Bridge of Spies Page #3

DONOVAN:

He’s not a traitor, Mary-

The doorbell.

MARY:

Roger get that.

ROGER:

Why do I have to do all the work

around here?

Peggy reaches for a dinner roll.

MARY:

Wait till we say grace!

PEGGY:

I’m hungry!

MARY:

(to Donovan)

He’s about the most unpopular man in

the country -- and you’re trying to

take second place.

CAROL:

Yeah, and I’m third.

DONOVAN:

No, Carol, you just made a date with

the wrong guy.

(to Mary)

Mary, don’t make us disagree if

we’re not disagreeing, you’re

against the guy, I’m for him?

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 14.

CONTINUED:
(3)

DONOVAN (CONT'D)

Huh-uh. I’m not for the guy, I’m

not for Russians spying on us. I’m

for his right to have a defense in a

court of law. That’s why we call it

a court of law...

Roger walks back in leading Doug Forrester who is carrying a

stack of books.

Carol stiffens.

DOUG:

Hello, sir, sorry -- didn’t mean to

interrupt your dinner.

DONOVAN:

(still focused on Mary)

A court of law and not a...not a...

Hey, Doug. And not a kangaroo

court.

MARY:

(to Doug)

Oh not at all, hello Doug -- Jim was

just flailing.

DONOVAN:

I’m not flailing...go ahead, Doug,

you can join us for dinner, we’re

having meat loaf tonight.

MARY:

(ignoring Donovan, eying

Doug’s books)

So you came over to help Jim think

about whether he’s taking the case.

Doug, deaf to the irony, is innocently enthusiastic:

DOUG:

Oh, we’re taking it! It’s exciting,

isn’t it?

Mary stares daggers at Donovan. Doug realizes he’s stepped

in it. Donovan, abashed, starts saying grace, extends his

hand to Mary, who doesn’t hold it so much as slap it...

BROOKLYN COURTHOUSE

Abel is led by a guard into a detention room where Donovan

awaits.

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 15.

DETENTION ROOM:

DONOVAN:

Good morning, sir. My name is Jim

Donovan. These are my credentials -

Both men stand looking at each other, Abel still at the

threshold.

After a beat he moves in further, his gaze holding on Donovan

who glances at papers on table

DONOVAN (CONT’D)

I’m a partner at Watters, Cowan and

Donovan. I was admitted to the New

York Bar in 1941.

As the guard slams the door shut, Abel picks up the papers

and inspects them. Donovan watches him, trying to read him.

DONOVAN (CONT’D)

...You’ve been charged with three

counts and nineteen overt acts;

conspiracy to transmit United States

defense and atomic secrets to the

Soviet Union; conspiracy to gather

secrets; and failing to register as

a foreign agent.

ABEL:

Do many foreign agents register?

Only now does Abel look up from the credentials up to

Donovan. Donovan takes a moment, not sure if he’s being

kidded. He takes a seat at the table.

DONOVAN:

If you don’t mind my asking, sir,

since your arrest: where have you

been?

ABEL:

I couldn’t say for certain.

DONOVAN:

You don’t know.

Abel takes a seat.

ABEL:

They drove me to an airport, put me

on a plane. They took me off the

plane. Somewhere hot.

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 16.

CONTINUED:

DONOVAN:

It’s hot here.

ABEL:

Hotter. Very humid. They put me in

a room.

Abel attends to his runny nose with a handkerchief.

DONOVAN:

Were you beaten?

ABEL:

No. I was...talked to. Offers were

made.

DONOVAN:

What do you mean?

ABEL:

Offers of employment. To work for

your government. I was told if I

cooperated no further charges would

be made against me, and I would be

given money.

DONOVAN:

And you declined.

ABEL:

As you see.

DONOVAN:

Well of course, I can’t endorse

that. I feel duty bound to urge you

to cooperate with the U.S.

Government.

ABEL:

Well, I said no. Perhaps you could

relay to your friends at the CIA

that I meant it.

DONOVAN:

No no, I don’t work for the agency.

I don’t work for the government.

I’m here to offer my services as

your legal counsel. If you accept

them as such, I work for you.

ABEL:

If I accept you? Are you good at

what you do?

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 17.

CONTINUED:
(2)

DONOVAN:

Yeah, I’m pretty good.

ABEL:

Have you represented many accused

spies?

DONOVAN:

No. Not yet. This will be a first

for the both of us.

Abel chuckles, looks again at Donovan’s credentials.

ABEL:

All right.

DONOVAN:

All right you accept?

ABEL:

Yes, all right.

DONOVAN:

Good, okay, let’s start here. If

you are firm in your resolve not to

cooperate with the U.S. government -

ABEL:

I am.

DONOVAN:

Yeah, then do not talk to anyone

else about your case. Inside of

government or out. Except to me --

to the extent that you trust me. I

have a mandate to serve you. Nobody

else does. Quite frankly, everybody

else has an interest in sending you

to the electric chair.

ABEL:

All right.

DONOVAN:

You don’t seem alarmed.

Abel shrugs.

ABEL:

Would it help?

Abel watches Donovan for another moment. Amused. Pulls out

a pad of paper and starts writing.

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 18.

CONTINUED:
(3)

ABEL (CONT’D)

I’d like materials. To draw with.

DONOVAN:

That’s not possible.

ABEL:

A pencil. A piece of paper. And

cigarettes. Please.

The show of manners surprises Donovan. Abel watches him.

ABEL (CONT’D)

Mr. Donovan, you have men like me

doing the same for your country. If

they were caught, I’m sure you’d

wish them to be treated well.

MOTEL:

A cheap room with the curtains drawn.

An athletic-looking man in uniform is seated on a chair.

VOICE:

What’s your name?

MAN:

Francis Gary Powers.

Wider:
he is strapped to a lie detector.

INTERROGATOR:

Rank, service.

POWERS:

First Lieutenant. United States Air

Force.

INTERROGATOR:

Do you have any association with the

Soviet Union, Lieutenant Powers?

POWERS:

Are you kiddin?

INTERROGATOR:

Just answer the questions,

Lieutenant, yes/no or as simply as

you can. Do you have any

association with the Soviet Union?

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 19.

CONTINUED:

POWERS:

Hell no.

INTERROGATOR:

Do you know why you’re here?

POWERS:

Uh-uh.

INTERROGATOR:

Is that a no?

POWERS:

Yes. I mean no. It’s just no.

(turning to the interrogator)

Yes, I have absolutely no idea why

I’m here.

INTERROGATOR:

Eyes front, Lieutenant.

Powers turns back.

POWERS:

Yes sir.

EXTERIOR MOTEL:

We are wide looking at the fluorescent-lit arcade of rooms of

a motel with a cheap neon sign. Night crickets. The door of

one room opens and Powers and an escort emerge: Powers is led

down the row of doors to another, and he is shown in.

NEW ROOM:

Three other pilots are inside, smoking, playing cards,

waiting.

MURPHY:

How’d ya do in there, Gary?

POWERS:

Pretty good. Think I got my name

right.

MURPHY:

Probably outscored Shinn, then.

Powers sits.

POWERS:

Who’s winnin’?

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 20.

CONTINUED:

Rate this script:3.0 / 2 votes