TITLE:           Reparations?  What!

AN EPISODE OF ALLY MCBEAL

I’D REALLY LIKE TO PRODUCE

by Emily Nghiem, 2001

 

Calista enters the set.  Cast members cart off legal boxes of books.

 

Ally:                 What’s going on?  Finally repairing the huge leak in the ceiling?

 

Woman 1:                    No, honey.  We’re expanding.  Big time!

(with 2 boxes

of legal files)

 

Woman 2:        They’re completely rebuilding the law library.  Taking on a

                        colossal class action.  (women load boxes onto elevator dolly)

 

Ally:                 Richard, is there something I should know about?  The

                        show’s not being cancelled, is it?  In mid-season?

 

Richard:            (holds door, directs beeline) No.  You haven’t heard?

                        (pulls Ally aside)  Listen, two of the senior partners

                        cut a deal with the big boss upstairs (eyes roll up) to get

                        us more library space if we agree to take a federal case--

 

Ally:                 Cut a deal with whom? The set designers? Studio owners?

 

Richard:            Shhhh!  The big guy! B-I-G.  No one’s supposed to know. 

 

Ally:                 Who then?  With God?  Someone bigger than that?

 

Richard:            The network producers.  Some private grantor paid a 

(whispers)        million some-odd dollars into the show’s budget if we’d do

                        a favor for his best friend’s god-daughter, whoever.  Some

                        small-time public housing activist from Houston.  But for

                        the sake of the script, all we’re supposed to know is she’s

                        the landlord’s niece-by-marriage.  We’re doing this just to

                        get a brand new library out of the deal.  Got it? Now shhh!

 

Ally:                 The landlord’s niece?  So that’s our new client, hmm?

 

Richard:            Heard she’s a total nut.  We’re supposed to humor her.

Until the writers cut a deal with the feds to settle this thing.

 

Ally and Richard enter office, look around. Richard slips Ally a script.

 

Ally:                 What is it, a class-action?  Over Reparations!  What?

 

Richard:            Shhh!  All I know is the woman we’re representing is a civil

                        rights freak.  I’m not even supposed to know that.  Or have

                        this script.  You get caught with this, didn’t get it from me!

 

Ally (flips through script, flipping out):  Whoa! Did Rev. Jesse Jackson have

                        anything to do with this? Or are the writers on strike again?

 

Richard (escorts Ally to her office):       Whatever you do, just act normal.

(waves and shuts door)                        Act like you don’t know anything.

 

Ally sighs.  Throws script into her top drawer.  Startled by a voice.

 

Emily locks the door, blocks it with her chair, sits down cross-armed.

 

Ally (jumps up):            Who are you?  Are you --

 

Emily:               You’ve got the script, Calista.  You know who I am.  I’m the

                        landlord’s “nutcase” “niece-by-marriage”.  Ha! That’s good!

 

Ally:                 Calista?  My name is Ally.  And your name is --

 

Emily:               Emily.  (holds out hand) I use my real name.  Unlike you.

(looks around) Where are the cameras?  I know we can’t

                                                look at them directly.  So where are they?

 

Ally:                 Cameras?  Script?  What are you talking about?

 

Emily:               Give it up, Miss Flockhart.  You’re a Hollywood actress.

                        And this is a prime time hit TV show.  We both know that.

 

Ally:                 What?  We’re a law firm.  And you’re our new client, right?

 

Emily:               All right, all right.  I’ll stick to the script.  The reason I’m

                        hiring you, is I can’t find legal representation in Houston.

 

I’m sitting on a 30-year civil rights battle over land the government took from Freed

Slaves descendants.  Historic property the city wants to sell to developers to build

high-rise slums.  But we can’t find a lawyer to protect poor black residents, so the

case drags on.  But your firm, your firm is great!  I’ve watched you every week on TV.

 

Ally:                 On TV?  What?

 

Emily:               You settle cases in one hour.  Just like that (snaps fingers)

                        And that includes commercial breaks.  You’re just what we

                        need.  You gotta help us sue the government.

 

Ally:                 For what?

 

Emily:               For fraud.  Conspiring with developers to violate its own

                        laws.  Under the RICO act.  You know, racketeering?

 

Ally:                 Just a moment please.  (presses telecom)  Richard!  Get

                        your butt in here right now!  Yes, she is!  It’s unbelievable!

 

Ally leaves intercom on.  Richard and others listen from his office, smirking.

 

Richard:            Just humor her.  I know, I know.  Try not to laugh.  You’ll

get us all fired.  Of course, but don’t tell her that.  Act like

you don’t know.  Let her do all the talking.  Stay in character!

                        (Richard hangs up, laughing to himself:  Oh, God, this is wild!)

