"PSYCHO"
"PSYCHO"
By
Joseph Stefano
Based on the novel by Robert Bloch
REVISED December 1, 1959
FADE IN:
EXT. PHOENIX, ARIZONA - (DAY) - HELICOPTER SHOT
Above Midtown section of the city. It is early afternoon, a
hot mid-summer day. The city is sun-sunblanched white and
its drifted-up noises are muted in blanched their own echoes.
We fly low, heading in a downtown direction, passing over
traffic-clogged streets, parking lots, white business
buildings, neatly patterned residential districts. As we
approach downtown section, the character of the city begins
to change. It is darker and shabby with age and industry. We
see railroad tracks, smokestacks, wholesale fruit-and-
vegetable markets, old municipal buildings, empty lots.
vegetable The very geography seems to give us a climate of
nefariousness, of back-doorness, dark and shadowy. And secret.
We fly lower and faster now, as if seeking out a specific
location. A skinny, high old hotel comes into view. On its
exposed brick side great painted letters advertise "Transients-
Low Weekly Rates-Radio in Every Room." We pause long enough
to establish the shoddy character of this hotel. Its open,
curtainless windows, its silent resigned look so
characteristic of such hole-and-corner hotels. We move forward
with purposefulness and-toward a certain window. The sash is
raised as high as it can go, but the shade is pulled down to
three or four inches of the inside sill, as if the occupants
of the room within wanted privacy but needed air. We are
close now, so that only the lower half of the window frame
is in shot. No sounds come from within the room.
Suddenly, we tip downward, go to the narrow space between
shade and sill, peep into the room.
A young woman is stretched out on the mussed bed. She wears
a full slip, stockings, no shoes. She lies in and attitude
of physical relaxation, but her face, seen in the dimness of
the room, betrays a certain inner-tension, worrisome
conflicts. She is MARY CRANE, an tension, attractive girl
nearing the end of her twenties and her rope.
A man stands beside the bed, only the lower half of his figure
visible. We hold on this tableau for a long moment, then
start forward. As we pass under the window shade,
CUT TO:
INT. THE HOTEL ROOM - (DAY)
A small room, a slow fan buzzing on a shelf above the narrow
bed. A card of hotel rules is pasted on the mirror above the
bureau. An unopened suitcase and a woman's large, straw open-
top handbag are on the bureau.
On the table beside the bed there are a container of Coco-
Cola and an unwrapped, untouched egg-salad sandwich. There
is no radio.
The man standing by the bed, wearing only trousers, T-shirt
and sox, is SAM LOOMIS, a good-looking, sensual shirt man
with warm humorous eyes and a compelling smile. He is blotting
his neck and face with a thin towel, and is staring down at
Mary, a small sweet smile playing about his mouth. Mary keeps
her face turned away from him.
After a moment, Sam drops the towel, sits on the bed, leans
over and takes Mary into his arms, kisses her long and warmly,
holds her with a firm possessiveness. The kiss is disturbed
and finally interrupted by the buzzing closeness of an
inconsiderate fly. Sam smiles, pulls away enough to allow
Mary to relax again against the pillow. He studies her, frowns
at her unresponsiveness, then speaks in a low, intimate,
playful voice.
SAM
Never did eat your lunch, did you.
Mary looks at his smile, has to respond, pulls him to her,
kisses him. Then, and without breaking the kiss, she swings
her legs over the side of the bed, toe-searches around, finds
her shoes, slips her feet into searches them. And finally
pulls away and sits up.
MARY
I better get back to the office.
These extended lunch hours give my
boss excess acid.
She rises, goes to the bureau, takes a pair of small earrings
out of her bag, begins putting them on, not bothering or
perhaps not wanting to look at herself in the mirror. Sam
watches her, concerned but unable to inhibit his cheery,
humorous good mood. Throughout remainder of this scene, they
occupy themselves with dressing, hair-combing, etc.
SAM
Call your boss and tell him you're
taking the rest of the afternoon
off. It's Friday anyway... and hot.
MARY
(soft sarcasm)
What do I do with my free afternoon,
walk you to the airport?
SAM
(meaningfully)
We could laze around here a while
longer.
MARY
Checking out time is three P.M. Hotels
of this sort aren't interested in
you when you come in, but when your
time's up...
(a small anguish)
Sam, I hate having to be with you in
a place like this.
SAM
I've heard of married couples who
deliberately spend occasional nights
in cheap hotels. They say it...
MARY
(interrupting)
When you're married you can do a lot
of things deliberately.
SAM
You sure talk like a girl who's been
married.
MARY
Sam!
SAM
I'm sorry, Mary.
(after a moment)
My old Dad used to say 'when you
can't change a situation, laugh at
it.' Nothing ridicules a thing like
laughing at it.
MARY
I've lost my girlish laughter.
SAM
(observing)
The only girlish thing you have lost.
MARY
(a meaningful quiet,
then, with difficulty:)
Sam. This is the last time.
SAM
For what?
MARY
This! Meeting you in secret so we
can be... secretive! You come down
here on business trips and we steal
lunch hours and... I wish you wouldn't
even come.
SAM
Okay. What do we do instead, write
each other lurid love letters?
MARY
(about to argue, then
turning away)
I haven't time to argue. I'm a working
girl.
SAM
And I'm a working man! We're a regular
working-class tragedy!
(he laughs)
MARY
It is tragic! Or it will be... if we
go on meeting in shabby hotels
whenever you can find a tax-deductible
excuse for flying down deductible
here...
SAM
(interrupting,
seriously)
You can't laugh at it, huh?
MARY
Can you?
SAM
Sure. It's like laughing through a
broken jaw, but...
He breaks off, his cheeriness dissolved, goes to the window,
tries to raise the shade. It sticks. He pulls at it.
It comes down entirely, and the hot sun glares into the room,
revealing it in all its shabbiness and sordidness as if
corroborating Mary's words and attitude. Sam kicks at the
fallen shade, laughs in frustration, grabs on to his humor
again.
SAM
And besides, when you say I make tax-
deductible excuses you make me out a
criminal.
MARY
(having to smile)
You couldn't be a criminal if you
committed a major crime.
SAM
I wish I were. Not an active criminal
but... a nice guy with the conscience
of a criminal.
(goes close to mary,
touches her)
Next best thing to no conscience at
all.
MARY
(pulling away)
I have to go, Sam.
SAM
I can come down next week.
MARY
No.
SAM
Not even just to see you, to have
lunch... in public?
MARY
We can see each other, we can even
have dinner... but respectably, in
my house with my mother's picture on
the mantel and my sister helping me
broil a big steak for three!
SAM
And after the steak... do we send
Sister to the movies and turn Mama's
picture to the wall?
MARY
Sam! No!
SAM
(after a pause, simply)
All right.
She stares at him, surprised at his willingness to continue
the affair on her terms, as girls are so often surprised
when they discover men will continue to want them even after
the sexual bait has been pulled in. Sam smiles reassuringly,
places his hands gently on her arms, speaks with gentle and
simple sincerity.
SAM
Mary, whenever it's possible, tax-
deductible or not, I want to see
deductible you. And under any
conditions.
(a smile)
Even respectability.
MARY
You make respectability sound...
disrespectful.
SAM
(brightly)
I'm all for it! It requires patience
and temperance and a lot of sweating-
out... otherwise, though, it's only
hard work.
(a pause)
But if I can see you, touch you even
as simply as this... I won't mind.
He moves away and again the weight of his pain and problems
crushes away his good humor. There is a quiet moment.
SAM
I'm fed up with sweating for people
who aren't there. I sweat to pay off
my father's debts... and he's in his
grave... I sweat to pay my ex-wife
alimony, and she's living on the
other side of the world somewhere.
MARY
(a smile)
I pay, too. They also pay who meet
in hotel rooms.
SAM
A couple of years and the debts will
be paid off. And if she ever re-
marries, the alimony stops... and
then...
MARY
I haven't even been married once
yet!
SAM
Yeah, but when you do... you'll swing.
MARY
(smiling, then with a
terrible urgency)
Sam, let's go get married.
SAM
And live with me in a storeroom behind
a hardware store in Fairvale. We'll
have a lot of laughs. When I send my
ex-wife her money, you can lick the
stamps.
MARY
(a deep desperation)
I'll lick the stamps.
He looks at her, long, pulls her close, kisses her lightly,
looks out the window and stares at the wide sky.
SAM
You know what I'd like? A clear,
empty sky... and a plane, and us in
it... and somewhere a private island
for sale, where we can run around
without our... shoes on. And the
wherewithal to buy what I'd like.
(he moves away,
suddenly serious)
Mary, you want to cut this off, go
out and find yourself someone
available.
MARY
I'm thinking of it.
SAM
(a cheerful shout)
How can you even think a thing like
that!
MARY
(picking up handbag,
starting for door)
Don't miss your plane.
SAM
Hey, we can leave together can't we?
MARY
(at door)
I'm late... and you have to put your
shoes on.
Mary goes out quickly, closing door behind her. As Sam stares
down at his shoeless feet,
CUT TO:
EXT. DOWNTOWN STREET - (DAY) - HIGH ANGLE
Shooting down at hotel entrance. Mary comes out, walks quickly
to a parked cab, gets in. The cab zooms up the awful street.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. LOWERY REAL ESTATE OFFICE - (DAY)
A small, moderately successful office off the main street. A
cab pulls up at the curb. We see Mary get out of cab, pay
driver, cross pavement to the office door.
INT. OUTER OFFICE - (DAY)
Mary enters office, crosses to her desk, sits down, rubs her
temples, finally looks over at Caroline, a girl in the last
of her teens.
MARY
Isn't Mr. Lowery back from lunch?
CAROLINE
(a high, bright, eager-
to-talk voice laced
to-with a vague Texan
accent)
He's lunching with the man who's
buying the Harris Street property,
you know, that oil lease man... so
that's why he's late.
(a pause, then, as
Mary does not respond
to the pointed thrust)
You getting a headache?
MARY
It'll pass. Headaches are like
resolutions... you forget them soon
as they stop hurting.
CAROLINE
You got aspirins? I have something...
not aspirins, but
(cheerfully takes
bottle of pills out
of desk drawer)
my mother's doctor gave these to me
the day of my wedding.
(laughs)
Teddy was furious when he found out
I'd taken tranquilizers!
She rises, starts for Mary's desk, pills in hand.
MARY
Were there any calls?
CAROLINE
Teddy called. Me... And my mother
called to see if Teddy called. Oh,
and your sister called to say she's
going to Tucson to do some buying
and she'll be gone the whole weekend
and...
She breaks off, distracted by the SOUND of the door opening.
MR. LOWERY and his oil-lease client, TOM CASSIDY enter the
office. Lowery is a pleasant, worried-faced man, big and a
trifle pompous. Cassidy is very faced loud and has a lunch-
hour load on. He is a gross man, exuding a kind of pitiful
vulgarity.
CASSIDY
Wow! Hot as fresh milk! You girls
should get your boss to air-condition
you up. He can afford it today.
Lowery flashes an embarrassed smile at Mary, tries to lead
Cassidy toward the private office.
LOWERY
Mary, will you get those copies of
the deed ready for Mr. Cassidy.
Cassidy pauses beside Mary's desk, hooks a haunch onto the
desktop, smiles a wet smile at Mary.
CASSIDY
Tomorrow's the day! My sweet little
girl...
(laughs as Mary looks
up at him)
Not you, my daughter! A baby, and
tomorrow she stands up there and
gets her sweet self married away
from me!
(pulling out wallet)
I want you to look at my baby.
Eighteen years old... and she's never
had an unhappy day in any one of
those years!
(flashes photo)
Mary glances, cannot bring herself to smile or make some
remark, continues sorting out the deed copies, tries to ignore
the man's hot-breath closeness.
LOWERY
Come on, Tom, my office is air-
conditioned.
CASSIDY
(ignoring Lowery)
You know what I do with unhappiness?
I buy it off! You unhappy?
MARY
Not inordinately.
(puts deed copy into
Cassidy's too-close
hand)
CASSIDY
I'm buying this house for my baby's
wedding present. Forty thousand
dollars, cash! Now that ain't buying
happiness, that's buying off
unhappiness! That penniless punk
she's marryin'...
(laughs)
Probably a good kid... it's just
that I hate him.
(looks at deed)
Yup! Forty thousand, says here...
(to Lowery)
Casharoonie!
He takes out of his inside pocket, two separate bundles of
new $100 bills and throws them onto the desk, under Mary's
nose. Caroline's eyes go wide at the sight of the glorious
green bundles of bills, and she comes close to the desk.
Cassidy leans terribly close to Mary, flicks through the
bills, laughs wickedly.
CASSIDY
I never carry more than I can afford
to lose!
(closer to Mary)
Count 'em!
LOWERY
(shocked, worried)
Tom... cash transactions of this
size! Most irregular...
CASSIDY
So what? It's my private money!
(laughs, winks, elbows
Lowery)
And now it's yours.
CAROLINE
(staring at the money)
I declare!
CASSIDY
(whispering)
I don't! That's how I'm able to keep
it!
(laughs)
LOWERY
(hastily interrupting)
Suppose we just put this in the safe
and then Monday morning when you're
feeling good...
CASSIDY
Speakin' of feeling good, where's
that bottle you said you had in your
desk...
(laughs, as if having
given away Lowery's
secret)
Oops!
(to Mary, patting her
arm)
Usually I can keep my mouth shut!
He rises, reels toward Lowery's office, pauses, turns, speaks
to Mary, meaningfully.
CASSIDY
Honest. I can keep any private
transaction a secret... any pri....
(stopped by Mary's
cold gaze)
Lowery! I'm dyin' of thirstaroonie!
Lowery starts after him, pauses, turns to Mary. Cassidy has
gone into Lower's office.
LOWERY
(quietly)
I don't even want it in the office
over the weekend. Put it in the safe
deposit box, at the bank, Mary. And
we'll get him to give us a check on
Monday - instead.
He starts quickly away when it looks like Cassidy is going
to come and pull him bodily into the office. When the men
are gone and the door is closed, Caroline picks up a bundle,
smiles at it.
CAROLINE
He was flirting with you. I guess he
noticed my wedding ring.
Mary has put one bundle into a large envelope and takes the
other from Caroline. When the bills are away, she puts the
filled envelope in her handbag, notices the remaining deed
copies on her desk, picks them up, goes to the private office
door, knocks, starts to open door as:
LOWERY (O.S.)
Come in.
INT. LOWERY'S PRIVATE OFFICE - (DAY)
Mary opens door, looks in. Cassidy is drinking from a large
tumbler, winks at her without pausing in his drinking. Mary
remains on threshold a moment, then crosses to the desk,
talking as she goes.
MARY
The copies. Mr. Lowery, if you don't
mind, I'd like to go right on home
after the bank. I have a slight...
CASSIDY
You go right home! Me and your boss
are going out to get ourselves a
little drinkin' done!
(to Lowery)
Right?
LOWERY
(to Mary)
Of course. You feeling ill?
MARY
A headache.
CASSIDY
You need a week-end in Las Vegas...
playground of the world!
MARY
I'm going to spend this week-end in
bed.
(starts out)
CASSIDY
(to Lowery)
Only playground that beats Las Vegas!
Mary goes back out into the outer office, closes door.
INT. OUTER OFFICE - (DAY)
Mary goes to her desk, takes the handbag, checks to make
sure the money-filled envelope is tucked well down into it.
During this:
CAROLINE
Aren't you going to take the pills?
(as Mary shakes her
head)
They'll knock that headache out.
MARY
I don't need pills... just sleep.
She goes to the door.
DISSOLVE:
INT. MARY'S BEDROOM - (DAY)
A double bed in the foreground. We just see the far side as
the CAMERA SHOOTS across. Mary enters the scene, clad only
in her slip. Perhaps she is about to get into bed. Behind
her is an open closet, but too dark inside for us to see any
contents. As Mary turns to the closet the CAMERA LOWERS to
show a close view of the $40,000 in the envelope on our side
of the bed.
Mary takes a dress from the closet and starts to put it on
as the CAMERA RETREATS to reveal a packed but not yet closed
suitcase also on the bed. Mary zips up her dress and then
brings some final garments from the closet.
She comes around to the suitcase and puts them on the top.
Mary works with haste and in tension, as if acting on an
impulse which might vanish as quickly as it came.
The suitcase filled now, she checks around the room, then
takes her handbag to the bed, puts in the money-filled
envelope, and then slams the suitcase shut. Then filled she
looks at her small bedroom desk, goes to it, removes a small
file-envelope from one of the drawers. It is one of those
brown envelopes in which one keeps important papers and
policies and certificates. She checks its contents briefly,
puts it on the bed, opens another desk drawer, takes out her
bank book, tosses it on the bed. Then she packs both the
file-envelope and the bank book, into her handbag, takes one
quick last look around the room, picks up the handbag and
the suitcase and goes out of the room.
CUT TO:
EXT. MARY'S GARAGE - (DAY)
A two-car garage. One car is gone. Mary's car is parked in
the driveway. The CAMERA is low enough so that we can easily
read the Arizona number plate in the foreground.
Mary comes out of house, starts for the trunk, intending to
put the suitcase in, changes her mind, places the suitcase
and her handbag on the front seat, gets in, starts the car,
begins to back out of driveway.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. MAIN STREET IN MIDTOWN PHOENIX - (DAY)
We are close on Mary's car, shooting in at her troubled,
guilty face. She seems to be driving with that excess care
of one who does not wish to be stopped for a minor traffic
irregularity. She stops for a red light at a main
intersection.
FROM MARY'S VIEWPOINT - (DAY)
We see Lowery and Cassidy crossing the street, passing right
in front of Mary's car.
MARY'S CAR - (DAY)
Mary freezes.
EXT. MAIN STREET IN MIDTOWN PHOENIX - (DAY)
Cassidy, glancing into car, sees Mary, lets out a cheery
exclamation, elbows Lowery. Lowery turns, sees Mary, smiles
pleasantly, pulls Cassidy on.
MARY'S CAR - (DAY)
Mary watches the entire exchange with a look of stony horror
on her face.
EXT. MAIN STREET IN MIDTOWN PHOENIX - (DAY)
Now we look closely at Lowery. As he reaches the curb, a
small confusion brightens his face. He remembers that Mary
intended to "spend the weekend in bed." He considers,
curiously, turns, looks back at her, a slight frown on his
face.
MARY'S CAR - (DAY)
Mary sees the pause and the look.
EXT. MAIN STREET IN MIDTOWN PHOENIX - (DAY)
For a moment it even looks as if Lowery might be meaning to
cross back to the car.
MARY'S CAR - (DAY)
Mary's tension is unbearable. And at that moment we hear the
shrill shriek of the traffic cop's whistle.
Mary zooms the car away.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. HIGHWAY - (DAY)
Mary in car, driving, safely away from town. Her look is
less tense now, and more purposeful. After a moment, she
checks the fuel gauge, frowns, looks along highway for a gas
station.
FAST DISSOLVE TO:
MARY'S CAR - (DAY)
Approaching and leaving city limits.
MARY - (DAY)
Looks at gas gauge.
C.U. GAS GAUGE - (DAY)
EXT. A GAS STATION - (DAY)
We see Mary's car drive in, come to a stop. There are no
other cars about, this being a gas station off the main
highway, and the attendant is obviously in the shack. Mary
looks worried about having to make this stop, keeps her face
turned away from the shack, not wishing it to be seen.
No one comes and for a moment Mary considers driving on, as
if the emptiness of the station were a warning, an omen that
she should listen to. But the gas registers almost empty.
She has to blow her horn.
A YOUNG MAN comes out of the shack, starts toward her car.
At that moment, we HEAR the RINGING of the TELEPHONE in the
shack. The Attendant walks a few steps further, toward Mary's
car, then decides to go back and answer the phone. The phone's
insistent ringing unnerves Mary.
She starts her car, zooms off.
We see the Attendant, phone in hand, in the doorway of shack.
He looks after the departing car with little or no expression.
CAR
The car grows smaller as it races up the road. The sun is
setting. There is something vaguely ominous about the
darkening sky into which the car seems to be disappearing.
DISSOLVE TO:
MARY IN CAR - (NIGHT)
The oncoming headlights hurt Mary's eyes. She is getting
sleepy and her vision is blurring. Her eyes close,
involuntarily, snap open again. She stretches than wide, as
if forcing them to stay open. The oncoming lights seem to
glare to a point beyond endurance. She murmurs "Sam - Sam."
LONG LAP DISSOLVE:
EXT. ROAD SHOULDER - (DAWN)
We see Mary's car, dim in the early dawn, tilted on the soft
shoulder of the road, looking somehow sad and pathetic, like
a child's thrown-away toy. And from this angle it would appear
that the car is empty.
After a moment, during which there are no other vehicles
passing, we see, coming from the far distance, a HIGHWAY
PATROLMAN in a patrol car. He passes Mary's car, notes its
apparent emptiness, U-turns, comes back up behind the car.
He gets out and approaches the driver's side window.
EXT. MARY'S CAR - (DAWN)
The Patrolman looks down into the car.
INT. CAR (DAWN) FROM HIS VIEWPOINT
Mary turns with a start, sits up, is startled and unnerved
by the sight of the Patrolman, and, as if by automatic reflex,
turns the ignition and presses down on the starter.
EXT. CAR (DAWN)
The Patrolman holds up his hand.
PATROLMAN
(startled)
Hold it there!
Mary slams down on the brake, tries to pull herself together.
The Patrolman raps again, less gently.
Reluctantly, Mary rolls down the window. The Patrolman studies
her for a moment.
PATROLMAN
In quite a hurry.
MARY
Yes.
(because he seems to
be awaiting an
explanation)
I didn't mean to sleep so long. I
was afraid I'd have an accident last
night, from sleepiness... so I decided
to pull over...
PATROLMAN
You slept here all night?
MARY
(a faint edge of
defensiveness)
Yes. As I said, I couldn't keep my
eyes...
PATROLMAN
(mere concern)
There are plenty of motels in this
area. You should have... I mean,
just to be safe...
MARY
I didn't intend to sleep all night!
I just pulled over... have I broken
any laws?
PATROLMAN
No, m'am.
MARY
Then I'm free to go...?
PATROLMAN
(a pause)
Is anything wrong?
MARY
Of course not! Am I acting as if...
something's wrong?
PATROLMAN
(almost a smile)
Frankly, yes.
MARY
Please... I'd like to go...
PATROLMAN
Is there?
MARY
Is there what?
(not waiting for an
answer)
I've told you there's nothing wrong...
except that I'm in a hurry and you're
taking up my time...
PATROLMAN
(interrupting, sternly)
Now wait just a moment! Turn your
motor off, please.
Mary seems about to object, thinks better of it, turns off
the ignition.
PATROLMAN
In the course of my duty, I never
"take up" anyone's time, whether
it's to give a warning, or a ticket,
or help! Believe that, M'am.
(a little softer)
Now if you woke up on the wrong side
of... the car seat, that's one thing.
But when you act as if I've just
placed you under arrest...
MARY
I'm sorry.
PATROLMAN
No need to apologize...
Mary starts the car, her face turned as if she wishes the
matter were all settled and the Patrolman had already gone.
The Patrolman isn't exactly one of those civil servants who
demands a thank-you, but he does feel her manner is a bit
too abrupt. He calls:
PATROLMAN
Wait a minute!
MARY
(jamming down the
brake)
Now what?
The Patrolman gazes at her a moment, then:
PATROLMAN
May I see your license?
MARY
Why?
PATROLMAN
Please.
Mary pulls her handbag up from the floor, where she'd placed
it when she stretched out for sleep. She puts her hand in
it, rummages for her wallet, cannot find it.
The Patrolman is staring at her. She glances at him nervously,
pokes in her bag a bit more, sighs, realizes she'll have to
remove some of its contents. Nervously, badly controlling
her fear, she takes out the money-filled envelope, and then
the important papers envelope, filled then a couple of other
items, places them on the seat, finally finds her wallet,
opens it, hands it to him. He looks at the wallet, then at
the car.
EXT. ROAD SHOULDER - (DAWN)
The Patrolman walks around to the front of the car, checks
the license plate, and returns.
INT. MARY'S CAR - (DAWN)
The Patrolman peers in, checks the car registration on the
steering wheel, returns Mary's wallet.
She takes it, looks at him for a flicker of a moment.
He says nothing. She starts ahead, fast.
EXT. ROAD SHOULDER - (DAWN)
The Patrolman stares after Mary as she drives off, then starts
back to his automobile.
MARY IN CAR - (DAWN)
She is quite shaken, realizes she caused herself a great
deal of trouble and placed herself in unnecessary danger.
She is disturbed and angry and frightened at her inability
to act normally under the pressure of guilt. As she drives,
she glances into her rear-view mirror.
MARY'S REAR-VIEW MIRROR - (DAWN)
The Patrolman is following in his automobile, keeping behind
her at a matched speed.
MARY IN CAR - (DAWN)
She glances out at her surroundings.
MARY'S POV - (DAWN)
The Freeway ahead.
EXT. MARY'S CAR - (DAWN)
She suddenly turns off the highway.
MARY IN CAR - (DAWN)
She checks her mirror.
MARY'S REAR-VIEW MIRROR - (DAWN)
The Patrolman is no longer following, has not turned off
after her.
MARY IN CAR - (DAWN)
She breathes a sigh of relief, thinks a moment, makes a quick
decision.
DISSOLVE:
EXT. USED CAR LOT - (DAY)
The big sign reads "California Charlie - Automobile Paradise."
We see Mary's car drive onto the lot and stop. Mary gets out
of the car, glances toward the lot office, turns her attention
to the line of cars, notice the California licence plates on
all of them. The CAR DEALER calls out from his office:
CAR DEALER
With you in a second!
Mary nods, starts walking along the line of cars as if making
a selection. Her eye is caught by the iron newspaper stand
on the corner, just outside the lot.
She stares at the papers, turns away, as if what she is
fearing would have to be impossible, then, having to satisfy
herself, goes to the stand, drops a dime in the iron slot,
picks up a LOS ANGELES newspaper, starts back into the car
lot as she glances worried at the front page. As she goes,
we see, coming up the street toward the lot, the same
PATROLMAN. He sees Mary, slows, swerves over to the opposite
side of the street, stops by the curb. Mary, engrossed in
the newspaper, and walking back ease the lot, does not see
the Patrolman.
The car dealer is out on the lot now, standing and waiting
for Mary. As she approaches, lost in her newspaper, he smiles.
CAR DEALER
I'm in no mood for trouble!
MARY
(glancing up, thrown
for a moment)
What?
CAR DEALER
(cheerfully)
There's an old saying, "First customer
of the day is always the most
trouble!" But like I said, I'm in no
mood for it so I'm just going to
treat you so fair and square you
won't have one human reason to give
me...
MARY
(interrupting)
Can I trade in my car and take
another?
CAR DEALER
You can do anything you've a mind
to... and bein' a woman, you will!
(chin-indicating her
car)
That yours?
MARY
Yes, it's... nothing wrong with it,
I'm just...
CAR DEALER
Sick of the sight of it!
(laughs)
Well, suppose you look around for
something that strikes your eyes and
meanwhile I'll have my mechanic give
yours the once over and... want some
coffee? I was just about...
MARY
No. Thank you. I'm in... a hurry. I
just want to make a change and
start...
She stops suddenly, almost with a gasp. She has seen the
Patrolman.
THE PATROLMAN - MARY'S POV - (DAY)
He is staring over at her, his face dispassionate.
EXT. USED CAR LOT - (DAY)
Mary has to force herself to look away.
CAR DEALER
One thing people never ought to be
when they're buying a used car is in
a hurry!
(starting away toward
her car)
But like I said, too nice a day for
arguing. I'll just shoot this into
the garage.
He starts into Mary's car. She looks at him, in near panic,
wanting to skip the whole thing. Torn, wondering if the
presence of the Patrolman doesn't negate the value of changing
cars, wondering how she can get away, wondering if she'll be
followed, or if the Patrolman will go away if she does stay
here.
All these panic-fears rush her mind and she can do nothing.
The Car Dealer has driven her car into the garage. She stands
in the middle of the lot, feeling like a shooting target.
She looks toward the garage.
THE GARAGE - MARY'S POV - (DAY)
Mary's car is in it.
EXT. USED CAR LOT - (DAY)
Mary decides she cannot back out now without arousing further
suspicion, is compelled to look again at the Patrolman.
THE PATROLMAN - MARY'S POV - (DAY)
He still watches. With a self-angry sigh of resignment, she
goes to a close car, looks at it. The Car Dealer is returning.
CAR DEALER
That's the one I'd've picked for you
myself!
MARY
How much?
CAR DEALER
Go ahead! Spin it around the block.
Now I know you don't know anything
about engine condition, but you can
feel, can't you... and it's all in
the feel, believe me, you feel that
one around the block...
MARY
It looks fine. How much will it be,
with my car...?
CAR DEALER
You mean you don't want the usual
day and a half to think it over?
(laughs)
You are in a hurry! Somebody chasin'
you?
MARY
Of course not. Please.
CAR DEALER
Well... heck, this is the first time
I ever saw the customer high-pressure
the salesman!
(laughs, sees she is
in no mood for it)
I'd figure roughly...
(looks at the car,
then back at the
garage)
...your car plus five hundred.
MARY
Five hundred.
CAR DEALER
Aha! Always got time to argue money,
huh...?
MARY
All right.
As the car dealer looks at her in amazement, she reaches
into her bag, feels the money-filled envelope, pauses.
CAR DEALER
(slowly)
I take it... you can prove that car's
yours... I mean, out of state and
all... got your pink slip and your...
MARY
I think I have the necessary papers.
Is there a Ladies Room...
CAR DEALER
In the building ...
(indicates, continues
to stare quietly)
Mary starts for the building, glancing
once in the direction of the
Patrolman.
THE PATROLMAN - MARY'S POV - (DAY)
He still sits, his motor throbbing, his face quiet.
EXT. THE USED CAR LOT - (DAY)
Mary goes into the office building.
CUT TO:
INT. LADIES ROOM - (DAY)
Mary enters, locks door, takes envelope out of her handbag,
extracts one bundle of bills from the envelope, counts off
five, puts the bundle back into the envelope and the envelope
back into the bag. Then she remembers, takes out the important
papers envelope, goes through it, finds several papers having
to do with her car, takes them all out, puts back the
envelope, starts out of the ladies Room.
CUT TO:
EXT. THE USED CAR LOT - (DAY)
The Car Dealer has moved the car of her choice out of the
line. It stands in the clearing.
CAR DEALER
(too cheerfully)
I think you'd better give it a trial
spin. Don't want any bad word of
mouth about California Charlie.
MARY
I'd really rather not. Please. Can't
we just settle this and...
CAR DEALER
I'll be perfectly honest with you,
Ma'am. It's not that I don't trust
you, but...
MARY
(interrupting)
But what? Is there anything so
terribly wrong about... making a
decision and wanting to hurry? Do
you think I've stolen... my car?
CAR DEALER
No, M'am. I was only about to say,
I've sent my mechanic out to give
your car a little test... that's
all.
MARY
(handing him the
ownership papers and
the new bills)
I'd like to be ready when he gets
back.
CAR DEALER
Okay. If you'll come along...
He starts toward the office building. Mary follows, closely,
anxiously. She glances, sees:
THE PATROLMAN - MARY'S POV - (DAY)
He is still at the far curb.
EXT. USED CAR LOT - (DAY)
The Car Dealer goes into his office. Mary follows.
THE PATROLMAN - (DAY)
A second later, he starts his automobile, checks traffic,
comes across the street, slowly, and drives onto the lot. He
pauses a moment, then drives across the lot, passing the
office, going on to the other exit, stops there as Mary's
car is driven back onto the lot.
The MECHANIC stops Mary's car, hops out, waves to the
Patrolman. The Patrolman waves back, goes on a bit until he
is behind Mary's car, stops again, looks over at the office.
In a moment, Mary comes out, hurries across to her new car,
gets in, starts the motor. The Mechanic yells:
MECHANIC
Hey! Miss?
Mary pauses, turns, sees the Patrolman, then the Mechanic.
Her face goes white. She doesn't know which man called her.
Then the Mechanic waves, starts forward with her suitcase.
MARY
(as Mechanic reaches
car)
Just put it right in here, please...
beside me.
The Mechanic smiles, throws the suitcase in. Mary zooms off.
As she drives out of lot we see the Mechanic, the Car Dealer
and the Patrolman all looking after her.
DISSOLVE TO:
MARY IN NEW CAR ON ROUTE
Mary is driving tensely. She checks the rear-view mirror, is
more shocked than pleased when she sees...
MARY'S REAR-VIEW MIRROR
No sign of the Patrolman.
MARY IN NEW CAR ON ROUTE
She turns her face, looks out at the highway.
ROUTE 99 - MARY'S POV
It is heavy with traffic.
MARY IN NEW CAR ON ROUTE
Again she checks the mirror and although...
MARY'S REAR-VIEW MIRROR
There is still no sign of the Patrolman.
MARY IN NEW CAR ON ROUTE
She cannot relax or feel safe, cannot convince herself that
nothing will come of the man's watching and suspicions.
CAMERA IS CLOSE on Mary's face now, recording her anxiety,
her fears. Her guilt shines bright in her eyes and she is a
person unaccustomed to containing this much guilt in this
realistic a situation. Suddenly, we hear the SOUND of the
Used Car Dealer's laugh, hear it as clearly as Mary hears it
in her imagination. The "imagined voice" we hear is actually
the voice of the Car Dealer:
CAR DEALER'S VOICE
Heck, Officer, that was the first
time I ever saw the Customer high-
pressure the Salesman! Somebody
chasing her?
PATROLMAN'S VOICE
I better have a look at those papers,
Charlie.
CAR DEALER'S VOICE
She look like a wrong-one to you?
PATROLMAN'S VOICE
Acted like one.
Mary blinks, shakes her head, as if trying to shake away
these voices of her imagination. She checks the rear-view
mirror.
MARY'S REAR-VIEW MIRROR
Still no sight of the Patrolman.
MARY IN NEW CAR
She tries to force herself to relax, almost succeeds when
she is sprung to tension again by....
EXT. HIGHWAY
The sight of a police car. As she drives past, we hear the
squeaky, unintelligible voice coming over the car radio.
Mary zooms down on the gas, whizzes ahead.
DISSOLVE THROUGH TO:
EXT. HIGHWAY 99 - LONG SHOT
Mary's car dashing along.
DISSOLVE TO:
MARY IN NEW CAR
Mary looks weary, tired with strain and with hard driving.
Her eyes are heavy with worry and deep thought.
OUT THE WINDSHIELD
We can see that it is much later in the day, almost dusk.
MARY IN NEW CAR
We HEAR the sound of an agitated BUZZ of an intercom system,
a sound emanating from Mary's imagination.
