COLLATERAL
written by
Stuart Beattie
revised draft by
Frank Darabont
9/12/00
current revisions by
Michael Mann
8/24/03
FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY
MM revs. 8/28/03 (blue)
MM revs. 8/28/03 (pink)
MM revs. 9/01/03 (yellow)
MM revs. 9/02/03 (green)
MM revs. 9/03/03 (goldenrod)
MM revs. 9/08/03 (buff)
MM revs. 9/10/03 (salmon)
MM revs. 9/14/03 (cherry)
MM revs. 9/16/03 (tan)
MM revs. 9/18/03 (blue)
MM revs. 9/21/03 (pink)
MM revs. 9/22/03 (yellow)
MM revs. 9/24/03 (green)
MM revs. 9/26/03 (goldenrod)
MM revs. 9/27/03 (buff)
MM revs. 9/29/03 (salmon)
MM revs. 9/30/03 (cherry)
MM revs. 10/02/03 (tan)
MM revs. 10/04/03 (blue)
MM revs. 10/06/03 (pink)
MM revs. 10/09/03 (yellow)
MM revs. 10/10/03 (green)
MM revs. 10/11/03 (goldenrod)
MM revs. 10/12/03 (buff)
FADE IN:
A1 INT. BRADLEY TERMINAL - BLURS - DAY A1
slide past in a 400mm lens. Then, entering a plane of focus is
VINCENT. He walks towards us...an arriving passenger. Suit.
Shirt. No tie. Sunglasses and expensive briefcase say
"confident executive traveler." The suit's custom-made but not
domestic. His hair and shades are current, but it would be
difficult to describe his identifying specifics...grey suit,
white shirt, medium height. And that's the idea...
CLOSE BEHIND VINCENT
OVER his left shoulder, walking through milling travelers
towards the distant wall of metal and glass, sunlight streaming
at him...
ANOTHER BUSINESSMAN
- suit, blonde crew cut - walks to camera. Same sunlight, but
it hits him from the side. His trajectory is from the left.
His eyeline is slightly right. Just now, he looks down at a
ticket in his hand...
OVER VINCENT'S LEFT SHOULDER...
right now something catches Vincent's eye. And the two men bump
into each other...
TWO-SHOT...
VINCENT
You okay? Sorry...
Vincent puts down his briefcase. The man has a similar
briefcase.
MAN
(North London working-
class accent)
Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, mate. Enjoy
LA...
VINCENT GRABS THE BRIEFCASE OF THE MAN
with the North London working-class accent. And continues
towards the exit. Was it an accident? Was it a brush pass?
The Man's accent signified nothing to us except one thing:
foreign origin.
VINCENT
approaches until he's in ECU...
A1 CONTINUED: A1
OVERHEAD SHOT: VINCENT
up from the bottom of the frame, departs across the floor with
the yellow tile, until we lose him into the milling hundreds of
Angelenos, heading out into Greater LA and its eighteen million
people.
1 CREDIT SEQUENCE: 1
Images wipe across the screen, kinetic and abstract, floating
and dreamlike in SLO-MO:
Shades of yellow. Ribbons of silver. Shimmers of chrome.
Headlights sweeping past, flaring to white. Brake lights
flashing, halating red. Reflections of overhead fluorescence
flowing like liquid along windshield glass...
SOUNDS are dreamlike and abstract, reverberated and discordant,
bouncing off concrete walls: car doors OPENING and CLOSING.
Brakes. A BABBLE of multi-lingual crosstalk.
Racing Forms. A Farsi newspaper. African hands on a
Blackberry. Max's hands do The New York Times crossword. A
West African speaks French into a cell phone. Metallica in a
headset. Hip-hop, Norteno...
Mechanics hands change tires, replace air cleaners, close a
hood.
2 INT. TAXI DISPATCH - L.A. - DAY 2
ORANGE and YELLOW FORD CROWN VICTORIAS are wiping screen. We
find ourselves in a busy garage at change of shift. A balletic
convergence of arriving and departing cars. One's door's flung
open...
3 INT. ONE CAB - MAX'S HANDS 3
enter. They wipe the seats with paper towels and 409...a DMV
LICENSE fitted into the small Lexan holder. On it is a picture
of Max.
Lights being checked. Indicators. Hazards. Switches. Similar
to a pilot doing an aircraft check list. Fast. All fine.
REVEAL NOW: MAX'S BRIEFCASE
He opens it, preparing for his workday. CD caddy of personal
mixes goes on a visor. Spreadsheet peaks out a worn Mercedes
S500 brochure, clipped open. A submarine sandwich from Subway.
3 CONTINUED: 3
LONG LENS: OTHER CABBIES - OTHER FACES
load-in. Southern California diversity - some unshaven,
swapping stories, counting cash, one stands on the passenger
seat to shout over the roof to his pal, spills his coffee,
couldn't care less...
Not Max. His cab is fly. Among cabbies he is GQ.
And as CAR HORNS BLARE. AD LIB BANTER. CABBIES SHOUT. Max
gets behind the wheel, closes the door...
4 INT. CAB - DAY 4
...and WHAM! The noise evaporates. Welcome silence. Max takes
a moment to savor it.
4 CONTINUED: 4
He starts the engine. RAP MUSIC BLARES from the radio. Max
turns it off.
He dumps a CD into the changer. MOZART SONATA fills the cab.
From the open briefcase, Max also pulls out one last thing...
A TATTERED POSTCARD
which depicts the whitest sand and bluest sea you can imagine.
A dream place. An endorphin-releasing groove. Limitless
horizon. It's the Maldives Islands in the Indian Ocean.
MAX
slips the postcard under the rubber bands on the visor. He can
see it whenever he wants to. But not now. He flips the visor
up, puts the car in gear and pulls out.
CUT TO:
5 EXT. LA DOWNTOWN - MAX'S CAB - LATE DAY 5
northbound on the 405 or Harbor Freeway, an on-ramp to the east
105. It's all magical in the light. Max's cab, rocketing along
circulinear ramps into complexity of five traffic streams...
6 INT. CAB 6
...harsh reality intrudes. Max is driving a YOUNG PROFESSIONAL
COUPLE with carry-on bags, having a heated argument about...
MAN
...it's always you. Why is everything
always directed at you...?
WOMAN
...everything is not "always about
me." He was being sarcastic and you
goddamn well know it...
MAN
...I'm sorry, I didn't hear it that
way...
WOMAN
...oh, bullshit! How about the dig
about the makeover...?
MAN
...what do you want me to do, punch
the guy out? I work with him. And
you're perfectly capable of taking
care of your own......
(CONTINUED)
10/6/03 MM revs. (pink) 3.
6 CONTINUED: 6
WOMAN
(interrupts)
...well, last I checked, you were
sleeping with me, so unless you wanna
start fucking him, I suggest...
Max endures it silently, invisible as furniture. He doesn't
exist as far as his passengers are concerned...
7 INT. CAB - LATE DAY 7
...as Max drops an elderly Asian couple in Little Saigon...
Up ahead, he sees a cluster of CHINESE GANGBANGERS in their
early 20's wearing cheap suits, white shirts and no ties. Some
guy gets pushed to the ground, punched and kicked while four or
five watch, amused.
Max's first instinct...
MAX
Hey, leave-up on him, man...
One GANG MEMBER, eating take-out with chopsticks, hears, turns,
sees Max.
GANG MEMBER
Say what? What you lookin' at, bitch?
(stream of hot Cantonese)
He throws his food container. Another throws a beer bottle.
Max hits the accelerator as the bottle bounces off the rear
windshield...
8 EXT/INT. CAB - GAS STATION - LATE DAY 8
by the freeway. Mexican murals are coated with a patina of
corrosion from the fumes. We find Max cleaning Chinese take-out
off his cab with the water hose while the gas pump CLICKS OFF.
The Attendant he's known for five years finishes a taco.
ATTENDANT
(in Spanish)
How'd you get the chop suey all over
the cab?
MAX
(in Spanish)
I didn't. The cab got in a fight with
a gang of Chinese Cholos.
ATTENDANT
(in Spanish)
There's been sprouts by the passenger
door.
(CONTINUED)
10/6/03 MM revs. (pink) 3A.
8 CONTINUED: 8
Max hangs the nozzle back, gets in the car...
Max slips his credit card into the briefcase. We glimpse the
Mercedes S500 catalogue again. And Max flips the visor down,
staring at the island. Soothed by the blue.
We're seeing the most private of Max's rituals, the one he
doesn't share with anybody.
Now, he starts hustling for calls by posting himself in a nearby
zone. See Max work the computer. He bids and gets a next load.
DISPATCHER
(get language)
CUT TO:
9 OMIT 9
10/12/03 MM revs. (buff) 4.
10 OMIT 10
11 INT. CAB - MAGIC HOUR - SUPERIOR COURT BUILDING - MAX 11
presumably, has dropped a load in front. He fills out his trip
sheet. A pedestrian businessman asks directions to LAX. Max ad
libs, directing him to the people-mover.
Yellow cylindrical stairs...a pretty young WOMAN descends into
the interior lobby.
Max finishes his notation.
The young WOMAN detours through media and the rush-hour crowd
while talking rapid fire into a cell phone, starts toward Max's
cab, waving at it...
Max doesn't see her, starts to pull away.
She gives up, turns toward a green City Cab behind her, but it
just picked up a load.
Then, Max catches sight of her and stops. Red taillights.
She turns and starts for the cab.
We SEE Max regard her in his rearview mirror. He ejects a CD
and loads a different one.
ADDENDUM: WILD DIAL FOR ANNIE ACTION while Annie's on the cell
phone to UNHEARD LEGAL ASSISTANT/TRANSCRIBER...
ANNIE
I need it transcribed...
