Writing the screenplay

Before starting to ‘shoot’ your film there are some vital steps that have to be completed to make it run
smoothly. These initial steps include coming up with a story and creating characters, Once you have
your story outline you will need to turn it into a script or screenplay so you know what you have to
‘shoot’.

An important convention to remember when writing is,

 One page equals one minute of screen-time.

 It is best to underwrite. This means for a ten minute film keep the script to eight or nine pages,
to allow for the action. The longer the script is the more it tends to balance itself out. Making
the script shorter than the expected running time will mean not having to cut scenes out which
will save you a lot of work during production.

Scene Heading (or Slug Lines)

Your script does not need masses of detailed description to set a scene, you just have to describe the
shots that are needed, something simple like:

EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT

or

INT. RUSTIC COTTAGE KITCHEN - MORNING

These are known as slug lines or the scene heading and describe whether it is an exterior (EXT) or
interior (INT) scene followed the location, with the time of day last.

 You don’t need to describe how many shots or camera angles are needed as these will be
decided by the director, who is probably you anyway, at the storyboard stage.

Next is a description of the action taking place. This is written in the present tense:

TWO MEN and a YOUNG WOMAN are walking quickly along the street,
sticking to the shadows where possible. We hear the sound of
SCREECHING TYRES and HIGH-POWERED MOTORCYCLES. The three pedestrians
are spotlighted by the approaching motorbikes.

This sets up the scene and outlines the action up to the first dialogue, mostly as a guide for the actors
and director. All the details of the action will be illustrated on the storyboards.

 The first time characters are introduced they are written in CAPITALS
 Sound effects are also initially written in CAPITALS

When the dialogue starts:

 the character’s name appears in capitals, centred on the page.

 Any specific directions appear below in parenthesis, and strangely enough are known as
parentheticals.
 In live action films these are usually kept to a minimum, to allow the actors and director to
exercise their crafts. This is a polite way of saying the writer doesn’t know what should be
happening in his story. For animation, clear directions are important.
 After the parentheticals the dialogue starts. It will look like this:

CLAY
(Looks at the other two)
We gotta run. Split up and meet back at the usual place.
We see them run in three different directions. We follow Clay as one of the
bike riders chases him.

CUT TO:

 The “cut to” instruction tells us to change scene or camera shot. A list of other screenplay terms
can be found here.

This is the basic format for your script, using one of the many style sheets or dedicated programmes
available. One of the best ways to understand scripts is to read some.

Screenplay terms

Here is a selection of terms used in a screenplay not already mentioned that will useful.
This is not a definitive list, but it should be enough to help you produce your first draft.

Fade in: / Fade out: These are used at the beginning and end of the screenplay, mostly just
to signify that - the start and finish - and are not necessarily camera instructions.

V.O. (Voice Over): Part of the dialogue that is not spoken by the character(s) on screen. This is
usually narration or a way of vocalising a character’s thoughts.

O.S. (Off Screen): Dialogue spoken by a character in the scene but not in the shot.
It is different to V.O.

Both V.O. and O.S. instructions appear in brackets immediately after the character’s name.

When writing the “action” part of the script, you may want to add some directorial suggestions for
camera angles. These are to convey your vision to the director. If that is also you then they serve as
reminders. Here are a list of standard terms.

Angle on: A shot of a character, setting or object in the scene. This is to bring attention to them in
the shot.

Favouring: Similar to angle on, making the person, place or item the focus of the shot.

Another angle: Shooting from a different position.

Wider angle: Zooming back to show more of the character in the setting.

POV (Point of View): Showing a scene for a character’s perspective.

Reverse angle: used to change POV to that of the other person in a scene.

Over the shoulder shot: A variation on POV shot. If POV is first person then this is third
person. It shows the character’s POV but includes them in the shot.

Moving shot: Where the camera follows the action. There is no need to specify whether it is a
tracking shot, pan, dolly etc at the writing stage.

Close shot: Also called a close-up. surely this doesn’t need any more explanation,

Insert: A close up shot of an item that is inserted into the scene. In live action this would be shot
separately and added at the editing stage.
Alien (1979)
by Walter Hill and David Giler.
Based on screenplay by Dan O'Bannon.
Revised final. June, 1978.

Science fiction plucks from within

us our deepest fears and hopes then
shows them to us in rough disguise:
the monster and the rocket.
W.H. Auden

We live, as we dream -- alone.

Joseph Conrad

"A L I E N"

FADE IN

SOMETIME IN THE FUTURE:

INT. ENGINE ROOM

Empty, cavernous.

INT. ENGINE CUBICLE

Circular, jammed with instruments.

All of them idle.
Console chairs for two.
Empty.

INT. OILY CORRIDOR - "C" LEVEL

Long, dark. Empty.

Turbos throbbing.
No other movement.

INT. CORRIDOR - "A" LEVEL

Long, empty.

INT. INFIRMARY - "A" LEVEL

Distressed ivory walls.

All instrumentation at rest.

INT. CORRIDOR TO BRIDGE - "A" LEVEL

Black, empty.
INT. BRIDGE

Vacant.
Two space helmets resting on chairs.
Electrical hum. Lights on the helmets begin to signal one
another. Moments of silence.
A yellow light goes on. Data mind bank in b.g.
Electronic hum. A green light goes on in front of one helmet.
Electronic pulsing sounds.
A red light goes on in front of other helmet.
An electronic conversation ensues.
Reaches a crescendo.
Then silence.
The lights go off, save the yellow.

INT. CORRIDOR TO HYPERSLEEP VAULT

Lights come on.

Seven gowns hang from the curved wall.
Vault door opens.

INT. HYPERSLEEP VAULT

Explosion of escaping gas.

The lid on a freezer pops open.
Slowly, groggily, KANE sits up.
Pale.
Kane rubs the sleep from his eyes.
Stands.
Looks around.
Stretches.
Looks at the other freezer compartments.
Scratches.
Moves off.

INT. GALLEY

Kane plugs in a Silex.

Lights a cigarette.
Coughs.
Grinds some coffee beans.
Runs some water through.

KANE
Rise and shine, Lambert.

INT. HYPERSLEEP VAULT

Another lid pops open.

A young woman sits up.

LAMBERT
What time is it.

KANE
(voice over)
 What do you care.

INT. GALLEY

Pot now half-full.

Kane watches it drip.
Inhales the fragrance.

KANE
Now Dallas and Ash.
(calls out)
Good morning Captain.

DALLAS
(voice over)
Where's the coffee.

KANE
Brewing.

LAMBERT walks into the kitchen.

Pours herself a cup.

INT. HYPERSLEEP VAULT

Two more lids pop open.

A pair of men sit up.
Look at each other.

INT. GALLEY

Kane enjoys a freshly-brewed cup.

KANE
Ripley...

Another moment.
And then the sound of another lid opening.

KANE
And if we have Parker, can
Brett be far behind.

Lid opening sound.

KANE
Right.

INT. HYPERSLEEP VAULT

DALLAS looks at his groggy circus.

DALLAS
One of you jokers get the cat.

RIPLEY picks up a limp cat out of one of the compartments.

INT. MESS

The crew of the United States commercial Starship Nostromo

seated around a table.

Dallas.........Captain
Kane...........Executive Officer
Ripley.........Warrant Officer
Ash............Science Officer
Lambert........Navigator
Parker.........Engineer
Brett..........Engineering Technician
Jones..........Cat

Five men and two women: Lambert and Ripley.

LAMBERT
Jesus am I cold.

PARKER
Still with us, Brett.

BRETT
Yo.

RIPLEY
Lucky us.

They yawn, stretch, shiver.

Dallas looks over at a flashing yellow light.

KANE
I feel dead.

Kane is not yet fully awake.

Yawns.

PARKER
You look dead.

