THE BIJOU

                              by

                        Michael Sloane




























                                             REVISED DRAFT

                                             October 14, 1997





                           "... the magic is all around you.
                                  All the time.  Everywhere.
                                             In every thing.
                                 The trick... is to see it."



IN BLACK...

... the insistent, persistent, eight-to-the-bar beat of
BOOGIE-WOOGIE.  Hot, exciting, pulsating rhythm, ramping up.

THEN...

... in the blackness, falling s-l-o-w-l-y, tumbling
g-e-n-t-l-y, a picture-postcard:

                "GREETINGS FROM HOLLYWOOD!"

Then another... and another, each one dropping through frame,
a gentle rain.

In these old postcards, Hollywood is a dream town where movie
stars glide out of big cars to press their hands-and-
footprints in the wet cement.

Another postcard:

        "I'M MEETING THE STARS AT HOLLYWOOD & VINE!"

In this postcard myth, you'd toddle down to Hollywood and
Vine, bump into Bogie and Bacall, and join them for dinner at
the Brown Derby.  Or Ciro's.  Or the Coconut Grove...

More postcards.  Pictures of movie theaters, but not the ones
that you and I know today.  These are palaces.  Temples. 
Grauman's Chinese and Egyptian.  The Carthay Circle.  The
Paramount, the Million Dollar.  From a time when moviegoing
was a complete experience, not a trip to the local mall.  The
ushers were friendly and helpful and wore gold brocaded
jackets and guided you to your seat.  The popcorn was hot and
fresh and buttered with real butter, not 30-weight motor oil.

                                                  CUT TO:

THE PILE OF POSTCARDS

a wild jumble.  Then, one LAST POSTCARD drops lazily on top
of the pile.  It's a view of Hollywood at night, a carpet of
lights under the yawning, protective smile of Mt. Lee's most
famous resident, the fully-lit HOLLYWOOD SIGN.  We PUSH INTO
THE PICTURE OF THE SIGN, DISSOLVING UNTIL WE'RE...

... PUSHING INTO THE REAL HOLLYWOOD SIGN, closer and closer,
until we fly right through it -- then crazily loop up and
behind it until we're looking down at...

EXT.  HOLLYWOOD (AERIAL VIEW) - NIGHT

SUPER TITLE: 1951

A gigantic aerial shot.  Postwar autos fill the muggy
midsummer evening air with the sounds of thousands of HONKING
HORNS, a mere precursor to the traffic yet to come.  Darkened
outlying neighborhoods are evidence of the postwar home
construction boom, as scores of stucco bungalows are being
built in the areas surrounding the beating heart of the town,
a swath of garishly bright concrete called

HOLLYWOOD BOULEVARD.

                    PETE'S NARRATION (V.O.)
          Of course, it's not like the
          postcards say it is.  This is what
          it's like.  I'm Pete Appleton, and
          this is my town.

Still in the same shot, we rocket down into the center of the
intersection of Hollywood and Vine, then head west along the
boulevard, skimming just above the traffic -- past Musso and
Frank's Grill and the Hollywood Canteen, past the Egyptian
Theater and a rumbling Pacific Electric Red Car, across
Highland Avenue, past the Paramount Theater, and across the
street to

GRAUMAN'S CHINESE THEATER.

                    PETE'S NARRATION (V.O.)
          Born and raised here, thank you
          very much.  Sometimes, it seems
          like everyone here is from
          somewhere else.  But everyone loves
          the movies, so Hollywood is
          everyone's town, and they come here
          by the busload.  To them, Grauman's
          Chinese Theater is just about the
          most exciting place on the planet. 
          To me, it's the theater that's
          playing "The African Queen."

And like the man said, the film on the marquee is "THE
AFRICAN QUEEN."  Still the same shot, buses disgorge
TOURISTS, who move into the forecourt of the theater.  The
MEN doff their hats and mop their brows.  The WOMEN pull
their blouses away from their chests, fanning themselves with
movie-star maps as they marvel at the signed cement blocks. 
We MOVE AMONG THEM, until we pick up A COUPLE, and we stay
behind them as they work their way through the crowd, on
their way to

THE THEATER ENTRANCE,

where an ornately attired DOORMAN smiles and tears their
tickets.

                    DOORMAN
          Newsreel's just starting, folks.

                    PETE'S NARRATION (V.O.)
          That's me and my girlfriend.  Her
          name is Sandra Sinclair, and this
          is her town, too -- she's from
          Cleveland.  She came out here to be
          an actress, and that's just what
          she's doing.  The first picture I
          ever wrote, a little potboiler
          called "Sand Pirates of the
          Sahara."  Okay, it ain't "Citizen
          Kane," but you gotta start
          somewhere.

MOVING INTO THE LOBBY

an explosion of glitz mixed with Chinese myth and legend. 
Everywhere you look, it's red and orange and plush carpeting
and golden light.  We MOVE THROUGH the lobby, still in the
same shot, still tracking the couple, heading for the
auditorium doors, which are swept open by two ramrod-erect
USHERS and we move into

THE DARKENED THEATER.

As the couple, Pete and Sandra, find seats, we HEAR the
soundtrack of the film before we see the screen, the
unmistakable strains of a march, and then -- still in the
same shot -- we see the screen...

A NEWSREEL.

As the march SWELLS to a crescendo, we HEAR THE NEWSREEL
ANNOUNCER'S SONOROUS VOICE:

                    NEWSREEL ANNOUNCER
          Bringing the news of the world to
          you!

Over a newsreel shot of a packed Congressional Committee
Hearing Room, a title blares "HOLLYWOOD REDS GO TO JAIL!"

                    NEWSREEL ANNOUNCER
          Four years ago, in one of
          filmland's darkest hours, ten men,
          the so-called "Hollywood Ten," were
          called to testify before the House
          Committee of Un-American
          Activities, investigating the
          proliferation of the dreaded Red
          Menace in Hollywood.

We see several shots of WITNESSES engaged in heated verbal
battles with congressmen, especially Committee Chairman T. 
JOHNSTON DOYLE and the Majority Counsel, ELVIN CLYDE.

                    NEWSREEL ANNOUNCER
          Refusing to answer the lawmaker's
          questions, cowering behind the
          Fifth Amendment's protection
          against self-incrimination, the ten
          motion picture writers dared
          Congress to come after them.  Well,
          come after them they did!  And
          after years of court wrangling,
          it's now time to pay the piper!

Over shots of several of the "Hollywood Ten" being led to
jail in handcuffs, the newsreel narration continues.

                    NEWSREEL ANNOUNCER
          And so, it's off to jail, the
          charge: Contempt of Congress!  This
          should give you fellas something to
          write about now!  A new round of
          investigations begins this fall,
          the mandate: Get the reds out of
          Hollywood!

In the audience, one man YELLS "Lock up the commie
bastards!," and a few others cheer and laugh.  As the
newsreel moves on to a somewhat more innocuous subject, we
WHEEL AROUND AND...

ENDFRAME ON PETE APPLETON AND SANDRA SINCLAIR.

Pete's a handsome fellow in his 30s, and Sandra's a starlet
pretty girl in her mid-20s.  As she rummages in her purse,
Pete watches the newsreel.

                    SANDRA
          Pete, there's time before the
          picture starts, you want to get
          some popcorn?

                    PETE
          You bet, honey.

Pete kisses Sandra on the cheek, then stands and sprints up
the aisle to the concession stand, a big unworried grin on
his face.

                    PETE'S NARRATION (V.O.)
          We were young, we were in love, and
          we were working in pictures. 
          Life... was good.

                                             DISSOLVE TO:

EXT.  UNITED PICTURES STUDIOS - MAIN GATE - MORNING

Pete pulls up to the guard kiosk in his spiffy yellow
convertible Plymouth.  The Guard, RAY, steps out to meet him. 
Pete lights up a cigarette.  We get a better sense of him
now.  Though earnest, he's jocular, and a bit of a fast
talker.

                    PETE
              (very chipper)
          Mornin', Ray.  Whaddya know whaddya
          say?  Me and Sandra caught "The
          African Queen" at the Chinese last
          night.  Great picture, great
          picture.

Ray is nonplussed.  Tips his hat.  Regards Pete suspiciously.

                    RAY
          Mr. Appleton.

                    PETE
          What's with this "Mr. Appleton"
          crap?  Your boss hiding in there?

                    RAY
          You're clear to go in.

                    PETE
          What's that mean?

Ray heads back to his kiosk, shaking his head.

                    RAY
          Have a pleasant day.

Pete, covering his worry well, drives onto the lot.

EXT.  UNITED PICTURES STUDIOS - WRITER'S BUILDING - MORNING

Pete pulls up, hops out, grinds out his cigarette, looks
around and goes inside.

INT.  WRITER'S BUILDING HALLWAY - MORNING

Pete comes down the hall a few steps, stops.  Something's
wrong.  It's awfully quiet.  He pokes his head into the door
marked "TYPING POOL."

INT.  TYPING POOL - MORNING

A sea of black Underwoods -- all silent.  The lights in the
room are off, and hard shafts of morning sun stream in
through the windows.  One typists, LOUISE, is going from
machine to machine, pulling covers over them.

                    PETE
          Louise... what gives?

She looks up, startled.

                    LOUISE
          Oh Pete... they, uh, they gave
          everybody the day off... while they
          sort things out.

                    PETE
          Sort what out?  Are my pages done?

                    LOUISE
          They took 'em.

                    PETE
          They took 'em?  Who took 'em? 
          Louise, what's going on...

                    LOUISE
          Pete, I'm not even supposed to be
          talking to you...

She rushes past him.  Pete doesn't quite know what to think.

                    MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
          Good morning, Peter.

Pete turns.  The voice belongs to Pete's agent, LEO KUBELSKY,
a rotund man in his fifties.  He wears a perfectly tailored
silk suit.

                    PETE
          Leo... what's going on?

                                                  CUT TO:

EXT.  STUDIO STREET - DAY

FROM FAR AWAY, we watch as Leo and Pete come out of the
Writer's Building and join a flood of DRESS EXTRAS, all done
up in Puritan pilgrim garb and heading for the commissary.

As they move through the mob and emerge on the other side,
it's clear that Pete is reeling from something he's just been
told.

PETE AND LEO

                    LEO
          Peter, their hands are tied.  You
          see that, don't you?

                    PETE
          I... I don't believe this.

                    LEO
          Are you saying it's a mistake, that
          you didn't go to any meetings? 
          They say you did.

                    PETE
          Who the hell is this "they?"

                    LEO
          Congress, the FBI, Red Channels, it
          don't matter who the hell "they"
          is.  "They" know who "they" are,
          that's all that matters.
              (deliberately)
          Now, did you go to any meetings?

                    PETE
              (on the spot)
          No.  Yeah... I... I don't know. 
          Maybe I did.  Leo, this was before
          Pearl Harbor.  I was in college. 
          It was a bunch of kids, and I was
          just one of 'em.  I didn't believe
          in what they were saying.  Hell, I
          didn't even know what they were
          saying!

                    LEO
          So, you're saying that it's true. 
          You went to a meeting of a known
          communist organization.

                    PETE
          Leo, I was trying to impress a
          skirt.  You know me, I'm non-
          political.  Republican, Democrat,
          Communist, there's not a dime's
          worth of difference between 'em
          anyway.

                    LEO
          You should watch what you say.

                    PETE
          I don't know who fingered me, but
          I'm not a communist!

                    LEO
          Kid, that cuts no ice with them.

                    PETE
              (frustrated)
          What?  That I'm accused of being a
          communist when I don't happen to be
          one?

                    LEO
          They know you were at that meeting,
          Peter.  They've been told, and they
          know.

                    PETE
          Leo, you're my agent.  Tell "them"
          to take a flyin' piss.  I didn't do
          anything wrong.  I fought in the
          war, for crissakes!

                    LEO
          Fought?  Come on, Pete, you ran the
          PX at Fort Dix.

                    PETE
          I was decorated.

                    LEO
          I know.  A Purple Heart.

                    PETE
          Exactly.

                    LEO
          You broke your arm.  You were
          coming out of a bar.  You were
          drunk.

                    PETE
          At least I was on our side!  Look,
          they want me to testify?  I'll
          testify.  I'll tell 'em anything
          they want to hear!  Jesus, Leo,
          this is my career!

                    LEO
          You can't testify.

                    PETE
          Why not?

Leo takes a gold cigarette care from his breast pocket,
offers a cigarette to Pete and takes one for himself.

                    LEO
          Don't take this personally, kid. 
          If it were up to me, I'd have you
          testify wearing your uniform and
          your medal, wrapped in a flag with
          one hand on your heart and the
          other hand on a bible.  What can I
          say?  I like you.

Leo lights Pete's cigarette and his own.  Puts a fatherly
hand on his shoulder.

                    LEO
          They don't want you to testify
          because you're not a big enough
          fish for them.  They just don't
          want you writing pictures for now. 
          That's all.

                    PETE
              (under his breath)
          Yeah, well, that's enough.

                    LEO
          Peter, I believe in you.  More to
          the point, I read your new
          script... um...

                    PETE
          "Ashes To Ashes?"

                    LEO
          That's the one, "Ashes To Ashes." 
          I think it's great.  But it'll
          never get made with this communist
          business hanging over your head. 
          You can't work until you're cleared
          -- and believe me, starting right
          now, I'm gonna do everything I can
          to make that happen.

                    PETE
          So, it is a blacklist.

                    LEO
              (defensive)
          Don't say that.  There is no such
          thing as a blacklist.
              (calm)
          Now, are you gonna play ball?

                    PETE
              (sullenly)
          Yes.
              (then, pissed)
          Leo, goddammit... this isn't fair!

Leo blows out a thin stream of smoke.

                    LEO
              (hand on Pete's shoulder)
          Kid, this is the United States
          Government we're talkin' about. 
          Fair ain't the point.

