SUPERMAN VS. SUPERMAN

SUPERMAN VS. SUPERMAN   
(SUPERMAN III)

by

David Newman and Leslie Newman

                                                                        Director:          Richard Lester
Producers: Alexander Salkind

Ilya Salkind

Pierre Spengler

FADE IN:

INT. UNEMPLOYMENT BUREAU - DAY

ON A WOODEN SIGN HANGING FROM THE CEILING. IT READS:

Metropolis Unemployment Bureau
 

PAN DOWN TO A ROW OF “TELLERS’ CAGES” with long lines of PEOPLE waiting to collect their unemployment checks. A sign above the first window says “A - F”, the second window is designated “G - L” and so on.

CLOSE ON THE SECOND WINDOW --  Waiting his turn at the head of the line is a BLACK MAN in his early 30’s. He kills time by trying to make a beat-up old wooden yo-yo perform the basic up-and-down maneuver, but he‘s not very good at it. He looks as if he’s down on his luck: shiny pants, slightly frayed collar, an old windbreaker. One of life’s chronic losers, he is one of those individuals who continue to believe in themselves despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. This is GUS GORMAN.

Behind the teller’s wicket is a middle-aged female CLERK with the requisite officious manner and heart of stone common to her profession. As the MAN ahead of GUS finishes his turn and walks away, she barks out:

                                                            CLERK

                                                Name?

                                                            GUS

                                                      (as he tries to

                                                       untangle his

                                                       yo-yo string)

                                                Gus Gorman.

She pulls his folder from her file, opens it, scowling.

                                                            CLERK

                                                Ah yes, August Gorman. Have

you looked for work this week,

Mr. Gorman?

GUS

      (this is a familiar

        routine to him)

Yeah.

CLERK

What kind?

GUS

Kitchen. . . Technician

CLERK

Dishwasher? Any luck?

GUS

Nope, but --

CLERK

Mr. Gorman, according to our

records you have been unemployed

for 36 weeks.

GUS

Thirty-five.

CLERK

Not counting this week.

       (looking at his folder)

You secured employment last June

as a messenger and were discharged

after one day for. . .

GUS

They said I lost it on the subway, but

it ain’t the truth! It was a pickpocket

took it!

CLERK

A television set?

GUS

Well, it was one of them little bitty

two-inch screen Japanese jobs.

CLERK

The only other employment you

found was in a fast-food joint--

     (consulting dossier)

-- which lasted. . . 28 minutes! Well!

That’s some kind of record. Talk about

fast!

GUS

      (protesting)

Man, them people was crazy! How they ‘spect

you to learn all that jive on the first day? “Hold

the pickle! Hold the lettuce! Extra onions!

Special sauce! No special sauce!” Ain’t nobody

found no meat inside that glop yet.

CLERK

Mr. Gorman, the city of Metropolis is

generous to a fault, but. . .

GUS

I know, I’m the fault.

CLERK

Thirty-six weeks of chronic unemployment,

thirty-six weeks of living off the taxes of

hard-working citizens. Do you know what

you are?

GUS

Don’t call me a bum! I ain’t no bum!

CLERK

You are, I was about to say, no longer

eligible.

GUS

      (stunned)

What about this week’s check?

CLERK

      (dismissing him summarily

Next!

The MAN behind him steps up to the counter as a frustrated, miserable GUS walks away. FOLLOW GUS. Muttering to himself about the injustice of it all, he starts for the exit, feeling in his pocket for his cigarettes. he takes out a crumpled pack, pries the paper open and fishes out his last smoke. . . a bent, shabby-looking cigarette. He puts the sorry object in his lips and searched his pockets for a match. No luck.

NEW ANGLE -- He walks over to a MAN waiting on one of the lines, smoking a cigar.

                                                            GUS

                                                Hey brother, got a match?

The MAN hands him a matchbook. GUS takes it and is about to open it and light his cigarette, when the printing on the matchbook catches his eye. He looks closely at it.

INSERT - TIGHT POV: One of those matchbook advertisements for a home-study course. There is a little line drawing of a smiling, successful man, and the sell line:

“EARN BIG MONEY.

BECOME A COMPUTER PROGRAMMER”

HOLD ON THIS TIGHT C.U. OF THE MATCHBOOK AND FREEZE FRAME.

