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Gattaca
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Gattaca
A Screen Play
by Andrew M. Niccol
FADE IN
A
white title appears on a black screen.
"As night-fall does not
come at once, neither
does oppression...It is in
such twilight that
we all must be aware of change
in the air
- however slight - lest we
become victims of
the darkness."
Justice William O.
Douglas
The title fades off, replaced by a second
title.
"I not only think that we
will tamper with
Mother Nature, I think Mother
wants us to."
William Gaylin
The second title fades off, leaving a dark
screen.
The darkness gradually gives way to a
dawning light.
We are confronted with sight of a barren,
empty landscape. A
wide expanse of wasteland.
Suddenly, without warning, an elephant
tusk falls from the sky
and crashes onto the parched ground. The earth-shuddering
impact causes the tusk to rebound once in
slow motion before
finally settling to the desert floor in a
cloud of dust.
The first tusk is quickly followed by a
second, also dropping
from the heavens. It lands near the first. Another tusk
smashes to earth several yards away. Yet another comes crashing
into the foreground.
Finally the dust settles upon a graveyard
of tusks.
DISSOLVE TO
A BARREN, EMPTY LANDSCAPE
In another region of the wasteland, a
forest of tree trunks
suddenly rains down from the sky. The trunks thump to the hard
ground, also rebounding in slow motion. Cleanly sawn,
branchless, palm-like trunks, they come to
rest in the dust only
to be followed by a second cascade of
lumber.
When the dust finally clears. the felled
tree trunks lie in a
huge, log-jam in the desert.
DISSOLVE TO
A BARREN, EMPTY LANDSCAPE
Next to descend from the sky, a torrent of
firewood. One shower
after another, crashing to the plain. Enough chopped lumber to
fuel a thousand hearths.
DISSOLVE TO
A BARREN, EMPTY LANDSCAPE
Joining the rest of the debris is a deluge
of slate - sheets
of shale from a great unseen quarry in the
sky come slamming to
earth.
Some of the pieces shattering, some rebounding into the
air until the granite litters acres of
landscape as far as the
eye can see.
TITLES ARE SPACED APPROPRIATELY THROUGHOUT
THE PRECEDING
SEQUENCE.
THE FINAL TITLE READS:
T H E N O T
- T O O - D I
S T A N T F U T U R E
The camera commences a long, slow
pull-back from the pile of
elephant tusks. Gradually they are revealed as human
fingernails magnified many hundreds of
times.
The tree trunks are mere hair
follicles. The firewood,
whiskers.
The slate, flakes of skin.
INT.
INCINERATOR. EARLY MORNING.
A naked MAN, thirties, seen in profile, is
crouched upon a metal
floor inside a small, brushed stainless
steel tank, rubbing his
skin raw with a wire brush. JEROME MORROW.
Having completed his scrupulous ablutions,
Jerome arches his
lean frame through the small, oval door of
the metal room
with practised
ease.
Securing the thick, fireproof windowed
door behind himself, he
turns a switch to release gas into the vacated
chamber. The gas
instantly ignites in what is now revealed
to be a gleaming
modern stainless-steel custom-made
incinerator.
We refocus on a MAGNIFIED CLOSE UP of his
exfoliated flesh in
the incinerator as it blackens, curls and
burns.
Jerone covers
himself with a silk robe and steps into a pair of
backless slippers.
INT.
EUGENE'S CONDOMINIUM. EARLY
MORNING.
JEROME emerges from the incinerator room
into a large, luxurious
loft-style condo containing a bizarre
assortment of equipment -
arranged somewhat like a production line.
Long, scrupulously clean metal work
benches are arranged along
one entire wall. Laid out on the benches in neat rows are
dozens of plastic bags - some filled, some
unfilled. Instruments
on trays - various types of tweezers,
scissors and other less
familiar utensils. Round, stainless steel containers filled
with hairs of differing lengths and other
body matter.
JEROME approaches another man slumped over
one of the benches.
EUGENE.
He clutches an empty vodka bottle.
He is snoring
lightly - sleeping off the night
before. As JEROME gently
prises the
bottle out of his hand, we are struck by the
similarity of Eugene's face to Jerome's.
Jerome pulls Eugene's chair back from the
desk with surprising
ease.