                                                  CUT TO:

INT.  WRITER'S BUILDING/PETE'S OFFICE - DAY

Prominent on the wall is a framed "SAND PIRATES OF THE
SAHARA" poster.  Pete reaches up and takes it down.  He leans
it up against the desk, then sits heavily in the wooden
swivel chair.  He swivels around to see

A STUDIO SECURITY GUARD

standing by the door.  He's watching Pete's every move.

Two boxes sit on the desk, partially packed with Pete's
belongings.  Pete lights a cigarette and opens the lower desk
drawer.  He pulls out a stack of scripts and sets them on the
desk.  He looks at the cover of the first one:

                "SAND PIRATES OF THE SAHARA"
                     By Peter Appleton
                A United Pictures Production
                     February 19, 1951

Pete shuffles the scripts and looks at the cover of the
second one:

                      "ASHES TO ASHES"
                     By Peter Appleton

He jams the scripts into one box and turns to the other box,
which contains somewhat more personal items.  A ragged gold
pillow with tassels.  Legal pads of notes.  An old tin-toy
fire truck, its bright red paint chipped and worn.  He turns
it around in his hands.

                    PETE
              (musing)
          Huh.  Red...

Footsteps approach, and Pete swivels toward the door.

                    SANDRA (O.S.)
          Pete?  Pete...?

Sandra appears in the doorway.  She's in costume -- a Louis
XIV courtier.  She bustles past the Guard, rushes to Pete and
embraces him.

                    SANDRA
          Oh, Pete...

They kiss.  The Guard watches their every move.

                    SANDRA
          What happened?

                    PETE
          What exactly did you hear?

                    SANDRA
          That you got let go.

                    PETE
          I wasn't alone.  Wasn't Frankie
          Ruskin directing the picture you're
          in?

                    SANDRA
          He was, but he got sick.  We got a
          new director today.  Why?

                    PETE
          Well, whatever Frankie's got, it's
          catching.

                    SANDRA
          You mean, he was... let go, too?

                    PETE
              (sotto, an appeal)
          They're saying I'm a communist,
          Sandy.  But I'm not, you know that. 
          I'm gonna fight 'em, and I'm gonna
          win, but I'll need your help.

During this last, Sandra has been ever-so-slightly pulling
away from Pete.

                    PETE
          A lot of good people are being
          accused of things they didn't do. 
          Hell, even if I was a communist,
          this is America, goddammit, a
          person should be able to be
          whatever they want to be!  Right?

Sandra glances at the Guard, who is watching everything.

                    SANDRA
              (nervously)
          Of course, but I... I don't know
          how I... how much help I can be to
          you.  This is the sort of thing...
          someone saying you're a
          communist... it can ruin your
          career.

Pete sees where this is going.  She's edging toward the door.

                    PETE
          Will you help me, Sandy?

                    SANDRA
          I'll have to think about this.  I
          have to get back... I should go...

And she's out the door and gone in the blink of an eye.  Pete
looks at the Guard.

                    PETE
          So nice to be a pariah.

The Guard turns away.  Pete moves back toward the boxes. 
Rummaging again, he comes up with a bottle of Jack Daniels
with barely one swig left.  He regards the bottle for a
moment, looks to see if the Guard is watching (he isn't),
pops the cork, puts it to his lips and drains it.  He looks
at it thoughtfully as we

                                                  CUT TO:

A HALF-FULL BOTTLE OF JACK DANIELS setting down on a bartop.

WIDER

INT.  THE FROLIC ROOM - NIGHT

The bottle is in front of Pete, who sits at the bar, quietly
getting stewed.  The Frolic Room is a classic Hollywood dive,
dimly lit and full of character and characters.  It's a quiet
night and getting quieter, as several PATRONS are just
leaving, waving goodbye to the bartender, JERRY, early 40s. 
Jerry turns to Pete, eyes him suspiciously from the end of
the bar.  Pete picks up the bottle and pours another shot. 
Good boy, he got most of it in the glass.

                    JERRY
          Pete.  You think maybe you've had
          enough?

                    PETE
          Bought the bottle, didn't I?
              (raises the shot)
          To the United States of America. 
          Long my she wave.

He knocks it back and Jerry pours him another.

                    PETE
              (trying to light a smoke)
          Thanks, Jerry.  Tell me something.

                    JERRY
          What.

                    PETE
          You tight with J. Edgar Hoover?

                    JERRY
              (helps Pete light his
               cigarette)
          The G-man?

                    PETE
              (thickly)
          Zackly.

                    JERRY
          Pete, if J. Edgar Hoover walked in
          here wearing a dress, I wouldn't
          know him.

                    PETE
          Too bad.  He says I'm a communist.

                    JERRY
              (glancing around)
          You should watch what you say.  You
          don't know who's listening.

                    PETE
          You know I'm not a communist, don't
          you, Jer?

                    JERRY
          Sure, I suppose.  That why you're
          on a bender?

                    PETE
          This is not a bender yet.  This is
          the start of a bender.  But I can
          see how you were confused, they
          look a lot alike.

Pete drains his shotglass, puts it back on the bar.  He
watches Jerry, who is not about to refill it.  Pete reaches
for the bottle, but Jerry is faster.  

                    JERRY
          Pete... go home.  Come on, I'll
          call that girlfriend of yours,
          what's her name... Sandy?

                    PETE
              (laughs)
          Sandra Sinclair.

                    JERRY
          Gimmee her number, I'll have her
          pick you up.

                    PETE
          Sandra Sinclair.  Wanna know her
          real name?  Bella Iskowitz.  No
          one's who they really are, Jer. 
          Everyone's someone else.  Even you. 
          Even me.  Especially me.  I'm Peter
          Appleton, the communist who's not
          really a communist.

                    JERRY
          I wanna close up soon.  C'mon,
          let's call her.

Peter stands, stubs out his smoke, drops a few crumpled bills
on the bar and grabs his hat.

                    PETE
          Nope.  Can't.  We're through.

                    JERRY
          Then I'll call you a cab.

                    PETE
          I'll save you the trouble.
              (beat)
          I'm a cab.  There.  Did it myself.

Pete's preoccupied with putting on his hat and getting his
car keys out of his coat pocket, a daunting task in his
condition.

                    PETE
          'Sides, car's right outside.  I'll
          be seein' ya, Jer.

                    JERRY
          Pete...

And he's out the door.

EXT.  FROLIC ROOM - NIGHT

Pete takes a few steps, stumbles, stops, takes a deep breath,
then totters briskly towards his car.  He hauls the door open
and sits inside heavily.

INT./ EXT.  PETE'S CAR - NIGHT

Sitting slumped against the steering wheel, Pete looks as
though he could fall asleep right there, which would probably
be a good idea.

                    PETE
              (mumbling)
          Drive.  Drive.  Bad idea.  Too
          drunk to drive.

He looks at his watch.

                    PETE
          One-thirty.  Huh!  Early.  Can't go
          home yet.

He turns the key and hits the starter.  The engine hums to
life.  Pete sits up, opens his eyes wide, shakes off the haze
and puts the car in gear.

The Plymouth lurches forward a few yards, screeches to a halt
and stalls.

                    PETE
          Oops.

He re-starts the car, puts it in gear, and pulls away and
down the deserted boulevard.

                                             DISSOLVE TO:

EXT.  SANTA MONICA BEACH, AMUSEMENT PIER - NIGHT

The full moon is low over the ocean.  Pete's car is parked at
the edge of the sand, the water fifty yards away.  The ferris
wheel and the roller coaster of the amusement pier are dark
and eerie silhouettes, lit only by moonlight.  Pete is asleep
in the driver's seat, head tilted back, his hat covering his
face, snoring.

The waves CRASH against the pilings and startle Pete awake.

                    PETE
          Huh?  Whatsa...

Instantly, he grabs his head.

                    PETE'S NARRATION (V.O.)
          I had no idea how I got to Santa
          Monica, but it certainly was a good
          idea.  I don't think I could've
          faced the headache I had alone in
          my apartment.  At least I had the
          ocean air.

Pete takes a deep breath... and starts coughing.  He gets out
his cigarettes and lights up.  He takes a puff and glances at
his watch.

                    PETE'S NARRATION (V.O.)
          Three forty-five.  I had only been
          there for a couple of hours at
          most.  Truth be told, I was still
          fairly drunk.

He starts the car and heads for the highway.

                    PETE'S NARRATION (V.O.)
          I'd head north until the sun came
          up or I ran out of gas, whichever
          came first.

                                             DISSOLVE TO:

EXT.  PACIFIC COAST HIGHWAY - NIGHT

Pete drives along the moonlit two-lane blacktop.  Waves crash
to the shore below the roadway.

INT./ EXT.  PETE'S CAR (DRIVING) - NIGHT

Pete is finally relaxed.  He takes off his hat and jams it
down in the back seat.  He takes a deep breath -- with the
wind in his hair, a smile grows on his face and he seems at
peace.  He glances down at the speedometer -- then at the
fuel gauge.

INSERT - FUEL GAUGE

Pinning on "empty."

                    PETE
          Shit.

                    PETE'S NARRATION (V.O.)
          Guess which came first.

He scans the road ahead -- nothing.  Glances to his right.

PETE'S POV

The lights of a small town can be seen off in the distance.

Pete veers the car off the highway and makes the turn that
will take him toward the lights.  He passes a hand-painted
sign that gives him hope: "GAS - 1 MI."

                                                  CUT TO:

EXT.  RORY'S GAS STATION - NIGHT

Pete's car rolls up and stops.  There's a light on the sign
and another in the station's window, but the place is
deserted.

                    PETE'S NARRATION (V.O.)
          I should've known better than to
          think that a service station in the
          sticks would be open at this hour,
          but it wasn't like I had a lot of
          choices.

Pete looks ahead toward the town.  Its few lights twinkle in
the distance.

                    PETE'S NARRATION (V.O.)
          What the hell.  At least there'd be
          a diner opening in a couple of
          hours.  I'd get some pie and
          coffee, and then I could worry
          about the gas.

Pete pulls out onto the road.

EXT.  ROAD - NIGHT

Pete's car trundles along, blowing past a hand-painted
roadside sign which reads:

                           SLOW!
         NARROW BRIDGE - SINGLE LANE - NO GUARDRAIL
                        USE CAUTION!

INT./ EXT.  PETE'S CAR (DRIVING) - NIGHT

Pete's headlights catch a glimpse of another sign, reading
"LAWSON WASH," just in front of a small wooden auto bridge.

Barely reducing his speed, Pete heads onto the bridge...

HIS POV - THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD

... his headlights pick up the glowing eyes of a hapless
possum...

Pete swerves to avoid the animal, and a wheel drops off the
edge...

EXT.  BRIDGE - NIGHT

... and the Plymouth careens over the side of the bridge and
into the rapidly-moving water below!

EXT.  UNDERWATER - NIGHT

The water is flowing very quickly, and the current is
intense.  Pete pulls himself out of the driver's seat
(thankfully, it's a convertible) and swims over the
windshield.

But... his left sleeve is caught on the door handle.  Nearly
out of breath and panicking, Pete shucks off the jacket and
heads for the surface.

EXT.  THE WASH - NIGHT

Pete breaks the surface and gasps for air.  His fight isn't
over yet, as the current is pulling him rapidly downstream. 
He swims with all his might toward the far bank.

EXT.  FAR BANK OF THE WASH - NIGHT

Drained, Pete pulls himself out of the water and staggers to
his feet.

                    PETE
              (gasping)
          Oh my god!  I don't believe... oh
          my god...

He stumbles along backwards a couple of steps... and his heel
hits a rock...

Pete falls backward -- and his head strikes a glancing blow
on another rock.  He rolls down the bank, unconscious, and
lands face down in the mud.

                                            CUT TO BLACK.

IN BLACK, we slowly become aware of a panting, breathing
sound -- the sound of a dog...

FADE IN:

ON A DOG'S FACE

A yellow labrador, full frame.  It takes a couple more
sniffs, then starts licking furiously.

                    OLD MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
          Maggie, whatcha got there?  Huh,
          girl?  Whatcha find?

EXT.  FAR BANK OF THE WASH - DAWN

Pete is still laying face down on the bank, being fervently
licked in the face by the dog.

ON THE OLD MAN

A no-nonsense sort in his late-60s, he wears overalls and an
old railroad cap.  He comes down to Pete, and using his
walking stick, pokes him in the side.

                    OLD MAN
          Mister, who are ya?  my dog likes
          you, but that don't mean much, she
          likes skunks, too.  Sweet n'stupid,
          that's why I keep her.

Pete blinks up at the Old Man, his mouth gaping open.

                    OLD MAN
          Mister, you okay?  You look wet. 
          You in an accident or somethin'?

                    PETE
          I... I don't know.

He sits up, and the Old Man gets a look at his head, which is
caked with mud and blood on one side.

                    OLD MAN
          You best come with me.  Can ya
          walk?

                    PETE
          I... yes, I think so.

He stands up shakily.  The Old Man gives Pete a hand.

                    OLD MAN
          Come on, we'll have the Doc look
          you over.

                    PETE
          My head hurts.

                    OLD MAN
          I shouldn't be surprises.  You
          smell like that was quite a night
          before you had there.
              (to the dog)
          Maggie!  Let's go now!

And they head toward the road to town.  BOOMING UP, we SEE
them pass a roadside sign:

ON THE SIGN:

                         WELCOME TO
                     LAWSON, CALIFORNIA
                         EST. 1869
                   ELEV. 275    POP. 1755
                          THE TOWN
                     THAT GAVE ITS ALL

                    OLD MAN (STANTON)
          Name's Stanton Lawson.  My
          ancestors founded this town.

                    PETE
          Ancestors?

                    STANTON
          Actually, my grandpap.  But
          "ancestors" sounds better, don't
          it?
              (hands Pete a
               handkerchief)
          Here.

Pete takes the handkerchief and wipes the mud and some of the
blood off his face.

                    PETE
          I suppose.  Thanks.

                    STANTON
          You look familiar, fella.  What's
          your name?

Pete stops, thinks for a moment.

                    PETE
          I'm... I... I honestly don't know.

