The lives of 3 women merge into one clever and comedic mix in “The Carmens”. Three very different women, with one name in common, end up working in the same office– and discovering that despite being such opposites, they are more alike then they ever would have thought.
The Carmens
A half hour comedy pilot
INT. MORNING. CARMEN MEDINA’S HOUSE
Vicente Fernandez serenades the comfortable, modest home from
the CD player. CARMEN MEDINA, an energetic, somewhat
melodramatic, Mexican-American divorce in her early 40’s
bustles around the busy home. She oscillates between each of
her twin 20 year old daughters, helping them get dressed and
ready for the elaborate wedding. CHRISTINA makes a beautiful
bride, her caramel-colored skin glowing next to her white
gown, her long shiny black hair in curls atop her head. Her
twin sister, MARINA a carbon copy of her sister, but sporting
a short, trendy, haircut, is a picture-perfect maid-of-honor.
CARMEN M.
(Fussing over her hair and make-up)
Ay, hijita. You are the most
beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.
CHRISTINA
Mom, stop already. Tia Yolie did a
great job.
(Glancing approvingly in
the mirror)
Don’t you have to finish getting
dressed yourself. Everyone looks at
the Mother of the Bride. You want
them to gossip about how hot you
look.
CARMEN M.
What they’ll be saying is: Pobre
Carmen, first her husband abandoned
her, and now her lovely daughters
can’t wait to leave the house. That
woman doesn’t deserve so much
heartache…
In walks MARINA
MARINA
Button me, por favor, Mami
CARMEN M.
(Pleased one of her
daughters needs her help)
(MORE)
I’m going to miss all this when
both of my daughters have left me
all alone.
CHRISTINA
Not this again! Come on Mom, it’s
supposed to be a happy day. No
puedes ser feliz?
MARINA
Anyways, the way Christina carries
on with that new husband of hers,
there’ll be plenty of grandchildren
running around this house, raising
hell, soon enough.
CHRISTINA
And the way Marina freeloads,
she’ll be back from Berkeley every
month so she can do her laundry and
have you cook.
CARMEN M.
Ojala que si. I want both of my
girls visiting all the time. This
will always be your home as long as
I’m here.
(Fussing with MARINA’s
hair now)
Hold still, just let me…
CUT TO:
INT. MORNING. CARMEN COLLINS’ HOUSE.
U2 plays faintly in the background of the organized, welldecorated
middle class home of Cuban American CARMEN COLLINS
and her Irish American husband CARTER. Carmen is a lightskinned
Latina with expensive blonde high-lights, impeccable
fashion sense, and no trace of an accent. In contrast to the
house we just left, the furniture and fixtures of this home
seem more for display than for comfort or function. As we
open, Carmen puts on earrings while conversing with Carter
who is watching ESPN.
CARMEN C.
We don’t have to stay long. I just
want to make an appearance and
offer my congratulations. Do these
look alright?
Not waiting for an answer she goes into her closet to select
a pair of shoes
CARTER
(Keeping his eyes on the
TV screen)
Whatever Hon. I have some work I
wanted to get to tonight.
CARMEN C.
Emerging from the closet with expensive shoe wear
I would’ve liked to take the BMW in
for an oil change and stop by the
Farmer’s Market– this damn wedding
is so inconvenient. I had things I
needed to get done today.
CARTER
C’mon Hon, it’ll be fine to relax
for once. You might get along
better with the other Carmens once
you hang with them outside the
office. Have a few drinks, laugh a
little, bullshit a little– you’ll
be one of the gang in no time.
CARMEN C.
I’m not really one for “bullshit”.
Besides, I just…don’t really have
much in common with them. Other
than a name.
(Yelling)
Aaron…Sadie– 5 minutes and we’re
leaving. I want TVs, computers, and
IPODs turned off and everything put
away.
CARTER
Three women, all named Carmen. That
must make for some confusion and
chaos around the office. Must give
everyone some comic relief on a
stressful day.
CARMEN C.
Wait till you meet them. The names
are the least of my problems. Too
bad I don’t have a sense of humor,
the comedy of it all is lost on me.
CARTER
You said they’re Latin like you.
That’s something.
Carmen makes a sour face.
I’m tellin’ you, take this
opportunity to get to know them a
little. They can’t be that bad.
Work will be run a lot smoother,
and be more entertaining, if you
get along with the other girls in
the office. Trust me.
CARMEN C.
I don’t know. Work isn’t
entertainment it’s about getting
the job done– and getting it done
well.
(Coming around a little)
But I guess, it wouldn’t be so bad
to have a few allies at the office.
I just wish I had more in common
with them. They’re just not really
my crowd. And I have a feeling this
reception is not going to be our
scene. I hope you ate a little
something like I told you to. You
might not like the food.
CUT TO:
INT. CARMEN AYALA’S HOUSE. MORNING.
