97
pages
English
Documents
2009
Le téléchargement nécessite un accès à la bibliothèque YouScribe Tout savoir sur nos offres
97
pages
English
Ebook
2009
Le téléchargement nécessite un accès à la bibliothèque YouScribe Tout savoir sur nos offres
Publié par
Publié le
01 octobre 2009
Nombre de lectures
8
Licence :
Langue
English
Publié par
Publié le
01 octobre 2009
Nombre de lectures
8
Licence :
Langue
English
Written by
Oliver Butcher & Stephen Cornwell
Adapted from the novel "Out of My Head" by
Didier van Cauwelaert
02.10.09
FADE IN:
INT. PASSENGER JET - EARLY MORNING
Sleepy thick fatigue, the end of a red-eye flight. Most passengers still asleep, a few read, or stare blankly. In business class, A HUSBAND and WIFE, mid-30's. He's awake, reading a document. She sleeps nestled against his shoulder. He's trim, sharp, good looking in an academic way. Even in sleep, she's beautiful. Wide-mouthed and honey-haired. The plane's aspect SHIFTS, the pilot's voice comes on in German. The man lifts his window shade, peers out at the first rays of sun touching the skyline of Berlin.
EXT. TEGEL AIRPORT, BERLIN - EARLY MORNING
Halo of lights. Giant talons, the airplane's LANDING GEAR appears through cloud. Tires hit slick asphalt.
INT. ARRIVALS TERMINAL, TEGEL AIRPORT - SAME
The couple. Dr. Martin Harris and Elizabeth Harris. WIDER: a German IMMIGRATION OFFICER glances up at MARTIN and LIZ. KA- CHUNK! KA-CHUNK! Stamps both passports, swipes the bar codes over a scanner, hands them back. Martin slips his into a leather briefcase.
EXT. ARRIVALS TERMINAL, TEGEL AIRPORT - DAWN
Raining. A melee of travelers and vehicles. Liz beside him, Martin wheels a baggage cart through the crush. An ATTENDANT ushers them toward a waiting cab and DRIVER... a CRASH of THUNDER -- the rain suddenly triples in strength. A DELUGE. The taxi driver hustles Martin and Liz towards his car. He shields his head with a newspaper, piling their bags into the trunk, cursing. Martin sets down his case, moves to help the driver...
I/E. TAXI CAB - DAWN The DRIVER merges onto the autobahn. Liz yawns with jet-lag, studies Martin who stares out at the passing city.
Hey... You're gonna do great. You always do.
2.
I/E. TAXI/HOTEL IMPERIAL, BERLIN - MORNING Modern 'Deco Revival' hotel/conference center. A banner welcomes delegates to the World Biotechnology Forum. The Harris' taxi pulls up in the forecourt thick with red-eye travelers arriving for early morning check-in. Martin takes out his billfold.
I'll do this. You check in. Liz pecks his cheek, gets out. Martin leans forward.
How much do we owe you?
INT. HOTEL LOBBY - SAME
Liz presses up to the crowded desk. A busy RECEPTIONIST takes Liz's booking slip.
The Eisenhower suite. Dr. and Mrs. Harris.
EXT. HOTEL FORECOURT - SAME
A BELLHOP holds a large umbrella up to the rain, loads the Harris' bags onto his cart. Shuts the trunk, the taxi pulls away. Heading for the entrance...
Welcome to the Hotel Imperial. Have you stayed with us before?
No, this is our first visit to Berlin. We're -- -- he stops short, staring at their bags, stacked on the luggage cart. He turns, tracks the their taxi, already pulling out of the drive...
INT. HOTEL LOBBY - SAME
a stab of concern on Liz's face.
What do you mean the suite may not be available?
(CONTINUED)
3.
CONTINUED:
I have to check with the manager. Security inspections of the rooms are still being completed.
But we confirmed two months ago. Receptionist raises an apologetic hand as she attends to a ringing phone. Liz sighs, glances back toward the entrance. Suddenly curious as she sees...
. Martin standing in the open door of the next taxi in line. He speaks to the bellhop who nods, quickly pushing the cart in through the doors, headed for Liz...
I/E. TAXI/BERLIN - SAME Martin getting in, agitated.
Tegel airport. Arrivals. Quick. The driver pulls out into traffic. The rain still heavy. Martin stares out at the wet city. Eyes track as the shadowy columns of the Brandenburg Gate pass by. He lets himself relax a little, enjoying this moment of forced calm. He catches sight of the driver in the rear-view. Young, female, shortish hair. Tomboy cute. Smart eyes, older than her years. Layers of clothing. GINA. She glances into the mirror, catches Martin watching her.