Music:              The stirring Superman theme begins.

THE TITLES OF THE MOVIE APPEARS SUPERIMPOSED OVER THESE IMAGES.

                                                                                                                        CUT TO:

EXT. METROPOLIS STREETS - DAY

(NOTE: The following sequence, which occurs during, under, and with CREDITS is designed as an elaborate, spectacular series of events based on the Rube-Goldberg principle, i.e., a serial development of cause-and-effect, escalating in scope and size. The “gimmick” that further marks this sequence is as follows:

At the moment when each new development of “effect” is just about to manifest itself, the FRAME FREEZES and the next CREDIT (actors, composer, writers, director, etc.) appears. Then the FRAME UNFREEZES, the inevitable action takes place, leading to the next event in the chain of cause-and-effect until that perfect next moment comes when again there is a FREEZE FRAME, a CREDIT, and so on.

In the following, we have refrained from indicating exactly where each FREEZE FRAME and CREDIT should be, as that is more precisely discovered in the editing process. Thus:)

ESTABLISHING SHOT -- The busy streets of Metropolis on a typical weekday morning. Hustle and bustle, PEDESTRIANS and vehicles. It’s nine-o’clock and people are on their way to work. As theme music continues, the sequence begins.

1.         Coming out the front door of a building is an absolute knockout of a GIRL: voluptuous, sexy, young, and healthy. Her every step casues a series of mind-boggling ripples. She is seemingly oblivious to the effect she has on passers-by. About 25 years old, this is somebody we will be seeing much more of later. LORELEI AMBROSIA.

2.         As she walks AWAY FROM CAMERA, her rear end reminding us of the proverbial  puppies fighting in a sack, a GUY walking down the street from the opposite direction turns to ogle at her and therefore doesn’t look where he’s going. He bumps into a table-top tray of  TOY WIND-UP PENGUINS being sold by a VENDOR. The PENGUINS, about 20 of them, go waddling off in different directions up and down the street.

3.         A split-second later, a MAN IN A CAP, also walking in the opposite direction, comes abreast of LORELEI, turns to look at her, doesn’t see that right in front of him (he’s near the curb) is a street-sign post. He slams into it face first.

4.                   Clutching his smashed nose, he recoils backwards with a great lurch, banging full-

force into a GIRL ON ROLLER SKATES.

5.            Knocked off balance, wobbling erratically, she swerves and srashes into a hot dog wagon on the corner of the street. Standing there, buying a morning snack, is the DAILY PLANET photographer and cub reporter JIMMY OLSEN, on his way to the office. The HOT DOG VENDOR has put a frank on a bun and os about to squirt the mustard on it when the ROLLER SKATER crashes into the hot dog wagon. The mustard squirts on Jimmy’s face instead and the wagon goes rolling away with considerable momentum.

6.         On the corner of the next street are three telephone booths, side by side. In each booth is a CALLER. The LAST CALLER, A WOMAN, holds onto a leash, which dangles outside her phone booth. On the end of this leash is a LITTLE DOG, waiting patiently outside while his mistress talks on the phoneinside. The hot dog wagon, picking up speed, hits the first phone booth with considerable impact.

7.                   Causing a domino effect: the first booth tips over, with the GUY still inside it. and hits the second booth, tipping it and its OCCUPANT over, and that in turn knocks over the third booth, causing the LADY inside to lose her grip on the leash. Immediately the LITTLE DOG, startled by the crash, goes charging off down the street, trailing his leash.

8.                   Further down the street is a BLIND MAN holding the handle of the harness attached to his SEEING-EYE DOG stands in a doorway. As the LITTLE DOG comes running by, the SEEING-EYE DOG gets excited and pulls free of his MASTER, chasing the other DOG. Startled, the BLIND MAN staggers out into the street, feeling for his DOG, just as:

9.                   A AWHITE-LINE ROAD PAINTER workman is coming down the avenue, holding the handle of his motorized line-painting machine, which he is guiding precisely down the center of the street, painting, AS WE SEE a straight white line. He is distracted by the CHARGING DOGS and lets go of his machine momentarily. A moment later, the BLIND MAN staggers out into the road, reaches out and grasps what feels exactly like the handle of his Seeing-eye Dog harness. It ain’t. It’s the line-painting machine.

