ROBOCOP VISITS HIS GRAVE

Irvin Kershner deleted a grave yard scene in RoboCop 2. Paul Verhoeven deleted a similar sequence involving Murphy's visit to his own grave from the original RoboCop. In this case Verhoeven felt that the look of the sequence was "too gothic" and out of step with the look of the rest of the film and the scene never got done.

Below is the graveyard scene as featured in fourth script draft of RoboCop.

SALESMAN
Hey, have you thought it all over?
Why not make me an offer? I'm ready
to make a de...grkKK!

Robo shoves his fist through the screen.

EXT CEMETERY -- DUSK -- LIGHTENING FLASHES

in puddles and rain pours as Robo walks among the tombstones. Robo walks between wind whipped trees. Thunder rolls as lightening snakes across the sky.

ROBOVISION -- FLASHBACK

with each crack of lightening. The faces of the gang swirl in front of us, threatening, leering...Emil...Joe...Chan...Leon...Clarence. And now we come to a

WHITE MARKER

with a raised white cross which reads: ALEX MURPHY, Beloved Husband and Father, RIP.

And so ends the scene (the script subsequently cuts to the scene in Bob Morton's house with him and the two girls. Below is the graveyard scene as featured in the RoboCop novell. We start off in Murphys home, 548 Primrose Lane

Robo fought back a cry of anguish. What was he feeling? Something was being hidden from him. The cry that churned deep within his chest was anything but a part of his program. It was something dark. Something primordal. Something real.

He staggered to counter, reeling under the impact of this latest hallucination. He spotted a coffee cup on the counter. Was it solid or was it a product of his malfunctioning brain? He tentatively extended a charred steel hand. He wrapped two fingers around the cup and lifted it. There was writing on it. Old. Faded. World Class Husband. Grief-stricken, he replaced the cup on the counter with a little too much force. The handle broke off in his hand.

Robo walked down the hallway leading to the bedroom. A hallway monitor screen flickered. The omnipresent shill smiled at Robo, talking fast. "Short on Cash? With MasterBudget financing your earning power is your equity. We manage your income so that you can manage your life." "Fuck off" Robo snarled, marching into the Bedroom. Shafts of stormy gray light streamed into the windows. Robo imagined that, on sunny days, this room must have been beautiful. Four full-length mirrors must have made it seem bigger than it actually was.

The salesman was now in the corner, blathering full-tilt. "Ah, the Master Bedroom. Functional space with a touch of elegance." Robo watched a queen-size bed appear. Bureaus. Flowers on an end table. The woman from the kitchen strolled in through the room, clad in a robe. "Jimmy needs new clothes for school," she said, her voice echoing in Robo's mind. "The Websters want us to come to their party." She faced Robo and smiled. God, what a beautiful smile she had. And those eyes. "Hey," she said. "You look sexy in that shirt." She dropped her robe and headed into the bathroom. Robo followed. He watched the ghostly woman step into the steaming shower. The woman begin to sing softly to herself. A little melody, nothing special, slightly off-key. To Robo, however, it sounded as sweet as a symphony.

Robo turned and caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror. What was he anyway? He saw the eyes peeking out from beneath his face visor. They were human. They were real. He raised a blackened steel hand. But this? What was this? Cold, unfeeling metal.

What kind of abberation was he? Flesh and blood and steel? It didn't seem right. It didn't seem natural. It didn't seem . . . good. A monitor next to the bathroom mirror zapped on. "Hey, have you thought it all over? Why not make me an offer? I'm ready to make a deal." "Deal with this," Robo growled. He sent a steel fist slamming into the monitor. A shower of sparks erupted from the guts of the ComUnit. The Muzak which had followed him throughout the house sputtered to a stop. The lights in the house dimmed and then went out.

Robo walked though the house of dreams and headed for the front door. A wave of sounds flooded his mind. The woman singing. The TV blaring. The little boy laughing. Coffee percolating. A phone. A kiss. A sigh. Robo ran out the front door and found himself staring up into an angry sky. Rain began to fall in sheets. The sky rumbled. Lightning crackled. Bolts flew and through space in rapid succession. Robo theorized that they were affecting his circutry. He was beginning to hallucinate again. A flash of lightning. The face of little Emil from the gas station. Another flash. There was Joe. Another bolt. Chan and another. Leon. And another. Clarence Boddicker. Robo raised his arms in a cross before him, to ward off the wind and the howling banshees dancing across the sky. Suddenly, he was staring at a cross in a cemetery. He heard sobbing. He squinted at the cross. There were words on its base. ALEX MURPHY: Beloved Husband and Father, RIP.

"What do you want from me?" he whispered into the swirling rain. He heard a faint echo of distant sobbing. The woman and the boy. The ghosts. Robo emitted a guttural noise, the sound of an animal in pain, and dashed for the car.

He sat behind the wheel and shook. And, when he was done, he shook some more.