Crash Page #2

As the car moves off, James puts his free hand between Catherine's

thighs.

INT. FILM STUDIO - JAMES'S OFFICE - NIGHT

James studies storyboards for an automotive battery commercial

which are spread out over a broad architects' table. He makes

notes on each panel of the boards with a sharp pencil.

As we move around him, we reveal his secretary Renata sitting and

watching him intently from the vantage point of her corner chair,

her hand poised to write down anything he might say in a small,

leather-bound notebook.

From her point of view, we watch James from behind as he works.

Every movement he makes - bending over to correct a panel,

manipulating the pencil, touching the sharp point of the pencil to

his lip, straightening up again - provokes a different tiny

response from Renata, so attuned to him is she.

But he says nothing to her, and she remains poised and vigilant.

EXT. FILM STUDIO PARKING LOT - NIGHT

James settles into his car - a boring American four-door sedan -

running through his control-panel routine like a pilot before

driving off. This time his routine ends with the switching on of

the windshield wipers because it has begun to rain heavily.

EXT. RAINSWEPT ROAD - NIGHT

Driving home from the studio, James hits a deep puddle at 60 miles

an hour and suddenly finds himself heading into the oncoming lane.

The car hits the central reservation with a thump and the offside

tire explodes and spins off its rim.

INT. JAMES'S CAR - NIGHT

In the car, James fights desperately for control.

EXT. RAIN-SWEPT ROAD - NIGHT

The car hurtles across the reservation and, bouncing and slamming

down on its suspension, heads up the high-speed exit ramp. Three

sedans are barreling down the ramp right towards James.

INT. JAMES'S CAR - NIGHT

James pumps the brakes and saws away inexpertly at the wheel. He

manages to avoid the first two cars, but the third he strikes

head-on.

At the moment of impact, the man in the passenger seat of the

other car is propelled like a Ha stress from the barrel of a

circus cannon through his own windshield and then partially

through the windshield of James's car.

The propelled man's blood spatters James's face and chest, his

body coming to rest half inside James's car, its head dangling

down into the dark recess of the passenger footwell.

James's chest hits the steering wheel, his knees crush into the

instrument panel, his forehead hits the upper windshield frame. As

these things happen, James is vaguely conscious of the same things

happening to the woman driving the other car, as though she is a

bizarre mirror image.

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