SCREEN IS WHITE.
CAMERA TILTS DOWN from a brilliant late June sky to introduce us to the little town of Beacon, Pennsylvania. We see the breathtaking mountain landscape, the lines of majestic evergreens. Then TRAFFIC NOISE FADES IN as power lines and the roofs of buildings enter the screen. We see the off-ramp leading to Beacon from the Interstate, then the whole town of Beacon itself, formerly a solid, comfortable little mill town, now getting dirty and degenerating with age. Several small buildings along Washington, the main street, are boarded over.
KELLY MARSHALL, a restless, introspective 17-year-old in a KMart checker uniform, complains to her long-suffering girlfriend and co-worker LINDA, as the two pass the padlocked gates of the shut-down mill on their way to the huge, garish K-Mart. Linda, who has heard all of this many times before, wiggles a loose Lee Press-On Nail on her right index finger as Kelly rambles on.
KELLY
… how people can settle for so little in life. There’s a whole world on the other side of those mountains, and people around here act like they never even thought about it.
INT. K-MART – DAY
Kelly’s lament continues to Linda at the next register as Kelly mechanically rings up a sale. However, Linda’s eyes bug at the sight of Kelly’s customer; she tugs at Kelly’s uniform skirt to try to get her attention.
KELLY
But I have. I don’t care how many companies close down on me– no way I spend the rest of my life like this-minimum wage, take-out pizza and rented videos on Saturday night. Forget the economy– my life is happening now.
She hands her customer his parcel and change.
KELLY
Honest to God, Linda, there’s got to be some way out of this– I don’t know how, but I’ve just got to find it.
Kelly finally responds to her friend’s frantic gesturing, and looks up at her customer. He’s a tall man in a white jumpsuit with rhinestone trimming, flared pants and a wide pointed collar. Thick black hair, sideburns and sunglasses– in all, a dead ringer for ELVIS PRESLEY. As Kelly stares at him, he slips something into her hand– a one-thousand-dollar bill. He gives her a reassuring pat on the arm, then heads for the exit door.
MUSIC UP:
A bouncy little intro, then the voice of Elvis sings:
ELVIS
(Sings)
“Well, bless my soul, what’s wrong with me?
I’m itchin’ like a man on a fuzzy tree.
My friends say I ‘m actin’ wild as a bug. I’m in love– I’m all shook up…”
CREDITS ROLL AND MUSIC CONTINUES AS
Kelly realizes what she’s holding. She looks up after the Elvis figure, but from her POV we see
EXT. PARKING LOT – DAY
The Elvis figure enters a chauffeured white Limousine, which then pulls out of the parking lot.
CUT TO:
EXT. DINER – DAY
The limo waits in the parking lot of the modest but nicely kept-up Starlight Diner. The Elvis figure emerges from the diner carrying a white take-out bag.
INT. DINER – DAY
At the cash register, DOREEN MCCARTHY, the forthright, big-boned proprietress in her mid-thirties, alternates between staring at the Elvis figure, and the thousand-dollar bill in her hand.
At the counter, GEORGE LUKOWSRI, DOUG GREENE & CURTIS MCCLENDON, thirtyish working-class types we’ll come to know as THE THREE AMIGOS, stare at each other, then simultaneously burst into hysterical laughter.
CUT TO:
EXT. ROAD – DAY
The gleaming white limo makes its rather conspicuous way along a side road toward the on-ramp to the Interstate, the Elvis figure clearly visible in the back seat. JO ANNE MIKULSKY, a frail, rather nervous-looking woman, emerges from B & J’ s Sunny Sundries, sorting through several letters as she approaches a mailbox. She catches sight of the Elvis figure in the limo, freezes in her tracks– then faints dead away
The limo glides up the ramp to the Interstate.
MUSIC AND CREDITS CONTINUE AS
Word of the Elvis sighting spreads around town.
In the K-Mart parking lot, numerous teens besiege Kelly, eager to get their first look at a thousand-dollar bill. Kelly, shaking her head and giggling, has no explanation for what has happened.
In the diner, Doreen shrugs the incident off as a number of middle-aged customers clamor for details.
In the street, Jo Anne recounts her story with reverent rapture, finally extending her hand toward the Interstate.
EXT. HIGHWAY – DAY
The highway eventually leads to the glittering skyline of New York City.
MUSIC OUT
CREDITS END
CUT TO:
INT. NEWSPAPER OFFICE – DAY
The Mirror is an aging, struggling big city newspaper. LORI WHEELER, a fashionably put-together woman in her early thirties, finishes typing a story into her computer terminal with a flourish. The artifacts decorating Lori’s work station reflect her tastes– photos of Baryshnikov leaping through the air, Tina Turner in one of her killer sexy poses, Vaclav Havel, Lillian Hellman.
GARY, the tough-looking street reporter who sits next to her, is looking up skeptically from a sheet of wire copy at editor MAX SHULOFF, a man in his sixties who has given up trying to quit smoking.
GARY
(To Max)
You yankin’ my chain with this?
LORI
What’s up?
GARY
Elvis sightings.
He disdainfully passes the wire story over to her; she takes and reads it, also surprised that the topic is under consideration.
MAX
It’s human interest– economically depressed area, a couple of locals gave Presley a free meal and a ride when his car broke down in the Fifties–
GARY (Still unconvinced)
Elvis.
LORI
(Indicating wire copy)
I’ll do this.
MAX
Good.
He gets off a shot at Gary as he ambles away.