                                                  CUT TO:

EXT.  COMMERCE STREET - LAWSON, CALIFORNIA - DAY

Pete and Stanton walk along Commerce Street, the main drag
through the center of the small town.  Lawson is a bit run
down, creeping inexorably toward decrepit.  Despite that,
there's a timeless quality to the small buildings, a familiar
All-American feel.

Several of the PEOPLE walking along the street take notice of
Pete and nod to Stanton, who nods back.

                    PETE
          They all know you?

                    STANTON
          'Course they all know me.  And I
          know all them.  Town's got my name,
          don't it?

They pass the window of the drug store, COLE'S PHARMACY. 
Pete looks down and sees

TWO FADED GOLD STARS

in the window with two faded photos, all decked in tattered
black crepe.  Two boys, no more than 18 and 19, who went off
to war and didn't come back.

Stanton notes Pete stopping to look at the stars and photos.

                    STANTON
          Ernie Cole here just got himself
          elected mayor.  Lost both his boys
          in the war.  Kenny at Anzio and
          Willie at Normandy.

                    PETE
              (thinking)
          The war...

                    STANTON
              (points across the street)
          Mabel over there at the diner lost
          her husband Max.  Okinawa, I
          believe.

ANGLE - MABEL'S DINER

A typical small-town greasy spoon -- with one faded star
prominent in the window.

CLOSER

On MABEL LANIER, a sweet-faced woman in her 30s.  She stares
vacantly into space, her reverie broken by a customer needing
a coffee refill.

                    STANTON
          All told, this little town gave
          sixty-two of its finest to the war. 
          Seventeen of 'em at Normandy alone. 
          More'n its share, I should say. 
          Got us a letter from President
          Truman.  City council commissioned
          a war memorial.  Been sittin' in
          the basement of city hall these six
          years.  Town never had the heart to
          put it up.  Place just hasn't been
          the same since the war.

STANTON AND PETE

Pete looks longingly toward the diner.  Stanton takes note.

                    STANTON
          You hungry, son?

                    PETE
          Yes.  Very.

                    STANTON
          Got any money?

Pete rummages in his pants pockets, and comes up with three
quarters.

                    STANTON
          Six bits.  More'n enough to buy
          some breakfast.  C'mon.

And they head across the street.

                                                  CUT TO:

A PLATE WITH TWO PIECES OF APPLE PIE

A fork comes into frame and tears into one of the slices.

WIDER

INT.  MABEL'S DINER - DAY

Pete is fairly shoveling the pie into his mouth, pausing only
to wash it down with gulps of coffee.

MABEL

stands nearby, watching in amazement as her pie is consumed
in record time.

Pete notices that Stanton and Mabel -- and the other PATRONS,
for that matter -- are watching his feeding frenzy.  He stops
in his tracks, and starts chewing leisurely.  He smiles at
Mabel.

                    PETE
              (mouth full)
          Pie's... good.

                    MABEL
              (wryly)
          Like you could tell.
              (to Stanton)
          Where'd you find him?

                    STANTON
          Down by the wash.

                    MABEL
          We gotta put a rail on that thing
          before someone else gets killed.
              (to Pete)
          Three people have died there,
          Mister.  You're lucky to be alive.

                    PETE
              (draining the coffee cup)
          Thanks.  More coffee?

Mabel obliges.  As she pours the coffee, she looks at Pete.

                    MABEL
          You know, you look familiar.  You
          ever been in here before?

Pete shakes his head.

                    STANTON
          He don't remember who he is, Mabel. 
          Gonna take him to the Doc, as soon
          as he gets in.

                    MABEL
              (distractedly)
          Doc should be in for his coffee and
          bear claw any minute...
              (to Pete)
          You sure you never been in here?

Pete looks up at Mabel and smiles winningly.

                    PETE
          I'd remember this pie.

Mabel, thoroughly charmed, smiles back at Pete.

                    MABEL
              (patting his hand)
          I'll just get you another piece.

EXT.  COMMERCE STREET - DAY

A stoop-shouldered little man in his late 60s, HARRY TRUMBO
shambles along the street, headed for Mabel's Diner.  There's
a sadness about Harry, the world-weary melancholy of a man
who has little to smile about because he has little to care
about.  After a couple of steps, he's met up by DOC BEN
LARDNER, a vigorous man in his 50s.  He comes up behind Harry
and claps him on the back.

                    LARDNER
          'Mornin' Harry.  Fine day, isn't
          it?

                    HARRY
          Morning, Doc.  Yes, yes it looks
          just fine.

                    LARDNER
          Plenty to do today?

                    HARRY
              (vaguely)
          Oh, yes, plenty.  Plenty.

They're at the door of the diner.  Doc opens it for Harry.

                    LARDNER
          After you.

INT.  MABEL'S DINER - DAY

Lardner comes over to Mabel, who hands him a tall paper cup
of coffee and bags him a bear claw.

                    LARDNER
          Mornin' Mabel, Stan.

                    MABEL
          Mornin' Doc.  Got some new business
          for you today.

Lardner and Pete make eye contact, and the doctor notices the
bump on his head.

                    LARDNER
          Hello, son.  How'd that happen?

                    STANTON
          He don't know.  And he don't know
          his name, neither.  Found him down
          by the wash.

                    LARDNER
          You'd better come with me, son.
              (to Mabel, indicating the
               coffee and danish)
          On my tab?

                    MABEL
          You bet.

Lardner, Stanton and Pete rise and move to the door.  Pete
turns back, takes the three quarters out of his pocket, and
puts them on the counter, smiling brightly at Mabel.

                    PETE
          Thanks.  Great pie.

                    MABEL
              (blushing)
          You're welcome.  Come again.

ON HARRY

seated at the opposite end of the counter.  He glances up at
Pete.

HARRY'S POV

as Pete smiles at Mabel and turns to go.

ON HARRY

His mouth falls open, his hand moves to cover it.  He's just
seen a ghost...

HARRY'S POV - SLOW MOTION...

... as the three men pass by the diner's window.

CLOSE - HARRY

                    HARRY
              (wide eyed)
          Sweet Jesus...

                                                  CUT TO:

A FINGER --

moving left-to-right, right-to-left through space.

                    LARDNER'S VOICE
          Follow my finger.  Just use your
          eyes.  That's it.  Good.

WIDER

INT.  EXAMINATION ROOM - DAY

Doc Lardner is checking Pete's eyes.  Pete sits on an
examination table, his shirt off, his head freshly bandaged. 
Stanton lurks in the corner, Maggie curled at his feet.

                    STANTON
          He was passed out cold.  Maggie
          woke 'im.

                    LARDNER
          Uh-huh.  He looks familiar.
              (to Pete)
          Open your mouth.  Say "ah."

Pete does.  Lardner has a look as Stanton pulls out a pocket
watch.

                    STANTON
          Said as much myself, Doc.  Can't
          place him, though.  To look at him,
          you'd think the cheese slid off his
          cracker.
              (looks at his watch)
          Well, morning's half-over.  I'm
          off.

                    PETE
          Thank you, Mr. Lawson.

                    STANTON
          Don't mention it.  Whoever-you-are.

Stanton and Maggie exit.  Lardner checks Pete's ears.

                    LARDNER
          Any idea how you got here, son?

                    PETE
          No, sir.

Lardner sniffs him.

                    LARDNER
          Been drinkin' a bit, have we?

                    PETE
          I don't remember.  I guess so. 
          Smells like it.
              (smacks his lips and
               frowns)
          Tastes like it.

                    LARDNER
          Well, you've been wet to the skin. 
          You must've fallen in.

                    PETE
          I guess I did.

                    LARDNER
          Lucky you got out, that water's got
          quite a pull, and it empties
          straight into the ocean.

Lardner takes a shirt off his counter and hands it to Pete.

                    LARDNER
          Here, one of mine.

                    PETE
          Thanks.

Pete puts on the shirt.

                    LARDNER
          Do you remember if you were driving
          a car?  Maybe you went over the
          bridge.  No guard rail there, it's
          easy to do.  It's happened before.

                    PETE
          It's possible.  I just don't
          remember.

                    LARDNER
          And you don't know your name or who
          you are, that right?

                    PETE
              (frustrated)
          I... no, I... I just can't...

                    LARDNER
              (gently)
          It's okay, son.  We just need to
          call you something.  That's all.

Pete stifles a laugh.

                    LARDNER
          What is it?

                    PETE
          Call me... Ishmael?

                    LARDNER
          Well, at least you remember "Moby
          Dick."

                                                  CUT TO:

INT.  DOC LARDNER'S PRIVATE OFFICE - DAY

Lardner is on the phone, sipping his coffee and nibbling his
bear claw.  Pete is standing, nosing around the office --
diplomas, photographs, knick-knacks.  He zeros in on one
photo in particular.

ON THE PHOTO

one of Lardner and a beautiful YOUNG WOMAN.  They've been
fishing, and the young woman displays a much larger catch
than Lardner.

                    LARDNER
              (into phone)
          Stanton found him by the wash.  Not
          hurt too bad, but he took a nasty
          bump on the head and he can't
          remember who he is.  We both think
          he looks familiar, but we can't
          place him.  You bet.  He'll be
          here.

Lardner hangs up and watches Pete looking at the pictures.

                    LARDNER
          That's me and my daughter Adele. 
          My pride and joy.  Charms the fish
          right out of the lake, she does.

                    PETE
          She's very pretty.

                    LARDNER
          Thanks.  Well, Sheriff's on his way
          over, and maybe we can get to the
          bottom of who you are...

Lardner stares at him.  Pete takes note, turns toward him.

                    LARDNER
          ... sorry 'bout that, but you do
          look familiar to me.

                    PETE
          Wish I could say the same thing.

                                                  CUT TO:

EXT.  DOC LARDNER'S OFFICE - DAY

The Sheriff's sedan pulls up to the office and SHERIFF CECIL
ELDRIDGE, 45, gets out.  As he gets a few steps from the
door, Harry Trumbo jumps out from around the side of the
building and stops him.

                    HARRY
              (excited)
          Cecil!  Cecil, there's a young man
          in there...

                    ELDRIDGE
              (startled)
          Lord love a duck, Harry, you wanna
          give me a heart attack right in
          front of the doctor's office?

                    HARRY
          Listen to me!  The young man in
          there...

Eldridge keeps moving to the door.

                    ELDRIDGE
              (interrupting)
          Stan Lawson found him unconscious
          by the wash this morning, and I'm
          here to investigate, and if we find
          anything interesting, it'll be in
          the paper, so why don't you just...

Harry jumps in front of Eldridge and grabs him by the
shoulders.

                    HARRY
          Cecil, listen to me!

The sheriff stops.

                    HARRY
              (breathless)
          It's Luke.

                                                  CUT TO:

INT.  DOC LARDNER'S PRIVATE OFFICE - DAY

Sheriff Eldridge is seated across from Pete.  He's staring at
him intently.  Silence.

                    ELDRIDGE
          No wallet, huh?

                    LARDNER
          No identification at all.
              (beat)
          What're you thinkin', Cecil?

                    ELDRIDGE
          What I'm thinkin' is we got us one
          a'two things here.  A mystery or a
          damn miracle.  And by god I can't
          tell which.
              (to Pete)
          Boy, you say you have no idea who
          you are?  That right?

                    PETE
          Yes.

                    ELDRIDGE
          You ever been in this town before,
          to your knowledge?

                    PETE
          No.  But...

                    ELDRIDGE
          But what?

                    PETE
          Well, this place sorta reminds me
          of something.

                    ELDRIDGE
          What's that?

                    PETE
          "It's a Wonderful Life."

                    ELDRIDGE
          The Jimmy Stewart picture?  I
          remember that one.  Saw it over at
          the Bijou.  So, you remember that,
          huh?

                    PETE
          "It's a Wonderful Life?"

                    ELDRIDGE
          Or the Bijou.  Either one.

                    PETE
          I remember the picture... but I
          don't remember where I saw it.

The Sheriff rises and crosses to the door.

                    ELDRIDGE
          Doc, with your permission, I want
          to bring someone in here.  Maybe
          it'll jar this young man's memory.

                    LARDNER
          By all means.

Eldridge opens the door.

                    ELDRIDGE
              (to someone offscreen)
          Harry, why don't you come on in
          here.

Harry enters the office, doffs his hat, revealing a full head
of snow-white hair.  He nods to Eldridge and Lardner, and
slowly turns to face Pete.  He looks closer... and closer. 
Hesitantly, he takes a couple of steps towards Pete, who
slowly rises out of his chair to meet the old man's gaze. 
Finally, they're standing practically toe-to-toe.

PETE

looks a bit puzzled, but the old man has such a sweet face...

HARRY

has tears forming in his eyes.  A smile turns up the corners
of his mouth, and quickly lights up his whole face.

                    LARDNER
              (softly, to Eldridge)
          Are you saying that he's...

                    ELDRIDGE
              (smiling broadly)
          Shhhhhh.

Harry takes Pete in his arms and hugs him tightly, burying
his face in Pete's shoulder and sobbing.

                    HARRY
          I knew all along.  I knew you were
          alive!  Oh, Luke...

Pete doesn't quite know what to think.  He clearly has no
idea who this old man is.

                    LARDNER
              (mouth agape in disbelief)
          Mother o'god...

                    ELDRIDGE
              (to Pete)
          Give the man a hug, boy!  That's
          your father!

Pete looks at Harry.  It's not so much that he remembers
anything -- he's swept up in the moment.

                    PETE
          My father...?

Pete wraps his arms around Harry and hugs him tightly,
glancing over at

ELDRIDGE AND LARDNER

who look on goofily, fighting back tears.  They smile at
Pete, who smiles back tentatively.

                                                  CUT TO:

EXT.  DOC LARDNER'S OFFICE - DAY

Harry, Pete, Eldridge and Lardner come outside.

                    ELDRIDGE
          C'mon, I'll give you two a lift
          back to the Bijou.

                    PETE
          The Bijou?

                    LARDNER
          That's where you live.

                    PETE
          We live in a theater?

                    HARRY
          Only one in town.
              (he opens the car door for
               Pete)
          Get in, son.

