Entry 001 - A Few Good Men
In which reasonable doubt reigns supreme
TITLE: A Few Good Men
PREMIERE: 9 Dec 1992
DIRECTOR: Rob Reiner
DRAFT SCRIPT: PDF
SOURCE SCREENPLAY: Scribd
Okay, before we get into this first entry proper, I wanted to clarify one thing from my introduction. I made a point of emphasizing that this project would be going through Mr. Sorkin’s work for the screen in order to preclude my doing analyses for his stage works. I wanted to emphasize that primarily because I’ve never seen any of Mr. Sorkin’s stageplays live, so I’d be flying by the seat of my pants in terms of textual analysis since how the works are spoken is just as important to him as how they’re written.
Now this doesn’t preclude me from being able to reference a stageplay in the future where I am able should I find a Sorkinism in a screenplay that was lifted from a stageplay — and there are examples of that — but I will not be dedicating entries to the stageplays themselves like I will for the screenplays. I want to state that upfront because, as you’ve probably already gathered by now, this entry will inevitably be a little different in that regard.
A Few Good Men was originally premiered as a stageplay in September 1989 as a production by the University of Virginia Department of Drama, before being premiered on Broadway two months later. Before it even premiered, however, Mr. Sorkin had already sold the play’s film rights to producer David Brown on the condition that he agree to produce the play as a play first.
The year after the premiere, Castle Rock Entertainment came to help fulfill the film side of the deal. The resulting partnership led Mr. Sorkin, with the help of Rob Reiner and William Goldman, to rewrite the stageplay into a screenplay. The adaptation from stage to screen inevitably brought with it a slew of changes.
With the limitations of space removed by virtue of transitioning from stage to screen, a number of scenes from the play were split apart and/or relocated to provide a greater variety of locations for the final product. As a result, the screenplay exhibits a general rearrangement of lines from the original stageplay, examples of which are frankly too many to go into herein in a reasonable amount of time.
With the removal of space limitations, however, comes the introduction of time limitations, the standard of film intermissions having gone the way of the dodo at that point. As such, a number of things from the stageplay had to be cut — though some of those cuts were compensated for by some shorter additions to the screenplay that were not present in the stageplay. It’s these differences that will be among what I want to highlight in this entry, and that’s as far as I’ll get to analyzing a stageplay with this blog.
Right off the bat, we already have a major difference between the stageplay and the screenplay. In the original stageplay, the first thing the audience is treated to is Dawson and Downey standing to attention and reciting the exposition of their being arrested after killing Santiago — like if the Venticelli were in the Marines.foreshadowing detected Instead, we have ourselves a prime example of what a certain YouTuber describes as the principle of “show, don’t tell”: instead of having the details of the death of Santiago and its follow-up told to us, we viewers are shown the assault itself right away, rather than later on as a flashback in the stageplay. The details of why the assault is happening are so far lost on us as the viewers, but that gives those details more payoff as the movie progresses.
One interesting thing to note: in both the stageplay and the screenplay, the scene in which Santiago is assaulted has Downey telling Santiago as it happens, “You’re lucky it’s us, Willy.” That line is curiously omitted from the final product, which further serves to withhold information from the movie audience like the removal of the exposition recitation. It also serves to add a certain ambiguity to the whole situation that’s further established by some other changes from stage to screen that we’ll see later.
GALLOWAY: Captain, I’d like to request that it be me who’s the attorney… that it be myself who’s assigned… no, I’d like to request that it be I who am assigned… that it be I who am assigned? That’s it, that’s confidence inspiring…
Those familiar with Aaron Sorkin have likely heard the horror stories about how actors not sticking exactly to the script have incurred his wrath to varying degrees. It would therefore naturally behoove us to point out in cases where we have a draft script to reference when that script and the final product disagree on a character’s line. However, in prepping for this project I found a disturbing number of instances of such lines, so going through each and every line would frankly get overwhelming fairly quickly. I am therefore planning to limit myself on this front to cases where the music of the line is changed considerably, since Mr. Sorkin’s overarching aim of his writing is to make music out of language. In this particular case, the point of the line is arguably not to be all that musical, so that Demi Moore didn’t recite the line word-for-word here doesn’t really matter.
Incidentally, this comparison is a bit of a stretch so I won’t label it as a proper Sorkinism, but this won’t be the last time we see a woman verbally preparing what she will say to a man on her way to seeing him in a Sorkin work. Brownie points to whoever can name another instance!
NEW Sorkin Player: David Bowe
Character: Commander Gibbs
GIBBS: Jo — come on in.
…
WEST: Would you like to sit down?
GALLOWAY: I’m fine, sir.
WEST: Have a seat.
GALLOWAY: Okay… (sits)
We will also see a curious number of instances of dialogue being added between script and shoot. Did the actors throw that in, or was it written in with a subsequent draft? Given a similar exchange already happens later, I’d be willing to believe the latter, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the former either.
GALLOWAY: They’re scheduled to have a hearing down in Cuba this afternoon at 1600.
Interesting thing to note: Mr. Sorkin evidently didn’t take care to ensure all his times were in military time in his draft script. That was almost certainly corrected by the time shooting scripts were handed out.
GALLOWAY: In short, Captain, I’d like to suggest that… I be the one who that… eh, that it be me, uh, who is assigned to represent them… myself.
Wow, that practice did you good…
Galloway’s nervousness over trying to get herself assigned to the case is something that got added between the stageplay and the screenplay. In the stageplay, she’s simply presented as an anal-retentive completionist whose perfectionism is driving her to attempt to punch above her weight with little self-awareness — until her record is thrown in her face. Here, it honestly feels like her character’s been rewritten to have just stepped off the Love Boat.
WEST: Commander Galloway, why don’t you get yourself a cup of coffee?
GALLOWAY: Thank you, sir, I’m fine.
WEST: Commander, I’d like you to leave the room so we can talk about you behind your back.
Damn, you certainly know how to get to the point, sir. I know a certain film about Marines where a director like you would have come in handy.
GIBBS: She disposed of three cases in two years.
WEST: Three cases in two years? Who’s she handling, the Rosenbergs?
Julius and Ethel Rosenberg were members of the Communist Party who in 1951 were convicted of espionage under the US Espionage Act for passing state secrets to the Soviet Union. They were executed two years later, during which time a campaign for clemency failed spectacularly and the execution itself got delayed to prevent the two Jews from being executed on the Sabbath. I suppose that technically lines up to three “cases” in two years?
NEW Dialogue Motif: Crawling up one’s ass
GIBBS: She’s not cut out for litigation.
LAWRENCE: She’s a hell of an investigator, Jerry —
GIBBS: (interrupting) In Internal Affairs, sure. She can crawl up a lawyer’s ass with the best of ‘em…
Ew… I hope, for her sake, that lawyer is gay.
WEST: I promise you Division will assign the right man for the job.
Yeah, I’m sure they…
KAFFEE: Alright, let’s go! Let’s get two!
Goddammit, not him! Why did we cast him?!
NEW Sorkin Player: Matthew Saks
Character: David Spradling
SPRADLING: You’re stalling on this thing. Now we either do it now, or no kidding, Kaffee, I’m gonna hang your boy from a fucking yardarm.
KAFFEE: A yardarm? (to teammate) Sherby, does the Navy still hang people from yardarms?
SHERBY: I don’t think so.
NEW Sorkin Name: Dave/David
KAFFEE: (back to Spradling) Dave, Sherby doesn’t think the Navy hangs people from yardarms anymore.
So Sorkin-esque is this exchange, when I was first compiling Sorkinisms for this project I could have sworn there was something similar in another work. Didn’t end up finding it…
SPRADLING: I’m gonna charge him with possession and being under the influence on duty. You plead guilty, I’ll recommend 30 days in the brig with loss of rank and pay.
KAFFEE: It was oregano, Dave, it was $10 worth of oregano.
SPRADLING: Yeah, well, your client thought it was marijuana.
KAFFEE: My client’s a moron, that’s not against the law.
Wait, can you even get high on oregano? I wouldn’t think so… but I did know a guy in high school who once smoked a light bulb, so what do I know?
SPRADLING: B misdemeanor, 20 days in the brig.
KAFFEE: C misdemeanor, 15 days restricted duty.
SPRADLING: (shakes his head) I don’t know why I’m agreeing to this.
KAFFEE: You have wisdom beyond your years.
In the screenplay after this exchange but cut from the final product is Kaffee asking David if he can play third base. That won’t be the last time the script has Kaffee take his softball team so seriously.
NEW Sorkin Name: Sam
WHITAKER: How’s the baby, Sam?
WEINBERG: I think she’s getting ready to say her first word any day now.
WHITAKER: How can you tell?
WEINBERG: She just looks like she has something to say.
At this point, Mr. Sorkin had yet to become a father, so I have to wonder if the treatment of Sam’s fatherhood is informed by someone else in his life or if he simply managed to riff it on his own.
NEW Sorkin Name: Dan/Danny
KAFFEE: Excuse me, sorry I’m late.
WHITAKER: It’s alright, Danny. I know you don’t have a good excuse, so I won’t force you to come up with a bad one.
KAFFEE: … Thank you, sir.
And we have further establishment that Kaffee is perhaps not the right man for the job, which is even further established with the next line:
WHITAKER: This first one’s for you. Seems you’re moving up in the world — been requested by Division.
(“Oooh”’s and “Ahhh”‘S from the other LAWYERS)
Note the stage direction in the screenplay: “Subtle Note: Kaffee doesn’t want to move up in the world.” Watching back… eh… Tom did it alright.
WHITAKER: Seems important to Division that this one be handled by the book, so I’m assigning co-counsel.
(awkward silence before WEINBERG realizes people are looking at him)
WEINBERG: No.
WHITAKER: Sam.
WEINBERG: Sir, I got a stack of papers on my desk about a mile high.
WHITAKER: Work with Kaffee on this.
WEINBERG: Doing what? Kaffee will have this done in about four days.