MAX
(Indicating Lori)
See? Initiative. You could learn something from her.
Before Gary can formulate an appropriate wisecrack, Max turns back to Lori.
MAX
You get that memo from personnel?
Lori nods, then shrugs.
LORI
I’ll go. Pretty soon. Eventually.
Max nods, then wanders away. Lori notices Gary eyeing her inquisitively.
LORI
Some overdue vacation time. You know, the union just likes to keep these things straight.
She buries herself in the press release.
GARY
Uh– exactly how much vacation time might be in question here?
LORI (Evasive)
A couple weeks.
He keeps staring.
LORI
Ten.
GARY
Ten weeks of vacation due, and she volunteers to check out Elvis sightings. Can you say “workaholic?”
Lori grins as she starts stuffing various pens and notebooks into her bag.
LORI
(Grins)
Gary! Come on, man– where’s your sense of adventure? The open road, small town America, Elvis at the K-Mart–
Lori slings the bag over her shoulder and heads for the door, tossing off a final comment as she studies the wire story.
LORI
This could be the scoop of my career.
CUT TO:
EXT. HIGHWAY – DAY
Lori’s beat-up little subcompact rolls along the Interstate through a glorious summer day.
INT. CAR
Lori simultaneously checks a road map, whistles along to a Prokofiev tape, and makes the turnoff to Beacon.
CUT To:
INT. DINER DAY
A Xeroxed copy of the thousand-dollar bill is now Scotch -taped to the wall, next to a photo of Doreen, one arm proudly slung around the shoulder of a teen-aged boy we’ll come to know as her son DANNY. Coffee mugs bearing the names of regulars– Jo Anne, Bert, Joel, Eddie, etc.– line a shelf nearby.
The handful of regular customers present in their jeans, workshirts and polyester skirts and blouses eye Lori curiously– a nice-looking stranger being a natural source of entertainment. Doreen tends to her customers as she answers Lori ‘s questions. The Three Amigos observe from their favorite back booth.
DOREEN
Let’s see– he came in, he picked up his meatloaf and blueberry pie. He said, “God love you, Sweetheart,” and he left.
Doreen turns her attention to a little KID picking at his lunch.
DOREEN
Eat your veggies there, Champ. Put a little hair on your chest.
Lori has to lean back to regain Doreen’s attention.
LORI
Any night clubs around here that might have hired an Elvis impersonator?
DOREEN
Night clubs? Well, George over there danced naked on his coffee table last New Year’s
Eve– that’s about as close as we come around here.
A couple of the regulars crack up at this.
LORI
(Deliberately softening her tone)
This is the place where someone treated Presley to the free meal, isn’t it?
DOREEN
You know, we’re right off the Interstate here. We get fruitcakes parading in and out of this place like you wouldn’t believe.
LORI
Well, sure, but–
George calls over to Lori,
GEORGE
Uh, pardon me there, miss?
He beckons her over with a finger.
GEORGE
Let me help you out here– The guy in the Elvis suit?
(Indicates Doug with his thumb) Him.
The next several speeches overlap.
DOUG
(A voice like a yapping cocker spaniel)
WHAT!! WHATAREYOU, CRAZY?!? Do I look like the kind of maniac goes runnin’ around wearin’ rhinestones on his pants for Godssake?
GEORGE
We saw him– he gets off on wearin’ these little outfits–
DOUG
And with the wig already? On top of everything else, I’m not tall enough–
GEORGE
Tell her, Curt.
CURT
Definitely. Him.
DOUG
Come on, you can’t be goin’ around tell in’ people–
GEORGE
Naw– he did it– here’s your man–
DOUG
Get outta here!!
George and Curt keep taunting Dougie, pointing at him like schoolboys denouncing a test cheat, falling all over each other with laughter. Lori’s having some trouble keeping a straight face herself.
INT. SAME – LATER
Lori pays Doreen at the cash register.
DOREEN
There’s a Motel 6 back the way you came from. But the Lakeside’s much homier. You head straight up that road, take the turnoff to the left– there’s a nice big weeping willow tree– you can’t miss– just a second.
Doreen catches the attention of one guy leaving.
DOREEN
Yo, Pete– listen, Lloyd’s having all kinds of problems with his pickup– you give him a price, I bet he’ll throw the work your way.
PETE
Thanks
DOREEN
How’s the watchman job going over at the power station?
PETE
(Shakes his head)
It’s not enough; it’s just a part-time deal. We’re hangin’ in.
Doreen nods sympathetically.
PETE
Doreen. Thanks for the tip.
He exits with a wave. Lori, who has taken note of the conversation, pays her check.
LORI
Thanks very much for your help.
Doreen tries to hand Lori her change, but Lori waves her off. Doreen nods her appreciation, then levels a look at Lori.
DOREEN
(Very determined)
We’re just a little small town here. That thing with this guy– it was just some kinda fluke.
Lori nods noncommittally, registering Doreen’s opinion. As Lori crosses to the door, Dougie starts yapping again.
DOUG
Look!! It’s him!! Getting on the bus– It’s Elvis!!
CURT
He’s shootin’ hoops in the schoolyard!!
DOUG
There he goes again!!
He’s in the parking lot!!
GEORGE
The 7-11!!
DOUG
You can’t get rid of this guy anymore!! It’s–
AMIGOS IN UNISON
ELLLLLLLLLLLL-VIS!!!
They fall all over each other laughing. Lori can’t help laughing a little herself as she exits.