms.   A farm once, no one's put
    a plow to earth here in decades.

<b>                        BEVERLY (OS)
</b>              So if you say it, you have to say his
              name after it. "Life is very long:" TS
              Eliot. Absolutely goddamn right.

    Wrap around porches, forgotten gardens. Imposing in the
    gathering gloom. A single downstairs window glows.

<b>                        BEVERLY (OS) (CONT'D)
</b>              Give the devil his due. Very few
              poets could've made it through Eliot's
              trial and come out, brilliantined and
              double-breasted and Anglican.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   2.
<b>4   CONTINUED:                                                    4
</b>
    And now, a face fills the screen --


<b>5   INT. BEVERLY'S DIMLY LIT STUDY - TWILIGHT                     5
</b>
    BEVERLY WESTON. A craggy, wise and deeply sad Okie.    We take
    a long moment, just to study that face.

<b>                           BEVERLY
</b>                 Not hard to imagine, faced with
                 Eliot's first wife, lovely Viv, how
                 Crane or Berryman might have reacted,
                 just foot-raced to the nearest bridge;
                 Olympian Suicidalists.

    Stares out the window at the darkening, ominous horizon.

<b>                           BEVERLY (CONT'D)
</b>                 Not Eliot: after sufficient years of
                 ecclesiastical guilt, plop her in the
                 nearest asylum and get on with it.

    He sits   at a cluttered desk, his face damp with sweat. Nurses
    a glass   of whiskey, his staggered delivery due more to his
    careful   selection of words than drunkenness. He's talking to
    someone   we do not yet see.

<b>                           BEVERLY (CONT'D)
</b>                 God-a-mighty. You have to admire the
                 purity of the survivor's instinct.

    From somewhere upstairs, a THUD. He looks to the ceiling.

<b>                           BEVERLY (CONT'D)
</b>                 Violet. My wife. She takes pills,
                 sometimes a great many. They affect...
                 among other things, her equilibrium.
                 Fortunately, they eliminate her need
                 for equilibrium...


<b>6   INT. VIOLET'S BEDROOM - TWILIGHT                              6
</b>
    Full of shadows. She sits up slowly from rumpled sheets.
    We're on her profile, CLOSE, silhouetted against the faint
    light from the open bathroom door. She hesitates on the edge
    of the bed, getting her bearings. Finds a pack of Winstons,
    lights one. Listens to the voices filtering up from below.
                         "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft    3.


<b>7   INT. THE STUDY - TWILIGHT                                       7
</b>
    Beverly shifts, waiting for the sound of more movement from
    the rooms overhead. When there is none --

<b>                        BEVERLY
</b>              My wife takes pills and I drink.
              That's the bargain we've struck.

<b>                                                 INTERCUT WITH:
</b>

<b>8   INT. VIOLET'S BEDROOM/UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - TWILIGHT               8
</b>
    She gathers herself to stand. Moves to the door. We FOLLOW
    HER CLOSELY. Her hair unkempt, her steps unsteady, into --

<b>                        BEVERLY
</b>              The reasons why we partake are
              anymore inconsequential.

    The hallway, walls lined with photos of long-dead pioneer
    ancestors and faded school photographs of three daughters.

<b>                        BEVERLY (CONT'D)
</b>              The facts are: my wife takes pills and
              I drink. That's the bargain we've
              struck, just one paragraph of our
              marriage contract... cruel covenant.
              And these facts have over time made
              burdensome the maintenance of
              traditional American routine.

    She makes her way to the stairs starts down.

<b>                        BEVERLY (CONT'D)
</b>              Rather than once more vow abstinence
              with my fingers crossed in the queasy
              hope of righting our ship, I've chosen
              to turn my life over to a Higher Power
              and join the ranks of the Hiring
              Class.

    The light from the study slices across the living room.

<b>                        BEVERLY (CONT'D)
</b>              It's not a decision with which I'm
              entirely comfortable. I know how to
              launder my dirty undies. Done it all
              my life, but I'm finding it's getting
              in the way of my drinking.

    She can see a portion of Beverly's desk, a woman's legs.
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   4.
<b>8   CONTINUED:                                                     8
</b>
<b>                           BEVERLY (CONT'D)
</b>                 Sorry about the heat in here. My wife
                 is cold-blooded and not just in the
                 metaphorical sense. She does not
                 believe in air-conditioning... as if
                 it is a thing to be disbelieved. I
                 knew your father, you know. Bought
                 many a watermelon from Mr Youngblood's
                 fruit stand. He did pass, didn't he??

<b>                             JOHNNA
</b>                 Yes, sir.

<b>                           BEVERLY
</b>                 May I ask how?

<b>                           JOHNNA
</b>                 He had a heart attack. Fell into a
                 flatbed truck full of wine grapes.

<b>                           BEVERLY
</b>                 Wine grapes. In Oklahoma.   I'm sorry.

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                 Bev...?!

<b>                             BEVERLY
</b>                 Yes?

<b>                           VIOLET
</b>                 Did you pullish? Did you...Oh, goddamn                *
                 it... did. You. Are the police here?

<b>                             BEVERLY
</b>                 No...

    She stands in the shadows of the living room, confused.

<b>                           VIOLET
</b>                 Am I looking through window? A window?

<b>                           BEVERLY
</b>                 Can you come here?

    She steps into the study, emerging from the darkness into
    light to reveal: VIOLET WESTON. Dissipated, dishevelled,
    late sixties. She wears pajamas and a much slept-in robe.

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                 Oh.    Hello.

    She's staring at a woman sitting in front of Beverly's desk:
    JOHNNA. Thirty, Native American, simply dressed.
                              "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   5.
<b>8   CONTINUED:                                                      8
</b>
<b>                           BEVERLY
</b>                 Johnna, the young woman I told you
                 about.

<b>                           VIOLET
</b>                 You tell me she's a woman. Wo-man.
                 Whoa-man.

<b>                           BEVERLY
</b>                 That I'm hiring --

<b>                           VIOLET
</b>                 Oh, you hire women's now the thing.
                 I thought you meant the other woman.

<b>                           BEVERLY
</b>                 To cook and clean, take you to the
                 clinic and to the --

<b>                           VIOLET
</b>                     (over-articulating)
                 In the int'rest of ...civil action,
                 your par-tic-u-lars way of speak-
                 king, I thought you meant you had
                 thought a whoa-man to be HIRED!

<b>                           BEVERLY
</b>                 I don't understand you.

<b>                           VIOLET
</b>                     (winsome, to Johnna)
                 Hello.

<b>                              JOHNNA
</b>                 Hello.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                 I'm sorry.
                     (curtsies)
                 Like this.

<b>                           JOHNNA
</b>                 Yes, ma'am.

<b>                           VIOLET
</b>                 You're very pretty.

<b>                              JOHNNA
</b>                 Thank you.

<b>                           VIOLET
</b>                 Are you an Indian?
                              "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft    6.
<b>8   CONTINUED:                                                       8
</b>
<b>                           JOHNNA
</b>                 Yes, ma'am.

<b>                              VIOLET                                     *
</b>                 What kind?                                              *

<b>                              JOHNNA                                     *
</b>                 Cheyenne.                                               *

<b>                           VIOLET
</b>                 Do you think I'm pretty?

<b>                           JOHNNA
</b>                 Yes, ma'am.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                     (curtsies again)
                 Like...this?
                     (curtsies again)
                 Like this?

    She stumbles, catches herself.

<b>                              BEVERLY
</b>                 Careful...

<b>                           VIOLET
</b>                 You're the house now. I'm sorry,
                 I took some medicine for my mussss...
                 muscular.

<b>                           BEVERLY
</b>                 Why don't you go back to bed,
                 sweetheart?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                 Why don't you go fuck a fucking
                 sow's ass?

<b>                              BEVERLY
</b>                 All right.

<b>                           VIOLET
</b>                 I'm sorry. I'll be sickly sweet. I'm
                 soooooooo sweet. In-el-abrially sweet.

    She smiles at Johnna, goes.         Beverly watches her disappear
    back up the stairs, then --
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   7.
<b>8   CONTINUED:                                                    8
</b>
<b>                           BEVERLY
</b>                 We keep unusual hours here. Try not
                 to differentiate between night and
                 day. You won't be able to keep a
                 healthy routine.

<b>                           JOHNNA
</b>                 I need the work.

<b>                           BEVERLY
</b>                 I myself require very little
                 attention, thrive without it, sort
                 of a human cactus. My wife has been
                 diagnosed with a touch of cancer, so
                 she'll need to be driven to Tulsa for
                 her final chemotherapy treatments.
                 You're welcome to use that American-
                 made behemoth parked out in the drive.
                 Welcome to make use of anything,
                 everything, all this garbage we've
                 acquired, our life's work. Do you
                 have any questions?

<b>                           JOHNNA
</b>                 What kind of cancer?

<b>                           BEVERLY
</b>                 My God, I nearly neglected the punch
                 line: mouth cancer.

<b>                           JOHNNA
</b>                 What pills does she take?

<b>                           BEVERLY
</b>                 Valium. Vicodin. Darvon, Darvocet.
                 Percodan, Percocet. Xanax for fun.
                 OxyContin in a pinch. And of course
                 Diluadid. I can't forget Diluadid.

    Beverly wobbles to his feet, explores his bookshelf.

<b>                           BEVERLY (CONT'D)
</b>                 "By night within that ancient house,
                 Immense, black, damned, anonymous."
                     (and)
                 My last refuge, my books: simple
                 pleasures, like finding wild onions by
                 the side of a road, or requited love.

    He takes a book from the bookshelf, gives it to her.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   8.
<b>8    CONTINUED:                                                      8
</b>
<b>                             BEVERLY (CONT'D)
</b>                  TS Eliot. Read it or not. It isn't
                  a job requirement, just for your
                  enjoyment.
                      (beat)
                  Here we go, round the prickly pear...                  *
                  Prickly pear prickly pear...
                  Here we go round the prickly pear...


<b>9    OPENING TITLES                                                  9
</b>
     We're underwater. Light fractures and scatters above. The
     surface undulating gently as we GLIDE through a lake's
     dark, tenebrous waters on a moonlit night.

     A rowboat SLIPS across our field of vision. It's aluminum
     hull cutting through the calm above, sending out small waves
     as it makes it's way SLOWLY past.

     Oars dip in on either side, propelling the small craft toward
     deeper water. It slows. Stops. Bobs gently. We wait, watch --

     And then suddenly, something large hits the surface above,
     indistinct, exploding the calm, coming towards us, sinking
     fast as TITLES END --


<b>10   A SHAPE                                                        10
</b>
     Prone, silhouetted against a sunlit window across the room.
     A body, her back to us. The phone RINGS. Once, twice. The
     body doesn't move. A girl's voice calls from downstairs.

<b>                               JEAN (OS)
</b>                  Mom...?

     The phone continues to RING. Still no movement.

<b>                               JEAN (OS) (CONT'D)
</b>                  Mom...!

     Nothing. The ringing stops. A moment of silence, followed by
     irritated teenage footsteps on the carpeted stairs.

<b>                               JEAN (OS) (CONT'D)
</b>                  ...Mom...?

     The hallway door opens, we're in --
                          "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   9.


<b>11   INT. BARBARA'S BEDROOM - DAY                                 11
</b>
     JEAN, fourteen, precocious, sticks her head in.

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               ...Mom?

     A sound from the body, still no movement.

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               Mmm...

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               You didn't hear the phone?

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               If it's your father, tell him to
               fuck off.

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               It's Aunt Ivy in Oklahoma.

     New deal. She sits up. CLOSE ON: BARBARA FORDHAM, late-
     forties, fully dressed. She gropes for the phone.

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               ...Ivy? ...what's wrong?

     Barb stands, moves slowly to the window. Outside: identical
     suburban homes, neutral house colors, lawns.

     We STUDY Barb as she listens. Greying roots, no make-up, a
     few extra pounds. A woman who, for reasons we don't yet
     understand, has decided to stop giving a damn.

<b>                         BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>               ...When...?

     Jean passes in the hall. Stops, watching as her mother slowly
     dissolves, reaches for the sill, lowers herself to sit.


<b>12   INT/EXT. WESTON HOUSE (PAWHUSKA, OKLAHOMA) - DAY             12
</b>
     A battered Honda Civic makes it's way up the long drive from
     the highway below, dust swirling behind it. It's hot. Bright.

     The Honda parks. IVY WESTON, forties, shy and soft-spoken,
     attractive enough but expert at hiding it, climbs out.
     Stares up at the trees surrounding the old farm house. The
     precarious old barn out back and untended flower beds.
                          "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   10.


<b>13   INT. WESTON KITCHEN - DAY                                    13
</b>
     Johnna washes a dish at the sink. Watches Ivy's arrival
     through the kitchen window. Makes no motion to go to her --


<b>14   INT. THE WESTON HOUSE - DAY                                  14
</b>
     Ivy steps into the dark house.   Drapes drawn, lights off.

<b>                          IVY
</b>               Mom...?
                    (no answer)
               Mom?

     Steps into the open door of her father's study. His vacant
     desk chair, untouched papers, dust mots settling in the
     sunlight. She takes a moment, then heads upstairs. CARRYING
     US with her. Finds Violet, in her bedroom, sitting in front
     of her vanity in near darkness, smoking and on the phone.

<b>                         VIOLET
</b>               ...You've been out there...?

     Barely acknowledges Ivy's arrival. The room is unruly. Bed
     unmade. Clothes draped over chairs. Dresser and night-stands
     cluttered with pills, tissue boxes, creams and lotions.

<b>                         VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>               ...You're going out yourself...?                        *

     Ivy wanders into the bath. More pills, wet towels on the
     floor. She turns off the dripping faucet. Picks up towels.

<b>                         VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>               Stop that...

     Violet is off the phone, standing in hall, watching Ivy. Ivy
     stops, briefly chastened. Violet opens a bottle of pills.

<b>                         VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>               You call Barb? What'd she say?

<b>                         IVY
</b>               She's on her way.

<b>                         VIOLET
</b>               What'd you tell her?

<b>                         IVY
</b>               I told her Dad was missing.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   11.
<b>14   CONTINUED:                                                      14
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Did you tell her how long he'd been
                  missing?

<b>                               IVY
</b>                  Five days.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  What did she say?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  She said she was on her way.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Goddamn it, Ivy, what did she say?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  She said she was on her way.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You're hopeless.
                      (heads back into her room)
                  Goddamn your father for putting me
                  through this. Seen that office of his,
                  all that mess? I can't make heads or
                  tails of it. He hired this Indian for
                  some goddamn reason and now I have a
                  stranger in my house. What's her name?

     Ivy follows her mother, returns to tidying up.

<b>                             IVY
</b>                  Johnna.   Who was on the phone?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  This house is falling apart, something
                  about the basement or the sump pump or
                  the foundation. I don't know anything
                  about it. I can't do this by myself.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I called Karen.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  What did she say?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  She said she'd try to get here.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  She'll be a big fat help, just
                  like you.
<b>                            (MORE)
</b>                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   12.
<b>14   CONTINUED:                                                   14
</b><b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                      (takes another pill)
                  I need Barb.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  What's Barb going to be able to do?

     Ivy moves on to hanging clothes back in the jammed closet.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  What did you do to your hair?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I had it straightened.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You had it straightened.    Why would
                  anybody do that?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I just wanted a change.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You're the prettiest of my three
                  girls, but you always look like a
                  schlub. Why don't you wear makeup?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Do I need makeup?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  All women need makeup. Don't let
                  anybody tell you different. The only
                  woman who was pretty enough to go
                  without makeup was Elizabeth Taylor
                  and she wore a ton. Stand up straight.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Mom.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Your shoulders are slumped and your
                  hair's all straight and you don't wear
                  makeup. You look like a lesbian.

     Violet takes another pill.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  You could get a decent man if you
                  spruced up. A bit, that's all I'm
                  saying.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I'm not looking for a man.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   13.
<b>14   CONTINUED:                                                   14
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  There are a lot of losers out there,
                  don't think I don't know that. But
                  just because you got a bad one last
                  time doesn't mean --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Barry wasn't a loser.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Barry was an asshole. I warned you
                  from the jump, first time you brought
                  him over here in his little electric
                  car with his stupid orange hair and
                  that turban --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  It wasn't a turban --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You work at a college. Don't tell me
                  there aren't people coming through the
                  door of that library every day.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  You want me to marry some eighteen
                  year old boy from one of these hick
                  towns?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  They still have teachers at TU, right?
                  They did when your father taught
                  there.

     Violet takes another pill.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  How many was that?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I wasn't counting.

     Violet takes another pill.

<b>                            IVY (CONT'D)
</b>                  Is your mouth burning?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Like a son-of-a-bitch.   My tongue
                  is on fire.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Are you supposed to be smoking?
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   14.
<b>14   CONTINUED:                                                    14
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Is anybody supposed to smoke?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  You have cancer of the mouth.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Just leave it alone.

<b>                            IVY                                         *
</b>                      (after a moment)                                  *
                  Are you scared?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Course I'm scared. And you are a
                  comfort, sweetheart. Thank God one of
                  my girls stayed close to home.

     Outside, the sound of a CAR pulling up. Ivy pulls back the
     drape and the shade, finds a big Cadillac arriving.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Aunt Mattie Fae's here.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  She means to come in here and tell
                  me what's what.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I don't know how Uncle Charlie puts
                  up with it.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  He smokes a lot of grass.

<b>                             IVY
</b>                  He does?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  He smokes a lot of grass.


<b>15   INT/EXT. CHARLIE'S CADILLAC/WESTON HOUSE - DAY                15
</b>
<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  I told Vi, "Take all those goddamn
                  books he's so fond of and make a big
                  pile in the front yard and have
                  yourself a bonfire."

     MATTIE FAE AIKEN, sixty-one, Violet's baby sister, larger
     than life, is in the passenger seat. CHARLIE, Mattie Fae's
     husband, easy-going, is behind the wheel.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   15.
<b>15   CONTINUED:                                                   15
</b>
<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  You don't burn a man's books.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  You do, if the situation calls for it.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  The man's books didn't do anything.

<b>                             MATTIE FAE
</b>                  You get any ideas about just up and
                  taking off, Charlie Aiken, you better
                  believe --

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  I'm not going anywhere.

     Charlie parks, they climb out into the blinding sunlight.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  I'm saying if you did, I'll give you
                  two days to get your head straight and
                  then it's all going up in a blaze of
                  glory. Not that you have any books
                  lying around. I don't think I've ever
                  seen you read a book in my life.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  That bother you?

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  What's the last book you read?

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Beverly was a teacher; teachers read
                  books, I'm in the upholstery business.

     Ivy comes out of the house to meet them. Mattie Fae spots
     her, makes a beeline for her, envelopes Ivy in a hug.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Ah, sweetie. Your daddy's done this
                  before. Just takes off, no call,
                  nothing. I told your mother, "You
                  pack that son-of-a-bitch's bags and
                  have `em waiting for him on the front
                  porch."

     Mattie Fae sweeps past Ivy into the --
                           "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   16.


<b>16   INT. WESTON HOUSE - DAY                                     16
</b>
     Ivy and Charlie follow.

<b>                         MATTIE FAE
</b>               Where's your mother?

<b>                           IVY
</b>               Upstairs.

<b>                         CHARLIE
</b>               They've always had trouble, Ivy.

<b>                         MATTIE FAE
</b>               He'll come back again, I know he will,
               he always does. Beverly is a very
               complicated man.

<b>                         IVY
</b>               Kind of like Charles.

<b>                         CHARLIE
</b>               Yes, like Little Charles. Exactly --

<b>                          MATTIE FAE
</b>               Oh.   He's nothing like Little Charles.

<b>                         CHARLIE
</b>               She just means in their sort of quiet
               complicated ways --

<b>                         MATTIE FAE
</b>               Little Charles isn't complicated,
               he's just unemployed.

