and She Created first draft script, magda creates playmen


            MUSIC:	 symbolising the searching for 'first-love' which
            the two main characters are unknowingly undertaking. 

            EXT. SUBURBIA-1977-1 - DAWN 

            We see a 1977 suburban street of terraced houses. 

            We FAVOUR one house. A small business van parked outside. 

            The letters:	"JOHN THOMAS COMPUTER SERVICE" painted on
            it. 

            A small garden in front of the house. Garden RICH in
            flower. Early Spring. 

            The SOUNDS of suburban dawn ABOUND. 

            The first floor window of the house is open.

            INT. SAMANTHA'S BEDROOM-1 - DAWN 

            The room of a young woman, still 'girlish'. Walls adorned
            with worn idol pictures. A double bed a few steps from the
            open first floor window. 

            A 1977 style analogue clock radio on the bedside chair, a
            flip type calendar resting on its top. 

            The FIRST SOUND (very low) of the impending transition to
            the future. Over view of calendar.  

            The bedside clock radio hands show:	"7.05" 

            The date on the calendar is:	  'MONDAY,  APRIL 15, 1977' 

            The clock TICKS. Loudly. 

            SAMANTHA, a nubile, attractive, girlish woman and JOHN
            THOMAS (J.T.) An ageing, womanising bachelor, lie in bed.
            She sleeps, he on elbow, looking out of the open window at
            the coming day. 

            He looks smug after the 'night before'. He thinks:

                                J.T. (V.O.)
                      Another day another conquest,
                          (smiles, looks at Samantha)
                      and, today, 
                          (turns back to the window)
                      what will you bring me?

            He gets out of bed, discretely seen to be naked, puts on a
            dressing gown picked up from the floor and steps to the
            open window to sniff the dawn air.

            EXT. SUBURBIA-1977-THE STREET - DAWN 

            The SOUNDS of early morning suburbia awakening.         

            J.T. P.O.V.:	A suburban street from an upstairs window.
            Houses all terraced. Narrow road stretching into the
            distance. Its greenery conveying warmth. 

            A MILKMAN Some distance down the far side of the road is
            making deliveries.  

            CLINKING bottles. RATTLING crates from his milk wagon.

            EXT. SUBURBIA-1977- MR. THING.- DAWN

            The front door of the house directly opposite opens. 

            MR THING, a factory worker with cheesecutter hat, overcoat
            and trousers clipped up with bicycle clips appears pushing
            a bicycle. 

            MRS THING, in dressing gown and hair up in headscarf, close
            behind. 

            J.T. Mentally comments:

                                J.T. (V.O.)
                      Hello, Mr. Thing. Nice morning, wonder
                      where you're off to?

            Mr. Thing turns, kisses Mrs. Thing, mounts his bicycle and
            cycles off. 

            Mrs. Thing stands waving to him, then turns to the opposite
            direction, an expectant look on her face. She smiles.
            'Someone' is seen. She re enters the house leaving the
            front door ajar. 

            The milkman arrives outside the house, stops, extracts
            milkbottles from his milk wagon, proceeds towards the open
            door, milkbottles in hand. 

            J.T. Mentally comments.

                                J.T. (cont'd) (V.O.) (CONT'D)
                      Hello milky, wouldn't  like your job.

            The milkman glances cautiously around, smiles, shakes his
            head cynically and furtively enters the front door left
            ajar by Mrs. Thing. The front door closes. 

            J.T. Mentally realises.

                                J.T. (cont'd) (V.O.) (CONT'D)
                      Ha! ....Poor ole Mr. Thing!

            INT. SAMANTHA'S BEDROOM - SAM WAKES - DAWN 

            J.T. Amused by the happening opposite turns, steps back to
            the bed and sits on it to look at the sleeping Samantha. 

                                J.T.
                          (softly)
                      Everyone's at it, Sam, 
                          (beat)
                      just think, that would be you, over
                      there...
                          (indicates with a nod)
                      a few years from now, that is, if I
                      let you get to me.
                          (smiles, prods her)
                      Come on Sam. Wakey wakey!