WHITAKER: Doing various… administrative… things. Backup… whatever…
Damn, man, could you be less specific?
GALLOWAY: You’re the attorney Division assigned?
KAFFEE: I’m lead counsel. This is Sam Weinberg.
WEINBERG: I have no responsibilities here whatsoever.
Really confidence inspiring, man…
KAFFEE: Have I done something wrong?
GALLOWAY: No, it’s just that when I petitioned Division to have counsel assigned, I was hoping I’d be taken seriously.
KAFFEE: … No offense taken, in case you were wondering.
WEINBERG: Commander, Lieutenant Kaffee is generally considered the best litigator in our office. He’s successfully plea-bargained 44 cases in nine months.
KAFFEE: One more, I get a set of steak knives.
What, does the JAG Corps have a partnership with Harris Teeter?
Sam’s defense of Kaffee to Galloway here really seems to make out the entirety of the JAG Corps to be something of a squad of buffoons. That characterization gets softened out as the film progresses, but it’s definitely not a good look at this point.
KAFFEE: Do you have some sort of jurisdiction here that I should know about?
GALLOWAY: My job is to make sure that you do your job. I’m special counsel for Internal Affairs, so my “jurisdiction” is pretty much in your face.
“That’s hot — wait, what?”
NEW Dialogue Motif: Don’t get cute
GALLOWAY: Tell your friend not to get cute down there. The Marines in Guantanamo are fanatical.
WEINBERG: About what?
GALLOWAY: About being Marines.
“Yeah, you have to be a MANLY MAN DOWN THERE! YEAH! devolves into coughs”
NEW Sorkin Name: Will
JESSUP: Who the fuck is P.F.C. William T. Santiago?
KENDRICK: Private Santiago is a member of Second Platoon, Bravo, sir.
In the draft script, we see “Second Platoon, Delta” instead of “Second Platoon, Bravo”. The use of Delta in the script is a remnant of a major change made between the stageplay and the screenplay that we will get into more later.
JESSUP: Yeah, well, apparently he’s not very happy down here in Shangri-La, because he’s written letters to everybody but Santa Claus asking for a transfer.
The name Shangri-La originally came from the 1933 novel Lost Horizon, which establishes the fictional Shangri-La as a utopian lamastery in the Kunlun Mountains of Tibet. The name has since been used many different places and buildings — including as the name of what is now called Camp David from 1942 to 1953 — typically to evoke a sense of utopian decadence at that place. The usage is here is therefore quite obviously sarcastic.
NEW Verbal Tic: To say nothing of [the fact]
JESSUP: This kid broke the chain of command and ratted on a member of his unit, to say nothing of the fact that he is a US Marine and it would appear he can’t run from here to there without collapsing from heat exhaustion.
The use of the term “ratted on” suggests the image of a mafia don on the hunt for undercover infiltrators in a way that I’m not completely certain was intentional. It should be noted that the US military ended up banning screening of this film on military bases due primarily to its depiction of the Marines, and I suspect that inferable comparison may have been part of the decision.
NEW Sorkin Name: Curtis
MARKINSON: Colonel, I think it would be better to hold this discussion in private.
KENDRICK: That won’t be necessary, Colonel. I can handle the situation, sir.
MARKINSON: The same way you handled the Curtis Bell incident?
Alright, here’s the first of a disturbing number of instances where a character gets renamed between writing and shooting. In the screenplay, the character’s name is Curtis Barnes, but in the final product his name is Curtis Bell. In its absence here, the Barnes surname will be used later instead. Funnily enough, this isn’t the only instance in Sorkin works of a surname getting passed from character to character between script and shoot — but that’s for a future entry.
NEW Sorkin Name: Matt/Matthew
MARKINSON: Don’t interrupt me, Lieutenant, I’m still your superior officer.
JESSUP: And I’m yours, Matthew.
“Oh, Colonel, I’ve been waiting my entire life to hear you say — wait, you didn’t mean it like that.”
NEW Sorkin Name: Tom
NEW Sorkin Player: Joshua Malina
Character: Tom the orderly
JESSUP: Tom!
(An orderly enters from the outer office)
TOM: Sir!
Joshua Malina first appeared in the Broadway production of A Few Good Men, first in a minor role like this one then additionally as an understudy for major roles, including Sam Weinberg and Louden Downey. Whether because of family connections or a timely Heimlich, Mr. Malina would go on to appear in quite a few Sorkin works — as I’m sure the reader is already fully aware.
NEW Dialogue Motif: Gonna blame you
JESSUP: Jon, you’re in charge. Santiago doesn’t make 4-6/4-6 on his next proficiency and conduct report… I’m gonna blame you. … Then I’m going to kill you.
And that’s a conspiracy to commit murder charge, right there!
For those wondering about the 4-6/4-6 specification: Marine proficiency and conduct reports are scored on a scale from 0.0 to 5.0, where 4.5 and above is classified as “excellent”. Jessup is therefore tasking Jon with training Santiago to surpass the “excellent” threshold with a score of 4.6 — on penalty of extrajudicial execution.
JESSUP: What do you think of Kendrick?
MARKINSON: Colonel, my opinion of him has nothing to do—
JESSUP: (interrupting) I think he’s pretty much of a weasel myself…
Yikes! Not sure how that made the cut. The line in the script is, “I think he’s kind of a weasel, myself.” Mr. Nicholson likely started out to say, “I think he’s pretty much a weasel, myself,” then remembered the actual line before it was too late but changed it in the middle anyway. Happens to the best of us, Jack — I just blame the editor.
JESSUP: We go back a while. We went to the Academy together, we were commissioned together, we did our tours in Vietnam together. But I’ve been promoted up through the chain with greater speed and success than you have. Now, if that’s a source of tension or embarrassment for you, I don’t give a shit.
Another interesting change here: in the stageplay, the source of tension for Jessup and Markinson is that Jessup is younger than Markinson but higher-ranked. That was changed to their graduating together but getting differentiated promotions. I personally like that change because it makes the source of tension more deeply seated, as there’s more of a history behind it — that, and I can say from personal experience of being the lead of a team made up entirely of people older than me that a younger superior is certainly not unheard of.
On the subject of promotions, though…
JESSUP: We’re in the business of saving lives, Lieutenant Colonel Markinson.
In between screenplay and shooting, Markinson was promoted from Captain to Lieutenant Colonel. Congrats, man!
NEW Sorkin Player: Ron Ostrow
Character: M.P.
Ron Ostrow is another actor who started out with Mr. Sorkin in the Broadway production of A Few Good Men, also in a minor role, whose presence would go on to be littered throughout Sorkin’s work for the screen — even more so than Joshua Malina. I would contend there are people reading this now who couldn’t even name every single appearance he’s made in Sorkin works.
To be honest, though, I kind of wish he’d been given a better first appearance:
DOWNEY: Hal? Is this Washington, D.C.?
M.P. (RON): Alright, let’s move.
Every time I watch this movie, I find this scene to be awkward and so thoroughly superfluous. If the point of the scene is to establish that the accused have made it to Washington, then surely that could have been established without that clunky dialogue from Downey? The very next scene already has Galloway telling off Kaffee for not seeing his clients after their arrival, so it’s not like their location has to be verbalized now. If the point of the scene instead is to establish that Downey is basically Dawson’s dog, then I feel like that’s sufficiently established in further scenes as well. Not a good look, in my opinion.
GALLOWAY: Excuse me! I wanted to talk to you about Corporal Dawson and Private Downey.
Once again, Kaffee asking another Navy officer to join his softball team is cut from the final product (“You want to suit up?”). His ball team got no love from the director — just as well, I wouldn’t want to aid anyone wearing a Red Sox hat, either.
NEW Dialogue Motif: Don’t even know me/normally takes hour[s]
GALLOWAY: Would you be very insulted if I recommended to your supervisor that he assign different counsel?
KAFFEE: Why?
GALLOWAY: ‘Cause I don’t think you’re fit to handle the defense.
KAFFEE: You don’t even know me! Ordinarily it’d take someone hours to discover I’m not fit to handle a defense.
She’s IA, man, she doesn’t have that kind of time.foreshadowing detected
NEW Verbal Tic: Résumé recitation
NEW Sorkin Name: Lionel
GALLOWAY: You’re wrong — I do know you: Daniel Alistair Kaffee, born June 8th, 1964 at Boston Mercy Hospital. Your father’s Lionel Kaffee, former Navy judge advocate and Attorney General of the United States, died 1985. You went to Harvard Law, then you joined the Navy…
This is one of the few times in Sorkin works where the résumé being recited is someone else’s. Usually it’s just someone being braggadocious or insecurely overcompensating about themselves. (Also, yes, I’m labelling it as a tic instead of a motif — it happens so often it comes off as a reflex for the characters who do it.)
GALLOWAY: It’s my feeling that if this case is handled in the same fast-food, slick-ass, Persian bazaar manner with which you seem to handle everything else, then something’s gonna get missed. And I wouldn’t be doing my job if I allowed Dawson and Downey to spend any more time in prison than absolutely necessary because their attorney had predetermined the path of least resistance.
KAFFEE: (beat) Wow. (beat) I’m sexually aroused, Commander.
“Lieutenant Kaffee, you have been discharged, dishonorably, for sexually harassing a superior officer. Have fun filing parking tickets for the rest of your life.”
This line has never really sat right with me, so I feel somewhat validated by the fact that this line is different from what was written for the stageplay. From the stageplay:
STAGE KAFFEE: (pause) I may be picking the wrong time to ask you this but are you seeing anyone right now? — ‘cause I think you and I would be perfect together. It’s clear that you respect me and that’s the foundation for any solid—
STAGE GALLOWAY: Shut up.
STAGE KAFFEE: Yes ma’am.
Not only does that version of the line introduce a Sorkinism we’ll see again several times, it serves to establish an unambiguous response from Galloway to the advance from Kaffee, which is missing from the screenplay. It’s almost as if she were rewritten to have just stepped off the Love Boat.
