2008年2月14日星期四

Se7en

  



  被基督教认为是遭永劫的七种恶罪。Seven在宗教上是个神秘的数字。上帝用七天造亚当,取出亚当的第七根肋骨造了夏娃。撒旦的原身是有七个头的火龙《启示录》第十二章第三节写道:“有一条大红龙,七头,也戴着冠冕……火龙就是那古蛇,名叫魔鬼,又叫撒旦,是迷惑普天下的……”,撒旦也是地狱中最大的魔王,共有七名堕落天使被称为撒旦,其中最有名的莫过于路西弗 (Lurifer),《失乐园》记述的其实就是路西弗,其余六名被称为撒旦魔王的堕落天使是:何撒兹勒 (Azazel,电影《驱魔人》中提及的恶魔。) 、别西人(Beelzubub)、彼列 (Beliel)、亚巴顿 (Abadon)、莫斯提马 (Mastema)、萨麦尔 (Samael)。到十六世纪后,基督教更直接用撒旦的七个恶魔的形象来代表七种罪恶(七宗罪 the seven deadly sins):饕餮(Gluttony)淫欲(Lust)贪婪(Greed)愤怒(Wrath)嫉妒(Envy),懒惰(Sloth),以及傲慢(Pride)。

  七宗罪之中以饕餮为最轻,以傲慢为最重。饕餮和淫欲为肉身之罪,而贪婪、懒惰、愤怒、嫉妒以至傲慢均为心罪。肉身之罪可偿,而心罪却难偿。不用怀疑,你也有罪。


我有罪,不致死






Gluttony (饕餮是因为轻易)

  它是传说中贪吃的恶兽,吃了天吞了地最后连它自己都不放过.象欲望一样,它是肉体罪恶之一。

  饕餮者不用嘴,每个细胞都哭泣着同来摄入。最深的饕餮都藏在黑夜里,一天中最无需进食的时刻,只因欲望进食的时刻,生之空间豁开口子,遗下饕餮者在此不得进入,遗下他脂油堆积的身体、肥厚回绕的肠、如果行走将层层抖动的面部肉褶、每一份褶皱都充分撑开的胃、以及肿胀如注水猪肉的大脚。脂油写的字黯黄在黑夜内,欲望膨胀的时刻,贪图食物的刻尔勃路斯狂吠的时刻,只有食物才能止住这鬼魂的地狱号哭,只有欲望才能解释清白的食物如何变成上帝厌弃子民的污点。城市重新入夜,我重新变成饕餮者,罪行最轻,我便犯下最多。




Greed (贪婪是因为无知)

  恶魔撒旦送给人类最得意的礼物,贪婪这种罪,往往容颜出尘,却伤人于销魂,最好的例子就是美或幸福。但丁的观点,贪婪是"过度热衷于寻求金钱上或权力上的优越"。

  只许割肉,不许流血。No more and no less.月光下黄金晃眼,不曾被如此精确计量。神承诺他们将入地狱,但不曾承诺他们死。在骆驼穿过针眼之前,吝啬鬼、挥霍犯、倒挂良心的骗子、剪径强盗与贪婪者没有太明显的分界。我如何能精确掌握我命该财富之度,我手伸出索取,在哪一天,哪一秒,沾上哪个无辜者的鲜血,我将获得通往地狱第四层的通行证?我神为何给我欲望,而不许我肆意膨胀?何谓肆意,何谓神灵?那一天,在黑与白之间,在无数深深浅浅的灰之间,我在走向地狱的道路上,偏移了一点。——相信我,我也曾经像你一样,被赋予洁白欲望。




Sloth (懒惰是因为无求)

  圣经说:“懒惰使人沉睡;懈怠的人,必受饥饿。”如果要休息的话,就要休息直到死为止。但丁的神学观念认为懒惰是‘未能全心爱上帝,未能全副精神爱上帝,未能全人之心灵爱上帝’-具体来说包括懒惰、怯懦、缺乏想像力、满足及无责任心。

  对懒惰者,死亡大约是怠于呼吸的形式。天黑是来不及亮,天亮是懒得再黑。在我身上碾过一年如同一日。瘦削脱形,肌肉陷入两颊,不过是时间爬痕。我在此不动弹而万物自己流逝,即便流逝我仍不动弹。不向世界注入什么,亦不取出,懒惰是与世无争,原是与世界和平相处的方式。我无所求,如此时间可能凝滞爬行,拖泥带水,减缓分秒。我放慢脚步,在自己的节奏里,走到罪恶那一头。原是你们定义,我没求过贯恶,也没求过无辜。




Lust (淫欲是因为没有光)

  亚当与夏娃受被撒旦附身的蛇的引诱,偷吃了上帝明令禁吃的知识树上的果子。这个果子就是淫欲。这是人类有史以来最古老赚钱的艺术,AIDS就是它带来的礼物。据说世界上最快乐的生活就是:过上等生活,付中等劳动,享下等情欲。

  消耗、贩卖、蔓延、囤积、吞噬,动作对象包括毒品、性病、肉体与黑暗。男和女,在黑暗之前惟剩男和女而已,我的恐惧、弱小、不得填补的欲望,统统开闸泄出,借着黑暗,暴出丑陋性器,在没有光的世界,我才能成为片刻主宰。我贩卖什么,得到什么,自己也不得而知,一切都藉着黑暗进行。那些粗重鼻息喘如猪狗,统统都没有脸。肉体耗损之前,孳生无限可能,在弹丸之地,我创作出堪比我神创世的快乐,神明不忍目睹,背过身去,在没有光的地方,掠夺般席卷快感,直达地狱。




Pride (傲慢是因为卑小)

  傲慢是七宗罪之首其中的含义在于:我们不知人生的局限而要篡夺为神把持的创造权,所以先祖被赶出乐园,所以来自尘土的终究要归为尘土。然而,明知向死而生的大空无,却还是有人妄然地背上谮越之名,只是为了撼动现实的一根寒毛――这便是弱到极致所生的力量了,虽然还是无可奈何。

  薄脆充满泡沫的骄傲,一刀毙命,就能看见发臭腐烂的自卑。除此之外,“She couldn't bear to go on living.” 若不是自卑在深处发出腐烂的芽,爬满不见天日的蛆,卑小死去成为动力十足的腐殖,骄傲如何开花。骄傲者都害怕足底,烂泥纠缠,腐朽曾经。你仲裁者,你伟大的,你外衣下披着的,难道从没有过一个小字麽?世界这么大,我护身立命的,唯有我的骄傲而已。让我骄傲,否则我选择去死。你仲裁者,你伟大的,这结局你应该满意。




Envy (嫉妒是因为尚爱)

  等一切阴谋曝光你就会看到它的真面目。堕天使背叛神的原因,有一个说法是嫉妒而非骄傲。神先创造了天使,之后又以土块创造人类,然而神宠爱人类甚于天使,把人类放置在高于天使的地位上。堕落天使不满能力低劣的人类较受宠爱,而群起反叛。




Wrath (愤怒是因为伤害)

  圣经说:“暴怒的人,必受刑罚,你若救他,必须再救。” 暴怒是单细胞动物最得意的演出,深刻的灵魂最最忌讳的死角。复仇或否定他人,在律法所赋与的权力以外,行使惩罚他人的意欲亦被归作暴怒。




SIN

十二岁,你已告诉过我,不可妄呼天主的名,原罪从来就有。

4 条评论:

Bige M 说...

  
神曲里七宗罪的顺序


但丁在神曲里根据恶行的严重性顺序排列七宗罪,其次序为:

一)好色-不合法礼的性欲,例如通奸。(但丁的标准是‘过份爱慕对方’,而这样便会贬低了神对人们的爱)

二)贪食-浪费食物,或是过度放纵食欲、酗酒或屯积过量的食物。(但丁的观点是‘过份贪图逸乐’)

三)贪婪-希望占有比所需更多为之贪婪。(或是以但丁的观点,贪婪是‘过度热衷于寻求金钱上或权力上的优越’)

四)懒惰-懒惰及浪费时间。(懒惰被宣告为有罪是因为: 其他人需更努力工作以填补缺失,因应该的事情还没有做好,对自己是百害而无一利)
均衡:一方比另一方付出更多。(从但丁的神学观念上去看,懒惰是‘未能全心爱上帝,未能全副精神爱上帝,未能全人之心灵爱上帝’-具体来说包括懒惰、怯懦、缺乏想像力、满足及无责任心)

五)愤怒-源自憎恨而起的不适当(邪恶的)感觉,复仇或否定他人,在律法所赋与的权力以外,行使惩罚他人的意欲亦被归作愤怒。(但丁描述为"love of justice perverted to revenge and spite")

六)妒忌-因对方所拥有的资产比自己丰富而心怀怨怒。(但丁说:‘Love of one's own good perverted to a desire to deprive other men of theirs’)

七)骄傲-期望他人注视自己或过度爱好自己。(因拥有而感到比其他人优越)(holding self out of proper position toward God or fellows; Dante's definition was "love of self perverted to hatred and contempt for one's neighbor")

Bige M 说...

  

《七宗罪》的特点

  这部出色的惊险悬疑影片对犯罪心理学也作了详尽的描述,而罪犯通过圣经的道德审判来杀人,更具社会意义。一个警察最后却成为凶手计划的执行者,这是对社会和人生的讽刺,是对茫茫之中天主那七大信条的不可抗拒,还是象征了这多罪该罚的人世间的混乱的生活秩序?正象影片结束时斯班瑟说的那句话“海明威说:这个世界如此美好,值得人们为它奋斗。我只同意后半句。

  在电影里,七罪、七罚、七次下雨、故事发生在七天,甚至结局也由罪犯定在第七天的下午七时,无处不在的“7”暗示观众:它是宿命的罪与罚。既然如此,宿命的悲剧是必定要属于人间的,“上帝”作为“授意者”和“观望者”,参与了整个事件。冷血杀手作为传道者莅临人间,最终以身殉道。从某种角度看,悲剧中没有正邪的区分,作为渺小的人类,只能接受宿命的审判。


《七宗罪》的内容

《七宗罪》向人们呈现了一个变态的宗教杀手。芬奇无意用血淋淋的感官刺激和大量的追逐场景来达到使人恐怖的效果。他并非对杀戮场面进行简单的电影图解,而意在揭示这种杀戮后后面的东西。这部电影塑了与以往电影中截然不同的一类杀手。《七宗罪》中的杀手杀人并非是因为嗜血,而是有着强大的理论信条加上妄念来实施他自以为的通过"审判"和布道来拯救的目的。这才是最可怕的。这个杀手也许平时连一只鸡都不忍杀害,但是他找到了依据来实施对人的毛骨悚然的谋杀。这种恐怖并非是亲眼看到某种可怕场面时感官的自然反应,而是心理上的恐怖。这使得《七宗罪》这部看起来像是侦探片或类型化恐怖片的电影脱离了这些窠臼,而与美国社会现实生活建立起了心理上的联系。

  一个不正常的社会是造就这类杀手的根本原因,导演戴维·芬彻借凶手之口在电影的最后表达了他的看法。现实生活中美国持续不断发生的连环变态杀手事件在电影中不断地有所反映和体现。然而,现实中以完全相同的手段进行残害的杀手虽然还没有发现,但却有很多在精神气质和思想观念上和他十分接近的人,让我们想想世界各地近年来出现的邪教组织和连环杀手:太阳圣殿教、奥姆真理教、吉姆·琼斯、邮包连环杀手大卫·卡钦斯基……最终都是以悲剧收场。

  《七宗罪》展现给人们的是人性中最黑暗的一面。尽管它是虚构的,可是它的气息已经进入了现实的思绪和情感之中。正像片中老侦探说:"如果我们抓住了 John Doe (杀手),而他本人就是魔鬼和撒旦的话,那也许是我们所期望的。但他不是魔鬼,他只是一个人……"有什么能比一个人做魔鬼的行径更为恐怖的吗?但更为恐怖的是,杀手的动机是以宗教为名义的。在杀手的彻底疯狂里似乎还有某种理智,这是最恐怖的事情。这部电影并非是关于杀戮,并非是关于一个人如何干出魔鬼般的行径的,而是关于那种杀戮的动机,以及这个动机的由来和它背后所隐藏的东西。


《七宗罪》的情节

  剧情阴暗、主题悲观、手法低调的警匪片,却因为剧本结构的新奇、演员表现的优异以及导演别具一格的叙事风格而变成了一部叫好又叫座的作品。故事发生在一个整天下雨的不知名城市,萨默赛特是一名即将退休的老刑警(摩根•弗里曼饰),他打算安稳地度过退休前的最后一周,而米尔斯(布拉德•皮特饰)则是满怀抱负来这里上任的新人。他们碰到了一连串离奇的凶杀案,凶手约翰•杜(凯文•斯帕西饰)故意在现场留下代表人类七种罪恶的文字,跟警方大玩心理战。在七宗罪仍未完结的情况下,凶手出人意料地前来自首。然而,他的布局仍在继续着……
  
  让观众希望活着的人在结局死掉,这永远是让你的电影被人们记住的有效手段之一。于是,年轻警察米尔斯的妻子翠西(温格妮丝•帕特洛饰)死了。事实上导演并没有让我们看到翠西被凶手割下来的头,可是我们都明白,处于极度悲愤下的米尔斯一定会开枪打死凶手。这是一个智慧、坚忍、疯狂的罪犯,罪犯最终完成了他罪恶的艺术品,最后两种原罪——罪犯自己死于嫉妒,而米尔斯也将因为愤怒受到应有的惩罚。


《七宗罪》的罪犯

  贪吃,淫荡,贪婪,懒惰,高傲,嫉妒,愤怒——这就是七宗原罪。影片中的罪犯在前半段一直没有露面,但是他作案的手法确实已经让所有的人感到震惊。他可以强迫一个人吃到胃涨裂和内出血;他可以花一年的时间精心"养育"他的受害人;为了完美的犯罪过程,他把自己手指头的皮肤剥去,以免日后留下指纹……犯罪的全部过程都在这个罪犯的掌握之下,一步一步,我们在罪犯的带领下,欣赏着他引以为豪的艺术品。七种原罪在世间横行,我们已经见怪不怪了。其实它才是最大的恶魔,而我们的凶手只是一个执行者。每天都有人因为贪婪而死,因为嫉妒而死,因为愤怒而死……我们的天才导演大卫芬奇也许就是想告诉我们:在这个物欲横流的世界上,太多的人已经迷失了自己。就连那个身为警察的米尔斯,最后也因为爱妻被害而失去理智,开枪杀死了罪犯。事实上,这也是我们自身无法控制、无法抵抗的。这个完美强大的罪犯,已经把这些寓意都展现给我们了。


《七宗罪》的警察

  这是两个典型的警察形象:年轻的警察米尔斯血气方刚、冲动易怒;老警察萨默赛特沉着稳重,机智耐心。他们之间从抵触,到理解,再到互相关爱,属于一条温馨的线索。年轻的布拉德皮特就像一只冲动的小野兽,自傲自信,不容许别人怀疑他。他有着美好的愿望,于是他和美丽的妻子来到了这个危险的地方。老警察摩根弗里曼是一个经验老到的长者,他关爱年轻人就像爱护自己的孩子。我很高兴得看着这两个人一起研究案情的样子,就像是父亲带着儿子一起走向成功的终点。他们本身的正义感驱使他们发挥出所有的能力。于是他们可以在第一次合作时就这样默契。人与人之间的感情,越是在这种关键的时刻,越是可以完美的发挥出来。


《七宗罪》的演员

  我不知道为什么大卫芬奇会选择凯文•斯帕西扮演罪犯的角色,但是我知道这个决定真的是太明智了.凯文的表演充分展现了这个杀手的一切:冷静,睿智,彬彬有礼,偏执……当他微笑着对布拉德•皮特说:"你们一直在找我……"我觉得我看到了上帝.他是那样的胜券在握,来自首明显是出于自愿,以至于每个人都知道最精彩的肯定在后头.在审讯室里他还是那样的坦然自若,装着红茶的小口袋被他拿在手里玩来玩去.然后,最精彩的就是他在汽车里的那段对话了.他平静的看着远方,令人震惊的理论就这样坦然的说了出来.和他相比之下,其它两位男演员的表演也毫不逊色,性感迷人的布拉德皮特扮演的年轻警察一定会让所有的女观众着迷,血气方刚的脸上是抹不去的希望.一句"I am all over ready"带着讽刺的语气说出来,于是这个人物的特征就这样在你的记忆里再也挥之不去.相比之下,摩根•弗里曼的沉默让人充分体会到金子的感觉,而他偶尔说出的一句话,或者睿智,或者威严,或者幽默,已经让人深刻地体会到了这个角色的内在要求.


《七宗罪》的导演

大卫芬奇无疑是一个天才,这样的一部电影拍在我们面前,除了为他鼓掌,为他流泪,真的没有什么别的可做了.这个题材的成功和演员的到位我就不想多说了.值得注意的是它的每一个细节都是把握的那样完美.刚刚搬家过来,所以需要磨合,所以家里会体验到地铁的恐怖,所以凶手可以在家里找到他的妻子并杀害.我原以为拍电影很容易,现在才知道这和做饭一样,泡方便面叫做饭,满汉全席也叫做饭,究竟你是什么样的厨师,看看你作的饭就知道了。


《七宗罪》的角色

傲慢之罪为路西华(Lucifer),贪欲为玛蒙(Mammon),好色为阿斯蒙蒂斯(Asmodeus),愤怒为撒旦(Satan),暴食为贝鲁赛巴布 (Beelzebul),懒惰为贝利亚(Berial),而利卫旦(Leviathan)为嫉妒之罪。(对于七宗罪所指的人物说法不一,以上只是其中的一种。)

圣经中说:“暴怒的人,必受刑罚,你若救他,必须再救。”

圣经上说:“懒惰使人沉睡;懈怠的人,必受饥饿。”

真正让这个名词普及的恐怕要数被评论为:电影史上最成功、最具有代表性的心理惊悚片之一的电影《七宗罪》,它是一部具有浓厚哲学意味的电影,用杀戮所进行的道德惩戒对社会和人生进行讽刺。


《七宗罪》的档案

导演 : 大卫·芬奇
主演 : 摩根·弗里曼 布拉德·皮特 格温妮丝·帕特洛 凯文·斯帕西
类型:惊悚 / 剧情 / 悬念 / 犯罪
上映时间 : 1995年9月22日
播放时间 : 127分钟
国家:美国
语言:英语
色彩:彩色


《七宗罪》的荣誉

电影史上最成功的心理惊悚片
一幕让人发狂的人生戏剧
一部具有浓厚哲学意味的警世录

·一九九七年英国帝国电影奖最佳电影,最佳男主角
·一九九六年美国科幻电影最佳制作,最佳编剧
·一九九六年美国芝加哥电影评论协会年度最佳摄影
·一九九五年金球奖最佳电影“剧情类”及最佳剧本奖
·一九九五年柏林电影节金熊奖

·九十年代最具悬念的影片之一

自从《沉默的羔羊》推出而叫好叫座之后,从哲学角度探讨变态狂人犯罪心理成为一些新派推理谋杀片的创作重点,布拉德·皮特与摩根·弗里曼主演的本片用一种控诉式的姿态来质疑现在这个犯了天主教“七大罪”的美国社会,令人看完影片之后感到心情十分沉重。首先出现的是一个大胖子在脏乱的家中因“暴食”而死,他的头埋在一盘意大利面中。接着,一名律师在办公室中被割肉而死,凶手在地毯上用鲜血写下“贪婪”一词,仿佛牧师在向世人传道。这两件变态的凶杀案相连起来之后,萨默赛特推断这不是单纯的谋杀事件,而是有目的、有计划的连续杀人案。后来更进一步指出凶手是按天主教经典中指出的人类七大罪:“暴食”、“贪婪”、“懒惰”、“淫欲”、“骄傲”、“嫉妒”、“愤怒”来进行谋杀,于是到图书馆阅读但丁《神曲》等探讨人间与地狱的文学经典来找寻破案线索,对文学一窍不通的米尔斯也不得不一步一步起地开始阅读《文学经典导读》。无论在凶案设计和破案方法上,本片都特别强调文学和哲学的重要性,且用“思考”来取代“动作”在警匪片中的主导地位。


《七宗罪》的特色

要在电影中表现哲学思想是一件很困难的事。以前听老师在课堂上讲,电影乃是最具体的艺术(最抽象的艺术是音乐),它最适合作的事情是telling story,而不是讲道理,或表达意义。象《十诫》这类电影的成功,完全有赖于现实生活中本来就具有让理解观众其中哲学的条件。要是电影不借助用这些哲学源出的某种世界做背景,实现这一点就更加困难了。原因同上:类似阴阳五行、十诫、玄道、轮回、生死等带宗教的哲学是很抽象的东西,而电影是具体的。人们很难用具体表达抽象。

然而《七宗罪》恰好利用观众对玄学的神秘感和不理解,剑出偏锋的讲一个连环谋杀的故事。

在电影里,七罪、七罚、七次下雨、故事发生在七天,甚至结局也由罪犯定在第七天的下午七时,无处不在的“7”暗示观众:它是宿命的罪与罚。既然如此,宿命的悲剧是必定要属于人间的,“上帝”作为“授意者”和“观望者”,参与了整个事件。冷血杀手作为传道者莅临人间,最终以身殉道。从某种角度看,悲剧中没有正邪的区分,作为渺小的人类,只能接受宿命的审判。

这里的上帝,是旧约中的“主”。《旧约》中“主”的形象,和《新约》中圣子耶稣的形象是完全不同的。“主”是万能的,只告诉人们去做,而并不解释为什么:比如他告诉亚当和夏娃:不可吃那苹果,但是决不对他们说原因。他还讲求复仇(以牙还牙,以眼还眼)和惩罚(主灭了罪恶的所多玛城)。而耶稣则是传道者,他更多的讲求宽恕(他放过了叛徒犹大)。

分开来看七宗罪的罪行,每一宗并不构成死罪(上帝只告诉我们,犯下这七宗罪者,必下地狱,强调的是死后而非现世的惩罚)。所以电影中由杀手施行的七罚,仔细分析,也是很遵守规则的:他并不直接动手杀人。胖子被迫食用过多撑破血管而死,律师割下自己的肉(one pound of flesh, no more and no less),毒贩(Sloth)在被发现时,一息尚存;妓女是直接被嫖客所杀;模特(Pride)只被割下鼻子,因为她太过骄傲,不肯打电话报警,所以流血而死。杀手自称犯下Envy的罪行,Envy本身是不够成罪行的,只有当他因此杀害了无辜者(米尔斯的妻子),才成为米尔斯狂怒(Wrath)的报复对象。

照这样的思路,杀手完全是照“主”的指引匡正人世。其实,这里有一个圈套。圣经十诫中说,“不可妄呼上主你天主的名。”就是说,圣主只有一个,凡人不能假借他的名字传道。只要抓准了这一条,凶手的立场就完全不成立,“宿命论”也就烟消云散。萨默赛特其实已经找到了这个漏洞。在第七天(放晴的星期日),三人在汽车上的对话。萨默赛特说:“那么你所行的是上帝的善事?”杀手非常聪明,说:“上帝的做法是奥秘的。”根本不从正面回答。

再来看老干探在图书馆中所查书目,但丁的神曲,乔叟的《坎特伯雷故事集》,还有天主教字典,除开最后一本,前面两本都是想象力的产物。为什么他查的不是圣经,而是“人”的著作,文学作品?——因为只有人,才能创造出天国与地狱的形象,才有“历尽七层洗尽死罪,以致人间天堂”的说法!这时候再想想律师的死法为什么要套用莎士比亚的《威尼斯商人》?


