Original subtitles

An ordinary man, insurance executive, 45 years old, stumbles to his death on a

subway platform in New York City.

Or does he?

Unbeknownst to his wife or child, his brain is rescued from the accident scene

by a secret branch of the United States government and put into the body of an

artificially produced 20 -year -old man who has the strength of Superman, the

speed of Michael Jordan, and a great self -credit stare.

The only catch.

On the penalty of death, he can never let anyone from his past know he is

alive. And that, my friends, is a problem.

For this man is desperately in love with his wife, his daughter, and his former

lover.

Mr. Wiseman, are you all right?

I just... I need to know.

Is she cable ready?

Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Wiseman, but it's only temporary.

You're really an evil man.

You're making me blush.

Should we adjourn to the media room?

So, what's the occasion?

You like boxing, Mr. Wiseman?

Watching or participating.

Heavyweight champion Macy O .T. Jones is riding the crest of a wave.

Now, what do we have here, huh?

Whether he's signing autographs for his youngest fans or posing for magazine

covers, this charismatic young fighter is sitting comfortably on top of the

world. And although he is interested in the traditional pursuits of virile young

athletes, he's an introspective and guarded young man as well.

Ten years ago, before there was a you, there existed a black budget government

program called Magic Mirror.

What's a black budget government program?

It existed, but it never existed.

A team of government scientists, and mind you...

This was well before my time.

Transformed a young soldier, Private First Class Timothy Foster, from a

of a Gulf War nerve gas incident into a biologically altered warrior.

Swift, powerful, immune to disease and chemical warfare with feline reflexes.

What are you talking about?

Another me?

Oh, perish the thought, Mr. Wiseman.

Biomolecular research?

Gene vectors, advances in nanotechnology.

We've come a long way since the 80s.

Think of it this way.

PFC Foster was analog.

You're digital.

Thing is, back then, they were flying by the feet of their first -generation

dockers.

Heading into his rematch with veteran Terrell Hoyles, Jones comes to the ring

his usual impeccable condition.

At 205, he may be small for a modern heavyweight, but he's been more than big

enough to handle the 26 opponents who've been unlucky enough to face him so far.

Not only did Magic Mirror gravely underestimate Foster's strength, but

guile.

He escaped the program and has been at large since 1992.

At large?

How's a guy like that stay at large?

Well, the thinking was he went underground.

Maybe he had some plastic surgery.

Did anything he could to avoid attention.

Well, that was the theory, at least.

Until last week.

Why? What happened last week?

What is this?

Don't you recognize New Jersey?

Nice. Who owns it?

Matthew T. Jones.

Okay, so what does that prove?

What's he doing?

He's chopping down a tree.

With his hand.

Wow. I gotta make it a point to introduce myself at the next union

Do you have an extra key?

I have an extra key.

I'm going to give you my work number. Now, don't lose it.

Do you want me to pin it to my shirt?

Mom. It's your first day at work, not my first day at school.

I'm going to keep the cell phone on.

And at some point, I hope I can call your school and give them my new work

numbers, because God forbid there's an emergency and they have to get hold of

and I'm not actually at home. I mean, I could check the answering machine, but

that's not the point.

I think you've had enough coffee.

I have to go.

Okay. Would you please give me a call when you get home just so that I know

you're all right?

Oh, be nice.

I'm terrified.

Okay, Mom. I'll call you when I get home.

Okay. Good luck, Mom.

Thanks, Annie.

Thanks, honey.

You know, just because a guy's chopping a tree down on Maceo's land doesn't mean

that the guy is Maceo. I know that, Mr. Wiseman.

But there's no escaping the fact that his past is awfully convenient.

Convenient? Well, for starters, the orphanage where he allegedly spent his

youth. was destroyed by fire over 15 years ago.

The orphanage and the birth records of everyone they cared for.

That is handy, isn't it? And that's not all.

The man came out of nowhere and in just five years had 60 undefeated

professional bouts.

He's never been defeated.

Ever. Well, that just proves he's a champion, not that he's government

Then explain this.

The man is worth over $800 million.

And yet, in all that time, and with all that money, not one relative has come

forward. No long -lost cousins or uncles threatening to talk to the tabloids or

make a book deal.

No prodigal mother weeping about how she was forced by her economic plight to

put poor little Matthew in a basket on someone's doorstep.

No high school sweetheart claiming to have had his child.

Not a one.

Well, you said he was an orphan.

Maybe he's also a nice guy. It's not impossible, you know.

