99585e4b51fa1bf94db82b0551d1d664e584621d
movie
http://www.imsdb.com/scripts/Sex%2C-Lies-and-Videotape.html
if ( window
BLACK THE END
 Ann Bishop Mullany lives in Baton Rouge. She is unhappily married to John, a successful lawyer, and has never experienced an orgasm. She is in therapy. Graham Dalton is an old college friend of John. He is now a seeming drifter who, after nine years, returns to live in Baton Rouge. Graham arrives to find Ann, who has no idea that John has invited Graham to stay with them until he finds an apartment. When John arrives home, Graham's demeanor becomes remarkably more guarded, due in large part to John's overt disapproval of Graham's bohemian persona. They also discuss the fact that Graham's college girlfriend, Elizabeth, is also living in Baton Rouge.
John is sleeping with Ann's sister, Cynthia, a free-spirited bartender. He rationalizes it by blaming Ann's frigidity. He frequently leaves his law office mid-day to meet with Cynthia, instructing his secretary to reschedule clients, even when they are already in the lobby waiting to see him. Ann makes an impromptu visit to Graham's apartment, where she notices stacks of camcorder tapes around the television. When pressed, Graham explains that he interviews women about their sexual experiences and fantasies, on videotape. Ann, overcome with shock and confusion, leaves his apartment.
Within a day, Cynthia appears at Graham's apartment and introduces herself. Cynthia presses Graham to explain what "spooked" Ann the preceding day. Graham explains the videotapes, and admits to Cynthia his sexual dysfunction: that he is impotent when in the presence of another person, and that he achieves gratification by watching these videos in private. Graham propositions Cynthia to make a tape, assuring her that no other person is allowed to see the tapes. She believes him, and agrees. Cynthia reports back to Ann, who is horrified. Cynthia also tells John, who also reacts very negatively (though more than a little possessively).
Ann and especially John are both reactionary in their condemnation of Graham, who in one conversation reacts with perhaps the defining line of the film: "I look at you, and John, and Cynthia, and I feel... comparatively healthy". When Ann discovers Cynthia's pearl earring in her bedroom (she knows it belongs to her sister since she had mentioned that she had lost it) while vacuuming, she is furious. She heads over to Graham's apartment with the intention of making a videotape. Graham objects, telling her it is something she would not do in a normal frame of mind. She insists and Graham relents.
Afterward, Ann demands a divorce from John. In the ensuing argument, John gleans that Ann has been to Graham's, and that she made a video. He goes to Graham's house, hits him and locks him out of the house, then watches Ann's tape. In it, Ann says she has never felt any kind of 'satisfaction' from sex. After Graham asks if she ever thinks of having sex with other men, she admits she has thought of Graham. Ann later turns the camera on Graham, who resists but she persists. Graham confesses that he is haunted by Elizabeth, and that his motivation in returning to Baton Rouge is an attempt to achieve some closure. He explains that he was a pathological liar, which destroyed an otherwise rewarding relationship with Elizabeth. He explains that he has since gone to great lengths to keep people at a distance and avoid relationships. Ann starts touching and kissing Graham; Graham turns off the camera; it is implied that the two have sex.
A chastened John joins Graham on the front patio and, with obvious pleasure, confesses to having sex with Elizabeth while she and Graham were a couple. But he also helps Graham see Elizabeth in a more realistic way. "She was no saint. She was good in bed and she could keep a secret. That's all I can say about her." and then leaves. This makes Graham furious and he goes into a rage and destroys all of the tapes, as well as his camera.
In the end, John is summoned to his boss's office, where itâs implied that he is about to be fired due to his frequent cancellations of meetings with important clients to the firm to have sexual trysts with Cynthia. In the next scene, Ann and Cynthia reconcile at the bar Cynthia tends before Ann returns home and joins Graham on the front porch, as they appear to be a couple.
Ann Bishop Mullany lives in Baton Rouge . She is unhappily married to John , a successful lawyer , and has never experienced an orgasm . She is in therapy . Graham Dalton is an old college friend of John . He is now a seeming drifter who , after nine years , returns to live in Baton Rouge . Graham arrives to find Ann , who has no idea that John has invited Graham to stay with them until he finds an apartment . When John arrives home , Graham s demeanor becomes remarkably more guarded , due in large part to John s overt disapproval of Graham s bohemian persona . They also discuss the fact that Graham s college girlfriend , Elizabeth , is also living in Baton Rouge . John is sleeping with Ann s sister , Cynthia , a free-spirited bartender . He rationalizes it by blaming Ann s frigidity . He frequently leaves his law office mid-day to meet with Cynthia , instructing his secretary to reschedule clients , even when they are already in the lobby waiting to see him . Ann makes an impromptu visit to Graham s apartment , where she notices stacks of camcorder tapes around the television . When pressed , Graham explains that he interviews women about their sexual experiences and fantasies , on videotape . Ann , overcome with shock and confusion , leaves his apartment . Within a day , Cynthia appears at Graham s apartment and introduces herself . Cynthia presses Graham to explain what spooked Ann the preceding day . Graham explains the videotapes , and admits to Cynthia his sexual dysfunction : that he is impotent when in the presence of another person , and that he achieves gratification by watching these videos in private . Graham propositions Cynthia to make a tape , assuring her that no other person is allowed to see the tapes . She believes him , and agrees . Cynthia reports back to Ann , who is horrified . Cynthia also tells John , who also reacts very negatively ( though more than a little possessively ) . Ann and especially John are both reactionary in their condemnation of Graham , who in one conversation reacts with perhaps the defining line of the film : I look at you , and John , and Cynthia , and I feel ... comparatively healthy . When Ann discovers Cynthia s pearl earring in her bedroom ( she knows it belongs to her sister since she had mentioned that she had lost it ) while vacuuming , she is furious . She heads over to Graham s apartment with the intention of making a videotape . Graham objects , telling her it is something she would not do in a normal frame of mind . She insists and Graham relents . Afterward , Ann demands a divorce from John . In the ensuing argument , John gleans that Ann has been to Graham s , and that she made a video . He goes to Graham s house , hits him and locks him out of the house , then watches Ann s tape . In it , Ann says she has never felt any kind of satisfaction ' from sex . After Graham asks if she ever thinks of having sex with other men , she admits she has thought of Graham . Ann later turns the camera on Graham , who resists but she persists . Graham confesses that he is haunted by Elizabeth , and that his motivation in returning to Baton Rouge is an attempt to achieve some closure . He explains that he was a pathological liar , which destroyed an otherwise rewarding relationship with Elizabeth . He explains that he has since gone to great lengths to keep people at a distance and avoid relationships . Ann starts touching and kissing Graham ; Graham turns off the camera ; it is implied that the two have sex . A chastened John joins Graham on the front patio and , with obvious pleasure , confesses to having sex with Elizabeth while she and Graham were a couple . But he also helps Graham see Elizabeth in a more realistic way . She was no saint . She was good in bed and she could keep a secret . That s all I can say about her . and then leaves . This makes Graham furious and he goes into a rage and destroys all of the tapes , as well as his camera . In the end , John is summoned to his boss s office , where itâs implied that he is about to be fired due to his frequent cancellations of meetings with important clients to the firm to have sexual trysts with Cynthia . In the next scene , Ann and Cynthia reconcile at the bar Cynthia tends before Ann returns home and joins Graham on the front porch , as they appear to be a couple .
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sex,_Lies,_and_Videotape
Sex, Lies, and Videotape
<html>
<head><title>Sex, Lies and Videotape Script at IMSDb.</title>
<meta name="description" content="Sex, Lies and Videotape script at the Internet Movie Script Database.">
<meta name="keywords" content="Sex, Lies and Videotape script, Sex, Lies and Videotape movie script, Sex, Lies and Videotape film script">
<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1" />
<meta name="HandheldFriendly" content="true">
<meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1">
<meta http-equiv="Content-Language" content="EN">

<meta name=objecttype CONTENT=Document>
<meta name=ROBOTS CONTENT="INDEX, FOLLOW">
<meta name=Subject CONTENT="Movie scripts, Film scripts">
<meta name=rating CONTENT=General>
<meta name=distribution content=Global>
<meta name=revisit-after CONTENT="2 days">

<link href="/style.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css">

<script type="text/javascript">
  var _gaq = _gaq || [];
  _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']);
  _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']);

  (function() {
    var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true;
    ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js';
    var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s);
  })();
</script>

</head>

<body topmargin="0" bottommargin="0" id="mainbody">

<table width="99%" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" class="body">
  <tr> 
    <td valign="bottom" bgcolor="#FF0000"><a href="https://www.imsdb.com" title="The Internet Movie Script Database"><img src="/images/logo_top.gif" border="0"></a></td>
    <td bgcolor="#FF0000">
	<center>
	    <font color="#FFFFFF"><h1>The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb)</h1></font>
</center>
  <tr> 
    <td background="/images/reel.gif" height="13" colspan="2"><a href="https://www.imsdb.com" title="The Internet Movie Script Database"><img src="/images/logo_middle.gif" border="0"></a></td>
  <tr> 
    <td width="170" valign="top" class="smalltxt"> <a href="https://www.imsdb.com" title="The Internet Movie Script Database"><img src="/images/logo_bottom.gif" width="170" border="0"></a> 
      <br>
	<center><span class="smalltxt">The web's largest <br>movie script resource!</span></center>
	</td>
    <td>	
    <script type="text/javascript"><!--
	 e9 = new Object();
     e9.size = "728x90";
     //--></script>
    <script type="text/javascript" src="//tags.expo9.exponential.com/tags/IMSDb/ROS/tags.js"></script>
   </td>
  </tr>
</table>


<br>
<table width="99%" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" class="body">
  <tr> 
   
    <td width="180" valign="top">

<table class=body border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2 width="100%">
<tr> 
          <td colspan="2" class=heading>Search IMSDb<tr>
<form method="post" action="/search.php">
            <td width="180"> <div align="center">
                <input type="text" name="search_query" maxlength="255" size="15">
                <input type="submit" value="Go!" name="submit">
              </div></td>
</form>
</table>

<br>
<table width="100%" border=0 cellpadding=2 cellspacing=0 class=body>
<tr>
<td colspan=9 class=heading>Alphabetical
<tr align="center">
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/0">#</a> 
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/A">A</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/B">B</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/C">C</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/D">D</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/E">E</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/F">F</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/G">G</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/H">H</a><tr align="center"> 
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/I">I</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/J">J</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/K">K</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/L">L</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/M">M</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/N">N</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/O">O</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/P">P</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/Q">Q</a><tr align="center"> 
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/R">R</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/S">S</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/T">T</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/U">U</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/V">V</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/W">W</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/X">X</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/Y">Y</a>
        <td><a href="/alphabetical/Z">Z</a>
</table>
<br>
<table width="100%" border=0 cellpadding=2 cellspacing=0 class=body>
<tr>
<td colspan=3 class=heading>Genre
<tr> 
	<td><a href="/genre/Action">Action</a>
	<td><a href="/genre/Adventure">Adventure</a>
	<td><a href="/genre/Animation">Animation</a><tr>
	<td><a href="/genre/Comedy">Comedy</a>
	<td><a href="/genre/Crime">Crime</a>
	<td><a href="/genre/Drama">Drama</a><tr>
	<td><a href="/genre/Family">Family</a>
	<td><a href="/genre/Fantasy">Fantasy</a>
	<td><a href="/genre/Film-Noir">Film-Noir</a><tr>
	<td><a href="/genre/Horror">Horror</a>
	<td><a href="/genre/Musical">Musical</a>
	<td><a href="/genre/Mystery">Mystery</a><tr>
	<td><a href="/genre/Romance">Romance</a>
	<td><a href="/genre/Sci-Fi">Sci-Fi</a>
	<td><a href="/genre/Short">Short</a><tr>
	<td><a href="/genre/Thriller">Thriller</a>
	<td><a href="/genre/War">War</a>
	<td><a href="/genre/Western">Western</a>
</table>

<br>
<table class=body border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2 width="100%">
<tr> 
 <td colspan="2" class=heading>Sponsor<tr>
 <td width="300" bgcolor="#FFFFFF">
 <script type="text/javascript"><!--
	e9 = new Object();
    e9.size = "300x250";
 //--></script>
 <script type="text/javascript" src="//tags.expo9.exponential.com/tags/IMSDb/ROS/tags.js"></script>
 </td>
</table>


<br>
<table width="100%" border=0 cellpadding=2 cellspacing=0 class=body>
<tr>
<td class=heading>TV Transcripts
<tr> 
	<td><a href="/TV/Futurama.html">Futurama</a><tr>
	<td><a href="/TV/Seinfeld.html">Seinfeld</a><tr>
	<td><a href="/TV/South Park.html">South Park</a><tr>
	<td><a href="/TV/Stargate SG1.html">Stargate SG-1</a><tr>
	<td><a href="/TV/Lost.html">Lost</a><tr>
	<td><a href="/TV/The 4400.html">The 4400</a>
</table>

<br>
<table width="100%" class="body">
<tr>
<td colspan=3 class=heading>International
<tr> 
	<td><a href="/language/French">French scripts</a>
</table>

<br>
<table width="100%" border=0 cellpadding=2 cellspacing=0 class=body>
<tr>
<td class=heading>Movie Software
<tr>
    <td><a href="/out/dvd-ripper"><img src="/images/a/dvd-ripper.jpg" alt="DVD ripper software offer"></a>
<tr>
	<td><a href="/software/rip-from-dvd">Rip from DVD</a>
<tr>
	<td><a href="/software/rip-blu-ray">Rip Blu-Ray</a>
</table>