                    ELDRIDGE
              (sotto, to Lardner)
          Ben, when's Delly due back?

                    LARDNER
              (sotto)
          Tomorrow afternoon...
              (seized by a thought)
          ... oh my god...

                    ELDRIDGE
              (sotto)
          Exactly.  Break it to her gently.

Eldridge and Harry get in the car.  Lardner comes over to
Pete's back seat window.

                    LARDNER
          Get plenty of rest, Luke.  You took
          a pretty big wallop there.

He turns to move away, then turns back.

                    LARDNER
          Good to have you back.

Eldridge starts the car and they drive away.

(NOTE: Henceforth, "PETE" will be known as "LUKE."  It'll be
easier to keep track of things, since everyone's now calling
him Luke, anyway.  Trust me.)

                                                  CUT TO:

INT.  ELDRIDGE'S CAR (DRIVING) - DAY

Harry sits next to the Sheriff, and Luke has the back seat
all to himself.  He leans forward toward the front seat and
taps Harry on the shoulder.

                    LUKE
          Excuse me... what's your, um, your
          name?

                    HARRY
          Harry, son.  Harry.

                    LUKE
          And... what's my name again?

                    HARRY
          Albert Lucas Trumbo.  But you've
          been "Luke" since you were a baby.

                    LUKE
          Ah.
              (taking it for a spin)
          Luke.  Luke.  I like it.

Luke looks at the town as they drive down Commerce Street.

HIS POV

Shops are open for business, TOWNSPEOPLE are going about
their lives.  A few stop and watch as the Sheriff's car goes
by.

                    LUKE
          How long have I been gone?

Eldridge looks at Harry, who stares ahead.

                    LUKE
          How long?

Pause.  The silence is too thick, and Harry has to answer. 
He turns around in his seat and faces Luke.

                    HARRY
              (gently)
          You never came back from the war. 
          We were told you were missing and
          presumed dead.

                    LUKE
          When did I leave?

                    HARRY
          You joined up one month to the day
          after Pearl Harbor.  January
          seventh... nineteen forty-two.

Luke sits back against the back seat and lets this sink in.

                    HARRY
          Nine and-a-half years ago.

                    LUKE
          Nine and-a-half years...

                    ELDRIDGE
          Comin' up on the Bijou, gents.

EXT.  IN FRONT OF THE BIJOU - DAY

Eldridge's car rounds the corner, pulls up and stops.

                    ELDRIDGE
          Here we are.

                    HARRY
          Well, son, you're home!

Luke peers across the street... his mouth gapes open...

HIS POV - THE BIJOU.

The Bijou is a decaying, Dada-esque, grab-bag of building
styles.  It's as though the architect took random parts of a
Chinese temple, a Mosque, a Pagoda, a Sphinx, a symphony hall
and a slaughterhouse, put them in a bag, gave it a good
shake, tossed the contents out onto a blueprint and promptly
built the result.

As a matter of fact, if you didn't know that the place was
"The Bijou," you'd probably wonder what the cryptic message

                        " HE B J U"

was trying to convey from atop the crumbling parapet.

And now, the reason for the deteriorated state of the " HE B
J U" sign becomes apparent.  Train tracks run right behind
the building on an elevated trestle.  As we watch, a TRAIN
ROARS BY.  Everything shakes.  It's not an earthquake, it's a
trainquake.  The "J" teeters at a jaunty angle, threatening
to dislodge and tumble down to join its fallen brothers.

LUKE

stares at the monstrosity.  His face is ashen.  His heart has
sunk to somewhere below his knees.

The Bijou.

Harry jumps out of the car excitedly.

                    HARRY
          Thanks for the lift, Cecil.

                    ELDRIDGE
          Don't mention it.  Welcome home,
          Luke.

                    LUKE
              (faint smile)
          Thanks.

Luke opens the back door and slowly steps out.  Harry grabs
his arm and pulls a ring of keys from his pocket.

                    HARRY
          Wait'll you see the inside!

                    LUKE
              (deadpan)
          Can't wait.

                                                  CUT TO:

INT.  BIJOU LOBBY - DAY

The interior of the theater fulfills every promise made by
the exterior.  Moth-eaten velvet-flocked wallpaper hangs in
shards and pieces from the walls.  It's sort of a cross
between a gaudy cathouse and a mausoleum, served up with
generous helpings of dust and grime, an almost unbeatable
combination of questionable taste and neglect.

Above the center of the lobby hangs what was -- and is --
probably the only truly beautiful item in the whole
theater --

A DELICATE CRYSTAL CHANDELIER.

Even under a veneer of dust, the fragile droplets of cut
crystal seem to pick up every available point of light and
scatter it in a hundred directions.

TILT DOWN TO REVEAL

Luke and Harry standing below.  Luke is lost in a gulf
somewhere between surprise and disgust.

                    HARRY
          We've been closed for a while.

                    LUKE
              (smiling wanly)
          Ah.

Luke walks toward the auditorium doors and slowly, cracks one
open.

INT.  AUDITORIUM - DAY

The ocean of two hundred or so seats on the main floor seem
to be, for the most part, intact -- although the occasional
row seems to have loosed itself from its moorings and heaved
itself up against the row behind or in front.

THE SCREEN

is really not much more than a tatty bit of yellowing muslin,
framed by ragged red velveteen drapery.

In the tiny orchestra pit, as we will see later, is an old
upright piano.

Luke walks a few steps down the aisle.  He picks a seat on
the aisle near the middle of the theater and sits.  As he
does, a CAT, an orange tabby, leaps out from under another
seat, jets past Luke and disappears down the aisle and
backstage.  Harry comes over and sits behind him.

                    LUKE
              (turning to Harry)
          Exactly how long has the Bijou been
          closed?

                    HARRY
          Hmmmm... after you left, it was
          difficult, and then Lily -- that's
          your mother -- she took ill and
          died... we haven't shown a picture
          since forty-eight.

                    LUKE
          Why?

                    HARRY
              (deep breath)
          Well, after the war, with so many
          of the town's boys killed, people
          around here didn't much feel like
          going to the movies, I guess.  Some
          of 'em moved away -- Los Angeles,
          Sacramento, San Francisco.  Wasn't
          much to keep 'em here, I expect. 
          And now with this "television"
          thing -- people just aren't going
          out as much as they used to.

                    LUKE
          Didn't you have any help?

                    HARRY
          Oh, I had Irene and Old Tim but
          they really couldn't help much. 
          Broke their hearts when we closed
          up.  Broke mine, too.
              (brightening)
          But now that you're back, well,
          things will be different around
          here, that's for sure.
              (rises, grabs Luke's arm)
          C'mon, I'll show you where we live.

                                                  CUT TO:

INT.  BIJOU APARTMENT - DAY

The small apartment above the projection booth is quite a
contrast to the rest of the theater.  It's neat as a pin, and
fairly lit, as Harry has just pulled back the curtains,
allowing the sun to flood the room.

A beam of golden light falls across a table, atop which are

SEVERAL FRAMED PHOTOS.

One of the photos is of the real, much-younger Luke.  It's a
Norman Rockwell scene, at a train depot, with an army-issue
olive drab duffel bag slung over his shoulder.  He has one
arm around Harry and the other around his mother.

(And by the way, Pete's resemblance to the real Luke -- even
in a nearly 10 year old photo -- is pretty damn startling...)

                    HARRY
          The day you shipped out.  That was
          a proud day for your mother and me. 
          Last time you saw her.  Last time I
          saw you.

He smiles.

                    HARRY
          Till today.

Luke sets it down and picks up another photo, that of a fine
looking woman.  It's a formal portrait, dating perhaps from
the 30's.

                    HARRY
          That's Lily.  Your mother, rest her
          soul.

                    LUKE
              (repeating)
          Mother.
              (to Harry)
          She's beautiful.

                    HARRY
              (coming over)
          Well, yes, that she was.  She
          certainly made this place a home.

He takes the picture from Luke, kisses it, and gently
replaces it on the table.  Luke goes over to the sofa and
sits.

                    HARRY
              (brightly)
          Can I get you anything?  I can put
          some coffee on or some...

Harry looks at Luke, who has almost instantly fallen asleep
on the sofa.

He goes to him, gently picks his feet off the floor, lifts
them onto the sofa.  Removes his shoes, sets them on the
floor.

                                                  CUT TO:

A BLANKET

being drawn up Luke's chest.

HARRY

stands, looks down warmly at his son.  Then, suddenly, he's
seized by a thought.  He turns and crosses to the window.

CLOSE - THE WINDOW

There's a small picture frame in the window.  Harry reaches
down, gingerly picks it up and turns it around.

ON THE FRAME

It's a single, faded gold star.  One war casualty.

Harry clutches it to his chest, looks over at the sleeping
Luke and smiles.

                    HARRY
              (softly)
          When I woke up this morning, my son
          was dead.  Now, I have my boy
          again.
              (closes his eyes)
          I have my boy again.

                                           FADE TO BLACK.

FADE IN:

INT.  BIJOU APARTMENT - MORNING

It's early morning.  Luke is sound asleep, still in his
clothes.  In the distance, a train sounds its HORN.

Luke rolls over on his back, still asleep, snoring lightly. 
Slowly, he starts to wake up, eyes still closed.

Something's strange, though.  He frowns.  The train is
GETTING CLOSER.  Luke's eyes POP OPEN.

LUKE'S POV

As the train RUMBLES BY, shaking everything in the room, Luke
looks up to see three ancient cherubs staring down at him. 
Harry, an elderly WOMAN, and an elderly BLACK MAN.

                    HARRY
              (smiling)
          'Morning, Son.

                    ELDERLY WOMAN
              (smiling)
          Good morning, Luke.

                    ELDERLY BLACK MAN
              (no expression)
          'Mornin'.

                    HARRY
          Sleep well?

Luke is speechless.  It he dreaming this?

                    HARRY
          They couldn't wait to see you.

                    LUKE
          Who... are they?

                    HARRY
          This is the staff of the Bijou.

                    LUKE
          Oh.  What... what time is it?

                    HARRY
          Six-thirty.  I thought we'd get an
          early start.

Luke sits up on the sofa and tries to get a little more
awake.  He rubs the side of his head that is still bandaged. 
The elderly woman nudges Harry gently.

                    HARRY
          Oh, I'm sorry, they know you, but
          you don't... you need to be re-
          introduced.  Luke, this is Mrs.
          Irene Terwilliger.

Luke stands and shakes MRS. TERWILLIGER'S hand.  She's tiny,
seventy if she's a day.  She smiles and curtsies slightly. 
Her eyes sparkle brightly, her manner almost coquettish.

                    MRS. TERWILLIGER
          Head cashier and refreshments
          clerk.  So glad to have you back,
          my boy!
              (to Harry)
          Much more handsome than I remember
          him.

                    HARRY
          And this fine fellow is our head
          usher, resident fix-it man and
          custodian.  Luke, meet Old Tim.
              (to Old Tim)
          You remember Luke, don't you?

OLT TIM is -- well, old.  His clothes are a tad shabby, but
well maintained, though they hang loosely on his gangly
frame.  He wears an old blue knit cap, which he quickly
removes as he shakes Luke's hand.  He's a man of few words,
his manner is painfully shy -- and he never smiles.

                    LUKE
          Is there a young Tim?

                    OLD TIM
          No.

                    LUKE
          Well, then, why do they call you
          "Old Tim?"

Pause.

                    OLD TIM
          I'm old.

Harry steps forward, takes Luke's arm.

                    HARRY
          Well, lots to do, so we'd better
          get a move on...

                                                  CUT TO:

INT.  AUDITORIUM - DAY

Luke, Harry and Mrs. Terwilliger walk down the aisle toward
the screen.  Old Time lags a few steps behind.  At the
orchestra pit, Harry climbs the steps, crosses the pit.  The
screen is a sea of repair patches.  Harry pats it.  Dust
flies.

                    HARRY
          'Fraid this has seen better days. 
          Well, I was meaning to get a new
          screen, anyway.

                    OLD TIM
          I n-need me a new uniform.

Luke looks at Old Tim, then at Harry.

                    HARRY
              (to Luke)
          I promised him a new uniform when
          we re-opened.
              (to Old Tim)
          And you'll get one, too.

                    LUKE
          You know, I hate to bring this up,
          but screens and uniforms and paint
          and repairs are going to take
          money, which I'm willing to bet
          none of us has.

Silence from the group.

                    LUKE
          I thought so.

Beat.  Harry brightens, clambers down the steps and races up
the aisle.

                    HARRY
          Anyone want to see the projector?

                                                  CUT TO:

TWO CARBON ARCS

are squeakily being cranked together above the din of a fan
motor.  A puff of smoke, then -- BZZZZZZZZZTT -- LIGHT.  A
metal door is closed over the arcs.

INT.  PROJECTION BOOTH - DAY

Harry dances around to the other side of the projector and
adjusts the focus on the beam of light.  The others look on
as he gazes at the screen through the tiny window.

                    HARRY
          Beautiful.  Bright and even from
          edge to edge.  See for yourself.

The carbons sputter and die.  The light flickers out.  Harry
is crestfallen, turns off the motor.

                    HARRY
          She's always been a bit tricky.

                                                  CUT TO:

INT.  BIJOU LOBBY - DAY

Mrs. Terwilliger is dusting the concession stand with a
ragged feather duster, a hopeless task.  Old Tim is on a
rickety ladder, replacing burned-out bulbs in the chandelier. 
The orange tabby cat scratches itself on the leg of the
ladder.

Old Tim climbs down and catches his breath.  Mrs. Terwilliger
sneezes.

                    OLD TIM
          Bless.

                    MRS. TERWILLIGER
          Thank you, Timothy.

They both stop their work and glance warily at the door
marked "OFFICE."

                    MRS. TERWILLIGER
              (sotto)
          What do you suppose they're talking
          about?

                    OLD TIM
          Dunno.  Boy's smart.

                    MRS. TERWILLIGER
              (brightly)
          Yes, he seems to be.

                    OLD TIM
          Bad for us.

