TERMINATOR

                                     by


                                 James Cameron

 Registered WGAw





 Fourth Draft

 April 20, 1983



 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------



                          TERMINATOR







 A1      TITLE SEQUENCE - SLITSCAN EFFECT                       A1



 1       EXT. SCHOOLYARD - NIGHT                                1



         Silence.  Gradually the sound of distant traffic becomes

         audible.  A LOW ANGLE bounded on one side by a chain-link

         fence and on the other by the one-story public school build-

         ings.  Spray-can hieroglyphics and distant streetlight sha-

         dows.  This is a Los Angeles public school in a blue collar

         neighborhood.



         ANGLE BETWEEN SCHOOL BUILDINGS, where a trash dumpster looms

         in a LOW ANGLE, part of the clutter behind the gymnasium.

         A CAT enters FRAME.  CAMERA DOLLIES FORWARD, prowling with

         him through the landscape of trash receptacles and shadows.



         CLOSE ON CAT, which freezes, alert, sensing something just

         beyond human perception.



         A sourceless wind rises, and with it a keening WHINE.

         Papers blow across the pavement.

         The cat YOWLS and hides under the dumpster.

         Windows rattle in their frames.

         The WHINE intensifies, accompanied now by a wash of frigid

         PURPLE LIGHT.  A CONCUSSION like a thunderclap right over-

         head blows in all the windows facing the yard.



         C.U. - CAT, its eyes are wide as the glare dies.





 1A/FX   ANGLE - DUMPSTER                                       1A/FX



         ELECTRICAL DISCHARGES arc from the dumpster to a water

         faucet and climb a drain pipe like a Jacob's Ladder.



                                               CUT TO:





 2       EXT. SCHOOLYARD - NIGHT                                2



         SLOW PAN as the sound of stray electrical CRACKLING subsides.

         FRAME comes to rest on the figure of a NAKED MAN kneeling,

         faced away, in the previously empty yard.

         He stands, slowly.

         The man is in his late thirties, tall and powerfully built,

         moving with graceful precision.



         C.U. - MAN, his facial features reiterate the power of his

         body and are dominated by the eyes, which are intense, blue

         and depthless.  His hair is military short.



         This man is the TERMINATOR.



         He glances down, taking calm inventory of himself, and

         notices that a fine white ash covers his skin.  He brushes

         at it unconcernedly as he walks toward the fence, scanning

         his surroundings.



                                               CUT TO:





 2A/FX   CRANE SHOT - SCHOOLYARD/CITY - NIGHT                   2A/FX



         CAMERA MOVES UP as Terminator approaches the schoolyard fence

         beyond which is an embankment rolling down in darkness to the

         cityscape below.  The school is perched at the edge of a pro-

         montory offering a respectable view of the urban sprawl teem-

         ing and glistening under a sullen sky.  The night clouds are

         shot through with occasional flashes of LIGHTNING, presaging

         a thunderstorm.



         Terminator stands, hands on hips in prefect symmetry, gazing

         down at the city as the CAMERA REACHES FULL HEIGHT.



                                               CUT TO:





 3       EXT. PLAYGROUND - NIGHT                               3



         A beer bottle SMASHES on the ground.  PULL BACK to include

         its ex-owner and his two compatriots, YOUTH GANG MEMBERS,

         lounging on the jungle gym of a deserted playground.  They

         sport nondescript PUNK REGALIA...torn T-shirts, fatigue

         pants, combat boots or high-top sneakers, leather jackets.



         The leader notices something and sits up.



                                 LEADER

                            (pointing)

                      Hey, hey...what's wrong with

                      this picture?



         ANGLE - REVERSE, seen past the lounging toughs, Terminator

         walks naked into a pool of streetlight, striding purpose-

         fully toward them.



         ANGLE - OVER TERMINATOR'S SHOULDER, as he approaches them.

         They slide from their perches and drop easily to the ground

         liquid shadows.



                                 LEADER

                      Nice night for a walk, eh?



         Terminator stops right in front of them.



                                 TERMINATOR

                            (without inflec-

                            tion)

                       Nice night for a walk.



         They surround him, all swagger and malign good humor.