 

Ally:                 Sorry.  I just, I . . . this is very hard for me to . . . uh . . .

 

Emily:               Look, I’m sorry.  I’ll make it easy on you.  Just let me say

                        my lines.  You just sit there.  Don’t have to say a thing.

 

Ally:                 Don’t worry.  I’m speechless.

 

Emily:               The point of this episode, I mean, this quote “federal case”

                        is to get it publicized on national TV, I mean, to create

                        documentation on public record, through the camera, I

                        mean, the courts, the federal courts (leans forward) When

we’re done, tell me where they hid the cameras, okay?

 

Ally (rolls eyes):    Don’t know what you’re talking about.  Are you demanding

    reparations for slavery?  From whom?  For what?

 

Emily:               Reparations upon reparations.  For insult added to injury.

Not only have freed slaves been denied their “40 acres

and a mule” but their descendants have been cheated of civil rights.

No one wants to acknowledge the plight of poor blacks displaced by

gentrification.  Well, I call it urban gentricide.  Whole communities

killed off in the name of commercial real estate development, just because

federal courts favor big corporations.  Everyone in Texas knows that.

 

Co-workers in Richard’s office exchange amazed glances and side comments.

 

Man 1:             Unbelievable!  She just spat out more lines in a single breath

                        than I got the entire last season combined!  Who’s her agent?

 

Woman 2:        (looking at script) That’s nothing.  Look at this huge speech she’s

got, coming up in a few pages –

 

Richard:            Be quiet!  I’m trying to listen, guys!

 

Man 2 (to Richard):      And Hamlet here has a whole monologue to himself!

 

Woman 1:        Shhhhhh!

 

Emily:   So corporate law firms deliberately abuse federal courts to deny poor

people their right to petition in state court. It’s been going on for years.

 

Ally:        Can’t blame the legal system.  People are equal under the law.

    

Emily:   IF they ever get to court.  With an honest lawyer who won’t sell them out.

But it’s not happening here.  In effect, the legal system abridges the right to

petition. That’s reality.  And it’s unconstitutional!  Look at the First Amendment.

Or the Fourteenth.  What do those say?  Know what the Bill of Rights says?

 

Ally:                 I’m not a constitutional lawyer.  You’ll have to speak with

                        Richard.  Let me page him for you.  Just a second. (pages)

                        Richard.  Can you come in here? No, on constitutional law.

 

Emily (presses the button, looks her in the eye):  Congress shall make

            no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting

the free exercise thereof;  or abridging the freedom of speech

[that’s what we’re exercising now], or of the press; or the right

of the people PEACEABLY to ASSEMBLE, and to PETITION

THE GOVERNMENT for a REDRESS OF GRIEVANCES.

Which amendment is that, Miss Lockhart?

 

Ally:     The First Amendment.  And that’s Flockhart, not Lockhart.

 

Emily:   Aha, caught you that time!  I’m sorry.  Miss McBeal?

(to cameras) Sorry!  (waves and winks, hear set crew laughing)

Remember to edit that bit out, okay?  Now where were we?

 

Ally:     On the First Amendment.  Which is fine, but you still have to follow civil

procedure in any court.  And I’m sure the statute of limitations has run.

 

Emily:               Have you ever heard of the consent of the governed?  The

authority of the people?  Section 2 of the Texas Bill of Rights?

 

Ally:                 Now you’re getting into Texas law.  I’m sorry, I’m just an --

 

Emily:               A paid actress.  I know.  Read your script.  I know you’ve got

it stashed away in your desk.  The cites are in the appendix.

           

Ally:                 Let’s see.  Exhibit One, the Declaration of Independence?

                        By Jefferson?  Didn’t he own slaves he wouldn’t release?

 

Emily:               He couldn’t if they were owned by the bank.  Mortgaged

like property, who knows?  At least Jefferson educated his

                        slaves, taught them to READ.  Unlike lawyers who won’t

                        even look at the laws.  Or want to know what they say.

 

Ally:                 “... the just powers of government are derived from the

                        consent of the governed ...”

 

Emily:               That’s the spirit of the law. Consent. Go on. About the

people’s right in Texas to alter or abolish their government --

 

Ally:                 In any way they deem expedient so long as they respect a 

                        republican form of government?  Is this really the law?

 

Emily:               Yes, but it’s never been used.  Until now.  I’m asking you

                        to apply the First Amendment.  To restore every citizen’s

                        right to petition, freely and publicly, beyond a court system

                        that has failed to provide equal protection under the law to

                        everyone, to poor people, by the Fourteenth Amendment.

 

Ally:                 What reparations are you petitioning for?