            Samantha turns over and grunts. Half asleep.

                                J.T. (cont'd)
                          (cynically)
                      Sam, it's the morning after!

                                SAMANTHA
                          (sleepily)
                      No more John, ...no more.
                          (whining) 
                      I'm too tired.
                          (she pulls the sheets around
                           her)

            J.T. Stands.  Smiling proudly. The smile turns to
            nostalgia. He remembers the previous night.

            INT. SAM'S BEDROOM-THE PREVIOUS NIGHT - NIGHT 

            Samantha and J.T. Lie in bed after making love. She
            adulating, he casual. 

            Soft, background. "Seducing" MUSIC. 

            Samantha is infatuated with his manly deeds.

                                SAMANTHA
                          (adoringly)
                      I do love you John, I really do!

            J.T. Has heard it all before. He's selfishly had what he
            wanted. He nods, smiling in gratification returning the
            affection in the only way he knows.

                                J.T.
                      I know you do Sam.

            He cynically thinks:

                                J.T. (cont'd) (V.O.)
                      "They" always do, don't they? You old
                      stud, John!

            His thoughts return to the present.

            INT. SAM'S BEDROOM-OFF TO WORK - DAWN 

            J.T. Shrugs and stands, prods her with his foot.

                                J.T.
                      Look, I have to go. Want some
                      breakfast?

                                SAMANTHA
                          (sleepily annoyed)
                      Leave me alone. I'm tired.
                          (she moves deeper under the
                           sheets)

            J.T. Smiles. Turns and EXITS. 

            The TICKING of the bedside clock radio gets LOUDER. 

            SOUNDS of life slowly FADING, the FIRST SOUND replacing
            them. (Low level.)

            EXT. FUTURE SUBURBIA-1 - DAWN 

            The row of suburban terraced houses, 1977.  SHIMMER.  

            They are shimmeringly REPLACED by the row of FUTURISTIC
            terraced houses.

            FIRST SOUND fades to Absolute SILENCE 

            -- NOTHING is alive. 

            Futuristic houses have NOTICEABLY sterile, bare, small,
            concrete 'gardens' in front of each one. Everything
            REPLICATED in appearance. Little unimaginative boxes. Like
            something a computer would design. 

            We FAVOUR one house, MELT through its wall to;

            INT. MAGDA'S BEDROOM-1 - DAWN 

            Magda's bedroom. 

            Small, dimly LIT. The bed seemingly the FOCAL point of the
            room. Decor is futuristic. Vividly dull. No doors are
            visible. 

            A digital calendar clock mounted above the bedhead. Somehow
            not part of the wall, but visible. Like a projection
            hologram of a digital clock. 

            The clock displays:	'MONDAY,  APRIL 15, 2277, 7:12 a.m.' 

            It TICKS. In a soft PURRING manner. 

            MAGDA, a PERFECT, attractive, female specimen, sleeps on
            the bed. Dressed in a loose fitting, bland, full length,
            black cotton nightdress. No makeup on her face. 

            A soft chime ALARM. Repetitively. 

            Magda wakes and leans back, touches the bedhead. 

            The CHIME stops. The room is illuminated with soft
            pervading LIGHT. 

            Magda gets off the bed, rubs sleep from her eyes and
            stretches. She Touches the wall to the left of the bedhead,
            alongside it. 

            SHIMMER SOUND.

            The wall shimmers, DISAPPEARS, revealing a small wardrobe
            filled with garments.  

            Magda selects one white, plain, kaftan looking full length
            dress from within the wardrobe, walks further down the room
            to touch the wall there. 

            SHIMMER SOUND.

            This part of the wall shimmers, DISAPPEARS, turning into a
            small doorway. A shower entrance. 

            Magda EXITS into the shower. 

            Beat.

            The SOUND of an ultrasonic shower.

            INT. MAGDA'S BEDROOM-THE CUBICLE - DAWN 

            The wall to the right of this door, at right angles to it,
            has an horizontal cubicle within it. The cubicle can hold
            the supine form of a fully grown man lying down. The inside
            wall, above, and to the rear of this cubicle shimmers. 