ASSISTANT'S VOICE (UNHEARD)
Off of what?
ANNIE
Off the line sheets.
ASSISTANT'S VOICE (UNHEARD)
Why?
ANNIE
'Cause I think it's him on there. In
the gold Lexus on the cell. If it is,
he's enhanceable, 'cause of priors in
the late '80's...
ASSISTANT'S VOICE (O.S.)
What about tomorrow afternoon?
10/12/03 MM revs. (buff) 4A.
11A EXT./INT. CAB 11A
The woman, ANNIE FARRELL, enters the cab. Everything about her
says "serious professional" from her suit to her briefcase and
purse. Still on her cell, her attention is focused on the call.
ANNIE
...no, the transcriptions need to be
done by seven a.m.. Period. Okay?
MAX
How ya' doin'? Where to?
ANNIE
Downtown. 312 North Spring Street.
Take Sepulveda to Slauson to La Brea.
La Brea north to 6th into downtown.
Max pulls away from the curb, starts the meter and turns left.
ANNIE (CONT'D)
(into cell phone)
So you'll be up late. I'm pulling an
all-nighter, too. Save the tears.
She ends the call, starts to check her voicemail on her phone.
Max's eyes in the rearview mirror...
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 5.
11A CONTINUED: (2) 11A
MAX
I'll take 105 east and up the 110.
It's faster.
ANNIE
(doesn't look at him)
What?
MAX
(louder)
105 to the 110 is faster.
ANNIE
110 turns into a parking lot around
USC.
MAX
This late, the 110 is moving, but La
Brea north of the Santa Monica is
jammed.
ANNIE
110 north of the 10 you get people
going to Pasadena and they drive slow.
MAX
That's why I jump off at Grand.
(looks at her)
But, hey, surface streets is cool.
That's what you want, that's what we
do...
Annie looks up for the first time. Skeptically...
ANNIE
Are we taking bets? What if you're
wrong?
MAX
Your ride is free.
ANNIE
You got yourself a deal.
12 EXT. OLYMPIC BLVD. - DUSK TO NIGHT 12
Max's cab maneuvers easily through light traffic past golf
driving ranges.
13 INT. CAB - DUSK TO NIGHT 13
Annie glances up from a legal brief, noticing the lack of
traffic.
(CONTINUED)
10/9/03 MM revs. (yellow) 5A.
13 INT. CAB - DUSK TO NIGHT 13
Annie glances up from a legal brief, noticing the lack of
traffic.
(CONTINUED)
9/1/03 MM revs. (yellow) 6.
13 CONTINUED: 13
ANNIE
Go ahead, say it. Go ahead.
MAX
...lucky with the lights.
ANNIE
You weren't "lucky with the lights."
What you were was right. I was
wrong...
(glances at his license)
...Max.
She sets the brief aside, eyes tired anyway. She notices the
MUSIC playing faintly up front. Bach's "Air on a G String."
ANNIE (CONT'D)
You mind turning this up?
Max doesn't mind at all. He tweaks the volume up. Annie leans
her head back to listen, closes her eyes.
MAX
You like Bach?
ANNIE
(nods)
I used to play this piece in high
school.
MAX
Let me guess. Woodwinds?
ANNIE
(smiles)
Viola. I never had the lungs for wind
instruments.
MAX
Could'a fooled me, the way you were
unloading into that cell phone.
ANNIE
(laughs)
Different instrument...
(beat)
You know, if you'd only listened to
me, we'd be all bogged down in traffic
right now, and you would have made an
extra five bucks.
MAX
Yeah? Keep it. Buy yourself
something. Go wild.
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 7.
13 CONTINUED: (2) 13
ANNIE
(off his silence)
A gentleman. I thought chivalry was a
necessary casualty of gender
politics...
MAX
Not a big thing, you know...?
ANNIE
How many cabbies get you into an
argument to save you money?
MAX
There were two of us. I killed the
other guy. I don't like
competition...
She's charmed by his deadpan.
ANNIE
You take pride in...being the best at
what you do...?
MAX
This?
(hesitates)
This is temporary. You know. Pays
the bills. I fill in with this. I
WILL be the best at what I do, but
that's something else.
ANNIE
What else?
MAX
I'm setting up something...
ANNIE
Like tell me...?
MAX
...limo company I'm putting together.
Island Limousines. An island on
wheels. So I'm part-timing until I
get delivery, Benzes off leases, work
up my client lists, staff up, all
that...
An uncomfortable beat. He turns the conversation back to her:
MAX (CONT'D)
You like being a lawyer?
(CONTINUED)
9/26/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 7A.
13 CONTINUED: (3) 13
ANNIE
You psychic?
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 8.
13 CONTINUED: (4) 13
MAX
I'm starting an 800 hotline.
(off her look)
Caught your phone call. And even if I
hadn't, there's the dark pinstripe.
Elegant, not too hip, which rules out
advertising, plus a top drawer
briefcase, that you live out of, purse
looks like a Bodega...
ANNIE
(laughs)
Bottega.
MAX
...Bottega. Guy gets in my cab with a
machete? I figure he's a sushi chef.
You? Clarence Darrow.
Annie can't help laughing.
ANNIE
Not quite. He worked defense. I'm a
prosecutor...
MAX
Big case?
ANNIE
Yeah.
14 EXT. FEDERAL BUILDING (NOT 312 SPRING STREET) - DOWNTOWN - 14
DUSK
Max's cab slides in to the curb. Beat. Still a lot of
pedestrian and car traffic, people heading home for the night.
15 INT. CAB - ANNIE'S 15
smile fades as she gazes up at her building, some anxiety comes
back.
ANNIE
You got us here fast...
She digs in her purse for the fare.
MAX
You never answered my question. You
like what you do?
ANNIE
(hedging)
Yeah.
(CONTINUED)
10/12/03 MM revs. (buff) 9.
15 CONTINUED: 15
MAX
But not right now...?
ANNIE
(nods)
No, I do...like I can't wait. ...I
love standing up in that courtroom.
(hesitates)
At the same time...I always get this
clenched-up thing the night before the
first day...
MAX
Clenched-up how...?
ANNIE
(beat)
I think I'm gonna lose. I think I
suck. I think my case sucks. I
haven't prepared enough. My exhibits
aren't in order. People are gonna
figure out that I don't know what I'm
doin'. And I've had this charade
going for years. I represent the
Department of Justice of the United
States government and my opening
statement is gonna fall flat at the
really important point and the jury's
gonna laugh at me.
(beat)
Then I cry... I don't throw-up. A
lot of people throw-up. I have a
strong stomach.
(beat)
Then I get it together. And rewrite
my opening statement. Work the
exhibits. For the rest of the night.
That's my routine.
(looks up with a smile)
In the morning, it starts. I'm fine.
Max is focused on her eyes.
MAX
You need a vacation.
ANNIE
(faint smile)
I just had...a vacation. On the
Harbor Freeway.
She takes money out of her purse.
(CONTINUED)
10/12/03 MM revs. (buff) 9A.
15 CONTINUED: (2) 15
MAX
No. Not in a cab. You need your head
straight, gotta get your unified self
up, get harmonic...you know...
ANNIE
When was the last time you took a
break?
MAX
I take little ones all the time.
ANNIE
How often?
MAX
Dozen times a day.
He flips the visor down, revealing the postcard of white
beaches, clear green water. It's the first time he's shared
this with anybody:
MAX (CONT'D)
Maldives Islands. It gets heavy, I
take five. Go there.
(CONTINUED)
9/8/03 MM revs. (buff) 10.
15 CONTINUED: (2) 15
On impulse, he slips the postcard free and offers it to her.
ANNIE
No, I couldn't take that...I couldn't.
MAX
Yes, you could. You need it more than
I do.
(off her hesitation)
It helps. I promise.
She accepts the postcard, surprised and touched. Her gaze
lingers on his for a moment. She holds it.
ANNIE
Wow. Thanks for everything, Max...
MAX
Sure thing.
She gets out of the cab, starts to walk away...
...but turns back, ducking into the cab's window. Looking a bit
flustered, she pulls a business card and offers it to him.
ANNIE
In case you ever...I don't
know...wanna start an investigation of
a Fortune 500 company or argue cab
routes or something...
And with that, she goes towards the three assistants waiting for
her outside the revolving door. Max is left somewhat stunned,
holding her card. He glances down at it:
ANNIE FARRELL
ASSISTANT UNITED STATES ATTORNEY
CRIMINAL DIVISION
CENTRAL DISTRICT OF CALIFORNIA
Meanwhile...
15A INT. FEDERAL BUILDING, GARAGE - DOOR 15A
A hand punches a sequence of numbers into a keypad. The garage
is visible beyond. The lock unlocks. We see it is Vincent who
walks into the steel interior staircase from the garage.
16 INT. FEDERAL BUILDING - VINCENT - DUSK 16
emerges from the interior staircase into the lobby in his good
suit with the expensive briefcase. Casually, he glances to his
right. We don't know why...
(CONTINUED)
9/8/03 MM revs. (buff) 10A.
16 CONTINUED: 16
OVER VINCENT
in front of him is a guard station and a row of tumbrils that
require an identity card to not trigger and alarm. Vincent
produces his card, scans it across the top.
(CONTINUED)
9/8/03 MM revs. (buff) 11.
16 CONTINUED: (2) 16
The indicator goes GREEN. Vincent slips the card into his
briefcase and walks through, towards the bank of elevators.
However, he doesn't take an elevator. He walks past them
towards an escalator down to the street. Why did he walk into,
through and out of the lobby of the building?
FRONTAL CLOSE: VINCENT
and PAN RIGHT with him as he and we start a descent on the
escalator from the stone foyer to the street level.
