The Bourne Identity Page #3
GIANCARLO:
(offering the
bottle--)
You drink rum?
THE MAN:
I don't know.
EXT. FISHING BOAT DECK -- NIGHT
THE MAN stands at the rail, staring out to sea. So lost.
He turns to head inside -- there, a surfcasting rod propped
against a locker.
THE MAN picks up the rod -- flips the bail -- traps the
line -- now he's casting far out into the darkness. And for
the first time, he smiles.
INT. FISHING BOAT GALLEY -- NIGHT
A ratty old espresso machine. THE MAN standing there,
staring at the thing like it's a test. Then his hands begin
to move -- trying to pack a grind -- trying to fit it in --
turning on the steam and --
THE MAN alone doing chin-ups on the deck rail. He's still
bandaged and the wounds must hurt like hell, but he's
pushing himself. Using the pain -- bathing in it -- maybe
even hoping that it will hold some answer for him.
INT. FISHING BOAT GALLEY -- NIGHT
A chess board. Wooden pieces jumbled in a box. THE MAN
hesitates -- takes a black knight from the box -- lingers
for a moment -- and then places it on the board. He's off
and running. He knows this. Placing pieces faster and
faster -- still setting it up, as we --
INT. FISHING BOAT HEAD -- NIGHT
One of the ugliest bathrooms on the planet. THE MAN
standing before a pitted, tarnished, cataract of a mirror.
Staring at himself.
And then he speaks.
THE MAN:
(in perfect French)
(I don't know who I am. Do you
know who I am? Do have any idea
who I am?)
And then he stops. Blinks. Wipes away the perspiration
just beading on his forehead.
THE MAN:
(in perfect Dutch)
(Tell me who I am. If you know who
I am, please stop f***ing around
and tell me.)
No answer. Just that face. His face. Who am I?
And what else is inside there?
SAILORS hauling in the nets. THE MAN -- still bandaged, but
healing -- working beside them. Earning his keep. Getting
healthy.
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"The Bourne Identity" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 18 Apr. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_bourne_identity_250>.
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