POINT BREAK

BODHI

Sorry, can't do it, brah. He's on

the road. And where they're going

there's no phones. Damn, I hate

this Johnny, I really do. I hate

violence. See, that's why I need

Rosie. I could never make this

thing work, myself. No way I could

hold a knife to Tyler's throat, man!

She was my woman, once. We shared

time in this world. But Rosie, he's

kind of a... mechanism. Once you

set him in motion, he won't stop.

That's his gift, a kind of...

blankness. Noon comes, straight up,

he'll gut her like a pig and try not

to get any on his shoes. Nothing I

can do, unless I get there.

Utah blanches as he takes this in. Knows Bodhi well

enough now to know he means business.

BODHI

So that makes us partners, doesn't

it? Because now we both have the

same goal... to get me where I need

to go. Right?

Utah's expression turns suddenly cold as an executioner's.

UTAH

We're wasting time.

BODHI

See! That's what I like about you,

man! You're just sharp as a razor

blade.

Bodhi jumps out of the van and approaches the others,

gathered nearby. He addresses the pilot first...

BODHI

Get the plane down to Santa Monica

and top up the tanks.

(to the others)

Let's go. Let's saddle up!

CUT TO:

EXT. L.A. STREETS - DAY

A STYLIZED LONG LENS SHOT stacks the cars into a dreamlike

mirage. The van weaves slowly among them with predatory

stealth.

BODHI (V.O.)

Okay. All I'm askin' for is ninety

seconds of your life, Johnny.

That's all.

INT. VAN

EXTREME CLOSEUP ON the velcro straps of Second Chance

armor. Tanned fingers cinch it tight. A SHELL slides

into the cylinder of the Casull. A SHOTGUN is cocked.

KACHACK!

BODHI

It's basic dog psychology, brah. If

you scare them, get them pissing

down their leg, they submit... you

control them. If you project

weakness, you draw aggression...

that's how people get hurt.

WIDER, revealing that Bodhi is in the back with Utah and

Roach.

Nathaniel and Grommet sit up front.

The duffels contents are strewn around. Masks. Weapons.

They're all pulling on suit pants and jackets. Tying

ties. Slipping on white gloves. Snappy Oxfords.

Bodhi is pulling a suit jacket on over his BODY ARMOR.

Utah is fumbling with his armored vest. He works with

vicious, jerky moves. His jaw locked. Eyes down.

BODHI

Fear causes hesitation, and

hesitation will cause your worst

fears to come true. You project

strength to avoid conflict.

ROACH

Peace through superior firepower,

babe.

Bodhi conspicuously empties all the shells from a PUMP 12

GAUGE.

Pockets the shells. Tosses the weapon to Utah.

BODHI

Here, you need this. You can't be

comin' through that door with your

dick in your hands, right?

UTAH

I can't do this.

BODHI

Sure you can! You may even like

it... it's a killer rush. You'll

see. Hey, don't I show you things,

Johnny U?

UTAH

Bodhi, this is your wake up call,

man -- I... am... an... Eff...

Bee... Eye... Agent!!

BODHI

Wild, ain't it?! See, we exist on a

higher plane, you and I. We make

our own rules. Why be a servant of

the law Johnny U... when you can be

it's master?

GROMMET

Fuckin' A!

BODHI

Ninety seconds, man, door to door.

A small price to pay for someone who

loves you.

(he looks up)

She does you know. It's not her

style to fall so hard... I don't

think she did with me.

He pulls the Ronald Reagan mask over his head smoothly.

Roach pulls his on. NIXON. Nathaniel becomes KENNEDY.

Grommet transforms into LBJ.

Bodhi looks in the bag -- no more masks.

BODHI

Sorry, Johnny. Guess you don't get

to be president.

JOHNNY'S POV -- the back doors of the van. And the

promise of what is beyond. Bodhi enters FRAME. Looks

straight at us.

BODHI

Rock and roll!