A wheelchair - a modern, ergonomic design. Jerome wheels
Eugene to a bedroom and, with some
difficulty, hauls the larger
man onto the bed. Through his alcoholic fog, Eugene feebly co-
operates - his paralyzed legs a particular
dead weight.
After covering Eugene with a blanket,
Jerome enters a bathroom
containing a surgically-clean stainless
steel basin, sink,
shower and toilet.
Beside the toilet stands a large,
industrial-style stainless
steel refrigerator.
Donning protective gloves, Jerome opens
the liquid-nitrogen
cooled refrigerator. A cloud of condensed water vapor billows
out.
Revealed inside the fridge are racks of labelled
jars and
silicon pouches - some containing a
yellowish liquid, some a
deep, red liquid.
In front of one of the jars is a
handwritten shopping list -
"TRUFFLES, CIGS, VODKA". Jerome smiles to himself as he
retrieves the note along with one of the
jars. He checks the
jar's label. Satisfied with the date written there, he
breaks
the seal and pours the contents into the
clear, silicon pouch of
an IV-like device lying on the steel
bathroom counter.
He seals the pouch and checks the
apparatus by opening the valve
on its fine tube and squirting a small
quantity of the liquid
into the nearby toilet bowl, as one would
test a syringe. We
remain on Jerome's face as he reaches
between his legs and
inserts the pouch.
Reopening the refrigerator, Jerome slides
out a tray containing
neat rows of slim, fingertip-sized plastic
sachets filled with a
deep, red-colored liquid. He removes his gloves, selects one of
the sachets and carefully adheres the
sachet to the pad at the
end of his index finger. He prepares a second sachet for his
middle finger. Jerome then applies skin-colored cover-up
makeup
to the sachets, blending them in with the
color of his fingers.
JEROME, still dressed in his robe, climbs
a large, spiral
staircase to the floor above.
INT.
JEROME'S CONDOMINIUM. EARLY
MORNING.
He emerges at the top of the staircase
into a similarly large,
loft-stlye condominium. Through the floor to ceiling window
that opens onto a balcony we see that dawn
is only just starting
to leak into the night sky.
In the bedroom JEROME removes a shirt from
a drycleaning bag.
Printed on the bag - "Confidentiality
Guaranteed". He emerges
from his bedroom, dressed in a smart
albeit unconventionally cut
suit.
He adjusts his tie in the mirror, careful not to disturb
the sachets attached to his fingertips.
INT.
INVESTIGATOR'S POOL. MORNING.
A lone MAN swims a ferocious lap of
freestyle in what appears to
be a pool of enormous length - yet he
never reaches the pool's
end.
We pull wider to reveal that the man is swimming against
an artificial current in a pool barely larger
than himself.
Abruptly, the man stops and stands up -
the fast-flowing current
instantly stilled. We glimpse the face of INVESTIGATOR LUCAS.
Thirties, he has a youthful yet rigid
face. We have the
impression that he does not swim for
pleasure.
EXT.
CONDOMINIUM COMPLEX. MORNING.
It is still early as JEROME exits the
building's underground
parking garage in an immaculate Studebaker
Avanti and proceeds
down the long straight driveway. He exchanges a wave with a
GARDENER trimming a lawn.
The whir of the car's electric powered
engine belies its
conventional appearance.
EXT.
GATTACA AEROSPACE CORPORATION.
DAY.
JEROME's car exits a highway and turns up
the sweeping road
leading to the parking lot of
"GATTACA AEROSPACE CORPORATION".
A sleek, modern, low-rise industrial
compound boasting perfectly
manicured landscaped gardens.
INT.
GATTACA AEROSPACE CORPORATION.
DAY.
JEROME strides purposefully up to the entranceway
with hundreds
of other GATTACA EMPLOYEES. He carries himself with a certain
arrogance, a cool detachment. All employees wear similarly
unconventionally-cut suits, short coiffed
hair and robust tans.
The Gattaca
employees are a seemingly equal split of men and
women and a diverse range of ethnicities.
They filter through a row of channels
supervised by SECURITY
GUARDS.
Each channel contains a computerized security device,
featuring a slim groove in which the
employee places a finger
under the watchful eye of a Security
Guard.
