[Гремлин]

DARK CITY
by

Alex Proyas

Revised draft May 9, 1994






INT. OPENING MONTAGE

OVER BLACK a low rumble increases in volume.


FADE UP:

A GLOVED HAND wraps around a bulky scissor-switch, thrusts
DOWN.

SNAP! - Electricity arcs through darkness.

OS SOUND of MACHINERY turning on.

TITLES OVER

MONTAGE OF CLOCKS - VARIOUS. The clocks are frozen, then second
hands turn - TICKING gets louder...


EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT

The streets are empty - no sign of life. Eerie silence.

A DOORWAY opens in the side of a building, then:

A line of shadowy figures walks out. Men, dressed in black full-
length coats, bald...

The STRANGERS walk silently out into the city.


INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT

SHADOWS DANCE - in and out of darkness. A hooded light-bulb
swings IN SLOW MOTION from the ceiling, its dim light REVEALS:

A GLASS SYRINGE - broken on the floor.

Clothes on a chair...

Puddles of water on the floor...

ANGLE ON SLEEPING EYES - Between waves of light they snap open and
dart about in confusion.

ON JONATHAN WALKER as he sits up. Water splashes. He's in a tub
of long-cold water. His neck aches like he's been sleeping forever.

TIGHT ON WALKER - he's in his early thirties, dark featured.

HIS P.O.V. - looking around the room. Everything's strange,
unfamiliar.

He stands, steps from the tub.

ANGLE - THE SWINGING LIGHT BULB. Walker's hand ENTERS FRAME,
stops the bulb mid swing.

ON HIS REFLECTION in a cracked wall mirror. He moves to the mirror
and looks at himself. A line of blood runs across his face, from a
point between his eyes. he wipes it away, and notices a tiny pin-
prick wound on his forehead.

WALKER'S P.O.V. PUSHES TOWARDS a circular window. The glass is
cracked, covered in grime. His hand wipes it, this only smears the
dirt, but the window is unlatched and swings open with a creak.

It's dark out there.


EXT. BUILDING - NIGHT

WALKER - from outside the window - ANGLE BECOMES A RAPID FLYING
P.O.V. PULLING BACK in silence until the window is a SPECK on the
side of a vast grey tower.


INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT

Walker shivers, cold. He picks up the clothes lying on the chair
and puts them on. Loose trousers with braces, a plain shirt,
leather shoes with HOLES in both soles.

Now he steps to the door, hesitates, hand inches from the doorknob.
He leans down.

TIGHT ON HIS EYE - blinking through the key-hole.

P.O.V. OF AN EMPTY ROOM - A glimpse of motion - the door across
the room (leading to a corridor?) is shutting.


INT. HOTEL - NIGHT

WALKER pushes the door open, steps into the adjoining room. No sign
of life.

He's unsteady on his feet, doesn't notice a fishbowl on a table near
the door, bumps it.

THE BOWL falls to the floor. Water goes everywhere.

TIGHT ON A SMALL GOLDFISH flapping at his feet. WALKER'S HAND
ENTERS FRAME and picks the fish up.

He steps back into the bathroom and throws the fish into the murky
water in the tub.

BACK IN THE OTHER ROOM - SERIES OF ANGLES ON WALKER

He moves cautiously through the room. He turns a light on.

A CLOSET - Walker's hand opens it. A grey coat hangs inside. He
goes through the pockets and finds a WALLET.

TIGHT ON THE WALLET - There's no I.D. in it, just:

A laundry bill;

Some money;

A business card for something called "Neptune's Kingdom";

And a postcard from "Shell Beach", a sea-side town.

With trembling hands, Walker puts everything back into the wallet
and looks around the room once again.

As he does this, he notices something on the floor.

HIS P.O.V. follows a dark stain on the floorboards, to a woman's
bare foot behind the bed. In the shadows there lies a WOMAN'S BODY,
naked, in a RAPIDLY EXPANDING pool of blood. Her eyes stare
lifeless.

Walker throws his hands over his mouth.


INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR - NIGHT

Walker staggers from the room, grabs a wall for support.

DING!

At the end of the corridor, eleva*** doors open TO REVEAL: TWO
SHADOWY FIGURES - ONE TALL, ONE VERY SHORT.

Walker instinctively flattens himself against the wall.

The figures step from the eleva*** - still in shadow - he can't
see them clearly.

