Meet John Doe Page #15

ANN:

You're marvelous, Ma. You're just

like Father used to be. Do you

realize a couple of weeks ago we

didn't have enough to eat ourselves?

MOTHER:

Well, yes, I know, dear, but these

people are in such need and we

have plenty now.

ANN:

If you're thinking of that thousand

dollars, forget it. It's practically

gone. We owed everybody in town.

Now, you've just gotta stop giving

all your money away.

Her MOTHER looks up, surprised at her tone.

MRS. MITCHELL

Oh, Ann, dear!

CLOSE-UP:
ANN realizes she has spoken sharply to her MOTHER

and immediately regrets it. Her face softens.

MED. SHOT:
As ANN crosses to her MOTHER—and places an arm

around her shoulder, tenderly.

ANN:

Oh, I'm sorry, Ma. Oh, don't pay

any attention to me. I guess I'm

just upset about all this. Gee

whiz, here I am with a great

opportunity to get somewhere, to

give us security for once in our

lives, and I'm stuck. If I could

put this over, your Mrs. Burke can

have six babies!

MOTHER:

Do you mean the speech you're

writing?

ANN:

Yeah, I don't know. I simply can't

get it to jell! I created somebody

who's gonna give up his life for a

principle, hundreds of thousands

of people are gonna listen to him

over the radio and, unless he says

something that's, well, that's

sensational, it's just no good!

MOTHER:

Well, honey, of course I don't

know what kind of a speech you're

trying to write, but judging from

the samples I've read, I don't

think anybody'll listen.

ANN:

What?

MOTHER:

Darling, there are so many

complaining political speeches.

People are tired of hearing nothing

but doom and despair on the radio.

If you're going to have him say

anything, why don't you let him

say something simple and real,

something with hope in it? If your

father were alive, he'd know what

to say.

ANN:

Oh, yes, Father certainly would.

MOTHER:

Wait a minute . . .

ANN:

Huh?

MRS. MITCHELL crosses to a desk, finds a key and unlocks a

compartment. ANN watches her, curiously.

CLOSE SHOT:
MRS. MITCHELL extracts a diary from the

compartment, which she handles very tenderly.

CAMERA PANS with her as she goes back to ANN.

MOTHER:

That's your father's diary, Ann.

ANN:

Father's . . . I never knew he had

a diary.

MOTHER:

There's enough in it for a hundred

speeches, things people ought to

hear nowadays. You be careful of

it, won't you dear? It's always

helped keep your father alive for

me.

ANN:

(holds MOTHER's

hand to her cheek)

You bet I will, Ma.

Her mother abruptly leaves.

CLOSE-UP:
ANN turns her attention to the diary. As she

opens it, her eyes sparkle expectantly. She becomes

interested in the first thing she sees.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. CORRIDOR OF HOTEL

MED. SHOT:
At door of JOHN's suite. A crowd of people are

around the door trying to crash it. The LUG on guard stands

before the door.

LUG:

Wait a minute. John Doe don't wanta

sign no autographs.

INQUIRER:

Well, what does he do all day?

LUG:

What does he do all day? He's

writin' out his memories!

CUT TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM

MED. SHOT:
BEANY is on the telephone. He is apparently

weary from answering them all day.

BEANY:

Sorry, lady. you can't see Mr.

Doe. He wants to be alone. No, no,

he just sits around all day and

commutes with himself.

CAMERA SWINGS around to JOHN. He stands in the middle of

the floor, his pitcher's glove on, playing an imaginary

game of ball. He winds up and throws an imaginary ball.

CLOSE-UP:
Of the COLONEL. He wears a catcher's mitt—and

smacks it as if he just caught the ball.

BEANY:

(umpiring)

Ba-ll!

COLONEL:

I don't know how you're gonna stand

it around here till after Christmas.

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