Jump to: navigation, search

Scripts: Rear Window (final draft, 01/Dec/1953) - part 6

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT

    Lisa, still stretched out on the divan looking at Jeff, 
    suddenly sits upright and then getting up from the divan, 
    mover over to Jeff, THE CAMERA GOING WITH her.

    In a sudden surprise move, she swings his chair completely 
    around so that his back is to the window. He drops the 
    binoculars into his lap in surprise. THE CAMERA MOVES IN as 
    Lisa leans over Jeff, gripping both sides of his chair

                          LISA
                   (sharply)
              Jeff -- if you could only see 
              yourself.

                          JEFF
              Now, Lisa --

                          LISA
                   (Abruptly)
              Sitting around, looking out a window 
              to kill time, is one thing -- but 
              doing it the way you are -- 
                   (She gestures)
              -- with, with binoculars, and with 
              wild opinions about every little 
              movement you see -- is, is diseased!

                          JEFF
              Do you think I consider this 
              recreation?

                          LISA
              I don't know what you consider it -- 
              but if you don't stop it, I'm getting 
              out of here.

                          JEFF
              You'd better before you catch the 
              disease!

                          LISA
                   (Insistent)
              What is it you're looking for?

                          JEFF
              I want to find out what's wrong with 
              the salesman's wife. Does that make 
              me sound like a madman?

                          LISA
              What makes you think something's 
              wrong with her?

                          LISA
              A lot of things. She's an invalid 
              who needs constant care -- and yet 
              the husband nor anyone else has been 
              in there all day.

                          LISA
              Maybe she died.

                          JEFF
              Where's the doctor -- the undertakers?

                          LISA
              She could be under sedatives, 
              sleeping.
                   (Looks up)
              He's in the room now.

    Jeff tries to turn around, but she won't let the chair move.

                          JEFF
              Lisa, please!

                          LISA
              There's nothing to see.

                          JEFF
              There is -- I've seen things through 
              that window! Bickering, family fights, 
              mysterious trips at night, knives, 
              saws, rope -- and since last evening, 
              not a sight or sound of his wife! 
              Now you tell me where she is and 
              what she's doing!

                          LISA
              Maybe he's leaving his wife. I don't 
              know, and I don't care. Lots of people 
              have saws, knives and ropes around 
              their houses. Lots of men don't speak 
              to their wives all day. Lots of wives 
              nag, and men hate them, and trouble 
              starts -- but very, very, very few 
              of them end up in murder -- if that's 
              what you're thinking.

                          JEFF
              It's pretty hard to stay away from 
              that word isn't is?

                          LISA
              You could see all the things he did, 
              couldn't you?

                          JEFF
              What are you getting at?

                          LISA
              You could see that he did because he 
              had the shades in his apartment up, 
              and walked along the corridor, and 
              the streets and the backyard?

                          JEFF
              Yeah.

                          LISA
              Jeff, do you think a murderer would 
              let you see all that? That he 
              shouldn't keep his shades down and 
              hide behind them?

                          JEFF
              That's where he's being clever. Acting 
              nonchalant.

                          LISA
              And that's where you're not being 
              clever. He wouldn't parade his crime 
              in front of the open shades.

    She turns the wheelchair slightly to her left so that he can 
    see the newlyweds' apartment.

                          LISA
                   (Pointing)
              For all you know -- there's something 
              a lot more sinister going on behind 
              those shades.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT

    The drawn shades of the newlyweds' apartment. A dim light 
    burning behind them.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT

    Jeff looks, turns back to her, trying to suppress a chuckle.

                          JEFF
              No comment.

                          LISA
              Don't you see how silly you're being?

                          JEFF
              Okay, Lisa -- probably you're right. 
              He's probably in the bedroom now, 
              entertaining his wife with the indian 
              rope trick. I'll admit to criminal 
              insanity. Now when do I start the 
              cure?

    Lisa half looks up and out the window. She opens her mouth 
    to answer, but a new look overtakes her face. It is concern, 
    surprise, and a little shock. Jeff sees the change, is 
    sobered, and quickly turns the chair around.

