Broadcast News

Broadcast News 

by

James L. Brooks.

FADE IN

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY

A restaurant supply truck is curbside, near a small
restaurant.  GERALD GRUNICK, forty-one, is closing the back
door of his truck, feeling good about the world, a common
state for him.  He moves towards the cab of the truck and gets
inside as we SUPER:

KANSAS CITY, MO. - 1963

INT. TRUCK - DAY

As he sits down beaming over his recent good fortune... now we
REVEAL his twelve-year-old son, TOM, seated quietly beside him.
He seems a bit down.  Gerald glances at his son.

GERALD
I don't know a recent Saturday I've
sold more.  You didn't think I'd
sell that health restaurant, did you?

TOM
No.  Not even you.

GERALD
Why so glum?

TOM
I don't know.

GERALD
(a beat)
Go ahead.

TOM
No, nothing.  I've got a problem,
I guess.

GERALD
Were you bothering by those
waitresses making a fuss?

TOM
No.  But, honest.  What are you
supposed to say when they keep
talking about your looks?  I don't
even know what they mean -- "Beat
them off with a stick."

Gerald stiffs a grin.

GERALD
You know, Tom, I feel a little
proud when people comment on your
looks.  Maybe you should feel that
way.

TOM
Proud?  I'm just embarrassed that
I like when they say those things.

GERALD
As long as that's your only problem
you're...

TOM
It's not.

He looks directly at his father and talks quietly, and sincerely.

TOM
I got my report card.  Three Cs,
two Ds and an incomplete.

GERALD
Oh my.  I see you studying so hard,
Tom.  What do you think the problem is?

TOM
I'll just have to try harder.  I don't
know.  I will.
(talking himself
into it)
I will.  I will.  I will.

He shakes his head for emphasis, glad he's received this pep
talk from himself -- he hands the card to his father.

TOM
Thanks, Dad, this talk helped.  Will
you sign it, please?

GERALD
(as he signs)
Would it help if I got you a tutor?

TOM
(suddenly hopeful)
That would be great.
(worried)
It better help.  What can you do with
yourself if all you do is look good?

SUPER THE LEGEND -- "FUTURE NETWORK ANCHORMAN"

FADE OUT

FADE IN

BOSTON, MASS. - 1965

INT. HIGH SCHOOL - AUDITORIUM - DAY

AARON ALTMAN, looking almost preposterously young in his
graduation gown -- is delivering his valedictory.  He is a
rare bread -- a battle-scarred innocent.

AARON
...and finally to the teachers of
Whitman High School, I don't have the
words to express my gratitude which
may have more to say about the quality
of the English Department here than
my own limitations...

He awaits a laugh and gets only the weird sound of collective
discomfort.

AARON
...that was, of course, not meant to
be taken seriously.  A personal note. 
I am frequently asked what the special
difficulties are in being graduated
from High School two months shy of my
fifteenth birthday.  I sometimes
think it was the difficulties
themselves which enabled me to do it.
If I'd been appreciated or even tolerated
I wouldn't have been in such a hurry to
graduate.  I hope the next student who
comes along and is able to excel isn't
made to feel so much an outcast.  But
I'm looking forward to college; this is
the happiest day I've had in a long
time.  I thank you and I forgive you.

This is very little applause.

ANGLE ON TEACHERS

MALE TEACHER
I'm always so confused by Aaron.
Is he brave and earnest or just
a conceited little dick-head?

BACK TO AARON AS WE SUPER: "FUTURE NETWORK NEWS REPORTER"

ANGLE ON STAGE

As Aaron walks to his seat past three full grown tough looking
semi-literate high school graduates.

YOUTH #1
Later, Aaron.

EXT. SCHOOL YARD - DAY

Clusters of graduates at the fence bordering the sunken school
yard looking down as the tough cap and gowners seen earlier
cuff Aaron around.

CLOSER IN

Aaron feeling from a blow -- his lip bleeding -- his teeth
covered with blood...as he gets to his feet.  He is livid --
something primal triggered by this brutality.

AARON
Go ahead, Stephen -- take your
last licks.
(points at his
face)
But this will heal -- what I'm
going to say to you will scar you
forever.  Ready?  Here it is.

He dodges as they come after him.  They catch him by the hair
and hurl him to the ground.  As he gets up he hurls his
devastating verbal blow.

AARON
You'll never make more than
nineteen thousand dollars a year.
Ha ha ha.

They twist his arm and grip him -- his face scraped on the
concrete.

AARON
Okay, take this:  You'll never
leave South Boston and I'm going
to see the whole damn world.  You'll
never know the pleasure of writing
a graceful sentence or having an
original thought.  Think about it.

He's punched in the stomach and sinks to the ground.  As the
Young Toughs walk off Aaron catches a phrase of their
conversation.