Jerome gives a polite nod to a Guard as he
places his index
finger in the groove. His fingertip is jabbed with the
finest of needles and a minute blood
sample taken.
The blood specimen confirms Jerome's
identity - an ID photograph
appearing on a computer screen.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jerome spies
a young woman
entering through the adjacent
channel. She is also sneaking a
glance in his direction - IRENE. Catching each other looking,
they both quickly avert their eyes.
As Jerome enters the computer facility of Gattaca Aerospace
Corporation he furtively glances at the
pin-prick puncture in
his fingertip sachet.
SOMEWHERE IN DEEP SPACE.
A GATTACA spacecraft skirts an
asteroid. Taking advantage of
the rock's gravitational pull, the craft
slingshots deeper into
the black void. Then abruptly the craft and the asteroid
freeze
in mid-space, suddenly reverse direction
and proceed forward
again - the spacecraft taking a slightly
adjusted course.
We pull back to reveal that the journey is
merely a highly
realistic graphic representation on a
GATTACA computer screen
operated by JEROME.
Appearing simultaneously alongside the
computer animation is a
seemingly never-ending column of computer
instructions for this
celestial navigation - the
incomprehensible language of the
computer programmer.
140 #x20x08x$$x20x08x$$x20x08x$$x20{
150
#x00x00x00x00x00x00x00x00x00x00
160 #xfexfexfexfexfexfexfexfexfexfe
Jerome is transported - plotting a path
through the heavens.
As his fingers fly across the keys he does
not once take his
eyes from the screen.
His is one of hundreds of ergonomically
designed work stations,
arranged in ever-widening circles in a
huge, curcular, well-
appointed if antiseptic room. Each curved desk contains a
computer terminal consisting of a keyboard
and a slim,
transparent screen behind which is seated
a PROGRAMMER,
designing software for the aerospace
agency. At the center of
the room is a donut-shaped command
console, chairs facing
outwards, from which operations are
monitored.
Floor to ceiling smoked-glass curved walls
offer the only
concession to nature - a tinted view of a
man-made, meticulously
landscaped garden.
Jerome tears himself away from his screen
and picks up a
discreet mini-vac. He vacuums between the keys of his keyboard.
DIRECTOR JOSEF, 50's, a shorter,
official-looking man
approaches. His assistant IRENE stands at his shoulder.
DIRECTOR JOSEF
You keep your work station so
clean, Jerome.
JEROME
--Next to Godliness, isn't that
what they say?
The Director smiles at the notion and
places a computer disc
on Jerome's desk.
DIRECTOR JOSEF
I reviewed your flight plan. Not one error
in a hundred thousand
keystrokes. Phenomenal.
(placing a hand on
Jerome's shoulder)
It's right that someone like you
is taking us
to the Belt.
(glancing to notification
on Jerome's screen)
You have a substance test.
The Director briskly departs, Irene in
tow. At a nearby work
station, a painfully thin programmer,
NAPOLEON, perks up at
the mention of the test.
Jerome merely shrugs and pretends to reach
down and scratch his
ankle.
However he surreptitiously produced one of Eugene's
transparent specimen bags from his
sock. An EXTREME CLOSE UP
reveals the bag's contents - flakes of
skin, hair follicles,
eyelashes, a fingernail. Cupping the bag in his hand to avoid
detection, Jerome sprinkles the fraudulent
body matter over his
keyboard, desk surfaces and the floor
around his work station.
He
opens his desk drawer and casually scatters the remainder of
the bag.
Finally he inspects a comb already laced with two
hair follicles.
Jerome rises from his work station and
makes his way towards the
testing lab.
INT.
GATTACA AEROSPACE CORPORATION - TESTING LABORATORY. DAY.
White-coated LAMAR, forties, buzzcut, a man's man, checks
JEROME's eyes with an instrument. Satisfied with his
examination, he passes a transparent
plastic container to
JEROME.
Standing directly in front of the technician with his
back to camera, Jerome opens his fly. A steady stream of urine
begins to flow into the container from
Jerome's hidden pouch.
LAMAR
(staring admiringly at
the discharge)
Jerome...never shy. Pisses on command.
You've got a beautiful cock. I ever told
you that, Jerome?
JEROME
(deadpan as he continues
to urinate)
Only every time I'm in here.
