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Franklin, Howard
Bach, Danilo
Seltzer, David
SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME (1986)
In this brooding thriller directed by Ridley Scott, the life of wealthy socialite Claire Gregory (Mimi Rogers) becomes endangered after she witnesses a mob murder. Happily married New York City cop Mike Keegan (Tom Berenger) is assigned to protect Claire and takes up residence in her home while she waits to testify. When a romance develops between the mismatched pair, Mike's marriage to Ellie (Lorraine Bracco) is threatened.
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Franklin, Howard. SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME
Someone To Watch Over me Script
FADE IN:
INT. MIKE’S HOUSE - QUEENS - EARLY EVENING
Winter. A celebration. Close friends, cop friends,
family all here to celebrate patrolman MIKE KEEGAN’S
promotion to detective, NYPD.
The party spills through the house -- front room, dining
room, kitchen, with a small fenced backyard visible beyond
that. A community of cops on their off-hours, their
wives, kids. A mix of generations, all the way from
MIKE’S kid, TOMMY, and his FRIENDS, playing among the
adults, to an elderly woman observing quietly from her
chair at the side. The mood’s warm, spirited; there’s a
lot of friendship here.
ANGLE: MIKE, in the dining room, posing for a photo with
his ten-year-old son, TOMMY, proudly displaying his new
gold detective’s SHIELD pinned to his jersey.
MIKE
(calling to his
wife, for a family
portrait)
Ellie! C’mon! Over here!
ANGLE: ELLIE, MIKE’S wife of fifteen years, a local
product, bright and lively, and clearly proud as hell of
her man. She frees herself from the crush of friends,
hurrying to join him.
ANGLE: MIKE, ELLIE giving him a full-mouthed smack on the
lips as he hooks her into his arms.
The picture’s snapped, to a chorus of hoots and hollers.
Behind, a banner and poster blowup of Mike in gun and
uniform read: "FINALLY THEY’VE RECOGNIZED YOU, DETECTIVE
KEEGAN."
SCOTTY, a patrolman with the 117th and one of MIKE’S best
pals, puts his hand vigorously, in congratulations, on
MIKE’S SHOULDER.
SCOTTY
(to Mike)
No joke? You’re being transferred
to the 19th as your first
assignment? Who the hell loves your
ass downtown?
ROOKIE
(naively)
What’s the 21st?
BROOKLYN, a cop about Mike’s age, joins in.
SCOTTY
What d’you care? You’ll never know.
BROOKLYN
Manhattan. The Upper East Side,
East 59th to 96th.
The ROOKIE stares, impressed.
SCOTTY
(to the others)
Remember Curran from the Sixteenth?
He posted a coupla months there on a
floater outside the French embassy.
He met Jackie Kennedy.
BROOKLYN
Curran, that fuckin’ noodlehead. He
probably wrote her up for letting
her dog dump on Rockefeller’s
doorstep.
ANGLE ON MIKE, trying to swallow a mouthful of potato
salad as a plump and pretty middle-aged woman (HELEN
GREENING) pulls him into a bear hug, planting a kiss on
him.
HELEN
Mmmmmm-glimmmeee-kisss! I’m so
proud of you! What the hell took
you so long?
MIKE
Hey, don’t ask me. Ask the man who
put in the good word.
ANGLE ON T.J. GREENING, Helen’s husband, Mike’s best
friend. He’s forty, stocky, looks up, horsing around with
some of the kids in the next room.
MIKE
If T.J. didn’t push for me, I never
would’ve made it.
BROOKLYN
Bet your ass... I give you six weeks
before you’re back on the beat,
Keegan, they got no room for hero
cops...
MIKE
Appreciate, that vote of confidence,
Brook.
BROOKLYN
Hey, am I supportive, or what?
ANGLE ON TOMMY: in the hallway, trying to show SCOTTY’S
date -- a "real" BIMBO, who’s spilling out of her woolly
sweater and tight jeans -- how to stand on his SKATEBOARD.
She shrieks a laugh, toppling off. HELEN, passing by with
an empty platter, catches the action.
INT. KITCHEN - SAME
ELLIE, another WIFE at the sink, wives all; HELEN enters.
HELEN
He left Elaine for that?
WIFE #1
And what about little Scotty?
ELLIE continues washing the dishes as HELEN and the WIFE
dry. MIKE enters to get more beers.
HELEN
(still staring)
I’d like to tie her tits together.
ELLIE
That wouldn’t be too difficult.
MIKE
(overhearing)
I bet you think she doesn’t have a
brain in her head. I bet you think
the only thing he sees in her is one
incredible, dynamite body...
He GRINS at their blank stares... ELLIE’S EYES wryly
following... as he moves on out with his beers.
HELEN
I love your husband, Ellie, but he’s
a real dork.
ELLIE
Yeah, but he’s my dork.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. MIKE’S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Night has descended, PEOPLE talking and laughing quietly,
MELLOW music is playing -- CAMERA FINDING MIKE AND ELLIE,
dancing close, moving sensually. It’s impressive. HELEN
convinces T.J. to DANCE. SCOTTY and BIMBO join in too.
T.J., whipped, extricates himself and Helen; tousling
Mike’s hair in affection.
T.J.
We’re goin’. Get some sleep,
Detective Keegan. You got a new job
tomorrow.
CUT TO:
INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT
MIKE is holding TOMMY asleep on his shoulder.
ELLIE appears, completing the family portrait.