After the second BUZZ, we HEAR the voice of Caroline.
CAROLINE'S VOICE
Yes, Mr. Lowery.
LOWERY'S VOICE
(a worried tone)
Caroline...? Mary still isn't in?
CAROLINE'S VOICE
No, Mr. Lowery... but then she's
always a bit late on Monday mornings.
LOWERY'S VOICE
Buzz me the minute she comes in.
Again Mary shakes her head, forces herself to stop hearing
these "invented" scenes of her imagination.
EXT. HIGHWAY
Now we cut to the view of the road, from Mary's viewpoint.
Darkness of evening is coming. In the dim twilight we see
the neon sign of roadside restaurants and gas stations
beginning to blaze on.
INT. MARY'S NEW CAR
Back on Mary's face, and after a moment, the imagined voices
again:
LOWERY'S VOICE
Call her sister! If no one's answering
at the house....
CAROLINE'S VOICE
I called her sister, Mr. Lowery,
where she works, the Music Makers
Music Store, you know? And she doesn't
know where Mary is any more than we
do.
LOWERY'S VOICE
You better run out to the house.
She may be... unable to answer the
phone...
CAROLINE'S VOICE
Her sister's going to do that. She's
as worried as we are.
A flush of painful guilt and regret rises up in Mary's face.
She closes her eyes for one tight swift moment.
EXT. HIGHWAY
We cut again to the highway. The first oncoming headlights
slash at the windshield.
INT. MARY'S NEW CAR
Cutting back to Mary, we can sense by the tense muscles of
her face that she is driving faster. The oncoming headlights
blurt at her.
Suddenly we HEAR Lowery's voice, loud now and frightened, as
if the anxiety in the man's voice was strong enough to break
through Mary's effort to keep her mind silent and her
imagination blank.
LOWERY'S VOICE
No! I haven't the faintest idea. As
I said, I last saw your sister when
she left this office on Friday...
she said she didn't feel well and
wanted to leave early and I said she
could. And that was the last I saw...
(a pause, a thought)
...wait a minute, I did see her, an
hour or so later, driving...
(a pause, then with
solemn fear)
Ah, I think you'd better come over
here to my office. Quick.
(a pause, a click)
Caroline, get Mr. Cassidy for me.
EXT. HIGHWAY
It is completely dark now, night.
INT. MARY'S NEW CAR
We cut back to her face.
LOWERY'S VOICE
After all, Cassidy, I told you...
all that cash... I'm not taking the
responsibility... Oh, for heaven's
sake, a girl works for you for ten
years, you trust her! All right,
yes, you better come over.
FROM MARY'S VIEWPOINT
EXT. THE ROAD AHEAD INT. MARY'S NEW CAR
Fast cut back to Mary's face. Oncoming headlights throw a
blinding light across her features.
CASSIDY'S VOICE
(undrunk, sharp with
rage)
Well I ain't about to kiss off forty
thousand dollars! I'll get it back
and if any of it's missin' I'll
replace it with her fine soft flesh!
I'll track her, never you doubt it!
LOWERY'S VOICE
Hold on, Cassidy... I still can't
believe... it must be some kind of a
mystery... I can't...
CASSIDY'S VOICE
You checked with the bank, no? They
never laid eyes on her, no? You
still trustin'? Hot creepers, she
sat there while I dumped it out...
hardly even looked at it, plannin'
and... and even flirtin' with me...!
A look of revulsion makes Mary close her eyes.
THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD AGAIN
Big drops of rain begin to appear.
CLOSEUP - MARY
She is becoming aware of the rain starting.
THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD
The rain increasing and backlit by the oncoming headlights.
CLOSEUP - MARY
Mary starts the windshield wipers.
THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD
The wipers are having a battle with the now torrential rain.
CLOSEUP - MARY
Peering through the blurred windshield.
CLOSEUP - THE CAR WHEELS
slowing down in the flooding highway.
CLOSEUP - MARY
peering through the windshield. The oncoming lights are fewer.
CLOSEUP - THE CAR WHEELS
almost coming to a slow turn.
THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD
just blackness and rain.
CLOSEUP - MARY
peering.
MARY'S VIEWPOINT
An almost undiscernible light in the far distance, a neon
sign blurred by the rain-sheeted windshield.
MARY'S CAR
She presses down, forces the car to move on through the
flooded road.
EXT. THE ROAD
As we move closer, we see the neon sign more clearly and can
faintly make out the large letters which read "Motel." Mary
stops the car, lowers the window slightly, looks out. We see
the sign clearly now: "BATES MOTEL." Mary opens the car door
and dashes out into the rain and up onto the porch of the
motel office.
EXT. BATES' MOTEL - (NIGHT)
Mary pauses on the porch. The lights are on within the office.
She tries door, finds it open, goes into office. CAMERA
FOLLOWS her into office. There is no one present. Mary goes
to the desk, rings a small pushbell. There is no response.
Mary rubs her forehead in weariness and frustration, goes
back out onto the porch. She looks off in another direction,
slightly behind the office, and sees...
MARY'S VIEWPOINT - A LARGE OLD HOUSE - (NIGHT)
A path from the motel office leads directly up to this house.
There is a light on in one of the upstairs rooms. A WOMAN
passes the window, pauses, peers out.
We see her in clear silhouette. She quickly goes away from
the window.
EXT. PORCH OF BATES' MOTEL - (NIGHT)
Mary, having seen the woman, expects now that she will get
some attention. She stands a few moments, waiting.
No one comes. Impatience and anger rise in Mary. She dashes
out into the rain, to her car, gets in, opens the side window,
begins to honk the horn. After a moment, a YOUNG MAN open
the front door of the house, pauses, starts down the path.
After a few steps, he turns and runs back into the house.
Mary leaves her car, starts a dash for the shelter of the
porch. As she runs, we see that the Young Man has gone back
only to get an umbrella. Seeing that Mary is on her way to
the porch, he runs quickly, the umbrella unopened in his
hand. He gets to the porch a moment after Mary has reached
it.
He stops short, looks at her, then at the umbrella hanging
useless in his hand, then back to her.
There is something sadly touching in his manner, in his look.
Mary's impatience goes and she smiles and this makes him
almost smile. He gestures her into the office, standing back
to indicate that he will go after her. She goes into the
office.
INT. OFFICE OF BATES' MOTEL - (NIGHT)
The Young Man follows Mary in, closes the door. He is NORMAN
BATES, somewhere in his late twenties, thin and tall, soft-
spoken and hesitant.
NORMAN
Dirty night.
MARY
(not really a question)
You have a vacancy?
NORMAN
(simply, almost
cheerfully)
We have twelve vacancies. Twelve
cabins, twelve vacancies.
(a pause)
They moved away the highway.
MARY
I thought I'd gotten off the main...
NORMAN
I knew you must have. No one stops
here anymore unless they do.
He is behind the counter now, pushing forward the registration
book.
NORMAN
But it's no good dwelling on our
losses, is it. We go right ahead
lighting signs and following the
formalities... Would you sign,
please.
Mary has placed her handbag on the counter. She takes the
registration book, picks up the pen, is suddenly struck with
the realization that she'd better use an alias. She writes
the name Marie Samuels.
NORMAN
Your home address. Oh, just the town
will do.
MARY
(glancing at newspaper
sticking out of her
handbag)
Los Angeles.
She realizes he didn't ask her to tell him, merely to write
it down. She smiles, writes Los Angeles beside the false
name. Norman smiles, stops smiling out of embarrassment.
NORMAN
Cabin One. It's closer in case you
want anything... right next to the
office.
CLOSEUP - NORMAN
He removes a key for Cabin One. We see that there is a
remaining key on the board.
TWO SHOT - MARY AND NORMAN
MARY
I want sleep more than anything.
Except maybe, food.
NORMAN
There's a big diner about ten miles
on up... just outside Fairvale.
MARY
Am I that close to Fairvale?
NORMAN
Fifteen miles. I'll get your bags.
He goes to door, opens it. The rain has slowed down
considerably. He smiles at this fact, as if to communicate
some pleasure he finds in it. Mary follows him to the door,
goes out on the porch, waits and watches as Norman runs to
her car, gets in, drives it to the parking space in front of
Cabin One. Mary walks along the porch, waits before the door
of Cabin One.
Norman gets out of car, with suitcase, runs to the door,
opens it, pushes the door open, puts his hand in and switches
on a light. Mary goes into the cabin. Norman follows her.
INT. CABIN ONE - (NIGHT)
Norman places suitcase on bed, goes to the window, opens it.
NORMAN
Stuffy in here.
(turns to her)
Well... the mattress is soft and
there're hangers in the closet and...
stationary with "Bates' Motel" printed
on it in case you want to make your
friends back home envious... and...
the... over there....
(he points to the
bathroom, fairly
blushes)
MARY
The bathroom.
NORMAN
(quickly, starting to
leave)
I'll be in the office if you want
anything... just tap on the wall.
MARY
Thank you, Mr. Bates.
NORMAN
Norman Bates.
He pauses at the door, gazes at her. She smiles.
NORMAN
You have something most girls never
have.
MARY
I have?
NORMAN
There's no name for it... But it's
something that, that puts a person
at ease.
MARY
Thank you. Again.
NORMAN
(not really a question)
You're not going to go out again and
drive up to that diner, are you?
MARY
No.
NORMAN
Then will you do me a favor?
(without waiting for
her response)
Will you have supper here? I was
just about to, myself... nothing
more than some sandwiches and a lot
of milk, but I'd like it if you'd
come up to the house and... I don't
set a fancy table but... the kitchen's
awful homey.
MARY
I'd like to.
NORMAN
All right, you get your dresses
hanging out and... change those wet
shoes, and I'll come for you soon as
it's ready...
(starts out)
...with my trusty umbrella.
(he laughs a small
laugh, runs off)
Mary closes the door, goes to suitcase, opens it, starts to
take out a dress. Her handbag is next to the suitcase. She
glances down into it, pauses, drops the dress, reaches into
the handbag, takes out the money-filled envelope, stares at
it, almost with regret, filled contemplates hiding it, decides
to, starts looking for a reasonable hiding place. She looks
about, at the closet, the drawers etc., realizes all such
places are obvious. Catching sight of the newspaper in her
bag, she hits on a solution. She opens the newspaper, places
the envelope within it, lock-folds the paper again and then
places it on the bedside table as if it were there for later
reading. She considers this for a moment, accepts it, goes
to her suitcase to start unpacking.
Suddenly the quiet is shattered by the shrill, ugly sound of
a woman's voice, raised in anger.
WOMAN'S VOICE
No! I tell you no!
Mary walks slowly to the window, realizing that the terrible
voice is coming from the house behind the cabins. CAMERA
FOLLOWS her to window and once there we see the light is
still on in the upstairs bedroom and the voice is coming
from that room. The rain has stopped and the moon is out.
WOMAN'S VOICE
I won't have you bringing strange
young girls in for supper...
(an ugly, sneering
note creeps into the
voice)
...by candlelight, I suppose, in the
cheap erotic fashion of young men
with cheap, erotic minds!
NORMAN'S VOICE
Mother, please...
WOMAN'S VOICE
And then what? After supper, music?
Whispers?
NORMAN'S VOICE
Mother, she's just a stranger...
hungry, and the weather's bad...
WOMAN'S VOICE
(mimicking cruelly)
Mother, she's just a stranger!
(hard, cruel again)
As if men don't desire strangers, as
if... oh, I refuse to speak of
disgusting things because they disgust
me! You understand, Boy?
WOMAN'S VOICE
(pause)
Go on, go tell her she'll not be
appeasing her ugly appetite with my
food... or my son! Or do I have to
tell her, cause you don't have the
guts? Huh, boy? You have the guts,
boy?
NORMAN'S VOICE
(blurted cut fury and
shame)
Shut up! Shut up!
There is the SOUND of a door closing in that room up there.
Mary has stood by the window, listening with mounting distress
and concern and sympathy. She turns her face away now, gazes
sadly at the little empty room.
In a moment there is the SOUND of the house's front door
slamming shut. Mary turns, looks out the window.
FROM MARY'S VIEWPOINT - (NIGHT)
We see Norman coming down the path, carrying a napkin-covered
tray.
INT. CABIN ONE - (NIGHT)
Mary looks at him for a moment, then turns quickly, goes to
the door, opens it and goes out onto the porch.
EXT. THE MOTEL PORCH - (NIGHT)
Mary pauses outside the door, is about to start forward when
Norman comes round the building and walks along the porch,
past the office, stopping only when he is close to her. He
stares with painful embarrassment at the knowing look in her
eye.
MARY
I've caused you some trouble.
NORMAN
Mother...
(a hollow little laugh,
an attempt at sardonic
humor)
...what is the phrase... "she isn't
herself today"... I think that's it.
MARY
(looking at the tray)
You shouldn't have bothered. I really
don't have that much of an appetite.
Norman flinches, realizing she has heard his mother's
reference to Mary's appetite.
NORMAN
I'm sorry. I wish... people could
apologize for other people.
MARY
Don't worry about it.
(a warm smile)
But as long as you've made us supper,
we may as well eat it. Huh?
She begins to back into her room. Norman starts to follow,
hesitates as he sees the total picture of an attractive young
woman and a motel room. Bringing down the tray of food, in
defiance of his mother's orders, is about the limit of his
defiance for one day. He cannot go into Mary's room.
NORMAN
It might be nicer... warmer in the
office.
Without waiting for approval or disapproval, he turns, hurries
to the office. Mary looks after him, her face showing amused
sympathy, then follows.
INT. THE MOTEL OFFICE - (NIGHT)
Norman looks about, tray in hand, sees there is no reasonable
place to spread out a supper. He turns, sees Mary standing
in the doorway.
NORMAN
Eating in an office...
(a rueful smile)
...to officious, even for me. I have
the parlor behind this... if you'd
like.
Mary nods. Norman walks on, behind the counter and into the
darkened parlor. Mary follows.
INT. NORMAN'S PARLOR -(NIGHT)
In the darkened room, lit only by the light from the office
spilling in, we see Norman placing the tray on a table. Mary
comes to the doorway, pauses. Norman straightens up, goes to
lamp, turns on the light.
Mary is startled by the room. Even in the dimness of one
lamp, the strange, extraordinary nature of the room rushes
up at one. It is a room of birds. Stuffed birds, all over
the room, on every available surface, one even clinging to
the old fashioned fringed shade of the lamp. The birds are
of many varieties, beautiful, grand, horrible, preying. Mary
stares in awe and a certain fascinated horror.
CLOSE UP - THE VARIOUS BIRDS TWO SHOT - MARY AND NORMAN
NORMAN
Please sit down. On the sofa.
As Norman goes about spreading out the bread and ham and
pouring the milk, we follow Mary across the room. She studies
the birds as she walks, briefly examines a bookcase stacked
with books on the subject of "Taxidermy."
CLOSE UP - THE BOOKS ON TAXIDERMY MED. CLOSE SHOT - MARY
She notices, too, the paintings on the wall; nudes, primarily,
and many with a vaguely religious overtone.
Finally Mary reaches the sofa, sits down, looks at the spread.
MARY
You're very... kind.
NORMAN
It's all for you. I'm not hungry.
Please go ahead.
Mary begins to eat, her attitude a bit tense. She takes up a
small slice of ham, bites off a tiny bite, nibbles at it in
the manner of one disturbed and preoccupied.
Norman gazes at her, at the tiny bite she has taken, smiles
and then laughs.
NORMAN
You eat like a bird.
MARY
You'd know, of course.
NORMAN
Not really. I hear that expression,
that one eats "like a bird," is really
a falsie, I mean a falsity, because
birds eat a tremendous lot.
(A pause, then
explaining)
Oh, I don't know anything about birds.
My hobby is stuffing things...
taxidermy. And I guess I'd just rather
stuff birds because... well, I hate
the look of beasts when they're
stuffed, foxes and chimps and all...
some people even stuff dogs and
cats... but I can't... I think only
birds look well stuffed because
they're rather... passive, to begin
with... most of them...
He trails off, his exuberance failing in the rushing return
of his natural hesitancy and discomfort. Mary looks at him,
with some compression, smiles.
MARY
It's a strange hobby. Curious, I
mean.
NORMAN
Uncommon, too.
MARY
I imagine so.
NORMAN
It's not as expensive as you'd think.
Cheap, really. Needles, thread,
sawdust .. the chemicals are all
that cost anything.
(He goes quiet, looks
disturbed)
MARY
A man should have a hobby.
NORMAN
It's more than a hobby... sometimes...
a hobby is supposed to pass the time,
not fill it.
MARY
(after a pause, softly)
Is your time so empty?
NORMAN
Oh, no!
(forcing brightness
again)
I run the office, tend the cabins
and grounds, do little chores for
mother... the ones she allows I might
be capable of doing.
MARY
You go out... with friends?
NORMAN
Friends? Who needs friends.
(Laughs, then with
gallows humor)
A boy's best friend is his mother.
(Stops laughing)
You've never had an empty moment in
your whole life. Have you?
MARY
Only my share.
NORMAN
Where are you going? I don't mean to
pry...
MARY
(A wistful smile)
I'm looking for a private island.
NORMAN
What are you running away from?
MARY
(Alert)
Why do you ask that?
NORMAN
No. People never run away from
anything.
(A pause)
The rain didn't last very long.
(Turning suddenly)
You know what I think? I think we're
all in our private traps, clamped in
them, and none of us can ever climb
out. We scratch and claw... but only
at the air, only at each other, and
for all of it, we never budge an
inch.
MARY
Sometimes we deliberately step into
those traps.
NORMAN
I was born in mine. I don't mind it
anymore.
MARY
You should... mind it.
NORMAN
Oh I do... but I say I don't.
(Laughs boyishly)
MARY
(Staring at him,
shaking her head
softly.)
If anyone ever spoke to me, the way
I heard... The way she spoke to you,
I don't think I could ever laugh
again.
NORMAN
(Controlled resentment)
Sometimes when she talks that way to
me I'd like to... curse her out and
leave her forever!
(A rueful smile)
Or at least, defy her.
(A pause, a hopeless
shrug)
But I couldn't. She's ill.
MARY
She sounded strong...
NORMAN
I mean... ill.
(A pause)
She had to raise me all by herself
after my dad died... I was only
five... and it must have been a
strain. Oh, she didn't have to go
out to work or anything, Dad left us
with a little something... anyway, a
few years ago... Mother met a man.
He talked her into building this
motel... We could have talked her
into anything... and when. Well...
It was just too much for her when he
died, too... And the way he died...
Oh, it's nothing to talk about when
you're eating.
(Pauses, smiles)
Anyway, it was too much of a loss
for my mother... she had nothing
left.
MARY
(Critically)
Except you.
NORMAN
A son is a poor substitute for a
lover.
(Turns away as if in
distaste of the word)
MARY
Why don't you go away?
NORMAN
To a private island, like you?
MARY
No, not like me.
NORMAN
It's too late for me. And besides...
who'd look after her? She'd be alone
up there, the fire would go out...
damp and cold, like a grave. When
you love someone, you don't do that
to them, even if you hate them. Oh,
I don't hate her. I hate... what
she's become. I hate... the illness.
MARY
(Slowly, carefully)
Wouldn't it be better if you put her
in... someplace...
She hesitates. Norman turns, slowly, looking at her with a
striking coldness.
NORMAN
An Institution? A madhouse? People
always call a madhouse "someplace."
(Mimicing coldly)
Put her in Someplace!
MARY
I'm sorry... I didn't mean it to
sound uncaring...
NORMAN
(The coldness turning
to tight fury)
What do you mean about caring? Have
you ever seen one of those places?
Inside? Laughing and tears and cruel
eyes studying you... and my mother
there? Why? has she harmed you?
She's as harmless as... one of these
stuffed birds.
MARY
I am sorry. I only felt... it seemed
she was harming you. I meant...
NORMAN
(High fury now)
Well? You meant well? People always
mean well, they cluck their thick
tongues and shake their heads and
suggest so very delicately that...
The fury suddenly dies, abruptly and completely, and he sinks
back into his chair. There is a brief silence.
Mary watches the troubled man, is almost physically pained
by his anguish.
NORMAN
(Quietly)
I've suggested it myself. But I hate
to even think such a thing. She
needs me... and it isn't...
(Looks up with a
childlike pleading
in his eyes)
...it isn't as if she were a maniac,
a raving thing... it's just that...
sometimes she goes a little mad. We
all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't
you?
MARY
(After a long
thoughtful pause)
Yes, and just one time can be enough.
(Rises)
Thank you.
NORMAN
(Cheerfully, correcting)
Thank you, Norman.
MARY
Norman.
NORMAN
You're not going to... to your room
already?
MARY
I'm very tired. And I'll have a long
drive tomorrow. All the way back to
Phoenix.
NORMAN
Phoenix?
MARY
I stepped into a private trap back
there -- and I want to go back and...
try to pull myself out.
(Looking close at
Norman)
Before it's too late for me, too.
NORMAN
(Looking at her)
Why don't you stay a little while,
just for talking.
MARY
I'd like to, but...
NORMAN
Alright. I'll see you in the morning.
I'll bring you breakfast. What time
will you...
MARY
Very early. Dawn.
NORMAN
Alright, Miss...
(He has forgotten her
name)
MARY
Crane.
NORMAN
That's it.
(He frowns, as if
bothered by not being
able to match the
name to the memory
of the name in the
registration book)
MARY
Good night.
She goes out of the parlor. We see her, from Norman's
viewpoint, as she crosses the small office, goes out into
the night. Norman turns and looks at the table, and we see
his face now. It is bright with that drunken-like look of
determination and encouragement and like resolve. He starts
to clean up the table, pauses as he hears the closing of
Mary's door in the cabin next door.
He holds still, listens. He goes into the office and looks
at the book.
C.U. - THE NAME "SAMUELS"
M.S. - NORMAN
He goes back into the parlor with a mystified expression.
The sound of Mary moving about her room come over, soft
SOUNDS, somehow intimate in the night quiet. Norman turns
his ear from the direction of the SOUNDS, seems to be fighting
an impulse to listen, or more than listen.
But slowly, he is forced to surrender to the impulse and,
resisting himself, he goes to the wall, presses the side of
his head against it. The SOUNDS come louder, as if we too
had our ear pressed against the wall. Now Norman looks at a
picture hanging on the far end of the wall he is leaning
against. Slowly he starts toward it.
He reaches it, touches it, reluctantly lifts the small frame
off the wall.
A tiny circle of light hits Norman's face, coming from the
hole in the wall behind the picture. This end of the room is
very dim and thus we are able to see clearly the light
striking Norman's face.
We move close to Norman, extremely close, until his profile
fills the screen. The tiny spot of light hits his eye. See
the small hole through which the light comes. Norman peeps
through.
NORMAN'S VIEWPOINT
Through the hole we look into Mary's cabin, see Mary
undressing. She is in her bra and halfslip. She stoops over
a bit, places her hands behind her upper back, begins to
unhook her bra.
NORMAN - ECU
He watches as Mary removes her bra. We see his eye run up
and down the unseen figure of Mary.
NORMAN'S VIEWPOINT
Mary, just slipping into a robe, covering her complete nudity.
NORMAN
He turns from the hole, faces us for a moment, continues
turning until he can look out the small parlor window.
We see, as he sees...
THE HOUSE IN THE BACKGROUND
NORMAN
He turns his face away, quickly, resentfully. In his face we
see anger and anguish. And then resolve.
Quickly, precisely, he rehangs the picture over the hole in
the wall, turns, starts out of the parlor. We see him go
through the office and out onto the porch, not even bothering
to close the door behind him.
CUT TO:
EXT. THE MOTEL OFFICE PORCH - (NIGHT)
Norman walking along the porch, in the direction of the big
house. Once on the path he pauses, looks up at the light in
the bedroom window, then pulls himself up, squares his
shoulders, strides manfully up the path.
CAMERA follows behind him. He opens the door of the house,
enters. We see him pause at the foot of the stairway, look
up at the bedroom door just at the head of the stair. He
holds for a moment, and then his resolve and courage
evaporates. His shoulders slump, sadly, mournfully. He by-
passes the stairs and slowly makes his way to the kitchen.
At the far end of the hall. He enters the kitchen, drops
wearily into a chair. After a moment, he stretches out a leg
and gently pushes the kitchen door closed.
CUT TO:
INT. MARY'S MOTEL ROOM - (NIGHT)
Mary is seated at the small desk, engrossed in figuring in a
small notebook. We see from these figures a calculation which
indicates her intention to make a restitution of the money
she has used of the forty thousand dollars. We see, too, her
bankbook. The paper reads thus: top figure, 40,000; directly
beneath it 500, the amount used for the new car; total after
subtraction, 39,500. In another spot we see a figure which
matches the balance in her bankbook; 624.00.
Beneath this is the figure 500, and the amount after
subtraction, 124.00. She studies the figures, sighs, not
wearily but with a certain satisfaction, with the pleasure
that comes when one knows that at any cost one is going to
continue doing the right thing. After a moment she tears the
page out of the notebook and, rising, begins to rip it into
small pieces. She goes into the bathroom, drops the pieces
into the toilet bowl, flushes the toilet. Then she drops her
robe and steps into the tub and turns the shower on.
INT. MARY IN SHOWER
Over the bar on which hangs the shower curtain, we can see
the bathroom door, not entirely closed. For a moment we watch
Mary as she washes and soaps herself.
There is still a small worry in her eyes, but generally she
looks somewhat relieved.
Now we see the bathroom door being pushed slowly open.
The noise of the shower drowns out any sound. The door is
then slowly and carefully closed.
And we see the shadow of a woman fall across the shower
curtain. Mary's back is turned to the curtain. The white
brightness of the bathroom is almost blinding.
Suddenly we see the hand reach up, grasp the shower curtain,
rip it aside.
CUT TO:
MARY - ECU
As she turns in response to the feel and SOUND of the shower
curtain being torn aside. A look of pure horror erupts in
her face. A low terrible groan begins to rise up out of her
throat. A hand comes into the shot. The hand holds an enormous
bread knife. The flint of the blade shatters the screen to
an almost total, silver blankness.
THE SLASHING
An impression of a knife slashing, as if tearing at the very
screen, ripping the film. Over it the brief gulps of
screaming. And then silence. And then the dreadful thump as
Mary's body falls in the tub.
REVERSE ANGLE
The blank whiteness, the blur of the shower water, the hand
pulling the shower curtain back. We catch one flicker of a
glimpse of the murderer. A woman, her face contorted with
madness, her head wild with hair, as if she were wearing a
fright-wig. And then we see only the curtain, closed across
the tub, and hear the rush of the shower water. Above the
shower-bar we see the bathroom door open again and after a
moment we HEAR the SOUND of the front door slamming.
CUT TO:
THE DEAD BODY
Lying half in, half out of the tub, the head tumbled over,
touching the floor, the hair wet, one eye wide open as if
popped, one arm lying limp and wet along the tile floor.
Coming down the side of the tub, running thick and dark along
the porcelain, we see many small threads of blood. CAMERA
FOLLOWS away from the body, travels slowly across the
bathroom, past the toilet, out into the bedroom. As CAMERA
approaches the bed, we see the folded newspaper as Mary placed
it on the bedside table.
CLOSE UP - THE NEWSPAPER
beside the bed. The CAMERA now moves away over to the window
and looks up to the house, and as it gets there we HEAR,
coming from within the house, the SOUND of Norman's fearful,
shocked voice.
NORMAN'S VOICE
Mother! Oh God, what... blood,
blood... mother...!
We cannot entirely distinguish these exclamations.
After a moment or two of silence, Norman emerges from the
front door, dashes down the path toward the motel.
QUICK CUT TO:
EXT. THE PATH - (NIGHT)
Norman is coming AT CAMERA, running head-on. He dashes into
an extreme close up and we see the terror and fear ripe in
his face. CAMERA PANS as Norman races past, holds as Norman
runs to the porch and quickly along it and directly to Mary's
room.
INT. MARY'S CABIN - (NIGHT)
Norman pauses a moment in the doorway, glances about the
room, hears the shower going, sees the bathroom door is open.
He goes to the bathroom, looks in, sees the body.
Slowly, almost carefully, he raises his hands to his face,
covers his eyes, turns his face away. Then he crosses to the
window, looks out at the house. Shot is so angled that we
see the bedside table with the newspaper on it.
After a moment, Norman moves from the window, sinks onto the
edge of the bed.
FRESH ANGLE - BEHIND NORMAN
Norman sitting on bed, the bathroom in b.g. of shot. We can
see only the hand of the dead girl, lying along the tile
floor. Norman presses his eyes, fights to find a way out of
his dilemma. Slowly, a kind of settling comes upon him, the
peace that comes with decision.
Norman rises, goes to the window, looks out, and then, with
resolution, closes the window and draws the curtain across
it. Then he crosses to the front window, facing the porch,
and draws those curtains closed. Then he switches off the
bedroom light, leaving the room lit only by the spill from
the bathroom. He opens the front door, goes out.
EXT. THE HOTEL PORCH - (NIGHT)
Norman comes out of Mary's cabin, closes the door carefully
behind him, goes along the porch to his office, goes in. We
stay outside. Immediately, the "Vacancy" sign goes off, and
then the motel sign goes off. As CAMERA GOES closer to the
office, the lights within go off and we HEAR a closet door
opening and then the SOUND of a pail being picked up. Norman
comes out of office, closes door, looks cautiously about,
goes along porch, carrying pail with mop in it, goes into
Mary's cabin, closing the door after him.
INT. MARY'S CABIN
With the paper in the foreground, Norman enters. We can see
him in the dim spill of light. He pauses by the door, then
gathers his strength and goes into the bathroom. We HEAR him
set the pail on the tiled floor, and then we HEAR the shower
being turned off. And there is total silence. CAMERA MOVES
FORWARD so that we can see into bathroom.
CAMERA is ANGLED that we see Norman only from the waist up.
Quickly and deftly he unhooks the shower curtain, emerges
with it into the bedroom. CAMERA PANS down and we see him
spread the shower curtain on the bedroom floor, just outside
the bathroom door. He spreads the curtain so that one end of
it comes up against the bathroom threshold and slightly over
and onto the tile floor. Again he goes into the bathroom and
CAMERA TILTS up so that we see only the upper half of Norman.
He works carefully, with his arms extended away from his
body, slowly pulls the dead body out of the tub, drags it
across the tile floor and onto the spread-out shower curtain
in the bedroom. Having arranged the body, he straightens up,
examines his hands, sees bloodstains on them. He returns to
the bathroom, goes to the hand-basin.
CLOSE SHOT
We see his hands being washed, see the bloodstains being
diluted and washed away by the gush of the faucet water.
NORMAN
We see Norman shake his hands free of the water, then turn
to the job of cleaning the bathroom.
He places the pail in the tub, runs water into it, dips the
mop in, swabs the tile floor. With a towel he wipes off the
wall over the tub and the edges and sides of the tub and
even the shower curtain rod. Then he takes a second towel
and goes over the cleaned areas, carefully drying them.
Finally he rinses and squeezes out the mop, empties the pail,
cleans out the tub, and goes out into the bedroom.
INT. MARY'S BEDROOM
Norman steps carefully around the unseen body, crosses to
the desk, starts going through Mary's handbag, in search of
her car keys. He suddenly notices them lying on the desk,
where he'd thrown them after parking her car. He picks up
the keys, crosses the room, goes out.
EXT. THE PORCH
We see Norman pauses at the door, check cautiously, then
hurry across the porch and into Mary's car. He circle-turns
the car, so that its trunk is backed up to the turns porch,
directly opposite Mary's door, as close as it can go.
Then he alights, goes to the trunk, opens it with the key
and, leaving the trunk lid raised, goes back into the cabin.
INT. MARY'S ROOM
From a raised angle, we see Norman bend down and begin to
wrap the shower curtain around the body. We see the edges of
the curtain as they are raised and laid down again. Then he
picks up the wrapped body, crosses to the door, uses his
foot to pull the door open, and, leaving the door open behind
him, goes quickly across the porch and gently lays the body
in the trunk. He closes the lid then, but does not lock it.
He comes back into the cabin, closes the door completely,
flicks on the light.
Again the newspaper is in the foreground. For a moment he
pauses, closes his eyes against the realization of what he
is doing, then quickly pushes all thoughts away, continues
with his work. With the room lighted, he now proceeds to
gather up all Mary's articles and toss them into the suitcase.
He checks all drawers and the closet, gets down and checks
under bed and bureau, goes into the bathroom, checks that
room again, comes back into the bedroom, looks about
carefully, spots Mary's handbag, throws even that into the
suitcase, is finally satisfied that all traces of the girl
are gone from the room. Then he closes Mary's suitcase, picks
it up.
With his free hand he picks up the pail, in which are the
mop and the used towels. He crosses to the door, switches
off the light with his shoulder, pulls open the door, starts
out.
EXT. THE PORCH
As Norman stands in the doorway, he is suddenly and blindingly
lit by the bright headlights of a passing car. The flash of
the lights and the SOUND of the SPEEDING CAR are over in a
flicker of a moment, but it takes a few seconds for Norman
to regain his former tense composure. Then he goes to the
car trunk, raises it with his foot, throws the suitcase and
the pail into it, slams it shut. He pauses a moment, then
realizes he has left the bathroom light on in Mary's cabin.
He returns to cabin. As he enters, his eye is caught by the
newspaper on the bedside table. He goes to it, takes the
newspaper, and looks once again into the bathroom. His glance
goes right over the toilet bowl.
He turns out the lights, crosses the darkened cabin, goes
out onto the porch.
He reopens the trunk, tosses in the newspaper and closes it.
He goes around and jumps into the car and starts away.
We HOLD on the trunk, follow it for a while, then
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. THE SWAMP - (NIGHT)
The car pulls away from a CLOSE ANGLE on the trunk and as
CAMERA HOLDS we see that we are now in a swamp area.
It is quiet except for the irritating noises of night insects.
Norman stops the car at the very edge of the swamp, turns
off the lights, gets out, leaving door open. He looks at the
swamp, seems doubtful of its ability to swallow up the car,
realizes he has no choice. He leans into the car, releases
the emergency brake, starts to push. The front of the car
begins to roll into the swamp. Suddenly there is the LOW,
THROBBING SOUND of a motor. Norman freezes, listens.
The SOUND grows louder and Norman realizes it is an airplane
flying overhead. The car is rolling quickly now. Norman jumps
away, slams the door shut, stands tense. The SOUND of the
plane overhead grows louder.
Norman looks up.
NORMAN'S VIEWPOINT - THE BLACK SKY
We see no plane. The SOUND of the motor is beginning to
diminish.
CUT BACK TO:
NORMAN
We see the relief in his face. He looks at the car.
More than two-thirds of it have already sunk into the swamp.