Jerome hands the container to Lamara who seals and label it as
Jerome refastens his trousers.
LAMAR
I see a lot of cocks. I speak from experience.
Yours is a beautiful example. Why didn't my
folks order a cock like that for
me?
LAMAR pours the urine sample into a
high-tech device where it
is instantly analyzed. The urine identifies Jerone
while also
registering a negative drug reading. The computer reads
"VALID".
LAMAR
(walking Jerome to the
door)
If everything goes to plan, this
could be the
last time I see you for a while. One week to
go. Please tell me you're the least bit excited.
JEROME
I'll tell you at the end of the
week.
Jerome departs.
INT.
GATTACA - RESTROOM. DAY.
JEROME enters the restroom and glances at
the toilet stalls.
Only three in the bank of twenty is
occupied. He tarries at the
mirror above the uniform line of basins,
unnecessarily
reknotting his
tie.
A toilet flushes and a COLLEAGUE exits one
of the stalls. He
and Jerome exchange a nod. When the man has exited the restroom,
Jerome enters the man's vacated stall.
INT.
GATTACA - TOILET STALL. DAY.
JEROME immediately feels around the back
of the toilet bowl and
detaches a secreted stainless steel
container.
With surprising swiftness and dexterity,
Jerome removes an
extremely fine contact lens from each eye
and drops the pair
into the toilet bowl. He inserts two replacement lenses from
the container and reattaches it in its
hiding place.
Jerome flushes the toilet and exits the
stall. He checks in the
mirror that his new contact lenses are
properly inserted.
INT.
GATTACA - CORRIDOR. DAY.
Walking back along one of the long,
glass-walled corridors,
JEROME becomes aware of a peculiar noise
in the complex -
or to be more precise, a lack of
noise. The incessant tapping
of computer keys has stilled.
As Jerome gazes through the glass walled
corridor, we see the
reflection of his face, deep in thought.
JEROME (VO)
The most unremarkable of
events. Jerome
Morrow, Navigator First class, is
only days
away from a one-year manned
mission to 951
Gaspra in the Outer
Asteroid Belt. Nothing so
unique in that. Last year over one thousand
citizens from every walk of life
embarked on
some space mission or other. Besides,
selection for Jerome was
virtually guaranteed
at birth. He is blessed with all the physical
and intellectual gifts required
for such an
arduous undertaking, a genetic
quotient second
to none.
Jerome's gaze drifts to the sky.
JEROME (VO)
No, there is truly nothing
remarkable about
the progress of Jerome Morrow,
except that I
am not Jerome Morrow.
EXT.
BEACH. DUSK - THIRTY-ODD YEARS
EARILER
A starry sky. The camera tilts down to find palm trees
swaying against a setting sun.
JEROME (VO)
I was conceived in the
Riviera. Not the
French
Riviera.
The camera tilts down further to find a
Buick Riviera parked in
a deserted beachfront parking lot on a
polluted stretch of
beach.
JEROME (VO)
The Detroit
variety.
Through the car's steamed windows we see
Jerome's mother and
father, MARIA and ANTONIO, early twenties,
making love.
JEROME (VO)
They used to say that a child
conceived in love,
has a greater chance of
happiness. They don't
say that any more.
INT.
FAMILY PLANNING CLINIC. DAY.
MARIA, wearing a medical gown, lies on an
examining table, feet
in stirrups. A NURSE, forties, wheels an instrument tray
towards her. Maria suddenly disengages her feet from the
stirrups and swings her legs off the
table.
NURSE
What are you doing?
MARIA
(shaking her head)
I can't do this.
NURSE
(misinterpreting the problem)
I told you, the government
pays. It's all
taken care of.
MARIA
No, you don't understand. I can't.
The nurse places a comforting hand on
Maria's shoulder.
NURSE
(reassuring)
The doctor will give you
something.
MARIA
(removing the hand,
adamant)
I'm not doing it.
NURSE
(trying to make her see
reason)
Honey, you've made one
mistake--
The remark stings Maria.
NURSE
(softening her tone)
--I've read your profile. I don't
know about the father but you
carry
enough hereditary factors on your
own.
(pause)
You can have other children.
MARIA
(holding her swollen stomach protectively)
Not like this one.
NURSE
(trying to be diplomatic)
Honey, look around you. The world doesn't
want one like that one.
