PLASTIC MAN
by
Larry and Andy Wachowski
March 17, 1995
FADE IN:
INT. CAGE
We are a lab mouse.
Our world is a cage; the laboratory beyond the wire mesh
has the sprawling limitlessness of a universe with dark
endless voids and immense technological instruments
gleaming with celestial light.
We can hear a WOMANS VOICE though we cant understand
what she is saying.
There are several other lab mice in
A high AERIAL SHOT of the island features the Statue of Liberty prominently in the foreground then TRAVELS ACROSS the harbor, OVER the Battery and Lower Manhattan to Greenwich Village.
EXT. EAST 77TH STREET - DAY
A car is being hoisted up by a municipal tow truck while its owner is having a terrible screaming argument with a parking enforcement officer. DANA BARRETT comes home pushing a baby bugg
Many people have asked me what happened with Sandman, and to date Ive kept mum. But theres so much misinformation and rumor out there that I feel its now time to tell my side of the story:
Its simple. I was at Warner Brothers one day in 1996 chatting it up with Lorenzo DiBonaventura (aint that a mouthful). Good ol Lorenzo decided to whip through a bunch of titles that they had in development, cu
Of glowing honey-colored stones. Their shapes ABSTRACT as THE CAMERA EXAMINES air bubbles and crystalline patterns.
MOVING UP AND OVER this amber abstraction, the CAMERA FINDS unusual shapes and imperfections caught in the glassy stone: flecks of dirt, hairs, cracks. STILL MOVING. STARBURSTS OF LIGHT ricochet off the different surfaces of the stones.
CAMERA TURNS along a creamy stretch of amber.
The camera is moving toward an Indian city. We are high and far away, only the sound of the wind as we grow nearer and nearer, and through the passing clouds these words appear:
No mans life can be encompassed in one telling. There is no way to give each year its allotted weight, to include each event, each person who helped to shape a lifetime. What can be done is to be faithful in spirit to the
Silence. Norland Park, a large country house built in the early part of the eighteenth century, lies in the moonlit parkland.
2 INT. NORLAND PARK. MR DASHWOODS BEDROOM. NIGHT.
In the dim light shed by candles we see a bed in which a MAN (MR DASHWOOD, 52) lies his skin waxy, his breathing laboured. Around him two silhouettes move and murmur, their clothing susurrating in the deathly hush. DOCTORS.
TEN THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU
PADUA HIGH SCHOOL - DAY
Welcome to Padua High School,, your typical urban-suburban
high school in Portland, Oregon. Smarties, Skids, Preppies,
Granolas. Loners, Lovers, the In and the Out Crowd rub sleep
out of their eyes and head for the main building.
PADUA HIGH PARKING LOT - DAY
KAT STRATFORD, eighteen, pretty -- but trying hard not to be
-- in a baggy granny dr
Limbo Script
Welcome to Americas last frontier...
... where the final lumbering
remnants of the lce Age...
... the massive and
awe-inspiring glaciers...
... calve cathedral-sized
icebergs into the sea...
... where natures bounty unfolds
in a panoply of flora and fauna...
... the like of which is seen
nowhere else on the planet.
From the ocean depths,
plumbed by ageless cetaceans...
... to azure s
TRAIN WHEELS grinding against track, slowing. FOLDING TABLE LEGS scissoring open. The LEVER of a train door being pulled. NAMES on lists on clipboards held by clerks moving alongside the tracks.
CLERKS (V.O.)
몭 Rossen 몭 Lieberman 몭 Wachsberg 몭
BEWILDERED RURAL FACES coming down off the passenger train. FORMS being set out on the folding tables. HANDS straightening pens and pencils and ink
He is a bespectacled man in his thirties, hale but somewhat bookish. He stands, tuxedoed, in the wings of a theater, looking out at the stage, listening intently to end of a performance.
In the shadows behind him an old stagehand leans against a flat, expressionlessly smoking a cigarette, one hand on a thick rope that hangs from the ceiling.
The voices of the performing actors echo in from the of