Walker makes for the stairs.


INT. LOBBY - NIGHT

Walker rushes past a deserted front desk. A VOICE from the back
room stop him in his tracks:

HOTEL MANAGER O.S.
You gotta message.

Walker looks uncertainly towards a bead curtain.

MANAGER O.S.
(Cont.)
Message! You deaf?

Walker looks to a series of nooks for messages in front of him. In
one he sees a little folded note. Reaching across the desk, he
glances through the beads into the manager's office. RADIO SOUNDS
O.S.

HIS P.O.V. - hard to see - the man sits in a chair, lit by the
glow of a T.V. set.

Walker grabs the note, looks at it. It says: JOHN WALKER - PLEASE
CALL - .. That's all - no number. Walker thrusts the message
in his pocket.

MANAGER O.S.
(Cont.)
When you gonna pay up? That's three
weeks y-owe me!

Totally confused now, Walker sees something.

WALKER
I...

WALKER'S P.O.V. - a painting on a wall (cheap print variety) -
waves on a beach. A breeze rustles the pages of a calender, pinned
beside the picture.

TIGHT ON WALKER - MOVE IN on his ear. O.S. surf crashes on
shore. A WOMAN'S VOICE WHISPERS:

VOICE O.S.
What's your name... What's your
name...

He backs away from the painting, looks around in panic - sees a
sign: TOILETS. An outlined hand points the way.

A PHONE on the front desk starts ringing.

The MANAGER, a squat man with glasses, steps through the bead
curtain just in time to see Walker run from the lobby.

MANAGER
(calls after him)
Hey!

He grabs the receiver aggressively and barks into it.

MANAGER
(Cont.)
Yeah. What?


INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR - NIGHT

ANGLE FOLLOWS Walker as he pushes shakily through a red door, runs
down a corridor.

Pipes on the walls steam and drip water.

Walker rounds a corner, slips, nearly falls.


INT. MENS' ROOM - NIGHT

Puddles on the floor, stains on the walls.

Walker bursts through the door and into a cubicle. He bends over a
toilet bowl and VOMITS.


INT. HOTEL LOBBY - NIGHT

The manager puts the phone down. he returns to the back-room and
is just turning the volume up on hhs radio, when:

HAND-HELD P.O.V. watches him THROUGH the swaying beads hanging in
the back-room doorway. TWO FIGURES (these two are normal height)
peer into the room.

STRANGER 1
Where is John Walker?

THE HOTEL MANAGER stands, moves forward through the beads.

MANAGER
Whatcha want him for? Friend of
yours...

The manager trails off to silence - he's noticed just how weird
these guys look.

A BLACK GLOVED HAND suddenly GRIPS the manager's neck. He
struggles, gulps for air, is pushed back against the wall.

ON THE MEN - STRANGERS - members of the mysterious group we saw
earlier. They wear long black coats, have extremely pale skin, and
are completely bald. Creepy.

STRANGER 2
Where is he?

The leather glove SQUEEZES, and the manager makes like he wants to
speak. Stranger 2 loosens his grip.

MANAGER
He left... five minutes ago...

ANGLE ON - a tiny hand pulling at Stranger 2's coat. The two
Strangers move aside.

The manager looks down to see A TINY CHILD-LIKE FIGURE.

This MISTER SLEEP - a miniature version of the Strangers, a
child but not a child.

Mister Sleep steps forward and Stranger 2 leans down to let him
whisper something in his ear - Mister Sleep never speaks above a
whisper.

Stranger 1 then stands upright and looks at Stranger 2.

STRANGER 1
Mister Sleep wants to play.

Stranger 2 smiles.

Mister Sleep steps towards the struggling manager. A FLASH OF STEEL
- Mister Sleep grips a DAGGER by his side.


INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT

We are underwater. WALKER'S FACE swims into view. Bubbles spew
from the mouth, the eyes stare wide.

ANGLE ON MEN'S ROOM

Walker washes his face in a dirty sink. He looks up, wipes his face
dry with his coat.

ANOTHER ANGLE

A breeze tugs at his stringy hair. A tiny ventilation grill high on
the wall above the sink looks out at the street. Walker raises
himself up on his toes.

HIS P.O.V. - OUTSIDE

Sheets of newspaper blow past. A full moon, surrounded by blood red
clouds, hangs above empty streets.