    He looks out the window, using his binoculars.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT

    The shades in the bedroom are now up. Both beds are empty, 
    and stripped of their linen, the mattresses thrown up over 
    the end of the beds. The salesman, sweating heavily, stands 
    over a large, square trunk in the center of the room. It is 
    stoutly bound by the heavy rope we previously saw him bring 
    into the apartment. He wipes one forearm across his brow, 
    and then heads for the kitchen. In the kitchen, he produces 
    a bottle, pours himself two or three straight drinks, then 
    leans with a display of exhaustion against the kitchen sink.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT

    Jeff lowers the glasses. His look is sober. Lisa stands behind 
    him, one hand on the back of the wheelchair. She, too, is 
    serious. THE CAMERA MOVES IN until Lisa's head fills the 
    screen. She says, slowly:

                          LISA
              Let's start from the beginning again, 
              Jeff. Tell me everything you saw -- 
              and what you think it means.

    She is still staring out the window, as the scene

                                                      FADES OUT:

    FADE IN:

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT

    Jeff is seated in the dark, his face lit by the faint glow 
    from the distant street. He is looking out of the window 
    tensely, as THE CAMERA MOVES IN, until he is in big profile.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - LONG SHOT

    From Jeff's viewpoint, all the windows are dark. The couple 
    are sleeping on the fire escape. The salesman's apartment is 
    dark as well. Suddenly a match flares, and we see the salesman 
    light a cigar. The flame of the match illuminates his face 
    for a moment. When is dies out, we see just the glow of the 
    cigar burning.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP

    The CAMERA is now facing Jeff. We see that his left hand 
    rests on the telephone receiver which is close to him. The 
    phone starts to RING, but makes only the slightest sound, as 
    he instantly picks it up. As he talks, in a low voice, he 
    keeps his eyes on the salesman's apartment.

                          JEFF
              Yeah?

    INT. PHONE BOOTH - NIGHT - CLOSEUP

    We get an impression of Sixth Avenue behind Lisa at the phone. 
    Lisa also talks in a low, quiet voice.

                          LISA
              The name on the second floor rear 
              mailbox reads Mr. And Mrs. Lars, 
              that's L-A-R-S, Lars Thorwald.

                          JEFF
                   (Filter)
              What's the apartment house number?

                          LISA
              125 West Ninth Street.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP

    Jeff, still looks toward the salesman's apartment.

                          JEFF
              Thanks, Lisa.

    INT. PHONE BOOTH - NIGHT - CLOSEUP

    Lisa smilingly says:

                          LISA
              Okay, chief. What's my next 
              assignment.

                          JEFF
              To get on home.

                          LISA
              All right -- but what's he doing 
              now?

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP

    Jeff is still looking toward the salesman's apartment.

                          JEFF
              Just sitting in the living room. In 
              the dark. And he hasn't gone near 
              the bedroom. Now get some sleep. 
              Goodnight.

    He puts the receiver down, and resumes his vigil.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - LONG SHOT

    All we can see is the glow of the salesman's cigar.

                                                       FADE OUT:

    FADE IN:

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT

    Jeff is seated by the window in his wheelchair. He is talking 
    on the telephone while his eyes are still on the neighborhood. 
    There is a touch of urgency in his voice.

                          JEFF
              Look, Doyle -- it's just one of those 
              things I can't tell you on the phone. 
              You have to be here, and see the 
              whole set-up.

    The CAMERA PULLS BACK slightly as Stella emerges from the 
    kitchen. She is carrying a tray with breakfast on it. Eggs, 
    bacon, toast and coffee.

                          JEFF
              It's probably nothing important -- 
              just a little neighborhood murder, 
              that's all. As a matter of fact, I 
              did say "murder".

    Stella squeezes past the right side of Jeff, and places the 
    food tray on a windowseat in front of him. She peers out 
    cautiously toward Thorwald's apartment for a moment. Then 
    she squeezes back, moving to the sideboard against which 
    leans a small table on an adjustable stand.

