henryscript
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26 INT. BAR OF THE BETHESDA GOLF CLUB - CONTIGUOUS WITH ABOVE26
Harold leans back. He is smoking a cigarette.
SARAH
That's humiliating.
HAROLD
Yes.
SARAH
Then why?
HAROLD
Humiliation wasn't the goal, just
the by-product. Henry liked to
work both ends against the middle.
His blindness was that he couldn't
see how belittling his behavior
was.
SARAH
Did his strategy work?
HAROLD
We killed nigh on to 180,000 people
at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. There's
some kind of success in that.
SARAH
So it ended the war.
HAROLD
That's what they tell me. But he
ended up having both of those teams
hating him.
SARAH
For bringing them to their part in
all that death?
Once again, Harold laughs somewhat dismissively.
HAROLD
These were pure scientists. They
were all about cause, not effect.
No, Henry's sin was patronizing
them. That's far more unforgivable
to them than a few hundred thousand
corpses.
SARAH
But that still didn't make him...
You don't believe he was guilty, do
you?
Harold considers his response a moment.
HAROLD
Do I think he sold government
secrets to enemy agents?
SARAH
That's the question.
HAROLD
No. I don't believe he did.
Sarah smiles. Harold sees this and also smiles.
SARAH
Just like Henry David Wachsberg.
Right?
HAROLD
I taught him that much.
SARAH
Never answer a question until you
rephrase it for a truthfully
evasive answer.
HAROLD
Lawyer's daughter?
SARAH
Yes. My father was with Brown,
Weaver in New York.
Harold breaks into a laugh of recognition.
HAROLD
Hillman? Karl Hillman?
Sarah nods.
HAROLD (cont'd)
Well, hell, I knew your old man
from way back.
SARAH
I know.
HAROLD
Why the hell didn't you say
something?
Harold laughs at some long forgotten memory. His attitude
toward her changes dramatically.
HAROLD (cont'd)
I'll be damned. So that's why
Henry David Wachsberg.
(Sarah nods.)
Isn't that a little dangerous?
SARAH
I didn't tell my advisor he was my
grandfather.
HAROLD
That's not the kind of danger I
meant. I know how close your
father was to him. He defended him
right up until his own death.
Personally, I think it was a
contributing factor.
SARAH
I think so, too. He never got the
peace he...
HAROLD
Darlin', it's hard enough fighting
the good fight. Especially when
it's somebody else's good fight.
SARAH
It's my fight now.
HAROLD
You weren't there like your father
was. You're father was a good man.
Not a stain on him as far as I ever
knew. But Henry wasn't your
father.
SARAH
I never said he was. I never
thought that.
HAROLD
OK, maybe you do know better. But
be careful about poking around in
the ashes.
Sometimes there's enough of a spark
left to set a real fire.
CUT TO:
27 INT. SANS SOUCI RESTAURANT - THAT EVENING 27
Very upscale, very dark wood and very old money. It smells
of power.
Sarah is dressed as best as she can be but seems out of place
in these surroundings. The room is filled with well-dressed
couples locked in intimate conversation but she sits alone at
the bar. Seated next to an empty stool, she is nursing her
drink and nervously playing with her swizzle stick.
SAM PARTIPILO enters. He is striking if not handsome and
appears only marginally more comfortable in these
surroundings than Sarah.
Sam sits at the far end of the bar and waits for her to see
him. She would be able to do this easily if she would just
look up.
DIGNIFIED MAN crosses to the empty seat next to Sarah.
DIGNIFIED MAN
(referring to the stool)
Is someone using this?
SARAH
(looking up)
Yes, there...
She sees Sam across the bar. He smiles and puts his hand up
in a gesture of greeting then motions to the empty seat next
to him. She smiles broadly. She speaks to Dignified Man as
she gets out of her chair.
SARAH (cont'd)
It's OK. Take it.
Sarah crosses to Sam who rises from his chair. They embrace.
It is very cordial but once completed, both seem at a bit of
a loss. There is some nervous laughter passed between the
two of them. Somewhat awkwardly, Sam leans forward and
kisses her cheek. She does the same to him.
SAM
You look good. Great, really.
SARAH
(snorting)
Compared to the rest of the people
around here, I look like
something...
SAM AND SARAH
...the cat aborted.
Both laugh.
SAM
You still use that.
SARAH
(noting the place)
Only in the better restaurants.
Both laugh.
SAM
Yeah, you're right. The Sans Souci
is maybe a bit much. I was trying
to impress.
SARAH
(flirtatiously)
I'm impressed.