By the way, something else that got lost between stageplay and screenplay: Kaffee on multiple occasions refers to Downey as Donnelly, and gets corrected by Galloway on each occasion. I’m sure that gag won’t get reused…sarcasm detected
(Also, before I get comments asking what the hell is wrong with me: yes, I’m correcting the character header on lines from JO to GALLOWAY. It doesn’t really sit right with me that most of the male characters are headered by their surname but the main female character is headered by her first name, so I made an executive decision to correct that for the blockquotes herein.)
GALLOWAY: Santiago died at 1:00 am. At 3:00, the doctor wasn’t able to determine the cause of death. Two hours later, he said it was poison.
KAFFEE: Oh, now I see what you’re saying. It had to be Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick!
“Oh, yes! Jolly well done! Let’s play some Cluedo!”
GALLOWAY: I’m gonna talk to your supervisor.
KAFFEE: Okay — go straight up Pennsylvania Avenue, it’s the big white house with the pillars in front.
GALLOWAY: … Thank you.
KAFFEE: I don’t think you’ll have much luck, though. I was assigned by Division, remember? Somebody over there thinks I’m a pretty good lawyer.
Okay, I actually had to look it up because I was rather unclear what was meant by ‘Division’. It seems like it’s supposed to refer to the Judge Advocate Division of the Marines? Evidently the JAG Corps has some sort of mixed jurisdiction over both the Navy and the Marines, for some reason — the relevant Wikipedia articles are woefully lacking in citations, though, and further searches didn’t settle the question very well for me. I’d appreciate any elucidating comments on the matter if anyone has any.
NEW Dialogue Motif: Don’t call me sir
KAFFEE: Is this your signature?
DAWSON: Yes, sir.
KAFFEE: You don’t have to call me ‘sir’. (to Downey) Is this your signature?
DOWNEY: Sir, yes, sir.
KAFFEE: … You certainly don’t need to do it twice in one sentence.
…
KAFFEE: What’s a garden variety Code Red?
DAWSON: … Sir?
KAFFEE: Harold! You say ‘sir’, I turn around and look for my father! Danny, Daniel, Kaffee…
Good lord, man, if you expect a Marine to call you Danny, you’re beyond help.
KAFFEE: Did you assault Santiago with the intent of killing him?
DAWSON: No, sir.
KAFFEE: What was your intent?
DAWSON: To train him, sir.
KAFFEE: Train him to do what?
DAWSON: Train him to think of his unit before himself — to respect the code.
WEINBERG: What’s the code?
DAWSON: Unit, Corps, God, Country.
Alright, corporal, do we need a lecture on the separation of church and state? I mean, it apparently doesn’t mean much anymore these days, but still…
ROSS: Dan Kaffee.
KAFFEE: Smilin’ Jack Ross.
Here’s a weird one: in the stageplay, it’s “smilin’”; in the screenplay, it’s “sailin’”; in the final product, it’s back to “smilin’”. Was that simply a typo in the screenplay? They are one letter away from each other, but it’s not like A and M are that close to each other on keyboards — and I don’t think autocorrect was that powerful on the Fat Mac, if it existed at all. Mystery for the ages, I guess…
KAFFEE: They called the ambulance, Jack.
ROSS: I don’t care if they called the Avon lady, they killed a Marine.
Had to look this up because I’m a whippersnapper and had no idea: Avon Lady is a name for a door-to-door saleswoman for Avon, a cosmetics company I naturally forgot existed by virtue of never having seen a door-to-door salesperson in my entire life.
KAFFEE: We still playing hoops tomorrow night?
ROSS: Do we have a deal?
KAFFEE: I’ll talk to you when I get back.
The end of this scene got changed from Ross inviting Kaffee to a 4-on-4 basketball PUG when he gets back from Cuba to Kaffee verifying he was already invited. That change frankly makes for a less awkward moment of dialogue, in my opinion — Mr. Sorkin was definitely still in the revision process after the draft script linked at the top, as we’ll see more examples of later.
GALLOWAY: By the way, I brought Downey some comic books he was asking for. The kid, Kaffee, I swear he doesn’t know where he is, he doesn’t even know why he’s been arrested.
KAFFEE: Commander—
GALLOWAY: You can call me Joanne.
KAFFEE: Joanne—
GALLOWAY: Or Jo.
KAFFEE: Jo?
GALLOWAY: Yes.
KAFFEE: Jo, if you ever speak to a client of mine again without my permission, I’ll have you disbarred.
Disbarment is legitimately the absolute worst thing that could happen to a lawyer’s career, and you’re threatening to have someone disbarred for just talking to your client? Yeah, that seems like a stretch — it’s not like she was trying to pass herself off as Downey’s lawyer when they spoke, so I’m not buying it.
KAFFEE: You got authorization from Aunt Ginny.
GALLOWAY: Perfectly within my province.
KAFFEE: Does Aunt Ginny have a barn? We could hold the trial there. I can sew the costumes, maybe his Uncle Goober can be the judge.
Hey, Goober got married? Congrats, man! (I’m legally required to make that joke as a resident of North Carolina.)
GALLOWAY: I’m going to Cuba with you tomorrow.
KAFFEE: … And the hits just keep on comin’.
Mr. Sorkin reportedly has received inspiration for writing ideas while driving and listening to the radio, so I wouldn’t be surprised if that line were an unconscious (or even conscious) bit of osmosis from radio.
NEW Sorkin Name: Luther
KAFFEE: How’s it going, Luther?
LUTHER: Another day, another dollar, Captain.
KAFFEE: You gotta play ‘em as they lay.
LUTHER: What goes around comes around.
KAFFEE: If can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
LUTHER: At least I got my health.
KAFFEE: Well, then you got everything.
The last two lines of this exchange botch what was in the script, but to be honest, I don’t really care. I suppose it’s a neat way to introduce some verisimilitude into the story, but I’m not entirely sure why this scene was considered necessary. Was it to make Kaffee a more likable character? He’s being played by Tom Cruise, that’s literally impossible.
Moving on: remember earlier when I noted moving from stage to screen allowed for more variety of location? The following scene is actually one instance where Mr. Sorkin still hadn’t fully realized that power: the scene as written in the draft screenplay still takes place in Sam’s living room like in the stageplay. The scene was changed by shooting time to an outdoor scene — which resulted in a small change in dialogue:
WEINBERG: You heard her. The girl sat here, pointed, and said, “Pa.” She did. She said, “Pa.”
KAFFEE: She was pointing at a mailbox, Sam.
WEINBERG: That’s right — pointing as if to say, “Pa, look! A mailbox!”
In the screenplay, ‘mailbox’ was ‘doorknob’. From one trochaic disyllable to another… yeah, that checks out.
WEINBERG: Don’t forget to wear the whites, it’s very hot down there.
KAFFEE: I don’t like the whites.
WEINBERG: Nobody likes the whites, but we’re going to Cuba. You got Dramamine?
KAFFEE: Dramamine keeps you cool?
WEINBERG: No, Dramamine keeps you from throwing up. You get sick when you fly.
KAFFEE: I get sick when I fly because I’m afraid of crashing into a large mountain. I don’t think Dramamine will help.
You might say Kaffee “experiences flying”…foreshadowing detected
MARINE: (over noise of airplane) Lieutenants Kaffee and Weinberg, Commander Galloway! I’m Corporal Barnes!
And here it is: the Barnes surname was passed from a guy renamed to Bell to a guy who was originally surnamed Howard — and that’s not even the end of the renaming game in this movie!
JESSUP: Jon, this man’s dad once made a lot of enemies down in your neck of the woods — Jefferson v. Madison County School District. Folks down there said a little black girl couldn’t go to an all-white school. Lionel Kaffee said, “Well, we’ll just see about that.”
Another interesting change: in the stageplay, the Jefferson suit in question had Lionel Kaffee opposing a school prayer ordinance, rather than trying to get a Black girl into a Whites-only school. Funnily enough, the stageplay also had Jessup quip that Lionel Kaffee would have become Attorney General if Adlai Stevenson had been elected — which got removed in the screenplay in favor of Lionel Kaffee actually having been AG, according to Galloway (thus giving some anal-retentive fact-checkers some canon fodder). In its removal here, we’ll see the school prayer question come up later instead.
JESSUP: How the hell is your dad, Danny?
KAFFEE: He passed away seven years ago, sir.
JESSUP: (pause) Don’t I feel like the fucking asshole.
Some lines in the stageplay got cut for the screenplay, which as a result makes this line seem unnecessarily harsh to me. In the stageplay, Jessup’s ask after Kaffee’s dad includes a quip about whether he’s “still trying to overthrow the government”. That could definitely have been interpreted as an asshole move — not so much not knowing someone you weren’t personally acquainted with had died.
KAFFEE: I understand you had a meeting with your men that afternoon.
KENDRICK: Yes, I did.
KAFFEE: What did you guys talk about?
KENDRICK: I told the men that we had an informer among us, and that despite any desire they might have to seek retribution Private Santiago was not to be harmed in any way.
This meeting Kendrick refers to is actually depicted in the stageplay but withheld for the screenplay. In the stageplay’s rendition of the meeting, it’s made explicit that the platoon is split into four squads, named Alpha to Delta respectively — something else that got lost from stage to screen, as I alluded to earlier. Kendrick goes one by one through squads Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie to threaten different kinds of retribution on each of them if they were to execute a Code Red against Santiago. As for Lance Corporal Dawson and his Delta squad less two…
(KAFFEE runs a hand across the contents of Santiago’s footlocker)
Another well executed “show, don’t tell”: the audience is shown the neatly organized contents of Santiago’s footlocker, rather than told its contents like in the stageplay when the case is first given to Kaffee. This makes for a more telling pay-off (if you’ll forgive the pun) as we’ll see later on.
GALLOWAY: Lieutenant Kendrick, do you think Santiago was murdered?
KENDRICK: Commander, I believe in God and His son Jesus Christ. And because I do, I can say this: Private Santiago is dead, and that is a tragedy. But he is dead because he had no code. He is dead because he had no honor — and God was watching.
