Scripts: Rear Window (final draft, 01/Dec/1953) - part 6
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT
Lisa, still stretched out on the divan looking at Jeff,
suddenly sits upright and then getting up from the divan,
mover over to Jeff, THE CAMERA GOING WITH her.
In a sudden surprise move, she swings his chair completely
around so that his back is to the window. He drops the
binoculars into his lap in surprise. THE CAMERA MOVES IN as
Lisa leans over Jeff, gripping both sides of his chair
LISA
(sharply)
Jeff -- if you could only see
yourself.
JEFF
Now, Lisa --
LISA
(Abruptly)
Sitting around, looking out a window
to kill time, is one thing -- but
doing it the way you are --
(She gestures)
-- with, with binoculars, and with
wild opinions about every little
movement you see -- is, is diseased!
JEFF
Do you think I consider this
recreation?
LISA
I don't know what you consider it --
but if you don't stop it, I'm getting
out of here.
JEFF
You'd better before you catch the
disease!
LISA
(Insistent)
What is it you're looking for?
JEFF
I want to find out what's wrong with
the salesman's wife. Does that make
me sound like a madman?
LISA
What makes you think something's
wrong with her?
LISA
A lot of things. She's an invalid
who needs constant care -- and yet
the husband nor anyone else has been
in there all day.
LISA
Maybe she died.
JEFF
Where's the doctor -- the undertakers?
LISA
She could be under sedatives,
sleeping.
(Looks up)
He's in the room now.
Jeff tries to turn around, but she won't let the chair move.
JEFF
Lisa, please!
LISA
There's nothing to see.
JEFF
There is -- I've seen things through
that window! Bickering, family fights,
mysterious trips at night, knives,
saws, rope -- and since last evening,
not a sight or sound of his wife!
Now you tell me where she is and
what she's doing!
LISA
Maybe he's leaving his wife. I don't
know, and I don't care. Lots of people
have saws, knives and ropes around
their houses. Lots of men don't speak
to their wives all day. Lots of wives
nag, and men hate them, and trouble
starts -- but very, very, very few
of them end up in murder -- if that's
what you're thinking.
JEFF
It's pretty hard to stay away from
that word isn't is?
LISA
You could see all the things he did,
couldn't you?
JEFF
What are you getting at?
LISA
You could see that he did because he
had the shades in his apartment up,
and walked along the corridor, and
the streets and the backyard?
JEFF
Yeah.
LISA
Jeff, do you think a murderer would
let you see all that? That he
shouldn't keep his shades down and
hide behind them?
JEFF
That's where he's being clever. Acting
nonchalant.
LISA
And that's where you're not being
clever. He wouldn't parade his crime
in front of the open shades.
She turns the wheelchair slightly to her left so that he can
see the newlyweds' apartment.
LISA
(Pointing)
For all you know -- there's something
a lot more sinister going on behind
those shades.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT
The drawn shades of the newlyweds' apartment. A dim light
burning behind them.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT
Jeff looks, turns back to her, trying to suppress a chuckle.
JEFF
No comment.
LISA
Don't you see how silly you're being?
JEFF
Okay, Lisa -- probably you're right.
He's probably in the bedroom now,
entertaining his wife with the indian
rope trick. I'll admit to criminal
insanity. Now when do I start the
cure?
Lisa half looks up and out the window. She opens her mouth
to answer, but a new look overtakes her face. It is concern,
surprise, and a little shock. Jeff sees the change, is
sobered, and quickly turns the chair around.
He looks out the window, using his binoculars.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT
The shades in the bedroom are now up. Both beds are empty,
and stripped of their linen, the mattresses thrown up over
the end of the beds. The salesman, sweating heavily, stands
over a large, square trunk in the center of the room. It is
stoutly bound by the heavy rope we previously saw him bring
into the apartment. He wipes one forearm across his brow,
and then heads for the kitchen. In the kitchen, he produces
a bottle, pours himself two or three straight drinks, then
leans with a display of exhaustion against the kitchen sink.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT
Jeff lowers the glasses. His look is sober. Lisa stands behind
him, one hand on the back of the wheelchair. She, too, is
serious. THE CAMERA MOVES IN until Lisa's head fills the
screen. She says, slowly:
LISA
Let's start from the beginning again,
Jeff. Tell me everything you saw --
and what you think it means.