                                 SECOND PUNK

                       Washday tomorrow, huh?  Nothing

                       clean, right?



         Terminator eyes them without expression, unhurried.

         Reptilian.



                                 TERMINATOR

                       Nothing clean.  Right.



                                 LEADER

                       This guy's a couple bricks

                       short.



         Terminator turn to the second punk, ignoring the

         others.



                                 TERMINATOR

                       Your clothes.  Give them to me.



         The punks exchange glances, dismayed.



                                 TERMINATOR

                            (coldly)

                       Now.



                                 SECOND PUNK

                            (bracing)

                       Fuck you, asshole.





         Without warning Terminator hammer-punches him in the temple

         with blinding speed.  The blow flings him with a CLANG into

         the jungle gym.  He drops to the ground in a still heap,

         eyes open, twitching.



         The leader whips out his SWITCHBLADE and slashes in one

         motion.  Terminator ducks back and catches the knife-

         wielder's wrist in an inhuman grip.  Then he punches the

         leader with piledriver force just below the breastbone.



         ANGLE - PAVEMENT, as the knife clatters down.  The punk's

         combat boots are on tiptoe, barely touching the ground.



         ANGLE - TWO SHOT, Terminator and the leader are close

         together as if dancing, but motionless.  Their bodies are in

         total shadow.  The punk's eyes are wide, his veins distended

         with an agonizing pressure.  Terminator jerks his fist back

         with a WET SOUND and the other drops OUT OF FRAME.



         The last tough is stumbling away, gaping with terror.  He

         backs into a chainlink fence, turns to run along it, finds

         he is in a corner.



         Terminator takes a step toward him, his gaze ominous.



         The punk begins shakily stripping off his clothes.

         Thunder peals overhead.



                                                CUT TO:



 4       EXT. STREET/NEARBY - NIGHT                             4



         A light RAIN begins to fall.

         Terminator emerges onto the street from the playground,

         pausing in the pool of light under a streetlight to hike

         the collar of the punk's jacket.

                The rain streams down over his face, running into

         and over his eyes.  They do not blink.



                                                CUT TO:



 5       EXT. DOWNTOWN STREET/ALLEY - NIGHT                     5



         Another part of the city.  Seedy apartments and storefronts.

         The streets glisten, hissing with sporadic late night traffic.

         SLOW PAN AND DOLLY into the mouth of a narrow alley lined

         with trash containers and fire escapes.  From a recessed

         doorway, two filthy legs sprawl out onto the wet pavement.

         An angry, inarticulate DRUNKARD'S MONOLOGUE rises occasionally

         above the rain sounds.



         ANGLE - DOORWAY,  The derelict rouses from his bitter stupor

         as a brilliant purple glare lights up the wet brickwork

         around him.  A shockwave hurls trash into the air.

         Painted over windows shatter.

         Rat scurry, blinded.



         A FIGURE drops INTO FRAME as if out of the sky and smacks

         the pavement with a muddy splash.



         C.U. - DERELICT, as he blinks at the fading glare, amazed.



         A NAKED MAN, compact and muscular, rises in a defensive

         crouch.  KYLE REESE is 22, but his face has been aged by

         ordeal, the mouth hard, eyes grim.  A crinkled burn scar

         traverses one side of his face from chin to forehead.  Other

         scars, from burns and bullets, mar his hard-muscled body.



         The rain washes a fine coating of white ash from his skin
本文发布在演艺圈门户网，演艺吧，请勿转载．域名www.yanyi8.com .舞台剧剧本,六一儿童节情景剧 (爱的奇迹)场  景：操
         as electrical ARCS lace back and forth between the fire

         escapes behind him, HISSING and SPUTTERING.  The sound

         fades, then stops altogether, to be replaced by a rising

         scream of animal agony.



         Reese lurches to his feet and sprints across the alley.



