U-Turn

                           U-Turn   

                            (Stray Dogs)

                           Screenplay by
                            John Ridley

                                and

                  Richard Rutowski & Oliver Stone

     NOTE: THE HARD COPY OF THIS SCRIPT CONTAINED SCENE NUMBERS
     AND SOME "OMITTED" SLUGS. THEY HAVE BEEN REMOVED FOR THIS
     SOFT COPY.

     EXT. SOMEWHERE IN THE DESERT SOUTHWEST - DAY

     BEGIN TITLES OVER:

     It is early morning and already hot.  INSECTS drone, crackle,
     and scurry for shade.  PRAIRIE DOGS burrow to escape the sun.
     We can see the heat shimmering off the surface of the Earth.

     On a dusty highway, a pair of VULTURES dine on a dead coyote.
     One of them snags an intestine and tugs a few feet of it out of
     the carcass.

     In the distance, where a long, dusty road meets the horizon, a
     small shape appears -- a Sixty-four-and-a-half Mustang
     convertible, its top down.  Its candy-apple red burns like a
     brilliant fireball under the sun.  As the car drifts closer, we
     see steam escaping from under the hood.  Sammi Smith's "Please
     Help Me Get Through The Night" plays on the car's radio.

     INT. BOBBY COOPER'S MUSTANG - DAY

     At the wheel, ignoring impending disaster, BOBBY COOPER, young,
     good-looking, fiddles with the RADIO dial, annoyed only to find
     country stations. He's been driving since noon yesterday and it
     shows -- along with a heavily-bandaged left hand resting on the
     steering wheel. He finds something by Pearl Jam or Smashing
     Pumpkins and he cranks it. He pops a Percodan with his good hand
     as, in the shimmering distance ahead, he sees black shapes in
     the road and lays on the horn.

                       BOBBY
             Get off the goddamn road!

     EXT. DESERT ROAD - DAY

     As the MUSTANG powers by, the VULTURES move off the shoulder,
     silently watching.

     INT. MUSTANG - DAY

     The RADIO blares as BOBBY fights to stay awake. His attention is
     caught by blue and red lights flashing in the oncoming lane. He
     sits up as the POLICE CAR (SHERIFF POTTER inside) closes
     quickly. The SIREN starts faintly, then SCREAMS as the cruiser
     roars past at speed.

                       BOBBY
             Fuck you!

     There is a loud pop from the front of the Mustang and a thick
     cloud of steam now pours from the hood. The temperature gauge
     now starts rising.

                       BOBBY
             No!...Not now!...Shit!

     A couple of SEMIS roar past in the opposite direction,
     buffetting the Mustang with their air waves.

     EXT. FORK IN THE ROAD - DAY

     The car rolls into a fork in the road, limping with the droop of
     an animal that won't make another hundred yards.

     One sign on the larger road says "GLOBE" is 29 miles away. The
     other sign, on the lesser road, tells us "SUPERIOR" is only 2
     miles. A third sign confirms his destiny with "Gas, Food, 1
     Mile."

     BOBBY seems to have no choice. He aims the car down the lesser
     road towards "Superior, Arizona."

     EXT. OUTSKIRTS SUPERIOR - DAY

     The car rattles on its last legs, as BOBBY mutters incantations,
     noticing a old, ghostlike MINING COMPANY at the base of the
     mountains overlooking the TOWN. It's deserted now, no one
     visible, the gates shut, but in its vast, dark bulk, we sense
     the ancient richness and power of this town. Bobby moves on.

     EXT. HARLIN'S GARAGE - DAY

     Down the road from the MINING COMPANY, BOBBY'S CAR pulls into a
     small GAS STATION, made of weather-beaten wood, its windows long
     since dusted over. The pumps themselves look to have been
     manufactured in the early fifties. Above the station is a sign
     so faded it's barely readable: HARLIN'S.

     Bobby gets out of the car and with great care, favoring his
     bandaged left hand which seems to give him a great deal of pain,
     he opens the hood. A plume of steam hits him in the face.

                       BOBBY
             Oh shit!

     Bobby looks around for someone, anyone.  After a few moments he
     reaches into the car and blows the horn.  He waits, then blows
     it again.  From out of the station walks DARRELL - a
     slow-looking man in coveralls caked with grease and dirty.  He
     looks the part of a yokel.

                       BOBBY
             You Harlin?

                       DARRELL
             Nope.  Darrell.