完整演职员表

导演
大卫·芬奇

演员
布拉德·皮特 Detective David Mills
摩根·弗里曼 Detective Lt. William Somerset
凯文·斯帕西 John Doe
李·艾尔米 Police Captain
格温妮丝·帕特洛 Tracy Mills
查尔斯·达顿 Cop (uncredited)
约翰·迈克格雷 California
Andrew Kevin Walker Dead Man
Dominique Jennings TV News Reporter
Julie Araskog Mrs. Gould
Richmond Arquette Delivery Man
Lexie Bigham Sweating Cop at Massage Parlour
Ron Blair Cop at Massage Parlour
马克·布恩 Greasy FBI Man
Gene Borkan Eli Gould (Sin of Greed)
Beverly Burke TV Anchor Woman
约翰·卡斯尼 Officer Davis
Reg E. Cathey Coroner
George Christy Workman
Bob Collins Library Guard
David Correia Cop at Massage Parlour
Peter Crombie Dr. O'Neill
William Davidson Library Guard
James Deeth Helicopter Pilot
Mario Di Donato Fingerprint Forensic Man
Paul Eckstein Paramedic
Brian Evers Duty Sergeant
Alfonso Freeman Fingerprint Technician
Duffy Gaver Marksman in Helicopter
Jimmy Dale Hartsell Library Janitor
Endre Hules Cab Driver
Hawthorne James George, Library Night Guard
Allan Kolman Forensic Man
Lennie Loftin Policeman
Bob Mack Gluttony Victim
Michael Reid MacKay Victor (Sin of Sloth)
Michael Massee Man in Massage Parlour Booth
Evan Miranda Paramedic
Cat Mueller Hooker (Sin of Lust)
利兰·欧塞尔 Crazed Man in Massage Parlour
Richard Portnow Dr. Beardsley
Sarah Hale Reinhardt Police Sketch Artist
理查德·朗德利 Dist. Atty. Martin Talbot
John Santin Helicopter Pilot
Harris Savides 911 Operator
Rachel Schadt Additional 911 Operator
海迪·萨卡斯 Beautiful Woman (Sin of Pride)
理查德·斯切夫 Mark Swarr (John Doe's Lawyer)
Martin Serene Wild Bill
Tudor Sherrard Coupon Man
Robert J. Stephenson Cop on SWAT Team
Charline Su TV News Reporter
Charles A. Tamburro SWAT Helicopter Pilot
Pamala Tyson Homeless Woman
Emily Wagner Detective Sara
Harrison White Cop on SWAT Team
Shannon Wilcox Cop Behind Desk
Daniel Zacapa Detective Taylor
编剧Andrew Kevin Walker (written by)
制片人Stephen Brown co-producer
Phyllis Carlyle producer
William C. Gerrity line producer: additional photography
Nana Greenwald co-producer
Lynn Harris co-executive producer
Dan Kolsrud executive producer
Anne Kopelson executive producer
Arnold Kopelson producer
Gianni Nunnari executive producer
Sanford Panitch co-producer
Michele Platt associate producer
Richard Saperstein co-executive producer
原创音乐大卫·博韦 (song "The Heart's Filthy Lesson")
Brian Eno (song "The Heart's Filthy Lesson")
Howard Shore
Trent Reznor (uncredited)
改编音乐Johann Sebastian Bach (from "Bach's Suite No 3 in D-major, BWV 1068: Air")
摄像师Darius Khondji
Harris Savides (additional photography)
电影剪辑Richard Francis-Bruce
协调剧组人员Kerry Barden
Billy Hopkins
Suzanne Smith
造型设计Arthur Max
艺术指导Gary Wissner
布景师Clay A. Griffith
服装设计Michael Kaplan
化妆师Rob Bottin special makeup effects
Jean Ann Black makeup supervisor
Michael Hancock makeup artist: Mr. Freeman
Becky Ochoa hair design: Rob Bottin production crew
Margaret Prentice makeup artist: Rob Bottin production crew
Monty Westmore makeup artist
Michael White supervising makeup artist
制片主管Robert S. Mendelsohn unit production manager
Allan Wertheim unit production manager
Ted Zachary executive in charge of production
助理导演Scott Harris key second assistant director: additional photography
Leonard Bram additional second assistant director
Frank Davis second assistant director
George Fortmuller key second assistant director: additional photography
Michael Alan Kahn first assistant director
Nilo Otero first assistant director
Craig A. Pinckes second second assistant director
Dodi Lee Rubenstein second second assistant director
Rebecca Strickland second second assistant director: additional photography
David Ticotin additional second assistant director
Tyrone S. Walker dga trainee
美术Dan Pemberton construction coordinator: additional photography
Shawn Albro painter/decorator
Alan Alvarado propmaker
Edward R. Alvarado laborer
Erich Baumann draper
Bruce Bellamy swing gang
Barry Bernson propmaker
Earl F. Betts propmaker gang boss
Kelly Birrer labor foreman
John Bistagne propmaker
David A. Bonino labor toolroom keeper
Robert Bonino construction coordinator
James E. Bowen Jr. swing gang
Raull Butcher propmaker
Barry Chusid assistant art director
Daren Cornell painter/decorator
Ed Cornell painter/decorator
Mike Cunningham prop assistant
William Davidson construction foreman
Joanne Davis painter/decorator
Daren Dochterman illustrator
James Donohue laborer
Thomas Early propmaker
Robert Flores laborer
Earl Forkrud propmaker
Gerald Gates Jr. paint foreman
Stuart Gates laborer
Brian J. Geary construction foreman
Chris Gibbin lead man
Joseph Gilmore propmaker
Armand Gonzalez laborer
Gregory Hamlin propmaker
Sean Hargreaves illustrator
Caleb William Harris propmaker
George Harris propmaker
Jay C. Harris propmaker
Dale Hart propmaker
Russel Harvey painter/decorator
Phillip A. Henry propmaker
Van Jewell painter/decorator gang boss
Eli Jiminez labor hod
Nicholas C. John stand-by painter
Maureen Kropf assistant paint foreman
Joseph J. Lagoia propmaker
Elizabeth Lapp set designer
Thomas W. Lay Jr. illustrator
Devlin Lenew propmaker
Charles 'Chuck' Lungren painter decorator gang boss
Rafael López painter/decorator
Jon Maaso painter/decorator
Sasha Madzar propmaker
John Hammer Maxwell on-set dresser
Kevin McCown propmaker
Monte McCrae painter decorator
Todd McKibben construction foreman
Michael Mikita Jr. painter/decorator gang boss
Michael Mikita painter decorator gang boss
Roy 'Bucky' Moore property master
Leopold Mouneau Jr. laborer
Lou Mouneu Sr. plasterer
Michael S. O'Neal propmaker gang boss
Chris Pascuzzo swing gang
Ernest Quintero plasterer
Elizabeth Ragali set decorating buyer
Roxanne Reaver construction estimator
Donald Redoglia propmaker gang boss
Roger Reese propmaker
D. Rey Reid labor foreman
Jacques Rey storyboard artist
Davis Reyes propmaker
Vincent Reynaud art director: additional photography
David Rodriguez plasterer
Robert Rodriguez laborer
Thayne Scott Roes laborer
Brana Rosenfeld assistant set decorator
Jesse Rosenfeld laborer
Richard Ross propmaker
Virgil Ross labor toolroom keeper
Lori Rowbotham set designer
Alad Safdeye laborer
Thomas Sahli labor foreman
Dale Saiger propmaker gang boss
Michael Sanchez plaster foreman
Sal Sanchez plasterer
Antonio Santelli painter/decorator gang boss
Hugo Santiago set designer
Robert Schmeck laborer
Jay Schmidt painter decorator
Bill Scholl laborer
Eric Sherman painter/decorator gang boss
Mitchell Simmons painter/decorator gang boss
Tim Stadler painter/decorator
George Stewart propmaker
Nicholas Stewart propmaker
Heinz Strunk propmaker
Michael Sullivan propmaker
Patrick Tatopoulos illustrator
Alex Temme propmaker
Mitchell Thompson laborer
Joe Valentino propmaker gang boss
Ernest Vales graffiti artist
Laszlo Veszpeller propmaker
William Warner painter/decorator
Robbie Watts propmaker
Richard Wheeler propmaker
Denny White propmaker
Greg Wilkinson swing gang
Edward Wouters construction foreman
Don Yaklin propmaker
Todd Young assistant construction coordinator
音效Elliot Tyson sound re-recording mixer
Steve Boeddeker assistant sound effects editor
David Behle sound recordist
Willie D. Burton production sound mixer
Sean Callery assistant sound effects editor
Rick Canelli adr recordist
Yin Cantor assistant sound supervisor
Joan E. Chapman adr editor
Kim B. Christensen sound effects editor
Francesca Dodd dialogue editor
Patrick Dodd supervising sound editor
Richard Duarte foley mixer
Sarah Felpes apprentice sound effects editor
Malcolm Fife foley editor supervisor
Chris Halstead apprentice sound effects editor
Robert W. Harris utility sound technician
Rick Hart sound re-recording mixer
Nancy Jencks assistant sound effects editor
Jack Keller sound recordist
Ren Klyce sound effects supervisor
Erik R. Kraber assistant dialogue editor
Jeffrey Kroeber assistant sound effects editor
John Kurlander music scoring mixer
Mark Levinson adr editor
Marvin E. Lewis boom operator
Robert J. Litt sound re-recording mixer
Jeremy Molod foley mixer
Marnie Moore foley artist
John Nutt dialogue editor
Thomas J. O'Connell adr mixer
Margie O'Malley foley artist
Richard Quinn sound conforming editor
Donald C. Rogers technical director of sound (uncredited)
Angie Rubin music editor
Ellen Segal music editor
Jennifer L. Ware sound effects editor
Jeff Watts adr editor
特技师Peter Albiez special effects coordinator
Anthony Allen Barlow key artist
Joel P. Blanchard special effects foreman
Jack Bricker key artist
Danny Cangemi special effects supervisor
Eva Marie Denst key artist
William B. Doane special effects
Eric Dresser special effects
Fernando Favila special effects producer: Rob Bottin production crew
Jim Feldman conceptual artist: Rob Bottin production crew
Thomas Floutz painter: Rob Bottin production crew
Linda Frobos key artist
Anette Haellmigk special effects photographer: Rob Bottin production crew
Moto Hata sculptor: Rob Bottin production crew
Whitey Krumm special effects
Robin McDonald key artist
Ryan Peterson key artist
Robert Phillips special effects
Art Pimentel model/moldmaker: Rob Bottin production crew
Lambert Powell special effects
Richard Ratliff special effects
Sam Sainz key artist
Dawn M. Severdia project coordinator: Rob Bottin production crew
Dave Smith key artist
Greg Solomon key artist
Todd Weslow key artist
视觉特效师Steven T Puri visual effects producer
Judith Bell digital artist (uncredited)
Findlay Bunting special image engineer
Peter Frankfurt visual effects producer
Brian Hanable digital compositor (trailer)
Greg Kimble visual effects supervisor
Tim Thompson visual effects coordinator
特技演员Dennis C. Alpert precision driver coordinator: additional photography
LaFaye Baker stunts
Sandy Berumen stunts
Janet Brady stunts
鲍勃·鲍文 stunts
Cindy Daniels stunts
Tim A. Davison stunts
Kenny Endoso stunts
Andree Gibbs stunts
Randy Hall stunts
凯恩·霍德尔 stunts
Henry Kingi stunts
Johnny Martin stunts
Alan Oliney stunts
Chuck Picerni Jr. stunts
Steve Picerni stunts
Gary Price stunts
Pat Romano stunts
Philip Romano stunts
Scott Wilder stunt double: Brad Pitt (uncredited)
Bill Young precision driver coordinator: Bill Young's Precision Driving Team
其他职员大卫·博韦 song producer: "The Heart's Filthy Lesson"
Steven T Puri main/end title producer
Basil Grillo office staff assistant
Donald M. Morgan aerial camera operator: additional photography
Brian Eno song producer: "The Heart's Filthy Lesson"
Marsha Bozeman costumer
Bonnie Alden driver
George Alden driver
Alex Algozzino driver
Liz Amsden business affairs liaison
John L. Anderson assistant production coordinator
Ed Arneson police technical advisor: Call the Cops
Mark Arneson police technical advisor: Call the Cops
Larry J. Aube key rigging grip
Nico Bally grip
Elinor Bardach costume supervisor
Patrick Barnett double: Kevin Spacey
Alex Barnoya first aid: additional photography
Tom Barrett assistant editor
Brent Beal second assistant camera: "b" camera, additional photography
Mike Bonnaud electrician
Thomas Brader stand-in: Brad Pitt
Michael Brennan dolly grip
Gary Burritt negative cutter: Kona Cutting
Paul A. Calabria animal trainer
Dale Caldwell color timer: DeLuxe
Joseph Campise driver
Michael Charbonnet camera technician: Wescam camera, additional photography
Michael A. Chavez camera operator: "b" camera
Kim Coleman casting assistant: Los Angeles
Aisha Coley casting associate
Michael J. Coo key grip
Kyle Cooper title designer
Robert Cotnoir assistant: Howard Shore
Wendy Cox production coordinator
Ian Crockett post-production assistant
Jeff Cronenweth camera operator: additional photography
Michael Cutter office staff assistant: additional photography
Peter Davidian electrics coordinator
Brad Davis payroll accountant
Howard Davis second assistant editor
Sandy DeCrescent music contractor
Bert Dovo orchestrator
Mitch Dubin camera operator: "b" camera, additional photography
Brad Edmiston first assistant camera
Hedi El Kholti accounting assistant
Patrick L. Elmendorf driver
Toby Emmerich executive in charge of music
David Emmerichs steadicam operator
Avy Eschenasy production attorney
Bo Falck driver
Joe Fineman executive in charge of post-production
William E. Fitch best boy grip
Carol Folgate assistant editor
Chris Franco electrician
Simon Franglen computer music programmer
Peter Frankfurt main/end title producer
Kenneth Frith set production assistant
Carla Fry supervising production executive
Robert Gaskill driver
Thomas Gibson best boy grip: additional photography
Emily Glatter in-house production coordinator
Cori Glazer script supervisor
Adam Glick electrician
Jane Goldsmith script supervisor: additional photography
Shawn Goldstein electrician: additional photography
Joseph Graham rigging grip
Mark Graziano post-production supervisor
Robert Grindrod production accountant
Fred Grossman accountant: additional photography
Ronald E. Hairston craft service
Lana Hale copyright clearances: Clearvision
Conrad W. Hall camera operator: "a" camera
Paul Hargrave location manager
Jeff Hatem driver
Janice Hayen music preparation
Tony Hoffman product placement
William Hoy additional editor
Gary J. Johnson driver
Joe Johnston location assistant
Alan Kaminsky transportation coordinator: additional photography
Mark Kaufman music coordinator
Ric Keeley post-production supervisor
Michael Kelem gyrosphere operator: additional photography
Ren Klyce music consultant: David Fincher
Buzz Kramer craft service: additional photography
Laura P. Krasnow assistant editor
William Leslie grip
Mark Levinson temp mix supervisor
Bob Limon driver
John Lissauer orchestrator
Tom Loewy video engineer
Juan Lopez driver
Yvan Lucas special color consultant
James A. Lundin driver
Robert C. Lusted first assistant editor
Jose Majica chef
Ed Maloney best boy gaffer: additional photography
Flint Maloney location manager: additional photography
Larry Market driver
Pete Martinez graphic displays: Video Image
Ginny Martino business affairs liaison
J. Steven Matzinger second assistant camera: additional photography
Stan McClain camera operator: Wescam camera, additional photography
Mike McClure driver
Melodie McDaniel still photographer: John Doe's photographs
Brian McEntyre driver
Jim McEntyre driver
Michael C. McEntyre driver
Russell McEntyre transportation coordinator
John McGraham rigging grip
William T. McKane electrician
Dennis McLean rigging grip
Jennifer McNamara casting assistant: New York
Ed Medin electrician
Mark Meyers dolly grip: additional photography
Claudio Miranda gaffer: additional photography
Lindsay Mofford assistant editor
Marco Mojica sous chef
Alan Lance Myers driver
Dale Myrand steadicam operator
Stephen Nakamura video colorist (uncredited)
Maria Norman assistant: Mr. Kopelson
Anna Rita Nunnari Dell'atte office staff assistant
Jerry A. Oliveri driver
Sergio Orozco driver
Benjamin Padilla sous chef
Anthony Petrilla rigging grip
Quentin Pierre assistant: Mr. Freeman
William 'Scott' Pierson driver
J. Michael Popovich key grip: additional photography
Todd Potter provider: Mills dogs
Paul Prince second assistant camera
Paul Prokop production controller
Robert Randles music consultant
David Reale assistant editor: avid
Dewey A. Reed driver
Robert M. Rey medical consultant
Lucas Richman conductor: score
Phillip L. Rosen production attorney
Demian Rosenblatt graphic displays: Video Image
Thomas J. Ruffner second dolly grip: additional photography
David Sanchez camera loader
Dana Sano music executive
Rachel Schadt music consultant: David Fincher
Gregory J. Schmidt first assistant camera: "b" camera, additional photography
Rick Schnier location scout: additional photography
Richard Schuler location scout
Burton Sharp adr group coordinator
Duane R. Shepard Sr. double: Morgan Freeman
Peter Sorel still photographer
Keith Stearns driver
Susan Steinlauf-Pascal unit publicist
Suzanne Steptoe soup lady
Janet Stirner Ingram production secretary
Adam M. Stone set production assistant
Wayne Stone transportation captain
Christopher C. Strong gaffer
Jeffrey Ray Strong electrician
Steve Surabian driver
Paul Taglianetti graphic displays: Video Image
Charles A. Tamburro aerial coordinator: additional photography
Randy L. Thiedeman driver
Gaston Touchard driver
Lee Tucker preview technical supervisor
Raymond Van Holtan driver
Richie Varga double: Brad Pitt
Larry Velasco costumer
Randy Walker police technical advisor: Call the Cops
Julian Whatley first assistant camera: additional photography
Tom Whelpey driver
Bob White driver
Jerri Whiteman first assistant accountant
Emmett L. Willis driver
Ed Wirth driver
Monty Woodard electrician
Anthony Zahn Jr. driver
Michael Adler electrician: additional photography
Jeffrey D. Stevens first aid
Cleo Wilkins grip (uncredited)

Bige M 说...

  

《七宗罪》的特点

  这部出色的惊险悬疑影片对犯罪心理学也作了详尽的描述,而罪犯通过圣经的道德审判来杀人,更具社会意义。一个警察最后却成为凶手计划的执行者,这是对社会和人生的讽刺,是对茫茫之中天主那七大信条的不可抗拒,还是象征了这多罪该罚的人世间的混乱的生活秩序?正象影片结束时斯班瑟说的那句话“海明威说:这个世界如此美好,值得人们为它奋斗。我只同意后半句。

  在电影里,七罪、七罚、七次下雨、故事发生在七天,甚至结局也由罪犯定在第七天的下午七时,无处不在的“7”暗示观众:它是宿命的罪与罚。既然如此,宿命的悲剧是必定要属于人间的,“上帝”作为“授意者”和“观望者”,参与了整个事件。冷血杀手作为传道者莅临人间,最终以身殉道。从某种角度看,悲剧中没有正邪的区分,作为渺小的人类,只能接受宿命的审判。


《七宗罪》的内容

《七宗罪》向人们呈现了一个变态的宗教杀手。芬奇无意用血淋淋的感官刺激和大量的追逐场景来达到使人恐怖的效果。他并非对杀戮场面进行简单的电影图解,而意在揭示这种杀戮后后面的东西。这部电影塑了与以往电影中截然不同的一类杀手。《七宗罪》中的杀手杀人并非是因为嗜血,而是有着强大的理论信条加上妄念来实施他自以为的通过"审判"和布道来拯救的目的。这才是最可怕的。这个杀手也许平时连一只鸡都不忍杀害,但是他找到了依据来实施对人的毛骨悚然的谋杀。这种恐怖并非是亲眼看到某种可怕场面时感官的自然反应,而是心理上的恐怖。这使得《七宗罪》这部看起来像是侦探片或类型化恐怖片的电影脱离了这些窠臼,而与美国社会现实生活建立起了心理上的联系。

  一个不正常的社会是造就这类杀手的根本原因,导演戴维·芬彻借凶手之口在电影的最后表达了他的看法。现实生活中美国持续不断发生的连环变态杀手事件在电影中不断地有所反映和体现。然而,现实中以完全相同的手段进行残害的杀手虽然还没有发现,但却有很多在精神气质和思想观念上和他十分接近的人,让我们想想世界各地近年来出现的邪教组织和连环杀手:太阳圣殿教、奥姆真理教、吉姆·琼斯、邮包连环杀手大卫·卡钦斯基……最终都是以悲剧收场。

  《七宗罪》展现给人们的是人性中最黑暗的一面。尽管它是虚构的,可是它的气息已经进入了现实的思绪和情感之中。正像片中老侦探说:"如果我们抓住了 John Doe (杀手),而他本人就是魔鬼和撒旦的话,那也许是我们所期望的。但他不是魔鬼,他只是一个人……"有什么能比一个人做魔鬼的行径更为恐怖的吗?但更为恐怖的是,杀手的动机是以宗教为名义的。在杀手的彻底疯狂里似乎还有某种理智,这是最恐怖的事情。这部电影并非是关于杀戮,并非是关于一个人如何干出魔鬼般的行径的,而是关于那种杀戮的动机,以及这个动机的由来和它背后所隐藏的东西。


《七宗罪》的情节

  剧情阴暗、主题悲观、手法低调的警匪片,却因为剧本结构的新奇、演员表现的优异以及导演别具一格的叙事风格而变成了一部叫好又叫座的作品。故事发生在一个整天下雨的不知名城市,萨默赛特是一名即将退休的老刑警(摩根•弗里曼饰),他打算安稳地度过退休前的最后一周,而米尔斯(布拉德•皮特饰)则是满怀抱负来这里上任的新人。他们碰到了一连串离奇的凶杀案,凶手约翰•杜(凯文•斯帕西饰)故意在现场留下代表人类七种罪恶的文字,跟警方大玩心理战。在七宗罪仍未完结的情况下,凶手出人意料地前来自首。然而,他的布局仍在继续着……
  
  让观众希望活着的人在结局死掉,这永远是让你的电影被人们记住的有效手段之一。于是,年轻警察米尔斯的妻子翠西(温格妮丝•帕特洛饰)死了。事实上导演并没有让我们看到翠西被凶手割下来的头,可是我们都明白,处于极度悲愤下的米尔斯一定会开枪打死凶手。这是一个智慧、坚忍、疯狂的罪犯,罪犯最终完成了他罪恶的艺术品,最后两种原罪——罪犯自己死于嫉妒,而米尔斯也将因为愤怒受到应有的惩罚。


《七宗罪》的罪犯

  贪吃,淫荡,贪婪,懒惰,高傲,嫉妒,愤怒——这就是七宗原罪。影片中的罪犯在前半段一直没有露面,但是他作案的手法确实已经让所有的人感到震惊。他可以强迫一个人吃到胃涨裂和内出血;他可以花一年的时间精心"养育"他的受害人;为了完美的犯罪过程,他把自己手指头的皮肤剥去,以免日后留下指纹……犯罪的全部过程都在这个罪犯的掌握之下,一步一步,我们在罪犯的带领下,欣赏着他引以为豪的艺术品。七种原罪在世间横行,我们已经见怪不怪了。其实它才是最大的恶魔,而我们的凶手只是一个执行者。每天都有人因为贪婪而死,因为嫉妒而死,因为愤怒而死……我们的天才导演大卫芬奇也许就是想告诉我们:在这个物欲横流的世界上,太多的人已经迷失了自己。就连那个身为警察的米尔斯,最后也因为爱妻被害而失去理智,开枪杀死了罪犯。事实上,这也是我们自身无法控制、无法抵抗的。这个完美强大的罪犯,已经把这些寓意都展现给我们了。


《七宗罪》的警察

  这是两个典型的警察形象:年轻的警察米尔斯血气方刚、冲动易怒;老警察萨默赛特沉着稳重,机智耐心。他们之间从抵触,到理解,再到互相关爱,属于一条温馨的线索。年轻的布拉德皮特就像一只冲动的小野兽,自傲自信,不容许别人怀疑他。他有着美好的愿望,于是他和美丽的妻子来到了这个危险的地方。老警察摩根弗里曼是一个经验老到的长者,他关爱年轻人就像爱护自己的孩子。我很高兴得看着这两个人一起研究案情的样子,就像是父亲带着儿子一起走向成功的终点。他们本身的正义感驱使他们发挥出所有的能力。于是他们可以在第一次合作时就这样默契。人与人之间的感情,越是在这种关键的时刻,越是可以完美的发挥出来。


《七宗罪》的演员

  我不知道为什么大卫芬奇会选择凯文•斯帕西扮演罪犯的角色,但是我知道这个决定真的是太明智了.凯文的表演充分展现了这个杀手的一切:冷静,睿智,彬彬有礼,偏执……当他微笑着对布拉德•皮特说:"你们一直在找我……"我觉得我看到了上帝.他是那样的胜券在握,来自首明显是出于自愿,以至于每个人都知道最精彩的肯定在后头.在审讯室里他还是那样的坦然自若,装着红茶的小口袋被他拿在手里玩来玩去.然后,最精彩的就是他在汽车里的那段对话了.他平静的看着远方,令人震惊的理论就这样坦然的说了出来.和他相比之下,其它两位男演员的表演也毫不逊色,性感迷人的布拉德皮特扮演的年轻警察一定会让所有的女观众着迷,血气方刚的脸上是抹不去的希望.一句"I am all over ready"带着讽刺的语气说出来,于是这个人物的特征就这样在你的记忆里再也挥之不去.相比之下,摩根•弗里曼的沉默让人充分体会到金子的感觉,而他偶尔说出的一句话,或者睿智,或者威严,或者幽默,已经让人深刻地体会到了这个角色的内在要求.


《七宗罪》的导演

大卫芬奇无疑是一个天才,这样的一部电影拍在我们面前,除了为他鼓掌,为他流泪,真的没有什么别的可做了.这个题材的成功和演员的到位我就不想多说了.值得注意的是它的每一个细节都是把握的那样完美.刚刚搬家过来,所以需要磨合,所以家里会体验到地铁的恐怖,所以凶手可以在家里找到他的妻子并杀害.我原以为拍电影很容易,现在才知道这和做饭一样,泡方便面叫做饭,满汉全席也叫做饭,究竟你是什么样的厨师,看看你作的饭就知道了。


《七宗罪》的角色

傲慢之罪为路西华(Lucifer),贪欲为玛蒙(Mammon),好色为阿斯蒙蒂斯(Asmodeus),愤怒为撒旦(Satan),暴食为贝鲁赛巴布 (Beelzebul),懒惰为贝利亚(Berial),而利卫旦(Leviathan)为嫉妒之罪。(对于七宗罪所指的人物说法不一,以上只是其中的一种。)

圣经中说:“暴怒的人,必受刑罚,你若救他,必须再救。”

圣经上说:“懒惰使人沉睡;懈怠的人,必受饥饿。”

真正让这个名词普及的恐怕要数被评论为:电影史上最成功、最具有代表性的心理惊悚片之一的电影《七宗罪》,它是一部具有浓厚哲学意味的电影,用杀戮所进行的道德惩戒对社会和人生进行讽刺。


《七宗罪》的档案

导演 : 大卫·芬奇
主演 : 摩根·弗里曼 布拉德·皮特 格温妮丝·帕特洛 凯文·斯帕西
类型:惊悚 / 剧情 / 悬念 / 犯罪
上映时间 : 1995年9月22日
播放时间 : 127分钟
国家:美国
语言:英语
色彩:彩色


《七宗罪》的荣誉

电影史上最成功的心理惊悚片
一幕让人发狂的人生戏剧
一部具有浓厚哲学意味的警世录

·一九九七年英国帝国电影奖最佳电影,最佳男主角
·一九九六年美国科幻电影最佳制作,最佳编剧
·一九九六年美国芝加哥电影评论协会年度最佳摄影
·一九九五年金球奖最佳电影“剧情类”及最佳剧本奖
·一九九五年柏林电影节金熊奖

·九十年代最具悬念的影片之一

自从《沉默的羔羊》推出而叫好叫座之后,从哲学角度探讨变态狂人犯罪心理成为一些新派推理谋杀片的创作重点,布拉德·皮特与摩根·弗里曼主演的本片用一种控诉式的姿态来质疑现在这个犯了天主教“七大罪”的美国社会,令人看完影片之后感到心情十分沉重。首先出现的是一个大胖子在脏乱的家中因“暴食”而死,他的头埋在一盘意大利面中。接着,一名律师在办公室中被割肉而死,凶手在地毯上用鲜血写下“贪婪”一词,仿佛牧师在向世人传道。这两件变态的凶杀案相连起来之后,萨默赛特推断这不是单纯的谋杀事件,而是有目的、有计划的连续杀人案。后来更进一步指出凶手是按天主教经典中指出的人类七大罪:“暴食”、“贪婪”、“懒惰”、“淫欲”、“骄傲”、“嫉妒”、“愤怒”来进行谋杀,于是到图书馆阅读但丁《神曲》等探讨人间与地狱的文学经典来找寻破案线索,对文学一窍不通的米尔斯也不得不一步一步起地开始阅读《文学经典导读》。无论在凶案设计和破案方法上,本片都特别强调文学和哲学的重要性,且用“思考”来取代“动作”在警匪片中的主导地位。


《七宗罪》的特色

要在电影中表现哲学思想是一件很困难的事。以前听老师在课堂上讲,电影乃是最具体的艺术(最抽象的艺术是音乐),它最适合作的事情是telling story,而不是讲道理,或表达意义。象《十诫》这类电影的成功,完全有赖于现实生活中本来就具有让理解观众其中哲学的条件。要是电影不借助用这些哲学源出的某种世界做背景,实现这一点就更加困难了。原因同上:类似阴阳五行、十诫、玄道、轮回、生死等带宗教的哲学是很抽象的东西,而电影是具体的。人们很难用具体表达抽象。

然而《七宗罪》恰好利用观众对玄学的神秘感和不理解,剑出偏锋的讲一个连环谋杀的故事。

在电影里,七罪、七罚、七次下雨、故事发生在七天,甚至结局也由罪犯定在第七天的下午七时,无处不在的“7”暗示观众:它是宿命的罪与罚。既然如此,宿命的悲剧是必定要属于人间的,“上帝”作为“授意者”和“观望者”,参与了整个事件。冷血杀手作为传道者莅临人间,最终以身殉道。从某种角度看,悲剧中没有正邪的区分,作为渺小的人类,只能接受宿命的审判。

这里的上帝,是旧约中的“主”。《旧约》中“主”的形象,和《新约》中圣子耶稣的形象是完全不同的。“主”是万能的,只告诉人们去做,而并不解释为什么:比如他告诉亚当和夏娃:不可吃那苹果,但是决不对他们说原因。他还讲求复仇(以牙还牙,以眼还眼)和惩罚(主灭了罪恶的所多玛城)。而耶稣则是传道者,他更多的讲求宽恕(他放过了叛徒犹大)。

分开来看七宗罪的罪行,每一宗并不构成死罪(上帝只告诉我们,犯下这七宗罪者,必下地狱,强调的是死后而非现世的惩罚)。所以电影中由杀手施行的七罚,仔细分析,也是很遵守规则的:他并不直接动手杀人。胖子被迫食用过多撑破血管而死,律师割下自己的肉(one pound of flesh, no more and no less),毒贩(Sloth)在被发现时,一息尚存;妓女是直接被嫖客所杀;模特(Pride)只被割下鼻子,因为她太过骄傲,不肯打电话报警,所以流血而死。杀手自称犯下Envy的罪行,Envy本身是不够成罪行的,只有当他因此杀害了无辜者(米尔斯的妻子),才成为米尔斯狂怒(Wrath)的报复对象。

照这样的思路,杀手完全是照“主”的指引匡正人世。其实,这里有一个圈套。圣经十诫中说,“不可妄呼上主你天主的名。”就是说,圣主只有一个,凡人不能假借他的名字传道。只要抓准了这一条,凶手的立场就完全不成立,“宿命论”也就烟消云散。萨默赛特其实已经找到了这个漏洞。在第七天(放晴的星期日),三人在汽车上的对话。萨默赛特说:“那么你所行的是上帝的善事?”杀手非常聪明,说:“上帝的做法是奥秘的。”根本不从正面回答。

再来看老干探在图书馆中所查书目,但丁的神曲,乔叟的《坎特伯雷故事集》,还有天主教字典,除开最后一本,前面两本都是想象力的产物。为什么他查的不是圣经,而是“人”的著作,文学作品?——因为只有人,才能创造出天国与地狱的形象,才有“历尽七层洗尽死罪,以致人间天堂”的说法!这时候再想想律师的死法为什么要套用莎士比亚的《威尼斯商人》?


