Blade Runner Page #11

CUT TO:

INT. SEBASTIAN'S LOBBY - NIGHT (SHOT)

Stacks of gaudy balconies loom into shadows above.

Overhead lights reveal a shark-like blimp cruising

above the building glowing with advertisements.

Pris stares in wonder.

PRIS:

And you live in this building all

by yourself ?

SEBASTIAN:

Yeah, I live here pretty much alone

right now....

CUT TO:

INT. CAGE ELEVATOR (SHOT)

Pris and Sebastian are standing in the mesh elevator

as it grumbles noisily into the shadows above.

INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT (SHOT)

Pris and Sebastian are standing in the mesh elevator

as it grumbles noisily into the shadows above.

INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT (SHOT)

Sebastian and Pris walk down the corridor towards

his apartment .

PRIS (WILD LINE)

No housing shortage around here.

SEBASTIAN (WILD LINE)

Plenty of room for everybody... most

of the others have emigrated already.

INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT

Sebastian is unlocking his door. He opens the door

and ushers Pris into the apartment.

INT. SEBASTIAN'S APARTMENT -NIGHT

Sebastian flicks on the light revealing the high

walls, elegant moulding and strange contents.

A three foot high Kaiser Wilhelm figure and a teddy

bear dressed as Napoleon march into view from a

doorway. An alarm sounds.

SEBASTIAN:

Yoo hoo, home again, home again!

BEAR:

Good evening J.F.

The alarm cuts out.

The Bear and Kasier Wilhelm stare woodenly at Pris

for a moment, then turn away disappearing into the gloom.

SEBASTIAN:

They're my friends... here,

can I take your things, they're soaked.

BEAR:

(muttering)

Home again, home again, jiggidy jig.

Pris is delighted. She strips off her topcoat,

revealing a shape to pop eyes.

SEBASTIAN:

(besides himself)

Where are your folks ?

PRIS:

I'm sort of an orphan.

Pris smiles.

SEBASTIAN:

What about friends?

PRIS:

I have some, but I have to find them....

I'll let them know where I am tomorrow.

SEBASTIAN:

Oh!

There is a silence. He steals a glance at her.

SEBASTIAN:

Well..... I can sleep on the couch.

PRIS:

Watch the bed bugs don't bite !

INT. DECKARD'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

A blurry photograph, unclear, FILLS THE SCREEN.

The photograph intensified. The foreground BLURS AND

SHARPENS. it's the "man" in Leon's room with the

wardrobe behind him. The head is turned away and

downward, the face unreadable.

Another change! A dramatic one. The picture is

suddenly three dimensional.

Now we see that Deckard is studying the picture in a

viewer controlling the effects with punch controls.

The ashtray next to him is full of butts. The bottle

of vodka is nearly empty.

He sucks on his cigarette and empties the vodka bottle

into his glass and goes back to peering into the

viewer.

He punches up.

A transparent grid with vectors is superimposed over

the photo.

Deckard's eyes move over it carefully.

DECKARD:

Sharpen line forty-eight between

twenty point twenty-seven.

The edge of the man sharpens.

DECKARD:

Profile trace.

Slowly the view tracks the periphery of the man's

shoulder, up and around the skull, down the other

side and as it approaches the bottom of the picture

passes a miniscule sparkle...

DECKARD:

Stop. Back up.

The line is retraced.

DECKARD:

Stop.

The faintest little sparkle. Static. Almost nothing.

Deckard leans forward.

DECKARD:

Enhance.

The view squeezes in. The "spark" seems to be coming

from about fifteen feet behind the figure -- from

within the wardrobe.

DECKARD:

Seesaw.

After a short pause, as if the command causes the

machine to strain, it emits a thin, high-pitched

FREQUENCY SOUND and the picture begins a horizontal

yawing motion. As it swings back and forth glimpses

of things previously obscured by the foreground

figure are revealed. Slightly at first, but the

opening grows as the process picks up momentum.

Deckard's right down there, hands on his knees like

a man watching his favorite team make a crucial play.

DECKARD:

Stop!

The picture freezes.

DECKARD:

Enhance.

The view pushes in to the wardrobe. In its gloomy

recesses hangs a dress.

DECKARD:

Enhance.

In closer on the dress. An exotic shimmering gown

made of sequins. Deckard ponders it, smiles slightly.

DECKARD:

I don't suppose one of those males

has a transvestite problem.

Pause.

DECKARD:

Hey!

Esper wakes up.

ESPER:

Yes?

DECKARD:

I said, I don't suppose one of

those males has a transvestite

problem.

Pause.

ESPER:

Negative.

Deckard considers the situation for a few moments,

then frowns thoughtfully and fishes his wallet out of

his pocket. He produces the flakes he found in the

hotel room.

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