10.               Which now continues down the road guided by a BLIND MAN, and the white line being painted curves, zig-zags, and bends so that any motorist trying to follow it would go berserk.

11.               In the meantime, strolling down a side-street, with the characteristically springing step, affable smile for the world, neat suit, hat, and glasses comes none other than CLARK KENT. He suddenly jumps back as the LITTLE DOG comes whizzing by and instinctively reaches down with super-speed to grab the leash. This he does, but if the leash stops, the DOG doesn’t. Instead the leash pulls free of the collar, leaving a bemused CLARK standing there holding an empty leash.

12.               The DOGS whiz by the MAN IN THE CAP (fellow who keeps banging into things and getting hurt). As he leaps back to avoid them, he falls into an open manhole.

13.               In the middle of the street, the white-line maker “guided” by the BLIND MAN, is heading for the area of the street where the open manhole is. The BLIND MAN loses control of the white-line painter and is about to step into the open hole, when:

14.               The now-capless bald head of the MAN IN THE CAP emerges from the manhole, just in time for the BLIND MAN to step right on it (like            a man crossing a pond by stepping on the stones). The BLIND MAN, busy whistling for his missing dog, never noticed how near to disaster he came, but the bald head of the poor MAN IN THE CAP is now imprinted with a black sole marl.

15.               The white-line roller, with nobody steering it, crashes into a little barrier that has been set up on the other side of the open manhole. Customary smudge pots mark the barrier. The white-line roller hits a smudge pot.

16.               The smudge pot goes rolling across the gutter, stops. From another direction comes one of those TOY PENGUINS. It hits the smudge pot and is immediately set on fire by the flame.

17.               The now flaming PENQUIN continues walking across the street, towards a newspaper stand. Stacked on the curb beside it are a bundle of as-yet-unopened newspapers. The burning toy comes to a stop against the stack, which begins to smoulder.

18.               Further down the street is a bank. And just at this moment, running out of the bank, a gun in one hand, a sack of stolen money in the other, comes a BANK ROBBER. A BANK GUARD races from the bank and gives chase. The BANK ROBBER doesn’t see:

19.               A MAN removing a ladder (the kind which hooks onto clamps from the side of a van truck). As the MAN and ladder turn, the ladder hook grabs the ROBBER’S hands. The MAN WITH THE LADDER, never realizing what he has done, swings round 180 degrees with the ladder and the money bag is pulled off the ladder by:

20.               The wires of a scaffold where some BUILDING REPAIRMEN stand, just about to go up the side of a building. A second after the sack is deposited on the platform, the scaffold starts to rise.

21.               The BANK GUARD fires at the ROBBER, but his shot misses and hits the windshield of a passing car. The windshield shatters and the DRIVER crashes into a fire hydrant on the curb.

22.               Water gushes out of the hydrant, filling up the interior of the car like a goldfish bowl, the DRIVER trapped inside.

23.               Across the street, the flaming newspapers have set the entire kiosk on fire.

24.               Hearing the screams and shouts, CLARK KENT looks down the street and sees what’s happening. Quickly, he looks around for a place to metamorphose sees none.

25.               HE dashes down the street, pausing for a regretful look at the three phone booths on their sides (no way for him there). He spots an open storefront with one of those Photomat Booths inside, enters it, behind the curtain. We hear a coin drop in the slot; the OCCUPIED sign goes on; the lights flash. A moment later, bursting out of the booth. . . SUPERMAN!

26.               He’s just about to take off, when he does an “Oops!” as he remembers: the four photos drop into the receptacle. AS he turns to go back and get them, a KID wanders by and SUPERMAN grabs them out of his hand. ON THE PHOTOS: They show the change. PHOTO 1” Clark.  2. Clark with glasses off, shirt unbuttoned. 3. Further along. 4. SUPERMAN. Quickly he tears off the fourth picture and hands it to the astonished KID.

27.               SUPERMAN lands on top of the car . . . now totally filled with water. Quickly, he rips open the sun roof, reaches inside and hauls the soggy DRIVER out. Then, jumping to the ground, he lifts the car off the hydrant, sets it down, then jams the broken hydrant back into the sidewalk, thereby stopping the gushing water.

28.               Across the street, the kiosk is engulfed in flames. SUPERMAN lifts the car, flies across the street with it and turns it upside down over the fire. The water gushes out and douses the flames.