 

Emily:               To return the freed slave settlement in Houston to

                        descendants of the original owners.  To reverse the

                        decision, the damage done by “eminent domain.” 

(flips through script) See Appendix 5.

Eight black families fought all the way to the Supreme Court to retain their land, their

property ownership in Freedmen’s Town.  That proves they did not give their consent.

 

Man 2:             Here it comes, folks.  Her big diatribe on democracy.

                        The pledge of allegiance to free speech.  (puts hand over his heart)

 

Woman 1:        Shut-up.  (puts her hand over his mouth)

 

Emily: And without consent, we have no laws, no rights, no democracy.  We have dictatorship.

Completely against the spirit of the Constitution, the Bill of Rights.  Those poor families,

and now the current residents, have been denied their First Amendment right to assemble

as a community and to petition for their existence.  Their right to life, liberty, property.

National historical property, destroyed by corporate developers, who know they can’t

fight back in court.  It’s a conspiracy, to violate rights. The voice of the people must be heard.

 

Ally:                 That’s a beautiful concept, Emily.  Ideal democracy.  But

                        it’s nowhere near reality. We can’t be perfect. Nobody is.

 

Emily:               But that’s what our laws say!  If we don’t live up to our own

                        standards, we’re living a lie. Breaking the law.  We’d have

                        true equality, if we just followed our own written principles:

                        free speech, free press, right to petition...  If people would

                        only listen!  Wait, don’t go! (tries to stop Ally from leaving)

 

Ally:                 Actually, I’ve heard enough.  I’m taking a lunch break.

                        (grabs purse) Because you’re already out to lunch.  Bye!

 

Emily:               You mean a commercial break!  Just say it!  Be honest!                                    

You lawyers, you Hollywood people!  You’re all in denial!

                        Where are those other cameras?  I want my free speech!

 

INSERT COMMERCIAL BREAK.  Commercial stops.  Voices heard.

 

Emily:               Wait a minute.  Why aren’t there any black people.  Or

                        Asian people in this ad. Got something against minorities?

 

Producer:         That’s not the target audience. That’s not what consumers

                        respond to.  Now don’t insult the commercial sponsors

                        paying for your airtime, so you can have your free speech!

 

Emily:               Why is the only Asian chick on the show a slut?  And

                        when I make a guest appearance, trying to be real,

                        suddenly I’m a First Amendment fruitcake.  Why is that?

                        Huh?  Where is Jesse Jackson when you need him?

 

Producer:         Somebody shut her up.  Got any ads with mixed families?

                        Children?  A car ad?  Something animated.  NO PEOPLE!

 

RUN COMMERCIAL.  Sound cuts on and off. Hear arguing, punching.

 

Ally (in Richard’s office):           Yes, I locked the door.  Can’t have her

                                                running around the office, screaming about

                                                reparations and consent of the governed!

She’s convinced we’re actors on a TV show!

 

Richard:            We are!  And the laws really say those things.  She’s right!

 

Ally:                 Shhhh!  We can’t say that.  We’re not supposed to discuss

                        any of this.  None of it.  Not on national network television!

 

Richard:            It’s like the “Emperor’s New Clothes.”  Everyone runs

                        around bragging about what a wonderful Constitution we

                        have.  America is the greatest democratic republic in the

                        world.  Ha! We’re just as messed up as anyone else! It’s

                        all a lie!  The Emperor is naked, and here comes this little

                        girl, pointing out we don’t really have all those wonderful

                        rights and freedoms we proclaim to uphold for everyone.

                        And what do we do?  Do we admit we’ve been lying to

                        ourselves?  No, we tell this little girl she’s a freak.  When

                        we known darned right, she’s telling the truth.  Hallelujah!

                        God Bless America!  (he laughs, leans back in his chair)

 

(telephone rings, he picks it up)   What? Where are you, Emily?  Holy

                        Cathedral!  Ally, she’s climbed out the window.  Look!

(he looks out the window, sees Emily on the ledge on a cell phone)

                        No, no.  Stay right there.  I’ll, yes, I’ll get the cameras.

                        Fine.  Just don’t jump.  We don’t need a live catastrophe.

                        You’ll have all the press coverage you want.  Just hold on!

(hangs up)        Ally, we gotta think fast!  Quick, get John.  Go!  Hurry!

 

John hurries down the hall.  Cast members crowd him, panicking.

 

John:                Calm down, everyone.  Quiet!  Now this is the plan.  From

                        now on, I’m the quote “TV director.”  Got that? Great!

YOU (grabs Woman 1) are “Camera One.”  Stand right here, directly across,

where she can see you.  Let her know we’re hiring minorities.  Calm her down some.