PAST VINCENT'S HEAD,
riding the "up" escalator is Annie Farrell and the group of
lawyers. Vincent looks at her, appreciatively, then away.
17 OMIT 17
17A EXT. FEDERAL BUILDING - VINCENT 17A
exits, approaches us, and ARM DOWN to include the yellow top of
Max's cab...
Max still holds Annie's business card, marveling at it and her.
From the FRONT...
VINCENT
Hello?
MAX
(glances back)
Uh, yeah...
And Max can't hide his eyeline and interest...
VINCENT
Let's go to...
(Max isn't paying
attention)
You free? Or...
Vincent starts towards another cab pulling up...
MAX
Yeah, yeah, sorry...
Vincent gets in.
(CONTINUED)
9/30/03 MM revs. (cherry) 12.
17A CONTINUED: 17A
MAX (CONT'D)
Where to?
VINCENT
452 South Union Street.
17B INT. CAB - MAX 17B
pulls out, starts the meter.
VINCENT
(checks his watch)
How long you think this'll take?
MAX
Fourteen minutes.
VINCENT
Fourteen? Not fifteen? Not thirteen?
MAX
Two minutes to get onto the 101.
Transition to the 110 to the 10 and
exit on Normandie is four minutes.
North on Normandie is five minutes.
Two minutes to South Union 'cause
there's roadwork. Thirteen plus one
for "shit happens."
Vincent checks his watch.
VINCENT
Mind if I time you?
(Max shrugs)
What do I get if you're wrong? A free
ride?
MAX
An apology.
Max heads for the 100 on-ramp.
MAX (CONT'D)
...I already offered up the free ride
today.
VINCENT
To who?
MAX
...some girl.
(CONTINUED)
10/9/03 MM revs. (yellow) 12A.
17B CONTINUED: 17B
VINCENT
Did you ask her out?
Vincent's read Max's mind. Max hadn't thought it through that
far. Now that he does, reality sinks in. Annie's out of his
league and he knows it.
Gone forever, Max jams her card under the rubber bands on the
visor.
CUT TO:
18 EXT. 6TH STREET BRIDGE OVER 110 - NIGHT 18
Max's cab zooms across, heading out of downtown.
10/9/03 MM revs. (yellow) 13.
19 INT. CAB - VINCENT 19
Max changes the subject.
MAX
First time in LA?
VINCENT
No. To tell the truth, whenever I'm
here, I can't wait to leave. Too
sprawled-out. Disconnected. You
know...? But that's me.
(beat)
You like it here?
MAX
It's home.
VINCENT
17 million people. This was a
country, it would be the fifth biggest
economy in the world. But nobody
knows each other. Too impersonal.
But that's just me...you know...
(beat)
I read about this guy. Gets on the
MTA, here, and dies. Six hours he's
riding the subway before anybody
notices. This corpse doing laps
around LA, people on and off, sitting
next to him, nobody notices.
MAX
I see your point. Yeah...
Vincent glances around the cab.
VINCENT
Cleanest cab I've ever been in. Your
regular ride?
MAX
Yeah. I share it with the dayshift
guy.
VINCENT
Prefer nights?
MAX
People are more relaxed, you know?
Less stress, less traffic, better
tips.
VINCENT
You get benefits?
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 14.
19 CONTINUED: 19
MAX
Like sick leave?
VINCENT
Retirement? Health and welfare?
MAX
It's not that kind of job.
VINCENT
Start a union.
MAX
Me, specifically?
VINCENT
Why not?
MAX
Last thing I need is a reason to keep
driving a cab. It's temporary. I'm
fillin' in, you know, while this
other thing I'm putting together is
shaping up...
VINCENT
How long you been driving?
MAX
Twelve years.
Hardly temporary...
VINCENT
Really? What else are you putting
together?
Max hesitates. He's not as secure as he was with Annie.
MAX
I don't talk about it. No offense,
but...
VINCENT
(smiles, shrugs)
None taken. Talkers and doers. Like
you, I like doers.
20 EXT. SOUTH UNION STREET APARTMENT BUILDING - NIGHT 20
A rundown, quasi-deserted area. Alienation in the twilight. A
lonely tenant watches the city from an open window. Max's cab
pulls to the curb...
9/24/03 MM revs. (green) 14A.
21 INT. CAB - VINCENT 21
closes his briefcase, checks his watch.
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 15.
21 CONTINUED: 21
VINCENT
Fourteen minutes. Man, you're good...
MAX
Lucky with the lights.
VINCENT
Yeah, sure. You probably know the
light schedules, too.
(leans forward)
Listen...I'm in town on a real estate
deal. A closing. One night. I got
five stops to make, collect
signatures. See some friends. Then I
got a six a.m. out of LAX. Why don't
you hang with me for the night...?
MAX
I'm not a hire car. It's against
regs...
VINCENT
Regulations? These guys don't pay you
sick leave.
(pulls his wallet)
How much you pull down a shift?
MAX
Two-fifty, four hundred.
VINCENT
I'll make it six hundred. Plus an
extra hundred if you get me to LAX and
I don't have to run for the plane.
Vincent draws CRISP HUNDRED-DOLLAR BILLS from his briefcase,
fans them like a magic trick. Meanwhile, a car pulls up behind
double-parked Max. Vincent steals a glimpse of his PC. See a
real estate prospectus-looking display.
VINCENT (CONT'D)
...take a chance.
MAX
Man, I don't know.
VINCENT
Yes, you do.
MAX
(succumbs)
Yeah. Okay.
Vincent smiles, gives him a firm handshake.
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 15A.
21 CONTINUED: (2) 21
VINCENT
Cool. We got a deal. Here's three
hundred down. What's your name?
(CONTINUED)
9/2/03 MM revs. (green) 16.
21 CONTINUED: (2) 21
MAX
Max.
VINCENT
Max? I'm Vincent.
Vincent gets out. Max calls after him:
MAX
I can't double park here...
VINCENT
I'll meet you in the alley behind the
building.
Understood. Vincent steps into the building foyer, while...
Max puts the car in gear...
22 EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT 22
...and pulls into the alley behind the apartment building.
23 INT. CAB - MAX 23
brings the car to a stop and notices Vincent's briefcase lying
on the back seat. A trusting soul. Max smiles.
MAX
Definitely not from around here.
He kills the engine. Silence.
There's a noticeable lack of city noise. DISTANT talk radio.
Spanish gospel from a Baptist church. An occasional car passes
the mouth of the alley.
Max trades Mozart for Beethoven.
Max checks his watch. Dinnertime. He turns to his battered
briefcase on the passenger seat.
It's filled with carefully arranged items. NAPKINS in the
pockets. UTENSILS in the pen holders. FOIL PACKS of mayo and
mustard and Thousand Island Dressing. 1.5 liter PLASTIC BOTTLE
of vitamin mineral water. The well-worn Mercedes brochure for
the S500. A spreadsheet, like a handwritten business plan. A
large submarine sandwich wrapped in two halves. Neat note pads.
Everything's in methodical order.
9/14/03 MM revs. (cherry) 17.
23A EXT./INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - VERY CLOSE PAST VINCENT 23A
climbing stairs with palm trees and downtown behind...
23B INT. CAB - MAX 23B
spreads Thousand Island on the sandwich. He glances up at the
visor. He tilts it down, peering at Annie's business card,
wondering what to do. Will he call her?
He sits a moment, fighting a wave of sadness. Unhappy with
himself. With his life. His place in the world.
23C OMIT 23C
23D INT. CAB - MAX 23D
raises the sandwich to take a bite...
FROM THE FLOOR UP PAST MAX + THE STEERING WHEEL (VFX - GRN SCRN)
up THROUGH the windshield is the twinkle of stars in the night
sky. Suddenly, a dark shape from above blacks out the sky. It
descends towards us. As Max takes a bite...
...WHAM! SOMETHING HUGE rocks the cab on its axles! GLASS rains
down. A HEADLIGHT EXPLODES! The windshield FRACTURES! Max
bounces off the ceiling. His submarine deconstructs all over
the interior. His coffee spills...
...and then abrupt, stunning silence.
What hit him. An earthquake? Max takes a dazed beat. He peers
at the windshield...
THE DEAD FACE OF A FAT MAN STARES AT HIM.
Max recoils with a yell, scrambles from the cab, heart
pounding...
24 EXT. ALLEY - FROM ABOVE: CAB - NIGHT 24
A CORPSE is angled across part of his roof and windshield in a
bathrobe. There's shards of window glass from upstairs
everywhere. It makes a halo around the cab.
Max is stunned.
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 18.
24 CONTINUED: 24
He looks to see where the body came from.
MAX POV: 3RD STORY (SOUTH UNION LOCATION)
A window on the top floor is broken out. A white curtain flaps
in the breeze.
24A LOW ANGLE: CMS MAX 24A
turns. Vincent has entered the alley and now stops.
Max's first thought: this passenger will think Max ran into
this guy.
MAX
He - He fell on my cab...!
(points)
VINCENT
(pause)
You always stutter?
MAX
Well, yeah. Yeah. Guy fell on my
motherfucking cab from up there...!
Max looks up, points again, as if Vincent might have missed it
the first time. Vincent's focus hasn't left Max.
MAX (CONT'D)
I think he's dead.
VINCENT
...taken two .45s and did a high dive
onto his head. It's a good guess.
Max stares at Vincent. It's sinking in. Vincent, meanwhile,
has to make his decision. About Max. Kill him and find
another, or...
MAX
You - you killed him?
VINCENT
No. I - I shot him. The bullets and
the fall killed him.
A frozen beat. Everything's out in the open. Max realizes he's
in trouble. He backs away, thinking escape...
...and like lightning, Vincent's .45 H+K is in his hand. To Max
the .45 caliber bore is the diameter of the Spring Street
tunnel.
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 18A.
