Christine

Synopsis: In 1957, in Detroit, a red Plymouth Fury is built and is the cause of two accidents, one of them fatal, still in the assembly line. Twenty-one years later, the outcast and bullied nerd Arnold "Arnie" Cunningham is getting a ride with his best and only friend Dennis Guilder and he sees the wrecked car for sale in a garden. Arnie immediately falls in love with the car. The car was given the name Christine by it's first owner. He brings the car to a repair shop of the despicable Will Darnell and works hard to restore the classic car. While he works in the restoration, he changes his personality to a cocky teenager and he dates the most beautiful girl in the high-school, Leigh Cabot. Soon Arnie becomes selfish and jealous of the supernatural Christine that kills everyone that is a threat to them.
Genre: Horror
Director(s): John Carpenter
Production: Sony Pictures Home Entertainment
  2 nominations.
 
IMDB:
6.7
Metacritic:
57
Rotten Tomatoes:
69%
R
Year:
1983
110 min
3,827 Views


Now, on the day I was born

The nurses all gathered round

And they gazed in wild wonder

At the joy they had found

The head nurse spoke up

Said leave this one alone

She could tell right away

That I was bad to the bone

Bad to the bone

B- B-B-B-B-Bad

Bad to the bone

I broke 1,000 hearts

Before I met you

lll break 1,000 more, baby

Before I am through

I want to be yours, pretty baby

Yours, and yours alone

lm here to tell you, honey

That lm bad to the bone

Bad to the bone

B- B-B-B-B-Bad

Bad to the bone

lm a-gonna tell you

how its gonna be

You gonna give

your love to me

My love is bigger

than the Cadillac

After I show you lll be back

Your love for me

has got to be real

Holy sh*t!

Come on, Arnie.

Hes coming.

Hes changing his shirt.

Thats noise pollution,

what youre doing.

You might as well be dumping

toxic waste on our lawn.

Hey, Dennis.

Lll be right there.

Just leave it.

Its okay.

Go on. Its okay.

Arnie, your lunch!

Try and keep it cold.

Theres yogurt in there.

Right.

Slow down!

Are you guys having a war?

Shes pissed off

cause lm taking shop. My dad too.

It wont embarrass them when you

fix their stupid Volvo for free.

- What?

- Last night, were playing Scrabble.

Its neck-and-neck between me and her.

We blew my dad away early.

So, at the end, I had this choice

of ratio for five lousy points...

- or...

- Or what, Arnie?

tellatio for 24 points

and the game.

- Whatd she do?

- She won by seven points...

because obscenitys not allowed

in Scrabble.

- And its in the dictionary!

- You jerk, Arnie. Jesus.

You know, Arnie,

I was thinking...

Uh-oh.

No, seriously.

Now that were gonna be seniors,

I figure its about time...

that we got you laid.

- You know, like this year, huh?

- You need a girl to get laid.

- What about Gail Justin?

- I dont like her moustache.

F*** you! What do you care?

If you get a little hair in your mouth?

Okay. How about Sally Hayes?

Shes cute.

- Shes a sophomore!

- So what? Shes a walking sperm bank.

I know. Come on.

I dont have the minimum deposit

to open an account.

Are you kidding? You carry

your life savings between your legs.

Come on, Arnie.

I think maybe

lll just beat off.

Are you playing

football this year or what?

Somebodys got to pick it up

when you fumble.

- Hey, Terry.

- Hows your gimpy knee?

Its better.

Coach wants me to practice.

Yeah? Its about time. Lve been eatin

dirt with your name on it for weeks.

Hi, Dennis.

Oh, hey, Roseanne.

How you doing?

Lm okay. They gonna

let you play football?

Yeah.

Doc says lm as good as new.

Then I guess

lll be seeing you out there.

I hope so.

Well, T.T.F.N.

Yeah. Ta-ta for now.

I wouldnt put that in my mouth.

- You dont know where its been.

- Get outta here.

But we know where it hasnt been.

With you.

- Having trouble with your locker?

- No.

- Did you see the new girl?

- I just got here!

- Lm in love, and lm fussy.

- I never noticed you were fussy.

Drop dead, Cunningham.

- Whats her name?

- I dont know. Shes in the office.

She looks smart,

but shes got a sluts body.

