0c2b940512879ba35e6a0512b240ed661119d20b
movie
http://www.imsdb.com/scripts/Darkman.html
DARKMAN Written by
CUT TO BLACK
 Scientist Dr. Peyton Westlake is developing a new type of synthetic skin to help acid-burn victims. He is frustrated with a flaw that causes the skin to rapidly disintegrate after 99 minutes. His girlfriend, attorney Julie Hastings, discovers the Bellasarious Memorandum, an incriminating document proving that corrupt developer Louis Strack has been bribing members of the zoning commission. Before she leaves, Westlake asks her to marry him, but she hesitates. When she confronts Strack, he confesses, but shows Julie what he's been planning: To design a brand new city which would create a substantial number of new jobs. He also warns Julie to keep her guard up as mobster Robert Durant wants the document.
Back at Westlake's lab, Dr. Westlake is conducting an experiment when the lights go out. Dr. Westlake and his assistant, Yakatito are astounded to find the synthetic skin is stable after 100 minutes. Westlake deduces that the synthetic skin is photosensitive. Their joy is short lived, as Durant and his henchmen show up and demand the Bellasarious Memorandum which Westlake knows nothing about. While searching for the document, Durant and his gang kill Yakatito. The gang then proceed to beat Westlake, burn his hands on a piece of machinery and dip his face in acid, disfiguring him. After they find the document, they rig the lab to explode, with Julie watching the explosion. The blast throws Westlake through the roof and into the river. Thought to be dead by Julie, who attends his funeral, he survives but is hideously burned. He is brought to a hospital and subjected to a radical treatment which cuts the nerves of the spinothalamic tract, so physical pain is no longer felt. However, he also loses his tactile sensation. Removing this sensory input gives him enhanced strength due to adrenal overload and keeps his injuries from incapacitating him, but it also mentally destabilizes him.
After mourning the loss of his lab and realizing how badly burnt he has become, Westlake re-establishes the lab in a condemned building, using digitization to create a mask of his original face. The process is long, and in the meantime, Westlake plots revenge against Durant and his men. He kills Durant's favorite henchman Rick, but not before forcing the latter to reveal the identities of those involved, along with their criminal activities. Westlake then studies his enemies in order to subdue and impersonate them. When his face mask is complete, Westlake manages to convince Julie that he is indeed alive, and that he was in a coma rather than dead. He is aware of Julie seeing Strack after his supposed death, and eventually confronts her, to which she responds that Strack only comforted her. Westlake does not tell Julie about his condition, but asks her various questions on whether or not she would accept him, regardless of his appearance. Westlake now has a full clock schedule: Making the skin last longer than 99 minutes, visiting Julie, studying his enemies and even mimicking their voice patterns. His next excursion has him impersonating Durant himself, causing confusion among the mobster and his henchmen.
The next time Westlake and Julie have a date at the carnival, an altercation causes Westlake to lose his temper and inadvertently reveals to Julie that there is indeed something wrong with him. She follows him as he flees (his 99 minutes were up,) and when she discovers that he was using masks to hide his true face, she calls out to Peyton that she still loves him regardless. Julie later tells Strack that she can no longer see him, and after discovering the Bellasarious Memorandum on his desk while he was on the phone, she confirms that Strack was collaborating with Durant the entire time. She tells him that Westlake is still alive, but Strack tells her that as long as he has the memorandum, no charges can be filed. When Julie leaves, Durant enters and is told by Strack to capture Julie and kill Westlake.
Westlake eventually succeeds in killing Durant and all of his henchmen (except for the one with the wooden gun leg whose fate is unknown). Westlake impersonates Durant one final time when he meets up with Strack and a captive Julie as Strack plans to make the city "one less attorney." Westlake's ruse is broken by Strack who fights him on an unfinished building floor 650 feet from the ground upon Strack unmasking him. When Westlake gets the upper hand, Strack calls his bluff by saying that killing him would not be something he could live with. Westlake then drops Strack to his death saying to himself: "I'm learning to live with a lot of things." Julie tries to convince Westlake that he can still return to his old life, but Westlake tells her he has changed on the inside as well as out, and can not subject anyone to his new vicious nature. In the final scene, he runs away from Julie as they exit an elevator, and is seen from behind pulling on a mask which, when he turns around, reveals the face of Bruce Campbell. During this scene, Westlake can be heard off-screen: "I am everyone and no one. Everywhere. Nowhere. Call me... Darkman."
Scientist Dr. Peyton Westlake is developing a new type of synthetic skin to help acid-burn victims . He is frustrated with a flaw that causes the skin to rapidly disintegrate after 99 minutes . His girlfriend , attorney Julie Hastings , discovers the Bellasarious Memorandum , an incriminating document proving that corrupt developer Louis Strack has been bribing members of the zoning commission . Before she leaves , Westlake asks her to marry him , but she hesitates . When she confronts Strack , he confesses , but shows Julie what he s been planning : To design a brand new city which would create a substantial number of new jobs . He also warns Julie to keep her guard up as mobster Robert Durant wants the document . Back at Westlake s lab , Dr. Westlake is conducting an experiment when the lights go out . Dr. Westlake and his assistant , Yakatito are astounded to find the synthetic skin is stable after 100 minutes . Westlake deduces that the synthetic skin is photosensitive . Their joy is short lived , as Durant and his henchmen show up and demand the Bellasarious Memorandum which Westlake knows nothing about . While searching for the document , Durant and his gang kill Yakatito . The gang then proceed to beat Westlake , burn his hands on a piece of machinery and dip his face in acid , disfiguring him . After they find the document , they rig the lab to explode , with Julie watching the explosion . The blast throws Westlake through the roof and into the river . Thought to be dead by Julie , who attends his funeral , he survives but is hideously burned . He is brought to a hospital and subjected to a radical treatment which cuts the nerves of the spinothalamic tract , so physical pain is no longer felt . However , he also loses his tactile sensation . Removing this sensory input gives him enhanced strength due to adrenal overload and keeps his injuries from incapacitating him , but it also mentally destabilizes him . After mourning the loss of his lab and realizing how badly burnt he has become , Westlake re-establishes the lab in a condemned building , using digitization to create a mask of his original face . The process is long , and in the meantime , Westlake plots revenge against Durant and his men . He kills Durant s favorite henchman Rick , but not before forcing the latter to reveal the identities of those involved , along with their criminal activities . Westlake then studies his enemies in order to subdue and impersonate them . When his face mask is complete , Westlake manages to convince Julie that he is indeed alive , and that he was in a coma rather than dead . He is aware of Julie seeing Strack after his supposed death , and eventually confronts her , to which she responds that Strack only comforted her . Westlake does not tell Julie about his condition , but asks her various questions on whether or not she would accept him , regardless of his appearance . Westlake now has a full clock schedule : Making the skin last longer than 99 minutes , visiting Julie , studying his enemies and even mimicking their voice patterns . His next excursion has him impersonating Durant himself , causing confusion among the mobster and his henchmen . The next time Westlake and Julie have a date at the carnival , an altercation causes Westlake to lose his temper and inadvertently reveals to Julie that there is indeed something wrong with him . She follows him as he flees ( his 99 minutes were up , ) and when she discovers that he was using masks to hide his true face , she calls out to Peyton that she still loves him regardless . Julie later tells Strack that she can no longer see him , and after discovering the Bellasarious Memorandum on his desk while he was on the phone , she confirms that Strack was collaborating with Durant the entire time . She tells him that Westlake is still alive , but Strack tells her that as long as he has the memorandum , no charges can be filed . When Julie leaves , Durant enters and is told by Strack to capture Julie and kill Westlake . Westlake eventually succeeds in killing Durant and all of his henchmen ( except for the one with the wooden gun leg whose fate is unknown ) . Westlake impersonates Durant one final time when he meets up with Strack and a captive Julie as Strack plans to make the city one less attorney . Westlake s ruse is broken by Strack who fights him on an unfinished building floor 650 feet from the ground upon Strack unmasking him . When Westlake gets the upper hand , Strack calls his bluff by saying that killing him would not be something he could live with . Westlake then drops Strack to his death saying to himself : I m learning to live with a lot of things . Julie tries to convince Westlake that he can still return to his old life , but Westlake tells her he has changed on the inside as well as out , and can not subject anyone to his new vicious nature . In the final scene , he runs away from Julie as they exit an elevator , and is seen from behind pulling on a mask which , when he turns around , reveals the face of Bruce Campbell . During this scene , Westlake can be heard off-screen : I am everyone and no one . Everywhere . Nowhere . Call me ... Darkman .
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Darkman
Darkman
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<pre>


<b> 
</b><b>                                      DARKMAN
</b>

                                     Written by

          Joshua & Daniel Goldin, Sam & Ivan Raimi and Chuck Pfarrer




                                                           February 1989

<b>                         
</b>


<b>          INT. PIER BUILDING - DAY
</b>

<b>          BANG!!
</b>          A shock chord as we cut from black to a harshly toplit

<b>                         CLOSE SHOT:
</b>          A man is talking into a cellular phone. He is a paunchy
          but powerful looking black man, bald with a gray fringe.
          His baldness makes his head look muscular; he is a tough
          man whose life has been shaped by the violence of the docks.
          His name is EDDIE BLACK.
          In the distance a foghorn moans.
          We are pulling back.

<b>                         BLACK
</b>          Yeah. .'Cause he's an asshole. Tell
          him no... Tell him no too... Him, tell
          fuck you... Yeah... Uh huh...
          The continuing pull back shows that we are inside a huge
          empty pier building. Black is leaning against the roof of
          his car, which is parked in the middle of the vast empty
          space.
          The room is lit by bare bulbs, its farthest reaches
          falling into darkness.

<b>                         BLACK
</b>          No, I'll be a few minutes here. Guy
          comin' up, thinks he's gonna muscle me
          outs my property... Does it matter?
          Just another tough guy...Yeah, okay...
          Another hard-looking man is approaching.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          2.
</b>
<b>                         1 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         MAN
</b>          They're drivin' up.
          Black nods.

<b>                         BLACK
</b>          Get their pieces. We got a surprise
          for those fuckers.

<b>                         2
</b>
<b>          2 EXT WHARF - DAY
</b>          We are tracking towards a chain link fence which is
          swinging open to admit two midnight blue Lincoln
          Continentals.
          The cars stop in the foreground and eight men get out,
          eerily backlit in the mist of the riverfront.

<b>                         3
</b>
<b>          3 SLOW TRACKING - ROBERT G. DURANT
</b>          is a well-dressed and immaculately groomed man of forty.

<b>                         4
</b>
<b>          4 SLOW TRACKING - RUDY GUZMAN
</b>          wears a powder blue, polyester leisure suit. His nose has
          been broken several times from his years in the Mexican
          boxing league. He was almost a contender.

<b>                         5
</b>
<b>          5 SLOW TRACKING - SKIP NATICK
</b>          walks with a pronounced limp.

<b>                         6
</b>
<b>          6 SLOW TRACKING - TRUMAYNE JOHNSON MC SAM
</b>          is a large black man with a quiet, studied cool.

<b>                         7
</b>
<b>          7 SLOW TRACKING - RICK
</b>          is a wiry twenty-year old who looks about in short, jerky
          motions. He huddles in behind the others. He is
          stylishly dressed, with slicked back, black hair. His
          protruding Adams apple bobs as he swallows.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          3.
</b>
<b>          B SLOW TRACKING - SMILEY 8
</b>          wears a permanent psychotic smile.

<b>          9 SLOW TRACKING - PAULY 9
</b>          is middle-aged and balding. His spare tire hangs over the
          edge of his suit pants. He subdues a belch. He raises a
          bottle of Maalox and slugs down fifty cents worth. A ring
          of white chalky fluid coats his lips.

<b>          10 SLOW TRACKING - CORKY CORCORAN 10
</b>          has a thatch of blond hair, he spits out tobacco juice
          between his wide spaced front teeth.
          11 They are approached by a group of fifteen dock workers, 11
          Black's men, with massive shoulders and grain-sack bellies.
          Looks like they just got off their shift and now they're
          ready to kick some ass.

<b>                         DOCK WORKER
</b>          Okay, against the car, ladies. You're
          c gonna stand for a search.
          12 The eight visitors assume the position, placing their 12
          hands on the roof of their car. The dock workers pat them
          down and haul off iron -- lots of it.

<b>                         DOCK WORKER #2
</b>          Bunch a cuties.

<b>                         DOCK WORKER #3
</b>          Put skirts on 'em, I'd marry one.
          From the other Dock Workers, hearty male laughter. The
          visitors bare up in silence.

<b>          13 INT PIER BUILDING -- NIGHT 13
</b>          As the visitors are led in, into the beams of the car
          headlights, escorted by the dock workers. The Dock
          Workers take up positions around Durant and his men.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          4.
</b>
<b>                         14
</b>
<b>                         14 BLACK
</b>          stands waiting for them. He eyes Skip, the limper.

<b>                         BLACK
</b>          Bum leg?

<b>                         SKIP
</b>          No leg.

<b>                         BLACK
</b>
<b>                         (CONVERSATIONALLY)
</b>          I was engaged to a girl with a wooden
          leg once.
          Skip brightens.

<b>                         SKIP
</b>
<b>                         (INTERESTED)
</b>          Yeah? What happened?

<b>                         BLACK
</b>           I hadda break it off.

<b>                          15
</b>          15 The dock workers laugh. Black indulges his wens'
          laughter, then cuts

<b>                         BLACK
</b>          okay, let's cut the crap here.
          Durant, I got just three things to say
          to you. One
          He holds up a chubby finger.

<b>                         BLACK
</b>          I ain't selling my property.
          He flashes a second finger.

<b>                         BLACK
</b>          Two. Nobody muscles Eddie Black
          Especially a bunch of fucks.
          He flashes a third finger.

<b>                         BLACK
</b>
<b>                         PPY
</b>          Number three, if you guys is unha
          with that, which I can already
          is, then we can cutcha balls of f
          if that'll be more satisfactory.

<b>                         Â¢
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          6.
</b>
<b>                         19
</b>
<b>                         19 CONTINUED
</b>          The last shot echoes away to leave silence -- except for
          the arhythmic echoing scuffle of Skip's one shoe, as he
          continues to hop in place for balance.
          Smiley, after a watchful pause to make sure everyone is
          dead, sticks out his left arm at waist level.
          Skip grabs the arm for support, stops hopping, and there
          is now...total silence.

<b>          ROBERT G. DURANT
</b>          the elegantly suited leader, takes out a cigar and a
          gold-plated cigar trimmer. SNIP--he trims the and of
          the cigar, and sticks it in his mouth.
          As he walks towards the dumbly apprehensive Black:

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Now let's consider my points, one by
          one...

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          puts a full nelson on Black. Trumayne, grabs Black's
          right hand and holds it out, fingers splayed, towards
          Durant.

<b>                          DURANT
</b>          One...
           He slips one of Black's fingers into his cigar trimmer.

<b>                          DURANT
</b>          .1 try not to let my anger get the
          better of me.
          SNIP! Black screams. As Durant goes for another finger:

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          ...Two: I don't always succeed.
          SNIP! Black screams. Reaching for another finger:

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          ...Three: I've got seven more points.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          7.
</b>
<b>                         20
</b>
<b>          2 0 EXT WHARF - DAY - LONG SHOT
</b>           Looking down on the lonely waterfront building, we hear
           Black's screams.

<b>                          CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                          21 -
</b>
<b>          21 INT WESTLAKE LAB - DAY - AN ENORMOUS EYE
</b>          Making jerky little movements this way and that.

<b>          EYE'S POV: AN ENORMOUS NOSE
</b>          We pull focus through the nose, then back to sharp focus
          again. The nose fills the screen, every pore a cavern,
          every blemish a mountain.

<b>                         EYE
</b>          Blinking.

<b>                         NOSE
</b>          The nostrils flare slightly.

<b>                         EYE
</b>          Looking.

<b>                         NOSE
</b>          Still. Suddenly it is hit by a flash of light as -- B-
          DEEEE -- we hear the automatic wind of a camera and its
          strobe recharging.
          B-DEEEEE! B-DEEEE! We get rapid-fire left and right
          nose profiles.

<b>                         22
</b>
<b>                         22 WIDER
</b>           We are in a lab. DR. PEYTON WESTLAKE, an earnest
           scientist in his early thirties, is straightening up from
           behind a futuristic looking, tripod-mounted camera. He front the camera and instantly
           hits a button nt of ut.
           thenfro eof o

<b>                          THREE PRINTS
</b>
<b>                          CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          S.
</b>
<b>                         22 CONTINUED 22
</b>          The nose belongs to YAKITITO YANAGITA a Japanese graduate'
          student wearing a lab smock and glasses with thick, coke
          bottle lenses.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Now, if everything goes according to
          plan, in a couple of months your nose
          will be on the lips of every
          American...
          He is feeding the prints into the input slot of a
          computer.

<b>          22P ON THE COMPUTER SCREEN: 22P
</b>          The nose is broken down into thousands of points. As each
          point of the nose is removed from the screen, a number is
          assigned.

<b>                         23 PEYTON 23
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          We've finally got the Imager working
          how we want it.
          24 We pan to the Holographic Imaging Cylinder. The glass 24
          cylinder, wired to the computer, glows to life.
          24P A three dimensional holographic image of Yakatito's nose 24P
          rotates within.
          25 Peyton glances from the Imager to the computer. He types 25
          on the computer keyboard.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Bio-press checks out okay...
          He glances to...

<b>                         26 THE BIO-PRESS 26
</b>          As it hums to life. It is a box containing linear rows of
          densely packed pins. Tiny servo-motors beneath the pins
          allow each pin to rise or fall individually, per computer
          command. A smooth synthetic substance is being sprayed
          evenly atop the surface of the pins. The sprays halts; the
          wet substance glistens. The densely packed pins rise to
          programmed heights, molding the solidifying synthetic
          substance into an exact replica of Yakatito's nose.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          9.
</b>
<b>                         27
</b>
<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>
<b>                         27
</b>          No more bunching. Looks perfect.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          I don't know about perfect, but it
          looks like your nose. Down to the
          millimole... No, the bio-press won't
          be a problem. It's the synthetic

<b>                         WOULD
</b>          skin's instability. If the

<b>                          A SKINU
</b>          just hold up -- Y give me
          victim and a photograph of his old
          face -- he'll get more than a nose.
          We're talking complete reconstruction

<b>                         MAYBE EVEN
</b>          damaged skin tissue.
          make him better looking. Hey, what's
          the time?

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          fumbles for the stopwatch that hangs around his neck.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          Ninety-eight minute and change.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Let's check in our friends.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          moves to a microscope.

<b>                         27P
</b>
<b>          27P MICROSCOPE P.O.V.
</b>          Cells swimming in an agar-protoplasm bath.

<b>                         28
</b>
<b>                         28 PEYTON
</b>
<b>                         GLANCES TO:
</b>
<b>                         29
</b>
<b>          29 A COMPUTER MONITOR
</b>          that is connected to the microscope.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          (REVISED SCENE #'S 2-17-89)
</b>
<b>          10.
</b>
<b>          V28" THE COMPUTER SCREEN READS: V28
</b>          Amino acid content - 64.0%
          Membrane potential - 120 millivolts
          DNA content - 00.000047 millimoles
          Collagen congeners - 22.8%
          29 Peyton punches in some data, and... 29

<b>          V29. THE IMAGE ON THE COMPUTER SCREEN SPLITS. V29
</b>          on the left half, a rotating, three dimensional, computer
          generated image of a protein molecule. Beneath it, the

<b>                         WORD:
</b>
<b>                         EPIDERMIS
</b>          On the right half of the screen, another image forms. It
          is a second molecule. Beneath it, the words:

<b>                         SYNTHETIC EPIDERMIS
</b>
<b>                         STRUCTURAL MATCH
</b>          The molecules rotate in synchronization. A loud beeping
          tone. Suddenly, the synthetic molecule begins to waver
          and spin randomly.

<b>                         30
</b>
<b>                         30 PEYTON
</b>          Oh no...

<b>          31 VIEW THROUGH MICROSCOPE 31
</b>          The unstable cells fragment.

<b>          32 INT WESTLAKE LAB 32
</b>          Peyton shoves himself away from the microscope.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Fragmentation. Time?
          Yakitito checks his stopwatch.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          Ninety-nine minute. Again.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          11.
</b>
<b>                         32
</b>
<b>                         32 CONTINUED
</b>          He stares dumbly at the stopwatch, frozen. He repeats,

<b>                         SADLY:
</b>
<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          ..Ninety-nine minute. Cells always
          break up at a ninety-nine minute.
          He punches away at a keyboard and takes the readout.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Electrolytes, temp and glucose
          concentration. all normal.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          But still this ninety nine minute.
          Yakitito makes a notation of the time on a lab sheet.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Pacing, thinking;

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Why? What is destabilizing it?
          Vivification process was cake. Tissue
          rejection? We licked
          that. We're close. We're smart guys.
          So why can't we make these cells
          stable? Hokay. Let's try a
          ten percent alkalinity. Get those
          suckers too drunk to fragment.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          posts the completed lab sheet on a wall covered with hundreds
          of similar sheets.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          We already try ten.
          He pokes at a section of lab sheets.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          And twenty. And twenty-two... We try
          all phase of alkalinity.
          He punches the wall. CONTINUED

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          12.
</b>
<b>                         32
</b>
<b>                         32 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          But still a ninety-nine minute! Three
          month ago, ninety nine minute. Ten
          month ago... ninety nine minute...
          BAM BAM... Yakitito punches the wall again and again.
          Peyton calmly taps a plastic dunking bird that slowly
          bobs.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          A word of advice, Yakitito. Don't get
          emotionally involved. Watch.
          Analyze. Remain object ---

<b>          BAM!
</b>          He is cut off as Yakitito punches the wall again and
          again to punctuate his speech.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          Maybe I am lousy scientist.

<b>                         MAYBEOI
</b>          listen to father, get
          in Anaheim! Get drunk on Sake nightly,
          forget I am failure!

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Quick, Yakitito.
          A basketball appears in Peyton's hands. He tosses it to

<b>          CAMERA.
</b>
<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          Catches the ball.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          The most striking characteristic of
          thermionic emission.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          Throws the ball away.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>
<b>                         KE
</b>          No, always you ask me question to ma
          me calm down! I no want to calm down!

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         32 CONTINUED(3)
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          catches the ball, dribbles and throws it back to Yakitito.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          The answer, Yakitito.

<b>                         YAXITITO
</b>          snags the ball angrily from the air.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>
<b>                         (FURIOUS)
</b>          It is most strongly depending on
          temperature!
          He throws it at Peyton, who grabs it, and pump-fakes
          Yakitito, not letting him have the ball.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Go on!
          Again he pump-fakes. Yakitito flinches.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          This means the temperature of the
          emitter is not critical as long as it
          is sufficiently high and as
          long as pure metals with high
          operating temperatures such as
          tungsten or tantalum are used.
          Peyton tosses him the ball. Yakitito catches it. Calm
          now. He blinks.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          Amazing. It work every time.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         33
</b>
<b>          33 INT. HUNT CLUB LOBBY- DAY
</b>
          LOUIS STRACK SR., a no-nonsense octogenarian, and his
          son, LOUIS STRACK JR., a powerfully built, debonair fifty,
          stride into the lobby. They are accompanied by a couple
          of aides.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          14.
</b>
<b>                         33
</b>
<b>                         33 CONTINUED
</b>          JULIE HASTINGS, a young attractive woman who has
          apparently been awaiting their arrival rises from a chair
          and crosses the lobby to greet them. She is dressed in a
          conservative business suit and carries a briefcase.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Mr. Strack, my name is Julie Hastings.
          I'm here from Pappas and Swain to
          represent you in the Von Hoffenstein
          negotiation.

<b>          STRACK JR.
</b>          How do you do? And please, call me
          Louis. This is my father who--
          Strack Sr. interrupts his son's introduction.

<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>          I don't want some fancy-ass woman to
          do my negotiating. Where's Herb
          Gorson?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Gorson's tied up in litigation this
          week. Don't worry--I've done my
          homework.

<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>          scowls, ungraciously accepting her.

<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>
<b>                         (TO JULIE)
</b>          I'll stop worrying when you get Von
          Balibreaker's price down to sixty
          million...
          He turns and starts striding down the hallway, the
          others following.

<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>          .If he goes that low, lock him up.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          15.
</b>
<b>                         34
</b>
<b>          34 INT HUNT CLUB PRIVATE DINING. ROOM - DAY
</b>          The Stracks and Julie are seated at a table next to a large
          picture window that looks out on the bridle path. Jodhpured
          equestrians gallop past in the distance.
          Seated across from them are Baron Hugo Von Hoffenstein, a
          bald, hook-nosed Austrian aristocrat with a patrician air
          and cold beady eyes. He is accompanied by his attorney
          Myron Katz.
          Liveried waiters are just clearing the table and serving
          coffee.

<b>                         KATZ
</b>          We want to be reasonable here. We
          said we were interested in selling the
          pier frontage and we are interested in
          selling. But frankly Mr. Von
          .will not be robbed.
          Seventy-five strikes us as a fair
          price for this parcel. We're ready to
          conclude a deal here and now at that
          price.

<b>                         PLEASANTLY:
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Then I guess we're only missing one
          element here.

<b>                         KATZ
</b>          What's that?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          An interested party.
          Strack Jr. tries to suppress a smile.
          Waiters bring in the wine and pour a tasting portion for
          Von Hoffenstein, silent, coldly watchful.
          He rolls the wine in his glass, eyes appraising Julie.
          He takes a sip, cocks his head, nods.
          Wine is poured around.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          .Mr. Katz, I've found that in the
          real estate business, three factors
          determine a property's worth. CONTINUED

<b>                         -A
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          16.
</b>
<b>                         34
</b>
<b>                         34 CONTINUED
</b>          Katz leans forward, listening.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          ...Location. Location. And...
          location. Frankly, you have none of
          the above. Your fair price is fair
          for midtown commercial, not for
          riverfront.

<b>                         KATZ
</b>          It's worth more to your client, given
          his plans for the area.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          if my client can spin straw into gold,
          he'll still pay market price for
          straw. As a matter of fact--

<b>                         VON HOFFENSTEEN
</b>          --Business is business. Deals vill
          come and go, but ze velt vill pause
          for a beautiful voman...and a fine
          wine.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Our offer stands at forty-eight.

<b>                         VON HOFFENSTIEN
</b>          Smiles a worldly smile.

<b>                         VON HOFFINSTIEN
</b>          Let us toast a zale at ze price of
          zixty millions.
          Strack Sr. smiles. He starts to raise his glass,
          preparing to toast.

<b>          CAMERA DIPS INCREDIBLY FAST
</b>          beneath the table to reveal Julie's high heel as it digs
          into Strack Sr's toe to silence him.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          To Von Hoffenstein: CONTINUED

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          17.
</b>
<b>                         34
</b>
<b>                         34 CONTINUED(2)
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          You're moving in the right direction,
          but our offer stands firm. i believe
          if anyone had

<b>                         BE
</b>          offered you more than us, you'd
          sharing this wine with them.
          She sips the wine and then, frowning, turns to the wine
          steward.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          .There's been a mistake. We ordered
          a bottle of '67 Beaujolais Maison
          Reme. Is that not correct?

<b>                         STEWARD
</b>          Oui madame. '67 Beaujolais Maison
          Reme. Is what I have serve.
          Julie pleasantly but firmly corrects him.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          No. You have served us a 1981 or
          1982. California Beaujolais.

<b>                          YOU'RE
</b>          Pleasant, but hardly worth
          charging...
          Strack Sr., frowning, examines the wine. It's news to him.

<b>                         STEWARD
</b>          Please, Madame! I serve the Reme!

<b>                         IRRITATED:
</b>
<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>          Mine tastes okay.

<b>                         KATZ
</b>          Ms. Hastings, please. The wine is
          fine. You're way out of your league
          here. I'm sure the wine steward--

<b>                         VON HOFFENSTEIN
</b>
<b>                         PEELS
</b>
<b>                         FROM
</b>          plucks the CALIFORNIA

<b>                         BACK THE
</b>
<b>          SAN MEDUSO 1982.
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>          18.
</b>
<b>                         34
</b>
<b>                         34 CONTINUED(3)
</b>          The wine steward whispers sharply in French to the
          waiter, then turns back to the table.

<b>                         STEWARD
</b>          Please forgive us. We bring the bel
          Reme.at once. Gratis.
          Julie addresses the baron.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          At any rate, our offer stands at
          forty-eight...
          As she rises:

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          .And if we can't toast, we prefer
          not to drink. These gentlemen and I
          have other business to attend to, so
          if you'll excuse us...
          Strack Sr. rises, angrily. He turns to leave with her,
          murmuring under his breath:

<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>          I told you to make this deal.
          Von Hoffenstein calls after them his wine glass held

<b>                         HIGH:
</b>
<b>                         VON HOFFENSTEIN
</b>          Permit me, madame! Too fine a vine
          not to use for a toast!

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         35
</b>
<b>          35 EXT. HUNT CLUB LOBBY - DAY
</b>
          As Julie and the Stracks are leaving, Julie. accidentally
          brushes against the Steward and exchanges a few words.
          Strack Jr. had been watching. He approaches the steward.

<b>          STRACK JR.
</b>          How much did she pay you?

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          19.
</b>
<b>                         35
</b>
<b>                         35 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         STEWARD
</b>
<b>                         (OUTRAGED)
</b>          Monsieur, I don't know what you are
          talking about!

<b>          STRACK JR.
</b>          For that little trick with the labels.
          He takes the stewards fist in his and unfurls the
          steward's fingers. Revealing--A HUNDRED DOLLAR BILL.
          Strack Jr. turns to Julie's retreating figure and
          smiles.

<b>                          CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                          36
</b>
<b>          36 INT WESTLAKE LAB - DAY - A GLASS BEAKER
</b>          filled with clear fluid. Above it is another beaker
          filled with a brown crystalline substance. Above that is
          an empty beaker.

<b>          WHOOOSH!
</b>          The fluid disappears from the bottom beaker and instantly
          reconstitutes in the top beaker as a steaming brown
          fluid.

<b>                         37
</b>          37 A pre-measured amount flows down coiled tubing into a
          coffee mug; a hand enters to add a dollop of half-and-
          half...Peyton's hand... He raises the mug of coffee to his
          lips.
          He looks down into his microscope.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          .Time, Yakitito.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          Ninety eight minute.
          A light goes out, leaving the lab in darkness except for
          the glow from the computer screen.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          .Is a bulb. I get a fresh.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          20.
</b>
<b>                         37 CONTINUED
</b>          As he rummages in a drawer:

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          So, did you ask her?

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Tonight.
          Out of habit, Peyton glances back to the microscope.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          This is unbelievable! You been saying
          tonight for weeks and still you don't
          ask her! Maybe I ask to marry you.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Your father would never approve of me.
          Yakitito stares at him in puzzlement. Then:

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          216, no, I ask he if gbg marry you. I
          Peyton looks through the microscope;

<b>                         38
</b>
<b>                         38 MICROSCOPE POV
</b>           The cells still pulsate with life.

<b>                          39
</b>
<b>                         39 PEYTON
</b>
<b>                          CRIES OUT;
</b>
<b>                          PEYTON
</b>          Time, Yakitito!

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          Huh?! One hundred minute!
          Peyton grips at the table with excitement.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          The cells are holding, Yakitito.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         CONTINUED'
</b>
<b>          22.
</b>
<b>                         41
</b>
<b>                         41 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>
<b>                         (SMILING)
</b>          Okay, Yakitito, you made your
          point...Yakitito--
          Yakitito is out of control.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          Dr. Westlake punch the wall! Dr.
          Westlake punch the wall!

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>
<b>                         (CONCERNED)
</b>          Quickly .The function of sinusoidal
          currents in electrogenesis?
          The basketball appears in Yakitito's hands.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>           You Punch You answer the
           quesiton.
           flinches,
          to c ch t winds back to toss u B e i ball pump -faked
          to cat ch t he ball. t ever comes-- Yakitito

<b>                          T N
</b>
<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          23.
</b>
<b>          42 INT. LIMOUSINE - DAY 42
</b>
          Trolling through the city. In the back Strack Sr. and
          Strack Jr., both reading financial papers. We hold on the
          two men for a long time. Their utter stillness and silence
          grows unsettling. Finally:

<b>          STRACK JR.
</b>          Gold Kugerands are looking attractive.
          Another long pause.

<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>          Are those the ones with the chocolate
          centers?
          Another pause.

<b>          STRACK JR.
</b>
<b>                         (DRILY)
</b>          Gold currency, father, as you know.
          And yet another pause.

<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>          Krugerrands. Sounds like a frog trying
          to burp. Strack Industries will stick
          with real estate. You remember that.

<b>                         43 THE LIMO 43
</b>          suddenly glides into a rundown Texaco station.

<b>          44 INT LIMOUSINE - TEXACO STATION - DAY 44
</b>
<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>          What the hell!

<b>                         DRIVER
</b>          We have a flat, sir. I'm sorry.

<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>          You should be. This'll come out of
          your wages.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          24.
</b>
<b>                         45
</b>
<b>          45 EXT. LIMOUSINE
</b>
          The driver gets out and stoops to examine the tire.

<b>                         THE TIRE
</b>          is'NOT flat.

<b>                         THE DRIVER
</b>          discretely removes a straight-razor from his coat pocket
          and approaches the tire.

<b>                         46
</b>
<b>          46 INT. LIMOUSINE
</b>
          After a pause, Strack Sr. rises heavily to his feet.

<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>          Time I took a leak anyway. Damn
          prostate. There's only one thing I
          gotta do myself and I gotta do it
          twenty times a day.
          Strack Sr. exits the car.

<b>                         47
</b>
<b>          47 EXT. LIMOUSINE
</b>
          Strack Sr. bends to examine the tire.

<b>                         THE TIRE
</b>          is now deflated.

<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>          ments room. CAMERA MOVES

<b>                         RUN-DOWN
</b>          scowls, and heads ltoward Taaf him r eveal

<b>          QUICKLY AWAY AND
</b>          Coming toward him, about twenty feet away:

<b>          A WELL-DRESSED MAN WITH A NEWSPAPER
</b>          walking hurriedly, head bowed to the wind. CAMERA MOVES

<b>          BACK TO...
</b>
<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          25.
</b>
<b>                         47 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>          who hobbles directly toward the man. CAMERA SWISHES in
          front of Strack Sr. to again reveal.

<b>                         THE MAN
</b>          Closer now. A one-quarter-view of the man's downturned face.
          he looks up--revealing DURANT! A terrible malevolent
          grin as he lifts his newspaper. We make out the muzzle of a
          silencer. CAMERA SWISHES TO.

<b>          CLOSE SHOT OF STRACK SR.
</b>          A muffled POP as he jerks backward, clutching his chest.

<b>                         HIGH ANGLE
</b>          The two men pass.

<b>          48 INT. LIMOUSINE 48
</b>
          Strack Jr. glances out the window.

<b>          49 EXT LIMOUSINE - HIS POV 49
</b>          Strack Sr. crumbling to the ground atop a black cable.
          A bell sounds continuously within the service station.

<b>          DING! DING! DING! DING!
</b>
<b>          STRACK JR.
</b>          Father?

<b>          STRACK JR.
</b>          races out of the car and rushes over to his father.

<b>          STRACK JR.
</b>          Father!

<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>          lies motionless on his stomach. Strack Jr. turns him over,
          revealing that Strack Sr.'s chest is flooded in BLOOD.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         2-17-1989)
</b>          (Revised Scene Numbers

<b>          26.
</b>
<b>                         49
</b>
<b>                         49 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>          A SCREECHING SOUND
</b>          as a midnight blue Lincoln Continental races away from the
          scene.

<b>          STRACK JR.
</b>          lifts his father. Emotion etched on every line of his
          face, he cradles the old corpse in his arms, lifting him
          off the black cable, and the ringing sound is finally
          silenced.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         50
</b>
<b>          50 EXT. STREET WESTLAKE LAB - NIGHT
</b>
          A cab pulls up in front of an industrial building. Julie
          gets out and goes through the front door.

<b>                         51
</b>
<b>          51 INT. WESTLAKE LAB BUILDING - NIGHT
</b>

<b>                         DARKNESS
</b>          Julie ascending a flight of shadowy stairs. The steps
          creak as she climbs them. We hear the eerie drip, drip,
          dripping of a water pipe.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>           is uneasy. She halts halfway up the stairs to listen. We
          hear only the scurry of
          cautiously.

<b>          THE LAB DOOR
</b>          Julie reaches the landing and knocks... causing the door to
          open with a CREAK...

<b>                         52
</b>
<b>          52 INT WESTLAKE LAB - NIGHT
</b>          ...Julie moves tentatively through the lab, increasingly
          frightened, sensing the presence of another person.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton?

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         CONTINUED 'Â¢
</b>
<b>          27.
</b>
<b>                         52 CONTINUED 52
</b>          No answer. As she starts to back towards the door she
          brushes against a table. Something rolls and SHATTERS on
          the floor ...a test-tube.

<b>          A BEAM OF LIGHT
</b>          extends from one wall to the other. Reacting to the
          shattered test-tube, Julie steps backward into the beam.

<b>                         CLICK
</b>          a photic-sensor picks up the disturbance.

<b>          CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!
</b>          Corrugated steel coverings slide down the windows, blocking
          out all light from the laboratory... There's a WHIRRING

<b>                         SOUND AS:
</b>
<b>                         SPEAKERS
</b>          extrude slowly from slots over the windows.

<b>                         A VOICE
</b>          fills the room. It is a hollow Voice that echos about the
          lab.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          Please be seated.
          A spotlight SNAPS on, illuminating a chair behind her.
          Numbly, she sits in it.

<b>                         A SCREEN
</b>          tak l in of her. Tvoice
          tak cati nal
          essono heomonotonousltone ofoatnarrator ofhedu
          films.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          ve. ow does it work? A Westlake
          Yanigita presentation.
          A smile spreads across Julie's face.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          28.
</b>
<b>                         52 CONTINUED(2)
</b>          A slide is projected on the screen. It shows a sunset
          over the ocean. Very corny, distorted music over this
          shot.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          Love. Science is perplexed over this
          great mystery.
          Shot of Peyton and Yakitito in white lab coats, identical
          looks of perplexity on their, faces.
          Julie laughs.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          What are the causes of love? How do
          we detect its presence? What are its
          effects? These are some of the
          questions we will investigate in this
          lesson.
          Again the sunset and distorted music.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          Part one. je origins 21 ve.
          The sunset is replaced by split-screen photos of Peyton and
          Julie, age twelve. Peyton peers into a test-tube through
          glasses too big for his face. Julie assumes a mock-debonair
          pose for the camera.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          These lovers first met on a seventh
          grade field trip to the planetarium...
          Shot of the night sky, rich with stars and galaxies.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          While the narrator discussed the
          origins of the universe, Peyton held
          Julie's hand.
          Shot of a somewhat nerdy Peyton with his arm stiffly around
          Julie.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          29.
</b>
<b>                         52 CONTINUED(3)
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          You were so slick.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          Our test-subjects were soon--to use
          the jargon of teenagers--"going out.
          " This "going out" period can be as
          short as a single date, or as long as
          a lifetime.
          Montage of Peyton and Julie throughout the years.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          In the case of these two--a rare
          phenomenon--it lasted twenty years.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Although we broke up sixteen times.
          Sunset and distorted music.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>
<b>                         TUA
</b>          Part two. Mating rumpled bed,
          The sunset is replaced by a shot of Julie on a
          working on legal briefs, a camera-faced shadow crossing the
          image.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          Certain objects develop a special,
          shared meaning to lovers. Here are
          some objects significant to our test
          subjects.
          Shot of coffee-rings on a table.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          The coffee rings Peyton tends to
          leave. They irritate Julie, and he
          leaves them everywhere!
          Quick shots. Coffee rings on a lab report. Coffee rings on
          a book-shelf. Coffee rings on a wall and ceiling.
          Julie laughs.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          30.
</b>
<b>                         52 CONTINUED(4)
</b>
<b>                         VOICE
</b>          Yet such minor irritations can
          strangely become endearing to the
          other mate.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Not just yet they haven't.
          The slide changes to a shot of a bottle covered in wax.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          The bottle of Dom Perignon Champagne
          Julie gave Peyton for his twenty-first
          birthday. Now it serves as a candle
          holder.

<b>                         QUIETLY;
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          I never gave you that.
          The champagne bottle is replaced by a shot of a record album
          turning on a player. The music plays over the image. Haunting.
          Romantic.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          Finally, the single Love in the ark
          The song continues. Julie smiles, swept away by it.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          This song was playing when the two
          first kissed.
          A high school prom picture comes up on the screen.
          Peyton in an awkwardly fitting tux and Julie, a
          blossoming beauty. In the slide, they have been
          caught kissing.

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          Now let us leave our test-subjects.
          The sunset again. ov in the Dark theme plays over it,. and
          eventually fades away.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          31.
</b>
<b>                         52 CONTINUED(5)
</b>
<b>                         VOICE
</b>          Love. It's fundamental nature still
          eludes modern Science. Yet
          researchers across the globe continue
          to study this ancient and powerful
          phenomenon. Hoping one day, to unlock
          love's mystery.
          Credits come on. A Westlake/Yanagita Presentation. Etc. Peyton
          The lights in the lab come on. Julie turns around.
          steps out from behind the slide projector.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Pretty stupid, huh?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          I thought it was beautiful-

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Yakitito helped. I just wanted you to
          see it. It was just something I
          wanted you to. . know.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          I know.
          Peyton wraps his arms about her. Julie moves close and they
          kiss.

<b>                         DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>                         53
</b>
<b>          53 INT. WESTLAKE LAB - NIGHT
</b>
          The test-tubes vibrate
          WE PAN along racks of test-tubes-
           like wind-chimes, fall still, then vibrate again... OUR PAN e.

<b>                          FOLD-OUT
</b>          HALTS on Peyton anï¿½EuRl etï¿½ y heircloveamakingï¿½v
          The test-tubes CLA h thm
           to th DISSOLVE TO:

<b>                         54
</b>
<b>          54 LATER THAT NIGHT
</b>          Peyton watches Julie as she sleeps, his shadow crossing her
          beautiful face. He strokes her hair.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          32.
</b>
<b>          55 INT WESTLAKE LAB - MORNING 55
</b>          Sunshine streams through the sheers of the window onto
          Julie's shoulder. She sits on the bed going over some papers,
          her expression increasingly disturbed.
          Julie punches a number into the phone.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          .Dale Gorson, please...
          Peyton's hand enters with a mug of coffee, which he sets on
          the papers in front of her.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton!
          Julie takes the mug away; it has indeed left a brown circle
          on the topmost memo.
          Julie smiles at him. Then:

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Dale? Yes, Julie Hastings... yes, I
          found some memos researching the Von
          Hoffenstein deal that I don't think I
          was supposed to find... From the late
          Mr. Strack to a guy named Claude
          Bellasarious. They're records of
          payments to various people on the
          zoning commission...
          Peyton, behind her, massages her back.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          .They look like payoffs. Suspicious,
          at the very least... Well, the way I'd
          like to proceed is to talk to Strack's
          son first... Give him the benefit of
          the doubt. Under the circumstances,
          it's the least I can do.
          She hangs up. Peyton kisses her. She leans back into his
          arms and closes her eyes blissfully. Reluctantly, she rises
          and slips on her shoes. Peyton watches her admiring everything
          about her. She gracefully lays her legal papers in her
          briefcase and heads for the door. Half way out the door she
          turns to Peyton.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>           (Revised Scene is 2-17-89)

<b>           33.
</b>
<b>                         55 CONTINUED
</b>          Bye. I'll call l you tonight. Maybe we
          can get together.
          She exits.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          The sound of the closing door echos. He sits alone on the
          ksd, looking about the empty apartment and lab beyond.

<b>          56 EXT. CITY STREET - MORNING 56
</b>

<b>                         JULIE
</b>           In an impressive corporate power suit, briefcase in hand, walks
          briskl y down the sunny sidewalk, stopping at the intersection to
          sig nal a cab Suddenly, running up behind her..

<b>                         57 PEYTON 57
</b>          Dressed in jeans and sweatshirt, hurries to catch up to her.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Julie, wait!
          She is opening the cab door when she turns to him.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          What's the matter?

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          I've been thinking. Maybe we should
          get married.

<b>                         58 JULIE 58
</b>          Freezes half in and half out of the cab door. Panicked.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          34.
</b>
<b>                         58
</b>
<b>                         58 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Marriage--well, we could do that--of
          course, there's our careers--I men,
          I'm just starting to get things going
          at the firm. And, you know, I kind
          of like having my own

<b>                         PLACE --
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          'We're practically living together now.
          All marriage means is you answer the
          phone in the and if
          you to pretend
          grandmother,
          it's a wrong number. The poor woman's
          beginning to think she has
          alzheimer's.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>
<b>                         (FLUSTERED)
</b>           i--i can't talk about this now...

<b>                          59
</b>          59 She starts to get into the cab when Peyton stops her.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Julie, I'm asking you to marry me.

<b>                         60
</b>
<b>                         60 THE CABBIE
</b>          leans out of the cab to Julie.

<b>                         CABBIE
</b>          He got a ring?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>
<b>                         END A
</b>           Peyton, you didn't go ou anp d you?
           lot of money on a ring, di

<b>                          PEYTON
</b>           Ring? Oh, no, I don't have a ring.

<b>                          61
</b>
<b>                         61 THE CABBIE
</b>          motions for Julie. She leans close.

<b>                         CABBIE
</b>
<b>                         (WHISPERS)
</b>          He don't show much sense of
          commitment.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          35.
</b>
<b>                         62 PEYTON 62
</b>          Bends down into frame and gives the Cabbie a look that
          would stop a wristwatch.

<b>                         63 THE CABBIE 63
</b>          responds by starting the meter running.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          I mean, I just now finally

<b>                         REALIZED ---
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          I love you, Peyton...
          She climbs into the cab, closes the door.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          -Realized how much--

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          (through the open

<b>                         WINDOW)
</b>          but I guess I'm not ready.
          64 Julie leans close to kiss him, but the cab pulls into 64
          traffic.

<b>          65 VIEW THROUGH REAR WINDSHIELD 65
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Watches Peyton grow smaller as the cab moves off. Julie
          looks longingly back at Peyton. Did she make the right
          choice? She back once more for Peyton but he is only a
          tiny dot in the distance.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>           s 2-17-89)

<b>                          (REVISED SCENE
</b>
<b>           36.
</b>
<b>                         66 OMIT 67
</b>
<b>          67 I/E THE CITY FROM STRACK'S OFFICE - DAY
</b>          From many, many stories up. We are pulling back.

<b>                         STRACK'S VOICE
</b>          Yes, go ahead, put a buy on the
          Kugerands... Thank you for your
          sympathy, Franz. He was a great man.
          And as long as Strack Industries
          flourishes my father lives on.
           The pull back shows Strack behind his power desk, talking nd Strack
          into the phone.
          waves the person on into his lush corporatecoffice

<b>                         67
</b>
<b>          67 INT STRACK'S OFFICE - DAY
</b>
<b>                         STRACK
</b>          .Very good. Thank you.
          He hangs up.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          .Miss Hastings. Have a seat.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Strack...
          I'm --sorry about your father. I
          heard last night.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          My father was a great man, and his

<b>                          CAN GET
</b>          loss is felt by
          you something? allfof?us.

<b>                          (FAINT SMILE)
</b>          Maison Reme 1967?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          No thank you. Mr. Strack, I've been
          going over some documents and I came
          across something that puzzled me. It's
          a memo from your office to a Mr.
          Claude Bellasarious--it went out over
          your father's signature. It detailed

<b>                         CERTAIN PAYMENTS--
</b>          Strack has gotten up to pace.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          37.
</b>
<b>                         67
</b>
<b>                         67 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Yes yes, I know the memo.
          Julie continues, hesitantly:

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          ...It seems like the payments... were-

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          They were pay-offs. To the zoning
          commission. Bribes, to call a spade a
          spade.
          He gives her an appraising look.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          .Does that shock you?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>
<b>                         (QUIETLY)
</b>          No. In fact I'd surmised as much.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          But it disappoints you.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Well it's hardly my place to--

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          That's right, it's not your place.
          Yet I value your good opinion.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Surely you don't expect me to endorse
          it.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Course not. I'm sure my father never
          intended for you to know about it.
          I'm sorry if He's compromised
          you in any way. But I am asking you
          to understand. I'm not going to bore
          you with that old speech about how we
          all have to swim in the same
          pond. But you know as well as I that

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          38.
</b>
<b>                         67 CONTINUED(2)
</b>
<b>                         STRACK (CONT'D)
</b>          not so much as one mini-mall ever went
          up in this city without some grease
          being laid into the palms downtown.
          You're not naive; you know
          it's a cost of doing business.
          Ordinarily you don't have to face it.
          Well, I face it, and a lot worse,
          into acynic--that's the easy way out,
          and I'm tougher than that.
          Strack gestures towards a table-top architectural model of
          the Riverfront Development.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Take a look at that model, Julie.
          That was my father's dream. Now it's
          my dream. Acres of riverfront
          reclaimed from decay, thousands of
          jobs created, a building block--a very
          large building block--laid for the
          future. Not such a bad dream, as
          dreams go. And if the price of
          realizing that dream is the occasional
          distasteful chore, well...

<b>                         (BEAT)
</b>          .the point is my father is well
          beyond the reach of the law, but that
          memo could embarrass Strack
          enterprises.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          All right, you're point is well taken.
          But the fact remains that I'm in
          possession of evidence of the
          commission of a crime. You can no
          more ask me to destroy it than I could
          ask you to destroy one of your
          buildings.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Let me suggest this. You excuse
          yourself for a few minutes, go to the
          ladies' room, leaving your briefcase
          here. What happens to the memorandum
          while it's in my custody is my
          responsibility.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>          39.
</b>
<b>                         67 CONTINUED(3)
</b>           Julie smiles.

<b>                          JULIE
</b>          I wish it were that simple. First of
          all, I don't have the memo with me.
          Even if I did--

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          It isn't safe to have that document.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Are you threatening me?

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          moves closer, touching her arm.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          I'm trying to protect you. Does.
          (He hesitates, pursing st her.)
          his lips, wondering if he can tru
          Does the name Robert Durant mean
          anything to you?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          He's an underworld figure--
          racketeering, drugs.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>
<b>                         A
</b>          And real-estate. Robert Durant is
          competitor for the river-front and
          knows about that document. He is a
          criminal, Julie. And he will freelyat
          resort to criminal methods to get
          he wants.
          There's a pause.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>
<b>                         AND
</b>          Well, you're very eloquent,
          frankly I'm not certain what I should
          do. You'll have to trust me for a day
          or so to figure this out.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          40.
</b>
<b>                         67 CONTINUED(4)
</b>
<b>                          STRACK
</b>           Is that the most I can extract from
           you?

<b>                         FIRMLY:
</b>
<b>                          JULIE
</b>          For now.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          I believe it is. Well then, my dear,
          I'm in your hands.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         68
</b>
<b>          68 INT. HALLWAY OF STRACK'S OFFICE - DAY
</b>
          Julie exits the office area and gets into an elevator.

<b>                         69
</b>
<b>          69 INT. ELEVATOR STRACK'S BUILDING - DAY
</b>

<b>          JULIE AND TWO ELDER WOMEN
</b>          descend in the elevator. Music is piped in from overhead
          speakers. it takes a moment before Julie realizes what she's

<b>                         HEARING:
</b>          The song IM IR =E DARE
          Haunting. Sad. As Julie listens, she becomes more and more
          affected.

<b>                         OLD WOMAN #1
</b>          And you know he never said one bad
          word to that girl. He never done
          wrong by her. She's sure sorry now.
          He was a rare one.