ASH
Nice to be back.

PARKER
Before we dock maybe we'd
better go over the bonus
situation.

BRETT
Yeah.
Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me
(1999)
by Mike Myers and Michael McCullers.

MUSIC: timpani roll and dramatic sting

NARRATOR

In his last adventure, Austin Powers, a swinging spy from the

Sixties, was unfrozen in the Nineties to battle his archenemy
Dr. Evil. Austin foiled Dr. Evil's plan to send a nuclear
warhead to the centre of the earth and banished him into space
forever.
Or so he thought.

2 EXT. HOTEL - NIGHT (ESTABLISHING SHOT FROM FIRST MOVIE).

SUPER: The French Riviera

3 INT. HOTEL - HALLWAY

Elegant double doors with a brass plaque reading "Honeymoon

Suite." A "Do Not-Disturb" sign hangs from the handle.

4 INT. HOTEL SUITE

FROM THE FIRST MOVIE: Austin and Vanessa snuggle in bed. She
plays with his chest hair.

VANESSA

I love you, Mr. Powers.

AUSTIN

And I love you, Mrs. Powers.

SHOT TO MATCH EXISTING FOOTAGE: Austin gets out of bed. We see

Vanessa putting on her robe from behind, and then EXISTING
FOOTAGE: Austin and Vanessa kiss.

VANESSA

Let's go out on the terrace. It's a beautiful night, we can

look at the stars.

5 EXT. HOTEL BALCONY

EXISTING FOOTAGE: Austin and Vanessa gaze at the stars.

AUSTIN

Look how beautiful the night sky is.

VANESSA

Isn't that the big dipper?

AUSTIN

Yeah, and that looks just like Uranus.

VANESSA

Austin!

AUSTIN

(sheepish)

Well, you know.

VANESSA

Hey, I've never seen that big star before.

AUSTIN

Yeah, what is that?

Austin pulls out his telescope and takes a look.

6 AUSTIN'S POV - TELESCOPE EFFECT

7 EXT. SPACE

EXISTING SHOT: The Bob's Big Boy rocket.

8 INT. DR. EVIL'S CAPSULE

DR. EVIL

This isn't over yet, Mr. Powers. I have one more trick up my
sleeve, don't I Mr. Bigglesworth?

The frozen Mr. Bigglesworth MEOWS.

9 EXT. SPACE

The Bob's Big Boy rocket. Suddenly, a hatch opens in Bob's

rear end and Dr. Evil's silver egg capsule poops out.

10 SFX: PLOOP!

Capsule begins fiery re-entry to Earth

11 INT. HOTEL ROOM

Austin comes in and shuts the balcony door.

AUSTIN

Oh well, I guess it was nothing.

A VANESSA DOUBLE crosses carrying a bouquet of flowers, which

obscure her face.

AUSTIN

Care for some champagne?

(pouring)

Here's to monotony-- I mean, monogamy!

Vanessa sits at the vanity with her back turned.

AUSTIN

Hello? Vanessa? What are you doing, luv?

VANESSA

(back turned)

Just putting on my--

As Vanessa turns around she puts her hands up and PULLS OFF
HER FACE revealing wires, transistors, and a speaker where her
mouth should be.

FEMBOT VANESSA

(computer voice)

MAKE-UP!

AUSTIN

(frightened)

Vanessa, you're a Fembot!

They fight. Midway through the fight, machine guns pop out of
Vanessa's breasts.

AUSTIN

Machine gun jubblies, how did I miss those?

VANESSA

(robot voice)
PERHAPS NEXT TIME YOU SHOULD TRY FOREPLAY.

Her machine gun breasts FIRE, spraying the room in SLO-MO.

Then they run out of ammo and CLICK, CLICK.

Austin empties his gun into the robot, but to no avail. She
rushes at him, he gives her a judo chop, also to no avail.

Then Austin' notices a SELF-DESTRUCI- switch and hits it.

She starts to twitch, her head spins, and she EXPLODES.

Fembot parts fly around the room. Austin sits on the bed,
saddened. He holds Vanessa's hand, which has wires hanging out
of it. On one of the fingers is her wedding ring.

MUSIC: very sad piano

AUSTIN

(very sad)

I can't believe Vanessa, my bride, my one true love, the woman

who taught me the beauty of sharing your whole life with
another, the person who taught me the meaning of love, was a
Fembot. How will I ever go on?

(beat)

Wait a tic! That means I'm single! Oh, behave!

American Werewolf in London, An (1981)
by John Landis.

FADE IN

1 MAN'S FOOTPRINT

on the moon.

EXT. MOON

Camera begins to pull back slowly, straight up - the

song "Moon Shadow" by Cat Stevens begins. Once we are
high enough to see the entire moon, the main title is
superimposed.

An American Werewolf in London

We continue to retreat from the moon, looking on as it

grows farther from us, continuing credits until the
full moon is the size it appears to us from earth.

2 EXT. CROSSROADS ON THE MOORS - NIGHT

Tree branches enter into the frame, the camera pans

down and we see a truck approaching. We are at a
crossroads in the moors, looking sinister enough to
have earned their literary reputation.

The truck stops at the crossroads, the DRIVER,

moustached and wearing tweeds, boots, and a muffler,
climbs down.

"Moon Shadow" ends.

CUT TO:

Loud bang of the back grating on the truck as it slams

down. Revealed among the sheep are two rudely-awakened
young American boys. They look exhausted. They both
carry backpacks, two American kids on a jaunt in
Europe. They are both in their late twenties.

It is very cold and they clamber out of the truck none

too happily. Pushing sheep aside they step out and
stretch.

JACK GOODMAN AND DAVID KESSLER

They've been cramped for hours.

 TRUCK DRIVER
Here, lads, East Proctor and
all about are the moors. I go
east here.

JACK
Yes, well thank you very much
for the ride, sir. You have
lovely sheep.

TRUCK DRIVER
(as he clambers back up on his truck)
Boys, keep off the moors.
Stay on the road. Good luck
to you.

DAVID
Thanks again!

He drives off. LONG SHOT of the two boys as the lorry

pulls away. Surrounding them are the moors. They put
on their packs, David points to the signpost pointing
towards East Proctor.

EXT. ROAD ON THE MOORS - NIGHT

As they walk, their breath visible:

JACK
Are you cold?

DAVID
Yes.

JACK
Good.

They walk on, finally:

DAVID
Jack.

JACK
David.

DAVID
You're not having a good time
are you?

JACK
Oh, I don't know. I mean look
around. Isn't this a fun
place?

The camera shows us the moors - desolate, cold,

foreboding.
 DAVID
Well, I like it here.

JACK
I'm sorry. Northern England
first, Italy later.

DAVID
Right.

They walk on.

JACK
Do you think she'll meet me in
Rome?

DAVID
I think Debbie Klein is a
mediocre person with a good
body.

JACK
Debbie is not mediocre and she
has one of the great bodies of
all time.

DAVID
She's a jerk.

JACK
You're talking about the woman
I love.

DAVID
I'm talking about a girl you
want to fuck, so give me a
break.

JACK
Well, anyway, do you think
she'll be there?

DAVID
I don't know.

JACK
(like an announcer)
Rendezvous in Rome starring
Jack Goodman and Debbie Klein.
The love affair that shocked
Europe! See torrid lovemaking
at its most explicit! See
Jack and Debbie expose their
lust in the sacred halls of
the Vatican! Never has the
screen dared....
 DAVID
If you don't stop, I'm going
to kill you.

JACK
I have to make love to her.
It's very simple. She has no
choice really.

DAVID
It just fascinates me that you
can spend so much energy on
someone so dull.

JACK
It is impossible for a body
like that to be dull.

DAVID
We've known Debbie what, since
the eighth grade? How many
years of foreplay is that?