INT.  BIJOU OFFICE - DAY

Luke is poring over the ledger books, adding up figures on an
old manual adding machine.

                    LUKE
          Um... Harry?  Did I ever keep the
          books here?

                    HARRY
          No, your mother did, then I did
          after she passed.

                    LUKE
          Well, I'm the first one to admit
          that I don't know anything about
          bookkeeping, but there are some
          very interesting things in here.

He scans down a page.

                    LUKE
              (reading)
          "February 10, 1942.  Picture 'Ball
          of Fire.'"

                    HARRY
              (appreciatively)
          Gary Cooper.  And Barbara Stanwyck. 
          Yowsa.

                    LUKE
              (reading)
          "Eight p.m. showtime, ninety-six
          admissions, receipts including
          concessions, $84.75... plus one
          fryer and two-dozen eggs."

He closes the book and looks expectantly at Harry.

                    HARRY
          Yes?

                    LUKE
          "one fryer and two-dozen eggs?"

                    HARRY
          Forty-two was a lean year around
          here.  The war had just started...
          you were gone less than a month...
          and we were coming off a bit of a
          drought as I recall.  Not everyone
          could ante up the price of a
          ticket, and a chicken's as good as
          money if you ask me.  At that time,
          it meant a lot to the folks around
          here to be able to come to the
          pictures.

                    LUKE
          Yeah, I know, but poultry...?

                    HARRY
              (rhapsodically)
          I know it's hard to believe, son,
          but this place, this little place
          this wasn't a theater then, this
          was a palace!  Any man, woman,
          child, you, me, it didn't matter,
          you bought your ticket and you
          walked in and you...

Harry puts his hand on his chest and sighs.

                    HARRY
          ... you were in a palace.  It was
          like a dream.  It was like heaven,
          like you died and went to a palace
          in heaven, that's what it was like. 
          And spotless, too.

Inspired, Harry stands, takes Luke by the arm.

                    HARRY
          Come with me!

He drags him out of the office and into the lobby.

INT.  BIJOU LOBBY - DAY

Mrs. Terwilliger and Old Tim watch as Harry leads Luke
through the lobby.

                    HARRY
              (smiling)
          Maybe you had problems and worries
          out there, but once you came
          through that door, they didn't
          matter anymore.  In here, you were
          safe.  Maybe it was just an escape
          from reality, but... oh, god... it
          was beautiful.

Harry leads Luke into the auditorium.  The car follows, but
Mrs. Terwilliger and Old Tim stay behind.

INT.  AUDITORIUM - DAY

Harry trots down the aisle and looks up at the screen.

                    HARRY
              (exuberant)
          Charlie Chaplin.  Keaton and Lloyd. 
          Swanson.  And later on, Clark Gable
          and Claudette Colbert and Jimmy
          Stewart and James Cagney and Bogart
          and Becall and Judy and Mickey...
          and Fred and Ginger.

He turns to Luke.

                    HARRY
              (emphatically)
          They... were... like... gods!

He points to the screen.

                    HARRY
          And that... was the altar.  Would
          you remember if I told you, we felt
          lucky to be here, to have the
          privilege of watching them?
              (sadly)
          This television thing.  Why would
          you want to sit at home and watch a
          little box with a little screen? 
          Because it's convenient?  Because
          you don't have to get dressed and
          put on a coat and a tie and a hat? 
          Because you can just... sit there? 
          How can you call that
          "entertainment," all alone in your
          living room?  Where are the other
          people?  Where's the audience?

Harry comes over to Luke.

                    HARRY
              (emphatically)
          Where's the magic?

He stands behind Luke and whispers in his ear.

                    HARRY
          I'll tell you.  In a place like
          this, the magic is all around you. 
          All the time.  Everywhere.  In
          every thing.

He turns Luke around and looks him in the eye.

                    HARRY
          The trick... is to see it.

Pause.

                    LUKE
          But I...

                    HARRY
          Son, I think you loved the Bijou
          even more than I did.  You've got
          to remember that.  You've got to.

Still looking at Luke, Harry takes a step back, then slowly
walks up the aisle, disappearing into the lobby.

Luke walks down the aisle.  At the edge of the orchestra pit,
he stands looking up at the screen.  The orange tabby cat
MEOWS, and Luke glances toward it, standing onstage by the
edge of the screen.  They exchange looks as we

                                             DISSOLVE TO:

INT.  LARDNER LIVING ROOM - EVENING

Doc Lardner is seated in an easy chair, his feet up, reading
Life magazine.  The radio is on, and Patti Page is singing
"The Tennessee Waltz."

There's a noise offscreen, and Lardner looks up.  In the
entrance hall, the front door opens.

ADELE "DELLY" LARDNER

enters.  She's a strikingly beautiful woman in her late 20s. 
She takes off a felt cap, and her long, auburn hair cascades
down.

                    ADELE
          Dad?

                    LARDNER
          Delly?  In here.

Lardner rises as Adele comes into the living room.  They
embrace warmly.

                    LARDNER
          How'd it go?

                    ADELE
          Not as bad as I thought it would. 
          I think I passed.

                    LARDNER
              (kisses her forehead)
          That's my girl!
              (he hugs her again)
          Did you...?

                    ADELE
          No hiccups, which was good.  Who
          wants an attorney who gets the
          hiccups when she gets nervous?
              ("serious" lawyer voice)
          "Your (hic!) honor, I (hic!)
          object!"

They laugh.

                    LARDNER
          I always told you, baby...
              (taps her head)
          ... it's all up here.

Lardner gives her an extra squeeze, continues to hold onto
her just a bit too long.  Adele detects something amiss.

                    ADELE
          Dad?  What is it?

Beat.

                    LARDNER
          Well, it's...

Adele breaks away from him.

                    ADELE
              (extreme concern)
          Oh my god... who died?

                                                  CUT TO:

A GLASS OF WATER

on a kitchen table.  Offscreen, we HEAR A HICCUP.  Then
another.  Adele's hand reaches into frame.

WIDER

INT.  LARDNER KITCHEN - EVENING

Lardner stands over Adele, who is seated at the table,
holding the glass of water.

                    LARDNER
          Drink slowly.

She raises the glass to her lips.

                    LARDNER
          From the other side of the glass.

It's a particularly gymnastic way in which to drink water,
but Adele accomplishes it with aplomb.  She waits for a
moment -- then hiccups again.

                    ADELE
          I think (hic!) it's worse (hic!)
          now.

                    LARDNER
          That always used to work.

                    ADELE
          Yeah, well it's not everyday you
          get (hic!) news like this.  You're
          sure he's (hic!) okay?  Other than
          the (hic!) bump on the head?

                    LARDNER
              (hedging)
          Well...

                    ADELE
          (hic!) Dad... (hic!)

Lardner sits at the table and takes Adele's hand.

                    LARDNER
          He doesn't remember anything,
          Delly.  Doesn't know how he got
          here, doesn't remember his father,
          the town, the Bijou, anyone...

                    ADELE
          ... including me.  Right?  (hic!)

                    LARDNER
          I'm afraid not.  He looked right at
          your picture without batting an
          eye.  But it's probably temporary. 
          He got all the way to Lawson, so he
          clearly knew who he was and what he
          was doing until he hit his head. 
          I'm sure it'll all come back to
          him.  It just takes a catalyst.

                    ADELE
          You mean, (hic!) me?

                    LARDNER
          It's possible.

Off Adele's thoughtful hiccuping, we

                                                  CUT TO:

EXT.  COMMERCE STREET - EVENING

Luke and Harry, walking along, make a turn onto Commerce
Street, heading for Mabel's.  It's still light out, and a
soft breeze skitters some leaves along the sidewalk.

                    HARRY
          I take breakfast and supper at
          Mabel's every day except Sunday. 
          Have for years, since Lily died. 
          If it weren't for Mabel, I'd
          probably starve to death.

ERNIE COLE, a slight, balding man in his 50s, is locking the
door of his pharmacy across the street, when he spots Harry
and Luke.

                    ERNIE
          Harry!  Hold on a second!

Ernie runs across the street and, slightly winded, stands
before Luke, staring.  Luke shoots a glance at Harry, who
taps Ernie on the shoulder.

                    HARRY
          It's really him, Ernie.

                    ERNIE
              (agape)
          Well, I'll be...

He sticks his hand out and Luke takes it.  Ernie pumps it
enthusiastically.

                    ERNIE
          By god, Luke, if it isn't good to
          see you again.

                    LUKE
              (uncertain)
          Uh, thanks.  Good to see you again,
          too, uh...

                    HARRY
          Ernie.

                    LUKE
          ... Ernie.

                    ERNIE
              (still at a lose)
          Well, I'll be...

                    HARRY
          We were just gonna get some supper. 
          Would you like to join us?

                    ERNIE
          Would I ever!

The three walk toward the diner, but before they get two
steps, they hear:

                    WOMAN'S VOICE
          Is that Luke Trumbo?

They turn to see a stout woman, KATIE RUTHERFORD, 40s,
rushing toward them.  She rushes right into a very surprised
Luke's arms and hugs him tightly.

                    KATIE
          Oh, Luke, it's so good to have you
          back!

                    HARRY
          Katie, would you like to join us
          for dinner?  The more, the merrier.

                                                  CUT TO:

EXT.  MABEL'S DINER - NIGHT

The diner is packed.  In addition to Ernie and Katie, MEN,
WOMEN and CHILDREN occupy every seat and table, and many more
are standing, even hanging out the door.

At the focus of the crowd are Luke and Harry, seated at the
counter.  Harry is leisurely eating a chicken dinner, while
Luke is working on a steak.  A young man seated at the
opposite side of the counter is speaking.  He's CARL LEFFERT,
30s.

                    CARL
              (eagerly)
          Hey, Luke, remember the time you
          and me, we was playing with
          firecrackers and the one you was
          lighting blew up too soon and
          singed all the hair offa my head?

A few people shake their heads, smile and laugh.

                    LUKE
          Uh, no.  What happened?

                    CARL
              (deflated)
          Well... um, all the hair got singed
          offa my head.  It was pretty funny.

A couple of TITTERS are heard.

                    LUKE
          Oh.

                    CARL
          Even my eyebrows.  But they grew
          back.

Luke leans toward Harry, who never looks up from his chicken.

                    HARRY
          Carl.  Friend of yours from high
          school.  Everybody calls him
          "Cueball."

                    LUKE
              (sincerely)
          Oh, hi Cue... Carl.  Sorry.

                    CARL
              (brightening)
          Oh, heck, that's all right.  It's
          just good to have you back.  Isn't
          that right, Bob?  Hey, Luke, you
          remember my brother Bob?  You two
          joined up the same day.

Luke smiles and nods at the young man sitting next to Carl.

BOB LEFFERT

is a good-looking fellow, a few years older than Carl.  His
face is pale and downcast, and he wears a cap pulled down on
his forehead.  He looks up at Luke with hollow eyes.  Brings
his right hand up, pushes the brim of his cap up.  Except
there's no hand there -- it's a hook.

                    LUKE
              (quietly)
          Hey, Bob.  Good to meet you.

Bob doesn't react.  He glances away, and for a moment, his
eyes meet Mabel's.  She smiles warmly.  He turns away.

Ernie Cole pipes up.

                    ERNIE
          Luke, I know there's a question
          that's on everybody's mind.

                    LUKE
          What's that?

                    ERNIE
          Well, now that you're back, what're
          your plans?

All eyes on Luke.  He freezes, having just taken a forkful of
food in his mouth.  Harry jumps in.

                    HARRY
          Gonna re-open the Bijou, that's
          what.

A MURMUR goes through the crowd.  Stanton Lawson, standing
behind Luke, taps him on the shoulder.

                    STANTON
          That true?

                    LUKE
              (on the spot)
          Well... we're gonna try.

                    ERNIE
          That's a lot of work, son.  Place's
          been closed, what, three, four
          years now.  Gonna be tough.

                    HARRY
          If it's tough, that means it's
          worth doing.

Someone shouts "That's the spirit!," another shouts "Hear,
hear!," and a chorus of VOICES join in agreement.

                    ERNIE
          Hey, where's Spencer Wyatt?

                    SPENCER'S VOICE
          Uh, back here, Mr. Mayor.

                    ERNIE
          Well, come on out here so's we can
          see you.

SPENCER WYATT steps around from the back of the crowd near
the door.  He's a tall, dark-haired, gangly, bespectacled
kid, no more than 19 or 20.  Painfully shy, he clutches a
clarinet case to his chest.  He timidly smiles and waves at
Luke, who smiles and nods back.

                    SPENCER
          Hey, Luke.

                    LUKE
          Hi, Spencer.

                    ERNIE
          Spence, that band of yours -- you
          think they're ready to play?
              (to Luke)
          Spencer and his pals went ahead and
          got together a good ol' big band.

                    SPENCER
          We've been practicing... uh, sure,
          I guess.

                    ERNIE
          Well, how about tomorrow night,
          eight p.m., in city hall square? 
          What I'm proposin' is a "Welcome
          Home Luke" celebration.

Vociferous general AGREEMENT from the crowd -- which is
quickly quieted by a MURMUR, which starts at the front door. 
The crowd parts and grow silent, revealing a woman standing
in the doorway.

ADELE

She locks eyes with Luke.  Her hand goes to her mouth and her
eyes well up.  Slowly, she moves around the counter, the
crowd moving aside for her.

She stands in front of Luke, who has stood up to meet her. 
Her eyes moist, she looks up at him.

                    ADELE
          Do you... remember me?

                    LUKE
          I've seen you before.  Your
          picture...

Mabel, clutching a napkin, leans over to Katie.

                    MABEL
              (sotto)
          Look!

                    LUKE
          ... but I don't think I remember
          you.

Adele leans up and kisses him softly.  He looks at her.

                    LUKE
          But I'll sure try.

As Mabel and Katie dab at their eyes, we

                                                  CUT TO:

EXT.  COMMERCE STREET - NIGHT

Adele and Luke stroll down the street side by side.  She
looks at him for a long moment.

                    LUKE
          What.