<b>                         OLD WOMAN #2
</b>          Well, you find someone who loves you,
          like Jim loved her, you shouldn't give
          'em up so easy.

<b>          CLOSE ON JULIE
</b>          The women's remarks are not lost.on her.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>          41.
</b>
<b>          70 INT WESTLAKE LAB - DAY 70
</b>          Peyton stands over the projected microscope image on the
          computer monitor.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Time?

<b>                         YAIKITITO
</b>          Ninety-six minute.
          A pause.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          So, did you ask her?

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>
<b>                         (EMBARRASSED)
</b>          Not yet, Yakitito, not yet. Time.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          This is unbelievable! Every day--

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Time, Yakitito.

<b>                         YAKITITO
</b>          It still ninety six minute! Sounds to
          me that maybe you didn't ask her.
          Maybe your afraid?

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Look, I asked her. She said no, okay?
          Well, she actually said "I don't
          know".
          Peyton stands and stretches. The telephone rings, Peyton
          moves to answer it.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          I'll get it.

<b>          71 EXT PAYPHONE - DAY -JULIE 71
</b>          is beaming as she stands at a pay phone waiting for Peyton
          to answer.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          42.
</b>
<b>          ?1 CONTINUED 71
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          please be there Peyton.

<b>          72 INT. WESTLAKE LAB - DAY - PEYTON 72
</b>
          reaches for the phone when.

<b>                         A HAND
</b>          Juts out of the shadows and clutches at Peyton's wrist!

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          Don't bother.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          We hold on his shocked face as the phone rings and then
          stops.

<b>          CLICK!
</b>          A light hits Peyton's face. He turns to look.

<b>                         HIS POV
</b>
<b>          A TENSOR LIGHT
</b>          Pauly's chunky outline flashes on in the back of the lab.
          is revealed. The middle-aged, balding man raisesHasboitleare
          of Maalox to his lips. hearty gulp.
          hiteafluid, coated with the chalky w

<b>                         ANOTHER LIGHT
</b>          comes on revealing Trumayne.

<b>                         ANOTHER LIGHT
</b>          Rudy Guzman.

<b>                         ANOTHER LIGHT
</b>          reveals the entire gang; Corky Corcoran and a grinning Smiley
          stand side by side. Near them, Skip. In the very back is
          Rick, looking a little green around the gills.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revused Scene Is 2-17-89)

<b>          43.
</b>
<b>                         72 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          looks wildly about.

<b>                         HIS POV
</b>          Panning from Skip to Rudy to Trumayne to--Pauly's fist,
          being launched directly into the camera.

<b>                         73
</b>
<b>                         73 PEYTON
</b>          is knocked back across the lab table. Glassware and
          equipment fly.

<b>                         PAULY
</b>          pulls him up and slams him into the wall.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          sags down, then hauls himself to his knees to behold:

<b>          GOLD CIGAR TRIMMER
</b>          SNIP!--trimming the end of a cigar, which is then
          brought to the mouth of...

<b>          ROBERT G. DURANT
</b>          towering above.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          No foolish heroics, if you please. We
          have come only for documentstell us
          where to find the Bellasarious
          memorandum and we shall disappear--
          like a nightmare before the
          breaking day.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>
<b>                         (HOARSELY)
</b>          I don't know what you're talking

<b>                         ABOUT--
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          44.
</b>
<b>                         73 CONTINUED
</b>          BAM--BAM--Pauly has grabbed him by the hair and rams his
          head into the wall twice.

<b>                         74 DURANT 74
</b>          looking sadly down.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          The Bellasaurious memorandum if you
          please...

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          I told you, I don't know what you're
          talking about!
          CRACKLE--Yakatito Yanagita is thrust into frame, his
          mouth stretched wide under the plastic bag that covers
          his head.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          .Should your houseboy's predicament
          not jog your memory, you may bid him
          Godspeed.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Stop it! Let him breathe!

<b>                         DURANT
</b>
<b>                         (DRILY)
</b>          You heard the doctor: Ventilate him.
          Rick steps forward, unholstering a gun. Pointing it at
          the spot where Yakatito's mouth gapes under the plastic.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          surges forward but a vicious backhand blow from Pauly
          sends him back to the floor.
          He raises his face just as--BAM--an orange flash plays
          on Peyton's horrified features. THUNK! Yakatito drops
          into frame in front of him.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         2-17-89)
</b>           (Revised scene is

<b>           45.
</b>
<b>                         74 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         RICK
</b>          With a trembling hand he holsters the gun. He withdraws
          a bottle of pills from his jacket. He shakes out two and
          swallows them dry.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          emerges from the bedroom.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          Bingo!
          He waves the coffee-stained document that he has found.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Fine...

<b>          .75
</b>
<b>          75 TRUMAYNE AND PAULY
</b>           grab Peyton and ram him into the two electrodes that lead
           to a reservoir of blue fluid.

<b>                          PEYTON
</b>           s connects and is electrified. Unable to lot go, he
           shrieks a s his body

<b>                          S75
</b>
<b>          S75 CLOSE SHOT PEYTON'S HANDS - STOP MOTION ANIMATION
</b>           His skin peels away from the bone under the intense
           electrical charge. OMIT 76

<b>                         76 OMIT 77
</b>          77 Peyton opens his mouth, but no sounds come out.

<b>                          78
</b>
<b>                         78 RICK'S FACE
</b>           Twitches in horror.

<b>                          79
</b>
<b>          79 PEYTON- STUNT DOUBLE - COMPRESSED AIR RIG
</b>          He screams as his hands burst into flame. The electrodes
          that he clutches SNAP and fall into the reservoir of
          blue fluid which instantly CRACKLES-

<b>                         V
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>           (Revised Scene #s 2-17-89)

<b>           46.
</b>          8o FLASHES of white current light up Smiley's beaming face. 80

<b>          81 PEYTON . 81
</b>          collapses to the floor, atop his flaming hands,
          smothering them.

<b>                         82 DURANT 82
</b>          calmly puts out his cigar and opens the valve on a green
          tank labeled: OXYGEN. Then another: ACETYLENE. He
          places his electronic lighter under the beak of the
          drinking bird. Like an oil rig, the bird's beak bobs
          closer and closer to the switch on the lighter.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          pulls himself to his knees, cradling the smoking claws
          that were his hands. Durant lifts him to his feet.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Please, Remain calm. Let's keep this
          orderly. Resistance now would only
          prompt acts of pointless cruelty.
          Durant gestures with a quick movement with his head.

<b>          GUZMAN AND PAULY
</b>          grab firmly ahold of Peyton's legs. They rush him
          forward and dunk his head into the electrified bath
          of blue fluid.

<b>          83 INSIDE THE BATH PEYTON 83
</b>          face upside-down, eyes bulging. Underwater electrical
          sparks course past him. SCREAM bubbles erupt from his
          mouth.

<b>          83A PEYTON - PUPPET HEAD 83A
</b>          The charged blue fluid eats into his skin.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>           s 2-17-89)

<b>                         (REVISED SCENE
</b>
<b>           47.
</b>
<b>                         83B
</b>
<b>                         83B SMILEY
</b>          grins with delight.

<b>                         83C
</b>
<b>          83C PEYTON AND THE ELECTRIFIED BATH
</b>          The SCREAM subsides as the electricity short circuits and
          shuts down. Peyton's limp body falls out of frame.

<b>                         83D
</b>
<b>                         83D DURANT
</b>          surveys the wrecked lab, then hands Trumayne his cigar
          trimmer. Softly:

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Bring the Asian's fingers.
          (aloud; to his

<b>                         MEN)
</b>          .Gentlemen?

<b>          DURANT AND THUGS
</b>          exit.

<b>                         84
</b>
<b>                         84 PEYTON
</b>          lies immobile.

<b>          THE OPEN GAS VALVES
</b>          HISS, filling the room with the explosive mix of oxygen
          and acetylene.

<b>          THE DRINKING BIRD'S
</b>          beak inches closer to the ignition button on the lighter.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          stirs slightly, his breath a twisted WHEEZE. Slowly, he
          comes to his knees. Head and hands trailing smoke, he
          crawls toward the bobbing bird and lighter.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene Is 2-17-89)

<b>          48.
</b>
<b>          85 EXT WESTLAKE LAB/APARTMENT BUILDING - TWILIGHT 85
</b>          A Midnight blue 1989 Continental pulls away. A cab pulls
          up. Julie emerges from the cab and fishes in her purse
          for the fare. The headlights of the limo sweep over her
          and away.

<b>                         86 PEYTON 86-
</b>          drags himself past the bay windows to within a foot of
          the bobbing bird. The HISSING of the gas is loud.

<b>                         86A
</b>
<b>          86A THE BEAK OF THE DRINKING BIRD
</b>          dips closer to the electronic lighter's ignition
          button...

<b>                         86B
</b>
<b>                         86B PEYTON
</b>          crawls to the base of the table which holds the bobbing
          bird and lighter.

<b>                         86C
</b>
<b>          86C PEYTON'S CHARRED AND SMOKING HAND
</b>          fumbles for the lighter.

<b>                         86D
</b>
<b>          86D EXTREME CLOSE SHOT - BIRD BEAK
</b>          Closer... closer... contact. The lighter CLICKS.

<b>          SILENCE.
</b>
<b>                         86E
</b>          86E CLOSE SHOT - SLOW MOTION 400 frames a second.
          A tiny spark is born. It grows.

<b>          SILENCE.
</b>
<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene s 2-17-89)

<b>          49.
</b>
<b>                         86'
</b>
<b>                         86F CONTINUED
</b>
<b>          EXTREME CLOSE SHOT - PEYTON'S PUPIL
</b>          widens in fear, then contracts, responding to a bright
          silent flash.

<b>                         37
</b>
<b>          87 SILENCE - LAB WALL
</b>          One thousand lab sheets ignite.

<b>                         BE
</b>
<b>          88 THE HIDDEN SLIDE PROJECTOR
</b>          is triggered. On the screen flash the slides from the
          Peyton/Yakitito presentation... images of Peyton and
          Julie...The split-screen picture of the two lovers
          melts as the screen

<b>          BURSTS INTO FLAMES
</b>
<b>                          89
</b>
<b>          89 SILENCE - SLOW MOTION - PEYTON
</b>          directly between us and the blast. An intense blue
          light fades up, brilliantly backlighting Peyton. His
          stark shadow burns into us.

<b>                         90
</b>
<b>          90 SILENCE - SAM-O-CAM RIG - PEYTON
</b>          As he is thrust off of his feet, and rocketed through the
          wall.

<b>                         91
</b>
<b>          91 SILENCE - EXT. PEYTON'S BUILDING - MINIATURE - NIGHT
</b>
          Intense blue light flashes out of the windows and up the
          chimney into the sky.

<b>                         91A
</b>          91A Peyton's rag doll body spins end over end, upward
          towards the stars.
          Silently.

<b>                         91B
</b>          91B It takes a moment for the SOUND of the explosion to
          catch up with the blast--
          KAAABOOOOMMMM!!! Noise that makes the earth shake.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene #s 2-17-89)

<b>          50.
</b>
<b>          92 EXT. STREET - NIGHT- JULIE 92
</b>
           is knocked to the sidewalk by the shock wave. A flaming
           chair and large bricks rain down around her.

<b>          93 THE SKY - PEYTON DUMMY - NIGHT 93-
</b>           Peyton's flaming body plummets toward the earth like a
          comet. _

<b>          94 EXT. RIVER - PEYTON STUNT DOUBLE - NIGHT 94
</b>
          Peyton splashes to the fire-lit water.

<b>          95 EXT - RIVER - CLOSER ON PEYTON - NIGHT 95
</b>          He floats like a dead man, flaming debris from the
          building SPLASHING down around him. With a GROAN, he
          sinks beneath the murky water.

<b>          B96 JULIE B 96
</b>          Julie pulls herself to her feet. She stands in utter
          shock in a downpour of forks, knives and spoons. Before
          her.

<b>                         P96
</b>
<b>          P96 - PEYTON'S BUILDING BURNS
</b>          lke a hay stack. Offscreen sirens WAIL.

<b>          B 97 WIDER SHOT - JULIE - BLUE SCREEN B97
</b>          She stands in shock as.

<b>          P97 PEYTON'S BUILDING BURNS P97
</b>
<b>                          98
</b>
<b>          98 BITS OF CHARRED PAPER - MINIATURE - SLOW MOTION
</b>           float-past her and the burning building beyond.

<b>                          P99
</b>
<b>          THE BURNING BACKGROUND FADES AWAY.
</b>          Night turns to day as tombstones appear on either side
          of her. The falling bits of paper change to falling
          leaves.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene s's 2-17-89) 51.
          99A FALLING BITS OF PAPER (Super against black) SLOW MOTION 99A
          Change to falling leaves.

<b>          B99.. JULIE - BLUE SCREEN B99
</b>          She remains in the exact same position. Her business
          suit becomes a black suit of mourning.

<b>          100 EXT. GRAVEYARD - CLOSE SHOT - JULIE - DAY 100
</b>
          Her expression of shock has not changed. In front or
          her, A MARKER. It reads: "PEYTON WESTLAKE". CAMERA PULLS

<b>          BACK TO REVEAL.
</b>
<b>          101 A LIMOUSINE DRIVER 101
</b>          leans against his limousine, looking bored. He turns
          to the Gravedigger, an older man, dressed in soiled work
          overalls who props himself up on his shovel.

<b>                         LIMO DRIVER
</b>          Didn't see you workin' out there.

<b>                         GRAVEDIGGER
</b>          Never found the guy's body, just an
          ear. Don't take long to bury that.
          Now sometimes when this happens
          folks'].]. be lookin' for a discount.
          But see, it ain't the diggin' that
          your payin' for, It's the real estate.
          They watch as...

<b>                         102 JULIE 102
</b>          buttons her coat and straightens herself, attempting to
          gain resolve. She will put this behind her. She walks
          toward the limousine but is suddenly hammered by grief.
          Her gait wavers. Racked by sobbing, she falls.
          Tears stream from her eyes as she clutches at the grass.

<b>                         103 A PRIEST 103
</b>          helps her to her feet.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          52.
</b>
<b>                         104 JULIE 104
</b>          raises her tear soaked face and we see the extent of her
          suffering.

<b>          105 EXT. GRAVEYARD - LONG-SHOT - DAY 105
</b>
           The tiny figure of the Priest as he places a consoling
          arm around her.
           They walk off to the waiting car.

<b>           SLOW FADE OUT:
</b>
<b>          106 FADE IN: INT HOSPITAL BURN UNIT- DAY 106
</b>
<b>                         BLUE
</b>          The undifferentiated blue resolves itself, as a ripplin
          blue fluid, resembling the acid bath in Peyton's lab. A
          form emerges from it's depths; a completely bandaged head
          breaks the surface of the fluid.

<b>                         107 WIDER 107
</b>          A patient is lifted from a hydro tank, the complex water
          vessel in which burn patients are treated. He lies
          perfectly still, hands and face swathed in gauze; A 20th-
          century mummy. Tubes and wires.poke from his body.
          We hear the steady beeping of a cardiogram.

<b>          108 MASKED BURN NURSES 108
</b>          carefully strap the mummy onto a hydraulically powered,
          multi-axied burn platform. Behind him are other
          bandaged patients, some rotating on burn platforms,
          some still submerged in their hydro-tanks.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          53.
</b>
<b>                         109
</b>
<b>          109 THE RESIDENT PHYSICIAN AND FOUR INTERNS
</b>          saunter over to the hydraulic bed where nurses adjust
          the patient's I.V. tubing.

<b>                         RESIDENT
</b>          Here we have a 25-30 year-old-male, no
          I.D., no medical history. Fished the
          guy out of the river with burns
          covering over forty percent of his
          body. His hands and.face were the
          most severe.

<b>                         110
</b>
<b>          110 A BURN NURSE
</b>          pushes a button. Motors grinding, the hydraulic platform
          rotates, slowly spinning the mummified man. For a brief
          moment he is upside down.

<b>                         RESIDENT
</b>          Ten years ago, pain from the burns
          would have been intolerable. The guy
          would have spent the rest of his
          screaming. Now we use the Rangeveritz
          technique; quite simply, we sever his
          spino-thalamic nerve...

<b>                         111
</b>          111 ZIIIP! He extends a telescoping steel pointer and to n's bandaged ear.
           indicates a spot just above Pey

<b>                         RESIDENT
</b>          .Here. Which, as you know,
          transmits neural-impulses of pain and
          vibratory sense to the brain.

<b>          112,
</b>          112 ZIIIP! He collapses the pointer and returns it to his
          pocket.

<b>                         113
</b>
<b>          113 THE HYDRAULIC BURN PLATFORM
</b>          continues its slow rotation with the mummified patient
          now turned sideways.

<b>                         RESIDENT
</b>          No longer receiving impulses of pain,
          you stick him with a pin...

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          54.
</b>
<b>                         114
</b>          He jabs a sterilized needle deep into the bandaged knee. 114
          Interns gasp. The resident leaves the pin in the knee
          for dramatic effect.

<b>                         RESIDENT
</b>          .and he can't even feel it.
          With a sharp practiced motion, he plucks out the pin.

<b>                         115
</b>
<b>          PATIENT'S BANDAGED FACE
</b>
<b>                         115
</b>          His eyes still closed. No response.

<b>                         RESIDENT
</b>          Of course, there are serious emotional
          side effects to this operation. When
          the body ceases to feel, when so much
          sensory input is lost, the patient
          becomes alienated. The mind, cut off
          from its regular diet of input, has a
          never-satisfied thirst; alienation
          gives rise to loneliness, anger;
          uncontrolled rage is not uncommon.
          And the rage problem is exacerbated by
          the chemical effect of severing the
          nerve. Now, surges of adrenaline flow
          unchecked through body and brain--
          giving him the strength of dozen men.
          Hence the leather restraints.
          The resident turns and heads for the door. The interns
          follow behind like ducklings.

<b>                         116 I
</b>
<b>          THE PATIENT'S BANDAGED FACE
</b>
<b>                          116
</b>          But as it rotates into frame and clangs to a halt.
          Between the bandages, the eyes pop open, blue and
          fiercely lucid. It's Peyton. He has heard everything.

<b>          117 INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR
</b>

<b>                         117
</b>          The resident speaks over his shoulder to the interns as
          they walk.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          55.
</b>
<b>                         117 CONTINUED 117
</b>
<b>                         RESIDENT
</b>          Naturally, we give him every chance of
          recovery.
          He waves his hands about in futile circles letting the
          interns know that this is the party line.

<b>                         RESIDENT
</b>          .Remain optimistic... inspire
          confidence... Talk to him about
          rehabilitation potential...
          Personally? I give him a nine on the
          buzzard scale.

<b>                         118 THE LOUDSPEAKERS 118
</b>          emit a loud warning tone.

<b>                         PUBLIC ADDRESS
</b>          Code Blue, Burn Unit. All doctors
          report. Code Blue, Burn Unit.

<b>          119 THE RESIDENT AND INTERNS 119
</b>          freeze for a half-moment, turn and race back the way they
          came.

<b>          120 INTO HOSPITAL CORRIDOR #2 - TRACKING WITH TWO ORDERLIES 120
</b>
<b>          AND THEIR "CRASH CART"
</b>          as they race pell mell down the hallway, rubbing
          conductive jelly between the defibrilator paddles.

<b>          121 INTO BURN UNIT - A HOSPITAL CURTAIN 121
</b>          is opened violently by a nurse. Her jaw drops in
          disbelief. Doctors and technicians rush into the room
          and freeze.

<b>                         122 THE RESIDENT 122
</b>          is the last to arrive. He can't see above the heads of
          the technicians and interns.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene Numbers 2-17-89)

<b>          56.
</b>
<b>                         122 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         RESIDENT
</b>          Alright, move. I'm in charge here!
          Lemme through!
          He pushes his way to the front of the crowd and blinks
          stupidly at the camera.

<b>          123 PEYTON'S HYDRAULIC PLATFORM. 123
</b>          Loose bandages, torn leather restraints, and tangled
          E.K.G. wires dangle aimlessly in the wind; a bright
          flash of lightning illuminates the empty hydraulic bed.

<b>                         I
</b>
<b>          124 THE RESIDENT'S HAIR 124
</b>           is suddenly blown back by a gust of wind. Confused, he
           looks up from the bed and out the open window.

<b>          B124 THROUGH THE OPEN WINDOW B124
</b>           Dark storm clouds billow over the city. Thunder crashes.

<b>                          125
</b>
<b>                         125 OMIT
</b>
<b>          126 EXT. ALLEY ENTRANCE/EMPTY STREET - DUSK 126
</b>
          Thunder rumbles and it begins to rain. A delirious
          Peyton, now wearing a ratty black overcoat, staggers and
          falls into an oily mud puddle.

<b>          127 CLOSE SHOT PEYTON 127
</b>          He slowly raises his bandaged face from the mud.
          Desperate eyes peer out from a slit in the muddied
          bandages. He forces himself to stand and move onward.
          He stops in his tracks.

<b>          128 HIS POV ACROSS THE STREET - JULIE'S BROWNSTONE APARTMENT 128
</b>          Julie steps from the stylish foyer and opens her umbrella.

<b>                         PEYTON'S EYES
</b>          growing misty. He staggers across the street after her.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          57.
</b>
<b>                         129
</b>
<b>                         129 JULIE
</b>          terrified at the sight of...

<b>                         130
</b>
<b>          130 A HIDEOUS HAND
</b>          clutching at her shoulder. Scarred tendons and hand
          bones poke from unraveling bandages. They grip tighter
          seeking help. Repulsed, Julie spins to see.

<b>                         131
</b>
<b>          131 DARK FIGURE/PEYTON
</b>          A vague, unrecognizable shape in the shadows. From it
          comes the awful sound of an inhuman voice, an
          unintelligible guttural rasp:

<b>          DARK FIGURE/PEYTON
</b>          Juuuuulieeeeee. Heeeeeeeelp
          meeeeeee...

<b>                         132
</b>
<b>                         132 JULIE
</b>           A gasp caught in her throat, backs away...

<b>                          133
</b>
<b>                         133 PEYTON
</b>           removes his offending
           recoils, from her behind his back.
           horror-hand andtuck eitlshamefully

<b>                          S
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>
<b>                         (ALMOST
</b>
<b>                         INTELLIGIBLE
</b>
<b>                         RASP)
</b>          It's meeeeeee.

<b>                         134
</b>
<b>          3.34 JULIE
</b>          moves quickly away, her hand protecting her throat.
          Her fear is mixed with pity as she turns away from this
          monstrous man.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          58.
</b>
<b>                         134
</b>
<b>                         134 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>
<b>                         (AN INTELLIGIBLE
</b>
<b>                         RASP)
</b>          It's me.
           But she is too far away to hear.

<b>                          135
</b>
<b>          135 HIGH SHOT FROM TWENTY STORIES ABOVE THE CITY STREET
</b>           In the downpour, the two tiny figures below turn and warm
           move quickly from
           of the browns t , Â°theaotherrto thetshadowshof the alleys

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         136
</b>
<b>          136 EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT
</b>
          A bandaged Peyton emerges from a cloud of fog in the
          worsening rain.

<b>                         137
</b>
<b>          137 A LAUGHING COUPLE
</b>           rush from a posh restaurant, past Peyton, and into a
           waiting taxi.

<b>                          138
</b>
<b>          138 EXT STREET - TITAN CRANE - WIND FANS - PEYTON'S LONELY
</b>
<b>                         EYES
</b>           despair. pull
          t follow them. He s overcome looks like the last
           d distance that Peyton
           to such a great t
           man on Earth.

<b>                          CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         139
</b>
<b>          139 EXT. ALLEY - WIND FANS - NIGHT
</b>
          Rain pounds the surface of the alley, hurricane hard.
          Gutterspouts gush torrents of water. Aeflattttenedf wind,
          cardboard box is whisked away by a
          revealing...

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene Numbers 2-17-89)

<b>          59.
</b>
<b>                         140 PEYTON 140
</b>          who has been huddling beneath it. A lost man. He coughs
          and stares blankly at...

<b>          141 A SEWER DRAIN 141
</b>          inches from his face. Rain water spins round and round
          in a whirlpool. A scrap of newspaper is swept into the
          current.

<b>                         142 PEYTON 142
</b>          stares at it.

<b>          143 CLOSER ON SPINNING NEWSPAPER 143
</b>          It bears a picture of his own face.

<b>          144 PEYTON'S BANDAGED EYES 144
</b>          widen.

<b>          145 CLOSER ON NEWSPAPER 145
</b>          It snags on a stick, revealing the picture's headline:
          SCIENTIST DIES IN ACCIDENTAL BLAST/Body still missing.

<b>          146 EXT . ALLEY - LONG SHOT- PEYTON 146
</b>          lying in the alley, staring at the whirlpool. It rains.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>          147 INT WESTLAKE LAB/APARTMENT - DAY 147
</b>          The charred door falls toward us, and into the ashes of
          Peyton's lab/apartment.

<b>          B147 I/E WESTLAKE LAB/WALL HOLE - DAY B147
</b>          Outside lab.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          60.
</b>
<b>                         148
</b>
<b>                         148 PEYTON
</b>          stands in the doorway wearing the black tattered
          overcoat and bandages. He gapes at the wreckage of
          his former world.

<b>                         149
</b>
<b>          149 YAKATITO'S COKE-BOTTLE EYEGLASSES
</b>          twisted from the heat.

<b>                         150
</b>
<b>                         150 PEYTON
</b>          Picks up an overturned end table and sets it right.
          'Re, has started to pick up an overturned chair when the
          futility of it hits him.

<b>                         151
</b>
<b>          151 HIS BANDAGED FINGERS
</b>           relax, letting the charred chair fall back into the ashes.

<b>                          152
</b>
<b>                         152 PEYTON
</b>           i rorr reflects his
           moves to a scorched andbï¿½heenm his face a nd and
           gauze from to the
          bandaged face. He pulls
          peers at his reflection. We are not privy
          but it horrifies him. He shakes in a choked sob.
          We move down to the ashes to reveal...