            SHIMMER SOUND. 

            The shimmering wall changes into an opening. The opening
            revealed displays a futuristic computer screen. Not part of
            the wall, but visible. Like a projection hologram of a
            computer screen. 

            Magda re enters dressed in the garment she took with her.
            She Looks plain, no makeup. Very excited. Walks to stand at
            the cubicle. Looks into it. Something to enthuse her.

                                MAGDA
                      Let me have a look at you, 256.

            She bends, carefully examining two things O.S.
            Sequentially.

                                MAGDA (cont'd)
                      I thought so......
                          (affirming nod)
                      ...that darn Compu!
                      I will have to change those hands.

            Magda operates the computer by looking at its screen and
            moving her eyes over the text displayed. 

            The computer can see what area she looks at and when she
            closes the iris of her eyes, a learnt action, the computer
            knows this is the command she looks at and desires
            executed. 

            The computer screen glows, displays: 

            'ORGAN SELECT CONFIRMED' -- 'CONFIRMED 'flashes'.

            'LASER SCALPEL?'

            SHIMMER SOUND.

            Another part of the wall, above the computer, farther back,
            shimmers, DISAPPEARS. 

            A shelf. Rows of varying sized objects on it. Looking like
            jars but NOT jars. Magnetically enclosed volumes of space.
            All filled with milky looking liquid. Arrayed below the
            objects are rows of surgical looking instruments and a pair
            of spectacles. 

            Magda operates the computer again. The computer screen
            changes:

            'LASER-SCALPEL ACTIVE' -- 'ACTIVE' 'flashes'.

            Magda picks up the spectacles puts them on. Selects one of
            the instruments, a laser scalpel. Bends to use it O.S.
            Within the cubicle. 

            Two intense blue white LIGHT flashes. Coincident with use
            of the laser scalpel. 

            The SOUND of a pulsed laser coincident with each flash. 

            Magda replaces the instrument. Pushes some things aside
            within the cubicle, O.S. Sequentially. Stands back.
            Surveying the row of jar objects. Choosing, she selects
            one. Reaches to touch it.  

            Her hands DISAPPEAR through its walls. 

            She moves to OBSCURE the object from us. Takes something
            out, O.S. Puts the selected item within the cubicle.
            Meticulously positions TWO things, O.S, within the cubicle.
            Picks up the laser scalpel. Bends. Operates it again. With
            great care. 

            Many more blue white LIGHT flashes. 

            The SOUND of a pulsed laser coincident with each flash.

            Magda repeats the operation a second time. With great care. 

            Many more blue white LIGHT flashes. 

            The SOUND of a pulsed laser coincident with each flash. 

            Magda stands back. Replaces the instrument. Takes off the
            spectacles. Replaces them. Picks up two things,
            sequentially, from within the cubicle. Holds them O.S. In
            her left hand and operates the computer. 

            The computer screen changes to:	

            'LASER-SCALPEL INACTIVE'; 'INACTIVE' 'flashes'.

            'RE - CYCLE ORGANS?'

            Magda operates the computer again.

            INT. MAGDA'S BEDROOM-RECYCLE THING - DAWN 

            SHIMMER SOUND. 

            A small section of the wall, within the left end of the
            cubicle, changes into an opening. The recycle aperture.
            Large enough to accept a supine human body

            INT. MAGDA'S BEDROOM-THE HANDS - DAWN 

            We see:	Magda casually holds a pair of bloodless human
            hands neatly laser severed from a torso. 

            A pair of human feet belonging to a body. Bloodlessly
            white. Lying in the cubicle. Very near to the recycle
            aperture. 

            Magda casually drops the pair of human hands into the
            recycle aperture. 

            SHIMMER SOUND. 

            The recycle aperture, shimmers and changes into the end of
            the cubicle. 

            Magda stands back looking into the cubicle. Addressing
            something O.S.