                          JEFF
              My only thought was to throw a little 
              business your way. A good detective, 
              I reasoned, would jump at the chance 
              to detect.

    Stella returns with the table, and sets it up so that it is 
    across Jeff's lap. She gets the tray of food pausing to look 
    toward Thorwald's apartment. Then she places the breakfast 
    on the tray table in front of Jeff. He has moved back a little 
    to avoid getting the phone cable tangled in the food and 
    dishes.

                          JEFF
              Well, I usually took my best pictures 
              on my day off.
                   (nods)
              Okay, Doyle -- soon as you can.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP

    He hangs up. Stella takes the phone and puts it down for 
    him. He looks at the breakfast, reaches for a knife and fork.

                          JEFF
              Stella, I -- I can't tell you what a 
              welcome sight this is. No wonder 
              your husband's still in love with 
              you.

                          STELLA
              Police?

                          JEFF
                   (Pauses in cutting 
                   food)
              Huh?

                          STELLA
              You called the police?

                          JEFF
              Oh. Well, yes and no. It wasn't an 
              official call. He's just a friend.
                   (Almost to himself)
              An old, ornery friend.

    He begins eating, appreciatively. She moves behind his chair, 
    pausing to look toward Thorwald's apartment again. Jeff is 
    just lifting a piece of bacon to his lips when Stella speaks.

                          STELLA
                   (Half to herself)
              Now just where do you suppose he cut 
              her up?

    The hand carrying the bacon to Jeff's mouth hesitates for a 
    moment.

                          STELLA
                   (Answering herself)
              Oh -- of course! In the bathtub. 
              That's the only place he could wash 
              away the blood.

    The hand holding the bacon moves back to the plate.

    Jeff just stares ahead. Stella turns and walks into the 
    kitchen. Jeff pushes the food away, and picks up the coffee 
    cup instead.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP

    Jeff's eyes, over the coffee cup, are staring intently at 
    the backyard.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT

    Thorwald's apartment. The shades up. No one moving.

    The rope-tied trunk still sits in the bedroom.

    To the left we see the basket lowering with the dog in it. 
    We HEAR the woman WHISTLING an aria.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP

    His eyes stray in an upward direction as he puts down the 
    coffee cup.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT

    The CAMERA PANS UP past the woman lowering the dog, up to 
    the roof where one of the sunbathers can be seen sitting up, 
    rubbing her body with sun tan oil.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP

    Jeff's eyes moves down again. Abstractedly his hand strays 
    toward the piece of bacon. He picks it up.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT

    Thorwald's apartment. We are now aware that the salesman is 
    now in his living room, lying out of sight on the sofa, 
    because the smoke from a newly lighted cigar is starting to 
    ascend toward the ceiling of his room.

    Stella's voice is heard calling out from the kitchen:

                          STELLA'S VOICE
              He'd better get that trunk out of 
              there before is starts to leak.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP

    Again the bacon stops before is reaches Jeff's mouth.

    He puts it down on the plate again, as his eyes move slightly 
    toward the left.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT

    Miss Torso, in ballet outfit, is hanging up a small wash on 
    a clothes line. It consists mostly of lingerie. She is doing 
    her inevitable leg practice at the same time.

    THE CAMERA PANS OVER SUDDENLY TO Thorwald's apartment, and 
    except for the smoke rising from the unseen sofa, there is 
    no activity.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP

    Jeff seems to be getting a bit listless, or bored, by 
    constantly watching Thorwald's apartment. His eyes sort of 
    stray around the neighborhood, and end up looking toward:

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT

    The newlywed's apartment. Shade down, business as usual.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP

    Jeff smiles affectionately, and starts to turn his eyes away; 
    but something startles him, and he looks quickly back.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT

    The shade suddenly going up in the newlywed's apartment.

