Donal Logue will be joining Molly Parker and Garret on the set of Oliver Sherman when the film goes into production in October. He has been cast as Franklin Page, Sherman’s old war buddy and Irene’s husband. Now, they’re just looking for a baby to play the Pages’ younger kid.
Below is a snippet from the casting sides for Franklin, just for some backstory. It’s from pages 9 and 10 so it doesn’t spoil any plot points that aren’t mentioned in the synopsis, but if you don’t want to know anything about the characters either, you probably shouldn’t keep reading.
EXT. FRONT PORCH
Franklin and Sherman are seated on the porch steps with beers in hand – they’ve had a few now and Sherman seems to be loosening up, if only a touch.
So how’d you end up around these parts?
Had a hard go of it, that first year out.
(holding up his beer)
Too much of this stuff. Always fleeing from one
town to the next. Guess I thought if I kept moving,
the past couldn’t take aim.
Eventually, I wound up in a mill job around here.
I walk into the office that first day, and man oh man,
there she is. Irene. The first time I saw her I knew
she was the one I wanted to spend everything on — all
the money I’d saved, the experience I’d gained, the love
I’d never been able to give away. So I did.
A wife and kids. Just like we used to talk about.
Franklin glances back into the house to make sure his wife isn’t listening in.
I don’t remember many dreams of domesticity, Sherman.
I remember us sitting around playing poker with girls
on our laps.
Sherman cracks a smile as he remembers fondly.
You’re right, Frank. That’s right. You see any of them
No, I’ve kind of lost touch, actually. You?
Not much. Would see some at the hospital now and then.
The mood turns a bit solemn at the mention of the hospital.
How long were you in there?
Sherman says nothing for a second, then answers in a murmur:
Oh, eleven, twelve months.
Has it really been five years already?
They sit in quiet.
Well, you know, I remember hearing once that everything
takes about five years. A serious illness, a broken heart,
you name it. Anything bad takes about five years to come
to terms with. I don’t know: maybe now, right now,
is your time.
Sherman mulls the notion over, then takes a swig of his beer.
Maybe it is, Frank.