“God was watching” is a little leitmotif that has more presence in the stageplay — we’ll be coming back to that later.
JESSUP: They were running around for three hours looking for anything white they could wave in the air. (pause for laughs) Some of these people surrendered to a crew from CNN. (pause for laughs) Well, walk softly and carry an armored tank division, I always say.
I wouldn’t be surprised if that were a piece of improv from Jack Nicholson — the screenplay only contains one line before the dismissal of the stewards, which ended up getting botched anyway, so I suspect Rob Reiner just gave a direction to riff.
KAFFEE: If you feel there are any details that I’m missing, you should feel free to speak up.
The stage direction after this line in the screenplay is really quite something: “Jessup’s not quite sure what to say to this Navy Lawyer Lieutenant-Smartass guy who just gave him permission to speak freely on his own base.” Mr. Nicholson’s hesitation and dry “thank you” in response nails that direction perfectly, I’d say.
GALLOWAY: Do Code Reds still happen here?
KAFFEE: Jo, he doesn’t need to answer that.
GALLOWAY: Yes, he does.
KAFFEE: No, he really doesn’t.
GALLOWAY: Yeah, he really does.
No, he doesn’t, you Brat…
JESSUP: You know, it just hit me…
But he’s going to anyway…
JESSUP: There is nothing on this earth sexier — believe me, gentlemen — than a woman that you have to salute in the morning. Promote ‘em all, I say, ‘cause this is true: if you haven’t gotten a blowjob from a superior officer, well… you’re just letting the best in life pass you by.
This is one of a handful of curious instances where a line from the stageplay isn’t present in the draft screenplay, but ended up in the movie anyway: Jessup’s crack about blowjobs is absent from the screenplay. Whoever was responsible for adding it back is lost to history…
JESSUP: ‘Course my problem is I’m a colonel, so I’ll just have to go on taking cold showers until they elect some gal President.
Well now, hold on, Colonel, you mean to tell me there’s no such thing as Generals in the Marines? Or do you just consider the idea of a woman being promoted to General laughable? If so, fuck you.
JESSUP: You see, Danny, I can deal with the bullets and the bombs and the blood. I don’t want money, and I don’t want medals. What I do want is for you to stand there in that f****ty white uniform and with your Harvard mouth extend me some fucking courtesy.
Jesus… I keep having to remind myself that the use of the actual f-word in screenplays wasn’t nearly as frowned upon back then as it rightfully is now. Here’s hoping I don’t have to deal with that frequently…foreshadowing detected
Present in the screenplay at the end of this scene but absent from the final product is Jessup addressing Markinson after the lawyers leave:
JESSUP: I hate casualties, Matthew. There are casualties even in victory. A marine smothers a grenade and saves his platoon, that marine’s a hero. The foundation of the unit, the fabric of this base, the spirit of the Corps, they are things worth fighting for. (pause) Dawson and Downey, they don’t know it, but they’re smothering a grenade.
This removal further adds to the ambiguity of the situation — the relative guilt of Jessup, as well as Kendrick as a result of other changes, is left up to interpretation for the viewer. How the protagonists act when given the information they receive certainly is supposed to add weight to our decision, but the audience is not given 100% clarity like in the stageplay — at least not until the very end.
KAFFEE: I really missed you. I was just saying to myself it’s been almost three hours—
GALLOWAY: Markinson’s disappeared.
KAFFEE: … What?
GALLOWAY: Colonel Markinson’s gone U.A., unauthorized absence.
KAFFEE: I know what it means. When?
GALLOWAY: This afternoon, sometime after we left.
In the draft screenplay, instead of Markinson going U.A. he “resigned his commission”, which implies that Markinson left the Marines altogether. Once again, this is a case of something changed between stageplay and screenplay being restored to how it is in the stageplay. I personally suspect this is a case of a fact check correcting things before shooting, as resigning a commission typically takes a considerable amount of time and effort that Markinson simply couldn’t have taken.
KAFFEE: I’ll try to find him in the morning.
GALLOWAY: I’ve already tried.
KAFFEE: You tried? Joanne, you’re coming dangerously close to the textbook definition of interfering with a government investigation.
Well, hold on, would it not be the purview of Internal Affairs to investigate an officer going missing? (sigh) I’ll file this in the same place as ‘why is the Navy trying Marines’.
GALLOWAY: There was a platoon meeting on September 6th at four in the afternoon. Lieutenant Kendrick says that he gave strict instructions that nothing was to happen to Santiago. Now, is this true? I want you to speak freely.
DAWSON: Ma’am, that’s correct. But then he dismissed the platoon and we all went to our rooms.
GALLOWAY: And what happened then?
DAWSON: Lieutenant Kendrick came to our room, ma’am.
KAFFEE: When?
DAWSON: About five minutes after the meeting broke, sir, about 16:20.
KAFFEE: And what happened then?
DAWSON: Lieutenant Kendrick ordered us to give Santiago a Code Red.
In the stageplay, it wasn’t a separate meeting — it was simply Delta squad being told something different than the other squads once the other squads were dismissed. And what did Kendrick tell them? “God is watching,” Kendrick started out, which likely served as an after-the-fact ironic echo of what Kendrick told Kaffee earlier in the play. Kendrick continued by imploring Dawson to “get his house in order”, which is a rather carefully chosen wording — the lieutenant did not explicitly say to issue a Code Red, but Dawson inferred that order. That distinction is a bit of ambiguity in the stageplay that ends up getting amplified in the screenplay as a result of the scene’s getting cut — we’re just supposed to trust that Dawson is telling the whole truth here. We’re encouraged to believe him, of course, but there’s room for doubt if you look for it… and Ross certainly looks for it, as we’ll see later.
KAFFEE: Why did Markinson go U.A.?
ROSS: We’ll never know.
KAFFEE: You don’t think I could subpoena him?
ROSS: You can try, but you won’t find him. You know what he did for the first 17 of his 26 years in the Corps? Counter-intelligence. Markinson’s gone. There is no Markinson.
This window into Markinson’s past seems to me to contradict Jessup’s earlier claim that Markinson didn’t get promoted up the chain as fast as Jessup — he simply went on a different track of promotions instead. That contradiction almost makes me want to rethink the change to the point of tension earlier — but I’m not a film director, so take what I think with a grain of salt.
KAFFEE: Alright, here’s the story: the government’s offering involuntary manslaughter, two years — you’ll be home in six months.
Yet another instance of fact check gone right: between draft script and shoot we went from assault to involuntary manslaughter.
NEW Dialogue Motif: Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah
DAWSON: We have a code, sir.
KAFFEE: Oh, well, Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah!
Damn, man, are you trying to get sued by Disney?
DAWSON: We joined the Marines because we wanted to live our lives by a certain code. And we found it in the Corps. Now you’re asking us to sign a piece of paper that says we have no honor. You’re asking us to say we’re not Marines. If a court decides that what we did was wrong, then I’ll accept whatever punishment they give. But I believe I was right, sir. I believe I did my job, and I will not dishonor myself, my unit, or the Corps so that I can go home in six months! … Sir!
(golf clap)
I keep having to tell myself that this was Wolfgang Bodison’s first acting role, because it is not at all obvious from his performance here. Rob Reiner found a diamond in the rough, for sure.
NEW Dialogue Motif: Don’t like (me) very much
KAFFEE: You don’t like me very much, do you?
DAWSON: (gives KAFFEE the stink eye)
Holy hell, if looks could kill…
KAFFEE: What happened to saluting an officer when he leaves the room?
(DAWSON stands slowly then forcefully pockets his hands)
Jesus… just spit on him, why dontcha?
KAFFEE: If he wants to jump off a cliff, that’s his business. I’m not gonna hold his hand on the way down!
Hmm… far be it from me to accuse a writer of plagiarism, but I have to wonder if the writer’s room of a certain TV show after its creator left were fans of this movie:
[WW711] CONCANNON: If I’m going to jump off the cliff… and you’re going to get pushed off the cliff… why don’t we hold hands on the way down?
NEW Verbal Tic: What do you want from me
GALLOWAY: When you ask the judge for new counsel, Danny, be sure and ask nicely.
KAFFEE: What do you want from me?
NEW Dialogue Motif: Don’t look now
GALLOWAY: I want you to stand up and make an argument.
WEINBERG: An argument that didn’t work for Calley at My Lai, an argument that didn’t work for the Nazis at Nuremberg—
KAFFEE: Oh, for Christ’s sake, Sam, do you really think that’s the same as two teenage Marines executing a routine order they never believed would result in harm? These guys aren’t the Nazis!
GALLOWAY: Don’t look now, Danny, but you’re making an argument.
And because he’s able to swat away a bad-faith invocation of Godwin’s Law, you think he’s fit for the defense? That’s kind of the bare minimum I expect from a human being, not a defense lawyer.
KAFFEE: You and Dawson, you both live in the same dream world! It doesn’t matter what I believe, it only matters what I can prove!
Not for the defense, it doesn’t!
NEW Dialogue Motif: Don’t tell (me) what (I) do/don’t know
KAFFEE: So, please, don’t tell me what I know and don’t know! I know the law!
Not enough, apparently! Let’s review, folks: “innocent until proven guilty” — that’s the standard for every American courtroom (or at least it should beforeshadowing detected). The job of the prosecution is to establish guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. The job of the defense, therefore, is to establish reasonable doubt. Does proof help in that regard? Absolutely! But it is a means to an end, not an end itself, and it’s not the only means to that end. Reasonable doubt can be established without hard proof — just ask OJ…
YUPPIE LAWYER: So I told Duncan, “If you wanna take this to court, you’re gonna force me to file, like, nine kinds of discovery motions, and you’re gonna spend the better part of a year going blind on paperwork because a 90-year-old man misread the Delaware insurance code.”
Damn, that guy’s got a class-A motormouth. I don’t know if he has much of a future in Sorkin works, though, considering what he said is nowhere close to the line in the script.
