Ink Face

EXT. THE STREETS OF NEW HAVEN - DAY

AS SEEN IN THE PAGES OF A COMIC BOOK FLOATING ACROSS THE SCREEN.

TATTOO MAN, 26-years-old, adorned in sunglasses, leather jacket and messenger bag, briskly walks urban streets. He pulls a staple gun from his bag, and slaps a flyer to a phone pole, advertising his services as a tattoo artist.

Tattoo Man’s thoughts, a limerick, become visible floating above his head in a standard, comic book thought bubble.

THOUGHT BUBBLE

I must keep working or I might die.

I wish I was strong like some superhero guy.

FADE OUT.

INT. 75 DAGGETT STREET, MAIN SPACE - NIGHT

BUDDY THE DOG rests easily on a couch beside the GIRLFRIEND of a CLIENT, who is several feet away in a chair having his shoulder inked by Tattoo Man. The space they are in is a sea of black, apart from the cone of light the people and dog reside within.

Nearby, a tiny black & white television displays 1979’s DAWN OF THE DEAD. The volume is down, and the only audible sound is the STEADY BUZZ of the tattoo gun until Tattoo Man finishes the piece.

He sets the gun down, sprays the fresh tattoo with an antiseptic mixture, the carefully wraps it.

CUT TO:

INT. 75 DAGGETT STREET, MAIN SPACE - MOMENTS LATER

The satisfied client passes Tattoo Man a wad of bills, then joins his girlfriend. They close the door, leaving the Tattoo Man alone in his island of light within the black sea around him. He takes a final drag of his cigarette, then presses his hands to his face in lonely despair.

FADE OUT.

EXT. YORK BOOKSTORE ALLEY - DAY

Tatto Man, once again in sunglasses, leather jacket and messenger bag, slaps a flyer into an an adjacent brick wall as he enters the alley, on his way to a nearby message board.

CUT TO:

EXT. CHAPEL STREET MESSAGE BOARD - DAY

A BRICK FRAMED MESSAGE BOARD sits in the middle of an old, unused stone building. The board is thick with layers of faded and forgotten fliers, dating back years.

Tattoo Man approaches with flyer and staple gun in hand, only to find the gun empty when he tries using it. He begins digging in his bag for staples, then notices the approach of BRAID HEAD, a gentle-natured 18-year-old, so named for his corn-rowed hair.

BRAID HEAD

Hey man, how’s it going?

TATTOO MAN

(weakly)

What’s up.

Prompted by Tattoo Man’s tired voice, Braid head examines him more closely: he is pale and slouched.

BRAID HEAD

You don’t look so hot.

Tattoo Man is non-responsive and begins loading staples into his gun. Braid Head interprets the action as a note to change the subject.

BRAID HEAD

Do you think we can do some work on

my arm later?

TATTOO MAN

(beat)

Yeah, just give me a call.

Tattoo Man absently passes Braid Head a flyer with his phone number, dismissing him. Braid Head lingers momentarily.

BRAID HEAD

Maybe you should get some aspirin

or something.

Again, no acknowledgment from Tattoo Man. Braid Head takes the hint.

BRAID HEAD

Hey I’ll see you later.

Tattoo Man watches him go, pondering his words. He is inspired to act upon them, and walks away from the message board, flyer unhung.

EXT. CHAPEL STREET DRUGGIST - DAY

Tattoo Man nonchalantly exits the store. He pauses in front of it’s entrance, glancing at a bottle of SARTRE’S SLEEP AID & SUICIDE SUPPLEMENT he took from inside. He reflects for an additional moment, then walks away.

CUT TO:

INT. 75 DAGGETT STREET, KITCHEN - DAY

A TEA KETTLE simmers on a small, janky stove. Sitting at a table nearby, Tattoo Man has stripped to his boxer shorts and is GRINDING THE PILLS INTO A FINE POWDER.

Moments later, THE KETTLE SCREAMS IN A BOIL, prompting Tattoo Man to push the ground pill-powder into his mug. He brings the kettle to the mug and pours the hot liquid into the mixture, adding a teabag and waiting for it to steep.

A few moments pass. He SNATCHES THE MUG AND GULPS DOWN THE FATAL LIQUID. Tattoo Man struggles against his urge to retch. As the struggle approaches some kind of apex, Tattoo Man spits the liquid before reflexively rushing to the bathroom.

INT. 75 DAGGETT STREET, BATHROOM - DAY

Tattoo Man purges the remainder of the brew into the toilet before passing out.