Maria gets off the table and reaches for
her clothes laying
across a chair.
MARIA
(irate)
You don't know what it will be!
The nurse watches Maria as she dresses,
genuinely bewildered.
NURSE
(calling out to Maria as
she disappears
out of the door)
The child won't thank you!
INT.
DELIVERY ROOM. DAY.
We focus on a crucifix dangling on a
rosary. Tilting up we find
the rosary clasped between MARIA and
ANTONIO's intertwined
hands.
JEROME (VO)
Those were early days--days when
a priest
could still persuade someone to
put their
faith in God's hands rather than
those of
the local geneticist.
Bathed in sweat, Maria gives a final push
on the delivery table.
While still attached to his umbilical
cord, the heel of the
NEWBORN BABY BOY is immediately pricked by
a masked NURSE. A
minute drop of blood is inserted into an
analyzing machine.
Even as the baby is put into Maria's arms,
page after page of
data begins to appear on a monitor,
pulsing warning signals
throughout the spreadsheets.
Two assisting NURSES exchange a look. Antonio senses something
amiss.
ANTONIO
What's wrong?
JEROME (VO)
Of course, there was nothing wrong
with me.
Not so long ago I would have been
considered
a perfectly healthy, normal
baby. Ten fingers,
ten toes. That was all that used to matter.
But now my immediate well-being
was not the
sole concern.
Antonio turns his attention from his baby
to the data appearing
on the monitor. We see individual items highlighted amongst
the
data - "NERVE CONDITION -
PROBABILITY 60%", "MANIC DEPRESSION -
42%", "OBESITY - 66%",
"ATTENTION DEFICIT DISORDER - 89%"--
JEROME (VO)
My destiny was mapped out before
me--
all my flaws, predispositions and
susceptibilities - most
untreatable to
this day. Only minutes old, the date and
cause of my death was already
known.
Antonio focuses on a final highlighted
item on the monitor's
screen, "HEART DISORDER - 99% -
EARLY FATAL POTENTIAL.".
"LIFE EXPECTANCY - 33 YEARS".
NURSE
The name?
(typing details into
birth certificate)
For the certificate.
MARIA
Antonio--
ANTONIO
(correcting her)
--No, Vincent Antonio.
With a computer stylus he signs the
nurse's handheld screen.
EXT.
TRACT HOME - BACKYARD. DAY.
2-YEAR-OLD JEROME (REFERRED TO BY HIS
GIVEN NAME OF "VINCENT"
FOR MOST OF THE FOLLOWING FLASHBACK)
running with a toy rocket
falls more in clumsiness than
fatigue. MARIA suddenly whisks up
the toddler.
MARIA
(hysterical)
Oh, Vincent, Vincent, Vincent...I
can't let
you out of my sight.
Maria frantically listens to her young
son's heartbeat. For
his part, Vincent appears surprised by the
attention. Maria
places a portable oxygen mask over
Vincent's mouth.
JEROME (VO)
I was born Vincent Antonio
Luca. And from
an early age I came to think of
myself as
others thought of me -
chronically ill.
Every skinned knee and runny nose
treated
as if it were life-threatening.
INT.
DAY CARE CENTER. DAY.
MARIA and ANTONIO drop off dark-haired
2-YEAR-OLD VINCENT at a
Day Care Center.
JEROME (VO)
And my parents soon realized that
wherever
I went, my genetic prophecy preceded
me.
While HEALTHY CHILDREN play outside on
tricycles, clamber over
jungle-gyms and finger-paint, the
PRE-SCHOOL TEACHER shows
Vincent into a room where CHILDREN WITH
OBVIOUS DISABILITIES
sleep on mats.
Maria wheels around and marches out of the
center with Vincent
in her arms. Antonio follows close behind, pleading with
his
wife to see sense.
JEROME (VO)
They put off having any more
children
until they could afford not to
gamble -
to bring a child into the world
in what
has become the
"natural" way.
EXT.
HOME. DAY.
ANTONIO reluctantly shows off his spotless
Buick Riviera to a
prospective BUYER.
JEROME (VO)
It meant selling the beloved
Buick.
The two men haggle over the price while
MARIA, holding VINCENT
in her arms, looks on. Finally money and a pink slip are
exchanged.