Everyone says how much it's changed. Berlin. Eyes connect, brief. Wipers flip-flap.
.I wouldn't know. First time.
Yes, me too. I mean, I wouldn't know either. You're American? He looks back at her, inquisitive...
For the airport, it's always Americans in the morning... Asians at night.
(CONTINUED)
4.
CONTINUED: Martin nods, pulls out his phone. Service dies as Gina downshifts, Doc Martins working the pedals, accelerates away from the large "Flughafen" (Airport) sign, down a cobbled road next to main route.
I think you missed... He stops, smiles as he realizes she's navigated around a large construction back-up, saving them time.
You do what you do, I do what I do, right?
What do you do, when you're not...? She laughs. He smiles, nods. Okay, dumb thing to say.
Sorry, I didn't mean anything --
It's okay. I know what you meant. Her eyes meet his in the mirror. She swings the taxi onto Wilhelmstrasse. Stops at a red light. Ahead, the Marshall Bridge over the River Spree.
Gina moves the taxi mid-stream in the traffic heading onto the bridge. Martin checks his phone, he's got service. He starts to dial... Suddenly -- the cars in front of her start VEERING WILDLY IN DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS, just missing the boxed REFRIGERATOR tumbling off the truck in front of them. The box BURSTS open. Gina swerves to avoid it, CLIPS the corner... front tire BLOWS OUT... taxi skids crazily, HITS the CURB. Tires SHREDDING... shower of SPARKS. Taxi SLAMS over the curb, THROUGH the rail. Plunges off the bridge.
Strangely serene. Intense vivid IMAGES... the playing card 'ACE TAXIS' logo on the dash... GINA'S EYES in the MIRROR... Silent free-fall dive. Timeless. Dreamlike.
(CONTINUED)
5.
CONTINUED: (2)
WHAM--! TAXI HITS THE WATER Martin's head SMACKS against the side window. Gina cushioned by the airbags, which she wrestles back. WATER SPRAYS IN. Gina can't open her door. Steel steering-lock on the floor. Grabs it, SMASHES the side window. Hauls herself out...
. gasping. On the bridge above, people frantically flag down traffic... Gina turns, sees the Taxi, midstream, sinking. Martin still in back, unconscious. No time. Gina gulps air, dives. She reaches into the front of the cab, grabs the steering lock, HAMMERS it against the passenger window, glances up: THE SURFACE, starts to recede as the taxi slips underneath, sinking... Gina hammers at the glass again, it BREAKS. Grabs Martin's limp body, drags him up to the surface. A CROWD ON the bank. People wading out to help. Taking Martin from her, carrying him up onto dry land. LIGHTS, SIRENS... The POLICE arriving, pushing back the crowd. PARAMEDICS quickly laying Martin out on the concrete. Everyone's focus on the unconscious man. Gina eases back... melts away into the growing horde of on-lookers as the paramedics rip open Martin's shirt... feeding a tube down his throat. Pushing on his stomach. DEFIBRILLATOR paddles. WHINE as defibrillators charge. A PARAMEDIC lifts Martin's eyelid, shines a flashlight...
in a dark fog. Distant voices --
UNIVERSITY LECTURE HALL. Youthful MARTIN speaking on the spotlit podium. Intense, energized. A college age LIZ in the audience. LAUGHTER of rapt students. Loud APPLAUSE. A jovial older COLLEAGUE eagerly shaking Martin's hand...
Paddles on Martin's chest. Paramedic calls out:
Achtung! WHOMPF! The charge surges into Martin's body.
(CONTINUED)
6.
CONTINUED: (3)
a CONSERVATORY. Martin as a CHILD. Fascinated, delighted as his FATHER shows him the opening bud of a blossom. Butterflies' wings SHIMMER in sunlight...
WHOMPF! SECOND ARCING CHARGE... Martin's chest heaves up. Slumps back down...
. Liz and Martin making love. Passionate, intertwined.
WHOMPF! ANOTHER SURGE OF ELECTRICITY... Martin's chest rising up...
. half-dressed, hair ruffled and wet. Towelling it. Turning toward us. Smiles. Her lips moving...
WHOMPF! A FOURTH PULSE... Martin's body slumping back. Sudden QUIET now, the world removed. Just his face. His eyes.
They say your whole life flashes before you... but it's the little things... the details... the moments. Its like looking at a painting. Stand close, all you can see are the brush strokes. It's only when you step back that you get the whole picture...