JACK
She says she `likes me too
much'.

David just laughs and laughs and laughs.

DISSOLVE
TO:

3 EXT. EAST PROCTOR MAIN STREET - NIGHT

David and Jack entering East Proctor. It is brightly

moonlit. East Proctor consists of a few shops, all
closed, a petrol pump and a pub. East Proctor has a
very small population and the place looks empty. David
and Jack enter the middle of town and look about. The
camera sees what they see. A few shops, dark and
shuttered. Light and laughter come from the pub.

4 EXT. THE SLAUGHTERED LAMB - NIGHT

Its traditional shingle shows a ferocious wolf's bloody

head on a pike, and tells us the pub's name, "The
Slaughtered Lamb".

JACK
The Slaughtered Lamb?

DAVID
Of course, The Slaughtered
Lamb. Why else would they
 have a severed fox head on a
spear as their symbol?

JACK
That's a wolf's head.

DAVID
Of course, The Slaughtered
Lamb. Why else would they
have a severed wolf's head on
a spear as their symbol?

JACK
That's not a spear. It's a
pike.

DAVID
A severed wolf's head on a
pike as their symbol.

JACK
David, before we go in there I
want you to know that - no
matter what happens to us -
it's your fault.

DAVID
I assume full responsibility.

JACK
Okay.

DAVID
Shall we?

5 INT. THE SLAUGHTERED LAMB - NIGHT

The pub was apparently "modernized" sometime in the mid-

fifties. Its traditional Englishness combines with
greasy stainless steel and glass. It is populated by
mostly pale young men with longish hair. Several older
men are ruddy complexioned and sport large moustaches.
Four or five are watching a chess game. Two men are
playing darts. The conversation is loud and there is
often laughter. But there is something unsavoury about
these people. A look of leanness and poverty. They
seem inbred and somehow sullen. We establish the types
and the general level of noise in the room.

The door opens revealing David and Jack. There is dead

silence and all are staring in a not friendly way at
the two boys who are made uncomfortable by all the
strange attention. They give each other a "what?"
look, then turn to the assembled populace.
 DAVID
Hello.

JACK
Nice to see you.

FACES

Silent and staring.

CUT TO:

DAVID AND JACK

DAVID
(smiles)
It's very cold outside. May
we come in?

The WOMAN BARKEEP nods. The boys walk carefully over

to a table and very self-consciously remove their
packs, place them on the floor, and sit down at the
table. There is a long, awkward wait. The Woman
finally comes over to them.

JACK
Do you have any hot soup?

WOMAN
No.

DAVID
Well, do you have any coffee?

WOMAN
No.

JACK
Hot chocolate?
WOMAN
We've got spirits and beer.
If it's something hot you
want, you can have tea.

JACK
Then you have some hot tea?

WOMAN
No.

JACK
Oh.

WOMAN
But I can heat some up for you
if you'd like.
 DAVID & JACK
Yes, please.

As the Woman turns to prepare the tea, everyone resumes

what they were doing; talking, drinking, playing chess
and darts, and the boys breathe easier.

JACK
Nice looking group.

DAVID
Listen, at least it's warm in
here.

JACK
Look at that.

CUT TO:

JACK'S P.O.V.

On the wall is painted a red pentangle (a five-pointed

star) and on either side burns a yellow candle.

DAVID
What about it?

JACK
It's a five-pointed star.

DAVID
Maybe the owners are from
Texas.

The Woman brings them their tea.

JACK
(to Woman)
Remember the Alamo?

WOMAN
I beg your pardon?

DAVID
He was joking. Thank you.

WOMAN
Joking? I remember The Alamo.
I saw it once in London, in
Leicester Square.

Jack and David look startled. One of the CHESS PLAYERS

explains:

CHESS PLAYER
 She means in the cinema, that
film with John Wayne.
(turns to board)
Checkmate.

DAVID
Oh, yes, of course.

JACK
Right, with Laurence Harvey
and everybody died in it. It
was very bloody.

CHESS PLAYER
Bloody awful if you ask me!

This sends everyone into gales of laughter. Jack and

David smile politely.

CHESS PLAYER
Here, Gladys, Tom. Did you
hear the one about the
crashing plane?

WOMAN
No, but we're about to.

Laughter.

CHESS PLAYER
You be quiet, woman, and let
me speak.

WOMAN
(heavy sarcasm)
Quiet, everyone! Hush! Shhh!

Uproarious laughter.

CHESS PLAYER
All right, laugh then. I
shan't tell it.

WOMAN
Oh, come on, tell us.

CHESS PLAYER
No. You've had your chance.

The men all coax him to tell the joke.

JACK
(to David)
Ask them what the candles are
for.
 DAVID
(to Jack)
You ask them.

JACK
(to David)
Listen, that's a pentangle, a
five-pointed star. It's used
in witchcraft. Lon Chaney,
Jr. and Universal Studios
maintain it's the mark of the
wolf man.

DAVID
(to Jack)
I see. You want me to ask
these people if they're
burning candles to ward off
monsters.

JACK
(to David)
Right.

DAVID
(to Jack)
Wrong.
The drinkers have gotten the Chess Player to tell the
joke as everyone knew he would.

CHESS PLAYER
Oh, all right. There was this
airplane over the Atlantic on
its way to New York. It was
full of men from the United
Nations.

WOMAN
That's very funny, that is.

Uproarious laughter.

JACK
(to David)
Go on, ask them.

DAVID
(to Jack)
You ask them.

CHESS PLAYER
Here now, let me finish! So
halfway over the ocean the
engines run low on petrol so
they have to lighten the
plane. So they heave out all
 the baggage, but it's still
too heavy. So they chuck out
the seats, but it's still too
heavy! Finally this Froggy
steps up and shouts "Viva la
France" and leaps out. Then
an Englishman....

DART PLAYERS
Hear! Hear!

CHESS PLAYER
(undaunted)
...steps up and shouts `God
save the Queen!' and leaps
out. But the plane is still
too heavy. So the Yank
delegate from Texas steps up,
shouts, `Remember the Alamo!'
and chucks out the Mexican.

This is apparently the funniest joke the inhabitants of

East Proctor have ever heard. The laughter is
uproarious, choking, knee-slapping, incredible. As the
Chess Player goes to take a drink of beer, the Dart
Player gasps out...
DART PLAYER
Remember the Alamo!

...causing the Chess Player to spit out his beer

causing even harder laughter. Complete hilarity.

JACK
Excuse me, but what's that
star on the wall for?

Dead silence. A dart lands in the wall. David and

Jack are understandably bewildered. The villagers look
hard indeed.

DART PLAYER
(angry)
You've made me miss.

JACK
I'm sorry.

DART PLAYER
I've never missed the board
before.

DAVID
Jack, we'd better go.

JACK
What do you mean? I'm
 starving.

DART PLAYER
There's no food here.

The villagers look threatening and David's voice is a

bit urgent.

DAVID
Come on, Jack, shall we go?!!

JACK
Apparently so.

The boys pick up their backpacks and move uncertainly

for the door.

WOMAN
(to men)
You can't let them go.

DAVID
(worried)
How much do we owe you?

CHESS PLAYER
Nothing, lads. Go, God be
with you.

DAVID
Uh, thank you.

WOMAN
Wait! You just can't let them
go!

DART PLAYER
Go! And stay on the road.
Keep clear of the moors.

DAVID
Yes, well, thanks again.

CHESS PLAYER
Beware the moon, lads!

David pushes Jack out.

6 EXT. THE SLAUGHTERED LAMB - NIGHT

It is very cold.

JACK
What the hell was that all
about?
Gandhi (1982)
by John Briley.

EXTERIOR. SKY. DAY.