And then...

There's the tattoo.

No. A tattoo?

Well, that seals it. If he has a tattoo, he couldn't possibly be a nice guy.

Probably bites his nails, too.

Can you bite through these nails?

You can.

You think of everything, Doc.

Well, it's right here, where the tracking device would have been inserted

removed. Could just be a... coincidence.

You know, Doc, I'm thirsty and I'm bored.

Want a margarita? I'm buying.

So, how do I fit into all this? What do you want me to do?

If you're counting on me appealing to him as a long -lost relative, I mean, I

know we're kind of apples from the same tree, but the truth is, we've never been

close.

I need proof, Mr. Wiseman.

Absolute proof of who he is.

This isn't just Joe Everyman we're talking about.

This is the greatest heavyweight fighter since Joe Louis.

Feared more than Tyson.

Loved nearly as much as Ali.

He's played golf with two presidents and arm wrestled the Archbishop of New

York.

No, before we can even contemplate the next step in our plan, Washington has to

be certain that Matthew T. Jones and PFC Timothy Foster are in fact one and the

same. And how do we do that? Pull his shorts down and check his underwear for

name tag? I need DNA, Mr. Wiseman.

Hair, blood, saliva, urine.

And that's where you come in.

Uh -huh.

Tell me you don't have your heart set on the urine sample thing.

This is your desk.

Go ahead, sit down.

You like it?

You're the fourth desk.

I'm the first desk.

Bob's the second. Carla's got the third desk. What this means is that any

business that comes through the door or over the phone is assigned on that

rotation.

First me, then Bob, then Carla, then you.

And every day is a new day. We don't pick up where we left off. We start all

over again.

Now, I know this seems unfair, but these desk assignments are given out based on

sales. So next quarter, who knows? You're sitting at the first desk.

Besides, over time you will find that most of your business will come from

referrals and ads, not from walk -ins. Next, business cards.

You're kidding.

I get a business card?

Fancy, huh? I love it.

You just fill in the sheet with the exact spelling of your name, and

we'll have your cards back.

Great. That's what I can do.

So what have we got here?

Ms.? Mrs.? It's Mrs.

I think I'll always be a Mrs.

I lost my husband last year in an accident.

I'm sorry. Thank you. I lost my husband to a female golf pro.

That came out much flipper than I meant it.

It's okay.

I'm sorry.

Can I buy you a cup of coffee?

Now that we've gotten off to a completely awkward start, let me make it

you by preparing you for the hard part.

I knew there had to be a hard part.

Yeah, well, there is.

The waiting.

Waiting? For something to happen.

Unless you have a friend or a relative who's looking to buy or looking to live.

It's tough to get started.

And until you've made that first sale, it's really tough on your self -esteem

and your pocketbook.

But... If it's going to happen, it'll happen.

You just have to tough out that first waiting period and establish yourself.

In this last year or so, I have become very accomplished at waiting.

I have no idea for what.

Maybe this.

But rest assured, I can wait with the best of me.

which is set to commence momentarily. As many of you know, I'm scheduled to

fight Mr.

Tyrell Halls next week at the Garden.

I'd like to apologize in advance to tens of thousands of people who brought

their tickets to this event.

See, the fight's going to be over faster than a 14 -year -old boy on top of his

first hooker.

What, what, you don't think so?

The man is an old ball tire.

Sweat smells like from mild to high.

Challenger could be trouble.

Huh, look at him. Put the man out the pasture.

I could beat him with Betty White's fists.

Right there!

Hello?

Oh, hi, Mom.

Oh, nothing. Just doing my homework.

If you haven't heard, I have a date with Tyrell Hoyles at the garden in a week.

Now, he's going to be ready. What about me?

Red, I need some confident damn sparring partners.

We brought you. Dopey, grumpy, sneezy, and bashful. That's who you brought me.

Now, this is boxing, baby.

Not tag.

Boxing.

Now, who am I going to fight?

Right there.

Bring that boy's ass up here.

Mace, it's cool. I got a couple of fighters coming in from Newark. They'll

here in an hour. Good.

You can fight them.

Come on, come on. Where's my mouthpiece?

This boy's over there waiting for his beat. But, Mace, I don't know this guy.

What's there to know?

He's here, and he's willing.

You know, this thing would be covered with the man's DNA.

What's that?

I'm saying, if you knock one of those out of his mouth, you won't have to

about getting me any hair or blood or...

Look

at you.

And what do we have here?

