Avatar Page #3
The room gets very quiet.
QUARITCH:
We have an indigenous population of
humanoids here called the Na'vi. They're
fond of arrows dipped in a neurotoxin
which can stop your heart in one minute.
We operate -- we live -- at a constant
threat condition yellow.
PAN ACROSS the solid faces of miners, Cat-machine drivers,
engineers, geologists, as they take that in.
QUARITCH:
As head of security, it's my job to keep
you alive. I will not succeed --
(pausing for effect)
-- not with all of you. If you wish to
survive, you need a strong mental
attitude, you need to follow procedure...
PUSH IN ON JAKE, watching as the briefing continues.
JAKE (V.O.)
Nothing like an old-school safety brief
to put your mind at ease.
CUT TO:
INT. CORRIDOR
People are roaming in both directions, looking for rooms,
lugging duffels and cases.
An eager young XENOANTHROPOLOGIST, staggering under an
overpacked duffel, runs to catch up to Jake.
NORM:
Hey, you're Jake right? Tom's brother?
You look just like him.
(off Jake's wary look)
Sorry, I'm Norm Spellman, I went through
avatar training with him.
11.
Norm offers his hand and Jake shakes it.
NORM:
He was a great guy -- funny. It was a
big shock to all of us.
JAKE:
Yeah.
Jake pumps the wheels of his chair, rolling on. Norm walks
with him.
NORM:
And duh! -- obviously you look like him.
I mean, if you weren't genetically
identical, you wouldn't be taking over
his avatar.
JAKE:
That's why I'm here.
NORM:
So -- you want to go check it out?
CUT TO:
INT. BIO-LAB - DAY
JAKE AND NORM enter the BIO-LAB -- a large lab complex with
many adjoining rooms.
MAX:
Me and Norm were out here to drive these
remotely controlled bodies called
avatars. They're grown from human DNA
mixed with DNA from the natives here.
A scientist, DOCTOR MAX CULLIMORE, is supervising the
uncrating of two SHIPPING CONTAINERS. The nearer has the
sides removed, revealing -- a ceiling-height acrylic TANK.
Norm stops to stare, and Jake rolls past him as if drawn by
THE AMNIO TANK. There is a FIGURE floating lanquidly inside,
which looks like a man. A very large, very blue, man.
Blood circulates through a synthetic UMBILICAL in the
abdomen. As the figure turns in the amniotic fluid, we see
that it has a lemur-like TAIL. The skin is cyan-blue. Long
black hair drifts, graceful as seaweed.
JAKE:
Damn. They got big.
12.
NORM:
Yeah, they mature on the trip out.
(to Max)
So the proprioceptive sims worked pretty
well.
MAX:
Yeah, they've got great muscle tone. Give
us a few hours, you guys can take them
for a spin.
THE FIGURE'S sleeping face turns toward us, and the features
are -- despite feline ears and a long feral snout --
definitely JAKE'S.
JAKE:
It looks like him.
NORM:
No, it looks like you. This is your
avatar now, Jake.
ON JAKE, mesmerized as he stares into the tank.
JAKE (V.O.)
The idea is -- every driver is matched to
his own avatar --
STEREOCAM VIDEO SHOT OF JAKE -- facing the camera, talking
directly to the lens. JAKE'S VOICE-OVER up until now has
been part of this VIDEOLOG.
JAKE:
-- so their nervous systems are in tune.
Or something. Which is why they offered
me this gig, because I can link with
Tommy's avatar, which was insanely
expensive.
(looking off camera)
Is this right? I just say whatever in
these videologs?
WIDER, showing Norm working nearby with Max.
NORM:
Yeah. You just need to get in the habit
of documenting everything -- what you
see, what you feel -- it's all part of
the science. Good science starts with
good observation.
13.
JAKE:
Right.
(to camera)
So, whatever. Here I am. Doing science.
(looks around)
Never been in a lab before.
MAX:
Log off. It's time to meet your boss for
the next five years.
He leads Jake and Norm through the short corridor to the --
CUT TO:
The LINK ROOM contains a dozen PSIONIC LINK UNITS, which look
like coffins crossed with MRI scanners.
NORM:
Grace Augustine is a legend. She's the
head of the Avatar Program, and she wrote
the book -- I mean literally wrote the
book -- on Pandoran botany.
MAX:
(low, over his shoulder)
That's because she likes plants better
than people.
DR. GRACE AUGUSTINE sits up in her link, stretching and
cracking her neck after a long session. She's fifty, with a
strong face and fiercely intelligent eyes.
GRACE:
(YELLING)
Who's got my goddamn cigarette?!
A TECH scurries to bring it to her, already lit. Around here
they jump when Grace barks.
Grace stands, scowling, as Jake, Norm and Max approach.
MAX:
And here she is, Cinderella back from the
ball. Grace, I'd like you to meet Norm
Spellman and Ja --
GRACE:
Norm. I hear good things about you.
How's your Na'vi?
14.
NORM:
(Na'vi, subtitled)
May the All Mother smile upon our first
meeting.
Grace nods approvingly, taking a drag on her cigarette.
GRACE:
(SUBTITLED)
Not bad. You sound a little formal.
NORM:
(SUBTITLED)
There is still much to learn.
Jake waits while they ignore him, chattering in fluent Na'vi.
MAX:
Uh, Grace, this is Jake S----
GRACE:
(turning to Jake)
Yeah, yeah, I know who you are, and I
don't need you. I need your brother.
(to Max)
You know -- the PhD who trained three
years for this mission.
JAKE:
He's dead. I know it's a big
inconvenience to everyone.
GRACE:
How much lab training have you had? Ever
run a gas chromatograph?
JAKE:
No.
GRACE:
Any actual lab work at all?
JAKE:
High school chemistry. But I ditched.
Grace wheels on Max.
GRACE:
You see? You see? They're pissing on us
without even the courtesy of calling it
rain.
(turning away)
I'm going to Selfridge.
15.
She shoves past Jake.
MAX:
Grace, that's not a good idea.
But she's already out the door and clomping down the
corridor. Max turns to Jake with a pained look.
MAX:
Here, tomorrow, oh eight hundred. Try to
use big words.
CUT TO:
It looks like an air-traffic control tower, with lots of
screens and bay windows showing the whole complex.
ADMINISTRATOR PARKER SELFRIDGE takes a ball from a newly
opened case of TITLEISTS and sets it on the floor. Selfridge
is young, charismatic, focused. Some would say ruthless.
He assumes the stance and lines up his putt, toward a
practice cup across the control room floor. He glances up as
Grace strides toward him.
GRACE:
Parker, I used to think it was benign
neglect, but now I see you're
intentionally screwing us.
SELFRIDGE:
Grace. You know I enjoy our little
talks.
GRACE:
I need a research assistant, not some
jarhead dropout.
Selfridge looks down and hits the ball.
Grace kicks the practice cup aside, and the ball rolls past.
Selfridge looks at her with a sigh.
SELFRIDGE:
Actually, we got lucky with him.
GRACE:
Lucky? How is this in any way lucky?
As Selfridge saunters over to retrieve the ball --
16.
SELFRIDGE:
Well -- lucky your guy had a twin
brother, and lucky the brother wasn't an
oral hygienist or something. A Marine we
can use. I'm assigning him to your team
as security escort.
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"Avatar" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/avatar_138>.
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