29.               JIMMY OLSEN, watching from the sidewalk, sheers:

JIMMY

                                                Way to go, Superman!

30.               Up high on the outside of the building, the WORKERS on the scaffold turn to look

down at what’s happening on the street. ONE OF THEM kicks the sack of money over the side as he turns to look.

31.               In the playground of the park on the next street, a YOUNG MOTHER (or a NANNY) lifts a little TODDLER from a baby carriage and sets him on one of end of a see-saw. Now she starts to walk around it to the other end so that she can give the little fellow a gentle see-saw ride. But before she gets there, the falling money bag lands full force on the (up) end of the see-saw.

32.               Which causes the other end to fly upwards, catapulting the TODDLER straight up in the air. The YOUNG MOTHER screams.

33.               The BABY lands in the topmost branches of a tree and howls.

34.               SUPERMAN sees the problem, flies down and rescues the TODDLER. He hands him to the YOUNG MOTHER and flies off.

35.               THE TWO PAINTERS are on a scaffold, about two stories up on the side of a building. One of them turns abruptly as he spots SUPERMAN flying by:

FIRST PAINTER

                                                   (to CO-WORKER)

                                                Mike, looks who’s here!

            And as he turns, he inadvertently licks over one can of paint on its side, Paint slowly

starts to drip out and over the side.

36.               QUICK PAN DOWN TO STREET LEVEL BELOW WHERE WE LOOK through

the window of a posh Art Gallery. Inside, a DIGNIFIED GENTLEMAN is paying a large sum of money to the OWNER as his purchase, a large oil painting in gilt frame, is being moved toward the door by the GALLERY WORKERS.

37.               The DIGNIFIED GENTLEMAN exits the gallery first. As he steps out, the first drops of paint from the tipped-over paint can above starts to fall. He automatically opens his umbrella at the first sign of falling moisture.

38.               After a pause, there seems to be no more precipitation. He closes up his umbrella. A second later, the entire can of paint falls on his head.

39.               He reels backwards from the blow and crashes into a penny gumball machine on the sidewalk (outside an adjacent candy store).

40.               The gumball machine crashes to the ground, the glass globe breaks and a hundred little gumballs roll onto the sidewalk.

41.               Way down the street, the BANK ROBBER is fleeing from the pursuing BANK GUARD, constantly looking over his shoulder to see if he’s gaining on him.

42.               On the other side of the art gallery, PATRONS in a sidewalk café are being entertained by one of those STREET PERFORMERS seen everywhere lately . . . a second-rate Marcel Marceau, i.e. a white-faced, black leotard-garbed MIME. The MIME is doing the classic routine of a man climbing a hill against a strong wind. He doesn’t see the gumballs rolling toward him until it is too late. Desperately trying to maintain his routine, his feet start going out of control, faster and faster. he loses balance completely and falls ungracefully on his ass.

43.               The BANK ROBBER dashes down the street, COPS giving chase, and trips on the fallen MIME. The sudden halting of his rapid forward motion sends him falling straight forward just as:

44.               The oil painting is being carried out of the gallery to a nearby car. The BAN KROBBER goes head-first right through the painting.

45.               On the other side of the painting, a TEENAGER dribbling a basketball is knocked down by the ROBBER. The basketball bounces and goes flying through the air.

46.               It lands in the cooker of a Hot Fog Wagon, which has finally come to a stop against the side of a building. The heat causes the basketball to swell . . . and swell . . .

47.               CLARK KENT, in civvies again, comes out of a doorway.

48.               ON THE BASKETBALL which swells to the bursting point and explodes. Pieces of rubber and strings of hot-dogs go flying into the air.

49.               On street level, LORELEI AMBROSIA comes jiggling down the street, still having no idea of the events she set in motion.

50.               Ahead of her, halfway down the block, a panel truck, its doors open, is parked in front of a bakery. A DELIVERY MAN emerges from the bakery, carrying a tray of custard pies.

51.               The bakery’s DELIVERY MAN doesn’t see the hot dogs rolling on the sidewalk. He steps on them, trips. This causes:

52.               A custard pie to fly up into the air, heading right for the unsuspecting kisser of LORELEI, who is walking the other way.