<br>
<table width="100%" border=0 cellpadding=2 cellspacing=0 class=body>
<tr>
<td colspan=3 class=heading>Latest Comments
<tr>
<td><a href="/Movie Scripts/Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith Script.html">Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith<td>10/10<tr>
<td><a href="/Movie Scripts/Star Wars: The Force Awakens Script.html">Star Wars: The Force Awakens<td>10/10<tr>
<td><a href="/Movie Scripts/Batman Begins Script.html">Batman Begins<td>9/10<tr>
<td><a href="/Movie Scripts/Collateral Script.html">Collateral<td>10/10<tr>
<td><a href="/Movie Scripts/Jackie Brown Script.html">Jackie Brown<td>8/10<tr>
</table>
<br>

<table width="100%" border=0 cellpadding=2 cellspacing=0 class=body>
<tr>
<td class=heading>Movie Chat
<tr> 
<td align="center">
<SCRIPT LANGUAGE="Javascript" TYPE="text/javascript" SRC="https://www.yellbox.com/ybscript_enhanced.js"></SCRIPT>
<iframe class="yellbox" frameborder=0 name="ybframe" height=170 marginwidth=0 marginheight=0 src="https://www.yellbox.com/yellbox.php?name=imsdb">
</iframe>
<form class="yellbox" action="https://www.yellbox.com/addmessage.php" method="post" target="ybframe" name="yellform"> 
 <input type="hidden" name="sub_username" value="imsdb">
 <input class="yellbox" name="sub_name" value="Name" size=21 maxlength=10 onFocus="if(this.value == 'Name')this.value = ''; return;"><br>
 <textarea class="yellbox" cols=15 rows=4 name="sub_message" wrap onFocus="if(this.value == 'Message')this.value = ''; return;">Message</textarea>
 <table><tr><td>
 <button onClick="javascript:makeNewWindow(); return false;"><img src="https://www.yellbox.com/images/smiley.gif" width=16 height=16></button>
 <td><button type="submit" value="Post" onClick="return clearMessageBox();">Yell !</button></table>
</form> 
</table>


<div align="center"><br><br>
      <a href="https://www.imsdb.com/all%20scripts">ALL SCRIPTS</a><br><br>
</div>

<td width="10"></td>
<td valign="top">
<br> <table width="100%"><tr><td class="scrtext">

<pre>
<HTML><HEAD><script>
<b><!--
</b>if (window!= top)
top.location.href=location.href
<b>// -->
</b></script>

