MEET JOHN DOE screenplay by Robert Riskin based on a story by Richard Connell and Robert Presnell Shooting Draft, 1941 Property of Warner Brothers FADE IN: EXT. BULLETIN OFFICE - SIDEWALK CLOSE-UP: Of a time-worn plaque against the side of a building. It reads: THE BULLETIN "A free press for a free people." While we read this, a pair of hands come in holding pneumatic chisel which immediately attacks the sign. As the lettering is being obliterated, DISSOLVE TO: CLOSE-UP: A new plaque on which the lettering has been changed to: THE NEW BULLETIN "A streamlined newspaper for a streamlined era." CUT TO: INT. BULLETIN OUTER OFFICE. MED. SHOT: At a door at which a sign-painter works. He is painting HENRY CONNELL's name on the door. It opens and a flip office boy emerges. The painter has to wait until the door closes in order to resume his work. FULL SHOT: Of the outer office. The activity of the office seems to suddenly cease, as all eyes are centered on the office boy. MED. SHOT—PANNING: With the office boy—who has a small sheet of paper in his hand. He walks jauntily to a desk, refers to his paper, points his finger to a woman, emits a short whistle through his teeth, runs a finger across his throat and jerks his thumb toward managing editor's office. The woman stares starkly at him while her immediate neighbors look on with sympathy. The office boy now goes through the same procedure with several other people. All watch him, terror written in their eyes. MED. SHOT: Toward CONNELL's office door where painter works. It opens and three people emerge. Two men and a girl. The girl is young and pretty. All three look dourful. The painter again has to wait for the door to shut before resuming his work. The two men exit. The girl suddenly stops. CLOSE SHOT: Of the girl. Her name is ANN MITCHELL. She stands, thinking, and then suddenly, impulsively, wheels around. CAMERA PANS with her as she returns to CONNELL's office door, flings it open and disappears. The painter remains poised with his brush, waiting for the door to swing back. There is a slight flash of resentment in his eyes. INT. CONNELL'S OFFICE FULL SHOT: CONNELL is behind his desk on which is a tray of sandwiches and a glass of milk, half gone. Near him sits POP DWYER, another veteran newspaperman. ANN crosses to CONNELL's desk. CONNELL (on phone) Yeh, D. B. Oh, just cleaning out the dead-wood. Okay. ANN (supplicatingly) Look, Mr. Connell . . . I just can't afford to be without work right now, not even for a day. I've got a mother and two kid sisters to . . . Secretary enters. (Her name is Mattie.) SECRETARY More good luck telegrams. ANN Well, you know how it is, I, I've just got to keep working. See? CONNELL Sorry, sister. I was sent down here to clean house. I told yuh I can't use your column any more. It's lavender and old lace! (flicks dictograph button) MATTIE (over dictograph) Yeah? CONNELL Send those other people in. MATTIE (over dictograph) Okay. ANN I'll tell you what I'll do. I get thirty dollars a week. I'll take twenty-five, twenty if necessary. I'll do anything you say. CONNELL It isn't the money. We're after circulation. What we need is fireworks. People who can hit with sledge hammers—start arguments. ANN Oh, I can do that. I know this town inside out. Oh, give me a chance, please. She can get no further, for several people enter. They are cowed and frightened. ANN hesitates a moment, then, there being nothing for her to do, she starts to exit. She is stopped by CONNELL's voice. CONNELL All right, come in, come in! Come in! (to Ann) Cashier's got your check. (back to others) Who are these people? Gibbs, Frowley, Cunningham, Jiles— (to Ann at door) Hey, you, sister! Ann turns. CONNELL Don't forget to get out your last column before you pick up your check! ANN's eyes flash angrily as she exits. INT. OUTER OFFICE. MED. SHOT: ANN storms out. The painter again has to wait for the door to swing back to him. INT. ANN'S OFFICE. FULL SHOT: ANN enters her office and paces around, furious. A man in alpaca sleeve-bands enters. His name is JOE. JOE You're a couple o' sticks shy in your column, Ann. ANN (ignores him, muttering . . .) A big, rich slob like D. B. Norton buys a paper—and forty heads are chopped off! JOE Did you get it, too? ANN Yeah. You, too? Oh, Joe . . . oh, I'm sorry darling . . . why don't we tear the building down! JOE Before you do, Ann, perhaps you'd better finish this column. ANN Yeah. Lavender and old lace! Suddenly she stops pacing. Her eyes widen as a fiendish idea strikes her. ANN Wait, Joe—wait! She flops down in front of her typewriter. ANN (muttering) Wants fireworks, huh? Okay! She begins to pound furiously, her jaw set. CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. Eyes flashing as she types. CLOSE-UP: Of JOE, watching her. The wild look in her eye and the unnatural speed of her typing causes him to stare dumbly at her. MED. SHOT: ANN bangs away madly. Finally she finishes. She whips the sheet out of the typewriter, hands it to JOE. ANN Here. As JOE takes it, ANN begins to empty the drawers of her desk. CLOSE-UP: Of JOE reading what ANN has written. JOE (reading) "Below is a letter which reached my desk this morning. It's a commentary on what we laughingly call the civilized world. 'Dear Miss Mitchell: Four years ago I was fired out of my job. Since then I haven't been able to get another one. At first I was sore at the state administration because it's on account of the slimy politics here we have all this unemployment. But in looking around, it seems the whole world's going to pot, so in protest I'm going to commit suicide by jumping off the City Hall roof!' Signed, A disgusted American citizen, John Doe.'" JOE pauses to absorb this. JOE (continues reading) "Editor's note . . . If you ask this column, the wrong people are jumping off roofs." JOE glances up toward ANN, in mild protest. JOE Hey, Ann, this is the old fakeroo, isn't it? FULL SHOT: ANN has just about accumulated all her things. JOE stares at her, knowing it's a fake. ANN Never mind that, Joe. Go ahead. JOE shrugs, shakes his head, and exits. ANN stuffs her things under her arm and also goes. INT. OUTER OFFICE MED. SHOT: Voices ad lib—"Awfully sorry you're not going." "Good-bye." (Laughing) ANN comes out. Suddenly, she stops, gets another idea, picks up a book from a desk, and reaches back to heave it. MED. SHOT: At CONNELL's office door. The sign-painter has just finished CONNELL's name, and as he leans back, pleased, wiping his brushes, the book flies in. The painter lifts his head slowly, his wrath too great to find utterance. DISSOLVE TO: INT. GOVERNOR JACKSON'S OFFICE CLOSE-UP: Of two of GOVERNOR'S ASSOCIATES. MAN (reading newspaper) " . . . and it's because of the slimy politics that we have all this unemployment here." (agitated) There it is! That's D. B. Norton's opening attack on the Governor! 2ND MAN Why Jim, it's just a letter sent in to a column. JIM No, no. I can smell it. That's Norton! While he speaks, the GOVERNOR has entered. GOVERNOR Good morning, gentlemen. You're rather early. MEN 'Morning. 'Morning, Governor. GOVERNOR You're here rather early. JIM (pushes paper over to him) Did you happen to see this in the New Bulletin, Governor? He emphasizes the word "new" cynically. GOVERNOR Yes. I had it served with my breakfast this morning. 