                       BOBBY
             Harlin around?

                       DARRELL
             He's up at the Look Out.

     Darrell points a scraggly finger at a plateau in the distance.

                       BOBBY
             Will he be back soon?

                       DARRELL
             Doubt it.  He's dead.  The Look Out's a
             cemetery.

                       BOBBY
             You own this place?

                       DARRELL
             Yep.

                       BOBBY
             Then why do you call it Harlin's?

                       DARRELL
             'Cause Harlin used to own it.

                       BOBBY
             But he's dead.

                       DARRELL
             So?

     Bobby is confused, but chooses to drop the matter.

                       BOBBY
             You want to take a look at my car?  I think
             the radiator hose is--

                       DARRELL
             Damn.  Gonna be another hot one today.
             Sometimes I don't even want to get out of
             bed. Course don't want to get out for the
             cold one's neither.  Then of course the
             clouds come in...

     Darrell mops his brow with a greasy rag.  It doesn't so much
     wipe the sweat as it does streak his forehead with dirt.

                       BOBBY
             Look, Harlin, I've got places to be.

                       DARRELL
             Darrell--

                       BOBBY
             OK. Darrell... Could you just take a look
             at my radiator hose.  It's busted.

     Darrell is clearly upset at being cut off.  He leans into the
     car and looks at the engine.

                       BOBBY
             So?

                       DARRELL
             It's your radiator hose.  It's busted.

                       BOBBY
             I know it's busted.  What did I just tell
             you?

                       DARRELL
             Well, you know so much why don't you just
             fix it yourself?

                       BOBBY
             If I could do you think I'd be standing
             here wasting my time.  Can you fix it, or
             do I have to go somewhere else?

                       DARRELL
             Somewhere else?  Mister, somewhere else is
             fifty miles from here. Only other gas
             station down in town closed 3 years ago
             when the mine got shut...

                       BOBBY
             Okay, I'm stuck.  You happy?  Now can you
             fix it, or not?

                       DARRELL
             Yeah, I can fix it.

                       BOBBY
             Great!

                       DARRELL
             Gotta run over to the yard and see if I can
             find a hose like this one, or close enough.
             Gonna take time.

                       BOBBY
             How much time?

                       DARRELL
             Time.

                       BOBBY (rewinds his watch)
             What time is it now?

                       DARRELL
             Twenty-after-ten.

                       BOBBY
             Jesus.  Twenty-after-ten and it must be
             ninety already.

                       DARRELL
             Ninety-two.  Course half hour from now
             might be seventy-two. These clouds move
             around a lot.

     Bobby wipes the bandaged hand across his forehead.

                       DARRELL
             What happened to your hand?

     Self-consciously Bobby quickly drops his hand to his side.

                       BOBBY
             Accident.

                       DARRELL
             You got to be more careful. Hands is
             important.  Let me show you something. When
             I was a kid, now I don't know if you can
             still see it, but I gashed my fingers in a
             lawnmower.

                       BOBBY
             I'm very interested in this but is there
             someplace...

                       DARRELL
             Diner up a piece.  Not much, but us simple
             folk like it.

                       BOBBY
             I'll be back in a couple of hours.  And be
             careful with her, will you?

     Darrell slams down the hood.

                       DARRELL
             Just a car.

     Bobby reaches into the car, pulls out a small ugly gym bag which
     he slings onto his shoulder and moves to the trunk, pops it open.

                       BOBBY
             It's not just a car. It's a sixty-four and
             half Mustang convertible. That's the
             difference between you and me, and why you
             live here and I'm just passing through.

     The trunk lid rises in the air, partially blocking Bobby from
     Darrell, acting as a partition between them.

                       BOBBY
             Now do you mind? I got to get some stuff
             out of the trunk.

     He throws the car key to Darrell who takes the hint, spits
     grotesquely into the dirt, scratches his nuts, and walks back
     to the shack.

     Concealed by the trunk lid, Bobby pulls out a GUN (a .9mm black
     Baretta), wrapped in a t-shirt, from the top of the bag. Perhaps
     we see a flash of green money, lots of it. Sports pages and
     betting sheets are piled inside. With a look around, Bobby takes
     the gun and stashes it underneath the rubber mat in the trunk.
     Briefly we notice a towing ROPE under the mat. There is a small
     travel bag, from which he peels a fresh bottle of Percodan,
     quickly taking two, as well as the sports page.

