Blood Simple

LANDSCAPES:

An opening voice-over plays against dissolving Texas

landscapes--broad, bare, and lifeless.

VOICE-OVER

The world is full of complainers.

But the fact is, nothing comes with

a guarantee. I don't care if you're

the Pope of Rome, President of the

United States, or even Man of the

Year--something can always go wrong.

And go ahead, complain, tell your

problems to your neighbor, ask for

help--watch him fly. Now in Russia,

they got it mapped out so that

everyone pulls for everyone else--

that's the theory, anyway. But what

I know about is Texas...

CUT TO:

ROAD NIGHT:

We are rushing down a rain-swept country road, listening to

the rhythmic swish of tires on wet asphalt.

VOICE-OVER

And down here... you're on your own.

INT. CAR NIGHT

We are looking at the backs of two people in the front seat--

a man, driving, and a woman next to him.

Their conversation will be punctuated by the occasional glare

of oncoming headlights and the roar of the car rushing by.

The windshield wipers wave a soporific beat. The conversation

is halting, awkward.

WOMAN:

...He gave me a little pearl-handled

.38 for out first anniversary.

MAN:

Uh-huh.

WOMAN:

...Figured I'd better leave before I

used it on him. I don't know how you

can stand him.

MAN:

Well, I'm only an employee, I ain't

married to him.

WOMAN:

Yeah...

Pause, as an oncoming car passes. Finally:

WOMAN:

...I don't know. Sometimes I think

there's something wrong with him.

Like maybe he's sick? Mentally?...

Or is it maybe me, do you think?

MAN:

Listen, I ain't a marriage counselor.

I don't know what goes on, I don't

wanna know... But I like you. I always

liked you...

Another car passes.

MAN:

...What're you gonna do in Houston?

WOMAN:

I'll figure something out... How

come you offered to drive me in this

mess?

MAN:

I told you. I like you.

WOMAN:

See, I never knew that.

MAN:

Well now you do.

WOMAN:

...Hell.

Another pause. Another car.

Suddenly:

WOMAN:

Stop the car, Ray!

CLOSE SHOT BRAKE

Stamped on.

EXT. CAR

Low three-quarters on the car as it squeals to a halt.

A car that has been following screeches to a halt just behind

it.

Both cars sit.

Rain patters.

INT. FIRST CAR

Close on the man, from behind.

He looks at the woman.

MAN:

...Abby?

She doesn't answer. He turns to look back and we see his

face, for the first time, in the headlights of the car behind.

HIS POV:

The car behind them waiting, patiently. Rain drifts down

past its headlights.

Finally it pulls out and passes them slowly, their headlights

showing it to be a battered green Volkswagon. First the car

itself, then its red taillights, disappear into the rain.

BACK TO THE MAN:

Cutting between him and the woman, each from behind.

MAN:

...You know that car?

WOMAN:

No.

MAN:

What's the matter?

WOMAN:

I don't know... I just think maybe

I'm making a mistake...

She looks at the man.

WOMAN:

...What was that back there?

MAN:

Back where?

WOMAN:

Sign.

MAN:

I don't know. Motel... Abby--

WOMAN:

Ray. Did you mean that, what you

said before, or were you just being

a gentleman?

MAN:

Abby, I like you, but it's no point

starting anything now.

WOMAN:

Yeah.

MAN:

I mean, I ain't a marriage counselor--

WOMAN:

Yeah.

The man is uncomfortable.

MAN:

...What do you want to do?

The woman is uncomfortable. After a long pause:

WOMAN:

...What do you want to do?

MOTEL ROOM:

Pulling back from RAY and ABBY in bed, making love.

The only light is from cars passing along the highway outside.

Each sweeping light-by ends in black.

The pullback ends in a wide shot of the motel room. The black

following the last car lingers.

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