The trunk alone seems to hold poised above the sand and slime,
as if refusing to go the rest of the way. Norman begins to
panic, he steps dangerously close, pushes with his foot. And
slowly the car sinks, until finally it is gone and we hear
only the gentle plop of the swamp's final gulp, and see only
the small after-bubble, like a visual burp.
Norman waits a moment, then begins stamping out the tire
marks, so obvious in the wet ground around the swamp.
He stamps and drags his feet over the markings as we:
DISSOLVE TO:
CLOSE UP NORMAN
standing on the porch of the motel, leaning against a post.
He is staring out into the night, a look of guarded, casual
innocence on his face, as if he were taking one last moment
of peaceful night air before retiring. Then he glances down
and CAMERA follows his gaze. A hose is lying on the ground
outside Mary's cabin, its stream of water obliterating the
tire marks.
After a moment, Norman's hand comes into shot, picks up hose,
places it in a new position. As CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see
that the water from the hose has erased and rearranged the
road markings so that it would be impossible to tell that a
car had been parked here.
After a short wait, Norman goes to the hose-faucet, turns it
off, unscrews the hose. As he rolls the hose, he walks away
from the spot, past the office, heading for the path that
leads to the house. He goes up the path, pauses at the steps
of the house, tosses the curled hose onto the lawn, goes up
the steps and into the house. CAMERA FOLLOWS him in, PAUSES
as he pauses at the foot of the stairs. Norman goes up the
stairs.
On the landing he stops. The door to his mother's room is
closed. Lying in a heap outside the door are a blood-stained
dress and a pair of elderly-woman's shoes. From an EXTREMELY
HIGH ANGLE, we look down on Norman as he bends to pick up
the stained dress and shoes.
He rolls the shoes into the dress, tucks the small, neat
bundle under his arm, and starts down the stairs, heading
for the basement.
EXT. A LONG SHOT OF THE OLD HOUSE - (NIGHT)
It stands silhouetted against the sky. There is a long wait.
Then, slowly, a curl of smoke comes out of the chimney.
FADE OUT:
FADE IN
INT. BACK ROOM OF SAM'S HARDWARE STORE IN FAIRVALE - (DAY)
Sam is seated at his desk, writing a letter. Sequence
begins with CAMERA IN CLOSE, over Sam's shoulder, and we can
read as mush as he has written of the letter. The letterhead
reads "Sam Loomis - Hardware," and the letter reads: "Dearest
right-as-always Mary: I'm sitting in this tiny back room
which isn't big enough for both of us, and suddenly it looks
big enough for both of us. So what if we're poor and cramped
and miserable, at least we'll be happy! If you haven't come
to your senses, and still want to...
CAMERA begins PULLING AWAY as Sam turns the sheet of paper
over, continues backing away out of the small back room and
heads, backwards, down the corridor, we see a young clerk,
BOB SUMMERFIELD, Sam's assistant, standing behind the counter,
a look of handsome patience on his face. He is waiting on a
meticulous, elderly woman customer, who is holding and
examining a large can of insecticide. As CAMERA PASSES:
WOMAN CUSTOMER
...They tell you what its ingredients
are and how it's guaranteed to
exterminate any insect in the world,
but they do not tell you whether or
not it's painless. And I say insect
or man, death should always be
painless.
CAMERA, by this has reached the front door of the hardware
store and we now see a girl standing just inside the door.
She is an attractive girl with a rather definite manner, a
look of purposefulness. She carries a handbag and a small
overnight case. She is Mary's sister, LILA CRANE.
Bob Summerfield has noticed Lila, smiles brightly at her,
gives her an I'll-be-with-you-in-a-moment nod.
Lila starts to walk toward the counter, never taking her
eyes off Bob. As she approaches, she asks quietly:
LILA
Sam?
SUMMERFIELD
You want to see Sam?
LILA
Sam Loomis.
SUMMERFIELD
(yelling toward back
room)
Sam! Lady wants to see you!
Lila looks to the back room. The woman customer goes on
worriedly examining the fine print of the insecticide can.
Sam comes to the door of his room, pauses, looks at Lila a
moment, starts toward her, his expression indicating that he
does not know her. Lila studies him with a quiet, worried
expression.
SAM
Yes?
LILA
May I talk to you?
SAM
(a bit mystified)
Sure...
Lila glances at the customer and the clerk, turns, starts
toward the front of the store. Sam holds a moment, then
follows. As he reaches her, she turns, her eyes studying him
intently as she says:
LILA
I'm Mary's sister.
SAM
Lila.
LILA
(quickly)
Is Mary here?
Sam is mystified, and is also aware of the worried, hostile
expression on Lila's face. He studies her for a quiet moment.
Behind them is a display of various size carving knives.
SAM
Is something wrong?
LILA
I want to know if my sister is here.
SAM
Here?
LILA
With you.
SAM
Where?
LILA
I don't know where. In your store,
somewhere in your town... anywhere.
SAM
What's the matter?
LILA
Don't you know?
As Sam is about to speak, the Woman Customer comes sailing
past, speaking as she goes and wearing a satisfied smile.
WOMAN CUSTOMER
All I can do is hope if it isn't
painless, it's quick!
She speaks "quick" with a kind of delicious bite, nods
happily, goes on out of the store. Sam is now staring
apprehensively at Lila.
SAM
What should I know?
LILA
To begin with, where Mary is. Do
you?
SAM
No. I take it you don't either?
(As Lila shakes her
head)
How long?
LILA
Last Friday. She left work, and
home... I was in Tucson over the
weekend... I haven't heard from her,
not even a phone call.
SAM
And you thought she'd come up here,
to me? If she had, what reason would
she have for not calling you?
LILA
A good reason, I suppose.
SAM
(Slightly exasperated)
Well what do you think, we eloped or
something? Or we're living in sin
and...
LILA
Mr. Loomis, you're so busy being
defensive that you haven't even
reacted to the most serious fact of
all. Mary is missing.
SAM
I was getting to that!
LILA
What do you know about it?
SAM
Nothing! You're putting me on the
defensive.
LILA
Look, if you two are in this thing
together, I don't care, it's none of
my business... But I want to see
Mary. I want her to tell me she's
all right and it's none of my
business. Then I'll go back to Phoenix
and...
She stops, the anxiety and fear building up in her, her eyes
beginning to fill with worried tears. Sam studies her for a
moment, then turns and calls:
SAM
Bob? Run out and get yourself some
lunch.
SUMMERFIELD
It's okay, Sam, I brought it with
me.
SAM
Run out and eat it.
Bob gets the message, goes out through the back way.
Sam goes closer to Lila, speaks with soft seriousness.
SAM
What thing?
LILA
Huh?
SAM
What thing could we be in together?
LILA
(A pause)
I hate tears.
(Takes out hankie)
SAM
Is Mary... in trouble?
LILA
Yes.
SAM
Well why didn't she come to me...
call me...?
LILA
Not that kind...
(Almost a smile)
You men and your egos.
SAM
(Seriously)
Never mind my ego. Let's talk about
Mary.
Their attention is distracted by a man who has strolled
quietly into the room. He ignores them, walks past them,
goes behind the counter, takes down a sign reading "CLOSED
FOR LUNCH," walks back to the door, closes door, hangs the
sign across the door window, locks the door, turns to Sam
and Lila, folds his arms, smiles a particularly unfriendly
smile.
ARBOGAST
Let's all talk about Mary.
SAM
Who are you, friend?
ARBOGAST
Milt Arbogast, Private Investigator.
(To Lila)
Where is she, Miss Crane?
LILA
I don't know.
ARBOGAST
Wouldn't have been able to tail you
if you did.
SAM
What's your interest?
ARBOGAST
Money.
There is a moment's silence and then, unable to tolerate the
sudden frightening happenings, Sam explodes.
SAM
Somebody better tell me what's going
on and tell me fast! I can take so
much and then...
ARBOGAST
(Interrupting calmly)
Your girl friend stole forty thousand
dollars.
Sam looks at Arbogast in utter shock and in that state asks
one of those seemingly ridiculous questions.
SAM
Why?
ARBOGAST
(An almost amused
smile)
Must've needed it.
SAM
What are you talking about?
(To Lila)
What is this?
LILA
She was supposed to bank it, on
Friday, for her boss. She didn't.
And no one has seen her since.
ARBOGAST
(Looking at Sam)
Someone has seen her. Someone always
sees a girl with forty thousand
dollars.
(To Sam)
She is your girl friend, isn't she?
LILA
Sam, they don't want to prosecute,
they just want the money back. It
was all in cash...
ARBOGAST
(Correcting with
Cassidy's word)
Casharoonie!
LILA
Sam, if she's here...
SAM
She isn't!
A real look of anguish comes into Lila's face. And Arbogast
studies it, then speaks.
ARBOGAST
You came up here on a hunch, Miss
Crane? Nothing more? No phone call...
from him, or from your sister herself?
LILA
(wearily)
Not even a hunch. Just hope.
ARBOGAST
With a little checking, I could get
to believe you.
LILA
(anxiously)
I don't care if you do or... I want
to see Mary... before she gets in
any deeper...
SAM
Did you check in Phoenix...
hospitals... maybe she had an
accident... a hold-up...
ARBOGAST
She was seen leaving town in her
car. Seen by her very victims, I
might add.
SAM
(after a moment)
I don't believe it.
(to Lila, slowly)
Do you?
LILA
(a thoughtful pause)
Yes... I just... did. The moment
they told me...
SAM
You might have doubted for say five
minutes or so, Sister.
Lila turns from Sam, a flush of guilt and regret in her face.
Arbogast looks at her, quiet sympathetically.
ARBOGAST
We're always quickest to doubt people
who have a record for being honest.
I think she's here, Miss Crane. Where
there's a boyfriend...
(Trails off, smiles
encouragingly)
She won't be back there among the
nuts and bolts... but she'll be in
this town... somewhere. I'll find
her.
He nods, takes down the closed-for-lunch sign, sails it to
the counter, opens door, goes out into the street.
After a quiet moment:
LILA
I just listened... and believed
everything they told me. 'She stole
the money.' 'We don't want to get
her in trouble.' 'No don't bring the
police in'...
SAM
It was her boss' idea not to report
it to the police?
LILA
No. The man whose money she... he
talked so loud and fast, and I... I
should've called the police.
SAM
He must have had a darn good reason
for wanting them kept out of it...
All that cash...
LILA
I ought to call the police right
now!
SAM
No.
LILA
Why not? Sam, is she hiding here?
Are you two planning to go away with
the money?
SAM
How could I go away? I'm in debt up
to my...
(Smiles at the
incongruity of his
reply, then goes
serious)
If she did steal that money... It's
hard to believe she did because it's
hard to see why she would. Unless
she had some wild idea that it would
help me... us...
LILA
She haven't even called you?
SAM
I didn't see her... and I didn't
hear from her! Believe that!
LILA
I need to... I need to believe
something. This is the first time
I've ever come up against anything I
couldn't... understand.
SAM
You've led a charmed life.
LILA
No. I just think... anything can be
explained. But Mary, doing a thing
like this... I don't know how to
handle...
SAM
Maybe we can handle it together.
(He smiles
encouragingly)
LILA
(A rueful shrug)
I came flying up here expecting to
get some explanation... for all I
know, she may be trying to get in
touch with me, at home. I'd better
go home.
SAM
(A thoughtful pause)
I think she'll contact me if she
contacts anybody. Why don't you stay
here. When she shows up... or calls...
be here.
LILA
(A long study, her
suspicion of him
evaporating)
You want me to stay here?
SAM
She'll need both of us.
LILA
(considers, then:)
Where... can I stay?
SAM
(brightly)
First rate hotel, fifty yards up the
street. Come on.
(as he reaches for
the closed-for-lunch
sign)
After we check you in we'll go to
the drugstore and get you a sandwich.
Then we'll come back here... and
wait.
He hangs the sign on the door, ushers Lila out, closes door
behind him.
CUT TO:
EXT. STREET - (DAY)
They emerge from the store and walk along to the hotel. As
they enter, Arbogast is in the act of taking over a white
Ford sedan from a rental car man. They glance at him and he
returns a cynical look.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. HOTEL - (DAY)
Outside another hotel we see Arbogast alight from the white
car and go into new hotel.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. COUNTRYSIDE - (DAY)
The white car speeding along the highway.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. NEW MOTEL - (DAY)
Arbogast going into the office - we see the sign above him.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. BATES' MOTEL - (DAY)
A high shot showing the freeway and Bates house and motel on
the side old highway. A pause and then across the bottom of
the picture a white car speeds by on the freeway.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. HOTEL - (DUSK)
Another Hotel. Arbogast goes in.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. BATES' MOTEL - (DAY)
The white car speeding along the freeway again going in the
opposite direction to last time. Norman, a tiny figure, is
seen going up the steps to his mother's house.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. BOARDING HOUSE - (DAY)
Arbogast's search is getting down in the scale. This is an
entrance to a cheesy boarding house. "Rooms to Rent," etc.
He looks at his list and then goes in.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. BATES' MOTEL - (DAY)
The white car goes by on the freeway again.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. ROOMING HOUSE - (DAY)
Arbogast goes in.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. BATES' MOTEL - (TWILIGHT)
Heavy traffic on the freeway. A beat or two - again the white
car. It slows up opposite the distant motel. It makes a turn
and goes back out of scene. A pause and it reappears on the
old road and slowly makes its way toward the Bates' Motel.
EXT. THE BATES' HOUSE AND MOTEL - (TWILIGHT)
We now see Norman. He has brought out an old rocking chair
and has placed it on the office porch and is sitting hunched
in it. And he is darning one of his own socks. CAMERA HOLDS.
Beyond the porch, and Norman, we see the old house and can
barely make out, in the twilight dimness, the figure of his
mother seated at the window. Here, too, there is that quality
of quiet peace surrounded by a vague foreboding.
Now Norman looks up at the SOUND of the approaching car.
And continues looking as the car comes to a stop and Arbogast
gets out. Arbogast gives the place a quick once-over, gazes
at Norman, starts forward. In his steps and manner there is
that bored, routine-logged quality of a man who has seen too
many motels and asked question of too many hotel managers
over too short a period of time.
Norman rises as Arbogast comes forward.
NORMAN
(shoving sock in his
pocket)
I always forget to put the sign on,
but we do have vacancy.
(Cheerfully)
Twelve in fact. Twelve cabins, twelve
vacancies.
ARBOGAST
(pleasantly)
In the past two days I've been to so
many motels, my eyes are bleary with
neon. This is the first one that
looked like it was hiding from the
world at large.
NORMAN
I don't really forget the sign, it
just doesn't seem... any use.
(Points)
This used to be the main highway.
(Starts for office)
Want to register, please?
ARBOGAST
Sit down. I don't want to trouble
you, just want to ask...
NORMAN
No trouble. Today's linen day. I
change all the beds once a week,
whether they've been used or not...
dampness. I hate the smell of
dampness.
(Opening office door)
It's such a dank smell.
Norman is holding the door open, so Arbogast walks in.
Norman follows.
INT. MOTEL OFFICE - (TWILIGHT)
Norman switches on the overhead light, starts for the linen
closet, suddenly pauses, turns, studies Arbogast, who has
remained standing by the door.
NORMAN
You out to buy a motel?
ARBOGAST
No.
NORMAN
Oh. I thought... you said you'd been
to so many in two days... What was
it you wanted to ask?
ARBOGAST
I'm looking for a missing person.
(takes out and opens
wallet and extends
it as he speaks)
My name's Arbogast, private
investigator...
(takes back wallet
when Norman doesn't
look at it)
Trying to trace a young girl who's
been missing almost a week. From
Phoenix.
(A look at Norman's
frightened expression)
It's a private matter... family wants
to forgive her...
(smiles)
She isn't in trouble.
NORMAN
(forcing a smile)
I didn't think the police went
searching for people who weren't in
trouble.
ARBOGAST
I'm not the police.
NORMAN
Oh.
He waits a moment, then opens closet, starts counting out
sheets and pillow cases, keeps his back to Arbogast.
Arbogast takes a photograph out of his pocket, talks as he
crosses to Norman.
ARBOGAST
We have reason to believe she came
this way... might have stopped in
this area...
(extends photograph,
which Norman doesn't
glance at)
Did she stop here?
NORMAN
No. No one has stopped here in
weeks...
ARBOGAST
Mind looking at the picture before
committing yourself?
NORMAN
Committing myself to what? You sure
talk like a Policeman.
ARBOGAST
Look at the picture. Please.
Norman glances, briefly, turns away, lifts sheets and pillow
cases off the shelf holds them close, almost protectively.
NORMAN
No. At least I don't recall.
ARBOGAST
She might have used an alias. Mary
Crane's the real name, but she
might've registered...
NORMAN
(interrupting)
I don't even bother with guests
registering any more... I mean, little
by little, you drop the formalities.
(more relaxed, because
Arbogast is listening
with a pleasant smile)
I shouldn't even bother to change
the linen. I guess habits die hard.
Which reminds me...
He goes to the wall, flips a light switch.
NORMAN
The vacancy sign. Just in case.
We had a couple the other night, said if the sign hasn't
been on they'd have thought this was an old deserted mining
town or something.
ARBOGAST
Now there's a couple even remarking
about your sign, and see how easily
you forgot them?
NORMAN
What?
ARBOGAST
You thought no one has stopped here
in weeks. Now, try to remember if
this girl...
ARBOGAST
(A pause, a study)
Maybe she even signed the register...
because habits die hard. Let's check
it, huh?
Norman says nothing. Arbogast goes to the desk, pulls the
registry book around, flips back a page or two.
Norman simply stares at the man. Arbogast hums faintly,
pleasantly, as he examines the pages. Then:
ARBOGAST
Yes sir! Marie Samuels. Interesting
alias.
He takes a slip of paper out of his pocket, lays it beside
the signature in the registry book, all the while nodding
and smiling nicely, as if this discovery will make Norman as
happy as it is making him.
ARBOGAST
Don't know where she got "Marie,"
but "Samuels" figures. Her boy
friend's name is Sam.
(Turns to Norman, the
smile gone)
Was she in disguise? Or do you want
to check the picture again?
NORMAN
I didn't lie to you. I just have
trouble keeping track of... time.
Arbogast has reached him, the picture extended. Norman looks
dutifully at it.
NORMAN
It was raining and her hair didn't
look like that... damped out, I guess.
ARBOGAST
Tell me all about her.
NORMAN
She arrived kind of late, wet and
hungry and she was very tired and
went right to bed and left early.
ARBOGAST
How early?
NORMAN
Very early. Dawn.
ARBOGAST
Of which morning?
NORMAN
The following morning. Sunday.
ARBOGAST
No one met her?
NORMAN
No.
ARBOGAST
Or arrived with her.
NORMAN
No.
ARBOGAST
She didn't call anyone? Even locally?
NORMAN
No.
ARBOGAST
You didn't spend the whole night
with her did you?
NORMAN
No! Of all...
ARBOGAST
How do you know she didn't make a
call?
NORMAN
She was tired. She said she had a
long drive ahead of her, in the
morning... Yes, now I'm remembering
very clearly because I'm picturing.
When you make a picture of the moment
in your mind, you can remember every
detail. She was sitting back there,
no she was standing up, with some
sandwich still in her hand, and she
said she had to drive a long way.
ARBOGAST
Back where?
NORMAN
What do you mean?
ARBOGAST
You said she was sitting "back there,"
or standing rather...
NORMAN
Oh. My private parlor. She had an
awful hunger... so I made her some
supper. And then she went to bed and
left in the morning. I didn't even
see her leave.
ARBOGAST
How did she pay you?
NORMAN
What?
ARBOGAST
Cash or check? For the cabin...
NORMAN
Cash.
ARBOGAST
And when she left, she never came
back.
NORMAN
Why should she? I'm sorry, I have
work to do, Mr... if you don't mind...
ARBOGAST
I do mind. If it don't jell, it ain't
aspic!
(smiles)
This ain't jelling.
NORMAN
I don't know what you expect me to
know about... people come and go...
ARBOGAST
She isn't still here, is she?
NORMAN
Not at all!
ARBOGAST
Suppose I wanted to search the cabins,
all twelve... would I need a warrant?
NORMAN
(as if pleasantly
exasperated)
Look, if you won't believe me, go
ahead. You can help me make beds if
you like.
(laughs, shakes his
head)
Come on.
He starts out. Arbogast pauses, momentarily confused by the
young man's openness.
CUT TO:
EXT. THE MOTEL PORCH - (NIGHT)
Norman walks down the porch, hesitates before Cabin One,
walks on a bit toward Cabin Two, stops, turns to see if
Arbogast is following. Arbogast has come out onto the porch,
but is not following. He has walked to the opposite end of
the porch and is standing at its edge, looking up at the old
house. The upstairs window is in darkness. The neon of the
Vacancy and Motel signs splash strange light over the scene.
NORMAN
Change your mind?
Arbogast does not reply. Norman becomes apprehensive, starts
to Arbogast, forcing himself to remain calm and cheerful.
NORMAN
I guess I've got one of those faces
you can't help believing.
ARBOGAST
(to Norman, but
continuing to stare
at the house)
Anyone at home?
NORMAN
I live there. Alone.
ARBOGAST
Someone is sitting in that window.
NORMAN
My mother.
Arbogast turns, gazes seriously at him.
NORMAN
She's... ill. Confined to her room.
It's practically living alone.
ARBOGAST
(after a pause)
If this girl Mary Crane were here,
you'd have no reason to hide her
would you?
NORMAN
Of course not.
ARBOGAST
If she paid you well?
NORMAN
Now, look...!
ARBOGAST
Or if she had you say... gallantly
protecting her... you wouldn't be
fooled... you'd know she was just
using you. Wouldn't you?
NORMAN
I'm not a fool! And I'm not capable
of being fooled! Not even by women!
ARBOGAST
I didn't mean that as a slur on your
manhood. I'm sorry.
NORMAN
(disturbed now)
That's all right. maybe she could
have fooled me. But...
(a rueful smile)
She didn't fool my mother.
ARBOGAST
Your mother met her?
(quickly)
Can I talk to your mother?
NORMAN
No. I told you, she's confined...
ARBOGAST
Just for a moment. She might have
picked up a hint you'd miss.
ARBOGAST
Sick old women are sharp. Come on, I
won't disturb...
NORMAN
No! Just no! I have one of those
breaking points like any other man,
believe it or not, and I'm near it.
There's just so much pushing I can
take and I think...
ARBOGAST
All right!
(starts away, toward
his car, pauses)
Might save me a lot of leg-work if I
could just talk to your mother. But
I'd need a warrant for that, won't
I?
Norman does not respond. Arbogast gets in his car, starts
the motor. Norman looks up, studies the man's face, his own
face showing apprehension. Arbogast backs the car around
very slowly, his gaze divided between the old house and the
lighted window of Cabin Two. As he turns the car out, his
headlights light up the porch.
Norman stands, watching him drive away.
EXT. PHONE BOOTH - (NIGHT)
The car pulls up and Arbogast gets out of car, leaving motor
running. As he starts to walk across the highway, CAMERA
PULLS AWAY and we
CUT TO:
EXT. HIGHWAY WITH TELEPHONE BOOTH - (NIGHT)
Arbogast gets to the phone booth, enters. CAMERA STARTS
FORWARD, and we see Arbogast remove a small notebook from
his pocket, check on a number, drop a dime in the slot and
dial this number. As we reach phone booth,
CUT TO:
ARBOGAST
(into phone)
Miss Crane, please.
(listens)
She leave a number?
(listens)
Thanks.
(hangs up, dials again,
waits)
Lila there, Mr. Loomis? Arbogast.
(waits)
Lila? Look, this isn't much, but it
might make you feel a little better.
Mary was up here. Spent last Saturday
night at Bates' Motel, out here on
the old highway.
(listens)
Young fellow runs it, said Mary spent
the night, left, period!
(listens)
I did question him, believe me. I
think I got all there was to get.
Just have to try to pick up the scent
from here.
(listens)
Well... maybe that's because I don't
feel entirely satisfied. He's got a
sick old mother, confined type, and
I think she saw Mary and talked to
her. Shame, too... confined old women
love to talk to strangers.
(listens)
I was, but I think I'll go back to
the motel, first.
(listens)
No, you stay put, Lila. With Loomis.
I should be back in an hour.
(listens)
All right. And Lila... You'll be
happy to know what I think. I think
our friend Sam Loomis didn't even
know Mary was here.
(smiles)
See you in an hour. Or less.
He hangs up, gets out of the phone booth.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. BATES' MOTEL - (NIGHT)
A distant view of the House and Motel. There is a light on
in the house. There is also a light on in Norman's office.
We see Norman emerge from his office and move along the porch
toward the distant cabins. He carries sheets on his arm. He
goes into the last cabin and switches the light on. Into the
foreground the hood of the white Ford enters the scene and
stops. Arbogast gets out. He goes over to the Motel office.
EXT. MOTEL OFFICE - (NIGHT)
Arbogast goes in.
INT. OFFICE - (NIGHT)
Arbogast looks around the empty office and calls.
ARBOGAST
Bates!
He goes over to the door to the parlor and enters. He looks
around the bird-ridden room. He stops short as he sees:
C.U. - THE OLD SAFE IN THE CORNER
C.U. - ARBOGAST
goes over to it. He finds it unlocked. With a quick, cautious
look around he opens it.
C.U. - THE EMPTY SAFE
C.U. - ARBOGAST
straightens up and goes out.
EXT. MOTEL OFFICE - (NIGHT)
Arbogast comes out and looks off. He sees:
THE LAST LIT CABIN
The door ajar.
C.U. - ARBOGAST - (NIGHT)
would go along but he stops with a new thought. He turns
around and looks off.
L.S. - THE OLD HOUSE FROM HIS VIEWPOINT - (NIGHT)
C.U. - ARBOGAST
comes to a decision. He goes off.
L.S. ARBOGAST
dashes up the stone steps to the House.
MEDIUM SHOT
CAMERA HOLDS as Arbogast goes up onto the porch. The house
is dark within except, as we can now see, for a faint spill
of light in the foyer, light which comes from the upstairs
hall. Arbogast goes to the living room window, looks in,
sees only darkness. Then he goes to the door, listens for
along moment, hears nothing.
Very slowly, almost painfully, he turns the knob of the door
and pushes gently with his arm and shoulder. The door begins
to open. He allows it to open just enough for him to slip
through and into the foyer.
CUT TO:
INT. FOYER OF BATES' HOUSE - (NIGHT)
Arbogast gradually eases the door closed, stands against it,
waiting. He looks up in the direction of the light, sees no
one. The door at the head of the stairs is closed. Arbogast
listens, holds his breath, hears what could be human sounds
coming from upstairs but realizes these could also be the
sounds of an old house after sunset. After a careful wait,
he crosses to the stairs, starts up, slowly, guardedly,
placing a foot squarely on each step to test it for squeaks
or groans before placing his full weight on it. CAMERA
FOLLOWS, remaining on floor level but TRAVELLING ALONG the
stairway as Arbogast makes his way up.
CUT TO:
EXTREMELY HIGH ANGLE
INT. STAIRWAY AND UPSTAIRS LANDING
We see Arbogast coming up the stairs. And now we see, too,
the door of the mother's room, opening, carefully and slowly.
As Arbogast reaches the landing, the door opens and the mother
steps out, her hand raises high, the blade of an enormous
knife flashing.
C.U. - A BIG HEAD OF AN ASTONISHED ARBOGAST
The knife slashes across his cheek and neck. Blood spurts.
The sudden attack throws him off balance. He stumbles back
and staggers down the whole of the staircase. He frantically
gropes for the balustrade as he goes backwards down the
stairs. The CAMERA FOLLOWS him all the way. A wicked knife
keeps thrusting itself into the foreground. As he collapses
at the bottom, the black head and shoulders of Mrs. Bates
plunges into the foreground as the CAMERA MOVES IN to contain
the raising and descending murder weapon.
FADE OUT
FADE IN
INT. BACK ROOM OF HARDWARE STORE - (NIGHT)
Lila is sitting close by the phone, and looks as if she hasn't
moved from it in the last hour. Sam is pacing, occasionally
stopping at the window, glancing out, pacing again. The ash
tray close to Lila is filled.
There is a thick atmosphere of smoke, tension and weariness
in the small, otherwise cozy room.
SAM
(at window, quietly)
Sometimes Saturday night has a lonely
sound. Ever notice, Lila?
LILA
(unable to keep up
small talk)
Sam. He said an hour. Or less.
SAM
It's been three.
LILA
Are we just going to go on sitting
here?
SAM
(suddenly cheerful)
He'll be back. Let's sit still and
hang on, okay?
LILA
You have an awfully nice habit, Sam.
SAM
Hundreds! Which one is your pet?
LILA
Whenever I start contemplating the
panic button, your back straightens
up and your eyes get that God-looks-
out-for-everybody look and... I feel
better.
SAM
I feel better when you feel better.
LILA
(a pause - then she
rises)
Where's the old highway?
SAM
You want to run out there, bust in
on Arbogast and the sick old lady,
shake her up and maybe spoil
everything Arbogast's been building
for the last three hours.
LILA
Yes.
SAM
That wouldn't be a wise thing to do.
LILA
Patience doesn't run in our family.
Sam, I'm going out there!
SAM
Arbogast said...
LILA
An hour! Or less!
Sam stares at her, frowns in concern over her very real
anxiety, goes to the phone, dials operator.
SAM
(into phone)
Got the number of the motel out on
the old highway? Bates, I think.
(waits)
LILA
Sam! Why call when we can go?
SAM
And maybe pass Arbogast on the road?
(into phone)
Thanks.
He presses down the receiver, releases it, dials Bates'
Motel. The faint other-end ringing tones can be heard,
repeatedly, annoyingly. He waits.
SAM
(to Lila)
Probably on his way back right now.
LILA
Sam, I'm going.
SAM
(hangs up and picks
up his jacket)
You'll never find it.
He starts for the door. Lila follows after him into the store.
INT. STORE
He pauses halfway down, turns, puts his hands on her arms.
SAM
Stay here.
LILA
Why can't I go out there with you?
SAM
(looks at her)
I don't know...
(he collects himself)
One of us has to be here in case
Arbogast's on the way.
LILA
(nervously)
Just wait here?
SAM
(a warm smile)
Contemplate your... panic button.
He hurries down to the street door and out. CAMERA HOLDS on
Lila as she stares after Sam. As she stands alone in the
darkened store, all the hardware seems to take on sinister
shapes.
C.U.
Among some bathroom fittings a nozzle from a shower falls
onto the floor.
MEDIUM SHOT
Lila turns and picks if from the floor and puts it back in
its place. She turns and again looks to the deserted street
with a touch of anxiety. She gives a slight unconscious
shiver.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. THE SWAMP - (NIGHT)
Tall and lonely still against the moonlight, the figure of
Norman, silhouetted. He doesn't move, merely stands there at
the edge of the swamp, staring down at the now calm and quiet
face of it.
CUT TO:
EXT. THE MOTEL AND HOUSE - (NIGHT)
All light are out, except the light in Norman's mother's
room. And her figure can be seen sitting in the window,
relaxed in a high-back chair, her face turned into the room.
After a second, we hear the SOUND OF A MOTOR, and then Sam's
small pick-up truck swings into the driveway.
Sam stops the motor, automatically switches off headlights,
pauses as he observes the silence and darkness of the area.
Then he hops out of the cab, goes quickly to the office,
knocks on the door. As he waits for a response, he looks
down the long porch, studies the darkened cabins, knocks
again, louder, looks in the other direction and sees the
house and the figure at the one lit window. He stares a moment
then calls loudly:
SAM
Arbogast?
CUT TO:
EXT. THE SWAMP
The silhouette of Norman. He is still. Over shot, very dimly,
comes the SOUND OF SAM'S VOICE, calling again for Arbogast.
Norman turns slowly until, in silhouette, we see his profile,
his chin lowered furtively as he looks over his shoulder in
the direction of the house. There is silence for a moment,
and then again the SOUND of Sam POUNDING at the door.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. HARDWARE STORE - (NIGHT)
The store is in darkness, only the glow from the back room
spilling in.
L.S.
With CAMERA placed with its back to the street door, we can
see the distant tiny figure of Lila seated and waiting in
the back room beyond. There is a SOUND of a car pulling up.
The tiny figure jumps up and runs all the way from the back
room down the aisle of hardware and comes into a BIG HEAD.
We see Lila's desperate anxious look.
MEDIUM SHOT
From her viewpoint we see Sam alighting from his truck and
coming toward the door of the store. He enters. He and Lila
exchange quiet glances.
SAM
He didn't come back here?
LILA
(worriedly)
Sam.
SAM
No Arbogast. No Bates. And only the
old lady at home...
(frowning)
A sick old lady unable to answer the
door... or unwilling.
LILA
Where could he have gone?
SAM
Maybe he got some definite lead.
Maybe he went right on...
LILA
Without calling me?
SAM
In a hurry.
LILA
Sam, he called me when he had nothing
definite, nothing but a dissatisfied
feeling. Don't you think he'd have
called if he had anything...
SAM
(interrupting)
Yes. I think he would have.
Lila goes quiet. Sam starts toward the back room, pauses at
the doorway, turns. Lila has remained by the door, looking
out at the street. She feels his pause, turns, and for a
moment they share at each other across the darkened room.
SAM
Let's go see Al Chambers.
LILA
Who's he?
SAM
He's the Deputy Sheriff around here.
As he starts forward.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. STREET THE SHERIFF LIVES ON - (NIGHT)
A dark, quiet, tree-ceilinged street, the small neat houses
dim in the moonlight. Sam's pick-up truck comes down the
street, pulls up before the house of Sheriff Chambers. CAMERA
MOVES IN on Sam and Lila as they remain for a moment in the
truck's cab, staring quietly at the sleeping house.
SAM
Our Deputy sleeps.
LILA
Well?
SAM
Nothing. Just... all the lights
out... must be asleep.
LILA
(a small exasperation)
Does that mean we can't...
SAM
No. I'm just procrastinating. People
hate when the doorbell rings in the
middle of the night.
(gives up, starts out)
Come on.
He gets out of cab, goes around to help Lila. She is already
out. CAMERA FOLLOWS them up the small path to the front door.
Sam presses the bell button. Both he and Lila are almost
knocked over by the shocking, clanging, ear-splitting BLAST
OF THE BELL within the house, a ring which sounds more like
a fire alarm than a doorbell.
He tries to smile, fails. Lila doesn't even try. The
downstairs hall light goes on and a moment later the door is
unhesitatingly opened by MRS. CHAMBERS, a small, lively stick
of a woman wrapped in a thick flannel robe and a corona of
hospitality.
MRS. CHAMBERS
Oh?
SAM
Sorry, Mrs. Chambers. I hate bothering
you...
MRS. CHAMBERS
You didn't!