How much you weigh?

170. What?

Five. A buck seventy -five.

That's bitch way.

Didn't I see you in a Banana Republic ad?

Come on.

Get on out of here. Go back to your modeling job.

You afraid of me?

Go on and get up. Run out of here. I'm serious. I don't want to hurt you. Hey,

Red.

Get the Newark doggies up in here so I can train already.

Oh.

You want a piece of me?

You want to play, Ken doll?

Just got your wish.

What the hell was that?

Some kind of delayed reaction you were working, Ken?

Hey, I'll tell you. That was such a good shot, it knocked the pain right out of

me for a second there.

What?

Yeah,

you take as good as you give, Ken.

So I don't have to worry about you.

Hey, you want to worry about me? You go ahead and worry about me. I think that's

nice.

Just a cold and empty space.

I know that you alone can end this ache

in my heart and this love

in my life.

Uncle Roger called.

Uh -huh.

I told him to call him back.

You lied.

So how many houses did you sell today?

Oh, there would be none.

Whoops.

Oh, no.

No. No.

No, no, there's no whoops involved.

There's no whoops here.

I didn't sell any houses because I didn't get my business cards yet.

I'll get my business cards. until tomorrow.

And because nobody came in to see me.

So I didn't have to get in my car and show anybody a house so that I could

someone the house.

There you have it, honey.

It's all perfectly normal.

Perfectly natural. Just what you'd expect on your first day of work when

starting a new career.

Good.

Write me a note so that I don't have to go in tomorrow.

No.

Let me

ask you something.

You sure you know who I am?

Yeah, I can make you a T. Jones. Why?

Because I'm mainly used to bowing, scraping, and people making fools of

themselves, sucking up.

My ass been kissed so many times, I should have a chapstick endorsement.

Yeah, well, that's not my deal.

Not your deal?

Hmm.

Ain't you cool?

Just like your boxing, too.

Just lean back there, let the other fella go reckless, and then you just

that bar.

Smart.

I like that.

So what's your real name, Ken?

Michael. Michael Newman. Oh, damn!

Stop. What?

That is definitely not a fighter's name. That's like some freaking bean

counter's name.

Really? You think so? I know so.

Now my publicist has come up with something for you. That is, of course,

want to be a star.

You like boxing?

Oh, yeah.

In fact, I was kind of born to fight.

How about you?

Me? Hate it.

Really?

Yeah.

Sucks.

Then why do you do it?

Well, I was strong.

What was I going to do? Join the circus?

And according to my best -selling autobiography, once you've tried on a

canvas ring, anything else is just costume jewelry.

Ah, I like that. It's very poetic.

Thank you.

I'll tell my ghostwriter you said so.

If the guy had bothered to ask me, I would have told him.

Boxing just fills the void.

Now, you know what I want.

I know I have the same. Okay.

So you got any family, Ken?

Married?

Separated?

Little Ken?

Daughters?

You get to see her much?

Not nearly enough.

I fear you.

I fear you.

How about you?

My life's complicated enough.

No.

No family.

Maybe someday.

Right now, I got only one thing and one thing only on my mind.

And that's making that jello -ass loser Tyrell Halls shut his big mouth.

He thinks because our last fight went ten rounds, he's got a chance?

Whoa! Why can't the man just accept the fact that he is just plain old?

Reason to live.

Welcome to Uncle Maceo's training table.

Dig in.

Well,

you were certainly in there for a long while.

Well, I didn't want to eat and run, which reminds me, actually invited me to

run. Road work, day after tomorrow, 110th and Central Park West, 7 a .m.

Well, that might come in handy.

You like him, don't you?

Well, like is a little strong.

It's not like I get to meet a lot of people in my present situation.

Why? You worried I'm going to leave you for him?

I'll be honest. It crossed my mind when they brought the hush puppies. Hush

puppies? Oh, come on, Doc. I only ate what I absolutely had to so as not to

myself away.

And then only to protect democracy and the American way of life.

Oh.

Oh, gosh. The things I do for my country.

And by the way, I gotta tell you, I think you guys are way off the mark

mean, yeah, he hits really hard, but that man loves being famous.

Trust me, he didn't go to all this trouble and become the champion of the

to give it all up the first time he sensed you guys were on to him.

But of course, hey, my opinion doesn't count.

I'm just a cog in the wheel, an ant in the colony, and if you tell me you need

me to keep hanging out with this guy, sparring with him, training with him,

yes, even eating with him.