     The phone begins to RING.   Ivy eyes it apprehensively.

<b>                         CHARLIE
</b>               He's an observer.

<b>                         MATTIE FAE
</b>               All he observes is the television.
                   (and)
               Why is it so dark in here?

<b>                         CHARLIE
</b>               So you can't even see Ivy's point?
               That Little Charles and Beverly
               share some kind of... complication.

<b>                         MATTIE FAE
</b>               You have to be smart to be
               complicated.
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   17.
<b>16   CONTINUED:                                                    16
</b>
     The phone STOPS.    Violet's answered it upstairs.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Are you saying our boy isn't smart?

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Yes, that's what I'm saying.

     Ivy steals glances upstairs, concerned about the phone.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE (CONT'D)
</b>                  I'm sweating. Are you sweating?

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Hell, yes, I'm sweating, it's ninety
                  degrees in here.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Feel my back.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  I don't want to feel your back.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Sweat is just dripping down my back.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  I believe you.

<b>                             MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Feel it.

<b>                             CHARLIE
</b>                  No.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Come on, put your hand here --

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Goddamn it --

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Sweat's just dripping...

     Mattie Fae pulls back a set of drapes, finds the light is
     blocked by shades sealed with tape.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE (CONT'D)
</b>                  Ivy, when did this start? This
                  business with taping the shades?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Been a couple of years now.
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   18.
<b>16    CONTINUED:                                                   16
</b>
      Mattie Fae starts peeling off the tape.

<b>                             MATTIE FAE
</b>                   Is it that long since we've been here?

<b>                             CHARLIE
</b>                   Do you know its purpose? You can't
                   tell if it's night or day.

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   I think that's the purpose.

      Ivy goes, Charlie notices Mattie Fae pulling off tape.

<b>                             CHARLIE
</b>                   Don't do that. This isn't your place.

<b>                             MATTIE FAE
</b>                   The body needs sunlight.


<b>A17   INT/EXT. RENTAL CAR (MOVING) - AFTERNOON                    A17   *
</b>
      Jean has on headphones, listening to her Walkman in the back.     *
      Barbara's estranged husband, BILL FORDHAM, drives the rental.     *
      Barb's in the passenger seat beside him, watching the brown       *
      countryside pass by.                                              *

<b>                             BARBARA                                    *
</b>                   What were these people thinking... the               *
                   jokers who settled this place.   Who                 *
                   was the asshole who saw this flat hot                *
                   nothing and planted his flag? I mean                 *
                   we fucked the Indians for this?                      *

<b>                             BILL                                       *
</b>                   Well, genocide always seems like such                *
                   a good idea at the time.                             *

<b>                             BARBARA                                    *
</b>                   Right, you need a little hindsight.                  *

<b>                             BILL                                       *
</b>                   If you want me to explain the creepy                 *
                   character of the Midwest, you're --                  *

<b>                             BARBARA                                    *
</b>                   Please, the Midwest. This is the                     *
                   Plains: a state of mind, right? A                    *
                   spiritual affliction, like the Blues.                *
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft    19.
<b>A17   CONTINUED:                                                   A17
</b>
<b>                             BILL                                         *
</b>                   "You okay?" "I'm fine.   Just got the                  *
                   Plains."                                               *

      They laugh.    He reaches across, touches her tenderly.             *

<b>                             BARBARA                                      *
</b>                   Don't.                                                 *

      He withdraws quickly.                                               *


<b>17    INT. VIOLET'S BEDROOM - DAY                                    17
</b>
      Violet hangs up the phone. Sits for a long moment, absorbing
      what she's heard. Mattie Fae watches from her spot sitting          *
      on the corner of the bed, concerned. Ivy is in the door.            *

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                   They checked the hospitals, no
                   Beverly.

<b>                             MATTIE FAE
</b>                   Who's this now? The highway patrol?                    *

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                   No, the sheriff, the Gilbeau boy.

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   What else did he say?

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                   The boat's missing.

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   Dad's boat?

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                   I asked the sheriff to send a deputy
                   out to the dock to check if anybody
                   had seen him and his boat is gone.

      Ivy watches her mother being comforted by Mattie Fae.       Wants
      to go to her. Doesn't.


<b>18    MOVED TO A17                                                   18   *
</b>                           "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   20.


<b>19   INT/EXT. RENTAL CAR/WESTON HOUSE - AFTERNOON                19
</b>
     Bill slows the rental car to turn. Barb looks down the road      *
     and across the field to where the farm house peeks out           *
     through the trees, beckoning, threatening, ominous.              *

     Bill pulls the rental in front of the house. Turns off the       *
     ignition. Neither moves to get out. Jean realizes they've
     stopped, pulls off her headphones.

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               I'm gonna grab a smoke.

     Jean heads for the relative privacy of the fence at the edge
     of the yard. Leaving Bill and Barb alone, watching.

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               You've encouraged that.

<b>                         BILL
</b>               I haven't encouraged anything.

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               You admire her for getting hooked
               at fourteen, makes her seem even
               more mature.

     Barbara climbs out.   Bill follows.

<b>                         BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>               Goddamn, it's hot.

     Bill unlocks the trunk, begins unloading luggage.

<b>                         BILL
</b>               Suppose your mom's turned on the air
               conditioner?

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               You kidding? Remember the parakeets?

<b>                         BILL
</b>               The parakeets?

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               I didn't tell you about the parakeets?
               She got a parakeet for some insane
               reason, and the little fucker croaked
               after two days. So she went to the
               pet store and raised hell and they
               gave her another parakeet. That one
               died after one day.
<b>                         (MORE)
</b>                              "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   21.
<b>19   CONTINUED:                                                     19
</b><b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  So she went back and they gave her a
                  third parakeet and that one died too.
                  So the chick from the pet store came
                  out here to see just what in the hell
                  this serial parakeet killer was doing
                  to bump off these birds.

     They head for the house with suitcases, wilting in the heat.

<b>                              BILL
</b>                  And?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  The heat. It was too hot. They were
                  dying from the heat.

<b>                              BILL
</b>                  Jesus.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  These are tropical birds, all right?
                  They live in the fucking tropics.

     He laughs.    Barb looks over to Jean smoking by the fence.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  What, is she smoking a cigar?

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Are you ready for this?

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  No.    No way.


<b>20   INT. WESTON HOUSE - AFTERNOON                                  20
</b>
     Charlie is poking around the old stereo, finds an LP, the TV
     beside him is tuned to a Royals game.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Violet's a Clapton fan?

     Johnna passes through, Charlie holds up his empty bottle.

<b>                            CHARLIE (CONT'D)
</b>                  `Scuse me, dear...could I trouble you
                  for another beer?

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Goddam it, she's not a waitress.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   22.
<b>20   CONTINUED:                                                   20
</b>
<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  I know that.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Then get your own beer.

<b>                            JOHNNA
</b>                      (takes the empty/goes)
                  I'll get it.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  I don't believe you. Watchin' a ball
                  game, drinkin' beers. You have any
                  sense of what's going on around you?

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Am I supposed to sit here like a
                  statue? You're drinking whiskey.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  I'm having a cocktail.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  You're drinking straight whiskey!

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Just... show a little class.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  ...Mom?

     Barbara and Bill have entered, are quickly descended upon by
     Mattie Fae and Charlie. Hugs, overlapping dialogue.

<b>          MATTIE FAE (CONT'D)                     BARBARA
</b>     Oh my God, Barbara --! You        Hi, Aunt Mattie Fae --
     give me some sugar!

<b>             MATTIE FAE (CONT'D)                    BILL
</b>     Bill!     Look how skinny you     Hi, Mattie Fae.
     are!

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Hi, Charlie.

     Jean enters behind her parents, stands sheepishly.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Oh my gosh, will you look at this one?
                  Come here and give your Aunt Mattie
                  Fae some sugar!
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   23.
<b>20   CONTINUED:                                                    20
</b>
<b>          MATTIE FAE (CONT'D)                      CHARLIE
</b>     My gosh, you're so big! Look       `Lo, Bill. Man you have
     at your boobs! Last time I         dropped some weight, haven't
     saw you, you looked like a         you? Hello, sweetheart.
     little boy!

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Hi, Uncle Charlie.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  How was the flight from Denver?

<b>                             BILL
</b>                  Fine...

     Violet appears on the stairs, rushes to Barbara.

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                  Barb...

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  It's okay, Mom. I'm here, I'm here.
                  Shh, it's okay, I'm here.

     Ivy appears at the top of the stairs, watches her mother in
     her sister's arms. Bill turns to Charlie, quietly:

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  No word then?

<b>                  CHARLIE                         MATTIE FAE
</b>     No.                                No, huh-uh.

<b>                 VIOLET                            BARBARA
</b>     What am I going to do?             It's okay, Mom.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Did you see Bill and Jean?

     Violet takes them in, disoriented.

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                  Yes.   Hi, Bill.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Hello, Violet.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I'm just so scared.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Of course you are, poor thing.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   24.
<b>20   CONTINUED:                                                   20
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                      (sees Jean)
                  Well, look at you.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Isn't she the limit? Look at her
                  boobs!

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  O-kay, we've all stared at my
                  tits now.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  They're just so darn big.

     Vi hugs Jean. Johnna slips in, leaves a beer for Charlie.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You're just the prettiest thing.
                  Thank you for coming to see me.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Ivy, I didn't see you up there.

     Ivy, still standing above on the stairs.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  It looked crowded.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  God, you look good.   Doesn't she
                  look good, Bill?

<b>                  BILL                             BARBARA
</b>     Yes, she does.                     I love your hair, that looks
                                        great.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  She had it straightened. Barbara,
                  or Bill, it doesn't matter, I need
                  you to go through Beverly's things,
                  help me with this paperwork.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Well... we can do that, Mom.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I was going to help with --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  No, now that desk of his is such a
                  mess and I get confused --
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft    25.
<b>20   CONTINUED:                                                    20
</b>
<b>                            BILL
</b>                  I'll take care of it, Violet --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                      (to Charlie)
                  Which room are you in?

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  We're gonna head home soon.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You're going back to Tulsa?

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  We have to, we left in such a rush we
                  didn't get anyone to take care of the
                  damn dogs. Anyway, I know you want to
                  spend some time with these girls.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  How about Little Charles, can't he
                  take care of the dogs?

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Well, yeah, I guess he could --

<b>              MATTIE FAE                             CHARLIE
</b>     No, he can't. We have to get         Maybe we should call him,
     back.                                Mattie Fae --

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  We talked about this.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Mom, can Jean stay in the attic?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  No, that's where what's-her-name
                  lives.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Johnna.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Who's Johnna?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  She's the Indian who lives in my
                  attic.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  She's the what?
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   26.


<b>21   EXT. THE YARD - LATE AFTERNOON                               21
</b>
     Jean steps out onto the porch. Sees Johnna across the road
     by the fence. Heads for her --

<b>                            JEAN
</b>               Hi...

     Johnna is cutting off sprigs of wild mint entangled in the
     fence, standing in what was once a vegetable garden.

<b>                            JOHNNA
</b>               Hello.

<b>                            JEAN                                       *
</b>               I'm Jean.                                               *

<b>                            JOHNNA                                     *
</b>               Johnna.                                                 *

     Johnna keeps working, Jean watches.

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               I like your necklace.

     A beaded pouch in the shape of a turtle.

<b>                            JOHNNA                                     *
</b>               Thank you.                                              *

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               Did you make that?

<b>                         JOHNNA
</b>               My grandma.

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               Is there something in it?

<b>                         JOHNNA
</b>               My umbilical cord.

     Jean recoils.   Johnna smiles.

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               Ewww, are you serious?

<b>                         JOHNNA
</b>               When a Cheyenne is born, their
               umbilical cord is dried and sewn
               into a pouch.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft    27.
<b>21   CONTINUED:                                                    21
</b>
<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  You're Cheyenne. Like that movie
                  Powwow Highway. Did you see that?

<b>                             JOHNNA                                      *
</b>                  Yes. We wear it for the rest of our                    *
                  lives. If we lose it, our souls
                  belong nowhere and when we die our
                  souls walk the Earth looking for where
                  we belong.

     Johnna starts back for the house with her mint.       Off Jean --


<b>22   INT. THE BACK PORCH - LATE AFTERNOON                           22
</b>
     A screened in back porch off the kitchen. Bill and Barb sit
     at an old linoleum table.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  This was when?

     Violet stands smoking, unhappily watching Charlie and Mattie
     Fae climb into the Caddie and disappear down the gravel
     drive, heading back to Tulsa.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Saturday morning. The Indian girl
                  made us biscuits and gravy. We ate
                  some, he walked out the door, this
                  door right there. Got into his
                  truck. And that was it.

     Johnna enters with her mint, crosses into the kitchen.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  He just left...?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I went to bed Saturday night, got up
                  Sunday... still no Beverly. I didn't
                  make much of it, thought he'd gone
                  out on a bender.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Why would he do that? Not like he
                  couldn't drink at home. Unless you
                  were riding his ass.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I never said anything to him about his
                  drinking, never got on him about it.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   28.
<b>22   CONTINUED:                                                      22
</b>
<b>                               BARBARA
</b>                  Really.

<b>                            VILOET
</b>                  Barbara, I swear. He could drink
                  himself into obliv-uh, obliv-en-um...

<b>                               BARBARA
</b>                  Oblivion.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  So Sunday, still no sign of him...

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Yes, Sunday. No sign. I started
                  getting worried, don'tcha know.
                  That's when I got worked up about
                  that safety deposit box.   We kept an
                  awful lot of cash in that box, some
                  expensive jewelry. I had a diamond
                  ring in that box appraised at seven
                  thousand dollars --

     Johnna returns with glasses of iced tea, each with a sprig of
     mint, delivers them to Bill and Barbara.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Wait, wait, wait, I'm missing
                  something. Why do you care about a
                  safety deposit box?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Well, I know what you'll say about
                  this, but, your father and I had an
                  urge-ment... arrangement. If
                  something were to ever happen to one
                  of us, the other one would go empty
                  that box.

<b>                               BARBARA
</b>                  Because...

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  The money and jewelry gets rolled into
                  the estate, bank seals the box until
                  probate is settled. Can take months.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Right, that's right --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You're such a fucking cynic.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   29.
<b>22   CONTINUED:                                                   22
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I knew you would disapprove --

     Johnna cuts into a freshly baked apple pie in the kitchen.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Okay, what about the safety deposit
                  box?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I had to wait for the bank to open on
                  Monday. And after I emptied that box,
                  I called the police and reported him
                  missing. Monday morning.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  And you only had Ivy call me today?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I didn't want to worry you, honey --

<b>                BARBARA                             BILL
</b>     Jesus Christ.                     Vi, you sure there wasn't
                                       some event that triggered his
                                       leaving, some incident.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  You mean like a fight.

     Johnna places pieces of pie in front of Bill and Barb.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Yes.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  No. And we fought enough... you
                  know... but no, he just left.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Maybe he needed some time away
                  from you.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  That's nice of you to say.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Good old unfathomable Dad.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Oh. That man. What I first fell of
                  with -- fell in love with, you know,
                  was his mystery. I thought it was
                  sexy as hell.
<b>                            (MORE)
</b>                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft     30.
<b>22   CONTINUED:                                                     22
</b><b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  You knew he was the smartest one in
                  the room, knew if he just said
                  something... knock you out. But he'd
                  just stand there, little smile on his
                  face... not say a word. Sexy.

<b>                                                      INTERCUT WITH:
</b>

<b>23   INSIDE THE KITCHEN                                                23
</b>
     Ivy enters with her coffee cup, runs water in it at the sink.
     Outside, her mother, sister, and Bill on the back porch.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  You can't think of anything unusual --

     Johnna sits at the kitchen table behind Ivy. Johnna stands,
     joins Ivy at the sink. Ivy hadn't seen her there.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  He hired this woman. He didn't ask me,
                  just hired this woman to come live in
                  our house. Few days before he left.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You don't want her here.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  She's a stranger in my house. There's
                  an Indian in my house.

     Ivy looks to Johnna, embarrassed. But Johnna just takes
     Ivy's cup from her, finishes cleaning it.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  You have a problem with Indians,
                  Violet?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I don't know what to say to an
                  Indian.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  They're called Native Americans
                  now, Mom.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Who makes that decision?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  It's what they like to be called.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   31.
<b>23   CONTINUED:                                                   23
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  They aren't any more native than me.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  In fact, they are.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  What's wrong with Indian?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Why's it so hard to call people --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Let's just call the dinosaurs "Native
                  Americans" while we're at it.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  She may be an Indian, but she makes
                  the best goddamn apple pie I ever ate.

     Johnna smiles, nods to Ivy.       Leaves the kitchen.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  He hired a cook. It doesn't make any
                  sense. We don't eat.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  And now you get biscuits and gravy.
                  Kind of nice, huh?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Nice for you, now. But you'll be gone
                  soon enough, never to return.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                      (a warning)
                  Mom...

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  When was the last time you were here?

<b>                BARBARA                               VIOLET
</b>     Don't get started on that --         Really, I don't even
                                          remember.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I'm very dutiful, Mom, I call, I
                  write, I send presents --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You do not write --
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   32.
<b>23   CONTINUED:                                                   23
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Presents on birthdays, Mother's Day --

     Ivy eavesdrops at the sink, unsure if she should stay or go.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Because you're "dutiful."

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  All right, now --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I don't care about you two. I'd like
                  to see my granddaughter every now --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Well, you're seeing her now.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  But your father. You broke his heart
                  when you moved away.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  That is wildly unfair.

     Bill stands, picks up a plate, pushes his way back into the
     kitchen. Ivy hears him coming, but doesn't have time to
     escape. Goes to the refrigerator instead.

<b>                  BILL                             VIOLET
</b>     Am I going to have to             You know you were Beverly's
     separate you two?                 favorite; don't pretend you
                                       don't know that.

     Barbara follows Bill. Ivy finds iced tea, pours herself
     some. Tries to make herself invisible -- it's not hard to do.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  I'd prefer to think my parents loved
                  all their children equally.

     Violet trails behind them into the kitchen.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I'm sure you'd prefer to think that
                  Santy Claus brought you presents at
                  Christmas, too. If you'd had more
                  than one child, you'd know a parent
                  always has favorites. Mattie Fae was
                  my mother's favorite. Big deal. I got
                  used to it. You were your Daddy's
                  favorite.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   33.
<b>23   CONTINUED:                                                   23
</b>
     Barbara notices Ivy, standing there, Christ. This isn't a
     conversation she'd like to be having in front of her sister.
     Violet sees Ivy too -- could care less.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Broke his heart.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  What was I supposed to do?! Colorado
                  gave Bill twice the money he was
                  making at TU --

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Why are we even getting into this?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You think Daddy wouldn't have jumped
                  at the chance Bill got?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You're wrong there. You never would've
                  gotten Beverly Weston out of Oklahoma.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Daddy gave me his blessing.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  `S what he told you.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Now you're going to tell me the true
                  story, some terrible shit Daddy said
                  behind my back?

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Hey, enough. Everybody's on edge --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Beverly didn't say terrible things
                  behind your back --

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Vi, come on --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  He just told me he's disappointed in
                  you because you settled. He thought                  *
                  you had talent, as a writer.                         *

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  Daddy never said anything like that
                  to you. What a load of absolute
                  horseshit.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   34.
<b>23   CONTINUED:                                                      23
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Oh, horseshit, horseshit, let's all
                  say horseshit. Say horseshit, Bill.

<b>                               BILL
</b>                  Horseshit.

     Violet goes. Barb and Bill exchange a look. Barb looks to
     Ivy, who's blank. Barb takes a beat, follows Violet.


<b>24   INT. BATHROOM - LATE AFTERNOON                                  24
</b>
     Violet is closing the bathroom door.       Barb stops her.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Are you high?

