GATTACA by Andrew M. Niccol - The Script Source
GATTACA by Andrew M. Niccol - The Script Source
GATTACA by Andrew M. Niccol - The Script Source
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74.<br />
JEROME<br />
(conspiratorial)<br />
Better not.<br />
(nodding in Irene's<br />
direction)<br />
Don't want to give you a<br />
contaminated specimen...if you get<br />
my meaning.<br />
IRENE plays along, shrugging coyly at the cop.<br />
We see an EXTREME CLOSE UP of Jerome's hand as he furtively<br />
retrieves a hair follicle attached to his shirt cuff. With<br />
the hair already in his fingers, he pretends to pluck a hair<br />
from his head, faking a wince at the appropriate moment.<br />
<strong>The</strong> cop, wearing transparent latex gloves, takes the follicle<br />
and places it in a receptacle in his kit. After a short<br />
moment the hair confirms JEROME's driving ID which appears on<br />
the kit's electronic screen. As the cop departs, Irene looks<br />
questioningly at Jerome.<br />
JEROME<br />
Thanks. (answering her<br />
unasked question)<br />
You never know where those swabs<br />
have been.<br />
Irene nods, however clearly not convinced. She shakes the<br />
doubt from her mind.<br />
IRENE<br />
I want to show you something.<br />
She accelerates away. We see the road ahead from Jerome's<br />
POV. Without his contact lenses, it is a blur.<br />
INT. MICHAEL'S CLUB. NIGHT.<br />
After closing time, suited DETECTIVES vacuum the club in<br />
which Jerome and Eugene dined the previous evening. MICHAEL,<br />
the owner, looks on disdainfully. Waiting in the background,<br />
the regular CLEANERS - most likely In-valids themselves -<br />
smirk to each other, enjoying watching the cops do their work<br />
for them.<br />
EXT. OCEAN HIGHWAY. NIGHT.<br />
With no place to turn the car around, IRENE parks on the<br />
cliff side of the six-lane highway.
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