COPYCAT

COPYCAT 
Third draft by
Frank Pierson

Participating writers:
Ann Biderman
Jay Presson Allen

 INT. LECTURE HALL BERKELEY - DAY

 The hall is full.  On the stage, DR. HELEN HUDSON is
 speaking.  HELEN is a forensic psychologist.  Behind her is
 a projected diagram: PREDISPOSITION, DISSOCIATION, TRAUMA,
 FANTASY, VIOLENT FANTASY, FACILITATORS, MURDER, and
 TRAUMA-REINFORCEMENT which she can point to with a laser
 pointing device.  We see her from a considerable
 distance... the back of the balcony.  Her voice is crisp and
 assured.

    HELEN
  Our society creates these socially
  and psychically disenfranchised
  men, and their revenge on society
  is terrible.  They are hard to
  catch.  They are "the nice guy next
  door," their employers -- if they
  work at all -- find them quiet and
  uncomplaining.  Early abuse and
  rejection have taught them
  passivity.  Only in their violent
  fantasies do they feel alive.  What
  they seek in their frenzied
  assaults on their victims is relief
  from passivity.  For these men, ten
  minutes relief is worth far more
  than the life of another human
  being.  Torture, the pain they
  inflict, the screams of the victim,
  are all part of the ritual that
  gives them a brief respite from
  their own psychic pain.  And then
  the depression, the forgetting, the
  feeling of sadness and despair
  begins the cycle all over again.
  Like addicts seeking their drug,
  Albert DeSalvo, Bianchi and Buono,
  Berkowitz, Dahmer, Bundy -- they
  seek out their next victim.

 During the second half of this speech, the eye of the camera
 has moved slowly forward until it settles just behind the
 balcony railing.

 CLOSEUP: HELEN

    HELEN
  The cycle is endless until they are
  caught.  And they are caught by
  chance -- they run a red light, and
  a body is in the trunk.  A leaking 
  pipe brings a plumber to a basement
  where they is the smell of death.

 Her eyes have come to rest on the spot of the camera eye in
 the balcony... Her voice chokes off.  She stares.

 HELEN'S POV:

 Sitting in the front row of the balcony, a YOUNG RED-HEADED
 MAN (DARYLL LEE CULLUM) leans forward, resting his tattooed
 arms on the railing.  He smiles intimately at HELEN.

 HELEN cuts her eyes to the left.  She sees:

 Backstage, an overweight COP in plain clothes.  Instantly
 alert to HELEN'S alarm, he jumps up, comes within an inch of
 exposing his presence to the audience.  A SECOND COP, in the
 wings on the other side of the stage, also springs to
 attention.  FIRST COP'S eyes follow HELEN'S...

 Their POV:  THE BALCONY - YOUNG RED-HEADED MAN is no longer
 there.

 HELEN  Can she believe her eyes?  Resumes:

    HELEN
  At any time, right now, as you
  listen, the FBI estimates there are
  30 to 35 serial killers stalking
  their victims.  The serial killer is
  a plaque that must be addressed not
  only by the law, but by science.
  Florida spent eight million dollars
  to execute Ted Bundy.  It would
  have been better spent building a
  forensic penal facility devoted to
  research.

 Once again her eyes fix on the balcony to reassure herself
 that the smiling man is not there...

    HELEN
  Confined for life, without parole,
  and subjected to scientific study,
  these men's lives might finally, in
  some small measure, educate and
  thereby protect society.  Thank
  you.

 Applause as Helen warily checks for the TWO COPS.  They are
 carefully casing the crowd.

        CUT TO:

 LATER:

 The crowd is breaking up.  FIRST COP walks HELEN to the
 ladies' room.  People reach to shake Helen's hand; she copes
 as well as she can with her fear.  THEY LEAVE THE STAGE
 THROUGH A DOOR OPENING TO A CORRIDOR LEADING BACK TO
 DRESSING ROOMS AND A LADIES' ROOM...

        CUT TO:

 INT. LADIES' ROOM - DAY

 THE COP, clearly embarrassed, pokes his head in and looks
 around.  Under one stall he sees a woman's HIGH HEELS.  He
 hastily ducks back into HALL and signals an okay to Helen.
 Before the door behind her closes, we see the COP prepare to
 stand guard outside.  HELEN walks past the stall with the
 high heels to a stall several doors down.

 CLOSE UP HIGH HEELS:

 And a tattoo that the cop missed seeing on one of the
 ankles.  The shoes are kicked off.  The feet disappear from
 view as

 HELEN, a few stalls away, methodically places toilet paper
 around the seat before raising her skirt.  A faint noise
 makes her freeze.  Her hand reaches for the door.  She is
 just able to unlock it, but no more, before a NOISE COMES
 DOWN FROM THE NEXT STALL.

 Like a lariat it falls over HELEN'S head and is violently
 yanked tight.  She kicks at the stall door.

 CORRIDOR: COP, leaning against outside door smoking, hears
 the clang of metal as the stall door bangs open. He
 reacts...

 INT. LADIES ROOM - CONTINUED

 The RED-HEADED MAN is struggling to secure the rope around a
 hook inside his own stall.  KNOCKING (o.s.)

    COP (o.s.)
  Doctor Hudson?  Are you okay in
  there?

 The MAN lets slip a little slack.