<title>" s e x ,  l i e s ,  a n d  v i d e o t a p e " - by Steven Soderbergh  4th Draft
</title>
<b></HEAD>
</b><BODY><pre>	
<b>    
</b>                " s e x ,  l i e s ,  a n d  v i d e o t a p e "
<b>     
</b><b>    
</b><b>     
</b><b>     
</b><b>     
</b><b>          1    EXT. HIGHWAY -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               GRAHAM DALTON, twenty-nine, drives his '69 Cutlass while smoking 
               a cigarette. One could describe his appearance as punk/arty, 
               but neither would do him justice. He is a man of obvious 
               intelligence, and his face is amiable. There is only one key 
               on his keyring, and it is in the ignition.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (voice over)
                         Garbage. I started thinking about 
                         what happens to all the garbage. 
                         I mean, where do we put all of 
                         it, we have to run out of places 
                         to put it eventually, don't we? 
                         This happened to me before when 
                         that barge with all the garbage 
                         was stranded and nobody would take 
                         it? Remember that?
<b>          
</b><b>          2   INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               ANN BISHOP MILLANEY, twenty-six, sits opposite her therapist.
               She is an extremely attractive woman, dressed in a mature preppy 
               style. There is a wedding ring on her left hand.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         Yes, I remember. What do you do 
                         when these moods overtake you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Nothing. I mean, nothing. I try 
                         not to do anything that will 
                         produce garbage, so obviously we're 
                         talking about eating and basic 
                         stuff like that. Did you know that 
                         the average person produces three 
                         pounds of garbage a day?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR 
</b>                         No, I didn't.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Don't you think that's a lot of 
                         garbage? I'd really like to know 
                         where it's all going to go.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         Do you have any idea what triggered 
                         this concern?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Well, this weekend John was taking 
                         out the garbage, and he kept 
                         spilling things out of the 
                         container, and I started imagining 
                         a container that grew garbage, 
                         like it just kept filling up and 
                         overflowing all by itself, and 
                         how could you stop that if it 
                         started happening?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         Ann, do you see a pattern here?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN 
</b>                         What do you mean?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         Well, last week we talked about 
                         your obsession with the families 
                         of airline fatalities, and now 
                         we're talking about your concern 
                         over the garbage problem.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Yeah, so?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         If you think about it, I think 
                         you'll see that the object of your 
                         obsession is invariably something 
                         negative that you couldn't possibly 
                         have any control over.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Well, do you think many people 
                         run around thinking about how happy 
                         they feel and how great things 
                         are? I mean, maybe they do, but 
                         I doubt those people are in 
                         therapy. Besides, being happy isn't 
                         all that great. My figure is always 
                         at its best when I'm depressed. 
                         The last time I was really happy 
                         I put on twenty-five pounds. I 
                         thought John was going to have 
                         a stroke.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (voice over)
                         It's true, I'm telling you.
<b>          
</b><b>          3    INT. LAW OFFICE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               JOHN MILLANEY, twenty-nine, sits at his desk talking on the
               telephone. He is dressed very well, sporting real suspenders 
               with his striped pinpoint oxford shirt and cotton suit. He 
               fingers the wedding ring on his left hand.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         As soon as you've got a ring on 
                         your finger, you start getting 
                         serious attention from the opposite 
                         gender. Seriously, I wish I had 
                         Super Bowl seats for every time 
                         I had some filly just come up 
                         and start talking to me without 
                         the slightest provocation. That 
                         never happened before I got 
                         married. Shit, if I'd known that, 
                         I'd have gone out and bought me 
                         a ring when I was eighteen and 
                         saved myself a lot of time and 
                         money.
<b>          
</b>               John looks at his watch.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Shit, I gotta be someplace.
                              (quickly)
                         Look, racquetball Thursday? You're 
                         the coolest.
<b>          
</b>               John presses the intercom button while putting on his jacket.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Uh, Janet, re-schedule Kirkland. 
                         Tell him to come in Friday at 1:30.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                              (voice over, to Ann) 
                         Are you still keeping these 
                         thoughts from John?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN 
</b>                              (voice over)
                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>          4    INT. LAW OFFICE BATHROOM -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               John brushes his teeth and combs his hair very carefully.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                              (voice over, to Ann)
                         Are you afraid of his reaction? 
                         Of his finding you silly for 
                         thinking of such things?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (voice over)
                         No. I don't know. I haven't told 
                         him about the garbage thing because 
                         I'm pissed off at him right now. 
                         He's letting some old college buddy 
                         stay at our house for a couple 
                         of days, and he didn't even ask 
                         me about it. I mean, I would've 
                         said yes, I just wish he would've 
                         asked.
<b>          
</b><b>          5    INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE-DAY
</b><b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         What upsets you about that?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I guess I'm upset because I can't 
                         really justify being upset, I mean, 
                         it's his house, really, he pays 
                         the mortgage.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         But he asked you to quit your job, 
                         and you do have housework.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN 
</b>                         Yeah, I know.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         This unexpected visit 
                         notwithstanding, how are things 
                         with John?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (shrugs)
                         Fine, I guess. Except right now 
                         I m going through this where I 
                         don't want him to touch me.
<b>          
</b><b>          6    INT. CYNTHIA BISHOP'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               CYNTHIA BISHOP, Ann's SISTER, opens her door to reveal the
               freshly coifed John Millaney. They kiss passionately and begin 
               to disrobe. Cynthia bears a slight resemblance to Ann, but 
               is not as overtly attractive. She does, however, have a definite 
               carnal appeal and air of confidence that Ann lacks.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                              (voice over)
                         When did you begin having this feeling?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (voice over)
                         About a week ago. I don't know 
                         what brought it on, I just started 
                         feeling like I didn't want him 
                         to touch me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                              (voice over, to Ann)
                         Prior to this feeling, were you 
                         comfortable having physical contact 
                         with him?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (voice over)
                         Oh, yeah.
                              (pause)
                         But see, I've never really been 
                         into sex that much, I mean, I like 
                         it and everything, it just does't 
                         freak me out, I wouldn't miss it, 
                         you know? But anyway, lately we 
                         haven't been doing anything at 
                         all. Like I said, it's not that 
                         I miss it, but I m curious the 
                         way things kind of slacked off 
                         all of a sudden.
<b>          
</b>               John and Cynthia are now having sex.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                              (voice over)
                         Perhaps he senses your hesitance 
                         at being touched.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         (voice over)
                         But see, he stopped before I got 
                         that feeling, that's why it seems 
                         weird to me. I mean, I'm sure he 
                         wishes I would initiate things 
                         once in awhile, and I would 
                         except it never occurs to me, I'm 
                         always thinking about something 
                         else and then the few times that I 
                         have felt like starting something 
                         I was by myself.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                              (voice over) 
                         Did you do anything?
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (voice over) 
                         What do you mean?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                              (voice over) 
                         Did you masturbate?
<b>          
</b><b>          7    INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (taken aback) 
                         God, no.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         I take it you've never masturbated?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (slightly uncomfortable) 
                         Well, I kind of tried once. It 
                         just seemed stupid, I kept seeing 
                         myself lying there and it seemed 
                         stupid, and kind of, uh, I don't 
                         know, and then I was wondering 
                         if my dead grandfather could see 
                         me doing this, and it just seemed 
                         like a dumb thing to be doing when 
                         we don't know what to do with all 
                         that garbage, you know?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         So it was recently that you tried 
                         this.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (exhales, head down)
                         Well, kind of recently, I guess. 
                         But not too recently.
<b>          
</b>               There is a pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I'm really not up to having a guest 
                         in the house.
<b>          
</b><b>          8    INT. CYNTHIA BISHOP'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               John and Cynthia are lying in bed, bathed in sweat.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I've got to get back to the office.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I only get one today? Gee, how 
                         exciting.
<b>          
</b>               John rolls over and begins to put his clothes on.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I can't let my lunch hour go on 
                         too long. I've already skipped 
                         one meeting.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Don't give me this 
                         passive/aggressive bullshit. If 
                         you want to leave, leave. My life 
                         doesn't stop when you walk out the 
                         door, you know what I'm saying?
<b>          
</b>               John shakes his head.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Why don't you just tell me how
                         you really feel?
<b>          
</b>               John stands and begins putting on his clothes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I have a friend coming in from 
                         out of town, I'll probably be 
                         spending some time with him the 
                         next couple of days.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Meaning we'll have to cool it for
                         awhile, right?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Right.
<b>          
</b>               A silent shrug from Cynthia. John is almost completely dressed.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I wish you'd quit that bartending
                         job.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Why?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I hate the thought of guys hitting
                         on you all the time.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I can handle it. Besides, the money 
                         is good and some of the guys are 
                         cute. And you are in no position 
                         to be jealous.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Who said I was jealous?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I did.
<b>          
</b>               John says nothing.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         You know, I'd like to try your 
                         house sometime. The idea of doing 
                         it in my sister's bed gives me 
                         a perverse thrill.
<b>          
</b>               John thinks about that.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I wish I could tell everybody that 
                         Ann's a lousy lay. Beautiful, 
                         popular, Ann Bishop Millaney.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Could be risky.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, maybe I could just start 
                         a rumor, then.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         No, I mean doing it at my house.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Afraid of getting caught?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Maybe.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         You should be. Can I meet this 
                         friend of yours?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Cynthia, I don't think you want 
                         to, I mean, you should see the 
                         way he dresses. I really think 
                         he's in a bad way.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA 
</b>                         I'm intrigued.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN 
</b>                         You're intrigued?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Sure. Maybe he's the man I'm 
                         looking for. Then I won't have 
                         to fuck worried husbands all the 
                         time.
<b>          
</b>               John looks at her for a moment before heading for the door.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Bye.
<b>          
</b><b>          9   EXT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Graham has parked in the Millaney's driveway. He opens the 
               trunk, revealing a Sony 8mm Video rig and a single black duffle 
               bag. He grabs the duffle bag and shuts the trunk.
<b>          
</b>               Graham knocks at the door. He is stubbing out a cigarette with 
               his beaten tennis shoe when Ann answers the door. She is unable 
               to hide her suprise at his appearance.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Ann?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Yes?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         (extends his hand) 
                         Graham Dalton.
<b>          
</b>               Ann shakes his hand.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Can I use your bathroom?
<b>          
</b>               Ann withdraws her hand.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Yes. Yes, come in, please.
<b>          
</b>               Graham moves inside.
<b>          
</b><b>          10   INT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Ann closes the door and motions Graham to the rear of the house.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Straight back, first door on the 
                         left.
<b>          
</b>               Graham heads for the bathroom. Ann heads for the phone. She 
               dials John's office.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   VOICE ON PHONE 
</b>                         Forman, Brent, and Millaney.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         John Millaney, please. This is 
                         his wife.
<b>          
</b>               Graham exits the bathroom. Ann quickly hangs up the phone.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN 
</b>                         That was quick.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM 
</b>                         False alarm.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Oh. Well, please sit down.
<b>          
</b>               Graham sits, his manner pleasantly animated. He gets his Gitanes 
               from inside his scuffed black leather jacket and looks around 
               for an ashtray. Ann swallows uncomfortably.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         We...don't usually let people smoke 
                         in the house. We have a patio if you --
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Oh, no problem. It can wait.
<b>          
</b>               A moment of silence. Graham looks at Ann directly. It is not 
               a challenging stare, he's just trying to ascertain what kind 
               of person she is. Ann, to her credit, somehow meets his gaze. 
               Something subtle passes between them.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (looks at duffle bag) 
                         Do you have other things?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes.
                                   (pause)
                         Oh, you mean to bring in! No. Yes, 
                         I have some other things, no, I 
                         don't need to bring them in. This 
                         is all I need to stay here.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Oh.
<b>          
</b>               Graham smiles. He has an unusual face, a face that fluctuates 
               between remarkably handsome and just plain strange.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Have you ever been on television?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Televison?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         No. Why?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (shrugs) 
                         Curious.
<b>          
</b>               The central air-conditioning switches on. Ann smiles.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Graham is an unusual name.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yeah, I guess it is. My mother 
                         is a complete Anglophile, anything 
                         British makes her drool like a 
                         baby. She probably heard the name 
                         in some movie. She's a prisoner 
                         of public television now.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN 
</b>                         Oh, uh-huh.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Are you uncomfortable with my appearance?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (downplaying)
                         No, I think you look...fine.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (smiles)
                         Oh. Well, maybe I'm uncomfortable 
                         with my appearance. I feel a little 
                         out of place in these surroundings.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Well...
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I used to take great pleasure in 
                         that, being purposefully different, 
                         rubbing people's noses in it. 
                         Didn't you do that when you were 
                         younger?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (thinks) 
                         No, not really.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Oh. Well, I did. I was in a band 
                         once, and the music was always 
                         secondary to just flat out 
                         offending as many people as 
                         possible.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You play an instrument?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No, I was in charge of kind of 
                         standing at the microphone and 
                         reciting these really depressing 
                         lyrics in a monotone. The whole 
                         thing was really .... irrelevant. 
                         How do you like being married?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (caught slightly off
                               guard)
                         Oh, I like it. I like it very much.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         What about it do you like? I'm 
                         not being critical, I'd really 
                         like to know.
<b>          
</b><b>                                        ANN
</b>                         Well.....well, the cliché about
                         the security of it, that's really 
                         true. We own a house, and I really 
                         like that, you know? And I like 
                         that John was just made junior 
                         partner, so he has a steady job 
                         and he's not some...
<b>          
</b>               Ann looks at Graham and stops. He smiles again.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         ...free-lance. You know.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes. So you feel security, 
                         stability. Like things are going 
                         to last awhile.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Oh, definitely. I mean, just this 
                         past year has gone by like phew! 
                         I hardly even knew it passed.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Did you know that if you shut 
                         someone up in a room, and the only 
                         clock he has reference to runs 
                         two hours slow for every 
                         twenty-four, that his body will 
                         eventually adjust to that schedule? 
                         Simply because the mind honestly 
                         perceives that twenty-six hours 
                         are twenty-four, the body follows.
                         And then there are sections of time. 
                         Your life can be broken down into 
                         the sections of time that formed 
                         your personality (if you have one). 
                         For instance, when I was twelve,
                         I had an eleven minute conversation 
                         with my father that to this day 
                         defines our relationship. Now, 
                         I'm not saying that everything 
                         happened in that specific section 
                         of time, but the events of my 
                         childhood involving my father led 
                         up to, and then were crystallized 
                         in, that eleven minutes.
<b>          
</b>               Ann is fascinated, if a bit overwhelmed.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN 
</b>                         Oh, uh-huh.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (smiles)
                         Anyway, I think the mind is very 
                         flexible as far as time is 
                         concerned.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You mean like "time flies"?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Exactly. I would say the fact that 
                         you feel the first year of your 
                         marriage has gone by quickly means 
                         lots of things. Or could mean lots 
                         of things.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         How long has it been since you've 
                         seen John?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM 
</b>                         Nine years.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN 
</b>                         Nine years?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes. I was surprised that he 
                         accepted when I asked if I could 
                         stay here until I found a place.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Why? Didn't you know him well?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I knew him very well. We were 
                         extremely close until I dropped 
                         out.
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Why'd you drop out?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Oh, lots of reasons, most of them 
                         boring. But, up until I dropped 
                         out, John and I were...very much 
                         alike.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         That's hard to believe. The two 
                         of you seem so different.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I would imagine that we are, now. 
                         I think I'm ready to use the 
                         bathroom, finally.
<b>          
</b>               Graham gets up and heads for the toilet. Ann watches him go,
               a bemused smile on her face. After she hears the door close, 
               she can't resist the impulse to take a closer look at Graham's 
               bag.
<b>          
</b>               IN THE BATHROOM, Graham pokes around, looking through the 
               medicine cabinet and sniffing towels.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (voice over) 
                         Call the cops.
<b>          
</b><b>          11   INT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- NIGHT
</b><b>          
</b>               John, Ann and Graham are eating dinner.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (to Graham)
                         That's the first thing that ran 
                         through my mind when I saw you. 
                         I thought this is not the same 
                         man that rode the unicycle naked 
                         through the homecoming parade.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (to Graham) 
                         You did that?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM 
</b>                         Everybody has a past.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (smiles at Graham)
                         What do you think the Greeks would 
                         make of that outfit you're wearing?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         A bonfire, probably.
<b>          
</b>               John takes a sip of Chivas.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (to Ann)
                         This food is excellent.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Thank you.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Yeah, it's not bad. Usually Ann 
                         has some serious salt action going. 
                         I keep telling her, you can always 
                         add more if you want, but you can't 
                         take it out.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (to Ann)
                         You have family here also?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (nods, chewing) 
                         Mother, father, sister.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Sister older or younger?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Younger.
<b>          
</b>               John takes a large swig of Chivas.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Are you close?
<b>          
</b>               Graham sees Ann and John exchange looks.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I'm sorry. Am I prying again?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         You were prying before?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes, this afternoon. I was grilling 
                         Ann about your marriage this 
                         afternoon.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (smiles)
                         Really. How'd it go?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         She held up very well.
<b>          
</b>               Ann laughs.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (to Ann)
                         So I was asking about your sister.
<b>          
</b>               Ann's smile fades. John resumes eating.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Oh, we get along okay. She's just 
                         very...she's an extrovert. I think 
                         she's loud. She probably wouldn't 
                         agree. Definitely wouldn't agree.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (to Graham)
                         Are you going to see Elizabeth 
                         while you re here?
<b>          
</b>               An almost imperceptible reaction by Graham.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I don't know.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (interested)
                         Who's Elizabeth?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Girl Graham dated. Still lives 
                         here, far as I know.
<b>          
</b>               Graham eats in silence.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Graham and I were talking about 
                         apartments and I told him to check 
                         the Garden District, there are 
                         some nice little places there, 
                         garage apartments and stuff.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (to Graham)
                         Stay away from the Garden District. 
                         Serious crime. I don't know what 
                         kind of place you're looking for, 
                         but there are a lot of studio-type 
                         apartments available elsewhere.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I wish I didn't have to live 
                         someplace.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (laughs) 
                         What do you mean?
<b>          
</b>               Graham thinks a moment, then puts his keyring with its single 
               key onto the table.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Well, see, right now I have this 
                         one key, and I really like that. 
                         Everything I own is in my car. 
                         If I get an apartment, that's two 
                         keys. If I get a job, maybe I 
                         have to open and close once in 
                         awhile, that's more keys. Or I 
                         buy some stuff and I m worried 
                         about getting ripped off, so I 
                         get some locks, and that's more 
                         keys. I just really like having 
                         the one key. It's clean, you know?
<b>          
</b>               Graham looks at the keyring before returning it to his pocket.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Get rid of the car when you get 
                         your apartment, then you'll still 
                         have one key.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I like having the car, the car 
                         is important.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Especially if you want to leave 
                         someplace in a hurry.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Or go someplace in a hurry.
<b>          
</b>               Ann takes her plate into the kitchen.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (smiles at Graham) 
                         Do you pay taxes?
<b>          
</b>               Graham also stands, empty plate in hand.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Do I pay taxes? Of course I pay 
                         taxes, only a liar doesn't pay 
                         taxes, I'm not a liar. A liar is 
                         the second lowest form of human 
                         being.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (from the kitchen) 
                         What's the first?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Lawyers.
<b>          
</b>               John smiles, thinking. Graham follows Ann into the kitchen. 
               John shouts after them.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Hey, Ann, why don't you go with 