MIKE
(a whisper)
Think I should put the skateboard in
bed with him?
ELLIE
Too kinky.
MIKE smiles and climbs the stairs.
INT. MIKE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT
ELLIE in the bathroom, the door open, she brushes her
hair.
MIKE in bed, thoughtful, a happy man.
MIKE
Ellie, you know I think it’s about
time we got outa this place, get us
a house of our own. We can afford
it now.
ELLIE
Amen to that. The supermarket’s
full of assholes.
MIKE
Take my advice, don’t buy any...
MIKE waits for a response. None comes.
ELLIE
Mike?
MIKE
(aware of her change
in tone)
What?
ELLIE
My ass if falling.
MIKE
Your what...?
ELLIE
My ass is falling. It is.
MIKE
(a laugh)
What are you talking about?
ELLIE
(appears in the door;
stricken)
I just saw it in the mirror, it
doesn’t look like my ass anymore.
MIKE
Get in bed.
ELLIE
What am I gonna do? I jog, I do the
exercises on TV in the morning...
gravity...
MIKE
You got a great ass! I love your
ass -- now get that falling ass into
bed before it hits the floor.
She does -- the lights snap put. They giggle, she MOVING
into his arms.
ELLIE
(a declaration)
Tomorrow, I start looking for our
house... You love me?
MIKE
(deeply)
You got no idea...
ELLIE
Imagine... I’m sleepin’ with a DT.
Another muted laugh -- and they move into an EMBRACE,
CAMERA PANNING WITH THEM, and then STILL FARTHER INTO THE
DARKNESS.
THE DARKNESS HOLDS.
EXT. EAST RIVER - (AERIAL) - NIGHT
... Becoming a darkness pricked with light, as WE FLOAT
over the reflective river, MOVING WEST TOWARD AND OVER THE
CITY.
EXT. MANHATTAN - (AERIAL CONTINUED) - NIGHT
The fabled city, the ultimate object of man’s desire and
fulfillment, Oz, the city unfolding itself before and
beneath us, till DAZZLING SHAFTS OF LIGHT sizzling up --
KLEIG LIGHTS -- stab our eyes and bring us down into their
BLINDING BRIGHTNESS...
EXT. CLUB - MIDTOWN - NIGHT
A nondescript piece of rundown city block that’s the
hottest thing in town. PERSONNEL regulate the CROWD and
ARRIVALS. There is a public line, and from it the young,
hip and outrageous can look on while awaiting entrance at
the formally dressed, stylishly gowned GUESTS arriving at
the private line.
A glittering post-Metropolitan Museum of Art opening gala
is in progress tonight. The club’s private entrance looks
like what it once was, a shuttered porno bookstore, and
the joke’s not lost on most of the formal GUESTS, arriving
through the X-rated doorway.
INT. CLUB - NIGHT
The latest achievement of money, rock and art. It’s a
breathtaking multi-leveled theater of light, sound and
dance.
There is also an entrance-by-invitation-only grand salon.
ANGLE
The GUESTS arriving here for the Met gala enter almost in
enchanted procession, each of them being personally
greeted by the primary owner and manager of the club, WIN
HOCKINGS, a charming, rakish ex-preppy. WIN stands in the
middle of the floor in the throw of a spot, greeting.
This is his element and his club, a son of old money, and
a crossover creature to the fast life.
WIN
Hi... nice to see you... thank
you... my pleasure...
A MET BENEFACTRESS
(effusively)
Thank you so much for agreeing to
host us tonight. It’s really
extraordinary!
WIN
Glad I could be of help.
CAMERA MOVING IN ON A NEW ANGLE, CLAIRE GREGORY and NEIL
STEINHART. The way our CAMERA covers them makes it clear
they are major characters in our story. NEIL steps
forward to introduce himself, but WIN, looking up, spots
CLAIRE first: A special beauty and clearly someone very
special to him...
WIN
Claire!
CLAIRE
Hello, Win.
And he embraces her.
CLAIRE
(introducing her
companion)
You know Neil Steinhart?
He grins broadly, taking NEIL’S hand; then right back to
CLAIRE.
WIN
Of the filthy rich Steinharts? Why
is it Claire always connects with
the richest men this side of Saudi?
NEIL
(to Win; meaning the
club)
This gives new meaning to the word
nightlife.
WIN acknowledges the obligatory compliment with a closed
smile, impatiently returning to CLAIRE:
WIN
C’mon, let’s get outa this lowbrow
rag trade...
(smiles, cutting
Neil out)
You don’t mind, do you?
NEIL stares, polite, as WIN whisks her away; turning, as
he is addressed by someone else coming his way.
EXT. THE CLUB - NIGHT
as a BLACK PORSCHE PULLS UP, its dark-tinted window
rolling down TO REVEAL JOEY VENZA. The MANAGER of the
club comes over to him, with a clipboard list of only the
invitees.
MANAGER
(a dilemma)
I’m sorry, Mr. Venza...
VENZA jams the ACCELERATOR to the FLOOR, the CAR burning
rubber like a DRAGSTER as PEOPLE SQUEAL and JUMP OUT of
the way; the CAR fish-tailing away, screeching AROUND the
CORNER.
INT. CLUB - NIGHT
WIN and CLAIRE. The music, noise, other conversations can
still be heard as they walk through the club.
He smiles, mid-conversation; there’s a real affection
here.
WIN
Skiddy and Kit? I haven’t seen them
since that shitty pasta dinner on
the cape.