YOUTH TOUGH
Nineteen thousand dollars...
Not bad.

FADE IN

ATLANTA, GEORGIA - 1968

INT. SUBURBAN HOME - NIGHT

JANE CRAIG, ten years old, is in her room typing.  Above the
desk where she works is a bulletin board with letters and
pictures tacked to each one.  Her desk has several file racks
which contain bulging but neat stacks of air mail envelopes --
a roll of stamps in a dispenser is to one side.  Jane types
very well in the glare of her desk lamp.

JANE
(voice over; as
she types)
Dear Felatzia, it's truly amazing
to me that we live a world apart
and yet have the same favorite music.
I loved the picture you sent and
have it up on my bulletin board.
You're growing so much faster than
I am that I...

OTHER ANGLE

SHOWING Jane's FATHER standing near the door.

JANE
(voice over)
...am starting to get jealous.
I read in the newspapers about
the Italian strike and riots in
Milan.  I hope you weren't...

FATHER
(softly)
Honey?...

Jane SCREAMS, and grabs her heart, breathing heavily, babbles
nervously at her Dad.

JANE
Oh God -- Daddy -- don't...don't...
don't ever scare me like that --
please.

We SUPER:  "FUTURE NETWORK NEWS PRODUCER"

Her father is himself taken aback with the shock of her reaction.
Falling back towards the door:

FATHER
Jane -- For God's sake...
(recovering)
Look, it's time for you to go
to sleep.

JANE
I just have two more pen pals and
then I'm done.

FATHER
You don't have to finish tonight.

JANE
(he doesn't get in)
Nooo.  This way the rotation stays
the same.

FATHER
Finish quickly.  I don't want you
getting obsessive about these
things.  Good night.

We REMAIN WITH Jane who has obviously become disconcerted and
troubled.

INT. HOUSE - NIGHT

As Jane moves to room at the other end of the hall -- a family
room where her Father reads the latest Rolling Stone of the
mid-60's -- Hunter Thompson, the New Journalism, the slim
Jann Wenner -- Jane bursts into the room.

JANE
Dad, you want me to choose my words
so carefully and then you just throw
a word like 'obsessive' at me.  Now,
unless I'm wrong and...
(enunciating)
...please correct me if I am, 'obsession'
is practically a psychiatric term...
concerning people who don't have anything
else but the object of their obsession --
who can't stop and do anything else.  Well,
Here I am stopping to tell you this.  Okay?
So would you please try and be a little
more precise instead of calling a person
something like 'obsessive.'

She advances furiously on her Father since even this strung out,
even with two additional pen pal letters to get off, she had
enough sense of duty to kiss him good night before storming from
the room.  She exits the room INTO BLACK.

Stay on BLACK as we begin MAIN TITLES:

OVER EXT. SMALL MID-WESTERN CITY - DAY

Emerging from the blackness -- Jane Craig -- now a
twenty-eight-year-old woman -- a long speed walker wearing a
jacket to which reflecting stripes have been glued -- the kind
of gear only possessed by someone who runs at off-hours.  The
Jacket itself is a wish-I-had-it souvenir from some important
news assignment, the sort of treasure you love about all else
yet never mention.  She stops running as she feeds quarters into
the first of a phalanx of newspaper machines -- getting seven
different papers before moving on.

INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY

As she enters from the bathroom, having showered and dressed.
The sun is jus now rising.  She sits next to her phone.

INSERT:  JANE'S ROOM

The Filofax book is almost an additional character -- a crucial
hand-fashioned tool of Jane's trade.  She flicks at a page --
takes down a typewritten sheet scotch-taped to it showing the
room number of her crew and reporter.

ON JANE

As she dials one room number.

JANE
(into phone)
Hi...It's me...

INT. DUPLICATE MOTEL ROOM - DAY

ANGLE ON CAMERAMAN -- his equipment in evidence though
essentially asleep holding his bedmate's hand, as he listens
to Jane.

JANE'S VOICE
(voice over)
It's thirty minutes before you have
to meet me in the lobby -- nudge
your wife.

BACK TO SCENE

JANE
There's probably no time to eat...
but there's a cafeteria at the bus
depot once we get down there.  I
love working with you two...It
saves me a call.

She dales.

INT. DUPLICATE MOTEL ROOM

Where Aaron is switching his TV from station to station,
monitoring the early morning news.  His PHONE RINGS.

AARON
Hi.  Turn on your TV...
Good Morning America, the
Morning News and Today are all
about to talk to Arnold
Schwarzenegger and I think he's
live on at least two of them.

BACK TO SCENE

JANE
At six o'clock on the wake-up
news they used the wrong missile
graphic.

AARON
(Austrian accent)
Now listen, Arnold just said that
he's been making three million a
movie now.  But he's not ever
gonna change.  He's still the same
person when he was making two
million dollars a movie.  He feels
no different.  He also bought a brand-
new condo with Maria, they gonna
furnish tastefully.