A government experiment's gotta do what a government experiment's gotta do. Oh,

be quiet.

Mr. Wiseman.

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you were there. Can I help you? I certainly

hope so.

I'm looking for a house.

Oh.

Great.

Actually, Janet is the person that you want to see. Aren't you a licensed

broker? Well, yes, I am. But we work on a rotation here. And that means that

whoever walks in the door first has to go see.

Janet.

Is that the way it has to be?

Well, maybe we'll find an opportunity to work together some other time.

Maybe.

Hello, are you Janet?

Yes.

I'm looking for a brunette to help me find a house.

Excuse me? Is that your natural hair color?

I beg your pardon?

You know what? I don't think this is working out for either of us. I think

going to go outside and... Good idea.

Have you met Lisa?

Lisa?

Lisa.

Oh, hi.

You look familiar.

You don't say.

Am I allowed to ask what that was all about?

At the office?

Oh, that?

That was about me wanting to work with you.

I mean, I walked in, I looked around, and you looked pleasant.

Not that the others looked unpleasant.

I don't know. It's kind of an instinct thing. I trust my instincts.

I'm an investment banker.

Me and my instincts have done pretty well, so when I get an instinct about

something or someone, I like to... You are pleasant, aren't you?

Well, I like to think so.

But you should know that this is my second day on the job, and that you are

absolutely the very first person that I have taken out to see a house.

Well, that's okay, because this is my first day looking.

You are absolutely the first person I've asked to help me.

So you could do something badly, and I'd be almost certain not to notice.

As long as you're pleasant.

Is there something particular you're looking for? A secret passageway or

something? Nope.

Just looking.

Well, if you think that this really could be a contender, I would be happy

arrange a showing for your wife.

That would be great.

Good. But I don't have a wife.

Oh. Well, anyone whose opinion you might value, I would be happy to show it to

them.

I don't think this is the one.

Ah. Yeah. Well.

That's a good start.

And now that I have a better sense of what you're looking for... What are you

doing for dinner tomorrow night?

Dinner? I'm sorry.

Did we skip something? Was I not paying attention somewhere?

Here's what I'm thinking.

I'll let you have a better sense of what I'm looking for.

Maybe you could go assemble some brochures, photographs, whatever.

Come into the city tomorrow night. We'll have dinner together and...

You can show me your ideas. Does that work for you?

That works for me.

Great.

I'm going to call my driver and have him pick me up here.

You have a driver.

And I'll call you tomorrow. We'll discuss the particulars.

Tomorrow, discuss the particulars. That's great.

Lisa? Sir?

This was very pleasant.

I'm betting I would have figured that out on my own.

What brings you over so gloomy and early?

Maceo's DNA.

He came in, and it's a match.

Lately, he's been jogging the length of Central Park, on the path along the West

Drive.

There's a wooded ravine just before the North Meadow, where a tactical team will

be in place, waiting to intercept.

PFC Foster will be accompanied by three bodyguards.

They'll be neutralized with non -lethal narcotics delivered through the skin.

Poison darts?

Something like that.

Maceo will disappear without a trace.

Selective facts will be leaked to the press.

It will be assumed to have been an abduction, possibly a botched

And no one will ever hear from him again?

No. No one will ever hear from him again.

Boy, I gotta tell you.

Finding out that stuff like this goes on, if I wasn't dead, it would kill me.

Look, it's not my area, but just between us, for a fabulously rich, somewhat

spoiled media darling, he seems like a pretty decent, grounded guy.

I mean, do you really have to do anything?

Tell me you're joking, Mr. Wiseman. No, I'm serious.

I mean, why can't he just be champ and somebody's got to do it?

Okay, fine.

Let's have it your way.

But suppose PFC Foster slips up.

And someone, anyone, discovers the secret of his success is more than just

sweet left jab.

What if he's hurt in the ring?

Well, hell, forget the ring.

He's hurt in a car accident.

The attending physician cuts him open only to discover that the knee bone

connected to the shin bone.

Well, hell, forget the knee bone.

There are bits and pieces in this fellow that aren't even illustrated in Gray's

anatomy. Okay, I get it.

So what's going to happen to him?

Suffice to say that his strength and appearance will be dynamically altered.

We'll obviously have to do something with his memory.

Some sort of surgical procedure involving the brain.

Lobotomy?

As I said, some sort of surgical procedure involving the brain.

And after all that's accomplished, I will make it my business to see to it

he lives out his days comfortably in a government facility.