VINCENT (VO)
My father got a good price. After all,
the only accident he'd ever had
in that
car was me.
As the BUYER drives away, Antonio shrugs
to Maria to hide his
disappointment.
EXT.
GENETIC COUNSELLING OFFICE BUILDING.
DAY.
ANTONIO, MARIA and 2-YEAR-OLD VINCENT exit
a packed commuter
bus and enter a Genetic Counselling office building bearing
the sign - "PRO-CREATION".
INT.
GENETIC COUNSELLING OFFICE. DAY.
A GENETICIST stares into a high-powered
microscope as ANTONIO,
MARIA and 2-YEAR-OLD VINCENT are shown
into the office by a
NURSE.
On the counter beside the Geneticist is a glass-doored
industrial refrigerator containing petri dishes arranged on
racks several feet high.
GENETICIST
(to the nurse, without
taking
his eyes from his
binocular microscope)
Put up the dish.
While Antonio and Maria take a seat in front
of a television
monitor, the Nurse puts a labelled petri dish under a
video-
equipped microscope. The Geneticist swings around in his chair
to greet his clients.
Four magnified clusters of cells - eight
cells on each cluster
- appear on the television screen.
GENETICIST
Your extracted eggs...
(noting the couple's
names from
data along the edge of
the screen)
...Maria, have been
fertilized with...
Antonio's sperm and we
have performed an
analysis of the resulting
pre-embryos.
After screening we're left with
two healthy
boys and two healthy girls. Naturally, no
critical pre-dispositions to any
of the major
inheritable diseases. All that remains is
to select the most compatible
candidate.
Maria and Antonio exchange a nervous
smile.
GENETICIST
First, we may as well decide on
gender.
Have you given it any thought?
MARIA
(referring to the toddler
on her knee)
We would like Vincent to have a
brother...
you know, to play with.
The Geneticist nods. He scans the data around the edge of the
screen.
GENETICIST
You've already specified blue eyes,
dark
hair and fair skin. I have taken the liberty
of eradicating any potentially
prejudicial
conditions - premature baldness,
myopia,
alcoholism and addictive
susceptibility,
propensity for violence and
obesity--
MARIA
(interrupting, anxious)
--We didn't want--diseases,
yes.
ANTONIO
(more diplomatic)
We were wondering if we should
leave some
things to chance.
GENETICIST
(reassuring)
You want to give your child the
best possible
start. Believe me, we have enough imperfection
built-in already. Your child doesn't need
any additional burdens. And keep in mind,
this child is still you, simply
the best of you.
You could conceive naturally a
thousand times
and never get such a result.
ANTONIO
(squeezing Maria's hand)
He's right, Maria. That's right.
Maria is only half-convinced, but the
Geneticist swiftly moves
on.
GENETICIST
Is there any reason you'd want a
left-handed
child?
ANTONIO
(blank)
Er,
no...
GENETICIST
(explaining)
Some believe it is associated
with creativity,
although there's no
evidence. Also for
sports like baseball it can be an
advantage.
ANTONIO
(shrugs)
I like football.
GENETICIST
(injecting a note of
levity)
I have to warn you, Mr Luca, he's going
to be at least a head taller than
you.
Prepare for a crick in the neck
in
sixteen years time.
Antonio beams proudly.
GENETICIST
(scanning the data on the
screen)
Anything I've forgotten?
MARIA
(hesitant about broaching the
subject)
We want him--we were hoping he
would get
married and have children. We'd like
grandchildren.
GENETICIST
(conspiratorial smile)
I understand. That's already been taken
care of.
(an afterthought)
Now you appreciate I can only
work with
the raw material I have at my
disposal but
for a little extra...I could also attempt to
insert sequences associated with
enhanced
mathematical or musical ability.
MARIA
(suddenly enthused)
Antonio, the choir...
GENETICIST
(interjecting, covering
himself)
I have to caution you it's not
fool-proof.
With multi-gene traits there can
be no guarantees.
ANTONIO
How much extra?
GENETICIST
It would be five thousand more.
Antonio's face falls.
ANTONIO
I'm sorry, there's no way we can.
GENETICIST
Don't worry. You'll probably do just
as well singing to him in the
womb.