2ND MAN Jim thinks it's D. B. Norton at work. JIM Of course it is! GOVERNOR Oh, come, Jim. That little item? D. B. Norton does things in a much bigger way . . . JIM This is his opening attack on you, Governor! Take my word for it! What did he buy a paper for? Why did he hire a high-pressure editor like Connell for? He's in the oil business! I tell you, Governor, he's after your scalp! GOVERNOR All right, Jim. Don't burst a blood vessel, I'll attend to it. (flips button on dictograph) Get me Spencer of the Daily Chronicle , please. DISSOLVE TO: INT. SPENCER'S OFFICE MED. SHOT: SPENCER is on the telephone SPENCER Yes. Yes. I saw it, Governor . . . and if you ask me that's a phoney letter. Why, that gag has got whiskers on it. Huh? Okay, I'll get the Mayor and maybe the Chamber of Commerce to go after them. (into dictagraph) Get Mayor Lovett on the phone! INT. MAYOR'S OFFICE MED. SHOT: Of MAYOR's secretary. SECRETARY (picking up phone) Hello? Sorry, the Mayor's busy on the other phone. CAMERA PANS over to the MAYOR who is fatuous and excitable. MAYOR (into telephone) Yes, I know, Mrs. Brewster. It's a terrible reflection on our city. I've had a dozen calls already. SECRETARY enters scene. SECRETARY Spencer of the Chronicle . MAYOR Hold him. (into phone) Yes, Mrs. Brewster, I'm listening. The SECRETARY lays down the receiver. DISSOLVE TO: INT. CORNER OF A BEDROOM CLOSE SHOT: Of MRS. BREWSTER—stout and loud. She is propped up in bed—a breakfast tray on her lap—the newspaper by her side. MRS. BREWSTER Insist that this John Doe man be found and given a job at once. If something isn't done. I'll call out the whole Auxiliary — yes, and the Junior Auxiliary, too. We'll hold a meeting and see— CUT TO: INT. MAYOR'S OFFICE MED. SHOT: Of MAYOR. He lays the receiver down and we continue to hear MRS. BREWSTER's voice. MAYOR picks up SPENCER's phone. MAYOR Yes, Spencer. Who? The Governor? Well, what about me? it's my building he's jumping off of! And I'm up for re-election, too! SECRETARY Shh! MAYOR (to Secretary) What are you doing? Get Connell at the Bulletin ! (to Spencer) Why, he's liable to go right past my window, (suddenly—to Sec'y—excitably) What was that?! SECRETARY What? MAYOR Out the window! Something just flew by! SECRETARY I didn't see anything. MAYOR (semi-hysterical) Well, don't stand there, you idiot. Go and look. Open the window. Oh, why did he have to pick on my building? The SECRETARY, telephone in hand, peers out window. MAYOR Is there a crowd in the street? SECRETARY No, sir. MAYOR Then he may be caught on a ledge! Look again! SECRETARY I think it must have been a sea- gull. MAYOR A sea-gull? What's a sea-gull doing around the city hall? That's a bad omen, isn't it? (picks up Mrs. Brewster's phone) SECRETARY Oh, n-no, sir. The sea-gull is a lovely bird. MAYOR (into telephone) I-it's all right, Mrs. Brewster. It was just a sea-gull. (catches himself) Er. nothing's happened yet! No, I'm watching. Don't worry. Ju-just leave it all to me! The SECRETARY holds out another phone. The MAYOR drops MRS. BREWSTER's phone again, and her voice is still heard. MAYOR (into Spencer's phone) Spencer, I'll call you back. Secretary has gotten CONNELL on the phone—hands phone to MAYOR. MAYOR Hello! Connell! This is— (TO SECRETARY) What are you doing? (back to phone) This is the Mayor. INT. CONNELL'S OFFICE FULL SHOT: CONNELL is on the phone. POP DWYER is draped in a chair nearby. CONNELL Yes, Mayor Lovett! How many times are you gonna call me? I've got everybody and his brother and sister out looking for him. Did you see the box I'm running? He picks up the front page of the Bulletin; we see a four column box on the front page. CONNELL (reading) "An appeal to John Doe. 'Think it over, John. Life can be beautiful,' says Mayor. 'If you need a job, apply to the editor of this paper . . .'" " and so forth and so forth . . . Okay, Mayor. I'll let you know as soon as I have something! What? . . . Well, pull down the blinds! (he hangs up) The door opens and a man enters. His name is BEANY. Walks fast, talks fast and accomplishes nothing. Outside, we see the painter trying once more to get his sign painted. He reaches in—and pulls the door to. BEANY I went up to Miss Mitchell's house, boss. Boy, she's in a bad way. CONNELL Where is she? BEANY Hey, do you know something? She supports a mother and two kids. What do you know about that? CONNELL (controlling his patience) Did you find her? BEANY No. Her mother's awful worried about her. When she left the house she said she was going on a roaring drunk. Er, the girl, I mean! CONNELL (barking) Go out and find her! BEANY Sure. Hey, but the biggest thing I didn't tell you . . . CONNELL picks up telephone. CONNELL Hello! . . . Yeh? BEANY Her old man was Doc Mitchell. You know, the doc that saved my mother's life and wouldn't take any money for it? You remember that? Okay, boss, I'll go and look for her. BEANY exits, knocking over an ash-stand. CONNELL (into phone) Holy smokes, Commissioner. You've had twenty-four hours! Okay, Hawkshaw, grab a pencil. Here it is again. She's about five foot five, brown eyes, light chestnut hair and as fine a pair of legs as . . . The door opens, ANN stands there—CONNELL sees her. CONNELL (into phone—staring at Ann) . . . ever walked into this office. Med. Shot: At door. The sign painter is slowly beginning to lose patience. He again reaches in—pulls the door shut—glaring at ANN. CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. ANN (innocently) Did you want to see me? WIDER SHOT: CONNELL, without moving, stares at her. CONNELL (quietly—sizzling) No. I've had the whole army and navy searching for you because that's a game we play here every day. ANN I remember, distinctly, being fired. CONNELL That's right. But you have a piece of property that still belongs to this newspaper. And I'd like to have it! ANN What's that? CONNELL The letter. ANN What letter? CONNELL The letter from John Doe. ANN Oh! CONNELL The whole town's in an uproar. We've got to find him. The letter's our only clue. ANN (simply) There is no letter. CONNELL We'll get a handwriting expert to— (suddenly realizes what she has said) What! ANN There is no letter. He stares at her for a moment, flabbergasted—exchanges a look with POP—crosses to the back door—shuts it—then comes back to face her. CLOSE SHOT: - ANN and CONNELL. CONNELL Say that again. ANN There is no letter. I made it up. CONNELL looks at her a long moment and then up at POP. CONNELL (repeating dully) You made it up. ANN Uh-huh. You said you wanted fireworks. WIDER SHOT: As he recovers from the shock, and then wheels on ANN again. CONNELL Don't you know there are nine jobs waiting for this guy? Twenty-two families want to board him free? Five women want to marry him, and the Mayor's practically ready to adopt him? And you . . . As CONNELL glares at her the door springs open and BEANY enters. BEANY just called the morgue, boss. They say there's a girl there— CONNELL Shut up! CLOSE-UP: Of BEANY. He is startled by this—and then stares popeyed as he sees ANN. BEANY Ann! Say, why didn't yuh— CONNELL Beany! Med. Shot: At the door. The painter is beginning to grind his teeth. He pulls the door shut, viciously. WIDER SHOT: To include all. POP Only one thing to do, Hank. Drop the whole business quickly. CONNELL How? POP Run a story. Say John Doe was in here, and is sorry he wrote the letter and— CONNELL (jumps in quickly) That's right. You got it! Sure! He came in here and I made him change his mind. "Bulletin editor saves John Doe's life." Why, it's perfect. I'll have Ned write it up. (into dictograph) Oh, Ned! NED'S VOICE Yeah? CONNELL got a story I want yuh to— ANN Wait a minute! She rushes over—snaps the dictograph off. MED. SHOT: Of ANN, leaning on CONNELL's desk. ANN Listen, you great big wonderful genius of a newspaperman! You came down here to shoot some life into this dying paper, didn't you? CONNELL blinks under the attack. POP and BEANY move into the scene. ANN Well, the whole town's curious about John Doe and, boom, just like that you're going to bury him. There's enough circulation in that man to start a shortage in the ink market! CONNELL (thoroughly bewildered) In what man! ANN John Doe. CONNELL What John Doe? ANN Our John Doe! The one I made up! Look, genius— Now, look. Suppose there was a John Doe—and he walked into this office. What would you do? Find him a job and forget about the whole business, I suppose! Not me! I'd have made a deal with him! CONNELL A deal? ANN Sure! When you get hold of a stunt that sells papers you don't drop it like a hot potato. Why, this is good for