NUCLEAR REACTIONS takes place in a small Northern California town in October, 1962. It's the story of Jack Ramsay, owner of the local TV station, and his family during the Cuban missile crisis. Actually, it's the story of the entire town - and how they react when they think the big one is on the way. Weirdly enough, this script was inspired by real events.

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FADE IN:
INT. TV STATION - CONTROL ROOM - NIGHT

CLOSE on a television screen as a flowery orchestral version of the 'National Anthem' plays over a BLACK AND WHITE montage of patriotic scenes: cars roll off an assembly line... Air Force jets scream through the sky... endless fields of wheat sway in the breeze... Joe DiMaggio strokes a hit... Marines raise the flag on Iwo Jima... John and Jackie Kennedy smile and wave... a glowing mushroom cloud rises... and an American flag waves crisply in a stiff breeze as the song comes to an end. A voice-over announcer speaks solemnly.

JACK(o.s.)
KBOB now ends its broadcast day.
Transmitting out of Fairvale, California
on VHF channel twelve, KBOB is owned
and operated by the Ramsay Broadcast
Group. We will resume broadcasting this
morning at eight a.m. Until then, goodnight.

As the announcer speaks we PULL BACK to reveal the control room of KBOB-TV. JACK RAMSAY and WALTER HARRIS sit at the control panel, putting the finishing touches on the sign off tape. Jack, 39, provides the voice-over. Walter is in his mid-fifties, balding, with a calmness that is in contrast to Jack's boundless energy.

JACK
(leans back)
So? What do you think?

WALTER
I don't know - it seems a little flashy.

JACK
Well, it beats the hell out of what
we've got now. A still photo of the
American flag with Biff doing his
voice-over... "This concludes our
broadcast day. Go to bed now. The
end." Come on.

Walter stands, stretching tiredly as Jack punches a few buttons on the control board.

WALTER
It's to the point.

JACK
So's a bankruptcy hearing, Walter.
If we're going to compete with bigger
stations we've got to start acting
like one. What time is it, anyway?

WALTER
(looks at watch)
Good lord, it's 1:30. I didn't know
it was this late. The wife's going
to kill me.

JACK
Not me. Jan's too smart for that.
If she killed me she wouldn't be
able to complain about me anymore.

EXT. TV STATION - NIGHT

Jack and Walter step out the front door of KBOB - an old house converted into a TV station. They walk to their cars, past the transmission tower which rises from the front yard next to a rusted out swingset.

JACK
That's the problem with Jan - she
doesn't understand what's going
on here. We're pioneers, on the
cutting edge of technology. You
think Lewis and Clark's wives
complained they weren't home for
dinner every night?

WALTER
Probably.

JACK
Did I tell you I've got a new
idea for a game show?

Walter sighs, uninterested.

WALTER
We already have a game show.

Jack frowns, muttering under his breath.

JACK
'Name That Wood'.

WALTER
'Name That Wood' is a very popular
show. It's been on this station since
we first began broadcasting. It's
a tradition.

JACK
It's a show for yokels.

WALTER
You've only been running this
station for six months, Jack.
You need to get a better feel
for the people in this town.
The biggest thing that ever
happened here was when Sutter
discovered gold eighty miles
away - and then everyone left!

JACK
(ignoring him)
I'm talking about a game show
with a broader appeal. One that
could pull in some real ratings.
It's called 'Eat This'.

WALTER
(winces)
'Eat This'?

JACK
It'd be great. We make contestants
eat disgusting things for money.
It'd have to be food and all, but
I've been reading about all kinds
of foreign dishes. Do you know that
in Japan they eat monkey brains
right out of the skull?

Walter unlocks his car door.

WALTER
Goodnight, Jack.

JACK
In India they eat insects and sheep
eyes but they won't eat cows! Figure that!

WALTER
(grins)
Go home and go to bed, you're delirious.

JACK
Sure, that's what they say about
all geniuses.

WALTER
And people who don't get enough sleep.

Jack laughs as he and Walter climb into their cars.

                                                    CUT TO:
EXT. HOUSING TRACT - NIGHT

Jack's car rolls through a typical early 1960's housing development, passing row after row of identical, boxlike homes before pulling into a driveway. Jack climbs out of the car, closing the door as quietly as possible as he starts up the walkway. But instead of going in the front door, he steps around the side of the house.

EXT. RAMSAY HOUSE - BACK YARD - NIGHT

Moving behind the house, Jack checks the windows, making sure no one is up. Satisfied, he hurries to the family fallout shelter, which is buried under the back lawn. Unsealing the lid, he climbs down inside.