53.               CLARK spots what is about to happen and, with a very deft move, slides in front of the momentarily startled girl and, in the same motion, reaches one hand up and catches the pie neatly just when it was inches away from her face. Still in one smooth motion, CLARK whisks it away and out of sight like a very clever waiter, as LORELEI, who never noticed, continues on.

54.               What CLARK doesn’t notice, though, is the bruised battered MAN IN THE CAP who turns the corner exactly at this second and walks smack-on right into the custard pie in CLARK'’ outstretched hand.

CLARK

                                                Oh! Sorry about that.

55.               As the MAN IN THE CAP stands there wiping pie off his face, CLARK steps to the

curb and waits for the light to change so he can cross.

56.               NEW ANGLE -- A big truck comes down the street. There’s a large puddle on the gutter, the residue of an early morning rain. The curbside tires run through the water, causing it to splash CLARK. AS the big splash hits him, this is THE FINAL FREEZE FRAME and the FINAL (DIRECTOR’S) CREDIT.

ON CLARK -- He looks down in mild dismay. His pant legs are soaking wet. Quickly, he turns and walks into the park entrance. FOLLOW HIM as he sits down on an unoccupied bench. Trying not to call attention to himself, he opens his newspaper, pretends to read it. It is today’s DAILY PLANET.

CLOSER ON CLARK -- He looks around to make sure nobody is noticing him. Nobody is. Satisfied, he raises his glasses and looks down at his wet pants.

EFFECTS:  The red rays of Heat Vision emanate from his eyes, aims at his pants as he extends his legs on the park bench. In a second, the pants are magically dries and re-pleated.

                                                CLARK

                                       (to himself)

                                    Neatness counts.

Satisfied, he continues to walk to work.

As CLARK walks OUT OF FRAME, PAN UP to the second floor of a small building, the kind where there’s a store on the ground floor and a few offices above it. PAN STOPS on the window, on which is lettered:

ARCHIBALD DATA PROCESSING SCHOOL

INT. DATA PROCESSING SCHOOL ROOM - DAY

A bunch of students are clustered around INSTRUCTORS, who sits at the keyboard of a small computer, demonstrating.

                                                            FIRST STUDENT

                                                But what if you want to program two

                                                bilateral coordinates at the same time?

                                                            INSTRUCTOR

                                                You can’t. It’s impossible.

                                                            FIRST STUDENT

                                                Computer technology is quite advanced,

                                                young man, but it can’t do that.

A voice from the assembled students is heard:

                                                            VOICE

                                                     (hesitantly)

                                                Uh. . .

The GROUP parts to reveal GUS GORMAN. HE mumbles and reaches over to the keyboard. H punches some buttons while the INSTRUCTOR looks on with a patronizing smile. Suddenly the INSTUCTOR’S expression changes to one of astonishment.

                                                            INSTRUCTOR

                                                Good Lord! How did you do that?

                                                            GUS

                                                      (shrugging)

                                                Just did it, that’s all.

EXT.  DAIILY PLANET - DAY

ESTABLISHING SHOT of the office building.

INT.  PERRY WHITE’S OFFICE  -  DAY

INSERT --  On a 8 x 10 photograph laying on a desktop. It shows a handsome MAN in his mid-40’s, wearing black tie, standing up at a formal dais table, holding a plaque. A captain of industry who has taken pains to present himself as a “regular guy,” this is ROSS WEBSTER.

As CAMERA studies this photo, we hear the voice of PERRY WHITE asking:

                                                            PERRY (o.s.)

                                                Who’s this?

                                                            JIMMY (o.s.)

                                                That’s him, Ross Webster. This was just

                                                after they presented him with the award

                                                for Humanitarian of the Year.                     

                                                            LOIS (o.s.)

                                                Good-looking.

                                                            JIMMY (o.s.)

                                                That’s because I gave him f.2 at a 50th.

FULL SHOT  --  Three PEOPLE are in PERRY’S office, looking at photographs spread out on a table. Shirtsleeves rolled up, tie knot loosened -- that’s PERRY WHITE. Surrounded by a great many shiny, chic shopping bags and looking particularly fetching and cheerful today is LOIS LANE. Displaying the photos is JIMMY OLSEN.