BOOM -- THE DOORS bang open, REVEALING--

EXT. STREET - BANK - DAY

STILL IN POV (HANDHELD) we hurl ourselves from the dark

van into blasting daylight. Bodhi is ahead of us in the

sprint for the bank doors. Dizzying forward momentum as

we hammer through the doors into--

INT. BANK

THE HANDHELD POV CONTINUES as we follow Bodhi, a wolf

plunging among the sheep. A FAT GUARD inside the doors.

He turns to us just as Bodhi butt-strokes him hard in the

gut.

Someone screams.

BODHI

Everybody freeze!! Don't move!!

AHEAD of us GROMMET/LBJ covers the SECOND GUARD with his

12 gauge.

GROMMET

Don't fucking do it, man!

The guy has his hand on the grip of his pistol but it's

like the thing suddenly weighs eight tons, he can't seem

to lift it from the holster. ROACH/NIXON slips up next to

him and helps him with it. The guy is visibly trembling.

A YOUNG JOCK makes a move to run.

'OUR' SHOTGUN comes up like a reflex, right in his face.

Roach/Nixon throws the guy to the floor by his hair.

AHEAD OF US, Bodhi is in action. Moving to the counter,

shouting--

BODHI/REAGAN

All Tellers back away from the

counter! Hands on your heads!

RIGHT NOW!! That's right. You know

the drill.

It's like a replay of the robbery Utah saw on video. But

he's right in the middle of it, like in some kind of

nightmare.

WE'RE STILL IN POV, the image WHIPPING wildly from side to

side as Utah scans the room. We whirl dervish among the

statuary of the customers and bank employees. Our gaze

drifts across THE FLOOR MANAGER, a short guy in a brown

suit standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

BODHI/REAGAN

All customers on the floor. Let's

go! Move it! Get down! On the

floor! Right now! Let's go.

Roach and Grommet are pushing them down.

Utah stands stiffly with the shotgun. He seems dazed.

He catches the eye of a CUSTOMER. In a tenth of a second

we see Johnny see the customer see his uncertainty. Fear

has them both hyper-aware.

Johnny gestures fiercely with the shotgun.

UTAH

On the floor, asshole! What's your

problem?! I blow your fucking

kneecaps out, you'll be on the

floor!!

The guy hits the deck like a sack of cement.

BODHI/REAGAN floats beside Johnny, scanning with the

Casull. He speaks without turning his head.

BODHI/REAGAN

Kick in the ass, ain't it? Gonna be

kinda hard to explain though... when

they play the tapes back down at the

bureau. Could look bad on your

monthly evaluation.

Johnny looks up at surveillance camera. He's quite

fucked.

UTAH

Can we just get the goddamn money

and get out of here?!

BODHI/REAGAN

That's the spirit!!

(to the room)

Head's down! Eyes down! Just a

couple minutes of your life and

we're gone.

Bodhi leaps to the counter, commanding the room.

But at this point they diverge from their time-proven

plan.

Roach isn't going for the drawers... he's sprinting for

the VAULT.

BODHI/REAGAN

You!

(reading a name-tag)

Miss Jennings... of New Accounts.

Be a dear and open the inner gate

for my associate. NOW!!

MISS JENNINGS

He -- he -- he has the keys. Mr.

Duggan.

BODHI/REAGAN

Whatta say, Mr. Duggan? Wanna give

her the keys or do I pick through

the blood and chunks for them?

DUGGAN, the bank manager, is surprisingly calm as he takes

the keys from his pocket. Holds them out to the terrified

woman.

DUGGAN

Do whatever they say, Terry.

MISS JENNINGS hurries to comply.

She unlocks the STEEL CAGE inside the big vault door.

Roach/Nixon and Grommet/LBJ take her inside with them.

A CUSTOMER, lying on the floor near the fat guard catches

his eye.

The guard, face jammed against the linoleum, blanches as

he sees the customer lift a corner of his shirt to reveal

THE BUTT OF A PISTOL. The customer mouths the words "I'm

a cop".

The guard is hyperventilating.

AT THE FRONT DOORS A WOMAN comes in out of the bright

sunlight.

JFK pulls her in fast and throws her to the floor. Then

goes back to watching the street.

JOHNNY is next to Bodhi/Reagan.

