Freejack

Synopsis: Auto racer Alex Furlong is snatched by time travel, a split second before a fatal explosion, by Vasendak's 21st-century team of techies, who plan to sell his healthy body to an ailing rich man at McCandless Corporation, for a mind transfer. He escapes, but has no rights in this nightmare future of violence and sleaze. The story concerns his survival, and his attempt to revive his relationship with his fiancée Julie, now 15 years older and an executive at McCandless.
Genre: Action, Crime, Sci-Fi
Director(s): Geoff Murphy
Production: Warner Home Video
  3 nominations.
 
IMDB:
5.3
Rotten Tomatoes:
20%
R
Year:
1992
110 min
211 Views


Okay, okay, I get the point.

Of course you get the point.

Look. You got five hours.

Five hours. . .

. . .till the big race.

Get up. Get up.

Come on, sleepy. Get up.

I can't believe you're still asleep.

I'm more excited than you.

Okay, look.

What will the other drivers'

wives wear?

''Wives''? Did I hear ''wives''?

I said wives. I got ahead of myself.

You said wives.

-It was a slip of the tongue.

-I lI ke that slip.

I lI ke that tongue too.

Alex, aren't you a little bit nervous?

No. I've seen it in advance.

Checkered flag.

Honeymoon in the Bahamas.

Listen, let's just take

one ''zoom'' at a time.

I'll win that race, honey.

No one can stop me.

Gentlemen, don't touch a thing.

It's hot.

You're hot!

-Rock 'n' roll driving.

-It feels good.

If you'd hit the brakes sooner,

that wouldn't have happened.

You drive your typewriter,

I'll drive my car.

Alex, it's a computer.

You are such an a**hole. Computer!

Sorry.

I'll be all right.

God, I hope so, Alex.

Just do one thing.

Nibble my ear.

For luck.

Alex, this is a public place.

-I won't race unless you do it.

-You are nuts!

You're serious?

I love you.

-Are you happy?

-Delirious.

Come here, pal.

-I want you to meet some guys.

-I thought we had a deal.

You drive and I jive.

Any future planning must

include a little ass-kissing.

So pucker up, buttercup.

Did I oversell this kid, gentlemen?

I think not.

Not just the hottest

rookie on the circuit. . .

. . .he's photogenic, telegenic,

drug-free. . .

. . .and he's good to his mom.

Is that a face that'll sell motor oil,

or what?

Speaks English too. Say a few words

to the nice people.

Hello, son.

Champion Spark Plugs.

Nice to meet you, Mr. Plugs.

Will you excuse us?

Jimmy Connors' attitude.

All unauthorized personnel are warned

to stay clear of this area.

Okay, let's do it.

Back it up.

More.

Thanks.

More. Hold it there.

Go in.

More.

That's it.

Encoder's locked.

Power it up.

He's good.

Medical units, stand by.

Go! Go! Go!

Twenty seconds.

Fifteen.

Ten.

Five...

. . .four. . .

... three... two...

...one.

We got him. Let's go.

Take off the helmet

and open the suit!

Clear!

What the--?!

We're moving out.

What the hell's going on?!

There's 7 million bucks

worth of merchandise.

We won't stop till

we hit security.

Clear!

Oxygen!

I wouldn't dance to it,

but that's a pulse.

He'll survive. Good job, people.

Sedate him and wrap him up.

Contact, 200 meters.

This area should be clear.

I guess I didn't win, huh?

He still has brain function.

Clamp him. Get the lobotomizer.

Imagine the sh*t we'd get if

we delivered him lI ke this?

Forty megawatts to

the frontal lobe.

-That'll burn him clean.

-Should quiet him too.

What kind of hospital is this?

What the hell?

What kind of hospital is this?!

Weapons, high left.

Take them out.

In position.

Hit them!

Get the meat.

Stunners only.

I don 't want him damaged.

Yo! Taxi!

Warren Street.

I'm driving here alone

and I'm thinking:

Get fare first.

Antique watch.

Here. Take it.

Just get out of here!

This neighborhood not good.

