- —四川最大高校综合门户网
Niki Wurster Mao Guangqin 2 1 2000-01-23T12:51:00Z 2000-01-23T12:51:00Z 24 10319 58820 Pumpkin Software 490 117 72235 9.2504 1 21 0 0 Taxi Driver Screenplay by PaulSchrader Produced by Michael Phillips JuliaPhillips Directed by
DOUGH-BOY
Could you see anything?
WIZARD
Well, she was trying to keep her skirt down, sort of,
you know. But it was pretty obvious what she was doing. I mean, Christ, it was
rush hour and the traffic's practically standing still.
DOUGH-BOY
What did you do?
WIZARD
Threw on the emergency, jumped the seat and fucked her
brains out – What do you think!
(they laugh)
What do I have to do? Draw you a picture?
DOUGH-BOY
Yeah.
WIZARD
What was I supposed to do? I was watching in the rear
view. You know, just checkin' traffic.
(to Travis)
So howsit?
TRAVIS
(w/o inflection)
Some fleet driver for Bell just cut up. Just heard it
on the radio.
DOUGH-BOY
Stick up?
A WAITRESS brings Travis' coffee and a glass of water. He asks for a
cheeseburger.
WIZARD
Sure. What do you think? She wanted to get out of the
cab. I said "Look, you're in the middle of the fucking bridge..."
DOUGH-BOY
You said that?
WIZARD
Well, I said, "Lady, please, we're on a
bridge..."
DOUGH-BOY
And what happened?
Travis awaits Wizard's answer.
WIZARD
She stayed in the cab, what's she gonna do? but she
stiffed me. A real skunk.
DOUGH-BOY
A real skunk.
Wizard realizes Travis and Dough-Boy may not have met.
WIZARD
(paternal)
Travis, you know Dough-Boy, Charlie T.?
Charlie T. nods sleepily. Travis indicates he knows Dough-Boy.
DOUGH-BOY
Yeah. We went to Harvard together.
(laughs)
WIZARD
We call him Dough-Boy cause he likes the dollars.
He'll chase a buck straight into Jersey.
DOUGH-BOY
Look who's talking?
(gestures around table)
Who else would stay up all night to catch the morning
rush hour?
Travis sips his coffee. Charlie T.'s eyelids slip shut.
TRAVIS
No, just some crazy fucker. Cut have his ear off.
DOUGH-BOY
Where.
TRAVIS
In the jungle. 122nd.
Travis' eyes turn toward the restaurant's other patrons.
POV: THREE STREET PEOPLE sitting at a table. One GUY,
stoned, stares straight ahead. A raggedly attractive GIRL rest her head on the shoulder of the other,
a heavily bearded YOUNG MAN with a
headband. They kiss and tease each other, momentarily lost in their separate
world.
Travis watches the hippie couple closely, his feeling sharply divided between cultural contempt and morose jealousy. Why should these people enjoy the love and intimacy that has always eluded him? He must enjoy these schizoid emotions, because his eyes dwell on the couple.
DOUGH-BOY
(changing the subject)
You run all over town, don't you, Travis?
WIZARD
(referring to 122nd St.)
Fuckin' Mau Mau land, that's what it is.
Travis turns back to his companions.
TRAVIS
Huh?
DOUGH-BOY
I mean, you handle some pretty rough traffic, huh?
TRAVIS
(catching on)
I have.
DOUGH-BOY
You carry a piece? You need one?
TRAVIS
Nah.
(a beat)
I suppose not.
Waitress slaps down smudge-marked glass of water, and a cheeseburger plate that looks more like a shrunken head on a serving platter.
DOUGH-BOY
Well, you ever need one, I know a feller that kin
getcha a real nice deal. Lotsa shit around.
WIZARD
The cops and company raise hell they find out.
Travis drops two Alka-Seltzer into his glass of water.
DOUGH-BOY
Truck drivers bring up Harlem Specials that blow up in
your hand. But this guy don't deal no shit. Just quality. If you ever need
anything, I can put you in touch.
WIZARD
For a fee.
