THE DINNER
A short film by Daniel Bensusan
...
1 INT. MANSION DINING ROOM - NIGHT
A palatial, dimly lit dining room. Seven GUESTS sit around a
massive, ornate table. The atmosphere is radiant, weightless,
and filled with a strange, euphoric joy.
At one seat is EZEQUIEL (30s), savoring a spoonful of
exquisite chocolate mousse. He closes his eyes, in heaven.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
I never understood the mystique
behind Russian roulette. One bullet.
Six chambers. A one-in-six chance of
dying.
Why would anyone gamble with their
life like that? Just for the thrill
of surviving? For the adrenaline
rush? For the feeling of total lack
of control?
Ezequiel opens his eyes, looking around the table at the
glowing faces of the other guests.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
They say the closer you are to
dying, the more you feel alive.
Maybe that’s why.
I never understood it… Until I met
Vincent.
My name is Ezequiel, and right now,
I’ve already pulled the trigger. I’m
just waiting to see if the full
weight of my body will end up
sprawled across this dining room
floor. Or if I’ll walk out that
door, light as air, completely
reborn.
Ezequiel takes another bite of his mousse. He looks down at
his plate.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
In the meantime, I’m savoring
dessert. The best chocolate mousse
I’ve ever had in my life. Americans
have this expression for something
so good it defies reason: “To die
for.” I think Vincent took that
literally.
Sorry, you probably have no idea
what I’m talking about. Let me back
up a bit and explain.
There are a few different versions
of how this story begins. I’m going
to tell the one I like the most.
Maybe next time, if I’m still alive,
I’ll share the others.
2 INT. CULINARY UNIVERSITY KITCHEN - DAY (FLASHBACK)
A young VINCENT (20s) works meticulously at a cutting board.
His movements are fluid, artistic.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
Vincent was a promising culinary
student at a university in Eastern
Europe. He had a gift: he could make
the bland unforgettable. Transform
nothing into art. Make food… Well…
To die for. His talent caught the
eye of one of the most powerful men
in the world. A man known simply as
King.
An older, immensely wealthy man --KING-- watches Vincent work,
mesmerized.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
King hired him as his chef and
brought in world-renowned culinary
masters to perfect Vincent and teach
him everything they knew. Over the
years, Vincent became exceptional.
Beyond exceptional. King couldn’t
stop eating. Every second of the
day.
3 INT. KING'S MANSION - DAY (FLASHBACK)
King, now morbidly obese (nearly 1,100 pounds), sits in a
reinforced chair. He greedily consumes a decadent dish.
King suddenly gasps, clutching his chest. He slumps forward,
dead. A dirty silver spoon remains tightly clutched in his
left hand.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
He ballooned to nearly 1,100 pounds
before dying of a massive heart
attack, with a dirty spoon still
clutched in his left hand.
I know. It sounds like a tale. But I
love that story, and I choose to
believe it.
4 INT. VINCENT'S MANSION - DAY (FLASHBACK)
Vincent, now older and refined, stands in a palace-sized
kitchen. He reads a handwritten letter.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
In his will, King left Vincent a
mansion with a palace-sized kitchen,
a fortune that could fund five more
generations, and a letter. In it, he
told Vincent never to charge for his
food. Said it was priceless. That
every dish had brought him more joy
than anything else in life. And then
he wrote, word for word, the
sentence that would bring us all
here today:
Vincent's eyes scan the final lines of the letter.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
“If you ever served me a dish laced
with poison, I’d eat it and die the
happiest man alive.”
Vincent lowers the letter. A tear rolls down his cheek, but a
slow, manic, genius smile spreads across his face.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
Vincent read the letter, smiled, and
cried. The kind of expression only
madmen or geniuses wear. And that’s
when the idea came to him.
That’s how The Dinner was born.
5 INT. MANSION DINING ROOM - NIGHT (PRESENT)
Back to the dinner. The guests are finishing their plates. No
servers are present. The food sits in the center of the
massive table.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
The Dinner is a once-a-month tasting
menu. A gastronomic journey through
every skill and secret Vincent has
mastered. It’s impossible to
describe. It’s the greatest thing
I’ve ever experienced, and I’m not
even done with dessert yet.
Each plate is a burst of joy. Of
hope. Of power. It’s beyond words.
All I know is I’ve never felt so
alive. And I hope that feeling
lasts.
Every month, seven people from
around the world are invited to The
Dinner. They say the waitlist now
spans over two decades.
Ezequiel wipes his mouth with a napkin. He looks totally at
peace.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
One dish, at one random seat, is
seasoned with a lethal poison. It
takes three hours to act. The food
is placed on a massive table. No
servers. No guidance. You choose
your plate. Your fate is in your own
hands. It’s culinary Russian
roulette.
One of us is already dead and
doesn’t know it yet. And even so, no
one looks frightened. No one looks
sad. We’re radiant. Joyful.
Weightless. Everyone here agrees it
was the best experience of their
lives. We are all ready to die for
this experience. And I can say it
without hesitation: It was worth it.
What a dinner. What a chef. What a
glorious madness. Vincent, your
talent is truly to die for. King was
right.