FADE IN:

INT. 75 DAGGETT STREET, BATHROOM - LATER

THE SOUND OF A DISTANT RINGING PHONE pulls Tattoo Man out of unconsciousness, who slowly awakes to find Buddy the Dog LYING ON THE FLOOR BESIDE HIM. He struggles to his feet then wobbles out of the bathroom, followed closely by Buddy.

CUT TO:

INT. 75 DAGGETT STREET, MAIN SPACE - MOMENTS LATER

Tattoo Man groggily GRABS THE PHONE RECEIVER, then drops into a chair.

TATTOO MAN

Hello? (beat) What’s up man?

(beat) No, I’m fine. I was asleep.

(beat) What time is it? Alright,

give me a couple of hours.

CUT TO:

INT. 75 DAGGETT STREET, MAIN SPACE - NIGHT

BRAID HEAD is in a chair, occasionally wincing in discomfort, while having his arm inked by Tattoo Man. The space is once more a sea of black, apart from an island of light surrounding them.

Nearby, the tiny black & white television displays the 1976 film TAXI DRIVER. The volume is down, and the only audible sound is the STEADY BUZZ of the tattoo gun.

Tattoo Man occasionally makes short, semi-conscious glances in the direction of the television, until one scene in the movie captures his attention more readily: the movie’s protagonist, TRAVIS BICKLE, is inspecting a massive, long-barreled handgun. The image flips a switch in Tattoo Man’s head.

TATTOO MAN

Do you know where I can get a gun?

BRAID HEAD

What do you want a gun for?

Tattoo Man momentarily considers the truth before responding with a vague lie.

TATTOO MAN

Protection.

BRAID HEAD

(beat)

I don’t know, but Steve might.

CUT TO:

INT. 75 DAGGETT STREET, MAIN SPACE - MOMENTS LATER

Braid Head waves from the doorway.

BRAID HEAD

Bye.

He closes the door, leaving Tattoo Man alone, smoking a cigarette. Tattoo Man punches a number into the phone and puts the receiver to his ear.

CUT TO:

EXT. DARK NARROW ALLEY - NIGHT

Tattoo Man leans against the brick wall of the narrow alley, lights a cigarette, and waits. He glances impatiently at his watch, then releases a frustrated sigh.

THE SOUND OF SOMEONE WHISTLING causes Tattoo Man to turn and see the silhouette of the GUN DEALER. The dealer tosses a small bag to Tattoo Man, who catches it, then quickly glances in to confirm its contents. Satisfied, he stuffs a wad of bills into an empty cigarette box and tosses it to the dealer, who catches it and departs.

Once he’s alone, Tattoo Man drops to the alley floor. From the dealer’s bag he withdraws a 9mm PISTOL. As he examines the gun, his flow of thoughts becomes visible floating above his head in a thought bubble.

THOUGHT BUBBLE

No fear. No pain. No sorrow.

Tattoo Man PULLS THE PISTOL’S SLIDE, CHAMBERING A BULLET.

THOUGHT BUBBLE

Nothing.

Tattoo Man PUTS THE BARREL OF THE GUN INTO HIS MOUTH, and prepares to pull the trigger. Long moments pass before THE SOUND OF A FIRED GUN IS HEARD, but it is distant, and not from Tattoo Man’s weapon.

Puzzled, he withdraws the barrel from his mouth. In a daze he stands and walks through the alley in the direction of the shot.

CUT TO:

EXT. DARK WIDE ALLEY - MOMENTS LATER

Tattoo Man emerges from the alley quietly to find the source of the shot: A THUG IN A LONG, BLACK COAT POINTS A PISTOL at a fallen, terrified VICTIM clutching a bleeding shoulder. The thug calls in the direction of his nearby boss, a large and powerful man referred to simply as BLACK SUIT (so named for his attire).

THUG

Next one’s gonna be in the brain.

As the victim further shrivels in fear, Black Suit’s lieutenant WHITE SUIT lights for the boss’s cigarette before igniting his own.

THUG

I like the brain this time, so get ready.

The thug cocks the hammer of his pistol, while White Suit snickers in giddy anticipation.

THE SOUND OF A GUN SHOT BOOMS, surprising all because it was not fired by the thug, but by Tattoo Man. The bullet strikes the thug in the arm, causing him to whirl and face Tattoo Man in shock, who FIRES A SECOND SHOT THAT STRIKES THE THUG IN THE CHEST.

Black Suit and White Suit glance between Tattoo Man, whose gun is raised in their direction, and the thug weakly teetering. THE THUG FALLS DEAD INTO A NEARBY GROUP OF GARBAGE CANS IN A LOUD CRASH.