24A CONTINUED: 24A
VINCENT (CONT'D)
Red-light-green-light? Light's red.
Max freezes.
(CONTINUED)
9/30/03 MM revs. (cherry) 19.
24A CONTINUED: (2) 24A
VINCENT (CONT'D)
You can run, but you'll die tired.
Max nods. Shakily raises his hands.
VINCENT (CONT'D)
Put down your hands.
(beat)
Are you cool? Say "I am cool."
MAX
You are cool.
VINCENT
No.
(beat)
You say you are cool.
MAX
I am...I'm cool.
Vincent decides. The gun disappears back into Vincent's
waistband.
VINCENT
Okay. Help me out here.
MAX
With what?
VINCENT
El Gordo decided to get some air and
not take the stairs. So we go to plan
B. Pop the trunk.
MAX
My trunk?
VINCENT
(Isn't it self evident?) I can't
leave him here. So unless you want
him riding up front with you...and
given the hygiene...
(smells)
...and his sphincters let go...
Max reluctantly pops the trunk, circles to the front of the car.
Vincent reaches over the hood, grabs the corpse by the bathrobe
lapels, heaves the body into a sitting position.
VINCENT (CONT'D)
Gonna roll him off the hood.
(a homily for Max)
Always lift with your legs...
(CONTINUED)
9/30/03 MM revs. (cherry) 20.
24A CONTINUED: (3) 24A
MAX
I don't think I can do this.
VINCENT
He's only a dead guy. On three. Uno.
Dos. Three.
He rolls the corpse off the hood. Grimacing, Max gets a firm
grip under the arms. Vincent gets the legs.
VINCENT (CONT'D)
Got it?
MAX
Yeah.
They start shuffling toward the trunk. Suddenly, Max lets out a
YELL, almost dropping his end.
VINCENT
What?
MAX
His hand moved! His goddamn hand
twitched!
VINCENT
It's a spasm! Jesus, don't be such a
girl...
ANGLE FROM INSIDE TRUNK
as they heave the body inside, pausing to catch their breath.
VINCENT (CONT'D)
(to heavy dead person)
Never heard of a treadmill?
He slams the trunk, shutting us into DARKNESS...
25 EXT. CAB - NIGHT 25
...and we find Max frozen like a statue while Vincent is dousing
the hood with Max's 1.5 liter bottle of drinking water.
VINCENT
Six liters of blood in the average
Angeleno, he's gotta dump all his...on
your cab.
(a final dousing)
Okay, that's good enough.
Vincent heads for the car, notices Max's feet are frozen to the
concrete.
(CONTINUED)
9/14/03 MM revs. (cherry) 21.
25 CONTINUED: 25
MAX
Uh, look...why don't you, like, take
the cab...
VINCENT
"Take the cab..."
MAX
Yeah. I - I'll chill. You know.
And...they don't check. You know?
They don't. They don't know who's
driving these things. You, me...
VINCENT
And you promise you will never tell
anybody? Right? ...get in the
fucking car.
Max does. Vincent gets into the back seat...
26 INT. CAB - MAX 26
behind the wheel, turns the key. The ENGINE GRINDS. He tries
again. MORE GRINDING.
VINCENT
Can we leave the scene of the crime,
now, please?
MAX
I'm trying...
He turns the ignition again. GRIND. GRIND. Vincent's getting
steamed:
VINCENT
Max.
MAX
It's not me!
Grind. Grind.
VINCENT
The engine is already on. Put the
little pointer on the letter "D." "D"
stands for Drive.
(CONTINUED)
9/29/03 MM revs. (salmon) 22.
26 CONTINUED: 26
Max pulls out of the alley...
27 EXT. STREET - AS MAX'S CAB 27
MAX
You're making me nervous.
VINCENT
I'm making you nervous? I'm the one
on a schedule...
...accelerates away, disappearing, another CAR appears.
27A EXT. UNION STREET 27A
It cruises down the street and stops in front of the apartment
building.
RAY FANNING emerges from the car. Edged hair, an earring,
sports clothes. A salesman or a player or a dealer. Forties, a
face with character and some miles. And something insistent
about his intent...
He heads towards the entry gate, rings a buzzer. Waits a
moment. Rings again. Nothing. Plus...he looks like he could
kick your ass if he wanted to.
He pulls a thin plastic card from an inner pocket of his jacket,
jimmies the door lock...
28 INT. APARTMENT BUILDING COURTYARD, THIRD FLOOR - FANNING - 28
NIGHT
approaches across the balcony walkway against the junky palms
and downtown skyscape.
He knocks on the door...causing the door to swing in slightly.
He glances down, sees the lock was pulled. Tensing, he fades to
one side, his hand going to his holster at his hip.
He draws a Beretta, reaches out and pushes the door all the way
open...
29 INT. APARTMENT - NOTHING - NIGHT 29
A dark shambles. Old take-out. A TV. Fanning enters
cautiously, alert for the slightest movement or sound.
FANNING
Ramone?
(beat)
Estas fiestando con una chica?
(CONTINUED)
9/29/03 MM revs. (salmon) 22A.
29 CONTINUED: 29
Nothing. Fanning cautiously enters the bedroom, worried now.
Reemerges. Nothing.
30 INT. APARTMENT - FANNING 30
carefully negotiates the corners and slides along the wall to
SEE...
(CONTINUED)
9/30/03 MM revs. (cherry) 23.
30 CONTINUED: 30
THE BROKEN WINDOW
Glass missing. He leans out. A dizzying drop. A halo of
broken glass on the alley below...in the center of which is a
big blank spot.
FANNING
Fuck.
And he produces his police radio and we realize he's a cop.
31 INT. CAB, TRAVELING - MAX - NIGHT 31
Max winds his way through surface-street traffic, in shock,
sneaking anxious glances at Vincent in back. Vincent's got the
tablet PC from his briefcase, studying it. The silence is
thick.
Max's hand is shaking. He lifts it off the wheel, tries to
steady his fingers. Vincent diverts some attention to Max...
VINCENT (O.S.)
Try deep breathing.
MAX
What?
VINCENT
Adrenaline's wearing off. You get
shaky after. Some people slip into
shock. It's not uncommon. Deep
breathing helps.
Max starts drawing in breaths, letting them out slowly.
VINCENT (CONT'D)
Is that better?
MAX
I think so.
They stop at a RED LIGHT. Max glances at the passenger seat.
Dressing and stray pieces of lettuce and mortadella. He parks
the gearshift and goes for the paper towels, cleaning up.
Vincent over the tablet PC, taking in Max. Softly:
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 24.
31 CONTINUED: 31
VINCENT
What are you doing?
MAX
It's a mess.
VINCENT
So?
Max keeps wiping, as if getting the seats clean might put
everything right again.
VINCENT (CONT'D)
Lady Macbeth. Leave the seats. The
light's green. We're sitting here.
A CAR HORN HONKS behind Max. The car whips around them to get
through the intersection.
DRIVER
Asshole!
VINCENT
You no longer have the cleanest cab in
La-La Land. You gotta live with that.
Focus on the job. Drive.
Right. Max puts the car in gear and proceeds.
VINCENT (CONT'D)
(checks the PC)
7565 Fountain. You know it?
MAX
West Hollywood.
VINCENT
(checks his watch)
How long, you figure?
Max has to force himself to concentrate:
MAX
Seventeen minutes. Why?
Silence from the back. Max into the rearview, realizing:
MAX (CONT'D)
Oh. Oh, no. You're kidding. We...
VINCENT
I told you we had other stops to make
tonight.
(CONTINUED)
9/30/03 MM revs. (cherry) 25.
31 CONTINUED: (2) 31
MAX
You said you were visiting friends!
VINCENT
They're somebody's friends...
(changes display)
You drive a cab. I make my rounds.
We both do our jobs, you might make it
through the night and come out seven
hundred bucks ahead.
MAX
I...I'm not trying to piss you off,
see? Okay? But I can't drive you
around so you can murder people...
Man, that's not my job...
VINCENT
Tonight it is.
MAX
You don't get it. I mean it. Really.
I'm not up for this...
Vincent realizes Max is on the verge of panic.
VINCENT
You are stressed. I understand that.
Keep breathing. Stay calm.
Max starts deep-breathing again, exhaling slowly. Vincent stows
the PC.
VINCENT (CONT'D)
Are you breathing?
MAX
Yes.
VINCENT
Good. What else calms you down?
Candy? Cigarettes? Breathe.
MAX
Music.
VINCENT
Play music.
Max turns on the CD. SOFT CLASSICAL.
VINCENT (CONT'D)
Chopin prelude. Stodgy.
(Max nods)
Here's the deal.
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
9/24/03 MM revs. (green) 26.
31 CONTINUED: (3) 31
VINCENT (CONT'D)
You were gonna drive me around and
never be the wiser. But because of El
Gordo's high dive, we're into Plan B.
Still breathing?
(beat)
Now. We have to make the best of it.
Improvise. Adapt to the environment.
Darwin. "Shit happens." The I
Ching...whatever. Roll with it...
MAX
I Ching? You threw a man out a
window!
VINCENT
I didn't throw him, he fell.
MAX
What'd he do to you?
VINCENT
Nothing. I only met him one time.
MAX
Then how can you kill him like that?
VINCENT
I should only kill people after I get
to know 'em?
(off Max's look)
Six billion people on the planet and
you get bent out of shape 'cause of
one fat guy?
MAX
Who, who was he?
VINCENT
What do you care? Ever hear of
Rwanda?
MAX
Rwanda. Yeah.
VINCENT
Tens of thousands killed before
sundown. Nobody's killed people that
fast since Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Did you bat an eye, Max? Did you join
Amnesty International, Oxfam or
something? No.
