Joe Versus the Volcano

Joe Versus the Volcano  

Screenplay by          John Partick Shanley

Produced by          Teri Schwartz

Directed by          John Partick Shanley

Cast List:

Tom Hanks       Joe Banks

Meg Ryan         Patricia

               Angelica

               Dede

Lloyd Bridges         Graynamore

Robert Stack         Dr. Ellison

Abe Vigoda         Chief of the Waponis

Dan Hedaya         Waturi

GREY SCREEN

The TITLE appears in white letters –

"JOE VERSUS THE VOLCANO"
 

MUSIC. Borodin's "Polovtsian Dances," Chicago Symphony Orchestra, begins to play. The stormy part.

THE CREDITS ROLL

The credits have that depressing, shitty, this is going to be one of those lousy black and white movies from the 1950s look. This is going to be one of those cheap teen sci-fi movies about a creature

MUSIC. When the female star's name appears, Borodin's theme, which will later become adapted into "Strangers In Paradise," plays. Then we return to the stormy part, which subsides as:

THE CREDITS END

The following LEGEND appears on the field of grey:

"You only live twice.

Once when you're born,

Once when you look death in the face.

– James Bond"

The LEGEND remains, but the field of grey turns to a rich texture of solid gold.

MUSIC. "The Girl From Ipanema," sung by the likes of Tom Waits, sung like it was the Downest blues song anybody ever croaked out just before the final curtain. The MUSIC starts as the field turns from grey to gold. The MUSIC PLAYS ON.

EXT. AMERICAN PANASCOPE CORPORATION – DAY

We're in color now, but it's a grey world. It's an ugly building about the size of a city block and a couple of stories high. It's surrounded by hurricane fence topped with barbed wire. Outside the fence is a muddy parking lot. On the fence is a sign that reads:

"AMERICAN PANASCOPE CORP.

a subsidiary of

ACHI"

The sign also has an abstract logo; a sort've German Expressionist's version of a lightning bolt. Another sign reads:

 "HOME OF THE RECTAL PROBE"

It's a grey winter's morning. It's raining or snowing or it just has or it's about to. There's a guard at a gate nodding workers inside the fence. They trail listlessly past him and continue on their way to the building's entrance. Most of them carry or are using grey or black umbrellas. Since they are coming from the parking lot, and since the entrance to the building is still almost a city block away once inside the fence, this straggling line of workers stretches hundreds of yards. Some of the workers wear hats.

We see the line of workers FROM HIGH OVERHEAD.

The line is in the same shape as the lightning bolt logo.

One of these workers is JOE BANKS. Joe is in his early thirties. He's wearing a beat-up black trench coat; under the trench coat he's got on a cheap and square jacket and tie. This is a depressed man. You can see where he could be cool, where he could have something on the ball. But he's way too beaten down and depressed to be cool. Joe steps in a puddle. He pulls his shoe out of the water. He notices the sole is coming loose from the shoe. This depresses him further. He walks on. The sound of the WATER SQUISHING in his shoe can be heard.

INT. PANASCOPE BUILDING – DAY

Joe is shuffling down the main walk in the building. On his left are doors leading to offices. On his right is the factory, which has the feel of an airplane hangar. The factory is separated from the walk on which Joe progresses by a heavy wire fence twelve feet high. Joe passes by a sign on this fence that says "Shipping." This area is filled with thousands of brown cardboard boxes; a shipping clerk among these boxes pulls a lever on a device; the device spews out several feet of wet brown tape. Joe continues on. He passes a sign on the fence that says "Canteen." This area contains a row of vending machines and two long tables; a guy who looks like he's going to die is sitting at one of the tables eating pink Hostess snowballs; he eats them in a slow, dismal way, as if they were giant sleeping pills. Joe continues on. He passes a sign on the fence that says "Quality Control." This is the biggest area; it's filled with workers in shower caps and worn white jackets; they work a distance apart from each other, at long tables; they are inspecting terrifying medical instruments. One of these workers, a middle-aged woman named Sally, attaches a catheter to an air pump. The catheter inflates and finally explodes. Sally seems satisfied. Joe continues on, his shoe distantly SQUISHING. He stops at one of the office doors on his left. The lettering on the door reads:

"ADVERTISING DEPARTMENT"
 

Joe opens the door and goes in. The SONG ENDS.