KAFFEE: Why does a Lieutenant Junior Grade with nine months’ experience and a track record for plea bargaining get assigned a murder case? (beat) Would it be so that it never sees the inside of a courtroom?
“A conspiracy’s afoot!”
KAFFEE: The only thing I have to eat is Yoo-Hoo and Cocoa Puffs, so if you want anything else, bring it with you.
Instead of Cocoa Puffs, the draft script has SugarSnacks, written camel-cased rather than as separate words, which implies a brand name like Cocoa Puffs, but I wasn’t able to find anything like it in a web search. Anyone able to speak to that?
KAFFEE: So this is what a courtroom looks like. (nods, then leaves)
This is where intermission would be for the stageplay. Feel free to take your own intermission at this point.
KAFFEE: (to WEINBERG) I need you.
“Oh, Danny, I’ve been waiting my entire life to hear you say that — wait, you didn’t mean it like that.”
WEINBERG: You got any Kung Pao Chicken?
Why, oh why, would you even want to deviate from the script here? Are dumplings not good enough for you?
KAFFEE: I don’t know what made Santiago die, I don’t want to know, I just want to show it could’ve been something other than poison.
Ah, so now you get the principle of reasonable doubt! Good to have you back, Kaffee!
NEW Dialogue Motif: Walk[ed] into that [one]
KAFFEE: Doctor, was there any sign of violence?
WEINBERG: (as the doctor) You mean other than the dead body?
KAFFEE: Shit! I walk into that every goddamn time.
Present in this montage as written in the draft screenplay after the above exchange is Kaffee and Galloway practicing swatting away an objection from the prosecution during the Kendrick cross — great idea in principle, but I have to say, the way it’s written is rather clunky, so I can understand why it got cut.
KAFFEE: They drew the Court members this afternoon: seven men, two women; five Navy, four Marines; all officers with line experience. Neither of the women have children, so that’s a bad break, there’s nothing we can do. My father always said a jury trial is not just about the law, it’s about assigning blame. Santiago’s dead, and he shouldn’t be. These nine people are gonna insist that someone be blamed for that. Ross is handing them our clients, we’re gonna hand them Kendrick. This is about a sales pitch. It’s not going to be to won by the law, it’s gonna be won by the lawyers, so remember: poker faces…
This spiel about the members of the Court is not present in the screenplay — the line instead starts at “poker faces”. It does allude to something of interest I found while performing research on courts-martial, though: the Constitutional right to trial by jury is apparently not considered applicable to military cases — which makes no fucking sense to me, but whatever. In its place, however, is the concept of “Court members”, which to the average layperson is indistinguishable from a jury, but the distinction is made explicit — something that appeared to pass Mr. Sorkin’s attention when he wrote the screenplay, as there are many instances referring to a “jury” that got corrected at shooting time to “members”.
In this added-in line, Kaffee implies they have essentially no control over member selection. That’s mostly true, but there is an exception. For general courts-martial, the Court members are selected by the “convening authority”, who is the officer who brings in the charges in the first place. When the defendant is a commissioned officer, members must all be commissioned officers themselves; otherwise, members can be either commissioned officers or non-commissioned officers (or warrant officers, as they are sometimes called). Crucially, if the defendant is an enlisted person, there is no requirement that the members include any enlisted persons, but the defense can request to the convening authority that enlisted persons be included amongst the members if they so desire. It’s therefore a stretch to say there was nothing they could do about the member selections, but not that far of a stretch.
NEW Dialogue Motif: Good tip
GALLOWAY: I was just gonna tell you to wear matching socks tomorrow.
KAFFEE: (beat) Okay. Good tip.
DROPPED Verbal Tic: Bet your ass
GALLOWAY: We’re ready
KAFFEE: Better believe it.
“Cut! Damnit, Tom, the line is ‘bet your ass’! ‘Bet your ass’! It’s really important that you say that — ah, what the hell…”
NEW Dialogue Motif: Get creamed
KAFFEE: We’re gonna get creamed.
“That’s hot — wait, what?”
NEW Sorkin Name: Miller
NEW Sorkin Player: Maud Winchester
Character: “Aunt Ginny” Miller
GALLOWAY: Danny, I want you to meet Ginny Miller, Louden’s aunt.
KAFFEE: You’re Aunt Ginny?
GINNY: Uh huh.
NEW Plot Bunny: Younger than expected
KAFFEE: I’m sorry, I… I was expecting someone older.
GINNY: So was I.
(awkward silence)
“Now come on — what is age but just a number?”
SERGEANT-AT-ARMS: All those having business with this general court-martial, stand forward and you shall be heard. Colonel Julius Alexander Randolph is presiding.
Between script and shooting, Judge Randolph was promoted from Captain to Colonel. Congrats, man — er, your Honor!
ROSS: Now, Lieutenant Kaffee is gonna try to pull off a little magic act here. He’s gonna try a little misdirection. He’s gonna astonish you with stories of rituals, and dazzle you with official-sounding terms like “Code Red”. He might even try to cut into a few officers for you. He’ll have no evidence, mind you, none, but it’s gonna be entertaining.
Dude, really? You’re gonna throw in a dig at the defense attorney in your opening statement? If I’m a member of the Court, I don’t trust you already.
NEW Sorkin Name: Harold
NEW Sorkin Name: Dawson
KAFFEE: Make no mistake about it: Harold Dawson and Louden Downey are sitting before you today because they did their job.
It occurs to me that the defense basically paid no mind at all to the Conduct Unbecoming charge. Probably just as well in light of the other charges, but on that charge this last statement doesn’t help their case at all.
DROPPED Verbal Tic: How ya doin’
ROSS: Mr. McGuire, would you raise your right hand, please?
In the draft screenplay, we get Kaffee throwing a “how ya doin’” at an unresponsive Dawson while Mr. McGuire is sworn in. Instead, in the final product they just share a disconnected look.
NEW Sorkin Player: Arthur Senzy
Character: Robert C. McGuire
MCGUIRE: The shift reported only one sentry returned his weapon to the switch with a round of ammunition missing.
ROSS: Who was that?
MCGUIRE: Lance Corporal Harold Dawson.
…
KAFFEE: Lance Corporal Dawson’s been charge with a number of crimes. Why wasn’t he charged with firing at the enemy without cause?
MCGUIRE: There wasn’t enough evidence to support such a charge.
KAFFEE: Thank you.
ROSS: Mr. McGuire, I don’t understand what you mean when you say there wasn’t enough evidence to support such a charge. You had William Santiago’s letter.
And the missing rifle bullet?!
MCGUIRE: Santiago was the only eyewitness, I never had the chance to interview him, so I don’t know what he saw.
ROSS: And now we’ll never know, will we, Mr. McGuire?
I’m sorry, isn’t the missing rifle bullet quite literally a smoking gun? You could have inspected the scene of Dawson’s post to see it wasn’t misfired into the ground, saw no corresponding bullet hole from his mirror, and called it there, no? What am I missing?
HAMMAKER: Corporal Card Edward Hammaker, Marine Barracks, Rifle Security Company Windward, Second Platoon Bravo.
Once again, unlike in the screenplay, everyone is a Bravo member. It should be noted that the interview of this rifleman, as well as the later stipulation trade on interviewing the rest of the riflemen, is not present in the stageplay, where instead their sworn statements are read into the record like the defendants’ sworn confessions. I suppose it makes less sense to do that now given that the Code Red order is in a separate meeting now — or the supposed order, I suppose I should say.
KAFFEE: The defense is willing to concede that all 22 witnesses will testify substantially as Corporal Hammaker did if the government is willing to concede that none of them were in Dawson and Downey’s room at 16:20 on September 6th.
RANDOLPH: (to Ross) Captain?
Between script and shoot, Ross was promoted from Lieutenant to Captain. Congrats, man!
KAFFEE: I want to go over the doctor again…
In the draft screenplay, this scene was originally part of the previous pre-montage scene with the blackboard — presumably it was split in half to better separate the two days of courtroom scenes.
GALLOWAY: The doctor’s not telling the truth!
KAFFEE: Oh, that’s a relief. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to use the “liar, liar, pants on fire” defense. We can’t prove coercion!
You don’t have to! Damnit, Kaffee, why can’t you be consistent?!
ROSS: Dr. Stone, what is lactic acidosis?
STONE: If the muscles and other cells of the body burn sugar instead of oxygen, lactic acid is produced. That lactic acid is what caused Santiago’s lungs to bleed.
ROSS: Normally how long does it take for the muscles and other cells to begin burning sugar instead of oxygen?
“Cut! Wait — never mind, there’s just a typo in the script, keep going.”
KAFFEE: Commander, if I had a coronary condition, and a perfectly clean rag was placed in my mouth and the rag was accidentally pushed too far down, is it possible that my cells would continue burning sugar after the rag was taken out?
STONE: It would have to be a very serious condition.
KAFFEE: Is it possible to have a serious coronary condition where the initial warning signals were so mild as to escape a physician during a routine medical exam?
STONE: (beat) Possibly. There would still be symptoms, though.
KAFFEE: What kind of symptoms?
STONE: There are hundreds of—
KAFFEE: Chest pains?
STONE: Yes.
KAFFEE: Shortness of breath?
STONE: Yes.
KAFFEE: Fatigue?
STONE: Of course.
(Kaffee grabs a document from the defense table)
KAFFEE: Doctor, is this your signature?
STONE: Yes, it is.
KAFFEE: (to the members) This is an order for Private Santiago to be put on restricted duty. (to Stone) Would you read your handwritten remarks at the bottom of the page, please?
STONE: (reading) “Initial testing, negative. Patient complains of chest pains, shortness of breath, and fatigue. Restricted from running distances over five miles for one week.”
Any good defense lawyer would tell you this is where the cross should end — in fact, it’s where the cross ends in the stageplay!
KAFFEE: Commander, isn’t it possible that Santiago had a serious coronary condition and it was that condition and not some mysterious poison that caused the accelerated chemical reaction?
Damnit, Kaffee…
STONE: No. I personally give each man a thorough physical examination.
“That’s hot — wait, what?”