                    ADELE
          No, I... I just wondering where
          you've been all this time.

                    LUKE
          Me too.

                    ADELE
          You look... different.

                    LUKE
          I do?

                    ADELE
          Yeah, a little.  I think you grew
          an inch or so.  And you've lost
          weight.

                    LUKE
          I did?  Huh!

Tentatively, she takes his hand and holds it.  From behind
them, we HEAR A SHUFFLING SOUND.  Adele turns...

ADELE'S POV

Keeping a discreet distance, EVERYONE from the diner is
following them.  Adele turns and addresses the crowd.

                    ADELE
              (to the group)
          You can all go home, now.  He's not
          going anywhere.

                    LUKE
          Go on home, folks.  And thanks for
          the welcome.

Harry comes over.

                    LUKE
          I'll be home in a little while,
          Harry.  Don't wait up.

                    HARRY
          You two have a lot of catching up
          to do, I guess.

                    LUKE
          You bet.

                    HARRY
          Goodnight, son.
              (tips his hat)
          'Night, Delly.

And the rest of the crowd disperses, variously wishing the
pair goodnight.  Luke and Adele watch them disperse.

                    LUKE
          There.  We're alone.

They turn and start walking.

                    ADELE
          Then why do I feel like we're still
          being shadowed?

                    LUKE
          Well... where can we go?

Adele brightens.

                    ADELE
          I know a place.  Come on!

She grabs his hand and they run toward the town square.

EXT.  LAWSON CITY HALL - NIGHT

Adele and Luke stand by the front steps.

                    LUKE
          City hall?

                    ADELE
          You must not remember anything. 
          Come on.

She grabs his hand and they run to the side of the building.

EXT.  SIDE OF CITY HALL - NIGHT

Adele and Luke stand by a basement window, inches off the
ground.  She looks around.  Certain the coast is clear, she
pounds on the window in three "special" places, and it pops
up and open.  She looks at Luke.

                    ADELE
          You first.

                    LUKE
          Why me?

                    ADELE
          Be a gentleman.  You have to help
          me down.

AS LUKE CLIMBS IN, WE

                                                  CUT TO:

A LARGE, MUSLIN-COVERED OBJECT.

Slowly, the muslin is drawn off, revealing A STATUE OF A
KNEELING SOLIDER, praying before a soldier's grave.  We
slowly PAN DOWN from the top of the statue... 

INT.  CITY HALL BASEMENT STORAGE ROOM - NIGHT

                    ADELE (O.S.)
          When we were kids, my Dad was
          mayor, and you and me and a bunch
          of others used to come down here
          all the time.

ON ADELE AND LUKE

looking up at the statue in this city hall basement storage
room, lit only by a single shaft of moonlight from the
window.  The muslin covering lay bunched at their feet.

                    ADELE
          Of course, there was a lot more
          room before they stuck the memorial
          down here.

                    LUKE
              (looks at the door)
          How'd they get it inside?

                    ADELE
          Through the door.  It comes apart.

She moves to the memorial.  Squinting, she examines its base.

                    ADELE
          Your name's on here.  See?

Luke comes over.

ON THE BASE OF THE MEMORIAL -- LUKE'S NAME

                    ADELE
          Right here.  "Albert Lucas Trumbo." 
          And all the others.  I knew them
          all.  So did you.  We went to
          school with most of them.

                    LUKE
          It doesn't seem right, this being
          down here.  It ought to be where
          people can see it.

                    ADELE
          After they commissioned it, no one
          could ever agree on where to put
          it.  The Methodists wanted it in
          front of the Methodist Church, the
          Presbyterians wanted it in front of
          the Presbyterian Church, the city
          council wanted it in the lobby of
          City Hall.  Everyone finally got
          tired of the fighting.  So they
          stuck it down here.

He looks at her for a long moment.  There's an electricity
between them, and they both feel it.

                    LUKE
          So, you're really gonna be a
          lawyer?

                    ADELE
              (suddenly defensive)
          And why not?

                    LUKE
          Whoa.

                    ADELE
              (smiling)
          Sorry.  You don't know how many
          times I've heard that.  "A lady
          lawyer?  Are you crazy?"  Like a
          woman couldn't be as good a lawyer
          as a man.  Or better, in fact.

                    LUKE
          Have you always wanted to be a
          lawyer?

                    ADELE
          You... don't remember, but yes,
          ever since I was a little girl.

                    LUKE
          What did... what did I want to be?

                    ADELE
              (gently)
          Oh, well... I guess you... in high
          school, you were a pretty good
          first baseman.  And we were on the
          debate team together.  But... I
          think you were gonna run the Bijou. 
          You were brought up there, and you
          loved it so much.  And I think you
          knew how much the town needed a
          place like that.

He turns away, rubs his head.

                    LUKE
          I just wish I could remember some
          of this.

He turns back to her.

                    LUKE
          You don't have a boyfriend or
          anyone... you know... like that?

                    ADELE
          Actually, I was married.  For four
          years.  But... well, we didn't fit
          together.  I'm divorced now.

                    LUKE
          I'm sorry.

                    ADELE
          No, it's okay.  See, when two
          people belong together, the other
          person should be the... the key
          that unlocks the rest of you... I'm
          not making sense, am I?

                    LUKE
              (moving toward her)
          No, you are.  I know exactly what
          you mean.  It's not that you're
          missing something.  It's that the
          other person gives something to
          you... that you had all the time. 
          You just didn't see it until they
          came along.

                    ADELE
              (smiling)
          Yeah...

Pause.

                    LUKE
          We were in love... weren't we?

                    ADELE
              (quietly)
          Yes.
              (then:)
          Hic!

She instantly covers her mouth, but it's no good.  She has
the hiccups again.

                    LUKE
          What was that?

                    ADELE
          Nothing.  (hic!)

                    LUKE
          Do you have the...

                    ADELE
          I'm (hic!) fine.  Really.  (hic!)

Luke smiles and watches Adele as she makes the decision to
not struggle against the hiccups.  She has them, and that's
just the way it is.

                    LUKE
          Were we going to get married?

                    ADELE
          Eventually.  We were going to be
          (hic!) engaged... when you came
          back from (hic!) overseas...

He looks at her.  She's strikingly beautiful at this
particular moment and in this particular light -- hiccups and
all.  He moves closer to her.  She moves closer to him.

                    ADELE
              (breathless)
          ... but you had to go... serve
          (hic!) your country...

They kiss passionately.  She reaches up and puts her arms
around him.  He starts kissing her neck, and she suddenly
realizes -- she's stopped hiccuping.

                    ADELE
          Hey... it worked.

And as she smiles and kisses him again we

                                             DISSOLVE TO:

EXT.  THE BIJOU - NIGHT

Luke comes down the street and heads for the front door.  He
has a definite spring in his step as he pulls out his keys
and enters.

INT.  BIJOU LOBBY - NIGHT

It's very dark.  Luke is about to swing shut the heavy door,
when he looks down and sees

THE ORANGE TABBY CAT

shoot into the lobby, stopping in the middle of the floor. 
It looks at Luke, and PURRS.

Luke closes the door and moves to the cat.  He crouches down
and pets it, and its back rises to meet his hand.

                    LUKE
          Hey, fella.  So you live here, too,
          huh?  How come Harry didn't mention
          that?

The cat moves to the auditorium door, pausing to look back at
Luke.  Curiosity piqued, Luke follows the cat.

INT.  BIJOU BASEMENT HALLWAY - NIGHT

In the dim light, we SEE an old mop and pail, some dirty film
cans, and a large beat-up cardboard standee of "The Tramp"
with the legend, "Chaplin Short To-Day."

The cat comes around a corner and disappears through a door
at the end of a hallway.  Luke, following the cat, comes
around the same corner and looks at

THE DOOR.

Slightly ajar, there's a light coming from within, as well as
the sound of Old Tim softly humming "It's a Long Way to
Tipperary."

Luke moves to the door and knocks.

                    LUKE
          Um, Old Tim?  Sorry, it's late. 
          It's Luke.  Can I come in?

The humming stops, and after a moment, the door swings open,
revealing Old Tim, a pipe in his mouth, holding the cat,
stroking its fur.

                    OLD TIM
          Found me.

                    LUKE
          Yeah.  I hope you don't mind.  I
          didn't know anyone lived here...
          well, besides Harry.  And me.

Old Tim moves into the room and gestures for Luke to follow
him.

INT.  OLD TIM'S ROOM - NIGHT

The room is lit by a small table lamp next to the neat cot,
which is perfectly made, military-style.

                    OLD TIM
          Not used to visitors.
              (gesturing)
          Sit.

Old Tim points to a ragged, overstuffed easy chair next to
the "kitchen" area -- a sink, dishes and utensils, a tiny
icebox.

Luke sits in the chair, and Old Tim sits on the cot, facing
him.  Silence.  Luke glances up at a photo atop the bureau.

ON THE PHOTO

It's a much younger Old Tim, looking quite serious and
handsome in his Great War doughboy's uniform.

The cat jumps down from Old Tim's arms and moves to Luke.  He
rubs against his legs, purring.  Luke leans down to pet him.

                    LUKE
          So I guess this fellow belongs to
          you.  What's his name?

                    OLD TIM
          Cat.

                    LUKE
          Cat.  That's simple.  I like it.
              (pets Cat)
          Hi, Cat.

                    OLD TIM
              (sudden change-of-subject)
          We thought you was dead, you know.
              (another new thought)
          It's okay that I live here?

                    LUKE
          Of course.

Pause, then suddenly.

                    OLD TIM
          Do you think I'll get me a new u-u
          uniform?

Luke looks up at the old man, who stammers when he speaks
more than a couple of words.

                    LUKE
          I'll do everything I can.

Old Tim puffs on his pipe, strangely detached.

                    OLD TIM
          T-t-thank you.  Thank you.  I... I
          always... I always wanted to wear
          my uniform from the Great War, but
          your daddy, he always said no,
          that's not an usher's u-u-uniform,
          that's an army uniform and the
          Bijou, she's not the army.  They
          give me a medal, but I lost it in
          the h-h-hospital.  I forget things
          sometimes.  Since the w-w-war.

                    LUKE
          Yeah... me too.

                                                  CUT TO:

INT.  PETE'S APARTMENT (L.A.) - DAY

It's a pretty typical bachelor's apartment.  The "SAND
PIRATES" poster leans up against a chair.  Pete's two boxes
of belongings from the studio are on the coffee table, the
empty bottle of Jack Daniels on top.

There's an insistent KNOCK at the door.

                    MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
          Mr. Appleton?  Mr. Appleton?  You
          in there?  This is the Super, I
          have the master key and I'm coming
          in!

We HEAR the key in the lock and the door swings open,
revealing the building SUPER, 50s.  Behind him is Leo
Kubelsky.  They enter the room, and the Super sniffs the air.

                    LEO
          You smell gas?

                    SUPER
          Don't smell nothin'.  He must not
          be dead in here.

                    LEO
          Jesus.

                    SUPER
          Hey, it's the best way to tell.

Leo moves to the boxes and rummages through them.  He picks
up the empty bottle, examines it.

                    SUPER
          You think he's drunk somewhere?

                    LEO
              (under his breath)
          Wouldn't blame him if he was.

                    SUPER
          Well, his rent's past due and he
          said to call you in case of an
          emergency.  He lose his job or
          somethin'?

                    LEO
              (holding out his folding
               money)
          What's his rent?

                    SUPER
          Thirty a month.

Leo peels off a hundred-dollar bill.

                    LEO
          Here's three months rent, and a ten
          spot for no more questions and to
          keep an eye on his place.  Now, I
          need a moment alone.

                    SUPER
              (examining the bill)
          Huh?

                    LEO
          Take a hike.  Am-scray.

                    SUPER
          Huh?  Oh, sure.  Just pull the door
          shut when you leave.

The Super exits and Leo crosses to the phone and dials "O."

                    LEO
              (into phone)
          Police department.  I want to
          report a missing person.

                                                  CUT TO:

INT.  JUSTICE DEPARTMENT HALLWAY - DAY

ON A DOOR

It reads: "OFFICE OF THE MAJORITY COUNSEL - MR. ELVIN CLYDE"

AGENT WALTER SAUNDERS and AGENT STEVEN BRETT, both 30s and G-
men to the core, hustle into the office.

INT.  ELVIN CLYDE'S OFFICE - DAY

ELVIN CLYDE is 35, a small, thin-lipped, reptilian man in the
Roy Cohn mold.  He's on the phone at the moment.

                    CLYDE
              (into phone)
          You say you know nothing about it. 
          You say this, yet you offer no
          proof.  How am I supposed to
          believe you?

Clyde's SECRETARY knocks on the door, sticks her head in.

                    SECRETARY
          Mr. Clyde?  Agents Saunders and
          Brett need to see you.

                    CLYDE
              (covering the phone)
          You do see that I'm busy, do you
          not?

                    SECRETARY
          It's about Appleton.

Clyde's eyes brighten.

                    CLYDE
          Tell them to come in.
              (into phone)
          I'll have to call you back.  I love
          you too, Mother.

Saunders and Brett stride into the office.

                    SAUNDERS
          We've got a situation developing...

                    CLYDE
              (interrupting)
          Will you take those goddamn hats
          off?

They stop, shuck off their hats.  Saunders starts over again.

                    SAUNDERS
          We've got a situation developing
          out on the coast.  Appleton's just
          been reported missing.

Clyde grins darkly.

                    CLYDE
          This is good.  This is very good.

                    BRETT
          Los Angeles Police Department
          investigated.  His car's missing. 
          No signs of forced entry or
          struggle at his apartment.

Clyde considers this for a beat, then:

                    CLYDE
          You two are on this as of now. 
          Tell the LAPD their investigation
          has been federalized on my order. 
          You find me this Appleton.
              (leans back, smiling)
          I want to see what this one has to
          say.

                                                  CUT TO:

INT.  BIJOU OFFICE - DAY

Luke is sitting at the desk, making notes and adding up some
figures.  He puts his pencil down and rubs his eyes, then
looks up at

HARRY AND OLD TIM

who are sitting on the floor, going through piles of lobby
cards and folded one-sheets like little boys fascinated with
their baseball cards.