<b>          A PHOTOGRAPH OF PEYTON AND JULIE
</b>           and ful -but
           In the photo,
           J is lbli teredaand scarched.i

<b>                          PEYTON'S FACE 153
</b>
<b>                          S S
</b>
<b>                         153 PEYTON
</b>          grabs the, picture. In a fire ravaged voice;

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          When I'm W
          Do you still love me, now W can no u
          just some repulsive thing yo
          longer recognize? When I sicken YOU.
          When you run.
          A GLINT catches his eye. He turns.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          #s 2-17-89)

<b>                         (REVISED 5ZENE
</b>
<b>           61.
</b>
<b>                          154
</b>
<b>          154 DURANT'S GOLD LIGHTER
</b>           etal fingers clutch
           Twisted and scorched.
           the lighter and it ey to his on'seskel

<b>                         155
</b>
<b>                         155 PEYTON'S EYES
</b>          lose their dull, wounded appearance. Anger builds. hin
          Adrenaline surges. An emotion awakens from deep wit
          the prititive portion of his brain, his "rage spot".

<b>          RAGE!
</b>           He shakes as it floods him.

<b>                          156
</b>
<b>                         156 A VEIN
</b>          stands out on his forehead, swelling with blood, heaving ad.
          to the frantic pace of his heart... He clutches his he

<b>                         157
</b>
<b>          157 CRACK!
</b>          Gigantic radiating fissures appear in the walls... the
          ceiling... the floor... everywhere Peyton looks. He turns
          to us suddenly. THE CAMERA ROCKETS IN to his dark pupil.
          Within the blackness, we perceive--

<b>                         157A
</b>
<b>          157A THE CAMERA ROCKETS IN -
</b>          to his dark pupil. Within the blackness, we perceive -

<b>                         158
</b>
<b>          158 THE OPTIC NERVE - MINIATURE - COMPUTER CONTROL RIG
</b>          OUR VIEW moves deeper along the nerve till we come to o the
          Arterial Plexus. We follow the pulsating arteries
          they wind back, through the darker corridors of his
          brain,to the blood brain barrier.

<b>                         159
</b>
<b>          159 ELECTRICAL NERVE IMPULSES
</b>          bombard the barrier, flashing upon this receiving
          I wall of the brain.

<b>          ZAP!
</b>
<b>          FLASH!
</b>
<b>          FLASH!
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Sore s 2-17-89)

<b>           62.
</b>          160 The Twxze images bend back upon one another in startling 160
           succession. We catch glimpses of
           160A volcano erupting, 160A
           160E mathematical formulas, 160B
           160C Julie as lover/goddess/whore: 160C
           160D Explosinus of brick and flame. 160D
           160E Operating room surgeons above us, cutting-- Durant as chief 160E
           surgeonâ a cigar sticking out through a ho le cut in his mask...
           160F The leering heads of the Durant gang poke throughlaughingk 160F
           fissures in the wall... elongated nec s...
           insanely.
           160G Camera racing in towards Peyton's bandaged face six times,Peyton 160G
           same move, superfast
           ranting and raving, shaking rhis a fist r at r the a heavens with
           Biblical wrath.
          But we can't hear him. We pull back from his pupil
          to reveal...

<b>                         161 PEYTON 161
</b>           sitting, in the ashes on the floor of his lab/apartment.
           There are no fissures in the walls or ceiling. Peyton is
           framed by the bay window.
           B161 The city lights behind him. during the B161
           psychic rage bur s p st arkle , nignu fallen

<b>          PEYTON'S BANDAGED HAND
</b>          closes over the lighter.
          His mouth twists from it's pained grimace, past the
          neutral position, forming a tiny smile. His eyes gleam
          wickedly. A foghorn moans from the river.
          The Darkman is born.

<b>          162 BLACKOUT - INT GRAND BALLROOM - NIGHT 162
</b>           The blackness turns out to innards
           trombone--we are pulling ba ck be trem dslofta reveal
          that we are at a party.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (ReVisect Scene s 2-i7=89 )'Â°

<b>          63.
</b>
<b>                         162 CONTIIZTED 162
</b>          The band plays, many couples dance, others chat around
          the bar. The bandleader wraps up the song. Polite
          applause.

<b>          CONTINUED PULL BACK
</b>          reveals the beaming face of GOVERNOR BRYANT a red-faced
          man in his late forties. He sits at the head of a
          crowded table.

<b>          ON THE TABLE
</b>          a huge cake, elaborately constructed in the sleek shape
          of a sleek, modern skyline. The same as the model on
          Strack's desk.

<b>                         THE GOVERNOR
</b>          cuts one of the skyscrapers neatly in half with the
          knife.

<b>                         LOUD APPLAUSE
</b>          The Governor passes the piece to LOUIS STRACK JR. who
          sits at his side.

<b>                         GOVERNOR
</b>
<b>                         (TO STRACK)
</b>          As usual, Louis, you get the first
          piece of the action.
          LAUGHTER...Strack takes a bite from the building's top floors.

<b>                         GOVERNOR
</b>          Louis, I want to take this
          opportunity to express my gratitude,
          my extreme gratitude--

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          (to the crowd)
          He's talking about my campaign

<b>                         CONTRIBUTION--
</b>          LOUD LAUGHTER. The Governor waves it away.

<b>                         GOVERNOR
</b>          I'm talking about the Riverside
          development program. Louis, you've
          breathed new life into a neighborhood
          long ago lost to the democrats.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          64.
</b>
<b>                         163
</b>
<b>          163 INT. WOMAN'S POWDER ROOM
</b>
          The band is faintly heard. Julie stands before the mirror
          and practices a convincing smile. Beside her, a young
          woman pouts to the mirror as she applies lipstick. The
          woman exits through the tiled archway. Her shadow meets
          that of a man's. Julie watches the happy shadows embrace,
          kiss and move off. She stands immobilized, overcome.

<b>                         164
</b>
<b>          164 GRAND BALLROOM - THE STAIRS --NIGHT- LONG SHOT
</b>           A beautiful woman floats down a set of marble stairs.

<b>                          165
</b>
<b>          165 HEADS TURN.
</b>           It's...

<b>                          166
</b>
<b>                         166 JULIE
</b>          wearing a tight fitting, formal black dress. She
          forces a smile. She looks unhappy, but she looks good.
          She sits at a bar a little away from the party area.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Vodka and lime, please. A double.
          A business man, flushed with drink, observes her.
          He moves to the seat beside her.

<b>                         BUSINESSMAN
</b>          Drowning your sorrows, eh?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Just giving them something to swim
          around in.
          She drinks the vodka quickly. She sighs.

<b>                         BUSINESSMAN
</b>          Why don' ya tell all your troubles to
          old Jimbo?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Please remove your hand.
          The businessman has his hand on her thigh; it crawls
          upward. CONTINUED

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          65.
</b>
<b>                         166 CONTINUED 166
</b>
<b>                         ANOTHER HAND
</b>          clamps firmly down on his shoulder and spins him around.

<b>                         BUSINESSMAN
</b>
<b>                         (ANGRY)
</b>          Hey, what the--

<b>          LOUIS STRACK, JR.
</b>          stands before him. Distinguished and dapper, looking `
          better than ever. He gives his famous grin. It's worth
          a million dollars.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Ferguson, you've had too much to
          drink.

<b>                         BUSINESSMAN
</b>          Right away, Mr. Strack.
          Chastened, he beats a hasty retreat. Strack turns
          to Julie.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Thanks for getting rid of that guy.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Thank you for coming. I'm glad you're
          here.
          He takes her by the arm and starts to lead her across the
          crowded floor.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          I haven't wanted to bother you during
          your period of grief, but I have to
          know whether you've come to a decision
          regarding the Belasarius Memorandum.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          66.
</b>
<b>                         166 CONTSRUD(2)
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          The decision's been made for both of
          us. The papers were destroyed in the
          fire. I want to forget all about that--

<b>                         STRACK
</b>
<b>                         (THINKS)
</b>          The fire-- the whole thing. . I'm
          quite disturbed by it. I can't help
          but wonder.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          What?

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Do you remember when I mentioned a
          certain competitor of mine, Robert G.
          Durant?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          No. No. I've considered it. but the
          police ruled out arson. It burned
          hot. A gas fire. There was an
          acetylene leak -- the tiniest spark

<b>                         COULD HAVE--
</b>          She breaks off, getting choked up. Strack's manner is
          sympathetic and solemn.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Believe me, I am no stranger to the
          frustration and anguish that comes
          from the loss of a loved one.
          He forces himself to rally his spirits.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          My dear, there's no cure for grief

<b>                         EXCEPT TIME--
</b>          He takes-her by the hand.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          ...But there is something that eases
          the symptoms. It's called...
          He sweeps her out onto the dance floor.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          .Dancing!

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          67.
</b>
<b>                         167
</b>
<b>          167 ON THE DANCE FLOOR
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          finally smiles.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>
<b>                         UR
</b>          Julie, I was quite impressed with yo
          performance in the von Hoffenstein
          negotiations. Outstanding. I believe
          in instinct. I like yours. I want
          you to think about something. No need
          to decide now. But I'd like staff.
          you as a member of my permanent
          That's very flattering, my

<b>                         BUT SWAIN--
</b>          commitments to Pappas

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          I've already spoken to Ed Pappas.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>
<b>                         (HOTLY)
</b>          You had no right--

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Don't be childish, I had every right.
          He doesn't want to lose you--said
          he'll fight tooth and nail to keep you
          at the firm. Good! I like a good
          scrap! If it's not worth fighting for
          it's not worth having. Just consider
          that I won't be outbid. Think about

<b>                         T
</b>           it. I know you, Hastings.Yoyou're why
          ready for something g-
          we understand each other?
          (takes her arm)
          Because we both worked for it. We
          both sweated for it.
          He increases his grip and lowers his voice, taking her
          into his confidence.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>
<b>                         E
</b>          We both know what it's like to bethe o
          the bottom. Well now I'm o ridt ut.
          top, and I m offering you

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          68.
</b>
<b>                         167 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          resents being gripped and lectured to and yet... she
          senses in Strack, a power and magnetism that holds her.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          I'll consider it...
          Strack smiles. As he sweeps her around, her eye catches
          something. Her face tightens.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Mr. Strack, I don't want to alarm you,
          but who is that man, speaking with the
          Governor?

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          turns to look.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>
<b>                         (SEETHING)
</b>          What's bg doing here?
          SWISH PAN from Strack's frozen expression... through a
          blur of dancers to:

<b>                         ROBERT DURANT
</b>          chatting with the governor. He catches Strack's eye.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Holds eye contact for a moment.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          That, my dear, is Robert Durant.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          smiles.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene Numbers 2-17-89)

<b>          69.
</b>
<b>          168 EXT RICK'S APARTMENT 168
</b>          Rick's car pulls in. He climbs out and walks toward the
          front door of his building. The sound of a foot on gravel.
          He glances behind him.

<b>                         169 RICK'S CAR 169
</b>          in the shadowy lot. Nothing else.

<b>                         170 RICK 170
</b>          turns his head swiftly to a passing shadow.

<b>                         171 EMPTY STREET 171
</b>          Wind gusts dead leaves across the pavement.

<b>                         172 RICK 172
</b>          shudders. Shaking off his nerves. He fishes about in
          his breast pocket and removes a bottle of prescription
          pills.

<b>                         RICK
</b>          I gotta take it easy.
          He pops two into his mouth, and swallows them dry.He
          enters the apartment building.

<b>          173 INT. RICK'S APARTMENT -- BEDROOM -- LATER 173
</b>
           Rick lies asleep. The TV is on in the background, playing

<b>          LOUD STATIC. CAMERA SLOWLY PANS TO...
</b>
<b>                         5174
</b>
<b>          S174 WOODEN BLINDS
</b>          The wind gusts, causing the shutters to clatter.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          70.
</b>
<b>                         175
</b>
<b>          175 A CRACKLE OF ELECTRICITY
</b>          as the TV snaps 'off.

<b>                         176
</b>
<b>                         176 RICK
</b>          jerks awake. The place is suddenly totally dark.

<b>                         RICK
</b>
<b>                         (NERVES FRYING)
</b>          Who's there?
          He gets up, looks around.
          A small and evil laugh reverberatesvin the aguelydhumanssit'st
          chills Rick to the core. Guttural,
          the fire-ravaged laugh of the Darkman.
          Rick calls to the shadows;

<b>                         RICK
</b>
<b>                         (HYSTERICAL)
</b>          What do you want?

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>
<b>                         OU
</b>          We're gonna play a little game. It's tell
          called show and tell. First, y
          me everything.

<b>                         177
</b>
<b>          177 FROM THE BLACKNESS
</b>           Something charred and twisted emerges. It's Darforn's n the
           burnt skeletal claw. A hideous sight, see
          first time. A deranged digit da tends to stroke Rick's
          face, then retracts into the

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          Uh huh. Then I show you... how to
          scream.
          A terrifying pause. Then:
          Rick SCREAMS as his legs fall out from under him. CAMERA

<b>          PANS DOWN TO REVEAL:
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          71.
</b>
<b>          178 A SKELETAL CLAW 178
</b>           dragging a kicking, screaming Rick under the bed.

<b>                          179
</b>
<b>          179 UNDER THE BED - HORIZONTAL VIEW OF BANDAGED DARXMAN
</b>          nose to nose with Rick. Darkman peels the bandages from
          his mouth to reveal a gaping maw of burnt, crooked teeth.

<b>                         DAR MAN
</b>
<b>                         (FIRE-RAVAGED
</b>
<b>                         VOICE)
</b>          You always knew there was something
          like me under the bed.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>          180 INT. RICK'S APARTMENT - LATER 180
</b>

<b>          A CORNER OF RICK'S ROOM - PARTIALLY DEMOLISHED
</b>          A badly beaten Rick hurls through frame and slams
          into the corner.

<b>                         181
</b>
<b>          181 DARKMAN'S SKELETAL FISTS
</b>          smash into the wall like flying pile drivers around

<b>                         RICK'S HEAD:
</b>
<b>          SMASH!
</b>
<b>          SMASH!
</b>
<b>          SMASH!
</b>
<b>          SMASH!
</b>          Plaster cracks and flies. Rick's bleeding face twitches
          in fear, on sanity's edge.

<b>                         RICK
</b>
<b>                         (WHIMPERING)
</b>          But I gave you the names. Where they
          lived... I told you everything.
          Darkman's eyes leer at us.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          72.
</b>
<b>                         182 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>
<b>                         (SYMPATHETICALLY)
</b>          I know you did...
          The eyes come close. Closer.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          (with dark joy)
          .but let's pretend you didn't.
          His skeletal claw clamps down over the camera lens-

<b>          BLACKNESS.
</b>
<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         182
</b>
<b>          182 EXT. NIGHT - ROW OF STONE GARGOYLES
</b>
          perched high atop a building. The bandaged Darkman is
          also there, flanked by the stone creatures. He is
          ringing his hands together in angst.
          Fire ravaged voice:

<b>                         DARINAN
</b>          I've been bad.
          He looks to the moody sky. Inky clouds drift past
          overhead.

<b>                         183
</b>
<b>          183 INT. JULIE'S APARTMENT - BEDROOM - NIGHT
</b>
          The light of a street-lamp dimly illuminates Julie,
          asleep in bed. She sighs in her sleep and gently her dream.
          turns away from some disquieting presence in
          Or is it in the room? We hear the click of a lock, wind
          rushes in... then stillness.

<b>          A DEFORMED SHADOW
</b>          crawls along the wall, dropping down over Julie's form.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          13.
</b>
<b>                         183 CONTINUED
</b>           THE DAR1N A few
          swathed in bandages, staring.
          stands over the bed, y la over the age' But
          chords- from Love in the Dark p
          distorted now, ominous.

<b>                         DARKNAN
</b>          reaches out and delicately touches Julie's hair with a
          skeletal claw--a twisted reprise of the earlierher sscene. in
          instinctively hand.
          Julie shivers and
          Darkaâºan quickly y

<b>                         R
</b>          a long time. We move in on
          Darkm,an stands motionless for
          his face. The bandages below his eyes are moist. The
          Darkman brushes at the tear-stained bandages with the
          back of his gnarled hand.

<b>                         DARIOMAN
</b>
<b>                         (A WHISPER)
</b>          Julie...
          Julie continues to sleep.

<b>                         DARK 4AN
</b>          I need you.
          He glances down to...

<b>          CLOSE SHOT - PHOTO OF PEYTON AND JULIE
</b>          He tries to brush away the burn-matter obring his
          face in the photograph. He closes his eyes Then

<b>                         QUIETLY;
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>           my face back. Even
          I've got to have
          if it's only for ninety-nine minutes.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          suddenly sits up from a dream and cries;

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton...'

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          74.
</b>
<b>                         183
</b>
<b>                         183 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         HER POV
</b>          The curtains flutter in the wind. She is alone.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         184
</b>
<b>          184 EXT. CITY STREET - MORNING
</b>

<b>          DAR MAN'S POV - OVER A SHOPPING CART
</b>          People give him a wide berth on the sidewalk as they
          pass by.

<b>                         A MOTHER
</b>          Protectively pulls her child back, away from the cart.
          We turn off, into.

<b>                         AN ALLEYWAY
</b>          as it twists, and grows narrow.

<b>          TRACKING WITH THE SHOPPING CART
</b>          As it winds through the alley. It's filled with charred
          electronics salvaged from the wreckage of Peyton's lab;
          beakers, tubing, computer parts, walkman tape recorder,
          the holographic cylinder and bio-press. The shopping
          cart bangs to a halt against a CONDEMNED sign upon a
          steel door.

<b>          A BOLT CUTTER
</b>          is raised from the cart.

<b>          SNIP.
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          75.
</b>
<b>                         185
</b>
<b>                         185 INT WAREHOUSE
</b>
<b>                          BLACKNESS
</b>           &wylight,

<b>                          BRIHT
</b>           The steel door slides open, dletting eserted iwa rehouse
           revealing the interior

<b>                          THE DARKMAN
</b>           appears silhouetted in the doorway. He pushes the
           sh e p cart into the warehouse and disappears into
           s into a shaft of light. CAMERA past
           th t he darkness. darkness. He steps ra tt y
           up his old an.
           to andaged f
           dangling gauze,
           He surveys the cavernous interior.

<b>          A SPOTTED CAT
</b>           down stroke it. The cat
           meows at his feet. He off with reaches shtoe
           scratches him and runs

<b>          LONG SHOT - DARIN
</b>          looks about the place, satisfied.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          (in a fire-

<b>                         RAVAGED VOICE)
</b>          Home.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>          DEEP IN THE GROUND
</b>          A flash-light clicks on revealing an elaborate system
          of high voltage cylinders...

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          carefully connects one nd ofnanrinsulated cord to the
          metal base of one of the Y

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          76.
</b>
<b>                         185
</b>
<b>                         185 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>          DARIMAN' S BANDAGED HAND
</b>          Throws a switch.

<b>          A SINGLE BULB
</b>          flickers on in the far rear of the warehouse casting the
          Darkman's face half in light, half shadow.
          With his skeletal claw, he strokes his bandaged chin.

<b>                         DART AN
</b>          All I need is one, clear, picture.
          He moves to a salvaged photograph album.

<b>          AS HE FLIPS THROUGH THE PAGES
</b>          we see that most of the photographs are bubbled with
          charcoal. The few that aren't show Peyton's face only by
          partially--one cut off by someone's shoulder, another e
          the frame of the picture... The last picture eyes Juli er
          on his shoulder laughing--coveripg Peyt
          hands.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          throws the album against the wall. He turns back to the
          original burned photo.

<b>                         DARXMAN
</b>          This'll have to do.

<b>                         DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>                         186
</b>
<b>          186 TNT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT
</b>          OUR VIEW moves across a slummy version of Dr. Peyton
          Westlake's lab--reassembled by Darkman.

<b>                         DAR MW
</b>          slides the charred photo of himself through the input
          slot of a computer.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         2-17-89)
</b>           (Revised Some is

<b>           77.
</b>
<b>                          V187
</b>
<b>          V187 ON THE SCREEN
</b>           appears a line drawing of the photograph. As Peyton
           punches in information:

<b>                          OMIT 188
</b>
<b>                         IS$ OMIT
</b>
<b>          P189 DARKMN LAB H189.
</b>
<b>          H189 A HOLOGRAPH OF PEYTON'S FACE
</b>          materializes in a slightly scorched glass cylinder,
          revolving in sync to the image on the computer screen.
          The face is partially charred, malformed--like the
          photograph, except in three dimensions.

<b>                         V190
</b>
<b>                         V190 DARXMAN
</b>           taps in data that appears on the computer screen:
           Extrapolate left lower quadrant "C" to lower
           quadrant "D." Extrapolate quadrant "F" to
           quadrant "E." Ignore light variables.
           8.7 millimoles.
           Scale: 1.38 millimoles
          Etc.
          The computer HUMS AND BEEPS... The screen blanks and the
          following information appears.
          Reconstitution will take 71 hours and 57
          minutes.

<b>                         P191
</b>          P191 OUR VIEW curves up to:

<b>                          H191
</b>
<b>          H191 THE HOLOGRAPH
</b>          Before our very eyes, it changes slightly--growing
          imperceptibly more detailed, sharper.

<b>                         DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>                         192
</b>
<b>                         192 DARKMAN
</b>          Preparing a batch of liquid skin. He peers down into
          the microscope. One hand holding something just off
          frame. Darkaman lifts his head and sniffs at a wisp of
          smoke. CAMERA PANS WITH HIS

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         2-17-89)
</b>          (Revised scene numbers

<b>          78.
</b>
<b>                         192
</b>
<b>                         192 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>           GLANCE TO...
</b>           His OUTSTRETCHED HAND
           boney fingers poke through the bandages as he gently skin over the flame of a
           swirls a test t He to no tice is hand
          has l f ailed
          B Bunsen unsen burner.
           is burning.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>           and studie s the
           pulls his handaY ois the lack o o ormal rmal

<b>                          S HIS
</b>           smoldering digits. n

<b>                         HE ETLY;
</b>          sensation. Qui

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          My hands.. They took my hands.
          He sits on the lab stool studying his charred palms in
           the dark. P193

<b>          P193 DARKMAN LAB H 193
</b>
<b>                         H 193 HOLOGRAM
</b>          In the time that has passed, the image of Peyton's face
          is growing more

<b>                         194
</b>
<b>          194 THE COMPUTER SCREEN BESIDE IT READS;
</b>           Reconstruction will take 61 hours and
           11 minutes.

<b>           CAMERA PANS TO.
</b>
<b>                          195
</b>
<b>                         195 DARKMAN
</b>          sitting on the lab stool in the exact same position, in
          still studying his gnarled knuckles. Sunlight pours quickly
          the lab from a small ceiling window. He turns bles up from his

<b>                         A
</b>          and faces the cat. A small, soundh.u
          ravaged larynx; A deep,

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene numbers 2-17-89)

<b>           79.
</b>
<b>                          196
</b>
<b>          196 EXT. ONASSIS CONEY ISLAND RESTAURANT- DAY
</b>

<b>                         COMPRESSED SHOT
</b>          through window of restaurant. The extreme telephoto
          shows us Pauly eating a chili dog at a booth. He's
          looking for somebody.
          SKIP and GUZMAN
          enter the restaurant and take the seats across from him.
          Guzman slides a briefcase under the table to Pauly. Pauly
          downs the butt end of the chili dog and washes it down with
          a Maalox chaser. He takes the briefcase and exits.
          CLICK--freezes all three as they exit in black and white.

<b>          197 REVERSE - EXT ALLEY - DAY 197
</b>
<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          disguised as a bagman, in an alley across the street
          from the restaurant, peering through a camera.

<b>                         HIS POV
</b>
<b>                         197A
</b>          197A Skip and Guzman going in one direction, Pauly in another.
          CLICK--freezes the moment.

<b>                         197B
</b>          197E CLICK--Pauly moving away, carrying the briefcase.
          CLICK--he looks to his right, and
          CLICK--to his left.

<b>                         197C
</b>          197C CLOSE-UP: PAULY'S HAND swinging slightly as it carries
          the briefcase. The final CLICK of the shutter is heard

<b>                         ON THE
</b>
<b>           MATCHING CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                          198
</b>
<b>                         198 PAULY'S HAND
</b>          Well back to reveal it is now a photograph soaking in a
          shallow tray of developing fluid.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         2-17-89)
</b>          (Revised Scene Numbers

<b>          80.
</b>
<b>                         198
</b>
<b>                         198 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                          THE CAT
</b>           t a as
           enters frame, atop a lab table. Camera tracks Si ac
           ne. On an other e
          it passes between rows of photographs of Pauly'
          hands which hang dripping from a clothesli
          clothes-line are pictures of all the other gang members,
          taken at different places and times.

<b>                         Â¢
</b>          The cat leaps straight through. P198

<b>          P198 DARKMAN LAB
</b>
<b>                         H198
</b>
<b>          H198 THE TURNING HOLOGRAPH OF PEYTON'S HEAD --
</b>          the features more defined now, more recognizable--

<b>                         199
</b>
<b>                         199 THE CAT
</b>          lands on another lab table, where it suddenly halts and
          arches it's spotted back as a bandaged. hand sets down an
          opened can of tuna. The cat moves to the tuna but looks
          up fearfully.

<b>                         200
</b>
<b>          200 THE BANDAGED RAND
</b>          moves. close to pet the cat.

<b>                         201
</b>
<b>                         201 THE CAT
</b>          scratches at the hand and spits. The hand withdraws.
          The cat eats the tuna warily.

<b>                         202
</b>
<b>          202 COMPUTER INPUT SLOT
</b>          Front and side-view photos of Pauly's hand are sucked
          into a second charred and patched-up computer.