CLAIRE
They’ve got two monsters now. Both
boys.
WIN
And so what’s with Steinhart? Is it
serious?
CLAIRE
You didn’t like him?
WIN
Looks a little constipated to me.
CLAIRE
(needling him)
It’s called "solid"... Nice to find
someone you can count on, Win.
CUT TO:
INT. BASEMENT - REAR - ENTRANCE - NIGHT
VENZA entering, a rush, NOISE and ACTIVITY from the alley
outside; the throbbing new MUSIC overhead.
JOEY VENZA
Immaculate as always, in a conservatively-cut European
pinstripe, VENZA strides tautly into the shabby corridors.
CUT TO:
INT. MEZZANINE - MAIN BAR - NIGHT
WIN shows CLAIRE the main dance floor below, sound-filled
and crowded, private and paying GUESTS mixing,
indistinguishable now. He raises his voice to be heard.
WIN
The main floor stays public. The
side rooms we try to keep available
for special functions like tonight.
He turns and takes her arm.
CLAIRE
It’s terrific Win.
WIN
You still writing the occasional
magazine article?
CLAIRE
Occasionally.
WIN
Then c’mon. Follow me. The art’s in
the basement, you’re going to get a
privileged peek.
He leads her to the freight elevator.
VOICE (O.S.)
Claire!
A sociable FOURSOME descends on them. It looks like it’s
going to be a long conversation.
WIN
(to Claire, quietly)
Just press the button all the way
down when you’re ready, okay?
He turns as she’s engulfed, heading towards the elevator,
runs into NEIL, CLAIRE’S escort. NEIL doesn’t see her.
NEIL
Where’s she go?
WIN
Probably found somebody nicer...
Kidding. You’re great.
He smiles, entering the elevator and disappearing from
view. NEIL looking around, with thinly-veiled impatience,
at the benefit-types streaming into the room.
INT. BASEMENT TUNNELS - NIGHT
VENZA navigates the labyrinth that connects to the
offices.
INT. BASEMENT - NIGHT
The elevator reaches bottom. WIN exits into an area of
tall rows of stacked boxes still awaiting unloading.
Beyond, a bright, high-ceilinged linen whiteness gleams.
It’s a soon-to-be restaurant-gallery area.
THE RESTAURANT GALLERY
The walls have already been painted white. Tables have
been positioned. Chairs are stacked, waiting. So are
mounds of folded laundry and tablecloths, boxes of
accessories, glass and dish and kitchenware, etc.
Except for FRED, the elderly stock boy, the bright silence
is empty.
FRED scores open the sealed cardboard cartons with a
curved case cutter. Several tablefuls of unloaded
servers, kitchen utensils, etc., bear witness to the size
of his job.
WIN
You’re in overtime, Freddy.
FRED nods, putting down his case cutter, using a side
exit.
WIN, left alone, turns to look up proudly at his
powerhouse modern art collection lining the wall.
INT. MEZZANINE - NEAR ELEVATOR - NIGHT
CLAIRE extricating herself; to the foursome.
CLAIRE
I will... I promise...
She smiles graciously and steps into the freight elevator,
pushing the down button. The doors close.
INT. BASEMENT TUNNELS - NIGHT
VENZA approaches an intersection. Ahead, FRED crosses on
his way to the offices. The elderly STOCK BOY doesn’t see
VENZA, but VENZA sees him, realizing where else to look
here.
INT. FREIGHT ELEVATOR - NIGHT
CLAIRE closes her eyes, leaning back against the metal
walls, taking advantage of the refuge for the moment.
Music and crowd noise still vibrate. The elevator,
shuddering, continues its descent.
INT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT
WIN turns in the silence, looking out over the bright
space edged by darkness, every reason to be pleased.
WIN doesn’t even hear VENZA enter.
VENZA
(bear, icily)
You need money, you come to me.
WIN turns.
VENZA
(approaching,
soundlessly)
Who the fuck do you think you are,
raising cash without coming to me?
WIN
(calmer)
Your ex-partner... I’m buying you
out, Joey. Read the contract.
There’s ample provision.
VENZA
Fuck the contract!
INT. ELEVATOR - BASEMENT - NIGHT
The elevator arrives. The doors open. CLAIRE steps out
into the shadowed area of stacked rows.
INT. RESTAURANT - WIN AND VENZA
VENZA
(stares, wildly)
Two years ago you were begging me
for the money. Nobody would’ve
touched you...
WIN
You’re making an eighty percent
return. Which is what you wanted.
WIN turn away from VENZA. VENZA grabs his arm violently.
VENZA
Don’t turn away when I’m talking to
you.
WIN
(beat with
deliberation)
Grease and water still don’t mix,
Joey.
VENZA
slashes one of the canvases (A Rosenquist) with the case
cutter... Then another...
ANGLE - WIN
WIN
(stunned)
Jesus Christ... are you crazy?
ANGLE
Venza slashes another.
WIN
Joey!
VENZA
turns, slashing WIN.
WIN
gasps. Blood begins to seep from his wound.
ANGLE - CLAIRE
hearing, emerges into the light, smiling, thinking WIN’S
saying something she’s supposed to respond to.
VENZA
slashing WIN again, losing all control.
WIN
(staggering back)
Jesus...!
CLAIRE ROUNDS THE CORNER
Seeing WIN, she stops.
ANGLE
VENZA continues to attack him, stabbing WIN to the floor.
CLAIRE
screams, unable to imagine or believe it.