    The young husband leans his hands on the windowsill, and 
    looks out. He is wearing only his pajama bottoms, because of 
    the heat, and we see that he is a well-muscled, attractive 
    young man. He looks around with some satisfaction. He turns 
    at the sound of a woman's voice behind him.

                          GIRL'S VOICE
              H-a-a-r-r-e-e...

    He turns his head, is thoughtful for a brief moment, then he 
    pulls down the shade.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP

    His smile almost becomes a private chuckle. Stella's abrupt 
    voice breaks in urgently:

                          STELLA'S VOICE
              Look! Look -- Mr. Jefferies!

    Jeff's head snaps toward the center of his window.

    Stella has appeared behind his wheelchair.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT

    Two men wearing tan coveralls are standing outside Thorwald's 
    door. One of them carries a clipboard.

    Suddenly Thorwald is seen sitting up on the living room sofa. 
    His hair is disheveled and he is unshaved. He stands up, and 
    moves toward the door.

    He opens it, and after a short exchange of dialogue, he admits 
    the two men, leaving the door open behind them.

    He leads the two man across the living room to the bedroom.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP

    Stella and Jeff watching intently. He is feeling down 
    alongside his wheelchair for his binoculars.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - BINOCULAR SHOT

    A close view shows the two man carrying the trunk across the 
    living room toward the corridor.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP

    Jeff lowers the binoculars quickly.

                          JEFF
                   (Agitated)
              I thought Doyle would get here before 
              the trunk went -- or I'd have called 
              the police.
                   (To Stella)
              Now we're going to lose it.

    Stella moves toward the door quickly. Jeff turns quickly 
    over his shoulder to watch her. She is already going up the 
    steps.

                          JEFF
              Stella, don't do anything reckless!

    As Stella goes out the door, she calls back:

                          STELLA
              I'm just going to get the name of 
              their truck!

                          JEFF
                   (Up)
              I'll watch the alleyway -- in case 
              it goes that way.

    We hear nothing from Stella, but the sound of her heavy tread 
    down the hallway stairs. Jeff returns to Thorwald. He eases 
    himself back into the shadows a bit and then raises his 
    binoculars.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - BINOCULAR SHOT

    Jeff concentrates his attention on the alley-way that leads 
    to the street. Just normal traffic. The binoculars swing to 
    Thorwald apartment. The salesman is now at the telephone. He 
    has picked up the receiver, and proceeds to dial 221.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP

    The binoculars still up to Jeff's face. Under them his mouth 
    moves, as if he's talking to himself.

                          JEFF
              Long Distance.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - BINOCULAR SHOT

    The salesman speaks some words to the operator. Placing the 
    call. As he does this, he reaches with his other hand for a 
    nearly bottle, and working the cork out with one hand, he 
    pours a stiff drink into a tumbler. He drinks it as soon as 
    he finishes talking with the operator.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP

    Jeff lowers the binoculars a little, and takes a normal eye 
    sight on the alleyway.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - LONG SHOT

    Pulling across to the far side of the street we see the hood 
    and cab of a freight truck.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP

    Jeff quickly puts the glasses up.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - BINOCULAR SHOT

    By the time the binoculars are up, another truck has crossed 
    from the left. In momentarily blocks out the side of our 
    freight truck. By the time the two trucks part, we can only 
    see the back half of the freight truck before it pulls out 
    of sight. Jeff is only able to read the words "FREIGHT LINES". 
    The binoculars are held for a moment until we see a puffing 
    and blowing Stella arrive at the opening of the alleyway. 
    She looks toward the front of Thorwald's apartment house.

    And by her attitude we can see that there is no truck outside. 
    She looks about her for a moment.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP

    Jeff lowers the binoculars, discouraged.

    EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - LONG SHOT

    The figure of Stella is seen, looking up toward Jeff's 
    apartment, and arms outspread in a helpless gesture.

                                                LAP DISSOLVE TO:

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT

    SHOOTING TOWARDS the big window, with the neighborhood beyond, 
    Jeff is as usual seated in his wheelchair on the left of the 
    window, but now turned toward a newcomer.