He shifts his gaze to

MRS. TERWILLIGER

who is straightening out and dusting the tops of the two or
three file cabinets in the corner of the office.  As she
works, she hums an old song, occasionally breaking into the
lyrics:

                    MRS. TERWILLIGER
              (sings)
          "The object of my affection, Can
          change my complexion, From white to
          rosy red..."

Luke takes a breath:

                    LUKE
          Well...

                    HARRY
          Yes?

                    LUKE
          Between a new screen, paint,
          plumbing for the concession stand,
          and about a hundred other repairs
          around the theater... it's going to
          cost at least nine hundred dollars
          to get the Bijou into shape to open
          up.

                    MRS. TERWILLIGER
          Oh, my.

                    HARRY
              (taken aback)
          Nine hundred...

                    LUKE
          And you have sixty-eight dollars
          and thirty-seven cents in the bank. 
          Your only source of income are my
          veteran's death benefit of forty
          dollars a month, to which you're no
          longer entitled since I'm alive,
          and these ten dollar a month cash
          deposits you make.  What are those?

                    HARRY
              (glances at Old Tim)
          They're...

                    OLD TIM
          That's my r-r-rent.

                    LUKE
          Oh.

                    HARRY
          It's all my fault.  I was
          neglectful and this is the price of
          that.

                    MRS. TERWILLIGER
          Don't say that.

                    HARRY
          Well, it's true.  Wanting to open
          this place back up.  It's folly,
          Irene, pure and simple.  Might as
          well just call it what it is.

Off everyone's worried looks, we

                                                  CUT TO:

A TV SCREEN

It's tiny, with rounded corners, black-and-white, and a
hopeless chaos of horizontal bars and snow.

WIDER

INT.  LARDNER LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Doc Lardner is fiddling with a brand-new console television
set, trying vainly to tune in a clear picture of "Your Show
of Shows."  He adjusts the dials, fiddles with the rabbit
ears, steps back -- and is successful.  SID CAESAR And
IMOGENE COCA are involved in an elaborate pantomime sketch,
and Lardner fairly roars with laughter.

He turns to go back to his chair, but the second he does so,
the reception goes haywire.  He returns to the spot in front
of the TV, and the picture is perfect again.

The DOORBELL RINGS.  He's torn -- if he moves, the picture
will break up.  The doorbell RINGS again, and we HEAR Adele's
voice from upstairs:

                    ADELE (O.S.)
          Daddy, that's Luke, can you let him
          in?  I'll be right down.

                    LARDNER
          Honey, I... I can't... it's the...

There's a KNOCK at the door.

                    LARDNER
              (giving in)
          Oh, hell...

He moves from his spot.  The reception goes bad, and he
marches to the door.

He opens it, and Luke is standing there, wearing a slightly
out-of-date coat and tie.

                    LARDNER
          Evening, Luke.

                    LUKE
          Evening, Doctor Lardner.

Lardner freezes, staring at Luke.

                    LUKE
          What's wrong?

                    LARDNER
              (shaken from his reverie)
          Uh, no... just seeing you standing
          there, it reminded me... there's a
          word for it...

                    LUKE
          Oh, you mean the suit.  Harry kept
          all my old clothes.  Fits okay, but
          it's a little big.

Adele comes down the stairs.  Halfway down, she stops
suddenly and stares at Luke.

                    ADELE
          Oh...

Awkward pause.  Adele's staring at Luke, Lardner's staring at
Luke, and Luke's getting nervous.

                    LUKE
          I shouldn't have worn the suit.

Adele comes down the stairs.

                    ADELE
          No... you were wearing that suit
          the last time we went out before...

                    LUKE
          Oh...

                    ADELE
          ... and It's just... well, deja vu.

                    LARDNER
          That's it.  Deja vu.

Another awkward pause as Adele and Luke stare at each other. 
Lardner breaks it.

                    LARDNER
          You kids off to the dance?

                    LUKE
          Aren't you coming?

                    LARDNER
          No, I'm not much of a dancer.

                    ADELE
              (chidingly)
          Besides, Daddy's still trying to
          figure out how to get his new
          television set working.

                    LARDNER
          I had it, a minute ago...

He glances at the TV set.  The picture is suddenly crystal
clear.

                    LARDNER
          ... ooooh, It's back.
              (encouraging them toward
               the door)
          Well, you kids have fun now...

Adele takes Luke's arm and they exit, exchanging goodnights
with Lardner, who closes the door and turns toward the living
room.

S-l-o-w-l-y, he sneaks into the room, watching the TV
carefully all the while.  The reception is staying perfect. 
Caesar and Coca are involved in an intricate bit of business,
and Lardner wants to laugh, but he's afraid to.  He stifles
his urge, and heads for his chair.  Gingerly, he sits.  Still
perfect.

Satisfied, he finally LAUGHS out loud and puts his feet up. 
The picture goes completely haywire again.

                    LARDNER
          Aw, crap.

EXT.  STREET - NIGHT

Adele and Luke walk along, arm-in-arm.

                    ADELE
          This is strange.  Do you feel it?

                    LUKE
          What?

                    ADELE
          We've done this before, so many
          times.  The last time was so long
          ago, but it feels like yesterday.

                    LUKE
          Oh.

Pause.

                    ADELE
          You know, everyone's so excited
          about the Bijou re-opening...

                    LUKE
              (interrupting)
          It's gonna cost over nine hundred
          dollars to open the place, Delly.

                    ADELE
              (shocked)
          Nine hundred...

                    LUKE
          Yeah, and needless to say, none of
          us has that kind of money lying
          around.

                    ADELE
          What about a loan?  You could go to
          the bank...?

                    LUKE
          A loan to a man who ran his
          business into the ground and his
          son who can't account for the last
          nine-and-a-half years of his life? 
          Not likely.

                    ADELE
          Well, there's got to be a way...

                    LUKE
              (suddenly)
          Have you got a cigarette?

Adele stops.

                    ADELE
          When did you start smoking?

                    LUKE
          I don't smoke?

                    ADELE
          You tried to once.  It was pretty
          pitiful.

                    LUKE
          Oh.

Adele glances curiously at Luke as we

                                                  CUT TO:

A CLARINET

launching into the opening bars of "Don't Be That Way," an
old Benny Goodman tune.

EXT.  CITY HALL SQUARE - DAY

Spencer Wyatt's big ban is comprised of a dozen or so
MUSICIANS about Spencer's age -- except for the drummer,
AVERY WYATT, 40s, Spencer's dad.  Though no Gene Krupa, he
pounds the skins pretty well, all the while smiling proudly
as his son plays clarinet and leads the band.

Despite the last minute decorations, the Square looks nice,
hung with multicolored paper lanterns and colored lights.

ON LUKE AND ADELE

dancing to the music, along with several other COUPLES.

                    LUKE
              (nodding toward the band)
          They're not bad.

                    ADELE
          No, they're not.  I'd say your
          investment was paying dividends.

                    LUKE
          My what?

                    ADELE
          Back in '37, you heard Benny
          Goodman play for the first time, so
          you went out and got a used
          clarinet.  You wanted nothing more
          than to be able to play like him. 
          You tried hard, but it wasn't long
          before it was clear that Benny
          Goodman would never be looking over
          his shoulder.  So you gave the
          clarinet to Spencer.

                    LUKE
          Huh.  That was nice of me.

                    ADELE
          You had a hidden agenda, though. 
          See, when he was five or six,
          little Spence used to follow you
          around like a puppy.  Bothered the
          hell out of you.  But as soon as
          you gave him the clarinet...

                    LUKE
          ... he started practicing, and he
          left me alone from then on.

                    ADELE
          Exactly.  And he got good.

                    LUKE
          No kidding.

They dance a bit.

                    ADELE
          Now, did you remember that, or...

                    LUKE
          Nope.  Just filling in the blanks.

                    ADELE
          Oh.  Okay.

And as they dance away, we

                                                  CUT TO:

THE SAME - LATER

ON THE REFRESHMENTS TABLE

Luke is pouring two glasses of punch, while Adele is being
shyly admired (and having her ear bent) by two twin brothers,
ALEX and CHARLIE MCKENNA, mid-20s.

                    ALEX
          You're the luckiest guy in town,
          Luke.  Delly's 'bout the prettiest
          thing ever come outta Lawson.

                    LUKE
              (to Alex)
          Thanks, Charlie.

                    ALEX
          I'm Alex.  He's Charlie.

                    CHARLIE
          I'm Charlie.

                    ALEX
          Yessir, 'bout the prettiest thing
          we ever seen, ain't that right,
          Charlie?

                    CHARLIE
          You bet.

                    ADELE
              (ala Mae West)
          Thanks boys, ya flatter me no end.

The brothers laugh goofily.

                    CHARLIE
          Hey, she's doin' that movie star,
          what's her name...?

                    ALEX
              (ignoring his brother)
          Hey, Delly, what was that test you
          was outta town takin'?

                    ADELE
          It's called the State Bar Exam.

                    CHARLIE
          Shoot!

                    ALEX
          Imagine that, Charlie!  A lady
          bartender!

                                                  CUT TO:

THE SAME - LATER

Adele and Luke are slow dancing to "Thanks for the Memory."

                    LUKE
          How do you tell those two apart,
          anyway?

                    ADELE
          Alex and Charlie?  Simple.  Alex is
          the smarter one.

                    LUKE
          That's... pretty frightening.

They laugh and dance a bit more.

                    ADELE
          Your dancing's very good.

                    LUKE
          Thanks.

                    ADELE
          It never used to be.  You were two
          left feet on the dance floor.  Like
          pulling teeth to get you to do a
          little box step.

                    LUKE
          Guess I must've learned.

Luke dances Adele away, a slightly nonplussed expression on
her face.  The band finishes the song, and everyone
enthusiastically APPLAUDS.  Spencer bows shyly, blushing
slightly.  He nods to the band, and they bow before he
motions for the crowd's attention.

                    SPENCER
              (nervously)
          Thanks, folks.  Gee, can you tell
          we never played in front of people
          before?

The crowd yells "No!," "You guys sound great!," etc.

                    SPENCER
          Well, this is our first time, and
          it's really all because of Luke.  I
          mean, it's because of Luke coming
          back that we're here tonight -- but
          I'm talking about this.

He holds up the clarinet and scans the crowd until he sees
Luke.

                    SPENCER
              (to Luke)
          When you didn't come back, I
          learned how to play this so I could
          remember you.  And now that you're
          back, well, I'll never forget you.
              (to the crowd)
          Luke gave me this clarinet, but he
          gave this night to all of us.

The crowd APPLAUDS warmly.

                    SPENCER
          Okay folks, here's Mayor Cole!

The crowd APPLAUDS as Ernie Cole mounts the band riser.  He
turns and addresses Avery Wyatt, on drums.

                    ERNIE
          Pretty proud of your boy, Avery?

Avery smiles broadly and beats the KICK DRUM five or six
times to register his reaction.

ON THE KICK DRUM -- "WYATT'S HARDWARE, LAWSON, CALIF."

                    ERNIE
          Looks like you might have to find
          someone else to mix paint at the
          store, 'cause I think Spencer's got
          a big career ahead of him.

APPLAUSE again, and Ernie waits for it to settle.  As soon as
he starts speaking, the crowd becomes totally silent.

                    ERNIE
          You know folks, here in Lawson, we
          gave a lot for our country.  A lot. 
          And we never complained and we
          never faltered.  And we never
          forgot.

Ernie's voice cracks slightly with emotion.  He clears his
throat and continues.

                    ERNIE
          We never forgot.  And so when one
          of our own came back to us, I gotta
          tell you folks, it was like a
          miracle.  Luke, seein' you walking
          down the street, it was... well, it
          was kinda like seein' one of my
          boys alive again.  I think I speak
          for everyone here when I say that
          not a day goes by when we don't
          keep our boys' memories alive.  But
          Luke, having you back among us...
          well, it helps us keep their
          spirits alive, too.  God bless you,
          son.

The crowd APPLAUDS.  Adele takes Luke's hand and smiles. 
Ernie wipes his eyes and changes the subject.

                    ERNIE
          All right, enough a'that.  This is
          a celebration, so let's have us a
          good time -- but not too good a
          time, 'cause I see just about every
          member of the city council here
          tonight, and we have an eight a.m. 
          council meeting tomorrow morning,
          and I expect y'all to be there! 
          All right, take it away, Spencer!

And Spencer kicks the band into the next tune as we

                                             DISSOLVE TO:

THE SAME - LATER

Luke and Adele come over to Harry and Mrs. Terwilliger,
standing at the periphery.  Old Tim stands a few feet back.

                    LUKE
          Why don't you two get out there and
          dance?

                    HARRY
          Oh, no, I...

Mrs. Terwilliger blushes.

                    MRS. TERWILLIGER
          I haven't danced with another man
          since Mr. Terwilliger passed.

                    LUKE
          When was that?

                    MRS. TERWILLIGER
          Nineteen-oh-nine.

Harry touches Luke's arm.

                    HARRY
          Son, we're gonna go.  You two kids
          have a lovely time.

Goodnights are exchanged, and the trio leaves.  Alex McKenna
comes up to Adele and taps her on the shoulder.

                    ALEX
          Delly, can I have a dance?

                    ADELE
          Sure.

Alex leads her to the dance floor as Adele shoots Luke a
little "help me!" look.  Luke smiles back and watches the
dancing crowd.  After a moment, a man in a white suit and bow
tie, ROSCOE FITTS, 40s, comes over to Luke and extends his
hand.

                    FITTS
          Luke, you probably don't remember
          me, Roscoe Fitts, I'm the grocer
          here in town.

                    LUKE
              (shakes his hand)
          Good to meet you.  Again.

                    FITTS
          Like Ernie said, we're all glad to
          have you back.

                    LUKE
          Thanks.

                    FITTS
          And I hear you and Harry are
          planning on re-opening the Bijou.

