Point Break Page #8

UTAH:

Keep the change, Teach.

CUT TO:

EXT. BEACH - DAWN

UTAH & TYLER walk across the sand.

Tyler drops her board.

TYLER:

Stop here.

(she turns to him)

Do you agree to do exactly what I

say when I say it?

UTAH:

Sure.

CUT TO:

UTAH pops INTO FRAME, arms extended, one leg in front of

the other, torso bent at the waist: classic surfing

stance.

Suddenly, he drops OUT OF FRAME.

WE PULL BACK -- Revealing Utah on his board, on the sand.

TYLER:

Do it again.

Tyler is making him "pop" up to his feet. Again and

again. GAWKERS stop to watch. Utah fights humiliation.

He pops again. And again. Quick cuts.

On the next pop we--

PULL BACK to reveal Utah on his board, in a wave. He is

surfing.

For about three seconds. He flies off the deck, ass over

teakettle.

On the SPLASH we start--

A SEQUENCE OF TIME CUTS

Tyler and Utah straddle their boards outside the break.

She nods as the set comes, mellow right tubes. Utah digs

in, arms pumping.

He feels the bite as the wave picks up his board and

starts down the wall.

And endos.

CLOUDY PLATINUM DAWN...

Tyler shouting at Utah as he fights for balance.

He flies off again.

BLINDING BRIGHT SUNRISE. TYLER NEXT TO UTAH in the

lineup, straddling boards. She moves her hands like a

fighter pilot explaining a dogfight maneuver. Utah

watches intently.

Utah, backlit in glorious slow motion, tries a little turn

and feels his feet slip out. He slams down butt-first on

the board, flips over, feet sticking straight up out of a

blast of diamond spray.

Tyler cringes, giving a look like it's hopeless.

TYLER AND UTAH, at their cars, skinning out of their

wetsuits. Utah looks exhausted, downcast. She snaps her

wet towel at his ass, cheering him up.

MALIBU PIER. RAIN. Tyler jumps out of her Porsche and

sees Utah sitting in his car. She goes to him, opens the

door and starts pulling him out. Come on you p*ssy.

UTAH and TYLER wait their turn in the lineup. Rain pelts

their faces. The waves are depressing inside mushers

under a gray sky.

Utah starts to paddle. Tyler shakes her head no. Utah is

committed to the I'face. Tyler stifles a laugh.

TYLER:

(to the other

surfers)

I'm not with him.

Johnny gouges the lip, pops and begins the drop.

Suddenly, miraculously, he catches an edge and, still

standing, is carried along the tiny wall.

The wall begins to sag. Utah shoots along the mush

hooting and continues hooting madly as he thrashes all the

way to shore.

He turns and grins foolishly out to sea.

Tyler bursts out laughing.

EXT. MALIBU PIER - DUSK

Big surf. Rough conditions. Closeout set.

UTAH, board in arm, follows Tyler out of the whitewater

onto the beach.

TYLER:

It's closing out completely. Let's

call it.

Utah nods. His eyes track the unruly break.

UTAH:

Who's that?

A LONE SURFER slashing through the pilings of the pier. A

real kamikaze run as the whitewater walls thunder behind

him.

SILHOUETTED against a crimson sky and backlit spray the

figure pumps among the pier pilings in a frenzy of motion

that is somehow balletic.

Laying out bottom turns, torquing his body and blasting

the lip a few times, moving so fast his long dark hair

stands straight back as if he were leaning out a car

window on the freeway.

TYLER (V.O.)

That's Bodhi. They call his the

Bodhisattva.

Utah watches as THE BODHISATTVA gets vertical with a snap,

trims down the volcanic wall, carves the bottom, pivots,

pumps to the top, gouging the lip, getting six feet of

air.

Gawkers HOWL and shout praise at the manic surfer.

TYLER:

The modern savage. Guy's even

crazier than you, Johnny Utah.

C'mon.

They start to walk. The sky darkens as the sea finally

closes out completely. The Bodhisattva seems to levitate

through the shapeless mush to shore.

ROACH (O.S.)

Brah!

Suddenly a football whistles through the air above Utah's

head.

He watches as--

The Bodhisattva, board under arm, walking out of the

whitewater, makes a one-handed chest catch.

A few yards away two teams of SURFERS play football.

Utah gazes down the beach at the Bodhisattva.

Almost 30 years old, his body lean and hard as a tree

trunk. Hardness in the face accented by long Comanche

hair.

BODHI:

Hey Tyler!

She whirls. Bodhi pumps his arm. Tyler jogs back for the

catch. Bullseye. She shoots Bodhi a look. Something

crosses her face.

Bodhi smiles. Tyler doesn't. Then it passes.

She chucks the ball to Utah.

Who drops his board and makes the catch in one move.

He SPINS the football on his fingertip, drops it on his

foot, kicks it up into his hands. Razzle dazzle. He

grins evilly.

EXT. BEACH - NIGHT

Rimmed by a dozen car HEADLIGHTS at the edge of the sand.

Utah crouches, waiting for the snap from NATHANIEL,

ponytailed and powerfully built. Facing them on defense

are Bodhi, Tyler and three others: ROACH, gonzo and

spiked-haired. GROMMET... 17 and thin as a stick, and

ROSIE, a biker with piggy eyes and arms blue with tattoos.

MONTAGE STYLE -- Utah tosses a flurry of mindboggling

passes. Every one picture perfect. Nathaniel scrambles

z-out left, turns and the ball is practically waiting for

him. Touchdowns galore. Endzone dancing. Bodhi stares

at him curiously.

Tyler rushes. Utah enjoys scrambling, ducking left and

right, twisting her into a pretzel. Play after play.

Utah tosses another touchdown, but Tyler keeps coming.

Sacking him.

They lie together in a heap, laughing.

Bodhi quarterbacks. Utah rushes. Bodhi fakes a pass then

runs, ball tucked in his arm. Utah tears after him. Flat

out speed run.

Roach attempts a block. Utah hits him like a freight

train.

Roach hits the sand face first.

Grommet and Rosie the biker in a squeeze play.

Utah, fierce now, blasts between them. No mercy.

Utah can't play for fun. We see his expression.

Something scary there. What we will call "juggernaut

mode".

Tyler just steps aside.

Bodhi running along wet sand as a wave sweeps up the

beach. Looks back. Sees a demon shooting up roostertails

of spray behind him, gaining. Pours it on. Both of them

pistoning through curtains of water. Not a game anymore.

Closing on the endzone. 5 yards. Utah is airborne.

SLAMS BODHI LIKE A SAM MISSILE. They crash and burn

together in the surf.

The other surfers run up. Who's this newcomer that just

centerpunched their main man? Industrial strength

tension.

ROACH:

The f*** you doin' man?! You

f***in' crazy?

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