完整演职员表

导演
大卫·芬奇

演员
布拉德·皮特 Detective David Mills
摩根·弗里曼 Detective Lt. William Somerset
凯文·斯帕西 John Doe
李·艾尔米 Police Captain
格温妮丝·帕特洛 Tracy Mills
查尔斯·达顿 Cop (uncredited)
约翰·迈克格雷 California
Andrew Kevin Walker Dead Man
Dominique Jennings TV News Reporter
Julie Araskog Mrs. Gould
Richmond Arquette Delivery Man
Lexie Bigham Sweating Cop at Massage Parlour
Ron Blair Cop at Massage Parlour
马克·布恩 Greasy FBI Man
Gene Borkan Eli Gould (Sin of Greed)
Beverly Burke TV Anchor Woman
约翰·卡斯尼 Officer Davis
Reg E. Cathey Coroner
George Christy Workman
Bob Collins Library Guard
David Correia Cop at Massage Parlour
Peter Crombie Dr. O'Neill
William Davidson Library Guard
James Deeth Helicopter Pilot
Mario Di Donato Fingerprint Forensic Man
Paul Eckstein Paramedic
Brian Evers Duty Sergeant
Alfonso Freeman Fingerprint Technician
Duffy Gaver Marksman in Helicopter
Jimmy Dale Hartsell Library Janitor
Endre Hules Cab Driver
Hawthorne James George, Library Night Guard
Allan Kolman Forensic Man
Lennie Loftin Policeman
Bob Mack Gluttony Victim
Michael Reid MacKay Victor (Sin of Sloth)
Michael Massee Man in Massage Parlour Booth
Evan Miranda Paramedic
Cat Mueller Hooker (Sin of Lust)
利兰·欧塞尔 Crazed Man in Massage Parlour
Richard Portnow Dr. Beardsley
Sarah Hale Reinhardt Police Sketch Artist
理查德·朗德利 Dist. Atty. Martin Talbot
John Santin Helicopter Pilot
Harris Savides 911 Operator
Rachel Schadt Additional 911 Operator
海迪·萨卡斯 Beautiful Woman (Sin of Pride)
理查德·斯切夫 Mark Swarr (John Doe's Lawyer)
Martin Serene Wild Bill
Tudor Sherrard Coupon Man
Robert J. Stephenson Cop on SWAT Team
Charline Su TV News Reporter
Charles A. Tamburro SWAT Helicopter Pilot
Pamala Tyson Homeless Woman
Emily Wagner Detective Sara
Harrison White Cop on SWAT Team
Shannon Wilcox Cop Behind Desk
Daniel Zacapa Detective Taylor
编剧Andrew Kevin Walker (written by)
制片人Stephen Brown co-producer
Phyllis Carlyle producer
William C. Gerrity line producer: additional photography
Nana Greenwald co-producer
Lynn Harris co-executive producer
Dan Kolsrud executive producer
Anne Kopelson executive producer
Arnold Kopelson producer
Gianni Nunnari executive producer
Sanford Panitch co-producer
Michele Platt associate producer
Richard Saperstein co-executive producer
原创音乐大卫·博韦 (song "The Heart's Filthy Lesson")
Brian Eno (song "The Heart's Filthy Lesson")
Howard Shore
Trent Reznor (uncredited)
改编音乐Johann Sebastian Bach (from "Bach's Suite No 3 in D-major, BWV 1068: Air")
摄像师Darius Khondji
Harris Savides (additional photography)
电影剪辑Richard Francis-Bruce
协调剧组人员Kerry Barden
Billy Hopkins
Suzanne Smith
造型设计Arthur Max
艺术指导Gary Wissner
布景师Clay A. Griffith
服装设计Michael Kaplan
化妆师Rob Bottin special makeup effects
Jean Ann Black makeup supervisor
Michael Hancock makeup artist: Mr. Freeman
Becky Ochoa hair design: Rob Bottin production crew
Margaret Prentice makeup artist: Rob Bottin production crew
Monty Westmore makeup artist
Michael White supervising makeup artist
制片主管Robert S. Mendelsohn unit production manager
Allan Wertheim unit production manager
Ted Zachary executive in charge of production
助理导演Scott Harris key second assistant director: additional photography
Leonard Bram additional second assistant director
Frank Davis second assistant director
George Fortmuller key second assistant director: additional photography
Michael Alan Kahn first assistant director
Nilo Otero first assistant director
Craig A. Pinckes second second assistant director
Dodi Lee Rubenstein second second assistant director
Rebecca Strickland second second assistant director: additional photography
David Ticotin additional second assistant director
Tyrone S. Walker dga trainee
美术Dan Pemberton construction coordinator: additional photography
Shawn Albro painter/decorator
Alan Alvarado propmaker
Edward R. Alvarado laborer
Erich Baumann draper
Bruce Bellamy swing gang
Barry Bernson propmaker
Earl F. Betts propmaker gang boss
Kelly Birrer labor foreman
John Bistagne propmaker
David A. Bonino labor toolroom keeper
Robert Bonino construction coordinator
James E. Bowen Jr. swing gang
Raull Butcher propmaker
Barry Chusid assistant art director
Daren Cornell painter/decorator
Ed Cornell painter/decorator
Mike Cunningham prop assistant
William Davidson construction foreman
Joanne Davis painter/decorator
Daren Dochterman illustrator
James Donohue laborer
Thomas Early propmaker
Robert Flores laborer
Earl Forkrud propmaker
Gerald Gates Jr. paint foreman
Stuart Gates laborer
Brian J. Geary construction foreman
Chris Gibbin lead man
Joseph Gilmore propmaker
Armand Gonzalez laborer
Gregory Hamlin propmaker
Sean Hargreaves illustrator
Caleb William Harris propmaker
George Harris propmaker
Jay C. Harris propmaker
Dale Hart propmaker
Russel Harvey painter/decorator
Phillip A. Henry propmaker
Van Jewell painter/decorator gang boss
Eli Jiminez labor hod
Nicholas C. John stand-by painter
Maureen Kropf assistant paint foreman
Joseph J. Lagoia propmaker
Elizabeth Lapp set designer
Thomas W. Lay Jr. illustrator
Devlin Lenew propmaker
Charles 'Chuck' Lungren painter decorator gang boss
Rafael López painter/decorator
Jon Maaso painter/decorator
Sasha Madzar propmaker
John Hammer Maxwell on-set dresser
Kevin McCown propmaker
Monte McCrae painter decorator
Todd McKibben construction foreman
Michael Mikita Jr. painter/decorator gang boss
Michael Mikita painter decorator gang boss
Roy 'Bucky' Moore property master
Leopold Mouneau Jr. laborer
Lou Mouneu Sr. plasterer
Michael S. O'Neal propmaker gang boss
Chris Pascuzzo swing gang
Ernest Quintero plasterer
Elizabeth Ragali set decorating buyer
Roxanne Reaver construction estimator
Donald Redoglia propmaker gang boss
Roger Reese propmaker
D. Rey Reid labor foreman
Jacques Rey storyboard artist
Davis Reyes propmaker
Vincent Reynaud art director: additional photography
David Rodriguez plasterer
Robert Rodriguez laborer
Thayne Scott Roes laborer
Brana Rosenfeld assistant set decorator
Jesse Rosenfeld laborer
Richard Ross propmaker
Virgil Ross labor toolroom keeper
Lori Rowbotham set designer
Alad Safdeye laborer
Thomas Sahli labor foreman
Dale Saiger propmaker gang boss
Michael Sanchez plaster foreman
Sal Sanchez plasterer
Antonio Santelli painter/decorator gang boss
Hugo Santiago set designer
Robert Schmeck laborer
Jay Schmidt painter decorator
Bill Scholl laborer
Eric Sherman painter/decorator gang boss
Mitchell Simmons painter/decorator gang boss
Tim Stadler painter/decorator
George Stewart propmaker
Nicholas Stewart propmaker
Heinz Strunk propmaker
Michael Sullivan propmaker
Patrick Tatopoulos illustrator
Alex Temme propmaker
Mitchell Thompson laborer
Joe Valentino propmaker gang boss
Ernest Vales graffiti artist
Laszlo Veszpeller propmaker
William Warner painter/decorator
Robbie Watts propmaker
Richard Wheeler propmaker
Denny White propmaker
Greg Wilkinson swing gang
Edward Wouters construction foreman
Don Yaklin propmaker
Todd Young assistant construction coordinator
音效Elliot Tyson sound re-recording mixer
Steve Boeddeker assistant sound effects editor
David Behle sound recordist
Willie D. Burton production sound mixer
Sean Callery assistant sound effects editor
Rick Canelli adr recordist
Yin Cantor assistant sound supervisor
Joan E. Chapman adr editor
Kim B. Christensen sound effects editor
Francesca Dodd dialogue editor
Patrick Dodd supervising sound editor
Richard Duarte foley mixer
Sarah Felpes apprentice sound effects editor
Malcolm Fife foley editor supervisor
Chris Halstead apprentice sound effects editor
Robert W. Harris utility sound technician
Rick Hart sound re-recording mixer
Nancy Jencks assistant sound effects editor
Jack Keller sound recordist
Ren Klyce sound effects supervisor
Erik R. Kraber assistant dialogue editor
Jeffrey Kroeber assistant sound effects editor
John Kurlander music scoring mixer
Mark Levinson adr editor
Marvin E. Lewis boom operator
Robert J. Litt sound re-recording mixer
Jeremy Molod foley mixer
Marnie Moore foley artist
John Nutt dialogue editor
Thomas J. O'Connell adr mixer
Margie O'Malley foley artist
Richard Quinn sound conforming editor
Donald C. Rogers technical director of sound (uncredited)
Angie Rubin music editor
Ellen Segal music editor
Jennifer L. Ware sound effects editor
Jeff Watts adr editor
特技师Peter Albiez special effects coordinator
Anthony Allen Barlow key artist
Joel P. Blanchard special effects foreman
Jack Bricker key artist
Danny Cangemi special effects supervisor
Eva Marie Denst key artist
William B. Doane special effects
Eric Dresser special effects
Fernando Favila special effects producer: Rob Bottin production crew
Jim Feldman conceptual artist: Rob Bottin production crew
Thomas Floutz painter: Rob Bottin production crew
Linda Frobos key artist
Anette Haellmigk special effects photographer: Rob Bottin production crew
Moto Hata sculptor: Rob Bottin production crew
Whitey Krumm special effects
Robin McDonald key artist
Ryan Peterson key artist
Robert Phillips special effects
Art Pimentel model/moldmaker: Rob Bottin production crew
Lambert Powell special effects
Richard Ratliff special effects
Sam Sainz key artist
Dawn M. Severdia project coordinator: Rob Bottin production crew
Dave Smith key artist
Greg Solomon key artist
Todd Weslow key artist
视觉特效师Steven T Puri visual effects producer
Judith Bell digital artist (uncredited)
Findlay Bunting special image engineer
Peter Frankfurt visual effects producer
Brian Hanable digital compositor (trailer)
Greg Kimble visual effects supervisor
Tim Thompson visual effects coordinator
特技演员Dennis C. Alpert precision driver coordinator: additional photography
LaFaye Baker stunts
Sandy Berumen stunts
Janet Brady stunts
鲍勃·鲍文 stunts
Cindy Daniels stunts
Tim A. Davison stunts
Kenny Endoso stunts
Andree Gibbs stunts
Randy Hall stunts
凯恩·霍德尔 stunts
Henry Kingi stunts
Johnny Martin stunts
Alan Oliney stunts
Chuck Picerni Jr. stunts
Steve Picerni stunts
Gary Price stunts
Pat Romano stunts
Philip Romano stunts
Scott Wilder stunt double: Brad Pitt (uncredited)
Bill Young precision driver coordinator: Bill Young's Precision Driving Team
其他职员大卫·博韦 song producer: "The Heart's Filthy Lesson"
Steven T Puri main/end title producer
Basil Grillo office staff assistant
Donald M. Morgan aerial camera operator: additional photography
Brian Eno song producer: "The Heart's Filthy Lesson"
Marsha Bozeman costumer
Bonnie Alden driver
George Alden driver
Alex Algozzino driver
Liz Amsden business affairs liaison
John L. Anderson assistant production coordinator
Ed Arneson police technical advisor: Call the Cops
Mark Arneson police technical advisor: Call the Cops
Larry J. Aube key rigging grip
Nico Bally grip
Elinor Bardach costume supervisor
Patrick Barnett double: Kevin Spacey
Alex Barnoya first aid: additional photography
Tom Barrett assistant editor
Brent Beal second assistant camera: "b" camera, additional photography
Mike Bonnaud electrician
Thomas Brader stand-in: Brad Pitt
Michael Brennan dolly grip
Gary Burritt negative cutter: Kona Cutting
Paul A. Calabria animal trainer
Dale Caldwell color timer: DeLuxe
Joseph Campise driver
Michael Charbonnet camera technician: Wescam camera, additional photography
Michael A. Chavez camera operator: "b" camera
Kim Coleman casting assistant: Los Angeles
Aisha Coley casting associate
Michael J. Coo key grip
Kyle Cooper title designer
Robert Cotnoir assistant: Howard Shore
Wendy Cox production coordinator
Ian Crockett post-production assistant
Jeff Cronenweth camera operator: additional photography
Michael Cutter office staff assistant: additional photography
Peter Davidian electrics coordinator
Brad Davis payroll accountant
Howard Davis second assistant editor
Sandy DeCrescent music contractor
Bert Dovo orchestrator
Mitch Dubin camera operator: "b" camera, additional photography
Brad Edmiston first assistant camera
Hedi El Kholti accounting assistant
Patrick L. Elmendorf driver
Toby Emmerich executive in charge of music
David Emmerichs steadicam operator
Avy Eschenasy production attorney
Bo Falck driver
Joe Fineman executive in charge of post-production
William E. Fitch best boy grip
Carol Folgate assistant editor
Chris Franco electrician
Simon Franglen computer music programmer
Peter Frankfurt main/end title producer
Kenneth Frith set production assistant
Carla Fry supervising production executive
Robert Gaskill driver
Thomas Gibson best boy grip: additional photography
Emily Glatter in-house production coordinator
Cori Glazer script supervisor
Adam Glick electrician
Jane Goldsmith script supervisor: additional photography
Shawn Goldstein electrician: additional photography
Joseph Graham rigging grip
Mark Graziano post-production supervisor
Robert Grindrod production accountant
Fred Grossman accountant: additional photography
Ronald E. Hairston craft service
Lana Hale copyright clearances: Clearvision
Conrad W. Hall camera operator: "a" camera
Paul Hargrave location manager
Jeff Hatem driver
Janice Hayen music preparation
Tony Hoffman product placement
William Hoy additional editor
Gary J. Johnson driver
Joe Johnston location assistant
Alan Kaminsky transportation coordinator: additional photography
Mark Kaufman music coordinator
Ric Keeley post-production supervisor
Michael Kelem gyrosphere operator: additional photography
Ren Klyce music consultant: David Fincher
Buzz Kramer craft service: additional photography
Laura P. Krasnow assistant editor
William Leslie grip
Mark Levinson temp mix supervisor
Bob Limon driver
John Lissauer orchestrator
Tom Loewy video engineer
Juan Lopez driver
Yvan Lucas special color consultant
James A. Lundin driver
Robert C. Lusted first assistant editor
Jose Majica chef
Ed Maloney best boy gaffer: additional photography
Flint Maloney location manager: additional photography
Larry Market driver
Pete Martinez graphic displays: Video Image
Ginny Martino business affairs liaison
J. Steven Matzinger second assistant camera: additional photography
Stan McClain camera operator: Wescam camera, additional photography
Mike McClure driver
Melodie McDaniel still photographer: John Doe's photographs
Brian McEntyre driver
Jim McEntyre driver
Michael C. McEntyre driver
Russell McEntyre transportation coordinator
John McGraham rigging grip
William T. McKane electrician
Dennis McLean rigging grip
Jennifer McNamara casting assistant: New York
Ed Medin electrician
Mark Meyers dolly grip: additional photography
Claudio Miranda gaffer: additional photography
Lindsay Mofford assistant editor
Marco Mojica sous chef
Alan Lance Myers driver
Dale Myrand steadicam operator
Stephen Nakamura video colorist (uncredited)
Maria Norman assistant: Mr. Kopelson
Anna Rita Nunnari Dell'atte office staff assistant
Jerry A. Oliveri driver
Sergio Orozco driver
Benjamin Padilla sous chef
Anthony Petrilla rigging grip
Quentin Pierre assistant: Mr. Freeman
William 'Scott' Pierson driver
J. Michael Popovich key grip: additional photography
Todd Potter provider: Mills dogs
Paul Prince second assistant camera
Paul Prokop production controller
Robert Randles music consultant
David Reale assistant editor: avid
Dewey A. Reed driver
Robert M. Rey medical consultant
Lucas Richman conductor: score
Phillip L. Rosen production attorney
Demian Rosenblatt graphic displays: Video Image
Thomas J. Ruffner second dolly grip: additional photography
David Sanchez camera loader
Dana Sano music executive
Rachel Schadt music consultant: David Fincher
Gregory J. Schmidt first assistant camera: "b" camera, additional photography
Rick Schnier location scout: additional photography
Richard Schuler location scout
Burton Sharp adr group coordinator
Duane R. Shepard Sr. double: Morgan Freeman
Peter Sorel still photographer
Keith Stearns driver
Susan Steinlauf-Pascal unit publicist
Suzanne Steptoe soup lady
Janet Stirner Ingram production secretary
Adam M. Stone set production assistant
Wayne Stone transportation captain
Christopher C. Strong gaffer
Jeffrey Ray Strong electrician
Steve Surabian driver
Paul Taglianetti graphic displays: Video Image
Charles A. Tamburro aerial coordinator: additional photography
Randy L. Thiedeman driver
Gaston Touchard driver
Lee Tucker preview technical supervisor
Raymond Van Holtan driver
Richie Varga double: Brad Pitt
Larry Velasco costumer
Randy Walker police technical advisor: Call the Cops
Julian Whatley first assistant camera: additional photography
Tom Whelpey driver
Bob White driver
Jerri Whiteman first assistant accountant
Emmett L. Willis driver
Ed Wirth driver
Monty Woodard electrician
Anthony Zahn Jr. driver
Michael Adler electrician: additional photography
Jeffrey D. Stevens first aid
Cleo Wilkins grip (uncredited)

匿名 说...

  
      SEVEN

      by

  Andrew Kevin Walker

  January 27,1992



      The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for.

         - Ernest Hemingway
         For Whom the Bell Tolls
         1940





EXT. COUNTRY CHURCH -- DAY

The white cross on the church steeple stands against blue sky.
The church bell rings, resonating.

Mass has let out. Small church, small congregation. The dirt
road in front is lined with pick-up trucks and parishioners on
foot heading to outlying farms and homes. An old two-story
house sits across the road. Lone.

<INT. OLD HOUSE -- DAY

Sunlight comes through the soot on the windows, more brown than
bright. SOMERSET, 45, stands in one corner of this small,
second-story room. He looks over the ceiling, looks down at the
worn wooden floors, looks at the peeling wallpaper.

He walks to the center of the room, continues his study, taking
his time. He halts, turns to one wall where the current
wallpaper is torn away to reveal flowery wallpaper underneath.

Somerset goes to this wall and runs his finger across one of the
pale, red roses which decorates the older paper. He pushes the
grime away, brings the rose out more clearly.

He reaches into his suit pocket and takes out a switchblade. He
flips the thin, lethal blade free. Working deliberately,
delicately, Somerset cuts a square around the rose, then peels
the square of dry wallpaper away from the wall. He studies it in
his hand.

EXT. OLD HOUSE -- DAY

Somerset stands in front of the old home. He looks out at the
surrounding farms and forests. He ponders something. Birds
sing.

         MAN (O.S.)
      Is something wrong?

Somerset does not respond, just stares off. The MAN, 34, wears a
real-estate broker's jacket and stands beside a FOR SALE sign in
the muddy lawn.

         MAN
      Is there something the matter?

Somerset turns to face the man, then looks back at the house.

         SOMERSET
      No. No... it's just that everything here
      seems... so strange.

         MAN
      Strange? There's nothing strange about
      this place. The house'll need a little
      fixing up, that's for sure...

         SOMERSET
      No. I like the house, and this place.

         MAN
      I was about to say. Cause this place is
      about as normal as places get.

Somerset nods, taking a deep breath. He smiles.

         SOMERSET
      That's what I mean. Strange.

Somerset looks back to the beautiful landscape. The man does not
understand.

INT. AMTRACK TRAIN -- LATER DAY

Somerset is in the window seat, looking out the window of the
speeding train, smoking a cigarette. He is near the back of the
car, away from the few other passengers.

Outside, farms, fields, small homes and lawns rush by. The
panorama is dappled by the rays of the soon to be setting sun.

INT. AMTRACK TRAIN -- LATER DAY

The train is almost full, moving slower. Somerset has his
suitcase on the aisle seat beside him. He holds a hardcover book
unopened on his lap. He still stares out the window, but his
face is tense. The train is passing an ugly, swampy field. The
sun has gone under.

Though it seems impossible it ever could have gotten there, a
car's burnt-out skeleton sits rusting in the bracken.

Ahead, the city waits. The sky is full of smokestacks and huge
industrial cranes.

INT. AMTRACK TRAIN -- LATER DAY

The train is passing urban streets below. Slums and smashed
cars. People stand in groups in the corners. Bleak.

Somerset's suitcase is now on the window seat. Somerset has
moved to the aisle. He is reading his book. He looks up from
the book and rubs his eyes, then looks back to continue reading,
not once looking out the window.

EXT. CITY STREET -- NIGHT

Somerset carries his suitcase outside the train station. The
city demands attention: cars screeching, people yelling, sirens
blaring.

Somerset passes a family of bewildered tourists. A WEIRD MAN has
a hand on the tourist-father's suitcase.

It has become a tugging match with the Weird Man shouting, "I'll
take you to a taxi... I'll take you." Ahead, a group is gathered
on the sidewalk near two ambulances. People clamor to get a look
at a BLOODY BODY which lies on the street.

Policeman try to hold the crowd off. Ambulance attendants
administer aid to the victim, who convulses. Somerset moves by,
ignoring it all. He motions for a cab. One pulls up from the
street's stream of vehicles.

INT. CAB -- NIGHT

Somerset throws his suitcase in and shuts the door behind him.

         CAB DRIVER
       (about the crowd)
      What's the big fuss?

Somerset looks out at the crowd, looks at the driver.

         SOMERSET
      Why do you care?

         CAB DRIVER
       (under his breath)
      Well, excuse me all to hell.

The driver leans forward, checking it out. The circle of
spectators shifts suddenly. A man has shoved another man and
they're really going at it now. The swing at each other and tear
at each other's clothing. One man's flailing fist connects and
the other man's face is instantly bloodied. The fight grows even
more spastic. Policemen try to stop it.

         CAB DRIVER
      Crazy fucks.

The driver pulls away and the cab rages down the street.
Somerset watches the parade of neon passing on the avenue. He
slumps back in the seat and closes his eyes.

         CAB DRIVER
      Where you headed?

Somerset opens his eyes.

         SOMERSET
      Far away from here.

INT. SOMERSET'S APARTMENT -- NIGHT

The curtains are closed. The SOUNDS of the CITY are here as they
will be everywhere in this story. A CAR ALARM is SOUNDING,
shrill and clear. Somerset's life is packed into moving boxes,
except for some clothing in a closet and hundreds and hundreds of
books on the shelves of one wall. Somerset is lying on the bed,
dressed only in his underwear.

He reaches to the nightstand, to a wooden, pyramidical metronome.
He frees the metronome's weighted swingarm so it moves back and
forth. Swings to the left -- TICK, swings to the right -- TICK.
Tick... tick... tick... measured and steady.

Somerset situates on the bed, closes his eyes. Tick... tick...
tick. The metronome's sound competes with the sound of the car
alarm. Somerset's face tightens as he concentrates on the
metronome. His eyes close tighter. Tick... tick... tick. The
swingarm moves evenly. Somerset's breathing deepens.

Tick... tick... tick. The car alarm seems quieter.

Tick... tick... tick. Somerset continues his concentration. The
metronome's sound seems louder.

Tick... tick... tick. The sound of the car alarm fades, and is
GONE. The metronome is the only sound.

Somerset's face relaxes as he begins to fall asleep. Tick...
tick... tick...

INSERT -- TITLE CARD

SUNDAY

INT. SOMERSET'S APARTMENT -- MORNING

Somerset picks items off a moving box: his keys, wallet,
switchblade, gold homicide badge. Finally, he opens the
hardcover book he had with him on the train. From the pages, he
takes the pale, paper rose.

INT. TENEMENT APARTMENT -- DAY

Somerset stands before a wall which is stained by a star-burst of
blood. A body lies on the floor under a sheet. A sawed-off
shotgun lies not far from the body. The apartment is gloomy.

DETECTIVE TAYLOR, 52, stands on the other side of the room, looks
through a notepad.

         TAYLOR
      Neighbors heard them screaming at each
      other for like two hours. It was nothing
      new. But, then they heard the gun go off.
      Both barrels.

         SOMERSET
      Did the wife confess?

         TAYLOR
      When the patrolman came she was trying
      put his head back together. She was crying
      too hard to say anything.

Somerset beings walking around the apartment.

         SOMERSET
      Why always like this? Only after the
      fact... this sudden realization, that if
      you shoot someone, or stick a knife in
      them, that person will cease to exist.

         TAYLOR
      Crime of passion.

         SOMERSET
      Yes. Look at all the passion splattered up
      on the wall here.

         TAYLOR
      This is a done deal. All but the
      paperwork.

Taylor shifts his weight, impatient. Somerset looks at a
coloring book open on the coffee table. There are crayons beside
it. Somerset picks the book up, flips through the pages.

         SOMERSET
      Did their son see it happen?

         TAYLOR
      I don't know.

Taylor closes his notebook, perturbed. Somerset looks at the
pictures of cute, crudely colored animals.

         TAYLOR
      What kind of fucking question is that
      anyway?

Taylor walks over and grabs the coloring book to get his
attention.

         TAYLOR
      You know, we're all real glad we're getting
      rid of you, Somerset. You know that? I
      mean, it's always these questions with
      you... "Did the kid see it?" Well, who
      gives a fuck? Huh?
       (points)
      He's dead. His wife killed him.

Taylor throws the coloring book back to Somerset and walks.

         TAYLOR
      Anything else has nothing to do with us.

Taylor leaves, pushing past DETECTIVE DAVID MILLS, 31, who is
just entering. Mills is muscular and handsome. He looks back at
Taylor, then around the apartment, a bit disoriented.

Somerset puts down the coloring book. He stares at the floor,
showing no reaction to Taylor's tantrum.

         MILLS
      Uh, Lieutenant Somerset?

Somerset turns to see Mills.

EXT. CITY STREET -- DAY

A body bag is carried through a crowd of people outside the
tenement building.

Somerset follows the body bag out and Mills follows Somerset.
They walk towards the end of the filthy block, past a man
urinating on a car.

         MILLS
      I'm a little thrown. I just got in town
      like twenty minutes ago and they dumped me
      here.

         SOMERSET
      Since we're just starting out, I thought we
      could go to a bar... sit and talk for
      awhile. After that, we'll...

         MILLS
       (interrupting)
      Actually, if it's all the same, I'd like to
      get to the precinct house a.s.a.p. Seeing
      how we don't have much time for this whole
      transition thing.

Somerset keeps walking, says nothing.

         MILLS
      I need to start getting the feel of it all,
      right? Meet the people.

         SOMERSET
      I meant to ask you something, Mills, when
      we spoke on the phone. I can't help
      wondering... why here?

         MILLS
      I... I don't follow.

         SOMERSET
      All this effort you've made to get
      transferred, it's the first question that
      pops into my head.

         MILLS
      I'm here for the same reasons as you, I
      guess. Or, at least, the same reasons you
      used to have for being here before...
      before you decided to... quit.

Somerset stops and faces Mills.

         SOMERSET
      You just met me.

         MILLS
      Maybe I'm not understanding the question.

         SOMERSET
      It's very simple. You worked a nice, quiet
      town, but you fought to get here as if your
      life depended on it. I've just never seen
      it done that way before, Detective.

         MILLS
      Maybe I thought I could do more good here
      than there. I don't know. Look, it'd be
      great by me if we didn't start right off
      kicking each other in the balls. But,
      you're calling the shots, Lieutenant, so...
      however you want it to go.

         SOMERSET
      Let me tell you how I want this to go. I
      want you to look, and I want you to listen.

         MILLS
      I wasn't standing around guarding the local
      Taco Bell. I've worked homicide for five
      and a half years.

         SOMERSET
      Not here.

         MILLS
      I realize that.

         SOMERSET
      Well, over the next seven days, do me the
      favor of remembering it.

Somerset turns and walks away. Mills stands a moment, pissed.
He follows after Somerset.

INSERT -- TITLE CARD

MONDAY

INT. SOMERSET'S APARTMENT -- EARLY MORNING

Somerset lies asleep in bed. It is still dark outside. The
PHONE beside the inactive metronome RINGS. Somerset awakens
suddenly, startled. He looks towards the phone.

INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- EARLY MORNING

It is just barely becoming light outside. Mills is wide awake in
bed beside the sleeping form of his wife, TRACY, 30. Mills looks
tired. He listens to passing traffic. He covers his eyes with
his forearm.

He takes his arm away and sits up, frustrated, sits on the edge
of the bed. The room is a shambles, filled with moving boxes.

Light coming through the window glows upon a football trophy
sticking from one box.

Large and noble, a golden player stands in frozen motion at the
trophy's pinnacle.

Mills looks at the trophy and a fond smile forms on his face.
The PHONE RINGS. Mills looks towards it. Tracy awakens. She
looks up with half-opened eyes, a beautiful woman.

         TRACY
      What is it?

Phone rings. Mills reaches to touch Tracy's shoulder.

         MILLS
      It's okay.

Mills leans to get the phone. Tracy seems frightened.

         TRACY
      Honey... where are we?

EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING, ALLEYWAY -- EARLY MORNING

Somerset and Mills, both wearing badges, walk with OFFICER DAVIS,
a beefy, uniformed cop. They pass police cars and head into a
trash strewn alleyway. Davis hands Somerset two flashlights.

         DAVIS
      Everything's like I found it. I didn't
      touch anything.

         SOMERSET
      What time did you confirm the death?

         DAVIS
      Like I said, I didn't touch him, but he's
      had his face in a plate of spaghetti for
      about forty-five minutes now.

They reach a rusty, side door, which Davis pulls open.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING, STAIRWELL -- EARLY MORNING

They enter a dark, ugly stairwell.

         MILLS
       (to Davis)
      Hold on... you mean you didn't check for
      vital signs?

         DAVIS
      Did I stutter? Believe me, he ain't
      breathing, unless he's started breathing
      spaghetti sauce.

         MILLS
      The point is, whenever you find...

         DAVIS
      Begging your pardon, but the guy's sitting
      in pile of his own shit and piss. If he
      ain't dead, he would've stood up by now.

Mills is angry, about to speak, but Somerset heads him off.

         SOMERSET
       (to Davis)
      Thank you, officer. We'll need to talk to
      you again, after we've looked around.

         DAVIS
      Yes, sir.

Davis walks out, eyeing Mills. Mills watches him go. The rusty
door slams shut behind Davis. It's very dark. Somerset turns on
his flashlight, hands the other to Mills and starts upstairs.

         SOMERSET
      I wonder what exactly was the point of the
      conversation you were about to get into?

         MILLS
      And I wonder how many times Officer Davis
      there has found a dead man who wasn't
      really dead until Davis was in the car
      calling it in and eating a donut.

         SOMERSET
      Drop it.

         MILLS
      For now.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING, HALLWAY -- EARLY MORNING

Somerset comes from the stairwell, looking down the dark hall.
At the end of the hall, a door is open. The light of a CAMERA
FLASH spills out from that room every few seconds.

Mills and Somerset move on. Somerset takes out rubber gloves and
slips them on, looking at something on the floor ahead. A yellow
RECYCLING BIN sits just outside the door. It contains many neat,
string-bound stacks of issues of READER'S DIGEST.

INT. APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- EARLY MORNING

There are lights on in this room. Lamps with dusty shades. A
few porn mags on a table. Somerset and Mills cross. A couch
against one wall is piled with yellowed, once white pillows. It
faces two small televisions, both on with no sound.

INT. APARTMENT, KITCHEN -- EARLY MORNING

Somerset and Mills enter, using their flashlights in the dark.
Mills takes out a handkerchief, covering his nose. ERIC is
crouched on the floor, putting camera equipment away.

He's wearing a medical mask over his face. He hoists his bag and
moves past the detectives.

         ERIC
      Enjoy.

Eric leaves. Somerset sweeps the room with his flashlight...

At the stove, each burner has a used pot or pan on it. Food has
been slopped there and on the adjoining counter-top and sink.
Used utensils are everywhere, along with empty tin cans and jars.
Cockroaches swarm.

The flashlight beam follows a trail of dripped sauces, soups and
crumbs of food across the floor from the stove to a kitchen
table. The kitchen table is covered in soiled paper plates which
hold bits of half-eaten sandwiches, potatoes, beef stew, donuts
and many other junk foods.

The kitchen is tiny; barely enough room for three people. The
kitchen table is at the center of the room. An OBESE MAN is
slumped forward in a kitchen chair. He is face down dead in a
plate of spaghetti.

         MILLS
      Christ... somebody phone Guinness. I think
      we've got a World's Record here.

Mills walks to the dead man, leaning to study, without touching.

         MILLS
      Who said this was murder?

         SOMERSET
      No one yet.

         MILLS
      Then, why are we wasting our time? This
      guy's heart's got to be roughly the size of
      a canned ham. If this isn't a coronary, I
      don't know what is.

Somerset moves his flashlight beam down the obese corpse, stops
at the man's feet. Somerset kneels.

At the obese man's pants cuff, there's a tiny bit of rope
sticking out. Somerset uses a pen to lift the pants leg. Rope
is tied around the swollen, purple ankle.

         MILLS
      Or not.

Somerset stands and steps back. Mills bends to take his place,
looking under the table and shining his flashlight into the
corpse's lap. The obese man's bloated hands are folded there,
bound tightly with rope.

         MILLS
      Still... he could have tied himself up, to
      make it look like murder. I saw a guy
      once... committed suicide, but wanted to
      make sure his family could collect the life
      insurance, right?

Somerset does not listen. He is focused on the corpse, studies
the back of the man's head and neck. He runs his pen against the
back of the corpse's neck, combing the hair upwards.

There are small circular and semi-circular BRUISES on the back of
the obese man's head and neck, some hidden under the hair.

         MILLS
      When we found him, he was lying there with
      a knife in his back, so what else could it
      be but homicide? Except, I finally figured
      out... he held the knife behind him... put
      the tip of it in his own back and got real
      close to the wall... then he shoved his
      body backwards...

         SOMERSET
       (irritated)
      Please be quiet for a while, would you?

Mills looks up at Somerset from below. Somerset remains focused
on the bruises.

         MILLS
       (sarcastic)
      Oh, yes, sir. Forgive me.

Mills stands and walks around to the other side of the table,
where he gets down again.

         MILLS
      There's a bucket here.

         SOMERSET
      What?

         MILLS
      There's a bucket. Under the table.

Somerset crouches, pulls up the cheap tablecloth on his side of
the table. A METAL BUCKET sits under the table.

         SOMERSET
      What is it?

Mills slides under with his flashlight, angling in the confined
space to look. He is repulsed and pulls back.

         MILLS
      It's vomit.

Mills stands and backs away, near the refrigerator, not wanting
to be anywhere near that bucket.

         MILLS
      It's a bucket of vomit.

         SOMERSET
      Is there any blood in it?

         MILLS
      I don't know. Feel free to look for
      yourself, okay?

Somerset stands, stares at the obese man. He shakes his head,
perplexed. There is a KNOCK at the door. The detectives look to
see DOCTOR THOMAS O'NEILL, 52, the medical examiner, in the
doorway. O'Neill is looking at the ceiling. He flicks the lights
switch. No light, so he flicks the switch up and down.

         O'NEILL
      Wonderful.

O'Neill seems a bit gone. He drops his black bag onto the floor
beside the corpse. he begins to sort through the bag, surgical
tools clinking together.

Mills turns to open the refrigerator. It's nearly empty.

         MILLS
       (to Somerset)
      You think it was poison?

         SOMERSET
      Guessing at this point is useless.

The trash can beside the refrigerator is filled to the brim with
empty food containers. Mills begins to poke around with a pen.

         O'NEILL
      You girls have got forensics waiting
      outside. I don't know if we'll all fit
      though.

         MILLS
      There's room. Light's the problem.

Somerset looks at Mills, then at the space limitations.

         SOMERSET
      Still... two is company here. And, three
      is certainly a crowd.
       (pause)
      Detective Mills, go help the officers
      question the neighbors.

Mills looks up, not pleased.

         MILLS
      I'd rather stay on this.

Somerset is looking at the corpse.

         SOMERSET
      Send one of the forensics in on your way
      out.

Mills does not move. He lifts his flashlight to shine the light
on the side of Somerset's face. A moment. Somerset looks at
Mills, the light shining directly in Somerset's eyes. A longer
moment. Mills switches off the light and leaves.

O'Neill places both hands on the dead man's head and lifts the
swollen visage from the spaghetti.

         O'NEILL
      He is dead.

         SOMERSET
      Thank you, Doctor.

INT. SOMERSET'S CAR -- DAY

Somerset drives with Mills as the passenger. Heavy city traffic.
Both stare ahead in silence. Mills is a bundle of nerves.

         MILLS
      You've seen my files, right? Seen the
      things I've done?

         SOMERSET
      No.

         MILLS
       (looking out window)
      Anyway... I did my time on door-to-doors,
      and walking a beat. I did all that shit
      for a long time.

         SOMERSET
      Good.

         MILLS
      The badge in my pocket says "detective,"
      same as yours.

         SOMERSET
      I made a decision, because I have to
      consider the integrity of the scene. I
      can't worry whether you think you're
      getting enough time on the playing field.

         MILLS
      Yeah, well, all I want is...
       (pause)
      Just, just don't be jerking me off. That's
      all I ask. Don't jerk me off.

Mills looks at Somerset. Somerset keeps his eyes on the road,
but nods slightly. That said, Mills slumps low into his seat.

         SOMERSET
      We'll be spending every waking hour
      together till I leave. I'll show you who
      your friends are, and your enemies. I'll
      help you cut through the red tape and I
      will help you "integrate," as the captain
      puts it. However...
       (pauses, clears throat)
      No matter how much you beg or plead...
      jerking off is something you'll have to do
      for yourself.

This throws Mills. Somerset has a sense of humour?

         SOMERSET
      Is that clear?

         MILLS
      Okay... sure... It's just that, with my
      old partner, you know...

         SOMERSET
      I just don't think we should have that sort
      of relationship. We'd start quarreling
      over insignificant things.

Mills lets out a nervous laugh, feels a bit of weight off his
shoulders.

         MILLS
      Whatever you say, Detective. Beautiful.

INT. AUTOPSY ROOM -- DAY

The room is large, cold and clean. Stainless steel and white
tile. Many pathologists work at slabs. A bone saw screams.
Mills and Somerset are with DOCTOR SANTIAGO, who stands over the
obese corpse which is pretty well dissected already.

         SANTIAGO
      He's been dead for a long time, and I can
      tell you it was not a poison.

Santiago moves to make room for Mills to stand beside him. Mills
moves up a little, but not much, looking on in disgust. Santiago
reaches into the man's belly. We do not see.

         MILLS
      Ah, man... how does somebody let himself go
      like that? Look at the blubber.

Santiago moves something and there is a squashy sound.

         SANTIAGO
      It took four orderlies and me all together
      just to put this body on the table.

         MILLS
      How did the fat fuck ever fit out the door
      of his apartment?

         SOMERSET
      Yes, it's obvious he was a shut-in. Not an
      enviable life, but, maybe he still deserves
      a modicum of respect in spite of that.

         SANTIAGO
      Are you looking here? First... see how big
      this stomach is. And, see the strange
      thing. Stretches. And, here it is
      distended. Look at the size of that,
      because of all the foods.

         MILLS
      I can see what you're pointing at, but...

         SANTIAGO
      Lines of distention across the stomach, and
      parts have ripped open.

         SOMERSET
       (disbelief)
      Doctor, are you saying... this man ate till
      he burst?

         SANTIAGO
      Well, he didn't really burst. Not all the
      way. But, he was bleeding inside himself,
      and there is a hematoma on the outside, on
      the belly. Very large.

         MILLS
      He died by eating?

         SANTIAGO
      Yes. And, there's something else here you
      have to look at and see.

Santiago goes to root through many jars on a table. Somerset
walks around the slab, looking down at the obese man's propped
up, partially shaved head.

         SOMERSET
      These bruises on the victim's head...

More round and semi-circular bruises have been revealed, all
about the same diameter as a dime.

         SANTIAGO
      I don't know what they are yet. They...

         SOMERSET
      They could have been caused by a gun. The
      barrel of a gun... pressed against the back
      of his head.

Santiago picks up the jar he was looking for, comes to lean and
look at the obese man's head, nodding again.

         SANTIAGO
      If it was jammed against him hard enough,
      sure. It's possible. Here...

Santiago gives the jar to Somerset.

         SANTIAGO
      Most of the stomach's food contents are in
      the lab now.... but, these... I found these
      in his stomach too.

Somerset holds the jar up. Inside are many little pieces of blue
plastic. They are curled slightly, as if they are scrapings.
Somerset hands the jar to Mills. Mills shakes it, studying.

         MILLS
      Plastic?

         SANTIAGO
      Why these are in a fat man's stomach, I
      don't know.

INT. APARTMENT, KITCHEN -- DAY

The room where the obese corpse was found is now lit by
fluorescent light. Two forensics, a MALE and FEMALE, are dusting
for prints. Somerset and Mills are on their hands and knees.
Somerset holds the jar and touches the linoleum floor.

         SOMERSET
      Same color and texture.

         MILLS
       (to forensics)
      Have you found any plastic scrapings near
      the stove or sink? Near the food?

         MALE FORENSIC
      What do you mean?

Mills and Somerset continue looking around the floor.

         MILLS
       (to Somerset)
      This doesn't make any sense.

         SOMERSET
      You always have to find one singular thing
      to focus on. There's always one thing, and
      it may be as small as a speck of dust, but
      you find it and focus... till it's an
      exhausted possibility.

The forensics watch, curious. Somerset is near the refrigerator.

         MILLS
      It could be nothing.

         SOMERSET
      But, why would there be so many pieces in
      his stomach if it were nothing? It must
      have been intentional.

Somerset stops. There are deep scratches here in the linoleum.
He fingers the grooves, then takes a piece of the plastic from
the jar. He holds the piece to the floor, fiddles... fits it
into one of the scratches.

Somerset gets off the floor and looks down. These scratches are
in front of the refrigerator. it looks like they were caused by
the refrigerator having been pulled away from the wall and pushed
back into place at some time.

         SOMERSET
       (to Mills)
      Come here.

INT. APARTMENT, KITCHEN -- LATER DAY

Mills and Somerset pull the refrigerator, rocking it back and
forth away from the wall to get a clear view behind it. They
strain, pull it a few more feet, and release.

Mills leans to look at the wall behind. Shock.

         MILLS
      Holy shit.

Somerset comes to look. Behind the refrigerator, there is a
space on the wall where the dust has been wiped away. In that
space, the words: ONE IS GLUTTONY. The letters have been
smeared on in grease. A NOTE is pinned beside them.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, CAPTAIN'S OFFICE -- EARLY EVENING

The captain's office is filled with pictures, books and
mugsheets. Piles of paperwork abound, yet the office is
meticulously well kept. The CAPTAIN, 50, sits at his tidy desk.
He wears a white shirt and conservative tie.

He's a calm man, but whenever he is not speaking, without fail,
he clenches his jaw over and over, causing the muscles in his
neck and jaw to pulse. Somerset and Mills sit before him.

         SOMERSET
      The bruises were caused by the muzzle of a
      forty-five. So, there was a gun against
      his head and he was given a choice. Eat,
      or get your brains blown out.

Somerset gets up to pace.

         SOMERSET
      He ate his fill, and was forced to continue
      eating... till his body rejected the food.
      the killer held a bucket under him, and
      then kept serving. He took his time. The
      coroner says this might have gone on for
      more than twelve hours. The victim's
      throat was swollen from the effort, and
      there was probably a point where he passed
      out. That's when killer kicked him in the
      stomach. Popped him.

         MILLS
      This was one sadistic motherfucker.

         CAPTAIN
      That seems obvious.

Somerset picks up a photocopy of the NOTE from behind the fridge.

         SOMERSET
       (reads)
      "Dear Detectives, Long is the way, and
      hard, that out of hell leads up to light."
      It's the murderer's way of announcing
      himself.

         CAPTAIN
      Announcing what?

         SOMERSET
      There are seven deadly sins. Gluttony,
      wrath, greed...

         CAPTAIN
      So what? This victim...

         SOMERSET
      ... envy, sloth, pride and lust. Seven.

         CAPTAIN
      Hey, so gluttony is one of the seven deadly
      sins. But, this was a fat guy. The killer
      may have felt this was the just best way to
      torture him.
      And, writing on the walls happens all the
      time. It's like the fashionable thing to
      do.

         SOMERSET
      One is gluttony.

The captain is disgruntled, clenching his jaw, looks at Mills.

         MILLS
      This is his stuff. I've been out in the
      cold all day.

         SOMERSET
      This is a premeditated puzzle, and it's
      only the beginning.

         CAPTAIN
      Always working up there, huh, Somerset?
      Big brain's always cooking.

Somerset sits.

         SOMERSET
      I'm declining this case. I want us
      reassigned.

         MILLS
      Whoa, whoa... what?!

         CAPTAIN
      What's this: "I'm declining this case?" It
      don't work that way.

         SOMERSET
      This can't be my last duty here. It will
      go on and on.

         CAPTAIN
      I know what you're thinking, okay? You
      don't want to get in bed with this every
      night, but it's different now. You're
      retiring. In six days you're all the way
      gone.

Somerset shakes his head.

         CAPTAIN
      You've left unfinished business before.

         SOMERSET
      Everything else was taken as close to
      conclusion as humanly possible. Also...
      this shouldn't be his first assignment.

         MILLS
      This isn't my first assignment, dickhead.
      What the hell?

Mills stands, furious.

         CAPTAIN
      I don't have anyone else to give this to,
      Somerset, you know that. And nobody's
      going to swap with you.

         MILLS
      Give it to me.

         CAPTAIN
      How's that?

         MILLS
      There's nothing that says I have to work
      with him. If Somerset wants out,
      "goodbye." Give it to me.

The captain considers this.

         SOMERSET
      It's too soon for him.

         MILLS
       (to the captain)
      Can we talk about this in private?

The captain looks at Somerset, then at Mills.

         CAPTAIN
      That's not necessary. You're in.

         MILLS
      Thank you.

         CAPTAIN
      Go start picking up the pieces. We'll
      shuffle some paper and try to get you a new
      partner.

Mills looks at Somerset, then leaves, closing the door. Somerset
seems deflated, staring at the floor. He looks at the captain.

         CAPTAIN
      You win, Somerset. You're out.

INSERT -- TITLE CARD

TUESDAY

EXT. CITY STREET -- DAY

A newspaper vendor lays out a pile of tabloid newspapers at the
front of his busy newsstand.

The papers' headline is: BIZARRE MURDER!, in huge, black print.

The vendor lays out another tabloid pile. Headline: "EAT OR DIE"
SAYS GLUTTONY KILLER!!, in big, red letters.

The vendor throws down a third tabloid stack. SICKENING
MURDER -- EXCLUSIVE DETAILS INSIDE!, it reads.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY

The office is old, with a single window which faces a billboard.
TRAFFIC is HEARD from outside. There are moving boxes on the
floor. Somerset is at his desk with paperwork in two sloppy
piles. He uses a manual typewriter, filling in a yellow form.
He types hunt-and-peck, slowly. He finishes the form and pulls
it out. There is a knock at the door.

         SOMERSET
      Come in.

The captain pushes the door and stands in the doorway with a
PAINTER/WORKMAN at his side.

         CAPTAIN
      Excuse us. We have some business to take
      care of.

As always, the neatly groomed captain clenches his jaw.

Somerset lines a new form in the typewriter, starts typing.

The captain strolls in. Two boxes sit on the floor with
DETECTIVE MILLS written across them. He picks up one of the
boxes and sets it on top of the other.

At the open door, the workman takes a razor blade from his kit.
He brings it against the writing on the glass of the door:
DETECTIVE SOMERSET. The workman pushes the razor to start
scraping the name away, and the razor on glass sounds like
fingernails on a blackboard.

Somerset looks up.

         WORKMAN
      Sorry.

Somerset turns back to the typing, hunt-and-peck. The captain
watches. The workman continues.

         CAPTAIN
      Have you heard?

         SOMERSET
       (not looking up)
      No, I haven't heard.

         CAPTAIN
      There was a second.

Somerset stops, looks at the captain.

         SOMERSET
      Already.

         CAPTAIN
      Greed. It was written in blood.

Somerset thinks about this, then turns to type.

         SOMERSET
      It's none of my business anymore.

         CAPTAIN
      I thought you might want to be filled in.

         SOMERSET
      I'm sure everyone's doing their best.

         CAPTAIN
      Yeah.

         SOMERSET
      Good.

Hunt-and-peck. The captain's jowls clamp. He steps up to
Somerset's desk, begins to straighten the two piles of forms.

         CAPTAIN
      Come on. What are you going to do with
      yourself out there?

         SOMERSET
      I'll get a job, maybe on a farm. I'll work
      on the house.

         CAPTAIN
      Can't you feel it yet? Can't you feel that
      feeling... ? You're not going to be a cop
      anymore.

         SOMERSET
      What are you talking about?

         CAPTAIN
      You know.

Somerset reclines, facing the captain.

         SOMERSET
      Did you read in the paper today, about the
      man who was walking his dog? he was
      attacked, and his wallet and his watch
      were taken. And then, while he was still
      lying unconscious, his attacker stabbed him
      with a knife in both eyes. It happened
      four blocks from here.

         CAPTAIN
      I heard.

         SOMERSET
      I have no understanding of this place
      anymore.

         CAPTAIN
      It's always been like this.

         SOMERSET
      Really?

Somerset saddles up to the typewriter.

         SOMERSET
      Maybe you're right.

The captain lays the paperwork down. Both piles are now neat.

         CAPTAIN
      You do this work. You were made for it,
      and I don't think you can deny that. I
      certainly can't believe you're trading it
      in for a tool belt and a fishing rod.
       (pause, walks to leave)
      Maybe I'm wrong.

The captain leaves. Somerset looks up. He grabs the paperwork
piles and ruffles them back to their disheveled state. He looks
up at the workman.

The workman is looking at Somerset, has a rag in his hand to
remove the last remnants of Somerset's name.

         SOMERSET
       (angrily)
      Try putting a little elbow grease into it.

The workman is startled, continues his work.

INT. SOMERSET'S APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATE NIGHT

There is a dart board on one wall. THWACK -- Somerset's
switchblade hits the board and embeds.

Somerset crosses the nearly empty living room and takes the blade
from the dart board. He walks back to stand in front of the only
chair in the room. He throws the switchblade.

It embeds in the dart board. Somerset sits.

He picks a book off the floor and holds it in his lap. KIDS can
be HEARD CURSING and playing LOUD MUSIC from outside the
shuttered window. Somerset stares at the ceiling. He opens the
book and looks at the pages... stares at the pages...

He puts the book back down on the floor.

EXT. CITY STREET -- LATE NIGHT

Somerset gets out of his car. He walks down the sidewalk with a
notebook in hand. THUNDER is HEARD. He takes a cigarette out of
a full pack and lights it.

He walks along the avenue. Cars race by in the street. People
walk briskly past. At a public phone, a man shouts curses
angrily into the phone, then starts pounding the phone box with
the receiver. A fire engine passes in the street, sirens, horn
and lights going full blast.

Somerset starts up a flight of massive stone stairs, past several
sleeping vagrants. One VAGRANT sits up and looks to Somerset.

         VAGRANT
      Spare me a cigarette? Spare a cigarette?

         SOMERSET
      Sorry, last one.

Ahead of Somerset, the library looms, a solid, powerful
structure.

INT. PUBLIC LIBRARY, MAIN LIBRARY -- LATE NIGHT

Somerset and GEORGE, 62, the night guard, enter the vast space of
the deserted main library.

The lamps hanging from the ceiling give off a warm, pleasant glow
over mahogany tables and chairs. To each side of this center
area are tall bookshelves. Balconies surround the room on all
four sides; three levels which overlook the center.

Somerset is happy. This is his element, this peaceful, elegant
place. George motions to the long, empty tables.

         GEORGE
      Sit where you'd like.

         SOMERSET
      Thanks, George.

         MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
      Hey there, Smilely.

Somerset looks up to the top balcony where TWO OTHER SECURITY
GUARDS and one JANITOR look over the banister.

         SOMERSET
      Evening, gentlemen.

They all say their hellos.

         FIRST GUARD
      Come on, George. Cards are getting cold.

         GEORGE
       (to Somerset)
      Duty calls.

George pumps Somerset's hand, then moves to a stairwell leading
to the balconies. Somerset walks down the main aisle, looks
around at the shelves and shelves of books.

George reaches the top balcony and the others sit at a card table
where a poker game is in progress.

Somerset puts his notebook down on one table and switches on a
green banker's lamp. THUNDER SOUNDS. Somerset looks up.

Rain is beginning to fall on the windows of the high ceiling.

         SOMERSET
       (shouts up)
      All these books, gentlemen... a world of
      knowledge at your disposal, and you play
      poker all night.

UP ON THE BALCONY

George has taken a huge BOOM-BOX from a broom closet.

         JANITOR
      We got culture.

         SECOND GUARD
       (dealing cards)
      Yeah, we got culture coming out our asses.

They laugh. George sets the boom-box against the railing of the
balcony so the speakers face towards Somerset.

DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR

Somerset has gone into one bookshelf aisle. Poker table
conversation echoes from above. Somerset searches books, reading
spines. He finds one book and pulls it, continues searching.

UP ON THE BALCONY

George hits play on the boom-box and turns the volume way up.

         GEORGE
      How's this for culture?

DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR

Somerset keeps looking for books. From far away come the strains
of MOZART MUSIC filling the air. High, drifting music, such as
AIR (On the G string.) Somerset stops, listens.

He closes his eyes and soaks it in.

UP ON THE BALCONY

George sits at the card table, takes out a cigar and lights up.
He looks to the ground floor.

         GEORGE
      Where'd you get to, Smilely?

Below, Somerset comes out from the aisle.

DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR

Somerset looks up at George.

         SOMERSET
       Thank you.

INT. PUBLIC LIBRARY, MAIN LIBRARY -- LATER NIGHT

MUSIC CONTINUES, spinning through the air like a slow, cool
breeze.

Somerset walks, surrounded by books, carrying several. He pulls
another off a shelf and adds it to his pile.

UP ON THE BALCONY

George lays down a winning hand. The others toss in their cards
in disgust. George laughs, spouting cigar smoke.

Cigar smoke floats up in the air, thinning gracefully. Above,
rain continues dancing on the ceiling windows.

DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR

Somerset sits, opens a book on the table and reads.

INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM/LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

MUSIC CONTINUES, uninterrupted over this scene. Music so pretty
it is almost sad. Tracy, in a nightgown, sits up in bed, tense,
She throws off the covers and goes to the door.

She stands looking into the living room where Mills is at a desk.

Mills sorts through paperwork and photos with his back to Tracy.
A basketball game is on the television, but he pays it no mind.
He sits forward, obviously frustrated, drinks coffee. He does
not know Tracy is there.

Tracy watches her husband, concerned.

INT. PUBLIC LIBRARY, MAIN LIBRARY -- NIGHT

MUSIC CONTINUES. Somerset has two books open. He opens his
notebook and brings a pen to bear. Writes:

SEVEN DEADLY SINS

GLUTTONY GREED WRATH LUST PRIDE ENVY SLOTH

He crosses out GLUTTONY and GREED. Somerset picks up one book:
DANTE'S PURGATORY. Volume II of the DIVINE COMEDY. Somerset
opens it:

-------------------------------------------------------------
|             THE EARTHLY PARADISE |
|-------------------------------------------------------- /\ |
|                              / \ |
|               VII The Lustful       /____\|
|                              / |
|                 VI The Gluttonous /_______|
|       7 TERRACES OF          /      |
|                V The Avaricious /       |
|                   and Prodigal /__________|
|           PURGATION          /       |
|                         /       |
|                         /       |
|                 IV The Slothful /______________|
|                         /         |
|                         /       |
|                         /       |
|             III The Wrathful /__________________|
|                         /       |
|              II The Envious /____________________|
|                     /           |
|              I The Proud /______________________|
|                     /           |
|                     /           |
|                   / THE ISLAND      |
|                        /       |
|               /      OF PURGATORY |
|                 /              |
|_______________________________/_____________________________|


UP ON THE BALCONY

George and the guys finish another hand. George looks down at
Somerset, who is writing in the notebook. George takes up the
cards and starts shuffling.

         GEORGE
       (down to Somerset)
      You know, Smilely... you're really going to
      miss us.

George shuffles again, but they flip wrong and a few go off the
table, over the balcony.

DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR

Somerset looks up at George, then looks around.

         SOMERSET
      I just might.

ABOVE

The cards George dropped are fluttering, flipping downwards.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- EARLY EVENING

The office is dark. Somerset is at his desk, writing:

DETECTIVE MILLS, YOU MAY WANT TO LOOK AT THE FOLLOWING BOOKS,
RELATING TO THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS:

DANTE'S PURGATORY
THE CANTERBURY TALES -- THE PARSON'S TALE
DICTIONARY OF CATHOLICISM

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- LATER EVENING

Somerset lays an envelope on top of the two boxes which have
Detective Mills' name on them. The envelope reads: MILLS.

INSERT -- TITLE CARD

WEDNESDAY

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- MORNING

Somerset pushes the door open and notices "DETECTIVE MILLS"
painted on the glass. Rain falls outside. Somerset goes to his
desk, but stops. All his belongings have been moved to a small,
temporary desk in the corner.

Somerset moves to open the top left drawer of the big desk.
Empty. He goes to the temporary desk and urgently searches
through the boxes of papers and files... finds what he was
looking for. He holds a small frame which fits in his palm.

Inside the frame is a PHOTO of an attractive WOMAN. Somerset
pops the frame open, looks at the picture, then puts the picture
in his wallet.

Somerset sits at the temporary desk. He begins to sort through
his papers. After a moment, he glances over his shoulder. The
envelope he left for Mills is gone.

EXT. UPSCALE CITY BLOCK -- MORNING

It's raining. At one high-rent office building, many business
men and women are coming and going in a lunch-hour hurry. Just
to one side of the building, the CORONER'S WAGON drives out from
the mouth of the parking garage into the rain. People on the
sidewalk have to stop to let it cross to the street. At the same
time, a large Lincoln Towncar turns off the street, heads into
the bowels of the garage.

EXT. UPSCALE BUILDING, UNDERGROUND GARAGE -- MORNING

Many police cars and news vans here, and police men and reporters
and photographers everywhere. Mills, looking haggard, finishes a
conversation with a TALL COP by the service elevator.

         MILLS
      ... good. Do it. I'm going back up.

Tall Cop hurries away as Mills pushes repeatedly on the service
elevator button. The elevator doors open and Mills steps in. As
the door are shutting, a COMMOTION is HEARD. Mills stops the
door and looks out.

Across the garage, the Towncar is pulling to a stop and reporters
are rushing to it. FLASHBULBS are FLASHING.

MARTIN TALBOT, 47, impressive and well dressed, steps out of the
car and faces the reporters as they start shouting questions.

In the service elevator, Mills lets the doors slide shut.

INT. UPSCALE BUILDING, SERVICE AREA -- MORNING

The service elevator opens to a dark physical plant room. Mills
exits the elevator and crosses past humming air-conditioning
vents, dripping pipes and janitor's lockers. To a door...

INT. UPSCALE BUILDING, OFFICE CORRIDOR -- MORNING

Mills comes out the service area door into a bright, ritzy
hallway. This hall and the doors along it reek of money. A few
cops are standing around. Ahead there's a police line, which
Mills ducks under on his way to stately mahogany doors.

INT. LAW OFFICE -- MORNING

A huge law office. A television is on in one corner, showing the
news. Windows overlook the rain wet city. Two FORENSICS dust
for prints, whispering to each other when Mills enters.

         FORENSIC ONE
       (to other forensic)
      ... going to screw it up. I swear... I've
      seen...

The other forensic clears his throat, getting back to work.
Forensic One shuts up. Mills notices this, weary.

         MILLS
      How's it coming?

         FORENSIC ONE
      Nothing yet.

Mills watches them a moment, then turns his attention to another
part of the office. A leather chair sits in an open area.

The chair and the carpet under it are covered in a goodly portion
of brown, dried blood.

There is a trail of dripped blood from the chair to a large desk.
On a cleared off section of the desk, a two-armed, counter
balance SCALE sits, also blood stained. The desk has been
dusted. Behind the desk, GREED is written on the wall in blood,
near a modern art painting.

Mills stands staring at this area. The TELEVISION is HEARD:

         ANCHOR (v.o.)
       (from television)
      ... going cut in live downtown right now,
      where Defense Attorney Eli Gould was found
      murdered in his office late last night.
      District Attorney Martin Talbot is taking
      questions from reporters...

ON T.V., Talbot comes on screen, a powerful presence, with a gold
tooth in the front of his mouth. It's from down in the garage.

         A REPORTER (v.o.)
       (from television)
      ... a small conflict of interest here? I
      mean, your prosecutors have lost more than
      a few very high profile cases to Mister
      Gould and his defense team...

         TALBOT (v.o.)
       (from television)
      Now, that's ridiculous to the point of
      almost being offensive. There's no
      conflict of interest whatsoever, and any
      claim that there would be, or could be, is
      irresponsible.

Other reporters begin to shout questions, but Talbot's not done.

         TALBOT (v.o.)
      Now, hold on... I want to address that.
      I've just come from a meeting with law
      enforcement officials, and they've assured
      me they put their best people on this
      thing.

Mills turns to looks at Talbot on the screen.

         TALBOT (v.o.)
      You just wait and see how quickly we get a
      handle on it. This will be the very
      definition of swift justice.

Mills walks to turn the t.v. off.

         MILLS
       (quietly to t.v.)
      Shut the fuck up.

He turns and looks to see the forensics looking at him. The
forensics look away.

Mills walks away from the t.v., to a picture frame on the floor.
The frame has been placed specifically in the center of the room,
facing the doors.

It is a photo if a falsely pretty, middle-aged woman, smiling and
wearing pearls. On the glass of the frame, two circles have been
drawn with blood around the woman's eyes.

Mills sits on the floor, stares at the photo.

INT. MILLS' CAR -- MORNING

Mills gets in and slams the door. He is alone with the sound of
the rain. He wipes water from his face and looks at his tired
eyes in the rear view mirror. He leans over to the glove
compartment and takes out two newly purchased paperbacks: The
Canterbury Tales and Dante's Purgatory.

Mills makes a face and opens Dante's Purgatory to a bookmark. He
rests the book on the steering wheel. He reads.

He bites his lip, leaning close to the words.

He is really concentrating, mouths some of the words to himself.
He finally shakes his head and closes the book, not understanding
a word of it. Pause. He starts pounding the book against the
steering wheel with all his might.

         MILLS
      Fucking, Dante, goddamn, poetry-writing,
      faggot motherfucker...

Mills throws the book against the windshield, then puts his head
back and closes his eyes, trying to calm. A long moment. Quiet.
BANG, BANG, BANG -- there's a loud BANGING on the window and
Mills looks up, startled...

Tall Cop is at the window in rain gear. Mills rolls it down.
Tall Cop hands a wet paper bag through.

         MILLS
      Good work, Officer. Good work.

Mills rolls the window up, rips the bag open. Inside: Cliff
Notes for Dante's Purgatory and for The Canterbury Tales.

         MILLS
      Thank God.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY

It still rains outside. Somerset sits at the big desk which is
now Mills'. He fills out form by hand as Mills enters with a ton
of his own paperwork. Somerset looks up.

         SOMERSET
       (gathers his things)
      Let me get out of your way.

Mills sets his paperwork on the desk. He is beat. Somerset
moves to the temporary desk. They both sit and settle in,
organizing, not looking at each other.

Both attend to their work. Here are two men, about five feet
apart, each trying not to acknowledge the other's presence.
Mills takes his Cliff Notes out, looks to see Somerset is
occupied, and hides them in a desk drawer.

Somerset finishes one form, flips it and looks at Mills. Mills
sorts through photos from the greed murder. Somerset continues
writing. PHONE RINGS. Both men look at it. Phone rings again.

         SOMERSET
      It's a package deal. You get the phone
      with the office.

         MILLS
       (picks up, into phone)
      Detective Mills here.
       (listens, lowers voice)
      Honey... I asked you not to call me here.
      I'll call you back...
       (listens)
      What? Why?

Mills is very confused.

         MILLS
       (into phone)
      Why? Okay... okay, hold on.

Mills clears his throat and holds out the phone to Somerset.

         MILLS
      It's my wife.

         SOMERSET
      What?

Mills shrugs. Somerset stands, takes the phone.

         SOMERSET
       (into phone)
      Hello?
       (listens)
      Yes, well... it's nice to speak to you.
       (listens)
      Well, I appreciate the thought... but...
       (listens)
      Then, I guess I'd be delighted. Thank you
      very much. Yes... goodbye.

Somerset hangs up, shakes his head.

         MILLS
      Well?

         SOMERSET
      I'm invited to have a late supper at your
      house. And, I accept.

         MILLS
      How's that?

         SOMERSET
      Tonight.

Mills is lost. Somerset goes to sit back down.

         MILLS
      I don't even know if I'm having dinner
      there tonight.

INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM/KITCHENETTE -- NIGHT

Food is cooking on the stove. Tracy is in the living room area
carefully setting the table with good silver and china.

The door to the apartment is HEARD OPENING and CLOSING. Mills
and Somerset come down a short hallway. Mills carries a brand
new briefcase.

         TRACY
      Hello, men. You made it.

         MILLS
      Hi, honey.

Mills gives Tracy a kiss, then presents Somerset.

         MILLS
      I'd like you to meet Somerset.

         SOMERSET
      Hello.

Somerset shakes Tracy's hand lightly.

         TRACY
      It's nice to meet you. My husband has told
      me a lot about you... except your first
      name.

         SOMERSET
      Oh... um, William.

         TRACY
      It's a nice name. William, I'd like you to
      meet David.
       (to Mills)
      David... William.

Mills smiles and nods this off, heading across the room.

         MILLS
      Great... I'm, uh, just going to put these
      things away.

Mills moves to the adjoining bedroom. Somerset stands with his
hands folded in front of him.

         SOMERSET
      It smells good.

         TRACY
      What? Oh, yes. I mean, thank you.
       (motions to the table)
      Please, sit down.

Somerset takes off his jacket. Tracy goes to check on the food.

         TRACY
      You can put that over on the couch. You'll
      have to excuse all the mess. We're still
      unpacking.

Somerset notices something on Mills' desk. It's a medal, in a
small, clear case amongst the papers and pens.

         SOMERSET
      I hear you and Mills were high school
      sweethearts.

         TRACY
      High school and college, yes. Pretty
      hokey, huh? I knew on our first date this
      was the man I was going to marry. God...
      he was the funniest man I'd ever met.

         SOMERSET
      Really?

Somerset has to think about that one for a second. He picks the
medal up: a medal for valor from the Police Department.

         SOMERSET
      Well, it's rare these days... that kind of
      commitment.

He puts the medal down. Tracy is looking at the gun strapped
under Somerset's arm as Somerset starts to unstrap it.

         SOMERSET
       (about the gun)
      Don't worry. I don't wear it at the dinner
      table.

         TRACY
      No matter how often I see guns, I still
      can't get used to them.

Somerset lays the gun with his jacket.

         SOMERSET
      Same here.

Tracy smiles. Somerset goes to the table and transfers a small
notebook from his breast pocket to his pants pocket. A piece of
paper falls to the floor, closer to Tracy.

         TRACY
      Anyway... what girl wouldn't want the
      captain of the football team as their
      lifetime mate? Here... you dropped
      something...

Tracy picks it up. It is the pale, paper rose. She looks at it
as she hands it back to Somerset, who is self-conscious.

         TRACY
      What is that?

Somerset looks at the rose, then puts it away.

         SOMERSET
      My future.

Tracy tilts her head, looking at Somerset.

         TRACY
      You have a strange way about you... I mean
      interesting. I'm sorry. It's really none
      of my business. It's just nice to meet a
      man who talks like that.
       (goes back to stove)
      If David saw that paper, he'd say you're a
      fag. That's how he is.

         SOMERSET
       (smiles)
      I guess I won't be showing it to him then.

INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATER NIGHT

A record player on a moving box PLAYS QUIET MUSIC. Tracy, Mills
and Somerset are eating. Mills has a beeper beside his plate and
occasionally fingers it absently.

         TRACY
      Why aren't you married, William?

         MILLS
      Tracy... what the hell?

Somerset pokes at the napkin, thinking.

         SOMERSET
      I was close once. It just didn't happen.

         TRACY
      It surprises me. It really does.

         SOMERSET
      Any person who spends a significant amount
      of time with me finds me... disagreeable.
      Just ask your husband.

         MILLS
      Very true.

Mills grins, but he means it.

         TRACY
       (to Somerset)
      How long have you lived here?

         SOMERSET
      Too long.
       (drinks)
      What do you think so far?

Tracy glances immediately to Mills.

         MILLS
      It takes time to settle in.

Somerset can see it is a sore subject.

         SOMERSET
      Well, you can get numb to it pretty quickly.
      There are things in any city...

A LOW RUMBLING is HEARD. Plates on the table begin to clatter.

         MILLS
      Subway train.

The dishes clatter more. Coffee cups clink against their
saucers. Tracy holds her coffee cup to stop it and smiles at
Somerset to act like it's nothing, but she is clearly bothered.

         TRACY
      It'll go away in a minute.

They wait. The rumbling grows louder, knocks something over in
the sink. Somerset continues eating, fiddles with his food. The
record player skips, then plays on. The clattering dies down.
Mills seems uncomfortable.

         MILLS
      This real estate guy... this miserable
      fuck, he brought us to see this place a few
      times. And, first I'm thinking he's good,
      really efficient. But then, I started
      wondering, why does he keep hurrying us
      along? Why will he only show us this place
      for like five minutes at a time?

Mills laughs lamely.

         TRACY
      We found out the first night.

Somerset tries to stay straight, but he can't help laughing.

         SOMERSET
      The soothing, relaxing, vibrating home.
      Sorry...

He laughs harder, covering his mouth. Tracy and Mills laugh.

         MILLS
      Oh, fuck.

INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATER NIGHT

The record player plays another album. Tracy brings over a pot
of coffee and pours. Mills and Somerset have beers.

         TRACY
      I don't think I've ever met anyone who
      doesn't have a television before.
      That's... weird.

         MILLS
      It's un-American is what it is.

         SOMERSET
      All television does is teach children that
      it's really cool to be stupid and eat candy
      bars all day.

         MILLS
      What about sports?

         SOMERSET
      What about them?

Tracy brings over a plate of cookies and puts it on the table.

         MILLS
      You go to movies at least?

         SOMERSET
      I read. Remember reading?

         MILLS
      I just have to say, I can't respect any man
      who's never seen "Green Acres."

Somerset gives a blank stare. Tracy walks across the room.

         MILLS
      You've never seen "The Odd Couple?" This
      is sick. "The Honeymooners?!"

         SOMERSET
      I vaguely recall a large, angry man, and
      someone called Norton.

Tracy turns the record player down further, then goes into the
bedroom and shuts the door behind her.

Somerset and Mills look a the closed door. A long moment. They
look at each other, then sit for a time. Somerset puts down his
beer, sighs. He looks around.

INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM

The only sounds are from the city outside. The living room table
has been cleared and its surface is now covered with various
forms, reports and 8" by 10" photographs. Mills and Somerset are
both standing. Mills guides Somerset through the photos.

         MILLS
      Our guy got into office, probably before
      the building closed and security tightened
      up. Gould must have been working late.

         SOMERSET
      I'm certain. He was the biggest defense
      lawyer around. Infamous, actually.

         MILLS
      Well, his body was found Monday night,
      okay? But, get this... the office was
      closed all day Monday. Which means, as
      long as the gluttony killing was done
      before the weekend, our killer could've
      gotten in here on Friday. He could've
      spent all day Saturday with Gould, and all
      day Sunday.

Mills picks up one photo and shows it to Somerset. Long shot: it
shows the greed murder scene. Gould sits dead in the leather
chair, near the desk where the counter-balance scale sits.

         MILLS
      Gould was tied down, nude. The killer left
      his arms free and handed him a big, sharp
      butcher's knife. See... the scale here.

Mills pulls another photo. Close up: the two-armed scale. In
one suspended plate is a one pound weight. In the other is a
hunk of flesh.

         SOMERSET
      A pound of flesh.

Mills digs, comes up with a photocopy of a hand-scrawled note.

         SOMERSET
       (reading note)
      "One pound of flesh, no more no less. No
      cartilage, no bone, but only flesh. This
      task done... and he would go free."

Mills takes out one photo showing the note pinned to the wall
beside where "greed" is written in blood.

         MILLS
      The leather chair was soaked through with
      sweat.

         SOMERSET
       (nods, grim)
      All day Saturday, and all day Sunday.
       (pause)
      The murderer would want Gould to take his
      time. To have to sit there and decide.
      Where do you make the first cut? There's a
      gun in your face... but, what part of your
      body is expendable?

         MILLS
      He cut along the side of his stomach. The
      love handle.

Somerset's still studying the photos.

         SOMERSET
      He must have left another puzzle piece.

         MILLS
      Look, I appreciate being able to talk this
      out, but, uh...

         SOMERSET
      This is just to satisfy my curiosity. I'm
      still leaving town Saturday.

Mills is very tired. He rubs his eyes, then walks to take one
more photo from his briefcase. It is the photo of the framed
picture of the falsely pretty woman with her eyes circled in
blood.

         MILLS
      Gould's wife. She was away on business.
      If this means she saw anything, I don't
      know what. We've questioned her at least
      five times.

         SOMERSET
      And, if it's a threat.

         MILLS
      We put her in a safe house.

Somerset nods. He puts down the photos he's holding. He begins
spreading all the pictures out.

         SOMERSET
      Look at these with fresh eyes. Don't see
      what the killer wants you to. Don't let
      guide you...

While he speaks, Somerset keeps shifting the photos, for example:
covering the corpse in one with the edge of another.

         SOMERSET
      Even if the corpse is right there... it's
      almost like looking through it. Editing
      out the initial shock. Look at the room.

In the photos, there's the scale. The note on the wall. Shelves
of books. The Modern Art painting.

GREED written in blood.

         SOMERSET
      He's preaching.

         MILLS
      Punishing.

         SOMERSET
      The sins were used in medieval sermons.
      There were seven cardinal virtues, and then
      seven deadly sins, created as a learning
      tool, because they distract from true
      worship.

         MILLS
      Like in the Parson's Tale, and Dante.

         SOMERSET
      Did you read them?

         MILLS
      Yeah. Parts of them. Anyway, in
      Purgatory, Dante and his buddy are climbing
      up that big mountain... seeing all these
      other guys who sinned...

         SOMERSET
      Seven Terraces of Purgation.

         MILLS
      Right. But there, pride comes first, not
      gluttony. The sins are in a different
      order.

         SOMERSET
      For now, let's just consider the books as the
      murderer's inspiration.
      The books and sermons are about atonement
      for sin. And, these murders have been like
      forced attrition.

         MILLS
      Forced what?

         SOMERSET
      Attrition. When you regret your sins, but
      not because you love God.

         MILLS
      Like, because someone's holding a gun on
      you.

Mills runs his hands across his face, walks to the fridge to get
beer. Somerset keeps looking at photos and papers.

         SOMERSET
      No fingerprints?

         MILLS
      Nothing.

         SOMERSET
      Totally unrelated victims.

Mills nods, drinking from a beer.

         SOMERSET
      No witnesses of any kind?

         MILLS
      None. Which I don't understand. He had to
      get back out.

Somerset sits in a chair, picks up the photo of the wife. Runs
his fingers over the eyes circled in blood.

         SOMERSET
      In any major city, minding your own
      business is a perfected science. There's a
      public crime prevention course offered at
      the precinct house once a month. The first
      thing they teach is that you should never
      cry "help." Always scream "fire," because
      people don't want to get caught up in
      anything. But a fire... that's an
      evening's entertainment. They come
      running.

Looking at the wife's photo.

         SOMERSET
      This is the one thing.

         MILLS
      I know.

         SOMERSET
       (holds photo up)
      What if it's not that she's seen
      something? What if she's supposed to see
      something, but she just hasn't been given a
      chance to see it yet?

         MILLS
      Okay. But, what?

INT. SAFE HOUSE -- NIGHT

The room is like a hotel room. Mills stands beside the woman
from the picture, MRS. GOULD. Mills shows her photos from the
murder scene. The photos have been covered in sections to hide
the Mr. Gould's corpse. Mrs. Gould is crying. Somerset is on
the other side of the room, holding more photos.

         MILLS
      I'm sorry about this, Mrs. Gould. I really
      am.

         MRS GOULD
      I... I don't understand.

Mills helps her flip through the photos. He isn't too keen to
put her through this.

         MILLS
      I need you to look at each one carefully...
      very carefully. Look for anything that
      seems strange or out of place. Anything at
      all.

         MRS GOULD
      I don't know why... why now?

         MILLS
      Please, I need you to help me if we're
      going to get who did this.

Mrs. Gould sobs quietly, wipes her tears.

         MILLS
      Anything... anything missing or different.

         MRS GOULD
      I don't see anything.

         MILLS
      Are you absolutely certain?

         MRS GOULD
      I can't do this now... please.

Mills looks to Somerset, looks at the photos Somerset holds.

         MILLS
      Maybe we better wait.

Somerset looks at the photos in his hand. These show Mr. Gould's
corpse in the chair, not covered in any way.

         SOMERSET
      It should be now. There may be something
      we're not seeing.

         MRS GOULD
      Wait. Here...

         MILLS
      What is it?

Mrs. Gould points at the modern art painting on the wall in one
photo. The painting is just splattered paint, abstract.

         MRS GOULD
      This painting...

         MILLS
      What?

         MRS GOULD
      Why is this painting hanging upside-down?

Mills turns to look at Somerset.

INT. LAW OFFICE -- NIGHT

Where the greed murder took place. Somerset, wearing gloves,
reaches to take the modern art painting off the wall. Mills
near, watching.

         SOMERSET
      You're sure your men didn't move this?

         MILLS
      Even if they did, those photos were taken
      before forensics.

Nothing on the wall behind the painting. Blank space.

         MILLS
      Nothing.

         SOMERSET
      It's got to be.

Somerset puts the painting down, resting it on its bottom edge.
The painting is backed by a thick sheet of brown papers stapled
into the wooden frame. Somerset points to where the wire's eye
screws used to be screwed into the frame, and to where it has
been rescrewed.

         SOMERSET
      He changed the wire to rehang it.

Somerset takes out his switchblade. Mills is surprised.

         MILLS
      What the fuck is that?

         SOMERSET
      A switchblade.

Somerset cuts along the edge of the brown paper to get to the
hollow space between it and the back of the canvas. He cuts out
the entire sheet. Mills helps pull it away. Nothing. Empty.
Mills looks at both sides of the paper, then tosses it away.

         MILLS
      Nothing. Damn it!

Somerset lays the painting face up on the floor. He pokes his
finger on the painted surface. He brings the flat of his blade
against the painting, tries to peel some of the paint.

         MILLS
      The killer didn't paint the fucking thing.
      Give it up.

Somerset pushes the painting away, frustrated.

         SOMERSET
      There must be something.

         MILLS
      We're screwed. He's fucking with us.

Somerset backs away from the wall, staring at the space where the
painting hung. There is only a nail. He turns, looking around
the office, then crosses.

Mills puts his hands to his temple, furious, picks up a lamp and
throws it to the floor, venting.

         MILLS
      Motherfucker!

Across the room, Somerset falls to his knees and pulls open a
forensics kit. He takes out a fingerprint brush, examining the
bristles. Mills sees this.

         MILLS
      What?

         SOMERSET
      Bear with me.

Somerset goes back to the wall where the painting was. He pulls
over a chair, gets on it and starts brushing near the nail.

         MILLS
      Oh, yeah, sure. You got to be kidding?!

         SOMERSET
      Just wait!

Somerset brushes with a few wider strokes. He leans close,
studies the powder residue. Leans closer still. Pause.

         SOMERSET
      Call the print lab.

INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- NIGHT

Tracy is asleep, dressed, with the lights still on. She stirs,
then awakens and sits up slowly. She squints from the light,
sweaty and uncomfortable. She looks around and listens. All she
hears is traffic.

EXT. MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

FROM OUTSIDE, looking into the apartment, we see Tracy come in
from the bedroom. She sees Mills and Somerset are gone. She
comes to open a window, then goes to the kitchen area.

We're still LOOKING IN at her as she starts the dishes in the
sink. The RUMBLING of the SUBWAY TRAIN is HEARD starting. The
room begins to rattle, as before.

Tracy looks out into the living room, ill at ease.

INT. LAW OFFICE -- NIGHT

The male forensic from the gluttony murder scene is here. He has
a magnifying glass which he's using to study a very clear
fingerprint in black powder on the wall.

         MALE FORENSIC
      Oh, man...

         MILLS (o.s.)
      Talk to me.

The male forensic bites his lip, still studying.

Mills and Somerset are watching the forensic who works O.S.

         MILLS
       (to Somerset)
      Just, honestly... have you ever seen
      anything like this... been involved in
      anything like this?

         SOMERSET
      No.

         MALE FORENSIC (o.s.)
      Well, I can tell you, boys...

The forensic steps down from a stool. Behind him, where the
painting once was, are fingerprints, clear and distinct. The
prints have been left, one after the other, to form letters which
form words: HELP ME.

         MALE FORENSIC
      ... just by looking at the shape of the
      underloop on these, they are not the
      victim's fingerprints.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, PRINT LAB -- NIGHT

Dark. A TECHNICIAN sits before an old computer. The computer's
green screen shows enlarged fingerprint patterns being aligned,
compares, and then rejected: whir - click - whir - click - whir -
click. Mills and Somerset watch, bathed in a green glow.

         MILLS
      He just may be nuts enough.

         SOMERSET
      It doesn't fit. He doesn't want us to help
      him stop.

         MILLS
      Who the hell knows? There's plenty of
      freaks out there doing dirty deeds they
      don't want to do. You know... little
      voices tell them bad things.

Somerset doesn't buy it. The technician adjusts a knob, then
turns to the detectives.

         TECHNICIAN
      I've seen this baby take as long as three
      days to make a match, so you guys can go
      cross your fingers somewhere else.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, HALLWAY -- NIGHT

Somerset and Mills come out from the Print Lab. A janitor is
mopping the hall. The computer is HEARD WHIRing AND CLICKing
onwards. Somerset sits with a groan on a couch outside the lab
door. Mills flops beside him.

         SOMERSET
      You meant what you said to Mrs. Gould,
      didn't you? About catching this guy. You
      really want to believe that, don't you?

         MILLS
      And you don't?

         SOMERSET
       (laughs, very tired)
      I wish I still thought like you.

         MILLS
      Then, you tell me what you think we're
      doing.

         SOMERSET
      All we do is pick up the pieces. We take
      all the evidence, and all the pictures and
      samples. We write everything down and note
      what time things happened...

         MILLS
      Oh, that's all.

         SOMERSET
      We put it in a nice neat pile and file it
      away, on the slim chance it's ever needed
      in a courtroom.
       (pause)
      It's like collecting diamonds on a desert
      island. You keep them just in case you
      ever get rescued, but it's a pretty big
      ocean out there.

         MILLS
      Bullshit.

         SOMERSET
      I'm, sorry, but even the most promising
      clues usually lead only to other clues.
      I've seen so many corpses rolled away...
      unrevenged.

         MILLS
      I've seen the same. I'm not the country
      hick you seem to think I am.

         SOMERSET
      In this city, if all the skeletons came out
      of all the closets... if ever hidden body
      were to suddenly rise again, there'd be no
      more room for the living.

Somerset slumps back, takes out a cigarette and lights it.

         MILLS
      Don't tell me you didn't get that rush
      tonight... that adrenalin, like we were
      getting somewhere.

Mills sits back on the couch, closes his eyes.

         MILLS
      And, don't try to tell me it was because
      you found something that would play well in
      a courtroom.

Somerset looks at Mills, who crosses his arms to sleep. Somerset
puffs the cigarette.

The computer is heard: whir - click - whir - click...

INSERT -- TITLE CARD

THURSDAY

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, HALLWAY -- EARLY MORNING

Mills and Somerset are fast asleep on the couch, leaning against
each other. People pass and look at them strangely. A man steps
in front of the couch. He reaches with both hands to slap their
faces simultaneously.

It's the captain leaning over them.

         CAPTAIN
      Wake up, Glimmer Twins. We have a winner.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, READY ROOM -- EARLY MORNING

A windowless classroom. The captain stands at a podium in front
with a white screen at his side. A mug-shot of a man, VICTOR,
25, is projected onto the screen from a slide projector.

         CAPTAIN
      He goes by the name Victor, as many of you
      know, and his prints were found on scene by
      Detectives Mills and Somerset.

FIVE hardened POLICE OFFICERS, four men and one woman, sit in
chairs facing the captain. The all wear bullet-proof vests with
the word POLICE spray-painted across them.

Somerset and Mills sit in back, drinking coffee, still asleep.

         CAPTAIN
      Now, this guy's a real beauty. He has a
      long, long history of serious mental
      illness. According the head-shrinkers, it
      seems his parents gave him a very strict,
      Southern Baptist upbringing, but somewhere
      along the line he dropped his marbles.

Two of the cops in the front row are talking.

         CAPTAIN
      Hey, you two can shut-up now!

The two cops separate like huge, embarassed school children.

         CAPTAIN
      Thank you, fuckheads. Now, Victor spent a
      couple of months in prison for the
      attempted rape of an eight year old boy,
      but his lawyer made sure he didn't stay
      long. Before that, he dabbled in drugs,
      armed robbery and assault.
      We've been doing our best to keep an eye on
      him, but he's been out of circulation for a
      while.

         FEMALE COP
      If he disappeared, what do you want from
      us?

         CAPTAIN
      His last place of residence is still in his
      name. A search warrant is being pushed
      through the courts as we speak.

A red-headed cop, CALIFORNIA, raises his hand.

         CALIFORNIA
      So, have the housing cops walk up and ring
      the doorbell.

The cops laugh. The captain is clenching his jaw, angry.

         CAPTAIN
      Listen, California. When you go in, if
      Victor isn't home, one of his buddies might
      be house-sitting, so you go in guns first.
      Besides using, Victor deals, and we know
      what kind of crowd he runs with.

There is some chatter amongst the cops.

         CAPTAIN
      This is what the D.A. has a hard-on for
      right now, Ladies and Germs, so we do not
      question why.

Mills leans to Somerset while the captain continues the briefing.
They whisper.

         MILLS
      Does this make it with you?

         SOMERSET
      Doesn't seem like our man, does it?

         MILLS
      You tell me. I'm new in town.

         SOMERSET
      He doesn't have the desire somehow. Our
      killer seems to have more purpose. More
      purpose than Victor could ever conceive of.

         MILLS
      The fingerprints.

         SOMERSET
      Yes. They were there... so, it must be.

         MILLS
      We'll tag along.

Somerset wants no part of that.

         SOMERSET
      Why would we?

         MILLS
       (smiles)
      Satisfy our curiosity?

INT. MILLS' CAR -- MORNING

Mills drives, follows a police van. Somerset rides shotgun.
Mills seems pumped and ready. Somerset takes two Rolaids off a
fresh roll and chews them.

         MILLS
      You ever take one?

Somerset takes out his gun, opens it to check the load.

         SOMERSET
      Never in my twenty-four years, knock on
      wood. I've only ever taken my gun out five
      times with the actual intention of using
      it. Never fired it though. Not once.
       (closes his gun)
      You?

         MILLS
      Never took a bullet. I pulled my gun once.
      fired it once.

         SOMERSET
      And?

         MILLS
      It was my first one of these. We were a
      secondary unit, and I was pretty shaky
      going in. I was still considered a rookie.

Mills takes a corner, tires screeching.

         MILLS
      We busted the door, looking for this
      junkie, right? The geek just opened fire.
      Another cop was hit in the arm and he went
      flying... like in slow motion.
       (pause)
      I remember riding in the ambulance. His
      arm was like Jello. A piece of meat. He
      bled to death right there.

A pause.

         SOMERSET
      How did the fire fight end?

         MILLS
      I got him. I got the son-of-a-bitch.
      See, I was doing really good up till then.
      Lots of street busts. I've always had this
      weird luck... everything always went my
      way, but this was wild.
       (pause)
      I got him with one shot... right between
      the eyes. Next thing I know, the mayor's
      pinning a medal on me. Picture in the
      paper, whole nine yards.

Somerset unrolls the window, feels the air across his face.

         SOMERSET
      How was it?

         MILLS
      I expected it to be bad, you know. I took
      a human life... but I slept like a baby
      that night. I never gave it a second
      thought.

         SOMERSET
      I think Hemingway wrote somewhere... I
      can't remember where, but he wrote that in
      order to live in a place like this, you
      have to have the ability to kill. I think
      he meant you truly must be able to do it,
      not just faking it, too survive.

         MILLS
      Sounds like he knew what he was talking
      about.

INT. SLUM BUILDING, STAIRWELL -- MORNING

The five cops from the briefing, fully geared up and ready,
rifles and handguns out, move quickly up the stairs in single
file. Somerset and Mills follow, guns out. Somerset is sweating
bullets. Mills is wild eyed, juiced.

Crack viles and hypodermic needles on the stairs crunch under the
cops' heavy boots.

INT. SLUM HALLWAY -- MORNING

The cops enter the dank hall. The move cautiously. A man is
lying on the floor, looking up, helpless, with dead eyes.

A door opens and a woman peeks out. The female cop points her
gun and the door slams. California, leading the group, steps up
to apartment 303. He has a search warrant scotch-taped to the
front of his bullet-proof vest.

         CALIFORNIA
       (to black cop)
      This is it. Give it up.

The black cop hoists a heavy battering ram to California. The
other cops get on both sides of the door. Somerset and Mills
hang back a few feet, watching their backs.

         BLACK COP
       (points to Mills)
      Cops go before Dicks.

Many people are sticking their heads out of doors in the hall.

         CALIFORNIA
      Police! Open the door!!

California brings the ram forward with a splintering THUD -- once
-- twice -- the door flies open. The cops storm in.

INT. SLUM APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- MORNING

The apartment is incredibly dusty. The cops charge down the
short hall into this room where a bed sits against the far wall.
California moves up to the bed. Someone lies under the sheets.
Three other cops move, all training their weapon on the bed.

         CALIFORNIA
      Good morning, sweetheart!

A blond cop goes into another room. California moves closer to
the bed, gun up.

         CALIFORNIA
      Get up, now, motherfucker! NOW!

INT. SLUM APARTMENT, ADJOINING ROOM -- MORNING

The blond cop enters, gun trained, looks around in confusion.

The room's tables, chairs and floor are covered with hundreds of
colorful, plastic air fresheners.

INT. SLUM APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- MORNING

Mills and Somerset enter. Somerset looks at the cops around the
bed, then looks at a nearby wall. His mouth drops in horror. On
the wall, written in excrement: SLOTH.

         SOMERSET
      Jesus...

California kicks the bed, enraged.

         CALIFORNIA
      I said get up, Sleepyhead!

He pulls the sheets off the bed and reveals the shriveled,
sore-covered form of a man who is blindfolded and tied to the bed
with a thin wire which has been wrapped time and time again
around the mattress and bed frame. Tubes runs out from a stained
loincloth around the man's waist and snake under the bed.

         CALIFORNIA
      Fuck me!

Mills pushes past the other cops.

         MILLS
      Holy shit.

The cops recoil from the stench. Somerset steps up, putting his
gun away.

         SOMERSET
      Victor?

         BLACK COP
      What the hell... ?

         CALIFORNIA
       (to Somerset)
      Check this out, Dick...

California points with his gun to the end of the man's right arm.
The hand is gone, severed at the wrist long ago.

         MILLS
      It is Victor.

         SOMERSET
       (points to a cop)
      Call an ambulance.

The blond cop enters from the other room.

         BLOND COP
      What the fuck is this?

         CALIFORNIA
      Somebody call a hearse, more like.

The female cop has gone to one wall where a sheet is pinned up.
She pulls the sheet down. Pinned behind the sheet are fifty-two
Polaroid pictures; all pictures of Victor tied to the bed, with a
date written at the bottom of each picture. It is a visual
history of Victor's physical decay.

         BLOND COP
      What is going on?

Mills sees the female cop looking at the pictures.

         MILLS
      Hey, California, get your people out.

Somerset takes out rubber gloves and puts them on.

         CALIFORNIA
      You heard him. Hit the hall, and don't
      touch anything.

Somerset replaces the sheet over Victor, but not over his head.

The cops file out and Mills goes to examine the pictures.
California stays by the bed with Somerset.

         CALIFORNIA
      It looks like he's some kind of friggin'
      sculpture or something.

Somerset places his finger along Victor's throat.

         MILLS
      Somerset, you... you better look here.

Mills looks at the photos in awe. Somerset joins him.

         MILLS
      All pictures of Victor tied to the bed.
       (crouches, points)
      The last one is dated three days ago.

Somerset looks at the first photo. In it, Victor is bound and
gagged, but he is healthy.

         SOMERSET
      The first one... it's dated one year ago.
      To the day.

Somerset wipes his pale face.

Californian stands by the corpse, behind Somerset and Mills. He
lifts the sheet on the bed to look under it.

         CALIFORNIA
      Mother...

Mills kneels and lifts the sheet which had covered the pictures
off the floor. There is an open shoebox underneath.

         MILLS
      What...?

On the side of the box: TO THE DETECTIVES, FROM ME.

California leans close to Victor's gaunt, blindfolded face,
examining with morbid curiosity.

         CALIFORNIA
      You got what you deserved, Victor.

Somerset leans down beside Mills. Mills looks through the
shoebox. Inside are plastic, zip-lock bags.

One contains small clumps of hair. One contains a yellow
liquid...

         MILLS
       (looking at bags)
      A urine sample, hair sample... stool
      sample. Finger nails...
       (looks to Somerset)
      He laughing at us.

California is still close to Victor's face, when suddenly
Victor's lips twist open and Victor lets out a loud, guttural
bark.