<b>                         V203
</b>
<b>          V203 ON COMPUTER SCREEN
</b>          's hand is being filled in with
          A line drawing of Pauly
          contours and subtle shading.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised SceTe Is 2-17-89)

<b>           81.
</b>
<b>                          P204
</b>
<b>          P204 DARK MN LAB
</b>
<b>                          H204
</b>
<b>          H204 WITHIN THE SLIGHTLY SCORCHED GLASS CYLINDER
</b>          A hologram of Pauly's hand flickers to life, turning in
          sync with the one on the computer screen.

<b>                         205
</b>
<b>          205 THE SALVAGED BIO-PRESS
</b>          Synthetic skin is sprayed onto the surface of the press.
          The pins in the press rise to computer-determined
          heights, molding the hardening synthetic skin.

<b>                         206
</b>
<b>          206 DARKMAN'S BANDAGED HANDS
</b>          enter frame; he unwraps the bandages.

<b>                         207
</b>
<b>          207 USED HAND BANDAGES
</b>          form a pile atop the lab table.

<b>                         208
</b>
<b>                         208 A FORCEPS
</b>           removes what looks like a wet, flesh colored surgical
           glove from the Bio-Press.

<b>                          209
</b>          209 The nasty bone digits of Darkman's hand snake into the
          glove.

<b>                         210
</b>
<b>                         210 DARKMAN
</b>          smooths the wrinkled synthetic skin and holds up his
          "new" hand. It is a flawless imitation of Pauly's.
          He raises it to his eyes. They-shine fiercely.

<b>                         211
</b>
<b>          211 DARKMAN' S "NEW" HAND
</b>          begins unraveling the bandages that cover his head.

<b>                         212
</b>
<b>                         212 THE CAT
</b>          is looking up from a defensive crouch. Back arched, it
          starts to back away.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          82.
</b>
<b>                         213
</b>
<b>                         213 COMPUTER KEYBOARD
</b>
<b>                         E
</b>           a nd one king
           One "Pauly tthe"ke board.siT edsoundeofnbonewst
           together r a h ving. ri
           y and unner
           plastic. is strange

<b>                          214
</b>
<b>          214 ON COMPUTER MONITOR
</b>          A line drawing of Pauly's face appears. It turns into:

<b>                         215
</b>
<b>          215 A MATCHING CLOSE SHOT---THE REAL PAULY
</b>          in his bed sleeping. A shadow passes over him.

<b>                         216
</b>
<b>          23.6 A GLOVED HAND
</b>
<b>                          ANADS
</b>           ief over hi
           presses a chlorofrmedOhgnï¿½Theh alarm clocksRlNGSh
           nose. Be struggles. The
           Pauly sinks into a deep chloroform from hisdfaceï¿½
           gloved hand removes the
          The only sound is the TICKING of the clock.
          We PULL BACK to reveal that we are:

<b>                         217
</b>
<b>          217 INT. PAULY'S BEDROOM - DAWN
</b>
           The bandaged figure of the Darkman stands over an
           unconscious Pauly.

<b>                          218
</b>
<b>                         218 DARKMAN
</b>
<b>                          IT WITH
</b>
<b>                          THE
</b>           removes a suitcase shutï¿½t.From hiskratty b lack
           Pauly's clothes, latches

<b>                          Â¢
</b>          overcoat, he removes.

<b>                         219
</b>
<b>          219 TWO FIRST CLASS AIRLINE TICKETS
</b>           He places them atop the suitcase.

<b>                          220
</b>
<b>          220 INT. PAULY'S BATHROOM - DAY
</b>

<b>                          R- HE
</b>
<b>                          FACE
</b>           The mummified Darkman isreflected
           carefully unwraps the than it
           is 's , the complexion a
          sh sould be . PTheyskin aulittle ï¿½tighter
           little better.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          83.
</b>
<b>                         221
</b>
<b>                         2 21 DARXMANIPAULY
</b>          pulls the stop-watch from his pocket and starts it.

<b>                         222
</b>
<b>                         222 DIGITAL STOP-WATCH
</b>          It TICKS off the seconds.

<b>                         223
</b>
<b>                         223 DARKMANJPAULY
</b>
<b>                          HE
</b>           s t e k c o P to watch a handfulrof Pauly'ss
           the medicine cabinet
           cologne.

<b>                          CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                          224
</b>
<b>           - DAY -
</b>
<b>          224 INT. ONASSIS CONEY ISLAND RESTAURANT
</b>
          Darkman/Pauly sits alone at the booth. He checks the
          artificial skin on his hand, then glances to his stop-
          watch.

<b>                         225
</b>
<b>                         225 DIGITAL STOP-WATCH
</b>          It reads: 35 minutes. He pockets the watch as:

<b>                         226
</b>
<b>          226 SKIP AND GUZMAN
</b>          enter. They take seats across from him. Skip seems
          angry.
          SKIP is.
          Durant wants to know where Rick
          He's really hot about it--really hot.
          Don't ask me why--the old man really
          likes Rick. You know
          where Rick is?
          He is looking at Darkman/Pauly.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          84.
</b>
<b>                         1
</b>
<b>                         226 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         DARKMAN/PAULY
</b>          shrugs an exaggerated "haw-would-I-know?" Guzman is too
          angry to notice.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          Durant piss me off. How de hell
          should we know where Rick is? What
          are we, de baby-sitter?
          He places the briefcase on the floor and is about to
          slide it across, but hesitates. He eyes Darkman/Pauly
          suspiciously.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          You okay, Pauly? You looking funny.

<b>                         DARXMAN/PAULY
</b>          shrugs, reaches into his pocket, pulls out a bottle of
          Maalox, and takes a slug.
          Guzman slides the briefcase across the floor to
          Darkman/Pauly.
          Darkman/Pauly, without saying a word, takes the briefcase
          and exits.

<b>                         SKIP
</b>          What's with him?

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         227
</b>
<b>          227 INT. PAULY'S BEDROOM - DAY PAULY? DARXMAN/PAULY?
</b>
          blinks several times, stares quizzically around him,
          looking confused. PAULY'S POV--His own bedroom, blurry,
          spinning slightly. As the room starts to settle:

<b>                         228
</b>
<b>          228 CRASH!
</b>          The door is kicked off its hinges revealing GUZMAN.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          85.
</b>
<b>                         229
</b>
<b>                         229 PAULY
</b>          is sitting up in bed. AlthoughPhhets just hwaking s c
          is dressed in a suit and tie. lothes,
          then looks quizzically up at Guzman.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          lifts Pauly from the bed and shoves him into a chair.
          Pauly looks up to see:

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          glaring down at him.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Pauly... we've been very concerned
          about. You.
          Pauly doesn't have a clue. But the display of muscle
          isn't lost on him. He clutches at his sore head and

<b>                         MOANS:
</b>
<b>                         PAULY
</b>          Hey, Mr. Durant...

<b>                         (GLANCES AT
</b>
<b>                         CLOCK) -
</b>          y, I guess
          I musts overslept. I'm sorr
          I missed the pick-up, huh?

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Where is the money, Pauly?

<b>                         PAULY
</b>          (desperate) p.
          What money? I didn't make the pick-u
          Durant crosses to the suitcase and picks up one of the
          airline tickets. His smile is strained.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          86.
</b>
<b>                         229 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Rio... And first class. How
          delightful.
          (picks up other

<b>                         TICKET)
</b>          n A , and one for Rick. Well, this
           explains his disappearance.
          Durant glances to Guzman who opens Pauly's PACKED SUITCASE.

<b>                         PAULY
</b>          Hey, I don't know nothing about
          that... I--

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Where is the money, Pauly?

<b>                         PAULY
</b>          What money?! I swear to God, Mr.
          Durant, I didn't make the pick-uP! I
          been right here sleepin'... Jesus, I
          swear to God!!

<b>                         230
</b>
<b>                         230 DURANT
</b>          tucks the tickets into Pauly's jacket.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Well, Pauly, I wouldn't want you to
          miss your flight.

<b>                         213
</b>
<b>          231 EXT. HIGH RISE - DAY
</b>

<b>          PAULY - STUNT DOUBLE
</b>
<b>          CRASH!!!
</b>          Pauly CRASHES through the window on the 23rd floor.

<b>                         232
</b>
<b>          232 EXT. HIGH RISE - DAY
</b>

<b>                         PAULY DUMMY
</b>          His body twists in the air, hurtling toward the ground.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>           (Revised scene numbers 2-17-89)

<b>                          87
</b>
<b>          B233 CLOSE ON PAULY - BLUE SCREEN 8233
</b>           Falling, trying to find the air to shriek as.

<b>                          P234
</b>
<b>          P234 THE SKYSCRAPER
</b>          blurs past.

<b>          235 PAULY'S P.O.V 235
</b>          the sidewalk rushes up at us with increasing velocity...

<b>          236 EXT. STREET - DAY 236
</b>
           Pauly's body hits the sidewalk with a THUD. His dead
           eyes stare out at us, bewildered.

<b>          237 A SHOCKED WOMAN 237
</b>           looks up from Pauly's dead face to a nearby park-bench.

<b>                          238
</b>
<b>          238 SHOCKED WOMAN'S P.O.V.
</b>          PANNING from dead Pauly to living Pauly/Darkman, who sits
          and watches calmly.

<b>                         239
</b>
<b>                         239 THE WOMAN
</b>          SHRIEKS and SHRIEKS. She has to be. restrained by the
          crowd.

<b>                         240
</b>
<b>                         240 PAULY/DARKMAN
</b>          Turns away from the crowd of gavkers gathering around
          the body. His eyes widen in alarm. His synthetic cheek
          is melting where the bright sunlight hits it. A bubbling
          skin blister cracks open and smokes. His hand covers the
          blister. He pulls the stopwatch from his pocket.

<b>                         241
</b>
<b>                         241 THE STOPWATCH
</b>          It reads: 98 minutes

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          88.
</b>
<b>                         {
</b>
<b>                         242
</b>
<b>                         242 PAULY/DARM
</b>           still clutching. the briefcase of cash, jogs into the
           cool dark of an alley. A thin wisp of smoke trails behind to the darkness.
           him as-he disappears in

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         243
</b>
<b>          243 INT. JULIE'S APT.
</b>
          Julie is shrugging off her coat to reveal a stunning
          evening dress. She heads across the room toward a
          rolling bar.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          I want to thank you for a lovely
          evening, Louis. It's been a long time
          since I've been able to really enjoy
          myself--to forget... Can I offer you a
          drink?
          We pan the room to reveal Strack, just inside the front
          door.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Thank you, whiskey neat.
          He takes off his coat.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          ...Would it be all right if I used
          your telephone?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          It's on the etagere...
          Strack has already found it and is dialing.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>
<b>                         DID
</b>          Franz... Louis Strack here what
          gold close at in Zurich?
          play ...for fifty-
           Insai ou nd Kru
           nd Krug rrandsawhe the market
          th ousa e n
          orning.
          opens in the m
          Strack. hangs up the phone and turns towards Julie.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          89.
</b>
<b>                         243 CONTIRU
</b>
<b>                          STRACK
</b>           E haven't felt this alive since the
           days of the Silver Puts and
           t o remember Calls.
           'Course you're too you

<b>                          AN OVER-THE-
</b>          that. I guess I'm jus
          hill financier trying to recapture a
          few moments from his glory days.
          Julie hands Strack a drink.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Don't be childish, Louis, it's
          unbecoming to fish for compliments.
          Strack laughs good-naturedly.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>           like that ine. You
           away fanything.
          don't eleame get
           He sighs and sits down on the sofa, sips his drink and

<b>                          T
</b>          looks across at Julie.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>
<b>                         NK
</b>          You know, as much as I'd like to thi
          differently, i suppose I'm not above
          the occasional childish bid for
          attention.
          Juliesmiles.

<b>                          JULIE
</b>           Like anyone else.

<b>                          STRACK
</b>           Like anyone else indeed. in all
           respects. It's difficult, somettiimess,
           being in a position of power--people
           defer to you, people tell you what short , ,
           they think you want o
           ur humanity... â¢
          they rob you of y
          you'll accuse me of pleading for
          sympathy again.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          No, I understand...

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         243 CONTINUED(2)
</b>
<b>                         STRACK
</b>          turns away, setting his drink on a coaster. He
          notices Peyton's gift.

<b>          THE MUSIC BOX
</b>          He opens the top. The LOVE IN THE DARK THEME plays.

<b>          JULIE AND STRACK
</b>          listen. Julie is affected by it. She sets down the drink.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          ..Were you ever married, Louis?

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Yes. Once upon a time. Married and
          in love -- deeply, deeply in love...

<b>                         JULIE
</b>
<b>                         I
</b>          What happened?

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          I lost her...

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          I'm sorry.
          Strack strains to conceal the bitterness of his grief.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Private aircraft. over the Smokeys.
          Painless. Quick. utterly pointless.
          You can fight a disease. Another man?
          You can fight that too. But this...
          Quietly,_within himself:

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene #s 2-17-89)

<b>          91.
</b>
<b>                         243 CONTMOUE D (3 )
</b>
<b>                         STRACK
</b>          ...I don't like things I can't fight.
          Their eyes meet, both united by loss.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          It must have been a terrible time. I
          wondered how you understood. About
          me. You've been very patient. And
          very kind.
          Strack smiles warmly. He takes her hand.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          God help us when there's no more room
          in this world for a little kindness...

<b>                         244
</b>
<b>                         244 PULL BACK
</b>          Through the window of Julie's apartment as Strack draws
          Julie into an embrace, to reveal:

<b>                         244A
</b>
<b>          244A THE DAREMAN
</b>          Hidden in the shadowy bushes. His face is flooded with
          pain.

<b>                          DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>                          S245
</b>
<b>          S245 INT. DARKMAN'S WAREHOUSE
</b>

<b>                         SKELETAL FINGERS
</b>           impatiently TAP!-TAP!-TAPl upon the lab table.

<b>                          CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         246
</b>
<b>                         246 AN EYE
</b>          It fills the screen. The pupil a black abyss. The
          capillaries red rivers.

<b>                         CUTTO: -
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         2-17-89)
</b>          (Revised Scene Is

<b>          92.
</b>
<b>                         R
</b>
<b>                         247
</b>
<b>          247 SYNTHETIC SKIN MOLECULES
</b>          enlarged a million times, configured in an agar
          protoplasm bath.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         248
</b>
<b>                         248 THE EYE
</b>          floating, the pupil darting nervously about.

<b>                         DARXM (VO)
</b>
<b>                         (FIRE-RAVAGED
</b>          voice) le .rema-
          Okay... okay... remain stab

<b>                         249
</b>
<b>          249 SYNTHETIC SKIN MOLECULES
</b>          fragment.

<b>                         250
</b>
<b>                         250 DIGITAL STOPWATCH
</b>
<b>                         T
</b>           It reads: 99 minutes.

<b>                          S251
</b>
<b>                          5251 SKELETAL FINGERS
</b>           al.
           halt in mid tap. CAMERA PULLS BACK to reve

<b>                          252
</b>
<b>                         252 DARFMAN
</b>           frozen, above the microscope.

<b>                          253
</b>
<b>                         253 THE CAT
</b>          MEOWS in fear.

<b>                         5254
</b>
<b>                         5254 DARKMAN
</b>
<b>                         CLU TCH
</b>
<b>                         SHOUTS
</b>          looks at his carbonized claws in disgust. They
          at his bandaged skull. He stands suddenly and
          to the empty warehouse:

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene #s 2-17-89)

<b>          93.
</b>
<b>          6.3
</b>
<b>                         DABBXAN
</b>
<b>                         S255
</b>
<b>          I'VE BEEN ROBBED! THOSE BASTARDS
</b>          TOOK... everything.

<b>                         256
</b>
<b>                         256 THE C=
</b>          arches its back in fear.

<b>                         DABXMAN
</b>
<b>                         (ANGUISH)
</b>          .she couldn't even bear to look at
          me . . .

<b>                         S257
</b>
<b>                         S257 DARKMM
</b>          spins sharply to the cat, the vein on his temple
          pulsates.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>
<b>          .WHAT AM I, SOME KIND OF CIRCUS
</b>
<b>          FREAK!?
</b>
<b>                         I 46
</b>
<b>                         258 THE CAT
</b>           bounds away with a cry, seeking shelter behind a
           crate.

<b>                          S259
</b>
<b>                         S259 DARKMAN
</b>           calls after it;

<b>                          DAR114M
</b>          Is that it?! Maybe I should be
          wearing some funny little hat!
          He does an angry jig for the cat.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          Pay five bucks. SEE THE DANCING

<b>          FREAK!
</b>
<b>                         260
</b>
<b>                         260 THE CAT
</b>          pokes its head out to watch.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised scene nuders 2-17-89) 94.

<b>                         261
</b>
<b>                         261 DARKMAI
</b>           rips a water pipe from the wall with a terrible The
           wrenching. sound., Water gushes out. is an
           shatters crates with the pipe and
           again, but halts as he sees his reflection in the
           growing puddle.

<b>                          S262 -
</b>          S262 DARIQ'iANâ¢S REFLECTION
           in the puddle. It is the image of a madman. S263

<b>                         S263 DARKMAN
</b>          staggers to a post, his-bandaged face caught half in
          light and shadow--a man at war with inner demons.
          He slams his head against the post.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>
<b>                         I'VE GOT--
</b>
<b>          BAM!
</b>
<b>                         DARMAN
</b>
<b>                         --TO GET--
</b>
<b>          BAM!
</b>
<b>                         DABXMAN
</b>
<b>          --CONTROL!
</b>
<b>          BAM!
</b>          He takes in a deep breath and concentrates on his.

<b>                         264
</b>
<b>                         264 HAND
</b>          He forces it to.unclench.

<b>                         DARIQ(AN
</b>          I got to keep a lid on it.
          The pipe falls.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          95.
</b>
<b>          S2L,
</b>
<b>                         $265 DARKMAN
</b>          moves to a cooler light.

<b>                         DAR MAN
</b>
<b>                         (QUIET)
</b>          Control the rage. Analyze. Wait.
          Think objectively. I'm a scientist.
          I'm a scientist.
          He stares at.

<b>                          266
</b>
<b>          266 THE HUNDREDS OF LAB SHEETS
</b>          the piles of discarded petri dishes.

<b>                         S267
</b>
<b>                         S267 DARKMAN
</b>          With less conviction:

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          .I'm... a scientist.

<b>                         SUDDENLY:
</b>
<b>          BEEP, BEEP, BEEP...
</b>           Darkman turns. CAMERA SWISHES; At the and of the lab:

<b>                          268
</b>
<b>          268 THE COMPUTER SCREEN
</b>          flashes a message--RECONSTITUTION COMPLETE. At the

<b>                         SAME TIME:
</b>
<b>                         P269
</b>
<b>          P269 DARIMM LAB
</b>
<b>                         H269
</b>
<b>          H269 THE HOLOGRAM
</b>          of Peyton's head ceases to revolve. Every element of
          Peyton's face is exactly as we remember it. He smiles
          charmingly at Darkman.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>           (Revised Scene is 2-17-89)

<b>           96.
</b>          P2 7 0 DARKMAN LAB P2r

<b>          H270 DAR 'IAN 11270
</b>          moves toward his old self, staring in wonder. Love JII
          th Dark theme comes on the sound track as we:

<b>                         DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>          271 EXT. CEMETERY - DAY - WIDE SHOT OF JULIE 272
</b>
          walking along a quiet path. THE MUSIC continues...Julie
          stops. She stares misty-eyed at...

<b>                         272 PEYTON'S MARKER 272
</b>          Julie reaches down and places a wreath of flowers on it.
          Her eyes tear.

<b>          VOICE (O.S.)
</b>          Julie.
          She spins to face this intruder into her quiet grief.

<b>                         273 HER POV 273
</b>          Peyton--his face restored,' the Peyton she knew --
          smiling warmly at her.

<b>                         274 JULIE 274
</b>          Staring. She takes a step towards him. She stops,
          immobilized. Her jaw drops. Her eyes roll up into her
          head and she faints.

<b>          QUICK FADE TO BLACK.
</b>
<b>          275 QUICK FADE IN; PEYTON 275
</b>          is gently slapping the side of Julie's face. Gradually
          Julie regains consciousness.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>
<b>                         (THICKLY)
</b>          Peyton... Peyton...

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          97.
</b>
<b>                         275 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                          PEYTON
</b>           Julie...

<b>                          JULIE
</b>          Is it really...?

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          I--I'm sorry... I didn't know how to
          tell you...

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          I thought you were dead...

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>
<b>                         DEAD
</b>           I was in a burn ward -- wa s burned. a ae-
          to the world. I
          Bad.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          You look the same. You look fine.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>           I am the same. I an fine. I...

<b>                          276
</b>
<b>                         27 6 OMIT
</b>
<b>                         "277
</b>          277 He glances at his watch.
          He grows intense. The Darkman stares through his blue
          eyes.

<b>                         I PEYTON
</b>
<b>                          NEEDED
</b>
<b>                          NEEDED TO
</b>           e the Z same w with
           know if things could i

<b>                         B
</b>          us.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Of course they can. But I don't
          understand. Where ---

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          e please, rythi I tell You
           justl need little

<b>                          VE RYTH'
</b>          time.

<b>                         278
</b>
<b>                         278 PEYTON'S EYES
</b>          widen in alarm. He turns one side of his face sharply
          away from Julie.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          98.
</b>
<b>                         279
</b>
<b>          279 HIS SYNTHETIC CHEEK
</b>          is melting where the bright sunlight has burned through r
          the dapple of graveyard trees. A bubbling skin bliste
          cracks open and smokes. His hand covers it.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Sold me, Peyton. Hold me and never
          let me go. I've been so unhappy and I
          want you to hold me forever.

<b>                         280
</b>
<b>                         280 PEYTON
</b>          is lurching to his feet.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Sweetheart. . I'm sorry.

<b>                         281
</b>
<b>                         281 JULIE
</b>          is stunned, bewildered.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton...

<b>                         282
</b>
<b>          282 HER P.O.V. - LOW ANGLE - PEYTON
</b>           is already hotfooting it away across the Graveyard, one g
          hand clamped to his face, plunging on towards the soothin
          darkness of the woods.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         283
</b>
<b>          283 INT. A BEDROOM
</b>
          The lights are romantically dim.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          99.
</b>
<b>                         283
</b>
<b>                         283 CONTINUID
</b>
<b>          PEYTON AID JULIE
</b>          move into each others' arms.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton, it's like you were never gone.
          I'm happy again, and it's like the
          time in between never happened.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          It never happened. It was a bad
          dream.
          They kiss passionately. ve in the Dark theme comes on.

<b>                         OUR VIEW
</b>          circles the lovers... as we pass around Julie over to
          Peyton -- who is no longer Peyton, but transformed into:

<b>                         THE DARKMAN
</b>          his horrible scarred face pressed against Julie's.
          .then lets out an
          Julie's eyes open. She reels back.

<b>          EAR-PIERCING SCREAM OF PRIMAL TERROR.
</b>
<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         284
</b>
<b>                         284 THE DARKMAN
</b>          bolting up from sleep, sweating though his facial
          bandages. The vein in his temple throbbing, eyes livid
          as a beast's.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         285
</b>
<b>          285 INT. DURANT'S HOUSE
</b>
          Professional hands busily performing the process of
          .Durant, cradling a
          taxidermy. CAMERA PANS UP TO.
          telephone to his shoulder, talking as he works.

<b>          DURANT (O.S.)
</b>
<b>                         (GRUFF)
</b>          It's Durant. Robert G. Durant.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         285
</b>
<b>                         285 CONTIN
</b>          He grasps a offscreen object with the tweezers andit
          removes it from the formaldehyde solution. He pats
          dry with a white cloth.

<b>          DURANT (O.S.)
</b>          Get Rudy on the phone. Uh huh.
          Rudy ... Listen. Just shut up and
          listen. You get a little gift from
          Chinatown, today? No? Well that
          coney that Pauly took is really
          stingin' my ass... Uh huh. No. We
          do it my way. You Tell Hung Fat that
          I'm coming by tomorrow to make the
          pick-up personally. Either he coughs
          green or he becomes part of my
          collection.

<b>                         DURANT'S HANDS
</b>          He places the object in a box, lined with red velvet.
          He takes a long, admiring look.
          We get only a glimpse.

<b>          A COLLECTION OF SIXTEEN FINGERS
</b>           and arranged in neat littl e rows
           professionally preserved box -
           h He closes the cover
          S Someestill wi

<b>                          T
</b>
<b>                         286
</b>
<b>          286 EXT. DURANT'S HOME - NIGHT
</b>
          A shadowy form lurks by a telephone pole by the front of
          the house.

<b>          PHONE JUNCTURE BOX
</b>          An electronic bug attached to one of the terminals gives
          off a flashing red light. A wire from the bug leads to...

<b>          A CHARRED WALKMAN TAPE-RECORDER
</b>          Its microcassette spins. Filtered through it we hear
          Durant's phone conversation continue.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          101.
</b>
<b>                         286
</b>
<b>                         286 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>           DURANT'S VOICE (OS)
</b>          it would be a nice addition.

<b>                         GUZMAN'S VOICE
</b>          Jew want me to be at your
          place ... around 8:30?

<b>                         DURANT'S VOICE
</b>          That would be just fine for me.
          We are tracking off the cassette up a long cord that leads
          to a pair of headsets worn by Darkman. His eyes glisten
          through the slits of his bandages.
          A set of hands enter frame and crack him viciously across
          the head. He sprawls backward, caught off guard.

<b>          A SWITCH BLADE
</b>          is shoved against his bandaged throat.

<b>          MUGGER 1 (O.S.)
</b>          Hey shithead, give up the radio. And
          the money.
          Like lightening, a skeletal claw lashes out.

<b>          THE BONY PINCER
</b>          SNAPS closed upon Mugger 2's wrist. The pincer twists
          sharply and we hear the awful CRACK of the mugger's wrist
          shattering.

<b>                         DARKMAN'S EYES
</b>          gleam like a shark as it bites.