JANE
A half hour in the lobby.

AARON
(Austrian accent)
Okay, I'll see you in the lobbies [sic].

She hangs up -- takes the phone off the hook and lays it on the
bed for a moment's solitude.  She sits stiffly, palms on top of
her legs.  It looks like someone with unusually good posture,
waiting for something, and now we BEGIN TO SEE the first signs
redden and she begins to cry.  Now she sobs -- then miraculously
shakes it off and exits quickly to the bathroom.  This crying
episode is clearly part of her morning routine.

INT. BUS STATION - DAY

Jane standing behind her husband-wife - camera-sound team
as they train their attention on Aaron; who is getting ready to
do a stand-up.  There is a DERELICT off to one side.  Aaron holds
his microphone at the ready.

AARON
Ready.
 
CAMERAMAN
Your hair's a little funny.

AARON
It's an ethnic curl, I can't do
anything about it.

CAMERAMAN
In front of a little -- it's a bit...
You want a mirror?

AARON
No -- Don't worry about it.  Let's
do this.

Jane nods her assent.

CAMERAMAN
Okay.

AARON SEEN THROUGH CAMERA

AARON
In other times, for other purposes,
there might be a band and bunting
here at the bus depot for J.D. Singer's
return from war.  He...

JANE
(interrupting)
I'm sorry.  But look at how
wonderful his face is.

She points to the derelict.

AARON
Oh, you mean use him...That's
nice.  Okay.

CAMERAMAN
I'll put him in the low corner of
the frame -- good.

AARON
In other times, with other purposes,
there might be a band and bunting
here at the bus depot for J.D. Singer's
return from war.  Last week he was
decorated by a president for heroism
in a war.  But it was the civil war --
in Angola -- and he was in it for the
money.

He puts the microphone down.

AARON
Thanks.

He passes a vending machine and checks the stray hair.

INT. GATE AREA - DAY

Jane in the distant b.g. on the phone.  Aaron and crew shooting
as the bus pulls up, hisses to a stop and tired, rumpled
passengers exit the bus.  J.D. SINGER, strong, 9'6" figure
emerges and is displeased to find a camera trained on him.
He reacts with all the grace of a short mercenary.

J.D.
Go 'way.

J.D. gets his luggage from the compartment under the bus.  The
crew shooting.

AARON
Just a few questions?

J.D.
No.

He starts walking -- the four person newsteam staying with him.

AARON
We came from Washington.

J.D.
Move away from me.

AARON
(holding out
microphone)
How long has it been since you've
been home.

J.D.
(moving)
Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuckes.  Snot...
Fuckee.  You want to use that?

AARON
It depends on how big a news day it
is.

They reach Jane.  She calls to him.

JANE
J.D.  I'm Jane Craig.  I spoke to
you in Angola.  I gave you some
sugarless gum and Handi-Wipes.

As he reacts to her:

INT. JANE'S ROOM - NIGHT

Jane sitting next to Aaron making detailed timing notes as she
screens the material shot that day on a portable monitor unit.

AARON
Where's where I asked him about
being scared?
(then)
You should work on your speech.

JANE
No.  It makes me nervous to think
about it.  Let's do this.

She consults her notes and goes back to the exact spot.

AARON
(on tape)
All this business of war -- do you
get scared?

J.D.
(on tape; he smiles)
Uh-uh.
(then)
I'm a little freaked right now about
seeing my father though.

He laughs self-consciously and turns briefly away.

JANE
I love that turn away.

INT. AUDITORIUM - DAY

Jane is at the lectern in the darkened auditorium as two large
monitors display some taped news pieces she has assembled.  On
the lectern is a sign telling us we are at the Conference of
Local Television News Broadcasters.

JANE
(in darkness)
There's a point I'm trying to make
about these pieces coming up.

A WOMAN'S OUTLINE blacked out from behind -- her VOICE
ELECTRICALLY DISGUISED.

WOMAN
(o.s.; angrily)
I don't think any client of mine
makes less than fifty thousand dollars
a year which means they can afford the
best and you're damn right I feel good
that that includes me.

CUT TO:

ANOTHER ANGLE - ANOTHER WOMAN
in blackness, her VOICE DISGUISED.

WOMAN TWO
(o.s.)
No.  You'd be surprised at who a
working girl meets.  I've been a
working girl for what? -- over a year
anyway and that must be a thousand
men and I don't think there's an age
or type that hasn't been in there.

INTERVIEWER'S VOICE
(voice over)
Policemen?  -- Doctor? -- Lawyer...?

WOMAN TWO
(o.s.)
Oh, sure.  Television reporters.

A laugh from the audience.  There is a:

CUT TO:

ANOTHER ANGLE - FULL FIGURE
A WOMAN in blackness.