SLOWLY BECOMING...
. of light seen from behind closed eyelids. Quiet... except for a distant sound. CRACKLING. Like falling rain. The sound growing. Close now. Filling our ears, as...
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY
.a tiny pin-hole of light, TOO BRIGHT. GLIMPSES of a NURSE as she tears the wrapping off a fresh drip sac...
.A man's voice... distant. German words. Small, faded image of a German DOCTOR, speaking with the nurse...
(CONTINUED)
7.
CONTINUED:
.again, a pin-hole of consciousness. The Nurse, taking a private moment, speaking in German on her cell-phone. The Nurse looks over, straight at us, realization in her face, she hurries from the room. We REVOLVE... finding... MARTIN HARRIS. Arms by his sides. A few days beard. A sutured cut on his temple. His eyes fluttering, barely open... then closing. Clipboard beside the bed. An admission form. In German. Where Martin's name should be: "unbekannte maennliche Person", and the SUBTITLE becomes our MAIN TITLE...
'UNKNOWN WHITE MALE'...
Squeak of a door. Distant FOOTSTEPS. Quiet again. Just the distant PULSE of his heartbeat. His eyes... flick OPEN.
Vision BLURRED, BLINKING to focus. Scrubbed floor, white walls, Banks of drips and monitors, his possessions on a table near him...
Konnen Sie mich horen?
Daylight through a window. Sitting by the bed is a dark- haired man with a van Dyke beard. DR. FARGE.
Wenn Sie mich horen konnen, blinken Sie zweimal. He watches as Martin's eyes tilt. Look directly at him. A sound. A dry croak... slowly forms itself into speech:
I... I don't... speak German...
(beat - accented)
Are you English?
. American... A beat. Farge signals the Nurse to come in. Speaks to him slowly and clearly in English:
(CONTINUED)
S.
CONTINUED: (2)
My name is Doctor Farge. You are in the Waldfriede Hospital. I'm the head neurologist here. You have been in an accident.
(BEAT) Can you tell me your name? Beat. Martin nods. Voice weak.
Martin... Harris. Doctor... Martin Harris... Farge exchanges a look with the nurse. To Martin...
Where are you staying? Is there anyone here, in Berlin, that we
Martin suddenly looks around, struggles to sit up.
My wife.. ?
(SUDDEN PANIC) Where's my wife? Liz...? Is she hurt? Where is she --?!
Doctor Harris, it's all right. The taxi you were in went into the river. You were the only passenger. Your heart stopped for six minutes. It is Thursday, November 27th. For four days you have been in a coma.
Thanksgiving... but my wife... she's in Berlin with me. Where is she? Why isn't she here?
We didn't find any identification with you, Doctor Harris... the driver, who saved your life, disappeared soon after the accident and no one else has come forward. I must apologize, but we had no idea who you were. It sinks in. Martin shakes his head wretchedly.
Oh, Jesus... Liz doesn't know... She'll... she'll be worried sick.
(CONTINUED)
9.
CONTINUED: (3)
Calm down, Doctor Harris, please. Where can we reach your wife? Does she have a cell phone?
Yes... yes, she does... it's... I can't remember... His voice trails off. A long beat. Farge asks gently:
Can you tell me what you do remember, Martin? Do you remember what day it is? A beat. Giving it thought... then:
Thanksgiving. You told me that. I remember... almost everything. But I don't know how I got here. Another beat. He shakes his head. Scared...
It's called retrograde amnesia. With severe trauma of this kind, memories get lost, or fractured. Most return... although it's unlikely you'll ever fully recall the events around your accident.
(BEAT) In the meantime, let us see if anyone has filed a report looking for a Martin Harris, okay?
Yes, yes... okay.
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DUSK
The light outside greying into dusk. On the TV, a German chef showing how Americans prepare Thanksgiving dinner. The NURSE comes in; starts to makes a note in Martin's chart.
My wife...? Meine Frau... ? Beat. The nurse shakes her head, apologetic. Martin watches a FAMILY, a wife and children, pass his door, visiting another patient. He turns his head, stares at his belongings...
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: . His clothes, Neatly laundered and folded, shoes beneath them. A Rolex with a stainless steel band, a ballpoint pen, a wad of CASH in a billfold. Three hundred or so Euros, a small blue BOOK. Crinkled, water-stained. Painful effort, he rises, reaches out and picks up the watch. It's 6.48. He turns the watch over. An engraving on the backplate: "E.H. to M.H. 7.18.03".