(off Max's silence)
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
9/14/03 MM revs. (cherry) 27.
31 CONTINUED: (4) 31
VINCENT (CONT'D)
I off one Angeleno, you throw a hissy
fit...
Max stops at another RED LIGHT.
MAX
I don't know Rwandans.
VINCENT
You don't know the guy in the trunk,
either.
(beat)
If it makes you feel any better, he
was a criminal involved in a
Continuing Criminal Enterprise.
MAX
Oh, that makes it okay, then. 'Cause
all you're doing is taking out the
garbage...
VINCENT
Something like that...
(distracted)
What you need to remember is that
nobody gets out of this alive. Even
if we quit smoking. Cut out red meat.
Everybody dies...
Suddenly -- A BRILLIANT GLARE OF FLASHING LIGHTS stabs at the
cab. Max sees --
-- an LAPD CRUISER behind the cab. The ROOFTOP LIGHTS
FLASHING...
COP #1 (P.A.)
Please pull the vehicle over to the
curb.
Max complies. A second bright beam lights up the interior. TWO
UNIFORMED COPS emerge from the patrol car. Faceless
silhouettes, approaching cautiously.
VINCENT
(low)
Get rid of 'em.
MAX
How?
VINCENT
You're a cabby. Talk yourself out of
a ticket.
The cops are now circling to either side of the cab, using
Maglite FLASHLIGHTS.
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 28.
31 CONTINUED: (5) 31
Vincent eases the briefcase off his lap, his hands clear his
field of movement, spread open his jacket to better reach his
waistband and his H+K.
MAX
Please. Don't do anything.
VINCENT
Then don't let me get cornered. You
don't have the trunk space.
MAX
I can't believe this...
Vincent's hand reaches...
VINCENT
Believe it.
MAX
Don't. I'll talk to them, I'll talk
to them...!
VINCENT
(re: cops)
Probably married.
A COP'S HAND descends to the driver's window, raps loudly, GOLD
WEDDING BAND catching the light as it taps on the glass.
VINCENT (CONT'D)
Maybe that one's got kids. Probably
his wife's pregnant...
MAX
I'll deal with it!
A FLASHLIGHT BEAM pops on at the driver's window. Cop #1
glaring light into Max's eyes.
A SECOND FLASHLIGHT BEAM pops on, this from Cop #2 on the
passenger side. Checking out Vincent in the back. Vincent
smiles good-naturedly.
Max rolls his window down. Cop #1 leans down, and we see his
face for the first time. A clean-cut blonde guy.
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 29.
31 CONTINUED: (6) 31
COP #1
License and registration.
Max pulls them off the visor, hands them over. The cop examines
them by flashlight.
COP #1 (CONT'D)
Pulled you over 'cause your
windshield's smashed.
(beat)
All of this current?
MAX
Yes, officer.
From the other side of the cab, COP #2 lets out a laugh. He's
playing his flashlight beam across the seats. Mustard and mayo
everywhere.
COP #2
Wha'd you, have a food fight in here?
Max gives Vincent an "I told you so" look in the rearview
mirror. Meanwhile, we HEAR dimly on the POLICE RADIO about a
domestic disturbance on 83rd and Hoover and some officers
responding.
Cop #2 plays his beam across the cracked windshield and damaged
hood. Faint reddish traces in the paint. His smiles fades.
COP #2 (CONT'D)
Is that blood?
MAX
Yeah. See...
(thinks fast)
I hit a deer.
COP #1
A deer...
MAX
Over by Slauson.
COP #1
A "South Central" deer?
MAX
Goddamn deer jumped out in front of
me. You believe that?
COP #1
(indicates Vincent)
Why you still carrying a passenger?
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 29A.
31 CONTINUED: (7) 31
MAX
I was headed back to my depot, see,
you know? And his drop's on the way.
COP #1
Yeah, but your cab's not safe to
drive. And we're going to impound it.
We need to do a vehicle inventory
while we wait for the tow truck. Pop
the trunk and step out of the vehicle.
(swings flashlight beam to
Vincent)
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
9/30/03 MM revs. (cherry) 30.
31 CONTINUED: (8) 31
COP #1 (CONT'D)
I'm sorry, sir, you'll have to phone
for another cab.
VINCENT
Is that necessary, Officer? I'm just
a half mile from here.
COP #1
I'm afraid it is. Please exit the
vehicle.
(to Max)
You, too.
Max hears a SOFT CLICK behind him. The unmistakable sound of a
safety CLICKED OFF. He meets Vincent's gaze in the rearview
mirror. A whisper:
VINCENT
You open that trunk, they go inside.
Behind Vincent, through the rear windshield, Max sees Cop #2
moving to the trunk, playing his flashlight across it...
Max, mouth dry...
MAX
Hey, man, it's been a long day. You
know? It's so slow, I pay this guy to
ride so I don't get lonely...
(re: Vincent)
My first fare. How about a break?
I'm heading to the barn, anyway...
COP #1
Get out of the car. And open the
trunk...
Max tosses a hopeless look into the rearview. Vincent's staring
at him. No mercy there.
Max steps from the car. The cop escorts Max toward the rear,
Vincent smoothly pulls his H+K from his waistband and emerges on
the passenger side, gun held out of sight and a heartbeat away
from opening fire...
...a CRACKLE OF STATIC, a PANICKY VOICE COMES OVER THE POLICE
BAND:
POLICE RADIO
Officer needs help. We got a man with
a gun. Shots fired at 83rd and
Hoover...
Cop #2 to his partner.
(CONTINUED)
9/14/03 MM revs. (cherry) 30A.
31 CONTINUED: (9) 31
COP #2
Let's go.
Off-screen radio talk from many responding units...
(CONTINUED)
10/2/03 MM revs. (tan) 31.
31 CONTINUED: (10) 31
COP #1
(to Max; leaving)
Get that cab back to your garage...
The cops pile into their black-and-white and ROAR off into the
night.
Max and Vincent are left standing, gazing across the cab at each
other.
VINCENT
Breathe.
Max starts deep-breathing as they get back in the cab...
CUT TO:
32 EXT. HOTEL + PENTHOUSE - CORPULENT MAN - NIGHT 32
in an attorneys suit with rapper clients.
VINCENT
(to himself)
I thought Californians exercised...?
REVEAL Vincent looking at his PC. Vincent pulls from his
briefcase an identity card for a Notary Public and a second gun,
a .45 Cal Para-Ordnance back up. He moves the slide, checking
there's a round in the chamber. Max hears metal on metal, looks
up. As Vincent holsters it in the small of his back...
VINCENT (CONT'D)
(abrupt tone)
What are you lookin' at?
He gets out and enters the passenger seat next to Max in the
front.
VINCENT (CONT'D)
Hands on the wheel. Ten and two.
Like they taught you in driver's ed.
MAX
Why?
(CONTINUED)
9/30/03 MM revs. (cherry) 32.
32 CONTINUED: 32
VINCENT
Because I say so.
Max grips the steering wheel. Vincent has plastic ties and
proceeds quickly and efficiently to bind Max's hands to the
steering wheel.
VINCENT (CONT'D)
Cab's a disgrace. No wonder the cops
pulled you over.
On the way out of the car...
DISPATCH RADIO (O.S.)
Max? Max? You out there, you son of
a bitch?
Vincent looks to Max...
VINCENT
Who...is that?
MAX
Lenny, my dispatcher.
LENNY (O.S.)
I know you're out there! Answer the
goddamn call!
VINCENT
What happens if you don't?
MAX
He'll keep calling.
LENNY (O.S.)
Max? Answer!
Vincent reaches across Max, pulls the mike off the dash, holds
it up to Max's mouth.
VINCENT
Don't blow it.
Max nods. Vincent thumbs the toggle.
MAX
Uh, yeah? Lenny? It's me.
LENNY (O.S.)
I got off the phone with the cops. A
desk sergeant called to check you
brought the cab in...
(CONTINUED)
9/14/03 MM revs. (cherry) 33.
32 CONTINUED: (2) 32
Silence as Lenny waits for a reaction. Max and Vincent trade a
look. Vincent shrugs, thumbs the toggle. Say something.
MAX
Yeah? So?
LENNY (O.S.)
So? So, aside from I hate talking to
cops, they tell me you crashed the
goddamn cab?
MAX
It got crashed! I didn't...
LENNY (O.S.)
Do I care what, where or why? You're
payin'!
VINCENT
It was an accident. You're not
liable. (Tell him.)
MAX
It was an accident. I'm not liable.
LENNY (O.S.)
Bullshit! I'm making you liable!
It's comin' outta your goddamn
pocket...
Vincent stares at Max, expecting him to respond.
VINCENT
Tell him to stick the cab up his fat
ass.
MAX
I can't do that. He's the Man.
VINCENT
So what?
MAX
I need the job.
VINCENT
No you don't.
LENNY (O.S.)
You still there? I'm talking to you!
Max? Max?
Vincent abruptly puts the mike to his mouth, thumbs the toggle.
(CONTINUED)
9/14/03 MM revs. (cherry) 33A.
32 CONTINUED: (3) 32
VINCENT
He's not paying you a damn thing!
(CONTINUED)
9/30/03 MM revs. (cherry) 34.
32 CONTINUED: (4) 32
LENNY (O.S.)
Who the hell are you?
Vincent glances up, tilts the visor down to see Annie's business
card.
VINCENT
Richard Riccardo, Assistant U.S.
Attorney. A passenger in this
taxicab, and I'm reporting you to the
DMV...
LENNY (O.S.)
(beat)
Let's not get excited.
VINCENT
Not excited? How am I supposed to not
get excited, listening to you try to
extort a working man? You know
goddamn well your collision policy and
general liability umbrella would cover
the damages. What are you trying to
pull, you sarcastic prick?
