Two teenage boys in a New York City neighborhood play roller hockey while learning about life, family and the value of friendship in the fall of 1974.

SYNOPSIS:

Set in the mid 1970's,The Penalty Box is a look at life as a teenager growing up in New York City. The story winds itself around the lives of two teenagers that live, eat and breath roller hockey. They come from rival neighborhoods and this time more than just " bragging rights" are on the line. Everything changes for the two boys after the last game of the season. One of them gets news that'll alter his life forever, while the other one settles into where it all started.

THE PENALTY BOX

by Steve O’Brien

12.13.16

FADE IN

INTERIOR OF NYC APARTMENT BUILDING STAIRWELL

late afternoon-mid October 1974

WE see the stocking feet of a teenage boy as he takes two steps at a time down his New York City apartment building staircase.

WE see glimpses of a hockey stick, roller skates and the bottom of a well worn jersey as he leaps from one marble step to the next one below.

EXT – minutes later

He makes his way to the front of his building where he plops down onto steps to put on his skates.

WE keep the camera angle tight on his skates with their frayed and mismatched laces. Tying them the best he can he stands and WE see now his jeans are torn and faded as well.

He steps out into the street in front of his building.

WE watch as he rocks back and forth on his roller skates, testing them, making sure their tight. .

Our camera view stays low on his legs and skating motion throughout this scene. He steps out into the city street. He pauses a calculated moment as a car passes by him. He starts skating onto Cooper Street which is several city blocks long and he will skate its entire length. Keeping our camera view at street level WE see ahead of him the long straight stretch of asphalt slashed with busy traffic intersections along the way.

The steel of his skates rumble and vibrate on the city street surface, he feels that sensation making its way throughout his body. It’s a feeling of control and power. Skates and legs become one single seamless movement. He picks up some speed and begins swerving side to side up the street. His skating is methodical and well practiced as he avoids passing automobiles and the always dangerous skate wheel destroying sewer manhole covers. He waves here and there to people that live on these streets, they wave back; they all know him as the kid who plays hockey, every single day.

At the 204th St intersection, again he expertly times the passing of a car as he glides his teenage frame across the black asphalt street surface. He’ll pick up speed for a moment or two and then he’ll rest his gloved hands on his knees as he again glides side to side.

At the 207th St intersection, he sees more people that he knows, mostly old-timers from his dads bar, a few wave at him, one asks him if they’ll win on Sunday. “I sure hope so Mr Meehan,” he yells back without stopping.

And he skates onward, swerving and shooting imaginary pucks at the parked cars he’s flying past. As he nears the end of Cooper Street he passes his Catholic grammar school and neighborhood church, it is here that like a good catholic boy he instinctively bows his head and makes the sign of the cross.

And then like he’s done a hundred times before he leans gracefully into a left turn onto ISHAM Street, which has a small hill that gently slopes downward as Inwood Hill Park, his park, comes fully into view. Here he picks up some speed as he pushes forward through the chilly afternoon wind.

The park entrance is at the bottom of the hill and across Seaman Ave. There’s a traffic light at this busy corner but he does not slow down, instead he begins calculating his odds of not having to stop at all. The traffic light suddenly turns green allowing the cars to enter and fill the intersection simultaneously in both directions. He drags one skate sideways like a brake to slow himself down as a car passes right in front of him. But wait, there’s an opening before the next oncoming car and without ever breaking his stride he lifts the dragging skate and slams it hard into the asphalt

His spur like kick shoots him to the other side of the street as the oncoming car just missing him angrily beeps its horn as it passes. He hops up the curb one skate at a time and WE now hear the distinctive sound his metal skates make as they transition from the smooth black asphalt of the street to grey gravel like park pathway. It’s a harsher rumbling, crunching sound that immediately shatters the peaceful park silence.

THE camera view is now focused on the tennis courts ahead, where a weathered green chain link fence completely encloses the courts. The cooler New York City weather at this time of the year allows these courts to be used for hockey games.

WE follow him as he skates towards a piece of fence that is pulled back and bent open by years of kids using it as a shortcut. And with great ease WE see him bend down a bit as he slips through the fence opening.

WE now see the back of his hockey jersey; it is faded white and blue, and dirty on the elbows. Some of the letters of his name across shoulder are hanging on by mere threads.

OBrien

THE sound of his skate wheels on the smooth tennis court surface is a welcome sound to him. He glides effortlessly across the painted lines on the court. He reaches into his jean pocket and pulls out a used roll of black electrical tape and drops it onto the ground in front of him. With his hockey stick he pokes and pushes the tape puck ahead of him as he picks up speed. Narrating his own moves WE hear him say, “Obrien has the puck, he’s all alone, it’s just him and the goaltender, the crowd is going nuts ( we hear him hoarsely imitating a crowd screaming, OBRIEN OBRIEN)” WE see him skating and turning as if he is outsmarting and out-skating some imaginary defense-men. He weaves and turns, he shoots.

THE camera follows the puck as it leaves his stick, flying through the air and WE watch as it becomes swallowed by the white netting of the empty goal, and then bouncing off the netting it falls helplessly into a corner pile of leaves that have gathered on the goal floor.

SCORE SCORE SCORE, OBRIEN HAS DONE IT AGAIN WHOOHOO” He yells excitedly, waving his hands in the air as he turns the front of his body towards the camera.

WE hear this celebrating in the background as the camera (still on the net) slowly pulls back from the puck along the court surface and then travels to his skates then upwards.

WE see the front of his hockey jersey and the letters of his team the Carvel Rangers sewn diagonally across the front.

It is now that WE finally see his face, the dark hair, the bright blue Irish eyes, and a devilish grin to match it all. He skates to the net and using the blade tip of his stick he digs the tape puck from under the pile of fall leaves.

OBrien begins skating around again with the puck, just having fun alone.

In the background WE suddenly hear another sound.

CLICKITY CLICK CLACK,

It’s the rattling sound of a hockey stick blade being dragged against the chain link fence. It is a familiar sound, a kind of calling to these young hockey players.

THE camera view now shows us several more stick blades being dragged across the chain link fence.

WE see more faded and torn hockey jerseys.

WE again hear that same rough crunching sound as more skates roll across the park path.

Then WE hear the sound of these skates suddenly becoming quieter as they too now roll onto the smooth tennis court surface.

WE see OBrien smiling as he looks at his buddies who came to play, he shoots the tape puck into the middle of their fray and they immediately begin to pass the puck around. One of his friends GREG shouts over to him, “OB, HEY STEVE we gonna play or what?”

Squinting his eyes defiantly into the bright setting afternoon sun he says, “Hell Yeah, let’s get a quick game in before dark.”

WE see the camera slowly pulling back, the players becoming blurred in the lens as the bright orange October sun is setting over the rooftops of the buildings that surround the park.

The sunlight and the rooftops become a bit sharper in this shot here as the Movie Title and intro credits begin to roll.

The Penalty Box

The credits continue to roll as WE (blurry) see the group of hockey players skating and passing the puck around.

WE hear background laughter and the sound of roller skates filling the air – the camera view is still blurry and as the intro credits roll.

WE experience the slow setting sun and the impending arrival of evening dusk….

WE NOW see OBrien/STEVE skating back up Isham St and he makes a right onto Cooper St again. It’s a bit darker now as he skates towards home. The credits continue to roll as we watch him skate back to his apartment building entrance.