<b>                               VIOLET
</b>                  Excuse me.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  I mean literally. You taking
                  something?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  A muscle relaxer.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Listen to me: I will not go through
                  this with you again.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I don't know what you're talking
                  about.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  These fucking pills? Calls at three                     *
                  AM about people in your backyard?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Stop yelling at me!

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  The police, all the rest of it?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  It's not the same thing. I didn't have
                  a reason.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  So now it's okay to get hooked because
                  you have a reason.
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   35.
<b>24   CONTINUED:                                                    24
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I'm not hooked on anything.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I don't want to know if you are or
                  not, I'm just saying I won't go --

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                  I'm not.   I'm in pain.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Because of your mouth.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Yes, because my mouth burns from
                  the chemotheeeahh --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Are you in a lot of pain?

     Violet starts to break down, sits on the lidded toilet.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Yes, I'm in pain. I have got...
                  gotten cancer. In my mouth. And it
                  burns like a... bullshit. And
                  Beverly's disappeared and you're
                  yelling at me.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I'm not yelling at you.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You couldn't come home when I got
                  cancer but as soon as Beverly
                  disappeared you rushed back --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I'm sorry... you're right. I'm sorry.

     Barbara kneels, takes her mother's hand.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  Know where I think he is? I think he
                  got some whiskey, a carton of
                  cigarettes, and a couple of good spy
                  novels... I think he got out on the
                  boat, steered it to a nice spot, close
                  to shore... and he's fishing, and
                  reading, and drinking, maybe even
                  writing a little. I think he'll walk
                  right through that door any time.
                          "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft    36.


<b>25   INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY/STAIRS/ATTIC ROOM - TWILIGHT           25
</b>
     Jean walks down the hall, perusing photos of her ancestors.
     Rail-thin, sunburned dust bowl farmers, WWII GIs standing in
     front of battered Packards before shipping out to die on the
     beaches of Normandy. Violet and Bev on their wedding day.
     Jean's mother and aunts in grade school, with prom dates.

     The photos end in a doorway that leads to a narrow, wooden
     staircase. Jean climbs it to --


<b>26   INT. THE ATTIC BEDROOM - TWILIGHT                            26
</b>
     Finds Johnna on her bed in the small ascetic attic room,
     reading T.S. Eliot. Jean KNOCKS on the open door.

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               Hi, again... Am I bugging you?

<b>                         JOHNNA
</b>               No, do you need something?

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               No, I thought maybe you'd like to
               smoke a bowl with me?

<b>                         JOHNNA
</b>               No, thank you.

<b>                          JEAN
</b>               Okay. I didn't know.
                   (beat)
               Do you mind if I smoke a bowl?

<b>                          JOHNNA
</b>               I.   No, I --

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               Mom and Dad don't mind. You won't
               get into trouble or anything.

     Johnna is clearly a bit uncomfortable. But:

<b>                          JOHNNA
</b>               Okay.

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               Okay. You sure?

     From her pocket, Jean takes a glass pipe and a bud.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   37.
<b>26   CONTINUED:                                                      26
</b>
<b>                            JEAN (CONT'D)
</b>                  I say they don't mind. If they knew
                  I smuggled this on the plane? And sat
                  there sweating like in that movie
                  Midnight Express. Did you see that?

<b>                            JOHNNA
</b>                  I don't think so.

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  I just mean they don't mind that I
                  smoke pot. Mom kind of does. I think
                  cause Dad smokes pot too, and she
                  wishes he didn't.
                      (smokes, offers pipe)
                  You sure?

<b>                               JOHNNA
</b>                  Yes.   No.    I'm fine.

     Jean notices a framed photo on the night stand.

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  Wow, are those your parents?

<b>                            JOHNNA
</b>                  Mm-hm, their wedding picture.

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  Their costumes are fantastic.    Are
                  they still together?

<b>                            JOHNNA
</b>                  My father passed away last year.

<b>                              JEAN
</b>                  Oh.    Sorry.

<b>                            JOHNNA
</b>                  That's okay. Thank you.

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  Were you close?

<b>                             JOHNNA
</b>                  Yes.   Very.

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  My Mom and Dad are separated now.

<b>                               JOHNNA
</b>                  I'm sorry.
                                "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   38.
<b>26    CONTINUED:                                                      26
</b>
<b>                              JEAN
</b>                   He's fucking one of his grad students.
                   I don't care --aside from the pathetic
                   English and Humanities cliche, like
                   all those departmental dicks fucking
                   their students -- he can fuck who he
                   wants and that's who teachers meet,
                   students. He was just a turd the way
                   he didn't give Mom a chance to respond
                   or anything. What sucks now is she's
                   on my ass cause she's afraid I'll have
                   some post-divorce freak-out and become
                   some heroin addict or shoot everybody
                   at school. Or God forbid, lose my
                   virginity. I don't know what it is
                   about Dad splitting that put Mom on
                   hymen patrol.
                       (then)
                   Don't say anything about Mom and Dad;
                   okay? They want to play it low key.


<b>A27   INT. BEVERLY'S STUDY - NIGHT                                   A27
</b>
      Bill stands in Beverly's empty study. Absorbing the room, the
      man, the stillness. Picks at the papers on the desk without
      specific purpose. Turns to one of the many bookcases,
      eventually finds a book, smiles.


<b>27    EXT. WESTON HOUSE FRONT PORCH - NIGHT                           27
</b>
      Barbara sits on the front steps. It's dark now, but still
      very hot. Moths bat at the porch lights. Bill comes out              *
      carrying a Coke, shares it with Barb.                                *

<b>                                BILL
</b>                   Ivy leave?

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                       (she nods)
                   I'd forgotten about the lightning
                   bugs.

      Around the yard, flitting in and out of the low hanging
      boughs of the trees.

<b>                             BILL
</b>                   Look what I found...

      She turns, he holds a thin hardback copy of Meadowlark.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   39.
<b>27   CONTINUED:                                                   27
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  We have copies.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  I don't remember a hardback edition.
                  Think this is worth something... first
                  edition, hardback, mint condition?
                  Academy Fellowship, Wallace Stevens
                  Award? This book was a big deal.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  It wasn't that big a deal.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  In those circles, it was.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Those are small circles.

     He opens the book, perusing the first pages.       Reads.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  "Dedicated to my Violet." That's nice.
                  Christ, probably every word he wrote
                  after this he had to be thinking,
                  "What are they going to say, are they
                  going to compare it to Meadowlark?"

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Jean go to bed?

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Just turned out the light. You'd
                  think at some point, you just write
                  something anyway and who cares what
                  they say about it. I don't know --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Will you shut up about that fucking
                  book?! You are just dripping with
                  envy over these thirty poems my father
                  wrote back in the late sixties, for
                  God's sake. Y'hear yourself?

     Bill's taken aback, but doesn't want to overreact.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  I have great admiration for these
                  poems --
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   40.
<b>27   CONTINUED:                                                   27
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  My father didn't write anymore for a
                  lot of reasons, but critical opinion
                  was not one of them, hard as that may
                  be for you to believe.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  What are you attacking me for?   I
                  haven't done anything.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  I'm sure that's what you tell Sissy,
                  too, so she can comfort you, reassure
                  you, "No, Billy, you haven't done
                  anything."

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Why are you bringing that up?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  They're all symptoms of your male
                  menopause, whether it's you
                  struggling with the "creative
                  question," or screwing a girl who
                  still wears a retainer.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  All right, look, I'm not going to be
                  held hostage here while you attack
                  me. And her name is Cindy.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I know her stupid name -- do me the
                  courtesy of recognizing when I'm
                  demeaning you.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Violet really has a way of putting
                  you in attack mode, you know that?
                  You feel such rage for her you
                  can't help dishing it --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Psychoanalyze me right now, I skin
                  you.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  You may not agree with my methods,
                  but you know I'm right --
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   41.
<b>27   CONTINUED:                                                   27
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  "Your methods." Thank you, Doctor,
                  but I actually don't need any help
                  from my mother to feel rage.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  You want to argue? Is that what you
                  need to do? Pick a subject, alright,
                  let me know what it is, so I have a
                  fighting --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  The subject is me! I am the subject,
                  you narcissistic motherfucker! I am
                  in pain! I need help!

     Barbara heads into the yard to get away from him.


<b>28   INT. WESTON HOUSE, UPSTAIRS ROOM - CONTINUOUS                28
</b>
     Jean's on the small bed in the darkened room. Staring at the
     ceiling, listening to her parents argue.


<b>29   EXT. WESTON HOUSE FRONT PORCH - NIGHT                        29
</b>
     Bill chases Barbara into the yard.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  I've copped to being a narcissist.
                  We're the products of a narcissistic
                  generation.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You can't do it, can you? You can't
                  talk about me for two seconds --

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  You called me a narcissist!

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  You do understand that it hurts,
                  to go from sharing a bed with you
                  for twenty-three years to sleeping
                  by myself.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  I'm here, now.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   42.
<b>29   CONTINUED:                                                      29
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Oh, men always say shit like that,
                  as if the past and the future don't
                  exist.

     Jean listens in the dark to her parents fighting -- as she
     has many times before. Heads out into the hallway to screen
     door leading to the upstairs porch.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  It's just horseshit, to avoid
                  talking about the things they're
                  afraid to say.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  I'm not necessarily keen on the notion
                  of saying things that would hurt you.

<b>                               BARBARA
</b>                  Like what?

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  We have enough on our hands with your
                  parents right now, let's not revisit
                  this.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  When did we visit this to begin with?
                  I still don't know what happened. Do
                  I bore you, intimidate you, disgust
                  you? Is this just about the pleasures
                  of young flesh, teenage pussy? I
                  really need to know.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  You need to know now? With Beverly
                  missing, and your mother crazy as a
                  loon? You want to do this now?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You're right. I'll just hunker down
                  for a cozy night's sleep upstairs.
                  Next to my husband.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  This discussion deserves our   care.
                  And patience. We'll both be    in a
                  better frame of mind to talk   about
                  this once your father's come   home.

     Bill turns, starts back for the house.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft      43.


<b>30      INT. WESTON HOUSE BEDROOM - NIGHT                             30
</b>
        Jean sees her father coming, hears his footsteps approaching
        across the wooden porch below, the screen door opens quietly.
        She slips back into her room and bed, but he doesn't stop.

        Jean waits, listening for her mother.   She doesn't come.


<b>31      EXT. SKIATOOK LAKE - NIGHT                                    31
</b>
        We're on the old wooden dock, watching a man walking away
        from us toward an aluminum rowboat tied haphazardly to the
        dock in the moonlight. He leans down to untie the boat,
        looks back at us, directly into camera -- Beverly.

        Now we're traveling BELOW the surface of the lake, through
        its dark, tenebrous waters on the moonlit night. The
        rhythmic SLAP of gentle waves. We're underwater, light
        fractures and scatters above us. We've been here before as --

        A rowboat SLIPS across our field of vision.   It's aluminum
        bottom cuts through the calm above.

        Oars dip on either side, propelling the small craft. It
        slows. Stops. Bobs gently. We wait, watch --

        Until, suddenly, something hits the surface above, exploding
        the calm, coming at us fast, sinking.


<b>32      INT. THE ATTIC - NIGHT                                        32
</b>
        Johnna wakes with a start. Sits up, listens intently.


<b>33      EXT. WESTON HOUSE - NIGHT                                     33
</b>
        Johnna steps out onto the second floor porch balcony, finds a
        police car approaching in the distance, headlights cutting
        through the dark country night.


<b>34/35   INT. WESTON HOUSE STAIRWAY - NIGHT                        34/35
</b>
        Barefoot, Johnna quietly descends the stairs. Approaches the
        front door, left open to let in the cool night air. Undoes
        the screen door latch. Steps outside.

        Watches the car arrive. The driver's door opens, a sheriff
        gets out, silhouetted against the police flashers behind him.
                           "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   44.


<b>36   INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - MOMENTS LATER                       36
</b>
     Barbara, bleary-eyed, moves quickly down the dark hall in
     her robe. Bill follows in his boxers and T-shirt, pulling
     on pants. Barb goes to Vi's door, KNOCKS.

<b>                           BARBARA
</b>               Mom?

     She opens the door. Over her we FIND: Violet, entombed in
     her room. Squinting against the intrusive hall light.

<b>                         BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>               Mom, wake up, the sheriff's here.

<b>                         VIOLET
</b>               Did you call them?    I dig in call
               them.

<b>                           BARBARA
</b>               Mom.    The sheriff is here.

<b>                         VIOLET
</b>               Inna esther?

<b>                           BARBARA
</b>               What?

<b>                         VIOLET
</b>               Inna esther broke. `N pays me
               `em...sturck...struck.

<b>                          BILL
</b>               Come on.   Leave her there.

     Barbara does, starts for the staircase, meets the just
     awakened Jean coming out of her room, concerned.

<b>                         BILL (CONT'D)
</b>               Go back to bed, sweetheart....

     Barbara descends the stairs, trailed by Bill. The SHERIFF
     waits on the porch, late-forties, handsome, Stetson in hand.

     They go to him, but WE HANG BACK with Jean, watching the
     scene outside unfold. Bill shakes the Sheriff's hand. The
     Sheriff speaks earnestly to Barbara and Bill.

     We can't hear what's being said, only murmurs until --
     Barbara sinks to her knees. Bill holds her. Jean watches.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   45.


<b>37   INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT                                         37
</b>
     Johnna enters, snaps on the light, starts a pot of coffee.
     Stoic, inscrutable.


<b>38   EXT. WESTON HOUSE DRIVEWAY - JUST BEFORE DAWN                38
</b>
     A big pre-dawn sky is changing from black to blue. The
     Sheriff walks to his cruiser, kills the flashers. Bill joins
     him, still barefoot.

<b>                         BILL
</b>               What happened?

<b>                         SHERIFF
</b>               Couple old boys running jug lines in
               the lake hooked him. Pulled him up.

<b>                         BILL
</b>               He drowned. That's how he died, from
               drowning?

<b>                            SHERIFF
</b>               Looks it.     Yes, sir.

     Bill looks off.   Song birds begin their pre-dawn chatter.

<b>                         BILL
</b>               Is there any way to determine if
               he... I mean is this an accident,
               or suicide --?

<b>                         SHERIFF
</b>               There's really no way to tell.

<b>                         BILL
</b>               What's your guess?

<b>                         SHERIFF
</b>               ...Suicide.

     And now the full weight of it hits Bill. After a moment --

<b>                         BILL
</b>               How does a a person jump in the
               water... and choose not to swim?


<b>39   INT. WESTON GIRL'S BEDROOM - PRE-DAWN                        39
</b>
     Barb pulls on clothes, rakes a brush through her hair. Jean
     appears in the door, watches her. After a moment:
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   46.
<b>39   CONTINUED:                                                   39
</b>
<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  What about Aunt Ivy?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I guess we'll stop on the way.
                  Christ, I need to call Karen, too.
                  Why the fuck am I brushing my hair?

     She drops the brush. And then an odd sound intrudes from
     downstairs, a song: "Lay Down, Sally" by Eric Clapton.


<b>40   INT. LIVING ROOM - PRE-DAWN                                  40
</b>
     The music is LOUD. We follow Barbara and Jean halfway down
     the stairs to REVEAL: Violet, high as a kite, doing a jerky
     little dance by the stereo. The Sheriff stands uncomfortably
     by the door, his hat in hand. She shuffles over to him.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Izza story. Barely's back.    Did sum
                  Beer-ley come home?

<b>                            SHERIFF
</b>                  Ma'am?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Gizza cig... some cigezze?    Cig-zezz,
                  cig-zizz... cig-uhzzz...

     She laughs at her inability to speak. He takes a Pall Mall
     from his shirt pocket, hands it to her. Lights it for her.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  In the archa, archa-tex? I'm in
                  the bottom. Inna bottom of them.
                      (and)
                  Mm, good beat, right?

     He nods.   Bill comes back in from outside.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Barbara?! Is Barbara here?!

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                      (quietly)
                  Right here, Mom...

     Johnna steps in from the kitchen, pensively observing.

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                  Mm, good beat, right?   Idn't it's a
                  good beat?
<b>                             (MORE)
</b>                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   47.
<b>40   CONTINUED:                                                   40
</b><b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Mmmm, I been on the music... pell man
                  onna sheriff. Armen in tandel
                  s'lossle, s'lost? Lost?! From the day,
                  the days. Am Beerly... and Beverly
                  lost?

     Violet abandons her dance, separates invisible threads in the
     air. The others stand frozen, staring at her.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  And then you're here. And Barbara, and
                  then you're here, and Beverly, and
                  then you're here, and then you're
                  here, and then you're here, and then
                  you're here, and then you're here...


<b>41   EXT. SKIATOOK LAKE ROAD - DAWN                               41
</b>
     The sun's just topped the horizon, throws long early shadows
     across the flat expanse of prairie. Scattered trees, a
     ribbon of asphalt leading to a distant lake, telephone poles.

     We're HIGH ABOVE the country road, following the Sheriff
     cruiser below. Barb's rental sedan trails behind.

<b>                            BARBARA (OS)
</b>                  I used to go out with that boy.
                  That man.


<b>42   INT. RENTAL CAR (MOVING) - EARLY MORNING                     42
</b>
     Bill drives, Ivy up front with him. Barbara sits in the back
     with Jean. Watches the sheriff's car ahead.

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  What man? The Sheriff?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  In high school. He was my prom date.

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  You're kidding.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Day of the prom, his father got
                  drunk and stole his car, stole his
                  own son's car, went somewhere, Mexico.
                  Deon showed up at the door. He'd been
                  crying. Confessed he didn't have a
                  way to take me to the prom.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   48.
<b>42   CONTINUED:                                                   42
</b>
     The cruiser slows, pulls through a pipe gate and over a
     cattle-crossing, heads for a small collection of emergency
     vehicles parked around a brush-strewn cove. Bev's old Chevy
     pick-up truck sits to one side.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  So we got a six-pack and broke into
                  the chapel, stayed up all night
                  talking and kissing. Now here he
                  is, showing me --
                      (fights her emotions)
                  It's so surreal. Thank God we can't
                  tell the future. We'd never get out
                  of bed.

     The cars stop.    The Sheriff gets out.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Let me go first, see what they need.

     Bill goes.    Barb fixes Jean with a look.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Listen to me: die after me, all right?
                  I don't care what else you do, where
                  you go, how you screw up your life,
                  just... survive. Outlive me, please.

     They watch the men. A resolute Bill returns to get Barbara
     and Ivy. The sisters climb out, follow him to the water's
     edge. Jean waits a moment, then steps out of the car.

     Watches her father lead her mother down the small cracked
     concrete boat ramp to where the Sheriff waits by a covered
     body. As the Sheriff pulls back the tarp --


<b>43   INT. A STERILE ROOM - DAY                                    43
</b>
     White walls, bright overhead light. We're CLOSE on a man's
     pale, lifeless hand. Another hand enters frame with a
     sponge, begins cleaning off the mud, filth.


<b>44   EXT. WESTON HOUSE - DAY                                      44
</b>
     The Weston clan walks to Beverly's Lincoln, Bill, Jean. Barb
     and Ivy help a distraught Violet. All wear mourning black.


<b>45   INT. THE STERILE ROOM - DAY                                  45
</b>
     Beverly's sodden shoes are removed, his socks.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   49.
<b>45   CONTINUED:                                                      45
</b>
     His limp, greyish arm is guided into a starched white shirt-
     sleeve. The buttons carefully buttoned.


<b>46   INT. BEVERLY'S CAR (MOVING) - DAY                               46
</b>
     Bill drives. Jean beside him. Barbara and Ivy sit in the back
     seat, flanking Violet. They ride in silence. We study their
     faces, the brown countryside outside.

     Bill notices something in his rearview, a red speck, coming
     up fast, very fast. A sports car.