The camera is moving toward an Indian city. We are high and

far away, only the sound of the wind as we grow nearer and
nearer, and through the passing clouds these words appear:

No man's life can be encompassed in one telling. There is

no way to give each year its allotted weight, to include
each event, each person who helped to shape a lifetime.
What can be done is to be faithful in spirit to the
record, and to try to find one's way to the heart of the
man . . .

And now we are approaching the city, the squalor of the little
shanty dwellings around the outskirts, the shadows of large
factories . . . And as we move nearer, coursing over the
parched terrain, the tiny fields of cultivation, strands of
sound are woven through the main titles, borne on the wind,
images from the life we are seeking:

British: "Who the hell is he?!", lower class British: "I

don't know, sir." . . . "My name is Gandhi. Mohandas K.
Gandhi." . . . A woman's voice, tender, soft: "You are my best
friend, my highest guru . . . and my sovereign lord." . . . A
man (Gandhi): "I am asking you to fight!" . . . An
angry aristocratic English voice: "At home children are
writing 'essays' about him!" . . . the sound of massed rifle
fire, screams . . .

EXTERIOR. CITY. DAY.

And now we are over the city, coming in toward a particular

street in the affluent suburbs of New Delhi . . . there are a
few cars (it is 1948), and we are closing on a milling crowd
near the entrance to one of the larger homes.

We see saris, Indian tunics, a sprinkling of "Gandhi" caps,

several tongas (two-wheeled, horse-drawn taxis) . . . the
shreds of sound continue –
American woman, flirtatious, intimate: "You're the only man I
know who makes his own clothes." Gandhi's laugh . . . The
sound of rioting, women's cries and screams of
terror . . . An American voice: "This man of peace" . . .
And as the titles end we begin to pick up the sounds of the
street . .
. an Australian and his wife, a BBC correspondent . . . all in
passing, as the camera finally closes and holds on one young
man: Godse.

EXTERIOR. BIRLA HOUSE. DAY.

Godse steps from a tonga as the crowd begins to move toward an

entrance-way at the back of a long wall.

HOUSE SERVANT'S VOICE: He will be saying prayers in the

garden – just follows the others.

In contrast to those about him, there is tension in Godse's

face, an air of danger in his movements.

He glances at two policemen who are talking casually, absorbed

in their own gossip – then he looks back at another tonga that
pulls up just behind his. Two young men (Apte and Karkare)
meet Godse's gaze, and again we get the sense of imminent
danger.

They descend and pay their driver absently, their eyes

watching the crowd.

Sitting along in the shadows of a stationary tonga a little

distance down the street an elderly man (Prakash) with a
short, close-cropped beard and the taut,sunken flesh of a
cadaver is watching . . .

Apte and Karkare look back at him. There is just the slightest
acknowledgment and then Prakash lifts his eyes to the gate, as
though to tell them to be about their business.

THE GATE AT BIRLA HOUSE. EXTERIOR. DAY.

Godse hesitates before approaching the two gardeners who

nonchalantly flank the entrance. He stiffens himself,
cautiously touches something under his khaki jacket, then
glances back at the stoic face of Prakash. Prakash's gaze is
as firm and unrelenting as a death's head. Godse turns back,
wetting his lips nervously, then moves into the middle of a
group going through the gate.

GARDEN. BIRLA HOUSE. EXTERIOR. TWILIGHT.

A fairly numerous crowd is gathering here, informally filling

the area on one side of a walk that leads to a little pavilion
– some devout, some curious, some just eager to be near the
great man.

Godse moves forward through them toward the front just as

hushed voices begin to remark – "I see him." "Here he comes!"
"Which one is Manu?" . . .

Apte and Karkare move to different sides of Godse, staying a

little behind, their movements sly and wary, aware of people
watching.

Featuring Gandhi. We see him distantly through the crowd. The

brown, wiry figure cloaked only in loincloth and shawl, still
weak from his last fast and moving without his customary
spring and energy as he is supported by his two grand nieces,
his "walking sticks," Manu and Abha.

We do not see him clearly until the very last moment – only
glimpses of him as he smiles, and exchanges little jokes with
some of the crowd and the two young women who support him,
occasionally joining his hands together in greeting to
someone in particular, then once more proceeding with a hand
on the shoulder of each of the girls.

The camera keeps moving closer, and the point of view is

always Godse's, but Gandhi is always in profile or half
obscured by the heads and shoulders of those in front. We hear
the occasional click of a camera, and we intercut with shots
of Godse moving tensely up through the crowd, of Apte and
Karkare on the periphery of the crowd, watching with sudden
fear and apprehension, like men paralysed by the presence of
danger.

Featuring Godse. He slides through to the very front rank. His

breathing is short and there is perspiration around the sides
of his temples. And now, for an instant we see Gandhi close
from his point of view. He is only a few steps away, but
turned to speak to someone on the other side, and Manu half
obscures him.

Godse swallows dryly, tension lining his face – then he moves

boldly out into Gandhi's path, bumping Manu, knocking a vessel
for incense from her hands.

MANU (gently): Brother – Bapu is already late for prayers.

Ignoring her, his nerves even more taut, Godse joins his hands
together and bows in greeting to the Mahatma.

And now we see Gandhi in full shot. The cheap glasses, the
nut-brown head, the warm, eager eyes. He smiles and joins his
hands together to exchange Godse's greeting.
Godse moves his right hand rapidly from the stance of prayer
to his jacket, in an instant – it holds a gun, and he fires
point blank at Gandhi – loud, startling – once, twice . . .
thrice.

Gandhi's white shawl is stained with blood as he falls.

GANDHI: Oh, God . . . oh, God . . .

Amid the screams and sounds of chaos we dissolve through to

KINGSWAY. NEW DELHI. EXTERIOR. DAY.

Close shot. Soldier's feet moving in the slow step, half-step,

step of the requiem march . . .

Full shot. The huge funeral procession – crowds such as have

never been seen on the screen massed along the route. People
everywhere, clinging to monuments, lamp standards, trees – and
as the camera pulls back from the funeral cortege it reveals
more and more . . . and more. All are silent. We only hear a
strange, rhythmic shuffling, pierced by an occasional wail of
grief. We see the soldiers and sailors lining the route, their
hands locked together in one seemingly endless chain. We see
the two hundred men of the Army, Navy and Air Force drawing
the Army weapon-carrier that bears the body of Gandhi.

And finally we see Gandhi lying on the weapon-carrier,

surrounded by flowers, a tiny figure in this ocean of grief
and reverence.

THE COMMENTATORS' ROSTRUM. KINGSWAY. NEW DELHI. EXTERIOR. DAY.

Commentators from all over the world are covering the

ceremony. We concentrate on one, let us say the most
distinguished American broadcaster of the time, Edward R.
Murrow, who sits on the makeshift platform, a microphone
marked "CBS" before him, describing the procession as
technicians and staff move quietly around him.

MURROW (clipped, weighted): . . . The object of

this massive tribute died as he had always lived – a private
man without wealth, without property, without official title
or office . . .
KINGSWAY. NEW DELHI. EXTERIOR. DAY.

As the cortege continues on its way, we get shots of the

marching soldiers, of the faces of Sikhs, and Tamils, Anglo-
Indians, Moslems from the north, Marathas from the south,
blue-eyed Parsees, dark-skinned Keralans . . .

MURROW'S VOICE-OVER: Mahatma Gandhi was not a commander

of great armies nor ruler of vast lands, he could boast no
scientific achievements, no artistic gift . . . Yet men,
governments and dignitaries from all over the world have
joined hands today to pay homage to this little brown man in
the loincloth who led his country to freedom . . .

We see the throng, following the weapon-carrier bier of Gandhi

as it slowly inches its way along the Kingsway.