VENZA
looks up, hearing her.
WIN sprawls, a lifeless, bloodied mass at VENZA’S feet.
VENZA stares, returning CLAIRE’S stare, trying to
concentrate, to focus and pull himself back together. He
puts down the cutter, taking a step toward her.
CLAIRE
steps back, turning and moving back toward the elevator,
running.
VENZA
quickens his step, after her.
ANGLE ON THE ELEVATOR
as she REACHES IT and HURTLES inward, HITTING all the
BUTTONS, the doors beginning to RUMBLE CLOSED. But VENZA
is there, THRUSTING HIS HAND INSIDE to stop them. The
doors CLOSE on his fingers. He cries out, pulling his
fingers free. He slams his fist against the doors as they
close shut, POUNDS the button again.
ANGLE INSIDE - CLAIRE
But CLAIRE grabs the POWER SWITCH, pulling it -- the
elevator goes dead, the overhead lights go out -- and
somewhere, in the shaft above, an ALARM BELL begins to
RING.
Relentlessly, VENZA pounds on the other side of the door.
CLOSE ON CLAIRE
giving way in the darkened cubicle.
ANOTHER ANGLE - CLAIRE
sagging against the elevator wall, weeping, hearing
VENZA’S FRANTIC BREATHING on the other side subside, and
finally move away in the darkness.
INT. MIKE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT
The PHONE RINGING -- a hand fumbling on the telephone in
the darkness. WE HEAR MIKE’S VOICE as he turns on the
light.
MIKE
T.J...? Is this a joke? Are you
kidding me?
(listening, not
liking what he
hears)
Give me 20 minutes.
MIKE hanging up the phone, turns to ELLIE.
ELLIE
(mumbling from under
the covers)
Switch the light off on your way
out.
CUT TO:
INT. UNMARKED CAR - NIGHT
MIKE and T.J. disheveled and tired, drinking out of
styrofoam coffee cups, arriving at the club.
T.J.
(grinning)
Hey Mike, out of the bag into the
bureau, huh... How do you like it so
far?
MIKE
(giving a half smile)
Right behind you, T.J.
CUT TO:
INT. THE CLUB - NIGHT
A rare tableau; swirling disco lights reflecting off
strategically placed mirrors, illuminating a room filled
with POLICEMEN (in uniforms and polyester suits), trying
to ride herd on the BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE, in contrasting
attire.
The man in charge and coping is LIEUTENANT GARBER; in
plainclothes, fiftyish, rough-hewn.
GARBER
Did you ever hear the chatter.
They’re worse than fuckin’ four-
year-olds... Miller, let’s clear
this path here, all right?
T.J. and MIKE arrive.
GARBER
(to them, on the
move)
Blood bath downstairs. The owner of
this place is dead. And I got a
witness, and a suspect... Joey
Venza.
T.J. reacts to the name.
T.J.
Where’s Venza?
GARBER
Nice question. I like questions
like that.
A massive "GASP" goes up from the CROWD as a cumbersome
BODYBAG is brought up a stairwell from downstairs. GARBER
temporarily moves away to oversee.
MIKE
(to T.J.)
Who’s Joey Venza?
T.J.
Bad fuckin’ news. Even the families
dropped him when they found they had
a fruitcake on their hands. But he
knows where a lot of bodies are
buried. It’d cap it for Garber if
he could bring him in.
GARBER
(returning, re: the
crowd)
Okay, let’s find out what we know.
Herd’m up and check’m out. Anybody
know more than gossip about the
deceased or Venza, I wanna talk to
them myself. Go.
T.J. moves into action with typical "T.J. style"
diplomacy.
T.J.
Okay, will all the beautiful people
shut the fuck up, before it starts
gettin’ real ugly here!
The uniformed COPS take their cue, moving in for quiet.
GARBER
(to Mike, the "new
boy")
Keegan, go baby-sit the witness.
Just sit and look impressive. Make
her feel protected. And if you can
get her boyfriend outa my hair, I’ll
promote you to fuckin’ Joint
Chiefs...
CUT TO:
EXT. WIN HOCKINGS’ OFFICE - CLUB - NIGHT
A uniformed COP guarding the door as MIKE approaches,
flashing his shield.
COP
Quit playing with yourself, Keegan.
I know who you are.
MIKE
(grinning)
A Detective’s supposed to identify
himself.
CUT TO:
INT. WIN HOCKINGS’ OFFICE - NIGHT
The room is dim, lit only by a desk lamp, CLAIRE seated on
a couch, catatonic, NEIL kneading her hand, trying to
comfort her. A KNOCK at the DOOR: NEIL JUMPS UP to open
it -- MIKE ENTERING before he gets there.
NEIL
(upset)
Are you in charge here?
MIKE
No, sir...
NEIL
I asked for the man in charge...
MIKE
That would be Lieutenant Garber, and
he’s very busy upstairs...
NEIL
Don’t tell me he’s "busy". I asked
for an ambulance for this woman
and...
MIKE
Is she injured?
CLAIRE
(softly)
No.
MIKE gets his first view of her as she TURNS her head into
the light. It is an almost storybook vision of beauty
that emerges from the darkness around her; her
vulnerability penetrates to the very core.
NEIL
(to Claire)
You’re not going to talk to anyone
without a lawyer.
MIKE
She’s not a suspect, sir, she’s a
witness. Could I ask you to step
outside, please.
NEIL
No, I will not step outside.