                                                CUT TO:



 5A/FX   OMITTED                                                5A/FX



 6       OMITTED                                                6





 7       EXT. FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT                               7



         CAMERA MOVES WITH REESE as he leaps to the fire escape and

         clambers up to the first landing to crouch beside another

         NAKED MAN who appears to be entangled in the ironwork.  The

         man is contorted with pain as his screams die to a shivering

         gasp.  CLOSER ANGLE reveals that he has been skewered through

         the abdomen by the horizontal iron slats and through the

         shoulder by a railing.  He has materialized in the same

         space occupied by the fire escape structure.  The figure

         slumps, motionless.



         Reese quickly checks for signs of life.  The man is dead.



         Reese descend to the alley floor and crosses to the drunk

         huddled in the doorway.



         A pair of flamboyantly dressed women, obviously working

         girls, passes by the alley mouth.  They do a double take

         when they see Reese, but walk on without breaking stride,

         completely jaded.  He's certainly not a potential customer.



         Reese crouches down as if to speak to the drunk.



                                 DERELICT

                       Say, buddy...did you see a

                       real bright light?



                                                CUT TO:



 8       EXT. ALLEY/SAME - NIGHT                                8



         A brilliant white glare stabs into the alley mouth as an

         LAPD cruiser glides slowly by on the street.  The search-

         light illuminates the figure of Reese, crouching over the

         sprawled drunk, just pulling on the other's trousers.



         The cruiser chirps to a stop.  The doors fly open and two

         cops leap out.



                                 FIRST COP

                       Hold it, right there!



         Reese hitches his pants and bolt like a shot.  The cops

         draw their guns and race into the alley after him.



         HANDHELD CAMERA or PANAGLIDE, rushing with Reese along the

         narrow alley.  He vaults a pile of tumbled trashcans.

         Whips around a corner.  Leaps the hood of a parked car in

         the cross alley.



         PANAGLIDE PRECEDING COPS, as they snake through the night

         maze.



                                                CUT TO:



 9       EXT. CROSS ALLEY - NIGHT                               9



         PANAGLIDE WITH REESE as he hits a chain link gate at a

         dead run and scrambles over it.



 10      EXT. ALLEY JUNCTION - NIGHT                            10



         WHIP PAN ON COPS, skidding to a stop at the corner in time

         to see Reese vault the fence.  They separate.



         DOLLY WITH SECOND COP, as he runs to the gate.



                                                CUT TO:



 11      EXT. ALLEY/NEARBY - NIGHT                              11



         LOW PANAGLIDE WITH REESE, running full tilt, displaying

         incredible agility.



         REESE'S POV, the alley walls blur by.  The view of a hot-

         wired rat in an urban maze.



         C.U. - REESE, CAMERA hugging him as he sprints and turns,

         alternately front-lit, side-lit and silhouetted as the

         electric glare of the city wheels about him.



         ANGLE - ALLEY MOUTH, Reese flashes though intermittent

         cross-lighting in the B.G.



         Another unit arrives out front and Reese melts back into

         the alley, only to see a cop round the corner behind him.

         Sandwiched.  Reese crashes into a steel door, rending the

         lock, and vanishes into the darkness within.



         The newly arrived cops are a K-9 unit.  They open the back

         door of the squad car to release a large black Doberman.



                                                CUT TO:





 12      INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - NIGHT                          12



         Reese finds himself among the display racks of a discount

         department store.  A searchlight stabs in the front

         window as he dashes into the maze of aisles.



         Three cops enter behind him through the shattered door.



         FAST PANAGLIDE WITH REESE, as he crab-runs low among the

         moving shadows where flashlights quarter the darkness.  He

         bolts the open space behind a display window.  Sees the

         outside searchlight sweep toward him.  Freezes.



         ANGLE - REESE, his feral face frozen among the smooth-

         featured, smiling mannequins.  As the light passes, Reese

         silently moves on.



         ANGLE - COP, passing the end of a long aisle B.G. while in

         the F.G. a hand ENTERS FRAME, removing a knit shirt from a

         hanger.  Reese slips the shirt on quietly and does a fast

         crab-walk across the aisles to melt into the other racks

         and shadows, CAMERA MOVING LOW with him.



                                                CUT TO:





 13      INT. DEPARTMENT STORE/AISLE - NIGHT                    13



         With a shocking GROWL the police dog hurtles out of the

         shadows, LEAPING RIGHT AT CAMERA.