Mountbatten, tall, handsome, bemedalled, walks at the head of

dignitaries from many lands . . . and behind them a broad mass
of Indians. For a moment we see their sandalled feet moving
along the roadway and realize their quiet, rhythmic shuffling
is the only noise this vast assemblage has produced.

MURROW'S VOICE-OVER: Pope Pius, the Archbishop of

Canterbury, President Truman, Chiang Kai-shek, The Foreign
Minister of Russia, the President of France . . . are among
the millions here and abroad who have lamented his passing. In
the words of General George C. Marshall, the American
Secretary of State, "Mahatma Gandhi had become the spokesman
for the conscience of mankind . . ."

In the crowd following the bier we pick out the tall, English
figure of Mirabehn, dressed in a sari, her face taut in a
grief that seems ready to break like the Ganges in flood. Near
her a tall, heavy-set man, Germanic, still powerful of build
and mien though his white hair and deep lines suggest a man
well into his sixties(Kallenbach). He too marches with a kind
of numb air of loss that is too personal for national
mourning.

On the edge of the street an American newspaperman (Walker)

watches as the bier passes him. He has been making notes, but
his hand stops now and we see the profile of Gandhi from his
point of view as the weapon-carrier silently rolls by. It is
personal, close. Walker clenches his teeth and there is
moisture in his eyes as he looks down. He tries to bring his
attention to his pad again, but his heart is not in it and he
stares with hollow emptiness at the street and the horde of
passing feet following the bier.
MURROW'S VOICE-OVER: . . . a man who made humility and
simple truth more powerful than empires." And Albert Einstein
added, "Generations to come will scarce believe that such a
one as this ever in flesh and blood walked upon this earth."

The camera picks out those who ride on the weapon-carrier with
Gandhi's body . . . the stout, blunt, but now shattered Patel,
Gandhi's son, Devadas, the strong, almost fierce face of
Maulana Azad, now angry at the Gods themselves . . . and
finally Pandit Nehru – a face with the strength of a hero, the
sensitivity of a poet, and now wounded like the son of a
loving father.

MURROW'S VOICE-OVER: . . . but perhaps to this man of

peace, to this fighter who fought without malice or falsehood
or hate, the tribute he would value most has come from General
Douglas McArthur: "If civilization is to survive," the General
said this morning, "all men cannot fail to adopt Gandhi's
belief that the use of force to resolve conflict is not only
wrong but contains within itself the germ of our own self-
destruction." . . .

A news truck is parked in the mass of the crowd. As the

cortege nears, the photographers on it stand to snap their
pictures. There is a newsreel crew centre. The camera features
a woman photographer (Margaret Bourke-White) who sits with her
legs dangling over the side of the truck, her famous camera
held loosely in her hand, unregarded, as she watches the body
of Gandhi approach. The intelligent features are betrayed by
the emotion in her eyes. For an instant we see Gandhi from her
point of view, and read the personal impact it has on her.

MURROW'S VOICE-OVER: Perhaps for the rest of us, the

most satisfying comment on this tragedy comes from the
impudent New York PM which today wrote, "There is still hope
for a world which reacts as reverently as ours has
to the death of a man like Gandhi." . . .

The camera is high and we see the cortege from the rear,
moving off down the vast esplanade, its narrowing path parting
the sea of humanity like a long trail across a weaving plain .
. . and as the shuffling sound of sandalled feet fades in the
distance we dissolve through to

RAILROAD. SOUTH AFRICA. EXTERIOR. NIGHT.

With the camera high we see a railroad track stretching out

across a darkly verdant plain, and suddenly the whistle of a
train as its engine and light sweep under the camera,
startling us as it sweeps across the moonlit landscape.

Tracking with the train. We begin at the guard's van, dwelling

for a moment on the words "South African Railways," then pass
on to the dimly lit Third Class coaches in the rear of the
train, moving past the crowded Blacks and Indians in the spare
wooden accommodation . . . There are two or three such
coaches, then a Second Class coach . . . cushioned seats,
better lighting, a smattering of Europeans: farmers, clerks,
young families. Their clothes indicate the date: the early
1890s.

The conductor is working his way through this coach, checking

tickets … The track continues to the First Class coach – linen
over the seats, well-lit luxurious compartments. We pass a
single European, and then come to rest on the back of a
young Indian dressed in a rather dandified Victorian attire,
and reading as a Black porter stows his luggage.

FIRST CLASS COACH. SOUTH AFRICAN RAILWAYS. INTERIOR. NIGHT.

Featuring the young Indian. It is the young Gandhi – a full

head of hair, a somewhat sensuous face, only the eyes help us
to identify him as the man we saw at Birla House, the figure
on the bier in Delhi. He is lost in his book and there is a
slight smile on his face as though what he reads intrigues and
surprises him. He grins suddenly at some insight, then looks
out of the window, weighing the idea.

As he does the European passes the compartment and stops dead

on seeing an Indian face in the First Class section. The
porter glances at the European nervously. Gandhi pivots to the
porter, holding his place in the book, missing the European,
who has moved on down the corridor, altogether. We see the
cover of the book: The Kingdom of God is Within You, by Leo
Tolstoy.

GANDHI: Tell me – do you think about hell?

PORTER (stares at him blankly): "Hell!"

GANDHI (the eternal, earnest sophomore): No

– neither do I. But . . . (he points abruptly to the book) but
this man is a Christian and he has written –

The porter has glanced down the corridor, where from his point
of view we can just glimpse the European talking with the
conductor.
PORTER: Excuse me, baas, but how long have you been in
South Africa?

GANDHI (puzzled): A – a week.

PORTER: Well, I don't know how you got a ticket for –

He looks up suddenly then turns back quickly to his work.

Gandhi glances at the door to see what has frightened him so.

The European and the conductor push open the door and stride
in.

CONDUCTOR: Here – coolie, just what are you doing

in this car?

Gandhi is incredulous that he is being addressed in such a

manner.

GANDHI: Why – I – I have a ticket. A First Class ticket.

CONDUCTOR: How did you get hold of it?

GANDHI: I sent for it in the post. I'm an attorney, and I

didn't have time to –

He's taken out the ticket but there is a bit of bluster in his
attitude and it is cut off by a cold rebuff from the European.

EUROPEAN: There are no colored attorneys in South

Africa. Go and sit where you belong.

He gestures to the back of the train. Gandhi is nonplussed and

beginning to feel a little less sure of himself. The porter,
wanting to avoid trouble, reaches for Gandhi's suitcases.

PORTER: I'll take your luggage back, baas.

GANDHI: No, no – just a moment, please.

He reaches into this waistcoat and produces a card which he

presents to the conductor.
GANDHI: You see, Mohandas K. Gandhi, Attorney at Law. I
am going to Pretoria to conduct a case for an Indian trading
firm.

EUROPEAN: Didn't you hear me? There are no colored

attorneys in South Africa!

Gandhi is still puzzled by his belligerence, but is beginning

to react to it, this time with a touch of irony.

GANDHI: Sir, I was called to the bar in London and

enrolled in the High Court of Chancery – I am therefore an
attorney, and since I am – in your eyes – colored – I think we
can deduce that there is at least one colored attorney in
South Africa.

The Porter stares – amazed!

EUROPEAN: Smart bloody kaffir – throw him out!

He turns and walks out of the compartment.

CONDUCTOR: You move your damn sammy carcass back to

third class or I'll have you thrown off at the next station.

GANDHI (anger, a touch of panic): I always go First

Class! I have travelled all over England and I've never . . .

MARITZBURG STATION. EXTERIOR. NIGHT.

Gandhi's luggage is thrown onto the station platform. A blast

of steam from the engine.