DOUGH-BOY
For a fee.
WIZARD
I never use mine. But it's a good thing to have. Just
as a threat.
DOUGH-BOY
(getting up)
well, if there's this many hackies inside, there must
be lots of hares outside. And I'm gonna hustle 'em.
WIZARD
What ya gonna do with all that money, Dough-Boy?
DOUGH-BOY
Support my kids. Can you dig it?
(pause)
nice to meet ya, Travis. So long, Wizard. Say hello to
Malcolm X for me.
(nods to Charlie T.)
Charlie T. remains unmoved: He is sleeping.
Dough-Boy exits. Travis smiles perfunctorily, then looks back at Wizard. They really don't have much to talk about, and the Wizard doesn't care to manufacture any more conversations.
Travis scans the greasy spoon: The scene is unchanged.
CUT TO:
BETSY MEETS TRAVIS BICKLE
EXT. PALANTINE HEADQUARTERS – ANOTHER DAY
Traffic passes.
INT. PALANTINE HEADQUARTERS
Tom and Betsy are talking. She takes out a cigarette. He takes out matches to light it.
BETSY
Try holding the match like this.
TOM
This is gotta be a game, right?
BETSY
(putting on glasses)
This I gotta see.
TOM
(burning fingers)
Ouch!
BETSY
(giggling)
Oh, are you all right?
TOM
I'm great. Always set my fingers on fire. If you want
to see another trick. I do this thing with my nose.
BETSY
No. I just wanted to see if you could light it that
way. The guy at the newsstand can.
TOM
Ah, yes, the guy at the newsstand, Mr. Asbestos...
BETSY
He happens to be missing fingers. I first noticed when
–
TOM
Is he Italian?
BETSY
No, why?
TOM
You sure he's not Italian?
BETSY
He's Black, OK?
TOM
Well, If he had been Italian, they could have been
shot off. Sometimes the mob does that to teach guys a lesson, If they blow a
job or something.
BETSY
As I said, he isn't Italian. Besides, I thought they
just killed them.
TOM
Don't be naive. They can't kill everybody. They have
different punishments for different things. Like, if they kill a stool pidgeon,
they leave a canary on the body. It's symbolic.
BETSY
Why don't they leave a pidgeon instead of a canary?
TOM
I don't know. Maybe they don't leave a canary. Don't
be technical. What I'm saying is if this newsstand guy's Italian and his
fingers are gone, maybe he's a thief.
BETSY
First, he's not Italian. Second he's not a thief. I
noticed the fingers when he was getting my change – the right change. Two of
his fingers are missing. Just stubs. Like they were blown away. I was putting
my change in my purse when I saw him get out a cigarette. I couldn't help
watching. I was dying to see how he'd light it.
TOM
With the other hand, right?
BETSY
No, stupid. With the stubs. That's the whole point.
TOM
I know that guy. His hand looks like a paw. An old
Black guy, the newsstand at –
BETSY
No, this is young – well, I'm never sure how old Black
people are – but, anyway, he isn't old. That's for sure.
TOM
Show me how he did that again.
EXT. ACROSS THE STREET FROM HEADQUARTERS
Travis is striding briskly across Broadway toward the Palantine Headquarters.
He s dressed the best we have seen him; his pants (not jeans) are pressed, his boots shined, his hair combed. Under his Army jacket he wears a freshly laundered shirt and ivy league tie. He drops his cigarette, steps on it and walks in.
Watching Travis enter Palantine's Headquarters, we are surprised to realize that Travis is really quite attractive. His deformities are psychological, not physical. He believes he is cursed, and therefore he is.
Travis walks briskly into the office, and heads toward Betsy's desk. Tom walks over to greet him, but Travis ignores him.
TRAVIS
(at Betsy's desk)
I want to volunteer.
As the CAMERA examines Travis' face more closely, one can see the hollowness wrought by lack of sleep and sufficient diet.
TOM
(at Betsy's desk)
If you'll come this way.
Travis elbows Tom off.
TRAVIS
(to Betsy)
No. I want to volunteer to you.