LENNY (O.S.)
I'm just tryin' to...to...
VINCENT
Tell it to him.
(shifts the mike)
Tell him he's an asshole.
MAX
(hesitates)
You're an asshole.
VINCENT
Tell him next time he pulls any shit,
you're gonna stick this yellow cab up
his fat ass.
MAX
Next time you pull any shit, I'm gonna
stick this yellow cab up your fat ass.
Vincent clicks off, hangs up the mike. Looks at Max.
Beat. Max, taped to the steering wheel, nods.
VINCENT
(smiles)
Don't wait up, hon. I gotta work
late.
(CONTINUED)
9/24/03 MM revs. (green) 34A.
32 CONTINUED: (5) 32
He grabs the ignition keys, shuts Max's door, strolls away.
(CONTINUED)
10/2/03 MM revs. (tan) 35.
32 CONTINUED: (6) 32
Max watches in the sideview mirror as Vincent vanishes into the
building.
Max is left alone, trapped in his own cab in the alley.
Max jerks and strains against the duct tape, trying to free his
hands. He gives up, breathing hard.
32A OMIT 32A
32B INT. HOTEL, PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 32B
The overweight LAWYER, SYLVESTER CLARKE, who we saw on Vincent's
P.C., separates from two girls and a second man, all watching
TV, to answer a phone...
SYLVESTER CLARKE
He identify himself?
(beat)
Sure. Let him up.
32C INT. LOBBY - VINCENT 32C
in shades leaves the Hotel Security and enters the elevator.
Meanwhile...
A32D INT. HOTEL, PENTHOUSE - SYLVESTER CLARKE A32D
crosses towards the front door.
32D EXT. HOTEL - ALLEY - MOVING IN ON MAX 32D
He glances in the sideview, wondering where Vincent is,
straining for a glimpse.
Nothing. Just darkness back there... Mind racing...
MAX
HEY! HEY! OVER HERE! I'M IN THE
CAB! HEY! HELP!
The street traffic's distant; nobody's around.
MAX (CONT'D)
HELP! GODDAMN IT! THERE'S A MAN WITH
A GUN! HE'S GONNA KILL PEOPLE!
Max thrashes wildly against the duct tape, screaming with
frustration. He starts head-butting the car horn...
BEEEEEP! BEEP-BEEEEEEEEP! BEEEEEP! BEEP-BEEP-BEEEEEEEEEP!
He raises his head, checking the street traffic a quarter block
away. No one on the sidewalk takes notice of Max's cab.
(CONTINUED)
10/2/03 MM revs. (tan) 35A.
32D CONTINUED: 32D
MAX (CONT'D)
Oh, fuck me.
He shifts low on the seat, getting his knee under the dashboard.
He slams his knee up, hitting the RED EMERGENCY LIGHT BUTTON
concealed there. EMERGENCY STROBES START FLASHING at the front
and rear of the car...
...and still nobody notices.
MAX (CONT'D)
GODDAMN IT, I'M FLASHING LIKE A
CHRISTMAS TREE OVER HERE.
He throws a look to the sideview mirror, sweaty and tense,
knowing he's out of time.
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 36.
32D CONTINUED: (2) 32D
THE SIDEVIEW MIRROR
IN WHICH WE SEE Max's reflected eyes. Seconds ticking
breathlessly away as he struggles...
He head butts the horn again. BEEP-BEEP. BEEEEP. Flashers and
horn!
MEANWHILE the ANGLE SHIFTS in the mirror, leaving Max's eyes and
bringing into view the building and the penthouse at the top and
we SEE...
...TWO SILENT MUZZLE FLASHES light up the windows like
flashbulbs going off. Another death. Then A THIRD FLASH...then
nothing. Lights out. Meanwhile...
MAX (CONT'D)
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
He is head-butting the horn. BEEEEP. BEEP-BEEP. And he checks
the mirror. This time when he looks, he sees...
YOUNG WHITE GUYS. 20-25. They were on the sidewalk. Now they
detour into the alley and approach the distressed cab from the
back, shielding their eyes from Max's flashing lights.
MAX (CONT'D)
Oh. Oh, thank God! Hey, hey, man,
help me out here!
WHITE GUY #1
Yo, whassup?
MAX
(fast, stumbling)
I got my, my hands taped to the
steering wheel, here, by this guy,
who's taped me in the car, 'cause he's
up in the building somewhere...
CLOSER, now, the four are in baggies, hoodies and tattooed with
lightning bolts on their necks, swastikas on chests, one has
"5150" tattooed on his shaven eyebrow (police code for
emotionally disturbed)...
WHITE GUY #2
You all trapped in there and shit?
MAX
...yeah, he's coming back. Hurry.
Get me loose so I can call the cops...
WHITE GUY #1 nods...and pulls a chromed .380 and points it at
Max.
(CONTINUED)
9/22/03 MM revs. (yellow) 36A.
32D CONTINUED: (3) 32D
WHITE GUY #1
Fuck that, man, gimme your wallet.
(CONTINUED)
9/22/03 MM revs. (yellow) 37.
32D CONTINUED: (4) 32D
The others have walked off down the alley, laughing. One tosses
a beer bottle that smashes. Utter disbelief from Max...
MAX
Are you kidding me?
WHITE GUY #1
I will fuck you up! Hand it over.
MAX
(beat)
My hands are taped to the damn
steering wheel!
It takes a moment for WHITE GUY #1 to process this. He steps to
the window, presses the .380 against Max's cheek. It's utterly
terrifying, everything happening fast:
MAX (CONT'D)
...don't shoot me, don't shoot me...
WHITE GUY #1
Then get your ass up, up...
Max pulls himself up by the steering wheel, trying to get his
butt off the seat to give the Young Man access. The White Guy
#1 gropes for Max's back pocket, trying to get the wallet,
pressing the gun to his face, the other guys down the alley,
turn the corner.
White Guy #1 pulls Max's wallet, pockets it...
...and pauses, seeing Vincent's briefcase on the back seat.
He yanks open the back door, grabs Vincent's briefcase, too, and
walks off after his friends. White Guys #3 and #4 turned the
corner. White Guy #2 lingers.
Max, still taped, is shaken. He can't believe what happened.
He looks through the windshield at...
WHITE GUY #1
...walking off, cocky as hell, about to vanish into the night...
BACK OF WHITE GUY #1
VINCENT (O.S.)
Yo' homie...
White Guy #1 turns, to see the silhouette of Vincent. He raises
his .380 side-handed, like he sees gangsters do on MTV. White
Guy #2 joins him.
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 38.
32D CONTINUED: (5) 32D
VINCENT (CONT'D)
(even)
That my briefcase...?
White Guy #1 approaches Vincent from the front...#2 from
Vincent's left.
WHITE GUY #2
May-be. And what the fuck else you
got?
He closes on Vincent with the .380, held high and on the side.
Vincent's left slams aside #1's .380. Draws and FIRES from the
hip, putting TWO ROUNDS into #1. HAMMERS-ON TWO ROUNDS to the
sternum, pivots. ONE to the head of #2. All in 1.6 seconds.
White Guy #2, falling backwards, is dead before he hits the
ground. #1 never saw it coming. Vincent picks up his case,
retrieves something from #1's pocket, puts one more into the
head of #1 on the way back to the cab...
...where Max saw it all. Frozen in horror. Astonished.
The rear door opens. Vincent hefts his briefcase into the back
seat. He gets into the front.
Vincent sits for a moment, staring off, not looking at Max.
Maybe ready to kill him.
Vincent raises something into view. Max's wallet. He tosses it
in Max's lap.
Vincent flicks his hand. CLICK-CLACK, a Reeves folding hunter
in dull metal, razor sharp...
VINCENT
(quietly)
Where's the button? Under the dash?
MAX
(dry whisper)
Yeah.
Vincent leans over and slices the plastic tie, freeing Max's
hands. Beat.
VINCENT
You mind turning it off?
Max doesn't move for a moment, then reaches under the dash and
turns off the strobes.
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 39.
33 INT. CAB - MAX + VINCENT (TRAVELING) - NIGHT 33
Vincent in the back seat. (Juxtapose to a different continuity.
Through the side window, we see Crenshaw Boulevard barbershops,
music shops. We're stopped for a light.) Max is shell-shocked.
VINCENT
Another collateral.
MAX
What's that?
VINCENT
Collateral damage. People in the
wrong place at the wrong time.
(meets Max's gaze)
And you? You attract attention? You
are gonna get people killed who didn't
need to be. Understand?
MAX
I'm low on gas...
VINCENT
Pull in there.
33A EXT. GAS STATION, IN STREET - TAXI - NIGHT 33A
pulls by.
TIME-LAPSE - MACRO-CU: NUMBERS
race by. WIDEN. SEE Max filling up the taxi. Vincent is
positioned off the right rear corner from where he is line-of-
sight to everything. His affect is flat, distant. Max has
witnessed violent death and the full, lethal capabilities of
Vincent. Neither say a word...until softly...
MAX
Vincent?
VINCENT
Yes, Max?
MAX
Am I collateral?
Pause. A long one.
VINCENT
I haven't decided.
Max is silent. Absorbing this. Vincent checks his watch.
Unexpectedly, his mood changes up.
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 39A.
33A CONTINUED: 33A
VINCENT (CONT'D)
But, hey! New news. We are ahead of
schedule.
MAX
Huh...?
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 40.
33A CONTINUED: (2) 33A
VINCENT
We got time to kill.
(fast change-down)
You like jazz?
MAX
I'm...what? Sorry?
VINCENT
Jazz.
MAX
Not that much.
VINCENT
Guy told me about a place off
Crenshaw. Leimert Park. All the West
Coast greats played there. Dexter
Gordon, Thelonious Monk, Chet Baker.
Like that...