California jerks back, shouting in fear, falling over a chair to
to the floor.

Mills and Somerset reel. They see California on the ground,
scared out of his mind, pointing.

         CALIFORNIA
      He's alive!

Somerset and Mills look towards the bed.

Victor's lips move feebly as he lets out a sick, gurgling moan.

         CALIFORNIA
      He's still alive!!

EXT. SLUM APARTMENT BUILDING -- MORNING

A crowd has gathered at the entrance. Mills' car, the police van
and two ambulances are parked on the sidewalk.

INT. SLUM HALLWAY -- MORNING

The cops are in the hall holding neighbors at bay.

INT. SLUM APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- MORNING

Three ambulance attendants are at the bed, working on Victor.
One attendant uses wire cutters to clip Victor's bonds.

INT. SLUM STAIRWELL -- MORNING

Mills and Somerset are standing in the middle of one flight of
stairs. Both are highly agitated.

         SOMERSET
      The way this has gone till now, I wouldn't
      have thought it was possible, but we may
      have underestimated this guy.

         MILLS
      I want him bad. I don't just want to catch
      him anymore. I want to hurt him.

         SOMERSET
      Listen to me. He's all about playing
      games.

         MILLS
      No kidding! No fucking kidding!

         SOMERSET
      We have to divorce ourselves from emotions
      here. No matter how hard it is, we have to
      stay focused on the details.

         MILLS
      I don't know about you, but I feed off my
      emotions.

         SOMERSET
      He'll string us along all the way if we're
      not careful.

Mills is looking at the floor, still burning. Somerset grabs him
by the jacket.

         SOMERSET
      Are you listening to me?

Mills pushes Somerset's hand off.

         MILLS
      I hear you.

There is a sudden, brilliant FLASH OF LIGHT and the SOUND of a
CAMERA ADVANCING. Mills and Somerset look.

Down the stairs, a REPORTER has his camera up, pointed at them.

         REPORTER
      Say cheese.

He take another picture, flashbulb flashing.

Mills goes down the stairs, grabs the reporter, a balding, almost
silly looking man with thick glasses and wrinkled clothing.

         MILLS
      What the fuck are you doing here?

The reporter squirms, holds up a laminated press pass on a cord
around his neck.

         REPORTER
      I have a right, Officer. I...

Mills shoves him, and the reporter stumbles a few steps, then
falls to the landing below with a thud.

         MILLS
      That doesn't mean anything! This is a
      closed crime scene!

Somerset comes to pull Mills back. The shaken reporter stands
uneasily.

         REPORTER
      You can't do this! You can't...

         MILLS
      Get the fuck out of here!

The reporter scrambles down the nest flight, out of sight.

         REPORTER (o.s.)
      The public has a right to know!

Somerset yanks Mills back harder, till Mills sits on the stairs.

         MILLS
      How do those cockroaches get here so quick?

         SOMERSET
      They pay cops for the inside scoop, and
      they pay well.

         MILLS
       (calming)
      Sorry about that... I just...

         SOMERSET
       (sarcastic)
      Oh, it's alright.

Somerset starts back up the stairs.

         SOMERSET
      It's always impressive to see a man feeding
      off his emotions.

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM -- DAY

Somerset and Mills are with DOCTOR BEARDSLEY. Victor lies inside
an oxygen tent with tubes running into him. The room is dim.

         DOCTOR
      A year of immobility seems about right,
      judging by the deterioration of the muscles
      and the spine. Blood tests show a whole
      smorgasbord of drugs in his systems; from
      crack to heroin... even an antibiotic which
      must have been administered to keep the bed
      sores from infecting.

Mills looks into the oxygen tent.

         MILLS
      He hasn't said anything, or tried to
      express himself in any way?

         DOCTOR
      Even if his brain were not mush, which it
      is... he chewed off his own tongue long
      ago.

Mills winces, moves away from the bed.

         SOMERSET
      There's no way he'll survive?

         DOCTOR
      Detective, he'd die right how of shock if
      you were to shine a flashlight in his eyes.

Silence for a moment, then the doctor lets out a chuckle.

         DOCTOR
      It's funny to think... he's experienced
      about as much pain and suffering as anyone
      I've encountered... give or take... and he
      still has hell to look forward to.

He chuckles again, engrossed in some information on a clipboard.
Mills looks to Somerset like, "this guy's nuts."

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY

A blackboard is nailed to the wall. Written in chalk:

1 gluttony (x) 5 wrath
2 greed (x) 6 pride
3 sloth (x) 7 lust
4 envy

Somerset and Mills are at their paperwork covered desks.

         SOMERSET
       ((reading one sheet)
      Victor's landlord says an envelope of cash
      was in the office mailbox each month. He
      says, quote, "I never heard a single
      complaint from the tenant in apartment
      three-o-one, and nobody ever complained
      about him. He's the best tenant I've ever
      had.

         MILLS
      A landlord's dream tenant: a paralyzed man
      with no tongue.

         SOMERSET
      Who pays the rent on time.

Somerset turns to the typewriter, types. Mills fills out a form
by hand. He make an error and tries to erase, but the paper
rips. He curses, crumples the paper and throws it.

         MILLS
      I'm sick of sitting around, waiting for him
      to kill again.

         SOMERSET
      This is the job. It's not an Easter egg
      hunt.

         MILLS
      There must be something in this pile of
      garbage we can follow. I mean, Christ...
      do we have to let this lunatic make all the
      moves.

         SOMERSET
      It's too dismissive to call him a lunatic.
      We can't make that mistake.

         MILLS
      Oh, blah, blah, blah. The guy's insane.

         SOMERSET
      It's a fine line between insane and
      inspired.

         MILLS
      Hey, Freud, what brand of bullshit are you
      shoveling, huh? Right now he's probably
      dancing around his room in a pair of his
      mommy's panties, singing show tunes and
      rubbing himself with peanut butter...

         SOMERSET
       No.

         MILLS
      Sooner or later his luck's going to run
      out.

         SOMERSET
      No. He's not depending on luck. You've
      seen that. We walked into that apartment
      exactly one year after he first tied Victor
      to the bed, to the day. To the day!
      Because he wanted us to.

         MILLS
      We don't know for sure...

         SOMERSET
      Yes we do. Here...

Somerset picks up the photocopy of the first note.

         SOMERSET
      This quote... his first words to us. I
      looked it up. It's from Milton's Paradise
      Lost. "Long is the way, and hard, that out
      of hell leads up to light... "

         MILLS
      And so what?

         SOMERSET
      Well, he's been right so far, hasn't he?

         MILLS
      Just because the bastard has a library
      card, it doesn't make him Einstein.

         SOMERSET
      Just, realize... this is not some common
      lunatic. The type of intestinal fortitude
      it must take... to keep a man bound for a
      full year. To connect tubes to his
      genitals. To sever his hand and use it to
      plant fingerprints. He's methodical and
      exacting, and worst of all, he's patient.

         MILLS
      What does all that matter anyway? It's not
      our job to figure him out, is it? All we
      have to do is catching him.

Something clicks for Somerset. He looks away, thinking.

Mills watches him.

         MILLS
      What?

Somerset sits. Ponders, staring off into space.

         MILLS
      What is it?

Somerset stands back up, takes money out of his pockets.

         SOMERSET
      How much money do you have?

         MILLS
      I don't know... like fifty.

Somerset picks up the phone and dials, still sifting through his
own money. Mills doesn't know what's going on.

         SOMERSET
       (to Mills)
      I propose a field trip.

INT. PUBLIC LIBRARY -- DAY

Somerset walks through the busy main library, goes to a group of
computer terminals. Mills follows, wound up. Somerset sits at
one computer and works the keyboard, hunt-and-peck.

         MILLS
      Somerset... what the fuck?

Several people turn to shush him. Somerset takes out a notepad.

         SOMERSET
      At the top of the list, we'll put
      Purgatory, Canterbury Tales... anything
      relating to the seven deadly sins. Now,
      what the killer might research. What would
      he need to study to do the things he's
      done? What are his other interests? For
      example...

INSERT -- COMPUTER SCREEN

Somerset types. On the screen: SEARCH: JACK THE RIPPER.

EXT. HOT DOG WORLD -- DAY

The restaurant's sign reads: HOT DOG WORLD, HOME OF THE WORLD'S
BIGGEST DOGS. A MAN is trying to give out paper advertisements.
People walk out of their way to avoid him.

         MAN
       (to people)
      Take one, you stupid fucks! Here... take
      one! It's a fucking coupon! Take it!

INT. HOT DOG WORLD -- DAY

Mills and Somerset are in a booth, both on the same seat on the
same side of the table. They look over their list of books.
Mills goes to eat a hot dog, but Somerset stops him.

         SOMERSET
      They had about fifty health violations
      during the last inspection.

Mills throws the dog down, looks at his watch.

         MILLS
      Could you at least sit across from me? I
      don't want people to thing we're dating.

Somerset watches a GREASY MAN, wearing a black suit, enter. The
man's hair is slicked back.

         SOMERSET
      Give me your money.

Mills hands his money to Somerset.

         MILLS
      I'm handing you this, and for some strange
      reason, I have the idea I should know what
      the fuck we're doing.

Somerset folds the money with his own into the list of books. He
holds the list in his lap, under the table. Greasy Man comes to
sit at the table.

         GREASY MAN
      Hey, Somerset. How are you? I didn't know
      this was going to be a menage-a-trois.

         SOMERSET
      It's not a problem.

         GREASY MAN
      Only for you do I do this. Big risk
      here... so I figure we'll be even-up. All
      fair and square.

Greasy Man has his hands under the table. he gets up to leave
with his hand in his pocket. He picks up Mills' dog.

         GREASY MAN
      About an hour.

Greasy Man leaves, eating the hot dog.

         MILLS
      Well, that was money well spent.

         SOMERSET
      Let's go.

INT. PIZZA PARLOR -- DAY

Mills and Somerset sit with a pizza before them.

         SOMERSET
      By telling you this, I'm trusting you more
      than I trust most people.

         MILLS
      It's be best if you got to the point, cause
      I'm about ready to punch you in the face.

Somerset leans closer to Mills, speaks quietly.

         SOMERSET
      It's probably nothing, but even if it is,
      it's no skin off our teeth. The man at Hot
      Dog World is a friend, in the Bureau.

         MILLS
      Him?

         SOMERSET
      For a long time, the F.B.I.'s been hooked
      into the library system, keeping accurate
      records.

         MILLS
      What? Assessing fines?

         SOMERSET
      They monitor reading habits. Not every
      book, but certain ones are flagged. Books
      about... let's say, how to build a nuclear
      bomb, or maybe Mein Kampf. Whoever takes
      out a flagged book has their library
      records fed to the F.B.I. from then on.

         MILLS
      You got to be kidding.

         SOMERSET
      Flagged books cover every topic the Bureau
      deems questionable... communism to violent
      crime.

         MILLS
      How is this legal?

         SOMERSET
      Legal... illegal. These terms don't apply.
      I don't applaud it.

Somerset takes a bite of pizza.

         SOMERSET
      They can't use the information directly,
      but it's a useful guide. It might sound
      silly, but you can't get a library card
      without i.d. and a current phone bill.

Mills is starting to warm to it.

         MILLS
      So they ran our list.

         SOMERSET
      If you want to know who's been reading
      Paradise Lost, Purgatory, and say... The
      Life and Time of Charlie Manson, the
      Bureau's computer will tell you. It might
      give us a name.

         MILLS
      Yeah. Some college student who's taking
      English 101 and just happens to be writing
      a paper on Twentieth Century Crime.

         SOMERSET
      Yeah, well... at least we're out of the
      office. We've got pizza.

         MILLS
      How do you know all about this?

         SOMERSET
      I don't. Neither do you.

Somerset looks up. Greasy Man is entering the pizza parlor.

INT. SOMERSET'S CAR -- DAY

The car is parked with Somerset at the wheel and Mills beside.
They're looking through pages of connected computer paper.

         MILLS
      This is a waste of time.

         SOMERSET
      We're focusing.

         MILLS
      I know, I know... focusing on one little
      thing.

         SOMERSET
       (reading aloud)
      The Divine Comedy. A History of
      Catholicism. A book called Murderers and
      Madmen.

He hands the sheets to Mills. Mills looks them over.

         MILLS
       (reading)
      Modern Homicide Investigation. In Cold
      Blood. Of Human Bondage. Human Bondage?

         SOMERSET
      It's not what you think it is.

         MILLS
       (reads)
      The Marquis de Sade and Origins of Sadism.

         SOMERSET
      That is.

         MILLS
       (reads)
      The Writings of Saint Thomas Aqu...
      Aquin...

         SOMERSET
      Saint Thomas Aquinas.
       (starts the car)
      He wrote about the seven deadly sins.

INT. TENEMENT BUILDING, STAIRWELL/HALLWAY -- DAY

Somerset and Mills walk up the stairs and turn a corner into this
long hall. Somerset is looking at the computer sheets.

         MILLS
      You're sure you're reading that right?
      John Doe?

         SOMERSET
      That's what it says. Jonathan Doe.

         MILLS
      This is stupid. It'd be just too easy.

         SOMERSET
      We'll take a look at him. Talk to him.

         MILLS
      Sure. Uh, excuse me... are you by any
      chance a serial killer? Oh, you are?
      Well, come with us then, if it's okay.

They reach a door, apartment 6A. Somerset knocks.

         MILLS
      What are you going to say?

         SOMERSET
      You do the talking. Put that old silver
      tongue of yours to work.

         MILLS
      Who told you about my silver tongue? You
      been talking to my wife?

Mills knocks on the door, hard.

         MILLS
      This is really lame.

A CREAK is HEARD O.S. Somerset turns to look towards it...

A male figure, JOHN DOE, is standing at the stairwell, wearing a
hat and standing in shadow, looking towards them. Stark still.

Somerset furrows his brow.

The John Doe reaches into his coat, lifts his arm, pointing...

         SOMERSET
      Mills... !

BLAM -- GUNFIRE SOUNDS, deafening, as a bullet slams into door
6A, just missing Somerset as he and Mills hit the floor.

John Doe fires again...

The bullet blows a huge hole in the wall, throwing plaster. A
third bullet follows, just above Mills and Somerset, and John Doe
is heard running back down the stairs.

The gunfire's still echoing, ringing, as Mills gets up and
unholsters his gun.

         MILLS
      Jesus Christ...

Mills scrambles down the stairwell...

IN THE STARWELL

Mills bounds down stairs, turns a corner and leaps down another
flight. He halts on the landing, listening. John Doe can be
HEARD still RUNNING, below.

IN THE HALL ABOVE

Somerset rolls and takes out his gun. He stands, dazed.

         MILLS (o.s.)
       (from in stairwell)
      What kind of gun was it?

IN THE STAIRWELL

Somerset comes into the stairwell.

         MILLS (o.s.)
       (from below)
      Damn it, Somerset... what kind of gun?!
      How many bullets?

BELOW, IN THE STAIRWELL

Mills hurries down more stairs.

         SOMERSET (o.s.)
       (from above)
      I don't know. Might've been a revolver.

Voices echo. Mills loses his footing, falls...

Mills hits the next landing hard, dropping his gun.

         MILLS
      Fuck!

Mills gets back up and picks up his gun and keeps going.

ABOVE IN THE STAIRWELL

       the stairs, breathing hard.

         MILLS (o.s.)
       (from below)
      What's he look like?

         SOMERSET
      Brown hat. Tan raincoat... like a... like
      a trench coat.

BELOW IN THE STAIRWELL

       ready, moves to peer over the railing, down into
       stairwell's center...

       in shadow, aiming his gun straight up...

       s SHOT is FIRED from below and the bullet is

ABOVE

         SOMERSET splinters into a million pieces, sends
Somerset ducking for cover.

       far below -- the bullet is HEARD RICOCHETING

BELOW

       waiting as the gunshot echoes.

         MILLS
       (to himself)
      Five... that's five...

       continues down the stairs.

INT. TENEMENT BUILDING, LOWER HALLWAY -- DAY

       stairs and into a hallway, falling to one knee,
       ing his gun one direction -- empty hallway.

      direction, gun hand shaking, catches a
glimpse of John Doe just as he disappears around a corner far
       Mills gets up, looking back to the number 2 by
       ooks, shouting back towards the stairwell...

         MILLS
      Second floor! Second floor!

       FOLLOW him, tearing ass...



       rn, full speed ahead, bringing his gun up...

         JOHN DOE's running...

Mills takes aim...

Ahead, between John Doe and Mills, a tenant in t-shirt and
underwear comes out an apartment, looking towards John Doe,
blocking the line of fire...

         MILLS
      Get down! Move... !

The tenant turns to Mills, confused. Mills pushes angrily
past...

Ahead, John Doe makes an abrupt halt. A woman tenant is looking
out her door and John Doe grabs her and throws her into the hall.
She falls as John Doe shoves his way into her apartment.

BACK AT THE STAIRWELL

Somerset comes down the stairs, tired. He runs.

AROUND THE CORNER, IN THE OTHER HALLWAY SECTION

Mills reaches the apartment Doe entered, bursting in...

INT. TENEMENT APARTMENT -- DAY

Mills enters, gun up. It's a railroad apartment, with all the
rooms adjoining in a row. At the far end of the apartment, John
Doe can be seen moving out one room's window onto a fire escape
just as that room's door is swinging shut.

Mills charges through the apartment, full on...

He bashes through the closed door...

EXT. TENEMENT BUILDING, FIRE ESCAPE -- DAY

Mills leans out the window over an alleyway. BLAM -- GUNSHOT.
The window above Mills' shatters and Mills pulls back.

Mills leans back out, fanning with his gun, searching.

Below, John Doe runs out the alleyway's mouth and rounds a
corner, gone.

Mills curses, scrambling out onto the fire escape, running a few
steps and then vaulting the rail... crashes down on the roof of a
car parked below. The windshield cracks. Mills jumps off and
continues the pursuit...

         MILLS
       (to himself)
      That's six...

EXT. CITY STREET -- DAY

Mills rounds the alleyway corner into people packed streets.

Several people are running, heading several different directions.

Mills comes to a halt, his focus confused, searching desperately.
Others run upon seeing his gun. Woman scream and grab up their
children. Mills can't see far down the sidewalk because of all
the people. He moves forward...

He jumps atop a fire hydrant, gripping a street sign for balance,
trying to see further down the street.

MILLS' P.O.V. -- There he is! John Doe can be seen, far off,
moving across the street, through traffic, to the opposite
sidewalk.

ON THE STREET, Mills runs, into traffic, avoiding cars, down the
center line. Angry drivers scream at him.

Ahead, John Doe glances back, ducking into an alley.

Mills gets to the other sidewalk, yelling for people to get out
of the way...

EXT. CITY ALLEYWAY -- DAY

Mills comes to this tight alleyway. It's dark, with a long,
tall, vertical sliver of daylight far ahead. Mills runs...

Charging hard onwards...

A two-by-four swings out from a hidden nook along the side of the
alleyway -- slamming Mills in the face with a THWACK!!

Mills' gun hits the alley wall and clatters into a puddle.

Mills hits the dirt, on his back, nose broken and split, face
bloodied. He cries out, rolling to his side, clutching his face.

The two-by-four is dropped. John Doe's feet cross a short
distance. Doe's hand reaches to pick up Mills' gun. (We never
see John Doe's face.)

Mills still lies on his side, stunned, spitting blood and
cursing, when he feels the barrel of his gun against the side of
his face. Mills freezes.

John Doe moves the gun slowly across Mills' face, till the barrel
reaches Mills' mouth. The barrel is inserted between his lips.

The gun's hammer is pulled back.

Mills quakes, tries to open his eyes, but he's blinded by the
blood from his broken nose. For an instant, there is a sudden,
BRIGHT FLASH of LIGHT.

After a long moment, the gun withdrawals. From O.S., the bullets
fall out of Mills gun onto his chest.

The gun is dropped. John Doe runs towards the sliver of light.
He's gone.

Mills lies for a long moment, gasping. At the alleyway's entrance,
Somerset appears.

         SOMERSET
      Mills...

Mills rolls, shaken, feeling to pick up the bullets and trying to
rub the blood out of his eyes with his shirt sleeve. Somerset
arrives.

         SOMERSET
      Are you alright?

         MILLS
      I'm fine.

         SOMERSET
      What happened?

Mills gets up, collects his gun and pockets it, then walks past
Somerset, heading back.

         SOMERSET
      Mills... ?

Mills starts running. Somerset runs to follow.

INT. TENEMENT BUILDING, STAIRWELL/HALLWAY -- DAY

Mills moves from the stairwell, driven, his nose still bleeding,
heading for apartment 6A. Somerset takes Mills arm, but Mills
pulls away and keeps going.

         SOMERSET
      Wait... just wait.

         MILLS
      It was him.

         SOMERSET
      You can't go in there.

Somerset grabs Mills again and Mills shoves him off.

         MILLS
      The hell I can't! We get in there and we
      can stop him.

         SOMERSET
      We need a warrant.

         MILLS
      We have probable cause now.

Somerset grabs Mills and shoves him against the wall.

         SOMERSET
      Think about it...

         MILLS
      What the fuck is wrong with you?

         SOMERSET
      Think about how we got here!

Somerset holds the computer paper, now crumpled in his hand. He
waves it in Mills' face as Mills struggles.

         SOMERSET
      We can't tell anyone about this. We can't
      tell them about the Bureau, so we have no
      reason for being here.

Mills stops struggling, breathing hard, seething, trembling.

         MILLS
      By the time we clear a warrant someone else
      is going to be dead.

         SOMERSET
      Think it through. If we leave a hole like
      this, we'll never prosecute. He'll walk.
       (pause)
      We have to come up with some excuse for
      knocking on this door.

         MILLS
      Okay... okay... get off.

Somerset releases Mills. Mills looks around the hall, then goes
right to door 6A and KICKS IT IN -- the door jam splinters and
the door swings open to darkness for a moment before swinging
back, half-shut.

         SOMERSET
      You stupid son of a...

         MILLS
      No point in arguing anymore...

Mills strides down the short end of the hall, towards a window.

         MILLS
       (pointing back)
      Unless you can fix that.

Mills stops, looking out the window. It overlooks a weedy,
overgrown courtyard where a THIN VAGRANT lies asleep on the
concrete. Mills turns, looking back to Somerset.

         MILLS
      How much money do we have left?

INT. TENEMENT BUILDING, STAIRWELL -- EARLY EVENING

On a stairwell landing, Somerset watches the thin vagrant from
the courtyard talk to a uniformed POLICEMAN who writes on a
clipboard, taking the statement.

         THIN VAGRANT
      So, I... I noticed this guy going out...
      going out a lot when those murders were
      happening. So... so I...

The vagrant's clinging to the rail, drunk and out of it. Mills
is down further on the stairs, high strung, chomping at the bit
to get this over with.

         MILLS
      So, you called Detective Somerset, right?

         THIN VAGRANT
      Yeah, I... I called the detective.
      Because, because this guy seemed... creepy.
      And... and...

         MILLS
       (urging him on)
      And...

         THIN VAGRANT
      And, one of the murders was over there...
      over... nearby here. I... I called the
      cops...

The vagrant wipes drool from his lips. Mills comes to grip him
so he doesn't fall, searching the policemen's face for suspicion.

         MILLS
      I told you the rest. You got it?

         POLICEMAN
       (still writing)
      Yeah, whatever.

         SOMERSET
      Have him sign it.

The policeman holds the clipboard and pen out to the vagrant.
Mills takes the pen and guides the vagrant's hand, almost signing
it for him.

         MILLS
      Great. Is that it?

The policeman nods. Mills grips the vagrant and leads him down
the stairs in a hurry, around a bend. Mills looks up to be sure
they're out of the policeman's sight, takes out a wad of cash and
shoves it in the vagrant's pocket.

         MILLS
      Go drink yourself happy.

Mills quickly guides the vagrant on his way, then turns and
rushes up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- EARLY EVENING

Mills pushes door 6A open, putting on rubber gloves. He steps in
with Somerset behind. Somerset turns back to the policeman.

         SOMERSET
       (to policeman)
      Wait outside.

Somerset closes the door most of the way. Mills hits a switch on
the wall and a lamp illuminates a desk. The desk is in the
center of the room, facing them. The room is bizarre, with some
areas cluttered and others barren. All the walls are painted
black. All the large, curtainless windows are painted over.

Somerset puts on his gloves. Mills walks to the desk.

The desktop is rather tidy. The only blatantly strange thing is
a set of notches carved into the wooden surface: three notches.
A candle has been allowed to burn down at one corner of the desk
and the wax trail goes all the way to the floor. Mills opens the
middle desk drawer. It's empty except for The Holy Bible.

Somerset moves along shelves of books, looking at the spines.
Lots of thick, oversized art volumes. A HISTORY OF THEOLOGY.
HANDBOOK OF FIREARMS. HISTORY OF THE WORLD. SUMMA THEOLOGICA.
UNITED STATES CRIMINAL LAW REVIEW.

At the desk, Mills opens another drawer. It's filled with at
least forty empty aspirin bottles. He opens the next drawer and
finds a rosary and several boxes of bullets.

Somerset comes to look at John Doe's "bed." No mattress. It's
only a metal frame and springs with a sheet spread across it.
The sheet is sweat stained and dotted by stains of rust at many
points where springs have worn through.

Somerset walks around the bed to a narrow table not far away
against the wall. The table contains a strange tableau, like a
mini stage, hand-made of cardboard and pasted Communion wafers.
A human hand immersed in a jar of liquid is the centerpiece.

         SOMERSET
       (quiet, to himself)
      Victor.

Above this, on the wall, there's a clutter of pinned up articles
about the seven deadly sins, pages from art books, pencil
drawings of Christ, all tight together and overlapping.

Mills picks up a small piece of paper from a letter holder. It's
a pink receipt from WILD BILL'S LEATHER SHOP.

Written: CUSTOM JOB. $502.64. PAID IN FULL. Mills puts the
receipt back down on the desk.

Somerset walks to a black door. Opens it.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMEN, ROOM TWO -- EARLY EVENING

Somerset enters. A ceiling light is on. Bare bulb. There are
bookshelves on three walls, filled with notebooks. Thousands and
thousands of notebooks.

Somerset takes one notebook down. It is a thick composition book
with an unlabeled cover. Inside, the pages are filled with small
handwritten sentences, thumb-nail sketches and blurry, glued in
photographs; small photos, seemingly cut from contact sheets.
the sketches, pictures and writings takes up ever single inch.

Somerset takes down another notebook and flips through the pages.
Same as the first, filled to the brim.

Somerset crosses to another shelf and pulls another notebook.
Same deal. Somerset looks around.

         SOMERSET
      Jesus.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- EARLY EVENING

Mills moves from the desk to a hall. He tries a light switch,
but it does nothing. He walks...

It's dark. A rather long hall. The only light is a red glow
seeping from under the bottom of the closed door ahead.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- EARLY EVENING

Somerset walks to a 16mm film projector. It sits facing a
battered white screen. Somerset turns the projector on, backing
away to switch off the bare bulb above.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, HALL -- EARLY EVENING

Mills reaches the door at the end of the hall. He turns the knob
and pushes the door open. He's bathed in red light.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, BATHROOM -- EARLY EVENING

Mills enters. He looks around, slowly. Stunned.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- EARLY EVENING

The projector is clattering in the dark, running a piece of film
through. The film is spliced to run as a non-stop loop.
Somerset watches the screen, light strobing across him.

The screen shows a bright image of clouds drifting, with strange
superimposed angels in flowing robes floating jerkily. It's like
a weird, old Hollywood version of Heaven.

The images switch abruptly to fire and tormented souls laboring
around a pit of molten goo, where more tormented humans squirm.
Like Heaven, it's a scratched piece of film from Hollywood's
early days.

         MILLS (o.s.)
      Somerset!

Somerset is engrossed in the images.

         MILLS (o.s.)
      Somerset... come here!

Somerset hears him.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, HALL/BATHROOM -- EARLY EVENING

Somerset comes down the hall.

         MILLS (o.s.)
      We had him, damn it.

Somerset reaches the bathroom where Mills stands looking up at
the wall. The room has been converted into a dark room lit by
red bulbs, with strips of film hanging from the ceiling.

         SOMERSET
      What are you talking about?

         MILLS
      We had him.

There are hundreds of prints on the walls and hanging from drying
wires. Somerset looks around, trying to understand...

Pictures of John Doe's victims, alive and dead. Grotesque
photos, of their pleading faces, and their dead bodies. Close
shots of eyes, fingers and mouths.

Mills sits on the closed toilet, throwing something into the
nearby sink and resting his head in his hands.

         MILLS
      The pass was a fake.

In the sink -- it's a laminated press pass on a neck cord.

On the walls, more pictures: of the crime scenes, but from the
outside looking in. Long shots. Police cars. Ambulances.
Uniformed officers putting up police barrier ribbons outside
buildings. The coroner's wagon.

Somerset stares at them, taking them in, realizing...

         MILLS
      We had him and we let him go.

In the backgrounds of the pictures: Somerset and Mills. In
another: Mills crossing the street. In another: Somerset and
Mills getting out of Somerset's car.

One photo, close shot, shows Mills and Somerset on the stairwell
of the building where Victor's body was found. It is the
picture taken by the balding, almost silly looking reporter.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- NIGHT

A male forensic uses tongs to remove Victor's hand from the jar
of liquid. He places the hand in a clear plastic evidence bag.

The forensic walks away with the hand, past a FEMALE SKETCH
ARTIST who puts the finishing touches on an accurate drawing of
the balding, almost silly looking reporter who wears thick
glasses, now known as John Doe.

         SKETCH ARTIST
      You're sure this is him?

Mills stands over the sketch artist. Two deputy detectives, SARA
and BILLY, are at work along with two other forensics searching,
photographing and dusting.

         MILLS
      Just put it in circulation.

         SKETCH ARTIST
      You got it. Tomorrow morning, this city's
      good citizens will be on the lookout for
      Elmer Fudd.

         SARA
       (coming to Mills)
      We can't find anything to hang on to. No
      paystubs, no appointment books or
      calendars. Not even an address book. And,
      you're not going to believe this...

         MILLS
      Keep looking.

         SARA
      It's just... we haven't found any
      fingerprints yet. Not a single one.

         MILLS
      You know, you're right, I don't believe
      you. Keep looking.

Mills walks away.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- NIGHT

Somerset and three uniformed officers are looking through the
notebooks on the shelves. Somerset squints at the notebook in
his hand, shaking his head as he reads. Mills enters.