at least a couple of months. You know what I'd do? Between now and let's say, Christmas, when he's gonna jump, I'd run a daily yarn starting with his boyhood, his schooling, his first job! A wide-eyed youngster facing a chaotic world. The problem of the average man, of all the John Does in the world. TWO SHOT: ANN and CONNELL. Despite himself, he's interested in her recital. ANN Now, then comes the drama. He meets discouragement. He finds the world has feet of clay. His ideals crumble. So what does he do? He decides to commit suicide in protest against the state of civilization. He thinks of the river! But no, no, he has a better idea. The City Hall. Why? Because he wants to attract attention. He wants to get a few things off his chest, and that's the only way he can get himself heard. CONNELL So? FULL SHOT: Of the whole group. BEANY grins in admiration. CONNELL has leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued on ANN. ANN So! So he writes me a letter and I dig him up. He pours out his soul to me, and from now on we quote: "I protest, by John Doe." He protests against all the evils in the world; the greed, the lust, the hate, the fear, all of man's inhumanity to man. Arguments will start. Should he commit suicide or should he not! People will write in pleading with him. But no! No, sir! John Doe will remain adamant! On Christmas Eve, hot or cold, he goes! See? She finishes, takes a deep breath—awed, and at the same time proud of her accomplishment. CLOSE SHOT: Of CONNELL. He just stares at ANN. CONNELL (after a pause—quietly) Very pretty. Very pretty, indeed, Miss Mitchell. But would you mind telling me who goes on Christmas Eve? ANN John Doe. CONNELL (loses control—screams) What John Doe? ANN (screams right back) The one we hire for the job, you lunkhead! There is silence for a moment. CONNELL (breaking silence—speaks with a controlled patience) Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Lemme get this through this lame brain of mine. Are you suggesting we go out and hire someone to say he's gonna commit suicide on Christmas Eve? Is that it? ANN (nodding) Well, you're catching on. CONNELL Who, for instance? ANN Anybody! Er, er—Beany'll do! CLOSE-UP: BEANY. He is petrified. BEANY Why sure—Who? Me? Jump off a—Oh, no! Any time but Christmas. I'm superstitious. FULL SHOT: BEANY backs away from them—and when he gets to the door—makes a dash for it. INT. OUTER OFFICE MED. SHOT: At door. As BEANY comes dashing out, he almost upsets the painter from the stool. When the door is shut, the name of "Connell" which he has been printing is all smudged over. The painter stares at it, helplessly for a second, and then—unable to stand it any more, rises, throws his brush violently to the floor—after completely smearing the sign himself. FULL SHOT: CONNELL (sighing) Miss Mitchell, do me a favor, will you? Go on out and get married and have a lot o' babies—but stay out o' newspaper business! POP Better get that story in, Hank, it's getting late. ANN (to CONNELL) You're supposed to be a smart guy! If it was raining hundred dollar bills, you'd be out looking for a dime you lost some place. CONNELL Holy smokes! Wasting my time listening to this mad woman. He crosses to his desk just as NED enters from the back door. NED Look, Chief! Look what the Chronicle is running on John Doe. They say it's a fake! CONNELL turns sharply. CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She was just about giving up, when she hears this—and her eyes brighten alertly. MED. SHOT: At CONNELL's desk. CONNELL—reading the paper—becomes incensed. CONNELL Why, the no-good—low-down— (reading) "John Doe story amateur journalism. It's palpably phoney. It's a wonder anyone is taking it seriously." What do yuh think of those guys! ANN has walked into scene while CONNELL is reading. ANN That's fine! That's fine! Now fall right into their laps. Go ahead. Say John Doe walked in and called the whole thing off. You know what that's going to sound like on top of this! CONNELL (doesn't like Ned hearing all this) That's all, Ned. Thank you. NED All right. NED, puzzled, exits. CONNELL comes away from his desk and walks around. CONNELL (fighting spirit) "Amateur journalism", huh? Why, the bunch of sophomores! I can teach them more about— But he is interrupted by the front door being flung open. On the threshold stands BEANY. BEANY Hey, boss. Get a load of this. CONNELL (joins him in the doorway) What? BEANY Look! MED. SHOT: - OVER THEIR SHOULDERS. In the outer office are a large group of derelict-looking men. Some standing—some sitting—some leaning. It looks like the lobby of a flophouse had been transplanted. CLOSE SHOT: Beany and Connell. CONNELL What do they want? BEANY They all say they wrote the John Doe letter. MED. SHOT: POP and ANN have walked over and also peer out. CONNELL (amused, turns) Oh, they all wrote the letter? ANN pushes CONNELL aside—talks to BEANY. ANN Tell them all to wait. She shuts the door and turns to CONNELL. ANN Look, Mr. Connell—one of those men is your John Doe. They're desperate and will do anything for a cup of coffee. Pick one out and you can make the Chronicle eat their words. CLOSE-UP: Of CONNELL. A broad smile slowly spreads over his face. CONNELL I'm beginning to like this. MED. SHOT: POP looks worried. POP If you ask me, Hank, you're playing around with dynamite. CONNELL No, no, no, the gal's right. We can't let the Chronicle get the laugh on us! We've got to produce a John Doe now. (muttering) Amateur journalism, huh! (starts for door) I'll show those guys. ANN Sure—and there's no reason for them to find out the truth, either. (significantly) Because, naturally, I won't say anything. CONNELL turns sharply, stares at her a moment puzzled, then grins. CONNELL (grinning) Okay, sister, you get your job back. ANN Plus a bonus. CONNELL What bonus? CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She takes the plunge. She is a little frightened at her own nerve, but she is going to brazen it out. ANN (tries to drop it casually) Oh, the bonus of a thousand dollars the Chronicle was going to pay me for this little document. You'll find it says, er: "I, Ann Mitchell, hereby certify that the John Doe letter was created by me—" MED. SHOT: As she speaks, she gets the "little document" out of her bag, hands it to CONNELL who glares at her, takes the paper and starts to read. Ann leans over his shoulder. POP peers over his other shoulder. CONNELL I can read. I can read! ANN Sorry. She backs away. CONNELL continues reading her confession. CONNELL So you think this is worth a thousand dollars, do you? ANN (very carelessly) Oh, the Chronicle would consider it dirt cheap. CONNELL Packs everything, including a gun. (flings paper on desk) Okay, sister, you've got yourself a deal. Now let's take a look at the candidates. The one we pick has gotta be the typical average man. Typical American that can keep his mouth shut. POP Show me an American who can keep his mouth shut and—I'll eat him. CONNELL (opens door) Okay, Beany, bring 'em in one at a time. (he steps back and rubs his hands in anticipation) Wipe to: Montage: Half a dozen different types of hoboes appear—and in each instance ANN shakes her head, negatively. WIPE TO: CLOSE SHOT: Of a TALL CHAP, head hanging shyly. TWO SHOT: Of ANN and CONNELL. They are impressed. FULL SHOT: ANN and CONNELL exchange hopeful glances and begin slowly walking around the new candidate. CLOSE-UP: Of TALL CHAP. He feels awkward under this scrutiny. WIDER SHOT: CONNELL stops in his examination of the man. CONNELL Did you write that letter to Miss Mitchell? TALL CHAP (after a pause) No, I didn't. ANN, CONNELL and POP evince their surprise. CONNELL What are you doing up here then? TALL CHAP Well, the paper said there were some jobs around loose. Thought there might be one left over. They study him for a second, then ANN walks over close to him. TWO SHOT: ANN and TALL CHAP. ANN Had any schooling? TALL CHAP Yeah, a little. ANN What do you do when you work? TALL CHAP (slight pause) I used to pitch. ANN Baseball? TALL CHAP Uh-huh. Till my wing[4] went bad. ANN Where'd you play? TALL CHAP Bush leagues mostly.