STONE: Private Santiago was given a clean bill of health.
KAFFEE: That’s why it had to be poison, right, Commander? Because if you put a man with a serious coronary condition on duty, and that man died from a heart-related incident, you’d have a lot to answer for, wouldn’t you, Doctor?
ROSS: Object! Move to strike.
RANDOLPH: Sustained.
I’m willing to bet the reason having the cross overheat was added was to compensate for this: in the original stageplay, the meeting between Dr. Stone and Colonel Jessup was explicitly shown. In that scene, it’s made unambiguous that Jessup pressured Stone into issuing a poisoning CoD with a promise to bring the doctor to Washington with him when he gets his Security Council promotion. Once again, the cut adds to the ambiguity that the audience is simply expected to fill in with sympathy for the defense. This addition to the cross, though, comes close to insulting the audience’s intelligence, in my opinion.
NEW Dialogue Motif: Whatever it is you do/did
KAFFEE: Take the night off, go see your wife, go see your daughter. Jo, go do… whatever it is you do when you’re not here.
Stunning specificity, man…
NEW Plot Bunny: The Ambiguous Date Ask™
GALLOWAY: I was wondering if… how you’d feel about my taking you to dinner tonight?
KAFFEE: Are you asking me out on a date?
GALLOWAY: … No.
KAFFEE: Sounded like you were asking me out on a date.
GALLOWAY: I wasn’t.
KAFFEE: I’ve been asked out on dates before, and that’s what is sounded like.
That’s some Sorkinese 101 right there!
RETURNING Verbal Tic: Résumé recitation
Running count: 2
GALLOWAY: After that they moved me to Internal Affairs.
KAFFEE: Tough to blame them.
GALLOWAY: Where I have earned two meritorious service medals and two letters of commendation.
KAFFEE: … Why are you always giving me your résumé?
Way to lampshade it, Kaffee…
KAFFEE: Jo, I think… I think you should prepare yourself for the fact that we’re gonna lose. Ross’s opening statement, it was all true. I mean, let’s pretend for a minute that it would actually matter that the guys were given an order. I can’t prove it ever happened.
YOU DON’T NEED TO!! Ah, what the hell…
KAFFEE: Have you ever received a Code Red?
HOWARDBARNES: Yes, sir. We were doing seven man assault drills, and my weapon slipped. It was because it was over 100 degrees and my palms were sweaty and I’d forgotten to use the resin like we were taught.KAFFEE: What happened?
BARNES: That night, the guys in my squad threw a blanket over me, took turns punching me in the arm for five minutes, then they poured glue on my hands. And it worked too, because I ain’t never dropped my weapon since.
Interesting thing to note: in the original stageplay, this Marine’s testimony reveals the unit took him out for a beer after his Code Red — thus further establishing that Code Reds are a commonplace item in the Marines with no ill will established after-the-fact. “Who knows?”, one is supposed to infer. “Perhaps Dawson and Downey would have taken Santiago out for a beer afterward.” That was only cut for time, I hope…
KAFFEE: Corporal, would you turn to the page in this book that says where the mess hall is, please?
BARNES: (chuckles) Lieutenant Kaffee, that’s not in the book, sir.
KAFFEE: You mean to say in all your time at Gitmo you’ve never had a meal?
BARNES: No, sir. Three squares a day, sir.
KAFFEE: I don’t understand. How did you know where the mess hall was if it’s not in this book?
BARNES: Well, I guess I just followed the crowd at chow time, sire.
Once again, something not present in the draft screenplay is restored from the stageplay, this time the two-line bit where Kaffee infers Barnes never ate at Gitmo. I really have to wonder who’s responsible for adding these pieces back in, since Mr. Sorkin didn’t seem particularly attached to them himself when writing the draft.
KAFFEE: Hey, Luther.
LUTHER: Admiral, how’s the big case going?
KAFFEE: Nose to the grindstone.
LUTHER: No flies on you.
KAFFEE: A rolling stone gathers no moss.
LUTHER: Well, it ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings.
KAFFEE: You can say that again.
Once again, like with the last Luther exchange the final line got changed, but this time to our benefit:
RETURNING Dialogue Motif: Walk[ed] into that [one]
Previous instance: earlier in this movie
LUTHER: (repeating) It ain’t over [‘til the fat lady sings].
KAFFEE: (overlapping) [‘Til the fat lady sings]… walked into that one.
(KAFFEE enters his car and starts driving, only to get startled by MARKINSON in the back seat)
Okay… I guess Luther was primarily a device to have Kaffee distracted while Markinson enters his car? If it weren’t for the judge being Black, I’d say we have ourselves a Black-brushed-aside situation — like that awkward bit with the Black kid in After the Thin Man. (You’ll know it when you see it.)
NEW Dialogue Motif: I know everything
KAFFEE: What do you know?
MARKINSON: I know everything.
“Damn, really? I could use you like a Reader’s Digest Condensed on All Human Knowledge — no, wait, that’s not what you meant.”
MARKINSON: Jessup was gonna keep him on the base. He said he wanted him trained.
KAFFEE: We’ve got the transfer order, it’s got your signature.
MARKINSON: Yeah, I know — I signed it the morning you arrived in Cuba, five days after Santiago died.
It should be noted that in the stageplay, Markinson never contacts Kaffee in person, instead sending a letter which dumps out everything we hear in this scene and the next.
GALLOWAY: Where is he?
KAFFEE: The Downtown Lodge in Northeast.
Huh… I guess not enough money was exchanged to have Best Western’s name dropped?
GALLOWAY: Sam, when a flight takes off, there’s a record kept, right?
WEINBERG: Yeah, you need the Tower Chief’s log from Gitmo.
KAFFEE: Get it.
In the stageplay, Markinson included with his letter two photocopies, one of the Gitmo tower chief’s log and one of the Andrews log, which in a previous scene were shown to be obtained by Markinson holding the records keeper at gunpoint. The removal of that bit necessitated a rearrangement in how the logs are treated later.
NEW Dialogue Motif: Beat the shit out of X
KAFFEE: I wanna tell you that I think the whole fucking bunch of you are certifiably insane. This code of honor of yours makes me want to beat the shit out of something.
NEW Dialogue Motif: Represent without passion or prejudice
ROSS: Don’t you dare lump me in with Jessup and Kendrick just ‘cause we wear the same uniform. I’m your friend, and I’m telling you, I don’t think your clients belong in jail, but I don’t get to make that decision. I represent the Government of the United States without passion or prejudice.
Man, I could never make it as a lawyer. If I had to represent someone whose case I didn’t believe in, I just couldn’t do it. Probably why I was never a Marine, either — that, and my inability to climb a rope…
KAFFEE: You’re a lousy fucking softball player, Jack!
Huh? What does that have to do with anything?
KAFFEE: Lieutenant, these are the last three pro-con reports you signed for Lance Corporal Dawson. Dawson received two marks of exceptional, but on this most recent report dated June 9th of this year he received a rating of below average. It’s this last report I’d like to discuss for a moment.
…
KAFFEE: Do you recall why Dawson was given such a poor grade on this report?
KENDRICK: I’m sure I don’t.
KENDRICK: The only proper authorities I’m aware of are my commanding officer Colonel Nathan R. Jessup and the Lord our God.
KAFFEE: At your request, Lieutenant Kendrick, I can have the record reflect your lack of acknowledgement of this Court as a proper authority.
ROSS: Objection, argumentative.
RANDOLPH: Sustained.
Really, Kaffee?
KAFFEE: Lieutenant, did you order Dawson and two other men to make sure that Private Bell received no food or drink except water for a period of seven days?
KENDRICK: That is a distortion of the truth, Lieutenant. Private Bell was placed on barracks restriction. He was given water and vitamin supplements, and I can assure you at no time… was his health in danger.
Lost from the stageplay is Kaffee entering a challenge to that assertion into the record indicating that Kendrick is not a medical professional and therefore doesn’t have the standing to say Bell’s health was in no danger. That was also only cut for time, I hope…
KAFFEE: Lieutenant Kendrick, was Dawson given a rating of below average on this last report because you learned he’d been sneaking food to Private Bell?
ROSS: Object!
RANDOLPH: Not so fast.
“Cut! Wait — never mind, another typo.”
KENDRICK: Lance Corporal Dawson was given a below average rating… because he had committed a crime.
Well, now, hold on, a moment ago you said you didn’t recall why Dawson received a Below Average. Which is it, man?
NEW Topical Signature: Wartime vs. peacetime orders
KENDRICK: Lance Corporal Dawson disobeyed an order.
KAFFEE: Yeah, but it wasn’t a real order, was it? After all, it’s peacetime! He wasn’t being asked to secure a hill or advance on a beachhead. I mean, surely a Marine of Dawson’s intelligence can be trusted to determine on his own which are the important orders and which orders might, say, be morally questionable?
If only that were the case…
KAFFEE: If you had ordered Dawson to give Santiago a Code Red —
KENDRICK: I specifically ordered those men [not to touch Santiago]!
KAFFEE: (overlapping) [— is it reasonable to think that he would’ve] disobeyed you again?
ROSS: Lieutenant, don’t answer that!
KAFFEE: You don’t have to, I’m through.
Hey, now you’re finally getting it, Kaffee! Good shit!
ROSS: Lieutenant Kendrick, did you order Lance Corporal Dawson and Private Downey to give Willy Santiago a Code Red? (waits for response) Lieutenant Kendrick, did you —
KENDRICK: (interrupting) No, I did not.
As mentioned previously, Kendrick was likely able to give this answer with a straight face because, as the stageplay depicted, he never actually said the words “Code Red” to Dawson. He already demonstrated an over-flexibility in defining a Code Red during his testimony, so it’s not a stretch for him to say he didn’t order one here.
KAFFEE: There was no flight out at 11:00. What the fuck are you trying to pull?
MARKINSON: The first flight stateside left Guantanamo Bay at 2300. It arrive at Andrews Air Force Base, Maryland at a few minutes past two in the morning.