A policeman and the conductor are pulling Gandhi from the

First Class car. Gandhi is clinging to the safety rails by the
door, a briefcase clutched firmly in one hand. The European
cracks on Gandhi's hands with his fist, breaking Gandhi's grip
and the policeman and conductor push him across the platform.
It is ugly and demeaning. Disgustedly, the conductor shakes
himself and signals for the train to start. Gandhi
rights himself on the platform, picking up his briefcase, his
face a mixture of rage, humiliation, impotence. The conductor
hurls Gandhi's book at his feet as the train starts to move.

Gandhi picks up the book, looking off at the departing train.

A lamp swinging in the wind alternately throws his face into
light and darkness.

His point of view. The Black porter stares out of a window at

him, then we see the European taking his seat again,
righteously. The conductor standing in the door, watching
Gandhi even as the train pulls out. Then the Second Class
coach, with people standing at the window to stare at Gandhi –
then the Third Class coaches, again with Blacks and a few
Indians looking at Gandhi with mystification and a touch of
fear.

Gandhi stands with a studied air of defiance as the train

pulls away – but when it is gone he is suddenly very aware of
his isolation and looks around the
cold, dark platform with self-conscious embarrassment.

A Black railway worker looks as if he would like to express

sympathy, but he cannot find the courage and turns away from
Gandhi's gaze, pulling his collar up against the piercing
wind.

The policeman who pulled Gandhi from the train talks with the
ticket-taker under the gas-lit entrance gate, both of them
staring off at Gandhi.

An Indian woman near the entrance sits in a woollen sari, her

face half-veiled. A small child sleeps in her arms, and there
is a tattered bundle of clothing at her feet. She turns away
from Gandhi's gaze as though it brought the plague itself.

MR. BAKER'S LIVING ROOM. INTERIOR. NIGHT.

Featuring Gandhi. As if a reverse angle from the previous

shot, he is angry, baffled, defiant.

GANDHI: But you're a rich man – why do you put up

with it?

We are in a large Victorian parlour in a well-to-do home.

Facing Gandhi are Khan, a tall, impressive Indian. Singh,
slighter and older than Khan, but wiry and looking capable of
physical as well as intellectual strength, and Khan's
twenty-year-old son, Tyeb Mohammed.

KHAN (a shrug): I'm rich – but I'm Indian.

I therefore do not expect to travel First Class.
It is said with a dignity and strength that makes the
statement all the more bewildering. Gandhi looks around
helplessly. We see Mr. Baker, a wealthy white lawyer, whose
home this is, poking at the fire, slightly amused at Gandhi's
naiveté.

GANDHI: In England, I was a poor student but I –

KHAN: That was England.

Gandhi is holding a British legal document; he lifts it

pointedly.

GANDHI: This part of "England's" Empire!

SINGH: Mr. Gandhi, you look at Mr. Khan and see a

successful Muslim trader. The South Africans see him simply as
an Indian. And the vast majority of Indians – mostly Hindu
like yourself – (there is a moment of blinking embarrassment
from Gandhi at this mention of his own religion) were brought
here to work the mines and harvest the crops – and the
Europeans don't want them doing anything else.

Gandhi looks at Mr. Baker almost in disbelief.

GANDHI: But that is very un-Christian.

Mr. Baker smothers a smile.

TYEB MOHAMMED: Mr. Gandhi, in this country Indians are

not allowed to walk along a pavement with a "Christian"!

Gandhi looks at Khan incredulously.

GANDHI: You mean you employ Mr. Baker as your attorney,

but you can't walk down the street with him?

KHAN: I can. But I risk being kicked into the gutter by

someone less "holy" than Mr. Baker.
He smiles, but his eyes show that it is no joke.

Gandhi glances from one to the other them – absorbing the

inconceivable. And then almost before our eyes his innocence
of the world fuses with his anger at the injustice of it all.

GANDHI: Well, then, it must be fought. We are children

of God like everyone else.

KHAN (dryly): Allah be praised. And what battalions

will you call upon?

GANDHI: I – I will write to the press – here

– and in England. (He turns to Baker firmly) And I will use
the courts.

He lifts the documents threateningly.

SINGH: You will make a lot of trouble.

Its tone is chilling, and Gandhi's firmness is shaken a

little.

GANDHI: We are members of the Empire. And we come from

an ancient civilization. Why should we not walk on the
pavements like other men?

The sturdy Khan is studying him with a look of wry interest.

KHAN: I rather like the idea of an Indian barrister in

South Africa. I'm sure our community could keep you in work
for some time, Mr. Gandhi – even if you caused a good deal of
trouble. (Gandhi reacts uncertainly.) Especially if you caused
a good deal of trouble.

Gandhi glances at Tyeb Mohammed and Baker, then stiffens,

plainly frightened by the challenge, but just as plainly
determined to take it.
Dumb and Dumber (1994)
by Peter Farrelly, Bennett Yellin, Bob Farrelly.
Final script, 11-19-93.

FADE IN:

EXT. PROVIDENCE, RHODE ISLAND - WINTER MORNING

A PRETTY YOUNG WOMAN is standing on the street corner waiting

for a bus. She's carrying books and looking very collegiate.

A black stretch LIMOUSINE with darkened windows drives past,

SLAMS ON ITS BRAKES, and backs up. The Young Woman stares at
her reflection in the windows, wondering what this is all
about.

Finally, the REAR PASSENGER WINDOW zips down, revealing LLOYD

CHRISTMAS, age 30. He's a pleasant-enough looking guy, if a
little shaggy. He's wearing a dark suit.

LLOYD
Excuse me, can you tell me how to
get to the medical school? I'm supposed to
be giving a lecture in twenty minutes
and my driver's a bit lost.

YOUNG WOMAN
(heavy European accent)
Go straight aheads and makes a left
over za bridge.

Lloyd checks out her body.

LLOYD
I couldn't help noticing the accent.
You from Jersey?

YOUNG WOMAN
(unimpressed)
Austria.

LLOYD
Austria? You're kidding.
(mock-Australian accent)
Well, g'day, mate. What do you say
we get together later and throw a few
shrimp on the barbie.

The Young Woman turns her back to him and walks away.

LLOYD (CONT.)
(to self)
Guess I won't be going Down Under
tonight…

He SIGHS and zips the window back up.

INT. LIMO

Lloyd climbs through the driver's partition into the front

seat. Then he puts a CHAUFFEUR'S CAP on his head and drives
away. We see that HE'S THE DRIVER!

The dispatch radio CRACKLES TO LIFE:

DISPATCHER
(v.o.)
Carr 22, come in, car 22…

Lloyd grabs his CB mike.

LLOYD
This is 22.

DISPATCHER
22, where the hell are you, Lloyd?
You're running late on the East Side
pick-up.

LLOYD
Cool your jets, Arnie. I'm on my way.

DISPATCHER
(v.o.)
Well hurry it up. And make sure you park legally. One more
ticket and your ass is history.

CUT TO:

EXT. MUTT CUTS DOG SALON - DAY

This building is white with black spots on it, like a

DALMATION. Over the front door is an
awning shaped like a DOG'S SNOUT, whiskers included. A van
pulls up outside.

The vehicle is decorated like a GIANT POODLE, with four legs

hanging off the sides, a tail in the
rear, and a dog's snout on the front grill. MUTT CUTS is
written on the side of it.

HARRY DUNNE climbs out. He's in his early 30s and dressed in a
ridiculous BEAGLE COSTUME, including a CAP WITH FLOPPY EARS.
He goes to the rear of the van, opens it, and a swarm of DOGS
pile out.

HARRY
Okay, gang, single file. You know
the rules: No pushing, no humping,
and no sniffing heinies…

The door to the shop opens and Harry's annoyed boss, MR.
PALMER, sticks his head out.

PALMER
Hey, why aren't those mutts on leashes?

HARRY
The same reason you're not on a
leash, sir – because it's demeaning
and it chafes like hell.