     It's suddenly right behind them, filling his mirrors. It
     waits for a semi loaded down with massive circular hay bales
     to pass in the opposite lane, then --

     ROARS around. A Ferrari, it's throaty V-10 RUMBLING as it
     SCREAMS past, accelerates down the road. Bill and Jean
     exchange a look, watch it disappear.


<b>47   INT. THE STERILE ROOM - DAY                                     47
</b>
     Strong male hands lift Beverly's now dressed body carefully
     and place it into the casket. Adjust the pillow, comb his
     hair into place, fold his hands across his chest.

     We never see his face, never see his whole body. Only these
     small, intimate pieces.


<b>48   INT/EXT. CAR/FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH OF PAWHUSKA - DAY             48
</b>
     A few mourners enter the church as Bill pulls in to park,
     discovers the Ferrari already there. A woman emerging.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Holy shit, that's Karen.

     KAREN WESTON, forty, lithe, climbing from the car.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  Do you remember your Aunt Karen?

<b>                               JEAN
</b>                  Kind of...

     STEVE HEIDEBRECHT, fifty, greying, athletic, tan and
     handsome, gets out of the driver's side.

<b>                            BARBARA                                       *
</b>                  That must be this year's man.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   50.
<b>48   CONTINUED:                                                      48
</b>
     Mattie Fae and Charlie are waiting for them, start over as
     Violet emerges into the blinding sun. Recoils slightly.
     Mattie Fae catches her, whispers comforts into her ear, helps
     her toward the church steps.

     We stay back, watching the Westons enter the church --

<b>                               KAREN (VO)
</b>                  I spent so    much time in our bedroom
                  pretending    my pillow was my husband
                  and did he    like the dinner I made and
                  where were    we going to vacation that
                  winter and    he'd surprise me with
                  tickets to    Belize and we'd kiss.


<b>49   INT. BEVERLY'S LINCOLN (MOVING) - AFTERNOON                     49
</b>
     Barbara drives, Karen beside her. Heat radiates off the
     road. They follow Charlie's Caddie, Vi and Ivy visible in
     the Caddie's back seat window ahead of us.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  I mean I'd kiss my pillow, and then
                  I'd tell him I'd been to the doctor
                  that day and I'd found out I was
                  pregnant. I know how pathetic that
                  sounds, but it was innocent enough.
                  Then real life takes over, cause it
                  always does --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  -- uh-huh --

     Here comes the red speck in the rearview again. The Ferrari
     ROARS up behind them, pulls around to pass, HONKS as it
     goes. Barb catches a glimpse of Jean in the passenger seat,
     Bill jammed into the tiny back seat.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  Things don't work out like you
                  planned. That pillow was a better
                  husband than any real man I'd ever
                  met; this parade of men fails to live
                  up to your expectations, all of them
                  so much less than Daddy or Bill. You
                  punish yourself, tell yourself it's
                  your fault you can't find a good one.
                  I don't know how well you remember
                  Andrew...

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  No, I remember.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   51.
<b>49   CONTINUED:                                                   49
</b>
<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  I loved him so intensely, so the
                  things he did wrong were just
                  opportunities for me to make things
                  right. If he cheated on me or called
                  me a cunt, I'd think "No, love is
                  forever, so here's an opportunity to
                  make an adjustment in the way you
                  view the world."

     The AC isn't working, Barb's sweating, rolls down her window,
     let's the wind whip her hair around.

<b>                            KAREN (CONT'D)
</b>                  And thank God one day I looked in the
                  mirror and said, "Moron," and walked
                  out, but it kicked off this whole
                  period of reflection, how hard I had
                  screwed it up, where'd I go wrong.
                  That's when I got into those books
                  and discussion groups --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  And Scientology too, right, or
                  something like that --?

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  Exactly, and finally one day, I threw
                  it all out, I said, "It's me, just me
                  with my music on the stereo, my glass
                  of wine and Bloomers my cat. I don't
                  need anything else, I can live my life
                  with myself." I got my license, threw
                  myself into my work, sold a lot of
                  houses, and that's when I met Steve.

     Charlie slows, signals, turns onto the gravel road leading to
     the Weston house. Barb follows, Karen still going strong --

<b>                            KAREN (CONT'D)
</b>                  That's how it works, you only find
                  it when you're not looking, you turn
                  around and there it is: Steve. Ten
                  years older than me, but a thinker,
                  and he's just so good. He's a good
                  man and he's good to me and he's good
                  for me.


<b>50   INT. WESTON HOUSE STAIRWAY/UPSTAIRS HALL - AFTERNOON         50
</b>
     Barbara leads Karen upstairs, Karen carries her suitcase,
     Barbara carries Steve's. Karen's still talking.
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   52.
<b>50   CONTINUED:                                                    50
</b>
<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  The best thing about him, for me, is
                  that now what I think about is now.
                  I live now. My focus, my life, my
                  world is now. I don't give a care
                  about the past anymore, the mistakes
                  I made, the way I thought. And you
                  can't plan the future cause as soon
                  as you do, something happens, some
                  terrible thing happens --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Like your father drowning himself.

     They enter a bedroom, dump the luggage on the bed.

<b>                             KAREN
</b>                  That's exactly what I mean. You take
                  it as it comes, here and now! Steve
                  had a huge presentation today for some
                  big-wig government guys who could be
                  important for his business, something
                  he's put together for months, and as
                  soon as we heard about Daddy, he
                  cancelled his meeting. He has his
                  priorities straight. And you know what
                  the kicker is?
                      (beat)
                  Do you know what the kicker --?

     Barbara heads for the fan on the dresser, flips it on.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  What's the kicker?

<b>                             KAREN
</b>                  We're going to Belize on our
                  honeymoon!

     Barb sticks her face into the fan. Karen watches, what?

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  Sorry.   Hot flash.


<b>51   INT. VIOLET'S BEDROOM - DAY                                   51
</b>
     Violet pulls a dress from the closet; Mattie Fae sits,
     rooting through a box of photos; Ivy stands by the door.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  It won't kill you to try it on --
                              "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft    53.
<b>51   CONTINUED:                                                      51
</b>
<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Oh, this is a sweet one, Vi --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I find this a tidge morbid, frankly --

<b>               MATTIE FAE                             VIOLET
</b>     Look at this, Ivy --                 What's morbid about it?

<b>                            IVY (CONT'D)
</b>                  It's not my style, Mom.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You don't have a style, that's the
                  point.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Where was this taken?

<b>                              VIOLET
</b>                  New York.    On the first book tour.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I don't have your style, I have a
                  style of my own.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You wore a suit to your father's
                  funeral. A woman doesn't wear a suit
                  to a funeral.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  God, you're weird; it's a black suit.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You look like a magician's assistant.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Little Charles has been talking about
                  moving to New York. Can you picture
                  that?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Don't discourage him now --

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  He wouldn't last a day in that city.
                  They'd tear him apart.

<b>          MATTIE FAE (CONT'D)                           IVY
</b>     I could kill that kid --             Why do you feel it necessary
                                          to insult me?
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   54.
<b>51   CONTINUED:                                                   51
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Stop being so sensitive.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  He overslept? For his Uncle's
                  funeral? A noon service?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I'm sure there's more to the story --

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Don't make excuses for him. That's
                  what Charlie does. Thirty-seven years
                  old and can't drive? Who can't drive?

     Violet pulls more and more clothes from the closet, dumping
     them on the bed. The pile is getting very large.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE (CONT'D)
</b>                  I've seen a chimp drive.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Why are you giving away your clothes?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  All this shit's going. I don't plan
                  to spend the rest of my days looking
                  at what used to be. I want that shit
                  in the office gone, I want these
                  clothes I'm never going to wear gone.
                  I mean look at these fucking shoes --
                      (holds up spiked heels)
                  Even if I didn't fall on my face, can
                  you imagine anything less attractive,
                  my swollen ankles and varicose veins?
                  And my toenails, good God: anymore
                  they could dig through cement.


<b>52   INT. THE KITCHEN - AFTERNOON                                 52
</b>
     Johnna's at the sink, washing and breaking beans, every
     kitchen surface is covered with the large dinner she's
     preparing. Barbara enters, Karen still pursuing her.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  You get a read off Steve?   Did
                  you like him?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  We said two words to each other --
                                 "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   55.
<b>52   CONTINUED:                                                        52
</b>
<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  You get a feel, though, don't you?
                  Did you get a feel?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  He seemed very nice, sweetheart --

     Barb grabs a glass from the cabinet, opens the freezer for
     ice, lets her head linger in the cold.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  He is, and --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  -- but what I think doesn't matter.
                  I'm not marrying him --

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  I guess what I'm telling you is that
                  I'm happy. I've been unhappy most of
                  my life,   my adult life. I doubt
                  you've been aware of that. I know our
                  lives have led us apart, you, me and
                  Ivy. Maybe we're not as close as, as
                  close as some families --

     Barb gives up on the freezer, fills her glass with iced tea.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Yeah, we really need to talk about
                  Mom, what to do about Mom --

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  -- but I think I haven't wanted to
                  live my unhappiness in view of my
                  family. But now I'm just really
                  happy. I'd like us to get to know
                  each other a little better.

     Barbara stares at her, what is she talking about?

<b>                                 BARBARA
</b>                  Yes.    Yes.

     Karen wraps her arms around Barbara.

<b>                             BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  Okay.   Yes.
                           "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   56.


<b>53   EXT. PAWHUSKA LIQUOR STORE PARKING LOT - AFTERNOON          53
</b>
     The Ferrari pulls into the lot. Bill crawls out, heads for
     the store. An anxious Jean calls after him.

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               Hurry, okay?

<b>                         BILL
</b>               I will, sweetheart.

     Steve joins Jean, leans against the car. Throughout the
     following they watch Bill shop for wine inside.

<b>                         STEVE
</b>               Is it always this hot?

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               Usually it's hotter.

<b>                         STEVE
</b>               Hard to imagine.
                   (a beat)
               How old are you, about, seventeen?

<b>                           JEAN
</b>               Fourteen.

<b>                         STEVE
</b>               Fourteen, right... Know what I was
               doing when I was fourteen? Cattle
               processing. Know what that is?

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               It doesn't sound good.

<b>                         STEVE
</b>               Slaughterhouse sanitation.

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               That's disgusting.

<b>                         STEVE
</b>               I don't recommend it. But hey.
               Put food on the table. Get it?

     An impatient Jean watches her father comparing wines inside.

<b>                         STEVE (CONT'D)
</b>               What's that smell?

     She sniffs. Doesn't smell much of anything really.
                              "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   57.
<b>53   CONTINUED:                                                     53
</b>
<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  Dumpster over there?

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Nah, that's not what I'm smelling.

     He sniffs the air, then sniffs her.

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  What are you doing?

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Do I smell what I think I smell?

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  What do you smell?

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  What do you think I smell?

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  I think you smell that dumpster.

     He whiffs, hard, breathing her in.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Is that... pot? You smoking pot?

<b>                              JEAN
</b>                  No.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  You can tell me.

<b>                              JEAN
</b>                  No.

<b>                             STEVE
</b>                  You a little dope smoker?
                      (beat)
                  Then you are in luck. Because I
                  just happen to have some tasty shit.
                  And I am going to hook you up.

     Bill pays inside, motions to Jean that he's hurrying.

<b>                             JEAN
</b>                  That'd be so great. I just smoked my
                  last bowl and I really need to get
                  fucked up.

<b>                              STEVE
</b>                  You what?
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft      58.
<b>53   CONTINUED:                                                      53
</b>
<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  I really need to get fucked up --

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  You need to get what?

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  You're bad --

     Bill hustles out of the store, carrying several bags.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  No Pinots, but they had some decent
                  California Merlots.

     Crawls into the car. Steve grins to Jean over the roof of
     the car, climbs in behind the wheel.


<b>54   INT. VIOLET'S BEDROOM - DAY                                     54
</b>
     The closet is mostly empty now, the bed overflowing with
     discarded clothes. Mattie Fae nurses a cocktail, hands a             *
     photo to Violet.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Look at me.
                      (shows photo to Ivy)
                  Look at me.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  You're beautiful, Mom.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I was beautiful. Not anymore.

<b>              MATTIE FAE                               IVY
</b>     Oh, now --                           You're still beautiful.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  One of those lies we tell to give us
                  comfort. Women are beautiful when
                  they're young and not after. Men can
                  still preserve their sex appeal into
                  old age. Not those men like you see
                  with shorts and those little purses
                  around their waists. Some men can
                  maintain a weary masculinity. Women
                  just get old and fat and wrinkly.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  I beg your pardon?
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   59.
<b>54   CONTINUED:                                                   54
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Think about the last time you went to
                  the mall and saw some sweet little gal
                  and thought she's a cute trick. What
                  makes her that way? Taut skin, firm
                  boobs, an ass above her knees.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  I'm still very sexy, thank you very
                  much.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You're about as sexy as a wet card-
                  board box, Mattie Fae, you and me
                  both. Look, wouldn't we be better off
                  if we stopped lying about these things
                  and told the truth? "Women aren't sexy
                  when they're old." I can live with
                  that. Can you live with that?

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  What about Sophia Loren? What about
                  Lena Horne? She stayed sexy till
                  she was eighty.

     Violet finds something else in the closet for Ivy to try.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  The world is round. Get over it.
                  Now try this dress on.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I'm sorry, I won't.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You don't know how to attract a man.
                  I do. That's something I always --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  We just buried my father, I'm not
                  trying to attract --!

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I'm not talking about today, dummy,
                  this is something you can wear --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I have a man. All right?   I have
                  a man.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You said you weren't looking for
                  a man --
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   60.
<b>54   CONTINUED:                                                      54
</b>
<b>                            IVY
</b>                  And I'm not. Because I have one.
                  Okay? Now will you leave it alone?

<b>                 VIOLET                              MATTIE FAE
</b>     No, I won't leave it alone.           No, let's not leave it alone.

<b>                            IVY (CONT'D)
</b>                  I wish you both could see the
                  brainsick looks on your faces --

<b>                               VIOLET
</b>                  Who is it?

<b>                             IVY
</b>                  Nobody.   Forget it --

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Tell us, is he someone from school?
                  How old is he, what's he do --?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I'm not telling you anything so --

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  You have to tell us something!

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  No, I really don't.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Are you in love, Ivy?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I...I don't...I'm...

     Ivy bursts into awkward laughter, Vi and Mattie squeal.


<b>55   EXT. WESTON HOUSE - AFTERNOON                                   55
</b>
     The Ferrari ROARS up the drive. Jean jumps out, races into
     the house. Bill and Steve emerge, grab the wine.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  No, we maintain the accounts off-
                  shore, just until we get approvals.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  To get around approvals?
                                "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   61.
<b>55   CONTINUED:                                                       55
</b>
<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  To get around approvals until we get
                  approvals. There's a lot of red tape,
                  bureaucracy, I don't know how much you
                  know about Florida, Florida politics --

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Only what I read and that's --

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Right, right, this kind of business
                  in particular.

     Charlie, keys in hand, comes out, heading for his Caddie.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  ...Charlie?

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Picking up Little Charles.

     Charlie climbs in behind the wheel, pulls away.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Little Charles?

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  His son. I'm sorry, what is your                         *
                  business again?

     They start up the porch steps with the wine.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  You know, it's essentially security
                  work. The situation in the Middle East
                  is perpetually dangerous, so there's a
                  tremendous amount of money involved.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Security work. You mean... mercenary?


<b>56   INT. KITCHEN/WESTON LIVING ROOM - AFTERNOON                      56
</b>
     Bill and Steve enter. Barbara's in the dining room with
     Karen and Mattie Fae setting the table. Goes for the men.

<b>                                BARBARA
</b>                  Give.   Me.     The wine.

     She pulls a bottle of Merlot from Bill's grocery bag. Hears
     something, looks into the living room as she passes. Jean
     has just turned on the TV, LOUD. Barbara stares for a beat.
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   62.
<b>56   CONTINUED:                                                    56
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  Is that what you were in such a hurry
                  to get home for? What the hell's on
                  TV that's so important you?

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  Phantom of the Opera, 1925.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  For God's sake, you can get it at
                  any Blockbuster.

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  They're showing it with the scene
                  in color restored.

     Steve's appeared in the living room archway.

<b>                             STEVE
</b>                  Cool.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Let me make sure I've got this: when
                  you threw a fit about going to the
                  store with your dad... Hey, look at
                  me.
                      (Jean does)
                  And you were so distraught over the
                  start time of your Grandpa's funeral.
                  Was this your concern? Getting back
                  here in time to watch Phantom of the
                  Fucking Opera?

<b>                             JEAN
</b>                  I guess.

     Barb gives Jean a withering look, exits. Bill takes the wine
     from Steve, follows. Steve lingers, watching the TV.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Phantom of the Opera, huh?

<b>                             JEAN
</b>                  Huh-uh.

     Karen enters from the dining room, sidles up to Steve.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  Hi, doodle.

<b>                             STEVE
</b>                      (focused on the TV)
                  Hey, baby.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   63.
<b>56   CONTINUED:                                                   56
</b>
<b>                            KAREN
</b>                      (in super-baby-voice)
                  Hi, doodle!

     Steve turns to her, embraces her. They kiss. His hands
     wander, squeeze her ass. She giggles, then breaks it.

<b>                            KAREN (CONT'D)
</b>                  Come on, I want to show you our
                  old fort. Man, the air in here
                  just doesn't move.

     She goes.    He starts, but stops.    Quietly to Jean:

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Hook you up, later.


<b>57   INT/EXT. GREYHOUND BUS/PARKING LOT - AFTERNOON               57
</b>
     We're inside the bus, sitting next to a man, LITTLE CHARLES,
     thirty-seven, rangy and awkward. He stares pensively out at
     the passing Pawhuska storefronts as the bus SLOWS, pulls into
     a parking lot next to the bank.

     He spots Charlie, waiting, drinking a Coke. Little Charles
     exhales, stands. Steps reluctantly out into the heat.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I'm sorry, Dad.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  No need to apologize.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I know Mom's mad at me.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Don't worry about her.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  What did she say?

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Your mother, she says what she says.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I set the alarm. I did.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  I know you did.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   64.
<b>57   CONTINUED:                                                      57
</b>
<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I loved Uncle Bev, you know that.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Stop apologizing.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  The power must've gone out. I woke
                  up and the clock was blinking noon.
                  That means the power went out, right?

<b>                               CHARLIE
</b>                  It's okay.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I missed his funeral!

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  It's a ceremony. It's ceremonial.
                  It doesn't mean anything compared
                  to what you have in your heart.
                      (and, then)
                  Hold on, comb your hair.

     Charlie hands Little Charles his comb.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  Uncle Bev must be disappointed in me.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Your Uncle Bev has got bigger and
                  better things ahead of him. He
                  doesn't have time for spite. He
                  wasn't that kind of man anyway --

     Charlie starts for the driver's side, stops when he sees
     Little Charles weeping. Returns to him, comforts him.

<b>                            CHARLIE (CONT'D)
</b>                  Hey, hey. It's okay. It's okay, now...

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  Just... I know how things are. I
                  know how they feel about me and
                  something like this... you want to be
                  there for people, and I missed Uncle
                  Bev's funeral, and I know how they
                  feel about me --

<b>                             CHARLIE
</b>                  How who feels about you?    Feels what
                  about you?
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   65.
<b>57   CONTINUED:                                                   57
</b>
<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  All of them. I know what they say.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  They don't say things about you --

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I see how they are. I don't blame
                  them. I'm sorry I let you down, Dad.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  You haven't let me down. You never
                  let me down. Now listen...you're
                  wrong about these people, they love
                  you. Some of them haven't gotten a
                  chance to see what I see: a fine man,
                  very loving, with a lot to offer. Now
                  take this...
                      (a handkerchief)
                  Give me my comb. Stand up straight,
                  look folks in the eye. Stop being so
                  hard on yourself.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I love you, Dad.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Love you too, son.