KAFFEE: Really? Then why isn’t it listed in the Tower Chief’s log?
MARKINSON: (sags in defeat) Jessup…
Alright, a lot got changed here: in the draft screenplay, Markinson knew from the beginning that the Tower Chiefs’ logs would be doctored and gave Kaffee grief for thinking otherwise, which got changed to Markinson realizing in the moment Jessup had that power. I’m honestly torn about which way I like it better — I suspect what may have happened is the scene was shot both ways and the way that ended up in the final product was the one that was easier to direct. “His face says that Kaffee was born yesterday.” That’s a hell of a stage direction to ask from an actor.
Either way, it’s completely different from how it is in the stageplay. As I mentioned earlier, Markinson mailed photocopies of the logbooks to Kaffee and co. before they were doctored. However, our intrepid defense attorneys knew the photocopies were inadmissible, and upon gathering information that said photocopies were obtained at gunpoint, Kaffee immediately dismisses Galloway’s suggestion to get the originals by noting Jessup likely fixed the logbooks after hearing about the hold-up himself. In the movie timeline, Jessup presumably instead fixed the logbooks when Kaffee visited Cuba, like he did with the phony transfer order.
KAFFEE: Forget the flight. Markinson will testify that Jessup refused to transfer Santiago. He’ll testify to the forged transfer, and that’ll be enough. That and Downey’s testimony really ought to be enough.
Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, my guy.
MARKINSON: (letter V.O.) Dear Mr. and Mrs. Santiago: I was William’s executive officer.
Alright, apparently we need to clarify the chain-of-command terminology for the Marines, because Mr. Sorkin wrote it differently in both the draft screenplay and the stageplay from how it is in the final product. As the second-in-command for Windward, Markinson indeed should be called the Executive Officer, even though he’s referred to as the Company Commander in both scripts, which is the designation that should go to Jessup instead. The screenplay even refers to Kendrick as the Executive Officer during Downey’s practice session earlier, which thankfully got cut, as Platoon Commander is the more fitting title for Kendrick — which thankfully was correctly written for the next scene. All that is another case of script supervisor fact check to the rescue!
ROSS: How far is it from Post 39 to the Windward Barracks?
DOWNEY: Well, it’s a ways, sir. It’s a hike.
ROSS: About how far by Jeep?
(Kaffee writes to Jo on their notepad: “Where’s he going with this?”)
DOWNEY: About then or fifteen minutes, sir.
(Jo scribbles a reply: “?”)
What was a point of dramatic irony in the stageplay, since Downey is shown to have been absent for the order to “get their house in order”, is now revealed to the audience at the same time as the defense for the movie. Whether inadvertent or not, this change ends up serving as a device to make the audience more sympathetic to the defense.
DAWSON: Private, answer the Captain’s question!
DOWNEY: (pause) Yes, Captain, I was given an order by my squad leader Lance Corporal Harold W. Dawson, United States Marine Corps, and I followed it.
Oops.
GALLOWAY: As far as Downey was concerned, it was an order from Kendrick. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t hear it first-hand.
(Sam remains silent; Kaffee arrives home)
GALLOWAY: Danny, I’m sorry.
KAFFEE: Don’t worry about it.
GALLOWAY: Sam and I were just talking…
Well, it was kind of a one-sided conversation, actually…
GALLOWAY: Let’s put Jessup on the stand and end this thing!
KAFFEE: What possible good could come from putting Jessup on the stand?
GALLOWAY: He told Kendrick to order the Code Red.
KAFFEE: He did? That’s great! Why didn’t you say so?! And, of course, you have proof of that! Oh, I’m sorry, I keep forgetting, you were sick the day they taught law at law school!
Damn, your law school track taught the entirety of law in a single day? No wonder you keep forgetting about the principle of reasonable doubt…
GALLOWAY: You put him on the stand, and you get it from him.
KAFFEE: Oh, we get it from him. Great! No problem. (toward Sam) Colonel Jessup, isn’t it true that you ordered the Code Red on Santiago?
WEINBERG: Listen, we’re all a little—
KAFFEE: (makes a buzzer noise)
Okay, that buzzer noise isn’t in the script, but it should be noted that, believe it or not, this won’t be the last time an actor adds in a buzzer noise to a Sorkin work. Brownie points to whoever can name another work!
KAFFEE: Well, for our defendants, it’s a lifetime at exotic Fort Leavenworth. And for defense counsel Kaffee? That’s right! It’s a court-martial!
Alright, I’m probably reading too much into this, but I really have to wonder why the way the draft script is typeset has cases where a split-page line doesn’t fill out the whole last line of the first page before breaking into the second page, which happens multiple times. The reason I bring it up now? There’s an addition to this line in the stageplay that isn’t present in the screenplay right where the page break is: Kaffee cracks that “every day is Valentine’s Day” at Leavenworth. (Ouch.) Could that originally have been typed in but removed after the fact without fixing the page break? Again, I’m almost certainly reading too much into this.
NEW Dialogue Motif: The Unimpressive Demotion™
KAFFEE: Yes, Johnny! After falsely accusing a highly decorated Marine officer of conspiracy and perjury, Lieutenant Kaffee will have a long and prosperous career teaching… typewriter maintenance at the Rocco Columbo School for Women!
And here’s the first of a Sorkinism that I like to call “the unimpressive demotion”. In this Sorkinism, someone cracks that either because of some action or if not for some action, the target of the crack will be or would be in a considerably less impressive occupation — in this case, slandering a Marine officer would demote Kaffee to a women’s school teacher.
Side note: the Rocco Columbo School for Women does not exist. The closest I could find to something it could be referencing was a heavyweight boxer named Rocco Columbo who died in 1964, but I have no clue why he’d be written to have Kaffee name a women’s school after him.
NEW Non-Verbal Signature: Table sweep
KAFFEE: Thank you for playing “Should We or Should We Not Follow the Advice of the Galactically Stupid”!
(KAFFEE sweeps the table in rage; GALLOWAY needs a few beats of silence to recover)
GALLOWAY: I’m sorry I lost you your set of steak knives.
Written out of the screenplay from the stageplay is Kaffee telling Galloway to “get the fuck out” after that crack — good call cutting that, in my opinion.
NEW Dialogue Motif: Father annoys the neighbors
KAFFEE: Is your father proud of you?
WEINBERG: Don’t do this to yourself.
KAFFEE: I’ll bet he is. I’ll be he bores the shit out of the neighbors and relatives. “Sam’s made Law Review. He’s got a big case he’s making… he’s arguing, he’s making an argument”.
Yeah, I’m sure he’s proud of his son having no responsibilities whatsoever.
NEW Verbal Tic: Here’s the thing
KAFFEE: Would you put Jessup on the stand?
WEINBERG: No.
KAFFEE: You think my father would have?
WEINBERG: With the evidence we got? Not in a million years. But here’s the thing, and there’s really no way of getting around this: neither Lionel Kaffee nor Sam Weinberg are lead counsel for the defense in the matter of U.S. versus Dawson and Downey. So there’s really only one question: what would you do?
(in announcer voice) “The following morning…”
NEW Sorkin Drink: Jack Daniels
WEINBERG: Look at this. Last night he’s swimming in Jack Daniels, now he can leap tall buildings in a single bound.
And while he may not be faster than a speeding bullet, his mouth sure can be.
WEINBERG: You think you can get him to say it?
KAFFEE: I think he wants to say it. I think he’s pissed off that he’s gotta hide from us. I think he wants to say that he made a command decision, and that’s the end. (rolls into Jessup impersonation) He eats breakfast 300 yars away from 4000 Cubans that are trained to kill him.
Well, Jim Meskimen you ain’t…
KAFFEE: No one’s gonna tell him how to run his unit — least of all the Harvard mouth in his f****ty white uniform.
Really? You’re gonna drop the f-word again when the script says something different? Fuckin’ scientologists, man…
(Kaffee rolls his bat over his neatly-organized clothes in his closet)
And here’s the payoff of our “show, don’t tell” from earlier: unlike in the stageplay where the discrepancy of Santiago’s foot locker is verbally fed to the audience, the movie instead shows the audience a shot of Kaffee’s closet paralleling the previous shot in Cuba, allowing for the audience to put it together for themselves alongside Kaffee. Mr. Sorkin learned well from his teachers on this one.
GALLOWAY: Listen, Danny… when you’re out there today… if you feel like it’s not gonna happen… if you feel like he’s not gonna say it.. don’t go for it. (beat) You could get in trouble. (beat) I’m special counsel for Internal Affairs, and I’m telling you, you could get in a lot of trouble.
Oh, now you remember that, you Brat…
KAFFEE: Why, Lieutenant Commander Galloway, you’re not suggesting that I back off a material witness?
GALLOWAY: If you think you can’t get him, yeah.
(long pause)
SERGEANT-AT-ARMS: (V.O.) All rise.
This is not how that scene ends in the screenplay: the screenplay has Galloway admit her weakness as a defense attorney, only to have Kaffee return with a compliment out of nowhere (“You’re my hero, Joanne”). Good choice to cut that, I’d say — we’ll get more into why in a moment.
KAFFEE: Colonel, we have the transfer order that you and Markinson co-signed ordering that Santiago be on a flight leaving Guantanamo at 6:00 the next morning. Was that the first flight off the base?
“Cut! Come on, Tom — wait, never mind, there’s just another typo in the script. Keep going.”
ROSS: Please the Court, is this dialogue relevant to anything in particular?
KAFFEE: The defense didn’t have an opportunity to depose this witness, your Honor. I’d ask the Court for a little latitude.
Wait, what? Why wasn’t there a deposition first? Surely there should at least have been some voir dire performed to establish Jessup’s relevance to the case without the members of the Court present. I learned about how that works from another movie…foreshadowing detected
KAFFEE: I’m wondering why Santiago wasn’t packed.