(a cross look up at
the bell)
It's tinkerbell.
(a quick smile at
Lila)
Al wants to be sure he'll hear it if
anyone rings it in the middle of the
night.
(to Sam)
Well come on in, at least!
As she opens the door wide,
CUT TO:
INT. DOWNSTAIRS HALL OF SHERIFF'S HOUSE - (NIGHT)
Fat roses splatter the wallpaper. The stairs are carpeted.
The lighting is bright.
There is a perfectly fitting wall phone by the parlor arch.
Mrs. Chambers goes to the stairway, yells up.
MRS. CHAMBERS
Albert!
(a tiny wait, a smile
as Sam and Lila enter)
Al Chambers!
Sam is about to close the door behind him. Mrs. Chambers
motions for him not to, scurries across the hall, leans
outside, presses the doorbell. The RING within the house is
even more shattering. She closes the door, starts to the
stairway, pauses as the SOUNDS of movement above COME OVER
SHOT.
MRS. CHAMBERS
Customers!
SHERIFF CHAMBERS comes down the stairs, in a bathrobe which
matches his wife's. He is a tall, narrow man with a face
originally destined for Mount Rushmore. He nods at Sam, looks
at him with wide-awake eyes and a no-nonsense concern.
SAM
We have a problem.
MRS. CHAMBERS
(to Lila)
Let's go out back and have some coca
while the men are talking.
LILA
No, thank you. It's my problem, too.
SAM
I don't know where to start...
(a look at Lila)
Except at the beginning.
LILA
Yes.
SAM
(to Sheriff)
This is Lila Crane, from Phoenix.
She's been here for a few days,
looking for her sister. There's a
private detective helping... and,
well, we got a call tonight, from
this detective, saying he'd traced
Mary...
MRS. CHAMBERS
Mary is Lila's sister?
SAM
Yes. He traced her to that motel,
out on the old highway...
MRS. CHAMBERS
(to the Sheriff)
Bates' Motel.
(to Lila)
He has a mind like a mechanical brain
and the more information you feed
it... Go on, Sam.
SAM
He traced her there and called us to
say he was going to question Mrs.
Bates...
MRS. CHAMBERS
(a pleasant shock)
Norman took a wife?
SAM
No. An old woman, his mother.
(to Sheriff, quickly)
That was early this evening. And we
haven't seen or heard from him since.
I went out to the motel, just got
back. No one was in the office, and...
LILA
(interrupting,
anxiously)
Will you help us? I think something's
wrong out there!
SHERIFF
(after a considerate
pause)
Now. Your sister is missing how long?
LILA
She left Phoenix a week ago yesterday.
And no trace until...
SHERIFF
How'd you and this detective come to
trace her to Fairvale?
SAM
They thought she'd be coming to me.
SHERIFF
Left Phoenix under her own steam?
LILA
Yes.
SHERIFF
(a pause)
She ain't missing so much as she's
run away.
SAM
Yes.
SHERIFF
From what?
LILA
(a look at sam, then:)
She stole some money.
SHERIFF
A lot?
LILA
Forty thousand dollars.
SHERIFF
And the police haven't been able
to...
SAM
(interrupting)
Everyone concerned thought... if
they could get her to give back the
money... they could avoid involving
her with the police.
SHERIFF
Explains the private detective. He
traced her to the Bates place. What'd
he exactly say when he called you?
LILA
Mary had been there, one night, and
had left.
SHERIFF
With the forty thousand dollars?
LILA
He didn't mention the money.
(anxiously)
What he said on the phone isn't
important, is it? He was supposed
to come back after he spoke to the
mother, and he didn't! That's what I
want you to do something about!
SHERIFF
Like what?
LILA
Go out there! Find somebody, ask
some questions!
(a pause)
I'm sorry if I seem over-anxious to
you. I keep thinking... something's
wrong. I have to know what!
SHERIFF
I think something's wrong, too, Miss.
But not the same thing. I think your
private detective is what's wrong.
(As Lila is about to
object)
I think he got himself a hot lead as
to where your sister was going...
probably from Norman Bates... and
called you to keep you still while
he took off after her and the money.
LILA
He said he was dissatisfied... and
was going back.
MRS. CHAMBERS
(to Sheriff)
Why don't you call Norman and let
him say just what happened, if he
give the man a hot lead and he did
just scooted off... it'll make the
girl feel better, Albert.
SHERIFF
At this hour?
SAM
He was out when I was there. If he's
back he probably isn't even in bed
yet.
SHERIFF
He wasn't out when you were there.
He just wasn't answering the door in
the dead of night... like some people
do. This fellow lives like a hermit...
MRS. CHAMBERS
Recluse. Kinder word.
SHERIFF
(to Sam)
You must remember that bad business
out there. About ten years ago...
SAM
I've only been here five. Right now
it feels like ten, but...
LILA
All right! Then call! At least, call!
Mrs. Chambers goes to phone, dials operator.
MRS. CHAMBERS
(into phone)
Florrie, the Sheriff wants you to
connect him with the Bates Motel.
She hands the receiver to the Sheriff. He takes it,
reluctantly, listens to the dim sound of RINGING on the other
end. After a moment:
SHERIFF
(into phone)
Norman? Sheriff Chambers.
(listens)
Been just fine, thanks. Listen, we
got some worries here. Did you have
a man stop out there tonight...
(listens)
Well, this one wouldn't be a customer,
anyway. A private detective, name
of...
MRS. CHAMBERS
Arbogast.
SHERIFF
(into phone)
Arbogast.
(listens)
And after he left?
(listens)
No, it's okay, Norman. How's it been
going out there?
(listens)
Well, I think you oughta unload that
place and open up closer in to the
action, a smaller place, you know...
but...
LILA
Please!
SHERIFF
(into phone)
Sorry I got you up, boy. Go back to
sleep. Yeah, be glad to.
(hangs up, turns to
Mrs. Chambers)
Said to give you his regards.
SAM
(faint irony)
Was that all?
SHERIFF
This detective was out there and
Norman told him about the girl and
the detective thanked him and went
away.
LILA
And he didn't go back? Didn't see
the mother?
The Sheriff looks long at Lila, shakes his head
sympathetically.
SHERIFF
You should've called in the police
the second you found your sister has
skipped. You go starting private
investigations, using people you
don't even know...
LILA
What difference does that...
SHERIFF
Your Detective told you a nakedfaced
lie.
MRS. CHAMBERS
Barefaced.
SHERIFF
He told you he wasn't coming right
back cause he wanted to question
Norman Bates' mother, right?
LILA
Yes.
SHERIFF
(a pause, then calmly)
Norman Bates' mother has been dead
and buried in Greenlawn Cemetery for
the last ten years!
There is a long silence. Sam and Lila stare at the Sheriff.
MRS. CHAMBERS
I helped Norman pick out the dress
she was buried in. Periwinkle blue.
SHERIFF
It ain't only local history, Sam,
it's the only murder-and-suicide
case in Fairvale ledgers! Mrs.
Bates poisoned this guy she was...
involved with, when she found out he
was married, then took a helping of
the same stuff herself. Strychnine.
Ugly way to die.
MRS. CHAMBERS
Norman found them dead together. In
bed.
SAM
You mean that old woman I saw sittin'
in the window wasn't Norman Bates'
mother?
MRS. CHAMBERS
(hopefully, happily)
Maybe you saw Mary!
SAM
I'd know the difference between Mary
and an old woman.
SHERIFF
Now wait a minute, Sam. You sure you
saw an old woman?
SAM
Yes! In the house behind the motel.
I pounded and called but she... just
ignored me.
SHERIFF
And you want to tell me you saw Norman
Bates' mother.
LILA
It must've been. Arbogast said so,
too... and he said the young man
wouldn't let him see her because she
was ill!
The Sheriff stares at both of them, and when he finally speaks
there is an almost inaudible tone or irony in his voice.
SHERIFF
Well, if the woman up there is Mrs.
Bates... who's that woman buried out
at Greenlawn Cemetery?
QUICK CUT TO:
INT. NORMAN'S PARLOR BEHIND OFFICE - (NIGHT)
Norman sits in the dim, one-lamp light, the phone next to
him, his hand still near it as if he had not been able to
move his hand after hanging up. He is staring at the shrike-
like bird which is perched on the lamp shade. Decision and
resolution are beginning to show in his face. Suddenly he
rises, starts quickly out of the room, tries to switch off
the lamp as he goes and in so doing succeeds only in knocking
the bird off the shade.
He watches it fall, does not try to catch it. It hits the
floor with a thud and sawdust spills out. He stares sadly at
it, for a moment, then tends down, scoops up the sawdust,
tries to press it into the split seam, picks up the bird,
puts it in a drawer. Then he puts out the lamp, goes out,
crosses the darkened office and goes outside.
CUT TO:
EXT. MOTEL AND HOUSE - (NIGHT)
Norman comes off the porch, walks to the path and directly
up to the house, opens the door and goes in.
CUT TO:
INT. DOWNSTAIRS HALLWAY AND STAIRWAY - (NIGHT)
SHOOTING UP THE STAIRS
Norman goes up, pauses one moment outside his mother's door,
then opens it and goes in, leaving the door open.
For a moment we hear only Norman's low, quiet voice, his
words indistinguishable. Then we hear the cold shot of his
mother's derisive laughter.
MOTHER'S VOICE
I am sorry, boy, but you do manage
to look ludicrous when you give me
orders!
NORMAN'S VOICE
Please, mother...
MOTHER'S VOICE
(Sharp, laughter all
gone)
No! I will not hide in the fruit
cellar!
(A shrill laugh)
Think I'm fruity, huh?
(Hard, cold again)
I'm staying right here! This is my
room and no one will drag me out of
it... least of all my big bold son!
NORMAN'S VOICE
(Rising now, anxiously)
They'll come now, Mother. He came
after the girl and now someone will
come after him! How long do you think
you can go on... Mother, please,
just for a few days, just so they
won't find you!
MOTHER'S VOICE
(Mimicking)
Just for a few days...
(Furious)
In that dank fruit cellar? No! You
hid me there once, boy, and you won't
do it again! Not ever again! Now
get out!
(A pause, quiet)
I told you to get out, boy!
(A longer pause)
Norman! What do you think you're
going to do? Don't you touch me!
Don't! Norman!
(A pause, then
cajolingly)
All right, son, put me down and I'll
go. I'll go on my own two feet. I
can go on my own two feet, can't I?
During all this the CAMERA has been slowly creeping up the
stairs. It does not stop at the top however, but continues
on the same high angle that we had in Scene 57.
She starts to laugh, a terrible sound like an obscene melody.
NORMAN'S VOICE
I'll carry you, mother.
Norman comes out of the room, his mother held in his arms,
her head leaning against his shoulder. He carries her down
the stairs, along the lower landing to the cellar stairs,
and then down those stairs to the basement.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. FAIRVALE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH - (MORNING)
An overcast morning, but a sunny-faced crowd. The service is
just over, there is contentment, and peace, and just a little
I-went-to-church-smugness in the faces of the churchgoers as
they come out of the chapel, and spread their separate ways
away.
Amongst the crowd, waiting and searching the faces, are Sam
and Lila. In their expressions there is no peace, no
contentment. CAMERA MOVES IN CLOSE. They are not speaking.
Lila looks as if she has had no sleep.
Suddenly, Sam becomes alert, takes Lila's arm, starts toward
the church.
CAMERA MOVES WITH THEM, stops as they approach Sheriff and
Mrs. Chambers. The Sheriff stares rather sympathetically at
Lila. Mrs. Chambers smiles nicely.
SAM
We thought, if you didn't mind, we'd
go out to the motel with you.
MRS. CHAMBERS
He's already been.
SHERIFF
Went out before service.
MRS. CHAMBERS
Have you two had breakfast?
SAM
(To Sheriff, not a
question)
You didn't find anything.
SHERIFF
Nothing. Here, let's clear the path.
He moves away and the others follow. CAMERA PANS them to the
curb.
LILA
(Interrupting)
Did he say anything about my sister?
SHERIFF
Just what he told your detective.
She used a fake name, saw the register myself. Saw the whole
place, as a matter of fact. That boy is alone there.
SAM
No mother.
SHERIFF
You must've seen an illusion, Sam.
Now, I know you're not the seeing-
illusion type... But no woman was
illusion there and I don't believe
in ghosts, so there it is!
LILA
I still feel...
SHERIFF
Can see you do. Sorry I couldn't
make you feel better. You want to
come to my office this afternoon and
report a missing person... And the
theft, is what you want to do! Sooner
you drop this thing in the lap of
the law, that's the sooner you'll
stand a chance of your sister bein'
picked up. How about that?
LILA
I don't know.
MRS. CHAMBERS
It's Sunday. Come over and do the
reporting at the house, 'round dinner
time. Make it nicer. You too, Sam.
She smiles brightly, as if having invited them over to discuss
this year's charity fandango, takes the
Sheriff's arm, starts away. The Sheriff nods as he goes.
Sam and Lila are alone now, at the curb, before the deserted
chapel. For a long moment they just stand there, their faces
as gray and overcast as the sky.
SAM
Maybe I am the seeing-illusions type.
LILA
You're not.
Sam takes her arm, starts walking her up the street toward
the spot where his pick-up truck is parked.
CAMERA FOLLOWS them.
SAM
Want me to drop you at the hotel?
Or you want to come over to the store?
Lila does not answer. They reach the truck. Lila looks
directly at Sam as he helps her into the cab.
LILA
I won't feel satisfied unless I got
out there, Sam.
SAM
Neither will I.
He slams the door, hurries around truck, gets into driver's
seat, starts motor. As the truck drives off,
DISSOLVE TO:
SAM AND LILA IN TRUCK - (PROCESS - HIGHWAY)
For a moment, both are silent; Sam watching the road as if
there were other cars on it, Lila staring at nothing in
particular, except perhaps her own inner fear.
LILA
I wonder if we'll ever see Mary again.
SAM
Of course we will.
LILA
Alive.
Sam looks as if he'd like to say something humorous, something
to cheer her. He cannot. He remains silent.
LILA
We lived together all our lives.
When we woke up one morning and found ourselves orphans,
Mary quit college and got a job, so I could go to college.
SAM
Where'd you go to college?
LILA
I didn't. I got a job, too.
(A pause)
I wonder if that hurt her, my not
letting her sacrifice for me? Some
people are so willing to suffer for
you that they suffer more if you
don't let them.
SAM
(Almost to himself)
She was willing to lick the stamps.
Lila looks quizzically at him, is too concerned to pursue
it.
LILA
I wonder so many things about her
now. Why she never told me about
you... Funny, when you think there's
an answer to everything, you think
you know all the answers.
SAM
We were going to get married. Are
going to get married!
LILA
Do you know how I found out about
you? I found one of your letters...
it was a nice letter, Sam.
SAM
This is the old highway.
LILA
I suppose... when you were able to
marry her she'd have presented you,
all shiny and proper... she always
tried to be proper.
SAM
Watch your tenses.
LILA
Huh?
SAM
She always tries to be proper.
Sam slows the truck to a stop, sighs, starts to light up a
cigarette. Lila looks questioningly and impatiently at him.
LILA
You going to wait here for me?
SAM
I'm going with you. But we'd better
decide what we're going to say and
do when we walk in...
LILA
We're going to register. As man and
wife. And get shown to a cabin...
and then search every inch of that
place, inside and... outside.
SAM
You won't believe it...
(Starts motor)
But this will be the first time
I've ever pulled one of those man-
and-wife-renting-cabin capers!
LILA
(A tiny smile, first
in hours)
I believe it.
As truck starts to drive on,
CUT TO:
EXT. THE BATES MOTEL AND HOUSE - (DAY)
The place is empty and silent and washed dirty by the deep
gray of the cloudy sky. We see Sam's truck turning into the
driveway and pulling to a stop. After a moment, Sam and Lila
get out of the truck.
FRESH ANGLE
Close on Sam and Lila as they meet on the porch side of the
truck. The motel office and the house beyond can be seen in
b.g. of shot. Sam and Lila merely stare for a moment, then
turn and gaze up at the house. There is no figure in the
window and the shade is drawn. Same goes to the office door,
peers in, knocks, opens door, enters. Lila remains on the
driveway, beside the truck.
CUT TO:
INT. THE MOTHER'S ROOM - (DAY)
CLOSE ANGLE on Norman standing by the window. He has pulled
the curtains very slightly apart, is staring out and down at
the motel, his eyes studying the lone figure of Lila, who is
standing by the truck and looking up at the house. Norman
studies her, and as her eyes look up at this very window he
closes the curtains, turns away.
We see the suspicion and fear in his face, the surge of panic
and his struggle to contain it. Then he goes away. CAMERA
remains on window, shooting out and down, and through the
frail curtains we can see Sam as he comes out of the motel
office and joins Lila.
EXT. MOTEL OFFICE - CLOSE ON SAM AND LILA
SAM
(Unconsciously
whispering)
I wonder where Norman Bates does his
hermiting?
LILA
Someone was at that window. I saw
the curtain move.
Sam takes Lila's arm.
SAM
Come on.
He starts with her toward the path which leads to the old
house. CAMERA PANS with them, and as they turn around the
office corner, they see Norman coming down the path toward
them. They pause and Norman pauses. He does not smile, nor
speak. His usual grin and soft friendliness are gone;
containment and impassivity lie in their place.
SAM
(Cheerfully)
Just coming up to ring for you.
NORMAN
(Coming forward)
I suppose you want a cabin.
SAM
We'd hoped to make it straight to
San Francisco, but we don't like the
look of that sky. Looks like a bad
day coming... doesn't it.
Norman walks past Sam, giving him the sort of quick,
disapproving glance one gives a man who is obviously lying,
goes onto the porch and into the office. Sam and Lila follow
Norman.
INT. MOTEL OFFICE - (DAY)
Norman crosses to the desk, goes behind it, takes the key to
cabin number twelve off the keyboard. Sam and Lila have
entered and are almost to the desk-counter by this time.
NORMAN
I'll take you to...
SAM
Better sign in first, hasn't we?
Sam eyes scan the counter, looking for a registration book.
NORMAN
It isn't necessary.
SAM
(Interrupting with a
friendly cheerfulness)
Uh, uh! My boss is paying for this
trip... ninety percent business...
and he wants practically notarized
receipts. I better sign in and get a
receipt.
Norman stares at Sam, as if he'd like to yell at him, call
him "liar." Instead he reaches under the desk counter, brings
out the registration book. Lila moves closer, studies the
book as Sam signs in. Sam signs "Joe and Mrs. Johnson." The
signature and city of "Marie Samuels" and after it, the
notation "Cabin One," can be clearly seen three registrations
above Sam's.
When Sam has finished he closes book, hands it back to Norman.
Norman does not take it, starts out from behind counter.
NORMAN
I'll get your bags.
SAM
Haven't any.
NORMAN
(after a stare)
I'll show you the cabin.
As he starts for the door, Sam laughs. Norman stops, turns,
looks at him.
SAM
First time I've seen it happen.
(to Lila)
Check in any place in this country
without bags, and you have to pay in
advance.
Sam smiles as if at a funny remark, takes a bill out of his
pocket.
NORMAN
Ten dollars...
Norman returns to Sam, takes the extended bill, is about to
start out again.
SAM
That receipt...?
Norman goes reluctantly behind counter, lays down the key to
cabin twelve, takes a receipt book out of the drawer under
counter, starts to write. Lila steps up to the desk, picks
up the key, quickly, starts out.
LILA
I'll start ahead.
Norman looks up, gazes her as she goes out door.
EXT. THE MOTEL - (DAY)
Lila comes along the porch, pauses before cabin one, tries
the door. It opens. She closes it quickly as she hears Sam
and Norman coming out of the motel office, continues on down
the porch.
SAM
(To Norman, who is
following)
Don't bother yourself... we'll find
it.
He goes on down the porch, doesn't even glance at cabin one,
walks quickly and catches up to Lila just as she reaches
cabin twelve. CAMERA REMAINS with Norman, who is standing by
the office door, looking after Sam and Lila, his face alert
and no longer impassive. He waits a moment, after they have
closed their cabin door, then crosses to the pickup truck.
CAMERA MOVES with him. He studies the truck, then leans in
through the driver's window, twists the registration card
around, reads it.
It gives the correct name and address of Sam Loomis.
Norman comes back out of the window, glances once more toward
cabin twelve, then at the old house. His suspicions are
confirmed, and now there is the relaxation of relief in his
face. He takes on a purposeful air, turns, strides up the
path, up onto the porch of the house, opens the door, goes
in.
INT. CABIN TWELVE - (DAY)
Lila is at the cabin's rear window, looking out, straining
for a glimpse of the old house, which cannot be seen from
the window of this cabin.
She turns, frustrated, anxious. Sam is standing at the foot
of the bed, staring at the smooth coverlet, his brow creased
in a sadness.
LILA
We should have asked for Cabin One...
The one Mary was in.
SAM
I'm glad we didn't.
He pulls his eyes from the bed, crosses to the desk, sits
wearily, lights a cigarette. Lila watches him for a moment,
feels a real compassion, goes to the bed, sits on its edge,
turns again and looks at Sam's back.
LILA
We have to go into that cabin and
search it, Sam... no matter what
we're afraid of finding and no matter
how much it may hurt.
SAM
I know.
(A pause)
Do you think if something happened,
it happened there?
LILA
(A pause, then:)
Sam, if you owned a useless business
like this motel... one you probably
couldn't even sell... what would
you need to get away, to start a new
business, somewhere else?
(As Sam studies her)
Forty thousand dollars?
SAM
How could we prove...
(An almost hopeless
laugh)
Well, if he opens a new motel on the
new highway... say, a year from now...
LILA
There must be some proof that exists
right now! Something that proves he
got that money away from Mary...
Some way!
SAM
What makes you sound so certain?
LILA
Arbogast! Sam, he liked me... or
felt sorry for me... and he was
starting to feel the same about you.
I heard it when he called... in his
voice, a caring. He wouldn't have
gone anywhere or done anything without
telling us. Unless he was stopped.
And he was stopped, so he must have
found out something!
Sam considers a moment, nods agreement, rises.
SAM
We'll start with Cabin One.
He goes to the door, opens it slightly, looks out, then,
back to Lila:
SAM
If he sees us... we're just taking
the air.
Lila goes to the door. He holds it open and she goes out.
EXT. THE MOTEL - (DAY)
Sam closes the door, joins Lila, takes her hand.
Together they walk along the porch in the direction of Cabin
One. CAMERA FOLLOWS. They pause before the door of Cabin
One. Sam motions Lila to wait, to hold still, then goes on
to the office, opens the door, calls in:
SAM
Bates?
He waits, there is no response. He goes in and in a moment
comes back out, closes the door, goes to Lila.
She has already opened the door of Cabin One and has started
to enter.
INT. CABIN ONE - (DAY)
The blinds are closed and the room is almost night-dark.
Sam comes in after Lila, closes the door behind him.
For a moment they just gaze at the room, as if willing it to
tell them some satisfactory story.
Neither speaks. Then, in dark silence, they begin to search,
going methodically and thoroughly through all drawers, the
closet, the desk, searching under the bed and in dark corners,
not knowing what they expect to find and yet expecting to
find some thing. Lila opens the bathroom door, looks in. The
windowless room is very dark. She switches on the light,
goes in. Sam moves toward the bathroom, is about to follow
her in when he notices which room it is and automatically
catches himself up, backs out.
SAM
Sorry.
LILA
Hospital clean.
SAM
What?
LILA
The bathroom. Look at how clean it
is. The one in our cabin is clean...
but this is clean!
Sam goes in, glances around, nods. Lila goes through the
medicine cabinet, finds nothing but a glass and two tiny
tabs of soap. Sam leans against the door-jamb, looks at the
tub, the shower pipe above it. He continues to stare, more
interested suddenly, as if bothered by some off-key evidence
he can't put his finger on. Then he looks at the shower
curtain rod.
And realizes there is no shower curtain. He frowns, is about
to say something when Lila, who has been momentarily out of
shot, interrupts.
Sam turns, CAMERA TURNS, and we see Lila is standing above
the toilet bowl, a tiny piece of wet paper stuck to the tip
of her right index finger.
SAM
What is it?
LILA
It didn't get washed down. It's
figuring... the kind you tear up and
get rid of.
(Extending her finger
toward Sam)
Some figure has been added to or
subtracted from... forty thousand.
Sam lifts the piece of paper off her finger, studies it,
takes out his wallet, presses the wet scrap to his driver's
license shield, puts it back in the wallet and puts the wallet
away.
LILA
That's proof Mary was here! It would
be too wild a coincidence for somebody
else to...
SAM
(Reminding)
Bates never denied Mary was here.
LILA
(Reminded)
Yes.
(A thought)
But maybe this proves that Bates
found out about the money.
SAM
Do we simply ask him where he's hidden
it?
LILA
Sam, that old woman, whoever she is.
I think she told Arbogast something!
And I want her to tell us the same
thing!
She starts out of the bathroom. Sam takes hold of her arm,
stops her.
SAM
You can't go up there.
LILA
Why not?
SAM
Bates.
CAMERA STARTS TO PAN AWAY from them, moves slowly over the
room, very slowly.
LILA'S VOICE (O.S.)
Let's find him. One of us can keep
him occupied while the other gets to
the woman.
SAM'S VOICE (O.S.)
You won't be able to hold him still
if he doesn't want to be held. And I
don't like you going into that house
alone, Lila.
CAMERA HAS PANNED clear across to the opposite wall now, and
is moving up closer and closer to the tiny-flowered wall
paper, finally closing in on one small rosebud.
LILA'S VOICE (O.S.)
I can handle a sick old woman.
Now we see that the rosebud has been cut out, that this is
the reverse side of the hole Norman peeped through to watch
Mary. And we see the pupil of Norman's eye now.
SAM'S VOICE (O.S.)
All right. I'll find Bates and keep
him occupied.
The eye moves away and there is a brief flash of light before
the hole is covered, on the other side, by the wall-hung
painting.
FRESH ANGLE - LILA AND SAM
They are about to start out. Sam stops her again.
SAM
Wait a minute. If you get anything
out of the mother...
(A thought)
Can you find your way back to town?
(As Lila nods yes)
If you do get anything, don't stop
to tell me.
Lila nods quickly, hurries to the door. Sam gets to it first,
opens it a slight crack, looks out, then opens it wide enough
for Lila and Himself to pass through.
EXT. THE MOTEL - (DAY)
ANGLE CLOSE on cabin one as Lila comes out, turns to her
left, goes along porch toward cabin twelve. Sam remains at
the door, then turns right, heading for the path. As he passes
the office, he is shocked to see Norman standing just inside
the open door.
NORMAN
Looking for me?
SAM
(Recovering)
Yes, matter of fact.
(The friendly grin)
The wife's taking a nap and... I can
never keep quiet enough for her...
so I thought I'd look you up and...
talk.
NORMAN
Satisfied with your cabin?
SAM
Fine.
Sam starts into the office. Just before going in, he glances
down the long porch, sees Lila standing outside the door of
cabin twelve, waves her a tiny "all clear" signal.
LILA
CAMERA ANGLES to include Lila and her point of view.
She watches Sam disappear into the office, waits until she
hears the door close, then looks about for another way to
reach the house. She sees the small alley at the end of this
L of cabins, starts toward it.
EXT. REAR OF MOTEL - S.C.U. LILA - (DAY)
Behind the motel Lila hesitates. She looks ahead.
LONG SHOT - (DAY)
The old house standing against the sky.
CLOSE UP - (DAY)
Lila moves forward.
LONG SHOT - (DAY)
The CAMERA approaching the house.
CLOSE UP - (DAY)
Lila glances toward the back of Norman's parlor. She moves
on.
LONG SHOT - (DAY)
The house coming nearer.
CLOSE UP - (DAY)
Lila looks up at the house. She moves forward purposefully.
S.L.S. - (DAY)
The house and the porch.
CLOSE UP - (DAY)
Lila stops at the house and looks up. She glances back.
She turns to the house again.
S.L.S. - (DAY)
The CAMERA MOUNTS the steps to the porch.
C.U. - (DAY)
Lila puts out her hand.
S.C.U. - (DAY)
Lila's hand pushes the door open. We see the hallway.
Lila ENTERS PAST CAMERA.
INT. DOWNSTAIRS HALLWAY OF OLD HOUSE - (DAY)
Lila closes the door, remains by it for a moment, quiet,
listening. Her eyes scan the layout, the closed door which
leads off the hallway, to the dining room on the right and
the parlor on the left. Down at the end of the hall is the
kitchen, the door wide open, the room beyond dim and silent.
She notices the stairs leading down to the basement, stares
at them, then back to the stairs leading to the second floor.
She starts forward, and seems about to investigate the parlor
and dining room.
INT. THE MOTEL OFFICE - (DAY)
Norman is behind the counter, standing, staring at Sam who
is sitting relaxedly on a small sofa. Norman has the look of
one who is protecting himself, as if the counter were a
protective wall against the threatening world across it.
SAM
(Cheerfully, as if
after a self-conscious
pause)
I've been doing all the talking so
far, haven't I?
NORMAN
Yes.
SAM
I always thought it was the people
who are alone so much who do all the
talking when they get the chance.
Yet there you are, doing all the
listening!
(A pause)
You are alone here, aren't you?
(As Norman does not
reply)
It would drive me crazy.
NORMAN
That would be a rather extreme
reaction, wouldn't it?
SAM
(Lightly)
Just an expression...
(More seriously)
What I meant was... I'd do just about
anything... to get away. Wouldn't
you?
INT. DOWNSTAIRS HALLWAY AND STAIRS OF OLD HOUSE - (DAY)
Lila is halfway up the stairs. As she climbs she is startled
by the creaks and groans of the old wood of the steps. She
steps more carefully. CAMERA remains at foot of stair, TILTING
UP as Lila climbs. She pauses at the head of the stair. The
door on her right, which opens into the mother's room, is
closed. To her left is another door, half-open. Directly
before her is a third door, closed. She holds a long moment,
trying to picture in her mind which room would look out on
the front of the house, decides, chooses the correct door,
the one on her right. She goes to it, knocks lightly.
INT. THE MOTHER'S ROOM (DAY) - CLOSE ANGLE ON DOOR
We hear Lila's second knock, then, faintly, her soft call.
LILA'S VOICE (O.S.)
Mrs. Bates?
There is quiet for a moment, then the door begins to open,
and we see Lila. She stands on the threshold, looking in at
the room, instantly disturbed by it, almost chilled, her
expression indicating an impulse to close the door and go
away from this room forever.
After a moment, she enters, leaving the door open behind
her. CAMERA PULLS BACK AND AWAY and we now see the room as
Lila sees it.
It is ornate, damask-and-mahogany, thick and warm and ripe,
an olla podrida of mismated furnishings and bric-a-brac of
the last century. The bed is four poster, but uncanoped; the
dressing table is fancy and flounced with satin; there is a
great chiffonier, a big-doored wardrobe, a large, oval, full-
length pier-glass (this against the wall directly opposite
the door), a satin recamier, an upholstered armchair by the
window, a white marble fireplace, its grate cold but piled
with ashes.
And there is in the room an unmistakably live quality, as if
even though it is presently unoccupied, it has not been long
vacated by some musty presence.
Lila glances at the bed. The damask coverlet is thrown over
it, but it is not neat, there is the imprint of a body on
it, a body which obviously has slept in a curled-up, womb-
like position. Lila stares at it for a moment, up, then goes
to the dressing table. Its top is scattered with boxes and
jars of cosmetics and creams, traces of fresh powder, an
opened bottle or perfume, a comb, and a brush with traces of
hair in its bristles. Lila moves on, catches a glimpse of
herself in the pier-glass, is startled, turns away, goes to
the chiffonier, is about to open a drawer, sees the high
wardrobe out of the corner of her eyes, goes to it,
hesitantly. She opens one door. Fresh, clean, well pressed
dresses hang neatly. Lila opens the other door. The sweaters
and dresses and robes hang freely, none in moth-proof, storage-
type bags. There is even a well-brushed collar of foxes.
Along the floor of the wardrobe is a line of clean, polished
shoes. Lila stares, then closes the door, turns, looks once
again over the whole room, starts out,
INT. THE UPSTAIRS HALLWAY OF THE OLD HOUSE - (DAY)
Lila comes out of the mother's room, closes the door behind
her, looks down the stairs, then starts across the hall to
the room whose door is half-open. The room within is dark,
the shades drawn full.
Lila pauses on the threshold, reaches in, feels the wall,
throws on a switch.
INT. MOTEL OFFICE - (DAY)
Sam has risen, is standing by the counter now.
SAM
I'm not saying you shouldn't be
contented here, I'm just doubting
that you are. I think if you saw a
chance to get out from under...
you'd unload this place...
NORMAN
(Angrily)
This place! This isn't 'a place.'
It's my only world. I grew up in
that house back there. I was a happy
child. My mother and I... we were
more than happy.
SAM
And now that your mother's dead?
Norman snaps a sharp, fast, ugly look at him.
NORMAN
My mother is not dead!
SAM
(Softly)
I didn't think so.
INT. NORMAN'S ROOM IN THE OLD HOUSE - (DAY)
Lila is standing in the doorway, staring at the room in sick
dismay. The room is grotesque, a horrible, ludicrous fantasy
of childhood held beyond the point of decency.
It is a small room. The walls are fancied with romping
silhouettes of teddy-bears and sailboats and carousels and
fat cows jumping over aghast moons. The bed is small, far
too short for a man of Norman's height. And yet the rumpled
covers indicate that it is in this bed that Norman sleeps.
Next to the bed is an old-fashioned toy chest. On its top
there are a bird-in-a-cage lamp, a plain-bound book, and an
ash tray filled with ashes and cigarette stubs. A grown man's
shirt hangs on a child's clothes tree.
Against one wall there is a narrow, high bookcase filled
with thick, unchildish-looking books. On the small, white
chest of drawers there is an old, child's victrola. The record
on the turntable is discovered, on close inspection, to be
Beethoven's Eroica Symphony.
Lila studies the room, fascinated and repelled. She glances
at the bookcase, comes into the room, goes to the bookcase
and pulls out a thick, large, plain-bound book. She opens
it. Her eyes go wide in shock. And then there is disgust.
She slams the book closed, drops it.
INT. THE MOTEL OFFICE - (DAY)
Norman, behind the counter, has moved back against the wall.
Sam is still on the other side of the counter, but is leaning
forward, his eyes hard on Norman's face.
Norman's face is no longer expressionless. It has the stark,
high sheen of a cornered animal.
SAM
(Pressing)
You look frightened. Have I been
saying something frightening?
NORMAN
I don't know what you've been saying.
SAM
I've been talking about your mother...
about your motel. How are you going
to do it?
NORMAN
Do what?
SAM
Buy a new one! In a new town!