    The second man is standing near the divan looking out the 
    window with the binoculars. This newcomer is POLICE DETECTIVE 
    LIEUTENANT THOMAS J. DOYLE, the man Jeff phoned earlier in 
    the day. He is an intelligent-appearing, well-dressed modern 
    detective. He has a sense of humor. He lowers the glasses, 
    and turns to Jeff.

                          DOYLE
              You didn't see the killing, or the 
              body? How do you know there was a 
              murder?

                          JEFF
              Because everything that man's done 
              has been suspicious. Trips at night 
              in the rain, saws, knives, trunks 
              with rope, and a wife that isn't 
              there any more.

                          DOYLE
              I'll admit it all has a mysterious 
              sound -- but is could mean a number 
              of different things. Murder is the 
              least likely.

                          JEFF
              Go ahead, Doyle -- tell me he's an 
              unemployed magician -- amusing the 
              neighborhood with sleight-of-hand.

    Doyle paces a little.

                          DOYLE
              It's too stupid and obvious a way to 
              murder -- in full view of fifty 
              windows -- and then sit over there --
                   (He points)
              -- smoking a cigar -- waiting for 
              the police to pick him up.

                          JEFF
              Well, officer -- do your duty.

                          DOYLE
              You've got a lot to lean about 
              homicide, Jeff. Morons have committed 
              murder so shrewdly that it took a 
              hundred trained police minds to catch 
              them. That salesman wouldn't just 
              knock off his wife after dinner, 
              toss her in a trunk and put her in 
              storage.

                          JEFF
              I'll bet it's been done.

                          DOYLE
              Almost everything's been done -- 
              under panic. But this is a thousand 
              to one shot. That man's still sitting 
              around his apartment; he isn't 
              panicked.

                          JEFF
                   (A pause)
              You think I made all this up?

                          DOYLE
              I think you saw something -- that 
              probably has a very simple 
              explanation.

                          JEFF
              For instance?

                          DOYLE
                   (Shrugs)
              His wife took a trip.

                          JEFF
              She -- was -- an -- invalid!

                          DOYLE
              You told me.
                   (Looks at watch)
              I've got to run, Jeff.

                          JEFF
              All right -- you don't believe me.

    Doyle saunters toward steps, picking up his hat on the way. 
    Stops.

                          DOYLE
              I -- uh -- won't report it to the 
              Department. Let me poke into a little 
              on my own. No point in you getting 
              any ridiculous publicity.

                          JEFF
                   (Coldly)
              Thanks.

                          DOYLE
              We know the wife is gone. I'll see 
              if I can find out where.

                          JEFF
              Do that.

    He goes up the steps to the door, putting on his hat.

    He pauses his hand on the door knob.

                          DOYLE
              You have any headaches lately?

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP

    Jeff answers, showing only the slightest irritation.

                          JEFF
              Not 'til you showed up.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP

    Doyle, still at the door:

                          DOYLE
              Uh-huh. Well, it'll wear off in time -- 
              along with the hallucinations. See 
              you around.

    He starts to go out the door, and closes it behind him.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT

    From Doyle's viewpoint. Jeff lifts his hand in a feeble 
    parting gesture.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP

    Before the door has completely closed, Doyle opens it again, 
    and looks in.

                          DOYLE
              By the way  what happened to your 
              leg?

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP

                          JEFF
              I was jaywalking.

                          DOYLE'S VOICE (O.S.)
              Where?

                          JEFF
                   (With nonchalance)
              The Indianapolis Speedway.

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP

    The door starts to close again, as if Doyle considered Jeff's 
    answer quite reasonable. Then the door pops open and Doyle's 
    head comes in, a surprised expression across his face.

                          DOYLE
              During the race?

    INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP

    Jeff answers with a straight face.

                          JEFF
              Yup. It sure stopped traffic.

    We don't see Doyle again, but only HEAR the sharp slam of 
    the DOOR off. Jeff chuckles. Then he turns back to the window.


...continue to part 7