                                MAGDA
                          (pleased)
                      There we are!
                      Now, all we have to do is,
                          (operates the computer)

            The computer screen changes to:'BLOOD SUPPLY TYPED AND
            READY'

                                MAGDA 
                      fill you up

            She pulls two plastic pipes from the rear of the cubicle.
            Attaches them to something O.S. Within the cubicle.

                                MAGDA (cont'd)
                      and set the auto re vive for,
                          (operates the computer again)
                      eight  today,...and, my lovely, you
                      will be ready for me tonight.

            Magda licks her lips in anticipation, turns, walks back to
            the wardrobe. Sorts among the clothes, choosing. 

            BACKGROUND SOUND of a pumping gurgling noise. 

            The computer screen changes: 

            'PLAYMAN 256:	FILLING '

             256, AS YET UNSEEN, IS BEING FILLED WITH BLOOD AS HE LIES
                                WITHIN THE CUBICLE.

            We see the pipes, connecting to something O.S., Within the
            cubicle, turn RED. Blood commencing to flow through them.

            INT. MAGDA'S BEDROOM-2 - DAWN 

            Magda ritualistically arrays a short mini skirt, knickers,
            very high stiletto heeled shoes and low cut blouse on the
            bed. She casts expectant looks towards the cubicle as she
            exits to O.S.

            The room LIGHTING dims. LIGHT only from the computer
            screen. 

            It displays:	'PLAYMAN NUMBER 256 HALF FULL' 

            In the very dim light a pale, naked, hairless man lies
            within the cubicle. As yet, unseen. Not yet alive. Blood
            pumping into him from attached pipes. 

            FIRST SOUND. The computer screen flickers. Changes to:	

            'MONDAY, APRIL 15, 2277, 7.15 am'

            'RE - VIVING PLAYMAN 256'

            The last bars of FIRST SOUND fade.

            INT. SAMANTHA'S BEDROOM-2 - DAWN .

            The bedside clock radio displays:	'7.15' 

            Samantha sleeps. J.T. Enters. Dressed for work carrying a
            breakfast tray. Walks to the bedside. Places the tray on
            the bed.

                                J.T.
                      Hey up, Sam, breakfast is served!

            Samantha stirs, sits up. Her nudity revealed. Starts
            rubbing her eyes.

                                SAMANTHA 
                      What?
                          (looks out of the window)
                      Oh,
                          (beat)
                      ...is it morning? 
                          (wakens further)

            J.T. Looks bored. Samantha slowly realises her nudity.

                                SAMANTHA
                      Oh, John, anyone could have seen me.
                          (pulls the sheets over
                           herself for cover) 
                      Why did you open the window?

                                J.T.
                          (cynically smirking)
                      'Anyone' deserves some pleasure,
                      doesn't he?

                                SAMANTHA 
                          (bitterly)
                      It's not funny! You don't take
                      anything seriously, do you?
                          (beat, bites her lip, unsure)
                      Even last night meant nothing to you,
                      did it?

                                J.T. 
                          (innocently)
                      Last night? What happened last night?

                                SAMANTHA 
                          (concerned)
                      Be serious John, please!  I do really
                      love you, you know. I wasn't just
                      saying all that last night.

                                J.T. 
                          (boredly)
                      I know you do Sam. 
                          (looks at the clock) 
                      Let's see how you feel in a few days
                      time, shall we?
                          (beat)
                      Eat your breakfast.

            He bends to kiss her forehead in fatherly like manner and
            exits. Samantha feeling it's 'over' becomes spiteful,
            shouts.

                                SAMANTHA 
                      Don't bother to come back!
                      I'm just your RECYCLED TOY!

            Long beat. 

            A vehicle door SLAMS. The vehicle STARTS. MOVES off into
            the distance. 

            Samantha throws herself back on the pillow. Sobbing
            violently. Sorry for herself. Unrequited love. 

            The clock radio displays:	'7.25' It switches its radio
            on. A RECORDING plays.    

            The row of suburban terraced houses, 1977. SHIMMER. 

            Radio MUSIC fades to FIRST SOUND.

            INT. MAGDA'S BEDROOM-3 - DAWN 

            The computer screen flickers, displays:

            'MONDAY, APRIL 15, 2277, 7.25 a.m.'