WHITE SUIT IMMEDIATELY LAUGHS IN MANIACAL GLEE.

Black Suit glares at Tattoo Man with expertly managed rage. He drops his cigarette and makes his way to the alley exit, followed by White Suit.

BLACK SUIT

You’re fucking dead.

He leaves. White Suit lingers in a strange attempt to reproduce Black Suits departure, but with his own uniquely crazy.

WHITE SUIT

Yeah man. You ARE dead!

He BREAKS OUT LAUGHING, AND GLEEFULLY BOUNDS OUT OF THE ALLEY.

Tattoo Man keeps his pistol pointed in their direction, then glances towards the victim, still clutching his shoulder, still terrified. Tattoo Man lowers his gun and departs.

CUT TO:

INT. 75 DAGGETT STREET, MAIN SPACE - NIGHT

Tattoo Man bursts through the door, driven by purpose. A IMAGINED COMIC BOOK PANEL FLOWS INTO VIEW, reflecting Tattoo Man’s entry, along with expositional description.

EXPOSITIONAL DESCRIPTION

“I’m a superhero now!”

CUT TO:

INT. 75 DAGGETT STREET, BEDROOM - NIGHT

Tattoo Man crouches in front of a milk crate full of comic books, and begins pulling out issues. Once again, AN IMAGINED COMIC BOOK PANEL FADES INTO VIEW, showing Tattoo Man’s entry, along with expositional description.

EXPOSITIONAL DESCRIPTION

“I need a mask!” he thought.

CUT TO:

INT. 75 DAGGETT STREET, MAIN SPACE - NIGHT

Tattoo Man rushes to his tattoo station, shedding his coat and shirt along the way. ANOTHER COMIC BOOK PANEL FLOWS INTO VIEW.

EXPOSITIONAL DESCRIPTION

“A permanent mask.”

Tattoo Man grabs his tattoo gun and its familiar BUZZ RESONATES THROUGH THE BLACKNESS AROUND HIM. He sets a mirror in front of himself, and begins inking around his eyes.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. LOT BEHIND YORK BOOKSTORE - DAY

A COMIC BOOK PANEL FADES INTO VIEW showing an unrecognized MAN in front of a brick wall.

EXPOSITIONAL DESCRIPTION

Meanwhile, somewhere else.

THE COMIC BOOK PANEL DISSOLVES INTO A REAL-LIFE VERSION OF ITSELF. From offscreen A FIST CONNECTS WITH THE MAN’S JAW, KNOCKING HIM DOWN.

CUT TO:

BLACK SUIT AND WHITE SUIT VIOLENTLY KICKING THE DOWNED MAN INTO UNCONSCIOUSNESS. White Suit delivers three more kicks before SHOUTING TO THE WORLD IN MANIC SATISFACTION.

Not yet satisfied, BLACK SUIT RELENTLESSLY KICKS THE MAN FOR AN ADDITIONAL TEN SECONDS, before flicking the remainder of his lit cigarette at his victim.

BLACK SUIT

Prick.

WHITE SUIT

Yeah, prick.

BLACK SUIT

I fucking wish that was the guy

fromlast night.

Black Suit approaches the nearby alley, while White Suit lingers to light a cigarette.

BLACK SUIT

You coming or what?

WHITE SUIT

Yeah.

White Suit hustles to catch up.

CUT TO:

EXT. ALLEY NEXT TO YORK BOOKSTORE - DAY

As Black Suit and White Suit make their way through the alley, White Suit notices something of interest.

WHITE SUIT

Hey.

White Suit directs Black Suit’s attention to one of TATTOO MAN’S FLIERS ON THE NEARBY BRICK WALL. Black Suit yanks it free and inspects it, quickly discovering the phone number.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. 75 DAGGETT STREET, MAIN SPACE - DAY

The sound of the ringing phone resonates as Tattoo Man, silhouetted by the sunlight from the nearby window, stumbles to it. Dazed, he brings the receiver to his ear.

TATTOO MAN

Hello? (beat) Oh, you want a tattoo. Sure,

I’ll give you a tattoo. Come on over. (beat)

Number 75 Daggett Street, 3-2.

CUT TO:

EXT. STREET, PAY PHONE - SECONDS LATER

White Suit slams the pay phone receiver into the cradle.

WHITE SUIT

Number 75 Daggett Street, 3-2!

Black Suit finishes lighting his cigarette.

BLACK SUIT

Let’s get our stuff and go.