He turns towards the door.

There are TWO - identical.

PAN BACK TO WALKER - Can't remember which door he came through.
He takes a guess, opens one and steps into darkness.

A moment too late he realizes he's picked the wrong door, tries to
go back but the door CLICKS behind him: locked.

WALKER
Shit!


INT. CONCRETE TUNNEL

Pitch black. Trickling water. A distant P.A. VOICE recites names
and numbers. LIGHT, far away.

MOVING ANGLE ON Walker as he walks. He glances around, nervous. He
feels something in his pocket, pulls it out.

ANGLE ON A REVOLVER in his hand.

Walker comes to a halt, examines the gun carefully. He opens the
chamber.

TIGHT ON THE GUN - six shiny bullets.

He turns the chamber carefully, shuts it, doesn't really know what
to do with it.

VOICE O.S.
There you are.

Startled, Walker turns. A figure moves out of darkness: It's
STRANGER 1 from the hotel lobby.

He studies Walker carefully.

Walker glances about nervously - BACKS AWAY along the corridor,
eyes on the man.

STRANGER
You are lost, yes?

Walker has his back against the wall. He sees that the Stranger
holds a blade in his right hand.

STRANGER
(Cont.)
Do not make this difficult.

Walker's cornered. He remembers the revolver, LEVELS it at the man,
his hand shaking badly.

ON THE STRANGER - advancing. Something about his eyes makes
Walker immobile, unable to think clearly.

STRANGER
(Cont.)
You will not shoot, yes.

THE GUN FIRES once. Red splashes on the man. His shoulder. But he
keeps walking. BANG! Another shot. He jerks as the bullet ripts
into his chest, but keeps advancing.

A final shot POINT BLANK into the man's forehead. A stream of black
liquid spouts from the hole.

Blue smoke clears.

Terrified, Walker lowers the gun.

A BEAT of silence - the Stranger stands motionless. Then his eyes
roll up, and he collapses to the ground.

Walker looks around uncertainly then runs, and disappears down a
corridor.

TIGHT ANGLE - on the fallen man - HOLD on the still figure, then
feet step INTO FRAME.

REVEAL Stranger 2 - he looks around for Walker: not a sign - then
bends down to his comrade.


INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR - MOMENTS LATER

TRACK WITH STRANGER 2 as he walks UP THE CORRIDOR and into Walker's
hotel room...

REVEAL A HIDING FIGURE - a man wearing thick spectacles, clutching
a leather bag, obscured by the shadows. He watches the Stranger go
past...


INT. ROOM 43/BATHROOM - NIGHT

The room is illuminated by light spilling through the open door from
the corridor.

A TALL STRANGER, clutching a silver metal case, stands staring down
at the BROKEN SYRINGE on the bathroom floor. His expressionless
face is as close to perplexed as it can get. This is MISTER HAND.

STRANGER 2 steps across to Mister Hand. Stranger 2 just shakes his
head slowly.

MISTER HAND
And Mister Quick?

STRANGER 2
He is alright.

Stranger 2 indicates a small black box he holds in his open palm.

Mister Hand nods, moves into the bedroom.

Stranger 2 stops near the body of the dead woman, kicks at her with
his foot.

Mister Hand is at the OPEN WINDOW, looking out into the night.

MISTER HAND
We will find him.

ANGLE PUSHES THROUGH WINDOW TO FRAME CITY SKYLINE...


INT. MORGUE/CORRIDOR - NIGHT

CLICKING of new leather shoes, striking tiles.

ANGLE MOVES WITH FRANK BUMSTEAD - police inspec***. He's forty,
losing hair and gaining pounds.

He reaches into his pocket, removes a SURGICAL MASK, places it over
his nose and mouth.

Suddenly a FEMALE MORTICIAN steps into the corridor. Bumstead
doesn't notice and runs right into her. The mortician gasps on
impact, startled.

BUMSTEAD
(to mortician)
Gesundheit!

The mortician looks confused but she smiles politely.

Bumstead is already moving off quickly. He obviously has a lot on
his mind.

WIDER ANGLE - Bumstead stops before a man with a moustache
standing at the end of the corridor. Older and taller than
Bumstead, he is dressed identically to the inspec***. This is his
superior: CHIEF-INSPEC*** MARCUS STROMBOLI.

BUMSTEAD
(Cont.)
Good evening, sir.