 HELEN'S fingers, thrusting between the rope and her neck,
 get just enough air for HELEN to let out a strangled little
 scream.

 CORRIDOR: COP, not certain what to do about the ambiguous
 sounds from inside.  Women stands nearby, inhibiting him for
 a split second from going in the Ladies' Room door.  Now
 there is more SOUND from inside...

 INT. LADIES ROOM - CONTINUOUS

 COP steps into the room, gun down.  Over the COP'S shoulder
 we see HELEN hanging in open booth, her hand fluttering at
 her throat.  She has one slippery shoeless foot on the
 toilet seat.

 COP takes a couple of steps forward.  Behind COP'S back we
 see a broom closet door opening.

 HELEN'S POV: CLOSE UP: The COP, taken from behind.  In a
 second, his throat is slit.  In a gush of  blood, he falls,
 his gun still in his hand.

 RED-HEADED MAN standing over the fallen COP, smiling at
 HELEN.

 COP'S BODY IS TWITCHING, JERKING.  The violent contractions
 in his fingers cause the gun to go off... ONE... TWO SHOTS,
 the sound reverberating against the tile walls.

 STAGE AREA

 The audience and SECOND COP react to the gunshots.
 HELEN, her eyes bulging, struggling against the rope.

        SLAM CUT:

 INT. HELEN'S APT - SAN FRANCISCO - NIGHT

 As HELEN, in bed, bolts up from the nightmare, her hands try
 desperately to pull the dream rope from her neck.  She is now
 pale, her hair is dirty, there are deep circles under her
 eyes.  This is a woman in the throes of a breakdown.

    HELEN
  Andy!  Andy!

 She races through this LOFT APARTMENT (THE WALLS ARE EIGHT
 FEET UNDER A TWELVE-FOOT CEILING) to study opening off a
 hall.  She looks in, gasping for breathing...

 INT. STUDY - CONTINUOUS

 The room is neat -- nobody there.  (We will later see that it
 is used on and off by her computer, Andy.)

 HELEN whimpers in frustration; she is alone.  SHE TALKS TO
 HERSELF as she turns back and moves past a LIVING ROOM,
 where she turns on lights and the TV flicks on, (COURT TV.)
 The sound comes up, loud... She moves on... trying to calm
 herself with the sound of her own voice...

    HELEN
  It is October twelfth, 1994 in the
  city of San Francisco, California,
  U.S.A., the strongest, richest,
  most stable and happiest country in
  the world.  That is the sole place
  of life in the universe.  Under
  God.

 CLOSE: XANAX BOTTLE.  Two pills are shaken out into a palm,
 others scattering from the nervous haste...

 CLOSE: HELEN  Watching herself in BATHROOM mirror as she
 tosses down the pills, gulps water.  She regards her haggard
 reflection with a certain detachment...

    HELEN
  Good God.  What happened to you?

 She barks a rueful laugh... we are seeing a woman will
 herself from near-hysteria to relative calm...

        CUT TO:

 HALL  As she exits the bathroom.  And moves into her OFFICE.
 She pours herself a brandy and stands before two computers.
 Of the side-by-side computer screens, one is blank.  The
 other shows a chess setup.  Flashing on the bottom of the
 screen comes a command.

    CHESSMASTER
  'It's almost seven.  Make a goddam
  move.'

 She studies the chess set-up for a moment, then makes a
 move.  She has not even hit the Keyboard of the other
 computer before CHESSMASTER sends another message.

    CHESSMASTER
  'Lousy move.  Not really into this
  game, Helen.  Let's drop it.  I've
  got a feeling about you.  Let's
  meet.  Like a date.'

 HELEN types the following to CHESSMASTER.

    HELEN
  'I'm a terrible date.  I'd mess up your
  life.'

    CHESSMASTER
  'Another romantic dream gone all to
  hell.'

    HELEN
  'Maybe it's better to just dream
  on; avoid the disappointments of
  life.  Come on, move.'

 She pushes a button on the remote, and we see the window
 curtains open.  BRIGHT SUNLIGHT STREAMS IN!  We see that the
 T-shirt HELEN wears says "Shrinks 'R' Us."  She crosses to
 the window with her glass of cognac, looks out.

 VIEW:

 A sweeping view of the bay, and across to Marin County.  The
 morning sun is dispelling the last of the night's fog.
 HELEN opens window, puts a hand outside, trying to feel the
 air, the freedom.  Feeling quite restored from the dream
 horror of the night...

 O.S., THE PHONE RINGS.  HELEN.  A FRISSON.

 CLOSE: PHONE  Her hand comes into FRAME and picks up the
 handset and carries CAMERA TO CLOSEUP HELEN.

    HELEN
   (carefully)
  Yes?
   (listens)
  You son-of-a-bitch!  Son of
  a bitch...

 Stiff with fear and rage, she slams down phone.

    HELEN
  You filthy... son of a bitch!

 On the computer screen behind her the Chessmaster makes his
 move: the computer speaks in its tiny computer voice:

    COMPUTER
   (filter)
  You Queen is in check.
  Protect your Queen.

 OVER CREDITS:

 HOME MOVIE of a young woman dressed in a seat suit.  It is
 morning, and she is jogging on a park path.  Her hair is in
 a long braid.  She is sweating, breathing heavily, clearly
 near the end of a satisfactory run.