[5] Med. shot: To include the rest of them. They have their eyes glued on his face. ANN is very much interested. CONNELL How about family? Got any family? TALL CHAP (after a pause) No. CONNELL Oh, just traveling through, huh? TALL CHAP Yeah. Me and a friend of mine. He's outside. CONNELL nods to the others to join him in a huddle. He crosses to a corner. They follow. CLOSE THREE SHOT: They speak in subdued voices. CONNELL Looks all right— ANN He's perfect! A baseball player. What could be more American! CONNELL I wish he had a family, though. POP Be less complicated without a family. ANN Look at that face. It's wonderful. They'll believe him . Come on. CLOSE-UP: Of TALL CHAP. He is a strange, bewildered figure. He knows he is being appraised, but doesn't know why. He fingers his hat nervously and looks around the room. Suddenly he is attracted by something. CLOSE-UP: Of tray of sandwiches on CONNELL's desk. CLOSE-UP: Of TALL CHAP. He swallows hard. His eyes stare at the sandwiches hungrily. MED. SHOT: Over his shoulder. Shooting toward the huddling group. It breaks up. They walk toward him. MED. SHOT: - ANOTHER ANGLE CONNELL What's your name? TALL CHAP Willoughby. John Willoughby, Long John Willoughby they called me in baseball. ANN Er, would you, er, would you like to make some money? JOHN Yeah, maybe. NOTE: Henceforth in this script he shall be referred to as JOHN DOE. ANN Would you be willing to say you wrote that letter—and stick by it? JOHN Oh, I get the idea. Yeah, maybe. There is an appraising pause, and CONNELL again signals them to join him in a huddle. They exit to their corner. CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. His eyes immediately go to the sandwiches. CLOSE-UP: Of tray, with sandwiches and milk, on desk. CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. His eyes riveted on tray. He glances, speculatively, over toward them and then back to the tray. MED. SHOT: Of the huddled group. ANN That's our man. He's made to order. CONNELL I don't know. He don't seem like a guy that'd fall into line. ANN (it's significant to her) When you're desperate for money, you do a lot of things, Mr. Connell. He's our man, I tell you. Suddenly, they are startled by a loud thud: they all look around sharply. ANN He's fainted! Get some water quickly! As all three rush to him. CONNELL Hurry up, Pop. ANN Oh. CONNELL (to John) Right here. Sit down. JOHN Huh? ANN Are you all right? JOHN Yeah, I'm all right. DISSOLVE TO: INT. ANN'S OFFICE. CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN—sitting at ANN's desk, just completing a meal—and still eating voraciously. CAMERA draws back and we find another bindle-stiff sitting beside JOHN, packing food away in silence. He is the friend JOHN referred to. He is much older and goes by the name of COLONEL. CAMERA continues to PULL BACK revealing ANN who sits nearby, watching them sympathetically. CLOSE SHOT: JOHN and the COLONEL. They continue eating. JOHN glances up and catches ANN's eye. He smiles self- consciously. CLOSE-UP: Of ANN. She, too, smiles warmly. MED. SHOT: They continue to eat silently. ANN How many is that, six? Pretty hungry, weren't you? COLONEL Say, all this John Doe business is batty, if yuh ask me. ANN Well, nobody asked yuh. COLONEL Trying to improve the world by jumping off buildings. You couldn't improve the world if the building jumped on you! JOHN (to Ann) Don't mind the Colonel. He hates people. ANN He likes you well enough to stick around. JOHN Oh, that's 'cause we both play doohickies. I met him in a box car a couple o' years ago. I was foolin' around with my harmonica and he comes over and joins in. I haven't been able to shake him since. FULL SHOT: SUDDENLY, he starts to play the overture from "William Tell." The COLONEL whips out an ocarina and joins him. ANN stares, amused. The door opens and CONNELL and BEANY barge in, followed by half a dozen photographers. CONNELL All right, boys, here he is. ANN (jumping up) No, no, no! You can't take pictures of him like that—eating a sandwich—and with a beard! She waves the photographers out, and shuts the door. CONNELL But, he's gonna jump off a building! ANN Yes, but not because he's out of a job. That's not news! This man's going to jump as a matter of principle. CONNELL Well, maybe you're right. ANN We'll clean him up and put him in a hotel room—under bodyguards. We'll make a mystery out of him. (suddenly) Did you speak to Mr. Norton? CONNELL (nods) Thinks it's terrific. Says for us to go the limit. Wants us to build a bonfire under every big shot in the state. ANN Oh, swell! Is that the contract? (seeing paper in CONNELL's hand) CONNELL Yes. (sees the COLONEL) What's he doing here? ANN Friend of his. They play duets together. CONNELL Duets? But can we trust him? ANN Oh! JOHN I trust him. CONNELL Oh, you trust him, eh? Well, that's fine. I suppose he trusts you, too? ANN Oh, stop worrying. He's all right. COLONEL (insulted) That's— CONNELL Well, okay. But we don't want more than a couple o' hundred people in on this thing. Now the first thing I want is an exact copy of the John Doe letter in your own handwriting. ANN I got it all ready. Here. CONNELL Well, that's fine. Now I want you to sign this agreement. It gives us an exclusive story under your name day by day from now until Christmas. On December twenty-sixth, you get one railroad ticket out of town, and the Bulletin agrees to pay to have your arm fixed. That's what you want, isn't it? JOHN Yeah, but it's got to be by Bone- Setter Brown. CONNELL Okay, Bone-Setter Brown goes. Here, sign it. Meanwhile, here's fifty dollars for spending money. That's fine. Beany! BEANY Yeah, Boss? CONNELL Take charge of him. Get him a suite at the Imperial and hire some bodyguards. ANN Yeah, and some new clothes, Beany. BEANY Do you think we better have him de- loused? CONNELL Yeah, yeah, yeah. BEANY Both of 'em? CONNELL Yes, both of 'em! But don't let him out of your sight. ANN Hey, Beany, gray suit, huh? BEANY Yeah. CONNELL Okay, fellows. ANN Take it easy, John Doe. JOHN and the COLONEL follow BEANY out. CONNELL (turns to Ann) And you! Start pounding that typewriter. Oh, boy! This is terrific! No responsibilities on our part. Just statements from John Doe and we can blast our heads off. ANN (interrupting) Before you pop too many buttons, don't forget to make out that check for a thousand. CONNELL (grimaces) Awwwww! DISSOLVE TO: INT. LIVING-ROOM OF SUITE FULL SHOT: The door opens and BEANY enters. He is followed by JOHN and the COLONEL. JOHN glances around, impressed. The COLONEL looks glum. MED. SHOT: At door. As JOHN exits scene into the room, tailed by the unhappy COLONEL. BEANY beckons someone out in the corridor. BEANY Okay, fellas. Three bruisers stand in the doorway. BEANY Now, lemme see. You sit outside the door. Nobody comes in, see. You two fellas sit in here. AS THEY REACH FOR CHAIRS, CUT TO: MED. SHOT: JOHN is pleased as his gaze wanders around the room JOHN Hey, pretty nifty, huh? COLONEL You ain't gonna get me to stay here. JOHN Sure, you are. COLONEL No, sir. That spot under the bridge where we slept last night's good enough for me. While he speaks, JOHN has managed to get a glimpse of himself in a mirror—admiring his new suit. BELL HOP Hey, what'll I do with this baggage? BEANY Aw, stick 'em in the bedroom. COLONEL Gimme mine. I ain't staying! You know we were headed for the Columbia River country before all this John Doe business came up. You remember that, don't yuh? JOHN Sure. I remember . . . Say, did your ears pop coming up in the elevator? Mine did. COLONEL Aw, Long John . . . I tell you—it's no good. You're gonna get used to a lotta stuff that's gonna wreck you. Why, that fifty bucks in your pocket's beginning to show up on you already. And don't pull that