INT. RAMSAY BOMB SHELTER - NIGHT

Jack turns on the light - a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Old furniture, bikes, and boxes filled with clothes are piled everywhere. Jack opens a small box with the words 'FIRST AID' stenciled across the lid, removing a toothbrush, tube of toothpaste and plastic cup. Pumping distilled water from a rusty metal drum into the cup, he begins to brush his teeth. As he does he steps to a metal cabinet on the wall, the words 'OPEN IN THE EVENT OF NUCLEAR ATTACK' printed in bold letters. He opens it, pulling out a pair of pajamas.

EXT. RAMSAY HOUSE - BACK YARD - NIGHT

Jack emerges from the shelter, now wearing his pajamas and carrying his clothes under his arm. He quietly moves to the back door of the house, sneaking inside.

INT. RAMSAY HOUSE - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Jack tiptoes into the room, where his wife is asleep in her single bed. He weaves his way through the dark, skillfully avoiding every piece of furniture as he hangs up his suit and deposits his shirt in a clothes hamper. He sinks onto the mattress of his bed, closing his eyes with a contented sigh.

                                                    DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. ANDERSON HOUSE - DAWN

As the first rays of sunlight appear in the east, Jack's neighbor EARL ANDERSON steps proudly into his front yard, his seventeen year old son DWIGHT following tiredly. Moving to a flagpole, Earl unfolds an American flag, running it up the pole as Dwight blows a ragged version of 'Reveille' on his bugle. The neighborhood dogs begin to howl along.

INT. RAMSAY HOUSE - MASTER BEDROOM - DAWN

At the atrocious sound of the bugle Jack's wife stirs, sitting up in bed. JAN RAMSAY is an attractive woman - not beautiful, but what might be called 'housewife pretty'. Pulling herself to her feet, she moves to the window, shaking her head as she watches Earl and Dwight's morning ritual.

JAN
They've been doing that for the
past six months. You'd think he'd
have learned to play it by now.

She turns to Jack, who doesn't respond, sound asleep. Jan smiles - until she notices Jack's feet sticking out from under the covers. His shoes are still on, grass stuck to them. She frowns in disgust.

JAN
Every night...

She steps to Jack's bed, calling to him over the sound of the bugle.

JAN
Jack - wake up.
(he doesn't stir)
Jack!

When he still doesn't awaken Jan glances around the room, spotting a vacuum cleaner resting in the corner. She plugs it in, turning it on with a roar. Jack doesn't stir. She bangs the vacuum against the side of the bed. Nothing. She finally unhooks the extension and holds the hose to his cheek - creating a horrible sucking noise on contact. Jack jumps up, prying the vacuum hose from his face.

JACK
Ow! What are you doing? I'm
trying to sleep here!

JAN
(turns off vacuum)
You worked all night again, didn't
you? If you paid as much attention
to your family as you do to that
station you'd be another Ozzie Nelson.

Jack sits back down, rubbing his face gingerly - a perfect, round hickey on his cheek.

JACK
Yeah, well I don't look good
in a crew cut and cardigan.
(takes a calming breath)
Look, I'm sorry, but I'm trying to
run a TV station. It takes a lot
of work to get it off the ground.
Think of it as paying dues.

JAN
You said that six months ago when
we moved here. You're almost forty
years old. At what point does this
stop being dues paying and start
being our lives?

CAROL RAMSAY, 10, appears in the doorway. She looks at her parents tiredly.

CAROL
What's happening?

Jack and Jan turn, surprised. They quickly put on fake smiles.

JACK
(too cheerful)
Nothing's happening, sweetie. Does
it look like anything's happening?

CAROL
It's six in the morning, mommy's
vacuuming, you're wearing black
shoes with your pajamas, and
you're yelling at each other.

Jan steps to Carol, escorting her out of the room as Jack pulls off his shoes.

JAN
See? Nothing's happening. Now go
wake up your brother and get ready
for school. I'll start breakfast.

As Jan starts down the hallway Jack calls after her.

JACK
Wait a minute, where are you going?
I thought you wanted to talk.

JAN
(sticks head into room)
I don't want to talk now. Go to sleep.

She slams the door behind her. Jack falls back onto his bed, quiet for a moment.

JACK
(aggravated)
Now I can't sleep!

Outside the window we can see Dwight Anderson blowing so hard that the bugle shoots out of his hands, flying across the yard and hitting his father in the head.

