Bonnie and Clyde Page #17

stares fascinated as

one of C.W.'s pectoral

muscles contracts and

the wings flutter)

Touch it, honey! Go on!

BLANCHE squeals with amusement. BUCK takes BLANCHE's hand

and places it on the bluebirds.

BLANCHE:

(titillated with delight)

Oh, no, Daddy! No!

Reaction BONNIE. Day--as the file digs into her cuticle on

BLANCHE's squeal. With barely controlled rage:

84.

BONNIE:

What are you all doin'?

INT. MOTEL BEDROOM. GROUP SHOT. FAV. BONNIE. DAY.

C.W.

(insensitive to

Bonnie's stare)

Playin' with my tattoo, Bonnie.

BONNIE:

Well, why don't you all go play

with it somewhere else?

New angle. Motel bedroom. Day.

BLANCHE:

What's bothering her?

CLYDE:

(sees something coming)

Not now, Blanche.

BUCK:

(who doesn't want to

be victimized by

Bonnie's temperament)

What's bothering her, Clyde?

BONNIE:

(exploding)

I said go somewhere else!

She picks up the first three objects she can find on the

dresser and hurls them--an ashtray, a Gideon Bible, and a

flower pot--at the little group. The pot goes shattering

into the wall. Everyone ducks.

CLYDE:

(straightening up,

matter-of-fact)

Bonnie's hungry, C.W. I saw a

chicken place a few miles back.

Who all wants to go get some food?

INT. MOTEL BEDROOM. GROUP SHOT. DAY.

BLANCHE:

(rising from her

chair, a little

shaken at Bonnie's outburst)

I sure do. I'm plenty tired of

sittin' around here anyway.

85.

BUCK:

(not making a move to

get up)

You can't drive, honeylove.

C.W.

(reluctantly)

I'll go.

CLYDE makes a face to BONNIE pretending there's something

going on between C.W. and BLANCHE. BONNIE tries to keep

from being amused. C.W. moves out with BLANCHE. BUCK rises

to go next door.

C.W.

What's everybody want?

CLYDE:

Just five chicken dinners, and get

somethin' for dessert.

BUCK:

See if they got peach ice cream.

(he grins and pats

his stomach)

All finally exit, leaving BONNIE and CLYDE alone.

EXT. CAR AND STREET. DUSK.

C.W. and BLANCHE go out. We go with them. They get in the

car and drive off. BUCK enters his cabin.

INT. MOTEL BEDROOM. BONNIE AND CLYDE. DUSK.

CLYDE reaches her, and for a moment both stare with fanatic

intensity at each other, BONNIE trying desperately to keep a

straight face. They are nose to nose, unblinking. CLYDE

gives her a big raspberry, waggling his fingers in his ears

like a kid. She laughs.

BONNIE:

I hate you all.

CLYDE:

I hate y'all, too.

BONNIE:

no, I really hate you.

She turns away from him, wilts onto the bed.

86.

BONNIE:

(eyes brimming)

Oh, baby, I've got the blues so

bad...

CLYDE moves behind her, begins to massage her back. There

is something very delicate about the way he touches her; it

suggests CLYDE's sensitivity to her mood rather than any

degree of physical intimacy.

CLYDE:

Bonnie?...is it your mama, what

your mama said?

BONNIE:

What mama?...she's just an old

woman now...I have no mama...

BONNIE rolls over on her back, stares up at CLYDE, tears

splaying across her face from the move.

BONNIE:

(quietly)

...so funny...I thought when we

first went out, we were really

goin' somewhere...but this is it-we're

just goin', huh?

She has addressed this last directly to CLYDE, but there is

nothing rhetorical about it--it is a real question. CLYDE

doesn't answer for a moment. Then:

CLYDE:

Do you care about where we're goin'?

BONNIE clearly finds this hard to say:

BONNIE:

Not as long as you care about me.

CLYDE:

(quite simply)

Why I love you, sugar.

It's the first time he's said it to her, and BONNIE is

overwhelmed. She wraps her arms around CLYDE's middle, and

snuggles into him, like a child. Neither we nor CLYDE can

see BONNIE's face now, and her voice is muffled by his chest.

BONNIE'S VOICE

--enough to die with me, baby?...

'cause I think that's where we're

goin'...I surely do.

87.

CLYDE is both touched and amused by the plea. He strokes

her head lightly. Really meaning it.

CLYDE:

--wherever.

DISSOLVE:

INT. CAR.

BLANCHE, her tense and agitated self growing increasingly

more so lately, lights a fresh cigarette off the butt of the

one she has been smoking.

C.W.

(conversationally)

You sure smokin' all the time lately.

BLANCHE:

(quick to take

offense, snaps)

So what?

C.W.

Nothin'.

BLANCHE, sick of it all, drops her head in her hand with a

sigh.

BLANCHE:

Oh, God...

C.W. looks at her, finally decides to say something that

occurs to him.

C.W.

Whyn't you go back home to your papa?

BLANCHE:

(it's been her dream)

Oh, if I could! If I could just do

that one thing! Oh, there's no

tellin' why this all happened. I

was a preacher's daughter.

C.W.

When church is your pa affiliated

with?

88.

BLANCHE:

(much more interested

in talking about herself)

Baptist...oh, and he thought the

world of Buck, my daddy did, even

knowing that Buck was serving time

in jail. He forgave him for that

'cause he paid his debt to society.

C.W.

We were Disciples of Christ.

INT. FRIED CHICKEN CAFE.

The camera remains stationary in this scene, in this position.

A lunch counter sweeps down the center of the screen. We

are at one end of the counter. In the f.g., a DEPUTY sits

drinking coffee, absorbed in his cup. In the b.g., at the

other end of the counter, by the Exit door, BLANCHE and C.W.

are being handed their order by the counterman.

BLANCHE:

Hey, C.W., I ain't got my money.

Give me some, will you?

The DEPUTY turns his head and looks over there. C.W. opens

his jacket to reach in his pocket for money. As he opens

his coat, his gun is clearly seen tucked in his pants.

Camera zooms in to tight close-up of gun.

Close shot. DEPUTY--his face tense. Sound of door closing

shut, as C.W. and BLANCHE leave.

DEPUTY:

(to counterman)

Get Sheriff Smoot on the phone.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. PLATTE CITY MOTEL ROOM -NIGHT.

On C.W.'s moonlit chest and face, tattooed bluebirds heaving

and occasionally snoring in the night. Behind him the room

is dimly lit by flickering candles that are placed out of

sight on the floor. The shapes in the room--the bed is

gutted and only the box mattress remains--dresser, lamp

shades, etc., are grotesque in the flickering light. O.s.

sounds of BONNIE and CLYDE, BONNIE giggling and CLYDE

whispering something we can't quite hear.

Move across the room toward the gutted bed. Move giggling

from the floor beneath the box mattress--for a moment it

should appear as if something perversely sexual may be going

on between BONNIE and CLYDE.

89.

BONNIE'S VOICE

Ready?

CLYDE'S VOICE

(a little embarrassed)

Aw Bonnie-

BONNIE'S VOICE

(coaxing)

C'mon!

CLYDE's arm wielding a Tommy gun, clears the bed. With the

muzzle, CLYDE knocks the swivel mirror on the dresser

overhead, bringing BONNIE and CLYDE into view.

Closer angle mirror--BONNIE and CLYDE. Night. BONNIE lies

stiff as a statue on the white mattress, impeccably dressed

for her funeral. Candelabras made of empty beer bottles lie

at her head and feet. BONNIE's hands and face are powdered

and painted a waxen white. She wears a garish silk bow in

her hair which it, for this occasion, curled like a little

girl's.

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