Where you won't have to hide your
mother!
NORMAN
Shut up!
SAM
Where will you get the money to do
that, Bates... or do you already
have it... socked away... a lot of
it...
NORMAN
Leave me alone!
SAM
...Forty thousand dollars!
NORMAN
Leave me alone!
He is close to panic now. He turns, swiftly, dashes back
into his private parlor. Sam goes quickly around the counter,
follows.
INT. NORMAN'S PRIVATE PARLOR - (DAY)
Norman hears Sam following, wants to run, to never be reached
by this man. He crosses the small room, drawn to the rear
window, as if he might fly through it. Sam enters, pauses.
Norman turns, back against the window, as unable to fly away
as are the many still, stuffed birds. Sam registers a brief
flicker of reaction when he sees the birds, but continues to
gaze at Norman, hard.
SAM
I bet your mother knows where the
money is. And what you did to get
it. And I think she'll tell us.
Something self-assured and confident in Sam's tone gives
Norman a new, more terrified alarm. He turns his head, glances
out the window at the old house. He looks back at Sam and
there is terror in his voice.
NORMAN
Where's that girl? The girl you came
with! Where is she?
Sam does not respond, smiles a half-smile, turns to examine
a stuffed owl. Norman looks back at the house.
NORMAN
(A horrible groan)
Oh, God!
INT. UPSTAIRS HALL OF THE OLD HOUSE - (DAY)
Lila, shaken and disturbed, almost sickened, is coming out
of Norman's room. She has left the light on. She pauses in
the middle of the landing, looks at the closed door opposite
the stairs, goes to it, opens it, sees that it is the
bathroom, pulls the door to, turns, starts toward the stairs.
INT. NORMAN'S PRIVATE PARLOR - (DAY)
Sam is lying on the floor, face downward, unmoving. A
candlestick is on the floor, close by his head, still rocking
as if just dropped. OVER SHOT comes the SOUND of Norman's
footsteps and CAMERA TURNS in time to catch a brief glimpse
of him going out into the office, almost at a run.
INT. STAIRWAY OF THE OLD HOUSE - (DAY)
Lila is on the top step, looking down toward CAMERA.
She is listening, hoping to hear some human sound, some sound
she might follow, pursue. She hears nothing. She starts down
the stairs. Just below the halfway step, she looks at the
front door, sees out through the door window:
LILA'S VIEWPOINT - (DAY)
Norman coming.
INT. STAIRWAY OF THE OLD HOUSE - (DAY)
For a moment Lila panics, then she hurries down the steps,
cannot go in the direction of the front door, remembers the
stairway behind her, turns and runs in that direction. The
SOUND of Norman bounding up the porch steps can be heard.
Lila turns and dashes down the stairs which lead to the
basement, going down far enough to conceal herself, crouching
there.
Norman enters the hallway, closes the door softly, listens.
He glances once in the direction of the basement stairs. He
seems about to smile, when suddenly all expression vanishes
from his face, and he appears to enter a no-place, no-time
state. He crosses to the stairway, goes up.
Lila remains crouched on the basement stairs, listening to
the SOUNDS of Norman. His footsteps on the stairs followed
by the fast noises of doors opening, of fast moving about an
upstairs room. Convinced that he is searching the upstairs
for her, she decides to chance an escape. She starts up the
steps, is about to turn into the hallway when her eye is
caught by a glimmer of light down in the basement. She pauses,
looks down, sees the crack of light coming from behind the
not entirely closed door to the fruit cellar. The swift moving
SOUNDS of Norman continue to come from upstairs.
Lila is torn, knows she should get out of the house while
she has the chance, is unable to resist the impulse to check
that hidden-looking room down below, a room in which, she
desperately believes, there must lie some answer to what
happened to Mary. She turns and goes softly and quickly down
the stairs.
INT. THE BASEMENT OF THE OLD HOUSE - (DAY)
Lila reaches the bottom, stops, listens, hears the stairboards
creaking as footsteps fall hard and measured upon them. She
turns, pulls open the fruit cellar door, looks in. The woman
is sitting in a comfortable chair, the back of the chair,
and the woman, turned to the door. Lila calls a harsh,
frightened whisper.
LILA
Mrs. Bates...?
Lila goes into the room.
INT. THE FRUIT CELLAR
Lila goes to the chair, touches it. The touch disturbs the
figure. It starts to turn, slowly, stiffly, a clock-wise
movement. Lila looks at it in horror. It is the body of a
woman long dead. The skin is dry and pulled away from the
mouth and the teeth are revealed as in the skeleton's smile.
The eyes are gone from their sockets, the bridge of the nose
has collapsed, the hair is dry and wild, the cheeks are
sunken, the leathery-brown skin is powdered and rouged and
flaky. The body is dressed in a high-neck, clean, well-pressed
dress, obviously recently laundered and hand-ironed.
The movement of this stuffed, ill-preserved cadaver, turning
as if in response to Lila's call and touch, is actually
graceful, ballet-like, and the effect is terrible and obscene.
Lila gazes for one flicker of a deathly moment, then begins
to scream, a high, piercing, dreadful scream.
And Lila's scream is joined by another scream, a more
dreadful, horrifying scream which comes from the door behind
her.
NORMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
(screaming)
Ayeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Am Norma
Bates!
Lila turns.
NORMAN
His face is contorted. He wears a wild wig, a mockery of a
woman's hair. He is dressed in a high-neck dress which is
similar to that worn by the corpse of his mother. His hand
is raised high, poised to strike at Lila. There is a long
breadknife in it.
LILA
Close on her face. She is dumb-struck. Her eyes are screaming.
BACK TO NORMAN
As he is about to start forward, a man's hand reaches in
from the doorway behind, grabs Norman's wrist. Sam comes
through the door, still holding tight to the wrist, pulling
back the arm and at the same time throwing himself at Norman,
football tackle style.
SERIES OF CUTS - THE FIGHT
Norman and Sam, struggling. The wild fury in Norman's face,
the mad noise of his screams and vile curses. The terrified,
fight-to-the-death look of Sam. The still, staring Lila.
MRS. BATES
A close of her face, She appears to be watching and enjoying
the fight. Over the shot, the SOUNDS of the struggle, the
screams of Norman.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. COURTHOUSE AT READING - (NIGHT)
There are many people gathered about the steps, the curious
and the concerned and the morbid. At the curb, a couple of
newspaper cars, two or three police cars, and a mobile unit
truck from the local television outlet. There is noise, and
chattering as questions are asked and answers given, and the
sounds of traffic, and of the television equipment being
moved into the courthouse, for on-the-scene reporting, and
the stern voices of policemen trying to keep people back.
The scene has a bright glare about it, that quality of sudden
light thrown on a fearful darkness.
CLOSER ANGLE ON STEPS OF COURTHOUSE
A POLICEMAN trying to make way for the television men,
muttering "keep back," etc., to the spectators. A TELEVISION
MAN, carrying a piece of equipment goes through door, and
CAMERA FOLLOWS him into the courthouse vestibule.
Here, too, there is a crowd, composed of Policemen, Reporters,
Television Men. The Television Men we have been following
stops beside a Policeman.
TELEVISION MAN
(Indicating the front
door he has just
come in through)
You think they'll take him out that
way?
POLICEMAN
(Looking at waiting
crowd, shrugging)
Probably have to.
(A rueful smile)
Besides, the taxpayers hate it when
something gets slipped out the back
door on them!
Over this exchange, the buzz of other voices, the movement
of men. CAMERA MOVES ON, down the corridor, gets to the door
of the office of the Chief of Police just as a young fellow
with a carton box filled with paper containers of sent-out-
for coffee reaches this door. CAMERA HOLDS as the COFFEE BOY
pauses a moment, then goes into the room.
CUT TO:
INT. OFFICE OF THE CHIEF OF POLICE - (NIGHT)
Lila is seated in a chair, Sam standing close by. A bit apart
from them, we see Sheriff Chambers, in quiet conference with
the CHIEF OF POLICE, the COUNTY SHERIFF, the DISTRICT
ATTORNEY.
The Coffee Boy stands in the doorway. Sam goes to him, takes
a container of coffee from the box, carries it to Lila,
checking the notation on the lid as he goes.
MED. CLOSE ON SAM AND LILA
SAM
(quietly)
It's regular. Okay?
LILA
(ruefully)
I could stand something regular.
Sam smiles encouragingly, hands her the coffee. Sheriff
Chambers ENTERS SHOT, gives Sam a container of coffee he has
brought for him. Sam takes it, nods a thank you.
For a moment no one speaks. Lila looks badly shaken, Sam
disheveled, but contained.
CHAMBERS
You two can go on home if you like.
(a sympathetic look
at Lila)
Making that statement was enough for
one night.
SAM
(to Lila)
Want to?
LILA
No. I'm all right. I'll feel better
when all this is explained... if it
can be.
Sam looks a question at Sheriff Chambers. Chambers shrugs
doubtfully.
CHAMBERS
If anybody gets any answers, it'll
be the fellow talking to him now...
the Psychiatrist. Even I couldn't
reach Norman... and he knows me.
(to Lila)
You warm enough, Miss?
Lila is about to answer, when she sees someone come into the
room and rises anxiously. Sam and Sheriff Chambers turn,
follow her gaze.
INT. OFFICE OF CHIEF OF POLICE - FULL SHOT
A young man with a serious, frowning face has just come into
the room. He is DR. SIMON, the Psychiatrist.
He goes to the desk where the box of coffee containers has
been placed, takes up a container.
DISTRICT ATTORNEY
Did he talk to you?
SIMON
No. I got the whole story... but not
from Norman. I got it from... his
mother.
Everyone gazes at him, mystified. He speaks as he removes
lid from coffee container.
SIMON
Norman Bates no longer exists. He
only half-existed to begin with...
now, the other half has taken over.
Probably for all time.
LILA
(With difficulty)
Did he kill my sister?
SIMON
Yes... and no.
DISTRICT ATTORNEY
Look, if you're trying to lay a lot
of psychiatric groundwork for some
sort of plea this fellow would like
to cop...
SIMON
A psychiatrist doesn't lay the
groundwork .. he merely tries to
explain it.
LILA
But my sister is...
SIMON
Yes. I'm sorry.
(to Chambers)
The Private Investigator, too. If
you drag that swamp somewhere in the
vicinity of the motel...
(To the Chief of Police)
Have you any unsolved missing persons
cases on your books?
CHIEF OF POLICE
Yes. Two.
SIMON
Young girls?
CHIEF OF POLICE
(nods, astounded,
then:)
Did he confess to...
SIMON
(interrupting)
As I said, the mother...
(Pauses, goes on afresh)
To understand it, as I understood it
hearing it from the mother... That
is, from the mother-half of Norman's
mind, you have to go back ten years...
to the time when Norman murdered his
mother and her lover.
(A pause, then as no
one interrupts)
He was already dangerously disturbed,
had been ever since his father died.
His mother was a clinging, demanding
woman... and for years the two of
them lived as if there was no one
else in the world. Then she met a
man and it seemed to Norman she "threw
him over" for this man. That pushed
him over the thin line... and he
killed them both. Matricide is
probably the most unbearable crime
of all... and most unbearable to the
son who commit it. So he had to erase
the crime, at least in his own mind.
(A pause)
He stole her corpse... and a weighted
coffin was buried. He hid the body
in the fruit cellar, even "treated"
it to keep it as well as it would
keep. And that still wasn't enough.
She was there, but she was a corpse.
So he began to think and speak for
her, gave her half his life, so to
speak. At times he could be both
personalities, carry on
conversations... at other times, the
mother-half took over completely. He
was never all Norman, but he was
often only mother. And because he
was so pathologically jealous of
her, he assumed she was as jealous
of him. Therefore, if he felt a strong
attraction to any other woman, the
mother side of him would go wild.
(To Lila)
When Norman met your sister, he was
touched by her... and aroused by
her. He wanted her. And this set off
his "jealous mother" and... "mother
killed the girl." After the murder,
Norman returned as if from a deep
sleep... and like a dutiful son,
covered up all traces of the crime
he was convinced his mother had
committed.
SAM
Why was he... dressed like that?
DISTRICT ATTORNEY
He's a transvestite!
SIMON
Not exactly. A man who dresses in
woman's clothing in order to achieve
a sexual change... or satisfaction...
is a transvestite. But in Norman's
case, he was simply doing everything
possible to keep alive the illusion
of his mother being alive. And
whenever reality came too close,
when danger or desire threatened
that illusion, he'd dress up, even
to a cheap wig he brought, and he'd
walk about the house, sit in her
chair, speak in her voice... He tried
to be his mother.
(A sad smile)
And now he is.
(A pause)
That's what I meant when I said I
got the story from the mother. She
thinks Norman has been taken away...
because of his crimes. She insists
she did nothing, that Norman committed
all the murders just to keep her
from being discovered. She even smiled
a bit coquettishly as she said that.
Of course, she feels badly about
it... but also somewhat relieved to
be, as she put it, free of Norman,
at last.
(A pause)
When the mind houses two
personalities, there is always a
battle. In Norman's case, the battle
is over... and the dominant
personality has won.
Lila begins to weep softly, for Mary, for Arbogast, for
Norman, for all the destroyed human beings of this world.
Sam bends beside her, puts his arm about her, comforts her.
CHAMBERS
(To Simon)
And the forty thousand dollars? Who
got that?
SIMON
The swamp. These were murders of
passion, not profit.
A POLICE GUARD puts his head in the door, speaks, in a near-
whisper, to the Chief of Police. The Guard is carrying a
folded blanket over his arm.
POLICE GUARD
He feels a little chill... can I
bring him this blanket?
The Chief of Police nods. The Guard goes away, and CAMERA
FOLLOWS him out of the room and out into the hallway. Guard
moves through the waiting men, heading down the corridor.
CUT TO:
INT. ANOTHER CORRIDOR IN COURTHOUSE
A narrower corridor in the rear of the building. In f.g. of
shot, we see a door, the top half of which is wire-covered
glass. A GUARD in uniform is posted by the door, looking
reprovingly at the two or three people trying to get a glance
into the room.
The Police Guard, carrying the blanket, comes down this
corridor, goes to the door. CAMERA MOVES CLOSE. The uniformed
Guard opens the door, allows the man to go in.
Shot is RAKED so that we can not see into the room.
After a moment, the Guard comes out and the uniformed Guard
closes and locks the door and we
CUT TO:
INT. NORMAN'S DETENTION ROOM - (NIGHT)
The walls are white and plain. There is no window.
There is no furniture except the straight-back chair in which
Norman sits, in the center of the room. The room has a quality
of no-whereness, of calm separation from the world.
The Police Guard has placed the blanket on Norman's knees.
Norman, as we come upon him, is lifting the blanket, unfolding
it. His face, although without makeup and without the
surrounding softness of the wig, has a certain femininity
about it, a softness about the mouth and a kind of arch
womanliness about the brows.
Calmly, Norman places the blanket about his shoulders, as if
it were a cashmere shawl. CAMERA REMAINS in a position so
that our view of Norman is a FULL ONE. When the shawl is in
position, and Norman is settled, we HEAR, OVER SHOT, the
voice of his mother, coming from the calm of his thoughts.
MOTHER'S VOICE (O.S.)
It's sad... when a mother has to
speak the words that condemn her own
son... but I couldn't allow them to
believe that I would commit murder.
(A pause)
They'll put him away now... as I
should have... years ago. He was
always... bad. And in the end, he
intended to tell them I killed those
girls... and that man. As if I could
do anything except just sit and
stare... like one of his stuffed
birds.
(A pause)
Well, they know I can't even move a
finger. And I won't. I'll just sit
here and be quiet. Just in case they
do... suspect me.
A fly buzzes close, and then continues buzzing and flying
about Norman's face.
MOTHER'S VOICE (V.O.)
They're probably watching me. Well,
let them. Let them see what kind of
a person I am.
(A pause, as the fly
lights on Norman's
hand)
I'm not going to swat that fly. I
hope they are watching. They'll see...
they'll see... and they'll know...
and they'll say... 'why, she wouldn't
even harm a fly...'
Norman continues to gaze ahead into nothing.
SCENE BEGINS TO DISSOLVE SLOWLY TO:
THE SWAMP
As END TITLES FADE IN, we see the swamp, the chain of a tow-
truck. The chain is attached to Mary's car. The car is coming
out of the swamp.
FADE OUT
THE END
AMERICAN PSYCHO by Mary Harron and Guinevere Turner
AMERICAN PSYCHO
by
Mary Harron and Guinevere Turner
Based on the novel by Bret Easton Ellis
Fourth Draft
November 1998
INT. PASTELS RESTAURANT- NIGHT
An insanely expensive restaurant on the Upper East Side.
The decor is a mixture of chi-chi and rustic, with swagged
silk curtains, handwritten menus and pale pink tablecloths
decorated with arrangements of moss, twigs and hideous
exotic flowers. The clientele is young, wealthy and
confident, dressed in the height of late-eighties style:
pouffy Lacroix dresses, slinky Ala�a, Armani power suits.
CLOSE-UP on a WAITER reading out the specials.
WAITER
With goat cheese profiteroles and I also have an arugula
Caesar salad. For entr�es tonight I have a swordfish
meatloaf with onion marmalade, a rare-roasted partridge
breast in raspberry coulis with a sorrel timbale...
Huge white porcelain plates descend on very pale pink linen
table cloths. Each of the entrees is a rectangle about four
inches square and look exactly alike.
CLOSE-UP on various diners as we hear fragments of
conversation. "Is that Charlie Sheen over there?" "Excuse
me? I ordered cactus pear sorbet."
WAITER
And grilled free-range rabbit with herbed French fries. Our
pasta tonight is a squid ravioli in a lemon grass broth...
CLOSE-UP on porcelain plates containing elaborate
perpendicular desserts descending on another table.
PATRICK BATEMAN, TIMOTHY PRICE, CRAIG MCDERMOTT and DAVID
VAN PATTEN are at a table set for four. They are all wearing
expensively cut suits and suspenders and have slicked-back
hair. Van Patten wears horn-rimmed glasses.
The camera moves in on Bateman as his narration begins:
BATEMAN (V.O.)
We're sitting in Pastels, this nouvelle Northern California
place on the Upper East Side.
The Waiter sets down plates containing tiny, elaborately
decorated starters. As he does so we hear Bateman's
description of each of the men at the table.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
You'll notice that my friends and I all look and behave in
a remarkably similar fashion, but there are subtle differences
between us. McDermott is the biggest asshole. Van
Patten is the yes man. Price is the most wired. I'm the
best looking. We all have light tans. Right now I'm in a
bad mood because this is not a good table, and Van Patten
keeps asking dumb, obvious questions about how to dress .
VAN PATTEN
What are the rules for a sweater vest?
McDERMOTT
What do you mean?
PRICE
Yes. Clarify.
McDERMOTT
Well, is it strictly informal-
BATEMAN
Or can it be worn with a suit?
McDERMOTT
(Smiling)
Exactly
BATEMAN
With discreet pinstripes you should wear a subdued blue or
charcoal gray vest. A plaid suit would cal I for a bolder
vest.
McDERMOTT
But avoid matching the vest's pattern with your socks or
tie. Wearing argyle socks with an argyle vest will look
too studied.
VAN PATTEN
You think so?
PRICE
You'll look like you consciously worked for the look.
VAN PATTEN
Good point. Excuse me, gentlemen.
Van Patten leaves the table. As he does so, a busboy
discreetly removes their largely untouched plates.
BATEMAN
Van Patten looks puffy. Has he stopped working out?
PRICE
It looks that way, doesn't it?
McDERMOTT
(Staring at retreating waiter)
Did he just take our plates away?
PRICE
He took them away because the portions are so small he
probably thought we were finished. God, I hate this place.
This is a chicks' restaurant. Why aren't we at Dorsia?
McDERMOTT
Because Bateman won't give the maitre d' head.
(He guffaws)
Bateman throws a swizzle stick at him.
McDermott scans the room, settling on a handsome young man
with slicked-back hair and horn-rimmed glasses.
McDERMOTT
Is that Reed Robinson over there?
PRICE
Are you freebasing or what? That's not Robinson.
McDERMOTT
Who is it then?
PRICE
That's Paul Owen.
BATEMAN
That's not Paul Owen. Paul Owen's on the other side of the
room. Over there.
He points to another handsome young man with slicked-back
hair and horn-rimmed glasses.
McDERMOTT
Who is he with?
PRICE
(Distracted by the waitress's
cleavage as she bends over to
uncork a bottle of wine � the
waitress glares at him)
Some weasel from Kicker Peabody.
Van Patten returns.
VAN PATTEN
They don't have a good bathroom to do coke in.
McDERMOTT
Are you sure that's Paul Owen over there?
PRICE
Yes. McDufus, I am.
McDERMOTT
He's handling the Fisher account.
PRICE
Lucky bastard.
McDERMOTT
Lucky Jew bastard.
BATEMAN
Oh Jesus, McDermott, what does that have to do with
anything?
McDERMOTT
Listen. I've seen the bastard sitting in his office on the
phone with CEOs, spinning a fucking menorah. The
bastard brought a Hanukkah bush into the office last December.
BATEMAN
You spin a dreidel, McDermott, not a menorah.
You spin a dreidel.
McDERMOTT
Oh my God. Bateman, do you want me to fry you up
some fucking potato pancakes? Some latkes?
BATEMAN
No. Just cool it with the anti-Semitic remarks.
McDERMOTT
Oh I forgot. Bateman's dating someone from the
ACLU.
Price leans over and pats Bateman on the back.
PRICE
The voice of reason. The boy next door. And speaking
of reasonable...
He shows McDermott the bill for the meal.
McDERMOTT
Only $470.
VAN PATTEN
(Without irony)
Not bad.
The others murmur agreement. Four platinum Amex cards slap
down on the table.
INT. LIMOUSINE - NIGHT
Bateman is pouring vintage champagne into flutes. Price is
lighting up a cigar.
McDERMOTT
Last week I picked up this Vassar chick-
VAN PATTEN
Oh God, I was there. I don't need to hear this
story again.
McDERMOTT
But I never told you what happened afterwards. So
okay, I pick up this Vassar chick at Tunnel-hot number, big
tits, great legs, this chick was a little hardbody-and so I
buy her a couple of champagne kirs and she's in the city on
spring break and she's practically blowing me in the
Chandelier Room and so I take her back to my place-
BATEMAN
Whoa, wait. May I ask where Pamela is during all
this?
McDERMOTT
Oh fuck you. I want a blowjob, Bate-man. I want a chick
who's gonna let me-
VAN PATTEN
(Putting his hands over his ears)
I don't want to hear this. He's going to say something
disgusting.
McDERMOTT
You prude. Listen, we're not gonna invest in a co-op
together or jet down to Saint Bart's. I just want some
chick whose face I can sit on for thirty, forty minutes.
Price throws a cigar at McDermott, who catches it.
McDERMOTT
Anyway, so we're back at my place and listen to
this. She's had enough champagne by now to get a fucking
rhino tipsy, and get this-
VAN PATTEN
She let you fuck her without a condom?
McDERMOTT
This is a Vassar girl. She's not from Queens. She
would only-are you ready?
(Dramatic pause)
She would only give me a handjob, and get this...she kept
her glove on.
The men sit in shocked, horrified silence.
ALL IN UNISON Never date a Vassar girl.
EXT. TUNNEL NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT
The limo pulls up to the sidewalk outside the Tunnel.
McDermott holds the door open for a passing HOMELESS MAN,
who looks confused.
McDERMOTT
I suppose he doesn't want the car. Price, ask
him if he takes American Express.
PRICE
(Offering card)
You take Amex, dude?
The man stumbles away. The club DOORMAN, seeing the limousine,
unhooks the
velvet rope and welcomes them inside.
INT. LADIES ROOM, TUNNEL - NIGHT
Brilliant white light, a bemused elderly female attendant in a
black-and-white maid's uniform trying to give out paper towels.
MUSIC thuds through an open doorway. Trashed-looking girls
stare into mirrors repairing their eye make-up or sit on the
counter chatting to friends. There are almost as many men as
women in the room. Couples stand in line, twitching as they
wait to do coke. As soon as one bathroom door opens, a couple
lurches out rubbing their noses while another couple rushes
past them and slams the door.
PRICE
There's this theory out now that if you can catch the
AIDS virus through having sex with someone who is infected,
then you can also catch anything-Alzheimer's, muscular
dystrophy, hemophilia, leukemia, diabetes, dyslexia, for
Christ's sake-you can get dyslexia from pussy-
BATEMAN
I'm not sure, guy, but I don't think dyslexia is a
virus.
PRICE
Oh, who knows? They don't know that. Prove it.
Price and Bateman finally get a stall and rush in. Price is
sweating.
PRICE
I'm shaking. You open it.
Bateman opens a tiny packet of coke.
PRICE
Jeez. That's not a helluva lot, is it?
BATEMAN
Maybe it's just the light.
PRICE
Is he fucking selling it by the milligram? (He dips
the corner of his Amex card in the packet and takes a snort)
Oh my God...
BATEMAN
What?
PRICE
It's a fucking milligram of Sweet'n Low!
Bateman dips his Amex in the envelope and snorts.
BATEMAN
It's definitely weak but I have a feeling if we do
enough of it we'll be okay.
PRICE
I want to get high off this; Bateman, not sprinkle it
on my fucking All-Bran.
The GUY IN STALL next door yells at them in an effeminate
voice:
GUY IN STALL
Could you keep it down, I'm trying to do drugs!
Price pounds his fist against the stall.
PRICE
(screaming)
SHUT UP!
BATEMAN
Calm down. Let's do it anyway
PRICE
I guess you're right...
(Raising his voice)
THAT IS, IF THE FAGGOT IN THE NEXT STALL THINKS IT'S OKAY!
GUY IN STALL
Fuck you!
PRICE
(Trying to climb up against the aluminum divider)
No, FUCK YOU!!
(He collapses, panting against the stall door)
Sorry, dude. Steroids...Okay, let's do it.
BATEMAN
That's the spirit.
They both dig their platinum Amex cards into the envelope
of white powder, shoveling it up their noses, then sticking
their fingers in to catch the residue and rubbing it into
their gums.
INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT
Bateman saunters toward the bar as "Pump Up the Volume"
plays in the background.
BATEMAN (to BARGIRL) Two Stoli on the rocks.
He hands her two drink tickets.
BARGIRL
It's after eleven. Those aren't good anymore. It's
a cash bar. That'll be twenty-five dollars.
Bateman pulls out an expensive-looking wallet and hands her
a $50.
She turns her back and searches the cash register for
change.
BATEMAN You are a fucking ugly bitch I want to stab to
death and then play around with your blood.
The music muffles his voice. She turns around. He is
smiling at her. She gives him his change impassively.
INT. BATEMAN'S APARTMENT- MORNING
Tableaux of Bateman's apartment in the early morning light.
A huge white living room with floor-to-ceiling windows
looking out over Manhattan, decorated in expensive, minimalist
high style: bleached oak floors, a huge white sofa, a large
Baselitz painting (hung upside down) and much expensive
electronic equipment. The room is impeccably neat, and oddly
impersonal - as if it had sprung straight from the pages of
a design magazine.
BATEMAN (V.0.)
My name is Patrick Bateman. I am
twenty-six years old. I live in the American Garden
Buildings on West Eighty-First Street, on the eleventh
floor Tom Cruise lives in the penthouse.
Bateman walks into his bathroom, urinates while trying to
see his reflection in a poster for Les Miserables above his
toilet.
BATEMAN
(V.0.) I believe in taking care of myself, in a
balanced diet, in a rigorous exercise routine. In the
morning, if my face is a little puffy, I'll put on an ice
pack while doing my stomach crunches. I can do a thousand
now.
Bateman ties a plastic ice pack around his face.
Bateman does his morning stretching exercises in the living
room wearing the ice pack.
CUT TO:
A mirror-lined bathroom. Bateman is luxuriating in the
shower steam, scrubbing his body, admiring his muscles.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
After I remove the icepack, I use a deep
pore-cleanser lotion. In the shower, I use a
water-activated gel cleanser, then a honey-almond body
scrub, and on the face an exfoliating gel scrub.
Bateman stands in front of a massive marble sink applying a
gel facial masque.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
Then I apply an herb mint facial masque which
I leave on for ten minutes while I prepare the rest of my
routine.
Bateman opens the door of a mirrored cabinet, which is
stocked with immaculate rows of skin care products. He
begins selecting bottles jars and brushes, laying them in
readiness on the marble counter.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
I always use an after-shave lotion with little
or no alcohol because alcohol dries your face out and makes
you look older. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye
balm, followed by a final moisturizing "protective" lotion...
Bateman stares into the mirror. The masque has dried,
giving his face a strange distorted look as if it has been
wrapped in plastic. He begins slowly peeling the gel masque
off his face.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some
kind of abstraction, hut there is no real me, only an
entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold
gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping you
and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably
comparable: I simply am not there.
INT. BATEMAN BEDROOM - MORNING
Another huge white room, equally minimal: a futon, rumpled
white sheets, a bedside lamp with a halogen bulb, and a large
expensive painting (Eric Fischl or David Salle) chosen by
Bateman's interior decorator.
Dressed in silk boxer shorts, Bateman stands in front of a
huge walk-in closet, filled with rows of expensive shirts,
shoes and designer suits, organized according to color and
tone.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
It is hard for me to make sense on any given
level. My self is fabricated, an aberration. My personality
is sketchy and unformed, my heartlessness goes deep and is
persistent.
Fully dressed in Armani, Bateman stands in front of a
full-length mirror in the middle of his vast bedroom,
adjusting his cuff-links.
BATEMAN (V.0.)
My conscience, my pity, my hopes disappeared
a long time ago, if they ever did exist.
He gives a last look at the mirror and likes what he sees.
He gives his reflection a smile.
INT. OFFICES OF PIERCE & PIERCE - DAY
As Bateman walks down the corridor, he passes another MAN who
looks just like him.
MAN
Morning, Hamilton. Nice tan.
Bateman walks past the desk of JEAN, his secretary, pulling
his Walkman from around his neck. Jean is attractive,
wholesome, earnest. She smiles shyly. She loves him.
JEAN
Late?
BATEMAN
Aerobics class. Sorry. Any messages?
JEAN
Ricky Hendricks has to cancel today. He didn't say what
he was canceling or why.
BATEMAN
I occasionally box with Ricky at the Harvard Club.
Anyone else?
JEAN
And...Spencer wants to meet you for a drink at Fluties Pier 17.
BATEMAN
When?
JEAN
After six.
BATEMAN
Negative. Cancel it.
Jean follows him into his office.
JEAN
Oh? And what should I say?
BATEMAN
Just...say...no.
JEAN
Just say no?
Jean stands at his desk, waiting for instructions.
BATEMAN
Okay, Jean. I need reservations for three at Camols
at twelve-thirty, and if not there, try Crayons. All
right?
JEAN
(Playfully)
Yes, sir.
She turns to leave.
BATEMAN
Oh wait. And I need reservations for two at Arcadia at eight
tonight.
Jean turns around.
JEAN
Oh, something. . romantic?
BATEMAN
No, silly. Forget it. I'll make them. Thanks.
JEAN
I'll do it.
BATEMAN
No. No. Be a doll and just get me a Perrier, okay?
JEAN
You look nice today.
Jean exits. Bateman straightens some magazines in his
office, lifts a painting off the wall and puts it back at a
slightly different angle. He fiddles with some pencils in a
beer stein. He puts on some MUSIC and flips through a
Sports Illustrated. He buzzes Jean. She comes in a moment
later with the Perrier and a file.
JEAN
Yes?
BATEMAN
Is that the Ransom file? Thanks. Don't wear that
outfit again.
JEAN
Ummm...what? I didn't hear you.
BATEMAN
I said "Do not wear that outfit again." Wear a
dress. A skirt or something.
Jean stands there, then looks down at herself.
JEAN
(Smiling bravely)
You don't like this, I take it?
BATEMAN
Come on, you're prettier than that.
JEAN
(Sarcastically)
Thanks, Patrick.
The phone RINGS and Jean turns to leave.
BATEMAN
I'm not here. And high heels. I like high heels.
As Jean leaves, Bateman clicks on the TV set in one corner
of the room and starts watching Jeopardy!
INT. TAXI - EVENING
EVELYN WILLIAMS, Patrick Bateman's
fianc�e, is making notes with a gold Cross pen and sipping
a bottle of mineral water. Evelyn is blonde, classically
beautiful, expensively educated, and utterly pleased with
herself. She usually addresses Patrick as if he were a
small child.
EVELYN
I'd want a zydeco band, Patrick. That's what I'd
want, a zydeco band. Or mariachi. Or reggae. Something
ethnic to shock Daddy Oh, I can't decide...And lots
of chocolate truffles. Godiva. And oysters on the halfshell.
CLOSE-UP on Bateman, who is wearing a Walkman and staring
out the window.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
I'm trying to listen to the new George
Michael tape but Evelyn-my supposed fianc�e-keeps buzzing
in my ear.
Evelyn continues to make notes.
EVELYN
Marzipan. Pink tents. Hundreds, thousands of roses.
Photographers. Annie Leibovitz. We'll get Annie Leibovitz.
And we'll hire someone to videotape. Patrick, we should do it.
BATEMAN
(Removing his Walkman)
Do...what.
EVELYN
Get married. Have a wedding.
BATEMAN
Evelyn?
EVELYN
Yes, darling?
BATEMAN
Is your Evian spiked?
EVELYN
We should do it.
BATEMAN
No-I can't take the time off work.
EVELYN
Your father practically owns the company. You can do
anything you like, silly.
BATEMAN
I don't want to talk about it.
EVELYN
Well, you hate that job anyway. Why don't you just
quit? You don't have to work.
BATEMAN
Because I...want...to...fit...in.
The taxi bumps to a halt.
INT. ESPACE RESTAURANT- NIGHT
A cavernous garage, harshly spot-lit, decorated in
self-conscious brutalist chic. Iron girders, walls of waxed
plaster featuring exposed rusted pipes, a huge Schnabel
smashed-plate painting on one wall. The tables and chairs are
made of extremely uncomfortable
bolted steel.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
I'm on the verge of tears by the time we arrive at Espace
since I'm positive we won't have a decent table, but we do,
and relief washes over me in an awesome wave.
Tm Price and two downtown types, STASH and VANDEN, are
already seated. Vanden is about twenty, pretty and sullen,
with green streaks in her black hair. Stash is pale, with
ragged black hair and bad skin.
They are all trying to read large stainless steel menus
that look like minimalist art.
PRICE
The menu's in braille.
He gets up to greet them, giving Evelyn a suspiciously long
kiss.
PRICE
I have to talk to you.
He drags her away, half giggling and protesting.
EVELYN
(Over her shoulder)
Pat, this is my cousin Vanden
and her boyfriend Stash. He's an artist.