SAM
How about...um...Do you...?
SARAH
Yes.
Again they laugh. It's still nervous but certainly pleasant.
CUT TO:
28 INT. STEAK HOUSE - A SHORT WHILE LATER 28
Nothing fancy, just something slightly above a Sizzler or
Ponderosa-level steak house.
Sarah and Sam are seated in a dark wooden booth with a rather
vast meal splayed out in front of them. Their reasonably
nice dress puts them at odds with this place as well although
now it is they who seem too good for their surroundings and
not the other way around.
It is clear that there is not the higher level of comfort and
communication both had assumed would exist.
SAM
How's your steak?
SARAH
I'm stuffed.
SAM
Was it the third Hoedown potato or
the eighth Tangy Rancher garlic
breadstick?
Both smile nervously but also steal looks around the room.
SAM (cont'd)
So, tell me: How are things going
for you?
SARAH
Oh, pretty much as I write to you.
SAM
I meant with Brady.
Sarah looks to her plate and plays with something on it.
SAM (cont'd)
Sorry. I thought...
SARAH
No, it's... It's weird. I... Can
we not talk about this?
Sam puts his hands up.
SAM
Of course. How's your...?
She looks at him, frightened that the question will be one
she does not want to answer.
SAM (cont'd)
...steak?
SARAH
It's good.
(changing the subject)
You tell me about your love life.
You already know all about mine. I
don't even know... You're not
dating anyone, are you?
Sam shakes his head.
SAM
I did have one last Saturday.
Sarah looks back at her plate and starts to pick at the meat.
There is a perceptible but slight darkening of her mood.
SAM (cont'd)
Dark. Pretty. Very "inside the
beltway."
SARAH
I don't know what that means.
SAM
Long dress. Long hair. Long
nails. Ph.D from the Kennedy
School.
SARAH
Did you fuck her?
Sam is a bit taken aback by this question. Sarah is showing
some barely controlled jealousy.
SARAH (cont'd)
I tell you all about Brady and me.
SAM
I know you do.
SARAH
Well?
SAM
I didn't want to. I just came home
and emailed you.
There is a visible relaxation in Sarah. She smiles and goes
back to her steak.
SAM (cont'd)
I do have a question for you.
SARAH
Hmm?
SAM
What does Brady think about all of
this? You and me writing so much.
SARAH
He's fine with it. No problem at
all. I told him you were gay.
SAM
Excuse me?
SARAH
So he should be jealous?
Sam nods his head, processing this thought.
SAM
How's your steak?
CUT TO:
29 INT. MOTEL ROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT 29
Sarah enters. She is carrying a doggy bag which she throws
rather unceremoniously on the end table. She sits on the
edge of the bed, looking for all the world like "little girl
lost".
She picks up the remote and turns on the television. She
then turns to the laptop and opens her email. The noise of
her channel surfing mixes with the sound of the internet
being accessed.
When the email is loaded, she turns off the sound on the TV
and opens a new message. She types in "Brady" and his full
name and email address appear in the address bar.
She looks at the screen a moment then types in "Hi, Hon."
Once that's written, she can only stare at the screen.
She looks at the phone. Then, with some energy, picks it up
and punches in a long distance number.
SARAH
(into phone)
Hi, it's me. I miss you. I wish I
was home in bed with you right now.
As Sarah says this, there is the BING of an Instant Message.
She looks up.
POV SARAH
The computer screen. The message is from Sharkbyte Sam. It
reads, "Well, that sucked."
Brady's voice is heard through the telephone.
BRADY (V.O.)
Oh, babe. What's up?
SARAH
I'm blue.
As she says these words, she types the same ones and Instant
Messages them to Sam.
BRADY
What's making you blue?
SARAH
I had dinner with Sam tonight...
BRADY (V.O.)
Sam? Oh, Whatzisname. No fun?
SARAH
It was just... I guess it's that
because we write each other all the
time, we just didn't have anything
to say to each other.
BING. A return message. Sarah looks at it.
POV SARAH
The Instant Message. It reads "I guess we've written so much
to each other we weren't sure of what to say."
BRADY (V.O.)
And now you're feeling lonely, like
you've lost a friend.
SARAH
I knew you'd understand. You
always do.
She types these same words and Instant Message's them to Sam.
BRADY (V.O.)
Hell, I'm sure it was just a matter
of you both freaking out because
all of a sudden here you were
trying a whole different form of
communication.
SARAH
What do you mean?
BRADY (V.O.)
Talking instead of writing.
BING. A return message. It reads "OK, we've had our freak
out. Wanna try again? Maybe dinner tomorrow?"