MIKE
Sir, I am just trying to do my job,
it’s standard procedure to question
the witness alone. Help me out
here, could you please leave.
NEIL
(icily)
I don’t really see what that has to
do with...
CLAIRE
(deadened; to Neil)
Neil, do what he says.
ANGLE ON MIKE AND NEIL: at a standoff.
CLAIRE
(quietly)
Please.
MIKE OPENS THE DOOR for NEIL. NEIL reluctantly swallows
it.
NEIL
I’ll be right outside.
NEIL grudgingly leaves. MIKE quietly closes the door.
ANGLE CHANGE: CLAIRE and MIKE alone. He sits down. A
beat.
MIKE
Can I get you a cup of coffee or
something?
Her plaintive eyes turning to meet his.
CLAIRE
(lost)
I’ve never seen anyone killed
before.
MIKE
It’s okay... I’ve never been a
detective before either...
She lifts her gaze quizzically, catching his smile. She
returns it in spite of herself, disarmed by his frankness,
and curiously reassured.
MIKE
We’ll go slow. Okay? We’ll get
through it together.
CUT TO:
INT. DOWNTOWN HEADQUARTERS - DAY
PHONES RINGING, TYPEWRITERS TYPING, BODIES moving at
cross-current -- CAMERA FINDING LIEUTENANT GARBER,
hustling through the bullpen, MIKE FOLLOWING, toward his
office.
GARBER
I don’t know how you did it, but
whatever it was, keep doing it.
MIKE
(puzzled)
I just sat and listened.
GARBER
Safe and secure is how we want her.
Until she I.D.’s Venza.
T.J. has joined them.
GARBER
Venza’s either going to skip or try
to get to her and Venza likes it
here. I want her ass covered, 24
hour protection, but I don’t want
her to know there is any real
danger.
T.J.
I don’t like what I’m hearing...
MIKE
(to Garber)
I don’t understand. If there’s any
danger, why not just level with
her...
GARBER turns back to MIKE
GARBER
(with mock tolerance)
T.J. your friend’s a little dense.
When she realizes there’s a killer
tryin’ to shut her up, she’ll be on
the next plane for Tahiti... somehow
I think my way is better.
He MOVES ON, leaving them not very happy.
MIKE
Chief?
GARBER turns back.
MIKE
Why not Patrol? They’d do just as
good a job.
GARBER
When I want your advise, Keegan,
I’ll make an appointment.
GARBER MOVES ON OUT. MIKE and T.J. left alone.
MIKE
(disappointed)
Shit! A Nursemaid! My first
detail, and I’m a fuckin’ slug!
(turning to T.J.)
I got a ’choice’ at all.
T.J.
Do it, or look for another
profession. That’s a choice I
guess.
MIKE
You in this with me?
T.J.
Yeah! Seniority gets the day shift.
EXT. BACK OF MIKE’S HOUSE - DAY
ELLIE IS SEEN unloading groceries from the rear of a small
hatchback...
INT. MIKE’S HOUSE - DAY
MIKE is in the kitchen; he’s making eggs in agitation,
throwing in everything he can find (tuna fish, chopped
pickles, mustard), his kid, TOMMY, in evidence in the
b.g., on a SKATEBOARD, whizzing through the kitchen, even
RIDING IT down the STAIRS.
MIKE MOVES TO A CABINET -- and his FEET GO OUT FROM UNDER
HIM. He’s slipped on a SKATEBOARD -- barely catching
himself in time.
MIKE
(yelling)
Tommy! Goddamnit! Get these
skateboards off the goddamn kitchen
floor!
TOMMY whizzes through, expertly picking it up "on the
move," MIKE taking a futile swipe at him.
TOMMY
What’re we having?
MIKE
My special, scrambled eggs surprise.
TOMMY
(frowns dubiously)
Scrambled eggs surprise?
TOMMY goes whizzing on out again. ELLIE comes in loaded
up with the groceries. Puts them down, giving MIKE a
kiss.
ELLIE
So how’d it go?
MIKE
Not great. I’ve got a babysitting
job for a material witness on a
homicide.
It explains his mood. ELLIE starts putting away the
groceries.
ELLIE
For how long?
MIKE
’Til they pick up the perp.
(he sits)
Seniority gets day shift... You know
what that means.
CLOSE ON ELLIE: she sits, realizing, upset, but taking it
in stride, now putting plates on the table.
ELLIE
Well, I’ll live with it, I’ve lived
with it all my life. My Dad was a
cop, he said, "whatever you do,
honey, never go out with a cop".
So, what did I do? I got a job with
the cops. Then I married a cop. I
probably gave birth to a cop.
(shouting)
Tommy! Come over here and eat, it’s
hot.
TOMMY enters.
MIKE
Maybe you and Tommy should stay with
my Mom.
ELLIE makes an expression of dislike.
MIKE
Don’t start... The only reason is
that the neighborhood’s shi...
(realizing that
Tommy is listening)
... crummy. I just don’t like the
idea of leaving you alone here at
night.
ELLIE
I can still use a gun.
MIKE
Just keep it someplace safe, but
handy.
TOMMY joins then at the table.
TOMMY
(zooming in)
Keep what handy?
ELLIE
Nothing.
TOMMY
The gun? It’s in the upstairs
closet.
MIKE
How do you know where the gun is?
TOMMY
I know where everything is.
MIKE
Except the goddamn skateboards,
which are everywhere! I’d like to
kill the guy who invented those
things.