She is still staring out the window, as the scene
FADES OUT:
FADE IN:
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT
Jeff is seated in the dark, his face lit by the faint glow
from the distant street. He is looking out of the window
tensely, as THE CAMERA MOVES IN, until he is in big profile.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - LONG SHOT
From Jeff's viewpoint, all the windows are dark. The couple
are sleeping on the fire escape. The salesman's apartment is
dark as well. Suddenly a match flares, and we see the salesman
light a cigar. The flame of the match illuminates his face
for a moment. When is dies out, we see just the glow of the
cigar burning.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP
The CAMERA is now facing Jeff. We see that his left hand
rests on the telephone receiver which is close to him. The
phone starts to RING, but makes only the slightest sound, as
he instantly picks it up. As he talks, in a low voice, he
keeps his eyes on the salesman's apartment.
JEFF
Yeah?
INT. PHONE BOOTH - NIGHT - CLOSEUP
We get an impression of Sixth Avenue behind Lisa at the phone.
Lisa also talks in a low, quiet voice.
LISA
The name on the second floor rear
mailbox reads Mr. And Mrs. Lars,
that's L-A-R-S, Lars Thorwald.
JEFF
(Filter)
What's the apartment house number?
LISA
125 West Ninth Street.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP
Jeff, still looks toward the salesman's apartment.
JEFF
Thanks, Lisa.
INT. PHONE BOOTH - NIGHT - CLOSEUP
Lisa smilingly says:
LISA
Okay, chief. What's my next
assignment.
JEFF
To get on home.
LISA
All right -- but what's he doing
now?
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP
Jeff is still looking toward the salesman's apartment.
JEFF
Just sitting in the living room. In
the dark. And he hasn't gone near
the bedroom. Now get some sleep.
Goodnight.
He puts the receiver down, and resumes his vigil.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - LONG SHOT
All we can see is the glow of the salesman's cigar.
FADE OUT:
FADE IN:
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT
Jeff is seated by the window in his wheelchair. He is talking
on the telephone while his eyes are still on the neighborhood.
There is a touch of urgency in his voice.
JEFF
Look, Doyle -- it's just one of those
things I can't tell you on the phone.
You have to be here, and see the
whole set-up.
The CAMERA PULLS BACK slightly as Stella emerges from the
kitchen. She is carrying a tray with breakfast on it. Eggs,
bacon, toast and coffee.
JEFF
It's probably nothing important --
just a little neighborhood murder,
that's all. As a matter of fact, I
did say "murder".
Stella squeezes past the right side of Jeff, and places the
food tray on a windowseat in front of him. She peers out
cautiously toward Thorwald's apartment for a moment. Then
she squeezes back, moving to the sideboard against which
leans a small table on an adjustable stand.
JEFF
My only thought was to throw a little
business your way. A good detective,
I reasoned, would jump at the chance
to detect.
Stella returns with the table, and sets it up so that it is
across Jeff's lap. She gets the tray of food pausing to look
toward Thorwald's apartment. Then she places the breakfast
on the tray table in front of Jeff. He has moved back a little
to avoid getting the phone cable tangled in the food and
dishes.
JEFF
Well, I usually took my best pictures
on my day off.
(nods)
Okay, Doyle -- soon as you can.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP
He hangs up. Stella takes the phone and puts it down for
him. He looks at the breakfast, reaches for a knife and fork.
JEFF
Stella, I -- I can't tell you what a
welcome sight this is. No wonder
your husband's still in love with
you.
STELLA
Police?
JEFF
(Pauses in cutting
food)
Huh?
STELLA
You called the police?
JEFF
Oh. Well, yes and no. It wasn't an
official call. He's just a friend.
(Almost to himself)
An old, ornery friend.
He begins eating, appreciatively. She moves behind his chair,
pausing to look toward Thorwald's apartment again. Jeff is
just lifting a piece of bacon to his lips when Stella speaks.
STELLA
(Half to herself)
Now just where do you suppose he cut
her up?
The hand carrying the bacon to Jeff's mouth hesitates for a
moment.
STELLA
(Answering herself)
Oh -- of course! In the bathtub.
That's the only place he could wash
away the blood.
The hand holding the bacon moves back to the plate.
Jeff just stares ahead. Stella turns and walks into the
kitchen. Jeff pushes the food away, and picks up the coffee
cup instead.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP
Jeff's eyes, over the coffee cup, are staring intently at
the backyard.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT
Thorwald's apartment. The shades up. No one moving.