Somerset looks up and closes the notebook.

         SOMERSET
      We could use about fifty more men here.

         MILLS
      I'm trying, alright? Just tell me what
      we've got.

Somerset pauses briefly at Mills' abruptness.

         SOMERSET
      Well, there are at least five thousand
      notebooks in this room, and near as I can
      tell, each notebook contains two hundred
      and fifty pages.

         MILLS
      Then, he must write about these murders.

         SOMERSET
       (opens notebook, reads)
      "What sick, ridiculous, puppets we are, and
      what a gross, little stage we dance on.
      What fun we have, dancing and fucking, not
      a care in the world. Not knowing that we
      are nothing. We are not what was
      intended."

Somerset turns a few pages.

         SOMERSET
       (reads)
      "On the subway today, a man came to me to
      start a conversation. He made small talk,
      this lonely man, talking about the weather
      and other things. I tried to be pleasant
      and accommodating, but my head began to
      hurt from his banality. I almost didn't
      notice it had happened, but I suddenly
      threw up all over him. He was not pleased,
      and I couldn't help laughing."

Somerset closes the notebook.

         SOMERSET
      No dates indicated, placed on the shelves
      in no discernible order. It's just his
      mind poured out on paper. I don't think
      it's going to give us any specifics.

         MILLS
      Looking around... I've got a bad feeling
      these murders are his life's work.

A PHONE is HEARD RINGING in another room. Mills looks.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- NIGHT

Everyone's looking around, and at each other, trying to find the
source of the RINGING. Mills and Somerset enter, baffled. Mills
looks to Sara. She shrugs and shakes her head.

Everyone searches. PHONE RINGS.

Mills gets on his hands and knees.

         MILLS
      Here...

Mills crawls under John Doe's "bed." He comes back out with a
rotary phone. Someone throws him a micro-cassette recorder.
Mills turns the recorder on, makes sure it's running, then picks
up the phone with the recorder to the earpiece.

         MILLS
       (into phone)
      Hello.

         JOHN DOE (v.o.)
       (from phone)
      I admire you. I don't know how you found
      me, but imagine my surprise. I respect you
      detectives more every day.

         MILLS
       (into phone)
      Okay, John, let's...

         JOHN DOE (v.o.)
       (from phone)
      No, no, no! You listen. I'll be back on
      schedule tomorrow, even with this setback.
      I just had to call and express my
      admiration. I'm sorry I had to hurt you
      today, but I didn't have a choice. You
      will accept my apology, won't you?

Mills says nothing, containing his anger.

         JOHN DOE (v.o.)
      I feel like saying more... but I don't want
      to ruin the surprise.

John Doe hangs up. Mills puts down the phone.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- LATER NIGHT

Mills and Somerset stand in the dark, watching the continuous
loop projector's strange images of Heaven and Hell.

         MILLS
      You were right.

Somerset looks at Mills.

         MILLS
      He's preaching.

         SOMERSET
       (nods)
      These murders are his masterwork. His
      sermon to all of us. To all us sinners.

The door opens and light bursts in. The captain stands there,
looking them over.

         CAPTAIN
      It's been a long day, kids. Go home. Just
      make sure you sleep with the phone between
      your legs.

INT. SOMERSET'S APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- NIGHT

Somerset winds his metronome. PHONE RINGS. Somerset does not
want to answer it, but does.

         SOMERSET
       (into phone)
      Hello.

         TRACY (v.o.)
       (from phone)
      Hello, William? It's Tracy.

         SOMERSET
       (into phone)
      Tracy, is everything alright?

         TRACY (v.o.)
      Yes, yes, everything's fine.

         SOMERSET
      Where's David?

         TRACY (v.o.)
      He's in the shower, in the other room. I'm
      sorry to call like this.

         SOMERSET
      It's alright, I guess.

         TRACY (v.o.)
      I, um... I need to talk to you. I need to
      talk to someone. Can you meet me
      somewhere... maybe tomorrow morning?

         SOMERSET
      I really don't understand.

         TRACY (v.o.)
      I feel stupid, but you're the only person I
      know here. There's no one else...

         SOMERSET
      I just...

         TRACY (v.o.)
      Can't you get away, for a little while?

         SOMERSET
      I don't know, with this case.

         TRACY
      If you can, please call me. Please. I
      have to go now... goodnight.

Tracy hangs up. Somerset looks at the phone, wondering.

INSERT -- TITLE CARD

FRIDAY

INT. COFFEE CAFE -- MORNING

Somerset sits in the window booth with Tracy. The cafe is noisy.
Tracy stares into her coffee while she stirs it.

         TRACY
      I mean, you known this city. You've been
      here for so long.

         SOMERSET
      It's a hard place.

         TRACY
      I don't sleep very well.

Somerset is trying to be understanding, but sneaks a look at his
watch.

         SOMERSET
      I feel strange being here with you...
      without David knowing.

         TRACY
      I'm sorry, I only...

Two young punks step up to the window outside and look in at
Tracy. One flicks his tongue rapidly. Tracy looks away.
Somerset takes out his badge and holds it against the window.
One punk gives the finger and the other spits on the window.
They leave, laughing. Tracy tries to smile.

         TRACY
      Perfect example.

         SOMERSET
      You have to put blinders on sometimes.
      Most times.

         TRACY
      I don't know why I asked you to come.

         SOMERSET
      Talk to him about it. He'll understand if
      you tell him how you feel.

         TRACY
      I can't be a burden, especially now. I
      know I'll get used to things. I guess I
      wanted to know what someone who's lived
      here thinks. Upstate, it was a completely
      different environment.
       (pause)
      I don't know if David told you, but I teach
      fifth grade, or did.

         SOMERSET
      He mentioned it.

Tracy seems very upset, near tears.

         TRACY
      I've been going to some of the schools,
      looking for work, but the conditions here
      are... horrible.

         SOMERSET
      You should look into private schools.

         TRACY
      I don't know...

Tracy looks up, wipes at her eyes.

         SOMERSET
      What's really bothering you?

Tracy bites her lip.

         TRACY
      David and I are... going to have a baby.

Somerset sits back, the expression of soothing concern on his
face disappearing.

         SOMERSET
      Oh, Tracy... I have to tell you, I'm not
      the one to talk to about this.

         TRACY
      I hate this city.

Somerset sighs. He takes out a cigarette, but thinks better of
it and puts it back. He looks out the window.

         SOMERSET
      If you're thinking...
       (pause)
      I had a relationship once, very much like a
      marriage. And, she was going to have our
      child. This is a long time ago. She and I
      had decided we were going to make the
      choice together... whether to keep the
      baby.

Tracy looks at Somerset.

         SOMERSET
      Well, I got up one morning and went to
      work... just like any other day, except it
      was my first since hearing about the baby.
      And, I... I felt this fear and anxiety
      washing over me. I looked around, and I
      thought, how can we raise a child
      surrounded by all this? How can a child
      grow up here?
       (pause)
      So, that night, I told her I didn't want us
      to have it, and over the next few weeks, I
      convinced her it was wrong. I mean... I
      wore her down, slowly.

         TRACY
      I want to have children. It's just...

         SOMERSET
      I can tell you now, I know... I'm positive
      I made the right decision. I'm positive.
      But, there's never a day that passes that I
      don't wish I had decided differently.

Somerset reaches and takes Tracy's hand.

         SOMERSET
      If you... don't keep the baby, if that's
      what you decide, then, never tell him you
      were pregnant. I mean that. Never.
       (pause)
      The relationship will whither and die.

Tracy nods, tears welling up again. Somerset smiles a bit.

         SOMERSET
      But, if you do decide to have the baby,
      then, at that very moment, when you're
      absolutely sure, tell David. Tell him at
      that exact second, and then spoil that kid
      every chance you get.

There are tears in Somerset's eyes.

         SOMERSET
      That's all the advice I can give you,
      Tracy. I don't even know you.

He smiles again, wipes his own tears.

         TRACY
      William...

Somerset's beeper begins BEEPING. He takes it out and stands,
wanting to leave. Tracy gets up and kisses him on the cheek.

         TRACY
      Thank you.

Somerset starts to back away.

         TRACY
      Keep in touch after you're gone, William.
      Please.

Somerset nods, raises a hand to say goodbye as he leaves.

INT. WILD BILL'S LEATHER SHOP -- DAY

Mills and Somerset are on one side of the counter and WILD BILL
is on the other. Wild Bill is shirtless and covered in tattoos.
He has a thick scar running down the center of his forehead and
down his cheek. leather belts, whips and jackets hang on the
walls and from the ceiling.

         WILD BILL
      Yeah, he picked it up last night.

Wild Bill holds the pink receipt from John Doe's apartment.

         MILLS
      This was definitely him?

Mills points to the rendering of John Doe he holds.

         WILD BILL
      Yeah, John Doe. Easy name to remember.

         SOMERSET
      What was this job you did for him?

         WILD BILL
      I got a picture of it here. It's a real
      sweet piece...

Wild Bill pulls a box from behind the counter, digs in it.

         WILD BILL
      I figured he must be one of those
      performance artists. That's what I
      figured.
      Like one of those guys who pisses in a cup
      on stage and drinks it. Performance art.

Wild Bill hands a Polaroid picture to Mills. We do not see the
picture yet.

         MILLS
      Oh... give me a break.

         WILD BILL
      I think I undercharged him.

         SOMERSET
       (looks at photo)
      You built this for him? You build this?

         WILD BILL
      I've built weirder shit than that. So
      what?

A POLICEMAN enters the store.

         POLICEMAN
      Detectives... we have a situation.

Mills and Somerset follow the cop out.

         WILD BILL
      Hey, my picture... !

Wild Bill watches them go, scratches his thick scar.

         WILD BILL
      Fucking pigs.

EXT. THE HOT HOUSE MASSAGE PARLOUR -- DAY

It's a madhouse outside The Hot House, a bright red storefront
bordered on both sides by porno theater after porno theater. A
crowd is gathered around a police action in progress.

Cops have formed a barrier, holding back the crowd and creating
an aisle from the entrance of The Hot House to the back of a
jail-van. Cops and detectives are escorting various men, women
and transvestites into the large vehicle. The crowd, consisting
of the dregs of society, is shouting. Some people are spitting
and throwing trash at the cops.

INT. THE HOT HOUSE, RECEPTION AREA -- DAY

TWO COPS are in front of a glass and steel cage. Inside the cage
is a fat, BALD MAN with a wall of sex toys behind him.

         BALD MAN
      Just wait! Just wait!

One cop pounds his nightstick against the glass.

         COP
      Get out of the fucking booth!

         BALD MAN
      Just wait! I'll come out, just wait!

INT. THE HOT HOUSE, CORRIDORS -- DAY

All the lights are red and the walls are painted red. Mills and
Somerset follow a THIRD COP through the twisting corridors.
POLICEMEN can be HEARD SHOUTING and MAKING ARRESTS. ROCK MUSIC
PLAYS, throbbing. They come to a door.

         THIRD COP
      I don't want to go in there again.

INT. RED ROOM -- DAY

Mills and Somerset enter. ROCK MUSIC CONTINUES, LOUD. A strobe
light flashes from the ceiling. TWO AMBULANCE ATTENDANTS are in
the room. The first attendant is placing a sheet over a bed,
hiding the corpse of a blonde woman. The second attendant is
trying to examine the pupils of a CRAZED MAN, 55, who is naked
and wrapped in a sheet. A SWEATING COP holds crazed man down.

         CRAZED MAN
      He... he... he made me do it!

         SECOND ATTENDANT
      I have to look at you. I have to look at
      you!

LUST is scratched into the red paint on the wall in big letters.

Mills and Somerset move towards the covered body.

         FIRST ATTENDANT
       (to Mills and Somerset)
      You're not going to want to see this more
      than once.

         CRAZED MAN
      He had a gun! He made me do it!

The sheet is lifted for the detectives. They grimace at what
they see. We do not see. Somerset closes his eyes and turns
away. The first attendant replaces the sheet.

Mills steps back, takes out his handkerchief and sucks on it. He
looks at the crazed man. The crazed man jerks around while the
second attendant preps a needle.

         SECOND ATTENDANT
      He's in shock, man. He's gone.

         CRAZED MAN
      Take this thing off me... take it off!
      Please, take this thing off me!

The sweating cop keeps his controlling grip on the crazed man.

         CRAZED MAN
      Get it off... oh, God!

         SWEATING COP
       (to Mills and Somerset)
      You're the detectives, right? Right?
      Well, you'd better see this!

Somerset's facing the wall. Crazed man's still yelling.

         SWEATING COP
      Hey... you better see what's strapped onto
      this guy!

Mills turns to the cop.

         MILLS
      We've already seen it!

INT. SANATORIUM, WHITE ROOM -- DAY

A Polaroid photograph on a white table. It is the photo Wild
Bill gave to Mills. It's a picture of a belt, made with extra
leather straps so it can be worn securely around the groin. It
is a strap-on phallus, except there is no plastic protuberance.
Instead, there is a metal knife -- it's a strap-on butcher's
knife.

         CRAZED MAN
      And... and... and he said... he asked me if
      I was married. And, I could see he had a
      gun in his hand.

         SOMERSET
      Where was the girl?

         CRAZED MAN
      What? What?

         SOMERSET
      Where was the prostitute? Where was she?

The crazed man leans forward in his chair.

         CRAZED MAN
      She was... she was on the bed. She was
      just sitting on the bed.

         SOMERSET
      Who tied her down? You or him?

         CRAZED MAN
      He had a gun. He had a gun... and he made
      it happen. He made me do it!
       (sobbing)
      He made me put that... that thing on. Oh,
      Christ! He made me wear it... and... and
      he told me to fuck her. He had the gun in
      my mouth.

The man slides to the floor and hides his face in his hands.

         CRAZED MAN
      The gun was in my throat!

Somerset looks up at the mirror in his room. He stands and picks
up the Polaroids as two men in institutional uniforms enter to
collect the crazed man from the floor.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, INTERROGATION ROOM -- DAY

Mills stands in this dirty room with the dirty, bald man from The
Hot House's reception area booth.

         MILLS
      You didn't hear any screams? Nothing? You
      didn't notice when this man walked in with
      a package under his arm?!

         BALD MAN
      No, I didn't.

         MILLS
      You didn't notice anything wrong? Nothing
      seemed strange to you?

         BALD MAN
      Everybody who goes in there has a package
      under his arm. Some guys are carrying
      suitcases full of stuff. And, screams?
      There're screams coming out of there
      everyday. It goes with the territory,
      little boy!

         MILLS
      You like what you do for a living? You
      like the things you see?

The bald man smiles strangely.

         BALD MAN
      No. No, I don't. But, that's life.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- EARLY EVENING

The blackboard:

1 gluttony (x) 5 wrath
2 greed (x)      6 pride
3 sloth (x)      7 lust (x)
4 envy

Somerset and Mills are shell-shocked, silent, seated at their
desks. Somerset is looking at the blackboard. Mills is looking
at the billboard out the window.

INT. SPORTS BAR -- NIGHT

Somerset and Mills sit with a full pitcher of beer. The jukebox
plays for the other customers. The walls of the bar are covered
with trophies, plaques and other victory symbols.

         SOMERSET
      The irony is, after a day of the type of
      work he did, he'd come home and read me
      these morbid crime stories. Murders in the
      Rue Morgue. Le Fanu's Green Tea. My
      mother would give him hell because he was
      keeping me up till all hours.

         MILLS
      Sounds like a father who wanted his son to
      follow in his footsteps.

         SOMERSET
      One birthday he gave me this brand new
      hardcover book, "The Century of the
      Detective," by Jurgen Thorwald. It traced
      the history of deduction as a science, and
      it sealed my fate, because it was real, not
      fiction. And, that a drop of blood or a
      piece of hair could solve a crime... it was
      incredible to me.

Somerset drinks, then pours more beer.

         SOMERSET
      You know... there's not going to be a happy
      ending to this. It's not possible anymore.

         MILLS
      If we get him, I'll be happy enough.

         SOMERSET
      No. Face it now. Stop thinking it's good
      guys against bad guys.

         MILLS
      How can you say that? Especially after
      today?

         SOMERSET
      Don't try to focus on things as black and
      white, because you'll go blind. There's no
      winning and losing here.

         MILLS
      You're the oldest man I know, Somerset.

         SOMERSET
      You tell me, then... you walk into an
      apartment, and a man has beaten his wife to
      death, or the wife murdered the husband,
      and you have to wash the blood off their
      children. You put the killer in jail. Who
      won?

         MILLS
      You do your job...

         SOMERSET
      Where's the victory?

         MILLS
      You follow the law and do the best you can.
      It's all there.

         SOMERSET
      Just know that in this case there's not
      going to be any satisfaction. If we caught
      John Doe and he were the devil himself, if
      it turned out he were actually Satan, then,
      that might live up to our expectations. No
      human being could do these things, right?
      But, this is not the devil. It's just a
      man.

         MILLS
      Why don't you shut the fuck up for a while?
      You bitch and complain... if I thought like
      you, I would have slit my wrist already.

Somerset sits back, looking at Mills.

         MILLS
      You think you're preparing me for the hard
      times ahead? You think you're toughening
      me up? Well, you're not! You're quitting,
      fine... but I'm staying.

         SOMERSET
      People don't want a champion. They just
      want to keep playing the lottery and eating
      hamburgers.

         MILLS
      What the fuck is wrong with you? What
      burnt you out?

         SOMERSET
      It wasn't one thing, if that's what you
      mean. I just... I can't live here anymore.
      I can't live where stupidity is embraced
      and nurtured as if it were a virtue.

         MILLS
      Oh, you're so much better than everyone,
      right? No one's worthy of you.

         SOMERSET
      Wrong! I sympathize completely, because if
      you can't win... then, if you don't ignore
      everything and everyone around you, you...
      you become like John Doe. It's easier to
      beat a child than it is to raise it,
      because it takes so much work to love. You
      just have to make sure you don't stop to
      think about the abuse, and the damage,
      because you'll risk being sad. Keep
      ignoring.

         MILLS
      You're talking about people who are
      mentally ill. You're...

         SOMERSET
      No I'm not! I'm talking about common,
      everyday life here. If you let yourself
      worry about one thing, you'll worry about
      the next, and the next, and it never ends.
      In this place, ignorance isn't just bliss,
      it's a matter of survival.

         MILLS
      Listen to yourself. You say, "the problem
      with people is they don't care, so I don't
      care about people." But, you're already
      here. You've been here a long time. So,
      there's a part of you that knows, even if
      everything you say is true, none of it
      matters.

         SOMERSET
      That part of me is dead.

Mills stands.

         MILLS
      You want me to agree with you: "Yeah,
      you're right, Somerset. This is a fucked
      place. Let's go live in a fucking log
      cabin." Well, I don't agree with you.
      You're giving up, and it makes me sick,
      because you're the best I've ever seen.

Mills throws some money on the table.

         MILLS
      Thanks for the beer.

Mills leaves, other patrons watching him.

Somerset takes out a cigarette and goes to light it. The lighter
will not light, and when it does, Somerset's hand is trembling.

INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- NIGHT

Mills comes quietly into the dark bedroom. Tracy is asleep on
the bed. Mills takes off his suit jacket, puts it down. He sits
on a chair and unties one shoe, takes it off, then looks at
Tracy. Looks at her a long moment.

He puts the shoe on the floor and goes to get on the bed. He
kisses his wife's forehead, kisses her cheek, then wraps his arms
under and around her. He holds her tight, kisses her again.
Tracy stirs.

         TRACY
      Honey?

Mills runs his fingers along her face.

         MILLS
      I love you.

Mills holds her tighter. She wraps her arms around him. They
lie together, clinging, holding tighter still.

INT. MILLS' APARTMENT BUILDING/STREET -- NIGHT

Through the window of the apartment, we can see Tracy and Mills
on the bed. CAMERA MOVES from this window, to the street.

CAMERA CONTINUES down the night street, to a car far from Mills'
building. Inside the car, John Doe sits, looking up at Mills'
window. Doe looks as plain as white bread. He adjusts his thick
glasses, sips from a coffee cup.

INT. SOMERSET'S APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- NIGHT

Somerset is in bed. The metronome is sounding; tick... tick...
tick... The SOUNDS of the CITY are LOUD.

Somerset closes his eyes, concentrating on the metronome.
Tick... tick... tick... TWO MEN are HEARD from outside, YELLING
at each other. Somerset rolls over, restless. Tick... tick...
tick...

GLASS is HEARD SHATTERING. Somerset opens his eyes. MORE GLASS,
bottles being smashed. Somerset sits up. He reaches over, grabs
the metronome and throws it against the wall.

INT. SOMERSET'S APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATER NIGHT

THWACK. Somerset's switchblade hits the dartboard on the wall
and the blade embeds.

Somerset crosses the room, still dressed for bed. He is tense.
He takes the switchblade from the dartboard, paces back across
the room, turns, holds the blade, then throws. The blade sticks.

Somerset paces back to the dartboard, pulls the blade, paces
back, throws the knife. THWACK. He goes to the board, gets the
blade, paces, turns, throws. THWACK.

INSERT -- TITLE CARD

SATURDAY

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- DAY

A clock on the wall says 12:30.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- DAY

Three deputy detectives are reading John Doe's notebooks. PHONE
RINGS from the other room.

INT. JOHN DOE'S APARMENT, MAIN ROOM -- DAY

One deputy enters. He goes to the phone near the bed. The
phone's been hooked into recording device with a speaker and
tracing equipment. The deputy turns everything on, answers.

         JOHN DOE (v.o.)
       (through speaker)
      I've gone and done it again.

INT. LUXURY APARTMENT, BATHROOM -- DAY

Somerset is looking around this femininely decorated bathroom
with a forensic, GIL. Both wear rubber gloves.

At the sink, objects covered in blood: a pair of scissors, a
hypodermic needle, first-aid tape and gauze bandages, a bottle of
anesthetic, a straight razor and a tube of super glue.

         GIL
      He really did a number on her, didn't he?

Gil opens the plastic shower curtain and looks into the tub. The
tub and shower wall are splattered with blood. The tub has a few
inches of water in it. The water is cloudy red. A few bits of
tape and gauze float in it. Gil jiggles the drain's knob. Some
bubbles pop up from the clogged drain.

INT. LUXURY APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- DAY

PRIDE is written in lipstick on a full length mirror. Below
that: I DID NOT KILL HER. SHE WAS GIVEN A CHOICE.

Mills and Dr. O'Neill are in the room. O'Neill goes through his
black bag. They're by a bed where a WOMAN lies dead under a
blanket. The woman's head is sloppily bandaged with heavy white
gauze and tape. The gauze is stained by spots of blood. Only
the eyes and mouth have been left uncovered. A zoo's worth of
stuffed animals have been placed across the bed. The woman holds
a stuffed unicorn.

Somerset enters from the bathroom as Mills reaches to take the
unicorn from the woman's grasp. There is a cordless phone in her
left hand, and her and clings to it.

Her right hand holds a bottle of prescription pills. Mills tries
to open the fingers of this hand with a tongue depressor, but
they are super-glued to the bottle. Mills turns the woman's hand
slightly so two red pills roll out onto the blanket.

         SOMERSET
      Sleeping pills.

Mills examines the left hand. The phone is glued into it.

O'Neill steps up, holding a thin pair of silver scissors. He
leans to slide the scissors under the woman's bandage mask,
starts cutting.

Somerset goes to a dresser where the woman's purse sits open. He
takes out the driver's license and looks at the photo. The woman
in the picture is stunningly beautiful.

         SOMERSET
      You see what he did?

Mills is watching the doctor work.

         MILLS
      He cut her up and dressed the wounds.

         SOMERSET
       (holds up his left hand)
      Call for help, and you'll live. But,
      you'll be disfigured.
       (raises right hand)
      Or, put yourself out of your misery.

O'Neill removes the bandages. Mills looks away. We do not see.
O'Neill looks to the detectives.

         O'NEILL
      He cut off her nose to spite her face, and
      he did it very recently.

EXT. CITY STREET -- DAY

Mills' car pulls up in front of the precinct house. Mills and
Somerset get out. They wade through cars towards the old
precinct house building.

         SOMERSET
      I've decided to stay on this, till it's
      over. Till it's either done or we can both
      see it's never going to finish.

Mills remains impassive.

         MILLS
      Oh, you want to stay now?

         SOMERSET
      One of two things will happen. We're
      either going to get John Doe, or he'll
      finish his series of seven, and this case
      will go on for years.

         MILLS
      You think you're doing me a big favor by
      staying?

         SOMERSET
      I'm requesting you keep me on as your
      partner a few more days. You'd be doing me
      the favor.

Mills walks on.

         MILLS
      You knew I'd say yes.

         SOMERSET
      No, actually, I wasn't sure at all.

Somerset and Mills climb the steps of the precinct house.
Behind them, in the street, John Doe's car pulls up and parks.

Cars behind begin BEEPING. People behind begin cursing and
screaming for him to move.

John Doe steps out, his brown work boots, pants and shirttails
are splattered with blood.

He walks towards the precinct house, hands in his pockets, like
he's out for a stroll. People on the sidewalk stop on seeing
him, avoid him.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, RECEIVING LOBBY -- DAY

Mills and Somerset walk past booking cubicles and benches of
handcuffed low-lifes. Junkies are being led through by uniformed
cops. The place is swimming with activity. The two detectives
head to the wide duty desk at the end of the room.

         SOMERSET
      As soon as this is over, I'm gone.

         MILLS
      Big surprise.

They pass through a gate and Somerset goes towards a staircase
leading upstairs. Mills stops at the duty desk. Other cops are
vying for the DUTY SERGEANT'S attention.

         MILLS
      Mills and Somerset are on the premises.

         SERGEANT
      Wonder-fucking-ful.

Another PLAIN CLOTHES COP behind the duty desk leans over to hold
out a few phone-message note to Mills.

         PLAIN CLOTHES COP
      Your wife called this morning. Do us a
      favor and get yourself an answering
      machine, how bout it?

Mills nods and wave dismissively, pocketing the messages without
looking at them and walking to follow Somerset.

         JOHN DOE (o.s.)
      Detective.

Mills heads toward the stairs.

         JOHN DOE (o.s.)
      Detective!

Mills looks back... stops.

John Doe stands inside the precinct house doors. He gives a very
slight smile.

         JOHN DOE
      I know you.

Somerset stops, looks back down the stairs.

Mills is staring at Doe, not comprehending.

Doe holds up his arms as if to say, "Presto, here I am." All
eyes go to the blood-soaked figure of John Doe. There comes a
sudden, near-silence in the room.

One UNIFORMED COP takes out his gun, points it at John Doe.

         UNIFORMED COP
      It's him!

Several other cops drop what they're doing and draw weapons.

Mills, still off balance, takes out his own gun, walking back
through the gate. He points the gun at John Doe.

         MILLS
      Get down. Get down on the floor.

Cops move slowly in on Doe from all sides.

         ANOTHER COP
      You heard him, fuckface. Get down!

Somerset comes back through the gate.

         SOMERSET
      Be careful!

John Doe gets down on his knees, hands in the air. Mills, pulse
pounding, steps up, gun in both hands. Not too close.

         MILLS
      Down! Face on the floor!

ONE COP comes from behind and nudges Doe with his foot.

         ONE COP
      Spread your legs and get your hands out in
      front of you!

John Doe lies on his stomach, obeying. Mills comes up and puts
his gun right against Doe's head.

         MILLS
      Don't move. Don't move an inch.

One cop begins frisking Doe. Another comes to put on cuffs.

Somerset comes to Mills' side.

         SOMERSET
      I don't believe it.

         JOHN DOE
       (to Somerset)
      Hello.

The cop putting on the handcuffs looks up at Somerset and Mills.

         COP
      What the fuck is this... ?

The cop holds up Doe's cuffed hands. Doe winces. Every single
one of Doe's fingers has a bandage wrapped around it.

John Doe tries to muster a smile, his face pressed against the
floor, glasses askew, gun at his temple.

         JOHN DOE
       (to Mills)
      I want to speak to my lawyer.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, OBSERVATION ROOM -- DAY

Mills holds a fingerprint card. The black ink prints are just
useless blobs, smeared with blood.

Mills, Somerset and the Captain stand in darkness. Mills looks
up from the print card through a two-way mirror into an
interrogation room.

In the interrogation room, John Doe sits, handcuffed to the wall.
This is not some superhuman serial killer.

He looks more like an eccentric college professor, not seething
with anger, but looking around with calm, almost lazy eyes. The
lawyer, MARK SWARR, sits taking notes and talking with Doe.

         CAPTAIN
      He cuts off the skin if his fingertips.
      That's why we can't find a single usable
      print in the apartment. He's been doing it
      for quite a while. Keeps cutting before
      the papillary line can grow back.

         MILLS
      What about the trace on his bank account
      and the guns? There must be something to
      connect him with a past.

         CAPTAIN
      So far it's all dead ends. No credit
      history. No employment history. His bank
      account's only five years old and it
      started as cash. We're even trying to
      trace his furniture, but for now all we
      know is he's independently wealth, well
      educated and totally insane. We may never
      know how he got that way.

         SOMERSET
      Because he is John Doe, by choice.

         MILLS
      When do we get to question him?

         CAPTAIN
      You don't. It goes to court now.

         MILLS
      He wouldn't just turn himself in. It
      doesn't make any sense.

Somerset moves from the window, crossing the room to sit.

         CAPTAIN
      Well, there he sits. It's not supposed to
      make sense.

         SOMERSET
      He's not finished.

         MILLS
      He's pissing in our faces again and we're
      just taking it.

         CAPTAIN
      You're wound too tight, Mills. Let it go.

The captain walks. Mills is furious. He presses his fingers
against the two-way-mirror, pushes to crack his knuckles loudly.

         MILLS
       (to Somerset)
      You know he's fucking us.

         SOMERSET
      You and I are, probably for the first time
      ever, in total agreement. He wouldn't just
      stop.

         MILLS
      Well... what the fuck, man?

         SOMERSET
      He's only two murders away from finishing
      his masterpiece, right? Can you even
      conceive of what's going to happen next? I
      mean, can you even imagine how he'll try to
      finish it?

Mills looks in at John Doe. Somerset comes to stand beside.

         MILLS
      No.

         SOMERSET
      I can tell you this. I recognize his
      lawyer. His name's Mark Swarr.

Mills looks at Somerset.

         SOMERSET
      He's the one who got Victor out.
       (pause)
      We'll wait for John Doe's plea.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY

Mills is at the desk, feet up. He stares at the blackboard.