TOMMY
Lay back, Mack.
MIKE
Lay back, Mack!! What’s this "lay
back, Mack?"
(to Ellie)
Where does he get this?
Silence; they eat... ELLIE’S eyes finding MIKE’S.
ELLIE
Keep the weekends for us, huh? Get
a replacement for Saturday nights.
That’ll give us the weekends
together.
TOMMY’S face screws up, tasting the lump of food in his
mouth.
TOMMY
God! Scrambled eggs surprise?!
These are pickles...! God!
MIKE
Just "lay back, Mack"... lay back...
CUT TO:
EXT. MANHATTAN - FIFTH AVENUE - EARLY EVENING
Mike emerges from the subway alongside the park.
EXT. FIFTH AVENUE APARTMENT BUILDINGS - EARLY EVENING
Out front, the DOORMAN opens the door for the building’s
children returning from music lessons.
Across the street in Central Park, handsome, elderly
tenants stroll in the company of their nurse: a nanny
pushes a pram, taking advantage of the last light. This
is one of New York’s most exclusive co-ops. Distilled
civilization and quiet wealth. A world away from Queens
or anything else. MIKE arrives on foot.
INT./ EXT. LOBBY - EVENING
A notice behind the locked front door informs: "ALL
VISITORS MUST BE ANNOUNCED". MIKE displays his shield to
the DOORMAN through the glass. The DOORMAN opens, taking
the time to inspect his credentials before returning them,
then STEPS ASIDE, allowing ENTRY.
INT. ELEVATOR - SAME
MIKE rides up in silence, examining the ornate walls.
INT. VESTIBULE - CLAIRE’S APARTMENT - SAME
The elevator delivers him. MIKE finds himself in a wall-
papered trompe l’oeil foyer. Nothing to get his bearings.
The front door clicks open, startling him. MARY, the
cleaning lady, an older, capable woman in functional
civilian clothes, greets him matter-of-factly, taking him
in.
INT. CLAIRE’S LIVING ROOM - SAME
Marble-floored and high-ceilinged, absolutely palatial;
MIKE’S EYES registering amazement as he’s led inward.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park, where
the VOICES are REVEALED belonging to GARBER, T.J., CLAIRE,
and CLAIRE’S boyfriend, NEIL -- who’s trying his best to
be "in charge".
GARBER
(approaching Mike)
You remember Detective Keegan?
NEIL
(expressionless)
I do.
The doorbell RINGS AGAIN: MARY goes to answer it as MIKE
mumbles his greetings to all -- noticing that CLAIRE,
reclining on a couch, seems extremely put out -- or is it
"disinterested"?
NEIL
I want to make sure that everyone
respects the privacy of Miss
Gregory’s household. You’re limited
to the outer vestibule, so you can
watch the elevator, the kitchen, so
you can get something to eat, and
the washroom.
T.J.
(under his breath to
Mike)
So you can take a shit.
The THIRD DETECTIVE enters, being led by MARY. It’s
KOONTZ, a package of razz and sarcasm, somebody you
definitely don’t take home to mother.
MIKE
(reacting; to T.J.)
Not Koontz.
T.J.
Be happy. He’s good at this.
GARBER
(to Neil)
We’d like to, just once, get a look
at the entire layout, so we can
evaluate security.
CLAIRE
This really isn’t necessary. The
security in this building is about
the best in the city.
GARBER
(ever the diplomat)
I’m sure you’re right, Miss Gregory,
but I’d consider it a favor if you’d
let us look around.
CLAIRE
Be my guest.
GARBER
(to his troops)
Guys.
ANGLE - HALLWAY
as GARBER withdraws; MIKE, T.J., KOONTZ to start their
check.
MIKE
(to Garber)
What about when she goes out?
GARBER
Discourage it. But stay with her if
you can’t. Call it in first so we
can have a car on tail. She’s
agreed to travel only with her own
driver and limousine... okay, let’s
check it out.
They split up.
ANGLE - MIKE
following orders, continues down the hall. He moves to a
door that he ATTEMPTS TO OPEN -- discovering it’s not
real. It’s a TROMPE L’OEIL. He turns around to find he’s
not alone in the long hall. NEIL stands just outside the
living room, watching him.
MIKE
(re: the "door")
Pretty good.
ANGLE - NEIL
turns, returning to CLAIRE in the LIVING ROOM.
NEIL
Why an I reminded of the Three
Stooges?
CUT TO:
INT. CLAIRE’S LIBRARY - MOMENTS LATER
KOONTZ checking the windows and terrace.
CUT TO:
INT. KITCHEN - SAME
MIKE, MARY the MAID in there with him.
MARY
(officiously)
You a vegetarian? Miss Gregory’s a
vegetarian, so I’m gonna put food
for you people in a separate fridge.
You know how to use a microwave?
(before he can
answer)
Just about everything you’d want
will heat up by turning this to
ninety seconds.
CUT TO:
INT. CLAIRE’S BEDROOM - SAME
Utterly sumptuous; T.J. uttering a low "whistle" of awe.
CUT TO:
INT. CLAIRE’S POWDER ROOM
There’s an enormous circular bathtub and a Jacuzzi,
endless mirrors, a writing desk, carpeted, a place one
could spend one’s life in -- MIKE SEEN, in the MIRRORS,
wandering through -- idly pushing a mirrored door open, to
gaze, in awe, at the walk-in closet.
MIKE
(under his breath)
Fuckin’ A.