TOM
(under his voice)
Bets.
Betsy is momentarily taken back, but pleased. Travis' presence has a definite sexual charge. He has those star qualities Betsy looks for: She senses there is something special about the young man who stands before her. And then, too, there is that disarming smile. He is, as Betsy would say, "fascinating".
BETSY
(smiling)
Is that so?
(pause)
But what do you think of Charles Palantine?
TRAVIS
(his mind elsewhere)
Who mam?
BETSY
Charles Palantine. The man you want to volunteer to
help elect president.
TRAVIS
Oh, I think he's a wonderful man. Make a great, great
president.
BETSY
You want to canvass?
TRAVIS
Yes, mam.
Betsy is interviewing Travis back a bit. He obviously doesn't have the slightest idea what Palantine's stand on welfare is, in fact, he doesn't have any idea about politics whatsoever. Travis thinks a moment, then improvises an answer:
TRAVIS
Welfare, mam? I think the Senator's right. People
should work for a living. I do. I like to work. Every day. Get those old coots
off welfare and make 'em work for a change.
Betsy does a subtle double-take: This isn't exactly Palantine's position on welfare. She remain intrigued by Travis.
BETSY
Well, that's not exactly what the Senator has
proposed. You might not want to canvass, but there is plenty more other work we
need done: Office work, filing, poster hanging.
TRAVIS
I'm a good worker, Betsy mam, a real good worker.
BETSY
(gesturing)
if you talk to Tom, he'll assign you to something.
TRAVIS
If you don't mind, mam, I'd rather work for you.
BETSY
Well, we're all working tonight.
TRAVIS
Well, Betsy mam, I drive a taxi at night.
BETSY
Well, then, what is it you exactly want to do?
TRAVIS
(bolstering courage)
If you don't mind, mam, I'd be mighty pleased if you'd
go out and have some coffee and pie with me.
Betsy doesn't quite know what to make of Travis. She is curious, intrigued, tantalized. Like a moth, she draws closer to the flame.
BETSY
Why?
TRAVIS
Well, Betsy mam, I drive by this place here in my taxi
many times a day. And I watch you sitting here at this big long desk with these
telephones, and I say to myself, that's a lonely girl. She needs a friend. And
I'm gonna be her friend.
(smiles)
Travis rarely smiles, but when he does his whole face glows. It is as if he is able to tap an inner reserve of charm unknown even to himself. Betsy id completely disarmed.
BETSY
I don't know...
TRAVIS
It's just to the corner, mam. In broad daytime.
Nothing can happen. I'll be there to protect you.
BETSY
(smiles)
All right.
(relents)
All right. I'm taking a break at four o'clock. If
you're here then we'll go to the corner and have some coffee and pie.
TRAVIS
Oh, I appreciate that, Betsy mam. I'll be here at four
o'clock exactly.
(pause)
And... ah... Betsy...
BETSY
Yes?
TRAVIS
My name is Travis.
BETSY
Thank you, Travis.
Travis nods, turns and exits.
Tom, who has been watching this interchange with a pseudo-standoffish (actually jealous) air, steps over to Betsy. His manner demands some sort of explanation of what Betsy was doing.
Betsy simply shrugs (it's really none of his business) and says:
BETSY
I'm just going to find out what the cabbies are
thinking.
CUT TO:
COFFEE SHOP RENDEZVOUS
Travis is pacing back and forth on Broadway just beyond the Palantine Headquarters. He checks his watch.
TRAVIS (V.O.)
April 26, 1972. Four o'clock p.m. I took Betsy to the
Mayfair Coffee Shop on Broadway...
INT. COFFEE SHOP
Travis and Betsy are sitting in a booth of a small New York Coffee Shop. They both have been served coffee; Travis is nervously turning his cup around in his hands.
As Travis speaks VOICE OVER, WAITRESS brings their orders: Apple pie for Travis, fruit compote for Betsy.
TRAVIS (V.O.)
I had black coffee and apple pie with a slice of melted yellow cheese. I think