STROMBOLI
You're late.

BUMSTEAD
Really?
(looks at watch)
Actually, according to my watch,
I'm...

STROMBOLI
Why have you got that thing on your
face?

BUMSTEAD
Germs, sir. This place is full of
them.

STROMBOLI
(even)
Mm-hm.

Stromboli waves dismissively.

STROMBOLI
(Cont.)
Fine. This way.

He leads Bumstead into a tiled room containing several COVERED
BODIES. The two men are greeted by a CORONER and a very thin
forensics man named EUGENE CAPEK.

CORONER
Gentlemen. Running ahead of
schedule tonight?

Stromboli looks annoyed, glances briefly at Bumstead.

CORONER
(Cont.)
Make yourselves at home.

Stromboli then ignores the coroner and, after a quick nod to Capek,
walks along the row of corpses. Bumstead follows.

ANGLE MOVES WITH STROMBOLI - as he silently throws back covers to
reveal horribly mutilated BODIES.

STROMBOLI
We know very little about him. He
likes to cut them. Always the same
type of blade. A match in each
case...

He removes the sheet froma YOUNG WOMAN. Capek takes particular
interest in this corpse.

STROMBOLI
(Cont.)
The latest. Pretty.
(looks at her face)
He made incisions in her jugulars
and strung her up by her ankles.

CAPEK
To drain the blood.

STROMBOLI
Yes. Then he dumped her in the
canal.

STROMBOLI shakes his head, turns away from the body, looks at
Bumstead.

IN THE B.G. - Capek and the coroner are talking quietly to each
other, we cannot hear what is said.

STROMBOLI
(Cont.)
Capek here, is the new chief of
Forensics. You'll be seeing a lot
of each other.

Bumstead and Capek shake hands.

BUMSTEAD
What about Kowolski, sir? Isnнt it
his case?

STROMBOLI
Kowolski's had some kind of a
breakdown or some damn thing

BUMSTEAD
I didn't know that.

STROMBOLI
I thought it best he take a long
rest. The case is your
responsibility now.
(less business-like)
And howнs your mother?

BUMSTEAD
She's... progressing, thankyou.
She...

STROMBOLI (cuts in)
Very good. Give her my regards,
will you.
(turns to Capek)
All yours Doc***.

Capek nods slowly, and turns to start examining the woman.

STROMBOLI
(Cont.)
Letнs go, Bumstead. So much to do
and so little time.


EXT. BUILDING - NIGHT

A large faded BILLBOARD on a building facade: an advertisement
featuring a smiling woman clutching a product called, "LUMP-O" - a
cereal box.

ANGLE MOVES IN STEADILY, rises upwards, CLOSER on the womanнs face,
ENTERS a hole at the centre of her PAINTED IRIS.


INT. STAIR-WELL

A raftered room on the other side of the billboard. CAMERA TILTS TO
a convoluted staircase - at the base, the SHADOW OF A MAN runs.

MOVING ANGLE on running feet - TILT UP TO REVEAL WALKER.

A DEAD-END. Walker stops, looks up. Heнs breathing hard. He
starts to shake.

ABOVE, the walls stretch away into darkness. An OPENING way up
there - he can see stars.

A RUSHING NOISE in the distance. Wind starts to kick up trash.

Walker reaches into his coat pocket and removes what appears to be
a collection of newspaper clippings. A WALLET-SIZE TATTERED
PHOTOGRAPH is folded amongst these: a woman's face. He holds the
photo up. There's handwriting on the back:

...LOVE YOU FOREVER - EMMA...

Then he looks through the clippings. He starts to shuffle
frantically from one clipping to the next.

His LEGS SLIP from under him and he falls to the ground. He holds
his head like itнs going to explode. A whimper sounds deep in his
throat. His body is trembling violently.

PUSH IN TIGHT - the clippings on the ground. Several front-page
headlines. As the wind picks up and carries off each subsequent
clipping we catch glimpses of the headlines: MAN-HUNT CONTINUES
FOR SERIAL KILLER! KILLER STRIKES AGAIN! POLICE SAY: KILLER ON
THE RUN!

Вот пожалуйста, этот сценарий я начал изучать и очень удивился, сплошные P.O.V., ANGLE, TIGHT. Возможно конечно это такой авторский стиль, но оператор тут задвинут в очень жесткие рамки.