ANGLE: He see T.J., or what he thinks is T.J., reflected
among the other reflections at the other end of the room.
Sees T.J. sit on edge of bed. MIKE is standing in center
of the MIRRORS, slightly disoriented. And T.J. sees him,
similarly astounded, MOVING OUT OF SHOT.
CLOSE ON MIKE: Moving inward, he gawks at the racks of
clothes, gently brushing his hand through the lush
fabrics. CLAIRE’S VOICE -- ANGRY, ALMOST TREMBLING, A
FIRM EFFORT OF WILL -- rustles the silence behind him.
CLAIRE
Excuse me.
ANGLE ON CLAIRE
CLAIRE
This is my dressing room, and these
are my clothes.
(holding herself
firm)
I understand your responsibilities...
but I’d appreciate you staying out
of here at all times.
MIKE: chastened, nods.
MIKE
Sorry. Just checking.
He starts away. MOMENTARILY baffled by the MANY-ANGLED
REFLECTIONS OF HIMSELF in the MIRRORS.
CLAIRE
Straight ahead.
MIKE
Hard to find doors in this place.
MIKE: embarrassed, apologetic.
CLAIRE
... Detective Keegan, I hope you
understand how upsetting this is?
CUT TO:
INT. CLAIRE’S OUTER VESTIBULE - NIGHT
All silent; MIKE on "watch". Just him and a wooden desk
chair, the grade-school variety. No books, no crossword
puzzles; he came unprepared. He checks his watch and
looks to an ornate wall clock. And he’s bored. He picks
up an empty coffee cup, looking for a last drop. Settles
for sniffing it. Replaces it on the floor beside him.
Then he looks to the closed doors of the apartment and
makes a decision. Picking up the coffee cup, he quietly
pushes the DOORS OPEN, and ENTERS.
CUT TO:
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
As MIKE pads quietly across the marble floors in the
quiet; pausing to gaze, in awe, at the vast, empty LIVING
ROOM. It is gigantic, his eyes roaming the ceilings, as
though to estimate their height.
Moving inward, his eyes fall on a BOOK RACK, and he
crosses to it, perusing the shelves for possible reading
material.
They’re all ART BOOKS, the big, thick kind. A Renoir,
because of a NUDE FIGURE on the cover, catches his eye.
But as he pulls it out and begins to leaf through -- he
HEARS VOICES. CLAIRE’S and NEIL’S; her tone is agitated.
NEIL (O.S.)
(barely audible)
... just saying you should think
twice about it...
CLAIRE (O.S.)
... I don’t want to talk about it...
CLOSE ON MIKE: book under his arm, quietly moving toward
the SOURCE: the DEN. It’s door is slightly ajar; there
is a suitcase in front of it, ready for travel.
INT. DEN - NIGHT
CLAIRE
... You know, and I know, that the
only thing standing between a life
sentence for Venza and his freedom
is my testimony at his trial...
NEIL
Claire...
CLAIRE
... He killed Win... he enjoyed
it...
NEIL
Win made his choices, Claire. We
all do --
CLAIRE
And I’m making mine.
She looks at him; a beat, emotionally. He remains steady.
NEIL
(gently)
You’re dealing with a psychopath.
He gets out of jail in ten years, or
five... or ninety days, and you’ll
be looking over your shoulder for
the rest of your life...
CLAIRE
What am I supposed to do?! I saw
one of my oldest friends get killed!
And I saw who did it!
(through tears)
I can’t just -- "let it go away"!!
NEIL
(gently)
Claire...
ANGLE - DEN. NEIL takes her in his arms, holding her
tightly, affectionately, protectively. Holding her from
behind, NEIL KISSES CLAIRE gently on her neck. She calms
in his arms.
RETURN: MIKE DODGES back quickly, through the living and
dining rooms until he’s in the kitchen.
INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT
Spotting the microwave, MIKE QUICKLY TOSSES in an English
muffin -- peering at the dials, as he switches it on.
But he hasn’t escaped being a trespasser to what’s going
on in the far room. He can still HEAR THEM, though HE
WHISTLES, trying not to.
The English muffin BURSTS INTO FLAMES, MIKE desperately
pulling it out, tossing it into the sink, feverishly
fanning the air.
ANOTHER ANGLE ON MIKE: becoming aware that HE’S NOT
ALONE. He TURNS SUDDENLY to see MARY, the housekeeper,
not ten feet from him, in the laundry room, coat on,
fluffing her collar, ready to go home.
MIKE
(chagrined)
I like ’em toasty.
ANGLE ON MARY: staring at him, amused.
MARY
Good night, Mr. Keegan.
She moves through the kitchen and EXITS.
INT. VESTIBULE - LATER - NIGHT
NEIL, with his briefcase, finally leaving. He crosses
from the hallway.
The TWO EYE EACH OTHER: MIKE attempting a cordial smile.
NEIL
You’re here ’til what time?
MIKE
I’m relieved at 4:00 A.M.
NEIL noticing the Renoir.
NEIL
When you’re through with it, put it
back, please, exactly where you
found it, and don’t use the library
again. I have to leave town for a
few days. Let’s do everything we
can to make this less of a trial for
her, shall we?
MIKE NODS. But when NEIL leaves, he makes a mock
"military salute"; a click of the heels.
CUT TO:
INT. CLAIRE’S VESTIBULE - LATER
2:45 A.M. (the clock ON THE WALL); pindrop silence; MIKE
alone.
CLOSE ON MIKE: thoughtful, leafing through the Renoir.