on me neither! (as John brings out harmonica) JOHN Stop worrying, Colonel. I'm gonna get my arm fixed out of this. WIDER SHOT: As BEANY enters scene with box of cigars. BEANY Here's some cigars the boss sent up. Have one. JOHN's eyes light up. JOHN Hey, cigars! He grabs one and stuffs it in his mouth. BEANY (to Colonel) Help yourself. COLONEL Naw. JOHN flops into a luxurious chair—and immediately ANGELFACE holds a light up for his cigar. JOHN looks up, pleased. JOHN Say, I'll bet yuh even the Major Leaguers don't rate an outfit like this. ANGELFACE (hands him a newspaper) Here. Make yourself comfortable. (turns to the Colonel) Paper? COLONEL (sharply) I don't read no papers and I don't listen to radios either. I know the world's been shaved by a drunken barber and I don't have to read it. ANGELFACE backs away, puzzled. COLONEL (crosses to John) I've seen guys like you go under before. Guys that never had a worry. Then they got ahold of some dough and went goofy. The first thing that happens to a guy— BEANY Hey, did yuh get a load of the bedroom? JOHN No. BEANY beckons to him to follow, which JOHN does with great interest. INT. BEDROOM FULL SHOT: As BEANY and JOHN puff luxuriously on their cigars and examine the room. COLONEL (in doorway) The first thing that happens to a guy like that—he starts wantin' to go into restaurants and sit at a table and eat salads—and cup cakes—and tea— (disgusted) Boy, what that kinda food does to your system! JOHN pushes on the bed and is impressed with its softness. COLONEL The next thing the dope wants is a room. Yes sir, a room with steam heat! And curtains and rugs and 'fore you know it, he's all softened up and he can't sleep 'less he has a bed. CLOSE-UP: Of BEANY. He stares, bewildered, at the COLONEL. WIDER SHOT: JOHN turns and crosses to window. JOHN (as he goes) Hey, stop worrying, Colonel. Fifty bucks ain't going to ruin me. COLONEL I seen plenty of fellers start out with fifty bucks and wind up with a bank account! BEANY (can't stand it any more) Hey, whatsa matter with a bank account, anyway? COLONEL (ignoring him) And let me tell you, Long John. When you become a guy with a bank account, they got you. Yes sir, they got you! BEANY Who's got him? COLONEL The heelots! BEANY Who? JOHN (at the window) Hey. There's the City Hall tower I'm supposed to jump off of. It's even higher than this. BEANY Who's got him? COLONEL The heelots! CLOSE-UP: JOHN opens window and leans out. CLOSE-UP: Of BEANY. His eyes pop; he's petrified. MED. SHOT: JOHN stretches far out of the window, and quickly bounces back. JOHN Wow! At the same time BEANY springs to his side and yanks him back. BEANY Hey, wait a minute! You ain't supposed to do that till Christmas Eve! Wanta get me in a jam? JOHN (twinkle in his eye) If it's gonna get you in a jam, I'll do you a favor. I won't jump. He exits to the living room. INT. LIVING ROOM FULL SHOT: As JOHN enters, flicking ashes from his cigar, grandly, the COLONEL leaves the doorway, still pursuing his point. COLONEL And when they get you, you got no more chance than a road-rabbit. BEANY (dogging the COLONEL) Hey. Who'd you say was gonna get him? JOHN Say, is this one of those places where you ring if you want something? BEANY Yeah. Just use the phone. The thought of this delights JOHN. JOHN Boy! I've always wanted to do this! He goes to the phone. BEANY Hey, Doc, look. Look, Doc. Gimme that again, will yuh? Who's gonna get him? COLONEL The heelots! BEANY Who are they? TWO SHOT: The COLONEL finally levels off on BEANY. COLONEL Listen, sucker, yuh ever been broke? BEANY Sure. Mostly often. COLONEL All right. You're walking along—not a nickel in your jeans—free as the wind—nobody bothers you—hundreds of people pass yuh by in every line of business—shoes, hats, automobiles, radio, furniture, everything. They're all nice, lovable people, and they let you alone. Is that right? CLOSE-UP: Of BEANY—nodding his head, bewildered. COLONEL'S VOICE Then you get hold of some dough, and what happens? BEANY instinctively shakes his head. TWO SHOT: The COLONEL takes on a sneering expression. COLONEL All those nice, sweet, lovable people become heelots. A lotta heels. (mysterioso) They begin creeping up on you—trying to sell you something. They've got long claws and they get a strangle- hold on you—and you squirm—and duck and holler—and you try to push 'em away—but you haven't got a chance—they've got you! First thing you know, you own things. A car, for instance. BEANY has been following him, eyes blinking, mouth open. COLONEL Now your whole life is messed up with more stuff—license fees—and number plates—and gas and oil—and taxes and insurance— CLOSE SHOT: Of the LUGS at the door. One of them listens with a half-smile on his face. The other, more goofy, looks bewildered. He has been listening—and now, slowly rises, ears cocked, frightened by the harrowing tale. CAMERA retreats before him—as he slowly walks nearer to BEANY and the COLONEL. Meantime, we continue to hear the COLONEL'S voice. COLONEL'S VOICE and identification cards—and letters—and bills—and flat tires—and dents—and traffic tickets and motorcycle cops and court rooms—and lawyers—and fines— WIDER SHOT: The LUG steps up directly behind BEANY—and the two horrified faces are close together—both staring at the COLONEL. COLONEL And a million and one other things. And what happens? You're not the free and happy guy you used to be. You gotta have money to pay for all those things—so you go after what the other feller's got— (with finality) And there you are—you're a heelot yourself! CLOSE SHOT: Of the two heads of BEANY and the LUG. They continue to stare, wide-eyed, at the COLONEL. WIDER SHOT: As JOHN approaches the COLONEL. JOHN (smiling) You win, Colonel. Here's the fifty. Go on out and get rid of it. COLONEL (as he goes) You bet I will! As fast as I can! Gonna get some canned goods—a fishing rod, and the rest I'm gonna give away. ANGELFACE (aghast) Give away? JOHN (calling) Hey. Get me a pitcher's glove! Got to get some practice. ANGELFACE Say, he's giving it away! I'm gonna get me some of that! BEANY Hey, come back here, yuh heelot! JOHN (on the phone) Will you send up five hamburgers with all the trimmings, five chocolate ice cream sodas, and five pieces of apple pie? No, apple, with cheese. Yeah. Thank you. JOHN hangs up. The COLONEL has just reached the door when it flies open and Ann comes in with photographer EDDIE—she sees JOHN all dressed up. ANN Hello there. Well, well! If it isn't the man about town! EDDIE All set, Ann? ANN (coming out of it) Huh? Oh, yes. Let's go. (she backs away) Now, let's see. We want some action in these pictures. JOHN Action? ANN Um-hum. JOHN winds up in pitching pose—his left leg lifted up high. EDDIE That's good. ANN No, no, no. This man's going to jump off a roof. EDDIE Oh. ANN Here. Wait a minute. Let me comb your hair. Sit down. There. That's better. CLOSE SHOT: She combs his hair—straightens his tie—etc. He inhales the fragrance of her hair and likes it—winks to the others. She poses JOHN's face and looks it over. ANN You know, he's got a nice face, hasn't he? ANGELFACE Yeh—he's pretty. JOHN gives him a look and starts to get up slowly. ANN Here. Sit down! (to ANGELFACE) Quiet, egghead! (back to JOHN) All right, now, a serious expression. JOHN (laughing) Can't. I'm feeling too good. ANN Oh, come on, now. This is serious. You're a man disgusted with all of civilization. JOHN With all of it? ANN Yes, you're sore at the world. Come on, now. JOHN Oh, crabby guy, huh? He tries scowling. ANN Yeah. No, no! (laughing) No! No, look. You don't have to smell the world! (the men laugh) JOHN Well, all those guys in the bleachers think— ANN Never mind those guys. All right, stand up. Now let's see what you look like when you protest. JOHN Against what? ANN Against anything. Just protest. JOHN (laughing) You got me. ANN Oh, look. I'm the umpire, and you just cut the heart of the plate with your fast one and I call it