<b>58   EXT. WESTON BACKYARD - AFTERNOON                             58
</b>
     Barbara bursts out of the back porch screen and into the
     yard, heading to the old barn. Bill follows.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Phantom of the Opera --

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  You don't remember what it was like to
                  be fourteen?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  She's old enough to exhibit a little
                  character. But that's something you
                  normally learn from your parents.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  That's a shot across my bow, right?
                  I missed something.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   66.
<b>58   CONTINUED:                                                      58
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Really? Instilling character: our
                  burden as parents.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  I got that part.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  And you really haven't been much of a
                  parent lately, so it's tough to --

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Just because you and I are struggling
                  with this Gordian knot doesn't mean --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Nice, "Gordian knot," but her fourteen-
                  year-old self might view it differently,
                  might consider it "abandonment" --

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Oh, come on, she's a little more
                  sophisticated than that, don't you
                  think?

     Barbara kicks at an old, stuck, door.       Enters --


<b>59   INT. THE WORKSHOP AT THE BACK OF THE BARN - DAY                 59
</b>
     Makes her way to the back where old dinner chairs hang from
     nails pounded into the overhead beams.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Pretty fucking sophisticated, the
                  restored whatever from Phantom of
                  the Opera, I know that makes your
                  dick hard --

<b>                               BILL
</b>                  Barbara --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Precocious little shit.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  I'm not defending her.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   67.
<b>59   CONTINUED:                                                   59
</b>
<b>                 BARBARA                               BILL
</b>        (voice rising)                       (voice rising)
     I'm not blaming her, because         I'm on your side. How can we
     I don't expect her to act any        fight when I'm on your side?
     differently when her father          Barbara...Barbara, settle
     is a selfish son-of-a-bitch.         down!

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Be a father! Help me!

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  I am her father, goddamn it!

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Her father in name only!

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  I have not forsook my
                  responsibilities!

     Barbara hands dusty battered chairs back to Bill.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  It's "forsaken," big shot!

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Actually, "forsook" is also an
                  acceptable usage --!

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Oh, "forsook" you and the horse
                  you rode in on --

     Each now with chairs in hand, head out into --


<b>60   EXT. THE BACK YARD - DAY                                      60
</b>
     And the blinding sunlight.    Start back for the house.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  You don't fight fair.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I've seen where that gets me! I'm
                  sick of the whole notion of the
                  enduring female. GROW UP! Cause
                  while you're going through your fifth
                  puberty, the world is falling apart
                  and your kid can't handle it!
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   68.
<b>60   CONTINUED:                                                   60
</b>
<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Our kid is just trying to deal with
                  this goddamn madhouse you've dragged
                  her into.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  This madhouse is my home.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Think about that statement for a
                  second, why don't you?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Jean is here with me because this
                  is a family event.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Jean's here with you because she's
                  a buffer between you and the shrill
                  insanity of your mother.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Y'know, you'd have a lot more
                  credibility if you had any
                  credibility.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  You can't resist, can you?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You're a pretty easy mark.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  You're so goddamn self-righteous,
                  you know? You're so --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Surely you must've known when you
                  started porking Pippi Longstocking
                  you were due for a little self-
                  righteousness, just a smidge of
                  indignation on my part --

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Maybe I split because of it.

     They've reached the back porch stairs. She turns on him.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Is this your confession, then, when
                  you finally unload all?
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   69.
<b>60   CONTINUED:                                                    60
</b>
<b>                            BILL
</b>                  You're thoughtful, Barbara, but you're
                  not open. You're passionate, but
                  you're hard. You're a good, decent,
                  funny, wonderful woman, and I love
                  you, but you're a pain in the ass.

     Bill pushes past her up the stairs, disappears inside.


<b>61   INT. BEVERLY'S STUDY - AFTERNOON                              61
</b>
     Violet stands in the middle of the room. Sunlight streams in
     through the windows surrounding her. Approaches Beverly's
     swivel chair, touches the back, ...slowly spins it ...sits.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  August... your month. Locusts are
                  raging, "Summer psalm become summer
                  wrath." `Course it's only August out
                  there. In here... who knows?
                      (and then)
                  All right... okay. "The Carriage held
                  but just Ourselves," dum-de-dum...mm,
                  best I got... Emily Dickenson's all I
                  got... something something, "Horse's
                  Heads Were Toward Eternity..."

     Produces a bottle of pills, shakes one out, takes it.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  That's for me. One for me.

     Surveys the photos behind his desk. The girls. Vi and Bev
     together in happier times. Picks up the hardback Meadowlark
     Bill left. Finds Beverly's reading glasses on the desk, puts
     them on. Thumbs through it, finds the dedication: simply:

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  For My Violet...

     Violet smiles ruefully, takes another pill.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  For the girls, God love `em.

     Surveys the book with something bordering on disgust.
     Another pill. Sits. Waiting. For what? She's not sure.

<b>                             BARBARA (OS)
</b>                  Mom?!   Food's on the table!

     She takes a final look around, takes one last pill.
                         "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   70.


<b>62   INT. DINING ROOM - AFTERNOON                                62
</b>
     Johnna, Karen, Steve and Mattie Fae carry in serving dishes,
     set them down on the already overladen table. Charlie pours
     himself a sweet tea.

<b>                         KAREN
</b>               This is lovely! You do all this?

<b>                JOHNNA                         MATTIE FAE
</b>     Mm-hmm.                         She's a wonder, this one.

     Bill passes through, carries us into the living room where he
     finds Jean, still watching the movie.

<b>                         BILL
</b>               Turn that off, it's time to eat.

<b>                         JEAN
</b>               Don't suppose I could eat in here?

<b>                         BILL
</b>               You suppose right.

     Ivy comes down the stairs, looking.

<b>                         IVY
</b>               Did I hear Little Charles?

<b>                         CHARLIE
</b>               He went back out to the car.


<b>63   EXT. BACK YARD - AFTERNOON                                  63
</b>
     Ivy steps out onto the porch. Little Charles is by his
     father's car, retrieving a Pyrex dish.

<b>                         LITTLE CHARLES
</b>               Mom's casserole.

     Shuts the door, rests the casserole on the hood.

<b>                         IVY
</b>               They said you overslept.

<b>                         LITTLE CHARLES
</b>               Maybe I purposely accidentally
               overslept. I don't know. I'm sorry.

<b>                         IVY
</b>               Please.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   71.
<b>63   CONTINUED:                                                   63
</b>
<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I know you had one of the worst days
                  of your life and I'm sorry if I --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  We don't have to do that with each
                  other.

     She embraces him, kisses him. He looks toward the house.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  You're breaking our rule.

<b>                             IVY
</b>                  They're on to me. Not us, just me.
                  I told them I was seeing someone. I
                  didn't tell them who. I just wanted
                  you to know, in case it came up.
                      (he stares at her)
                  What?
                      (beat)
                  Charles...

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I adore you.


<b>64   INT. DINING ROOM - AFTERNOON                                 64
</b>
     Barbara, Bill, Mattie Fae, Charlie, Karen, and Steve are
     already seated. The men have removed their suit coats.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Pass the casserole, please?

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  My casserole's coming.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  I'll eat some of yours, too --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                      (calling out)
                  Mom?! Let's eat!

     Little Charles and Ivy enter with the casserole.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  There he is. I wanted to put you at a
                  kid's table but they wouldn't let me.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  Where do you want this?
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft      72.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                      64
</b>
     Ad-lib greetings, hugs, handshakes, Karen's introduction of
     Steve. Ivy slips in and takes her seat. Little Charles goes
     to put Mattie Fae's casserole on the table, but drops it.

     It lands on the floor with a sickening SPLAT.

<b>        LITTLE CHARLES (CONT'D)                       BILL
</b>     Oh Jesus --!                        Whoops.

<b>               MATTIE FAE                             STEVE
</b>     Goddamn it --!                      O-pah!

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  You goddamn clumsy goofball!

<b>             LITTLE CHARLES                         CHARLIE
</b>     Mom, I'm so sorry --                All right, nobody's hurt.

     Little Charles helps Johnna clean up the mess.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE (CONT'D)
</b>                  What about me? I'm hurt.

<b>                CHARLIE                          LITTLE CHARLES
</b>     You're not hurt.                    Mom, Jesus, I'm sorry --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  It's just an accident.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  That's my casserole!

<b>                CHARLIE                              STEVE
</b>     Let it go, Mattie Fae.              It's not a party until
                                         someone spills something.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Jean, you didn't get any chicken.

<b>                BARBARA                               JEAN
</b>     No, she won't --                    I don't eat meat.

<b>                CHARLIE                              STEVE
</b>     You don't eat meat.                 Good for you.

<b>                            CHARLIE (CONT'D)
</b>                  "Don't eat meat." Okay. Who wants
                  chicken? Little Charles, chicken?

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Just put it on his plate for him or
                  he's liable to burn the house down.
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   73.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                    64
</b>
<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  All right, Mattie Fae.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  Mom...!

     Violet enters with a small framed photo of her and Bev.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Barb... will you put this?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Yeah, sure.

     Barbara takes it, places it on the sideboard.

<b>               MATTIE FAE                           KAREN
</b>     That's nice.                       That's sweet.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I see you gentlemen have stripped
                  down to your shirt fronts. I thought
                  we were having a funeral dinner, not
                  a cockfight.

     An awkward beat. The men glumly put their suit coats back on.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Someone should probably say grace.
                      (no response)
                  Barbara?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Uncle Charlie should say it. He's
                  the patriarch around here now.

<b>                             CHARLIE
</b>                  I am?   Oh, I guess I am.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  By default.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Okay.
                      (clears his throat)
                  Dear Lord...

     All bow their heads.

<b>                            CHARLIE (CONT'D)
</b>                  We ask that you watch over this family
                  in this sad time, O Lord...
<b>                            (MORE)
</b>                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   74.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                      64
</b><b>                            CHARLIE (CONT'D)
</b>                  that you bless this good woman and
                  keep her in your, in your... grace.

     A cell phone RINGS, playing the theme from Sanford and Son.
     Steve digs through his pockets, finds the phone, checks it.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  I have to take this.

     Steve hustles into the kitchen to talk on the phone.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  We ask that you watch over Beverly,
                  too, as he, as he... as he... makes
                  his journey. We thank thee, O Lord,
                  that we are able to join together to
                  pay tribute to this fine man, in his
                  house, with his beautiful daughters.
                  We are truly blessed in our, our
                  fellowship, our togetherness, our...
                  our fellowship. Thank thee for the
                  food, O Lord, that we can share this
                  food and replenish our bodies with...
                  nutrients. We ask that you help us...
                  get better. Be better people.

     Steve reenters from the kitchen, snapping his phone shut.

<b>                            CHARLIE (CONT'D)
</b>                  We recognize now more than ever the
                  power, the... joy of family. We ask
                  that you bless and watch over this
                  family. Amen.

<b>                             STEVE
</b>                  Amen.   Sorry folks.

<b>                               BILL
</b>                  Let's eat.

     They begin to eat.     Everyone but Violet, who smokes instead.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Barb, have any use for that sideboard?

<b>                               BARBARA
</b>                  Hm?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  That sideboard there, you have any
                  interest in that?
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   75.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                    64
</b>
<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  This?   Well... no.   I mean, why?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I'm getting rid of a lot of this
                  stuff and I thought you might want
                  that sideboard.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  No, Mom, I... I wouldn't have any
                  way to get that home to Colorado.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  Really pretty.

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                  Mm.   Maybe Ivy'll take it.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I have something like that, remember --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Clearing all this out of here. I
                  want to have a brand new everything.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I. I guess I'm just sort of... not
                  prepared to talk about your stuff.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Suit yourself.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  This food is just spectacular.

<b>                 KAREN                           LITTLE CHARLES
</b>     It's so good --                     Yes, it is --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  You like your food, Mom?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I haven't tried much of it, yet --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Johnna cooked this whole meal by
                  herself.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  `S what she's paid for.

     A silent moment.
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   76.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                    64
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Y'all did know she's getting paid,
                  right?

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Jean, so I'm curious, when you say
                  you don't eat meat, you mean you
                  don't eat meat of any kind?

<b>                             JEAN
</b>                  Right.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  And is that for health reasons, or...?

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  When you eat meat, you ingest an
                  animal's fear.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Ingest what? It's fur?

<b>                             JEAN
</b>                  Fear.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I thought she said --

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  How do you do that? You can't eat
                  fear.

<b>                             JEAN
</b>                  Sure you can. What happens to you,
                  when you feel afraid? Doesn't your
                  body produce all sorts of chemical
                  reactions?

<b>                             CHARLIE
</b>                  Does it?

<b>             LITTLE CHARLES                            IVY
</b>     It does.                             Yes.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  Adrenaline, and, and --

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  Your body goes through a whole
                  chemical process when it
                  experiences fear.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   77.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                   64
</b>
<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  -- yep, and cortisol --

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  Don't you think an animal
                  experiences fear?

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  You bet it does. I used to work in
                  a cattle processing plant, lot of
                  fear flying around that place.

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  So when you eat an animal, you're
                  eating all that fear it felt when
                  it was slaughtered to make food.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Wow. You mean I've been eating fear,
                  what, three times a day for sixty
                  years?

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  This one won't have a meal `less
                  there's meat in it.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  I guess it's the way I was raised,
                  but it just doesn't seem like a
                  legitimate meal `less it has some
                  meat somewhere --

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  If I make a pasta dish of some kind,
                  he'll be like, "Okay, that's good for
                  an appetizer, now where's the meat?"

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  "Where's the meat?" Isn't that some
                  TV commercial, the old lady says,
                  "Where's the meat?"

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  "Beef," "Where's the beef?"

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                      (screeching)
                  "Where's the meat?!" "Where's the
                  meat?!" "Where's the meat?!"

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  That's pleasant.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft    78.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                       64
</b>
<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  I thought the services were lovely.

<b>                 KAREN                                STEVE
</b>     Yes, weren't they --?                Preacher did a fine job.

     Vi sticks her hand out, flat, wiggles it back and forth.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Ehhhhh! I give it a...
                      (repeats gesture)
                  Ehhhhh!

<b>                  KAREN                              BARBARA
</b>     Really?   I thought it was --        Great, now we get some
                                          dramatic criticism.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Too much talk about poetry, teaching.
                  He hadn't written any poetry to speak
                  of since `65 and he never liked
                  teaching worth a damn. Nobody talked
                  about the good stuff. Man was a world-
                  class alcoholic, more'n fifty years.
                  Nobody told the story about that night
                  he got wrangled into giving a talk at
                  that TU alumni dinner...
                      (laughs)
                  Drank a whole bottle of Ron Bocoy
                  White Rum -- don't know why I remember
                  that -- and got up to give this talk,
                  and he fouled himself! Comes back to
                  our table with this huge --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Yeah, I can't imagine why no one told
                  that story.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  I don't know much about poetry, but I
                  thought his poems were extraordinary.
                      (to Bill)
                  And your reading was very fine.

<b>                               BILL
</b>                  Thank you.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                      (to Steve)
                  Who are you?
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   79.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                   64
</b>
<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  Mom, this is my fiance, Steve, I
                  introduced you at the church.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Steve Heidebrecht.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Hide-the-what?

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Heidebrecht.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Hide-a-burrr...German, you're a
                  German.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Well, German-Irish, really, I --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  That's peculiar, Karen, to bring a
                  date to your father's funeral. I
                  know the poetry was good, but I
                  wouldn't have really considered it
                  date material --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Jesus.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  He's not a date, he's my fiance.
                  We're getting married on New Years.
                  In Miami, I hope you can make it.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I don't really see that happening, do
                  you? Steve. That right? Steve?

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Yes, ma'am.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You ever been married before?

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  That's personal.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  I don't mind. Yes, ma'am, I have.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  More'n once?
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft    80.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                    64
</b>
<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Three times, actually, three times
                  before this --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You should pretty much have it down
                  by now, then.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                      (laughs)
                  Right, right --

     Everybody's eating, passing food. Vi turns to Mattie Fae.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I had that one pegged. I mean,
                  look at him, you can tell he's
                  been married.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  I took Steve out to show him the
                  old fort and it's gone!

<b>                  IVY                               KAREN
</b>     That's been gone for years.        That made me so sad!

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  What is this now?

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  Our old fort, where we used to play
                  Cowboys and Indians.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Daddy said rats were getting in there.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Karen! Shame on you! Don't you know
                  not to say Cowboys and Indians? You
                  played Cowboys and Native Americans,
                  right Barb?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  What did you take?   What pills?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Lemme alone --

     Charlie's silverware clatters to the floor.       He appears to be
     having some kind of attack.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Uh-oh!
                              "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   81.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                     64
</b>
<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  What is it?

<b>                              CHARLIE
</b><b>                  UH-OH!
</b>
<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  What's the matter?

<b>               LITTLE CHARLES                         IVY
</b>     Dad --?                             You okay, Uncle --

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  I got a big bite of fear! I'm
                  shakin' in my boots! Fear never
                  tasted so good.

     Laughter.    Charlie digs into his plate ravenously.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Right, right, it's pretty good
                  once you get used to the taste.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I catch her eating a cheeseburger
                  every now and again.

<b>                              JEAN
</b>                  I do not!

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Double cheeseburger, bacon, extra
                  fear.

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  Mom, you are such a liar!

     More laughter. Violet stares at Jean.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Y'know...if I ever called my mom
                  a liar? She would've knocked my
                  goddamn head off my shoulders.

     Silence.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  You girls know there's a will.

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  Mom...
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   82.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                    64
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  We took care of it some time back.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Mom, we don't want to talk about this.

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                  I want to talk about it. What about
                  what I want to talk about, that count
                  for anything?
                      (beat)
                  Bev made some good investments,
                  believe it or not, and we had money
                  for you girls in his will, but we
                  talked it over after some years passed
                  and decided to change things, leave
                  everything to me. We never got
                  around to taking care of it legally,
                  but you should know he meant to
                  leave the money to me.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  Okay.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Okay?
                      (looks to Ivy, Karen)
                  Okay?

<b>                             IVY
</b>                  Okay.

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                  Karen?   Okay?

     Uncertain, Karen looks to Steve, then Barbara.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  Okay.

<b>                             KAREN
</b>                  Okay.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Okay. But now some of this furniture,
                  some of this old shit you can just
                  have. I don't want it, got no use for
                  it. Maybe I should have an auction.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Sure, an auction's a fine idea --
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   83.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                      64
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Some things, though, like the silver,
                  that's worth a pretty penny. But if
                  you like I'll sell it to you,
                  cheaper'n I might get in an auction.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Or you might never get around to
                  the auction and then we can just
                  have it for free after you die.

<b>                               IVY
</b>                  Barbara...

     Beat.   Violet coolly studies Barbara.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You might at that.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  Excuse me, Bill? I'm wondering,
                  the reading you did, those poems --?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Where are you living now, Bill?
                  You want this old sideboard?

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  I beg your pardon.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You and Barbara are separated,
                  right? Or you divorced already?

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  ...We're separated.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                      (to Barbara)
                  Thought you could slip that one
                  by me, didn't you?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  What is the matter with you?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Nobody slips anything by me. I know
                  what's what. Your father thought
                  he's slipping one by me, right? No
                  way. I'm sorry you two're having
                  trouble, maybe you can work it out.
                  Bev'n I separated a few times, course
                  we didn't call it that.
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   84.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                    64
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Help us to benefit from an
                  illustration of your storybook
                  marriage.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Truth is, you can't compete with a
                  younger woman. One of those unfair
                  things in life. Is there a younger
                  woman involved?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You've said enough on this topic,
                  I think.

<b>                             BILL
</b>                  Yes.   There's a younger woman.