BATEMAN
(After smiling at his own reflection in the mirror and
checking his hair)
Hi. Pat Bateman.
Vanden takes his hand reluctantly, says nothing.
BATEMAN
Let me guess-you live in the East Village?
Pause.
STASH
SoHo.
COURTNEY RAWLINSON and LUIS CARRUTHERS arrive at the table.
Courtney is blonde, classically beautiful and from
precisely the same social background as Evelyn, but she is
considerably more fragile and neurotic. Luis is
half-English, half-Argentinean, slightly overweight (a
rarity in this crowd), puppyish and eager to please. He
wears the same type of designer clothes as Price and
Bateman, but with foppish tendencies: velvet jackets,
bow-ties, boldly patterned vests.
They exchange air kisses. As soon as Luis turns his back,
Bateman sneaks a kiss on Courtney's neck.
COURTNEY
(Whispering)
Stop it!
Stash and Vanden watch them in silence.
LATER:
Price is whispering in Evelyn's ear. Everyone else is
quietly eating, except Bateman, who is drinking and watching
Evelyn and Price.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
I am fairly sure that Timothy and Evelyn
are having an affair. Timothy is the only interesting
person I know. Courtney is almost perfect looking. She s
usually operating on one or more psychiatric drugs. Tonight
I believe it's Xanax. More disturbing than her drug use,
though, is the fact that she's engaged to Luis Carruthers,
the biggest dufus in the business.
Courtney rouses herself from her drug haze.
COURTNEY
Tell me. Stash...do you think SoHo is
becoming to...commercial?
CARRUTHERS
Yes, I read that.
PRICE
Oh, who gives a rat's ass?
VANDEN
Hey. That affects us.
PRICE
(Wired on coke)
Oh ho ho. That affects us? What
about the massacres in Sri Lanka, honey? Doesn't that
affect us, too? I mean don't you know anything about Sri
Lanka? About how the Sikhs are killing like tons of
Israelis there? Doesn't that affect us?
BATEMAN
Oh come on. Price. There are a lot more important
problems than Sri Lanka to worry about. Sure our foreign
policy is important, but there are more pressing problems
at hand.
PRICE
Like what?
BATEMAN
Well, we have to end apartheid for one. And slow
down the nuclear arms race, stop terrorism and world
hunger. But we can't ignore our social needs. either We
have to stop people from abusing the welfare system. We
have to provide food and shelter for the homeless and
oppose racial discrimination and promote civil rights while
also promoting equal rights for women but change the
abortion laws to protect the right to life yet still
somehow maintain women's freedom of choice.
The table stares at Bateman uncomfortably.
BATEMAN
We also have to control the influx of illegal
immigrants. We have to encourage a return to traditional
moral values and curb graphic sex and violence on TV, in
movies, in pop music, everywhere. Most importantly we have
to promote general social concern and less materialism in
young people.
Price chokes on his drink. Everyone is silent and
mystified.
CARRUTHERS
Patrick, how thought-provoking.
INT. EVELYN'S BEDROOM - LATER THE SAME EVENING
Bateman and Evelyn are lying on her bed watching television.
BATEMAN
Why don t you just go for Price?
EVELYN
Oh God, Patrick. Why Price? Price?
BATEMAN
He's rich.
EVELYN
Everybody's rich.
BATEMAN
He's good-looking.
EVELYN
Everybody's good-looking, Patrick.
BATEMAN
He has a great body
EVELYN
Everybody has a great body now.
Bateman unbuttons his shirt and makes advances to get
Evelyn to have sex with him. She ignores him, watching the
Home Shopping Channel with the remote in her hand. Finally,
he straddles her, penis close to her face. She tries to
look around him at the TV, then takes notice.
EVELYN
What do you want to do with that, floss with it?
Bateman flops back down beside her and stares at the television.
EVELYN
Are you using minoxidil?
BATEMAN
No. I'm not. Why should I ?
EVELYN
Your hairline looks like it's receding.
BATEMAN
It's not.
EXT. STREET - LATER THAT NIGHT
It is 3 a.m. Bateman is standing at an ATM, listening to the
comforting sound of fresh bills thudding out of the machine.
Bateman turns around and watches a solitary young woman walk
past him. He collects his money, placing it carefully in his
wallet, and then walks toward her, whistling. He catches up
to her as she pauses at a red light.
BATEMAN
Hello.
The woman looks suspicious for a moment and then, seeing
his smile, smiles back.
INT. DRY CLEANERS - DAY
Bateman, dressed in an Armani suit
with an unlit cigar between his teeth is standing in a dry
cleaners, arguing with the Chinese woman behind the
counter.
BATEMAN
Listen, wait. You're not...shhh wait...
you're not giving me valid reasons.
The woman continues to speak to him in another language,
grabbing at the sleeve of the jacket.
BATEMAN
What are you trying to say to me?
Her husband has taken Bateman's horribly bloodstained
sheets out of the bag and is staring at them.
BATEMAN
Bleach-ee? Are you trying to say bleach-ee?
Bleach-ee. Oh my God.
She keeps pointing to the jacket and talking.
BATEMAN
(Talking over her)
Two things. One. You can't bleach a Soprani. Out of the question.
Two.
(Louder)
Two. I can only get these sheets in Santa Fe. These are very
expensive sheets and I really need them clean.
She keeps talking and Bateman leans into her.
BATEMAN
If you don't shut your fucking mouth I will kill
you, are you understanding me?
She talks faster.
BATEMAN
Now listen-I have a very important lunch meeting
(Checks Rolex)
at Hubert's in thirty minutes, and I need those
...no wait, twenty minutes. I have a lunch meeting at
Hubert's in twenty minutes with Ronald Harrison and I need
those sheets cleaned by this afternoon.
She keeps talking.
BATEMAN Listen. I cannot understand you.
Bateman starts laughing, slaps his hand down on the
counter.
BATEMAN
This is crazy. You're a fool. I can't cope with
this.
Bateman is on the verge of tears.
BATEMAN
Stupid bitchee! Understand? Oh Christ!
Someone enters the store behind him. It's VICTORIA,
late-twenties, attractive but a little overweight, wearing a
tailored business suit with white sneakers and sports socks.
VICTORIA
Patrick?
She takes off her sunglasses.
VICTORIA
Hi, Patrick. I thought that was you.
BATEMAN
Hello
(Mumbles un incomprehensible name)
Awkward pause.
BATEMAN
Well.
VICTORIA
Isn't it ridiculous? Coming all the way up here,
but you
know. They really are the best.
BATEMAN
Then why can't they get these stains out? I mean can you talk
to these people or something? I'm not getting anywhere.
Victoria moves toward the sheet that the old man is holding
up. She
touches it and the woman behind the counter begins talking
again.
VICTORIA
Oh my, I see. What are those? Oh my.
BATEMAN
Um, well...it s cranberry juice. Cranapple.
VICTORiA
(Skeptically) Really?
BATEMAN
Well, I mean, um, it s really...Bosco. You
know, like...
like a Dove Bar. It's a Dove Bar...Hershey's Syrup?
VICTORIA
(As if sharing a secret joke) Oh yeah. Oh I get it.
Fun with chocolate.
BATEMAN
Listen, if you could talk to them
(He yanks the sheet out of the man's hand)
I would really appreciate it. I'm really late. I have a
lunch appointment at Hubert's in fifteen minutes.
Bateman turns to leave.
VICTORIA
Hubert's? Oh really? It moved uptown, right?
BATEMAN
Yeah, well, oh boy, listen, I've got to go. Thank
you, uh...
Victoria?
VICTORIA
Maybe we could have lunch one day next week? You
know, I'm downtown near Wall Street quite often.
BATEMAN
Oh, I don't know, Victoria. I'm at work all the
time.
VICTORIA
Well, what about, oh, you know, maybe a Saturday?
BATEMAN
(Checking his watch)
Next Saturday?
VICTORIA
(Shrugging)
Yeah.
BATEMAN
Oh, can't, I'm afraid. Matin�e of Les Miserables.
Listen, I've really got to go. I'll-Oh...Christ...I'll call
you.
VICTORIA
Okay. Do.
Bateman glares at the woman behind the counter and rushes
out the door. Victoria stares after him as we hear the sound
of the bell on the closing door.
INT. BATEMAN'S APARTMENT - DAY
Bateman is sitting on the sofa watching a video, talking to
Courtney on a portable phone. He's holding a video box in one
hand, perusing the title: Inside Lydia's Ass. Offscreen we hear
the sounds of the porn movie as he talks.
BATEMAN
Listen, what are you doing tonight?
COURTNEY
What? Oh, I'm...busy.
BATEMAN
Listen, you're dating Luis, he's in Arizona. You're fucking me,
and we haven't made plans. What could you possibly be up to
tonight?
COURTNEY
Stop it. I'm...
BATEMAN
On a lot of lithium?
COURTNEY
Waiting for Luis to call me. He said he'd call
tonight. Oh don't be difficult, Patrick.
BATEMAN
You should come have dinner with me.
COURTNEY
But-when?
BATEMAN
Am I confused or were we talking about tonight?
COURTNEY
Ummm . . yeah. Luis is calling me tonight. I
need to be
home for that.
BATEMAN
Pumpkin?
COURTNEY
Yes?
BATEMAN
Pumpkin you're dating an asshole.
COURTNEY
Uh huh.
BATEMAN
Pumpkin you're dating the biggest dickweed in New
York.
COURTNEY
I know. Stop it.
BATEMAN
Pumpkin, you're dating a tumbling, tumbling
dickweed.
COURTNEY
Patrick don't call me pumpkin anymore, okay? I have to go.
BATEMAN
Courtney? Dinner?
COURTNEY
I can't.
BATEMAN
I'm thinking Dorsia.
COURTNEY
Dorsia's nice.
BATEMAN
Nice?
COURTNEY
You like it there, don't you?
BATEMAN
The question is do you like it, Courtney? And will
you blow off a fucking phone call from your sad excuse for a
boyfriend to eat there tonight.
COURTNEY
Okay. Yeah. What time?
BATEMAN
Eight?
COURTNEY
Pick me up?
BATEMAN
Sounds like I'll have to. Don't fall asleep, okay? Wear
something fabulous. Dorsia, remember?
Bateman hangs up, opens up the Zagat's guide and dials the
number for Dorsia with trembling fingers. It's busy and so
he puts it on speakerphone, constant redial. He waits with
his head in his hands, sweating with anxiety, until there
is finally an answer.
MAITRE D'
Dorsia. Please hold.
He is on hold for a long time, getting very tense.
MAITRE D'
Dorsia.
BATEMAN
(Both of his eyes are closed)
Umm...yes...I know it's a little late but is it possible to
reserve a table for two at eight or eight-thirty perhaps?
Long pause. The Maitre D' starts giggling quietly and then
more loudly until the laughter is almost hysterical and he
hangs up the phone.
INT. TAXI- NIGHT
Bateman and Courtney are in the back of a cab. Courtney is
heavily medicated.
COURTNEY
A facial at Elizabeth Arden, which was really
relaxing, then to the Pottery Bam where I bought this
silver muffin dish.
(She starts to pass out)
BATEMAN
Is that Donald Trump's car?
COURTNEY
(Thickly)
Oh God, Patrick. Shut up.
BATEMAN
You know, Courtney, you should take some more
lithium. Or have a Diet Coke. Some caffeine might get you
out of this slump.
COURTNEY
I just want to have a child. Just...two...
perfect...children...
(Her voice trails as she descends back into a drug haze)
The cab draws up outside a restaurant. The awning reads
"Barcadia."
INT. BARCADIA - NIGHT
An insanely expensive nouvelle Italian restaurant all
polished natural brick, spotless white tablecloths,
minimalist flower arrangements, discreet lighting.
A waiter has come to take their drink orders.
BATEMAN
J&B. Straight.
COURTNEY
Champagne on the rocks. Oh-could I have that with
a twist? She starts to sink back in her chair and Bateman
leans over and pulls her back up.
COURTNEY
Are we here?
BATEMAN
Yes.
COURTNEY
This is Dorsia?
BATEMAN
(Examining a menu that says "Barcadia" in large script)
Yes, dear.
Courtney almost falls asleep while looking at her menu, and
starts to slide off of her chair. Bateman grabs her by both
shoulders and props her up.
BATEMAN
Courtney, you're going to have the peanut butter
soup with smoked duck and mashed squash. New York magazine
called it a 'playful but mysterious little dish." You'll
love it. And then...the red snapper with violets and
pine nuts. I think that'll follow nicely.
COURTNEY
Mmmm...thanks, Patrick.
She falls asleep at the table.
INT. COURTNEY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Bateman and Courtney are in Courtney's bed. Bateman is on
top of her, reaching for a condom in the ashtray. He tears
it open with his teeth, puts it on.
COURTNEY
(Dazed on lithium)
I want you to fuck me.
Bateman gets on top of her, starts to fuck her.
COURTNEY
Luis is a despicable twit.
BATEMAN
Yes, Luis is a despicable twit. I hate him.
He keeps fucking her.
COURTNEY
No, you idiot. I said "Is it a receptacle tip?"
Not, is Luis a despicable twit. Is it a receptacle tip?
Get off me.
BATEMAN
Is it a what?
COURTNEY
Pull out.
BATEMAN
I'm ignoring you.
COURTNEY
(screaming)
Pull out, goddamnit!
BATEMAN
(Slowing down but not stopping)
What do you want, Courtney?
She pushes him away from her.
BATEMAN
It's a plain end. I think.
COURTNEY
Turn the light on.
She tries to sit up.
BATEMAN
Oh Jesus. I'm going home.
COURTNEY
Patrick. Turn on the Light.
He turns on the light.
BATEMAN
It's a plain end, see? So?
COURTNEY
Take it off.
BATEMAN
Why?
COURTNEY
Because you have to leave half an inch at the tip �
(She covers herself with her comforter)
to catch the force of the ejaculate!
BATEMAN
I'm getting out of here. Where's your lithium?
Courtney throws a pillow over her head and starts crying.
COURTNEY
(Screaming)
Do you think you're turning me on by having unsafe sex?
Bateman pulls the pillow off her and slaps her face.
BATEMAN
Oh Christ, this really isn't worth it. And see,
Courtney, it's there for what? Huh? Tell us.
(He slaps her again lightly)
Why is it pulled down half an inch?
So it can catch the force of the ejaculate!
COURTNEY
(Choking crying)
Well, it's not a turn-on for me.
I have a promotion coming to me. I don't want to get AIDS.
Bateman grabs her head and makes her look at the condom.
BATEMAN
See? Happy? You dumb bitch? Are you happy, you dumb bitch?
COURTNEY
Oh God, just get it over with.
He fucks her quickly until he has a mediocre orgasm and
falls down next to her. They lie side by side with their
bodies not touching, eyes open, staring at the
ceiling.
INT. CONFERENCE ROOM, PIERCE & PIERCE - DAY
Bateman and Luis Carruthers are seated at a long table in
the conference room at Pierce & Pierce, which looks out onto
a spectacular view of Manhattan.
CARRUTHERS
Patrick, thanks so much for looking after Courtney.
Dorsia, how impressive! How on earth did you get a
reservation there?
BATEMAN
Lucky, I guess.
CARRUTHERS
That's a wonderful jacket. Let me guess,
Valentino Couture?
BATEMAN
Uh huh.
CARRUTHERS
(Reaching out to touch it)
It looks so soft.
BATEMAN
(Catching Luis hand)
Your compliment was sufficient Luis.
Carruthers is distracted by a question from the colleague
on his left.Paul Owen enters, carrying the Wall St. Journal
under his arm. He is handsome, supremely confident and
self-satisfied; he sees himself as a leader among men.
OWEN
(To Bateman)
Hello, Halberstam. Nice tie. How the hell are you?
BATEMAN
I've been great. And you?
Their conversation fades down as we hear Bateman's
thoughts.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
Owen has mistaken me for this dickhead Marcus Halberstam.
It seems logical because Marcus also works at P&P and in
fact does the same exact thing I do and he also has a
penchant for Valentino suits and Oliver Peoples glasses.
Marcus and I even go to the same barber, although I have
a slightly better haircut.
During this voiceover the CAMERA WANDERS over to MARCUS
HALBERSTAM, who is conferring with a colleague in the
opposite corner of the room. He bears a
superficial resemblance to Bateman.
OWEN
How's the Ransom account going, Marcus?
BATEMAN
(Nervous)
It's...it's...all right.
OWEN
Really? That's interesting.
(He stares at Bateman, smiling)
Not great?
BATEMAN
Oh well, you know.
OWEN
And how's Cecilia? She's a great girl.
BATEMAN
Oh yes. I'm very lucky.
McDermott and Price enter.
McDERMOTT
Hey. Owen! Congratulations on the Fisher account.
OWEN
Thank you, Baxter.
PRICE
Listen, Paul. Squash?
OWEN
Call me.
(Hands him a business card)
PRICE
How about Friday?
OWEN
No can do. Got a res at eight-thirty at Dorsia. Great sea
urchin ceviche. There is a stunned silence as he walks away
and sits in a corner of the room, ostentatiously studying papers.
CLOSE-UP on Bateman's face, cold with hatred.
PRICE
(Whispering)
Jesus. Dorsia? On a Friday night? How'd he swing that?
McDERMOTT (Whispering)
I think he's lying.
Bateman takes out his wallet and pulls out a card.
PRICE
(Suddenly enthused)
What's that, a gram?
BATEMAN
New card. What do you think?
McDermott lifts it up and examines the lettering carefully.
McDERMOTT
Whoa. Very nice. Take a look.
He hands it to Van Patten.
BATEMAN
Picked them up from the printers yesterday
VAN PATTEN
Good coloring.
BATEMAN
That's bone. And the lettering is something called
Silian Rail.
McDERMOTT
(Envious)
Silian Rail?
VAN PATTEN
It is very cool, Bateman. But that's nothing.
He pulls a card out of his wallet and slaps it on the
table.
VAN PATTEN
Look at this.
They all lean forward to inspect it.
PRICE
That's really nice.
Bateman clenches his fists beneath the table, trying to
control his anxiety.
VAN PATTEN
Eggshell with Romalian type.
(Turning to Bateman)
What do you think?
BATEMAN
(Barely able to breath, his voice a croak)
Nice.
PRICE
(Holding the card up to the light)
Jesus. This is really super. How'd a nitwit like you get so
tasteful?
Bateman stares at his own card and then enviously at
McDermott's.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
I can't believe that Price prefers McDermott's card to mine.
PRICE
But wait. You ain't seen nothin' yet.
He holds up his own card.
PRICE
Raised lettering, pale nimbus white...
BATEMAN
(Choking with anxiety)
Impressive. Very nice. Let's see Paul Owen's card.
Price pulls a card from an inside coat pocket and holds it
up for their inspection: "PAUL OWEN, PIERCE & PIERCE,
MERGERS AND ACQUISITIONS." Bateman swallows, speechless.
The sound in the room dies down and all we hear is a faint
heartbeat as Bateman stares at the magnificent card.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
Look at that subtle off-white coloring. The tasteful thickness
of it. Oh my God, it even has a watermark...
His hand shaking, Bateman lifts up the card and stares at it
until it fills the screen.
He lets it fall. The SOUND RETURNS TO NORMAL.
CARRUTHERS Is something wrong? Patrick...you're sweating.
EXT. STREET- EVENING
The financial district. The streets are eerily deserted.
Bateman stands at an ATM, enjoying the reassuring sound of
$500 in fresh bills thudding from the machine. As he turns
to leave, he notices someone across the street.
A HOMELESS MAN is lying in a doorway on top of an open
grate, surrounded by bags of garbage and a shopping cart. A
cardboard sign is attached to the front of the cart: I AM
HOMELESS AND HUNGRY PLEASE HELP ME. A small, thin dog lies
next to him.
He is black, dressed in a stained, torn, lime-green
polyester pants suit with jeans worn over the pants.
BATEMAN
(Offering his hand) Hello. Pat Bateman.
The Homeless Man stares at Bateman, struggling to sit up.
BATEMAN
You want some money?. Some...food?
The Homeless Man nods and starts to cry. Bateman reaches
into his pocket and pulls out a $I 0 bill, then changes his
mind and holds out a $5 instead.
BATEMAN
Is this what you need?
The Homeless Man nods, looks away, wipes his nose.
HOMELESS MAN
I'm so hungry.
BATEMAN
It's cold out, too, isn't it?
HOMELESS MAN
I'm so hungry.
BATEMAN
(Holding the bill just out of the man's reach)
Why don't you get a job? If you're so hungry, why don't you
get a job?
HOMELESS MAN
(Shivering and sobbing)
I lost my job...
BATEMAN
Why? Were you drinking? Is that why you lost it?
Insider trading? Just joking. No, really-were you drinking on
the job?
HOMELESS MAN I was fired. I was laid off.
BATEMAN
Gee, uh, that's too bad.
HOMELESS MAN
I'm so hungry.
The dog starts to whimper.
BATEMAN
Why don't you get another one? Why don't , you get another job?
HOMELESS MAN
I'm not...
BATEMAN
You're not what? Qualified for anything else?
HOMELESS MAN
I'm hungry
BATEMAN
I know that, I know that. Jeez, you're like a broken record.
I'm trying to help you.
HOMELESS MAN
I'm hungry.
BATEMAN
Listen, do you think it's fair to take money from people who
do have jobs? From people who do work?
HOMELESS MAN
What am I gonna do?
BATEMAN
Listen, what's your name?
HOMELESS MAN
Al.
BATEMAN
Speak up. Come on.
HOMELESS MAN
Al.
BATEMAN
Get a goddamn job, Al. You've got a negative attitude.
That's what's stopping you. You've got to get your act together.
I'll help you.
HOMELESS MAN
You re so kind, mister. You're kind. You're a kind
man. I can tell.
BATEMAN
(Petting the dog)
Shhhh...it's okay.
HOMELESS MAN
(Grabbing Bateman's wrist)
Please...I don know what to do. I'm so cold.
BATEMAN
(Stroking his face, whispering)
Do ,you know how bad you smell? The stench, my God.
HOMELESS MAN
I can't...I can't find a shelter
BATEMAN
You reek. You reek of...shit. Do you know that?
(Shouting)
Goddammit, Al-look at me and stop crying like some kind of
faggot. Al...I'm sorry.
Bateman carefully puts the money back in his wallet.
BATEMAN
It's just that...I don't know I don't have anything in common
with you.
He opens his briefcase and pulls out a long thin knife with
a serrated edge. He pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to
protect it.
BATEMAN
Do you know what a fucking loser ,you are?
HOMELESS MAN'S POV as Bateman lunges at him with the knife.
EXTREME WIDE SHOT of the street. Bateman's shadowed figure
is hunched over the Homeless Man, stabbing him in the stomach.
The dog barks wildly and Bateman stomps on it until it is
silent.
LOW ANGLE shot of Bateman as he throws a quarter on the ground.
BATEMAN
There's a quarter. Go buy some gum.
Bateman walks calmly into the empty caverns of Wall Street.
Cars drift past, their headlights momentarily illuminating the
body left twitching on the ground.
INT. BEAUTY SALON - DAY
CLOSE-UP on Bateman's face and torso. His eyes are closed as a
woman's hands rub cream into his face.
FACIALIST
What beautiful skin you have, Mr Bateman. So
fine, so smooth...
His eyes open to look up at the facialist and then he
closes them again.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
I have all the characteristics of a human being- flesh, blood,
skin, hair-but not a single clear, identifiable emotion except
for greed ,und disgust. Something horrible is happening inside
me and I don't know why.
CUT TO:
Bateman sitting in a chair, looking down at the
MANICURIST who is giving him a pedicure. She is cutting his
nails with tiny sharp scissors. He stares at them longingly.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
My nightly bloodlust has overflowed into my days. I feel lethal,
on the verge of frenzy.
CUT TO:
Bateman lying irradiated by ultraviolet light on a tanning
bed, wearing goggles.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.
INT. TEXARKANA RESTAURANT - NIGHT
An insanely expensive nouvelle Tex-Mex restaurant, with an
ironic Southwestern decor: Santa Fe colors, Navajo blankets,
naive cowboy art, rawhide banquettes.
Bateman bursts in the door, late, and approaches the MAITRE D'.
BATEMAN
Marcus Halberstam. For two at eight?
MAITRE D'
Your friend has already been seated. Follow me, Mr. Halberstam.
Paul Owen is seated at a table underneath an enormous pair of
ram's horns. He is arguing with the WAITER.
OWEN
No, I want to know. I came here for the cilantro
crawfish gumbo, which is after all the only excuse one
could have for being in this restaurant, which is by the
way, almost completely empty. Am I to believe that all ten
people in this restaurant have eaten your entire supply of
cilantro crawfish gumbo?
WAITER
I'm very sorry sir. There was a fire in the kitchen
earlier today, and-
BATEMAN
J&B, straight. And a Dixie beer.
WAITER
Would you like to hear-
OWEN
Double Absolut martini.
WAITER
Yes, sir. Would you like to hear the specials?
BATEMAN
Not if you want to keep your spleen.
The Waiter leaves.
OWEN
This is a real beehive of, uh, activity, Halberstam.
This place is hot, very hot.
BATEMAN
Listen, the mud soup and the charcoal arugula are outrageous
here.
OWEN
Yeah, well, you're late.
BATEMAN
Hey, I'm a child of divorce. Give me a break
(Studying the menu; he's in a surprisingly good mood)
Hmmm, I see they've omitted the pork loin with lime jello.
OWEN
We should've gone to Dorsia. I could've gotten us a table.
BATEMAN
Nobody goes there anymore.
There is a long disgruntled silence.
BATEMAN
Is that Ivana Trump over there? (Laughs) Jeez
Patrick I mean Marcus, what are you thinking? Why would Ivana
be at Texarkana?
Another pause.
BATEMAN
So, wasn't Rothschild originally handling the
Fisher account? How did you get it?
OWEN
I could tell you that, Halberstam, but then I'd have
to kill you.
He guffaws. Bateman laughs politely.
LATER:
Paul Owen is very drunk. BATEMAN cold sober.
BATEMAN
I like to dissect girls. Did you know I'm utterly insane?
Owen continues laughing and motions to the waiter for another
drink.
OWEN
Great tan, Marcus. Really impressive. Where do you tan?
BATEMAN Salon.
OWEN
I've got a tanning bed at home. You should look into it.
Bateman nods, agitated.
OWEN
And Cecelia, how is she? Where is she tonight?
BATEMAN
Cecelia is, well...you know (Cecelia. I think
she's having dinner with...Evelyn Williams.
OWEN
Evelyn. Great ass. Goes out with that loser Patrick
Bateman. What a dork.
BATEMAN
Another Martini, Paul?
Owen nods drunkenly.
LATER:
The end of the meal. Owen is squeezing a lime onto the
table, missing his beer, incredibly drunk. The check is laid
down.
BATEMAN
(Talking to Owen like a child)
Paul, give me your Amex card. Good boy.
Bateman slaps the card down, looks at the check.
BATEMAN
Two-hundred-and-fifty. Very reasonable. Let's leave
a big tip, shall we? My place hr a nightcap?
OWEN
No, man. I'm gonna bail.
BATEMAN
Come on, you dumb son of a bitch.
(Helping him into his jacket)
I've got a preview of the Barneys catalogue and a
bottle of Absolut waiting for us.
INT. BATEMAN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
The living room floor has been meticulously covered with
newspaper.
Owen is slumped drunkenly in a white Eames chair, a glass
in his hand. Bateman is looking through his CDs.
BATEMAN
You like Huey Lewis and the News?
OWEN
They're okay.
BATEMAN
Their early work was a little too New Wave for my
taste. But then Sports came out in 1983, I think they really
came into their own, commercially and artistically.
Bateman walks to his bathroom, taking a large ax out of the
shower. He takes two Valium.
BATEMAN
(Said partly from the bathroom)
The whole album has a clear, crisp sound and a new sheen of
consummate professionalism that gives the songs a big boost.
Bateman comes back out and leans the ax against the wall.
He walks to the foyer and puts on a raincoat, watching Owen
from behind ail the time.
BATEMAN
He's been compared to ELvis Costello but I think
Huey has a more bitter, cynical sense of humor.
Owen is absent-mindedly leafing through the Barneys
catalogue.
OWEN
Hey, Halberstam?
BATEMAN
Yes, Owen?
OWEN
Why are there copies of the Style section all over
the place? Do you have a dog? A chow or something?
BATEMAN
No, Owen.
OWEN
(Confused)
Is that a raincoat?
BATEMAN
Yes, it is.
Bateman moves to the CD player. He takes a CD out of its
case and slides it in the machine.
BATEMAN
In 1987 Huey released this, Fore!, their most
accomplished album. I think I heir undisputed masterpiece is
"HiP To Be Square," a song so catchy that most people probably
don't listen to the lyrics. But they should because it's not
just about the pleasures of conformity and the importance of
trends. It's al~ a personal statement about the band itself.
Bateman puts on "Hip To Be Square."
BATEMAN crosses the room and picks up the ax.
We follow BATEMAN from behind as he walks up to Owen, the
ax raised over his head.
BATEMAN
Hey, Paul?
As Owen turns around, FROM OWEN'S POV we see Bateman swing
the ax toward his face.
Blood sprays onto the white raincoat.
FROM BEHIND OWEN, we see BATEMAN as he yanks the ax out.
Owen drops to the floor. His body falls out of the frame.
We stay on his legs twitching mechanically.
Blood pulses onto the newspaper-covered floor.
BATEMAN
(Raising the ax and screaming)
Try getting a reservation at Dorsia now, you fucking
stupid bastard!
LOW ANGLE ON BATEMAN as he beats Owen with the back of the
ax.
OFFSCREEN, the sound of the ax hitting Owen.
BATEMAN
(Panting)
Fucking bastard...
Bateman takes his raincoat off, still panting. He folds the
coat carefully in half, bloody side in, and drapes it neatly
over the back of a chair.
He sits back on the white sofa and surveys the scene. He
checks his Rolex and lights a cigar.
OFFSCREEN, Paul Owen's last faint sighs are heard.
INT. LOBBY - NIGHT
BATEMAN drags a large, blood-soaked sleeping bag through the lobby,
past the bored doorman, who looks up from the Post for a moment.
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
BATEMAN is trying to hail a cab. Owen's body is at his
feet. Luis Carruthers and a Japanese girl walk up to him.
CARRUTHERS
Patrick? Is that you?
BATEMAN
No, Luis. It's not me. You're mistaken.
CARRUTHERS
This is Gwendolyn Ichiban. This is my very good
friend Patrick Bateman. Where are you going? We're going to
Nell's. Gwendolyn's father's buying it.
(Looking down at the body)
Where did you get your overnight bag?
BATEMAN
Commes des Garcon.
A cab stops. BATEMAN opens the door and manages to get
Owen's body into the backseat.
Bateman gets into the cab.
CARRUTHERS
Call me please, Patrick.
BATEMAN
Jesus lives, Luis.
INT. BATEMAN'S HELL'S KITCHEN APARTMENT - NIGHT
A bare room, lit by one light bulb. The walls are blank
except for a Les Miserables poster. There is one ratty chair.
Bateman pours lime over Paul Owen's body, which is lying in
a bathtub. He plays Huey Lewis, smokes a cigar, watches the
body dissolve.
INT. PAUL OWEN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
Bateman is letting himself into the apartment. It is very
similar to Bateman's, but even more minimalist. The walls
are white-pigmented concrete with a large minimalist painting
on the wall. One wall is covered in a trendy, large-scale
scientific drawing above a long, black leather couch.
BATEMAN
Where to send the bastard? Dallas? Pans?
He throws some clothes into a suitcase, randomly grabbing
toiletries and shoving them in.
BATEMAN
Singapore? London. I'll send the asshole to London.
He puts some music on to help muffle his voice, then leans
over the answering machine.
He does a passable imitation of Owen's speech.
BATEMAN
Hi, this is Paul. I've been called away to London
for a few days. Meredith, I'll call you when I get back.
Hasta la vista, baby.
INT. BATEMAN'S OFFICE - MORNING
Bateman is sitting at his desk, with the latest copy of
Sports Illustrated in front of him and his Walkman playing
Kenny G. We hear the MUSIC until Jean enters and he takes
the Walkman off.
BATEMAN
(Faintly irritable)
What is it?
JEAN
Patrick?
BATEMAN
(Condescendingly)
Ye-es, Je-an?
JEAN
Patrick, a Mr. Donald KIMBALL is here to see you.
BATEMAN
Who?
JEAN
Detective Donald KIMBALL?
Silence. Bateman stares out the window, then down at the
drawing of a headless woman he's been doodling on the back
cover of Sports Illustrated.
BATEMAN
Tell him I'm at lunch.
JEAN
(whispering)
Patrick, I think he knows you're here.
It's only ten-thirty.
Silence.
BATEMAN
Send him in, I guess. As she exits, he picks up the cordless
phone and pretends to talk to someone at the other end.
BATEMAN
Now, John, you've got to wear clothes in proportion
to your physique. There are definite do's and don'ts, good
buddy, of wearing a bold-striped shirt. A hold-striped shirt
calls for solid-colored or discreetly patterned suits and ties...
The door to the office opens and he waves in DETECTIVE DONALD
KIMBALL. KIMBALL is surprisingly young - about Bateman's age -
and good-looking, dressed in a crumpled linen Armani suit of
the type Bateman and his friends might wear.
Kimball sits down and crosses his legs with a
self-assurance that makes Bateman so nervous he forgets to
carry on with his fake conversation. Kimball looks up at
him curiously, noticing the silence.
BATEMAN
(Realizing that Kimball is staring at him)
Right. And yes...always tip the stylist fifteen percent.
Bateman shrugs at the detective, rolling his eyes in
exasperation.
KIMBALL nods understandingly.
BATEMAN
Listen, John, I've got to go. T Boone Pickens just
walked in...
(He laughs inanely)
Just joking...
(Pause)
No don't tip the owner of the salon. Okay, John,
right, got it.
(He hangs up the phone and pushes the antenna in)
Sorry about that.
KIMBALL
No, I'm sorry. I should've made an appointment.
(Gesturing toward the phone)
Was that anything important?
BATEMAN
Oh that? Just mulling over business problems.
Examining opportunities...Exchanging rumors...
Spreading gossip.
They laugh politely.
KIMBALL
(Holding out his hand)
Hi. I'm Donald KIMBALL
BATEMAN
(Shaking firmly)
Hi. Pat Bateman. Nice to meet you.
KIMBALL
I'm sorry to barge in on you like this. but I was supposed
to talk to Luis Carruthers and he wasn't in and...well,
you're here, so...I know how busy you guys can get.
KIMBALL stares at the three open copies of Sports
Illustrated and the Sony Walkman lying on Bateman's desk.