Very competitive,

and difficult to sleep.

-Where are we?

-Where we are?

My fare is flying.

Bonejackers!

I kill you!

Hello! What the hell is this?!

Get out of here! Vamoose! Beat it!

Jose, it's Alex Furlong.

Open the door!

Is Julie upstairs?

I got to see her.

Come on, Julie.

Julie, open up! It's me, Alex!

Where's Julie?

-Who?

-Julie.

Julie Redlund! Who are you?

I live here. Who are you?

How did you get in here?

What's going on?

Who are you people?

What are you doing here?

-Why are you here?

-Looking for Julie.

Goddamn it, where is she?!

Get out of my face!

Charles, wait! Julie Redlund?

We bought this place

from her years ago.

That's impossible.

I was with her here this morning.

-Oh, my God. He's a Freejack!

-A what?

We can't help you. Nobody can.

Get away, or I'll call Central.

Now move!

Move!

There is a Freejack at large

in the area.

If you see him,

report it immediately.

A reward is posted for his capture.

Penalties for harboring a Freejack

are extreme.

I hate being the messenger.

I've a feeling

the client's gonna be pissed.

Oh, you do?

How'd you lI ke to be

dead for a day and a half. . .

. . .and someone brought

you more bad news?

Patience is hard to advocate with

the delay delivering your new body.

But all of my people assure me

of a rapid recapture.

You failed!

Sir, if I could point out. . .

. . .the Spiritual Switchboard can only

hold you for another 36 hours.

You should consider

an alternative body.

I don't want an alternative body.

I want this one.

You are slipping, Victor.

You're contracted to deliver Furlong.

I see you, but I do not see him.

Beautiful.

Faberg.

No more excuses. Mac Corp. Security

will handle this from now on.

Before the revolution.

There was no delivery,

there will be no payment.

Now, get out of my sight.

Mr. Vacendak is leaving now.

He is no longer on this case.

Let me tell you something.

I said I'd deliver Furlong

and that's what I'll do.

Make any arrangements you lI ke.

But keep your people out of my way.

Why, Victor.

Who do you think you're talking to?

I know who I'm talking to, Mark.

An a**hole.

Get out!

If you're a praying man, I'd start.

Sister--

Don't ''Sister'' me!

Get the hell up.

What are you and why are you here?

I don't know what I am. . .

. . .or where.

Maybe I died.

What did they call me?

Pathetic?

A Freejack.

Holy sh*t!

Got him. His image is

in the Central Data Bank.

If he even walks past a vid-phone,

he's ours.

Retrieval costs 1 7 million.

Think his body's worth it?

I'd sell him yours for half that.

Someone would.

Few people knew the timing

of the retrieval convoy.

I know anyone indulging

in commerce on the side?

I don't, but it's worth checking.

It sure is.

Step up.

Come on, Victor.

I never have nor will. . .

. . .divulge information outside

of this organization.

Frankly, I'm surprised you'd

even test me.

I'm not testing you.

I'm testing the machine.

It works.

Have the others tested.

Some rich son of a b*tch dies. . .

. . .they save his mind

in a computer. . .

. . .they call

the Spiritual Switchboard.

There is nothing spiritual about that.

Sometimes I wonder if the good Lord

has forsaken us all. . .

. . .to be letting this kind

of sh*t go on.

Then they transfer his mind. . .

. . .to your body.

That's his ticket to immortality.

A brain transplant?

A mind transplant.

Electronically, your mind will be

utterly annihilated.

Sorry, she's not here.

Julie Redlund.

-Nothing?

-No listing.

Maybe she moved out of town.

She may have married, have a new name.

She could be dead.

Brad Carter. Try that one.

He's in Sector 7.

You probably knew it as Park Slope.

If you think this neighborhood is

dangerous. . .

. . .you have a surprise coming.

Now, they're probably looking for you

by now, so you must go. Now.

This place is not safe for you,

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Steven Pressfield

Steven Pressfield (born September 1943) is an American author of historical fiction, non-fiction, and screenplays. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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