PALMER
Just get them in here now! They all
have to be bathed and clipped in an
hour.

Palmer disappears back inside. Harry CALLS to the dogs but

they pay no attention. He struggles to keep them from
wandering off. He grabs a couple of SMALL POOCHES and sits
them on a wall.

HARRY
You kids stay right here…

As he turns to round up the other, we discover that the wall

isn't a wall – it's a flatbed truck. The
truck drives away, taking the two dogs with it.

HARRY (CONT.)
(at truck)
Hey, wait a minute!

Harry chases after the vehicle.

CUT TO:

EXT. EAST SIDE ESTATE - DAY

Lloyd Christmas pulls the limousine into a long, tree-lined

driveway. He gets out and looks up in
awe at an IMPRESSIVE STONE MANSION. He WHISTLES to himself,
then walks to the front door and RINGS THE BELL.

The double-front doors of the mansion open and MARY SWANSON

appears. She's 25 and gorgeous. Lloyd's jaw drops open when he
lays eyes on her.

MARY
Hello.
(beat)
I'll be just a minute…

As Mary steps back inside, Lloyd takes out a tiny can of

Binaca. He sprays his mouth, under his
arms, his hair, behind his ears…

CUT TO:

INT. LIMO - DAY

Lloyd is driving and Mary is in the back, looking out the

window, lost in thought. She's got a
BRIEFCASE resting on her lap and she fingers the leather
nervously. Lloyd keeps glancing at her
in the rear-view mirror, but for a moment he is speechless.
Then:

LLOYD
Why you going to the airport? Flying
somewhere?

MARY
(dead-pan)
How'd you guess?

LLOYD
Well, I saw your luggage, then when I
noticed the airline ticket, I put two
and two together.
(beat)
So where you heading?

MARY
Aspen.

LLOYD
Oh, you're gonna love it. I hear
California's beautiful this time of
year.

Mary looks back out the window and Lloyd sneaks another
glance.

LLOYD
Name's Christmas. Lloyd Christmas.

MARY
I'm Mary.

ON LLOYD - we can almost see his mind work. He's desperate to

impress her.

LLOYD
Uh, this isn't my real job, you know.
It's only temporary.

MARY
Oh?
LLOYD
Yeah, you see, my friend Harry and I
are saving up our money so we can
open our own pet store.

MARY
That's nice.

LLOYD
(smiling)
I got worms.

MARY
I beg your pardon?

LLOYD
That's what we're gonna call it: I
Got Worms. We're gonna specialize in
selling worm farms – you know, like
ant farms. A lot of people don't
realize that worms make much better
pets than ants. They're quiet,
affectionate, they don't bite, and
they're super with the kids.

MARY
Aren't ants quiet, too?

Lloyd realizes she has a point.

LLOYD
Uh… well, sure – but they aren't half
as affectionate. And if you cut an
ant's head off, it won't grow back.

MARY
I see.

LLOYD
And best of all, worm farming is a
seventy-five-thousand-dollar-a-year
industry. I wouldn't mind having a
piece of that pie, if you know what I
mean.

To her credit, she doesn't. They continue driving. Mary looks

at her watch and crosses her legs.
Lloyd can see that she's concerned about something.

LLOYD (CONT.)
What's the matter? Little tense
about the flight?

MARY
(beat)
Something like that.
Lloyd SWIVELS AROUND and STARES over his shoulder at her.

LLOYD
It's really nothing to worry about,
Mary. Statistically, they say you're
more likely to get killed on the way
to the airport. You know, like in a
head-on crash, or something.

MARY
Um, Lloyd, could please keep your
eyes on the road.

LLOYD
Good thinking. There's a lot of bad
drivers out there.

Lloyd turns back to the steering wheel.

CUT TO:

EXT. AIRPORT - DAY

Lloyd is putting the last bags on a cart. He closes the trunk

and turns to Mary. She looks nervous and disconcerted as she
reaches into her purse. She pulls out a ten-dollar tip.

MARY
Here you go.

LLOYD
Keep it. It was my pleasure.

For the first time, Mary Swanson offers a slight smile. This
makes her more lovely than ever.

LLOYD (CONT.)
Relax, Mary. Just get trashed and
pass out. You'll be there before you
know it.

MARY
Thanks Lloyd.
(beat)
And good luck with your worms.

Then she PICKS UP HER BRIEFCASE and walks into the terminal,
followed by a PORTER pushing her bags. Lloyd watches her,
ENCHANTED, until she's out of sight.

Afterwards, he climbs back into the limo, LOVESICK. For a

moment he doesn't even have the energy to turn the key. He
just drops his head against the steering wheel, DEVASTATED.
There's a TAP on the window. Lloyd looks up to see a POLICE
OFFICER standing there.
POLICE OFFICER
Come on, move it, you're in a red
zone.

Lloyd starts the limo and pulls away.

CUT TO:

INT. AIRPORT TERMINAL - DAY

Mary looks tense as she moves through the throngs of

travellers. Her pace is slow, deliberate, and
her eyes are focused straight ahead.

She passes a row of phone booths and two MEN – one dressed in
an ARMANI SUIT, the other in a PLAID SPORTCOAT – watch her.

ARMANI SUIT
She's gonna leave the briefcase at
the foot of the escalator. You make
the pick-up.

PLAID SPORTCOAT
Piece of cake.

EXT. AIRPORT TERMINAL – DAY

As Lloyd pulls his limo slowly away, he glances in the airport

window and SEES MARY WALKING ALONG.

When she stops at the foot of the escalator, he stops, too.

She puts down the briefcase and checks her coat pocket for her
ticket. Lloyd's attention is distracted by a HONK. He turns to
see a car directly behind him.

LLOYD
(to car's driver)
Drive around me, you pinhead!

When he turns back to watch Mary in the terminal he sees that

SHE'S GONE, and she's LEFT HER BRIEFCASE AT THE FOOT OF THE
STAIRS. Lloyd jumps to ATTENTION.

He pulls the car into a HANDICAPPED SPOT and hops out. He

starts to run into the terminal, then notices the Police
Officer and suddenly goes into a spastic walk, limping and
dragging him leg behind him like a palsy victim.

INT. AIRPORT TERMINAL

E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982)
by Melissa Mathison. Commentary by Richard Michaels.

TITLES: "E.T. - THE EXTRA-TERRESTIAL"

EXT: NIGHT SKY: NIGHT

The black screen becomes a night sky. The camera angles lowers
to show a forest against the night sky.

EXT: LANDING SITE: NIGHT

In an opening in the forest stands a spacecraft. The view of

the craft is obscured by tree branches. The atmosphere is
misty, with blue lights coming from the spacecraft.

One creature walks up the gang blank and into the ship.

INSERT: ALIEN HAND

A strange hand, with two long and slender fingers protruding,

move aside a branch that obstructs the view.

INT: SPACECRAFT'S GREENHOUSE: NIGHT

The inside of the ship appears to be a greenhouse. There are

sounds of water dripping. Cone shaped objects (possibly alien
plants) sit among earth plants. Vapours flow up from the
plants.

EXT: SPACECRAFT: NIGHT

A group of the aliens work in front of the spacecraft.

Suddenly, they hear a dog howl, and they all stop working. Red
lights begin to glow in their chests. It appears as if their
hearts have lit up at the sign of danger, as the red glow
seeps through their translucent skin. After a moment the red
lights dim and they return to their work.

EXT: FOREST: NIGHT

A small fern grows on the forest floor. An alien hand, with

two fingers protruding, reaches out for the fern. The alien
groans. A rabbit turns and listens. The fingers dig up the
plant as the rabbit watches. The alien then carefully uproots
the plant. A small wayward alien walks alone among the
gigantic redwood trees. He's dwarfed by the huge trees.
EXT: HILLTOP: NIGHT

The creature stands alone on a hilltop as he stares down at

the city lights below. Suddenly he lets out a moan of fright.
A truck, with headlights glaring, pulls up next to him.