Snow falling outside a warmly lit living room. A fire crackles. Martin unwraps a present: The Watch. He turns it over, reads the engraving, smiles up at Liz across from him, beautiful, also smiling...
BACK IN THE HOSPITAL ROOM
.She gave it to me, our anniversary. The Nurse smiles, shakes her head, not understanding. Martin sets the watch down, picks up the little blue book beside the watch -- 'Horticus' -- the classic botanical reference. He flicks through it, reads the handwritten inscription: "For Martin, that he may discover the worlds inside..." A distant smile...
Martin as a child sits with his father in his father's study. His father shows him the illustrations in the new book. Martin's eyes are wide.
Martin starts to close the book, tracks some NUMBERS, handwritten on the endpaper. A beat. He shuts the book, glances at the TV, silently playing the local English language TV News: "Prince Fahad arrives in Berlin..." Biotech Forum logo. A striking 30-something Saudi man shakes hands with German dignitaries. A shot of the Hotel Imperial...
Hotel Imperial... I'm here for the Forum...
(FRANTIC) Doctor! Please, get the Doctor.
DOCTOR!!!
11.
INT. EISNENHOWER SUITE, HOTEL IMPERIAL
A high-end suite, empty, but with the signs of someone staying there. The phone rings... and rings...
INT. NEUROLOGICAL WARD, RECEPTION AREA - MINUTES LATER
Martin fully dressed. Farge has just hung up the phone, trying to reason with him.
-- you have to realize the risk --
Doctor, I've been gone for four days. My wife is out there, in a city she doesn't know. She must be terrified... I need to find her before --
-- Let me call the hotel again. We can leave a message...
Yes, fine, but look, I know her. She's looking for me. You're married, aren't you? What would you do? Farge tracks his own wedding band. A long beat. He sighs. Not happy about this at all.
This is my card. Any nausea, dizziness, difficulty with speech, you contact me immediately. Do you understand?
EXT. HOTEL IMPERIAL FORECOURT - NIGHT
A Taxi pulls up. Familiar biotechnology forum banner. Martin gets out, strong Deja Vu. Trying to orient.
INT. HOTEL IMPERIAL - CONTINUOUS
Eyes peeled for a possible glimpse of Liz, Martin heads for elevators. HOTEL SECURITY is everywhere. An entrance to a ballroom is flanked by guards, checking IDs and invitations.
12.
INT. 14TH FLOOR, HOTEL IMPERIAL - NIGHT
DING. Martin steps out into carpeted silence, makes his way down the hall to the 'Eisenhower Suite.' About to knock when he sees the door is ajar. A beat. Martin pushes it open...
.Liz?
INT. EISENHOWER SUITE - CONTINUOUS
. hallway leads into the spacious sitting room. No one there. Draped over a chair, Martin recognizes Liz's jacket. Martin smiles, blinks against tears, he's home. Sound of MOVEMENT from the BEDROOM DOOR...
Liz! I'm here, I... A HOTEL MAID appears from the bedroom door. Startled as she sees Martin...
My wife... Meine Frau... I'm looking for Mrs. Harris... She suddenly gets him... nodding, pointing down.
Ah. Entpfang... reception...
INT. HOTEL IMPERIAL, MEZZANINE LEVEL - NIGHT
World MUSIC. GUESTS flow in through the ornate doors. Martin moves among them. Significantly under-dressed in his tattered jacket, the sutured head injury. Almost at the doors... when a hotel SECURITY GUARD intercepts him.
Excuse me, sir. Do you have an invitation, sir?
No... I mean yes... Distracted, still looking at passing faces...
I don't have it with me. My name's Harris, Dr. Martin Harris. I'm on the list. My wife is Elizabeth Harris.
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
13.
CONTINUED:
I'm trying to find her. I've been in the hospital. As the guard checks a screen, a crop-haired man in a cheap suit nearby tracks them: HERR STRAUSS, head of hotel security. He approaches, also checks the screen as the guard speaks to him quietly in German.
Dr. Harris. Do you have any other identification? Passport? Drivers license?
I've already told this gentleman, I've been in the hospital. I was in an accident... Martin sees someone through the crowd...
a striking, intense-looking man with dark, wiry hair, a designer laptop bag slung over his shoulder. Smiling, arms around his two ten year old daughters, twin GIRLS, prettily dressed. Immediately the center of attention. People moving forward to meet him. Flashguns POP... MARTIN, raises his hand, calling out:
Professor Bressler! Words lost in the noise. Martin pushes toward him. But:
I'm sorry, sir...