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                  Y'see?   Odds're against you there,
                  babe.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Mom believes women don't grow
                  more attractive with age.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  Oh, I disagree, I --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I didn't say they "don't grow more
                  attractive," I said they get ugly.
                  And it's not really a matter of
                  opinion, Karen dear. You've only
                  just started to prove it yourself.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  You're in rare form today, Vi.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  The day calls for it, doesn't it?
                  What form would you have me in?

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  I just don't understand why you're
                  so adversarial.

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                  I'm just truth-telling.
                      (to Barbara)
                  Some people get antagonized by
                  the truth.
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   85.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                    64
</b>
<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Everyone here loves you, dear.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You think you can shame me, Charlie?
                  Blow it out your ass.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Three days ago... I had to identify
                  my father's corpse. Now I'm supposed
                  to sit here and listen to you
                  viciously attack each and every member
                  of this family --

     Violet rises, her voice booming.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Attack my family?! You ever been
                  attacked in your sweet spoiled life?!
                  Tell her `bout attacks, Mattie Fae,
                  tell her what an attack looks like!

<b>               MATTIE FAE                              IVY
</b>     Vi, please --                        Settle down, Mom --

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Stop telling me to settle down, goddam
                  it! I'm not a goddamn invalid! I
                  don't need to be abided, do I?! Am
                  I already passed over?!

<b>                             MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Honey --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                      (points to Mattie Fae)
                  This woman came to my rescue when
                  one of my dear mother's many gentlemen
                  friends was attacking me, with a claw
                  hammer! You think you been attacked?!
                  What do you know about life on these
                  Plains? What do you know about hard
                  times?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I know you had a rotten childhood,
                  Mom. Who didn't?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You DON'T know! You do NOT know! None
                  of you know, `cept this woman right
                  here and that man we buried today!
<b>                            (MORE)
</b>                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   86.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                    64
</b><b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Sweet girl, sweet Barbara, my heart
                  breaks for every time you ever felt
                  pain. I wish I coulda shielded you
                  from it. But if you think for a
                  solitary second you can fathom the
                  pain that man endured in his natural
                  life, you got another think coming.                   *
                  Do you know where your father lived
                  from age four till about ten? Do you?

     No one responds.

<b>                             VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Do you?!

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  No.

<b>                             IVY
</b>                  No.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  In a Pontiac Sedan. With his mother,
                  his father, in a fucking car! Now
                  what do you want to say about your
                  rotten childhood? That's the crux of
                  the biscuit: we lived too hard, then
                  rose too high. We sacrificed
                  everything and we did it all for you.
                  Your father and I were the first in
                  our families to finish high school
                  and he wound up an award-winning poet.
                  You girls, given a college education,
                  taken for granted no doubt, and
                  where'd you wind up?
                      (jabs a finger at Karen)
                  Whadda you do?
                      (jabs a finger at Ivy)
                  Whadda you do?
                      (jabs a finger at Barbara)
                  Who're you? Jesus, you worked as
                  hard as us, you'd all be President.
                  You never had real problems so you got
                  to make all your problems yourselves.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Why are you screaming at us?

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                  Just time we had some truth's told
                  `round here. Damn fine day, tell
                  the truth.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   87.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                      64
</b>
     There's a long pause as everyone gathers themselves, then:           *

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Well, the truth is... I'm getting
                  full.

<b>                               STEVE
</b>                  Amen.

<b>                            JOHNNA
</b>                  There's dessert, too.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  I saw her making those pies.
                  They looked so good.

     Little Charles suddenly stands.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I have a truth to tell.

<b>                               VIOLET
</b>                  It speaks.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                      (softly pleading )
                  No, no --

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  What is it, son?

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I have a truth.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Little Charles...?

<b>                               LITTLE CHARLES
</b><b>                  I...
</b>
<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Charles, not like this, please...

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  The truth is...I forgot to set the
                  clock. The power didn't go out, I
                  just...forgot to set the clock.
                  Sorry, Mom. I'm sorry, everyone.
                  Excuse me...I...I.

     He stumbles from the room. A long moment, then --
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   88.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                      64
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Scintillating.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                      (to Charlie)
                  I gave up a long time ago... Little
                  Charles is your project.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                      (near tears)
                  Charles. His name is Charles.

<b>                               VIOLET
</b>                  Poor Ivy.     Poor thing.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Please, Mom...

<b>                               VIOLET
</b>                  Poor baby.

<b>                               IVY
</b>                  Please...

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  She always had a feeling for the
                  underdog.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Don't be mean to me right now, okay?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Everyone's got this idea I'm mean
                  all of a sudden.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Please, momma.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I told you, I'm just telling the --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You're a drug addict.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  That is the truth! That's what I'm
                  getting at! I, everybody listen... I
                  am a drug addict. I am addicted to
                  drugs, pills, specially downers.

     She pulls a bottle from her pocket, holds them up.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   89.
<b>64   CONTINUED:                                                   64
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Y'see these little blue babies? These
                  are my best fucking friends and they
                  never let me down. Try to get `em
                  away from me and I'll eat you alive.

     Barbara lunges at the bottle, she and Vi wrestle for it.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Gimme those goddamn pills --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I'll eat you alive, girl!

     Bill and Ivy try to restrain Barbara; Mattie Fae tries to
     restrain Violet. Others rise, ad-lib. Pandemonium.

<b>                    STEVE                           IVY
</b>     Holy shit --                      Barbara, stop it --!

<b>                CHARLIE                             KAREN
</b>     Hey, now, c'mon --!               Oh God --

     Violet wrests the pills from Barb. Bill pulls Barb back into
     her seat. Violet shakes the bottle, taunting Barb. Barb
     lunges again, grabs her mother by the hair, toppling chairs,
     they crash into the --


<b>65   INT. LIVING ROOM - AFTERNOON                                 65
</b>
     Tumble to the floor. Pandemonium, screaming. The family
     rushes after them into the living room. Barb has her mother
     pinned on the floor and is strangling her. Bill and Charlie
     struggle to pull Barbara off, pry her fingers off Violet's
     throat and get her away.

     Johnna and Mattie Fae rush to Violet, get her to a chair.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Goddamn you... goddamn you, Barb...

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Shut up!
                      (silence)
                  Okay. Pill raid. Johnna, help Ivy
                  in the kitchen; Bill and Jean
                  upstairs with me.
                      (to Ivy)
                  You remember how to do this, right?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Yeah...
                               "August" 10/23/12 BLUE Draft   90.
<b>65   CONTINUED:                                                     65
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Go through everything. Every closet,
                  every drawer, every shoebox.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  What should we do?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Get Mom some black coffee, a wet
                  towel and listen to her bullshit.
                  Karen, call Dr. Burke.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You can't do this! This is my
                  house! This is my house!

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You don't get it, do you?

     She strides to her mother, looms over her.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b><b>                  I'M RUNNING THINGS NOW!
</b>

<b>66   INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - LATE AFTERNOON                         66
</b>
     The hallway is empty, but we hear the sounds of the search
     coming from the bedroom. Barbara appears, looks through the
     linen closet, looking behind stacked towels and old electric
     blankets. Finds a bottle of pills in the back.

     Ivy comes upstairs, followed closely by Karen. Hold out pill        *
     bottles, Barb adds them to the ones she's already collected
     in a large Ziplock bag.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  That's all we could find.                              *

     Barb heads for the bathroom, lifts the toilet seat. Begins          *
     dumping pills into the bowl. Karen examines the bottles.            *

<b>                            KAREN                                        *
</b>                  Why'd Dr. Burke write her so many                      *
                  prescriptions? Doesn't he know --?                     *

<b>                            IVY                                          *
</b>                  It's not just him.   She's got a doctor                *
                  in every port.                                         *

<b>                                                                         *
</b>                                  "August" 11/09/12 Pink Draft   91.
<b>66    CONTINUED:                                                       66
</b>
<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   You knew this was going on again?

      Ivy shrugs. Finished emptying the pills, Barb flushes the              *
      toilet, steps to her mother's open bedroom door, looks in.


<b>67    INT. VIOLET'S BEDROOM - LATE AFTERNOON                           67
</b>
      Violet lays motionless on the bed in the semi-darkness,
      facing the wall, still fully clothed. Ivy and Karen join her.
      They stare at their mother's comatose form. Finally:                   *

<b>                               KAREN
</b>                   Now what?

<b>                             BARBARA                                         *
</b>                   Wine... lots of wine.                                     *


<b>A68   OMIT                                                             A68   *
</b>

<b>68    OMIT                                                             68    *
</b>

<b>69    OMIT                                                             69    *
</b>

<b>A70   EXT. WESTON HOUSE YARD/GAZEBO - NIGHT                            A70   *
</b>
      Barbara, Ivy, Karen and the remains of the dinner wine sit             *
      around the table in the backyard gazebo.                               *

<b>                             BARBARA                                         *
</b>                   Think we can goad Mom into giving                         *
                   Burke her "greatest" generation                           *
                   speech tomorrow, tell him about the                       *
                   claw hammer?                                              *
                                "August" 11/11/12 Yellow Pages 92.
<b>A70   CONTINUED:                                                 A70
</b>
<b>                             IVY
</b>                   Won't do any good, he's part of the
                   same generation.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   "Greatest Generation," my ass. What                 *
                   makes them so great? Because they                   *
                   were poor and hated Nazis? Who
                   doesn't fucking hate Nazis? Remember                *
                   when we checked her in the psych ward,
                   that stunt she pulled?

<b>                             IVY                                       *
</b>                   Big speech, she's getting clean,
                   making this incredible sacrifice for
                   her family, she's let us down but now               *
                   she'll prove she's a good mother.

<b>                             KAREN
</b>                   I wasn't there.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   She smuggled Darvocet into the psych
                   ward ...in her vagina. There's your
                   Greatest Generation for you. She
                   made this speech to us while she was
                   clenching a bottle of pills in her
                   cooch, for God's sake.

<b>                             KAREN
</b>                   God, I've never heard this story.
                                 "August" 11/11/12 Yellow Pages 93.
<b>A70   CONTINUED:                                                  A70
</b>
<b>                             IVY
</b>                   Did you just say "cooch"?

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   The phrase "Mom's pussy" seems gauche.

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   You're a little more comfortable with
                   "cooch," are you?

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   What word should I use to describe
                   our mother's vagina?

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   I don't know, but --

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   "Mom's beaver"? "Mother's box"?

<b>                     IVY                                KAREN
</b>      Oh God --                           Barbara!

      As their laughter slowly dies down --                             *

<b>                             KAREN
</b>                   One thing about Mom and Dad. You have
                   to tip your cap to anyone who can stay
                   married that long.

<b>                              IVY
</b>                   Karen.   He killed himself.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   Is there something going on between
                   you and Little Charles?

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   I don't know that I'm comfortable
                   talking about that.
                                "August" 11/09/12 Pink Draft   93A.
<b>A70   CONTINUED:                                                  A70
</b>
<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   Because you know he's our first
                   cousin.

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   Give me a break.

<b>                             KAREN
</b>                   You know you shouldn't consider
                   children.

<b>                              IVY
</b>                   I can't anyway, I had a hysterectomy
                   last year.

      What? Barbara and Karen stare at Ivy.
                                 "August" 10/23/12 BLUE Draft   94.
<b>A70   CONTINUED:                                                   A70
</b>
<b>                              KAREN                                      *
</b>                   Why?

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   Cervical cancer.

<b>                             KAREN
</b>                   I didn't know.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   Neither did I.

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   I didn't tell anyone except Charles.
                   That's where it started between us.

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                   Why not?

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   And hear it from Mom the rest of my
                   life? She doesn't need another excuse
                   to treat me like some damaged thing.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   You might have told us.

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   You didn't tell us about you and Bill.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   That's different.

<b>                              IVY
</b>                   Why?   Because it's you, and not me?

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   Because divorce is an embarrassing
                   public admission of defeat. Cancer's
                   fucking cancer, you can't help that.
                   We're your sisters.

<b>                             IVY                                         *
</b>                   I don't feel that connection very                     *
                   keenly.                                               *

<b>                             KAREN                                       *
</b>                   I feel very connected, to both of you.                *

<b>                             IVY                                         *
</b>                   We never see you, you're never around,                *
                   you haven't been around --                            *
                                "August" 10/23/12 BLUE Draft   95.
<b>A70   CONTINUED:                                                  A70
</b>
<b>                             KAREN                                      *
</b>                   I still feel that connection!                        *

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   I can't perpetuate these myths of
                   family or sisterhood anymore. We're
                   just people, some of us accidentally
                   connected by genetics, a random
                   selection of cells.                                  *

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   When did you get so cynical?

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   That's funny, coming from you.

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                   Bitter, sure, but "random selection
                   of cells?"

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   Maybe my cynicism came with the
                   realization that the responsibility of               *
                   caring for our parents was mine alone.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   Don't give me that. I participated --

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   Till you had enough and got out,
                   you and Karen both. I'm not
                   criticizing. Do what you want. You
                   did, Karen did.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   And if you didn't, that's not my
                   fault.

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   That's right, so don't lay this sister
                   thing on me, all right? When I leave                 *
                   here I won't feel any more guilty than               *
                   you two did.                                         *

<b>                              KAREN                                     *
</b>                   I can't believe your world view is                   *
                   this dark.                                           *

<b>                             IVY                                        *
</b>                   You live in Florida.                                 *

<b>                                                                        *
</b>                                 "August" 11/09/12 Pink Draft   96-97.
<b>A70   CONTINUED:                                                    A70
</b>
<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   You're thinking of leaving?

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   Charles and I are going to New York.

      Barb bursts out in derisive laughter.      Karen joins her.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   What are you going to do in New York?

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   We have plans.

<b>                                BARBARA
</b>                   Like what?

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   None of your business.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   What about Mom?

<b>                             IVY
</b>                   What about her?

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                   You feel comfortable leaving Mom here?

<b>                              IVY
</b>                   Do you?
                       (then)
                   You think she was tough when he was
                   alive? Think what it's going to be
                   like now.                                              *
                       (to Karen)
                   You're going back to Miami, right?

<b>                                KAREN
</b>                   Yes.

      Ivy stands, gathers up her wine glass.
                                "August" 10/23/12 BLUE Draft   98.
<b>A70   CONTINUED:                                                  A70
</b>
<b>                             IVY                                        *
</b>                   There you go, Barb. You want to know                 *
                   what we're doing about Mom? Karen and                *
                   I are leaving. You want to stay,                     *
                   that's your decision. But nobody gets                *
                   to point a finger at me. Nobody.                     *

      Ivy starts back for the house.                                    *


<b>70    OMIT                                                         70   *
</b>

<b>71    OMIT                                                         71   *
</b>

<b>72    EXT. WESTON HOUSE YARD - NIGHT                               72   *
</b>
      The Weston women head for the house.                              *

<b>                             VIOLET                                     *
</b>                   My girls all together. Hearing you                   *
                   just now gave me a warm feeling.                     *

      Violet, sits on the swing in the semi-darkness, smoking, her      *
      hair wrapped in a towel. They hadn't seen her. How long has       *
      she been there?                                                   *
                                 "August" 10/23/12 BLUE Draft   99.
<b>72   CONTINUED:                                                       72
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA                                        *
</b>                  You had a bath?                                          *

<b>                              VIOLET                                       *
</b>                  Uh-huh...                                                *

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You need something to eat?   More                        *
                  coffee?

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                  No, honey, I'm fine.
                      (then)
                  This house must have heard a lot of
                  Weston girl secrets.

     Karen moves to her mother, sits next to her on the swing.
     Barb leans against a fence post, Ivy hangs back.                      *

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  I get embarrassed just thinking
                  about it.

     Karen takes a tube of hand creme from her purse.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Oh... nothing to be embarrassed
                  about. Secret crushes, secret
                  schemes. Province of teenage girls.
                  I can't imagine anything more
                  delicate, or bittersweet. Some part
                  of you girls I always identified
                  with... no matter how old you get, a
                  woman's hard-pressed to throw off
                  that part of herself.
                      (to Karen, re: hand creme)
                  That smells good.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  It's apple. You want some?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Yes, please.

     Violet puts out her cigarette. Karen passes her the creme.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  I ever tell you the story of Raymond
                  Qualls? Not much story to it. Boy I
                  had a crush on when I was thirteen or
                  so. Rough-looking boy, beat-up Levis,
                  messy hair. Terrible underbite.
<b>                            (MORE)
</b>                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   100.
<b>72   CONTINUED:                                                    72
</b><b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  But he had these beautiful cowboy
                  boots, shiny chocolate leather. He
                  was so proud of those boots, you could
                  tell, way he'd strut around, all arms
                  and elbows, puffed up and cocksure. I
                  decided I needed to get a girly pair
                  of those same boots and I convinced
                  myself he'd ask me to go steady. He'd
                  see me in those boots and say "Now
                  there's the gal for me."

     Violet lights another cigarette.                                    *

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Found the boots in a window downtown
                  and just went crazy: praying for those
                  boots, rehearsing the conversation I'd
                  have with Raymond when he saw me in my
                  boots. Must've asked my momma a
                  hundred times if I could get those
                  boots. "What do you want for
                  Christmas, Vi?" "Momma, I'll give all
                  of it up just for those boots."
                  Bargaining, you know? She started
                  dropping hints about a package under
                  the tree she had wrapped up, about the
                  size of a boot box, nice wrapping
                  paper. "Now, Vi, don't you cheat and
                  look in there before Christmas
                  morning." Little smile on her face.
                  Christmas morning, I was up like a
                  shot, boy, under the tree, tearing
                  open that box. There was a pair of
                  boots, all right... men's work boots,
                  holes in the toes, chewed up laces,
                  caked in mud and dog shit. Lord, my
                  momma laughed for days.

     Silence.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  Please don't tell me that's the end of
                  the story.

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                  Oh, no.   That's the end.

     Ivy shakes her head, goes inside. She's had enough of Violet
     to last a lifetime.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  You never got the boots?
                               "August" 11/09/12 Pink Draft   101.
<b>72   CONTINUED:                                                      72
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  No, huh-uh.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Okay, well, that's the worst story I
                  ever heard. That makes me wish for a
                  heartwarming claw hammer story.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  My momma was a nasty-mean old lady.   I
                  suppose that's where I get it from.

     An awkward moment.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  You're not nasty-mean. You're our
                  mother and we love you.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Thank you, sweetheart.

     Karen leans her head against her mother's shoulder, takes her
     mother's hand. Off Barbara, watching this --


<b>73   INT. GUEST ROOM - EARLY MORNING                                 73
</b>
     Barbara wakes, takes a moment to get her bearings. Early
     sunlight pours in. Bill's still asleep. She sits up,
     studies him. Surprised to find him beside her.


<b>74   OMIT                                                            74   *
</b>

<b>75   OMIT                                                            75   *
</b>                            "August" 11/09/12 Pink Draft   102.


<b>76   INT/EXT. BACKYARD - EARLY MORNING                            76   *
</b>
     Barbara stands in the door. Closes her eyes, letting the          *
     early morning sun warm her. After a long moment, Johnna
     appears with a coffee mug. Barb takes it, nods her thanks.

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               Last time I spoke with my father, we
               talked about the state of the world,
               and he said, "You know, this country
               was always pretty much a whorehouse,
               but at least it used to have some
               promise. Now it's just a shithole."
               I think maybe he was talking about
               something else, something more
               specific, personal... this house? This
               family? His marriage? Himself?
               There was something sad in his voice--
               not sad, he always sounded sad --
               hopeless. As if it had already
               happened. As if whatever was
               disappearing had already disappeared.
               And no one saw it go. This country,
               this experiment, America, this hubris:
               what a lament, if no one saw it go.

<b>                         JOHNNA
</b>               Mrs. Fordham, are you going to
               fire me?

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               What? No. But I'll understand if
               you want to quit. I mean, there's
               work. And then there's work.