<b>                         MUGGER #1
</b>          SCREAMS, dropping the switchblade to the pavement.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          102.
</b>
<b>                         286 CONTINUED(2)
</b>
<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          turns to Mugger #2, as he pulls down the bandages from
          around his mouth, revealing: a terrible maw of black
          and crooked teeth, attached to a lipless jawbone. It
          jerks... and words come out:

<b>                         DARIQRMAN
</b>
<b>                         (FIRE-RAVAGED
</b>
<b>                         VOICE)
</b>          Run for your life.

<b>                         THE MUGGERS
</b>          flee in fear.

<b>                         DARE 4AN
</b>          contorts his face into a ghastly interpretation of a
          smile, and slips back into the shadows.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         Â¢287
</b>
<b>          287 EXT. OUTDOOR CAFE - DAY - PEYTON AND JULIE
</b>
          sit at a table drinking coffee and sharing a slice of
          pie.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          But why do you have to stay at this
          burn center? You can stay at my place
          now.

<b>                         288
</b>
<b>                         288 JULIE'S HAND
</b>
<b>          0 .
</b>          closes around Peyton's--real skin on synthetic skin.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>
<b>                         (QUICKLY)
</b>          No! No, it's best, for now, till all
          the kinks have been smoothed out ---

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          103.
</b>
<b>                         288 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>
<b>                         -(PUZZLED)
</b>          -- kinks.
          Peyton glances at his watch. 97 minutes.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton, I still don't understand. Why
          didn't you come back to see me before
          now?

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Well... it's like I told you. The
          burns left some scars and... I was
          ashamed. Afraid. I was afraid that
          you wouldn't want me anymore.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Of course I still want you.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          But...what if I was...burned. So
          horribly burned, that you couldn't
          stand to look at me. Couldn't stand
          to have me touch you. What then?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Well...if that were the case... I
          don't know. But why even ask me that?
          The point is: You're fine. Your
          back. Just like always.
          She smiles. Peyton is filled with the warmth of being
          accepted and wanted once again.

<b>                         VIBRANTLY;
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Yeah. I am back, aren't I? Just like
          always.

<b>          289 INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT 289
</b>
          We pan past the lab table, cluttered with empty pizza
          boxes and a tangled mass of used bandages.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          104.
</b>
<b>                         289 CONTINUED
</b>          From offscreen we hear Durant's recorded voice:

<b>                         DURANT'S VOICE
</b>          That would be just fine for me.

<b>                         THE CAT
</b>          sleeps.
          We hear the garbled chatter of the audio tape being
          rewound.
          We are panning past the Walkman, which is wired to
          the computer. The tape stops, then, as programmed,
          plays again.

<b>                         DURANT'S VOICE
</b>          That would be just fine for me.
          We pan past the back of the Darkman's head. The -
          bandages have been removed. Although his face is not
          visible, the singed hairless back of his skull is.
          It is not a pretty sight.

<b>                         R
</b>          The Darkman swabs a thick white paste, silvidine burn
          ointment, upon his skeletal fingers.

<b>                         DURANT'S VOICE
</b>          That would be just fine for me.
          The Darkman switches off the desk lamp and removes a
          mask from a black lightproof bag. He examines it,
          returns the mask to the bag, then slips it into his
          coat.
          The camera arcs around to see the bottom half of his
          skeletal face.

<b>                         DURANT'S VOICE
</b>          That would be...
          CLICK--the Darkman stops the tape mid-sentence and his
          own hideously charred mandible finishes it:

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          ..just fine for me.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>          ï¿½cw. f

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene is 2-17-89)

<b>          105.
</b>
<b>                         289 CONTINUED(2)
</b>          The impression is good, though slightly thick. The
          Darkman strokes his jawbone thoughtfully.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>          P290 BLACK-AND-WHITE VIEW THROUGH ROTATING SECURITY CAMERA P290
</b>          We are looking at a convenience store from the high
          angle of a video camera. The harshly lit store has
          aisles of cheese whiz, twinkies, shampoos and various
          other things not found in nature.
          290 A digital readout at the bottom of the screen blinks: 290

<b>           7:36 A.M.
</b>
<b>                         291 ENTERS FRAME 291
</b>           Her sets them on the counte before the lone erk.

<b>                         R
</b>
<b>                         CLERK
</b>          Wanna bag for that?

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          That would be just fine for me.
          292 The clerk bags the pizzas as Durant pulls out a 292
          revolver from his suit coat. The clerk takes a Fearful
          step back.

<b>                         CLERK
</b>          Hey-hey, take it easy, buddy!

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Name ain't buddy. It's Durant.
          He waits for the video security camera to pan to him
          and stop. He cheats in toward the lens for a good
          clear close-up that fills the screen..
          .Robert G. Durant

<b>          293 INT DURANT'S HOUSE 293
</b>
<b>                         CLOSE SHOT--DURANT
</b>          Matching the previous shot except that it is in color.
          He is speaking to someone just off camera.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          106.
</b>
<b>                         293 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Yeah, I'.m Robert G. Durant...
          The camera is pulling back to reveal that he is

<b>                         TWO
</b>          standing in the open doorway of his home, facing
          cops. He glances at his watch.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          ..But I'm in a hurry. Got a meeting
          at nine.

<b>                         COP #1
</b>
<b>                         (SMILING)
</b>          You're gonna be late.
          As Cop 2 slaps a pair of cuffs onDurant.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         294
</b>
<b>          294 INT. MIDNIGHT BLUE CONTINENTAL - DAY
</b>
          Trumayne is driving. We pan from him to Rudy to...

<b>          A GOLD CIGAR TRIMMER
</b>          Snipping a cigar. We follow it up to the mouth of Robert
          G. Durant. His temple pulsates faintly.

<b>                         295
</b>
<b>          295 EXT CHINESE RESTAURANT - DAY
</b>          A large sign above the entrance reads: "THE MANDARIN".
          The Continental pulls up to the curb. Trumayne waits
          in the car as Guzman and Darkman/Durant step out into
          the bright morning sunshine.

<b>                         DARMAN/DURANT
</b>          hesitates, calculating the intensity of the sunlight. He
          sneaks a glance at his watch.

<b>          CLOSE ON WATCH
</b>          It reads; 90 minutes.

<b>                          CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene Is 2-17-89)

<b>          107.
</b>
<b>                         295 CONTINUA
</b>
<b>          THE DAR1 AN
</b>          followsâ¢L'uzman into the restaurant.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         296
</b>
<b>          296 EXT. POLICE STATION
</b>
          The real Durant moves angrily down the steps. His
          mouthpiece, Marvin Katz, accompanies him.

<b>                         KATZ
</b>          .had it all on film. I almost
          didn't get 'em to post bail.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Just keep 'em out of my hair.

<b>                         KATZ
</b>          Hey where you going?

<b>                         REAL DURANT
</b>
<b>                         THE DRIVER:
</b>          Jumps into a waiting taxi cab and bellows at

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          The Mandarin! Fast!
          The cab PEELS out.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         297
</b>
<b>          297 INT. MANDARIN RESTAURANT - DAY
</b>
          HUNG FAT, dressed in a finely tailored white linen
          suit and smoking a long brown cigarette, smiles in
          greeting.

<b>                         HUNG PAT
</b>          Wahbuht! So good of you to favor me
          with your venerated presence! Please
          honor me by seating yourself in my
          shabby chair!
          Darkman/Durant remains impassively standing.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          108.
</b>
<b>                         297 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         HUNG PAT
</b>          . or do me the greater honor of
          remaining on your feet!

<b>                         DURANT/ DARIQIAN
</b>          The money.

<b>                         HUNG FAT
</b>          The money! Yes! Wahbuht! How I
          tremble with shame. How I hide my
          face.
          He elaborately does so with his hands.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          Studies Durant/Darkman with uncertainty. After
          another beat of uncomfortable silence, he decides to
          begin for his boss.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          We no here for de bullshit, we here to
          pick up de money and thas what we do.

<b>                         F
</b>
<b>                         THE DARIAN
</b>          glances up at the harsh fluorescent light. He runs a.
          hand across the artificial flesh'of his face, checking
          for signs of decomposition. He sneaks a look to his...

<b>                         WATCH
</b>          93 minutes.

<b>                         HUNG FAT
</b>          How I regret having to burden you with
          my miserable difficulties! I have no
          money!
          The Darkman's eyes shift. He was not expecting this.
          Hung Fat is waiting for an explosion. There is none.
          Sensing an advantage, he presses on.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          109.
</b>
<b>                         297 CONTINUED(2)
</b>
<b>                         HUNG FAT
</b>          .The white powder no longer flows in
          iis former volume. All a members of

<b>                         TONG LANGUISH
</b>          in poverty...

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          Studies the Darkman hard. How can he tolerate this?

<b>                         HUNG FAT
</b>          And of all your unworthy servants,
          Hung Fat is the most destitute...
          As if in response to some silent signal, four enormous
          and muscular Chinese men enter and stand, arms
          crossed, in a threatening posture.
          Even Hung Fat's own minable slaves
          sometimes ignore his wishes, and
          attack those people whom Hung Fat
          cherishes most deeply! Wahbuht, they
          know nothing of our golden friendship!

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          is looking from Hung Fat to Durant/Darkman; what's
          wrong? Why doesn't he do something?

<b>                         HUNG FAT
</b>          So until that shining day -- may it
          soon come! -- when I shall once again
          be able to honor you with bounty, I
          bid you goodbye! Good bye, Wahbuht!
          He is shaking his hand, pressing his advantage,
          invading his physical space and making mockery of him!

<b>                         HUNG FAT
</b>          .. Wahbuht, goodbye!

<b>                         RUDY
</b>          can't believe his eyes.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          110.
</b>
<b>                         297 CONTINUED(3)
</b>
<b>                         THE DARXMAN
</b>          letting Hung Fat pump his hand like an idiot. Hung Fat
          drops his hand. It dangles lamely at his side. The
          Darkman walks over to a bamboo chair and slumps.
          closes his eyes and sighs. He removes a cigar from
          his breast pocket.
          With his eyes closed:

<b>                         DARX24AN
</b>          You will bring me the five million
          dollars by the time I finish this
          cigar.

<b>                         HUNG FAT
</b>
<b>                         BUT WAHBUHT--
</b>          SNIP'. Hung Fat flinches at what he sees.
          The camera pans to the sound.
           the cigar to a third of its
          The Darkman has just snippe
           d and puffs.
          former size. He lights

<b>                         HUNG FAT
</b>          His mocking smile disappears as he sees...

<b>          EXTREME CLOSE SHOT--THE CIGAR'S GLOWING TIP
</b>          It fills the bottom of the frame. Above, filling the top
          half of the frame:
          The Darkman's evil eyes, through the rippling heat of
          the cigar. Their intensity pierces the shroud of smoke
          and burns holes into Hung Fat's soul.

<b>                         HUNG FAT
</b>          dumbly nods. Without a trace of an accent:

<b>                         HUNG FAT
</b>          .Okay, Bob, you win.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         298
</b>
<b>          298 EXT. STET
</b>
          Durant fps from his taxi, stalled in morning traffic.
          He pushew his way roughly through the crowd, toward
          Hung Fat's Mandarin Cuisine at the end of the block.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         299
</b>
<b>          299 INT. MANTARIN CUISINE
</b>

<b>          DURANT/D XNAN'S CIGAR
</b>          is extinguished in an ashtray as a briefcase is set down
          alongside it. Placed there by

<b>          A BURLY VHINESE WARRIOR
</b>          who takes a step back, alongside Hung Fat.

<b>                         DURANT/ DARKMAN
</b>          grabs the case. As he exits the office with Guzman he
          sneaks a look at:

<b>          THE DIGITAL STOPWATCH
</b>          it reads: 97 minutes. Click. 98 minutes.
          DUR.ANT/DART AN and GUZMAN
          head for the revolving doors.

<b>                         300
</b>
<b>          300 DURANT/ DARKMAN' S FACE
</b>          A tiny skin blister has bubbled up on his light-sensitive
          facial mask. His hand comes up to smooth it out.

<b>                         301
</b>
<b>                         301
</b>
<b>          BODY GUARD (O.S.)
</b>
<b>          HEY YOU!
</b>
<b>                         DURANT/DARKMAN
</b>          spins, caught. CONTINUED

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          112.
</b>
<b>                         301 CONTINUE
</b>
<b>          A BURLY CHINESE BODY-GUARD
</b>          approaches quickly, pointing at Durant/Darkman's face.

<b>                         BODY GUARD
</b>
<b>          HOLD IT!
</b>          He reaches into a pocket, pulls out...
          ...Durant's monogrammed lighter, which he hands to
          Durant/Darkman.

<b>                         BODY GUARD
</b>          Your lighter.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         302
</b>
<b>          302 EXT MANDARIN RESTAURANT - REAL DURANT
</b>          as he runs up to Trumayne and Smiley who are waiting in
          the Continetal.

<b>                         REAL DURANT
</b>          where is he?!

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          Where's who?!

<b>                         REAL DURANT
</b>          Guzman.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          I thought he was with you!

<b>                         REAL DURANT
</b>          sprints for the restaurant.

<b>          .CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         303
</b>
<b>          303 INT MANDARIN RESTAURANT - DURANT/DARKMAN
</b>          clutching the briefcase as he follows Guzman through
          the revolving doors. Guzman exits onto the street.
          But as Durant/Darkman revolves through the door, he
          slams suddenly to a halt.
          In the next chamber of the revolving door he sees...

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          113.
</b>
<b>                         303 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         REAL DURWT
</b>          whose disbelieving face moves closer to get a better
          look.

<b>          THE TWO DURANTS
</b>          dressed identically, stare at each other through the
          glass in eerie confrontation.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          stands upon the sidewalk, gaping in
          wonder.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          Dios Mio! Aye que papa!

<b>                         DURANT/ DARXMAN
</b>          shoves the door forward, dislodging the stunned Real
          Durant. He rotates past Guzman and points to the Real
          Durant, revolving behind him.

<b>                         DURANT/ DARFMAN
</b>
<b>          SHOOT HIM!!!
</b>
<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          draws his gun and waits, sweating.

<b>                         REAL DURANT
</b>
<b>                          T O
</b>          spins past the incredulous him
          to the Durant
          shoot him. Real Durant points

<b>                         REAL DURANT
</b>
<b>          SHOOT HIM!!!
</b>          The revolving doors whirl faster. Round he goes.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          nods, recalibrates his orders and stands ready to fire.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          114.
</b>
<b>                         303 CONTINUED(2)
</b>
<b>                          DURANT/DARKMAN
</b>           spins past him.

<b>                          DURANT/ DARKMAN
</b>
<b>           SHOOT HIM!!!
</b>
<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          doesn't know who to plug.

<b>          304 MOTION CONTROL RIG - DURANT 304
</b>          leaps out onto the street.

<b>          A SECOND DURANT
</b>          leaps out onto the street.
          They face each other. Who's who? It's impossible to
          tell. Only the briefcase of cash distinguishes one from
          the other.

<b>          THE TWO DURANTS
</b>          go directly for each other's throats. The briefcase
          falls to the ground. They call to Guzman.

<b>                         REAL DURANT
</b>
<b>          DON'T JUST STAND THERE...
</b>          Real Durant's face is spun out of frame and replaced with
          Durant/Darkman's exact replica.

<b>                         DURANT/DARKMAN
</b>
<b>          .DO SOMETHING!!
</b>
<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          waves his gun back and forth, from one Durant to the
          other.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene #s 2-17-89)

<b>          115.
</b>
<b>                         304 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         DURANT
</b>          slams Durant's face against the brick wall of the
          restaurant. One Durant falls to the pavement, clutching
          his head, groggy.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          raises an uncertain gun to the standing Durant.

<b>                         B3 04
</b>
<b>          B304 STANDING DURANT
</b>          backhands Guzman viciously across the face--CRACK!

<b>                         STANDING DURANT
</b>          Son of a bitch set me up with the cops
          and you practically hand him the cash!

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          watches warily as Standing Durant picks up the briefcase.

<b>                         STANDING DURANT
</b>
<b>                         (FURIOUS WITH
</b>          What the hell you lookin'at?! SHOOT

<b>          THE BASTARD! !
</b>
<b>                         P3 04
</b>
<b>                         P304 GUZMAN
</b>          retrains his gun on the fallen Durant who covers his
          face. But before he fires, he gives a final glance to
          Standing Durant.

<b>                         305
</b>
<b>                         305 STANDING DURANT
</b>          The sunward side of his face is bubbling and blistering,
          revealing glimpses of a skull beneath.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          116.
</b>
<b>                         306 306
</b>
<b>          STANDING DURANT/DARKMAN
</b>          What are you, deaf?!
          He notes a wisp of smoke and knows the jig is up. He
          slams the briefcase into Guzman's face -- THWACK! --
          knocking him to the ground.
          The Darkman sprints down the sidewalk through the crowd.

<b>                         REAL DURANT
</b>          climbs to his feet, holding his bleeding head. He
          backhands Guzman across the face--CRACK! He grabs
          Guzman's gun and runs after his alter-ego.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          woozily pulls a snub nosed .45 from his ankle holster and
          gamely follows.

<b>                         DURANT/DARXMAN
</b>          races down the street, leaving a thin trail of yellow
          smoke. He halts at a busy intersection. Cars speed past.
          No way to cross. He turns to the sound of gunshots.

<b>          BLAMMITY-BLAM!
</b>
<b>                         REAL DURANT
</b>          gun in hand, and closing fast. A cart filed with crates
          is wheeled directly in his path. Real Durant gracefully
          leaps atop the crates, and never letting up his rain of
          fire, springs from them.
          While in free-fall, he ejects the spent cartridge and
          snaps in a fresh clip. He lands . firing!

<b>          BLAMMITY-BAM!
</b>
<b>          BLAMMITY-BAM!
</b>
<b>          BLAMMITY-BAM!
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          117.
</b>
<b>                         307
</b>
<b>          307 THE COIN OPERATED NEWSSTAND
</b>
<b>                          WE
</b>           in a shower

<b>                         NEXT
</b>          hear the frightened
          scatter.

<b>                         308
</b>
<b>                         308 DARKMAN'S FACE
</b>          is in the process of cellular fragmentation. His mask
          emits tiny jets of blue flame. He runs for a subway
          entrance.

<b>                         309
</b>
<b>          309 DURANT AND GUZMAN
</b>           They are gun-
           follow after the th em fire e at nce.
           toting T umayne. DAlll three of o

<b>                         R
</b>
<b>          BLAMMITY-BAM!
</b>
<b>          BLAMMITY-BAM!
</b>
<b>          BLAMMITY-BAM!
</b>
<b>                         310
</b>
<b>          310 INT. SUBWAY - STAIRS TO THE TRAIN PLATFORM
</b>
          Darkman takes a bullet in the arm. Although he can't
          H feel it, the knocks
          away bloody.
          his wound He touches

<b>          CLOSE SHOT - DARKMAN/DURANT
</b>          His smoking face reveals no pain, only puzzlement. He
          vaults over the turnstile and races down the platform.

<b>                         311
</b>
<b>          311 INT. SUBWAY - STAIRS TO THE TRAIN PLATFORM
</b>

<b>          DURANT, RUDY, AND TRUMAYNE
</b>          note the blood as they reload.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Got you.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          118.
</b>
<b>                         311 CONTIB' ED
</b>          They ju p the turnstile with guns drawn and look about
          for the Darkman. Commuters scatter.
          Durant spots something lying on the platform. He
          picks It up.

<b>          THE TH33NG
</b>          is slims and translucent. Durant holds it to the light.
          It's the mask of his own face. It smolders and melts.
          He f1Ligs it away.

<b>                         312
</b>
<b>          312 THE MELTING FACIAL MASK
</b>          sticks to the tiled wall of the subway next to Guzman
          and Trumayne. Durant's nose and cheeks melt together into
          a sickening goo.

<b>                         313
</b>
<b>          313 GUZMAN AND TRUMAYNE
</b>          step back, sickened.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>
<b>                         (NAUSEATED)
</b>          Me cago en Dios, I can no believe dis
          shit.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          notes drops of blood which lead off the platform and down
          into the dark subway tunnel.

<b>                         RUDY
</b>          We ain't going in dere are we?!
          Durant pulls a tiny penlight from his pocket and leaps
          from the platform onto the track bed.

<b>                         314
</b>
<b>          314 INT. SUBWAY TUNNEL
</b>
          Dark, dank, spooky. Durant carries the penlight.
          Guzman and Trumayne follow reluctantly.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          119.
</b>
<b>                         314 CONTINUED I
</b>
<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>
<b>                         (WHINING)
</b>          Goddamn it man... We follow some
          pendejo without a face... into a
          goddamn hole in de ground...

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          holds up his hand commanding silence as-they come to an
          intersection of subway tunnels. Both lead into darkness.
          They listen, but all is quiet. They speak in hushed
          tones.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          Now what?

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          You go that way. We'll take this one.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          doesn't look too thrilled by the prospect of being
          alone in the tunnels.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          Alone?

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          No. Take a fucking squad of marines
          with you!

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          tosses him the penlight. Hard. Casually he lights a
          cigar and continues forward.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          watches Durant and Guzman disappear down the tunnel.
          The sound of their footsteps recedes. Trumayne's
          breathing is shallow. He loosens his necktie and
          unbuttons his collar. He takes a breath.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          120.
</b>
<b>                         314 CONTINUED(2)
</b>
<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          Okay.

<b>                         315
</b>          315 He advances silently through the tunnel...

<b>          TA-CKANG! CLANG!
</b>          Trumayne flinches. He points the penlight in the
          direction of the clanging sound.

<b>                         HIS POV
</b>
<b>                         IT
</b>          An empty wine bottle at his feet is illuminated.
          rolls to a stop against the tunnel wall.
          He listens.
          Silence.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          Gettin' jumpy. Like Rick.
          A faint cough comes from the blackness ahead.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          raises the penlight.

<b>          THE FEEBLE LIGHT BEAM
</b>          cannot pierce he darkness. Trumayne bends down and
          picks up the bottle, keeping his fearful eyes on the
          darkness ahead.
          The cough again.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          heaves the bottle at the sound.

<b>                          316
</b>
<b>          316 SLOW MOTION - WINE BOTTLE
</b>          as it tumbles end over end into the darkness.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          121.
</b>
<b>                         317
</b>
<b>                         317 TRUM1
</b>          waitsr the crash, ready to fire at anything that
          moves.. -

<b>                         HIS
</b>          Black. No sound.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          still waiting, nerves on edge. Where's the crash?!

<b>                         HIS POY
</b>          The oppressive dark.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          shudders Something in the darkness has swallowed the
          bottle. He begins to back out of the tunnel the way he
          came.
          He freezes in the center of a tunnel intersection at the
          sound of FOOTSTEPS. Crunching on gravel; Approaching.
          He fingers the gun's trigger.
          Empty tunnels on all sides.
          The FOOTSTEPS quicken.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          Mr. Durant?!
          Panicked, Trumayne shines his light in front of him.
          Empty tunnel.
          The FOOTSTEPS come faster, closer.

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          Guzman?!
          He jerks his penlight to the tunnel behind him. Nothing.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene s 2-17-89)

<b>          122.
</b>
<b>                         317
</b>
<b>                         317 CONTINUE-
</b>          To his right... nothing.
          To his left... nothing.
          He's trying to see all the tunnels at once. He spins
          desperately, firing into each of them.

<b>                         GUN BARREL
</b>          spits flame--BLAM!

<b>                         A TUNNEL
</b>          is illuminated by the brilliant flash of the gun. Empty.
          The light fades.

<b>                         GUN BARREL
</b>          spins and fires -- BOOM!

<b>                         TRUMAYNE'S EYES
</b>          are lit up. Crazed with fear. The illumination
          fades.

<b>                         GUN BARREL
</b>          spins and spits sparks--BEAM!

<b>                         ANOTHER TUNNEL
</b>          illuminated--empty. The light fades.

<b>                         GUN BARREL
</b>
<b>          BLAM!
</b>
<b>                         P318
</b>          P318 TUNNEL (Melting)

<b>                         B318
</b>
<b>          B318 THE DARKMAN. . ILLUMINATED. . UNMASKED!
</b>          The split-second flash has caught him pouncing in mid-air.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>           (Revised Scene . 2-17-89)

<b>           123.
</b>
<b>          ..,: B318 CONTIN D
</b>          For the first time, we see the complete nightmare. Only
          the uppw right quarter of Peyton's face remains intact.
          Perfect., Handsome. But as for the rest...
          The 3i,a is a hairless skull, covered with random bits of
          scaranf char. Without the benefit of gums or lips, the
          entire 3ength of his teeth are exposed down to the root,
          connec g crookedly to the jaw bone. One ear remains
          intact, the other a burnt hole. Only the rudimentary
          cartile forms the nose. But it is the wild eyeballs
          protruig obscenely from the bone of their sockets, that
          tell tba,story. There, lies madness; a dark river of evil
          rage.

<b>                          CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                          319
</b>
<b>          319 DURANT AND GUZMAN
</b>          They hear Trumayne's throaty SCREAM, then silence. They
          run toird the sound. When they arrive, they see only
          the penlight laying upon the track bed. It's dull glow
          shines upon the wet walls of the tunnels. Nearby they
          find the gun and one of Trumayne's shoes.

<b>                         GUZMAN'S EYES
</b>          look like saucers.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          even looks a little scared.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          Oh shit, man. What did he do, man...
          eat him?
          From the tunnel ahead, FOOTSTEPS approach. The two men
          squint, attempting to pierce the blackness.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          Trumayne?!
          The FOOTSTEPS grow louder. Closer.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          .Hey, amigo, dat chew?!
          From the darkness, a figure emerges and runs at them.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          124.
</b>
<b>                         319 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>          DURANT AND GUZMAN
</b>          raise their rods and blast:

<b>          BLAMMITY-BLAM!
</b>
<b>          BLAMMITY-BLAM!
</b>          The dark figure, lurches and collapses upon the ties.
          A shaft of light reveals it to be...

<b>                         TRUMAYNE
</b>          gagged, with his hands tied behind his back, a wild look
          of terror in his dead eyes.