(rising to end the
appointment)
We can implant the most
successful
pre-embryo tomorrow afternoon.
Maria is staring at the four magnified
clumps on the screen.
MARIA
What will happen to the others?
GENETICIST
(reassuring)
They are not babies, Maria,
merely
"human possibilities".
Removing the petri
dish from beneath the lens of the microscope,
he points out the four minuscule specks.
GENETICIST
Smaller than a grain of sand.
DISSOLVE TO
INT.
TRACT HOME. DAY.
A red pencil draws a mark on a doorway at
the height of a
child's head. The child moves away and the name, "ANTON
11" is
written beside the mark by proud father,
ANTONIO.
JEROME (VO)
That's how my brother, Anton,
came into the
world - a son my father
considered worthy
of his name.
There is little physical similarity
between 11-YEAR-OLD ANTON
and 13-YEAR-OLD VINCENT standing beside
him, apart from their
height.
In fact Vincent is mortified to see that his younger
brother's mark is a fraction of an inch
higher than the mark
beside his own name, "VINCENT
13". Vincent runs from the
room.
EXT.
BEACH. DAY.
13-YEAR-OLD VINCENT and 11-YEAR-OLD ANTON
sit together on a
windswept beach.
Anton picks up a broken shell and
deliberately slices the tip of
his thumb with the sharp edge. He hands the shell to Vincent
who hesitantly follows suit.
JEROME (VO)
By the time we were playing at
blood
brothers I understood that there
was something
very different flowing through my
veins.
The two brothers press their thumbs
together, merging the blood.
JEROME (VO)
And I'd need an awful lot more
than
a drop if I was going to get
anywhere.
EXT.
BEACH. LATER IN THE DAY.
While ANTONIO and MARIA doze under a beach
umbrella, ANTON and
VINCENT enter the water, diving through
the waves. From above
we watch their two young bodies swimming
beside each other
beyond the breakers.
JEROME (VO)
Our favorite game was
"chicken". When our
parents weren't watching, we used
to swim outside
the flags, as far out as we
dared. It was about
who would get scared and turn
back first.
Suddenly VINCENT stops swimming, pulling
up sharply in the
water, exhausted and fearful. He watches ANTON swim on into the
distance.
JEROME (VO)
Of course, it was always me. Anton was by far
the stronger swimmer and he had
no excuse to fail.
INT.
SCHOOL - CLASSROOM. DAY.
A TEACHER gives a physics lesson. The bespectacled 13-YEAR-OLD
VINCENT has his arm energetically raised
at each opportunity but
is never called upon. Eventually he lowers his arm in defeat.
JEROME (VO)
My genetic scarlet letter
continued to follow
me from school to school. When you're told
you're prone to learning
disabilities, it's
sometimes easier not to
disappoint anybody.
EXT.
STREET. NIGHT.
13-YEAR-OLD VINCENT stands at a cul-de-sac
at the end of a long,
straight deserted street. He places a basketball in the middle
of the street to represent the SUN and
begins to unwind the huge
reel of string attached to the ball. 11-YEAR-OLD ANTON walks a
pace behind him. Several yards along the trail a bead is
threaded through the string to represent
the planet MERCURY.
ANTON
How many astronauts are there, anyway?
Vincent ignores him and continues to reel
out the string.
ANTON
I bet I could be one.
Vincent stops and regards his younger
brother with contempt.
VINCENT
You're standing on Venus.
Anton lifts his foot. There is a bead beneath it.
INT/EXT.
CAR / SATELLITE DISH. DUSK.
VINCENT has developed into a handsome
17-YEAR-OLD. His
spectacles hidden, he and a YOUNG WOMAN
are necking in the front
seat of a beat-up car, parked overlooking
a huge satellite dish.
JEROME (VO)
I was popular enough until it got
around
that I wasn't a long-term
proposition.
The love-making intensifies. The YOUNG WOMAN moves down
Vincent's chest and unzips his fly.
JEROME (VO)
Those who didn't know already
could easily
find out for themselves. It was certainly
no problem coaxing the
information out of me.
We remain on Vincent's face as he
climaxes. The YOUNG WOMAN
turns her head away from the spent Jerome
and, out of his
view, trickles semen from her mouth into a
clear specimen vial.