                         Graham to hunt for apartments? 
                         Show him how the city has changed.
<b>          
</b>               Ann looks at Graham.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN 
</b>                         Would you mind?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (shouts back to John) 
                         Okay, I will!!
<b>          
</b>               John, sitting at the table and now toying with his keyring, 
               nods.
<b>          
</b><b>          12   INT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- NIGHT
</b><b>          
</b>               Everyone but Ann is asleep. She gets up from her bed and sneaks 
               quietly into the guest bedroom where Graham is staying. She 
               walks cautiously up to his bed to watch him as he sleeps. 
               Moonlight caresses his face as he breathes peacefully. Exhaling, 
               he turns over slowly, his back to Ann.
<b>          
</b>               She picks up his jacket from beside the bed and feels the 
               surface. She brings the jacket to her nose, inhaling his 
               presence. She then sets the jacket down.
<b>          
</b><b>          13   INT. CYNTHIA BISHOP'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               The phone rings. Cynthia answers.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Hello.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Cynthia. John. Meet me at my house 
                         in exactly one hour.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         You are scum. I'll be there.
<b>          
</b><b>          14   INT. VACANT APARTMENT-DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Graham and Ann walk around the room, their footfalls heavy on 
               the hardwood floors. MR. MILLER, the landlord, stands nearby. 
               He looks fairly interested in Ann.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   MR. MILLER
</b>                         Plenty of room for two people.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM 
</b>                         It'll just be me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   MR. MILLER
</b>                         Student?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No.
                                   (pause)
                         You said three-fifty?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   MR. MILLER
</b>                         Plus first and last month deposit.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Will you lease month-to-month?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   MR. MILLER
</b>                         Not for three-fifty.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         How about for five hundred?
<b>          
</b>               Mr. Miller looks at Ann, then back at Graham.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   MR. MILLER
</b>                         That I can do.
<b>          
</b><b>          15   INT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Cynthia lets herself in. She looks around.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         John?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (offscreen)
                         In here!!
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia walks to the bedroom, where John lies naked on the bed.
               She smiles, kicking off her shoes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Ain't you a picture.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia begins taking her clothes off. She places her diamond
               stud earring in her jacket pocket, and then drops the jacket
               on the floor. She moves onto the bed with John.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (voice over)
                         Maybe you'll understand this,
                         because you know John, but he
                         confuses me sometimes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (voice over)
                         How do you mean?
<b>          
</b><b>          16   INT. CAFÉ - DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Graham and Ann are having lunch. Ann looks to have had a lot
               of wine. Graham drinks club soda with a twist.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         It's hard to explain. It's like...
                         John treats everybody the same,
                         you know? I mean, he acts just
                         as excited about seeing somebody
                         he hardly knows as he does when
                         he sees me. And so I feel like,
                         what's different about me, if I'm
                         treated exactly the same as some
                         acquaintance? If I don't like
                         somebody, I don't act like I do.
                         I guess that's why a lot of people
                         think I'm a bitch.
<b>          
</b>               She takes a sip of wine.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yeah, I know. I mean, I'm not
                         saying I know people think you're
                         a bitch, I'm saying I know what
                         you mean. And I don't even know
                         that people think you're a bitch.
                         Do they?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I feel like they do.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Hmm. Well, maybe you are. Really,
                         I wouldn't pay much attention.
<b>          
</b>               Ann smiles.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I know that I just don't feel a
                         connection with very many people,
                         so I don't waste time with people
                         I don't feel one with.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Right, right. I don't feel
                         connected to many people, either.
                         Other than John.
<b>          
</b>               Graham nods.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Can I tell you something personal?
                         I feel like I can. It's something
                         I couldn't tell John. Or wouldn't,
                         anyway.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         It's up to you. But I warn you,
                         if you tell me something personal,
                         I might do the same.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Okay. I think...I think sex is
                         overrated. I think people place
                         way too much importance on it.
                         And I think that stuff about women
                         wanting it just as bad is crap.
                         I m not saying women don't want
                         it, I just don't think they want
                         it for the reason men think they
                         do.
                              (smiles)
                         I'm getting confused.
<b>          
</b>               Graham smiles.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Do you understand what I'm trying
                         to say?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I think so. I remember reading
                         somewhere that men learn to love
                         what they're attracted to, whereas
                         women become more and more
                         attracted to the person they love.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Yes! Yes! I think that's very true.
                         Very.
<b>          
</b>               Graham watches Ann take a sip of wine.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         So what about kids?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Kids? What about them?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Do you want them?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Yeah, actually, I do. But John
                         doesn't. At least not right now.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Why is that?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I don't know, he just said he wants
                         to wait. I quit asking.
<b>          
</b>               Graham nods.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         So what's your personal thing?
                         Are you really going to tell me
                         something personal?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Do you want me to?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         As long as it's not...gross, you
                         know? Like some scar or something.
                         It has to be like mine, like
                         something about you.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Agreed.
<b>          
</b>               Graham takes a sip of club soda.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I'm impotent.
<b>          
</b>               Ann looks at him closely.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You're what?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Impotent.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You are?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Well, let me put it this way: I
                         cannot achieve an erection while
                         in the presence of another person.
                         So, for all practical purposes,
                         I am impotent.
<b>          
</b>          Ann takes a large sip of wine. Graham lights a cigarette.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Does it bother you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (exhales)
                         Not usually. I mean, honestly,
                         I haven't known many guys that
                         could think straight with an
                         erection, so I feel I'm way ahead
                         of the game as far as being
                         clear-headed goes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Well...are you self-conscious about
                         it?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I am self-conscious, but not in
                         the same way that you are. You
                         have got to be the most attractive
                         self-conscious person I've ever
                         seen.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Why do you say I'm self-conscious?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Well, I've been watching you. I've
                         watched you eat, I've watched you
                         speak, I've watched the way you
                         move, and I see somebody who is
                         extremely conscious of being looked
                         at. I think you really believe
                         that people are looking at you
                         all the time. And you know what?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         They are looking at you. Ann, you
                         are truly breathtaking. I don't
                         know if you understand how your
                         appearance can affect people. Men
                         want to possess you, women wish
                         they looked like you. And those
                         that don't or can't resent you.
                         And the fact that you're a nice
                         person just makes it worse.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (thinks)
                         My therapist said that--
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         You're in therapy?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Aren't you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Hah! No, I'm not. Actually, I used
                         to be, but the therapist I had
                         was really ineffectual in helping
                         me deal with my problems. Of
                         course, I lied to him constantly,
                         so I guess I can't hold him totally
                         responsible...
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         So you don't believe in therapy?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I believe in it for some people.
                         I mean, for me it was silly, I
                         was confused going in. So I just
                         formed my own personal theory that
                         you should never take advice from
                         someone of the opposite sex that
                         doesn't know you intimately.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Well, my therapist knows me
                         intimately.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (surprised)
                         You had sex with you therapist?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Of course not.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Oh, see, I meant someone you've
                         had sex with. That's part of the
                         theory.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Excuse me for asking, but how would
                         you know?
<b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (smiles)
                         Well, I wasn't always impotent.
<b>          
</b>               Ann takes another sip of wine and thinks for a moment.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Now, you said never take advice
                         from someone that you don't know
                         intimately, right?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Basically, yes.
<b>          
</b><b>          17   INT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Cynthia is leaving the house. She gives John a big kiss.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (voice over)
                         So since I've never had sex with
                         you, by your own advice I shouldn't
                         accept your advice.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (voice over)
                         That's correct.
                              (pause)
                         Bit of a dilemma, isn't it?
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia is not wearing her diamond stud earring.
<b>          
</b><b>          18   INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Well, I don't know. The week
                         started off okay, but then I was
                         outside watering the plants, and
                         I started feeling dizzy from the
                         heat and that got me thinking about
                         the Greenhouse Effect, so I went
                         inside and turned on the
                         air-conditioner full blast, and
                         that made me feel a little better
                         until I started thinking about
                         radon leakage coming up through
                         the floor, and--
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         Radon leakage?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Yes, it's this radioactive gas
                         in the ground, and houses kind
                         of act like magnets to pull it
                         up, and--you've never heard of
                         this?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         No, I haven't.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Well, the cumulative effect is
                         not good, let me tell you.
                              (pause)
                         I knew I shouldn't have watered
                         those plants.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         Did you confront John about the
                         visitor?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What visitor?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         The friend of John's that was
                         staying at your house.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Oh, Graham. No, I didn't talk to
                         him about that. Actually, that
                         turned out to be pretty
                         interesting. I expected Graham
                         to be this...well, like John, you
                         know? I mean, he said they had
                         gone to school together, so I was
                         expecting lots of stories about
                         getting drunk and secret handshakes
                         and stuff. But he turned out to
                         be this...this kind of character,
                         I mean, he's kind of arty but okay,
                         you know?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         Is he still at your house?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         No, he left last week.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         Did you find him attractive?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What do you mean, like physically?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         Let me rephrase. Were you attracted
                         to him?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (thinks)
                         I guess, but not because of the
                         way he looked or anything. He's
                         just so different, somebody new
                         to have a conversation with. I'm
                         just tired of talking to other
                         couples about whether or not
                         they're going to buy the station
                         wagon, you know? It's just boring.
                         I don't know, he was just
                         different. And he's really on about
                         truth a lot, being honest, and
                         I like that, I felt comfortable
                         around him.
                              (pause)
                         After he left I had a dream that
                         he signed a lease to rent our guest
                         room.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (voice over)
                         So where's he from?
<b>          
</b><b>          19   INT. CYNTHIA BISHOP'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Ann stands watching Cynthia get dressed for work.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I don't know. He went to school
                         here, then he was in New York for
                         awhile, then Philadelphia, and
                         then just kind of travelling
                         around.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Must be nice. So, what's he like,
                         is he like John?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         No, not at all. Actually, I don't
                         think John likes him much anymore.
                         He said he thought Graham had
                         gotten strange.
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Is he? Strange, I mean?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Not really. Maybe if I just saw
                         him on the street I'd have said
                         that, but after talking to
                         him...he's just kind of...I don't
                         know, unusual.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Uh-huh. So what's he look like?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Why?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I just want to know what he looks
                         like, is all.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Why, so you can go after him?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Jesus, Ann, get a life. I just
                         asked what he looked like.
<b>          
</b>               Ann says nothing.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Besides, even if I decided to fuck
                         his brains out, what business is
                         that of yours?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Do you have to say that?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         What?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You know what. You say it just
                         to irritate me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I say it because it's descriptive.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Well, he doesn't strike me as the
                         kind of person that would go in
                         for that sort of thing, anyway.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Ann, you always underestimate me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Well, I wonder why.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I think you're afraid to put the
                         two of us in the same room
                         together. I think you're afraid
                         he'll be undeniably drawn to me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Oh, for God's sake. Really,
                         Cynthia, really, I don't think
                         he's your type.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         "My type"? What is this bullshit?
                         How would you know what "my type"
                         is?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I have a pretty good idea.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Ann, you don't have a clue. Look,
                         I don't even know why we're
                         discussing this, I'll just call
                         him myself.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         He doesn't have a phone.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, I'll call him when he does.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         But he won't.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         What are you talking about?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         He's not getting a phone, he
                         doesn't like talking on the phone.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Oh, please. Okay,' so give me the
                         Zen master's address, I'll think
                         of a reason to stop by.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Let me talk to him first.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Why? Just give me the address,
                         you won't even have to be involved.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I don't feel right just giving
                         you the address so that you can
                         go over there and...
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         And what?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         And...do whatever it is you do.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia laughs loudly. Ann, not happy, watches her dig through
               the jewelry box.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Lose something?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         That goddam diamond stud earring
                         that cost me a fucking fortune.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Are you getting Mom something for
                         her birthday?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I don't know, I'll get her a card
                         or something.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         A card? For her fiftieth birthday?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         What's wrong with that?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Don't you think she deserves a
                         little more than a card? I mean,
                         the woman gave birth to you. It s
                         her fiftieth birthday--
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Will you stop? Jesus.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I just thought it might--
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Okay, Ann, okay. How about this:
                         you buy her something nice, and
                         I'll pay for half. All right?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Fine.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Good. Now, if you'll pardon me,
                         I have to go to work.
<b>          
</b><b>          20   INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I was thinking maybe I shouldn't
                         be in therapy anymore.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         What brought this on?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I've been thinking about it for
                         awhile, and then I was talking
                         to somebody who kind of put things
                         in perspective for me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                              (smiles)
                         I thought that's what I did. Who
                         was it that you talked to?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         That guy Graham I told you about.
                         He said taking advice from someone
                         you don't know intimately
                         was...well, he said a lot of stuff.
<b>          
</b>               The Doctor exhales, thinking for a moment.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         Ann, in life one has to be aware
                         of hidden agendas.
                              (pause)
                         Did it occur to you that Graham
                         may have his own reasons for not
                         wanting you to be in therapy?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What do you mean? I don't
                         understand.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         It's possible that Graham has
                         hidden motives for disliking
                         therapy and/or therapists. Perhaps
                         he has problems of his own that
                         he is unwilling to deal with, and
                         he would like to see other people,
                         you for instance, wallow in their
                         situation just as he does. Do you
                         think that's possible?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I guess.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         You understand that you are free
                         to leave therapy at any time?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         That you are under no obligation
                         to me?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         Do you want to leave therapy?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Not really.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         Do you feel there is more progress
                         to be made?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         I'm glad you feel that way, because
                         I feel that way, too.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         But you don't have hidden motives
                         for feeling that way, right?
<b>          
</b>               The Doctor laughs. Ann does not laugh with him.
<b>          
</b><b>          21   INT. GRAHAM'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               On a television monitor we see images originating from an 8mm
               Video deck. Graham sits naked in a sheet-covered chair facing
               the screen. He watches the tape, which is footage of himself
               interviewing a girl about her sexual preferences. The
               photography on the tape is handheld, relentless. As the
               questions get more detailed, Graham becomes more aroused.
<b>          
</b>               There is a knock on Graham's door. He calmly shuts off the
               videotape player and stands, wrapping the sheet around himself.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         It's open.
<b>          
</b>               Graham walks into the bedroom to put on some clothes. Ann opens
               the door and walks into the apartment.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Hi!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (off)
                         Ann. Hello.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Are you in the middle of something?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (off)
                         Nothing I can't finish later.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (looks)
                         I just wanted to see how the place
                         looked furnished.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (Off)
                         Not much to see, I'm afraid. I'm
                         sort of cultivating a minimalist
                         vibe.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Somehow I imagined books. I thought
                         you would have like a whole lot
                         of books and be reading all the
                         time.
<b>          
</b>               Graham enters.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I do read a lot. But I check
                         everything out of the library.
<b>          
</b>               Graham picks up an Anais Nin diary and opens it to show Ann
               the library sleeve inside.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Cheaper that way. And cuts down
                         on the clutter.
<b>          
</b>               Ann walks to the table where the video gear is set up. Graham
               watches her closely. She looks into a large box of 8mm
               videotapes. On the side of each tape is a label. The labels
               look like this:
<b>          
</b><b>                         DONNA / 11 DEC 86 / 1:07:36
</b><b>          
</b>               And so on. There are thirty or forty tapes, total.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What are these?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Videotapes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (smiles)
                         I can see that. What are they?
<b>          
</b>               Graham exhales.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         It's a personal project I'm working
                         on.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What kind of personal project?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Oh, just a personal project like
                         anyone else's personal project.
                         Mine's just a little more personal.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Who's Donna?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Donna?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Donna. On this tape it says
                         "Donna".
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (thinking)
                         Donna was a girl I knew in Florida.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You went out with her?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Not really.
<b>          
</b>               Ann looks in the box again.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         How come all these are girl's
                         names?
<b>          
</b>               Graham thinks for a moment.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Because I enjoy interviewing women
                         more than men.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         All of these are interviews?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Can we look at one?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Why not?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Because I promised each subject
                         that no one would look at the tape
                         except me.
<b>          
</b>               Ann looks at Graham for a long moment, then back at the tapes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What...what are these interviews
                         about?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         The...interviews are about sex,
                         Ann.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         About sex?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What about sex?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Everything about sex.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Like what?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Like what they've done, what they
                         do, what they don't do, what they
                         want to do but are afraid to ask
                         for, what they won't do even if
                         asked. Anything I can think of.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You just ask them questions?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         And they just answer them?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Mostly. Sometimes they do things.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         To you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No, not to me, for me, for the
                         camera.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (stunned)
                         I don't ...why...why do you do
                         this?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I'm sorry this came up.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         This is just...so...
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Maybe you want to go.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Yes, I do.
<b>          
</b>               Ann nods and absently heads for the door. She gives Graham a
               puzzled look before leaving.
<b>          
</b><b>          22   INT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Ann is talking to Cynthia on the telephone.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (still shaken)
                         I don't...he doesn't want you to
                         come over.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         What do you mean he doesn't want
                         me to come over? Did you tell him
                         about me?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         No, I didn't.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Why not?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Because I never got around to it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, why?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Because. Cynthia, look, John was
                         right. Graham is strange. Very
                         strange. You don't want to get
                         involved with him.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         What the hell happened over there?
                         Did he make a pass at you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         No!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Then what's the story, what's this
                         "strange" bullshit all of a sudden?
                         Is he drowning puppies, or what?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         No, it's nothing like that.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, what? Is he dangerous?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         No, he's not dangerous. Not