(off Max's look)
Buy you a drink. Expand your
horizons...
Max doesn't get Vincent's mood up-change.
CUT TO:
34 EXT. SOUTH UNION APARTMENT BUILDING, ALLEY - CRIME SCENE - 34
NIGHT
COPS and FORENSIC TECHNICIANS. In the midst of it all is:
Ray Fanning. He wears his badge, visibly, now. We find him
turning as his superior, RICHARD WEIDNER, 50-ish, is entering
the crime scene.
WEIDNER
...this informant of yours, what's his
name, Ramone?
FANNING
Ramone Gallardo. Supposed to take him
for a drink. I come here, find this.
WEIDNER
You been working him?
FANNING
Four months...a low-level player, he's
been feeding me stuff on Felix.
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 40A.
34 CONTINUED: 34
WEIDNER
Reyes-Torrena? Forget Felix. Feds
are all over that. They don't want us
anywhere near it.
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 41.
34 CONTINUED: (2) 34
FANNING
Since when is the LAPD working for the
Feeb?
(points up)
Besides, Ramone flew out a window. My
C.I. flew out a window, he's got
Felix's handprints on his ass. Yes?
That makes it ours.
WEIDNER
(as if to a child)
Where's the homicide, Ray? Where's a
body? All we got is glass...
He spreads his hands at the alley floor in a gesture that says
"show me something besides glass."
FEMALE CRIMINALIST (O.S.)
And blood...
WEIDNER
Huh?
FEMALE CRIMINALIST
(off looks)
...blood...down here...in the
glass...here's some more...
A FEMALE CRIMINALIST (SID) examines the alley floor with Luminol
and a handheld BLACKLIGHT WAND, picking out dark patterns.
FEMALE CRIMINALIST (CONT'D)
...small splatter patterns here...all
over there...
SHINING FLASHLIGHTS pick out blood on the alley wall. Fanning
steps to where the cab was parked, stands in the middle of the
blank spot surrounded by the glass, points down:
FANNING
Ramone flew out the window. Went
splat. Here's the glass.
(beat)
Then some tires rolled over it.
WEIDNER
How's that spell homicide? Maybe he
jumped.
FANNING
Sure. He's depressed. So he jumps
four stories out a window onto his
head.
(mimics)
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 41A.
34 CONTINUED: (3) 34
FANNING (CONT'D)
"Wow, that feels better!" Picks
himself up. "Now, I think I'll go on
with the rest of my day..."
PLAINCLOTHES COP (O.S.)
(from above)
Ray! Catch!
Two uniformed cops have approached.
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 42.
34 CONTINUED: (4) 34
Weidner and Fanning glance up. A PLAINCLOTHES COP is leaning
out of Ramone's broken window, dangling a clear plastic baggy.
He drops it. It comes sailing down...
...right into Fanning's grasp. He glances down at it, shows it
to Weidner...
TIGHT ON WEIDNER
...revealing two spent .45 cal. shell casings in the bag.
WEIDNER
(switches)
So, who's got what? Any witnesses?
We been knocking on doors?
COP #1
Old guy across the street, lives above
the deli? Says he saw a cab parked
here earlier tonight. There were two
guys working under the hood.
WEIDNER
Description. What did he see?
COP #1
"Kinda" saw...guy's got glasses like
coke bottles.
FANNING
Did he "see" it or did his seeing eye
dog see it?
COP #1
Late-model four-door Ford. Yellow or
orange.
(off Fanning's look)
Maybe it was a taxi cab.
WEIDNER
Four thousand taxis in LA County.
(beat)
What else...?
That's it. Uniforms go back to work. Photographer shows. He
doesn't know what to shoot.
(CONTINUED)
10/11/03 MM revs. (goldenrod) 43.
34 CONTINUED: (5) 34
Meanwhile, Fanning, lost in thought...
FANNING
Remember fall, 2001? That Bay Area
deal? Oakland. Cabbie drove around
all night. Killed three people...
WEIDNER
Then he flipped out, put the gun to
his head. So what?
FANNING
So the Oakland PD detective,
whatshisname, never bought it.
WEIDNER
Why?
FANNING
The Cabbie had no criminal record. No
history of mental illness. Pops three
people, then himself? And the victims
weren't random. Two were involved in
some pharmaceuticals scam...
(off Weidner's look)
Anyway, the detective always thought
there was somebody else in that cab.
35 INT. "DANIEL'S" JAZZ CLUB - NIGHT 35
Dark and elegant - in an early '60's modern jazz kind of way
with a low ceiling, small tables, leatherette booths, history
soaked into the walls. A BLACK MAN in his late 50's, DANIEL, is
playing a muted trumpet on stage with a QUARTET.
CUSTOMERS are few, clustered at small tables or at a few curved
leather booths. The walls are lined with great FRAMED PHOTOS of
jazz icons.
At one table, we find Vincent and Max. Vincent about the
music...
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 44.
35 CONTINUED: 35
VINCENT
...a little '60's, early Miles thing
happening...
MAX
I never learned to listen to jazz.
VINCENT
You don't learn to listen...anymore
than you learn to breathe. Open your
ears.
Vincent's attention's focused on the music.
MAX
I get a beat. I don't really hear a
melody...
VINCENT
...he's off the melody, behind the
notes. Outside what's expected.
Improvising off impulse. Kind of like
tonight.
MAX
Like tonight?
VINCENT
Sure.
(beat)
This is nothing, if not "What's next?
Right now. In the moment."
(beat)
There's people...ten years from now?
Same job, same place, same shit.
Everything the same; keepin' it safe.
Over and over and over and over...
(beat)
"Ten years from now?" Man, you don't
know where you'll be...ten minutes
from now...tonight.
(beat; re: saxophonist)
That's what he's saying. Open your
ears. You'll hear it...in his
"dialoguing" with the trumpet...
The WAITRESS arrives, an Asian woman with a tray of drinks:
WAITRESS
'Nother Vodka tonic, hon?
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 45.
35 CONTINUED: (2) 35
VINCENT
And one for my friend.
(indicates stage)
Who's on the tenor sax?
WAITRESS
That's Daniel, baby, he's the owner.
VINCENT
He is terrific. Would you be so kind
as to invite him over after his set?
I gotta buy him a drink.
WAITRESS
Sure thing, darlin'...
Vincent gives her a radiant smile and tucks a twenty dollar bill
into her apron as she leaves...
TIMECUT:
...and we find Daniel sharing more than a few drinks with
Vincent and Max, the place almost closed. Just the three of
them.
DANIEL
...I was a young cat back then, about
nineteen, bussin' tables. Right here.
Didn't pay but shit, but that wasn't
the point. Being around the music,
that was the thing. And I was. Take
this one night...July 22, 1964...who
walks in. Mr. Louis Armstrong.
VINCENT
You're kidding me.
DANIEL
Right through those doors. The man
himself.
VINCENT
Jesus...
DANIEL
He was in town playing two gigs a
night at the Coconut Grove in the
Ambassador Hotel... After his last
set, he decides to come on down to
South Central to hang with his people.
That's how he was, you see. Never
forgot who we was. Money and fame an'
all that? Meant nothin', long as he
could blow that horn.
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 46.
35 CONTINUED: (3) 35
DANIEL (CONT'D)
So before you know it, he's up on that
stage, doin' his thing.
VINCENT
Was it great? Better than great, it
had to be...
DANIEL
Like Winton Marsalis says, it was
pure, spiritual essence. Louis was
playing. God was smiling.
VINCENT
You heard Armstrong play live. I've
never been this jealous. You get to
talk to him?
DANIEL
Did better'n that.
Vincent gives him a questioning look. Daniel smiles, raises his
hands, mimes blowing a trumpet.
VINCENT
No.
DANIEL
Oh, my, yes.
VINCENT
C'mon...
DANIEL
Fella owned this place back then, cat
named Dix Dwyer, he let slip to Louis
that I played. So Pops, he just waves
me right up. My heart about stopped.
But I got up there all the same, and
we played for nearly twenty minutes.
VINCENT
Unbelievable...
(to Max)
...you hearing this?
Max is drawn into the story in spite of himself:
MAX
How'd you do?
DANIEL
How do you think? You ain't shit when
you playing next to Louis Armstrong.
But, Dippermouth, he was kind. He
could see me trying. He carried my ass
as best he could.
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 47.
35 CONTINUED: (4) 35
VINCENT
Remember what you played?
DANIEL
Most vividly.
(ticking them off)
"Potato Head Blues," "Sleepy Time Down
South..."
(laughs)
...then Pops laid some "Cornet Chop
Suey" on me, and left me in the dust
like a whipped dog.
VINCENT
Whipped dog?
DANIEL
Whipped dog on a wet night.
VINCENT
Crowd dig it?
DANIEL
(smiles, nods)
The crowd was most kind.
(beat)
I was born in 1945, but that was the
moment of my conception. Right here
in the used-to-be crowded room.
Daniel picks up the bottle to freshen up their drinks...
VINCENT
Crowds not here now?
DANIEL
Oh, jazz ain't the draw it used to be.
VINCENT
But the place looks great.
DANIEL
Only 'cause I got the wherewithal to
finance keepin' it up on my own.
VINCENT
What a great story. I'll tell the
folks in Culiacan and Bogota that
story.
...and Daniel's hand freezes just as he's about to pour. He
glances up at Vincent.
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 47A.
35 CONTINUED: (5) 35
DANIEL
You know the people in Culiacan and
Bogota?
VINCENT
(softly)
'Fraid so.
Max is glancing from one to the other, unsure what's going on.
Realizing it isn't good.
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 48.
35 CONTINUED: (6) 35
DANIEL
And here I thought you were such a
cool guy.
VINCENT
I am a cool guy. With a job I was
hired to do. You know how it is.