FADE IN:

INT. 75 DAGGETT STREET, MAIN SPACE - NIGHT

After knocking on the door, BRAID HEAD TURNS THE KNOB AND FINDS IT’S UNLOCKED.

BRAID HEAD

Hello?

He cautiously enters the darkened space and moves through small pockets of light, leaving the door open behind him. Midway in, he instinctively stops.

BRAID HEAD

Is anyone home?

He is answered by THE SOUND OF A 9MM PISTOL SLIDE CHAMBERING A BULLET. Tatoo Man steps into the light, HIS SHIRTLESS CHEST SLOPPY WITH BLOOD FALLEN DURING THE MAKING OF HIS NEW TATTOO: A BLACK SUPERHERO MASK.

BRAID HEAD

(shock)

Jesus Christ!

TATTOO MAN

No. Tattoo Man. Defender of the weak.

BRAID HEAD

(beat)

Jesus Christ.

THE SOUND OF A GUNSHOT REVERBERATES THROUGH THE SPACE, its bullet fired from White Suit. IT IMPACTS BRAID HEAD IN THE BACK, INSTANTLY KILLING HIM.

White Suit, standing by the open doorway, ERUPTS IN HIS NOW STANDARD LAUGHTER, BUT WITH A DISTINCT NOTE OF SEXUAL EXCITEMENT.

Black Suit slowly enters the space, holding a large caliber revolver.

BLACK SUIT

What’s up, psycho?

White Suit raises his gun towards Tattoo Man AND FIRES A SHOT. It misses, and before he can fire another, Tattoo Man responds with his own VOLLEY OF SHOTS. BLACK SUIT QUICKLY RETREATS TO THE HALLWAY, AS WHITE SUIT LAUGHS INSANELY AS HIS BODY IS PEPPERED WITH BULLETS.

Tattoo Man pauses his assault, almost admiring his work. White Suit is out of breath, but CONTINUES LAUGHING QUIETLY, WHILE EXAMINING HIS INJURIES.

White Suit extends his arms invitationally, then meets eyes with Tattoo Man. Seconds pass, until TATTOO MAN FIRE A FINAL SHOT, STRIKING WHITE SUIT BETWEEN THE EYES. Tattoo Man disappears into the shadows.

Defying reality by the power of his psychosis, WHITE SUIT REMAINS CONSCIOUS, ON HIS FEET, GIGGLING AT HIS END. Eventually the life completely drains from him, and he drops to the floor dead.

Black Suit cautiously enters the space with his revolver raised. He uses a moment to confirm White Suit’s demise, before beginning his search for Tattoo Man in the dark.

Tattoo Man emerges from the shadows, pistol raised, and the two quickly find themselves in a STANDOFF. In spite of the darkness, Black Suit gets a look at the TATTOOED MASK ON TATTOO MAN’S FACE.

BLACK SUIT

What the fuck are you supposed to be?

Tattoo Man is unresponsive. Black Suit cocks the hammer on his revolver.

BLACK SUIT

Death is forever, kid.

Slowly, Tattoo Man opens his grip and lets his pistol fall to the floor. He stands waiting. Black Suit recognizes Tattoo Man’s request. He uncocks the hammer of his revolver.

BLACK SUIT

Do it yourself.

Black Suit holsters his weapon and leaves, while Tattoo Man hangs his head in shame.

DISSOLVE TO:

Tattoo Man sitting on the floor, watching the 1978 film THE DEER HUNTER on TV. Buddy the Dog emerges from the shadows, and curls up by his master.

FADE TO BLACK.

Ink Face is a no-budget indie film shot on super-8 (R.I.P.) by Dave Lasala and Chris Hallaway, initially bumped to super VHS, then edited on a first generation Avid system at meager resolution. Sometime later it was re-edited using slightly better (though not much) resolution raw footage. In recognition of its twenty-third year of existence, an upscale version (still 4x4) has been rendered and uploaded. It was shot on location in New Haven, CT, with large portions done at the now defunct Dagget Street Square.

Film by

Directed by D.Lasala

Produced by Christian E. Hallaway

Written by L.O. Loverun (uncredited)

Cast

Matt Stevens as White Suit

Christian E. Hallaway as Black Suit

Jon Rogers as Braid Head

D.Lasala as Tattoo Man

George Blake as Alley Bad Guy (voice by Chris Mazzacane)

Leo as Alley Victim

Mike Lasala as Outdoor Victim

Dave Hallaway as Tattoo Client

Kristy Morris as Girlfriend

Buddy as Dog

Rudy Kazooti as Gun Salesman