Apt Pupil
FADE IN:
Through the window of a moving vehicle, we see a series of
small, middle-class houses. This could be any suburban street
in America.
A boy is seated near the back of a moving bus. This is TODD
BOWDEN, 15, as All-American as they come. He stares out at the
other passengers indifferently. Then something catches his eye.
EXT. RESIDENTIAL STREET - SANTO DONATO - DAY
TITLE:
SANTO DONATO, CA FEBRUARY 1984Todd pedals his bike down a quiet street and pulls up to an
unassuming bungalow set far back on its lot. This is the kind
of house one would hardly notice driving through the peaceful
suburban community of Santo Donato. Todd gets off his bike and
heads up the front steps. On the way, he bends down to pick up
the L.A. Times.
Two signs, in laminated plastic, are secured neatly above the
door bell. The first reads: "ARTHUR DENKER". The second reads:
"NO SOLICITORS, NO PEDDLERS, NO SALESMEN".
Todd RINGS the bell. Nothing. He looks at his watch. It is
twelve past ten. He RINGS again, this time longer. Still
nothing. Finally, Todd leans on the tiny button, staring at his
watch as he does so. After more than a minute of SOLID RINGING,
DUSSANDER (O.S.)
All right. All right. I'm coming. Let it
go!
Todd lets go as a chain behind the heavy door starts to rattle.
Then it opens. An old man stands behind the screen. He is KURT
DUSSANDER, a.k.a. Arthur Denker. Mid-seventies. Standing there
in his bathrobe and slippers, a cigarette smashed in his mouth,
he looks like a cross between Boris Karloff and Albert Einstein.
Dussander stares at Todd, who tries to speak, but suddenly
cannot.
DUSSANDER:
(continuing)
A boy. I don't need anything, boy. Can't
you read? I thought all American boys could
read. Don't be a nuisance, now. Good day.
The door begins to close. Todd waits till the last moment
before speaking.
TODD:
Don't forget your paper, Mr. Dussander.
The door stops. Dussander opens it slowly. He unlatches the
screen and slips his fingers around the paper. Todd does not
let go.
DUSSANDER:
Give me my newspaper.
TODD:
Sure thing, Mr. Dussander.
Dussander snatches the paper away and closes the screen door.
Quickly, almost imperceptibly, the old man's eyes survey the
area:
across the street, up and down the sidewalk, the boy'sbicycle.
DUSSANDER:
My name is Denker. See?
(pointing)
Denker. Perhaps you cannot read after all.
What a pity. Good day.
As the front door closes, Todd speaks rapidly into the narrowing gap.
TODD:
Bergen-Belsen, January '43 to June '43.
Auschwitz, June '43 to June '44. Then you
went to Patin.
The door stops, still partly open.
TODD (CONT'D)
After the war, you escaped to Buenos Aires.
From 1950 to '52 you were in Cuba, and
then... From 1952 to '58... I don't know. No
one does. But in 1965, you popped up in West
Berlin, where they almost got you.
The door opens wider.
DUSSANDER:
Listen, boy. I don't know what is the matter
with you. But I don't have time for this
game. Now, get out of here before I call the
police.
TODD:
Call them if you want.
DUSSANDER:
Fine.
TODD:
It's okay by me Herr Kommandant. I'm sure
the police would love to meet the "Blood-
fiend of Patin."
In a flash the front door is open, so is the screen. Dussander
is through the doorway and descending upon Todd with the rolled
umbrella raised to strike him. Todd stumbles back against the
porch rail.
DUSSANDER:
You get away from this house, God damn you!
I'll beat you all the way home.
But Todd regains his composure quickly. He brushes himself off
and levels his eyes at the old man who now hardly seems the
threat he was a few seconds ago.
TODD:
After 1965, no one saw you again... Until I
did. Three weeks ago on the downtown bus. If
you want to call the cops, go right ahead.
I'II wait on the steps.
DUSSANDER:
You'll do no such thing.
TODD:
I won't? Listen, old man, if I want to start
screaming right here, I will. If I want to
ride down to the police station and bring the
cops back myself, then I will. I will do
what ever I want. Do you understand?
(pause)
But if you like, I could come in for a
minute. We could talk.
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"Apt Pupil" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/apt_pupil_206>.
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