                         physically.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, what, then?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I don't want to talk about it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Then why'd you call me?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I don't know.
<b>          
</b>               Ann hangs up.
<b>          
</b><b>          23   INT. CYNTHIA BISHOP'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Cynthia gets out of the shower. The phone rings. She wraps
               herself in a towel and lifts the receiver.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Hello.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Cynthia. John.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Not today. I've got other plans.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Oh.
                              (pause)
                         Well, when, then?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         How about inviting me over to
                         dinner?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         You know what I mean.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Yeah, I know what you mean.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia hangs up the phone.
<b>          
</b><b>          24   INT. GRAHAM'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Graham sits smoking a cigarette. There is a knock at his door.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         It's open.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia enters. Graham looks up at her.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Who are you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I'm Cynthia Bishop.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Do I know you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I'm Ann Millaney's sister.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         The extrovert.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (smiles)
                         She must have been in a good mood
                         when she said that. She usually
                         calls me loud.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         She called you that, too. May I
                         ask why you re here?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         You want me to leave?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I just want to know why you're
                         here.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, like I said, Ann is my
                         sister. Sisters talk. You can
                         imagine the rest.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No, I really can't. I find it
                         healthy never to characterize
                         people I don't know or
                         conversations I haven't heard.
                         I don't know what you and your
                         sister discussed about me or
                         anything else. Last time I saw
                         Ann she left here very...confused,
                         I would say. And upset.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         She still is.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         And are you here to berate me for
                         making her that way?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Nope.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         She didn't tell you why she was
                         upset?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Nope.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         She didn't give you my address?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Nope.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         How did you find me?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I, uh, know a guy at the power
                         company.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I don't understand. Why did you
                         want to come here? I mean, I can't
                         imagine Ann painted a very
                         flattering portrait of me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, I don't really listen to
                         her when it comes to men. I mean,
                         look at John, for crissake. Oh,
                         you went to school with him didn't
                         you? You're probably friends or
                         something.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Nope. I think the man is a liar.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (smiles)
                         I think you're right. So come on,
                         I came all the way over here to
                         find out what got Ann so spooked,
                         tell me what happened.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (smiles)
                         Spooked.
<b>          
</b>               He motions to the box of videotapes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         That box of tapes is what got Ann
                         so "spooked".
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia goes over to the box and looks inside for a long moment,
               studying the labels.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Oh, okay. I think I get it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         What do you get?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, they must be something
                         sexual, because Ann gets freaked
                         out by that shit. Are these tapes
                         of you having sex with these girls
                         or something?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Not exactly.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, either you are or you aren't.
                         Which is it?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Why don't you let me tape you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Doing what?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Talking.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         About what?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Sex. Your sexual history, your
                         sexual preferences.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         What makes you think I'd discuss
                         that with you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Nothing.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         You just want to ask me questions?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I just want to ask you questions.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         And that's all?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         That's all.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (a crooked smile)
                         Is this how you get off or
                         something? Taping women talking
                         about their sexual experiences?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Would anybody else see the tape?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Absolutely not. They are for my
                         private use only.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         How do we start?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I turn on the camera. You start
                         talking.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         And you ask questions, right?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         How long will it take?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         That depends on you. One woman
                         only used three minutes. Another
                         filled up three two hour tapes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Can I see some of the other tapes
                         to get an idea of what--
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (thinks)
                         Do I sit or stand?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Whichever you prefer.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I'd rather sit. Are you ready?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Just a moment.
<b>          
</b>               Graham grabs his 8mm Video camera, puts in a new tape, and turns
               it on.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I am now recording. Tell me your
                         name.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Cynthia Patrice Bishop.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Describe for me your first sexual
                         experience.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         My first sexual experience or the
                         first time I had intercourse?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Your first sexual experience.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (thinks)
                         I was...eight years old. Michael
                         Green, who was also eight, asked
                         if he could watch me take a pee.
                         I said he could if I could watch
                         him take one, too. He said okay,
                         and then we went into the woods
                         behind our house. I got this
                         feeling he was chickening out
                         because he kept saying, "Ladies
                         first!" So I pulled down my
                         underpants and urinated, and he
                         ran away before I even finished.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Was it ever a topic of conversation
                         between the two of you afterward?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         No. He kind of avoided me for the
                         rest of the summer, and then his
                         family moved away. To Cleveland,
                         actually.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         How unfortunate. So when did you
                         finally get to see a penis?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         When I was fourteen.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Live, or in a photograph or film
                         of some sort?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Very much live.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         What did you think? Did it look
                         like you expected?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Not really. I didn't picture it
                         with veins or ridges or anything,
                         I thought it would be smooth, like
                         a test tube.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Were you disappointed?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         No. If anything, after I looked
                         at it awhile, it got more
                         interesting. It had character,
                         you know?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         What about when you touched it?
                         What did you expect it to feel
                         like, and then what did it really
                         feel like?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         It was warmer than I thought it
                         would be, and the skin was softer
                         than it looked. It's weird.
                         Thinking about it now, the organ
                         itself seemed like a separate
                         thing, a separate entity to me.
                         I mean, after he pulled it out
                         and I could look at it and touch
                         it, I completely forgot that there
                         was a guy attached to it. I
                         remember literally being startled
                         when the guy spoke to me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         What did he say?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         He said that my hand felt good.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Then what happened?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Then I started moving my hand,
                         and then he stopped talking.
<b>          
</b><b>          25   INT. GRAHAM'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Cynthia, adjusting her clothes, opens the door to leave. She
               looks very aroused. She and Graham do not speak or touch.
<b>          
</b><b>          26   INT. LAW OFFICES -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               John Millaney picks up a telephone and presses a blinking
               button.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         John Millaney.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I want to see you.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         When?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Right now.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Jesus, I don't know if I can get
                         away. I've got a client waiting.
                         I'd have to do some heavy duty
                         juggling.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Then get those balls in the air
                         and get your butt over here.
<b>          
</b>               She hangs up. John thinks a moment, then hits his intercom
               button.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Janet, re-schedule Kirkland, see
                         if he can come in Friday. Smooth
                         things out, tell him an emergency
                         came up. I'll slip out the back.
<b>          
</b><b>          27   INT. GRAHAM'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Graham watches Cynthia's tape, becoming excited.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (voice on tape)
                         Would you like me to take my pants
                         off?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (voice on tape)
                         If you wish.
                              (pause)
                         You're not wearing any underwear.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (voice on tape)
                         Do you like the way I look?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (voice on tape)
                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (voice On tape)
                         Do you think I'm pretty?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (voice on tape)
                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (voice on tape)
                         Prettier than Ann?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (voice on tape)
                         Different.
<b>          
</b><b>          28   INT. CYNTHIA BISHOP'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Cynthia and John are having sex.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (to Graham, voice on
                               tape)
                         John doesn't have sex with Ann
                         anymore.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (voice On tape)
                         Is that what he tells you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (voice on tape)
                         He doesn't have to tell me.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia has an intense orgasm. She rolls off of John, sweating.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Jesus Christ. You are on fire
                         today.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia smiles.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Yes. You can go now.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                              (voice over)
                         If you won't talk to me, I can't
                         help you.
<b>          
</b>               A moment of silence. John is starting to put his clothes on.
               Cynthia lies in bed, her eyes closed, her face serene.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (voice over)
                         I hate my sister.
<b>          
</b><b>          29   INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                         Why?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (rambling)
                         Because all she thinks about are
                         these guys she's after and I just
                         hate her she's such a little slut
                         I thought that in high school and
                         I think that now. Why do people 
                         have to be so obsessed with sex all 
                         what's the big damn deal? I mean,
                         it's okay and everything, but I
                         don't understand when people let
                         it control them, control their
                         lives, why do they do that?
<b>          
</b><b>          30   INT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- NIGHT
</b><b>          
</b>               Ann lies awake in bed beside John, who is sound asleep.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DOCTOR
</b>                              (voice over)
                         There are many things that can
                         exert control over one's life,
                         good and bad. Religion, greed,
                         philanthropy, drugs.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (voice over)
                         I know, but this...I just feel
                         like everybody I know right now
                         is obsessed with sex.
<b>          
</b>               Ann looks over at John. She slowly reaches under the covers
               and grasps his penis. Without waking, he rolls over and turns
               his back to her. She returns to looking at the ceiling.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         (voice over)
                         Except John, I guess.
<b>          
</b><b>          31   INT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Ann is talking to Cynthia on the phone. Ann looks very morose.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         He just asked me questions.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What kinds of questions?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Questions about sex.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Well, like what did he ask,
                         exactly?
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, like, I don't want to tell
                         you, exactly.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Oh, so you'll let a total stranger
                         record your sexual life on tape,
                         but you won't tell your own sister?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Apparently.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Did he ask you to take your clothes
                         off?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYTNHIA
</b>                         Did he ask me to take my clothes
                         off? No, he didn't.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Did you take your clothes off?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Yes, I did.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (floored)
                         Cynthia!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         What!?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Why did you do that?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Because I wanted to.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         But why did you want to?
<b>          
</b><b>                              CYNTHIA
</b>                         I wanted him to see me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Cynthia, who knows where that tape
                         may end up? He could be...bouncing
                         it off some satellite or something.
                         Some horny old men in South America
                         or something could be watching
                         it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         He wouldn't do that.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You don't know that for sure.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, it's too late now, isn't
                         it?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Did he touch you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         No, but I did.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You touched him?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYTNHIA
</b>                         No, I touched me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Wait a minute. Do you mean...don't
                         tell me you...in front of him.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         In front of him, Ann, yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                              ANN
</b>                              (serious)
                         You are in trouble.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (laughs)
                         Listen to you!! You sound like
                         Mom. What are you talking about?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (outraged)
                         I can t believe you did that!!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Why?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I mean, I couldn't do that in front
                         of John, even.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         You couldn't do it, period.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You know what I mean, you don't
                         even know him!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I feel like I do.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         That doesn't mean you do. You can't
                         possibly trust him, 
                         he's...perverted.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         He's harmless. He just sits around
                         and looks at these tapes. What's
                         the big deal?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         So he's got this catalogue of women
                         touching themselves? That doesn't
                         make you feel weird?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         No. I don't think they all did
                         what I did.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You are in serious trouble.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Ann, I don't understand why this
                         freaks you out so much. You didn't
                         do it, I did, and if it doesn't
                         bother me, why should it bother
                         you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I don't want to discuss it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Then why do you keep asking about
                         it?
<b>          
</b><b>          32   INT. LOUNGE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               A sparse daytime crowd. Cynthia serves a beer to some DUDE.
               He puts the money down on the bar and looks at her.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DUDE
</b>                              (as Marlon Brando)
                         Are you an assassin?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYTNHIA
</b>                         Excuse me?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DUDE
</b>                              (still Brando)
                         You're an errand boy...sent by
                         grocery clerks...to collect a bill.
<b>          
</b>               Ann enters the lounge, carrying a package.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DUDE
</b>                              (to Cynthia)
                         Brando, it's Brando, come on.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         It's great. Pardon me.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia moves down the bar to meet Ann.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I wish you'd get an answering
                         machine.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYTNHIA
</b>                         There's a phone here.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         It was busy.
<b>          
</b>               Ann opens the package, revealing a lovely sun dress.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Here it is.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         What is it?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         It's a sun dress.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         It looks like a tablecloth.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         It does not.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYTNHIA
</b>                         Well, why would she want a sun
                         dress? She's got spots on her
                         shoulders and varicose veins.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         So will you, someday.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Yeah, and when I do, I won't be
                         wearing sun dresses.
<b>          
</b>               The lounge phone rings.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I was just trying to--
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Hold on.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia walks to the other end of the bar to answer the phone.
               The Dude watches her pass. Then he turns to Ann and gives her
               the once-over. He spots the present.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DUDE
</b>                         Nice dress.
<b>          
</b>               Ann says nothing.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DUDE
</b>                         Wanna hear my Walter Matthau?
                         You'll love this.
                              (as Matthau)
                         "Feeelix, what are you, craaazee?"
                              (back to normal)
                         Pretty good, huh?
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia picks up the phone.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Hello.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Cynthia. John.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, this is timely. Your wife
                         is here, would you like to speak
                         to her?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         She's there? What's she doing
                         there?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYTNHIA
</b>                         She came by to show me a present
                         that she and I are buying for your
                         mother-in-law.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Oh. When can I see you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I don't know. I'm not sure I can
                         duplicate the level of intensity
                         I had the other day.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Nothing wrong with trying.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I don't think my sister would
                         agree.
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Do you want me to stop calling?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Look, I'll call you, okay?
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia hangs up and walks back to Ann.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         So what's my share of the dress?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Thirty-two dollars.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia pulls thirty-five bucks out of her jeans. She watches
               Ann put the money away.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Look, don't worry about the dress,
                         I'm sure she'll love it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DUDE
</b>                              (to Ann and Cynthia)
                         Hey!! How about Tom Brokaw? Nobody
                         does Brokaw.
                              (as Tom Brokaw)
                         "In Iran today..."
<b>          
</b><b>          33   SCENE DELETED
</b><b>          
</b><b>          34   INT. GRAHAM'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Graham sits reading a book. There is a knock at his door.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         It s open.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia enters the room, looking very intent on something.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Hello.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Hi.
<b>          
</b>               Graham sets his book down. He looks at her for a moment, then
               drags on his cigarette.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Look, I'm just going to come right
                         out and tell you why I'm here,
                         okay?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Okay.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I'd like to make another tape.
<b>          
</b>               Graham thinks for a moment.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         No? Not even one more?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I never do more than one. I'm
                         sorry.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I can't talk you into it?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No. You'll have to get somebody
                         else.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Now who the hell is going to do
                         that for me?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I'm sure a substantial number of
                         men in this town would volunteer.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         But I want you to do it, I want
                         somebody who will ask the right
                         questions and everything, somebody
                         I can play to and feel safe because
                         you can't do anything.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Ouch. Okay, I deserved that.
                         Cynthia, don't you understand?
                         After the first time it's just
                         not spontaneous. There's no edge
                         anymore. Look at the tapes, there
                         is only one date on each label.
                         I have never taped anyone twice.
<b>          
</b><b>                              CYNTHIA
</b>                         So make an exception.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         How about if you record over the
                         one we already made? You could
                         have the same date and not use
                         another tape. Who would know?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I would.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, what the hell am I supposed
                         to do?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Cynthia, I don't know.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I can't believe you're doing this
                         after I let you tape me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I'm sorry. I can't do it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Goddamit, give me my tape, then.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia heads for the tape box. Graham leaps up to stop her.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (digging through the
                              box)
                         It's my fucking tape, you asshole--
<b>          
</b>               Graham grabs her wrists momentarily.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (heated)
                         No!! I told you what the parameters
                         were and you agreed. It's my tape.
                         I look at it, I touch it, nobody
                         else.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia and Graham look at each other for a long moment.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Please go, I'd like you to go now.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia looks at him.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Sure, okay.
<b>          
</b>               She leaves.
<b>          
</b><b>          35   INT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- NIGHT
</b><b>          
</b>               John and Ann lie in bed. The lights are out. Ann is wide awake,
               while John is on the verge of sleep. He rolls over and puts his
               arm around her. She gets up and sits in a chair opposite the
               bed.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         John?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Mmmmm...
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I called you Tuesday at 3:30 and
                         they said you weren't in. Do you
                         remember where you were?
<b>          
</b><b>               CUT TO:
</b><b>          
</b><b>          36   INT. CYNTHIA BISHOP'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               John and Cynthia are in Cynthia's bed, kissing. On the floor,
               John's watch reads 3:11 pm.
<b>          
</b><b>               CUT BACK TO:
</b><b>          
</b><b>          37   INT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- NIGHT
</b><b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Tuesday. I had a late lunch.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Did you see a message to call me
                         when you got back in?
<b>          
</b><b>               CUT TO:
</b><b>          
</b><b>          38   EXT. CYNTHIA BISHOP'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               John leaves Cynthia's house and drives straight home, greeting
               Ann as he steps through the front door.
<b>          
</b><b>               CUT BACK TO:
</b><b>          
</b><b>          39   INT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- NIGHT
</b><b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Yes. I just got busy.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         That's interesting, because I
                         didn't leave a message.
<b>          
</b>               John is waking up a little.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Then maybe I saw an old message.
                         There are a lot of them on my desk,
                         you know.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Who'd you have lunch with?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I ate by myself.
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Something wrong?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Are you having an affair?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Jesus Christ, where'd that come
                         from? I have a late lunch by
                         myself and now I'm fucking
                         somebody?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Well, are you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         No, I'm not. Frankly, I'm offended
                         at the accusation.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         If I'm right, I want to know.
