Gattaca Page #3

LAMAR:

(staring admiringly at the discharge)

Jerome...never shy. Pisses on command.

You've got a beautiful cock. I ever told

you that, Jerome?

JEROME:

(deadpan as he continues to urinate)

Only every time I'm in here.

Jerome hands the container to Lamara who seals and label it as

Jerome refastens his trousers.

LAMAR:

I see a lot of c*cks. I speak from experience.

Yours is a beautiful example. Why didn't my

folks order a cock like that for me?

LAMAR pours the urine sample into a high-tech device where it

is instantly analyzed. The urine identifies Jerone while also

registering a negative drug reading. The computer reads

"VALID".

LAMAR:

(walking Jerome to the door)

If everything goes to plan, this could be the

last time I see you for a while. One week to

go. Please tell me you're the least bit excited.

JEROME:

I'll tell you at the end of the week.

Jerome departs.

INT. GATTACA - RESTROOM. DAY.

JEROME enters the restroom and glances at the toilet stalls.

Only three in the bank of twenty is occupied. He tarries at the

mirror above the uniform line of basins, unnecessarily

reknotting his tie.

A toilet flushes and a COLLEAGUE exits one of the stalls. He

and Jerome exchange a nod. When the man has exited the restroom,

Jerome enters the man's vacated stall.

INT. GATTACA - TOILET STALL. DAY.

JEROME immediately feels around the back of the toilet bowl and

detaches a secreted stainless steel container.

With surprising swiftness and dexterity, Jerome removes an

extremely fine contact lens from each eye and drops the pair

into the toilet bowl. He inserts two replacement lenses from

the container and reattaches it in its hiding place.

Jerome flushes the toilet and exits the stall. He checks in the

mirror that his new contact lenses are properly inserted.

INT. GATTACA - CORRIDOR. DAY.

Walking back along one of the long, glass-walled corridors,

JEROME becomes aware of a peculiar noise in the complex -

or to be more precise, a lack of noise. The incessant tapping

of computer keys has stilled.

As Jerome gazes through the glass walled corridor, we see the

reflection of his face, deep in thought.

JEROME (VO)

The most unremarkable of events. Jerome

Morrow, Navigator First class, is only days

away from a one-year manned mission to 951

Gaspra in the Outer Asteroid Belt. Nothing so

unique in that. Last year over one thousand

citizens from every walk of life embarked on

some space mission or other. Besides,

selection for Jerome was virtually guaranteed

at birth. He is blessed with all the physical

and intellectual gifts required for such an

arduous undertaking, a genetic quotient second

to none.

Jerome's gaze drifts to the sky.

JEROME (VO)

No, there is truly nothing remarkable about

the progress of Jerome Morrow, except that I

am not Jerome Morrow.

EXT. BEACH. DUSK - THIRTY-ODD YEARS EARILER

A starry sky. The camera tilts down to find palm trees

swaying against a setting sun.

JEROME (VO)

I was conceived in the Riviera. Not the

French Riviera.

The camera tilts down further to find a Buick Riviera parked in

a deserted beachfront parking lot on a polluted stretch of

beach.

JEROME (VO)

The Detroit variety.

Through the car's steamed windows we see Jerome's mother and

father, MARIA and ANTONIO, early twenties, making love.

JEROME (VO)

They used to say that a child conceived in love,

has a greater chance of happiness. They don't

say that any more.

INT. FAMILY PLANNING CLINIC. DAY.

MARIA, wearing a medical gown, lies on an examining table, feet

in stirrups. A NURSE, forties, wheels an instrument tray

towards her. Maria suddenly disengages her feet from the

stirrups and swings her legs off the table.

NURSE:

What are you doing?

MARIA:

(shaking her head)

I can't do this.

NURSE:

(misinterpreting the problem)

I told you, the government pays. It's all

taken care of.

MARIA:

No, you don't understand. I can't.

The nurse places a comforting hand on Maria's shoulder.

NURSE:

(reassuring)

The doctor will give you something.

MARIA:

(removing the hand, adamant)

I'm not doing it.

NURSE:

(trying to make her see reason)

Honey, you've made one mistake--

The remark stings Maria.

NURSE:

(softening her tone)

--I've read your profile. I don't

know about the father but you carry

enough hereditary factors on your own.

(pause)

You can have other children.

MARIA:

(holding her swollen stomach protectively)

Not like this one.

NURSE:

(trying to be diplomatic)

Honey, look around you. The world doesn't

want one like that one.

Maria gets off the table and reaches for her clothes laying

across a chair.

MARIA:

(irate)

You don't know what it will be!

The nurse watches Maria as she dresses, genuinely bewildered.

NURSE:

(calling out to Maria as she disappears

out of the door)

The child won't thank you!

INT. DELIVERY ROOM. DAY.

We focus on a crucifix dangling on a rosary. Tilting up we find

the rosary clasped between MARIA and ANTONIO's intertwined

hands.

JEROME (VO)

Those were early days--days when a priest

could still persuade someone to put their

faith in God's hands rather than those of

the local geneticist.

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote