38012号馆文选__Citizen Kane(公民凯恩)

Citizen Kane 　　 By 　　Herman J. Mankiewicz 　　& 　　Orson Welles 　　 　　Typed / Donated by 　　John Powers 　　 Jon Reifler 　　(Continued) 　　 　　THE CAPTAIN 　　(to the waiter) 　　Get her another highball. 　　 　　THE WAITER 　　Another double? 　　 　　THE CAPTAIN 　　(after a moment, pityingly) 　　Yes. 　　 　　They walk to the door. 　　 　　 THOMPSON 　　 Shes plastered, isnt she? 　　 　　 THE CAPTAIN 　　 Shell snap out of it.Why, until he 　　 died, shed just as soon talk about 　　 Mr. Kane as about anybody.Sooner. 　　 　　 THOMPSON 　　 Ill come down in a week or so and 　　 see her again.Say, you might be able 　　 to help me.When she used to talk 　　 about Kane - did she ever happen to say 　　 anything - about Rosebud? 　　 　　 THE CAPTAIN 　　 Rosebud? 　　 　　Thompson has just handed him a bill.The Captain pockets it. 　　 　　 THE CAPTAIN 　　 Thank you, sir.As a matter of fact, 　　 yesterday afternoon, when it was in 　　 all the papers - I asked her.She 　　 never heard of Rosebud. 　　 　　FADE OUT: 　　 　　FADE IN: 　　 　　INT. THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY - 1940 　　 　　An excruciatingly noble interpretation of Mr. Thatcher himself executed in expensive marble.He is shown seated on one of those improbable Edwin Booth chairs and is looking down, his stone eyes fixed on the camera. 　　 　　We move down off of this, showing the impressive pedestal on which the monument is founded.The words, "Walter Parks Thatcher" are prominently and elegantly engraved thereon.Immediately below the incription we encounter, in a medium shot, the person of Bertha Anderson, an elderly, manish spinnster, seated behind her desk.Thompson, his hat in his hand, is standing before her.Bertha is on the phone. 　　 　　 BERTHA 　　 (into phone) 　　 Yes.Ill take him in now. 　　 (hangs up and looks at 　　 Thompson) 　　 The directors of the Thatcher Library 　　 have asked me to remind you again of 　　 the condition under which you may 　　 inspect certain portions of Mr. 　　 Thatchers unpublished memoirs.Under 　　 no circumstances are direct quotations 　　 from his manucript to be used by you. 　　 　　 THOMPSON 　　 Thats all right. 　　 　　 BERTHA 　　 You may come with me. 　　 　　Without watching whether he is following her or not, she rises and starts towards a distant and imposingly framed door.Thompson, with a bit of a sigh, follows. 　　 　　 DISSOLVE OUT: 　　 　　DISSOLVE IN: 　　 　　INT. THE VAULT ROOM - THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY - 1940 　　 　　A room with all the warmth and charm of Napoleans tomb. 　　 　　As we dissolve in, the door opens in and we see past Thompsons shoulders the length of the room.Everything very plain, very much made out of marble and very gloomy.Illumination from a skylight above adds to the general air of expensive and classical despair.The floor is marble, and there is a gigantic, mahogany table in the center of everything.Beyond this is to be seen, sunk in the marble wall at the far end of the room, the safe from which a guard, in a khaki uniform, with a revolver holster at his hip, is extracting the journal of Walter P. Thatcher.He brings it to Bertha as if he were the guardian of a bullion shipment.During this, Bertha has been speaking. 　　 　　 BERTHA 　　 (to the guard) 　　 Pages eighty-three to one hundred 　　 and forty-two, Jennings. 　　 　　 GUARD 　　 Yes, Miss Anderson. 　　 　　 BERTHA 　　 (to Thompson) 　　 You will confine yourself, it is our 　　 understanding, to the chapter dealing 　　 with Mr. Kane. 　　 　　 THOMPSON 　　 Thats all Im interested in. 　　 　　The guard has, by this time, delivered the precious journal.Bertha places it reverently on the table before Thompson. 　　 　　 BERTHA 　　 You will be required to leave this 　　 room at four-thirty promptly. 　　 　　She leaves.Thompson starts to light a cigarette.The guard shakes his head.With a sigh, Thompson bends over to read the manucript.Camera moves down over his shoulder onto page of manucript. 　　 　　Manucript, neatly and precisely written: 　　 　　"CHARLES FOSTER KANE 　　 　　WHEN THESE LINES APPEAR IN PRINT, FIFTY YEARS AFTER MY DEATH, I AM CONFIDENT THAT THE WHOLE WORLD WILL AGREE WITH MY OPINION OF CHARLES FOSTER KANE, ASSUMING THAT HE IS NOT THEN COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN, WHICH I REGARD AS EXTREMELY LIKELY.A GOOD DEAL OF NONSENSE HAS APPEARED ABOUT MY FIRST MEETING WITH KANE, WHEN HE WAS SIX YEARS OLD...THE FACTS ARE SIMPLE.IN THE WINTER OF 1870..." 　　 　　The camera has not held on the entire page.It has been following the words with the same action that the eye does the reading.On the last words, the white page of the paper 　　 　　DISSOLVES INTO: 　　 　　EXT. MRS. KANES BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870 　　 　　The white of a great field of snow, seen from the angle of a parlor window. 　　 　　In the same position of the last word in above Insert, appears the tiny figure of Charles Foster Kane, aged five (almost like an animated cartoon).He is in the act of throwing a snowball at the camera.It sails toward us and over our heads, out of scene. 　　 　　Reverse angle - on the house featuring a large sign reading: 　　 　　MRS. KANES BOARDINGHOUSE 　　HIGH CLASS MEALS AND LODGING 　　INQUIRE WITHIN 　　 　　Charles Kanes snowball hits the sign. 　　 　　INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANES BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870 　　 　　Camera is angling through the window, but the window-frame is not cut into scene.We see only the field of snow again, same angle as in previous scene.Charles is manufacturing another snowball.Now - 　　 　　Camera pulls back, the frame of the window appearing, and we are inside the parlor of the boardinghouse.Mrs. Kane, aged about 28, is looking out towards her son.Just as we take her in she speaks: 　　 　　 MRS. KANE 　　 (calling out) 　　 Be careful, Charles! 　　 　　 THATCHERS VOICE 　　 Mrs. Kane - 　　 　　 MRS. KANE 　　 (calling out the window 　　 almost on top of this) 　　 Pull your muffler around your neck, 　　 Charles - 　　 　　But Charles, deliriously happy in the snow, is oblivious to this and is running away.Mrs. Kane turns into camera and we see her face - a strong face, worn and kind. 　　 　　 THATCHERS VOICE 　　 I think well have to tell him now - 　　 　　Camera now pulls back further, showing Thatcher standing before a table on which is his stove-pipe hat and an imposing multiplicity of official-looking documents.He is 26 and, as might be expected, a very stuffy young man, already very expensive and conservative looking, even in Colorado. 　　 　　 MRS. KANE 　　 Ill sign those papers - 　　 　　 KANE SR. 　　 You people seem to forget that Im 　　 the boys father. 　　 　　At the sound of Kane Sr.s voice, both have turned to him and the camera pulls back still further, taking him in. 　　 　　Kane Sr., who is the assistant curator in a livery stable, has been groomed as elegantly as is likely for this meeting ever since daybreak. 　　 　　From outside the window can be heard faintly the wild and cheerful cries of the boy, blissfully cavorting in the snow. 　　 　　 MRS. KANE 　　 Its going to be done exactly the 　　 way Ive told Mr. Thatcher - 　　 　　 KANE SR. 　　 If I want to, I can go to court. 　　 A father has a right to - 　　 　　 THATCHER 　　 (annoyed) 　　 Mr. Kane, the certificates that Mr. 　　 Graves left here are made out to Mrs. 　　 Kane, in her name.Hers to do with 　　 as she pleases - 　　 　　 KANE SR. 　　 Well, I dont hold with signing my 　　 boy away to any bank as guardian 　　 just because - 　　 　　 MRS. KANE 　　 (quietly) 　　 I want you to stop all this nonsense, 　　 Jim. 　　 　　 THATCHER 　　 The Banks decision in all matters 　　 concerning his education, his place of 　　 residence and similar subjects will be 　　 final. 　　 (clears his throat) 　　 　　 KANE SR. 　　 The idea of a bank being the guardian - 　　 　　Mrs. Kane has met his eye.Her triumph over him finds expression in his failure to finish his sentence. 　　 　　 MRS. KANE 　　 (even more quietly) 　　 I want you to stop all this nonsense, 　　 Jim. 　　 　　 THATCHER 　　 We will assume full management of the 　　 Colorado Lode - of which you, Mrs. Kane, 　　 are the sole owner. 　　 　　Kane Sr. opens his mouth once or twice, as if to say something, but chokes down his opinion. 　　 　　 MRS. KANE 　　 (has been reading past 　　 Thatchers shoulder as he 　　 talked) 　　 Where do I sign, Mr. Thatcher? 　　 　　 THATCHER 　　 Right here, Mrs. Kane. 　　 　　 KANE SR. 　　 (sulkily) 　　 Dont say I didnt warn you. 　　 　　Mrs. Kane lifts the quill pen. 　　 　　 KANE SR. 　　 Mary, Im asking you for the last 　　 time - anyond think I hadnt been 　　 a good husband and a - 　　 　　Mrs. Kane looks at him slowly.He stops his speech. 　　 　　 THATCHER 　　 The sum of fifty thousand dollars a 　　 year is to be paid to yourself and 　　 Mr. Kane as long as you both live, 　　 and thereafter the survivor - 　　 　　Mrs. Kane puts pen to the paper and signs. 　　 　　 KANE SR. 　　 Well, lets hope its all for the best. 　　 　　 MRS. KANE 　　 It is.Go on, Mr. Thatcher - 　　 　　Mrs. Kane, listening to Thatcher, of course has had her other ear bent in the direction of the boys voice.Thatcher is aware both of the boys voice, which is counter to his own, and of Mrs. Kanes divided attention.As he pauses, Kane Sr. genteelly walks over to close the window. 　　 　　EXT. MRS. KANES BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870 　　 　　Kane Jr., seen from Kane Sr.s position at the window.He is advancing on the snowman, snowballs in his hands, dropping to one knee the better to confound his adversary. 　　 　　 KANE 　　 If the rebels want a fight boys, 　　 lets give it to em! 　　 　　He throws two snowballs, missing widely, and gets up and advances another five feet before getting on his knees again. 　　 　　 KANE 　　 The terms are underconditional 　　 surrender.Up and at em!The 　　 Union forever! 　　 　　INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANES BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870 　　 　　Kane Sr. closes the window. 　　 　　 THATCHER 　　 (over the boys voice) 　　 Everything else - the principal as 　　 well as all monies earned - is to be 　　 administered by the bank in trust for 　　 your son, Charles Foster Kane, until 　　 his twenty-fifth birthday, at which 　　 time he is to come into complete 　　 possession. 　　 　　Mrs. Kane rises and goes to the window. 　　 　　 MRS. KANE 　　 Go on, Mr. Thatcher. 　　 　　Thatcher continues as she opens the window.His voice, as before, is heard with overtones of the boys. 　　 　　EXT. KANES BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870 　　 　　Kane Jr., seen from Mrs. Kanes position at the window.He is now within ten feet of the snowman, with one snowball left which he is holding back in his right hand. 　　 　　 KANE 　　 You cant lick Andy Jackson!Old 　　 Hickory, thats me! 　　 　　He fires his snowball, well wide of the mark and falls flat on his stomach, starting to crawl carefully toward the snowman. 　　 　　 THATCHERS VOICE 　　 Its nearly five, Mrs. Kane, dont 　　 you think Id better meet the boy - 　　 　　INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANES BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870 　　 　　Mrs. Kane at the window.Thatcher is now standing at her side. 　　 　　 MRS. KANE 　　 Ive got his trunk all packed - 　　 (she chokes a little) 　　 Ive it packed for a couple of weeks - 　　 　　She cant say anymore.She starts for the hall day.Kane Sr., ill at ease, has no idea of how to comfort her. 　　 　　 THATCHER 　　 Ive arranged for a tutor to meet 　　 us in Chicago.Id have brought 　　 him along with me, but you were so 　　 anxious to keep everything secret - 　　 　　He stops as he realizes that Mrs. Kane has paid no attention to him and, having opened the door, is already well into the hall that leads to the side door of the house.He takes a look at Kane Sr., tightens his lips and follows Mrs. Kane.Kane, shoulders thrown back like one who bears defeat bravely, follows him. 　　 　　EXT. MRS. KANES BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870 　　 　　Kane, in the snow-covered field.With the snowman between him and the house, he is holding the sled in his hand, just about to make the little run that prefaces a belly-flop.The Kane house, in the background, is a dilapidated, shabby, two-story frame building, with a wooden outhouse.Kane looks up as he sees the single file procession, Mrs. Kane at its head, coming toward him. 　　 　　 KANE 　　 Hya, Mom. 　　 　　Mrs. Kane smiles. 　　 　　 KANE 　　 (gesturing at the snowman) 　　 See, Mom?I took the pipe out of 　　 his mouth.If it keeps on snowin, 　　 maybe Ill make some teeth and - 　　 　　 MRS. KANE 　　 You better come inside, son.You 　　 and I have got to get you all ready 　　 for - for - 　　 　　 THATCHER 　　 Charles, my name is Mr. Thatcher - 　　 　　 MRS. KANE 　　 This is Mr. Thatcher, Charles. 　　 　　 THATCHER 　　 How do you do, Charles? 　　 　　 KANE SR. 　　 He comes from the east. 　　 　　 KANE 　　 Hello.Hello, Pop. 　　 　　 KANE SR. 　　 Hello, Charlie! 　　 　　 MRS. KANE 　　 Mr. Thatcher is going to take you on 　　 a trip with him tonight, Charles. 　　 Youll be leaving on Number Ten.

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