After all that's accomplished.

Need I remind you, Mr. Wiseman, that he was offered the same proposition you

were given.

He entered into an agreement.

He accepted the conditions of that agreement, fully aware of the

involved in violating it. He then chose to violate that agreement.

And under the circumstances, I think he's lived an unusually... comfortable

life.

I'll leave the map here.

Let's skip our workout for today.

Leave you some time to... yourself.

I've got you under surveillance.

I've got you right where I need you to be.

on a tracking scope, Mr. Wiseman. Can you hear me?

I'm afraid so, Geppetto.

Oops, can't talk now, Dad. My friends are here.

And you should see the cars they get to drive.

All right.

Don't talk.

Just listen.

You'll be jogging on the West Drive path for about seven minutes.

That should bring you to the ravine.

When you reach the ravine, do what you can to slow the pace.

Ah, motivation book. I swear you were somebody's mother in another life.

Now, you know and I know that I will beat this man into a three -egg omelet,

that anything he does is useless, hopeless, pointless, anything that's

more.

There he is.

Morning, Ken.

Hey, champ.

These guys were saying that you wouldn't show, but I had a hunch there'd be no

keeping you away.

Hey, it's like I said. I was born to be a fighter. Hmm.

Now, let's see what you got under your hood.

You guys can chill. We're going to fly solo today.

Oh, now what, huh?

Man, are homeless folks going to come and try and take my sneakers?

Mr. Wiseman, don't say anything, but I think perhaps we've just been handed a

break. And besides, I got Ken here to protect me.

I'll go and get all of you.

You all right with that?

Yes. I'm great with that.

Now let's go find that hallelujah thing they call a runner's high.

Be advised, the subject is alone with Mr. Wiseman.

I think I'm getting really fat.

Are you in front of him?

Behind him or beside him?

Mr. Wiseman.

Mr. Wiseman.

Mr.

Wiseman, are you there?

Talk to me.

What are you doing?

I'd have never known her looking at you.

But you're my long -lost Uncle Sammy, aren't you? Something like that, yeah.

Where is it?

What are you doing?

Mr. Wiseman?

I think we just went dead.

Mr. Wiseman?

Do you have a precise location? Yes, sir.

I'm going to round up the others.

Stay here and lead me to them.

Listen to me.

We can both get out of here.

I got offshore caps everywhere. I got all the money either of us will ever

I got jets on three continents.

I know how to do this. I've done it once.

That tracking thing they got in your head, we'll get it pulled out like a bat

get you some plastic surgery. You're crazy, man. They found you once, they'll

find you again. So what?

What are you going to do to me?

Kill me? Shut up. They'll be here any second.

Forget the ravine. They're tracking east of the lake.

Stop kidding yourself.

You got the same disease I got.

You got a hole in your soul.

You can't hide that emptiness. It weighs a ton.

Come on, tell me. What's stopping you?

You got somebody you're worried about on the outside.

Right?

All my people are dead.

But you really do have a wife.

A daughter someplace, right?

Okay. No problem. We go get them. Take them with us.

You'll have your family. I'll have my memories. All of us will disappear for

good. No.

That won't happen.

I'll never get within a mile of the house. They'll kill them before that

happens.

As far as your memories go, Private Foster... What?

What about my memories?

Hit me.

Huh? Knock me out.

Knock you what? Knock me out!

What do you want?

Surprise me. Just do it. Then get the hell out of here.

Thanks.

You're supposed to be the greatest living fighting machine in the world.

happened?

I'm thinking maybe the second greatest living fighting machine in the world

sucker punched me, Doc.

I guess I'm not going to be doing any Banana Republic ads for a while.

You'll be fine in all of about 15 minutes. We will catch him, you know.

Oh, I don't doubt that for a second, Doc.

You ready to work out the particular?

This is going to be the famous particular conversation.

I was thinking clementines around 8 o 'clock.

Can I send a car to bring you?

You know what? At the risk of being unpleasant, I'd love to meet you there.

what I'd really love to do is stick the train in and catch a cab.

52nd and Madison.

This just in, unconfirmed sources are reporting that Macy O .T. Jones, just

away from the rematch with Tyrell Hoyles, has been reported missing after

failing to return from a training run in Central Park.

Details are sketchy, but we'll continue to follow this developing story. What

are they talking about?

Famous boxer?

Yep. Well, how does that happen? I mean, how does somebody that famous go

missing anywhere?

I know what you mean, lady.

Seems unbelievable.