Broadcast News

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FADE IN:

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY

A restaurant supply truck is curbside, near a small

restaurant. GERALD GRUNICK, forty-one, is closing the back

door of his truck, feeling good about the world, a common

state for him. He moves towards the cab of the truck and gets

inside as we SUPER:

KANSAS CITY, MO. - 1963

INT. TRUCK - DAY

As he sits down beaming over his recent good fortune... now we

REVEAL his twelve-year-old son, TOM, seated quietly beside him.

He seems a bit down. Gerald glances at his son.

GERALD:

I don't know a recent Saturday I've

sold more. You didn't think I'd

sell that health restaurant, did you?

TOM:

No. Not even you.

GERALD:

Why so glum?

TOM:

I don't know.

GERALD:

(a beat)

Go ahead.

TOM:

No, nothing. I've got a problem,

I guess.

GERALD:

Were you bothering by those

waitresses making a fuss?

TOM:

No. But, honest. What are you

supposed to say when they keep

talking about your looks? I don't

even know what they mean -- "Beat

them off with a stick."

Gerald stiffs a grin.

GERALD:

You know, Tom, I feel a little

proud when people comment on your

looks. Maybe you should feel that

way.

TOM:

Proud? I'm just embarrassed that

I like when they say those things.

GERALD:

As long as that's your only problem

you're...

TOM:

It's not.

He looks directly at his father and talks quietly, and sincerely.

TOM:

I got my report card. Three Cs,

two Ds and an incomplete.

GERALD:

Oh my. I see you studying so hard,

Tom. What do you think the problem is?

TOM:

I'll just have to try harder. I don't

know. I will.

(talking himself

into it)

I will. I will. I will.

He shakes his head for emphasis, glad he's received this pep

talk from himself -- he hands the card to his father.

TOM:

Thanks, Dad, this talk helped. Will

you sign it, please?

GERALD:

(as he signs)

Would it help if I got you a tutor?

TOM:

(suddenly hopeful)

That would be great.

(worried)

It better help. What can you do with

yourself if all you do is look good?

SUPER THE LEGEND -- "FUTURE NETWORK ANCHORMAN"

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

BOSTON, MASS. - 1965

INT. HIGH SCHOOL - AUDITORIUM - DAY

AARON ALTMAN, looking almost preposterously young in his

graduation gown -- is delivering his valedictory. He is a

rare bread -- a battle-scarred innocent.

AARON:

...and finally to the teachers of

Whitman High School, I don't have the

words to express my gratitude which

may have more to say about the quality

of the English Department here than

my own limitations...

He awaits a laugh and gets only the weird sound of collective

discomfort.

AARON:

...that was, of course, not meant to

be taken seriously. A personal note.

I am frequently asked what the special

difficulties are in being graduated

from High School two months shy of my

fifteenth birthday. I sometimes

think it was the difficulties

themselves which enabled me to do it.

If I'd been appreciated or even tolerated

I wouldn't have been in such a hurry to

graduate. I hope the next student who

comes along and is able to excel isn't

made to feel so much an outcast. But

I'm looking forward to college; this is

the happiest day I've had in a long

time. I thank you and I forgive you.

This is very little applause.

ANGLE ON TEACHERS

MALE TEACHER:

I'm always so confused by Aaron.

Is he brave and earnest or just

a conceited little dick-head?

BACK TO AARON AS WE SUPER: "FUTURE NETWORK NEWS REPORTER"

ANGLE ON STAGE:

As Aaron walks to his seat past three full grown tough looking

semi-literate high school graduates.

YOUTH #1

Later, Aaron.

EXT. SCHOOL YARD - DAY

Clusters of graduates at the fence bordering the sunken school

yard looking down as the tough cap and gowners seen earlier

cuff Aaron around.

CLOSER IN:

Aaron feeling from a blow -- his lip bleeding -- his teeth

covered with blood...as he gets to his feet. He is livid --

something primal triggered by this brutality.

AARON:

Go ahead, Stephen -- take your

last licks.

(points at his

face)

But this will heal -- what I'm

going to say to you will scar you

forever. Ready? Here it is.

He dodges as they come after him. They catch him by the hair

and hurl him to the ground. As he gets up he hurls his

devastating verbal blow.

AARON:

You'll never make more than

nineteen thousand dollars a year.

Ha ha ha.

They twist his arm and grip him -- his face scraped on the

concrete.

AARON:

Okay, take this:
You'll never

leave South Boston and I'm going

to see the whole damn world. You'll

never know the pleasure of writing

a graceful sentence or having an

original thought. Think about it.

He's punched in the stomach and sinks to the ground. As the

Young Toughs walk off Aaron catches a phrase of their

conversation.

YOUTH TOUGH:

Nineteen thousand dollars...

Not bad.

FADE IN:

ATLANTA, GEORGIA - 1968

INT. SUBURBAN HOME - NIGHT

JANE CRAIG, ten years old, is in her room typing. Above the

desk where she works is a bulletin board with letters and

pictures tacked to each one. Her desk has several file racks

which contain bulging but neat stacks of air mail envelopes --

a roll of stamps in a dispenser is to one side. Jane types

very well in the glare of her desk lamp.

JANE:

(voice over; as

she types)

Dear Felatzia, it's truly amazing

to me that we live a world apart

and yet have the same favorite music.

I loved the picture you sent and

have it up on my bulletin board.

You're growing so much faster than

I am that I...

OTHER ANGLE:

SHOWING Jane's FATHER standing near the door.

JANE:

(voice over)

...am starting to get jealous.

I read in the newspapers about

the Italian strike and riots in

Milan. I hope you weren't...

FATHER:

(softly)

Honey?...

Jane SCREAMS, and grabs her heart, breathing heavily, babbles

nervously at her Dad.

JANE:

Oh God -- Daddy -- don't...don't...

don't ever scare me like that --

please.

We SUPER:
"FUTURE NETWORK NEWS PRODUCER"

Her father is himself taken aback with the shock of her reaction.

Falling back towards the door:

FATHER:

Jane -- For God's sake...

(recovering)

Look, it's time for you to go

to sleep.

JANE:

I just have two more pen pals and

then I'm done.

FATHER:

You don't have to finish tonight.

JANE:

(he doesn't get in)

Nooo. This way the rotation stays

the same.

FATHER:

Finish quickly. I don't want you

getting obsessive about these

things. Good night.

We REMAIN WITH Jane who has obviously become disconcerted and

troubled.

INT. HOUSE - NIGHT

As Jane moves to room at the other end of the hall -- a family

room where her Father reads the latest Rolling Stone of the

mid-60's -- Hunter Thompson, the New Journalism, the slim

Jann Wenner -- Jane bursts into the room.

JANE:

Dad, you want me to choose my words

so carefully and then you just throw

a word like 'obsessive' at me. Now,

unless I'm wrong and...

(enunciating)

...please correct me if I am, 'obsession'

is practically a psychiatric term...

concerning people who don't have anything

else but the object of their obsession --

who can't stop and do anything else. Well,

Here I am stopping to tell you this. Okay?

So would you please try and be a little

more precise instead of calling a person

something like 'obsessive.'

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