                         I don't want you to lie. I'd be
                         very upset, but not as upset as
                         if I'd found out you'd been lying.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         There's nothing to know, Ann.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I can't tell you how upset I would
                         be if you were lying.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Ann, you are completely paranoid.
                         Not ten minutes ago I wanted to
                         make love for the first time in
                         weeks, and you act like I'm dipped
                         in shit. You know, I think there
                         are a lot of women that would be
                         glad to have a young, straight
                         male making a pretty good living
                         beside them in bed with a hard
                         on.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         My sister, for one. Is that who
                         it is?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         For God's sake, Ann, I am not
                         fucking your sister. I don't find
                         her that attractive, for one.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Is that supposed to comfort me?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I was just saying, you know? I
                         didn't get paranoid when you didn't
                         want to make love. I could have
                         easily assumed that you didn't
                         want to because you were having
                         an affair.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         But I'm not.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I'm not either!!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Why don't I believe you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Look, this conversation is utterly
                         ridiculous. Maybe when you have
                         some evidence, we should talk,
                         but don't give me conjecture and
                         intuition.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Always the lawyer.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Goddam right. I mean, can you
                         imagine: "Your honor, I'm positive
                         this man is guilty. I can't place
                         him at the scene or establish a
                         motive, but I have this really
                         strong feeling."
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You've made your point.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I'm sorry. It's just...I'm under
                         a lot of pressure with this
                         Kirkland thing, it's my first big
                         case as junior partner, and I work
                         all day, I come home, I look
                         forward to seeing you, and...it
                         hurts that you accuse me like that.
<b>          
</b>               A pause. Ann exhales.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I'm sorry, too. I...I get these
                         ideas in my head, you know, and
                         I have nothing to do all day but
                         sit around and concoct these
                         intricate scenarios. And then
                         I want to believe it so I don't
                         think I've wasted the whole day.
                         Last week I was convinced you were
                         having an affair with Cynthia,
                         I don't know why.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I don't, either. I mean, Cynthia,
                         of all people. She's so...
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Loud.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Yeah. Jeez, give me some credit.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I didn't say it was rational, I
                         just said I was convinced.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Isn't therapy helping at all?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I don't know. Sometimes I feel
                         stupid babbling about my little
                         problems while children are
                         starving in the world.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Quitting your therapy won't feed
                         the children of Ethiopia.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I know.
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You never used to say "fucking".
<b>          
</b><b>          40   SCENE DELETED
</b><b>          
</b><b>          41   INT. CYNTHIA BISHOP'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               John sits on the edge of Cynthia's bed, slowly undressing.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         It's just so blatantly stupid,
                         I have a hard time believing you
                         did it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         What's so stupid about it?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         That you...you don't even know
                         the guy.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Well, you know him, he's a friend
                         of yours, do you think he can be
                         trusted?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Shit, after what you've told me,
                         I don't know. I should've known,
                         when he showed up dressed like
                         some arty brat.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I like the way he dresses.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         What if this tape gets into the
                         wrong hands?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         "The wrong hands"? We're not
                         talking about military secrets,
                         John. They're just tapes that he
                         makes so he can sit around and
                         get off.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Jesus Christ. And he doesn't have
                         sex with any of them? They just
                         talk?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Right.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Jesus. I could almost understand
                         it if he was screwing these people,
                         almost. Why doesn't he just buy
                         some magazines or porno movies
                         or something?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Doesn't work. He has to know the
                         people, he has to be able to
                         interact with them.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Interact, fine, but did you have
                         to masturbate in front of him,
                         for God's sake? I mean...
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I felt like it, so what? Goddam,
                         you and Ann make such a big deal
                         out of it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         You told Ann about this?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Of course. She is my sister. I
                         tell her almost everything.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I wish you hadn't done that.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Why not?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         It's just something I'd prefer
                         she didn't know about.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         She's a grown-up, she can handle
                         it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I just...Ann is very...
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Hung up.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         It just wasn't a smart thing to
                         do. Did you sign any sort of
                         paper, or did he have any contract
                         with you saying he wouldn't
                         broadcast these tapes?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         No.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         You realize you have no recourse
                         legally? This stuff could show
                         up anywhere.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         It won't. I trust him.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (disbelieving)
                         You trust him.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Yeah, I do. A helluva lot more
                         than I trust you.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         What do you mean?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Exactly what I said. I'd trust
                         him before I'd trust you. How much
                         clearer can I be?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         It hurts that you would say that
                         to me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (laughs)
                         Oh, please. Come on, John. You're
                         fucking your wife's sister and
                         you hardly been married a year.
                         You're a liar. But at least I know
                         you're a liar. It's the people that 
                         don't know, like Ann, that have to 
                         watch out.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         By definition you're lying to Ann,
                         too.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         That's right. But I never took
                         a vow in front of God and everybody
                         to be "faithful" to my sister.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Look, are we going to do it or
                         not?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Actually, no, I've changed my mind.
                         I shouldn't have called.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (ingratiating)
                         Well, I'm here now. I'd like to
                         do something...
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         How about straightening up the
                         living room?
<b>          
</b>               John doesn't smile.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Come on, John. You should be happy,
                         we've gone this far without Ann
                         finding out, I'm making it real
                         easy on you. Just walk out of here
                         and I'll see you at your house
                         for a family dinner sometime.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Did he put you up to this?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Who?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Graham.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         No, he didn't put me up to this.
                         Jesus, I don't need people to tell
                         me what I should do. I've just
                         been thinking about things, that's
                         all.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I can't believe I let him stay
                         in my house. Right under my nose.
                         That deviant fucker was right under
                         my nose and I didn't see him.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         If he had been under your prick
                         you'd have spotted him for sure.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (looks at her)
                         God, you...you're mean.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         I know. Will you please leave now?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Maybe I don't want to leave. Maybe
                         I want to talk.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         John, we have nothing to talk
                         about.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I knew it, I knew it. Things are
                         getting complicated.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         No, John, things are getting real
                         simple.
<b>          
</b><b>          42   INT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Ann, dressed in some of John's work clothes (old cotton shirt,
               khaki pants) is cleaning the house. Not cleaning like a normal
               person, but like an obsessive/compulsive person. Scrubbing spots
               that are already clean, vacuuming the same area of rug over
               and over, etc. Suddenly, an object lodges itself in the snout
               of the vacuum cleaner, making a loud noise. Shutting the machine
               off, Ann turns it over and sees that Cynthia's diamond stud
               earring has gotten hooked in the take-up roller.
<b>          
</b>               Ann stares at Cynthia's earring for a long moment.
<b>          
</b><b>               CUT TO:
</b><b>          
</b>               Cynthia picking up her jacket from beside the bed after having
               sex with John. The earring slips out of the pocket and bounces
               under the edge of the bed.
<b>          
</b><b>               CUT BACK TO:
</b><b>          
</b>               Ann as she sets the earring onto the floor and begins to pound
               it with the bottom of a water glass, trying to smash it to
               pieces. She soon realizes the futility of trying to break a
               diamond.
<b>          
</b>               Ann looks down at herself. Suddenly realizing that she is
               dressed in John's clothing, she frantically rips the shirt and
               pants from her body as though the material were burning her
               skin. Popped buttons skid across the floor.
<b>          
</b>               Clothed only in her bra and underwear, Ann sits in the middle
               of the bedroom floor, arms around herself.
<b>          
</b><b>          43   EXT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Ann, now in jeans and t-shirt, stumbles to her car. Once inside,
               she jams the key into the ignition and rests her head against
               the steering wheel.
<b>          
</b><b>          44   EXT. GRAHAM'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Ann lifts her head from the steering wheel and looks up. She
               looks almost surprised to find that she has driven to Graham's.
               Slowly, she gets out of the car.
<b>          
</b><b>          45   INT. GRAHAM'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Graham sits reading.
<b>          
</b>               There is a weak knock at the door. Graham listens, not sure he
               heard anything. There is a second weak knock.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         It's open!
<b>          
</b>               Nothing happens. Graham gets up and opens the door himself.
               Ann stands against the wall of the hallway, her head down, her
               breathing deliberate. Concerned, Graham slowly begins to lead
               her inside. Impulsively, she hugs him tightly.
<b>          
</b>               Unaccustomed to physical contact, Graham's hands hang awkwardly
               at his side. Ann slowly pulls back from the embrace and sits
               down. Graham goes to the kitchen area and gets her a glass of
               water. He gives it to her and sits in the chair opposite. Ann
               holds the glass in her hand, staring at it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         It's bottled, not tap.
<b>          
</b>               A weak smile from Ann. She drinks, swallowing with difficulty.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I'm not sure why I came here. I
                         had kind of decided not to talk
                         to you after...you know.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I know.
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         That son of a bitch.
<b>          
</b>               Ann looks at Graham.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (sarcastic)
                         John and Cynthia have been...
                         "fucking".
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I know.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (stunned)
                         You know?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         How did you know?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         She said it on her tape.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (angry)
                         Why didn't you tell me?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Ann, when would I have told you?
                         We were not speaking, if you
                         recall.
<b>          
</b>               Ann says nothing.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         But even if we had been speaking,
                         I wouldn't have told you.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Why not?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         It's not my place to tell you these
                         things, Ann. You have to find out
                         by yourself or from John directly.
                         You have to trust me on this.
<b>          
</b>               Ann shakes her head.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         My life is...shit. It's all shit.
                         It's like somebody saying, "Okay,
                         chairs are not chairs, they're
                         actually swimming pools" I mean,
                         nothing is what I thought it was.
                         What happened to me? Have I been
                         asleep? I vaguely remember the
                         wedding, but a lot of it is just
                         a blur...like I was watching
                         from a distance. I can't believe
                         him. Why didn't I trust my
                         intuition?
<b>          
</b>               Graham says nothing.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         And I'm vacuuming his goddam rug.
                         His rug, that he paid to have put
                         in his house. Nothing in that place
                         belongs to me. I wanted to put
                         some of my grandmother's furniture
                         in it, but he wouldn't let me.
                         So I m vacuuming his rug. That
                         bastard.
<b>          
</b>               Ann looks at Graham.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I want to make a tape.
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Do you think that's such a good
                         idea?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Don't you want to make one?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes. But I sense the element of
                         revenge here.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What difference does it make why
                         I do it?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I want you to be aware of what
                         you're doing and why, because I
                         know that this is not the sort
                         of thing you would do in a normal
                         frame of mind.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What would you know about a normal
                         frame of mind?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         (impressed)
                         That's a good question.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What do you have to do to get
                         ready?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Load a new tape, turn the camera
                         on.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Then do it.
<b>          
</b>               Graham opens a new box of videotapes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         How do you pay for all this? I
                         mean, rent, and tapes and this
                         equipment.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I have money.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What will you do when the money
                         runs out?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         It won't. Are you ready?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Yes.
<b>          
</b>               Graham turns the camera on.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Tell me your name.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Ann Bishop Millaney.
<b>          
</b><b>               CUT TO BLACK:
</b><b>          
</b><b>               THEN CUT TO:
</b><b>          
</b><b>          46   EXT. GRAHAM'S APARTMENT -- DUSK
</b><b>          
</b>               Street lights are illuminated. Night is imminent.
<b>          
</b><b>          47   INT. GRAHAM'S APARTMENT -- DUSK
</b><b>          
</b>               Graham stops the video recorder. The record meter is stopped at
<b>               46:02.
</b><b>          
</b>               Ann sits beside Graham on the couch. She looks into his eyes,
               stroking his hair.
<b>          
</b>               After a moment, she gets up to leave.
<b>          
</b><b>          48   INT. JOHN AND ANN MILLANEY'S HOUSE -- NIGHT
</b><b>          
</b>               John is talking on the phone as Ann walks through the door.
               He mumbles an apology into the receiver and hangs up as Ann
               moves to the couch, her expression calm.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (worried)
                         Jesus Christ! What the hell
                         happened? I came home and 
                         your car was gone, the door 
                         was open, I thought for sure 
                         you'd been abducted by some mad 
                         fucker, I was literally just
                         calling the cops when you walked
                         in. What happened?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I want out of this marriage.
<b>          
</b><b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (genuinely shocked)
                         What?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (looks at him)
                         I want out of this marriage.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Why?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         We'll call it uncontested or
                         whatever. I just want out.
<b>          
</b>               John moves to sit beside her on the couch. Ann does not look
               at him.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (conciliatory)
                         Ann, honey, please, tell me what's
                         wrong. Don't just say you want
                         out and leave me wondering. You
                         can't just go without telling me
                         why.
<b>          
</b>               Ann turns to look at him for a moment, then turns away.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Fuck you. I can do what I want.
<b>          
</b>               John's mouth literally hangs open in shock. He is dumbstruck.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I'll stay at my mother's.
<b>          
</b>               John gets up from the couch and begins pacing.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Where did you go when you left
                         here?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I drove around. Then I went to
                         talk with Graham.
<b>          
</b>               John smacks his hand on his leg.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Goddammit, goddammit!! That son
                         of a bitch!!
                              (thinking)
                         Well, at least I know you didn't
                         fuck him.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         No, but I wanted to. I really
                         wanted to, partially just to piss
                         you off.
<b>          
</b>               John is seething.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         You're leaving me for him, aren't
                         you? Well, that makes a sad sort
                         of sense. He can't, and you won't.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I'm not going to discuss this with
                         you anymore. You're making no
                         sense.
<b>          
</b>               John walks over to Ann.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Did you make one of those goddam
                         tapes?
<b>          
</b>               Ann says nothing.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Answer me, godammit!! Did you make
                         one of those tapes?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Yes!
<b>          
</b>               John explodes, hitting the wall all around Ann. She cowers
               beneath the storm.
<b>          
</b>               John bolts from the house.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b><b>                         DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM!!!
</b><b>          
</b><b>          49   INT. GRAHAM'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
</b><b>          
</b>               Graham stands in the middle of the room with a cigarette in
               his mouth, trying to teach himself to moonwalk.
<b>          
</b><b>          50   EXT. GRAHAM'S APARTMENT -- NIGHT
</b><b>          
</b>               John screeches to a halt, parking haphazardly. He gets out of
               the car and runs to Graham's apartment.
<b>          
</b><b>          51   INT. GRAHAM'S APARTMENT -- NIGHT
</b><b>          
</b>               John bursts through the door without bothering to knock. Graham
               looks up, startled. Before he can even react, John has him by
               the lapels.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Hi, John.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Where are the tapes, Graham?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         What tapes?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         You know which tapes! Where are
                         they?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         John, as a lawyer, you should know
                         that those tapes are private
                         property.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         So is my wife, asshole!!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         She's not property, John, she's a
                         person. Were you just going to
                         keep right on lying to her?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         What the hell do you think? I
                         love Ann. You think I'm going to
                         tell her about Cynthia and hurt
                         her feelings like that?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         God, you need help.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I need help? Whose sitting by
                         himself in a room choking his
                         chauncey to a bunch of videotapes,
                         Graham? Not me, buddy. You're the
                         fucking nut. Now show me those
                         tapes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I'm not kidding, Graham, you'd
                         better do what I say. Give me those
                         tapes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No.
<b>          
</b>               John punches Graham in the jaw, knocking him to the floor.
               Graham feels his mouth for blood as John picks him up by the
               shirt.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Graham, I swear to Christ I'll
                         kill your scrawny ass. Now give
                         me those tapes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No.
<b>          
</b>               John roughly pushes Graham into one of the director's chairs,
               which topples over and throws Graham to the floor once again.
<b>          
</b>               John looks around. He sees the boxes of tapes and begins to
               go through the contents. Graham gets up and runs over to stop
               him.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Get away from those!! They belong
                         to me!!
<b>          
</b>               Graham and John struggle. John hits Graham in the stomach and
               pushes him to the floor.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Give me your keys.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         My keys?
<b>          
</b>               John bends over and starts going through Graham's pockets.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Your keys, asshole!! Your two
                         fucking keys!! Give them to me!!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I'm not going to give you my keys.
<b>          
</b>               John beats Graham until Graham can offer no resistance. He then
               drags Graham into the hallway and leaves him there.
<b>          
</b>               John then locks himself inside Graham's apartment.
<b>          
</b>               John walks over to the boxes of videotapes and begins to search
               through them spastically. He finds both Cynthia and Ann's tapes.
               After a brief deliberation, he decides to watch Ann's. He turns
               on the player and the monitor. After pulling a chair up to the
               screen, John presses the button marked "play".
<b>          
</b>               In the hallway, Graham drags himself to the door of his
               apartment. Putting his ear to the inlet, he strains to hear
               what is going on inside.
<b>          
</b>               John watches the monitor come to life.
<b>          
</b>               The image is Ann, sitting in a chair.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Tell me your name.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Ann Bishop Millaney.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         You are married, correct?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Goddam right.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Who usually initiates sex?
<b>          
</b>               John's jaw tightens.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Bastard...
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         He does.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Do you talk to him?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         When we're making love?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Sometimes. Afterward.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Does he go down on you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (shouting at Graham)
                         You son of a bitch!!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Not very often.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         I would.
<b>          
</b>               John is literally so mad he can't speak. He watches the screen
               in mute anger, his hands wrapped tightly around the arms of
               the chair. Graham still listens from the hallway.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Have you ever wanted to make love
                         to someone other than your husband?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Goddamit...
<b>          
</b>               Ann hesitates.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (to Ann's image)
                         Answer him, goddammit!!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         You're hesitating. I think that
                         means you have.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (to Graham on tape)
                         Shut up!!!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         You don't know what I'm thinking.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         It's a simple question. Have you
                         ever thought of having--making
                         love with someone other than your
                         husband?
<b>          
</b>               John leans forward.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Is he going to see this?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Absolutely not.
<b>          
</b>               A sarcastic chuckle from John. In the hallway, Graham furrows
               his brow.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         I have thought about it, yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (to Ann's image)
                         You bitch. I knew it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Did you have sex before you were
                         married?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Did the person you made love with
                         satisfy you more than your husband?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (to Graham)
                         God damn you!!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Yes.
<b>          
</b>               John stands and throws his chair against the door. Graham, still
               listening at the door, is startled.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         And you have thought about...making
                         love to that person again since
                         you ve been married?
<b>          
</b>               John watches the monitor, his eyes beginning to water.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         I don't see what difference it
                         makes, I mean, I can think what
                         I want.
                              (pause)
                         I don't know if I want to do this
                         anymore, I'm afraid...I don't mind
                         answering the questions so much,
                         but if somebody were to see this...
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         At some level, I don't understand
                         your nervousness. Have you decided
                         to leave John?
<b>          
</b>               Ann thinks. John watches.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Yes, I have. I will.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Then as far as this taping goes,
                         you have nothing to worry about.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         I guess not.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Do you want me to stop?
<b>          
</b>               John, absorbed in the image, absently shakes his head.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         No.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Are there people other than your
                         previous lover that you have
                         fantasized about?
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Yes. Whenever...all right, look.
                         Whenever I see a man that I think
                         is attractive, I wonder what it
