Green gives him a look. Then she freezes. She holds up a finger, silencing Turner.
GREEN
Wait.
(hears something)
You hear that?
Look—
Miles turns to see who Sarah is looking at: an OLD ASIAN MAN, maybe 70 (although, honestly, if you said anything between 48 and 88 we’d believe you—it’s hard to tell with Asians. If black don’t crack then yellow just kind of mellows).
Old Asian Man has an upright bearing, and despite a softness in and around his midsection, in his posture and the precision of his movements there is the sense of an acquired discipline, something that suggests a deep awareness of his body and surroundings earned through a lifetime of focused training.
Green looks at Turner, who now looks less sure of himself.
TURNER
Go ahead. You talk first.
GREEN
Really? Why?
TURNER
He might be scared of me. A lot of older Asians are pretty racist.
(off her look)
Sorry. It’s true.
Green steps to Old Asian Man.
GREEN (CONT’D)
Hello sir.
(quick flash of badge)
Have a second? We’d like to ask you a few questions.
Turner has a hand on his weapon. Green looks at Turner as in: come on dude. Really?
Turner looks at Green like: what?
Green looks at Turner like: the gun?
Turner rolls his eyes like: fine.
He reluctantly stands down. Clenches his jaw muscle. It looks awesome when he does this. People like the clenching, so Turner clenches a lot.
TURNER
The dead Chinese guy. Did you know him?
Old Asian Man doesn’t answer, the physiognomy of his exotic Eastern features, as exacerbated by the repressive conditioning of his Confucian worldview, turning his face into an emotionless mask. Foreign, unknowable even to the trained eye of these Western detectives, the titular Black and White not sure what to make of this strange little yellow man, trying to discern what he’s feeling inside.
TURNER (CONT’D)
Hey. You. I’m talking to you.
Turner’s playing the tough, so Green can counter with tact. She softens, her body language, her tone. The light shifts, and it’s tight on Green, her face center-frame, beauty shot. Her hair shimmers.
GREEN
(sensitive, sincere)
What my partner’s trying to say is, did you have any relationship with the deceased?
Turner stands down. He clenches again, to show annoyance. Sexy, sexy annoyance.
Old Asian Man looks down at his feet. Turner shifts his weight, nervous.
GREEN (CONT’D)
Sir?
TURNER
(to Green)
I don’t think he understands you.
Turner turns toward Old Asian Man, stoops down a little.
TURNER (CONT’D)
(little too loud)
Do you understand her?
GREEN
Sir? Do you understand?
(to Turner)
We need a translator.
TURNER
He knows something.
GREEN
Even if he could understand us, I’m not sure he’ll talk.
TURNER
Maybe he’ll be more talkative after a ride downtown.
Turner goes for his handcuffs.
Watching Old Asian Man there with nothing to do but suffer silently. To give Black and White something to react to.
You’re so deep in the background, you’re almost out of frame. The script doesn’t give you anything to say, your only action to sweep the floor. And watch your father get talked to like that. It’s his reaction that breaks something inside of you. Or his nonreaction. That this is who he is, Old Asian Man. Nothing more. His acceptance of the role. You have to do something. You step
into focus.
Green turns to look at you. Turner draws his weapon.
TURNER
Hands where we can see them.
GREEN
(to Turner)
Will you stop it with the gun?
Turner lowers his firearm slowly. Green approaches, gets close enough to your face that you can smell her expensive perfume, see how good her bone structure is.
She looks into your eyes.
GREEN
And who are you?
(slowly, a little loud)
Sir, please identify yourself.
GENERIC ASIAN MAN
I’m no one. But I might be able to help you.
Green and Turner look at each other.
GREEN
(to you)
Excuse us for a minute.
They sidebar.
TURNER
Can we trust him?
GREEN
Not sure we have a choice. We need someone to help us get around this place.
(then)
Chinatown is a different world.
TURNER
Sarah.
GREEN
What?
TURNER
You know I was an East Asian Studies minor—