            'PLAYMAN 256 LIFE - FORCING'

            The interior of the cubicle commences to GLOW. Emitting
            LIGHT pulses from O.S. Within its base in an eerie manner.

            EXT. THE STREET-1977-1 - DAY  

            J.T. Is in his vehicle driving along a suburban road. He
            thinks.

                                J.T. (V.O.)
                      First call is to the bank, if instead
                      of DOS, they buy UNIX, .....boy!
                      ...I'll get twice the commission!
                          (smiles) 
                      Shan't say that it'll double operating
                      costs, though.
                          (long pause)

            His face takes on a wistful look as he continues driving.
            Philosophising mentally.

                                J.T. (cont'd) (V.O.)
                      Poor ole Sammy! Give her a few more
                      years, a few more encounters, and you
                      might go for her, you old stallion!

            He smirks, switches the vehicle radio on.

                                ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
                      It's 7.30, Next up we have (Title of
                      recording):

            SOUND of A RECORDING commencing to play.

            EXT. THE TRUCK-1 - DAY  

            A large heavy truck thunders down a major road. From the
            right of the T junction J.T. Will soon enter.

            FIRST SOUND.

            INT. FUTURISTIC REST ROOM-1 - DAY  

            The room is small, mundanely decorated in a futuristic
            manner. Three plastic looking chairs adorn it. 

            Two women, CATRINA  and WOMAN 2  occupy the room. BOTH drab
            looking. Dressed in identical Futuristic Kaftan looking
            full length work clothing. Entirely non sexy. No facial
            makeup. 

            Catrina sits in one chair. Woman 2  sits facing her. 

            Catrina holds a small futuristic TV monitor. Peers intently
            into it. 

            Woman 2 looks about. Searching for a conversation starter.
            Touches the arm of her chair. 

            The wall LIGHTS with a digital clock, there but not there.
            Like a projection hologram of a clock. 

            It displays: 	"7.40 a.m."

                                WOMAN 2
                          (slyly)
                      Magda is late today.

                                CATRINA
                      What? ....Oh, yes, she is, is she not.
                      We will have to speak to her about her
                      timekeeping, this is the third time
                      she has been late this period.
                          (puts the TV monitor down)

                                WOMAN 2
                      I think it is man trouble.

                                CATRINA
                      Man trouble?

                                WOMAN 2
                      Did you not know? 
                          (beat)
                      She has the most peculiar theories
                      about men. 
                          (leans forward, secretive)

                                WOMAN 2 (cont'd)
                      Why, she has not made one for five
                      minutes before she re cycles it to
                      make another!

                                CATRINA
                      Oh? What does she do that for?

                                WOMAN 2
                      I am sure I do not know. You had
                      better ask....

            Magda   ENTERS, interrupting.

                                MAGDA
                          (to Woman 2)
                      Good morning, ask who, what?
                          (apprehensively sits in the
                           vacant chair)

                                WOMAN 2
                      Oh, nothing, it does not matter.

                                CATRINA
                          (to Woman 2)
                      That is not what you said to me, dear,
                          (to Magda)
                      she wants to know what man you are up
                      to. 
                          (malevolent grin)

            Woman 2 looks 'discovered'. She dislikes Magda. Magda
            shrugs.

                                MAGDA
                      It is no secret, he will be number Two
                      Hundred and Fifty Six.

                                WOMAN 2
                      Two five six?

                                CATRINA
                          (cynically)
                      And, she refers to IT as 'HE'!

                                MAGDA
                      Well it is, is it not?

                                WOMAN 2
                          (smirking)
                      You will have to lend it to me before
                      I can tell you that!

            Catrina laughs, Woman 2 pleased.

                                MAGDA
                      I see, it is going to be one of
                      'those' days, is it

                                WOMAN 2
                          (pretending hurt)
                      Well, what do you expect, leaving all
                      the work for us.

                                MAGDA
                          (bitterly)
                      It is about time you did your share.