Oh, sh*t. Here she comes.

I think youll like it here, Leigh.

Give me something

for my lap.

We have a good band. Went to the Rose

Parade. Not a bad way to meet boys.

I would like to get involved

with the yearbook.

We have a terrific yearbook staff.

Won a prize last year.

So, what about admitting

Red China into the U. N.?

- I think we already did that.

- Yeah, but...

do you think it was a good idea?

She smiled at me.

I want to have deep,

meaningful sex with her.

- Go get her, Bemis.

- Think I should?

Youve got nothing

to lose but your virginity.

Dennis, can you give me a hand?

- I cant...

- Yeah.

- He doesnt have a chance.

- I dont think so either.

Shes much too classy for him.

- There you go.

- What did you do?

Lucky. See you at lunch.

Hey, Charley.

Have you seen Arnie?

- Yeah. Hes still in the shop.

- Whats the matter?

Buddy Repperton has his lunch.

- Buddy Repperton.

- Hi, Dennis...

Come on, pizza face.

You want it?

Come get it!

If its yours,

why isnt your name on here anywhere?

Arnie Cuntingham.

Why doesnt it say Cuntingham?

Just take it, and lets go eat.

Thats all you got to do.

Come on.

Thats funny, Buddy,

real funny.

Go get Mr. Casey.

Come on.

You want to go for it?

Put the knife down.

- Put down the knife.

- You want to make me?

Youve got a knife and he doesnt.

That makes you a chicken sh*t.

- Yeah. Thats chicken sh*t.

- Yeah?

- Put it down.

- Yeah, put down the knife.

Put down the knife, okay?

Get him, man!

How do you like that, dickface?

All right, break it up!

Right now.

You kids take a walk.

Get lost.

Not you, Moochie.

- I aint been doing nothing.

- You all right, Dennis?

Yeah, lm okay.

Real cute.

Three on one.

They started it.

- Thats not true.

- Shut up, cuntface!

Shut your mouth!

I dont have to listen

to garbage like that, Buddy!

What were you saying?

Reppertons got a knife.

You f***ing liar!

Its a switchblade.

Thats bullshit, Mr. Casey.

Hes lying. I swear to God.

Did Repperton here

pull a knife on you?

Yeah.

Empty your pockets, Buddy.

F*** I will.

You cant make me.

If you mean I dont have the authority,

youre wrong.

Try it, you bald f***, and lll

knock you through the wall! F***!

You two boys go up to the office.

Stay there.

Dont go anywhere.

Youve got enough trouble.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes

Bill Phillips

All Bill Phillips scripts | Bill Phillips Scripts

0 fans

Submitted on August 05, 2018

Discuss this script with the community:

0 Comments

    Translation

    Translate and read this script in other languages:

    Select another language:

    • - Select -
    • 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
    • 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
    • Español (Spanish)
    • Esperanto (Esperanto)
    • 日本語 (Japanese)
    • Português (Portuguese)
    • Deutsch (German)
    • العربية (Arabic)
    • Français (French)
    • Русский (Russian)
    • ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
    • 한국어 (Korean)
    • עברית (Hebrew)
    • Gaeilge (Irish)
    • Українська (Ukrainian)
    • اردو (Urdu)
    • Magyar (Hungarian)
    • मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
    • Indonesia (Indonesian)
    • Italiano (Italian)
    • தமிழ் (Tamil)
    • Türkçe (Turkish)
    • తెలుగు (Telugu)
    • ภาษาไทย (Thai)
    • Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
    • Čeština (Czech)
    • Polski (Polish)
    • Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
    • Românește (Romanian)
    • Nederlands (Dutch)
    • Ελληνικά (Greek)
    • Latinum (Latin)
    • Svenska (Swedish)
    • Dansk (Danish)
    • Suomi (Finnish)
    • فارسی (Persian)
    • ייִדיש (Yiddish)
    • հայերեն (Armenian)
    • Norsk (Norwegian)
    • English (English)

    Citation

    Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:

    Style:MLAChicagoAPA

    "Christine" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 24 Apr. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/christine_5511>.

    We need you!

    Help us build the largest writers community and scripts collection on the web!

    Browse Scripts.com

    The Studio:

    ScreenWriting Tool

    Write your screenplay and focus on the story with many helpful features.