UTAH

You're blowing it, man! You're

breaking your own rules... pulling

too much time!

BODHI/REAGAN

JFK, how we doin'?

NATHANIEL/JFK

All clear, man!

INSIDE THE VAULT Grommet and Roach are pillaging rapidly.

Their hands blur as nice fat STACKS OF 20s and 100s are

dumped into canvas sacks.

ON THE MAIN FLOOR the OFF DUTY COP slips his hands slowly

around the butt of his pistol, concealing the move with

his body.

He signals with his eyes to the fat guard, glancing at the

guard's ankle.

TIGHT ON THE GUARD'S ANKLE where we can see a sliver of

BACK-UP GUN, a tiny .25 auto in an ankle holster.

The guard's eyes are pleading with the hard-on cop.

"Don't make me do this".

The guy is sweating, shaking. A yellow liquid spreads

across the tiles next to his quivering hips. He's

actually pissing himself, he's so scared.

TIGHT ON the off-duty cop. Watching like a ferret. He

cocks his .38.

ECU GUARD'S EYES, wide with terror.

It happens like lightning. The cop pops to his knees,

straight-arming the .38. The guard goes for his ankle

holster.

REAGAN spins.

The cop FIRES. BLAM!

Reagan is catapulted backward off the counter by the

impact.

He crashes onto a desk on his back. Slides off,

scattering papers.

A teller screams. The cop spins toward Utah.

Johnny throws down the shotgun. Shows his palms. He's

holding out his gold star.

UTAH

Federal agent! Undercover!

The cop FIRES TWICE. Two in the chest. Utah is hurled

back. Slams into the tellers' counter.

NATHANIEL/LBJ lets go with the 12 gauge. BOOM!

The cop spins, hit by some 00 buck pellets.

The guard caps-off like a maniac. BLAM, BLAM, BLAM,

BLAM!!!

All of them wild, but serving to get Nathaniel pinned down

behind a check-writing island.

ROACH/NIXON LEAPS THE COUNTER and lands behind the guard.

The guard's shoulder explodes as Roach's 12 gauge

detonates. He pitches onto his face, screaming and

holding the wreckage of his upper arm.

Grommet/LBJ is coming over the counter behind Roach as the

off-duty cop spins and fires. BLAM! BLAM! Roach takes

it in the chest. Staggers back, firing into the floor.

Trips and drops his shotgun.

Grommet clutches his throat as blood streams over his

fingers.

IN SLOW MOTION Reagan's face rises above the counter.

The mask is askew. In order to see, Bodhi pulls it off.

The Casull comes up in a slow, deliberate arc as--

THE COP turns, terrified now, whipping his gun around,

nightmarishly slow as--

BODHI COCKS THE CASULL in dream-time and--

KABOOOOM!!! The world's most powerful handgun proves its

claim at 2000 feet per second.

A gout of hamburger explodes out of the cop's chest.

He is lifted off his feet. Hits and slides across the

floor leaving a two-foot wide red smear.

Echoes slap the walls. Then all is still. Plaintive

whimpering and moaning. The air is blue with smoke.

Johnny is trying to catch his breath. He rips his shirt

open to see two deep indentations in the Second Chance

vest. Flattened .38 slugs caught in the Kevlar mesh. But

no blood.

Bodhi drops over the counter near Utah.

The two men look at each other.

Bodhi's eyes seem lost. He stares around at the carnage

he has wrought, the bloody wreckage of his ego game.

His expression changes to something new -- truly crazed

now. We feel that the madness which has been held in

check so long has been let off its leash.

BODHI

Don't anybody fucking move!

Roach, clutching his side, moves to Grommet, who is on his

knees.

Beneath LBJ's stony countenance a river of blood flows

down Grommet's chest. Roach pulls off the mask.

Revealing a terrified kid.

Grommet pulls his blood-drenched hand away from his

throat, stares at it bug-eyed.

GROMMET

Oh no, oh my god, oh god... it's all

comin' out man, gotta stop it...

it's all gonna come out... do

something!!

He's trying to hold it in with his hands. This doesn't

work.