I heard about The Dinner from a
friend who attended the 23rd
edition. He was the one who
convinced me to come. Thank you,
Jerry. You were right about
everything.
VINCENT (40s, elegant, sharp) stands at the head of the
table. He gestures gracefully toward the hallway.
6 INT. MANSION LOUNGE - LATER
The seven guests recline in plush leather chairs, sipping
coffee. Ezequiel takes a sip, raising his eyebrows in sheer
wonder.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
We finish our dessert, and Vincent
invites us to the lounge for coffee.
They say this is when the poison
starts working.
Oddly enough, I wasn’t even thinking
about it. I was sipping my coffee
and wondering: How is this possible?
Even the coffee is divine. The best
I've ever had. What kind of sorcery
is this?
Ezequiel observes the room. He looks at PAUL, a warm, smiling
man, and BELLA, a stunning, brilliant woman deep in
conversation.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
The conversation meandered. We
started opening up, getting
personal. I caught myself thinking:
Paul seems like a really great guy.
I hope it’s not him. Bella… She’s
brilliant, beautiful, fascinating… I
want to know her better. Will I have
the chance? Damn it, Ezequiel. Don’t
get attached.
Ezequiel subtly watches the others. A guest COUGHS deeply.
Ezequiel's stomach clenches, but the guest just clears his
throat and laughs.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
Time passed. Every sudden movement,
every deep cough, made my stomach
clench. But nothing happened. And
still, everyone laughed. Everyone
was alive in a way most people never
get to be. Even Vincent, who had
been quiet the entire evening, was
now warm and animated, joining the
conversation.
Vincent sits among them, warm and animated, sipping his own
coffee.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
Oh, right, I forgot to mention: as a
true host, Vincent dines with his
guests every time. Some say he knows
exactly where the poison is and
avoids it. Others say he’s insane
enough to play the same game we do.
Maybe one day, we’ll find out. The
day he collapses at the table. I
hope that day never comes. Honestly,
I hope he lives forever. The world
deserves to taste his food for as
long as it can.
Suddenly, a heavy CRASH. A body hits the hardwood floor with a
sickening thud.
The guests gasp. Ezequiel whips his head around.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
While I’m lost in that thought,
dreaming of returning here in twenty
years, I hear a crash. A heavy thud.
I turn my head and see a body on the
floor.
Lying lifeless on the floor is GIANNI VOLKOV (48). His coffee
cup lies shattered next to him.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
Mr. Gianni Volkov. He insisted on
being called by his full name. An
obnoxious, arrogant, impolite man.
Forty-eight years old. Lawyer. Heir
to the Volkov empire. I’ll admit it,
I felt a certain relief. I never
liked him. I think nobody did.
Rumor had it his family was behind
some of the most scandalous
government corruption in history.
They bribed judges, laundered cartel
money, and always got away with it.
After his father died, Gianni took
the reins and kept the machine
running.
Everyone knew what he was doing. No
one had a hair's breadth of
evidence. He was one of those people
everybody wanted to catch but
couldn’t.
The guests react with a mix of shock, grief, and undeniable,
silent relief.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
I look around the room. A mix of
emotions. Relief, it wasn’t any of
us. Grief that someone had just
died. All of us shocked. Except
Vincent.
Ezequiel looks away from the body and locks eyes on Vincent.
Vincent is standing slightly off to the side, mostly
unnoticed by the panicking guests. But Ezequiel sees it.
Vincent is SMILING. It is the look of a man who has just
completed a mission.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
He was smiling. Smiling like he
hadn’t all night. He stood slightly
off to the side, unnoticed by the
others. But I saw it. That
expression. The look of a man who
had just completed a mission.
That’s when it hit me. It was never
about chance. Never about luck or
fate. Vincent knew. He chose who
would die.
Of course. It makes perfect sense.
He was King’s confidant. He knew who
the real villains were. He knew who
deserved to go.
Vincent is using food to cleanse the
world. To eliminate the rot. And the
brilliance of it all? No one can
stop him.
The dinner is a secret. Everyone who
comes does so willingly. Families
don’t ask questions later. They were
warned of the risks.
It’s the perfect plan.
Vincent, you are a genius.
7 INT. MANSION FOYER - LATER
The surviving guests are leaving. The mood is somber but
quietly electric.
Vincent stands by the grand double doors, shaking hands with
each guest as they depart into the night.
Ezequiel steps up. He takes Vincent’s hand.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
As we say our goodbyes, Vincent
shakes hands with each guest. When
he reaches me, I look him dead in
the eye. I let him know that I
understand. He smiles, reading my
expression perfectly.
Vincent reads his expression perfectly. A faint, knowing
smile touches Vincent's lips. He places his free hand warmly
on Ezequiel’s shoulder.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
He places a hand on my shoulder and
asks:
VINCENT
Satisfied?
Ezequiel smiles back.
EZEQUIEL (V.O.)
I smile back.
EZEQUIEL
Very. Very satisfied.
Ezequiel turns and walks out the door into the cool night
air, light as a feather.
FADE OUT.