In this scene, Lucas as screenwriter needs to find an effective why to convey three elements:
- Padme is very surprised by the new evil Anakin;
- Anakin has changed; and
- Padme is heartbroken.
Let' see what delicate writing Lucas employs to convey these thoughts and feelings without being too obvious:
Don't you see, we don't have to run away anymore. I am more powerful than the Chancellor. I can overthrow him, and together you and I can rule the galaxy.
I don't believe what I'm hearing... Obi-Wan was right. You've changed.
I don't want to hear any more about Obi-Wan. The Jedi turned against me. Don't you turn against me.
I don't know you anymore. Anakin, you're breaking my heart.
In Lucas' defense, at the end of Revenge of the Sith, Padme-as diagnosed by a technologically retarded robot-does in fact die from a "broken heart." Lucas just couldn't afford to be too subtle in his wording.
Oliver Stone has a long track record of believing audiences are comprised of neurologically impaired pre-schoolers, but his offenses are usually visual. For example, in Platoon, the good guy, Sergeant Elias dies. How? In a Jesus Christ pose, of course! How else would you know he was a martyr? And in Nixon, Anthony Hopkins decides to issue the orders for the bombing of Cambodia while eating a rather rare steak. He looks down to see... what' this? Good Lord, there' blood on his hands! What could that mean?
Wall Street, however, forgoes visual bludgeoning for a verbal shellacking. You see, Charlie Sheen (Bud) can't figure out if he' a good-hearted working man like his pop, Martin Sheen, or a greedy, self-centered businessman like his boss, Michael Douglas. (Because, really, are there any other choices?)
But how to display that conflict? Now remember, this is New York City so, unfortunately, there aren't any giant New Jersey-style craters to explore. How to let the audience in on Charlie' internal conflict? Oh! Here' an idea! Maybe Charlie could look out over the New York City skyline and ask the audience-I mean, ask himself-"Who am I?" Check out the script:
EXT. BUD'S CONDO - TERRACE - NIGHT
Bud walks out alone in his blue bathrobe on his parapet overlooking Central Park. The wind stirs his hair. The East and West sides of the park wrap the city in a diamond necklace of brilliant light.
Bud stares down at the world. He has it all now. The money. The girl. The magic palace apartment. What more is there? Something...because Bud suddenly throws a wrenching dislocated look into himself that makes us wonder as he brushes his hand across his face and mutters to himself.
Who am I?
You can almost picture Oliver Stone sitting on the edge of your bed, explaining this scene to you in the smallest words possible.