                         would be like with him, I mean,
                         I'm just curious, I don't act on
                         it, but I hate that I think that!!
                         I wish I could just forget about
                         that stuff!!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Why?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Because that's how Cynthia thinks!!
                         All she does is think about that
                         stuff, and I hate that, I don't
                         want to be like her, I don't want
                         to be like her!!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         You're not like your sister. You
                         couldn't be like her if you wanted
                         to.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         I know. Deep down, I know that.
                         It just bothers me, when I have
                         feelings or impulses that she has.
<b>          
</b>               John picks up the chair he threw and sets it upright. He sits
               down and watches the screen impassively. Graham still listens
               from outside.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         So you do fantasize?
<b>          
</b><b>                              ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                              GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         About who?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         I fantasized about you.
<b>          
</b><b>                              GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         About me?
<b>          
</b><b>                              ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Yes.
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Have you fantasized about me?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         I thought I made that clear before,
                         when I said I would go down on
                         you.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         I remember. You could do that,
                         couldn't you? Go down on me?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         If I asked you to, would you? Not
                         on tape, I mean?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         No.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         On tape?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         No.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Why not?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (on tape)
                         If I can't do it all, I don't want
                         to do anything. And I can't do
                         it all.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (on tape)
                         Can't or won't?
<b>          
</b>               A pause. John is still watching the tape, his face betraying
               no emotion. Graham still listens from outside.
<b>          
</b><b>               CUT TO:
</b><b>          
</b>               The previous afternoon. We are no longer looking at Ann on the
               monitor, but watching her and Graham AS THEY MADE THE TAPE. For
               instance, we can now see Graham from Ann's point of view, or the
               two of them at the same time, etc.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Can't.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You said you weren't always
                         impotent.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         That's correct.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         So you have had sex.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Who was the last person you had
                         sex with?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Her name was Elizabeth.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         So what happened? Was it so bad
                         that it turned you off?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No, it was wonderful. That wasn't
                         the problem.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         What was the problem?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         The problem was me. I was...I was
                         a pathological liar. Or am, I
                         should say. Lying is like
                         alcoholism, one is always
                         "recovering".
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         So you lied to her?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes. I did. Willfully and
                         repeatedly.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         How come?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I loved her for how good she made
                         me feel, and I hated her for how
                         good she made me feel. And at that
                         time, I tended to express my
                         feelings non-verbally. I couldn't
                         handle anyone having that much
                         control over my emotions.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         And now you can?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Now I make sure that no one has
                         the opportunity to test me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Don't you get lonely?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         How could I, with all these nice
                         people stopping by? The fact is
                         that I've lived by myself for so
                         long, I can't imagine living with
                         another person. It's amazing what
                         you can get used to if enough time
                         goes by. And anyway, I'm asking
                         the questions. Are you happy?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I don't know anymore. I thought 
                         I was, but obviously I was wrong.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Did you confront John with the
                         fact that you knew about him?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Not yet. I'm not sure I will. I
                         just want out.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         If you do get out of your marriage,
                         will you continue to be inhibited?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I don't know. It all gets back
                         to that Cynthia thing. I don't
                         like her...eagerness. There's
                         nothing left to imagine, there's
                         no...
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Subtlety?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Subtlety, yes. No subtlety. Plus,
                         I've never really felt able to
                         open up with anyone. I mean, that
                         other person I told you about,
                         I enjoyed making love with him
                         a lot, but I still wasn't able
                         to really let go. I always feel
                         like I'm being watched and I
                         shouldn't embarrass myself.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         And you feel the same way with
                         John?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Kind of. I mean, John's like this
                         kind of...craftsman. Like he's
                         a carpenter, and he makes really
                         good tables. But that's all he
                         can make, and I don't need anymore
                         tables.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Interesting analogy.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I'm babbling.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No, you're not.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (thinking)
                         God, I m so mad at him!!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         You should be. He lied to you.
                         So did Cynthia.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Yeah, I know, but somehow I expect
                         that from her, I mean, she'll do
                         it with almost anybody, I don't
                         know, I shouldn't stick up for
                         her I guess, but him. He lied
                         so...deeply!! Ooo, I want to watch
                         him die!!
<b>          
</b>               Ann sits quietly for a moment. Graham watches her silently.
               The camera continues to roll.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (looks up at Graham)
                         You're really never going to make
                         love again?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I'm not planning on it.
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         If you were in love with me, would
                         you?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I'm not in love with you.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         But if you were?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I...I can't answer that precisely.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         But I feel like maybe I could be
                         really comfortable with you.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         That's very flattering.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         So why won't you make love with
                         me? Why wouldn't you, I mean?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Ann. Are you asking me
                         hypothetically, or are you asking
                         me for real, right now?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I'm asking for real. I want you
                         to turn that camera off and make
                         love with me. Will you?
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I can't.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Why not?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I've told you.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         But I don't understand--
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Ann, it could happen to me all
                         over again, don't you see? I could
                         start to--
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         But how do you know for sure, you
                         have to try to find a way to fig--
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I couldn't face her if I had slept
                         with somebody else.
<b>          
</b>               A pause.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Who? Elizabeth?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (uncomfortable)
                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You mean you're still in contact
                         with her?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         But you're planning to be?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I don't know. Possibly.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Wait a minute, wait a minute.
                         What's going on here? Did you come
                         back here just to see her again?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Not entirely.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         But that was part of it?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Yes.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Like maybe a big part?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Possibly.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Graham, I mean, what do you think
                         her reaction is going to be if
                         you contact her?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I don't know.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Look at you, look at what's
                         happened to you, look how you've
                         changed! Don't you think she will
                         have changed?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I don't know. I really would rather
                         not talk about it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (has to laugh)
                         Whoa!! I'm so glad we got that
                         on tape!! You won't answer a
                         question about Elizabeth, but I
                         have to answer all these intimate
                         questions about my sex life!!
                         Graham, what do you think she's
                         going to make of all these
                         videotapes? Are you going to tell
                         her about them? I can't imagine
                         her being too understanding about
                         that. But since you don't lie
                         anymore, you'll have to say
                         something.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         As I said, I haven't decided what
                         to do, exactly. Perhaps I won't
                         do anything.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Oh, you just moved here to think
                         about it, right?
<b>          
</b>               Graham says nothing. Ann looks at him.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Oh, God, Graham, this is
                         so...pathetic. You're not even
                         what you pretend to be, you're
                         a lie, you're a bigger lie than
                         you ever were.
<b>          
</b>               Graham sets the camera down, though it continues to record.
               He is visibly upset.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         All right, you want to talk about
                         lies, let's talk about lies, Ann.
                         Let's talk about lying to yourself.
                         You haven't been able to sleep
                         with your husband because you're
                         no longer in love with him, and
                         maybe you never were. You haven't
                         been honest with yourself in longer
                         than you can remember.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                              (heated)
                         Yeah, you're right. But I never
                         claimed to know everything like 
                         you, and have all these little
                         theories. I'm still learning, I
                         know that. But I don't feel like
                         I've wasted time. If I had to go
                         through my marriage to get to where
                         I am right now, fine.
<b>          
</b>               Ann moves in closer, burrowing, her eyes on fire.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         But you. You have wasted nine
                         years. I mean, that has to be
                         some sort of weird record or
                         something, nine years. How does
                         that feel?
<b>          
</b>               Graham says nothing. Ann picks up the camera and points it at
               him.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Don't do that.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Why not?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Because.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         "Because"? That's not good enough.
                         I asked you a question, Graham.
                         I asked you "how does it feel"?
                         How does it feel, Mr. I Want To
                         Go Down On You But I Can't? Do
                         you know how many people you've
                         sucked into your weird little
                         world? Including me? Come on,
                         how does it feel?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I can't tell you like this.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I'm just going to keep asking until
                         you answer. I'm sure there's plenty
                         of tape.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I don't find this "turning the
                         tables" thing very interesting--
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I don't care.
<b>          
</b>               Graham reaches up for the camera. Ann knocks his hand away.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Not until I get some answers. Tell
                         what you feel. Not what you think,
                         I've heard plenty of that. What
                         you feel.
<b>          
</b>               Graham is on the verge of completely falling apart.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Come on!!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         All right!! All right!! You want
                         to know? You want to know how
                         I feel? I feel ashamed. Is that
                         what you wanted to hear?
<b>          
</b>               A pause. Graham regains his composure somewhat.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Why are you ashamed?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Jesus Christ, Ann. Why is anybody
                         anything? I think you have this
                         idea that people are either all
                         good or all bad, and you don't
                         allow for any gray areas, and
                         that's what most of us consist
                         of.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         You're not answering me.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (heated)
                         Well, what kind of answer are you
                         looking for, Ann? What is it
                         exactly that you want to know?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I want to know why you are the
                         way you are!
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         And I'm telling you it's not any
                         one thing that I can point to and
                         say "That's why!" It doesn't work
                         that way with people who have
                         problems, Ann, it's not that neat,
                         it's not that tidy! It's not a
                         series of little boxes that you
                         can line up and count. Things
                         just don't happen that way.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         But why can't you just put it all
                         behind you? Can't you just forget
                         it? All that stuff you did?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No, Ann, I can't. I can't forget
                         it. It's not something I can fix.
                         It's difficult. There s something
                         in my mind...the way my brain
                         works...
                              [frustrated)
                         God, Ann, when you're with another
                         person, and you re...inside
                         them, you're so vulnerable, you're
                         revealing so much...there's no
                         protection. And...somebody could
                         say, or do something to you while
                         you re in this...state
                         of...nakedness. And they could
                         hurt you without even knowing it.
                         In a way that you couldn't even
                         see.
                              (looks at Ann)
                         And you would withdraw. To make
                         sure it didn't happen again.
<b>          
</b>               Ann looks at him for a long moment and then sets the camera
               down.
<b>          
</b>               She moves in front of Graham and kneels.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I want to touch you.
<b>          
</b>               Graham shakes his head.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I want to touch you.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         No.
<b>          
</b>               Ann reaches out, and Graham instinctively begins to move away.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Graham.
<b>          
</b>               Something in her voice makes him stop. Their eyes lock. Graham
               slowly moves back toward her.
<b>          
</b>               Ann's hand eases out to him, her eyes still burning into his.
               Graham closes his eyes, accepting Ann's touch.
<b>          
</b>               She caresses him.
<b>          
</b>               Slowly.
<b>          
</b>               Delicately.
<b>          
</b>               She touches his arms, his face, his hair.
<b>          
</b>               Closing her eyes, she takes his hand and puts it against her
               face.
<b>          
</b>               She begins to lie him back on the couch. When he offers light
               resistance, she gently persists.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Keep your eyes closed.
<b>          
</b>               Graham lies back, silently obeying.
<b>          
</b>               Ann touches his face.
<b>          
</b>               Gradually, her hand slips to his neck and she begins to 
               unbutton his shirt. She watches his face, hoping that he will
               remain calm. He does.
<b>          
</b>               She rubs her hand on his chest.
<b>          
</b>               Once again she brings Graham's hand to her face. She moves his
               hand to her neck and throat, painting her skin with his fingers.
<b>          
</b>               Soon each hand is exploring the other. Fingers search for and
               find hidden areas.
<b>          
</b>               Ann stands.
<b>          
</b>               Their hands remain together, and Graham's eyes remain closed.
               Ann moves onto the couch with Graham.
<b>          
</b>               She gently lowers herself into a sitting position on his waist.
<b>          
</b>               She slowly moves both of her hands onto Graham's chest. They
               move forward and back, like a lazy tide.
<b>          
</b>               She looks at Graham. His face is tranquil.
<b>          
</b>               Ann quietly begins to move her face toward his.
<b>          
</b>               Soon she is hovering inches above him, her long hair touching
               his features.
<b>          
</b>               She lowers her lips to his forehead and kisses him. She waits
               for a negative reaction. Getting none, she moves lower and 
               kisses his eyes. Still receiving no discouragement, she moves
               to his nose.
<b>          
</b>               A subtle movement from Graham. Ann waits for a moment.
<b>          
</b>               She then moves to his lips, her luxuriant tresses enveloping
               his face.
<b>          
</b>               She kisses him lightly.
<b>          
</b>               She kisses him again.
<b>          
</b>               Graham tilts his head back and she softly kisses his neck.
<b>          
</b>               Graham's hands make their way up Ann's back until they have
               reached her neck. He slowly pulls his face to hers.
<b>          
</b>               He kisses her.
<b>          
</b>               Graham is flooded with warmth and excitement.
<b>          
</b>               He caresses her, intoxicating himself with physical contact.
<b>          
</b>               The kisses become more meaningful, and the touching becomes
               more passionate.
<b>          
</b>               For a moment, Graham seems about to evaporate in a state of
               ecstasy, his eyes filled with relief and happiness.
<b>          
</b>               But his gaze happens to fall on the video camera, which
               continues to record.
<b>          
</b>               Graham seizes up and abruptly backs away from Ann's embrace.
               Reality slowly envelopes him.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Graham...
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         I'm okay. It's okay.
<b>          
</b>               Ann reaches for his hand. He allows her to take it.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                              (almost dazed)
                         It's okay.
<b>          
</b>               Graham looks at Ann for a long moment. She sees the acceptance
               and gratitude in his eyes. She smiles lightly.
<b>          
</b>               Graham moves forward and shuts off the camera.
<b>          
</b><b>               CUT BACK TO:
</b><b>          
</b>               John watching the tape. There is video snow on the monitor now.
               The tape timer reads 46:02. John gets up slowly, ejects the tape
               from the player, and heads for the door.
<b>          
</b>               Graham, hearing the footsteps approach, backs away from the
               inlet. His eye is swollen, and he holds one of his hands in
               a curious position.
<b>          
</b>               John opens the door. He looks at Graham for a moment before
               reaching into his pocket for Graham's keys. He dangles them
               in his hand as he stands over Graham.
<b>                         
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         I never told you this, because
                         I thought it would crush you, but
                         now I could give a shit.
                              (pause)
                         I fucked Elizabeth. Before you
                         broke up. Before you were having
                         trouble, even. So you can stop
                         making her into a saint. She was
                         good in bed and she could keep
                         a secret. And that's about all
                         I can say about her.
<b>          
</b>               John drops Graham's keys to the floor and leaves. Graham stands,
               fighting back tears, and walks into his apartment.
<b>          
</b>               He pulls Ann's tape from the videotape player.
<b>          
</b>               He reaches inside the cassette cartridge and pulls the videotape
               itself out, ruining it forever. He does the same to every other
               tape in both the boxes. Calmly. Deliberately. Methodically.
<b>          
</b>               He walks over to the camera/recorder, trailing a mound of
               videotape behind him. He breaks the lens off the camera body,
               and smashes the inner workings against the edge of the table.
               He then drops the damaged unit into the pile of destroyed tape,
               where it disappears.
<b>          
</b><b>               CUT TO BLACK:
</b><b>          
</b><b>               THEN CUT TO:
</b><b>          
</b><b>          52   INT. LAW OFFICES -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               John Millaney talks to his colleague.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Man, not having to answer to
                         anybody... I feel like this huge
                         weight has been lifted from my
                         shoulders. I mean, come on, if
                         I decide that I'd rather live
                         alone, what's so bad about that?
                         It's not like I've decided to live
                         a life of crime, right?
                         It's just how I feel, you can't
                         help the way you feel, you just
                         have to be honest about it.
<b>          
</b>               John dials a number on his telephone.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   VOICE ON PHONE
</b><b>                         IBM.
</b><b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (to phone)
                         Brian Kirkland, please.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   VOICE ON PHONE
</b>                         May I ask who's calling?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         John Millaney.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   VOICE ON PHONE
</b>                         One moment.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                              (to his colleague)
                         Anyway, I've always said, the work
                         is the thing. I can be happy
                         without a marriage, but take away
                         my work, that's different. And
                         if Ann can't handle that, that's
                         her problem, like we re all alone
                         in this world, you know what I'm
                         saying? I mean, fuck.
                              (looks at phone)
                         Jesus, what's takin' this guy?
<b>          
</b>               The intercom clicks to life.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   SECRETARY
</b>                              (on speaker)
                         Mr. Millaney?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Yeah.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   SECRETARY
</b>                              (on speaker)
                         Mr. Forman would like to see you
                         in his office.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Okay, in a minute, I'm on with
                         a client.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   SECRETARY
</b>                         (on speaker)
                         He said immediately.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         All right, jesus.
<b>          
</b>               The intercom clicks off.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   VOICE ON PHONE
</b>                         Mr. Millaney?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Yes?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   VOICE ON PHONE
</b>                         Mr. Kirkland has asked me to inform
                         you that he has obtained legal
                         representation elsewhere, and that
                         if you have a message for him to
                         leave it with me.
<b>          
</b>               John swallows.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   JOHN
</b>                         Thank you. I...there is no message.
                         Thank you.
<b>          
</b>               John hangs up. He thinks for a moment, rubbing his forehead.
<b>          
</b>               The intercom clicks to life.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   SECRETARY
</b>                              (on speaker)
                         Mr. Millaney, Mr. Forman is
                         waiting.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DUDE
</b>                              (voice over)
                         Come on, I'm not asking too much,
                         am I? Just one little question.
<b>          
</b><b>          53   INT. LOUNGE -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Cynthia is tending bar. The Dude from earlier is still there,
               puffing On a big cigar.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DUDE
</b>                         Just tell me what time you get
                         off. Work, I mean. What's the
                         harm in that? Whaddaya say?
<b>          
</b>               Ann enters the lounge. Cynthia watches with apprehensive
               surprise as Ann approaches with a potted plant.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                              (to Dude)
                         Excuse me.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia moves to meet Ann at the end of the bar. Ann sets the
               plant down on the counter. Her manner is diffident, but not
               hostile.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I know it's your birthday, and
                         I know you like plants. So I got
                         you this.
<b>          
</b>               Cynthia is very moved, though she struggles valiantly to conceal
               her emotions.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Thank you.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Well. I can't stay.
<b>          
</b>               Ann begins to leave.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Can I call you?
<b>          
</b>               Ann turns back to face her. They look at each other for a
               moment.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Do you have my work number?
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         No.
<b>          
</b>               Ann writes the number down on a napkin.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         I get real busy between two and
                         four.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Okay.
<b>          
</b>                         Ann looks at Cynthia again before leaving.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   ANN
</b>                         Bye.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Bye.
<b>          
</b>               Ann leaves. Cynthia continues to look at the door long after
               Ann has left.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   DUDE
</b>                         Nice plant.
<b>          
</b>          Cynthia turns to him.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   CYNTHIA
</b>                         Do me a favor. Don't come in here
                         anymore.
<b>          
</b><b>          54   SCENE DELETED
</b><b>          
</b><b>          55   INT. GRAHAM'S APARTMENT -- DAY
</b><b>          
</b>               Graham sits reading. There is now some furniture in the
               apartment. Bookshelves, plants, etc. There are periodicals on
               the table where the video gear used to be. There are no
               cigarettes.
<b>          
</b>               There is a knock at Graham's door, which now has a deadbolt
               lock.
<b>          
</b><b>                                   GRAHAM
</b>                         Who is it?
<b>          
</b>               A knock again. Graham sets his book down and goes to the door.
               He unlocks the deadbolt and opens it.
<b>          
</b>               Ann stands in the hallway.
<b>          
</b>               Graham is obviously flushed with feeling at seeing her. She
               wordlessly moves into the room, her movements like a slow
               breeze, her expression calm.
<b>          
</b>               Graham watches her go by.
<b>          
</b>               She stops in the middle of the room, her back to him.
<b>          
</b>               Graham moves toward her slowly. Sensing him behind her, her
               breathing becomes deep.
<b>          
</b>               Graham slowly enfolds her in his arms, his face against her
               hair.
<b>          
</b>               She closes her eyes as their fingers entwine.
<b>          
</b><b>               CUT TO BLACK
</b><b>          
</b><b>               THE END
</b><b>          
</b><b>          
</b><b>     
</b>