<b>          DURANT AND GUZMAN
</b>          gape stupidly at the body before them. They glance
          fearfully to one another through the fog of gunsmoke.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          looks about, gets control, loads a fresh clip into his
          gun with an echoing SNAP.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          waves his arms in surrender.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          Good Bye. Das it. I'm outta here...
          Durant grabs him.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Where the hell are you going?

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          pulls free.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised scene waters 2-17-89)

<b>          127.
</b>
<b>                         322 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>          WOOOOOOODOOOOOOOOOOOOOI!1!!11
</b>          Durant looks wildly over his shoulder as he runs for his
          life.

<b>                         323
</b>
<b>                         323 THE TRAILF
</b>          Two thousand tons of unforgiving steel is barreling down
          upon his. One hundred feet away and closing...Thirty feet
          Ten...

<b>                         324
</b>
<b>          324 THE FRONT WHEELS OF THE TRAIN
</b>          ROAR atop the track. Durant's feet slower moving, enter
          view just ahead.

<b>                         B325
</b>
<b>          B325 TRACKING WITH DARKMAN'S BONEY JAW
</b>          Lit by the flying blue sparks it emits an evil laugh.
          Tunnel walls zip past in the background.

<b>                         326
</b>
<b>                         326 PULLING DURANT
</b>          He runs, the train gigantic behind him. Durant's face is
          stretched in panic. The cigar is still in his mouth,
          between clenched teeth. He fixes on something ahead.

<b>                         327
</b>
<b>          327 HIS POV - A SECTION OF RAISED SUBWAY TRACK
</b>          in the middle of the track, a shallow depression.

<b>                         328
</b>
<b>                         328 DURANT'S FEET
</b>          running only a shoe's length ahead of the sparking wheel.

<b>                         329
</b>
<b>                         329 PULLING DURANT
</b>          as he desperately leaps for the depression in the tracks.
          He appears to go down right under the train.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          128.
</b>
<b>                         330
</b>
<b>          330 UNDER THE TRACK - DURANT
</b>          hugging the shallow depression. Is he low enough? The
          underside of the train comes roaring over us.

<b>                         VR00000000MI
</b>          The train begins its long roar past. We hear an AGONIZED
          SCREAM that is either the train or Durant -- or some
          ungodly combination.

<b>          THE TUNNEL WALL
</b>          is illuminated with a flash of light.

<b>          WHITE.
</b>
<b>          BLACK.
</b>
<b>          WHITE.
</b>          from the light pouring out the passing train windows.

<b>                         TRAIN WHEELS
</b>          throw blue sparks into the darkness.

<b>                         LOW ANGLE
</b>          The long subway train rolls into the distance. It's
          rumble fades.
          Quiet. Durant's cigar smoulders on the tracks.

<b>                         331
</b>
<b>                         331 DURANT HIMSELF
</b>          rises quietly into frame. His suit is still clean. He
          appears remarkably unscathed. He runs a hand through his
          hair, turns and walks slowly along the tracks. That's
          when we see his back: the train has raked off the fabric
          of his suit and pants, exposing bare back and buttocks.
          Somehow maintaining his dignity, Durant picks up the
          smouldering cigar from the tracks. He takes a puff
          and moves off.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          129.
</b>
<b>                         332
</b>
<b>          332 INT. WAREHOUSE
</b>
          Darkman sits with the phone faintly ringing against his
          ear. Something frantic about him, the vein in his fore-
          head, faintly beating. While he waits for the other
          party to answer, he cuts into the painless wound on his
          arm with a surgical instrument, digging for something
          . Finally Julie's voice comes on:

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>           We cut from Darkman's ravaged monster-face to:

<b>                          333
</b>
<b>                         333 JULIE
</b>          beautiful as ever.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          -- Peyton! Where have you been? Why
          haven't you called?

<b>                         334
</b>          334 Back to the monster face:

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>
<b>                         (INTENSE)
</b>          Can I--can I see you?
          CLINK! The bullet is dislodged from the wound and drops
          on the table.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         335
</b>
<b>                         335 PEOPLE SCREAMING
</b>          Various close shots of screaming patrons on the Tilt-A
          A-Whirl, their faces hideously distorted by wind,
          centrifugal force, and their mouths stretched wide to
          scream.

<b>                         MERRY-GO-ROUND HORSES
</b>          Various close shots of leering horses bobbing up and
          down.
          We are at a carnival.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          130.
</b>
<b>                         335 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          laughing, his face restored, walking down the midway, one
          arm draped over Julie's shoulder. She laughs with him.
          Peyton glances at his watch.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Put away that watch or I'll think you
          don't like me anymore. Oh, Peyton,
          let's spend the whole day together --
          the whole week!
          A beat.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          I've got to tell you, Julie... I've
          got to tell you something about --
          about me -- how I've changed.
          Julie turns.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          In the fire -- I -- I
          A voice offscreen rises above the general noise:

<b>                         VOICE (OS)
</b>          See the mutant man, half man, half
          beast! Witness this prodigy of
          science with your own eyes!
          Peyton whirls around.

<b>          PEYTON'S POV - A SIDESHOW BARKER
</b>          soliciting pedestrians to a side-show.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          What?

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>
<b>                         (QUICKLY;
</b>
<b>                         NERVOUS)
</b>          Never mind.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          What's going on, Peyton? What are you
          keeping from me?

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          131.
</b>
<b>                         335 CONT (2)
</b>          Peyton Ares at Julie. He can't bring himself to tell
          her.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>
<b>                         (SUDDENLY
</b>
<b>                         IMPULSIVE)
</b>          C'mon, I'm going to win you the
          biggest' fuzziest pinkiest animal doll
          on that rack. Something you'll-be
          truly embarrassed to own... and then
          I've got to run.
          They have stopped in front of a booth where softballs get
          tossed at bottle pyramids. Peyton lays down a dollar and
          is handed three balls.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Why do you always have to run?
          Peyton looks at the pyramid, avoiding her look. He
          throws the first ball; misses. -

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          I. have my treatment... I'm not a
          hundred percent cured yet--but I soon
          will be.
          He throws the second ball; misses.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Can I take you back to the burn
          center?
          Peyton's vein begins to throb faintly.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          No! No, please. I don't want you to
          see me there. I don't want you to
          think of me as...an invalid or... some
          kind of f--ff-fff--FREAK!
          On that word he throws the last ball with great force.
          The pyramid explodes.
          Peyton, breathing heavily, takes a moment to collect
          himself, then says quietly to the booth attendant:

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          132.
</b>
<b>                         335 CONTINUED(3)
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          ...The pink elephant, please.
          The bored attendant, a cigarette dangling from his
          lower lip, shakes his head.

<b>                         ATTENDANT
</b>          Sorry buddy. It don't count if you
          ain't standing behind that line.

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          I was behind the line.

<b>                         ATTENDANT
</b>          Not hardly.

<b>                         336
</b>
<b>                         336 PEYTON'S VEIN
</b>          pulses.

<b>                         337
</b>
<b>                         337
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          I was standing right here. Next to my
          girlfriend. Now. The pink elephant,
          .if you please!

<b>                         ATTENDANT
</b>          Na way.
          Julie tugs at his sleeve.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton, it doesn't matter.
          Peyton is fighting to contain his rage. in clipped
          words, between gasps for breath:

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          It matters. I won a pink elephant.
          For my girlfriend.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton... It's okay...

<b>                         ATTENDANT
</b>          Get lost, buddy.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          133.
</b>
<b>                         338
</b>
<b>                         338 BRIEF CUTS
</b>          People screaming on the Tilt-A-Whirl. Merry-Go-Round
          horses bobbing up and down. Calliope music gets louder
          and louder.

<b>                         339
</b>
<b>                         339 PEYTONN
</b>          Shaking under the pressure of contained rage, his vein
          bulging, throbbing. Under his-breath:

<b>                         340
</b>
<b>                         340
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          The elephant... Quickly!
          The attendant unwisely pushes two fingers into Peyton's
          chest.
          We rocket into a close shot of the offending digits.
          From of fscreen, we hear the attendant's voice:

<b>                         ATTENDANT
</b>          You heard me, weirdo. Get lost!

<b>                         341
</b>
<b>          341 CRACK!
</b>          The counter dissolves into a million fissures, as do the
          stuffed animals on the shelves above.

<b>                         342
</b>
<b>                         342 PEYTON'S FACE
</b>          Twitching violently, vein swollen to bursting. The camera
          races into an eyeball to find:

<b>                         343
</b>
<b>                         343 PEOPLE SCREAMING
</b>
<b>                         344
</b>
<b>                         344 HORSES BOBBING
</b>
<b>                          345
</b>
<b>          345 CLOWN LAUGHING, DOING A JIG IN A FUNNY HAT
</b>
<b>                          346
</b>
<b>          346 ROCKET BACK OUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Screaming. A skin blister bubbles on his cheek.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          134.
</b>
<b>                         347
</b>
<b>          347 ATTENDANT'S TWO FINGERS
</b>          Against Peyton's chest. Peyton grabs them and--CRACK-
          breaks them.

<b>                         348
</b>
<b>                         348 WIDER
</b>          The attendant screams. Peyton screams with him.
          Julie screams as well.

<b>                         349
</b>          349 Peyton reaches for the attendant, lifts him into
          the air, hurls him into another pyramid, which
          collapses.

<b>                         350
</b>
<b>          350 FUZZY PINK ELEPHANT
</b>           is yanked violently from the shelf.

<b>                          351
</b>
<b>                         351 PEYTON
</b>          shoves it at Julie.
          In a voice hoarse with rage:

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Take it!

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          135.
</b>
<b>                         352
</b>          352 Another skin blister opens.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton! No!

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          'Take it!

<b>                         353
</b>          353 His face is starting to send off wisps of smoke.

<b>                          JULIE
</b>          Please!

<b>                          PEYTON
</b>
<b>           TAKE THE FUCKING ELEPHANT!!
</b>
<b>                          354
</b>          354 She is looking at him, frozen in horror.

<b>                          355
</b>          355 His face is erupting into boils, which simmer and pop,
          giving off bursts of smoke.

<b>                          356
</b>          356 Peyton stares at her. Rage ebbs. His eyes become
          haunted. Hoarsely:

<b>                         PEYTON
</b>          Forgive me!
          He runs off, the fuzzy pink elephant still clasped,
          forgotten, beneath one arm.

<b>                         357
</b>          357 Julie runs after him.

<b>                          JULIE
</b>          Peyton!

<b>                         358
</b>
<b>          358 EXT. STREET
</b>

<b>                         DARXMAN
</b>          disappears around a corner, trailing thin wisps Of
          smoke.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          136.
</b>
<b>          359 EXT. WAREHOUSE - ALLEY 359
</b>
          Darkman rushes down the darkened alley, unlocks the
          warehouse door and rushes inside. CAMERA PANS TO:

<b>                         360 JULIE 360
</b>          who has seen it all from the shadows.

<b>          361 INT. WAREHOUSE 361
</b>
          There's A HORRIBLE RIPPING NOISE. Darkman is
          destroying something, flailing his arms...

<b>          .CREAK.
</b>
<b>                         362 DARKMAN'S EYES 362
</b>          roll toward the noise. He steps back into the shadows.

<b>          363 INT. WAREHOUSE 363
</b>
          Julie slips through a warehouse window. She is
          confronted by rack upon rack of clothing, shoes, body
          padding, and wigs. The place looks like the wardrobe
          room of a major studio.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton?!
          364 No answer. She cautiously advances. Her eyes fall 364
          upon something that makes her gasp.

<b>          365 THE PINK ELEPHANT 365
</b>          ripped to shreds, it's white stuffing all over the
          place.
          366 He moves forward towards a darkened corner of 366
          the lab.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          137.
</b>
<b>                         366
</b>
<b>                         366 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>
<b>                         (SWALLOWING HER
</b>
<b>                         FEAR)
</b>          Peyton?! I need to talk to you.
          She halts at a site in front of her.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Dear God.

<b>                         3 67
</b>
<b>          367 THE DARKMAN'S LAB
</b>           Beams of light cut through the darkness to reveal it;
           The charred holographic imagers, computers, and the
           rebuilt bio-press all sit atop large wooden crates.

<b>                          W HICH 368
</b>          368 Beyond, two lab tables, made chains. oldoors, them hang
           suspended from the ceiling by
           tubes, and beakers of liquid skin. In the place of i
           the bge 66'aF rdpMustangcserveseas
           salvaged bucketeseathofean o
          the lab chair.

<b>                         369
</b>
<b>          369 THE SPOTTED CAT
</b>          eats from a discarded pizza box.
          Despite it's eerie nature, the layout and feel of the
          lab is hauntingly familiar.

<b>                         370
</b>
<b>                         370 JULIE
</b>          backs away frightened, right into.

<b>          THE LIMP AND WRINKLED HEAD OF PEYTON
</b>          hanging from a hook.

<b>                         371
</b>
<b>                         371 JULIE
</b>          her hand trembles as she lifts the eyeless face into
          frame. She forces herself to examine it closely. Her the
          revulsion gives way to pity. She brings it into
          beam of light.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          138.
</b>          (Revised scene ambers 2-17-89)

<b>                         5372
</b>
<b>          S372 JULIE'S HAND HOLDS THE MASK -
</b>          Accomparaed by the sound of BUZZING FLIES and
          SIZZLING Skin blisters boil furiously. She drops it

<b>                         A SCREAM
</b>
<b>                         373
</b>          373 She steadies herself against the computer table
          There are tears in her eyes. Trembling, she turns to
          face the darkness.

<b>                         374
</b>
<b>                         374 DARKMAN
</b>          Presses bimself into the shadows.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton. .?

<b>                         375
</b>
<b>                         375 DARKMAN
</b>          turns his head sharply. Only the upper right corner
          of his face falls into the light. The handsome,
          undamaged portion.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Why didn't you tell me? If you loved
          me, why didn't you tell me?

<b>                         376
</b>
<b>                         376 DARKMAN
</b>          shamed, to be both coward and monster, clutches his
          bony hand to his skull.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          You had no right--

<b>                         377
</b>          377 Tears stream down Julie's face but she is too upset
          to brush them away. She moves forward.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          coward!

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          139.
</b>
<b>                         378
</b>          378 She angrily shoves the computer off the table. It
          crashes to the ground, sparking.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Do you think it was the face I cared
          about?! Is that how little you think
          of me?! Why didn't you come to me?

<b>                         379
</b>
<b>                         379 DARKMAN
</b>          He is shaken by a silent sob. More of his face falls
          into light, illuminating leathery neck muscles and
          hideous bone.

<b>                         380
</b>          380 Julie looks about the dark and desolate warehouse.
          The sight of the bandages. The liquid skin. The
          charred Peyton/Julie photograph. Her face softens.
          She feels the Darkman's pain.

<b>                         QUIETLY;
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          I would have helped you.
          She stares into the shadows a long time without
          speaking.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Don't you know I love you, Peyton?
          And no matter what--no matter what
          you've become I'll always love you?

<b>                         381
</b>
<b>          381 CLOSE ON DARKMAN
</b>          his eyes expressing a ray of hope he didn't think
          possible until now. O.S. We hear the sound of

<b>          RETREATING FOOTSTEPS.
</b>
<b>                         DAR KHAN
</b>          (too quietly to

<b>                         HEAR)
</b>          Julie...
          (then louder; in
          Julie.

<b>                         )11
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          140.
</b>
<b>                         382
</b>          382 But Juba is gone.

<b>                          CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                          383 '
</b>
<b>          383 INT. EACK'S APARTMENT - DAY
</b>
          Strackâ naked except for a monogrammed bath towel
          wrapd around his thickening midriff, walks across
          the plush bedroom of his penthouse apartment. A
          Mahler symphony plays in the background.
          He bends to hoist a huge inlaid mahogany chest that
          rests on a marble stand, 'then, grunting under the
          strain of the load, he staggers back across the room
          to the king-sized bed.
          With a mighty heave he tips the contents of the chest
          out onto the bed. A torrent of golden ICrugerands.
          They wash over the bed, so many that some spill over
          the sides and clatter to the floor.
          Strack pauses for a beat, staring down at the booty,
          then reaches down to the towel and lets it drop to the
          floor.
          Like a swan he dives.
          He rolls, luxuriating in the feel of gold against
          flesh, laughter bubbling from his lips.
          Gold coins stick to his flushed, sweating flesh, then
          slough off, leaving their imprint.
          Strack makes swimming motions with his arms, laving
          himself with the golden coins--
          A knock at the door.
          Strack freezes.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Huhh??:!

<b>                         VOICE
</b>          Julie Hasting's to see you, Mr.
          Strack.

<b>                         CONTINUE D
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          141.
</b>
<b>                         383 CONTINU
</b>          Strack43 eyes dart nervously to the door.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>
<b>                         (HOARSELY)
</b>          lb...
          (he clears his

<b>                         THROAT)
</b>          Very well...
          He stands. A coin or two falls from his dimpled ass
          as he reaches down for his pants.

<b>                         384
</b>
<b>          384 INT. STRACK'S LUXURIOUS STUDY- DAY
</b>
          Strack enters, tying his tie.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Julie, how sweet of you to come before
          our appointed hour... but I expected--
          you in something a little more formal.
          Didn't Ruth inform you that we have
          tickets to Der Fliedermause tonight?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          I can't go, Louis. We have to talk.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Excellent! I love to talk. Brandy?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Thank you, no.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          I'll have one;_
          As he walks to a bar and pours himself a drink.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          ...Fair warning--it's Napoleon, and
          it's quite good--

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Louis, I can't see you anymore.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Darling, settle down. Don't be rash.
          As you say, let's talk.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          142.
</b>
<b>                         384 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          You know about Peyton, the man I was

<b>                         SEEING--
</b>
<b>                         STRACK
</b>
<b>                         OF COURSE--
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Louis, he's alive. He's back. He was
          burned, horribly, horribly burned--I
          don't understand what happened but I
          know he needs my help.
          Strack is visibly taken aback. He sets the brandy
          down.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          .Your news has a bittersweet
          flavor... Of course I'm very happy for
          you. If there's anything I can do--
          the finest medical care can be at your
          disposal--burn therapy, recon-
          structive surgery. How badly was
          he... mutilated?
          Julie has broken down. She sits down on Strack's
          sofa, her body wracked with sobs.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          ... Where is he, Julie?

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          He's living in an abandoned warehouse.
          He's alone... he needs me.
          The phone RINGS. Strack crosses to the desk and picks
          it up.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Not now!... Who?... All right, I'll
          take it in the other room.
          He looks up at Julie.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         I
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          143.
</b>
<b>                         384 CONTINUED(2)
</b>
<b>                         STRACK
</b>          I won't be a moment.
          He walks into an adjoining room. He picks up the
          phone.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Yes, Franz... And the closing
          price?...

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          She reaches for a tissue. Next to it is.

<b>                         HER POV
</b>          Strack's briefcase sitting on top of his desk.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Wipes a tear from her eyes. She moves closer.

<b>                         STRACK (OS)
</b>          I feel sufficiently diversified...
          Franz, it is immaterial to me what the
          market is doing. I want you to buy...

<b>                         JULIE'S POV
</b>          A sheaf of papers stick up above the mouth of the
          briefcase.

<b>          CLOSE ON THE PAPERS
</b>          A dark coffee stain.

<b>          BACK TO JULIE
</b>          As she pulls the papers from the briefcase.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          144.
</b>
<b>                         384 CONTINUED(3)
</b>
<b>                         STRACK (OS)
</b>          Yes, you did hear me correctly. I
          want you to buy. Ten thousand
          Krugerands. Fresh ones!

<b>          CLOSE ON THE PAPERS
</b>
<b>          MEMO: FROM THE DESK OF LOUIS STRACK SR.
</b>
<b>          TO: CLAUDE BELASARIOUS
</b>
<b>                         STRACK'S VOICE
</b>          Yes. The Belasarious memorandum.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          whirls to face him. He stands looking down over her
          shoulder.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          .I'm sorry you had to find that,
          dear. Our relationship didn't need
          this further strain.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          The fire... it wasn't an accident, it
          was you.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Not me personally. I have an employee
          who does certain things for me,
          unofficially, off the books. Robert
          doesn't like to pay taxes.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>
<b>                         (QUIET)
</b>          And now you'll kill me.
          Strack_ spreads his arms.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Hardly. You have nothing on me, my
          dear, and you'd find the extremely
          expensive police department quite
          unsympathetic.
          (A beat).
          Julie. Consider the big picture.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          146.
</b>
<b>                         387 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         STRACK
</b>          I suppose this is goodbye then.
          Julie stares hatefully at him for a beat, then hurries
          out the door.

<b>                         388
</b>          388 Strack moves quickly to the briefcase. He taps
          his fingers idly on the coffee-stained document. Then
          he hits a button on his desk-top intercom.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Send Robert in.
          Strack strolls over to the window and stares out at
          his rising city. OS the door clicks open.

<b>          ROBERT G. DURANT
</b>          enters the room.

<b>                         I STRACK
</b>          Robert! I have good news and bad.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Custom dictates that you render the
          bad news first.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          You recall the little difficulty with
          my father and how you resolved it. We
          have a similar situation with Miss
          Hastings. It seems Miss Hastings has
          uncovered some unflattering
          information about us.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          No problem at all. And the good news?

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Your wife died. I'm joking, of
          course. No, the good news is that I
          know who's behind our little troubles
          of late. When you retrieved my
          memorandum, you failed to excise the
          good doctor.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          147,
</b>
<b>                         388 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Westlake? He's dead. I saw to it
          myself.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          He's alive. I don't like loose ends,
          Robert. Finish it.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Okay. Where is he?
          Strack smiles.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          I believe we have a guide.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>          389 EXT. WAREHOUSE- DAY 389
</b>
          A cab stops across the street from the warehouse and
          Julie emerges.

<b>          TRACKING WITH JULIE
</b>          as she crosses the street. The street is silent,
          desolate... Suddenly from out of nowhere,

<b>          A MIDNIGHT BLUE CONTINENTAL - UNDERCRANKED
</b>          races toward her, about to run her over--

<b>          THE CONTINENTAL - UNDERCRANKED
</b>           SCREECHES to a stop, only inches from her.

<b>                          CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          148.
</b>
<b>                         389
</b>
<b>                         389 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         JULIE
</b>          turns to run.

<b>          ANOTHER LINCOLN CONTINENTAL
</b>          SCREECHES to a halt behind her, sandwiching her in.
          She tries to make a break for the warehouse.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton!!
          Guzman races out of one continental, Smiley out the other.

<b>                         390
</b>
<b>          390 INT. WAREHOUSE
</b>
           Darkman rushes to a window just in time to see Julie
           hustled into one of the Continental's. The car ROARS
          off.

<b>                          DARXMAN
</b>
<b>           JULIE!
</b>          He races toward the door.

<b>          MACHINE GUN FIRE
</b>          shatters the three windows and doors of the warehouse.
          Darkman climbs a steel rung ladder and heads for the
          roof.

<b>                         391
</b>
<b>          391 EXT. WAREHOUSE ROOF
</b>
          The bandaged Darkman climbs up onto the roof from the
          service ladder.

<b>          BUDDA-BUDDA-BUDDA!!
</b>          The rooftop is riddled by bullets.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          149.
</b>
<b>                         391
</b>
<b>                         391 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                          A HELICOPTER
</b>           rises suddenly into frame, over the edge of Peres a
           roof. leaning , o
           undin h h
          machine gun , p
          g t e roof with gunfire.

<b>                         392
</b>
<b>          392 INT. HELICOPTER
</b>
          hovering over the roof of the warehouse. Durant, Skip
          and Corky inside.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Peg 'em!

<b>                         393
</b>
<b>          393 EXT. ROOF
</b>
          Darkman rushes to the service ladder and climbs
          quickly down into the warehouse.

<b>                         394
</b>
<b>          394 INT. WAREHOUSE
</b>

<b>                         A DOOR
</b>          is kicked open as Smiley and Guzman enter, guns ps
          blazing, shooting the lab to hell. The gunfire sto
          and the lab is quiet.
          Guzman speaks quietly into a walkee-talkee.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          we're in.

<b>          DURANT' S ., VOICE
</b>          (from the walkee-

<b>                         TALKEE)
</b>          He just went down from the roof.

<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          Glances above to the darkened rafters ofathence one to
          warehouse. Then, signals for Smiley
          way. He will go another.
          They split up.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          150.
</b>
<b>          395 GUZMAN'S P.O.V. 395
</b>          The place is eerily still; we hear only an occasional
          computer beep.

<b>                         396 GUZMAN STARTS: 396
</b>
<b>                         GUZMAN
</b>          ...Holy San Juan de fuckeen
          Capistrano!

<b>          397 A DOZEN HUMAN FACES 397
</b>           hang on parallel clothes lines. Durant, Pauly, Skip,
           and Smiley. In the shadows, their eyeless heads are
           wrinkled and grotesquely life-like.
          398 Guzman moves through the gallery of faces. A breeze 398
           through the open window makes the clothes-line SQUEAK
           as the faces bob and nod to him.
          399 He stops suddenly. His body shudders at the sight of... 399

<b>                         400 A FACE 400
</b>           his own. Hanging on a hook.

<b>                         401 GUZMAN 401
</b>           panics, backs into a rack of clothing, knocking it
           over. . he races past the wigs, the faces...running for
           his life...

<b>          402 TWO SKELETAL HANDS 402
</b>          emerge from the darkness and latch around his throat!
          Guzman is yanked backward into the blackness without
          so much as a peep.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          151.
</b>
<b>                         403
</b>
<b>                         403 SMILEY
</b>          moves through the dimly lit lab area. Gun out,
          checking every crevice.

<b>                         404
</b>          404 Footsteps. Coming closer through the darkness.

<b>          URANT'S VOICE D
</b>          (from the walkee-

<b>                         TALKEE)
</b>          Come in, Smiley, come in! Come--

<b>          CLICK.
</b>
<b>                         405
</b>
<b>                         THE FOOTSTEPS
</b>          405 Smiley turns off the walkee-talkee.
           i m.
          are almost atop him. He takes a

<b>                         406
</b>
<b>          406 SMILEY'S P.O.V. - A SECOND SMILEY
</b>          racing out of the darkness at him.