SARAH
Yeah. I see what you mean. You
think maybe another dinner might be
a good idea?
BRADY (V.O.)
It can't hurt. And at least you'll
know for sure.
Sarah types these same words to Sam with the exception of
changing "you'll" to "we'll". She sends it.
BRADY (V.O.) (CONT'D) (cont'd)
Kasha misses you.
SARAH
I miss her, too. Give her an extra
long walk for me.
BRADY (V.O.)
I miss you, too.
BING. A return message. It reads "Thanks. I wouldn't want
to fuck this up. You're my friend and I love you."
BRADY (cont'd)
You're my best girl and I love you.
I'll email you tomorrow.
SARAH
I love you, too. Good night.
She types these same words and sends them. She quits and
folds down the top of the computer.
Sarah crosses into the bathroom and leans into the sink to
wash her face. She rises with an unpleasant thought and
looks in the mirror.
SARAH (cont'd)
"Best girl"?
CUT TO:
30 INT. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS - THE NEXT DAY 30
An overpoweringly large, round and intimidating room. The
stacks run along the outer rim. In front of these and
creating a circle of their own are the card catalogs. The
innermost ring is of desks. These are filled with scholars,
all hunched over and working through voluminous documents.
Sarah is one of these. She is reading and seated back in the
chair with her feet up on the rim of the desk. She looks
like a teenager reading the latest Harlequin Romance. In
front of her are several impressively large green volumes.
LIBRARIAN, male, is walking the row of desks the way a prison
guard walks the line. He is stopped by Sarah's chair which
is cutting off the aisle. He clears his throat. This
startles Sarah. He motions her to take her feet off the desk
and she does so, moving into the table quite sheepishly.
Sarah turns a few pages of the book, clearly looking for
something specific. She finds it.
POV SARAH
The index page for this section of the committee records. It
reads "House Committee on Un-American Activities
Investigation into Security Issues Pertaining to Henry David
Wachsberg, Professor, Nuclear Physics, University of Chicago;
Government Program Leader."
Sarah scans the long table of contents. It is made up of the
names of witnesses for the Subcommittee. She makes a
selection and opens to that page. The heading reads
"Subcommittee Testimony/Closed. Transcript:"
The sound of a committee GAVEL striking three times
The title continues onscreen but now bleeds into a reading of
it by Senator Mundt.
SENATOR MUNDT (V.O.)
Lois Kaufman. Confessed Communist,
self-described intellectual, self
admitted Jew.
Sarah starts at the sound of this last "accusation."
SENATOR MUNDT (V.O.) (CONT'D) (cont'd)
May we begin?
Sarah looks up.
CUT TO:
31 INT. SUBCOMMITTEE HEARING ROOM - 1953/DAY 31
It is a reasonably large room. The only persons present are
as follows: The nine Committee members, all seated behind one
long table and the STENOGRAPHER seated to their right.
Behind a small table facing the Committee sits LOIS KAUFMAN
and her ATTORNEY. She is in her 40's and appears no more
than a frightened housewife. She reads somewhat hesitantly
from a prepared text.
LOIS KAUFMAN
I first met Henry David Wachsberg
in the fall of 1936. At the time
we were both students at the
University of Chicago. We did not
meet in the classroom, though. We
met at a gathering of the Young
Communists League in a cell located
at 4653 S. Dorchester Avenue near
the university campus.
There is some RHUBARB from the Committee which Mundt silences
with his GAVEL. The moment frightens Lois and she has to be
helped back into the reading of her testimony by her
Attorney.
LOIS KAUFMAN (cont'd)
It was not my impression that Mr.
Wachsberg was a committed Communist
so much as an interested hanger
on...
SENATOR MUNDT
The committee reporter will strike
that last statement from the
record. It's nothing but opinion.
ATTORNEY
Senator, what else are we here for?
Mrs. Kaufman's testimony was sought
precisely so that she could express
her opinion of Professor Wachsberg.
The Committee members huddle a moment and Mundt takes their
advice.
SENATOR MUNDT
All right. We'll let that stay in
the record but please advise your
client that the accepted
phraseology is "fellow traveler."
ATTORNEY
Thank you, Senator.
He motions Lois to continue. She leans back into the mic.
LOIS KAUFMAN
I reached my conclusions concerning
Mr. Wachsberg's level of
involvement from both his attitude
at the meetings and from a number
of conversations I had with him
over coffee and at other social
occasions following these meetings.