The rope-tied trunk still sits in the bedroom.
To the left we see the basket lowering with the dog in it.
We HEAR the woman WHISTLING an aria.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP
His eyes stray in an upward direction as he puts down the
coffee cup.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT
The CAMERA PANS UP past the woman lowering the dog, up to
the roof where one of the sunbathers can be seen sitting up,
rubbing her body with sun tan oil.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP
Jeff's eyes moves down again. Abstractedly his hand strays
toward the piece of bacon. He picks it up.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT
Thorwald's apartment. We are now aware that the salesman is
now in his living room, lying out of sight on the sofa,
because the smoke from a newly lighted cigar is starting to
ascend toward the ceiling of his room.
Stella's voice is heard calling out from the kitchen:
STELLA'S VOICE
He'd better get that trunk out of
there before is starts to leak.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP
Again the bacon stops before is reaches Jeff's mouth.
He puts it down on the plate again, as his eyes move slightly
toward the left.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT
Miss Torso, in ballet outfit, is hanging up a small wash on
a clothes line. It consists mostly of lingerie. She is doing
her inevitable leg practice at the same time.
THE CAMERA PANS OVER SUDDENLY TO Thorwald's apartment, and
except for the smoke rising from the unseen sofa, there is
no activity.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP
Jeff seems to be getting a bit listless, or bored, by
constantly watching Thorwald's apartment. His eyes sort of
stray around the neighborhood, and end up looking toward:
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT
The newlywed's apartment. Shade down, business as usual.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP
Jeff smiles affectionately, and starts to turn his eyes away;
but something startles him, and he looks quickly back.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT
The shade suddenly going up in the newlywed's apartment.
The young husband leans his hands on the windowsill, and
looks out. He is wearing only his pajama bottoms, because of
the heat, and we see that he is a well-muscled, attractive
young man. He looks around with some satisfaction. He turns
at the sound of a woman's voice behind him.
GIRL'S VOICE
H-a-a-r-r-e-e...
He turns his head, is thoughtful for a brief moment, then he
pulls down the shade.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP
His smile almost becomes a private chuckle. Stella's abrupt
voice breaks in urgently:
STELLA'S VOICE
Look! Look -- Mr. Jefferies!
Jeff's head snaps toward the center of his window.
Stella has appeared behind his wheelchair.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT
Two men wearing tan coveralls are standing outside Thorwald's
door. One of them carries a clipboard.
Suddenly Thorwald is seen sitting up on the living room sofa.
His hair is disheveled and he is unshaved. He stands up, and
moves toward the door.
He opens it, and after a short exchange of dialogue, he admits
the two men, leaving the door open behind them.
He leads the two man across the living room to the bedroom.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP
Stella and Jeff watching intently. He is feeling down
alongside his wheelchair for his binoculars.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - BINOCULAR SHOT
A close view shows the two man carrying the trunk across the
living room toward the corridor.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP
Jeff lowers the binoculars quickly.
JEFF
(Agitated)
I thought Doyle would get here before
the trunk went -- or I'd have called
the police.
(To Stella)
Now we're going to lose it.
Stella moves toward the door quickly. Jeff turns quickly
over his shoulder to watch her. She is already going up the
steps.
JEFF
Stella, don't do anything reckless!
As Stella goes out the door, she calls back:
STELLA
I'm just going to get the name of
their truck!
JEFF
(Up)
I'll watch the alleyway -- in case
it goes that way.
We hear nothing from Stella, but the sound of her heavy tread
down the hallway stairs. Jeff returns to Thorwald. He eases
himself back into the shadows a bit and then raises his
binoculars.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - BINOCULAR SHOT
Jeff concentrates his attention on the alley-way that leads
to the street. Just normal traffic. The binoculars swing to
Thorwald apartment. The salesman is now at the telephone. He
has picked up the receiver, and proceeds to dial 221.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP
The binoculars still up to Jeff's face. Under them his mouth
moves, as if he's talking to himself.
JEFF
Long Distance.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - BINOCULAR SHOT
The salesman speaks some words to the operator. Placing the
call. As he does this, he reaches with his other hand for a
nearly bottle, and working the cork out with one hand, he
pours a stiff drink into a tumbler. He drinks it as soon as
he finishes talking with the operator.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP
Jeff lowers the binoculars a little, and takes a normal eye
sight on the alleyway.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - LONG SHOT
Pulling across to the far side of the street we see the hood
and cab of a freight truck.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP
Jeff quickly puts the glasses up.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - BINOCULAR SHOT
By the time the binoculars are up, another truck has crossed
from the left. In momentarily blocks out the side of our
freight truck. By the time the two trucks part, we can only
see the back half of the freight truck before it pulls out
of sight. Jeff is only able to read the words "FREIGHT LINES".