The creature runs from the lights. Several other trucks with
head- lights glaring drive up. Smoke flows from their exhaust
pipes. Men's legs are seen as they walk among the trucks. They
step into a mud puddle as E.T. watches from behind a shrub. A
man with keys jangling from his waist walks past a headlight.
He carries a flashlight in his hands.

The man with keys walks to a truck where he and two other men
review a map that's placed on the hood of the truck. The man
with keys holds the flashlight up and points it at the hood.
E.T watches them from the bushes.

EXT: SPACESHIP: NIGHT

An alien stands in front of a round light and transmits a

homing signal, presumably to call the other aliens back to the
ship.

EXT: FOREST: NIGHT

When E.T hears the sound, his red heart lights up. The homing
signal reverberates in his chest.

"Keys" hears this sound and quickly turns around. He points

his flashlight towards the sounds. The other men join him as
they walk towards the sound. E.T. screams and runs away, which
is indicated by the shaking bushes. The men with flashlights
chase after him.

EXT: SPACECRAFT: NIGHT

The lights dim on the footings of the spacecraft, presumably

because the spacecraft is preparing to takeoff.

EXT: FOREST: NIGHT

E.T. screams as he races for the spacecraft. The glow from his
red-heart reflects off the bushes as he runs towards the white
light of the spacecraft.

EXT: SPACECRAFT: NIGHT

A lone alien stands before a large round white light, as he
signals for the other aliens to return to the ship.

EXT: FOREST: NIGHT

Men with flashlights run through the forest, as they pursue

the red glowing light racing towards the spacecraft. One of
the pursuers is the man wearing the keys on his waist.

EXT: SPACECRAFT: NIGHT

The grated gangplank lifts up, blocking the entrance to the

ship. Behind the grate stands the alien against the large
round white light. The red light of the alien’s heart lights
up as he stands behind the barrier.

EXT: FOREST: NIGHT

The men reach the edge of the clearing and stop as they watch
the spacecraft lift off.

One red lighted heart races along an old country fence towards
the departing spacecraft. Men with flashlights are still in
pursuit. They stop at a wooden gate as they watch the
spacecraft fly away.

E.T., with face obstructed by a branch, and with red-heart

aglow, watches the spacecraft fly away into the night. He
utters a sorrowful moan.

The men with flashlights pointed up towards the sky watch the
space- craft fly away. They hear E.T.'s groan, and in unison
point their flashlights in his direction.

EXT: HILLTOP: NIGHT

Below lies the city, lit up against the dark night sky. E.T
slowly makes his way down the slope.

Men with flashlights follow. They reach the hilltop, search

the underbrush for the alien, then start down the slope after
him.

EXT: SUBURBAN HOUSE: NIGHT

INT: ELLIOTT'S HOUSE: NIGHT

A group of boys are sitting around a table playing a DUNGEONS

AND DRAGONS game. One boy is on the telephone ordering a
pizza. They throw wads of paper at each other as they play.
Elliott, the youngest boy, sits behind the counter. He's
separated from the other boys. After a few moments he yells
that he's ready to play the game.

One of the boys tells Elliott that he can't join when they are
in the middle of the game.

Elliott walks up to the table and yells at his brother, Mike.

Michael says that Elliott has to ask Steve, who is the Game
Master, and who has absolute power.

Steve tells Elliott that first he has to wait for the pizza,
then when he brings it back he can play. Steve gives him money
for the pizza. Elliott picks up his baseball and glove, then
leaves the room.

EXT: ELLIOTT'S HOUSE: NIGHT

It's a rainy, misty night. Elliott, with ball and glove in

hand waits at the bottom of the driveway for the pizza. A car
pulls up and parks in the driveway. Elliott pays the driver,
then takes the pizza box from him as the car pulls out of the
driveway.

Elliott walks up the driveway and into the garage. He hears a

noise in the backyard, then calls out the name "HARVEY,"
presumably his dog’s name.

INT: ELLIOTT'S HOUSE: NIGHT

Elliott's mother wears an orange outfit as she works in the

kitchen. She bends over to put dishes into the dishwasher.
When she does this one of the young boys reaches out to put
his finger on her rear. Mike yells for him to
stop. He pulls his finger away.

INT: PATIO: NIGHT

Elliot walks past the ping pong table when he hears more
noises in the backyard. Again he calls out the name "Harvey."

With the pizza box in hand, Elliot walks past the patio table
and towards the shed in the backyard. A bright crescent moon
hangs in the night sky.

There is a mist in the air, and a bright light shines in the

shed. Elliott places the pizza box on the ground as he
approaches the shed. He's still carrying the baseball and
glove as he stands in front of the shed's entrance. He tosses
the ball into the shed. After a few seconds the ball is
tossed back out at him and hits him on the foot.
Elliott becomes frightened, turns and steps on the pizza box
as he runs towards the house.

INT: ELLIOTT'S HOUSE: NIGHT

Elliott's mother is talking to the boys when Elliott runs into

the house screaming that there's something in the tool shed.
He tells them that it threw a ball at him, but they continue
to ignore him until he screams.

"QUIET!" "Nobody go out there," says Elliott. The boys

immediately jump up from the table. Two boys grab kitchen
knives as Michael tells his mother to stay inside. He and his
friends will check it out. She yells at them to put the knives
back as she follows them outside.

EXT: SHED: NIGHT

The light is still on in the shed.

EXT: PATIO: NIGHT

Elliott's mother walks into the yard with a flashlight in her

hand. She is surrounded by the boys as they approach the shed.
The mother says that there's nothing in there as Michael walks
through the entrance. Michael bends down and finds tracks on
the dirt floor. "The coyote's come back again, Ma." he says.
His mother becomes frightened and orders them all back into
the house.

On his way back to the house, Michael sees the pizza box. He
bends down, opens the box, then takes out a piece. He's angry
at Elliott. Elliott tries to explain that it was just an
accident, but his brother is still angry. When the mother asks
who ordered the pizza, Elliott points to one of Mike's
friends. This makes the friend mad at Elliott. Elliot tries to
persuade his mother that there is a creature in the shed, but
she doesn't believe him. They walk into the house.

INT: SHED: NIGHT

The alien's fingers point out into the shed entrance, then
wrap around the side of the door. The sound of his heavy
breathing is heard.

INT: ELLIOTT'S BEDROOM: NIGHT

The clock on the end table indicates 2:00. Next to the clock
is a picture of a dog, presumably Harvey. This same dog lies
asleep in the bed. He hears a noise and picks up his head. He
is in the lower half of a bunk bed. On the top bunk sits
Elliott. He is awake as he listens to the noise outside.
EXT: BACKYARD: NIGHT

Elliott opens a gate and walks into the backyard. He carries a

flashlight in his hand and shines it into the cornfield next
to his house. He walks into the field.

EXT: CORNFIELD: NIGHT

Elliott walks into the cornfield. He whistles, and gets

entangled in the cornstalks as he walks. He sees tracks in the
dirt with his baseball nearby. He continues to walk through
the field.

Elliott pushes aside some stalks and shines the light into the
face of E.T. Together, in unison, the scream. Elliot drops his
light, then continues to scream as he looks around the field.
E.T. cries out and runs away through the cornfield.

EXT: BACKYARD: NIGHT

Elliott runs into his backyard. His play swings sway back and
forth in the air, as if someone had just bumped into them. Two
garbage pails fall over near an open metal gate at the top of
a stone stairway. The garbage rolls out of the cans and down
the stone stairs. A red light by the gate lights the stone
stairway.