                                                    CUT TO:
INT. RAMSAY HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY

Jan busily prepares breakfast while Jack tries to stay awake by reading the morning paper, a photo of President Kennedy on the front page. Lowering the newspaper, Jack studies ELLIOT RAMSAY, his 17 year old son. An earnest young man, Elliot has an obvious fondness for turtleneck sweaters and Kennedy pompadours. He grins at his father - bearing an eerie resemblance to the photo in the paper.

JACK
(playfully)
There's a pretty harsh editorial
here about your hero.

ELLIOT
The press should leave the
president alone. If he's not
free to act as he sees fit this
country could be in real trouble.

JACK
Right. Next thing you know we'll
be living in a democracy.

Jan steps up, placing a plate of toast on the table. Jack beams a friendly, peace- offering smile. Ignoring him, she calls up the stairs.

JAN
Carol! Get down here this instant
and eat your breakfast! People are
starving in...

She looks to Elliot for help.

ELLIOT
India, Pakistan, and throughout
Africa. Is there any jam?

INT. RAMSAY HOUSE - CAROL'S ROOM

Carol doesn't hear her mother call. Little Eva sings 'The Loco-motion' on a pink, portable record player as Carol dances around the room, chewing gum and smoking a cigarette. She follows a drag on the cigarette by blowing a bubble, popping it with her finger and watching the smoke waft away.

INT. KITCHEN

Jan sets a platter of scrambled eggs on the table in front of Jack, ignoring his grin and wink. Elliot speaks passionately, jam around his mouth.

ELLIOT
That's why I want to join the Peace
Corps. It' s this country's duty to
bring the American way of life to
primitive cultures. I mean, if they've
got a food shortage then we should be
there building missions and supermarkets.

A horn sounds outside. Jan calls to Carol again.

JAN
Carol! It's your bus! Hurry!

Trudging into the kitchen, Carol grumbles sullenly, Elliot mouthing her words exactly.

CAROL
I can't go. I feel sick.

Jan hands Carol her 'Elvis Presley' lunchbox.

JAN
That's because you didn't eat any
breakfast. Have some food on the bus.
I made goulash casserole and a
banana for your lunch.

CAROL
Why can't I have a tuna sandwich
like the other kids?

Carol frowns as Jan kisses her on the forehead and points her toward the door. Carol exits, Jan sniffing the air questioningly.

JAN
Jack, are you smoking again? Remember
to put on a fresh shirt before the
dedication this afternoon.

Jack stares at her blankly.

JAN(Cont.)
The community bomb shelter dedication.
The one you're grand marshall of. The
one your daughter's taking part in.
The bomb shelter you single-handedly
forced them to build with all those
cold war editorials you ran on the air.

JACK
I didn't force them to do anything. I
was just trying to get ratings, I
can't help it if they believe everything
they hear on TV. Besides, the news
tickers are arriving today. I have to
get them hooked up in time for tonight's news.

Jan frowns, annoyed. Sensing trouble, Elliot finishes eating, jumping out of his chair.

ELLIOT
I'm late. Is my lunch ready?

Jan hands Elliot three sacks.

JAN
Here. Oh, wait a minute - I
forgot the sterno can.

ELLIOT
Not fondue again!

JAN
(handing him the can)
Don't lose the forks.

Elliot takes the can, kissing his mother on the cheek.

ELLIOT
Okay. 'Bye, mom.
(turns to Jack)
'Bye, dad. See you tomorrow at breakfast?

JACK
Do me a favor - see if they can do
something in english class about
that New England accent you've developed.

Elliot laughs as he leaves. Jan turns to Jack sourly.

JAN
The dedication is at three o'clock.
Don' t be late, I don't think the
parade people are as gentle and
understanding about those things as I am.

JACK
Don't be mad, honey. Once the tickers
are installed the station will run
itself. I'll be home all the time. I'll
be home so much you'll beg me to spend
more time at work!

Jan steps up behind him, draping her arms around his neck. She speaks softly, kissing his ear.

JAN
You know I'd never do that.

JACK
(smiles)
I know, I was just teasing you.
(kisses her)
Just like when I said I'd be home
all the time. I mean, I'll still
have to spend a lot of time at the
station, at least until things get
broken in...

Straightening, Jan sighs, frowning at Jack regretfully.

JAN
You really know how to preserve
the moment, Jack.

Jack watches as she exits - his hand moving unconsciously to the fading hickey on his cheek.

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Jack does indeed get his beloved news tickers. At news of the blockade of Cuba by American military forces he decides to stand watch at the station for any breaking news, which only succeeds in breaking up his marriage. The entire town is in a state of readiness and paranoia, setting the stage for Jack to misinterpret a story coming over the wire and announce that the bombs are on their way.

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