Philomena Page #16

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CUT TO:

72 INT. BREAKFAST AREA, WASHINGTON DC HOTEL - DAY 72

MARTIN is studying his laptop. He sees a new e-mail in his

inbox from ‘Owsianoska, Caroline’, entitled ‘Anthony Lee’. He

opens it and clicks on a link. As he waits for it to download

he sees PHILOMENA back at the omelette station, and catches a

snippet of her renewed conversation with the CHEF.

PHILOMENA:

-were you born in Mexico? Well you

must like nachos? My grand daughter

Natalie got me into them. I’ve

never been to Mexico - I hear it’s

lovely apart from the kidnappings-

Shaking his head in exasperation, he turns back to the screen

where an image downloads line by line from the top of the

screen. We make out a blurry newspaper photo of a little boy

and girl, holding hands with a smart, middle-aged couple

posing at an airport arrivals lounge. MARTIN hears PHILOMENA

share a laugh with the CHEF and is about to look over to them

when the image reveals the boy is holding a tin toy aeroplane

in his hand. Stunned, he recognizes it instantly. He has

found Anthony. The headline above the cutting reads: ‘New

Life For Irish Orphans’.

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PHILOMENA - Final Shooting Script 71.

Excited, he scans the article, picks up the surname Hess then

finds the boy’s Christian name: Michael.

He puts ‘Michael Hess, D.O.B. 07.05.52’ into a search engine,

waits a few moments, then clicks on a site - the official

site of the Republican Party. There is a picture of the adult

Michael, early 30s, smiling, in a formal head and shoulders

pose. But it’s the passage at the top of the page which jolts

him:
Michael A. Hess: (b) 07.05.52 - (d) 08.15.95. He stares

at the legend (d). Surely not..?

Scarcely able to believe it, he scans the article below the

picture, picks out some key sentences: ‘Michael was brought

to the US from Ireland by his adoptive parents...’ and then,

at the end:
‘... Michael died on August 15th, 1995.’

See MARTIN:
Oh God, he’s dead...

MARTIN looks up to see PHILOMENA making her way back to the

table with her omelette and a bowl of raspberries. In a panic

he quickly shuts down the window showing the young Anthony

clutching the aeroplane.

PHILOMENA (cont’d)

They’ve run out of blueberries so I

got you raspberries instead.

MARTIN just stares at her, frozen expression. She

misinterprets this as an admonishment.

PHILOMENA (cont’d)

Oh, I’m sorry. Quiet time.

As PHILOMENA puts down her tray she glances at the screen,

now just displaying the image of the adult Michael in the

formal pose. She stares at it and, even though she can’t know

what Anthony would look like as a grown man, puts her hand to

her chest.

PHILOMENA (cont’d)

That’s my Anthony.

She looks at MARTIN, who doesn’t answer. But his eyes not

only confirm this they tell her something else... she

clutches her crucifix.

PHILOMENA (cont’d)

He’s dead... isn’t he.

MARTIN:

(A beat then he whispers,

choked)

Yes.

(Beat)

I’m sorry.

A WAITRESS hovers holding a coffee pot.

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PHILOMENA - Final Shooting Script 72.

WAIRTESS:

Coffee?

There’s no answer; the WAITRESS hovers, obviously unaware of

what is happening.

WAITRESS:

Coffee?

PHILOMENA:

(Anguished)

He doesn’t want coffee he wants

blueberries!

PHILOMENA starts to cry.

MARTIN:

(To the WAITRESS)

Thank you, we don’t need anything.

MARTIN tries to comfort PHILOMENA, putting his arms round her

awkwardly, self-consciously, speaking quietly to her.

MARTIN (cont’d)

I’m so sorry...

She readily accepts the comfort.

SCORE:
Music by BACH...

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CUT TO:

73 EXT. WASHINGTON 7TH STREET - NIGHT 73

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BACH CONTINUES over...

We see PHILOMENA in the back of a taxi on the way to the

airport, the lights of the city playing on her window. She is

numb, disengaged from all that’s going on around her. The

taxi stops at some traffic lights.

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CUT TO:

74 INT. TAXI - WASHINGTON - NIGHT 74

BACH CONTINUES, building to a swell...

PHILOMENA stares out at the PEOPLE in the street; she can’t

understand how life is going on when Anthony is gone. She

sees a YOUNG WOMAN picked up by her BOYFRIEND and swung round

playfully as he gives her a kiss. He then pretends lifting

her has hurt his back; she laughs.

MARTIN looks across to PHILOMENA, not knowing what to say.

The lights change, the taxi pulls away.

CUT TO:

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PHILOMENA - Final Shooting Script 73.

75 INT. DEPARTURES TERMINAL, DULLES AIRPORT - NIGHT 75

PHILOMENA sits by herself on a row of chairs in the airportlounge, this ‘cathedral’ to modern life. We see her inprofile, staring inscrutably at something. She seems suddenlyold, bird like. Now we REVEAL what she’s looking at: a pieceof iconography - a huge Calvin Klein poster in portraitaspect of a beautiful female model laughing in a casualembrace with a devastatingly handsome, be-stubbled male

model. She wears a negligee, he wears a vest. They haveperfect teeth. Perfect lives. They are shamelessly happy.

SCORE ENDS. *

CUT TO:

76 INT. DEPARTURES TERMINAL, DULLES AIRPORT - NIGHT 76 *

PHILOMENA sits with MA *

SALLY (CONT’D) (cont’d)

What did he die of?

MARTIN:

I don’t know, I didn’t find out.

We’re at the airport now.

SALLY:

(Interrupts him)

Wait - you’re at the airport?

MARTIN:

Yeh. Obviously she wants to get

back home, be with her daughter.

SALLY:

What about the story?

MARTIN:

(Confused)

Well... he’s dead.

SALLY shakes her head curtly at the SUB EDITOR - she doesn’tlike his layout.

SALLY:

Dead or alive, happy or sad - you

said it - they’re both good. Spin

it, find a story..

MARTIN:

Yeh, but if I stay here and shegoes, no-one’s going to answer my

questions.

SALLY:

Then keep her there.

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PHILOMENA - Final Shooting Script 74.

MARTIN:

What? Come on... she’s in bits.

It’s like she’s lost him all over

again.

SALLY:

That’s great - write that line

down.

MARTIN:

Are you serious?

SALLY:

Yes, you signed a contract. Call me

when you’ve got something.

She hangs up. MARTIN looks at PHILOMENA, sitting quietly,

looking up at the poster. He feels a wave of terrible guilt.

CUT TO:

MARTIN sits down next to PHILOMENA. A few moment’s silence as

they both look up at the poster together; PHILOMENA stares at

the female model, laughing, carefree.

PHILOMENA:

I remember that day at the fair,

his father made me laugh by

pretending to be an old man.

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