In sharp contrast to the quiet, distinguished household we
just left, we open to a cacophonous sound track of hip-hop
music blaring, the TV playing, fan whirling, and noise from
the street below wafting in through the open window. Puerto
Rican CARMEN AYALA is a sexy, bold, impetuous young woman
with a coke bottle figure. A figure she accentuates with
tight clothes and plunging necklines. We see her in front of
the bathroom window with a colorful array of beauty tools:
lipstick tubes, curling iron, hair sprays and gels, eye
shadows, eyeliners and much, much more.
The phone rings
CARMEN A.
Curling her hair with one hand and reaching across the
bathroom sink for her cell phone with the other. She puts the
phone to her ear, almost burning herself in the process.
(To herself)
Shit!
Answering the phone
Yeah?
(Beat)
Nah, Girl. Afraid you’ll have to
fly solo tonight. Got plans
already.
(A few beats)
Wedding. You know I love me a big,
loud, Mexican wedding. They party
almost as hard as us Boriquas.
Booze, Dancing, and the food as hot
and spicy as the men.
(Beat)
Not my stilo. You know this. Why
bring carne asada to a barbecue?
I’m out for fresh meat tonight.
Something new. The catch of the
day.
(Beat)
Late.
Tossing the phone aside, she goes back to the business at
hand.
EXT. RESTAURANT PATIO. LATER THAT DAY.
An open air patio with a stage at one end, double class doors
at the opposite end, and a large stone fountain in the
center. Tables fill the long patio, and a mariachi band
provides lively music for dancing. Seated at one table is
Carmen Collins, her husband; and two children SADIE and
AARON. Sadie is skinny, eleven years old, with shoulder
length brown hair and light eyes. Aaron is a stocky eight
year boy with an inquisitive nature, glasses and dark blonde
hair. They look as if they stepped out of a J. Crew ad. At
the bridal family table is seated Carmen Medina and her twin
daughters. Our over-sexed Carmen Ayala is no where to be
found. The Mariachis have already begun to play, so everyone
is milling about. Some are at the buffet table set up along
one side of the patio;others are at the bar. A massive amount
of steaming Latin cuisine ranging from arroz con pollo, to
tamales, to plantanos, to a desert cake of Tres Leches and
more. Guests are beginning to mix and mingle. We open on
Carmen M. chatting with her daughter.
CARMEN M.
You made me cry, your toast to your
sister, so beautiful. You have such
a way with words.
MARINA
(Jokingly)
Making you cry, not so hard really.
Actually, I expected you to be
falling apart by now.
CARMEN M.
Ay, Marina. Is it such a crime to
love your daughters? You two are
the most important things in my
life. Now that your father has left
with that Puta, my whole life is
only for you two. You better
believe I’ll be a Llorona the day
you get married, too.
MARINA
Just don’t expect me to be into the
whole traditional, church thing. If
I do get married, it’ll be barefoot
on the beach or in a circle of
trees in the forest…
CARMEN M.
If you get married! Don’t say such
crazy things. You’ll give your
mother a heart attack. Of course
you’ll get married one day. You do
want kids.
Marina rolls her eyes, but changes the subject.
MARINA
The food is delicious, Mami. My
Tias and Abuela did such a good
job. I’m going to get more arroz
con pollo and some cake. I love the
way Abuela makes Dulce de Tres
Leches. It’s the bomb! Want
anything?
CARMEN M.
No, Hija. I’m fine. Gracias.
Scans the room nervously
But have you seen Carmen Ayala?
I’ve said “hello” to almost
everyone but her. She was at the
church…
MARINA
No se. Last time I saw her was at
the bar, flirting with the
bartender. She was drinking
Hennessey. Yuk.
Nods towards the bar set up on the opposite wall as the
buffet table.
CARMEN M.
Uh-oh. That girl is too much. No
tiene pena.
MARINA
She’s off the hook, alright. Last
time I saw her she was smoking a
blunt and drinking a 40 outside of
that Salsa and Reggae club I go to.
CARMEN M.
Ay, Mari, no fumaste eso?
MARINA
No, I didn’t smoke any weed. From
the smell, I’d say it was the good
stuff though. But don’t worry, I’m
not a smoker. I don’t need any help
getting hungry– or going to sleep.
Carmen M. is relieved. She smiles and rubs her daughter’s
back.
MARINA (CONT’D)
But I was recently reading on the
hypocrisy of the criminalization of
marijuana in this country. Do you
know many more driving deaths,
family violence, and addiction is
due to alcohol than to weed, but
alcohol is legal in this country
and marijuana is not. As a drug,
marijuana is much safer, for
individuals and society as a whole,
in fact…
CARMEN M.
Ya, Mari. Enough. Sometimes you’re
too smart for your own good.
PAN TO
A table where Carmen C. and husband Carter are seated. Both
children are gone, playing with the other kids.
CARMEN C.
I just have to say “hello” to the
Carmens and we can go soon.
CARTER
Digging into a plate heaped full with food.