Like a man making the most of solitary confinement --
becoming aware of a NOISE. Though hard to make out in
this windowless capsule, it is DISTANT THUNDER. It stirs
life in him and his eyes wander reflexively upward,
studying the ceiling -- then the doors of the apartment,
left slightly ajar.
ANGLE INSIDE THE APARTMENT: CAMERA FOLLOWING MIKE as he
wanders inward, becoming aware of light coming from a
drawing room. HE MOVES TOWARD, STOPPING.
ANGLE FROM HIS POV: CLAIRE, dimly illuminated by the
light of a desk lamp that throws a gentle glow around her
-- seated, still as statuary, gazing out into the rain.
CLOSE ON MIKE: watching her.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. SUBWAY - ON THE MOVE - LATER
The uncivilized hour indicated by the TOTALLY EMPTY
SUBWAY, MIKE a lone figure, somewhat numbed, his eyes set
into distant space -- as the SUBWAY reaches its
DESTINATION, the blurry platform signs decelerating until
we can make out the word "QUEENS".
EXT. MIKE’S HOUSE - QUEENS
The neighborhood still asleep in the predawn hour; MIKE
picks up the newspaper... glancing at it, he opens it,
sees an article and photograph of CLAIRE on the second
page. He heads inwards...
CUT TO:
INT. MIKE’S BEDROOM - DAY
Afternoon sunlight SPILLING IN as MIKE AWAKENS to the
SOUND of a CAR MOTOR, faltering, then "chug-chugging" to
another start, gasping, then revving. Someone’s working
on MIKE’S car. He looks at his alarm clock; it’s 4:00 in
the afternoon.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIKE’S BACKYARD - DAY
ELLIE and TOMMY visible only as fragments as they work on
MIKE’S car. ELLIE IS SEEN as a rear-end in blue jeans,
the rest of her inside the hood; she calls to TOMMY to
"try it again". It looks like no one’s behind the wheel;
but the very top of his head CAN BE SEEN as he strains to
reach the accelerator.
ANGLE ON MIKE: appearing at the door, in a freshly
pressed suit, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He walks
across the lawn towards them.
MIKE
Hey! What the hell’re you doin’ to
my car?
ELLIE emerges from underneath the hood, flushed.
ELLIE
Changing the sparks. They showed it
on TV. What d’you think?
MIKE
I think television’s a dangerous
thing.
ELLIE
It’s twenty bucks in the bank.
Slamming the hood. TOMMY revs the engine ELLIE moving
down the steps towards MIKE.
ELLIE
Enough, Tommy! C’mon. Get out of
there!
ELLIE moving towards MIKE, she slipping her hand into his
underpants: Their eyes meet, lovingly. She laughs.
MIKE
Hey. The neighbors.
ELLIE
Let ’em eat their hearts out.
She retrieves her cold coffee cup from the POTTING TABLE,
checks out the picture of CLAIRE in the newspaper, he’s
left there. MIKE adjusts his tie. It’s very colorful.
ELLIE
I read the article. You didn’t tell
me she was so beautiful.
MIKE
(Mister Honest)
Well, actually, she looks better
than that.
ELLIE playfully makes a move, JABBING AT HIM, MIKE stops
her, ending WITH A HUG.
MIKE
I’ve got to go.
MIKE kisses her. ELLIE holds MIKE’S face with her gloved
hand.
MIKE
See you Tommy.
ANGLE ON ELLIE: as TOMMY comes up and leans against his
mom: both watching MIKE primp, they share on the joke.
MIKE turns, his face with grease on it.
MIKE
Okay?
ELLIE
Unbelievably handsome. You look
fantastic in a suit.
TOMMY
Nice threads Dad.
MIKE
Yeah, I think so.
MIKE leaves.
INT. CLAIRE’S KITCHEN - LATER - NIGHT
The WALL CLOCK reads 6:30. The remains of a teeny gourmet
meal, before him on the kitchen table.
MIKE is playing an improvised hockey game, shooting peas
through a goal made up of two water glasses, using his
knife as a hockey stick. He HEARS the CLICK of HIGH HEELS
approaching, crossing the vast marble floors.
ANGLE FROM HIS POV: CLAIRE coming toward -- clearly
dressed for the evening, her stride signaling
determination.
MIKE
(brilliant)
Hi.
CLAIRE
I’m sorry. I’m not sure how this
works. I have to go out... is that
all right?
MIKE
(unprepared)
Uh...
CLAIRE
I have to pick something up before
Bergdorf’s closes, then stop at a
reception just a few blocks away.
MIKE
(faltering)
I think, maybe, that isn’t such a
great idea...
CLAIRE
Lieutenant Garber said that in all
likelihood there was no real danger,
is that true?
MIKE
Right. That’s true.
CLAIRE
Can we go then?
MIKE
I’m supposed to call in.
CLAIRE
There’s a phone in the car.
She MOVES TOWARDS THE ELEVATOR: MIKE, stymied.
INT. ELEVATOR - SAME - NIGHT
They descend in silence, MIKE aware of being scrutinized.
The ELEVATOR STOPS, MIKE about to get off, realizing
they’re stopped at the THIRD FLOOR, another TENANT
stepping on. He’s dressed in an expensive JOGGING SUIT,
his key dangling from around his neck; he nods to CLAIRE
and pushes "DOWN". The elevator RUMBLES downward.
CLAIRE
Do you have another tie? Something
&n |