Bateman sees the look and sweeps the magazines
into the top drawer along with the Walkman, which is
still running.
BATEMAN
(Forcing himself to sound friendly and relaxed)
So, what's the topic of discussion?
KIMBALL
I've been hired by Meredith Powell to investigate
the disappearance of Paul Owen.
BATEMAN
You're not with the FBI or anything, are you?
KIMBALL
Nothing like that. I'm just a private investigator.
BATEMAN
Ah, I see...Yes. Paul's disappearance...Yes.
KIMBALL
So it's nothing that official. I just have some
basic questions. About Paul Owen. About yourself-
BATEMAN
Coffee?
KIMBALL
No. I'm okay.
BATEMAN
Perrier? San Pellegrino?
KIMBALL
No, I'm okay.
KIMBALL takes out a small black notepad and the same gold
Cross pen that Bateman and his friends all use. Bateman buzzes
Jean.
JEAN (O.S.)
Patrick?
BATEMAN
Can you bring Mr...
KIMBALL
KIMBALL.
BATEMAN
Mr. Kimball a bottle of San Pelle-
KIMBALL
Oh no, I'm okay.
BATEMAN
It's no problem
Bateman watches intently as KIMBALL writes something down
in his notebook, then crosses something out. Jean enters
and places the bottle of San Pellegrino and a Steuben etched
glass on the table, shooting a concerned glance at Bateman.
He glares at her. KIMBALL smiles and nods at Jean as she leaves.
BATEMAN
Well, what's the topic of discussion?
KIMBALL
The disappearance of Paul Owen.
BATEMAN
Oh right. Well, I haven't heard anything about the
disappearance or anything...
(Trying to laugh)
Not on "Page Six" at least.
KIMBALL
I think his family wants this kept quiet.
BATEMAN
Understandable.
(Staring at the untouched bottle of San Pellegrino)
Lime?
KIMBALL
No, really. I'm okay.
BATEMAN
You sure? I can always get you a lime.
A pause.
KIMBALL
Just some preliminary questions that I need for my own
files, okay?
BATEMAN
Shoot.
KIMBALL
How old are you?
BATEMAN
Twenty-six. I'll be twenty-seven in October.
KIMBALL
(Scribbling in his notebook)
Where did you go to school?
BATEMAN
Harvard. The Harvard Business School.
KIMBALL
Your address?
BATEMAN
Fifty-five West Eighty-First Street. The American
Gardens Building.
KIMBALL
(Looking up, impressed)
Nice. Very nice.
BATEMAN
(Flattered)
Thanks.
A pause as KIMBALL studies his notebook. Bateman closes his
eyes, as if in pain.
KIMBALL
Pardon me, but are you okay?
BATEMAN
Who do you ask?
KIMBALL
You seem...nervous.
Bateman reaches into his desk drawer and brings out a
bottle of aspirin.
BATEMAN
Nuprin?
KIMBALL Uh...no, thanks.
Kimball takes out a pack of Marlboro's and lays it on the
desk.
BATEMAN
Bad habit.
KIMBALL
I know. I'm sorry.
A pause, as Bateman stares at the cigarettes.
KIMBALL
Would you rather I not smoke?
BATEMAN
No, I guess it's okay.
KIMBALL
You sure?
BATEMAN
No problem.
(Buzzing Jean)
JEAN (O.S.)
Yes, Patrick?
BATEMAN
Bring us an ashtray for Mr. KIMBALL, please.
She whisks in with a crystal ashtray as they sit in silence.
KIMBALL
What can you tell me about Paul Owen?
BATEMAN
Well...
He coughs, shakes two Nuprin into his hand and swallows
them dry.
KIMBALL
How well did you know him?
BATEMAN
I'm...at a loss. He was part of that whole...Yale thing,
you know.
KIMBALL
Yale thing?
A pause.
BATEMAN
Yeah...Yale thing.
KIMBALL
What do you mean...Yale thing?
A pause.
BATEMAN
Well, I think for one that he was probably a closet
homosexual. Who did a lot of cocaine...that Yale thing.
A silence during which the sound of the air conditioner
becomes deafening.
KIMBALL
So...there's nothing you can tell me about Paul
Owen?
BATEMAN
He led what I suppose was an orderly life. He...
ate a balanced diet.
KIMBALL
What kind of man was he? Besides...
(He hesitates tries to smile)
the information you've just given.
BATEMAN
I hope I'm not being cross-examined here.
KIMBALL
Do you feel that way?
BATEMAN
No. Not really.
KIMBALL
(As he writes without looking up)
Where did Paul hang out?
BATEMAN
Hang...out?
KIMBALL
Yeah. You know...hang out.
BATEMAN
Let me think. The Newport. Harry's. Fluties. Endochine.
Nell's. Comell Club. The New York Yacht Club. The regular
places.
KIMBALL
He had a yacht?
BATEMAN
No, he just hung out there.
KIMBALL
And where did he go to school?
A slight pause.
BATEMAN
Don't you know this?
KIMBALL
I just wanted to know if you know.
BATEMAN
Before Yale? If I remember correctly, Saint Paul's...
Listen, I just...I just want to help.
KIMBALL
I understand.
He makes another note.
KIMBALL
Anything else you can tell me about Owen?
BATEMAN
We were both seven in 1969.
KIMBALL
(Smiles)
So was I.
BATEMAN
Do you have any witnesses or fingerprints?
KIMBALL
Well, there's a message on his answering machine saying he
went to London.
BATEMAN
Well, maybe he did, huh?
KIMBALL
His girlfriend doesn't think so.
BATEMAN
But...has anyone seen him in London?
KIMBALL
Actually, yes.
BATEMAN
Hmmm.
KIMBALL
Well, I've had a hard time getting an actual verification.
A Stephen Hughes says he saw him at a restaurant there, but
I checked it out and what happened is, he mistook a Hubert
Ainsworth for Paul, so...
BATEMAN
Oh.
KIMBALL
Was he involved at all , do you think, in occultism or Satan
worship?
BATEMAN
What?
KIMBALL
I know it sounds like a lame question, but in New Jersey I
know this sounds like a lame question, but last month-I don't
know if you've heard about this, but a young stockbroker was
recently arrested and charged with murdering a young Chicano
girl and performing voodoo rituals with various body parts-
BATEMAN
Yikes! No. Paul wasn't into that. He followed a balanced
diet and-
KIMBALL
Yeah, I know, and was into that whole Yale thing.
A pause - the longest so far.
BATEMAN
Have you consulted a psychic?
KIMBALL
No.
BATEMAN
Had his apartment been burglarized?
KIMBALL
No, it actually hadn't. Toiletries were missing. A
suit was gone. So was some luggage. That's it.
BATEMAN
I mean no one's dealing with the homicide squad yet
or anything, right?
KIMBALL
No, not yet. As I said, we're not sure. But...
basically no one has seen or heard anything.
BATEMAN
That's so typical, isn't it?
KIMBALL
It's just strange.
(He stares out the window, lost in thought)
One day someone's walking around, going to work, alive,
and then...
BATEMAN
Nothing.
KIMBALL
People just...disappear.
BATEMAN
The earth just opens up and swallows people.
(He checks his Rolex)
KIMBALL
Eerie. Really eerie.
Silence.
BATEMAN
(Standing up)
You'll have to excuse me. I have a lunch meeting
with Cliff Huxtable at Four Seasons in twenty minutes.
KIMBALL
Isn't the Four Seasons a little far uptown? I
mean aren't you going to be late?
BATEMAN
Uh, no. There's one...down here.
KIMBALL
Oh really? I didn't know that.
Bateman leads him to the door.
BATEMAN
Yes. It's very good.
KIMBALL turns to face him.
KIMBALL
Listen, if anything occurs to you, any information
at all...
BATEMAN
Absolutely, I'm 100% with you.
KIMBALL
Great, and thanks for your, uh, time, Mr. Bateman.
Bateman closes the door firmly on KIMBALL. He closes his
eyes and leans against the door, sweating.
INT. BATEMAN'S APARTMENT - AFTERNOON
A perfectly lit kitchen still-life - a bottle of Evian,
a white porcelain plate on which sits a sliced kiwi, some perfect
green grapes, a few berries.
OFFSCREEN, the SOUND OF SCREAMS AND A CHAINSAW can be heard
from the living room.
The living room: Bateman is maniacally doing abdominal
crunches as the television plays a video of Texas Chainsaw
Massacre. There is a pile of horror videos on his coffee table,
next to a copy of GQ.
LATER:
Bateman is sitting in his armchair, phone book in hand,
jerking off. He is squealing into the phone and breathing.
BATEMAN
You like that, slut?
The person on the other end clearly hangs up.
CLOSE-UP on his fingers dialing the phone.
BATEMAN
You want to know what I'm wearing? Sixty-dollar
boxer shorts by Ralph Lauren, a hundred-and-fifty-dollar white
cotton T-shirt by
Commes des Garcons.
(He snorts like a pig)
My Rolex cost-
Another hang-up. He dials again.
BATEMAN
(Whipering)
I'm a corporate raider. I orchestrate hostile takeovers. What do
you think of that?
(Makes disgusting sucking noises and grunts)
Huh, bitch?
GIRL (O.S.)
Dad, is that you?
Bateman hangs up, frustrated.
EXT. STREET/INT. LIMOUSINE - NIGHT
Bateman cruises around in the limo. It pulls up alongside
CHRISTIE, a pretty blonde hooker in shorts and leather jacket.
Bateman opens his window to speak to her.
BATEMAN
I haven't seen you around here.
CHRISTIE
You just haven't been looking.
BATEMAN
Would you like to see my apartment?
Bateman flips on the light inside the limo. He's wearing a
tuxedo.
CHRISTIE
(looking away to some dark corner)
I'm not supposed to.
Bateman is holding out a $100 bill, which Christie now
notices, then takes.
BATEMAN
Do you want to come to my apartment or not?
CHRISTIE
I'm not supposed to.
(She pockets the bill)
But I can make an exception.
BATEMAN
Do you take American Express?
Christie is still looking out behind her.
BATEMAN
Do you take American Express?
Christie looks at him like he's crazy.
BATEMAN
I'm joking. Come on, get in.
As they drive uptown, Bateman dials the cell-phone. He
reads off a credit card number.
BATEMAN
I'd like a girl, early twenties, blonde, who does
couples. Couples. Fifty-five West Eighty-First, the
American Gardens Building. Apartment 7C. And I really
can't stress blonde enough. Blonde.
He hangs up.
BATEMAN I'm Paul. My name is Paul 0wen, have you'got that?
You are Christie. You are to respond only to Christie. Is
that clear?
INT. BATEMAN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
Christie is in the bathtub, Bateman is pouring in white
milky bath oil.
BATEMAN
That's a very fine Chardonnay you're drinking.
Long pause, in which Christie is luxuriating in the tub and
Bateman is casually touching her breast.
BATEMAN
I want you to clean your vagina.
Christie reaches for a washcloth.
BATEMAN
No. From behind. Get on your knees.
Christie shrugs.
BATEMAN
I want to watch. You have a very nice body.
The doorman RINGS. Bateman answers.
BATEMAN
Thank you. Send her up. Christie, get out and dry
off, choose a robe-not the Bijan and come and meet me and
our guest in the living room for drinks.
Bateman answers the door.
BATEMAN
You've arrived! How lovely, let me take your coat.
I'm Paul. How good of you to come.
The escort girl looks somewhat bewildered. Bateman takes
her coat and inspects her body and face.
BATEMAN
Not quite blonde, are you? More dirty blonde. I'm
going to call you Sabrina. I'm Paul Owen.
Bateman escorts her into the living room and brings her a
glass of wine. Christie enters, sitting next to Sabrina on the
couch, and Bateman sits across from them. There is a
long silence.
BATEMAN
So, don't you want to know what I do?
The two girls look at each other with uncomfortable smiles.
Christie shrugs.
CHRISTIE
No.
SABRINA
(Smiling)
No, not really.
Bateman is visibly irritated, recrosses his legs.
BATEMAN
Well, I work on Wall Street. At Pierce & Pierce.
(Long pause)
Have you heard of it?
Another long pause. They shake their heads. Christie stands
up and goes over to the CD collection.
CHRISTIE
You have a really nice place here...Paul.
How much did you pay for it?
BATEMAN
Actually, that's none of your business, Christie,
hut I can assure you it certainly wasn't cheap.
Bateman leaves to refill his wine glass and Sabrina takes a
pack of cigarettes out of her purse.
Bateman returns, carrying a tray of chocolates.
BATEMAN
No, no smoking. Not in here.
He walks over to Christie.
BATEMAN
Varda truffle?
Christie stares at the plate and shakes her head. Sabrina
takes one.
BATEMAN
I don't want you to get drunk, but that's a very
fine Chardonnay you're not drinking.
Bateman goes over to his CDs and scans his vast collection.
He takes one out and examines it.
BATEMAN
Do you like Phil Collins? I've been a big Genesis
fan ever since the release of their 1980 album, Duke. Before
that I really didn't understand any of their work. It was too
artsy, too intellectual. It was on Duke where Phil Collins'
presence became more apparent. He puts aside the CD and takes out
another one.
BATEMAN
I think "Invisible Touch" is the group's undisputed
masterpiece.
He puts on the song and gestures for them to follow him
into the bedroom.
BATEMAN
It's an epic meditation on intangibility, at the
same time it deepens and enriches the meaning of the preceding
three albums. Christie, take off the robe.
Bateman puts out a lace teddy. He motions to Christie to
put it on.
BATEMAN
Listen to the brilliant ensemble playing of Banks,
Collins and Rutherford. You can practically hear every nuance
of every instrument. Sabrina, remove your dress.
Bateman starts to undress.
BATEMAN
In terms of lyrical craftsmanship and sheer
songwriting, this album hits a new peak of professionalism.
Sabrina, why don't you dance a little?
Sabrina dances awkwardly. Christie sits on the bed.
BATEMAN
Take the lyrics to "Land of Confusion." In this
song, Phil Collins addresses the problem of abusive political
authority.
Bateman knots a silk scarf around Christie's neck - rather
menacingly - then helps her into some suede gloves.
BATEMAN
"In Too Deep" is the most moving pop song of the 1980s about
monogamy and commitment. The song is extremely uplifting.
Their lyrics are as positive and affirmative as anything
I've heard in rock.
He turns on the video camera.
BATEMAN
Christie, get down on your knees, so Sabrina can see your
asshole.
Bateman looks through the viewfinder.
BATEMAN
Phill Collins solo efforts seem to be more commercial and
therefore more satisfying in a narrower way, especially
songs like "In the Air Tonight" and "Against
All Odds." Sabrina, don't just stare at it. Eat it.
He walks over to the sound system in his bedroom and slides in
the CD.
BATEMAN
But I also think that Phill Collins works better
within the confines of the group than as a solo artist-and
I stress the word artist. This is "Sussudio," a great,
great song, a personal favorite.
SEX MONTAGE CUT TO "Sussudio." We see this in WIDE SHOT, or
through the LENS OF THE VIDEO CAMERA.
CUT TO:
Bateman asleep in his bed with Christie and Sabrina
on either side of him. Sabrina accidentally touches his
wrist. Bateman's eyes open.
BATEMAN
Don't touch the Rolex.
Bateman gets up from his bed and goes over to his armoire.
He opens the drawer in which are a nail gun, a coat hanger,
a rusty butter knife and a half-smoked cigar. He turns
around to see Christie and Sabrina both starting to get up
and get dressed. He takes the coat hanger.
BATEMAN
We're not through yet...
CUT TO:
Bateman ushering them out the door impatiently. They
are both sobbing, badly bruised and bleeding. Bateman has a
deep scratch on his hand and one on his shoulder. In the
b.g. Phil Collins' "In the Air Tonight" is playing.
INT. YALE CLUB � DAY
McDermott, Van Patten and Bateman are
having drinks. Price walks by with a gorgeous girl and
gives them the finger.
BATEMAN
What an asshole.
McDERMOTT
Why is Laurie Kennedy dating Price? He's a
fucking drug addict. No self-control.
VAN PATTEN
But Laurie Kennedy is a total hardbody. What do
you think, Bateman?
BATEMAN
I know her. I knew her.
McDERMOTT
Why do you say it like that? Why does he say it
like that?
VAN PATTEN
Because he dated her.
BATEMAN
How did you guess?
VAN PATTEN
Girls dig Bateman. He's CQ. You're total CQ,
Bateman.
BATEMAN
Thanks, guy, but...she's got a lousy
personality.
McDERMOTT
So what? It's all looks. Laurie Kennedy is a
babe. Don't even pretend you were interested for any other
reason.
VAN PATTEN
If they have a good personality, then something
is very wrong.
McDERMOTT
If they have a good personality and they are not
great looking-who fucking cares?
BATEMAN
Well, let's just say hypothetically, okay? What if
they have a good personality?
(He smiles giving up)
I know, I know-
ALL IN UNISON
There are no girls with good personalities!
(They laugh and high-five each other)
VAN PATTEN
A good personality consists of a chick with a
little hardbody who will satisfy all sexual demands without
being too slutty about things and who will essentially keep
her dumb fucking mouth
shut.
McDERMOTT
Listen, the only girls with good personalities who are
smart or maybe funny or halfway intelligent or even
talented-though God knows what the fuck that means-are ugly
chicks.
VAN PATTEN
Absolutely.
McDERMOTT
And this is because they have to make up for how
fucking unattractive they are.
Pause.
BATEMAN
Do you know what Ed Gein said about women?
VAN PATTEN
Ed Gein? Maitre d' at Canal Bar?
BATEMAN
No, serial killer, Wisconsin in the fifties. He was
an interesting guy.
McDERMOTT
So what did Ed say?
BATEMAN
He said, "When I see a pretty girl walking down the
street I think two things. One part of me wants to take her
out and talk to her and be real nice and sweet and treat
her right."
Pauses, finishes his drink.
McDERMOTT
What does the other part of him think?
BATEMAN
What her head would look like on a stick.
McDermott and Van Patten look at each other and then back
at Bateman. Bateman starts to laugh, and the other two uneasily
join In.
Luis Carruthers walks up to the table.
CARRUTHERS
(Shyly)
Hi, guys. I wanna get your opinion on something.
McDermott rolls his eyes at the rest of the table.
McDERMOTT If it's about the bow-tie you're wearing, you
know how we feel about it. Luis laughs good-naturedly.
CARRUTHERS
Yes, I do. No, it's my business card-I decided to
get a new one too.
He pulls out something incredibly tasteful. Everyone
compliments Luis except Bateman. The SOUND DROPS and all we hear
is the beating of his heart as he stares at the card enviously.
Luis plucks it from his hand and walks away, pleased with
himself.
VAN PATTEN
Listen, what about dinner?
BATEMAN
(Suddenly angry)
Is that all you ever have to contribute, Van Patten? "What about
fucking dinner?"
McDERMOTT
Ah, cheer up, Bateman.
(Slaps him on the back, massages his neck)
What's the matter? No shiatsu this morning?
BATEMAN
(Watching Luis going into the men's room)
Keep touching me like that and you'll draw back a stump.
McDERMOTT
Whoa, hold on there, little buddy.
BATEMAN
Excuse me.
He gets up from the table. As Bateman walks away, Van
Patten grabs a waiter.
VAN PATTEN
Is this tap water? I don't drink tap water Bring
me an Evian or something, okay?
INT. MEN'S ROOM - DAY
Bateman pulls on his gloves as he
enters the men's room. Carruthers is standing in a stall with his
back to Bateman. The sound of his urinating is heard until Bateman
approaches, then abruptly stops. Slowly, Bateman brings his hands
up over the collar of Carruthers' cashmere jacket, circling his
neck until both thumbs and index fingers meet. All we can hear
is the sound of Bateman's heavy breathing. Slowly he starts to
squeeze. Almost in slow motion, Carruthers turns around.
Carruthers looks down at Bateman's wrists as if lost in
thought. Then he lowers his head and kisses Bateman's
wrist. He looks back at Bateman with a shy, love-struck
expression, then reaches up and tenderly touches the side
of his face.
CARRUTHERS
God, Patrick. Why here?
He strokes Bateman's hair.
CARRUTHERS
I've seen you looking at me. I've noticed your hot body.
Carruthers tries to kiss him on the lips but Bateman backs
away. He drops his hands from Carruthers' neck. Carruthers
immediately takes them and places them back. Bateman drops
them again.
CARRUTHERS
Don't be shy.
Bateman takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and tries to lift
his hands again, but abandons the attempt.
CARRUTHERS
You don't know how long I've wanted it. Ever since that Christmas
party at Arizona 206. You know the one, you were wearing that
red-striped paisley Armani tie.
Bateman looks down and sees that Carruthers' pants are
still unzipped. He moves past him out of the stall and
stands by the sink and pretends to wash his hands until he
realizes he still has his gloves on. Carruthers comes up
behind him.
CARRUTHERS
I want you. I want you...too.
Bateman storms out of the men's room, bumping into a waiter
and several customers and cursing. Noticing the maitre d'
and another waiter conferring and looking at him strangely,
Bateman straightens up and smiles and waves cheerfully at
them. Carruthers walks up behind him.
BATEMAN
(Hissing)
What...is...it?
CARRUTHERS
Where are you going?
BATEMAN
(Stumbling away from him)
I've gotta...I've
gotta...return some videotapes.
CARRUTHERS
Patrick?
BATEMAN
What?
CARRUTHERS
(Silently mouthing the words)
I'll call you.
Bateman storms out of the restaurant.
INT. COURTNEY'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
Bateman is lying on top of Courtney in her bed, after sex.
Still panting, he rolls off her, onto his back. He feels
something lumpy underneath him and pulls out a stuffed toy,
a black cat with blue jewel eyes. There is silence.
COURTNEY
Will you call me before Thanksgiving?
BATEMAN
Maybe.
Courtney sighs and reaches for a bottle of pills on her
nightstand, swallowing several. Bateman gets up and begins
to dress, admiring himself in the mirror. Courtney watches
the TV at low volume.
COURTNEY
What are you doing tonight?
BATEMAN
Dinner at the River Cafe. Au Bar afterwards, maybe.
COURTNEY
That's nice.
BATEMAN
You and...Luis?
COURTNEY
(Lighting a cigarette)
We were supposed to have dinner at Tad and
Maura's, but-you know how Luis is...
BATEMAN
I never knew you smoked.
COURTNEY
(Smiling sadly)
You never noticed.
Bateman is making final adjustments to his tie.
COURTNEY
Listen...Patrick. Can we talk?
BATEMAN
You look marvelous. There's nothing to say. You're
going to marry Luis. Next week, no Less.
COURTNEY
(Sarcastically)
Isn't that special?
(A pause)
Patrick?
BATEMAN
Yes, Courtney?
C0URTNEY
If I don't see you before Thanksgiving, have a nice one, okay?
BATEMAN
(Flatly)
You too.
Courtney picks up the black cat and starts petting its
head. Bateman heads down the hallway to the front door.
COURTNEY
Patrick?
BATEMAN
Yes?
COURTNEY
Nothing.
INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT
A big eighties nightclub with a mixed crowd: hip-hop
kids, visitors from Jersey, downtown art people, yuppies.
I Bateman makes his way through the crowd to the bar, and
tries to attract the bartender's attention. He is wearing a
suit and his tie is loosened. Kimball approaches him.
KIMBALL
Mr. Bateman?
Bateman gasps and recovers.
BATEMAN
Detective Kendall...uh Campbell?
KIMBALL
Kimball.
(Extending his hand)
Call me Don.
BATEMAN
Don.
KIMBALL
So...you hang out here a lot?
BATEMAN
Uh, yes...I mean...whenever necessary. You
know.
Pause.
BATEMAN
How's the investigation going? Taken anyone
in for "formal questioning?" (He makes quotation marks
in the air and laughs a not-so-relaxed laugh)
KIMBALL
0h no. Informal conversations, mostly. What's that, Stoli?
BATEMAN
Yeah. No Finlandia, as usual. Fucking dump.
KIMBALL
(Looking at his glass)
Too true. You know, Bateman-people tend to reveal so much
more about themselves when they're in a relaxed setting,
don't you think?
Bateman is nodding nervously, idiotically.
KIMBALL
Some people just can t help themselves. Another Stoli?
Bateman shakes his head.
KIMBALL
I mean they want to get caught.
BATEMAN
Dan, great to see you again. Like I said, you need
anything at all, I'm your man. I don't envy your job. I mean
Owen was a...complex man.
Bateman wanders away.
He looks back uneasily at KIMBALL, who is watching him from
the bar. A GUY WITH DREADLOCKS walks by.
BATEMAN
(Holding up his hand to high-five) Rasta Man!
The man stares at him.
BATEMAN
I mean-Mon. We be jammin'...
The man walks by, shaking his head.
Bateman wanders into the next room, which is filled with a
more familiar crowd: young men in designer suits, girls in
black designer dresses. Across the room he spots McDermott
and Price sitting with three models, all wearing black
mini-dresses. Price and McDermott are having a whispered
argument.
PRICE
I have to talk to these girls? They're models.
McDERMOTT
Someone has to get the Bolivian marching powder.
You went last time. Stay here.
McDermott waves gaily to the girls and disappears.
Bateman looks at the models. DAISY and CARON are staring
into space, smoking. LIBBY is trying to work out how to
unfold her napkin. Price signals to Bateman for help.
PRICE
(Clapping his hands together)
Let's have a conversation. So...it was hot out today, no?
Silence.
LIBBY
Where did Craig go?
PRICE
Well, Gorbachev is downstairs. McDermott is going to
sign a peace treaty with him between the United States
and Russia. McDermott's the one behind glasnost, you know.
LIBBY
Well...yeah. But he told me he was in mergers and acquisitions.
PRICE
You're not confused, are you?
LIBBY
No, not really.
CARON
Gorbachev's not downstairs.
DAISY
(Smiling)
Are you Iying?
PRICE
Yes, Caron's right. Gorbachev's not downstairs. He's
at Tunnel.
BATEMAN
(To Daisy)
Ask me a question.
DAISY
So, what do you do?
BATEMAN
What do you think I do?
DAISY
A model? An actor?
BATEMAN
No. Flattering, but no.
DAISY
Well...
BATEMAN
I m into, well, murders and executions mostly.
DAISY (Unfazed)
Do you like it?
BATEMAN
Welt...it depends, why?
DAISY
Well, most guys I know who work in mergers and
acquisitions don't really like it.
Silence.
BATEMAN
So, where do you work out?
MUCH LATER IN THE EVENING:
The club is half-empty now. Price is leaning over a
balcony, messed-up on drugs. Bateman comes up behind him
in a menacing way that suggests he might push him over
the railing. Price turns around, wild-eyed, just as Bateman
is reaching for him.
PRICE
(Shouting)
I'm leaving. I'm getting out.
BATEMAN
Leaving what?
PRICE
This.
Bateman is confused, he thinks Price is referring to his
drink.
BATEMAN
Don't, I'll drink it.
PRICE
(Screaming)
Listen to me, Patrick. I'm leaving.
BATEMAN
Where to? Are you going to go get a gram?
PRICE
I'm leaving! I...am...leaving!
BATEMAN
Don't tell me...merchant banking?
PRICE
No, you dumb son of a bitch. I'm serious. I'm
disappearing.
BATEMAN
(laughing)
Where to? Morgan Stanley? Rehab? What?
Price looks away.
McDermott and Daisy walk up to them.
McDERMOTT
Hey-don't worry, be happy.
Price lifts his arms up as if greeting the crowd and is
shouting something that can't be heard, then
PRICE
Goodbye! Fuckheads!
He climbs over the railing.
DAISY What is he doing?
BATEMAN
Price! Come back!
Price leaps from the balcony. He disappears for a moment
then resurfaces and runs off into the crowd.
EXT. CLUB - NIGHT
Bateman and Daisy are waiting for a cab.
DAISY
My ex-boyfriend, Fiddler, who was in there, he plays
in this band that just opened for U2-he couldn't understand
what I was doing with a yuppie.
BATEMAN
Oh really?
DAISY
He said...
(She laughs)
He said you gave him bad vibes.
BATEMAN
That's...that's too bad.
DAISY
You think I'm dumb, don't you?
BATEMAN
What?
DAISY
You think I'm dumb. You think all models are dumb.
BATEMAN
(insincerely) No. I really don't.
DAISY
That's okay. I don't mind. There's something sweet about you.
She takes his hand as they get into a cab.
INT. DAISY'S HALLWAY - LATER THAT NIGHT
Bateman leaves Daisy's apartment carrying a suitcase. He pauses
in the hallway and tucks some long blonde hair back inside the
case.
INT. BATEMAN'S OFFICE - LATE AFTERNOON
Bateman sits at his desk wearing Wayfarers doing the New York
Times crossword puzzle at dusk.
Jean knocks gently on the half-open door and walks in with
a folder in her hand. Bateman ignores her.
JEAN
Doin' the crossword?
Bateman nods without looking up.
JEAN
Need help?
BATEMAN doesn't respond. We see that every space on the
puzzle has been filled in with the words MEAT or BONE. Jean
drops the folder on his desk and then walks out.
BATEMAN
Jean?
JEAN
(Re-enters office)
Yes, Patrick?
BATEMAN
Would you like to accompany me to dinner?
He erases one of the M's on the crossword puzzle.
BATEMAN
That is...if you're not doing anything.
JEAN
Oh no. I have no plans.
BATEMAN
(Lowering his Wayfarers)
Well, isn't this a coincidence.
A pause.
BATEMAN
Listen, where should we go?
He leans back and pulls a Zagat's from the desk drawer.
JEAN
Anywhere you want?
BATEMAN
Let's not think about what I want. How about
anywhere you want.
JEAN
Oh Patrick, I can't make this decision.
BATEMAN
No, come on. Anywhere you want.
JEAN
Oh, I can't.
(Sighs)
I don't know.
BATEMAN
Come on. Where do you want to go? Anywhere you want.
Just say it. I can get us in anywhere.
A long pause.
JEAN
What about...Dorsia?
Bateman stops looking through the Zagat's guide and smiles
at her.
BATEMAN
Soooo...Dorsia is where Jean wants to go...
JEAN
Oh, I don't know. No, we'll go anywhere you want.
BATEMAN
Dorsia is...fine.
He dials the number.
MAITRE D'
Dorsia, yes?
BATEMAN
Yes, can you take two tonight, oh, let's say at
nine o'clock?
He checks his Rolex and winks at Jean.
MAITRE D'
We are totally booked.
BATEMAN
Oh really? That's great.
MAITRE D'
I said we are totally booked.
BATEMAN
Two at nine? Perfect.
MAITRE D'
There are no tables available tonight. The waiting list is
also totally booked.
BATEMAN
See you then.
He hangs up the phone. He walks over to the coat rack. He
glances over at Jean, who is still standing in front of the
desk, confused.
BATEMAN
Yes? You're dressed...okay.
JEAN
You didn't give them a name.
BATEMAN
They know me.
Pause.
BATEMAN
Why don't you meet me at my house at seven o'clock
for drinks, okay?
She turns to leave.
BATEMAN
And Jean? You'll want to change before we go out.
INT. BATEMAN'S APARTMENT - EARLY EVENING
Jean stands by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out.
JEAN
Patrick, it's so...elegant. What a wonderful view.
Bateman opens up the freezer where Daisy's head is cleady
visible.
BATEMAN
Jean? Sorbet?
JEAN
Thanks, Patrick. I'd love some.
Bateman walks in with a bottle of wine and a corkscrew in
his hand and hands her the sorbet.
Jean is eating the sorbet.
JEAN
Want a bite?
BATEMAN
I'm on a diet. But thank you.
JEAN
You don't need to lose any weight. You're kidding, right?
You look great. Very fit.
BATEMAN
(Weighing the corkscrew examining the point for sharpness)
You can always he thinner. Look...better.
JEAN
Well, maybe we shouldn't go out to dinner. I don't
want to ruin your willpower.
BATEMAN
No. It's all right. I'm not very good at controlling
it anyway.
Silence, as Bateman walks around his apartment, opens up
his knife drawer, looking at the knives.
BATEMAN
So listen, what do you really want to do with your
life?
Pause.
BATEMAN
And don't tell me you enjoy working with children,
okay?
JEAN
Well, I'd like to travel. And maybe go back to school,
but I really don't know...I'm at a point in my life
where there seems lo be a lot of possibilities, but I'm so...
I don't know...unsure.
Bateman is touching a knife in the drawer, feeling the edge
of the blade.
BATEMAN
Do you have a boyfriend?
JEAN
No, not really.
BATEMAN
Interesting.
JEAN
(Shyly)
Are you seeing anyone? I mean, seriously?
BATEMAN
Maybe. I don't know Not really.
Bateman opens up a cupboard where there are a lot of very
Bateman opens a cupboard where there are a lot of neatly
ordered weapons - an ax, a rifle, a chain saw, duct tape,
twine and a nail gun.
BATEMAN
Jean, do you feel...fulfilled? I mean, in your life?
JEAN
Well, I guess I do. For a long time I was too focused
on my work, I think, but now I've really begun to think about
changing myself, you know, developing, and...growing.
BATEMAN
Growing. I'm glad you said that.
Bateman picks up the duct tape.
BATEMAN
Did you know that Ted Bundy's first dog, a collie,
was named Lassie? Had you heard this?
JEAN
Who's Ted Bundy?
BATEMAN
Forget it.
JEAN
What's that?
BATEMAN
Oh. Uh, tape. Duct tape. I...need it for...
taping something. Bateman goes back to the cupboard for the
nail gun.
JEAN
Patrick, have you ever wanted to make someone happy?
Jean puts her spoon down on the table.
BATEMAN
(Looking up from loading nails into the gun)
What...No! Put it in the carton.
JEAN
Sorry.
(She puts the spoon in the carton)
BATEMAN
Jean? What?
JEAN
Make someone happy-have you ever wanted to?
From behind, we follow Bateman as he walks across the room and
stands behind the couch.
BATEMAN
I'm looking for...I guess you could say I just
want to have a meaningful relationship with someone special.
JEAN
Hmmmm.
He points the nail gun at the back of Jean's head.
The phone RINGS. Startled, Bateman hides the nail gun
behind his back. The answering machine picks up. As Bateman
listens he discreetly places the nail gun behind the couch.
He sits down opposite Jean, enjoying her discomfort as she
listens to the message.
EVELYN
Patrick I know you're there. Pick up the phone, you bad boy.
What are you up to tonight? It's me. Don't try to hide. I hope
you're not out with some little number you picked up because
you're my Mr. Bateman. My boy next door. Anyway you never
called me and you said you would and I'll leave a message for
Jean about this too to remind you but we're having dinner with
Melania and Taylor-you know Melania, she went to Sweet Briar,
auld Taylor, he went to Cornell-and we're meeting at the Cornell
Club, so l'll call you tomorrow morning probably-bye, honey-oopps!