     INT. HARLIN'S GARAGE - DAY

     DARRELL watches out of the darkened office through the front
     window, as BOBBY slams the trunk and starts walking down the
     road, with the bag on his shoulder.

     EXT. DESERT ROAD - LATER

     BOBBY walks along a dusty patch of road into town past a sign
     saying "SUPERIOR - HOME OF THE GOLDEN DOOR RETIREMENT
     COMMUNITY." As he walks on, a pair of MOTORCYCLERS roar past on
     their Harleys blanketing him in a cloud of DUST.  He shouts
     after them, but his words are lost under the whine of the cycle
     engines.

     EXT. SUPERIOR MAIN STREET - DAY

     BOBBY hits town, such as it is:  The Freeway left here a few
     years back. There are only a few little stores:  A general
     store, a catalog outlet, a post office that doubles as a bus
     depot.  All of them built for the desert heat. The busiest spot
     in town seems to be the truckstop/diner with a few 18 wheelers
     parked outside it.

     At the corner of one street sits an old BLIND MAN dressed in
     raggedy clothes, perhaps an Indian. His SEEING-EYE DOG lies next
     to him. He's talking to TWO OLD MEN, veterans perhaps, Indian or
     Spanish. They both have missing limbs and slide off with furtive
     alcoholic looks as Bobby passes. The Blind Man yells out in an
     American Indian accent.

                       BLIND MAN
             Hey!  You there!

                       BOBBY
             You want something, old man?

                       BLIND MAN
             Don't call me old man.  Ain't you got
             no respect, boy?

                       BOBBY
             You want something?

                       BLIND MAN
             Yeah I want something.  I want you to run
             over to that machine and get me a pop.

                       BOBBY
             You can't do that yourself?

                       BLIND MAN
             Hell no, I can't do that myself.  I'm
             blind.  Can't you see that?

                       BOBBY
             I'm sorry, I didn't--

                       BLIND MAN
             What'd you think I was doing out here
             with these glasses on?  Sunnin' myself?

                       BOBBY
             I don't know.  I thought you were keeping
             the sun out of your eyes.

                       BLIND MAN
             I ain't got no eyes.  You want to see?

                       BOBBY
             Christ no!

                       BLIND MAN
             Lost my eyes in Vyee-et-nam.  Lost them
             fighting the commies.  Fought the war and
             lost my eyes fightin' the commies just so
             you can come around here and make fun of
             me.

                       BOBBY
             I said I was sorry.

                       BLIND MAN
             Don't be sorry.  Just run over there and
             get me my pop before I die of thirst.

                       BOBBY
             Yeah, sure.  You got change?

                       BLIND MAN
             Change?  You want my change?  I fought the
             war and lost my eyes just so I could give
             you my change?

                       BOBBY
             All right, old man.  Christ.

     Bobby walks across the street to a very old soda machine; it has
     bottles instead of cans.  The blind man shouts to Bobby.

                       BLIND MAN
             Get me a Dr. Peppa!  I don't want no Colas.
             Colas ain't nothing but flavored water.

     Bobby puts change in the machine and pulls out a bottle of Dr.
     Pepper.  He starts back to the blind man.

                       BLIND MAN
             Don't forget to open it for me.  I can't be
             opening my own bottle.

                       BOBBY
             Christ!

     Bobby goes back to the machine and opens the bottle, then walks
     back to the old man who pours a splash on the ground.

                       BLIND MAN
             A little for Mother Earth. I'm about fifty
             percent Indian, you know. To all our
             relations.

     He takes a hearty swig of the soda.

                       BLIND MAN
             Ah!  Just what I needed!  Want some?

     The blind man holds the bottle out to Bobby.  A string of saliva
     runs from his lips to the bottle's neck.

                       BOBBY
             I'll pass.

     Bobby reaches down and pets the old man's dog. Flies buzz around
     both the dog and the Blind Man.

                       BOBBY
             I think you'd better give your pooch a sip.
             He looks sick.

                       BLIND MAN
             That's 'cause he's dead.

     Bobby jumps back.

                       BOBBY
             Oh, Jesus.

                       BLIND MAN
             I hope you wasn't pettin' him none, was
             you?

                       BOBBY
             What the hell are you keeping a dead dog
             around for?

                       BLIND MAN
             He's only just dead.  What was I supposed
             to do with him?  I can't take him away
             anywhere.  And nobody wants to take him for
             me.  Do you?