a ball. What would you do? JOHN (advances toward her) Oh, yuh did, huh? ANN Yes! JOHN Why can't you call right, you bone- headed, pig-eared, lop-eared, pot- bellied— ANN Grab it, Eddie, grab it! Eddie takes the picture. A MONTAGE: OF NEWSPAPER INSERTS FEATURING JOHN DOE'S PICTURE. "I protest against collapse of decency in the world." "I protest against corruption in local politics." "I protest against civic heads being in league with crime." "I protest against state relief being used as political football." "I protest against County Hospitals shutting out the needy." "I protest against all the brutality and slaughter in the world." CLOSE-UP: SUPERIMPOSED over all of the above is a CIRCULATION CHART—showing the circulation of the Bulletin in a constant rise. DISSOLVE TO: INT. GOVERNOR'S STUDY MED. SHOT: The GOVERNOR paces furiously. In front of him are several associates. GOVERNOR I don't care whose picture they're publishing. I still say that this John Doe person is a myth. And you can quote me on that. And I'm going to insist on his being produced for questioning. You know as well as I do that this whole thing is being engineered by a vicious man with a vicious purpose—Mr. D. B. Norton. As he finishes saying this, DISSOLVE TO: EXT. D. B.'S ESTATE CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. NORTON. Camera pulls back and we find him on horseback. REVERSE LONG SHOT: We discover that he is watching the maneuvers of a motorcycle corps who are in uniform. They are being drilled by TED SHELDON. MED. SHOT: As a groom rides toward D. B. GROOM Mr. Connell and Miss Mitchell are at the house, sir. D. B. Oh, they are? All right, come on. DISSOLVE TO: INT. D. B. 'S STUDY MED. SHOT—PANNING: As ANN, D. B. and CONNELL enter and cross to D. B. 's desk. ANN (as they walk) Personally, I think it's just plain stupidity to drop it now. They reach D. B. 's desk and stop. ANN You should see his fan mail! Thousands! Why, it's going over like a house afire! CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. He studies her a moment before he turns to CONNELL. D. B. What are you afraid of, Connell? It's doubled our circulation. WIDER SHOT: To include all three. CONNELL Yeah, but it's got everybody sore. Ads are being pulled—the Governor's starting a libel suit—what's more, they all know John Doe's a phoney—and they insist on seeing him. ANN Well, what about it? Let them see him! We'll go them one better. They can also hear him. (to D. B.) You own a radio station, Mr. Norton. Why not put him on the air? CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. He admires her fight. CONNELL'S VOICE Watch out for this dame, D. B. She'll drive you batty! ANN Ohh! WIDER SHOT: To include all three. CONNELL Look. We can't let 'em get to this bush-league pitcher and start pumping him. Good night! No telling what that screwball might do. I walked in yesterday—here he is, standing on a table with a fishing pole flycasting. Take my advice and get him out of town before this thing explodes in our faces! ANN If you do, Mr. Norton, you're just as much of a dumb cluck as he is! Excuse me. CONNELL (to Ann—hotly) No, you've got yourself a meal ticket and you hate to let go. ANN Sure, it's a meal ticket for me. I admit it, but it's also a windfall for somebody like Mr. Norton who's trying to crash national politics. (she turns to D. B.) That's what you bought the newspaper for, isn't it? You wanta reach a lotta people, don't you? Well, put John Doe on the air and you can reach a hundred and fifty million of 'em. He can say anything he wants and they'll listen to him. CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. Fascinated by ANN. WIDER SHOT: CONNELL stares at her derisively. D. B. is completely absorbed. ANN All right, let's not forget the Governor, the Mayor and all small fry like that. This can arouse national interest! If he made a hit around here—he can do it everywhere else in the country! And you'll be pulling the strings, Mr. Norton! CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. His eyes have begun to light up with extensive plans. WIDER SHOT: D. B. continues to study ANN with deep interest. Then he turns to CONNELL. D. B. Go down to the office and arrange for some radio time. CONNELL (protesting) Why, D. B., you're not going to fall for— D. B. (interrupting sharply) I want it as soon as possible. CONNELL (shrugging) Okay. I just came in to get warm, myself. Come on, let's go. He starts out. ANN picks up her bag, prepared to follow CONNELL. D. B. Er, don't you go. I want to talk to you. CONNELL goes. ANN waits, somewhat nervously. D. B. (when CONNELL is gone) Sit down. MED. TWO SHOT: ANN and D. B. D. B. studies her for a moment. D. B. . . . Er, this John Doe idea is yours, huh? ANN Yes, sir. D. B. How much money do you get? ANN Thirty dollars. D. B. (probingly) Thirty dollars? Well, er, what are you after? I mean, what do you want? A journalistic career? ANN Money. D. B. (laughs) Money? Well, I'm glad to hear somebody admit it. Do you suppose you could write a radio speech that would put that fellow over? ANN Oh, I'm sure I can. D. B. Do it, and I'll give you a hundred dollars a week. ANN A hundred dollars! D. B. That's only the beginning. You play your cards right and you'll never have to worry about money again. Oh, I knew it. ANN'S eyes brighten with excitement. They are interrupted by the arrival of TED SHELDON, in uniform. D. B. (to TED) Hello. Whenever there's a pretty woman around, er— (laughing) This is my nephew, Ted Sheldon, Miss Mitchell. ANN How do you do. TED How do you do! D. B. All right, Casanova. I'll give you a break. See that Miss Mitchell gets a car to take her home. TED Always reading my mind, aren't you? ANN (laughing) Thank you very much for everything. D. B. And, Miss Mitchell—I think from now on you'd better work directly with me. ANN Yes, sir. They exit. D. B. walks to the door, a pleased expression on his face. CLOSE-UP: Of D. B. His face wreathed in a victorious smile. FADE-OUT: FADE IN: INT. ANNE'S LIVING ROOM CLOSE SHOT: Of ANN. She sits at a typewriter reading something she has written. Suddenly, impulsively, she yanks the sheet out of the machine and flings it to the floor. As she rises, camera pulls back. We find the floor littered with previously unsuccessful attempts to get the speech written. For a moment, ANN paces agitatedly, until she is interrupted by a commotion. MED. SHOT: At door. ANN's two sisters, IRENE and ELLEN, aged nine and eleven—and dressed in their sleeping pajamas, dash in, squealing mischievously. Camera pans with them as they rush to ANN and leap on her. ANN Oh! Hey! Oh, hey! I thought you were asleep! ELLEN We just wanted to say good night, Sis. They embrace and kiss her. ANN Oh, oh! Oh, you little brats! You're just stalling. I said good night! MED. SHOT: At door. ANN'S MOTHER appears in the doorway. She is a prim little woman—her clothes have a touch of the Victorian about them—her hair is done up in old-fashioned style, her throat is modestly covered in lace. MOTHER (above the din) Come, come, come, children. It's past your bedtime. ELLEN Oh, all right. MOTHER Go on! ELLEN Come on, Pooch! Come on, come on. MOTHER Now, keep Pooch off the bed. The CHILDREN exit, squealing. ANN'S MOTHER goes to ANN's desk and searches for something. ANN Stick a fork through me! I'm done. I'll never get this speech right. MOTHER Oh, yes you will, Ann dear . . . you're very clever. ANN Yeah, I know. What are you looking for? MOTHER Your purse. I need ten dollars. ANN What for? I gave you fifty just the other day. MOTHER Yes, I know, dear, but Mrs. Burke had her baby yesterday. Nine pounds! And there wasn't a thing in the house—and then this morning the Community Chest lady came around and— ANN And the fifty's all gone, huh? Who's the ten for? MOTHER The Websters. ANN The Websters! MOTHER You remember those lovely people your father used to take care of? I thought I'd buy them some groceries. Oh, Ann, dear, it's