旅行终点 The End of the Tour Movie Script

Lipsky goes from room to room, as if memorizing this time and place, softly describing what he sees into his recorder.

LIPSKY:

(into the device) Dog stuff. Throw toys, chew toys. Crap stains on carpet. Shark doll on bookcase.

American flag. Alanis. Coal-burning fireplace. Brick wall. Fake wood- paneling. Soda cans. Lots of ‘em.

Diet Rite. Looks like a frat; the bookish frat. Botticelli calendar: Birth of Venus. Wooden chess set.

Postcard of Updike. Cartoon: Comparative anatomy: Brains - Male, Female, Dog.

110 INT. DAVID'S HOUSE/BEDROOM - 1996 - DAY 110 LIPSKY (CONT’D) Barney towel used as curtain. Photo of German philosophers. Photo collage of his family, the kind kids put in their dorm rooms. His sister is pretty, looks like a female him.

Clothes everywhere: sneakers, stuff on the floor, clothes draped over stuff.

111 INT. DAVID'S HOUSE/BATHROOM - 1996 - DAY 111 LIPSKY (CONT’D) Padded toilet seat, looks like a rug.

Postcards: Baboons. Clintons. St.

Ignatius quote: “Lord teach me to be generous. / Teach me to serve you as you deserve; / to give and not to count the cost... / to toil and not to seek for rest / to labor and not to ask for reward, / save that of knowing that I do your will.” 112A INT. DAVID’S HOUSE/HALLWAY/OFFICE - 1996 - DAY 112A Lipsky sees the door to David’s office, ajar for the first time. He pushes his way in and discovers a darkened room. He looks around quietly, barely breathing, sees the partially illuminated keyboard and computer. He goes to the closed drapes, pushes them aside and squints as he takes in the brilliant snowy field.

81.

112 INT. DAVID'S HOUSE/GUEST ROOM - 1996 - DAY 112 The scraping is still heard. Lipsky packs clothes, a loafer, and stops when he sees his book, The Art Fair. He looks at his author’s photo.

113 EXT. DAVID'S HOUSE - 1996 - DAY 113 His book in hand, Lipsky trudges through the snow and finds David systematically scraping away at his car.

DAVID:

Driving that rental of yours? The feeling of gliding? This sh*t box dudn’t even have shock absorbers.

LIPSKY:

What is it?

DAVID:

‘85 Nissan Sentra. I know it doesn’t look like much, but, man, this thing starts. It’s actually a problem.

LIPSKY:

Why?

DAVID:

I gotta get a new one but I can’t junk this.

LIPSKY:

Why not?

DAVID:

It’s my friend.

LIPSKY:

Ah.

Pause.

LIPSKY:

Hey, David, I, uh... Lipsky shyly presents David with a copy of his book.

DAVID:

Wow. Just happened to have it on you?

LIPSKY:

I debated whether or not I should I do this.