         ANGLE - REESE AND DOG, a dark blur with teeth, extremely

         Doberman, flies toward Reese.  He spins.  Catches it by

         the throat in mid-air. Arcs it to the floor with unflinching

         precision.



         C.U. - DOBERMAN, suddenly on its back and held by the throat,

         THE DOG YELPS and stares at Reese, who leans very close.

         Inches from its eyes he fixes it with a gaze of uncompromis-

         ing dominance.  Some ancient communication seems to pass

         between the two.



         Reese releases the animal and turns his back on it, selecting

         a long overcoat from a rack.  The dog backs away from him,

         stiff-legged and confused.



                                                CUT TO:





 14      INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - NIGHT                          14



         TRACKING WITH REESE as he rounds a corner on the run, still

         shrugging into his long coat.

         Running smack at him is another cop, gun aimed.



         Without slowing, Reese leaps toward him, twisting in mid-air

         like a cat.  The cop FIRES. Misses.  Goes down under Reese's

         tackle and they slide together on the polished floor.



         Before they even come to rest Reese snatches the cop's gun,

         aiming it at the other's face two-handed.



                                 REESE

                       What day is it?  The date...



                                 COP

                       Thursday...uh...May twelfth.



                                 REESE

                            (viciously)

                       What year?



         A SHOT whines off the metal side of an escalator behind

         Reese's head.  He vaults the escalator rail, leaving the

         amazed cop lying on the floor.



         Reese bounds up the frozen steps, pocketing the .38 Police

         Special in his coat.



         Cops dash through the maze of aisles, converging at the

         escalators.



                                                CUT TO:



 15      INT. DEPARTMENT STORE/SECOND FLOOR - NIGHT             15



         WHIP PANNING WITH REESE, as he hurtles between displays.

         He stops for a moment beside a rack of shoes.  Slaps one of

         a pair of tennis shoes sole-to-sole against his bare foot.

         Too small.  Another.  Holding the shoes he runs on.



                                                CUT TO:



 16      EXT. SECOND FLOOR FIRE ESCAPE LANDING - NIGHT          16



         A door opens quietly and Reese slips out.



         CAMERA TRACKS WITH HIM as he moves like a panther along the

         narrow catwalk.  TILT DOWN to include the first LAPD cruiser

         parked at the mouth of the alley.



                                                CUT TO:



 17      EXT. ALLEY/STREET - NIGHT                              17



         Reese drops cat-like beside the unattended police car.

         Cautiously, he opens the door of the cruiser, removes the

         RIOT GUN, an Ithaca pump model, from the dash rack and slips

         it under his coat.  Cradled in a vertical position, the

         shortened weapon is virtually invisible.



         He walks out onto the street and away,  unhurriedly, an

         innocuous pedestrian soon lost in the rain.



                                                CUT TO:
岸观影时2018年10月04日22:11刚刚结束的《中国相声小品》大赛,来自天津的杨仪、杨少华父子为我们奉献了一段相声,作为今晚大赛的压轴戏。正如在相声中杨仪所说,他已经十几年不说相声了。那这些年《相




 18      EXT. STREET/NEARBY - NIGHT                             18



         Reese enters a telephone booth.  Harsh light rakes across

         his face, outlining the long scar.  He opens the directory,

         leafs through it.



         ANGLE - MACRO ON PAGE, Reese's finger slides down a column.

         Stops beside the following listings in the big metropolitan

         white pages:

         CONNOR, SARAH

         CONNOR, SARAH ANN

         CONNOR, SARAH J.



                                                DISSOLVE TO:





 19      EXT. CITY STREET - MORNING                             19



         The night's rain has given way to a typical L.A. morning

         of diffuse sunlight.



         MOVING WITH A GIRL on a MOPED as she zips through traffic.

         SARAH CONNER is 19, small and delicate-featured.  Pretty in

         a flawed, accessible way. She doesn't stop the party when

         she walks in, but you'd like to get to know her.  Her vulner-

         able quality masks a strength even she doesn't know exists.



         Sarah maneuvers nimbly, apparently in a hurry.