There's genuine regret in Vincent's tone. Max feels his heart
pounding, but manages to keep his voice steady:
MAX
Let him go, Vincent.
VINCENT
I'm working here.
MAX
You're the one who keeps talking about
going with the flow. You like the
man, you like the way he plays. How
about a little jazz, huh?
VINCENT
Improvisation? That's funny from you.
(thinks about it, looks to
Daniel)
Okay, some jazz for the jazz man.
How's this? I'll ask a question?
DANIEL
What question?
VINCENT
Jazz question. You get it right, we
roll. You disappear. Tonight. You
don't go home, you don't pack a bag,
you leave town...and nobody, I mean
nobody, ever hears from you or sees
you again.
DANIEL
How do I know you'll keep your word?
VINCENT
I never lie. Ask Max. Max, have I
lied?
Daniel looks to Max. Hope, fear, and desperation in the older
man's face.
MAX
No. No. He hasn't lied...
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 49.
35 CONTINUED: (7) 35
Daniel absorbs this, looks back to Vincent.
DANIEL
Means you're a man who lives on
reputation.
(beat)
I will take your word. And I will
give you mine. If I walk out of here
tonight, I'd go so far away, it'd be
just like I was dead.
Vincent nods. We have a deal. He eases something from his
waistband. Max knows. His heart is in his throat.
DANIEL (CONT'D)
And one more thing. Those guys and
their man, here, what's his name,
Felix?
VINCENT
Yeah.
DANIEL
Tell them, if by some chance I get
this wrong...you tell them I had to.
They laid a grant of immunity on me.
So it was flip and play ball or go
back inside. I ain't goin' back
inside.
VINCENT
Sure.
Daniel pours himself that drink. He lifts his shot glass, hand
trembling slightly, knocks it back. Sets the glass down.
DANIEL
Lay it on.
VINCENT
It's simple. What was Louis' first
musical instrument?
DANIEL
I know all there is to know about
Louis.
VINCENT
Then let's have it.
Daniel hesitates.
(CONTINUED)
9/14/03 MM revs. (cherry) 49A.
35 CONTINUED: (8) 35
MAX
(blurts out)
It was a trumpet! Wasn't it? Wasn't
it a trumpet?
Daniel shakes his head.
DANIEL
Coronet. Bought it from a New Orleans
pawnshop when he was a kid.
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 50.
35 CONTINUED: (9) 35
DANIEL (CONT'D)
Cost him five dollars. Got a two-
dollar advance on his salary from a
fine Jewish family he worked for,
saved up the rest.
A frozen moment. An endless pause. Max not even breathing,
staring at Vincent, waiting...
...a beat of regret...
...and Vincent's gun came up so fast, Max didn't even see it.
THREE SMALL POPS. A different gun: .22 caliber Ruger with a
thick, silent barrel. Three small holes. And Daniel's head
falls forward. Vincent catches it, arranges Daniel's arms so
that Daniel's head rests on them as if he's taking a nap. And
Vincent did it gently, almost regretfully. A red mist of blood
swirls in the air.
Max is stunned beyond words, and powder-burned at such close
range.
Silence now. No one's noticed. The waitress was in the
kitchen. Softly:
VINCENT
Tin horn. Cost him a dime. Rode the junk
wagon and played for the neighborhood.
People sold them stuff. Rags.
Bottles. Whatever.
Max sits frozen, unable to move...
CUT TO:
36 EXT. STREET OUTSIDE JAZZ CLUB - NIGHT 36
...and they exit the club. Vincent heads for the cab, turns and
sees Max standing there.
VINCENT
Let's go.
MAX
No.
VINCENT
What you mean, no?
MAX
I'm done. Find another cab.
Max turns, walking away. Vincent blinks at him, almost laughs.
(CONTINUED)
9/30/03 MM revs. (cherry) 51.
36 CONTINUED: 36
VINCENT
Max?
MAX
Leave me alone.
(shouting)
I'm collateral anyway, so do it and
stop making me a part of this!
(beat)
I don't wanna know you!
Vincent grabs the back of his collar, slams him against the
wall. Max's neck is a centimeter from breaking. Their faces
are inches apart.
VINCENT
(low, threatening)
I'm not playing.
MAX
You played him, man.
(off Vincent's look)
He got the answer right, would you
have let him go?
The question hangs in the air. Before Vincent can answer, the
DISPATCH RADIO CRACKLES:
LENNY (FILTERED)
Max? Maaax. Pick up, you dipshit.
VINCENT
What is it with this guy?
LENNY (FILTERED)
Maaaaaax!
Vincent spins Max, controls him, as he propels him to the cab,
slams him against the fender.
Vincent releases him, points at him. Don't move. He reaches
into the cab, pulls out the radio mike, clicks it on.
VINCENT
You hassling my man again?
LENNY
Who are you?
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 52.
36 CONTINUED: (2) 36
VINCENT
Same fare you talked to last time.
LENNY (FILTERED)
What are you guys, taking an all-night
tour?
VINCENT
We're gay lovers, what's it to you?
LENNY (FILTERED)
Nothing! Aside from every night Max's
mother driving me crazy, I'm dancin'
on a rainbow! May he come on the
line, please.
VINCENT
Hang on.
(to Max)
Carefully...
Max takes the hand mike, clicks it on.
MAX
Yeah?
LENNY (FILTERED)
Your mother's calling every ten
minutes. Why didn't he show? Are you
all right? Where are you?
VINCENT
(whispers)
Show for what?
MAX
(ignoring him)
Tell her I can't make it tonight,
okay?
LENNY (FILTERED)
What am I, related to you? You tell
her yourself!
Lenny CLICKS OFF. Dead air.
VINCENT
Show up for what?
MAX
She's in the hospital.
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 53.
36 CONTINUED: (3) 36
VINCENT
You visit every night?
MAX
Yeah. What difference does it make?
VINCENT
Cause if you don't show it breaks a
routine.
MAX
So?
VINCENT
So people start looking for you, this
cab. That is not good.
MAX
No. I can't take you to see my
mother...
VINCENT
Since when was any of this negotiable?
CUT TO:
37 INT. HOSPITAL - ENTRANCE - NIGHT 37
Stark corridors, queasy fluorescent lighting, PATIENTS and STAFF
MEMBERS. A row of INJURED PEOPLE are seated along one wall,
waiting for attention.
The AUTOMATIC DOORS swing open. Max and Vincent enter, the
briefcase held at Vincent's side. As they enter and proceed up
the corridor...
VINCENT
Stay three paces in front of me and
one to my left...
Max, seeing the innocent people along the walls, complies.
Vincent sees in the ceiling a security camera mounted in a
Perspex hemisphere and averts his face towards Max...
VINCENT (CONT'D)
Flowers?
Max turns, sees a row of FLOWER BOUQUETS at the gift counter.
MAX
Waste of money. Won't mean a thing to
her.
Vincent pulls an arrangement, tosses the flowers to Max, pulls
his wallet to pay.
(CONTINUED)
9/21/03 MM revs. (pink) 53A.
37 CONTINUED: 37
VINCENT
(sincere)
She carried you in her womb for nine
months.
9/29/03 MM revs. (salmon) 54.
38 INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT 38
The elevator arrives. Vincent and Max get on. Vincent presses
the button and the doors start to close...
MAN'S VOICE
Hold, please...
Vincent puts his hand out, stopping the doors. A MAN slides in
the elevator with them...
38A INT. THE ELEVATOR 38A
...and turns around. Detective Ray Fanning. He doesn't see Max
in the back corner. His back is to him.
FANNING
Five. Thanks.
Vincent hits the button. The doors close.
The three of them ride up in that awkward silence you only ever
experience with strangers in elevators. He glances to Vincent
at the control panel, nods.
VINCENT
Having a good night?
FANNING
Mezzo-mezzo. You?
Vincent nods. Making do. The elevator stops. Vincent and Max
get off to the right. Fanning continues riding up one more
floor...
39 INT. FIFTH FLOOR HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - ELEVATOR DOORS - NIGHT 39
open. Fanning gets off, turns a corner. SEE a sign indicating
"MORGUE."
40 INT. HOSPITAL ROOM, LOWER FLOOR - MAX - NIGHT 40
(POSSIBLY INCLUDE CORRIDOR)
Enters with the flowers. Vincent appears behind him, hovering
in the doorway. Max moves toward the bed...
...where IDA RILKE lies hooked up to a heart monitor, a clear
plastic oxygen mask over her mouth. She opens her eyes.
MAX
Hi, Ma.
(CONTINUED)
9/29/03 MM revs. (salmon) 54A.
40 CONTINUED: 40
IDA
I've been calling and calling.
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 55.
40 CONTINUED: (2) 40
MAX
I got caught up at work.
IDA
Why couldn't you call me on the
telephone? I'm lying here, wondering
if something horrible happened to
you...
MAX
(to cut her off)
I brought you flowers.
IDA
What am I gonna do with flowers?
MAX
You're gonna cheer up.
IDA
How? By worrying...
(wheezes)
...that you spend money on
things...that all they're gonna do is
wilt and die?
MAX
(to Vincent)
See?
(to Ida, defensively)
I didn't buy 'em. He did.
IDA
Who? Come in. What I got is not
contagious.
(beat)
Why didn't you tell me we had company?
(to Vincent)
And what's your name? Sorry. My son
is rude.
VINCENT
No harm done, madam.
She takes the flowers from Max, making a fuss over them:
IDA
You paid for my flowers? They're
beautiful. Max, will you introduce
us?
(CONTINUED)
10/4/03 MM revs. (blue) 56.
40 CONTINUED: (3) 40
MAX
Mom, Vincent. Vincent, my mother,
Ida.
Vincent sets his briefcase by the door,