a shame, those poor— ANN You're marvelous, Ma. You're just like Father used to be. Do you realize a couple of weeks ago we didn't have enough to eat ourselves? MOTHER Well, yes, I know, dear, but these people are in such need and we have plenty now. ANN If you're thinking of that thousand dollars, forget it. It's practically gone. We owed everybody in town. Now, you've just gotta stop giving all your money away. Her MOTHER looks up, surprised at her tone. MRS. MITCHELL Oh, Ann, dear! CLOSE-UP: ANN realizes she has spoken sharply to her MOTHER and immediately regrets it. Her face softens. MED. SHOT: As ANN crosses to her MOTHER—and places an arm around her shoulder, tenderly. ANN Oh, I'm sorry, Ma. Oh, don't pay any attention to me. I guess I'm just upset about all this. Gee whiz, here I am with a great opportunity to get somewhere, to give us security for once in our lives, and I'm stuck. If I could put this over, your Mrs. Burke can have six babies! MOTHER Do you mean the speech you're writing? ANN Yeah, I don't know. I simply can't get it to jell! I created somebody who's gonna give up his life for a principle, hundreds of thousands of people are gonna listen to him over the radio and, unless he says something that's, well, that's sensational, it's just no good! MOTHER Well, honey, of course I don't know what kind of a speech you're trying to write, but judging from the samples I've read, I don't think anybody'll listen. ANN What? MOTHER Darling, there are so many complaining political speeches. People are tired of hearing nothing but doom and despair on the radio. If you're going to have him say anything, why don't you let him say something simple and real, something with hope in it? If your father were alive, he'd know what to say. ANN Oh, yes, Father certainly would. MOTHER Wait a minute . . . ANN Huh? MRS. MITCHELL crosses to a desk, finds a key and unlocks a compartment. ANN watches her, curiously. CLOSE SHOT: MRS. MITCHELL extracts a diary from the compartment, which she handles very tenderly. CAMERA PANS with her as she goes back to ANN. MOTHER That's your father's diary, Ann. ANN Father's . . . I never knew he had a diary. MOTHER There's enough in it for a hundred speeches, things people ought to hear nowadays. You be careful of it, won't you dear? It's always helped keep your father alive for me. ANN (holds MOTHER's hand to her cheek) You bet I will, Ma. Her mother abruptly leaves. CLOSE-UP: ANN turns her attention to the diary. As she opens it, her eyes sparkle expectantly. She becomes interested in the first thing she sees. DISSOLVE TO: INT. CORRIDOR OF HOTEL MED. SHOT: At door of JOHN's suite. A crowd of people are around the door trying to crash it. The LUG on guard stands before the door. LUG Wait a minute. John Doe don't wanta sign no autographs. INQUIRER Well, what does he do all day? LUG What does he do all day? He's writin' out his memories! CUT TO: INT. LIVING ROOM MED. SHOT: BEANY is on the telephone. He is apparently weary from answering them all day. BEANY Sorry, lady. you can't see Mr. Doe. He wants to be alone. No, no, he just sits around all day and commutes with himself. CAMERA SWINGS around to JOHN. He stands in the middle of the floor, his pitcher's glove on, playing an imaginary game of ball. He winds up and throws an imaginary ball. CLOSE-UP: Of the COLONEL. He wears a catcher's mitt—and smacks it as if he just caught the ball. BEANY (umpiring) Ba-ll! COLONEL I don't know how you're gonna stand it around here till after Christmas. FULL SHOT: At the door are the two LUGS, watching the imaginary ball game. The COLONEL takes a couple of steps over home plate, and throws the "ball" back to JOHN who picks it up out of the air. COLONEL (as he steps back behind the plate) I betcha yuh ain't heard a train whistle in two weeks. He crouches on his knees—and gives JOHN a signal. BEANY St-rike! COLONEL I know why you're hangin' around—you're stuck on a girl—that's all a guy needs is to get hooked up with a woman. CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN. He shakes his head, and waits for another sign. When he gets it, he nods. He steps onto the mound—winds up and lets another one go. This is apparently a hit, for his eyes shoot skyward, and he quickly turns—watching the progress of the ball as it is flung to first base. From his frown we know the man is safe. CLOSE SHOT: Of the two LUGS, ANGELFACE and MIKE. ANGELFACE is seriously absorbed in the game. MIKE leans against the wall, eyes narrowed, a plan going on in his head. ANGELFACE (seriously) What was that? A single? CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. JOHN (explaining) The first baseman dropped the ball. CLOSE-UP: Of ANGELFACE. ANGELFACE (shouting at "firstbaseman") Butterfingers! (back to John) That's tough luck, Pal. MED. SHOT: JOHN disregards him completely. He is too much absorbed with the man on first. He now has the stance of a pitch without the windup. COLONEL When a guy has a woman on his hands—the first thing he knows his life is balled up with a lot more things—furniture and— CLOSE SHOT: Of JOHN. He catches the "ball"—gets into position—nods to his catcher—raises his hands in the air, takes a peek toward first base—and suddenly wheels around FACING CAMERA, and whips the "ball" toward first base. Almost immediately his face lights up. CLOSE-UP: Of ANGELFACE. ANGELFACE Did you get him? CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He winks. BEANY (umpiring) You're out! FULL SHOT: JOHN flips the glove off his hand so that it dangles from his wrist—and massages the ball with his two palms. ANGELFACE That's swell! What's this—the end of the eighth? JOHN Ninth! He steps into the "pitcher's box". WIDER SHOT: Just as they take their positions, the LUG, from outside, partly opens the door. LUG Hey, Beany! There's a coupla lugs from the Chronicle snooping around out here! BEANY immediately comes from background. BEANY Come on, Angelface! Gangway! As they reach the door, the LUG speaks to ANGELFACE. LUG What's the score, Angelface? ANGELFACE Three to two—our favor. LUG Gee, that's great! CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. He has heard this and grins mischievously. He starts winding up for another pitch. CLOSE-UP: Of MIKE. He looks around mischievously, then turns to JOHN. MIKE You've got swell form. Must have been a pretty good pitcher. WIDER SHOT: JOHN is just receiving the ball. JOHN Pretty good? Say, I was just about ready for the major leagues when I chipped a bone in my elbow. I got it pitchin' a nineteen-inning game! MIKE Nineteen! JOHN Yep. There was a major league scout there watching me, too. And he came down after the game with a contract. Do you know what? I couldn't life my arm to sign it. But I'll be okay again as soon as I get it fixed up. MIKE (picks up newspaper—sighing) That's too bad. JOHN What do you mean, too bad? MIKE (pretending distraction) Huh? Oh, that you'll never be able to play again. JOHN Well, what are you talking about? I just told you I was gonna get a— MIKE (interrupting carelessly) Well, you know how they are in baseball—if a guy's mixed up in a racket— JOHN (walking over) Racket? What do you mean? MIKE Well, I was just thinking about this John Doe business. Why, as soon as it comes out it's all a fake, you'll be washed up in baseball, won't you? JOHN Y-yeah. Gee, doggone it, I never thought about that. Gosh! MIKE And another thing, what about all the kids in the country, the kids that idolize ball players? What are they gonna think about you? (shakes his head) Close shot: Of the COLONEL. He has dropped his glove—flopped into a chair—and has taken out his ocarina. JOHN'S VOICE Hey, did you hear that, Colonel? The COLONEL nods, disinterestedly, and begins to play. WIDER SHOT: JOHN ponders his dilemma for a second. JOHN I gotta figure some way out of this thing! COLONEL The elevators are still runnin'. MIKE (carelessly) I know one way you can do it. JOHN How? MIKE Well, when you get up on the radio, all you have to do is say the whole thing's a frame-up. Make you a hero sure as you're born! John thinks this over, but something troubles him. JOHN Yeah, but how am I gonna get my arm fixed? MIKE Well, that's a cinch. I know somebody that'll give you five thousand dollars just to get up on the radio and tell the truth. COLONEL (eyes popping) Five thousand dollars? MIKE Yeah. Five thousand dollars. And he gets it right away. You don't have to wait till Christmas. COLONEL Look out, Long John! They're closing in on you! JOHN (ignores COLONEL) Say, who's putting up this dough? MIKE Feller runs the Chronicle . (takes it out of his pocket) Here's the speech you make—and it's all written out for you. JOHN takes it. CLOSE-UP: Of the COLONEL. COLONEL (eyes heaven-ward) Five thousand dollars! Holy mackerel! I can see the heelots comin'. The whole army of them! MIKE It's on the level. CLOSE-UP: Of JOHN. DISSOLVE TO: INT. BROADCASTING STATION CLOSE SHOT: TELEPHONE OPERATORS. 