                                                CUT TO:





 20      EXT. BIG BOB'S RESTRAUNT - DAY                         20



         Sarah buzzes into the parking lot of Big Bob's Family

         Restaurant and chains the moped to the icon of Big Bob

         himself.  The fiberglass cherub holds up his mammoth

         hamburger in perpetual homage to whatever deity watches

         out for fat kids.

         Sarah removes a stack of college textbooks from the luggage

         carrier and tuns to go into the restaurant.



                                 SARAH

                            (to Big Bob)

                       Watch this for me, big buns.



                                                CUT TO:



 21      INT. BIG BOB'S/DINING AREA                             21



         HIGH WIDE SHOT prominently featuring a VIDEO SURVEILLANCE

         CAMERA F.G. as Sarah enters below.  She passes under another

         video eye as she crosses the main floor of the wholesomely

         appointed eatery.  Sarah goes through the swinging STAFF

         doors under a third camera.



                                                 CUT TO:





 22      INT. MANAGER'S OFFICE                                  22



         The office is closet-like, lit by the glow of several

         security monitors.  CHUCK BREEN, day manager, pimply and

         officious,watches Sarah in an overhead view of the service

         corridor.  He punches a switch and reaches for a microphone

         on a studio gooseneck.



                                                CUT TO:



 23      INT. SERVICE CORRIDOR                                  23



         Sarah glances up as Breen's voice rasps from a ceiling speaker.



                                 BREEN (V.O.)

                       Sarah?



         She answers the empty hallway.



                                 SARAH

                       Yes, Chuck?



                                 BREEN

                       Come to the office, please.



         She turns back toward the office door at the end of the

         corridor.



                                                CUT TO:





 24      MANAGER'S OFFICE                                       24



         Sarah opens the door to Breen's closet control center.



                                 SARAH

                       Mission control to Chuck,

                       come in...



                                 BREEN

                            (without looking

                            up)

                       You're late.



         Sarah is undaunted.



                                 SARAH

                       Aren't I worth waiting for?



                                 BREEN

                       Not really.  Do you think you

                       can get here on time if I put

                       you on the floor as a waitress?



                                 SARAH

                            (grinning)

                       I don't know.  I kinda had

                       my heart set on being a

                       cashier the rest of my life.



                                 BREEN

                       The pay's the same but you'll

                       make more in tips.



                                 SARAH

                       Thanks, Chuck.  I need the

                       money.  Can I still work the

                       hours around my classes?



         Breen turns to punch up a display on the restaurant's

         small accounting computer.  Sarah looks over his shoulder

         as he modifies the week's schedule.



                                 BREEN

                       Mmm.  Same schedule's okay.



                                 SARAH

                       Alright!



                                 BREEN

                            (gravely)

                       Can you handle it?



                                 SARAH

                       It's not brain surgery,

                       Chuck.



         Breen hands her an apron ceremoniously.



                                 BREEN

                       Here you go.  You're a

                       Bob's Girl now.  Nancy

                       will check you out.



                                 SARAH

                       I won't let the fat kid down.



                                                CUT TO:



 25      OMITTED                                                25





 26      INT. LOCKER ROOM - DAY                                 26



         ANGLE - TIGHT ON LOCKER DOOR as it slams shut, revealing

         Sarah transformed into a 'Bob's Girl'.

         Her hair is in a bun.

         White blouse.  Short flared skirt and apron with a bow.

         She resembles a suburbanized peasant maid looking for a

         goat to milk.



         Sarah confronts her reflection in the mirror, pondering

         its absurdity.

         She pinches her sheeks.

         Smiles vacuously.



                                 SARAH

                       Hi, I'm Sarah and I'll be

                       you waitress.

                           (pause)

                       I'm so wholesome, I could

                       puke.



                                                CUT TO:





 27      EXT. PARKING LOT - DAY                                 27



         TIGHT ON CAR SIDE WINDOW, as a figure approaches, reflected

         in the glass.  A fist punches through the window, shattering

         it.  The thief unlocks the door and gets behind the wheel.

         It's Terminator.



     &nbs
                                

                                
联系时说从“演艺圈门户网”知道的，有惊喜哦！！