                                WOMAN 2
                          (to Catrina for help)
                      Well I never!
                          (to Magda)
                      If you want a fight,

                                CATRINA
                          (interrupting, interested)
                      Two five six?
                          (beat)
                      Really?

                                MAGDA
                      Of course, and HE will be completely
                      unique.

                                WOMAN 2
                      The bitch didn't answer...

                                CATRINA
                          (interrupting)
                      Quiet!

            Woman 2 feigns hurt. Catrina dislikes her. Speaks to Magda.

                                CATRINA
                      What went wrong with the other two
                      hundred and fifty five?

                                MAGDA
                          (quizzically)
                      Wrong? Nothing went wrong. They merely
                      did not bear out my theory so I became
                      bored with them.

                                CATRINA
                      Bored?
                          (beat)
                      I get bored with my fifteen, but I do
                      not re cycle it.
                          (beat)
                      Now it, IS the ultimate.

                                WOMAN 2
                          (cynically)
                      And you are fifty years older than
                      Magda,
                          (beat)
                      ....are you not dear?

                                MAGDA
                      That may be, but my two five six will
                      be unique.

                                WOMAN 2
                      On bed, I suppose.

            Magda looks daggers at her. Dislikes them both.

            INT. FUTURE REST ROOM-2 - DAY  

            Catrina is very interested, she continues.

                                CATRINA
                          (looking to Woman 2)
                      Oh, I see, she is developing the
                      ultimate in bedmates! 
                          (to Magda, smiling)
                      No wonder you are so late in the
                      morning, dear.

                                WOMAN 2
                          (spitefully)
                      Yes, and tell us why you are
                      specifying genitalia about ten times
                      the normal size. I looked up the one
                      you specified for this,.....this
                      .....two five six of yours, and it is
                      the biggest yet!

                                MAGDA
                          (offended)
                      Oh, you know that is not true.

                                CATRINA
                          (sneakily)
                      Well, dear, what have you been up to?
                      You can tell me, dear.

                                MAGDA
                      I have been experimenting with the men
                      I make for some time now.

            Woman 2  sniggers. A dirty mind. Magda ignores her.

                                MAGDA (cont'd)
                      Very slowly, I have come to realise
                      many things about the way we make our
                      playmen. Since it is purely an
                      empirical task, I have had to make a
                      lot of them.
                      My present playman, two five six, is
                      now re viving with several interesting
                      modifications to its physiology......

                                WOMAN 2
                          (cynically interrupting)
                      Like a big genitay --

                                MAGDA
                          (interrupting, continuing)
                      One factor my past experience has led
                      me to conclude, is, that all the
                      playmen we make are identical.

            Catrina and Woman 2 are incredulous. Magda savours this.

                                MAGDA (cont'd)
                      The re cycled organs Compu provides
                      have become standardised without us
                      realising. Only after forty years of
                      hard work did I realise this.

            Catrina and Woman 2 are very interested. Magda pauses,
            leans forward. A secret.

                                MAGDA (cont'd)
                      You see,
                          (pause, for effect)
                      the re cycled parts we use have been
                      merely shared about. Even the brains
                      still contain programmed material,
                      they have to for our playmen to obey
                      us from re vival time.

            Catrina and Woman 2 assent. They know some of this is true.

                                MAGDA (cont'd)
                      My two five six will have a sterile
                      brain. It will have to learn. It may
                      even attain an opinion of its own.

                                WOMAN 2
                          (disbelief)
                      Hah! Whoever heard of such a thing!

                                MAGDA
                          (ignoring her)
                      It will have unique, original brain
                      patterns, not just variations on one
                      re cycled theme.

                                CATRINA
                          (hurt)
                      You are wrong my fifteen IS unique!

                                WOMAN 2
                          (blurting out)
                      So is my one twent.....
                          (claps her hand over her
                           mouth)

            Magda smiles. She's not the only one! Catrina addresses
            Woman 2.

                                CATRINA
                      So you are at it as well?

                                WOMAN 2
                          (lame excuse)
                      Well, not for the same reason. I just
                      seem to wear them out.
[ top | next ]