<b>                         JOHNNA
</b>               I'm familiar with this job. I can
               do this job. I don't do it for you
               or Mrs. Weston. Or even for Mr.
               Weston. Right? I do it for me.

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               Why?

<b>                         JOHNNA
</b>               I need the work.

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               Johnna, did my father say anything to
               you?
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   103.
<b>76   CONTINUED:                                                   76
</b>
<b>                             JOHNNA
</b>                  He just seemed like maybe he had... he                *
                  talked about...
                      (beat)
                  He talked a lot about his daughters,
                  his three daughters, and his
                  granddaughter. That was his joy.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Thank you. That makes me feel better.
                  Knowing that you can lie.

     Johnna smiles.


<b>77   INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE/WAITING ROOM - DAY                       77
</b>
     Barbara sits opposite DR. BURKE, a genial, charming and
     remotely creepy small town doctor. Ivy stands. Violet is
     visible out in the waiting room, Karen sitting with her.

<b>                            DR. BURKE
</b>                  The chemotherapy and the radiation,
                  coupled with the overuse of pain
                  medications --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  -- right --

<b>                            DR. BURKE
</b>                  -- and without the benefit of more
                  thorough testing, an MRI or CT scan, I
                  believe your mother is showing signs
                  of Mild Cognitive Impairment.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Mild Cognitive Impairment?

<b>                            DR. BURKE
</b>                  Brain damage. It may be time to
                  consider placing her in a long term
                  care facility. I'd certainly feel
                  more comfortable knowing she was
                  receiving that level of supervision.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  That would make you comfortable?   You
                  would be comfortable with that?

<b>                            DR. BURKE
</b>                  Of course, it's a family decision.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   104.
<b>77   CONTINUED:                                                      77
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You want us to send her to where, a
                  psychiatric hospital?

<b>                            DR. BURKE
</b>                  Well, Beverly's gone.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Right. Not "gone" so much as "dead,"
                  but I see your point.

     Ivy suppresses a laugh.       Burke looks at Ivy, confused.

<b>                            DR. BURKE
</b>                  Legal guardianship for you and your
                  sisters, with my recommendation,
                  should be a simple --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Leave me out of this, thanks.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  So you're thinking that if the
                  three of us cooperated with you on
                  a commitment end-around, we'd be
                  less likely to sue your ass?

<b>                               DR. BURKE
</b>                  I'm sorry?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  "Mild Cognitive Impairment?" Are you
                  fucking kidding me? You really want
                  to go before a judge and make a case
                  for a couple radiation treatments and
                  some chemo causing brain damage?
                  Think you can make that stand up in
                  court? When I'm sitting at the other
                  table, doing this?

     Barbara pulls out the Ziplock bag, throws a pill bottle at
     Dr. Burke, bouncing it lightly off his head.

<b>                            DR. BURKE
</b>                  All right, I think --

     Throws another pill bottle at him.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Know whose name is on these bottles?

     She hits him with another pill bottle.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   105.
<b>77   CONTINUED:                                                   77
</b>
<b>                            DR. BURKE
</b>                  Your mother is a very --

     She hits him with another pill bottle.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Barb...

     She hits him with another pill bottle. He relents, waits for
     her to get it out of her system. Only one problem with that
     idea, though --

     She hits him with another pill bottle.

     Another pill bottle. And another pill bottle.

     She pauses.    It seems she's done.

     But then, another pill bottle.       And another.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  We'll hang on to the bucket of these
                  we have at home. For evidence. For
                  your trial.

     She gets up to go, gets to the door, turns and fires one last
     pill bottle at him. Leaves. Ivy lingers, grins at Burke.


<b>78   INT/EXT. TALLGRASS PRAIRIE PRESERVE/BEV'S LINCOLN - DAY       78
</b>
     The sun parched Indian grass and Turkey Toot are wilting but
     stirred by prairie winds. Bev's old Lincoln follows a thread
     of blacktop through the tall grass. Barb drives, Ivy up
     front. Karen's in the back with Violet.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Pull the car over.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  We'll be home in a few minutes.

<b>                             VIOLET
</b>                  Pull the car over.
                      (beat)
                  I'm going to be sick.

     Barbara looks back, sees her mother means this literally,
     pulls to the side of the road. Violet gets out quickly.

     We stay with Barbara as she climbs out of the car, stares
     across the road, waiting for Violet, who can be heard
     retching. Karen and Ivy still in the car.
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   106.
<b>78   CONTINUED:                                                    78
</b>
     The sound fades as Barbara contemplates the prairie and for a
     long moment... loses herself, back to this land, to her home.
     Her expression is unreadable, enigmatic.

     Then behind her, out of focus, we become aware of Violet
     running away, across the prairie, through the tall grass.

     Barbara turns, simply to get back in the car, sees Violet
     running through the field.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  Mom?

     Violet keeps running.

<b>                             BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  Mom?!   Where are you going?

     Barbara watches for another moment.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  Goddamn it. Mom!

     Barbara takes off after her. Ivy and Karen climb out, but
     don't follow. Shield their eyes to watch the chase.

     It's an odd sight, the two women, racing through the grass.
     One almost seventy, the other nearing fifty.

     Barbara is slow in her pursuit at first, maybe because of her
     shoes, or maybe because she just feels silly. Then realizes
     that Violet is not stopping... not unless Barbara stops her.

     Violet runs through the tall grass, puts a foot wrong, goes
     down. Barbara catches up, out of breath, collapses. They
     lay on the ground, wheezing, sweating.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  Where the fuck are you going, Mom?

     And now we see the full beauty of the land, the distant
     horizon, the high cumulous clouds, the endless blue sky.
     Barb and Violet two dots, lost in the unforgiving prairie.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  There's nowhere to go.


<b>79   INT/EXT. LINCOLN/WESTON HOUSE DRIVEWAY - AFTERNOON             79
</b>
     Barb pulls the Lincoln in beside Charlie's Caddie and Ivy's
     Honda. Shuts off the engine. Ivy and Karen climb out, start
     back for the house. Barbara turns to Violet.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   107.
<b>79   CONTINUED:                                                      79
</b>
<b>                               BARBARA
</b>                  I'm sorry.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Please, honey --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  No, it's important I say this. I lost
                  my temper at dinner and went too far.                    *

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Barbara. The day, the funeral... the
                  pills. I was spoiling for a fight and
                  you gave it to me.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  So... truce?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                      (laughs)
                  Truce.

     They take a long moment, then --                                      *

<b>                               BARBARA
</b>                  What now?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  How do you mean?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Don't you think you should at least
                  consider a rehab center?

     Karen turns, realizing they're not following. Should she go
     back to the car? She decides no, continues inside.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I can't go through that again. No, I
                  can do this. You got rid of my pills,
                  right?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  All we could find.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I don't have that many hiding places.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Mom, now, come on.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You wanna search me?
                              "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   108.
<b>79   CONTINUED:                                                     79
</b>
<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  Uh... no.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  If the pills are gone, I'll be fine.
                  Just need a few days to get my feet
                  under me.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I can't imagine what all this must
                  be like for you right now. I just
                  want you to know, you're not alone.
                  If you need any help --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I don't need help.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I want to help.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I don't need your help.

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  Mom.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I don't need your help. I've gotten
                  myself through some... I know how this
                  goes: once all the talking's through,
                  people go back to their own nonsense.
                  I know that. So, don't worry about me.
                  I'll manage. I get by.

     Violet gets out, heads inside.      Barbara watches her go.


<b>80   INT. WESTON HOUSE, LIVING ROOM - AFTERNOON                      80
</b>
     Ivy finds Little Charles watching television.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Is the coast clear?

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  Never very.

     Ivy waits until Karen passes through, heads upstairs.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  What are you watching?
                                 "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   109.
<b>80   CONTINUED:                                                        80
</b>
<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  Television.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Can I watch it with you?

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I wish you would.

     She sits beside him on the couch.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES (CONT'D)
</b>                  I almost blew it last night.
                      (she nods)
                  Are you mad at me?

<b>                                 IVY
</b>                  Nope.

     They hold hands.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I was trying to be brave.

<b>                                 IVY
</b>                  I know.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I just... I want everyone to know
                  that I got what I always wanted.
                  And that means... I'm not a loser.

<b>                                 IVY
</b>                  Hey.    Hey.

     He turns to look at her.

<b>                            IVY (CONT'D)
</b>                  You're my hero.

     He considers this... then breaks into a huge smile, mutes the
     TV, goes to the ancient, oak, electric piano, turns it on.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  Come on, help me push the pedal.

     She joins him on the piano bench.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES (CONT'D)
</b>                  I wrote this for you.

     He plays, and quietly sings a gentle but quirky love song.
     It's charming, touching.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   110.
<b>80   CONTINUED:                                                   80
</b>
     She smiles, he smiles back. Midway through, Mattie Fae
     enters, watches for a moment. Then breaks the spell.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Liberace. Get yourself together,
                  we have to get home and take care
                  of those damn dogs. They've probably
                  eaten the drapes by now.

     Charlie comes down the stairs with their overnight bag.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  I'm sure the house is fine.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                      (notices the TV)
                  Oh, look, honey, Little Charles has
                  got the TV on.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  No, I was just --

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  This one watches so much television,
                  it's rotted his brain.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I'm sure that's not true.

<b>                             MATTIE FAE
</b>                  What was it I caught you watching the
                  other day?

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I don't remember.

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Mattie Fae --

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  You do so remember, some dumb talk                    *
                  show about people swapping wives.

<b>                            LITTLE CHARLES
</b>                  I don't remember.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  You don't remember.
                      (to Ivy)
                  Too bad there isn't a job where they
                  pay you to sit around watching TV.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   111.
<b>80   CONTINUED:                                                   80
</b>
<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  C'mon, Mattie Fae --

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                      (still to Ivy)
                  Y'know he got fired from a shoe store?

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  Mattie Fae, we're gonna get in the
                  car and go home and if you say one
                  more mean thing to that boy I'm going
                  to kick your fat Irish ass onto the
                  highway. You hear me?

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  What the hell did you say--?

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  You kids go outside, would you please?

     Ivy and Little Charles go.

<b>                            CHARLIE (CONT'D)
</b>                  I don't understand this meanness. I
                  look at you and your sister and the
                  way you talk to people and I don't
                  understand it. I can't understand why
                  folks can't be respectful of one
                  another. I don't think there's any
                  excuse for it. My family didn't treat
                  each other that way.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Maybe that's because your family --

<b>                            CHARLIE
</b>                  You had better not say anything about
                  my family right now. I mean it. We
                  buried a man yesterday I loved very
                  much. And whatever faults he may have
                  had, he was a good, kind, decent
                  person. And to hear you tear into
                  your own son not even a day later
                  dishonors Beverly's memory. We've
                  been married thirty-eight years. I
                  wouldn't trade them for anything. But
                  if you can't find a generous place in
                  your heart for your own son, we're not
                  going to make it to thirty-nine.

     He goes. She takes a moment to collect herself, turns to
     follow, finds Barbara standing out in the open kitchen door.       *
     There's an awkward moment.
                              "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   112.
<b>80   CONTINUED:                                                     80
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I didn't mean to eavesdrop.   I froze.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  That's -- you have a cigarette, hon?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  No, I quit years ago.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  So did I. Just sounded good to me.
                  I thought at dinner... at that
                  horrible dinner last night, seemed
                  like, something might be going on
                  between Ivy and Little Charles. Do
                  you know if that's true?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Oh, this is...I'm not sure what to...

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Look, just. Is it true?

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  Yes.    It's true.

<b>                             MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Okay.   That can't happen.

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  This is   going to be difficult, uh...
                  Ivy and   Little Charles have always
                  marched   to their own... and I'd expect
                  this to   be toughest on you --

<b>                              MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Barb...?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  They're in love. Or they think they
                  are. What's the difference, right?

<b>                              MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Honey --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I know it's unorthodox for cousins to
                  get together, at least these days --

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  They're not cousins.
                              "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   113.
<b>80   CONTINUED:                                                     80
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  -- but believe it or not, it's not as
                  uncommon as you might --

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Listen to me. They're not cousins.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Beg pardon?

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Little Charles is not your cousin.
                  He's your brother. He's your blood
                  brother. He is not your cousin. He
                  is your blood brother. Half-brother.
                  He's your father's child. Which
                  means that he is Ivy's brother. Do
                  you see? Little Charles and Ivy are
                  brother and sister.

     Karen and Steve enter from outside.

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  Go away.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  We're just going to --

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  Go away!   NOW! GO AWAY!

     Karen and Steve retreat.      Barbara stares at Mattie Fae.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  You and Dad.
                      (Mattie Fae nods)
                  Who knows this?

<b>                              MATTIE FAE
</b>                  I do.    And you do.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Uncle Charlie doesn't suspect?

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  We've never discussed it.

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  What?!

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  We've never discussed it. Okay?
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   114.
<b>80   CONTINUED:                                                      80
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Did Dad know?

<b>                             MATTIE FAE
</b>                  Yes.   Y'know, I'm not proud of this.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Really. You people amaze me. What,
                  were you drunk? Was this just some --

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  I wasn't drunk, no. Maybe it's hard
                  for you to believe, looking at me,
                  knowing me the way you do, all these
                  years. I know to you, I'm just your
                  old fat Aunt Mattie Fae. I'm more
                  than that, sweetheart, there's more to
                  me than that. I don't know why Little
                  Charles is such a disappointment to
                  me. Maybe he, well, I don't know why.
                  I'm disappointed for him, more than
                  anything. I made a mistake, a long
                  time ago. Okay? I paid for it. But
                  the mistake ends here.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  If Ivy found out, it would destroy
                  her.

<b>                            MATTIE FAE
</b>                  I'm sure as hell not gonna tell her.
                  You have to find a way to stop it.
                  You have to put a stop to it.


<b>81   EXT. WESTON HOUSE BACKYARD - NIGHT                               81
</b>
     It's late, the house still. We MOVE through dark rooms,
     drawn to the murmur of SOUND and a faint sound coming from
     outside the kitchen --

<b>                            JEAN (OS)
</b>                  You weren't kidding, this stuff is
                  strong.

<b>                            STEVE (OS)
</b>                  Florida, baby. Number one industry.

<b>                               JEAN
</b>                  Who cares?
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   115.
<b>81   CONTINUED:                                                    81
</b>
     Slowly DISCOVER: Jean and Steve sharing a joint, out by the
     fence. She wears a long T-shirt; he wears sweat pants and a
     sleeveless T-shirt. Both are barefoot.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Number one by far. Want a shotgun?
                      (off her look)
                  You don't know what a shotgun is?

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  I know what a shotgun is.

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  Not that kind of shotgun, here. Just
                  put your lips right next to mine and
                  you inhale while I exhale.

<b>                             JEAN
</b>                  Okay.

     He puts the joint in his mouth, lit end first. Their lips
     nearly touch as he blows marijuana smoke into her mouth in a
     steady stream. She nearly chokes.

<b>                             STEVE
</b>                  Hold it.   Don't let it out.

     She finally gasps, exhales, coughs.

<b>                            STEVE (CONT'D)
</b>                  That's a kick, huh?


<b>82   INT. THE ATTIC ROOM - NIGHT                                    82
</b>
     Johnna wakes. Listens. Sits up.


<b>83   INT. ATTIC STAIRS/UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT                     83
</b>
     Johnna makes her way down the attic stairs and into the
     second floor hallway, the whispers below unintelligible.


<b>84   INT. MAIN STAIRCASE/HALLWAY                                    84
</b>
     Johnna steps into the main hallway.      Drawn to whispers, and
     giggling from outside in the yard.

<b>                            STEVE (OS)
</b>                  ...Show `em to me... I won't look.
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   116.
<b>84   CONTINUED:                                                    84
</b>
<b>                            JEAN (OS)
</b>                  If you won't look, there's no point
                  in showing them to you.

<b>                            STEVE (OS)
</b>                  Okay, okay... I'll look.

<b>                            JEAN (OS)
</b>                  You're just an old perv...

<b>                            STEVE (OS)
</b>                  Christ, you got a great set. Show you
                  mine if you'll show me yours.

<b>                            JEAN (OS)
</b>                  I don't want to see yours, perv.

     Johnna approaches carefully, can't yet see them.

<b>                            STEVE (OS)
</b>                  You ever seen one?

<b>                            JEAN (OS)
</b>                  What are you doing?

<b>                             STEVE (OS)
</b>                  Nothing.

<b>                            JEAN (OS)
</b>                  You're gonna get us both in trouble.

<b>                            STEVE (OS)
</b>                  I'm white and over thirty.    I don't
                  get in trouble.

     Johnna pushes out the screen to DISCOVER: Steve kissing and
     groping Jean, sliding his hand down between her legs.

     Johnna grabs a shovel leaning against the storm cellar door.
     Jean and Steve, clothes in disarray, quickly separate.

<b>                    JEAN                              STEVE
</b>     Oh my God...                         Ho, fuck!

     Johnna approaches Steve menacingly.

<b>                            STEVE (CONT'D)
</b>                  Hold up there, lady, you don't --

     Johnna SWINGS the shovel, barely misses Steve's nose.
     Bedroom lights above SNAP ON.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft    117.
<b>84   CONTINUED:                                                    84
</b>
<b>                            STEVE (CONT'D)
</b>                  Hey, goddamn it, careful!

     She swings again, HARD. The shovel SMACKS into the arm he
     puts up to block her smashing his head with the spade.

<b>                            STEVE (CONT'D)
</b>                  Ow, goddamn --!

     He holds his arm in pain. She wades in with a strong swing
     and CONNECTS with his back. He goes down. Johnna stands
     above him, arm cocked, watching for him to try and get up.
     He doesn't. Karen rushes out, sees Steve on the floor.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  What happened?!

<b>                            JOHNNA
</b>                  He was messing with Jean --

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  Honey, you're bleeding, you okay?

     He groans, tries to sit up.    Bill and Barbara run in.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Jean, what are you doing up?

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  We were, I don't know --

<b>                 BARBARA                            BILL
</b>     Who was?   Are you alright?       Do I need to call a doctor?

<b>             JEAN (CONT'D)                         KAREN
</b>     Yeah, I'm fine.                   I don't know.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Johnna, what's going on?

<b>                            JOHNNA
</b>                  He was messing with Jean, so I
                  tuned him up.

<b>                BARBARA                             BILL
</b>     Messing with, what do you         What...what's that mean?
     mean, messing with?

<b>                            JOHNNA (CONT'D)
</b>                  He was kissing and grabbing her.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft      118.
<b>84   CONTINUED:                                                      84
</b>
     This information settles in... then Barbara attacks Steve,
     who's just gotten to his feet. Karen gets between them.
     Bill grabs Barbara from behind, trying to pull her away.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I'll murder you, you prick!

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                  I didn't do anything!

<b>                  JEAN                                KAREN
</b>     Mom, stop it!                        Settle down --!

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You know how old that girl is?

<b>                            STEVE
</b>                      (to Jean)
                  Tell them I didn't do anything!

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  She's fourteen years old!

<b>            BARBARA (CONT'D)                          KAREN
</b>     Are you out of your goddamn          Barbara, just back off!
     mind?

     Karen manages to get Steve up the porch steps and into the
     house. Barbara, Bill, Jean, and Johnna remain.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  Son-of-a-bitch is a goddamn sociopath!

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  What is the matter with you? Will
                  you please stop freaking out?

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Why don't you start at the beginning?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  What are you even doing up?

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Please, sweetheart, we need to know
                  what went on here.

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  Nothing "went on." Can we just not
                  make a federal case out of every
                  thing? I came down for a drink, he
                  came in... end of story. All right?
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft    119.
<b>84   CONTINUED:                                                    84
</b>
<b>                BARBARA                             BILL
</b>     That's not the end of the         That's not the end of the
     story.                            story.