The editor of this film evidently didn’t care to follow the stage direction here: “That landed. On the JURY [sic], RANDOLPH, ROSS…” What do we see instead? Jessup, and only Jessup — not even any shot of the members of the Court raising an eyebrow or chin in response, which frankly was the point of the line in the first place. Curious…
KAFFEE: You were leaving for one day, you packed a bag and made three phone calls. Santiago was leaving for the rest of his life… and he hadn’t called a soul… and he hadn’t packed a thing.
If this were any other trial, I’d indicate to Kaffee that the examination can end there. He’s established all the reasonable doubt he needs to, in my opinion. This isn’t any other trial, though.
KAFFEE: Can you explain that?
NEW Dialogue Motif: I’m an educated man
JESSUP: I’m an educated man, but I’m afraid I can’t speak intelligently about the travel habits of William Santiago.
Damn, no need to brag or anything…
JESSUP: Thanks, Danny, I love Washington.
Hey, he knows where he is! That’s a step up!
KAFFEE: Your Honor, these are the Tower Chiefs’ logs for both Guantanamo Bay and Andrews Air Force Base. The Guantanamo log lists no flight that left at 11pm, the Andrews log lists no flight that landed at 2am. I’d like to admit them as defense exhibits Alpha and Bravo.
RANDOLPH: I don’t understand. You’re admitting evidence of a flight that never existed?
KAFFEE: Oh, we believe it did, sir.
This is a hell of a bluff, man. First you enter in evidence which contradicts your story while claiming the evidence was doctored, then you show the faces of two men who have no fucking clue why they’re there and claim they’ll prove the doctoring. You’re treading on thin ground, there…
NEW Sorkin Name: O’Malley
KAFFEE: Defense’ll be calling Airman Cecil O’Malley and Airman Anthony Rodriguez.
Another rename: Perez became Rodriguez. What possible reason could there have been to make that rename necessary?
ROSS: Your Honor, these men weren’t on the list.
GALLOWAY: Rebuttal witnesses, your Honor…
“Cut! Wait, never mind, just another script typo.”
JESSUP: This is ridiculous.
KAFFEE: Colonel, a moment ago—
JESSUP: Check the tower logs, for Christ’s sake!
Holy shit, the bluff’s actually working, Jessup’s losing his cool…
JESSUP: Have you ever served in an infantry unit, son?
KAFFEE: No, sir.
JESSUP: Ever served in a forward area?
KAFFEE: No, sir.
JESSUP: Ever put your life in another man’s hands? Asked him to put his life in yours?
“Well… there was that one time — wait, you didn’t mean it like that.”
KAFFEE: If you gave an order that Santiago wasn’t to be touched… and your orders are always followed… then why would Santiago be in danger? (beat) Why would it be necessary to transfer him off the base?
The armor piercing question! If you read the script for the stageplay, the ask is the same there, but reportedly Mr. Sorkin actually changed the stageplay after-the-fact to match the plot beat in the movie after taking much of what he learned from William Goldman to heart. I can only imagine how it originally was in the stageplay…
JESSUP: Sometimes men take matters into their own hands.
KAFFEE: No, sir, you made it clear that your men never take matters into their own hands. Your men follow orders or people die. So Santiago shouldn’t have been in any danger at all, should he have, Colonel?
Present in the stageplay but missing from the screenplay and movie is Kaffee riffing about the situation being a paradox, which I’d be willing to believe is an underhanded Pirates of Penzance reference. Too bad that got cut…
KAFFEE: If Lieutenant Kendrick gave an order that Santiago wasn’t to be touched, then why did he have to be transferred?
Once again, if this were any other trial, the examination could end here. The members of the Court are practically swimming in reasonable doubt. However, the entry of the logbooks and the Airmen make that impossible.
KAFFEE: Lieutenant Kendrick ordered the Code Red, didn’t he? Because that’s what you told Lieutenant Kendrick to do.
ROSS: Object!
KAFFEE: And when it went bad —
RANDOLPH: That will be all, [counselor.]
KAFFEE: (pushing through) [— you cut] these guys loose!
ROSS: Your Honor!
RANDOLPH: [Counselor, I’ll hold you in contempt.]
KAFFEE: (still overriding) [You had Markinson sign a phony transfer] order —
ROSS: Your Honor!
KAFFEE: — you doctored the log books —
ROSS: Damnit, Kaffee!
KAFFEE: — you coerced the doctor! [Now I’m asking you —]
RANDOLPH: [Consider yourself in contempt!]
And for one last time, something from the stageplay that didn’t make it into the screenplay was restored for the movie: Kaffee’s inclusion of coercing the doctor in this rant. I’m starting to think the script supervisor was just as familiar with the stageplay as Mr. Sorkin himself.
JESSUP: You want answers?
KAFFEE: I think I’m entitled.
JESSUP: You want answers?
KAFFEE: I want the truth!
JESSUP: You can’t handle the truth!
“He said the thing!”
JESSUP: Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who’s gonna do it? You? You, Lieutenant Weinberg?
Wait, was that supposed to be an antisemitic crack? Having the one other person he points to be the token Jew? Or is it just that he finds the idea of the female attorney at the defense table standing a post a laughable one? Either way, fuck you, Jessup.
NEW Dialogue Motif: Time and inclination
JESSUP: I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the freedom I provide and then questions the manner in which I provide it.
NEW Verbal Tic: Don’t give a damn
JESSUP: I would rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand a post. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you are entitled to!
KAFFEE: Did you order the Code Red?
JESSUP: I did the job [you sent me —]
KAFFEE: (overriding) [Did you order] the Code Red?!
JESSUP: You’re goddamn right I did!
(silence)
Okay, I know I said this project would mainly focus on textual analysis, but I just have to say I love the shot here of Dawson and Downey so much. You don’t direct Wolfgang Bodison, man, you just point a camera at him and get out of the way.
RANDOLPH: M.P.s, guard the Colonel.
Oh, come on! They really should have stuck to the script here. The screenplay has Judge Randolph saying “guard the prisoner” rather than the colonel, which is honestly such a powerful line that shouldn’t have been watered down.
JESSUP: You put people’s lives in danger. Sweet dreams, son.
Kaffee’s mind, probably: “I’m about to end this man’s whole career.”
KAFFEE: Don’t call me son. I’m a lawyer, and an officer in the United States Navy… and you’re under arrest, you son of a bitch. (pause) The witness is excused.
RANDOLPH: On the charge of murder, the members find the accused not guilty. On the charge of conspiracy to commit murder, the members find the accused not guilty. On the charge of conduct unbecoming a United States Marine, the members find the accused guilty as charged. The accused are hereby sentenced to time already served, and you are ordered to be dishonorably discharged from the Marine Corps. This court-martial is adjourned.
SERGEANT-AT-ARMS: All rise.
(courtroom empties except for defense, defendants, their family, and a couple of M.P.s; Dawson steps forward in a daze)
DOWNEY: What does that mean? (pause) Hal? What did that mean?
Alrighty — here’s a case where I think Mr. Sorkin ended up falling short with the draft screenplay. As with the stageplay, in the screenplay Sam basically has to lead Dawson to the answer to ‘why’. Instead, in the movie we have the correct thing happen:
DOWNEY: What did we do wrong? We did nothing wrong!
DAWSON: Yeah, we did. (beat) We were supposed to fight for people who couldn’t fight for themselves. (beat) We were supposed to fight for Willie.
Having Dawson work it out himself is infinitely better than how it was originally written, if for no other reason than it makes this following exchange make much more sense.
KAFFEE: Harold?
DAWSON: Sir?
KAFFEE: You don’t need to wear a patch on your arm to have honor.
This line lands so well in the movie. Now imagine if Kaffee had said that apropos of nothing — that’s basically how it is in the stageplay and draft screenplay. Mr. Sorkin had to be led to the water on this one, it seems.
ROSS: Strong witnesses.
KAFFEE: And handsome too, don’t you think?
“Ugh, get a room, Kaffee.”
ROSS: I’ll see you around campus. I gotta go arrest Kendrick.
KAFFEE: Tell him I say hi.
ROSS: Will do.
(THE END screen)
This is not how the movie ends in the draft screenplay. In the screenplay as with the stageplay, there’s an additional post-court scene where a rather hyper Galloway is looking to celebrate with the boys, which turns into Kaffee asking her out for a proper date — after which Galloway kisses him out of nowhere. Let me just be the first to say:
THANK FUCK THAT GOT CUT
I’ve already griped about how Galloway’s character felt a little flatted by the screenplay, but this scene really would have made it unbearable. It seems early Mr. Sorkin didn’t know how to end a screenplay — he took after Alfred Hitchcock, I suppose…
[VERTIGO] NUN: God have mercy… (rings bell)
Alright, let’s talk big picture: how does A Few Good Men stack up? I’d say for a first screenplay, Mr. Sorkin did a fantastic job. Much of his language does just as well on the screen as it does on the stage, thankfully for him, so in that regard he had nothing to worry about. He did show some growing pains along the way, however, when it came to plot adaptation and coherence, most of which ended up being corrected by script supervisor and/or director. Overall, though, he definitely did well with absorbing elements of the idiom of filmmaking that certainly made life easier for him as his career progressed — and he didn’t even have to shoot any cows to film it! The shift from dramatic irony to drip-fed ambiguity in particular made for some very powerful moments.
Now, I will say as far as this project is concerned, this entry and the next few will likely go differently from the rest. There were plenty of Sorkinisms I presented herein which will be seen again later, but I want to avoid spoiling future entries as much as possible. In future entries, when we come across a recurrence of a Sorkinism, the previous instances will be listed with the current instance, but I don’t want to do the other way around. As a result, the first few entries are inevitably going to be rather dry to start. Once again, though, the “show, don’t tell” policy makes for better payoffs, in my opinion.
If you liked what you read, I’d like to recommend you subscribe to this blog so you can be among the first to know when the next entry is posted. I do want to say up front, I can’t promise these entries will be on a schedule of any sort, as I do have a full-time job that I have no intention of ever quitting, so subscribing really is the only means of knowing for sure when entries are posted without just guessing. Coming up next: the strange case of the disappearance of a Dr. Lillienfield.
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