I don’t see why you would think
this would be out of the ordinary
for me. I’m Irish, remember? We
party hard, get loud, and drink
till there’s no liquor left. We
party like you Latins do. And we’re
Catholic just like you. I can’t
believe you thought I wouldn’t like
the food. It’s amazing.
CARMEN C.
Yeah, you’re on seconds and going
strong.
CARTER
Loosen up. Have another glass of
wine. Better yet– have a martini,
so I can drag you on the dance
floor.
CARMEN C.
I don’t like this music. But I’m
glad the kids are having fun.
CARTER
Everyone’s having fun. It’s a hell
of a party. I’m surprised you’re
not having more fun. You’re Latin,
didn’t you grow up with this music?
CARMEN C.
I’m Cuban. This is Mexican music. I
grew up listening to salsa and
merengue.
CARTER
Well, I never hear you play any of
that at home either. And why don’t
you ever cook like this for us?
CARMEN C.
Oh yeah, since I have so much time
to cook being a working mother with
two kids, a household to run and a
husband to take care of.
CARTER
Fine. But there’s plenty of food
here. Why don’t you eat some more?
CARMEN C.
I ate. But everything’s loaded with
carbs, and there’s lots of cheese,
and you know I’m cutting carbs and
limiting my dairy right now.
CARTER
Then, for God’s sake, Carm, have
another drink at least. Look at
them, they love the music.
We see Sadie and Aaron dancing around and laughing with some
of the other kids their age.
CUT TO:
INT. RESTAURANT INTERIOR. SAME NIGHT.
Carmen A. and a suave Latin bartender in server’s tux have
slipped into a small banquet room inside the restaurant. The
room is dark and silent, obviously not part of the wedding
reception.
CARMEN A.
I got the green, you got some
papers?
BARTENDER
No, but I do got a pipe. I’m like a
boy scout, Mami, I’m always
prepared.
Pulling out a small, wooden pipe from his pocket.
And some fire…
Materializes a lighter from the other pocket.
CARMEN A.
You mean you don’t have to rub two
sticks together?
BARTENDER
Don’t worry, Sweetheart. There’s
time for a lil’ rubbing too.
CARMEN A.
So, you think you can light my
fire?
BARTENDER
Mami, it’ll be like “Backdraft” up
in here.
CUT TO:
Carmen M. and daughter Marina are seated. Marina is eating a
slice of Tres Leches cake and drinking a glass of champagne,
despite being under the legal age. As with most Mexican
celebrations, exceptions are made on special family occasions
and children 18 and older are allowed to drink–a little.
CARMEN M.
I’ve never seen her so loose. She
usually has a look on her face like
she just got done sucking on a
lemon.
Nods to Carmen C., who, now that a reggae band is playing, is
swinging her hips “Dirty Dancing” style. Having taken her
husband’s advice to have a martini, Carmen C. is feeling the
rhythm and letting go of her usual reserved, polite nature.
Carmen C. puts the empty martini glass on a nearby table and
proceeds to fondle her husband as they dance. He is having a
great time.
CARMEN M. (CONT’D)
You know, I’m worried about the
other Carmen. Adonde Sea? I was
driving her home, I know how she
likes to drink, so I told her I
would give her a ride.
Just then Carmen C. spots Carmen M. and runs over to her
excitedly.
CARMEN C.
(Hugging Carmen M.)
Congratulations, Comadre! You must
be so proud! Your Christina makes a
beautiful bride. And this one
(Nodding to Marina)
So gorgeous, tambien.
Where’s that traviesa, Carmen? I
haven’t seen her all night.
CARMEN M.
No doubt up to no good.
Aaron comes up to his mother and taps her on the arm.
AARON
Mom, something smells really funny
over there.
Points to the doors that lead to the banquet room where
Carmen A. and her loverboy bartender escaped to.
Both Carmens exchange a knowing look.
CARMEN M.
(Sweetly to Carmen C’s
son)
It’s okay Mijo, we’ll check it out.
Carmen M. grabs Carmen A. and they hurry to the rescue of the
missing Carmen.
CUT TO:
INT. RESTAURANT INTERIOR. SAME NIGHT.
The two Carmens burst through the doors to find Carmen A.,
and a still on-duty bartender, kissing and groping through a
cloud of sweet smelling smoke.
CARMEN M.
(To the bartender)
Get the hell out of here before I
have you fired. Vaya!
CARMEN A.
Hey ladies. Helluv a party, huh?
CARMEN C.
What are you trying to do, get
arrested on your friend’s wedding
night?
CARMEN A.
Ain’t nobody getting arrested. I
was just smoking it, not selling.
CARMEN C.
C’mon Loca, let’s go grub. I
haven’t had plantanos con crema y
frijoles in forever. My mom used to
make ‘em all the time. It’s been
way too long.
The three Carmens, newly bonded, head back to the party hand
in hand.
FADE TO BLACK