<b>                         407
</b>
<b>                         407 SMILEY
</b>           is hip to the Darkman's game. He smiles. The gun
           belches flame at the masked figure.

<b>           BLAMMITY-BEAM!
</b>
<b>           BLAMMITY-BLAM!
</b>
<b>           BLAMMITY-BLAM!
</b>
<b>                          408
</b>
<b>          408 THE MASKED SMILEY
</b>          crumples to the floor. The bottom portion off fece
          Smiley mask is wrinkled, exposing a portion
          beneath.

<b>                         409
</b>
<b>                         409 SMILEY
</b>           peEjz back the mask with the barrel of his gun
           revealing. . GUZMAN!!

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          152.
</b>
<b>                         410
</b>
<b>                         410 SMILEY
</b>          loses his smile. A third Smiley stands slowly into
          frame behind the spooked Smiley.

<b>                         SMILEY #3/DAPYMAN
</b>          Good shootin'.

<b>                         411
</b>
<b>                         411 SMILEY
</b>
<b>                          TRIPLICATE AND
</b>           looks from the dead Smiley to his
           short as the
          SHRIEKS! But it's mercifully cut
          Darkman is upon him.

<b>                         412
</b>
<b>          412 INT. HELICOPTER
</b>
          Durant yells into the walkee-talkee with increasing
          urgency.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Guzman, come in! Smiley! Guzman!
          What the fuck is going on down there?!
          A burst of STATIC. Then:

<b>          DARKMAN' S VOICE
</b>          I am.
          Durant drops the walkee-talkee as if it were something
          hot.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>
<b>                         (FURIOUS; TO
</b>
<b>                         PILOT)
</b>          Take her down!

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene #s 2-17-89)

<b>          153.
</b>
<b>                         412 CONTINUED
</b>           The pilot lowers the throttle stick and

<b>                          412A
</b>           412A the chopper swoops down.

<b>                          413
</b>
<b>          413 A WHIRL CF PEBBLES
</b>          as the helicopter descends on the roof of the
          warehouse.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          I want that son of a bitch eliminated!
          And I don't want his fingers, I want
          his fucking head!

<b>          SKIP AND CORKY
</b>          run out onto the roof, assault rifles in hand.

<b>                         414
</b>
<b>          414 INT. WAREHOUSE
</b>
          Skip and Corky burst inside, freezing into combat
          crouches.
          They advance slowly across the room... not a sound in
          the darkness except their footsteps and the occasional
          beep of a computer... the air is tense with danger.

<b>                         SUDDENLY:
</b>
<b>          CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!
</b>          Skip and Corky whirl around as iron shutters slam down
          over the windows and doors, sealing the lab into an
          airtight prison.

<b>          OPEN GAS VALVES
</b>          HISS, filling the room with the explosive mix of
          oxygen and acetylene.

<b>                         415
</b>
<b>          415 INT. HELICOPTER
</b>
          Static on the walkee-talkee, then:

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scerm#s 2-17-89)

<b>          154.
</b>
<b>                         415 CONTIWM
</b>
<b>                         DARKMAN'S VOICE
</b>
<b>                         (EVIL RASP)
</b>          You're next.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Where are you?!
          Pilot.and Durant look toward the entrance of the
          warehouse. The door is closed. Suddenly...

<b>                         TO
</b>          WHOMPI--a bandaged hand slams into Durant's chest
          grab bim and start hauling him towards the door.
          The Darkman is dragging him out towards the roof.

<b>                         PILOT
</b>
<b>          WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!
</b>          Durant mashes the Darkman's arm with the door:

<b>                         DURANT
</b>
<b>          TAKE HER UP!
</b>
<b>                         416
</b>          416 The helicopter starts rising.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          is yanked from his feet.

<b>                         THE HELICOPTER
</b>          climbs, lifting the Darkman clear of the rooftop.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         417
</b>
<b>          417 INT. WAREHOUSE
</b>
          Skip and corky stand frozen. A small sound. They turn:

<b>                         H417
</b>
<b>          H417 THE PLASTIC BIRD
</b>          it bobs up. and down. The same toy that destroyed
          Peyton's lab. Durant's lighter lies on a platform just
          under the beak of the drinking bird. It bobs closer
          and closer to the switch on the lighter, about to make
          contact.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>           (Revised Scene Ms 2-17-89)

<b>           155.
</b>
<b>          417A SKIP 417A
</b>          dives for it, snatching it...
          .the hand clenches empty air. The bird is a
          transparent holograph. Skip turns in horror.
          HIS POV--nearby is the
          real bird, bobbing in'synch with the holograph.

<b>          EXTREME CLOSE SHOT - THE REAL BIRD'S BEAK
</b>          dips closer to the electronic lighter's ignition
          button.
          Closer... closer...

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         418 THE DARKMAN 418
</b>          gropes desperately at the floor of the helicopter
          for a handhold. His fingertips barely touch a rope
          ladder.

<b>                         419 DURANT 419
</b>          slides open the steel door and kicks viciously at his
          face, knocking him overboard.

<b>                         420 THE HELICOPTER 420
</b>          rising straight up as the Darkman tumbles backwards in
          free fall, back towards the roof.

<b>                         - 421 DARKMAN 421
</b>          His overcoat flapping as he somersaults down, he
          throws out one arm and...

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene #s 2-17-89)

<b>           156.
</b>
<b>          B422 CLOSE SHOT - BLUE SCREEN - DARKMANIS HAND B422
</b>          ...catches the last rung of the rope ladder that
          trails from the copter. It SNAPS taut as--

<b>          P422 BACKGROUND PLATE FOR PREVIOUS SCENE P422
</b>
<b>          EXT. SKY - PANNING DOWN.
</b>

<b>          P423 MINIATURE - EXT WAREHOUSE - P423
</b>           --KA-BOOM!! The roof below him blows.

<b>          B424 BLUE SCREEN B424
</b>          The arm is by
          the snap of

<b>          425 INT. HELICOPTER 425
</b>
           The force of the explosion ROCKS the helicopter. The
           pilot loses control and the helicopter spins wildly in
           rapid 360s like the speeded up arms of a clock.

<b>          B426 DARKMAN B426
</b>           is barely able to hold onto the ladder. Below him,
           P426 the tiny city is a spinning blur of metal and asphalt and P426
           glass.

<b>                         427 PILOT 427
</b>          He pulls the stick. Gradually the helicopter rights itself.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>
<b>          SHAKE HIM!
</b>
<b>                         428 THE HELICOPTER 428
</b>          banks sharply through the concrete canyons--a deadly
          game of crack the whip.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          157.
</b>
<b>                         429
</b>
<b>          429 SMASH!
</b>
<b>                         THE DEAN
</b>          is hurled through the window of an office on the 70th
          floor of a skyscraper.

<b>                         430
</b>
<b>          430 INT. OFFICE
</b>
          The Darkman, still holding the rope, finds himself on
          solid ground.

<b>          A BOARD MEETING
</b>          The executives stare in shock at the Darkman standing
          on their table.

<b>                         DARKMAN'S POV
</b>          The faces of the executives whirling in a circle like
          numbers on a roulette wheel.

<b>                          ' 431
</b>          431 Suddenly, the faces start to recede... SMASH!... The
          Darkman is yanked back out the window, breaking the
          remaining glass.

<b>                         432
</b>
<b>          432 ON THE STREET BELOW
</b>          pedestrians scurry from the rain of falling glass.
          Camera swishes up to reveal...

<b>                         433
</b>
<b>                         433 THE HELICOPTER
</b>          as it roars away from the skyscraper at an insane angle,
          the pilot having finally managed to regain some control.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          Dip him!

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          158.
</b>
<b>                         434
</b>
<b>                         434 THE HELICOPTER
</b>          angles sharply toward a busy freeway.

<b>                         435
</b>
<b>                         435 DARKMAN
</b>          is dipped into oncoming traffic. He barely clears the
          roof of a Cadillac by swinging his legs above it.

<b>                         436
</b>
<b>                         436 THE HELICOPTER
</b>          swoops lower.

<b>          THE DARICMAN' S LEGS
</b>          dangle six feet above the ground, whizzing over the
          asphalt at 100 miles per hour. The legs part as they
          pass over a motorcycle, then close again.

<b>                         437
</b>
<b>                         437 THE HELICOPTER
</b>          swoops lower, slamming the Darkman to the pavement. He
          drags for a moment, a pack of motorcycles WHIZZING past
          his head. Like a marionette, he's jerked back up right
          in front of an oncoming 1973 Delta 88 Oldsmobile. He is
          grazed by the car's hood. His body bounces off the
          windshield.

<b>                         438
</b>
<b>                         438 DARMAN
</b>          is lifted straight into the path of a fast-moving truck.
          Truck HONKS furiously. Darkman strains his legs.
          CLOSE-UP: TRACKING over the truck's aluminum roof.

<b>          CLANGITY CLANGITY CLANG
</b>
<b>          THE DARXMAN'S FEET
</b>          run 80 miles an hour along the roof of the truck.
          Darkman manages to loop the bottom rung of the rope
          ladder to a steel hook on the truck's cab.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Sc 9g 2-17-89)

<b>          159.
</b>
<b>                         439
</b>
<b>                         439 HELIER
</b>          Looking forward over Durant's and pilot's shoulders.
          The:pa3at has the stick. We are rushing directly
          town an overpass.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>
<b>          UP! PULL UP!
</b>
<b>                         440
</b>
<b>                         440 TRUCK ADOF
</b>          The ladder snaps taut against the hook.

<b>          HE LI C(STER
</b>          We are about to be obliterated.

<b>                         441
</b>          441 Pilot is yanking on the collective; the chopper whines.

<b>                         PILOT
</b>
<b>          SHE WON'T GO!!
</b>
<b>                         P441
</b>
<b>          P441 THE OVERPASS
</b>          rushing up.

<b>                         P442
</b>
<b>          P442 TRUCK ROOF
</b>          Wind whipping at his coat, looking up at the doomed
          helicopter, the Darkman bellows in triumph.

<b>                         B442
</b>          B442 Wind whipping at his coat looking up at the doomed
          helicopter, the Darkman bellows his triumph.

<b>                         P443
</b>
<b>                         P443 OVERPASS
</b>          taking up the entire screen.
          --impact--KABOOM!

<b>                         P444
</b>
<b>                         P444 TUNNEL
</b>
<b>                         B444
</b>          B444 Darkman, LAUGHING on the truck, races through the
          darkness,

<b>                         444A
</b>          444A flaming debris from the helicopter cascading
          over the mouth of the tunnel.

<b>                         CDT TO:
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          160.
</b>
<b>                         445
</b>
<b>          445 INT. STRACK'S OFFICE - NIGHT
</b>
          Strack sits behind his power desk, talking into the
          phone..

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          We've consolidated the waterfront,
          Governor ...Yes, I'm aware there's been
          some unpleasantness but that's over
          now. Yes, I'm sure. You sound a little
          nervous, Bryant. Have a brandy, watch
          a cop show.
          The door opens. A security officer appears.

<b>                         SECURITY OFFICER
</b>          Robert Durant, sir.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>
<b>                         (PLEASED)
</b>          Send him in.

<b>                         (TO PHONE)
</b>          Goodbye, Governor. Everything's taken
          care of.
          He hangs up. We hear the door open and close. Strack's
          smile vanishes.

<b>                         ROBERT DURANT
</b>          enters. He looks awful--face scorched and bruised,
          severe limp.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          You look like hell, Robert.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          The son of a bitch malfunctioned my
          helicopter.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          And Westlake?

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised scene numbers 2-17-89)

<b>          161.
</b>
<b>                         445 CONTINUE
</b>
<b>                         DURANT
</b>          'f ie man's a cockroach. You think you
          ;tall him, and he pops up someplace
          , Ise.
          A beat.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          g expect he'll pop up here soon.

<b>                         (PRESSES INTERCOM)
</b>          if Westlake calls, kindly refer him to
          Strack Towers.

<b>                         (TO DURANT)
</b>          Come, Robert, let us kill the girl.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>                         B446
</b>
<b>          B446 INT. A CONSTRUCTION ELEVATOR - NIGHT
</b>
           RATTLING up the steel skeleton of a skyscraper,

<b>                          P44
</b>          P446 stars all around us.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          I'm glad you survived, Robert. I'd
          hate to see your kids deprived of a
          role-model.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          They do look up to me.
          The elevator grinds to a halt and the two emerge. The
          lights of the city tremble over the water. A glitter
          and breadth to the landscape, an urban grandeur.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Kids need an example, Robert. When I
          was a young man my father made me work
          high steel. That's how he started out,
          and in his view what was good enough
          for him was good enough for me...

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scenes 2-17-89)

<b>          162.
</b>
<b>                         P446 CONTIKUED
</b>          Strack gestures broadly with one arm.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          ...It was just me and the Indians, no
          one else crazy enough to run around up
          here, against the wind, four-fifty an
          hour. Sure I resented it, but now--
          call me crazy--sometimes I miss it, it
          sharpens your wits. Life on the edge.
          Five inches wide. Two hundred fifty
          feet down. High steel...
          He turns to face Durant. There's a gun in his hand.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          You don't have any kids, Robert.

<b>                         DURANT
</b>          What are you talking about?

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Or should I say, Doctor Westlake?

<b>                         DUR ANT
</b>          I'm Durant! Robert G. Durant!

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Then I'm going to make a mistake.
          There's a long beat. The vein begins to pulse on
          Durant's temple. His eyes grow predatory, evil.

<b>                         DURANT/ DARMAN
</b>
<b>                         (RASPS)
</b>          Where's the girl?
          Strack hops nimbly out onto a narrow girder. He smiles
          back over his shoulder.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          You want to see the girl? Follow me,
          I'll take you to her...
          Durant/Darkman follows, taking the first few tentative
          steps.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>           (Revised Scene Is Z-37-89)

<b>           163.
</b>
<b>          P446 CONTINU3?D(2)
</b>
<b>                         STRACK
</b>          ...I must say, Dr. Westlake, you've
          certainly worked some mischief.
          Pretty much wiped out the security arm
          of Strack Industries. That's okay.
          I'm a good sport...
          He leaps from beam to beam, Durant/Darkman following
          cautiously behind.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          ...And I can handle my own problems.
          I do whatever I have to do. In fact,
          that's how I got my first properties.
          My wife--late wife--held certain
          deeds... I sent her on a plane trip
          over the Smokies and well, let's just
          say ;landed on My feet...

<b>                         (SHRUGS)
</b>          .as for my father, well, he was old,
          I spared him a few miserable years...
          Yes, we all have dreams, Dr. Westlake,
          but we don't all have what it takes to
          realize those dreams.

<b>                         DURANT/DARKMAN
</b>          All I have are nightmares.
          A beat.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Then share my dream. After all, you
          and I are pretty much the same. We
          should be working together. Both smart
          fellows. Similar styles. Same taste in
          women. I could use a man like you.

<b>          DURANT/DART AN
</b>
<b>                         (RASPS)
</b>          Go to hell.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Eventually, eventually...
          He proceeds nimbly along the beam.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>          (Revised Scene #s2-17-89)

<b>          164.
</b>
<b>                         P446 CONTINUED(3)
</b>
<b>                         STRACK
</b>          I guess you just don't have what it
          takes. I gather you run around wearing
          other people's faces now, since yours
          is so... loathsome.
          He shrugs.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          .See I could never do that. The
          world has to
          take me as I am. And all this tit-for-
          tat stuff you've been up to. Silly.
          Living in the past. ; only destroy to
          build something better, whereas You..â¢
          ah, here we are.

<b>                         447
</b>          447 Julie stands out on the end of a projecting girder, at
          the furthest extremity of the growing building. Wind
          whips at her hair and dress; she clings pathetically
          to an upright.

<b>                         DURANT/DARKMAN
</b>          Julie!
          Strack laughs.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Bring on the strings! Young lovers!
          In peril! Separated by ruthless
          forces, larger than they!--What a
          banal tale. In it, I suppose I play
          the villain. But wait, Julie--which
          of us is the monster here?!
          With this he reaches over to Durant and--SQUISHHHRIPPP!!
          -- tears his face off, tossing it over the edge..

<b>                         448
</b>          448 The face spins down, whooshing end over end, the wind
          flapping it this way and that. On the way down it slaps
          against the occasional girder, momentarily flattening
          out into the recognizable face of Durant, and then peels
          away again. It spins downward towards a forest of
          reinforcing bars that form a pungi pit of steel spikes
          in the open foundation below. Finally it lands--splat--
          pierced through the eye by one of the rusty re-bars.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          165.
</b>
<b>                         449
</b>
<b>                         449 JULIE
</b>          gazes at Darkman's ghastly visage for the first time,
          overcome by horror and repulsion. Darkman's vein pulses
          like csa y..
          Strack"s tone is almost admiring:

<b>          STR.ACK
</b>          You truly are one ugly son of a bitch.

<b>          BLAM!
</b>          Strack shoots Darkman in the shoulder, hurling him off
          the bean. The Darkman tumbles, limbs flailing, bellowing
          with rage.

<b>                         THE WORLD
</b>          Spinning upside down--stars, abyss, stars, abyss--

<b>                         GIRDER
</b>          As Darkman's fingertips clamp onto the upper lip of an
          I-beam... barely hanging on, vein pulsing.

<b>          ON THE UPPER GIRDER
</b>          Strack looks down, wind whipping his hair. HIS POV--
          nothing. Darkman has been swallowed up by the night.
          Pocketing his gun, Strack proceeds toward Julie.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          recoils as Strack stops in front of her. He touches her
          hair.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>
<b>                         (WITH REMORSE)
</b>          First my wife, then my father, and now

<b>                         YOU--
</b>          He places his hands on her shoulders, preparing to push
          her off the girder. With intensity:

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          166.
</b>
<b>                         449 CONTINUEN
</b>
<b>                         STRACK
</b>          -It is the tragedy of my life that I
          always have to kill the ones I love.
          As he's about to push her:

<b>          A VOICE BEHIND HIM
</b>          IDuis !
          Strack turns around.

<b>                         450
</b>          4 5 0 STRACK St.
          stands behind him, glaring angrily.

<b>          STRACK JR.
</b>          Father?

<b>          STRACK SR.
</b>
<b>                         (HORRIBLE RASP)
</b>          I should've snuffed you out at birth!
          With that Strack Sr. rips off his own face, exposing
          the enraged visage of Darkman... Strack reaches for
          his gun.

<b>                         451
</b>
<b>          451 BAM!
</b>          Darkman mashes his face and the gun flies out of his
          hand into the darkness below.

<b>          STRACK AND DARXMAN
</b>
<b>                         OF
</b>          battle it out on the narrow girder, hundreds of feet
          sure death on either side of them.

<b>          BAM! BAM! BAM!
</b>          Savage punches send Strack reeling--BAM!--he falls onto
          the girder... nearby are a bunch of tools... Strack
          crawls toward them.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          167.
</b>          451 CONTI1rn D 451

<b>          A RIVET GUN
</b>          only a few inches from his grasp.

<b>                         DARIOM
</b>          swoops onto Strack, pummelling him.

<b>                         STRACR'S HAND
</b>          inching painfully toward the rivet gun.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          pummelling, lost in the act of his final revenge. He
          steps back to give a final blow...
          .and slips on some loose rivets, flailing for balance.

<b>                         STRACK
</b>          lunges. CLANG! Darkman slams into a vertical bar.

<b>          ZMMMMMM! Z !
</b>
<b>                         452
</b>          452 The rivet gun shoots a bolt through Darkman's wrist,
          then the other wrist--pinning him to the I-beam...
          Strack takes a step backward, exhausted.

<b>                         453
</b>
<b>                         453 STRACK
</b>
<b>                         STRACK
</b>          Now you get to watch your girl-friend
          die.
          He moves toward a terrified Julie.

<b>                         DARXMAN
</b>          SHRIEKS and reality melts around him as he tastes the
          hot soup of rage.

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          454 CRACK!
</b>          Gigantic fissures appear on all the girders... we spin
          into Darkman's eyeball to find--

<b>          455 THE ULTIMATE RAGE MONTAGE 455
</b>          Nightmarish flashes of laughing faces jeering into the
          camera; Julie and Strack kissing, naked.
          456 Strack's face bobs, attached now to the body of the 456
          dunking bird, his nose nearing the ignition of a huge
          lighter. As contact is made the lighter explodes in a
          shower of gold Krugerands.
          457 The gold coins fall away to reveal Peyton's unscathed 457
          head, bobbing on a freakish and deformed doll's body.
          Atop a circus platform, he does an angry jig. He wears
          a funny little hat.
          458 Peyton's face liquefies and flows off his head to reveal- 458
          the face of the Darkman.
          459 A drop of liquid Peyton falls upon... A cube of ice. It 459
          bursts into flames.
          460 The camera races back from Darkman's eye.. his vein 460
          pulsing madly.

<b>          461 DARXMAN'S RIVETED HAND 461
</b>           insensitive to pain, he pulls, every sinew concentrated
           on the task. GGGGGGGG ! A horrible grating
           sounds as the first rivet rips through steel... One hand
           is freed. GGGGGGG ! .The other is freed.

<b>                         462 STRACK 462
</b>          with his back to him, doesn't have a chance to turn as:

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          169.
</b>
<b>                         462 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          pounces.
          He lifts him full into the air. Strack's legs and arms
          flail impotently.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>
<b>          ARRRRRRRGGGGGGG !
</b>          Darkman hurls him up, up into the air.
          463 Strack rises helpless, flailing his limbs... then begins 463
          to fall, yards away from the girder.
          464 He spins, end over end, to--PPHHHHFFFTHHMP!--be impaled 464
          on the rebars many floors below, next to Durant's face.

<b>                         CUT TO:
</b>
<b>          465 INT. CONSTRUCTION ELEVATOR 465
</b>
          HUMMING at the cut. Darkman and Julie are inside.
          Darkman remains turned from Julie, facing the shadows.
          Gently, Julie touches his shoulder to draw him toward
          her.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton, I can help.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          No one can help.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          I don't care how you look, Peyton! I.
          love you. The burns don't matter.
          There's a long pause. Then Darkman turns the twisted
          remains of. his face toward her. Julie sees them in
          close-up.
          CLAMP! The elevator jars to a halt on street level.

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          170.
</b>
<b>                         465 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          Take my hand.
          Julie stares at the charred skeletal fingers. She
          overcomes her repulsion and puts her hand in his.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          It disgusts you.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          No.
          Darkman stares at her a long time, anguished, torn.

<b>                         FINALLY:
</b>
<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          This hand... it used to caress you.
          Now it can only tear, rip away at
          things.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>
<b>                         (ANXIOUS;
</b>
<b>                         PERSUASIVE)
</b>          But you'll perfect the skin. You'll
          get rid of the scars.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          It's not just the scars. I've changed-
          He grips his skull.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          --inside.
          He pulls the elevator open.

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>
<b>                         (BEAT)
</b>          I can live with it now, but I don't
          think anyone else can.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          (tears in her

<b>                         EYES)
</b>          I want it back. The two of us--the way
          it was...
          Darkman's voice breaks:

<b>                         CONTINUED
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          171.
</b>
<b>                         465 CONTINUED(2)
</b>
<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          What we had--our life together--it
          belonged in the light of day.
          He disappears into the darkness.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton!
          Darkman's voice floats back as he stalks away:

<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>          Peyton is gone...
          466 He heads into the shadows. At the edge of the darkness 466
          he pulls a mask from his coat and disappears behind a
          construction trailer. A pedestrian reappears on the other
          side.
          Julie knows it's!Darkman. She chases after him but he
          slips into the pedestrian traffic.
          The camera hurries down the street with Julie as she
          desperately searches for him, turning people around,
          staring at their faces... It begins to snow.

<b>                         JULIE
</b>          Peyton!
          She rushes from pedestrian to pedestrian, staring into
          alien faces in search of the man she loves.

<b>          AS WE ROLL END CREDITS
</b>          The camera pulls back into the crowd of pedestrians,
          any one of who could be Darkman... We continue to pull
          back, down avenues and side-streets, byways, courtyards,
          wherever the crowd spills, into an alley... As a street-
          person shuffles into view:

<b>          467 A MUSCULAR HAND 467
</b>          snaps open a switch-blade. A second set of arms grabs
          the street person and spins him around, revealing--

<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>                         
</b>
<b>          172.
</b>
<b>                         467 CONTINUED
</b>
<b>          THE CHARRED SKULL OF DARKMAN
</b>          Wild, half-mad eyes gleam wickedly from boney sockets.
          Mandibles yank back and, through a lipless smile, he

<b>                         RASPS:
</b>
<b>                         DARKMAN
</b>
<b>          RUN FOR YOUR LIFE::
</b>
<b>          CUT TO BLACK
</b>

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	<td><h1>Darkman</h1><br><br>
	    <b>Writers</b> : &nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/writer.php?w=Joshua Goldin" title="Scripts by Joshua Goldin">Joshua Goldin</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/writer.php?w=Daniel Goldin" title="Scripts by Daniel Goldin">Daniel Goldin</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/writer.php?w=Sam Raimi" title="Scripts by Sam Raimi">Sam Raimi</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/writer.php?w=Ivan Raimi" title="Scripts by Ivan Raimi">Ivan Raimi</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/writer.php?w=Chuck Pfarrer" title="Scripts by Chuck Pfarrer">Chuck Pfarrer</a><br>
    	<b>Genres</b> : &nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/genre/Action" title="Action Scripts">Action</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/genre/Crime" title="Crime Scripts">Crime</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/genre/Sci-Fi" title="Sci-Fi Scripts">Sci-Fi</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/genre/Thriller" title="Thriller Scripts">Thriller</a><br><br><br>
		
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Who does Westlake impersonate to get revenge?
Who does Westlake impersonate to get revenge ?
Robert Durant
Robert Durant
HIS ENEMIES
HIS ENEMIES