<b>                            JEAN (CONT'D)
</b>                  We smoked pot, alright? We smoked
                  a little pot, and we were goofing
                  around, and then everything just
                  went crazy.

<b>                BARBARA                             BILL
</b>     What have I told you about        Then Johnna just chose to
     smoking that shit?! What did      attack him with a shovel?
     I say?

<b>                            JEAN (CONT'D)
</b>                  It's no big deal, nothing happened.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Just tell me what he did!

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  He didn't do anything!    What's the                   *
                  big deal?

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  The big deal, Jean, is that you're
                  fourteen years old.

<b>                            JEAN
</b>                  Which is only a few years younger
                  than you like `em.

     Barbara SLAPS Jean; Jean bursts into tears.

<b>                            JEAN (CONT'D)
</b>                  I hate you!

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Yeah, I hate you too, you little
                  freak!

     Jean tries to head into the house.       Bill grabs her.

<b>                    BILL                                 JEAN
</b>     Jean--                            Let me go!

     Jean pulls free, runs off.    Bill gets in Barbara's face.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  What's the matter with you?
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft      120.
<b>84   CONTINUED:                                                      84
</b>
     Bill exits, pursuing Jean.       Barbara and Johnna are left
     standing there, then:

     WE FOLLOW Barb into the kitchen and up the stairs to --


<b>85   INT. THE GUEST BEDROOM - NIGHT                                   85
</b>
     Karen is pulling on a sweatshirt, grabbing their clothes,
     stuffing them into a suitcase.

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  I can do without a speech.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Where is he?

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  Out at the car. We're leaving.
                  Back to Florida, tonight, now.
                  Me and Steve, together. Want to
                  give me some grief about that?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Now wait just a goddamn --

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  You better find out from Jean exactly
                  what went on before you start
                  pointing fingers. Cause I doubt
                  Jean's blameless in all this. And
                  I'm not blaming her, just cause I
                  said she's not blameless doesn't mean
                  I've blamed her. I'm saying she
                  might share in the responsibility.
                  It's not cut and dried, black and
                  white, good and bad. It lives where
                  everything lives: somewhere in the
                  middle. Where the rest of us live,
                  everyone but you.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Karen--

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  He's not perfect. Just like the rest
                  of us, down here in the muck. I'm no
                  angel myself. I've done some things
                  I'm not proud of. Things you'll never
                  know about. I may even have to do
                  some things I'm not proud of again.
                  Cause sometimes life puts you in a
                  corner that way.
<b>                            (MORE)
</b>                              "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   121.
<b>85   CONTINUED:                                                     85
</b><b>                              KAREN (CONT'D)
</b>                  And I am   a human being, after all.
                  Anyway.    You have your own hash to
                  settle.    Before you start making
                  speeches   to the rest of us.

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  Right...

<b>                            KAREN
</b>                  Come January... I'll be in Belize.
                  Doesn't that sound nice?

     Karen pushes past Barb, rolling her suitcase behind her.


<b>86   EXT. WESTON HOUSE AND DRIVEWAY - NIGHT                          86
</b>
     Karen bursts through the screen door, rushes down the steps
     to Steve's waiting Ferrari, it's lights already on, engine
     running. Throws her suitcase in the back.

     Barb steps out onto the porch as it reverses, SLAMS into gear
     and accelerates down the drive, spewing gravel as it goes.

     Bill comes out, watches it disappear with Barbara.      Then:

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  I'm taking Jean with me, heading back
                  to Colorado in the morning.

     But Barb's still focused on the distant Ferrari.

<b>                            BILL (CONT'D)
</b>                  She's too much for you right now.

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  Okay.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  I'm sure you'll find a way to blame
                  me for all this.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  Yeah, well...
                      (beat)
                  I can't make it up to Jean right
                  now. She's just going to have to
                  wait until I get back to Boulder.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  You and Jean have about forty years
                  left to fight and make up.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   122.
<b>86   CONTINUED:                                                      86
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                      (confused)
                  Why, what happens in forty years?

<b>                               BILL
</b>                  You die.

<b>                               BARBARA
</b>                  Oh, right.

<b>                               BILL
</b>                  I mean --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  No. Right. I fail. As a mother,
                  as a daughter, as a wife. I fail.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  No, you don't.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I've physically attacked Mom and Jean
                  in the span of twenty-four hours. You
                  stick around here and I'll cut off
                  your penis.

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  That's not funny.

     He starts back inside.

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  You're never coming back to me, are
                  you, Bill?

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Never say never, but...

<b>                               BARBARA
</b>                  But no.

<b>                               BILL
</b>                  But no.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Even if things don't work out with
                  you and Marsha.

<b>                               BILL
</b>                  Cindy.

<b>                               BARBARA
</b>                  Cindy.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   123.
<b>86   CONTINUED:                                                   86
</b>
<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Right. Even if things don't work out.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  And I'm never really going to
                  understand why, am I?

     Bill struggles... seems he might have more to say, but then:

<b>                            BILL
</b>                  Probably not.

     Bill goes.    She watches him leave.   Fights back tears.


<b>87   EXT. WESTON HOUSE - DAY                                       87
</b>
     A blistering hot late August day. The Weston house sits in
     bucolic, heat-weary silence. The driveway no longer crowded
     with cars. Barb stands nearly where she did the night
     before, in her sweats and robe. Watching yet another car go.

     Their rental, Bill behind the wheel, backing up. Jean in the
     seat beside him. Jean stares blankly at her mother, as she
     rolls past. Bill never looks back.

     The rental heads down the drive, passing Ivy's Honda
     arriving. Bill slows for a moment to let Ivy pass. Then
     continues on it's way back to Tulsa and the airport.

     Ivy pulls in next to Bev's big Lincoln. Climbs out.     Walks
     to her sister, looks back to the rental leaving.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Where are Bill and Jean going?

     Barbara doesn't answer, just stands there.

<b>                            IVY (CONT'D)
</b>                  Karen, too?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Yeah...

     Barb turns, heads for the house, Ivy follows --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Is she clean?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  She's moderately clean.
                              "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   124.
<b>87   CONTINUED:                                                     87
</b>
<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Moderately?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You don't like moderately?   Then let's
                  say tolerably.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Is she clean, or not?

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  Back off.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I'm nervous.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Oh Christ, Ivy, not today.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I have to tell her, don't I? We're
                  leaving for New York tomorrow.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  That's not a good idea. For you and
                  Charles to take this any further.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Where is this coming from?

     Barbara heads up the porch steps and into --


<b>88   INT. THE WESTON HOUSE/KITCHEN - DAY                             88
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Lot of fish in the sea. Surely you
                  can rule out the one single man in
                  the world you're related to.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I love the man I'm related to--

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Fuck love, what a crock of shit.
                  People can convince themselves they
                  love a painted rock.

     They find Johnna cooking in the kitchen.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  Looks great. What is it?
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   125.
<b>88   CONTINUED:                                                    88
</b>
<b>                             JOHNNA
</b>                  Catfish.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Bottom feeders, my favorite. You're
                  nearly fifty years old, Ivy, you can't
                  go to New York, you'll break a hip.
                  Eat your catfish.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I have lived in this town, year in
                  and year out, hoping against hope
                  someone would come into my life--

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Don't get all Carson McCullers on
                  me. Now wipe that tragic look off
                  your face and eat some catfish.

     They head into the dining room, find Violet smoking, working
     on her jigsaw puzzle.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  Howdy, Mom.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  What's howdy about it?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Look, catfish for lunch.   Johnna!
                      (to Violet)
                  You hungry?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Ivy, you should smile.   Like me.

     Johnna enters from the kitchen.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Mom needs her lunch, please.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I'm not hungry.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You haven't eaten anything today.
                  You didn't eat anything yesterday.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I'm not hungry.

<b>                            IVY                                          *
</b>                  Why aren't either of you dressed?                      *
                              "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   126.
<b>88   CONTINUED:                                                     88
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA                                       *
</b>                  We're dressed. We're not sitting here                   *
                  naked, are we?                                          *

<b>                              VIOLET                                      *
</b>                  Yeah...                                                 *

     Johnna reenters with plates, then goes.

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  Eat.

<b>                              VIOLET
</b>                  No.

<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  Eat it.    Mom? Eat it.

<b>                              VIOLET
</b>                  No.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Eat it, you fucker.   Eat that catfish.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Go to hell.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  That doesn't cut any fucking ice with
                  me. Now eat that fucking fish.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Mom, I have something to talk to you--

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  No you don't.

<b>                              IVY
</b>                  Barbara--

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  No you don't. Shut up.    Shut the fuck
                  up.

<b>                              IVY
</b>                  Please--

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  What's to talk about?

<b>                              IVY
</b>                  Mom--
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   127.
<b>88   CONTINUED:                                                      88
</b>
<b>                               BARBARA
</b>                  Forget it.     Eat that fucking fish.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I'm not hungry.

<b>                               BARBARA
</b>                  Eat it.

<b>                               VIOLET
</b><b>                  NO!
</b>
<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Mom, I need to--!

<b>                               VIOLET
</b><b>                  NO!
</b>
<b>                               IVY
</b><b>                  MOM!
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b><b>                  EAT THE FISH, BITCH!
</b>
<b>                            IVY
</b><b>                  MOM, PLEASE!
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Barbara...!

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Okay, fuck it, do what you want.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I have to tell you something.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Ivy's a lesbian.

<b>                               IVY
</b>                  Barbara--

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  No, you're not.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  No, I'm not--

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Yes, you are. Did you eat your fish?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Barbara, stop it!
                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   128.
<b>88   CONTINUED:                                                    88
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Eat your fish.

<b>                             IVY
</b>                  Barbara!

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Eat your fish.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Barbara, quiet now--

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Mom, please, this is important --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Eatyourfisheatyourfisheatyourfish--

     Ivy stands, hurls her plate of food, smashes it.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  What the fuck --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  I have something to say.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Are we breaking shit?

     Barbara takes a vase from the sideboard, smashes it.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  `cause I can break shit --

     Violet throws her plate, smashes it.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  See, we can all break shit.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Charles and I --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You don't want to break shit with me,
                  muthah-fuckah --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Charles and I --

<b>                             BARBARA
</b>                  Johnna?!   Little spill in here!

     Ivy gets in Barbara's face.
                               "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   129.
<b>88   CONTINUED:                                                      88
</b>
<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Barbara, stop it!
                      (returning to Violet)
                  Mom, Charles and I --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Little Charles --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Charles and I --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Little Charles --

<b>                               IVY
</b>                  Barbara --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You have to say Little Charles or she
                  won't know who you're talking about.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Little Charles and I...

     Barbara relents.      Ivy will finally get to say the words.

<b>                            IVY (CONT'D)
</b>                  Little Charles and I are --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Little Charles and you are brother
                  and sister. I know that.

     Freeze.   Silence.

<b>                               BARBARA
</b>                  Oh... Mom.

<b>                              IVY
</b>                  What?    No, listen, Little Charles --

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I've always known that. I told you,
                  no one slips anything by me.

<b>                               IVY
</b>                  Mom --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Don't listen.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   130.
<b>88   CONTINUED:                                                   88
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I knew the whole time Bev and Mattie
                  Fae were carrying on. Charlie should
                  have known too, if he wasn't smoking
                  all that grass.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  It's the pills talking.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Your father tore himself up over it,
                  thirty some-odd years, but Beverly
                  wouldn't have been Beverly if he
                  didn't have plenty to brood about.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Mom, what are you...?

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Oh honey...

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Better you girls know now though,
                  now you're older. Never know when
                  someone might need a kidney.

     Ivy looks from Violet to Barbara... suddenly lurches away
     from the table, knocking over her chair.

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Why in God's name did you tell
                  me this?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Hey, what do you care?

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  You're monsters.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Come on now --

<b>                            IVY
</b>                  Monsters...

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Who's the injured party here?

     Ivy flees from the dining room, pursued by Barbara --
                         "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft    131.


<b>89   INT. FRONT HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS                               89
</b>
<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               Ivy, listen --

<b>                         IVY
</b>               Leave me alone.

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               When Mattie Fae told me, I didn't
               know what to do --

     Ivy runs from the house.


<b>90   EXT. WESTON HOUSE - CONTINUOUS                                90
</b>
     Ivy rushes to her car, still followed by Barbara.

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               I was trying to protect you --

<b>                         IVY
</b>               We'll go anyway, we'll still go away.

     Ivy gets in the car, starts it, revs the engine.    Barbara
     tries to open the car door.

<b>                         BARBARA
</b>               This is not my fault.

     Barbara pounds on the car window.

<b>                         BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>               I didn't tell you, Mom told you!
               It wasn't me, it was Mom!

     The car window slides down.

<b>                         IVY
</b>               There's no difference.

     Ivy floors the car, roars out of the driveway, leaving Barb
     standing there. After a moment, Barb turns, stares up at the
     house, angry, resolute. Starts back inside.


<b>91   INT. WESTON HOUSE - CONTINUOUS                                91
</b>
     Finds Violet still at the table, lighting a cigarette.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   132.
<b>91   CONTINUED:                                                   91
</b>
<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  We couldn't let Ivy run off with
                  Little Charles. Just wouldn't be
                  right.

     Barbara doesn't respond, keeps her distance.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  She'll be back. She's a sweet girl,
                  Ivy, and I love her to death. But she
                  isn't strong. Not like you. Or me.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You knew about Daddy and Mattie Fae?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Oh sure. I never told them I knew.
                  But your father knew. He knew I knew.
                  But we never talked about it. I chose
                  the higher ground.
                      (and then)
                  If I'd had the chance, there at the
                  end, I would've told him, "I hope this
                  isn't about Little Charles, cause you
                  know I know all about that." If I'd
                  reached him at that motel, I would've
                  said, "You'd be better off if you quit
                  sulking about this ancient history."

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  ...what motel?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  I called over there on Monday after I
                  got into that safety deposit box. But
                  it was too late, he'd checked out.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  How did you know where he was?

     Violet is growing agitated with the interrogation.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  The note. He said I could call him
                  over at the Country Squire Motel --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  He left a note?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  And I did, I called him on Monday.
                            "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft       133.
<b>91   CONTINUED:                                                       91
</b>
<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  After you got the money out of your                       *
                  safety deposit box...

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  We had an arrangement. You have to                        *
                  understand, for people like your                          *
                  father and me, who never had any                          *
                  money, ever, as kids, people from our                     *
                  generation, that money is important.                      *

<b>                            BARBARA                                         *
</b>                  If you could've stopped Daddy from                        *
                  killing himself, you wouldn't have                        *
                  needed to get into your safety deposit                    *
                  box.                                                      *

<b>                            VIOLET                                          *
</b>                  Well, hindsight's always twenty-                          *
                  twenty, isn't it?                                         *

     Barbara stares at her mother for a long moment.       Then --

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  Did the note say he was going to kill
                  himself?

     No response.

<b>                            BARBARA (CONT'D)
</b>                  Mom?

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  If I had my wits about me, I might've
                  done it different. But I was, your
                  father and me both, we were...

     Barbara looks off, quietly:

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You were both fucked-up... You were                       *
                  fucked-up... You are fucked-up.                           *

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  You'd better understand this, you
                  smug little ingrate. There's only
                  one reason Beverly killed himself and
                  that's you. Think there's any way he
                  would've done what he did if you were
                  still here? No, just him and me, here
                  in this house, in the dark, left to
                  ourselves, abandoned, wasted lifetimes
                  devoted to your care and comfort.
<b>                            (MORE)
</b>                             "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   134.
<b>91   CONTINUED:                                                    91
</b><b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  So stick that knife of judgment in me,
                  go ahead, but make no mistake, his
                  blood is just as much on your hands as
                  it is on mine.

     Barbara is reeling, trying to comprehend.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  He did this though, not us. Can you
                  imagine anything more cruel, to make
                  me responsible? Just to weaken me,
                  make me prove my character? So I
                  waited, to get my hands on that safety
                  deposit box. But I would have waited
                  anyway. You want to show who's
                  stronger, Bev? Nobody's stronger than
                  me, goddamn it. When nothing is left,
                  when everything is gone and
                  disappeared, I'll be here.

     Violet YELLS up to the empty house.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Who's stronger now, you son-of-a-
                  bitch?!

     Barbara feels sick, the floor giving away beneath her.       She
     takes a moment. Then:

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  You're right, Mom.    You're the
                  strong one.

     She goes to her mother, kisses her. Turns, heads into the
     hall, grabs her purse and Bev's keys from the dish.

     Violet only slowly realizes Barbara's gone.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  ...Barbara?

     Hears the sound of the screen door opening and SLAPPING shut.

<b>                             VIOLET    (CONT'D)
</b>                  Barbara?

     Violet follows her into the hall, stops at the screen door.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  You and me. We're alike.

     Barb doesn't turn around, keeps moving.         Quietly:
                              "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft   135.
<b>91   CONTINUED:                                                     91
</b>
<b>                              BARBARA
</b>                  No...

     Sees Barb heading across the yard for Beverly's pick-up.

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Barbara, please.

<b>                            BARBARA
</b>                  I'm nothing like you...

<b>                            VIOLET
</b>                  Please, Barbara.

     Watches Barbara climb into the truck, back slowly out, go.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  ...Barbara?

     Barbara drives off. The driveway now empty again. Violet
     alone outside on the walkway. She turns back to the house,
     yelling, moving from empty room to empty room.

<b>                              VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Ivy?!    Ivy, you here?!

     Silence.   The dining room, the kitchen.

<b>                             VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Barb?!   Ivy?!

     And into the living room, Bev's study.

<b>                            VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Bev?! ...Bev?!

     She stumbles to the stereo, puts on her Clapton... stares at
     the spinning album...

<b>                              VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>                  Johnna?!

     She reels to the stairs, crawling up --


<b>92   INT/EXT. BEVERLY'S PICK-UP (MOVING) - DAY                       92
</b>
     Barbara is nearly catatonic as she drives, the house receding
     in the rear window behind her.

     A few large rain drops splatter her windshield, the rumble of
     distant thunder, lightning and towering, ominous clouds in
     the distance.
                         "August" 9/21/12 FINAL WHITE Draft    136.


<b>93   INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY/ATTIC STAIRS - DAY                      93
</b>
     Violet climbs the staircase on all fours.

<b>                         VIOLET
</b>               Johnna... Johnna... Johnna...

     Johnna sets down her TS Elliot, goes to Violet, holds
     Violet's head, smooths her hair, rocks her. Quietly --

<b>                         VIOLET (CONT'D)
</b>               And then you're gone, and Beverly,
               and then you're gone, and Barbara,
               and then you're gone, and then
               you're gone, and then you're gone --

     Johnna quietly sings to Violet.

<b>                 JOHNNA                            VIOLET
</b>     "This is the way the world        --and then you're gone, and
     ends..."                          then you're gone --


<b>94   INT. BEVERLY'S PICK-UP - DAY                                  94
</b>
     ON Barbara as she drives --

<b>                         JOHNNA (OS)
</b>               "...this is the way the world ends,
               this is the way the world ends..."

<b>                         VIOLET (OS)
</b>               --and then you're gone, and then
               you're gone...

     We stay on Barb as she slowly pulls herself back together.
     Brushes tears from her cheeks. Laughs darkly. Notices her
     hands are shaking from the adrenaline.

     Slows, pulls the pick-up to the side of the road at the top
     of a small rise. Climbs out, stares out over the miles of
     prairie. The wind gently ruffles her clothing, her hair.

     CLOSE ON her as she settles into exhausted relief, unsure of
     what comes next, but finally on her way as we --

<b>                                                  FADE TO BLACK
</b>

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	<td><h1>August: Osage County</h1><br><br>
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What is Johnna's ethnicity? 
What is Johnna s ethnicity ?
She is a native American.
She is a native American .
Native american
Native american