Rebel Without a Cause Page #2

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SUPERIMPOSE TITLE: "REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE" STARRING ____ as

siren rises piercingly close, and JIM looks up, we:

DISSOLVE TO:

Close shot. Throbbing light of police car. Night. The

siren screaming wildly, then dying. The sound of brakes.

Camera moves to reveal the police car stopped at the

entrance of a Precinct Station. Two officers dismount,

bearing between them the struggling JIM. They bear him up

the steps and in through the double doors.

Inside precinct station. Reception area. A large open space

onto which several corridors converge. In the middle is a

Sergeant's desk, really a quadrangular counter in the center

of which the SERGEANT stands. There are a few glass-walked

interviewing rooms which open off the area, and several

benches lining the walls. The scene is one of confusion,

activity and waiting. Phones ring. The arrested pass in

custody of officers. Present among others at JIM's entrance

are:
JUDY, who is blonde and sixteen. She sits on a crowded

bench wearing an expression of downcast bitterness. On a

bench across the way from her are three remarkably dirty

little Mexican children without shoes or socks. The oldest

is a BOY of four who is protecting his little SISTER who in

turn mothers an infant crying on the bench beside her.

Standing at a corner of the desk is a docile, undersized boy

of fifteen named JOHN "PLATO" CRAWFORD. He is shivering.

With him is a large NEGRO WOMAN, his maid. JIM comes

through the doors and is led to the desk. One of the

officers presents a brief report to the SERGEANT, who

examines it.

SERGEANT:

Mixed up in that beating on Twelfth

Street?

OFFICER:

No. Plain drunkenness.

SERGEANT:

This says he was picked up there.

OFFICER:

They had him on the carpet for an

hour at Headquarters. He's clear.

Plain drunkenness.

SERGEANT:

Young squirt. All right--You want

to lean him against something?

Stand him over there.

The officer leads JIM to JUDY's bench and stands him against

the wall beside it.

JIM is frisked, a look of prayer on his upturned face. The

OFFICER finds the toy monkey in his pocket and would take

it, but when JIM asks to keep it, the OFFICER hands it back

and moves away. Another officer enters and leads the

prisoner who is sitting next to JUDY into another room. JIM

sits beside her. He smiles at her but receives only a

chilling look. He winds the monkey up and sets it dancing

on the floor, but she is not amused. Camera pans to show

others reacting to the monkey with pleasure. We see PLATO

look up and smile a little. Camera stops on the MEXICAN

CHILDREN who are smiling too. A bald JUVENILE OFFICER named

GENE, squats before them, smiling.

GENE:

You going to tell me your name now?

The little boy shakes his head.

LITTLE BOY:

(touching GENE's bald pate)

Where's your hair?

GENE:

It's all gone.

LITTLE BOY:

Did you get a haircut?

GENE:

No--it just fell out!

LITTLE BOY:

(sympathetically)

Aw--

GENE laughs as another Juvenile Officer enters and pauses to

look at the children. His name is RAY.

RAY:

What gang does he belong to?

GENE:

Give him a couple of years.

RAY:

Where's your mamma, honey?

LITTLE BOY:

I don't know.

RAY and GENE exchange looks, then RAY moves across to JUDY--

camera following. He looks down at her, consults the file

in his hand.

RAY:

Judy--we're ready for you now.

JUDY:

(a mumble)

He hates me.

RAY:

What?

JUDY:

He hates me.

She rises. RAY leads her to one of the glass-walled offices.

Camera moves with them. JIM watches them go.

RAY:

What makes you think he hates you,

Judy?

JUDY:

I don't think. I know. He looks

at me like I'm the ugliest thing in

the world. He doesn't like my

friends--he--

RAY leads her into the office.

Inside small office as JUDY comes in, RAY following. He

indicates a chair for her while he sits down behind a desk.

JUDY:

(continuing)

He doesn't like anything about me--

he calls me--he calls me--

She starts to cry. She doesn't hide it, but keeps wiping

the tears with the palms of her hands.

RAY:

He makes you feel pretty unhappy?

JUDY:

(crying)

He calls me a dirty tramp--my own

father!

RAY:

Do you think your father means that?

JUDY:

Yes! I don't know! I mean maybe

he doesn't mean it but he acts like

he does. We're altogether and

we're going to celebrate Easter and

catch a double bill. Big deal. So

I put on my new dress and I came

out and he--

RAY:

That one?

JUDY:

Yes--he started yelling for a

handkerchief--screaming. He

grabbed my face and he rubbed all

my lipstick off--he rubbed till I

thought I wouldn't have any lips

left. And all the time yelling at

me--that thing--the thing I told

you he called me. Then I ran out

of the house.

RAY:

Is that why you were wandering

around at one o'clock in the morning?

JUDY:

I was just talking a walk. I tried

to call the kids but everybody was

out and I couldn't find them. I

hate my life. I just hate it.

RAY:

You weren't looking for company,

were you?

JUDY:

No.

RAY:

Did you stop to talk to anyone,

Judy?

(she is silent)

Do you enjoy that?

JUDY:

No. I don't even know why I do it.

RAY:

Do you think you can get back at

your Dad that way? I mean

sometimes if we can't get as close

to somebody as we'd like we have to

try making them jealous--so they'll

have to pay attention. Did you

ever think of that?

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