JEROME (VO)
I didn't blame them. You need to know if a
prospective husband can qualify
for a mortgage
or life insurance or can hold
down a decent job.
INT.
HOME. DAY.
In the living room of their modest home,
the dark-haired, 17-
year-old, bespectacled VINCENT sits
opposite his PARENTS. The
crestfallen Vincent has a book on his lap
entitled "CAREERS IN
SPACE".
MOTHER
(trying to break it gently)
Vincent, you have to be
realistic. A
heart condition like yours--
VINCENT
--I don't care. I'll take the risk.
MOTHER
It's not just you they
have to be concerned
about. Perhaps we could get you one of
those new pacemakers. They're not perfect
but--
FATHER
(letting his frustration
show)
For God's sake, Vincent, don't
you understand.
The only way you'll see the
inside of a space
ship is if you're cleaning it!
Vincent looks at his father in disbelief.
On a dinner table on the other side of the
living room, 15-YEAR-
OLD ANTON looks up from the biological
specimen he is studying
with a magnifying glass.
INT.
PERSONNEL OFFICE - WAITING ROOM.
DAY.
17-YEAR-OLD VINCENT hides his glasses in his
pocket as he enters
a WAITING ROOM. He gazes around at other APPLICANTS.
JEROME (VO)
My father was right. It didn't matter how
much I lied on my resumÈ, my real C.V. was
in my cells. Why should anybody invest all
that money to train me,
when there are a
thousand other applicants with a
far cleaner
profile? Of course, it's illegal to discriminate -
"genoism"
it's called - but no one takes the
laws seriously.
As Jerome enters the office, we focus on
the doorhandle he has
just touched.
JEROME (VO)
If you refuse to disclose, they
can always
take a sample from a doorhandle...
Vincent hesitates before shaking the
PERSONNEL OFFICER's
outstretched hand.
JEROME (VO)
...or a handshake...
We focus on Jerome's envelope attached to
his application form
sitting on the Manager's desk.
JEROME (VO)
...even the saliva off your
application form.
Sitting opposite the manager, Jerome's
face falls. The manager
puts a clear, plastic cup in front of Jerome.
JEROME (VO)
But for the most part we know who
we are.
And if all else fails, a legal
drug test
can just as easily become an
illegal peek
at your future in the company.
Vincent saves the Manager the trouble and
exits the office,
leaving the cup where it sits.
EXT.
BEACH. DAY.
17-YEAR-OLD JEROME walks up the beach to
find 15-YEAR-OLD ANTON
sitting with the YOUNG WOMAN Vincent had
previously dated.
JEROME (VO)
I didn't blame Anton for his free
ride. You
can't blame someone for winning
the lottery.
The Young Woman hastily departs.
LATER the two brothers face each other on
the sand. Anton is
the more statuesque of the two.
ANTON
(cocky)
You sure you want to do this?
Vincent's answer is to walk towards the
water. Anton smiles
mockingly at his brother's grim "game
face" and
follows.
From an aerial view we watch VINCENT and
his younger brother, ANTON,
swim beyond the breakers.
JEROME (VO)
It was the last time we swam
together.
Out into the open sea, like
always,
knowing each stroke towards the
horizon
was one we had to make back to
the
shore. Like always, the unspoken contest.
We watch the two young men swimming stroke
for stroke. They
swim far out, beyond the point. Suddenly ANTON starts to slow,
his strokes becoming labored until he
becomes motionless in the
water.
He begins to sink like a stone.
VINCENT, realizing
Anton is no longer beside him, turns back
to lend support.
Vincent takes him in a lifeguard hold and
begins to nurse him
back to shore. Finally the two boys are coughed up onto the
shallows.
They collapse, just beyond the waterline, exhausted,
gasping for air. ANTONIO and MARIA arrive on the scene. ANTON
is the first to recover while VINCENT
clutches his side, his
face screwed up in pain. Maria kneels down and starts to
administer to Vincent but his father,
Antonio, is unable to
conceal his anger and contempt for
Vincent.
ANTONIO
Vincent, you damn fool! You could have killed
Anton with your ridiculous
contest! Why should
he risk his life to save
yours?! When are you
going to get it through your
thick head--you
can't compete with your
brother! Why try?!
Maria takes Antonio aside. Anton and Vincent exchange a look.
ANTON