Philomena Page #4

MARTIN:

Erm, I was the BBC’S correspondent

yes, in Moscow and then Washington.

JANE:

I know a woman, you see, and she

had a baby when she was a teenager

and she kept it a secret for fifty

years - we only found out about it

today. And the baby was taken from

her by these nuns and they made her

have it adopted. And she kept it a

secret all this time...

(Beat)

It’s my mother.

MARTIN:

Yes I guessed.

JANE:

Would that be of any interest you

to you - that kind of thing?

MARTIN:

Well, I’m actually quite busy

writing a book at the moment.

JANE:

What about?

MARTIN:

Russian history...

(On her glazed reaction)

-which is actually fascinating. And

what you’re talking about is a

human interest story, which I don’t

really do.

JANE:

Why not?

He sees, at the other end of the kitchen, SALLY MITCHELL,

DAVID and KEITH laughing with some other GUESTS.

MARTIN:

Because human interest tends to be

a euphemism for stories about

vulnerable, weak-minded, ignorant,

people to fill up the pages of

newspapers read by vulnerable, weak-

minded, ignorant people.

(Suddenly realising how

this sounds)

(MORE)

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PHILOMENA - Final Shooting Script 16.

MARTIN (cont'd)

Not that you are and, um, I hope

you find him...

He takes his wine and walks off, taking a swig. JANE looks

totally nonplussed.

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CUT TO:

11A EXT. NOTTING HILL - DAWN 11A

Taking his doctor’s words to heart MARTIN, up with the larks,

jogs along a deserted street in a faded old ‘Spartak Moscow’

football jersey and shorts (from his time there), and brand

new white trainers.

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CUT TO:

12 INT. WESTMINSTER CHURCH - NIGHT 12

A recital. A congregation watches a choir singing John

Taverner’s ‘Mother of God’; music fills the beautiful

interior. MARTIN sits with wife KATE, petite, pretty,

Scottish. Next to her is ROBERT, Martin’s doctor, and his

wife. Whilst everyone else appears to be enjoying the music,

MARTIN is fidgety and distracted, unable to take comfort or

pleasure from it.

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CUT TO:

13 EXT. WESTMINSTER CHURCH - NIGHT 13

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SFX:
the music continues over:

MARTIN is now outside; a thoughtful, profile shot, breath

condensing in the cold air.

13A INT. BEDROOM - MARTIN’S HOUSE - NIGHT 13A

MARTIN sits on the edge of his bed in his boxers and a T-

Shirt. Behind him his wife KATE finishes moisturizing her

hands before taking her dressing gown off and getting into

bed. All the while we stay on MARTIN, wrestling with himself.

KATE gets into bed and sees that MARTIN has become frozen.

MARTIN:

(Finally)

I don’t believe in God. And I don’t

know when I stopped.

A beat, then KATE makes her way over to his side of the bed,

realising that her husband is deeply unhappy. She puts her

arms around him from behind, comforting him.

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PHILOMENA - Final Shooting Script 17.

MARTIN (cont’d)

And I don’t know why it bothers

me... Should I do a human interest

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story?

CUT TO:

14 INT. HARVESTER, ST. ALBANS - DAY 14

CLOSE UP on an overweight mobile phone SALESMAN picking

through some ribs. Amongst other lunch time customers, all of

whom are very probably not interested in Russian history, we

FIND MARTIN standing waiting in the reception area, watching

with faint disgust as the phone SALESMAN licks his fingers.

MARTIN looks out of the entrance doors, his face reflected in

the glass. He looks at his watch, ponders on why he’s here

and not at all sure it’s a good idea. He glances out of the

doors again... and he sees her. PHILOMENA, walking across the

car park towards him, JANE by her side. His ghostly

reflection in the glass is super-imposed over her for a

moment...

Curiosity aroused, he strains to get a good look - but gets

only intermittent glimpses as a couple cars drive past on

their way out of the car park. He notes she’s dressed smartly

-presumably for his benefit - and looks nervous. As she

finally enters the restaurant he smiles and steps forward to

greet her:

MARTIN:

Hello I’m Martin, you must be

Philomena.

PHILOMENA:

Hello Martin.

They shake hands; he notes the crucifix around her neck, she

in turn sneaks a look at him as he greets JANE.

MARTIN:

(To JANE)

Hello again.

He gestures into the restaurant.

MARTIN (cont’d)

Table’s through here...

He starts to lead them towards their table.

MARTIN (cont’d)

(To JANE)

Sorry if I was a little rude the

other night, caught me at a bad

moment...

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PHILOMENA - Final Shooting Script 18.

JANE:

I’m just glad you managed to track

me down. Hope you didn’t mind

meeting here but it’s mum’s

favourite.

MARTIN:

Oh no it’s... nice.

They all sit down.

MARTIN (cont’d)

So how are you Philomena?

PHILOMENA:

I’m all right. I had a new hip last

year Martin, it’s much better than

the bone one I had before and it’s

made of ti-tanium which is metal -

but it doesn’t rust.

MARTIN:

Well if that happened you’d have to

have it oiled like the Tin Man

wouldn’t you.

PHILOMENA:

Oh is that right?

MARTIN:

No no - I mean, like the Wizard of

Oz.

PHILOMENA turns to JANE.

PHILOMENA:

What does he mean?

JANE:

He’s just joking mum.

MARTIN:

It was just a joke. No, actually my

mother has advanced osteoarthritis

in both her knees.

PHILOMENA laughs out loud. JANE realises that Martin is not

now joking - and tries to move the whole thing on.

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JANE:

Shall we get some salad?

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CUT TO:

15 INT. HARVESTER, ST ALBANS - DAY 15

MARTIN and PHILOMENA are at one end of the salad bar, JANE at

the other.

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PHILOMENA - Final Shooting Script 19.

PHILOMENA:

Jane’s the clever one in our

family. She went to university as a

mature student - you know, when

you’re quite old. Where did you go

Martin - Oxbridge I’ll bet.

MARTIN:

Oxford yes.

PHILOMENA:

I could tell you weren’t a duffer.

MARTIN:

(Helping himself to some

salad)

Been a while since I’ve been in a

Harvester.

PHILOMENA:

Do they not have them in London?

MARTIN:

No I tend to go to a little local

place, near where I live.

PHILOMENA:

And where’s that?

MARTIN:

Knightsbridge.

PHILOMENA:

Oh well that’ll be expensive.

She sprinkles some bacon bits and croutons on her salad.

PHILOMENA (cont’d)

I like these little bits of toast

on mine...

(Beat)

And are you married Martin?

MARTIN:

Yes. I am. I have a wife, Kate.

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