You hate that. Bye Mr. Big Time CEO Patrick. Bye. Bye.
Silence. Jean is obviously embarrassed and upset.
JEAN
Was that...Evelyn?
Silence.
JEAN
Are you still seeing her?
Silence.
JEAN
I'm sorry, I have no right to ask that.
Silence.
JEAN
Do you want me to go?
A long pause.
BATEMAN
Yes. I don t think I can...control myself.
JEAN
I know I should go. I know I have a tendency to get
involved with unavailable men, and...I mean, do you
want me to go?
Another long pause.
BATEMAN
If you stay, I think something bad will happen. I
think I might hurt you.
(Almost hopefully)
You don't want to get hurt, do you?
JEAN
No. No, I guess not. I don't want to get bruised.
You're right, I should go.
She gets up to leave.
JEAN
And don't forget you have a breakfast meeting with
Frederick Bennet and Charles Rust at '21.
BATEMAN
Thanks. It slipped my mind completely.
He sinks back on the sofa and shuts his eyes.
INT. BATEMAN'S OFFICE - DAY
Bateman enters P&P, walks up the corridor and pauses outside
the door to his office. He sees KIMBALL in conversation with
Jean, and Jean looking through her date book. He watches for
a moment, frozen with anxiety. He then bursts in, shutting
the door behind him.
BATEMAN
Kimball-I've been wanting to talk with you, Come
into my office. Jean, great jacket. Matsuda?
Jean looks flustered.
Kimball follows Bateman into his office.
KIMBALL
I actually came to see Timothy Price, but he's
taken a leave of absence.
BATEMAN
Yeah, gone into rehab. Shame.
(Hopefully)
Is he a suspect?
KIMBALL
Not really.
A pause.
KIMBALL
Do you remember where you were on the night of
Paul's disappearance?
(He checks his notebook)
Which was on the twentieth of December?
BATEMAN
God...I guess...I was probably returning
videotapes.
He opens his desk drawer and pretends to search through his
diary.
BATEMAN
I had a date with a girl named Veronica.
KIMBALL
Wait. That's not what I've got.
BATEMAN
What?
KIMBALL
That's not the information I've received.
BATEMAN
Well...I...Wait...What information have
you received?
KIMBALL
Let's see...
(He flips through his notebook)
That you were with-
BATEMAN
Well, I could he wrong.
KIMBALL
Well...When was the last time you were with Paul Owen?
BATEMAN
(Clearly nervous and under pressure)
We had...gone to a new musical called...Oh Africa, Brave Africa. It
was...a laugh riot...and that's about it. I think we had dinner
at Orso's. No, Petaluma. No, Orso's. The...last time I
physically saw him was...at an automated teller. I can't
remember which...just one that was near, um, Nell's.
Kimball is clearly giving up on Bateman for now. He opens
his briefcase to put away his notebook.
KIMBALL
Well, thank you, Mr. Bateman.
BATEMAN
Patrick, please. I hope I've been informative. Long
day-a bit scattered.
KIMBALL
Listen, I'm a little spent for now but how about lunch
in a week or so when I've sorted out all this information?
BATEMAN
Great, yes, I'd like that.
KIMBALL
And if you could try and pin down where you were
the night of Owen's disappearance, it would make my job a
lot easier.
BATEMAN
Absolutely. I'm with you on that one.
Kimball is rifling through his briefcase. He pulls out a
new shrink wrapped CD and holds it up.
KIMBALL
Huey Lewis and the News. Great stuff. Heard it? I
just bought it on my way here.
Bateman stares at the CD - stunned, terrified.
BATEMAN
Never. I mean...I don't really like...
singers.
KIMBALL
Not a big music fan, eh?
BATEMAN
No, I like music. Just-they're-Huey's too...
black sounding. For me.
KIMBALL
Well, to each his own. So-lunch, Thursday? I'll
call your secretary about reservations.
BATEMAN
I'll be there.
EXT. MEAT PACKING DISTRICT/INT. LIMOUSINE - NIGHT
The same street corner where Bateman found Christie before.
The limo is kept idling as he talks to her through a
half-opened window.
CHRISTIE
I'm not so sure about this. I had to go to Emergency after
last time...
BATEMAN
Oh this won't be anything like last time, I promise.
CHRISTIE
I don't think so.
He hands her a $500 bill.
BATEMAN
Just come in the limo and talk to me for a minute.
The driver's here, you'll be safe.
Christie gets in hesitantly.
BATEMAN
Nothing like last time, promise.
CHRISTIE
Alright.
He pours her a shot of vodka and makes her drink it.
BATEMAN
(Chatting as if they were at a cocktail party)
So, you're looking great, how have you been?
CHRISTIE
(A little confused)
Well, I actually might need a little surgery after last time.
BATEMAN
(Mock shock)
Really?
CHRISTIE
My friend told me I should maybe even get a
lawyer.
BATEMAN
Oh, lawyers are so complicated-don't do that. Here.
He writes her a check for $I ,000 to cash and hands it to
her. She snatches the check out of his hand and gets
quickly out of the limo, walking hurriedly down the street.
BATEMAN
Bitch.
He follows alongside her slowly in the limo, waving a huge
wad of cash at her. She hesitates; he uses the money to
lure her into the car. As she reluctantly gets into the
limo, she reaches for the money.
He snatches it away.
BATEMAN
Uh uh uh. Half now, half later.
She takes the money and puts it inside her shirt.
BATEMAN
Okay, your name is Christie. We're meeting a friend of mine,
Elizabeth. She'll be joining us in my new apartment shortly.
You'll like her. She's a very nice girl. Don't say anything
about yourself. Is that clear. Christie?
Christie nods.
INT. PAUL OWEN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
The living room: ELIZABETH has kicked off her shoes and flopped
down on the couch underneath the Baselitz. Elizabeth is an
attractive, dark-haired society girl who models occasionally.
Christie is sitting on the couch opposite her, pretending to
examine a CD.
ELIZABETH
You look really familiar. Did you you go to Dalton?
Christie shakes her head.
The kitchen: Bateman is grinding up tabs of Ecstasy and
putting them in a bottle of wine. In the living room, Elizabeth
is still staring at Christie as if she came from Mars.
ELIZABETH
I think I met you at Au Bar, didn't I ? With Spicey?
Christie looks blank.
ELIZABETH
Well, maybe not with Spicey but it was definitely at Au Bar.
Christie still blank.
ELIZABETH
You know, Au Bar?
Christie shakes her head.
ELIZABETH
Anyway, Au Bar sucks now, it's terrible. I went to a birth
day party there for Malcolm Forbes. Oh my God, please.
Bateman enters carrying the bottle of wine and two glasses.
Christie, who seems frightened, sips her wine and stares at
the floor. There is an awkward silence.
CHRISTIE
This is nicer than your other apartment.
BATEMAN
(Offended that she prefers Owen's apartment)
It's not that nice.
Silence.
CHRISTIE
Where did you two meet?
ELIZABETH
Oh God! I met him at, oh God, the Kentucky Derby in '86-no,
'87, and...
(Turning to Patrick)
You were hanging out with that bimbo Allison Poole.
(Sarcastically)
Hot number.
BATEMAN
What do you mean, she was a hot number.
ELIZABETH
If you had an American Express card she'd give you a blowjob.
(To Christie)
Listen, this girl worked in a tanning salon, need
I say more?...What do you do?
A long silence. Christie reddens and stares at the floor.
BATEMAN
She's my...cousin.
ELIZABETH
(Skeptically)
Uh huh?
BATEMAN
She's from...France.
A pause. Elizabeth looks at Bateman dubiously.
ELIZABETH
Where's your phone? I've got to call Harley.
Bateman hands her a cordless phone. She dials, and stares
At Christie while she waits for someone to answer.
ELIZABETH
Where do you summer? Southampton?
Christie looks at Bateman and then back at Elizabeth.
CHRISTIE
No.
ELIZABETH
(Listening to the receiver)
Oh God, it's his machine.
BATEMAN
Elizabeth, it's three in the morning.
ELIZABETH
He's a goddamn drug dealer! These are his peak hours.
BATEMAN
Don't tell him you're here.
ELIZABETH
Why would I?
Bateman has poured her another glass of wine. She downs the
whole glass, making a face.
ELIZABETH
This tastes weird.
(She examines the label and shrugs)
Harley? It's me. I need your services. Translate that anyway
you'd like. I'm at-
BATEMAN
(Whispering)
You're at Paul Owen s.
ELIZABETH
Who?
BATEMAN
(Whispering)
Paul Owen.
ELIZABETH
I want the number, idiot.
(She waves him away and continues into the reciever)
Anyway, I'm at Paul Norman's and I'll try you later and if I
don't see you at Canal Bar tomorrow night I'm going to sic my
hairdresser on you.
She hangs up.
ELIZABETH
Did you know that guy who disappeared? Didn't he work at Pierce
& Pierce, too? Was he a friend of yours?
BATEMAN
No.
ELIZABETH
Do you have any coke? Or Halcyon? I'd take a Halcyon.
Bateman sits next to Elizabeth on the couch and pours her
another glass of the drugged wine.
BATEMAN
Listen, I would just like to see...the two of you...get it on.
What's wrong with that? It's totally disease-free.
ELIZABETH
(Laughing)
Patrick, you re a lunatic.
BATEMAN
Come on. Don't you find Christie attractive?
ELIZABETH
Let's not get lewd.
(Flirty)
I'm in no mood to have a lewd conversation.
BATEMAN
Come on. I think it would be a turn-on.
ELIZABETH
(To Christie)
Does he do this all the time?
Christie shrugs.
BATEMAN
Christie, you're not drinking your wine.
Christie looks at her wine and gingerly takes a sip.
BATEMAN
(To Elizabeth)
Are you telling me you've never gotten it on with a girl?
ELIZABETH
No! I'm not a lesbian. Why do you think I'd be into that?
BATEMAN
Well, you went to Sarah Lawrence for one thing.
ELIZABETH
Those are Sarah Lawrence guys, Patrick. You're making me
feel weird.
LATER:
Elizabeth is now writhing around on the couch and making
out with Christie. Bateman holds up a Whitney Houston CD,
showing them the picture of Whitney on the cover.
BATEMAN
Did you know that Whitney Houston's debut LP
called simply Whitney Houston had four number-one singles
on it? Did you know that, Christie? Whitney's voice leaps
across so many boundaries and is so versatile-though she's
mainly a jazz singer-that it's hard to take in the album
on a first listening.
ELIZABETH
You actually listen to Whitney Houston? You
actually have a Whitney Houston CD? More than one?
She giggles, rolling off the sofa onto the floor.
BATEMAN
(Ignoring her)
It's hard to choose a favorite track
among so many great ones, but "The Greatest Love of All"
is one of the best, most powerful songs ever written about
self-preservation and dignity. It's universal message
crosses all boundaries, and instills one with the hope
that it's not too late to better ourselves. to act kinder.
Since, Elizabeth, it's impossible in the world we live in
to empathize with others, we can always empathize with
ourselves.
As he speaks, he opens the case and carefully places the CD
in the player, admiring its pristine silver surface, and
watches it slide into the machine.
BATEMAN
It's an important message, crucial, really, and it's
beautifully stated on the album.
INT. BEDROOM - LATER
AN OUT-OF-FOCUS HOME VIDEO SHOT of Elizabeth, Christie and
Bateman in the throes of sex, in the master bedroom.
CUT BACK TO WIDE SHOT of the bedroom, partially blocked by
the video camera in the foreground. Their bodies are an
incoherent tangle of arms and legs. The only sounds are
moans, heavy breathing and the slapping of flesh against
flesh. CLOSE ON Christie's head and shoulders. Her eyes are
shut as she grimly concentrates on giving a good professional
performance, turning her head every so often to check the
progress of her partners.
OFFSCREEN WE HEAR Elizabeth panting in genuine pleasure,
moaning loudly. Her voice gets louder and louder and then
shifts to actual pain.
Bateman rises up off the bed, suddenly appearing behind
Christie. There is blood on his face.
Christie turns her head and sees him. She screams and leaps
off the bed, running out of the room. She slams the
mirrored door behind her, and as it swings shut for a split
second we see Elizabeth writhing in pain on the bed.
We follow Christie out of the room, panicking, screaming.
Christie runs down a darkened hallway, frantically opening
doors, looking for an escape.
She hears the SOUND OF A CHAINSAW coming from the bedroom.
She opens a closet. The closet lights up as she opens the
door and sees two dead, women hanging inside. She screams,
then claps a hand over her mouth. She stops and listens. THE
DISTANT SOUND OF THE CHAINSAW.
She backs away slowly, into another dark room, lit only by
the light from a television set. Through the darkness she
sees a head on the top of the TV and starts to whimper.
She runs toward the nearest door. Finding herself in the
main hallway, she begins to jog toward the front door, then
runs.
Bateman appears from nowhere, holding the chainsaw,
spattered with blood.
Christie screams and changes direction. Bateman leaps at
her, bellowing.
They run through the bedroom and into the bathroom.
Christie trips over Elizabeth's body, which is half in the
bathtub.
Both are slipping on the floor, which is slick with blood.
Christie falls, tries to get up. Bateman grabs her leg. He
tries to bite it.
She kicks him in the face and gets up, running toward the
front door.
He runs after her.
BATEMAN
Not the face, you bitch. Not the fucking face, you
piece of bitch trash!
Christie, screaming, makes it out the front door.
Bateman runs after her.
She runs down the hall screaming and banging on doors.
She moves to the elevator, pounding hysterically on the
buttons. She sees the stairwell and runs for it.
Bateman sees this and runs after her, revving the chainsaw.
She runs down the stairs, Bateman two flights behind her.
He stops, leans over the railing to look at her, then aims
the chainsaw at her and drops it.
Christie SCREAMS OFFSCREEN, then is suddenly silent.
FROM BATEMAN'S POV we see Christie's body sprawled facedown
at the bottom of the stairwell. The chainsaw sticks out of
her back like a sword.
INT. CRAYONS - EARLY EVENING
An insanely expensive restaurant with a childhood motif: paper
tablecloths and jars of crayons for drawing, lots of primary
colors, and a goldfish bowl on each table.
Bateman is at a table with Evelyn. They are both drawing on
the tablecloth. Bateman is drawing Christie with the
chainsaw in her back.
EVELYN
I want a firm commitment.
BATEMAN
I think, Evelyn, that we've...lost touch.
Evelyn waves to a couple across the room.
EVELYN
(Distracted)
Why? What's wrong?
BATEMAN
(Speaking very carefully, measuring each word)
My need to engage in homicidal behavior on a massive scale
cannot be, um, corrected, but I have no other way to fulfill
my needs.
The woman across the room holds up her hand, displaying a
new bracelet. Evelyn smiles and nods approvingly.
BATEMAN
We need to talk.
EVELYN
Talk about what, Patrick? What is there to talk
about?
BATEMAN
It's over, Evelyn. It's all over
EVELYN
(Motioning to the waiter for water)
Touchy, touchy. I'm sorry I brought the wedding up. Let's just
avoid the issue, alright? Now, are we having coffee?
BATEMAN
I'm fucking serious. It's fucking over. Us. This
is no joke. I don't think we should see each other anymore.
EVELYN
But your friends are my friends. My friends are your
friends. I don't think it would work.
(Reaching over to dab his face with a napkin)
You have a little something on your upper lip.
BATEMAN
(Brushing her hand away)
I know that your friends are my friends. I've thought about
that. You can have them.
Evelyn stares at him, suspicious and bewildered, a
realization dawning.
EVELYN
You're really serious, aren't you?
BATEMAN
Yes, I am.
EVELYN
But what about the past? Our past?
BATEMAN
We never really shared one.
EVELYN
You're inhuman.
BATEMAN
I'm...in touch with humanity. Evelyn, I'm sorry.
(He pauses, as if searching for the right words)
You're just not terribly important to me.
Evelyn begins to cry.
EVELYN
No, no, no.
BATEMAN
I know my behavior is...erratic sometimes.
She reaches desperately across the table and takes his
hand. Bateman pulls his hand away.
EVELYN
(Sobbing)
What do you want me to do, what is it you want?
The occupants of nearby tables begin to stare. Bateman is
becoming increasingly agitated and embarrassed.
BATEMAN
(Looking uncomfortably around the room)
If you really want to do something for me, you can stop making
this scene right now.
EVELYN
Oh God, I can't believe this.
BATEMAN
I'm leaving now. I've assessed the situation and I'm going.
Evelyn makes an effort to compose herself. She blots the
tears so they will not affect her make-up.
EVELYN
(Surprisingly calm)
Where are you going?
BATEMAN
I'm just leaving.
EVELYN
But where?
BATEMAN
I have to return some videotapes.
He rushes out of the room.
EXT. TRIBECA STREET - EVENING
Bateman wanders into misty Tribeca streets, sees a stray cat.
BATEMAN
Here kitty, kitty.
The small mangy cat rubs against him. He picks it up and
walks toward an ATM, holding the cat. He puts his card in
the machine. The screen reads: FEED ME A STRAY CAT.
Bateman begins to attempt to shove the kitten into the
deposit slot with some difficulty. The kitten squeals. He
takes a gun from out of his pocket and points it at the
kitten. He doesn't notice the woman waiting behind him.
WOMAN
Oh my God! Stop that! What are you doing?
Bateman wheels around and shoots her. She falls screaming
to the floor.
Responding to the gunshot, A POLICE CAR SIREN WAILS in the
distance. Bateman breaks into a run. The police car
screeches after him.
COP CAR (O.S.)
HALT STOP. PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPON.
Bateman ducks down an alley.
EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT
A COP rushes toward him, seemingly from
out of nowhere, and tackles him, trying to get the gun away
from him.
Bateman manages to shoot the cop in the face while both of
them have their hands on the gun, then shoots him again. He
reloads the gun. The sound of more COP CARS arriving.
He runs out of the alley.
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
As he reaches the street, he finds A PHALANX OF POLICE CARS
approaching.
COP CAR
Halt. Put down your weapon.
The cops leap out and fire a warning shot in the air.
Bateman shoots at them. The police return fire.
Bateman ducks down behind a parked car and continues
shooting wildly. A bullet hits the gas tank of one of the
police cars. It catches fire and explodes. The flames light
up the scene, illuminating the bodies of policemen both living
and dead.
NEW ANGLE: Bateman flees from the scene. The camera follows
him as he runs along a row of Porsches, trying to open each
one, setting off a cacophony of CAR ALARMS.
THE SOUND OF POLICE SIRENS draws near.
NEW ANGLE: He runs, panting, until he ends up in front of a
tail, brilliantly lit office building. As he approaches,
the lights in the building are going off floor by floor.
INT. OFFICE BUILDING - NIGHT
He rushes into the lobby, running for the elevator.
NIGHT WATCHMAN
Burning the midnight oil, Mr. Smith? You
forgot to sign in.
Bateman wheels around and shoots him. He runs toward the
revolving doors. As he swings around in the doors, he
notices a JANITOR who has witnessed the shooting. He
revolves back into the lobby and shoots the janitor.
NEW ANGLE:
He runs out of the building and across the
street to an identical office building, the one that houses
Pierce & Pierce.
INT. PIERCE & PIERCE LOBBY - NIGHT
Bateman nods at the Pierce & Pierce NIGHT WATCHMAN and signs
in. He breathes a sigh of relief as the elevator doors close
behind him.
INT. BATEMAN'S OFFICE - NIGHT
Bateman stands looking out
through the floor-length windows at a panoramic night view
of the city and the river.
Below him he sees a SWAT TEAM swarming over the roof of the
opposite building. There are ambulances standing by, flares
everywhere, distant sirens.
Suddenly, THE SOUND OF A HELICOPTER draws near. Frightened,
he drops to the floor behind his desk.
Helicopter searchlights scan the building, illuminating
Bateman's office for a few moments with a blaze of light.
He is crouched in one corner, half-sobbing, talking into
the phone, as the searchlight keeps circling.
BATEMAN
Harold, it's Bateman. Patrick Bateman. You're my
lawyer so I think you should know-I've killed a lot of
people. Some escort girls, in an apartment uptown, some
homeless people, maybe five or ten, an NYU girl I met in
Central Park. I left her in a parking lot, near Dunkin'
Donuts. I killed Bethany, my old girlfriend, with a nail
gun. and a man, some old faggot with a dog. Last week I
killed another girl with a chainsaw-I had to, she almost
got away There was someone else there, maybe a model, I
can't remember but she's dead too. And Paul Owen. I killed
Paul Owen with an ax, in the face. His body is dissolving
in a bathtub in Hell's Kitchen. I don't want to leave anything
out here...I guess I've killed 20 people, maybe 40-I have tapes
of a lot of it. Some of the girls have seen the tapes, I even...
well, I ate some of their brains and I tried to cook a little.
Tonight I just, well, I had to kill a lot of people and I'm not
sure I 'm going to get away with it this time-I mean I guess
I'm a pretty sick guy. So-if you get hack tomorrow, I may show
up at Harry's Bar, so, you know, keep your eyes open.
Bateman hangs up the phone. The helicopter searchlight
circles back, briefly illuminating the room. The camera rises
up over Bateman huddled in the corner, staring blankly at the
sky.
INT. SMITH AND WOLLENSKY RESTAURANT - DAY
KIMBALL and Bateman are sitting at a corner table.
KIMBALL
(Very surprised)
No hash browns?
BATEMAN
Not in the mood, I guess.
KIMBALL
But...everyone orders the hash browns here. I
mean- it's-have you been here before?
BATEMAN
(Deliberately nonchalant)
Yes, of course. The hash browns are delicious. I'm just...not...
ordering them.
KIMBALL
(Looking at him like he's nuts)
Suit yourself, I guess.
Pause.
KIMBALL
So, the night he disappeared? Any new thoughts on
what you did?
BATEMAN
I'm not really sure. I had a shower...and some
sorbet?
KIMBALL
I think maybe you've got your dates mixed up.
BATEMAN
But how? Where do you place Paul that night?
KIMBALL
According to his date book, and this was verified by his
secretary, he had dinner with...Marcus Halberstam.
BATEMAN
And?
KIMBALL
I've questioned him.
BATEMAN
Marcus?
KIMBALL
Yes. And he denies it. Though at first he couldn't
be sure.
BATEMAN
But Marcus denied it?
KIMBALL
Yes.
BATEMAN
Well, does Marcus have an alibi?
KIMBALL
Yes.
A pause.
BATEMAN
He does? You're sure?
KIMBALL
(smiling)
I checked it out. It's clean.
BATEMAN
Oh.
KIMBALL Now where were you?
(He laughs)
BATEMAN
(Laughing with him)
Where was Marcus?
KIMBALL
He wasn't with Paul
Owen.
BATEMAN
So who was he with?
KIMBALL
He was at Atlantis with Craig McDermott, Frederick Dibble,
Harry Newman, George Butner and �
(He pauses, Then looks up)
- you.
A moment of stunned silence.
BATEMAN
Oh, right. Of course...We had wanted Paul Owen
to come. But he said he had plans...I guess I had dinner
with Victoria...the following night.
KIMBALL
Personally I think the guy went a little nutso. Split town for
a while. Maybe he did go to London. Sightseeing. Drinking.
Whatever. Anyway, I'm pretty sure he'll turn up sooner or
later.
(A pause)
I mean, to think that one of his friends
killed him, for no reason whatsoever would be too
ridiculous. Isn't that right, Patrick?
McDermott stops by the table.
McDERMOTT
KIMBALL! How's the investigation?
Talking to Bateman? Don't believe a word he says.
(Laughs uproariously slapping him on the back)
Bateman, what's wrong with ,you?
Bateman looks at him in silence,
panicking.
McDERMOTT
You can't eat at Smith and Wollensky
without ordering the hash browns. Jesus, Bateman, you're a
raving maniac. Been at Pierce & Pierce too long.
(He wanders off muttering)
No fucking hash browns...
INT. PAUL OWEN'S APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY
Bateman walks into the lobby of Paul Owen's building. He
has a surgical mask in one hand.
DOORMAN
What can I do for you, sir?
BATEMAN
20B.
DOORMAN
Of course. Mrs. Wolfe is up there right now.
BATEMAN
Mrs. Wolfe?
DOORMAN
The real estate agent? You do have an appointment,
don't you?
Bateman steps out of the elevator and walks cautiously down
the hallway. Owen's door is open. The apartment is freshly
painted and has been immaculately redecorated in English
country-house style: overstuffed sofas, lots of chintz. There
are flowers everywhere, and a YOUNG YUPPIE COUPLE stands
admiring the place talkingto the realtor, MRS. WOLFE. Bateman
wanders down the hallway, looking for familiar signs. He stops
at the closet where we last saw two dead girls hanging. He
opens the door and the light switches on, but it is empty. Mrs.
Wolfe approaches, smiling.
MRS. WOLFE
Are you my two o'clock?
BATEMAN
No.
Mrs. Wolfe eyes him strangely, then looks down at the
surgical mash clutched in his hand. Her expression changes.
MRS. WOLFE
Can I help you?
BATEMAN
I'm looking for...Paul Owen's...place.
She stares at him impassively.
BATEMAN
Doesn't he live here?
MRS. WOLFE
No, he doesn't.
BATEMAN
Are you sure?
MRS. WOLFE
You saw the ad in the Times?
BATEMAN
No. Yes. I mean yes, I did. In the Times. But...
doesn't Paul Owen still live here?
MRS. WOLFE
There was no ad in the Times.
Bateman is shaking as they continue to stare at each other.
MRS. WOLFE
I think you should go now.
BATEMAN
But I think...I want to know what happened
here.
MRS. WOLFE
Don't make any trouble. Please. I suggest you go.
Bateman backs away slowly.
MRS. WOLFE
Don't come back.
BATEMAN
I won't...don't worry.
Mrs. Wolfe glares at him as he walks down the hall,
rattled, and gets into the elevator.
EXT. DEPARTMENT STORE - DAY
Bateman enters the revolving
door of an office building, panicking and breathing
heavily. He is sweating, his hair is wild, and he looks
deranged. He goes around the revolving door twice and comes
out onto the street again, where he bumps smack into a GUY
just like him.
GUY
Hey, Kinsley.
Bateman looks up at him wild-eyed.
GUY
See you at Fluties, okay?
The guy walks away, utterly unfazed. Bateman wanders down
the street, banging his briefcase against walls, garbage
cans, etc.
EXT. MIDTOWN PHONE BOOTH - DAY
Bateman searches his pockets
for pills. He finds three different pills and swallows
them. He's sweating, and takes his jacket off to wipe his
face, dialing a number.
JEAN (O.S.)
Patrick Bateman's office.
BATEMAN
Jean? Hello? Jean?
JEAN (O.S.)
Patrick? Is that you?
BATEMAN
Hello? Jean, I need help!
JEAN (O.S.)
Where are you?
BATEMAN
Jean-I'm not-
JEAN (O.S.)
Craig McDermott called. He wants to meet you and
David Van Patten and Tim Price at Harry's for drinks.
BATEMAN
Oh God, what did you say, you dumb bitch?
JEAN (O.S.)
Patrick? I can't hear you.
BATEMAN
What are I doing?
JEAN (O.S.)
Where are you? Patrick, what's wrong?
BATEMAN
I don't think I'm gonna make it, Jean.
Pause.
BATEMAN
...to the office this afternoon.
JEAN (O.S.)
Why?
BATEMAN
(Screaming)
Just...say...no!
JEAN (O.S.)
What is it, Patrick? Are you alright?
BATEMAN
Stop sounding so Fucking sad! Jesus!
He hangs up. He throws the Walkman which is around his neck
into a nearby trash can, and wipes his face with his
jacket.
INT. BATEMAN'S OFFICE- SAME DAY
Jean sits at Bateman's desk. She looks around, and then opens
his desk drawer and tentatively begins to search through it.
INT. HARRY'S BAR - EVENING
Bateman comes into the bar, a little cleaned up from the
previous scene (he's smoothed his hair), but still panicking
and disheveled. He spots his friends in a corner, sits down,
still breathing heavily.
Price is on his cell-phone, trying to get reservations.
McDERMOTT
Bateman, you're looking a little wild-eyed rough
day at the office?
They all laugh.
McDERMOTT
Hey, look-Price is back. And he's drinking
Perrier. He s a changed man. Except...he still can't
get a reservation to save his life.
Bateman sits down silently.
McDERMOTT
Why don't you try I 50 Wooster? Just fucking call them.
BATEMAN
(On automatic)
I'm not going anywhere unless we
have a reservation.
VAN PATTEN Le Cirque, Flamingo East, Oyster Bar, come on,
faggots-just get a res.
PRICE
Keep your shirt on. Maybe lose the suspenders.
Bateman spots HAROLD CARNES at the bar, tenses.
BATEMAN
(He downs his drink)
Excuse me, gentlemen. Right back.
He approaches Carnes cautiously.
CARNES
Face it-the Japanese will own most of this country by the
end of the '90s.
Bateman approaches, trying to act casual.
BATEMAN
Shut up, Carnes, they will not.
Carnes is surprised, turns around, looks vaguely confused.
BATEMAN
So, Harold, did you get my message?
Carnes lights a cigarette, stalling. Then laughs.
CARNES
Jesus, Davis. Yes. That was hilarious. That was you,
wasn't it?
BATEMAN
(Waving smoke out of his face)
Yes, naturally.
CARNES
Bateman killing Owen and the escort girls? Oh that s
fabulous. That's rich...
Pause
CARNES
It was a pretty long message, wasn't it?
BATEMAN
What exactly do you mean?
CARNES
The message you left.
Carnes is distracted, waving at people.
CARNES
By the way Davis, how is Cynthia? You're still
seeing her, right?
BATEMAN
But wait, Harold, what do you mean?
Carnes isn't really listening.
CARNES
Excuse me. Nothing. Good to see you. Is that Edward Towers?
He turns to go.
BATEMAN
Carnes? Wait.
CARNES
(Sighing)
Davis. I'm not one to bad-mouth anyone, your joke was amusing.
But come on, man, you had one fatal flaw: Bateman's such a dork,
such a boring, spineless lightweight, that I couldn't fully
appreciate it. I wasn't fooled for a second. Now, if you'd said
Price, or McDermott...Otherwise, it was amusing. Now, let's
have lunch or dinner or something. Hilarious, Davis. A killer.
BATEMAN
What are you talking about? Bateman is what?
CARNES
Oh Christ. He can barely pick up an escort girl, let
alone...what was it you said he did to her?
Carnes looks around the club, raises his glass to a passing
couple. He laughs politely.
CARNES
Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must...
BATEMAN
(Desperate, shouting)
Wait. Stop. You don't seem to understand. You're not really
comprehending any of this. I killed him. I did it, Carnes.
I'm Patrick Bateman. I chopped Owen's fucking head off.
I tortured dozens of girls. The whole message I left on your
machine was true.
CARNES
Excuse me. I really must he going.
BATEMAN
No! Listen, don't you know who I am? I'm not Davis, I'm
Patrick Bateman! I talk to you on the phone all the time!
Don't you recognize me? You're my lawyer.
Carnes stares at him in confusion and annoyance.
BATEMAN
Now, Carnes, listen to me. Listen very, very carefully. I killed
Paul Owen and I liked it. I can't make myself any clearer
CARNES
But that's simply not possible. And I don't find
this funny anymore.
BATEMAN
It never was supposed to he! Why isn't it possible?
CARNES
(Eyeing Bateman worriedly)
It's just not.
BATEMAN
Why not, you stupid bastard?
Carnes stares at him.
CARNES
Because I had dinner with Paul Owen twice in
London...just ten days ago.
BATEMAN
No, you...didn't?
CARNES
Now, if you'll excuse me.
Bateman returns back to his friends' table, in a daze.
They are all looking at the television, where Ronald
Reagan is giving a speech about Iran Contra. They are
halfheartedly arguing about whether or not he's
lying.
PRICE
How can he lie like that? How can he pull that shit?
VAN PATTEN
What shit? Now where do we have reservations at?
I mean I'm not really hungry, but I would like to have
reservations somewhere.
PRICE
(To Bateman)
I don't believe it. He looks so...normal. He seems so...
out of it. So...undangerous.
McDERMOTT
He is totally harmless you geek. Was totally harmless.
Just like you are totally harmless. But he did do all that
shit and you have failed lo get us into I 50, so, you know,
what can I say?
PRICE
I just don't see how someone, anyone, can appear that
way and yet be involved in such total shit. How can you be so
fucking, I don't know, cool about it?
VAN PATTEN
Some guys are just born cool, I guess.
Bateman laughs at this. Price shoots him a look.
PRICE
And Bateman, what are YOU SO fucking zany about?
BATEMAN
I'm just a happy camper. Rockin' and a-rollin'.
VAN PATTEN
(To Price) Rehab's done wonders for you, pal.
Working for UNICEF now?
McDERMOTT
Do you want another Perrier Timothy? Some seltzer water?
PRICE
Oh brother look-he presents himself as a harmless
Old codger. But inside...
Pause.
PRICE
But inside...
The SOUNDS OF THE BAR FADE AWAY and we hear Bateman's thoughts:
BATEMAN (V.O.)
But inside doesn't matter...
THE SOUNDS OF THE BAR RETURN.
McDERMOTT
(Bored)
Inside? Yes, inside? Believe it or not, Price we're actually
listening to you.
PRICE
Bateman? Come on, what do you think?
Bateman looks up and smiles at Price. Then shrugs.
BATEMAN
Whatever.
The conversation breaks up as Van Patten takes out his phone.
VAN PATTEN
Whose moronic idea was it to drink dry beers? I need a Scotch.
The sounds of the bar fade down. The following voiceover runs
over images of Bateman and his friends ordering drinks, talking
on portable phones, talking, laughing - combined with images of
other very similar young men at other tables drinking, talking
on portable phones, talking, laughing,
BATEMAN (V.O.)
There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with
the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil,
all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward
it, I have now surpassed...
INT. BATEMAN'S OFFICE - DAY
Jean is alone in Bateman's office, looking through his diary.
We see the pages that she is looking at. They are filled with
doodles of mutilated women and their names...Jean looks lost
and frightened, and begins to cry.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better
world for anyone. I fact I want my pain to be inflicted on
others. I want no escape.
INT. HARRY'S BAR - EARLY EVENING
As the film ends the camera moves CLOSE on Bateman. He is
leaning back in his leather armchair, drinking a double Scotch,
his eyes blank.
BATEMAN (V.O.)
But even after admitting this, there is no catharsis. I gain no
deeper knowledge about myself, no new knowledge can be extracted
from my telling. There has been no reason for me to tell you any
of this. This confession has meant nothing...
The camera moves up to a sign on the wall behind him:
"THIS IS NOT AN EXIT."
CREDITS ROLL