1 gluttony (x) 5 wrath
2 greed (x)       6 pride (x)
3 sloth (x)       7 lust (x)
4 envy

Clock on the wall says 4:45. Somerset is packing books into
boxes, preparing for his eventual departure.

The captain steps into the office and clears his throat, looking
like there is something making him very unhappy.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, CAPTAIN'S OFFICE -- DAY

Mills and Somerset stand together. The captain is behind his
desk with Martin Talbot, the D.A., seated in front of him. Mark
Swarr is addressing them all, seems nervous but in control.

         SWARR
      My client says there are two more bodies...
      two more victims, hidden away. He will
      take Detectives Mills and Somerset to these
      bodies, but only Detectives Mills and
      Somerset. Only at six o'clock today.

Talbot wipes his moist brow with a handkerchief.

         TALBOT
      Oh, Christ.

         MILLS
      Why us?

         SWARR
      He says he admires you.

         SOMERSET
       (to captain)
      This is all part of his game plan.

         SWARR
      My client claims that if the detectives do
      not accept this offer, these two bodies
      will never be found.

         CAPTAIN
      Frankly, counselor, I'm inclined to let
      them rot.

         TALBOT
      We don't make deals, Mr. Swarr.

Mills gets in Swarr's face.

         MILLS
      How is it working for a scumbag like this?
      You proud of yourself?

         CAPTAIN
      Ease back, Mills.

         SWARR
      I'm required by law to serve my clients to
      the best of my ability, and to serve their
      best interests.

Mills back off.

         CAPTAIN
      Well, we're going to have to pass.

         SWARR
      My client... he also wishes to inform you,
      if you do not accept, he will plead
      insanity, across the board.

         TALBOT
       (to no one in particular)
      Let him try! I'd like to see him try!

         SWARR
      Come now, Martin. We all know, with the
      extreme nature of these crimes, I could get
      him off with such a plea.

Talbot considers this, wringing the handkerchief in his hands.
Mills looks at Somerset. Somerset looks at him.

         TALBOT
      I'm not letting this conviction slide, I
      can tell you that right here and right now!

         SWARR
      He says, if you accept, under his specific
      conditions, he will sign a full confession
      and plead guilty... right here, right now.

Talbot glares at Swarr.

         CAPTAIN
       (to Mills)
      What do you think?

         MILLS
      I'm in.

         SWARR
      It has to be both of you.

         SOMERSET
      If he were to claim insanity, this
      conversation is admissible. The fact that
      he's blackmailing us with his plea...

         SWARR
      And, my client reminds you, two more are
      dead. The press would have a field day if
      they found out the police didn't seem too
      concerned about finding them... giving them
      a proper burial.

         SOMERSET
      If there really are two more dead.

The captain picks up a sheet from his desk.

         CAPTAIN
      The lab report came up from downtown, They
      did a quickie on Doe's clothing and
      fingernails. They found blood from Doe,
      from him cutting his own fingers... there
      was blood from the woman whose face he cut
      off, and blood from a third party. As yet
      unidentified.

         TALBOT
       (to Somerset)
      You would be escorting an unarmed man.

Somerset thinks it over. He looks to Mills.

         MILLS
      Let's finish it.

Somerset looks at the floor, then at Swarr.

         SOMERSET
       (to the captain)
      Well... get the fucking lawyer out of the
      room and we can talk about how this whole
      thing's going to go down.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, BATHROOM/LOCKER ROOM -- DAY

Somerset's hand reaches to the sink to pick up a razor.

Somerset and Mills are at the sinks, looking at themselves in
mirrors, shirtless. They have shaving cream spread across their
chests. Somerset flicks his cigarette in the sink, then brings
the razor up to start shaving the hair off his chest. Mills is
already doing the same.

         SOMERSET
      If John Doe's head splits open and a U.F.O.
      flies out, I want you to have expected it.

         MILLS
      I will.

They continue shaving.

         MILLS
      If I were to accidentally cut off one of my
      nipple, would that be covered by workman's
      compensation?

Somerset smiles just slightly.

         SOMERSET
      I suppose so.
       (pause)
      If you were man enough to actually file the
      claim, I'd buy you a new one out of my own
      pocket.

Mills finishes shaving, washes and wipes his chest off with a
towel. He turns dead serious.

         MILLS
      Listen, Somerset... I uh...

Mills pauses, sighs. Somerset stops shaving and looks at him.

         SOMERSET
      What is it?

         MILLS
      Well, I have to tell you...
       (pause)
      I think I've fallen in love with you.

         SOMERSET
       (shakes his head)
      Slut.

         MILLS
       (laughs, walking out)
      Kiss me on the lips.

         SOMERSET
       (still shaving)
      Give me a break.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, READY ROOM -- DAY

Somerset and Mills have their shirts open. A female technician
tapes a small radio transmitter and microphone to Mills' chest.
Somerset is already wired up, pressing the adhesive to make sure
it'll hold.

The technician finishes prepping Mills. Somerset buttons up his
shirt. The technician packs up her kit, leaving. The room is
quiet. Somerset picks up his bullet-proof vest, slides into it.

Mills looks at his watch. He puts on his own vest, fastening it
tight. He looks at Somerset.

Somerset takes out a roll of antacids and pops a few.

Mills holds out his hand and waits for an antacid. Somerset
looks at him, flicks a few into Mills' palm. Mills chews them.

         SOMERSET
      Stay as cold as ice.

Somerset picks up his gun off a chair. Mills picks up his gun.
They both check them out and close them up. They lay the guns in
holsters at the small of their backs.

They look at each other. Somerset holds out his hand. Mills
shakes it.

INT. CITY STREET, PRECINCT HOUSE FRONT -- DAY

The street is full of shadows as the sun is falling low. At the
front of the precinct house, a throng of reporters shifts
anxiously. A line of policemen holds them back.

Martin Talbot steps out of the precinct house, cops on either
side of him. The press swarm lurches forward, flashbulbs
exploding. Talbot holds out his hands, preparing to speak.

EXT. CITY STREET, PRECINCT HOUSE REAR -- DAY

At the rear of the precinct house, Somerset's car pulls out of
the fenced in parking lot. The car speeds up on the street and
turns a corner, heading into the grim city.

EXT. SKYSCRAPER ROOFTOP -- DAY

California is dressed in full battle gear, looking through
binoculars to the city below. The wind blows hard.

A PILOT, holding two helmets, comes up behind California. A
sleek police helicopter sits on the roof's helipad.

         CALIFORNIA
      Is this wind going to hurt us?

         PILOT
      Just makes the ride more fun.

The cocky pilot grins.

INT. SOMERSET'S CAR -- DAY

Somerset is at the wheel. Mills is in the passenger's seat,
looking back at John Doe through protective wire mesh. Doe's in
the back seat. His handcuffs are attached to ankle cuffs by a
length of chain. He is dressed in gray pants and a gray shirt,
looking out the window, sweaty but placid.

         SOMERSET
      Who are you, John? Who are you really?

John Doe looks to Somerset's eyes in the rearview mirror.

         JOHN DOE
      What do you mean?

         SOMERSET
      I mean, at this point, what would it hurt
      if you told us a little about yourself?

         JOHN DOE
       (pause)
      It doesn't matter who I am. Who I am means
      absolutely nothing.
       (looking out, to Somerset)
      You need to turn left here... at the
      traffic light.

         MILLS
      Where we headed?

         JOHN DOE
      You'll see.

Mills looks at Doe for a long time in silence.

         MILLS
      We're not just going to pick up two more
      bodies, are we, Johnny? That wouldn't
      be... shocking enough. Wouldn't keep you
      on the front page of the newspapers.

         JOHN DOE
      Wanting people to pay attention, you can't
      just tap them on the shoulder. You have to
      hit them in the head with a sledgehammer.
      Then, you have their strict attention.

         MILLS
      What makes you so special that people
      should pay attention?

         JOHN DOE
      Not me. I'm not special. I'm not
      exceptional.
       (pause)
      This is, though. What I'm doing.

         MILLS
      I hate to burst your bubble, but other than
      the fact that you're especially sadistic,
      there's nothing unusual about these
      precious murders of yours.

         JOHN DOE
      You know that's not true.

         MILLS
      In two months, no one's going to even
      remember this happened.

Doe looks down for a moment, then looks up, almost shyly.

         JOHN DOE
      You can't see the whole... the whole
      complete act yet. Not yet. But, when this
      is done, it's going to be... so... so...

         MILLS
      Spit it out.

         JOHN DOE
      It's going to be flawless. People will
      barely be able to comprehend it. It will
      seem almost surreal... but it will have a
      tangible reality, so they won't be able to
      deny it.

Doe looks down, licking his lips. He clenches his hands into
fists, digging his bandaged fingertips into his sweaty palms.

         JOHN DOE
      I can't wait for you to see. I can't
      wait...
       (pause, looks to Mills)
      It's really going to be something.

         MILLS
      Well, I'll be standing beside you the
      whole time, so you be sure to let me know
      when this whole, complete reality thing is
      done. Wouldn't want to miss it.

         JOHN DOE
      Oh, don't worry. You won't...

INT, POLICE HELICOPTER -- DAY

The helicopter is in flight above the city. California is
strapped in, hanging out the door. He holds a high powered
automatic rifle, wears goggles and a helmet/headset.

         JOHN DOE (v.o.)
       (through headset)
      ... you won't miss a thing.

Two other armed cops sit in the belly of the chopper. California
leans in and looks up towards the pilot.

         CALIFORNIA
       (into helmet microphone)
      Head over the bridge and keep them in
      sight. Just keep your distance.

The pilot looks back and nods.

EXT. CITY SKY -- DAY

The chopper dips, flying like a bullet over the polluted city,
heading towards the setting sun.

EXT. CITY STREETS -- DAY

Somerset's car moves along a highway at river's edge. Heading
for a huge suspension bridge filled with speeding traffic ahead.

INT. SOMERSET'S CAR -- DAY

John Doe has his head against the window, looking up at the
bridge, excited. He sits back, glances out the back window, then
faces front, bites his lip, fidgety, like a kid on Christmas Eve.

Somerset's watching him through the rearview mirror.

         SOMERSET
      What's so exciting?

         JOHN DOE
      It's not too far away now.


       [page 106. missing from script]


         JOHN DOE
       (long pause)
      I... I doubt I enjoyed it any more than...
      Detective Mills would enjoy some time alone
      with me in a room without windows.
       (looks to Mills)
      Isn't that true? How happy would it make
      you to hurt me, with impunity?

         MILLS
       (coy mocking)
      Now... I wouldn't do something like that,
      Johnny. I like you. I like you a lot.

         JOHN DOE
      You wouldn't because you know there are
      consequences. It's in those eyes of yours,
      though... nothing wrong with a man taking
      pleasure in his work.
       (pause, shakes his head)
      I won't deny my own personal desire to turn
      each sin against the sinner. I only took
      their sins to logical conclusions.

         MILLS
      You only killed a bunch of innocent people
      so you could get your rocks off. That's
      all.

         JOHN DOE
      Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny?
      Look at the people I killed. An obese man,
      a disgusting man who could barely stand
      up... who if you saw him on the street,
      you'd point so your friends could mock him
      along with you. Who if you saw him while
      you were eating, you wouldn't be able to
      finish your meal. After him I picked the
      lawyer. And, you both must have been
      secretly thanking me for that one. This
      was a man who dedicated his life to making
      money by lying with every breath he could
      muster... to keeping rapists and murderers
      on the streets.

         MILLS
      Murderers?

         JOHN DOE
       (ignoring)
      A woman...

         MILLS
      Murderers like you?

         JOHN DOE
       (ignoring, louder)
      A woman... so ugly on the inside that she
      couldn't bare to go on living if she
      couldn't be beautiful on the outside. A
      drug dealer... a drug dealing pederast,
      actually.
       (laughs at that one)
      And, don't forget the disease spreading
      whore. Only in a world this shitty could
      you even try to say these were innocent
      people and keep a straight face.
       (getting worked up)
      That's the point. You see a deadly sin on
      almost every street corner, and in every
      home, literally. And we tolerate it.
      Because it's common, it seems trivial, and
      we tolerate, all day long, morning, noon
      and night. Not anymore. I'm setting the
      example, and it's going to be puzzled over
      and studied and followed, from now on.


         MILLS
      Delusions of grandeur.

         JOHN DOE
      You should be thanking me.

         MILLS
      And, why is that?

         JOHN DOE
      You're going to be remembered, and it's all
      because of me. And, the only reason I'm
      here right now is because I wanted to be.

         MILLS
      We would have gotten you eventually.

         JOHN DOE
      Really? Just biding your time, then?
      Toying with me. Is that it? Letting five
      people die until you finally felt like
      going out and hauling me in?

Doe sits forward, slowly getting to Mills.

         JOHN DOE
       (angrily)
      Tell me what it was that gave me away.
      What was the piece of evidence you were
      going to use against me right before I
      walked up to YOU and put my hands in the
      air.

         MILLS
      I seem to remember knocking on your
      door.

         JOHN DOE
      And, I remember breaking your nose.
       (leans further forward)
      You're only alive because I didn't
      kill you.

         MILLS
      Sit back.

John Doe doesn't sit back, staying very close to the wire mesh.

         JOHN DOE
      I spared you, and you're going to have to
      remember that every time you look in the
      mirror at that nose on your face for the
      rest of your life. Or, I should say, for
      the rest of what life I've allowed you to
      have.

Mills slams his fist against the mesh, fed up, furious.

         MILLS
      I said, sit back, freak. Sit back and shut
      your fucking mouth!

Die sits back, taking a deep breath and letting it out.

In the front seat, Somerset shoots a concerned glance at Mills,
then looks up into the rearview mirror.

IN THE MIRROR: Doe, calm, gives Somerset a smile.

Doe then turns his attention back out the passenger window,
watching the world pass by, his face pressed to the glass.

Mills sits forward in his seat, letting his anger come down. Doe
keeps staring out the window. A long pause.

         JOHN DOE
      Don't ask me to pity the people I killed.
      I don't mourn them anymore than I mourn the
      thousands who died in Sodom and Gomorrah.

Mills almost lets this pass, but can't. Blunted anger:

         MILLS
      You fuck. You really think what you did
      was God's good work?

Pause. John Doe is pressing his forefinger into the tip of his
thumb, causing blood to drip from under the bandage.

         JOHN DOE
      The Lord works in mysterious ways.

EXT. SKY -- EARLY EVENING

The helicopter flies over huge, blackened industrial parks, past
smokestacks spewing soot. The sky is turning crimson.

INT. POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

California leans way out looking back at the city.

EXT. INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

Somerset's car comes down this rocky, deserted strip, towards the
industrial parks. The car tosses dirt into the air where it is
captured on the wind.

EXT. SKY -- EARLY EVENING

The chopper roars, low, close to the stretch of industrial road.
This is the only road through vast swampy fields. The industrial
parks are far behind.

INT. POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

California still leans out, gun poised, looks over the fields.

         CALIFORNIA
      There ain't no ambush out here. There
      ain't no fucking nothing out here.

         PILOT (v.o.)
       (through headset)
      We got about two minutes before they come
      up behind us.

         CALIFORNIA
      Go high. Way up. In sixty seconds, cut to
      the west.

EXT. SKY -- EARLY EVENING

The chopper climbs, really moving.

EXT. INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

Somerset's car comes down the road, surrounded by marshlands.

The car slows, then stops. Mills gets out and goes to extract
Doe. Somerset gets out, looking east to the industrial parks and
city beyond. The sky is darkening.

Somerset walks and looks to the west. The sky is red. Very far
away, a passenger train moves towards the hidden sun.

Somerset watches the train, walking to the edge of the roadway.
He looks down and steps back from what he sees.

A dead dog lies in the weeds, old and moldering.

Somerset turns to the car, where John Doe stands with Mills. Doe
points with his cuffed hands to the dog, grins.

         JOHN DOE
      I didn't do that.

EXT. MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING

The wind howls, pounding on John Doe as he walks through the
swampy field. He walks slowly, encumbered by the deep muck and
by the short chain between his ankles. Mills is with Doe,
disgusted by the ooze covering his shoes and pants cuffs. He
looks ahead, cautious. Somerset walks behind them.

Doe keeps looking back towards the car on the industrial road.

         MILLS
      What are you looking for?

Doe looks forward.

         JOHN DOE
      What time is it?

         SOMERSET
      Why?

Somerset looks at his watch. It's one minutes after seven.

         JOHN DOE
      I want to know.

Mills gives Doe a shove.

Somerset looks back towards the industrial road, worried.

         MILLS
      Just keep leading the way.

         JOHN DOE
      It's close.

         SOMERSET
      Mills!

Mills and Doe look back at Somerset. Somerset is facing the
industrial road, pointing. A van is coming, dust flying.

Somerset looks at Mills. Mills looks at Somerset. They take out
their guns. Somerset starts towards the road.

         SOMERSET
      Stay with him.

         MILLS
      Wait!

         SOMERSET
      There's no time to discuss it!

Somerset runs to head off the van.

John Doe begins walking to follow Somerset.

         JOHN DOE
      There he goes.

Mills levels his gun at John Doe's head.

EXT. MARSHLANDS, NEAR INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

Somerset runs, breathing hard, opening the top of his
bullet-proof vest to speak into his hidden microphone.

         SOMERSET
      There's a van... coming down the industrial
      road. Coming from the east.

INT. POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

The chopper is circling in the air, far from the marshlands with
the sun behind it. Another cop is in the hatchway beside
California, looking through binoculars.

         SOMERSET (v.o.)
       (from headset)
      The van is coming form the east. I don't
      know what it is. Come around. Come
      around.

EXT. MARSHLANDS, NEAR INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

Somerset continues, charging through the mire.

         SOMERSET
      Just get ready for anything and wait for my
      signal. Wait for me.

EXT. MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING

Mills keeps the gun on John Doe, watches Somerset far off.

         JOHN DOE
      It's good we have some time to talk.

Doe starts walking again.

         MILLS
      Get down. Get down on your knees!

Mills grabs Doe and pushes Doe's knees out with his foot, making
Doe kneel in the brown water.

Mills positions himself behind Doe so that Doe is between him and
the road. Now, Mills can keep the gun on Mills and still watch
Somerset.

EXT. MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

Somerset comes up on the road, near his car. He signals for the
van to stop, then fires a warning shot in the air. The van is
about one hundred yards away, still coming.

Somerset walks towards it, breathless, pointing his gun.

         SOMERSET
      Stop the van! Stop!

The van brakes, wheels sliding on the loose roadway. Stops.
Somerset moves up to it, staying about ten feet away.

         SOMERSET
      Get out! Get out with your hands on your
      head! Do it now!

The driver of the van, a DELIVERYMAN, pushes the door open and
slides out, slow, takes off his sunglasses.

         DELIVERYMAN
      Jesus Christ, man, don't shoot me!

         SOMERSET
      Turn around. Hands on your head!

         DELIVERYMAN
      What the hell's going on?

         SOMERSET
      Who are you? What are you doing out here?

         DELIVERYMAN
      I'm... I'm just delivering a package.

INT. POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

California listens as the chopper spins over industrial parks.

         DELIVERYMAN (v.o.)
       (through headset)
      It's just a package for this guy... David.
      Detective David Mills.

         CALIFORNIA
      Motherfucker.

The pilot looks back at California.

         PILOT
      Let's do it.

         CALIFORNIA
      No! Wait for Somerset!

EXT. MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING

Mills and Doe can see Somerset keeping his distance from the
deliveryman. The deliveryman moves to the back of the van and
opens the van's rear door.

         JOHN DOE
      When I said I admired you... I meant what I
      said. I do admire you.

Mills keeps his eyes on the van, but steps up to place his gun at
the back of Doe's head. Pulls the hammer back.

         MILLS
      Shut up.

EXT. MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

The deliveryman takes a brown package, about a foot square, from
the van.

         DELIVERYMAN
      This guy paid me five hundred bucks to
      bring it out here. He wanted it here at
      exactly seven o'clock.

         SOMERSET
      Put it down. Put it on the ground.

         DELIVERYMAN
      Okay...

He puts it on the road and backs away, holding up his hands.

Somerset glances into the field to see Doe on his knees with
Mills behind him. Somerset looks at the package. Written on
top: DETECTIVE DAVID MILLS -- HANDLE WITH CARE.

         SOMERSET
       (to deliveryman)
      Go. Get out of here!

The deliveryman backs off, then scrambles into the van. Somerset
pulls back his bullet-proof vest and speaks into the mic.

         SOMERSET
      There's a package here. It's from John Doe.

The van tears away. Somerset doesn't know what to do. He walks
around the package, reholsters his gun.

         SOMERSET
      I don't know... I don't know...

He looks out towards Doe and Mills.

INT. HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

California waits, listening, looking into the blood-red sky.

         SOMERSET (.o.)
       (through headset)
      I'm going to have to open it.

EXT. MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING

Mills watches Somerset kneel beside the package on the road.

         JOHN DOE
      I wish I could have been a normal man like
      you. I wish I could have a simple life.

         MILLS
      What the fuck is going on here?!

EXT. MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

Somerset pulls his switchblade, clicks it open.

He cuts across the top of the box, hands shaking, cuts quickly.
He pulls the box open, pulls at some bubble-wrap inside.

INT. POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

The pilot grits his teeth.

         PILOT
       (into helmet mic)
      Let's go!

         CALIFORNIA
      We are going to wait!

California listens.

         SOMERSET (v.o.)
       (through headset)
      Oh, Christ... oh Christ...

EXT. MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

Somerset stumbles backwards, away from the open box. He is white
as a sheet, eyes filled with numb fear. He leans against his car
for support, wretches, sick, holds the back of his hand to his
mouth.

         SOMERSET
      No...

EXT. MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING

Mills is watching Somerset, grabs John Doe by the shirt.

         MILLS
      Get up. Stand up! Let's go!

Doe stands, tries to walk. Mills is walking quickly, towards
Somerset. Doe can't keep up.

         JOHN DOE
      You've made a good life for yourself...

         MILLS
      Shut up!

Doe falls and Mills starts dragging him through the reeds.

EXT. MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

Somerset wipes saliva from his lips and tears from his eyes. He
takes a deep breath, looks to see Mills dragging Doe.

         SOMERSET
      Oh, fuck, no...

Somerset straightens, tries to pull himself together. He
swallows, draws his gun.

         SOMERSET
       (into hidden mic)
      Listen... listen to me. Whatever you do...
      don't come in here. Stay away. No matter
      what you hear, do not move in!
       (starts towards Mills)
      John Doe has the upper hand.

Somerset picks up his switchblade and flips the blade back in.
He enters the marsh.

EXT. MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING

Mills sees Somerset coming and pulls Doe so that Doe stands.

         JOHN DOE
       (quietly, watching)
      Here he comes.

         MILLS
       (shouts to Somerset)
      What the fuck is going on?

         JOHN DOE
       (to Mills)
      I want you to know, I wish I could have
      lived like you do.

Somerset starts running towards Mills, mud splattering.

         SOMERSET
      Mills... put down your gun! Throw it away!

Mills leaves Doe behind, walks towards Somerset, gun down.

         MILLS
      What?

Somerset is fifty yards away and closing.

         SOMERSET
      Throw your gun down now!

         MILLS
      What are you talking about? What happened?

         JOHN DOE
      Are you listening to me, Detective Mills?
      I'm trying to tell you how much I admire
      you... and your pretty wife Tracy.

Mills freezes, turns to Doe. Doe smiles. Somerset is close.

         SOMERSET
      Throw your weapon, detective! Now!

         MILLS
       (to John Doe)
      What did you say?

         JOHN DOE
      It's surprising how easily a member of the
      press can purchase information from the men
      in your precinct.

         SOMERSET
      David... please...

         JOHN DOE
      I visited your home this morning, after you
      left.

Mills is filled with an aching terror.

         JOHN DOE
      I tried to play husband... tried to taste
      the life of a simple man, but it didn't
      work out. So, I took a souvenir.

Mills turns to look at Somerset with pleading eyes. Somerset
holds out his hand.

         SOMERSET
      Give me the gun.

         JOHN DOE
      Her pretty head.

         MILLS
      Somerset...

         JOHN DOE
      Because I envy your normal life. Envy is
      my sin.

Somerset can't hold back tears.

Fury rises in Mill and he turns to level his gun at John Doe.

Somerset raises his gun and points it at Mills.

         SOMERSET
      No!

Mills sees Somerset's gun, raises his gun to Somerset.

         MILLS
      Tell me it's not true.

         SOMERSET
      I can't let you do this...

Mills steps forward, enraged.

         MILLS
      Put your gun down!!

         SOMERSET
      Don't do this... please...

         MILLS
      Put the gun down, Somerset!

A pause. Somerset's gun hand is trembling. The wind whips
across them. The HELICOPTER can be HEARD distantly. Somerset
throws his gun down.

         SOMERSET
      David, listen to me...

Mills goes to grab John Doe by the throat and puts the gun to
Doe's forehead, blind with rage.

Somerset holds his hand behind his back, opens his switchblade.

         SOMERSET
      He wants this! He wants you to do it!

Doe is staring into Mills' eyes with wild expectation.

         JOHN DOE
      Kill me.

Doe lowers his head, waiting for execution.

Mills holds the gun at Doe's head, undecided, furious.

Somerset edges towards them.

         MILLS
       (looks to Somerset)
      Stop it! You stay away!

Somerset moves the switchblade so he's holding it by the blade,
ready to throw, keeping it hidden.

         SOMERSET
      I can't let you do this!

Mills kicks Doe and throws him backwards on the ground. The
HELICOPTER is CLOSER.

Mills stands over Doe and points the gun.

         JOHN DOE
      She begged for her life, and for the life
      of your baby inside her.

Mills' face fills with confusion -- then a wave of horror.

Doe's eyes register shock.

         JOHN DOE
      You didn't know.

         SOMERSET
      NO!

Somerset brings his hand out to throw the blade, but Mills reacts
to the movement, turns on Somerset and fires -- BLAM!

Somerset flies backwards in the air, bullet exploding into his
shoulder, just above the bullet-proof vest's opening.

Somerset hits the ground, crying out, bloody, writhing.

Mills turns the gun on John Doe.

INT. POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

The chopper is over the marshland. California is leaning out
with his rifle. He cringes from the sounds as FROM HIS HEADSET
is HEARD: BLAM -- BLAM -- BLAM -- BLAM -- BLAM.

INSERT -- TITLE CARD

TWO WEEKS LATER

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM -- DAY

Somerset sits in a wheelchair. He is dressed in a hospital gown.
His upper chest and shoulder are wrapped in bandages. He stares
out the window at the city's buildings.

         CAPTAIN (o.s)
      Hey there, Somerset.

Somerset turns to see the captain. Somerset looks weak, older.

         SOMERSET
      Hello.

The captain walks in, carrying something behind his back.

         CAPTAIN
      How you feeling?

         SOMERSET
      I can breathe without pain now, so I guess
      I feel great.

Somerset musters a lame smile. The captain sits on the bed.

         CAPTAIN
      The guys at the precinct heard you're
      getting out today. Anyway, we all chipped
      in...

The captain takes a big tool belt full of tools from behind his
back. He hands it over. Somerset looks at it and lays it on his
lap. He smiles for real.

         SOMERSET
      Thank you. Tell them, thank you.

         CAPTAIN
      We figure you need all the tools you can
      get to fix up that piece of shit you call a
      house.

         SOMERSET
      Yeah, that's true.

Somerset continues examining the tools.

         CAPTAIN
      They're hoping you stop and say goodbye
      before you go, but I told them not to
      expect it.

         SOMERSET
       (not looking up)
      It would be too hard.

The captain stands.

         CAPTAIN
      I have to get going, but... there is one
      more thing.

Somerset looks up. The captain takes a letter from his pocket.

         CAPTAIN
      I don't know if you're going to want it.
      It was down front. It's from Mills.

Somerset pauses, then puts out his hand to take it.

         CAPTAIN
      He's being arraigned tomorrow.

         SOMERSET
      I read about it in the paper.

Somerset just looks at the letter.

         CAPTAIN
      I guess... decide for yourself. I don't
      know what it says. I'm going to go.

         SOMERSET
      I'll see you.

The captain nods and walks into the hall.

Somerset wheels back to the window. He looks at the letter.
Pause. He opens it. Unfolds the paper inside.

The note reads:
YOU WERE RIGHT. YOU WERE
RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING.

Somerset closes the note, upset.

INT. HOSPITAL, MAIN NURSES' STATION -- DAY

Somerset is in street clothes. He signs a form at the busy front
desk. A NURSE takes the form and hands Somerset a large manila
envelope.

         NURSE
      There you go, Mister Somerset.

"Mister" causes Somerset to look strangely at the nurse.

         NURSE
      Yes?

         SOMERSET
      Nothing.

EXT. HOSPITAL -- DAY

Somerset comes down the stairs, slowly, tired. He holds the
manila envelope and a small suitcase. The streets are busy with
pedestrians and traffic.

He walks down the sidewalk.

He puts down the suitcase and opens the manila envelope to look
inside. He sorts through the contents, takes out his keys and
puts them in his pocket.

He reaches in the envelope again, and takes out the square of
wallpaper with the pale, red rose on it. There is some dried
blood on the paper. Somerset lays the envelope on the ground
beside the suitcase.

He looks at the rose, tries to scratch off the blood.

He looks up, squinting from the sun, at the city bustling around
him. At the tight canyon formed by the buildings.

At the cars, buses and taxis racing in the streets.

At a man, talking to himself, who lies on the sidewalk,
surrounded by garbage.

At the people, miserable people, walking past him.

Somerset takes out the note from Mills: YOU WERE RIGHT. YOU WERE
RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING.

A father passes by, holding his young son's hand. Somerset turns
to watch them pass. The father reaches to pick the son up and
carry him in his arms. The boy laughs and holds tight.

The father hugs his son to him, kisses him on the cheek. The boy
returns the kiss with great affection.

Somerset watches them disappear in the mass of humanity. He
looks back at the two papers in his hands. He lets out a sigh.

         SOMERSET
       (to himself)
      Oh... man...

He sighs again, drained.

He puts the pale paper rose inside the note from Mills. He folds
them together.

He tears them both up, into little pieces.

EXT. PRECINCT HOUSE -- DAY

Cars roll by in the street. Cops come and go.

Somerset walks up the stairs, into the precinct house. The doors
shut behind him.

END