INT. ADVERTISING DEPARTMENT – DAY

The place is lit with those totally draining, deadening fluorescent lights. DEDE, a secretary in her late twenties, is sitting at her desk, typing. She's pretty, maybe a little hard.

She types like an automatic weapon. Her makeup doesn't really work under these lights. She nods briefly to Joe, and goes on with her typing. Joe tries to hang up his hat, but it keeps falling off the hook. He is endlessly patient. It's the sound of the typewriter that makes him miss. At last he succeeds. Behind Dede, at a bigger desk, is MR. WATURI. He's leaning back in an executive chair, talking on the phone. He's middle-aged, olive skinned, in a dark suit that shows up his significant dandruff. His teeth are yellow as rancid butter. And there's enough grease shining on his forehead to coat a skillet. He's talking into the phone.

WATURI

Yeah, Harry, but can he do the job? I know he can get the job, but can he do the job? I'm not arguing that with you. I'm not arguing that with you. I'm not arguing that with you

Mr. Waturi waves absently at Joe and goes on talking into the phone.

WATURI

Who told you that? No. I told you that. Me. What? Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

Joe hangs up his coat on the coat rack and goes to the coffee set-up at the rear of the office. He snaps a disposable plastic coffee cup into a permanent plastic holder. He puts a spoonful of instant coffee in the cup. Then a spoonful of powdered creamer. Then two spoonfuls of sugar. He takes a plastic stirrer and stirs the powders. He pours in the hot water and stirs. Little clumps of undissolved stuff rise to the top. Joe tries to break them up with the stirrer and partially succeeds. He feels the glands in his throat. Maybe they're a little swollen. He rubs his eyes. They're burning a little. He takes his coffee and walks past Mr. Waturi and into his own office.

INT. ADVERTISING LIBRARY – JOE'S OFFICE – DAY

The same fluorescent lighting. There's a small wooden desk which has on it an old electric typewriter and an out-of-place lamp; it's a lamp Joe brought from home. The rest of the office is almost entirely taken up with grey industrial shelving. On these shelves are brochures depicting various medical instruments. Samples of each brochure are taped to the appropriate shelf. Behind Joe's desk is a pipe that runs floor-to-ceiling and is painted fire-engine red.

In the center of this pipe is a big wheel valve. Hanging from this valve is a printed metal sign.

The sign reads: "THE MAIN DRAIN". Another sign reads: "DO NOT TOUCH". Joe turns on the lamp, which casts a small ring of golden light, and sits down with his coffee. He takes off his shoe and examines it. He tries to huddle close to the lamp, like a cold creature trying to get warm. Dede comes in.

JOE

Good morning, Dede.

DEDE

Hi, Joe. What's with the shoe?

JOE

I'm losing my sole.

DEDE

Yeah. How you doin'?

JOE

I'm a little tired.

DEDE

Yeah.

(she hands him some labels)

Here. Each one gets sent five catalogs.

JOE

Can't do it.

DEDE

Why not?

JOE

I only got twelve catalogs left altogether.

DEDE

Okay.

She leaves. Joe puts his shoe back on. Mr. Waturi comes in. Joe cowers. He's threatened by Mr. Waturi.

WATURI

How you doin', Joe?

JOE

Well, I'm not feeling very good, Mr. Waturi.

Mr. Waturi chuckles.

WATURI

So what else is new? You never feel good.

JOE

Yeah. Well. That's the problem. Anyway, I got the doctor's appointment today.

WATURI

Another doctor's appointment?

JOE

Yeah.

WATURI

Listen, Joe. What's this Dede tells me about the catalogs?

JOE

I've only got twelve.

WATURI

How'd you let us get down to twelve?

JOE

I told you.

WATURI

When?

JOE

Three weeks ago. Then two weeks ago.