The Manchurian Candidate Page #7

8/18/03 15.

Raymond Shaw’s suit is expensive and crisp, his hair

perfect. He’s playing solitaire. And winning.

RAYMOND:

(murmurs)

... I am not a professional politician.

I am not a professional politician ...

TV43 JORDAN (T.V.) TV43

-- because once we start overturning our

constitutional protections, our enemies

have won.

RAYMOND:

... I am ... a professional politician.

Not.

KNOCKING on his door -- it opens, and Secret Service AGENT

EVAN ANDERSON removes his key while SEN. ELEANOR SHAW,

pretty and ageless, sweeps in -- closing the door on her

aide (GILLESPIE) --

ELLIE:

Raymond? Darling, what were you going to

do, make me stand out there like room

service?

-- soft curves conceal razor claws and titanium backbone --

she kisses her son on the lips, straightens his collar, his

tie, lets her hands smooth his shirt to his chest for a

little too long, and never stops talking:

ELLIE:

I asked downstairs and Miss Freeman, your

’wrangler’ -- helpful Ms. Freeman -- said

you were up here practicing your speech.

Honestly, I don’t understand why you

insist upon isolating yourself, people

adore you, Raymond, they crave your

company and yet here you are, holed up,

as if you were some kind of emotionally

challenged individual like your father

instead of Raymond Prentiss Shaw, a

handsome, intelligent, people-loving war

hero with a great deal to offer to his

party and his country.

RAYMOND:

No.

ELLIE:

No what? Baby, I haven’t even asked you

a question. Your hair is too flat. And

that tie. The tie is wrong.

8/18/03 16.

RAYMOND:

No to the question you’re going to ask.

No to all the questions you pretend to

want to ask --

ELLIE:

(the tie)

Something a little less busy.

RAYMOND:

-- and no you may not engage in your

usual back-door political thuggery to

shovel me onto the presidential ticket.

ELLIE:

Oh. You’re not interested? I thought

you were. Did I miss my cue?

RAYMOND:

Of course I’m interested -- I wouldn’t be

here if I wasn’t -- but not if it means

attacking the reputation of a statesman

like Thomas Jordan, which I’m sure was

your plan. Let democracy run its course,

mother. Let the people decide.

Now Ellie stares at him, mouth agape.

RAYMOND:

What.

ELLIE:

I’m sorry, for a second there I thought

it was your father speaking -- that

dreaded Shaw blood rising -- and the

stink of defeat made me nauseous.

RAYMOND:

Mother --

ELLIE:

And excuse me, when have I ever attacked

the honorable Mr. Jordan, despite the

shameful way his daughter misled you that

summer at the shore.

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