The binoculars are held for a moment until we see a puffing
and blowing Stella arrive at the opening of the alleyway.
She looks toward the front of Thorwald's apartment house.
And by her attitude we can see that there is no truck outside.
She looks about her for a moment.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP
Jeff lowers the binoculars, discouraged.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - LONG SHOT
The figure of Stella is seen, looking up toward Jeff's
apartment, and arms outspread in a helpless gesture.
LAP DISSOLVE TO:
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT
SHOOTING TOWARDS the big window, with the neighborhood beyond,
Jeff is as usual seated in his wheelchair on the left of the
window, but now turned toward a newcomer.
The second man is standing near the divan looking out the
window with the binoculars. This newcomer is POLICE DETECTIVE
LIEUTENANT THOMAS J. DOYLE, the man Jeff phoned earlier in
the day. He is an intelligent-appearing, well-dressed modern
detective. He has a sense of humor. He lowers the glasses,
and turns to Jeff.
DOYLE
You didn't see the killing, or the
body? How do you know there was a
murder?
JEFF
Because everything that man's done
has been suspicious. Trips at night
in the rain, saws, knives, trunks
with rope, and a wife that isn't
there any more.
DOYLE
I'll admit it all has a mysterious
sound -- but is could mean a number
of different things. Murder is the
least likely.
JEFF
Go ahead, Doyle -- tell me he's an
unemployed magician -- amusing the
neighborhood with sleight-of-hand.
Doyle paces a little.
DOYLE
It's too stupid and obvious a way to
murder -- in full view of fifty
windows -- and then sit over there --
(He points)
-- smoking a cigar -- waiting for
the police to pick him up.
JEFF
Well, officer -- do your duty.
DOYLE
You've got a lot to lean about
homicide, Jeff. Morons have committed
murder so shrewdly that it took a
hundred trained police minds to catch
them. That salesman wouldn't just
knock off his wife after dinner,
toss her in a trunk and put her in
storage.
JEFF
I'll bet it's been done.
DOYLE
Almost everything's been done --
under panic. But this is a thousand
to one shot. That man's still sitting
around his apartment; he isn't
panicked.
JEFF
(A pause)
You think I made all this up?
DOYLE
I think you saw something -- that
probably has a very simple
explanation.
JEFF
For instance?
DOYLE
(Shrugs)
His wife took a trip.
JEFF
She -- was -- an -- invalid!
DOYLE
You told me.
(Looks at watch)
I've got to run, Jeff.
JEFF
All right -- you don't believe me.
Doyle saunters toward steps, picking up his hat on the way.
Stops.
DOYLE
I -- uh -- won't report it to the
Department. Let me poke into a little
on my own. No point in you getting
any ridiculous publicity.
JEFF
(Coldly)
Thanks.
DOYLE
We know the wife is gone. I'll see
if I can find out where.
JEFF
Do that.
He goes up the steps to the door, putting on his hat.
He pauses his hand on the door knob.
DOYLE
You have any headaches lately?
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP
Jeff answers, showing only the slightest irritation.
JEFF
Not 'til you showed up.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP
Doyle, still at the door:
DOYLE
Uh-huh. Well, it'll wear off in time --
along with the hallucinations. See
you around.
He starts to go out the door, and closes it behind him.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT
From Doyle's viewpoint. Jeff lifts his hand in a feeble
parting gesture.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP
Before the door has completely closed, Doyle opens it again,
and looks in.
DOYLE
By the way what happened to your
leg?
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP
JEFF
I was jaywalking.
DOYLE'S VOICE (O.S.)
Where?
JEFF
(With nonchalance)
The Indianapolis Speedway.
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP
The door starts to close again, as if Doyle considered Jeff's
answer quite reasonable. Then the door pops open and Doyle's
head comes in, a surprised expression across his face.
DOYLE
During the race?
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP
Jeff answers with a straight face.
JEFF
Yup. It sure stopped traffic.
We don't see Doyle again, but only HEAR the sharp slam of
the DOOR off. Jeff chuckles. Then he turns back to the window.
...continue to part 7