Lucy Liu?  Where’s Lucy?  She thinks you’re a slut.  We might need you to start

an argument with her, distract her a little.  Till we can get the mental health authorities

on the set.  We don’t want to call the police or the press at this time.  If anyone can

get her family on the phone, maybe they can talk to her.  Get her off that ledge.

 

John talks through the door to Emily sitting on ledge. Light drizzle falls.

 

John:                Emily?  It’s me, the director.  Can we talk for a second?

 

Emily:               No, I’m not talking to anyone until I get my free speech.

 

John:                Oh, that makes a lot of sense!  (bangs his head on wall)

 

Richard:            John!  We got a hold of her brother Arthur!  He’s going to

                        call her on her cell phone.  If she’ll hang on just a minute!

 

John:                Emily, your brother Arthur is going to call you. It’s not in

                        the script, but it’s really him. Just ad lib, okay? So when

                        the phone rings, answer it.  Ready on the set?  Roll it!

 

The telephone rings.  Emily picks it up, in tears, soaking in the rain.

 

Emily:               Arthur? No I feel awful. It’s so bad. They won’t listen to me. 

                        They think it’s all a big joke.  As if people don’t matter. 

                        Civil rights, consent, none of that matters.  Only money. 

                        That’s all anyone cares about.  I can’t live like this.  I can’t.

 

Arthur’s            You’re doing fine.  You’ve made your statement.  So let it

voice:               go.  Someone will listen.  Can we pray now?  Want me to -

 

Emily:               I did.  I prayed when I wrote the script.  But no one wants

                        to read it, or produce it.  They can’t follow anything it says.

                        It goes right over their heads.  They think I’m nuts.  Am I?

 

Arthur:              Uh...I take the Fifth Amendment on that.  But your heart’s in

                        the right place.  People respond to that.  Trust me, okay?

                        I need you to come home.  Your friends need you here.

                        You can win this battle, don’t give up now!  We can beat

                        this thing. You gotta come home, we’re all rooting for you!

                        Emily?  Emily are you there!  Oh, God, Mom I think she ...

 

Emily looks up through her tears, to see the white clouds part, as the

sun breaks through.  Sunlight streams down on her face, as a little girl.

 

Emily:               God?  Have I failed?  I tried to give them the spirit of the

(as a little          law.  But they’ve forgotten it.  Why?  It’s so simple.  Why

girl crying)        don’t they understand?  Please open their hearts. Please!      

                        I can’t live in a world where the law says one thing, but

we do something else.  I hate it!  Take me away, Lord.  I want to be with

you.  Where people love each other.  Where people really listen.  I’m so

tired, God.  Let me rest.  Rock me to sleep.  Till I wake in your arms.

 

The sun floods the sky with a blinding light.  John and Richard burst

through the door to find the cell phone on the empty window ledge.

They look down, but there is nothing below.  Just everyday traffic.

 

John:                Well, where is she?  Richard, go down and check.

                        Maybe she’s in the lunch room.  She’s gotta be --

 

Ally:                 There’s no sign of her, anywhere.  I’ve looked.

 

Richard:            There you are, Ally.  Whew! We just landed a huge federal

                        case, and the big boss man wants you on it right away!

 

Ally:                 What, not the reparations deal.  I am NOT touching that!

 

John:                No, concerning the actors’ strike.  Antitrust accusations, RICO.

(puzzled)          Writers conspiring with producers to abridge the equal right to

speech for all actors.  Noble cause, huh?  Tons of research.

 

Richard:            Yeah, we’re having to expand the library to accommodate it

                        all.  Where you going Ally?  Aren’t you excited!  This is big!

 

Ally:                 To look for Emily, Ms. Reparations? Aren't you --

(looks around, everyone on the set is back to normal)

 

John: Who? (looks at Richard) Emily?

Richard: Reparations? (looks at John) What?

 

Ally:                 Y’know.  The “landlord’s niece”?  The civil rights activist?

                        Oh, that’s right.  You’re not supposed to know.  We

                        shouldn’t even be having this conversation, is that it?

 

John and Richard follow Ally to the door, which is no longer broken in.

 

Richard:            What are you talking about?  Something I wasn’t told?

 

John:                Are you holding out on us, Ally?  C’mon, Ally, tell us!

 

Ally looks around.  There is no script, no sign of Emily anywhere.

 

Ally:                 Who took the script from my desk?  It was right here

before I left for lunch.  Where is it?  Where’s Emily?

 

John/Richard:    What script?  Who’s Emily?  (shake their heads)

 

Ally:                 You really don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?  

 

Richard:            No.  And to tell you frankly.  We don’t want to know. Bye!

 

They shut the door.  Ally sighs.  Looks out the window.  Sees a white

dove on the ledge, an olive branch in its beak, flying towards the sun. 

 


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