CUT TO:
32 INT. COFFEE SHOP - 1936/NIGHT 32
An owl wagon, the kind built from an old railroad passenger
car.
Lois is seated in a booth. Henry brings her a cup of coffee
from the counter and sits opposite her. The two look like
typical college students out on a first date; she the shy
one, he the Kappa keyholder looking for a willing lock.
Lois shyly smiles her thanks to Henry for the coffee and
takes a sip.
HENRY WACHSBERG
How is it?
Lois smiles to tell him it's good. She then diverts her eyes
back down to the tabletop. She is aware that he is staring at
her. She looks for a conversation starter.
LOIS KAUFMAN
The Supreme Court repealed the NRA
today.
HENRY WACHSBERG
I heard.
LOIS KAUFMAN
It's terrible, don't you think?
Finding the topic, she lets it embolden her to look up.
LOIS KAUFMAN (cont'd)
It'll put so many back on the
breadline.
He continues appraising her. It takes the wind out of her
sails.
LOIS KAUFMAN (cont'd)
Artists. And teachers. And...
uh...people.
She falls back to silence. It's now his turn.
HENRY WACHSBERG
You're very committed to all of
this, aren't you?
LOIS KAUFMAN
Oh, yes. Aren't you?
HENRY WACHSBERG
I'm still observing.
She looks at him quizzically, as though not sure of his
meaning. His stare is locked on her and it makes her
nervous.
HENRY WACHSBERG (cont'd)
Communism. It's an experiment.
And I treat it as I would any other
experiment. Observe. Respect the
protocols. Test the theories.
When I know where things stand, I
take advantage. Take the freedom
to impose myself on the experiment
to gain a desired outcome.
LOIS KAUFMAN
But there are so many theories.
HENRY WACHSBERG
That's why I need to be careful.
Collectivization, communality,
redistribution. Free love.
LOIS KAUFMAN
Free love? I don't...
HENRY WACHSBERG
Oh, it's there alright. Engels.
I've done my homework. How about
you?
LOIS KAUFMAN
I guess I haven't read that far.
HENRY WACHSBERG
You should. When we're done here,
stop by my room. I'll show you.
You can read it then we'll discuss.
There is the sound of a short, sharp gasp.
SARAH (V.O.)
You horny bastard!
BACK TO:
33 INT. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS - A SHORT WHILE LATER 33
Sarah is holding her mouth. Others at the table are staring
at her. She addresses those around her.
SARAH
Sorry.
CUT TO:
34 INT. DELICATESSEN - LATER THAT EVENING 34
A busy and warm neighborhood deli.
She is seated with Sam.
SARAH
I mean it's the oldest trick in the
book! He's using her politics to
seduce her!
Sam raises his soda to her.
SAM
Congratulations. You're the first
person I know to discover the porn
possibilities of both the Library
of Congress and the witch hunters.
They both laugh.
SARAH
I mean the Committee was
deliberately confusing national
security with sexual politics just
to rationalize their going after
him!
Sam puts his hands up with enthusiasm.
SAM
(referring to their
rapport)
This is better!
SARAH
Free flow. Like our writing.
They laugh at the pleasure they're taking in this new ease
with each other. Then, it subsides and both look at each
other. The silence panics each a little, as though afraid
the air has just as suddenly escaped the balloon.
SAM
Keep talking! For God's sake, keep
talking!
SARAH
OK...uh... You know what pisses me
off?
SAM
What?
SARAH
1936.
SAM
Why does 1936 piss you off?
SARAH
It's the same year my father was
born. My grandfather was hitting
that woman up while my grandmother
was pregnant with Dad.
SAM
Do you think your father knew?
SARAH
No. But that doesn't make it
right. Right?
CUT TO:
35 INT. JIMMY'S WOODLAWN TAP - THAT SAME EVENING 35
Brady is seated in a booth. He has several books laid out in
front of him. The bar is crowded but not too noisy. Behind
him can be seen the well-lit evening street through the
window.
Suddenly, all the lights, both inside and outside, go out. A
cheer erupts from the crowd.
YOUNG MAN
Blackout!
Brady looks around and notices that the streetlights are off
as well. He turns back to the table and feels around for a
pack of matches. He lights one.
BRADY'S POV
Teri. Lit only by his flickering match, she is seated
opposite him in the booth.
TERI
I love the way you do the Dewey
Decimal System.
Brady is confused by this. It takes him a moment to process
the comment.
BRADY
Uh...thanks.
The match burns his finger. He shakes out the light as Teri
laughs flirtatiously.
BRADY (cont'd)
(in the dark)
Shit!
CUT TO:
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