</pre>
<b></b></pre><br>
<table width="85%" border="0" align="center" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" class="body" style="BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid;">
  <tr> 
	<td align=center>
	<td><h1>Sex, Lies and Videotape</h1><br><br>
	    <b>Writers</b> : &nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/writer.php?w=Steven Soderbergh" title="Scripts by Steven Soderbergh">Steven Soderbergh</a><br>
    	<b>Genres</b> : &nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/genre/Drama" title="Drama Scripts">Drama</a><br><br><br>
		
		<a href="/Movie Scripts/Sex, Lies and Videotape Script.html#comments" title="Sex, Lies and Videotape comments">User Comments</a>
	</td>
</table>
<br><br>
<div align="center">
<a href="https://www.imsdb.com" title="Internet Movie Script Database"><img src="/images/lilbutton.gif" style="border: 1px solid black;"  alt="Internet Movie Script Database" border=1><br>
Back to IMSDb</a>
</div><br>
<br><br>
  </tr>
</table>
<br><br>
</table>

<table width="99%" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" class="body">
  <tr> 
  <td background="/images/reel.gif" height="13" colspan="2">
</table>

<div align="center">
 <a href="https://www.imsdb.com" title="Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb)">Index</a> 
 &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;|&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 <a href="/submit" title="Submit scripts">Submit</a> 
 &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;|&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 <a href="/links" title="Other sites">Links</a> 
 &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;|&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 <a href="/link to us" title="Link to IMSDb">Link to us</a> 
 &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;|&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 <a href="/feeds" title="IMSDb RSS Feeds">RSS Feeds</a> 
 &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;|&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 <a href="/disclaimer">Disclaimer</a> 
 &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;|&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 <a href="/privacy">Privacy policy</a> 
</div>

<br />

</body>
</html>
Where does Cynthia meet Graham?
Where does Cynthia meet Graham ?
At Graham's apartment
At Graham s apartment
His apartment.
His apartment .