1ST GIRL No, I'm sorry. Tickets for the broadcast are all gone. Phone the Bulletin. 2ND GIRL Sorry. No more tickets left. MED. SHOT: Crowd chattering—they recognize JOHN DOE coming in. CLOSE SHOT: At a side door in broadcasting station. As the COLONEL and MIKE take their places. INT. OFFICE IN BROADCASTING STATION FULL SHOT: JOHN is led by BEANY into the office. They are immediately followed by several photographers. BEANY Here he is. ANN Hello, John. All set for the big night? Swell! PHOTOGRAPHER Turn around. 2ND PHOTOGRAPHER One moment—hold it! Now stand still, Mr. Doe. ANN Okay, Beany, take them outside. TWO SHOT: JOHN and ANN. ANN Now, look, John. Here's the speech. It's in caps and double-spaced. You won't have any trouble reading it. Not nervous, are you? JOHN No. ANN Of course not. He wouldn't be. JOHN Who? ANN John Doe. The one in there. (pointing to speech) BEANY Hey, don't let your knees rattle. It picks up on the mike! ANN Oh, Beany! You needn't be nervous, John. All you have to remember is to be sincere. WIDER SHOT: Man pokes his head in. MAN Pick up the phone, Miss Mitchell. It's for you. ANN (takes phone) Hello? Yes, Mother. Oh, thank you, darling. FULL SHOT: While she speaks on the phone, MRS. BREWSTER barges in, accompanied by two other ladies. MRS. BREWSTER Oh, there he is, the poor, dear man! Oh, good luck to you, Mr. Doe. We want you to know that we're all for you. The girls all decided that you're not to jump off any roof a'tall. Oh, we'll stop it! ANN completes the phone call—crosses to MRS. BREWSTER. ANN Sorry, ladies. Mr. Doe can't be bothered now. He's gotta make a speech out there, and— While she gets them out—MIKE slips into the room. CLOSE SHOT: MIKE and JOHN. MIKE Have you got the speech I gave you? JOHN (taps breast pocket) Yeah. MIKE Now, look. I'll give this money to the Colonel just as soon as you get started. We'll have a car waiting at the side entrance for you. JOHN Okay. FULL SHOT: ANN turns away from the door. ANN (to MIKE) How'd you get in here? MIKE Huh? Oh, I just came in to wish him luck. ANN Come on, out. Out! (turning to John) Mother says good luck, too. John, when you read that speech, please, please believe every word of it. He's turned out to be a wonderful person, John. JOHN Who? ANN John Doe, the one in the speech. JOHN Oh. Yeah. ANN You know something? I've actually fallen in love with him. FULL SHOT: They are interrupted by the arrival of CONNELL. He is accompanied by several photographers—and a beautiful girl in a bathing suit. A banner across her front reads: "Miss Average Girl". CONNELL All right, there he is, sister. Now, come on—plenty of oomph! The GIRL, all smiles, throws her arms around JOHN's shoulder—and strikes a languid pose. The flashlights go off. ANN What's the idea? CONNELL No, no, no. Now that's too much! PHOTOGRAPHER One moment, please. ANN This is no time for cheap publicity, Mr. Connell! CONNELL Listen. If that guy lays an egg. I want to get something out of it. I'm getting a Jane Doe ready! ANN (trying to get rid of them) That's fine, honey. Now, get out! PHOTOGRAPHER All right. I need one more. ANN Go right ahead. While there is this confusion, the COLONEL pushes in and stands in the doorway. COLONEL How're you doin'? CONNELL (calls to Beany outside) All right, Beany—bring 'em in! While CONNELL speaks, two MIDGETS push the COLONEL out of the way and enter the room. The COLONEL glances down—and nearly jumps out of his skin. BEANY follows them in. COLONEL Holy smoke! A half a heelot! BEANY There you are, Boss, just like you ordered. Symbols of the little people. CONNELL Okay. Get them up. BEANY lifts them and places them, one on each of JOHN's arms. The flashlights go off. ANN This is ridiculous, Mr. Connell! Come on, give him a chance. The man's on the air! While she speaks, she tries to shove the photographers out. BOY MIDGET (to girl midget) Come on, Snooks—you better bail out. GIRL MIDGET (coquettishly) Goodbye, Mr. Doe! BEANY lifts her off—and ANN pushes them all out—just as the STAGE MANAGER reappears. STAGE MANAGER Better get ready. One minute to go! TWO SHOT: JOHN and ANN. ANN turns quickly to JOHN. ANN Wow! One minute to go, and the score is nothing to nothing! Now, please, John, you won't let me down, will you? Will you? 'Course you won't. If you'll just think of yourself as the real John Doe. Listen. Everything in that speech are things a certain man believed in. He was my father, John. And when he talked, people listened. They'll listen to you, too. Funny—you know what my mother said the other night? She said to look into your eyes—that I'd see Father there. STAGE MANAGER Hey—what do you say? ANN Okay! We're coming. Come on! Now, listen, John. You're a pitcher. Now, get in there and pitch! (kisses his cheek) Good luck. For a moment he just stares at her, under a spell. Then, turning, he exits. After a second of watching him, ANN follows. STUDIO OFFICIAL Give him room, let him through. Come on. Int. broadcasting stage: Med. shot: Camera retreats in front of JOHN and the official, as they leave the office and proceed to the microphones. Everyone stares curiously at JOHN—whispering to each other. MED. SHOT: Shooting through glass partition, toward control booth. We SEE the TWO MEN at the board. They glance nervously at their watches—then at the clock on the wall. CLOSE SHOT: Of ANN. She has taken a position at a table near the mike. Next to her sits CONNELL. ANN watches JOHN with intense interest. The COLONEL has followed JOHN up to the microphone. COLONEL (to John) Hey. Let's get out o' here. There's the door right there. M.C. Hey, what're you doing here? COLONEL That's what I'd like to know! M.C. Come on, out. Out. JOHN Say, he's a friend of mine. ANN (at John's elbow) Never mind. Let him alone. He's all right. I'll be right over there pulling for you. JOHN starts to follow ANN away from mike. ANN leads him back to mike again. ANN No, John—over here. 2ND M.C. Stand by. MED. SHOT: At door. The COLONEL surreptitiously tries the door, to see that it opens readily. Standing near him is BEANY and the others. MED. SHOT: Group around SPENCER. They wait expectantly. Their eyes sparkling with excitement. SPENCER Phone the Chronicle . Tell 'em to start getting those extras out. MED. SHOT: Toward control booth. The man with the earphones on has his hand up ready to give the signal. He listens a moment, then abruptly drops his hand. CLOSE-UP: The man near the announcer throws his HAND up as a SIGNAL to someone off scene. MED. SHOT: An orchestra in a corner. The conductor waves his baton—and the orchestra blasts out a dramatic fanfare. CLOSE SHOT: ANNOUNCER and JOHN. ANNOUNCER holds his script up and the moment the music stops he speaks dramatically. ANNOUNCER (rapid-fire) And good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is Kenneth Frye, speaking for the New Bulletin . Tonight we give you something entirely new and different. Standing beside me is the young m