                    LUKE
          We're gonna try.  Place needs a lot
          of work.

                    FITTS
          I can only imagine.  You know, I
          spoke with your Dad last year about
          maybe taking the Bijou off his
          hands.  I don't think he gave it
          very much thought.

                    LUKE
          Well, he loves the place.  It's his
          home.

                    FITTS
          Luke, I'm hopping you can help him
          see the reality of the situation. 
          I'll come to the point.  I want to
          buy the property, and I'm prepared
          to offer six-thousand dollars for
          it.  And that's just for the
          property, mind you.  If you want,
          I'll leave it to you and your
          father to dismantle and liquidate
          the building for whatever salvage
          value it has, and you keep those
          proceeds.  I just want the land.

                    LUKE
              (taken aback)
          That's... well, that's very
          generous, but if you've already got
          a store...?

                    FITTS
          The days of the storefront grocery
          are numbered.  I plan on putting up
          a free-standing supermarket.

                    LUKE
              (it's an alien word)
          A super market.  Huh.

                    FITTS
          You think it over.  No reason to
          risk financial ruin for the sake of
          a crumbling old building.

Fitts takes Luke's hand and shakes it.

                    FITTS
          Good to have you back, Luke.

As Luke watches Fitts walk off, we

                                                  CUT TO:

THE SAME - LATER

ON SPENCER

                    SPENCER
          Last dance, folks!

The crowd MOANS slightly, and Spencer kicks the band into
"Moonlight Serenade," slow and easy.

ON ADELE AND LUKE

As they hold each other close and dance.  Adele rests her
head on Luke's shoulder, her eyes closed.  Luke strokes her
hair and sways her gently to the music.

Luke looks toward the edge of the dance floor.

LUKE'S POV

Bob Leffert is standing there, staring at the band.  Mabel
comes up behind him and taps him on the shoulder.  She's
asking him if he would like to dance.  Bob looks down at the
ground, self-consciously shoves his hook-hand in his pocket
and moves away, leaving Mabel standing there.

As Luke watches and the MUSIC CONTINUES OVER, WE

                                             DISSOLVE TO:

MONTAGE:

Luke and Adele dancing...

... walking slowly arm-in-arm down Adele's street, up her
walk to her door...

... kissing passionately on her doorstep...

... Adele going inside and Luke walking away, each unable to
take their eyes off the other...

... Luke walking the quiet streets of Lawson, smiling
beatifically...

                                        MATCH DISSOLVE TO:

EXT.  THE BIJOU - NIGHT

Luke turns the corner and heads for the theater door.  He
pulls out his keys and enters.

INT.  BIJOU LOBBY - NIGHT

Luke's about to close the door, when he looks down and sees

CAT

MEOWING at him from the sidewalk.  He holds the door open,
and Cat shoots into the lobby, disappearing into the
auditorium.  Luke closes the door... and stops.  He HEARS
something, and so do we.  Soft and faraway, it's a PIANO. 
The melody is soft, lilting -- almost a lullaby.

Luke turns toward the music, which is coming from the
auditorium.  The piano continues, building slightly in
volume.  He moves to the auditorium doors and tentatively
pushes one open.

INT.  AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Luke enters, his face bathed in the soft, flickering,
reflected light of

THE SCREEN.

The movie is "The Big Parade."  The old, decomposing nitrate
print is badly scratched and stained.  A young, beautiful
Renee Adoree is bidding a tearful farewell to her lover, John
Gilbert, as he marches off to fight the Great War.

Luke stares at the screen.  The look on his face is one of
bewilderment -- and awe.

ANGLE - THE PIANO

The rickety old upright is tinny-sounding and slightly out-
of-tune.  But it really doesn't matter.

CLOSER

Mrs. Terwilliger is playing passionately.  She never takes
her eyes -- which are full of tears -- off the tattered
screen, except to close them when she is overcome with
emotion.  Even so, she never misses a beat.

HER HANDS

fairly dance upon the keys.  Stiff and wrinkled as they are,
they manage to elicit every possible fragment of sensitivity
that the old piano can muster.

Luke is moved by what he's witnessing.  This is the magic...

WIDER ANGLE - THE CENTER SECTION

To the right of Luke, sitting in the center of a row, is Old
Tim.  Stroking Cat, Old Tim stares at the poignant scene
unfolding on the screen, pausing only to wipe his eyes and
nose with a handkerchief.  He doesn't notice

LUKE

who looks up towards the projection booth.

                                                  CUT TO:

A BRIGHT, WHITE, FLICKERING LIGHT,

filling the frame.  We're looking directly into the beam of
light radiating from the projector.

PUSHING INTO THE LIGHT, we get closer to the windows of the
booth.  We come out of the beam and can just barely make out
the figure of Harry, framed in a small window next to the
projector.

WE CONTINUE PUSHING IN -- closer and closer -- until Harry's
face fills the screen.  He is watching the film; his eyes are
wide and moist, as though he's experiencing the magic that's
unfolding on the screen for the very first time.

The warning bell on the projector CHIMES THREE TIMES,
signaling the end of the reel.  Harry moves away from the
window.

INT.  PROJECTION BOOTH - NIGHT

Never taking his eyes off the screen, Harry watches as the
film comes to an end and flap!  falp!  falps!  out of the
projector.  He kills the motor and cranks the carbon arcs
apart, and the bright beam dies.  It's not the end of the
movie, but it is the end of the only fragment they have.

Harry moves to the house lights rheostat, and slowly fades
them up.  This done, he pulls a handkerchief from his back
pocket and blows his nose loudly.

He crosses back to the projector, unlatches the full take-up
reel and takes it down.  He's about to move away, when he
senses that he's not alone.  He looks over the projector to
see

LUKE,

standing there.  Their eyes meet.  Someone should say
something -- both men search for words.  Suddenly, Luke feels
very out-of-place, almost embarrassed -- as though he's
interrupted a very private ritual.

Harry senses this.  Clutching the precious reel of film
tightly to his chest, he searches Luke's face and smiles
warmly.

                    HARRY
          Beautiful, wasn't it?

                    LUKE
              (softly)
          Yes.

                    HARRY
          Well, son, I wish I could've shown
          you more, but this is all that's
          left.  Just this one reel that
          never got sent back from a picture
          we showed here a long time ago. 
          Nineteen twenty-five, to be
          exact...

                    LUKE
          Dad, I...

                    HARRY
              (a tiny laugh)
          Ha!

                    LUKE
          ... what?

                    HARRY
          You know, since you've been back,
          that's the first time you've called
          me "Dad."

Father and son look at each other for a long moment --
searching each other's eyes.  Harry smiles a sort-of half-
smile at Luke, and, still clutching the reel, crosses to the
rewind bench.  Methodically, he mounts it and threads the end
of the film onto an empty reel.  Slowly, he begins to turn
the crank, rewinding the film.

He stops and looks to where Luke was standing... but he's not
there.

ANGLE - PROJECTION BOOTH DOOR

Luke is leaning up against the wall just outside of the
projection booth.

ONE LUKE

As he closes his eyes...

                                           FADE TO BLACK.

FADE IN:

ON HARRY

In bed, sound asleep, snoring.  A HAND reaches into frame and
shakes him awake.

                    LUKE'S VOICE
          Harry.  Dad, wake up.  Wake up.

Harry opens his eyes and looks up.

INT.  HARRY'S BEDROOM - DAY

                    HARRY
              (bleary)
          Luke... what time is it?

                    LUKE
          Six-thirty.
              (smiles)
          I thought we'd get an early start.

                                                  CUT TO:

INT.  CITY COUNCIL MEETING ROOM - DAY

A meeting of the Lawson City Council is in session, Mayor
Cole presiding.  Of the dozen council MEMBERS, we also
recognize Avery Wyatt and Roscoe Fitts.  VERA DWIGHT, the
council secretary, a cherubic woman in her 40s, is reading
the minutes of the last meeting.

                    VERA
          Finally, Roscoe Fitts moved, and
          Red Curtis seconded, that the
          council form a committee to
          investigate the adoption of a new
          property taxation structure. 
          Motion carried, nine to two, one
          abstention.

As Vera speaks, the meeting room door opens and Luke, Harry,
Old Time and Mrs. Terwilliger slip inside and take seats on
the unoccupied benches.

                    ERNIE
          Thanks, Vera.

Ernie notices Luke and the trio.

                    ERNIE
          Well, the chair notes the presence
          this morning of Luke and Harry
          Trumbo and the rest of the Bijou
          staff.  Frankly, the chair notes
          the presence of just about anyone
          who ever finds their way into one
          of these meetings.  G'moring,
          folks.

                    LUKE & THE TRIO
          Good morning.

                    ERNIE
          I'm just guessing, but I bet it's
          not a sudden interest in Lawson
          politics that brings you all here.

Luke stands.

                    LUKE
          Well, no...
              (clears his throat)
          I wanted to thank you all for
          giving me such a nice welcome, and
          making me feel at home.  But I...
          we're... actually here on business
          of a sort...

DALEY THORNHILL, 30s, the council parliamentarian, pipes up. 
He's waving a copy of "Roberts Rules of Order."

                    DALEY
          Point of order, Mr. Mayor, this
          comes under the heading "New
          Business," and this is not the
          time...

                    ERNIE
          I think we can make an exception
          here, Daley.

                    DALEY
          It'll need to be moved and
          seconded.

Ernie rolls his eyes, then quickly and mechanically, without
inflection:

                    ERNIE
          All right, motion to hear the
          speaker out of order.

                    WYATT
          Seconded.

                    ERNIE
          Motion on the floor, discussion
          open, discussion closed, all those
          in favor signify by saying "aye."

                    ALL
          Aye.

                    ERNIE
          Opposed?  Hearing no opposition,
          the motion is carried.

Pause.  Ernie turns to Luke and smiles.

                    ERNIE
          Go ahead, son.

                    LUKE
          Thanks.  Well, I'll make this short
          and sweet.  The Bijou needs a lot
          of repairs, and the truth of the
          matter is, Harry, um, that is, Dad
          and me, Mrs. Terwilliger and Old
          Tim, we can't possible afford them
          all.  So, I'd like to ask your help
          to... well, to scrounge around a
          bit, and see if you have anything
          that might help us out.

                    WYATT
          What kinds of things are you
          talking about?

                    LUKE
          Oh, paint, brushes, plaster, light
          bulbs, yardage, and if you can't
          come up with any of that, we can
          use some old-fashioned elbow
          grease.

Fitts leans forward.

                    FITTS
          So... you do intend to fix the
          place up after all?

                    LUKE
          Mr. Fitts, with all due respect, I
          think Lawson needs the Bijou a bit
          more than it needs a super market. 
          And I think Lawson deserves the
          Bijou.  There's not a lot that can
          be done to help us get past the
          pain we've all felt...

He looks at Harry and smiles.

                    LUKE
          ... but I think a good dose of
          magic is as good a place as any to
          start.

The council members MURMUR amongst themselves, then:

                    WYATT
              (eagerly)
          Motion to encourage the citizenry
          of Lawson to help out the Bijou in
          any way they can...

                    DALEY
              (a subtle reminder)
          ... short of the allocation of city
          funds...

                    WYATT
              (agreeing)
          ... short of allocation of city
          funds.

                    DALEY
              (enthusiastically)
          Seconded!

                    ERNIE
              (brightly)
          Motion on the floor, discussion
          open, discussion closed, all those
          in favor signify by saying "aye."

                    ALL
          AYE!

                    ERNIE
          Hearing no opposition, the motion
          is carried!  Congratulations, Luke,
          you got yourself a town to help you
          out!

                                                  CUT TO:

INT.  CITY HALL BASEMENT STORAGE ROOM - DAY

As the entire city council and the Bijou trio looks on, Luke
moves to the memorial and pulls down the huge piece of muslin
covering it.  Harry steps forward and gathers some of it in
his arms.

Ernie and Daley step forward and look up at the monument.

Ernie touches the names of his two sones inscribed on the
base of the monument.

                    ERNIE
              (slowly)
          You know, this really ought to be
          out where people can see it.

Luke overhears this last, and as he smiles, he turns to
Harry, who brightens as he pulls a large section of the
muslin taut between his outstretched arms...

                                                  CUT TO:

MONTAGE - WITH SOME HARD-DRIVING BOOGIE-WOOGIE UNDER...

ANGLE - THE SCREEN

Harry's on a ladder, snipping the cords holding up the old
screen, which is dropping, bit-by-bit, into the arms of Luke
and Adele, who are surrounded by a group of LITTLE KIDS,
watching the goings-on in wide-eyed awe.

Harry snips the last line, and the rest of the old screen
drops down on Luke's head.  Suddenly... LUKE'S A GHOST!!  He
raises his arms and plays the bogeyman for the kids, who
scream in mock terror and scatter, as Harry and Adele laugh.

INT.  AUDITORIUM - DAY

Old Tim and Harry carry a dilapidated row of seats up the
aisle, as Adele and Mabel move in, tearing up the rotten
carpeting and sweeping up the dust and debris.

The men are having a tough time carrying the seats, and just
as they're about to drop the row, someone rushes in next to
Harry and grabs his end.  It's Carl Leffert.  A second later,
someone else grabs Old Tim's end.

BOB LEFFERT

has a good purchase on the seats with his good hand and his
hook.  He nods to Old Tim, who steps away, mopping his brow.

Luke smiles as he sees this from the front of the auditorium.

INT.  BIJOU LOBBY - DAY

Harry, Stanton and Mrs. Terwilliger, with the help of Avery
Wyatt and his son Spencer, tear down the rotting draperies
and scrape off the wallpaper covering the lobby walls.  Then,
as Harry, Spencer and Stanton sand down the walls, Avery and
Mrs. Terwilliger hand them freshly-mixed cans of red wall
paint and brushes.  Immediately, they all set to work
painting.

EXT.  THE BIJOU SIGN - DAY

Luke is on the roof of the theater, pliers in hand and tool
box nearby.  He's just straightened out the "J" and he steps
back... carefully... to admire his handiwork.  For the first
time in a long