                                                            PERRY

                                                Olsen, there’s one thing I don’t

understand. The point of the story

Lois wrote is how the Ross Webster

got this great honor. You bring me one

photograph of him and fifteen pictures

of this person!

As he says this, he points to a bunch of other photos on the desk:

ON THE PHOTOS --  They are various shots of the same GIRL whose wiggle caused all the chaos on the streets before: LORELEI AMBROSIA. She is seated at the banquet dais in a low cut gown. As we SEE these, PERRY’S speech continues:

                                                            PERRY

                                                Who is she?

                                                            JIMMY

                                                Her name’s Lorelei Ambrosia. She’s

                                                Webster’s Girl Friday.

                                                            LOIS

                                                Oh, I think Saturday, too.

NEW ANGLE -- As PERRY takes another photo from the pile and studies it.

                                                            PERRY

                                                Who’s the other woman?

                                                            JIMMY

                                                That’s his sister. Vera Webster.

                                                            PERRY

                                                The picture looks blurry.

                                                            LOIS

                                                The picture’s fine. That’s the way

                                                she looks in real life.

INSERT:  ON THE PHOTO -- Showing a no-nonsense, severe-looking woman in

her late 40’s. This is Ross’ older, spinster sister: Vera Webster.

                                                            JIMMY (o.s.)

                                                She’s vice-president of Webco

                                                Industries.

ON THEM

                                                            PERRY

                                                You’re amazing, Olsen. A boring

                                                banquet and you bring back 3,000

                                                boring pictures. Then Superman puts

                                                out a fire on Third Avenue this morning

                                                and you stand there and watch the whole

                                                thing and you don’t take one picture!!

                                                            JIMMY

                                                I didn’t have my camera with me.

                                                            PERRY

                                                     (exasperated)

                                                A photographer eats with his camera,

                                                A Photographer sleeps with his camera --

                                                            LOIS

                                                Glad I’m a writer.

At which point, the door opens and a grumpy, middle-aged WOMAN enters, pushing a bizarre object on wheels before her. The WOMAN is MISS HENDERSON from Circulation Department. The thing she pushes is one of those revolving drum Bingo machines with a hand crank on the side that turns a cog, which makes the hundreds of little white plastic balls churn about until one of them falls into the chute. Attached to it is a big promotional sign, which reads:

                                                “JINGO! Daily Planet Big

                                                Prize Bingo, by JINGO!!”

From this ANGLE we can SEE that in the adjacent office, behind the glass, is a bulletin board with JINGO written over it and a MAN waiting in there.

                                                            MISS HENDERSON

                                                Mr. White, please, it’s time for you

                                                to draw this month’s winning JINGO

                                                number.

                                                      (to LOIS)

                                                The prize is an all-expenses trip to

                                                South America.

                                                            PERRY

                                                      (irritated)

                                                Why can’t the idiot in Circulation who

                                                dreamed up this imbecile contest in the

                                                first place ---

                                                            MISS HENDERSON

                                                Because you’re the Editor-in-Chief. Your

                                                integrity is unquestioned.

                                                            LOIS

                                                I have a question.

Suddenly coming through the door is CLARK KENT, almost tripping over the shopping bags around LOIS.

                                                            CLARK

                                               Hi, Lois. Morning, Jimmy, you’ve got

                                                mustard on your lapel. Excuse me, Mr. White,

                                                I don’t mean to interrupt but ---

                                                            PERRY

                                                Please, Kent, not now. I’m trying to put

                                                out a newspaper here.

And he starts cranking the Bingo machine.

                                                            LOIS

                                                It’ll never replace the printing press,

boss.

MISS HENDERSON

     (impatiently)

What’s the number, Mr. White?

CLOSER ANGLE -- PERRY pries apart the plastic ball; it splits into two half-spheres. Inside is a folded piece of paper. He removes it, unfolds it, reads it.

                                                            PERRY

                                                      (unenthusiastically)

                                                53.

                                                            MISS HENDERSON

                                                       (calling out in piercing

                                                         tones to the next office)

                                                53!

SEEN THROUGH THE GLASS DIVIDER” THE MAN in the next room tacks the number 53 up on the board.

                                                            PERRY

                                                Okay? Goodbye.

                                                            MISS HENDERSON

                                                You’ve got to pick three more numbers.

Furiously, PERRY starts to crank the machine again.