FRANKENSTEIN from the novel by Mary W. Shelley screen story by Steph Lady & James V. Hart previous draft by Steph Lady revised draft by Frank Darabont For TriStar Pictures & American Zoetrope 2ND REVISED DRAFT February 8, 1993 TITLES UNFOLD IN BLACKNESS as we are lulled by the distant flute-like sounds of a recorder. Overall the effect is mournful and haunting, elegant and serene ... ... and we CRASH TO: EXT - BARENTS SEA - NIGHT ... a storm of inconceivable force and violence. Merciless arctic winds whip the sea in a frenzy of thirty-foot swells. This is the last place in God's creation that any human being should be. And yet ... ...the prow of a three-masted ship rises massively before us, looming from the darkness and chaos. it crashes upward through a swell and slams back down again, plunging nose- first into the trough. The sails on the forward mast are still deployed. It's insane; in this weather they should be stowed (as is already the case with masts 2 and 3). Hurtling toward us. Rising and falling. Thundering through the swells. And as she sweeps past CAMERA within a seeming hairbreadth, we PAN with the ship and find ourselves ... EXT - SHIP - NIGHT ... aboard the "Alexander Nevsky," along for the ride whether we like it or not. There are men all around us, dark screaming FIGURES glimpsed and half-glimpsed, heavy oilskin clothes flapping in the gale. A GROUP OF MEN are in a life- or-death tug of war WALTON PULL, YOU BASTARDS! PULL! Riiiiippp! All eyes turn skyward as the uppermost sail tears loose, the heavy canvas shredding away in huge billowing tatters. The jib-arm wrenches free and plummets toward us, trailing rope and fabric. The men dive aside as the jib smashes into the deck like an exploding bomb. Splintered shards of wood cartwheel through the air like shrapnel. Walton catches a glancing blow to the head and slams face- down on the pitching deck. GRIGORI, the first mate, scrambles to Walton's aid. Walton shoves him off, pushes painfully to his knees. LIGHTNING throws his face into a stark relief map of pain and fury: blood is streaming from his hairline, freezing in his eyes, staining his teeth. He gazes up at the mainsail, still intact and straining against the wind. We hear a huge CRACK! The base of the mast is starting to give. (CONTINUED) 2 WALTON Cut the damn rigging free before we lose the mast! Long-handled axes are grabbed from their mounts. Frantic men begin hacking at the ropes. Walton snatches an axe from a passing crewman and elbows his way to the front. He attacks a guy-rope with primal fury, CAMERA rising and falling with the motion of his axe. Suddenly, a chilling cry from high above: LOOKOUT (O.S.) IIIICEBEEEEERG! THE CROW'S NEST (MAST #2) The LOOKOUT is lashed to the mast by means of a safety rope knotted at the chest. He points ahead. WALTON and the others spin to look as A PANORAMIC SHOT OF THE BARENTS SEA reveals a magnificent vista of storming fury. The ship is heading into an enormous field of icebergs dotting the ocean like boulders in a quarry, The Nevsky is plying these waters like a man running pell-mell through a mine field. An iceberg passes massively and unexpectedly in the foreground, rumbling within yards of the camera, wiping us into darkness ... EXT - NEVSKY - NIGHT ... and we wipe from darkness as a flapping piece of canvas billows away to reveal 'Walton and the crew, gazing in breathless horror as an iceberg looms from the gale before them like a ghostly white mountain. Walton finds his voice: WALTON HARD TO PORT! THE PILOT fights to turn the wheel. Men rush to his aid, throw their backs into it, straining to the limit. The wheel is grudging, fighting them every inch of the way. PUSH IN on Walton and the crew: GRIGORI It's going to ram us. WALTON It wouldn't dare. (CONTINUED) 3 THE CROW'S NEST (MAST #2) The lookout fumbles under his coat, grabs the rosary around his neck, clutches the crucifix tightly in both hands. Face white with terror. Breath coming in ragged gasps. SHIP'S POV Crashing through the swells. Rising and falling. Tilting the world and the audience on its ear. iceberg looming. For a brief moment we seem to be veering past. But then we swing back in a final, churning, vertiginous plunge... ... and smack the ice. VARIOUS QUICK-CUT ANGLES God just hit the ship with an anvil. Mast #1 snaps at the base with a thunderous CRACK and begins to topple in a symphony of shattering wood and tangled rigging ... The lookout on mast #2 is vaulted through the railing of the crow's nest, screaming through the air, arms and legs windmilling as he plummets head-first toward the deck below ... And is jerked to an abrupt stop by the safety line around his chest, We hear another horrible CRACK ... the sound of his back breaking ... Men are sliding, tumbling, screaming. Mast #1 completes its fall, slamming massively to the deck,. shattering a section of the gunwale to splinters. Utter panic. Total chaos. . Sheer mortal terror. And as the sequence builds to a final brain-splitting crescendo of sound and fury, we SMASH CUT TO: ARCTIC - TWILIGHT Total, stunning silence. A glittering wasteland of ice. Breathlessly cold. Even the sun seems frozen, barely hanging on the horizon. Pellets of snow scour the permafrost like broken glass, driven by a desolate arctic wind. It's as if Hell had erupted through the floor of the Earth in the form of ice. Nothing could survive here. Nothing. SLOW PAN reveals a distant ship frozen in the ice, tilted at a permanent list. Silent. We see no signs of life. SUPE TITLE: "The Arctic, 1839. VARIOUS LINGERING ANGLES provide ominous detail-shots of the Nevsky (CONTINUED) 4 A flap of frozen canvas creaks in the wind ... The pilot's wheal is now a crystalline sculpture of ice. The forward mast lies across the deck like a broken limb, extending out over the ice on a tangle of rigging... The ship's prow is smashed open above the water line ... A familiar rosary lies broken on the deck. Beads scattered. A tiny Christ figure lies with arms thrown wide, painted eyes staring up at the sky through a thin sheet of ice ... HIGH, HIGH ANGLE From the top of mast #2. A breathtaking perspective of the entire ship below, guaranteed to induce vertigo. The corpse of the lookout is suspended below us at the end of the frozen rope, His posture mimics the Christ figure: His arms thrown wide, dead eyes staring up at the sky through a thin sheet of ice. A ghastly still-life, the corpse twisting ever-so-slightly on the wind, rope creaking ... A SAILOR thrusts into frame swaying precariously in the rigging, WIDEN to reveal TWO MORE MEN as they reach out with long gaffing poles to snag the corpse. EXT - NEVSKY - LOW ANGLE FROM ICE - TWILIGHT Walton watches them reel the body in. ANGLE SHIFTS as he turns, revealing the rest of the crew working desperately to free the ship. Axes and picks rise and fall in waves, slamming into the ice, throwing up frozen chips. The men are near collapse, exhaustion carved in their faces. The dogs are nearby, huskies and malamutes huddled in the snow. Walton rejoins the men, rams his axe fiercely into the ice. WALTON Put your backs into it! SAILOR #1 What's the use? This godless ice stretches for miles! Would you have us chow our way back to England? WALTON No. But we'll chop our way to the North Pole if we have to. Inch by bloody inch. GRIGORI You can't mean to go on! Our journey is ended! The best we can hope for now is to get out of this alive! (CONTINUED) 5 SAILOR #2 Aye, if the ice ever lets us! WALTON The ice will break. And when it does, we proceed north ... as planned. Cries of dismay from the men. Grigori thrusts his arm toward the sky, pointing at the corpse on the mast. GRIGORI At the cost of how many more lives? He's interrupted by a long, chilling HOWL. The lead husky rises to its feet, hackles up, HOWLING at some unseen thing in the distance. The other dogs start rising around him, joining in, staring off across the ice. GRIGORI There's something out there. The dogs are going berserk. The lead husky breaks free and launches himself across the ice. The men scramble to restrain the animals, but three more break away and take off after their leader. Walton snatches up his rifle. WALTON You five come with me! The rest stay with the ship! EXT - ARCTIC PANORAMA - TWILIGHT The Nevsky in the distance. The dogs come howling across the ice toward us. The men trail substantially behind. BOOM DOWN to the icy boulders f.g. A massive hand comes briefly to rest in one of the crags, ghastly gray skin rippling with harsh ligaments and sinewy veins, brutal surgical scars marring the wrist. A HUGE DARK FIGURE wipes frame, fleeing into the rocks. The dogs come bounding past in pursuit, snarling and slavering. THE RUNNING MEN hear an INHUMAN HOWL rise amidst those of the dogs. A vicious free-for-all echoes from the rocks. Barking gives way to shrill squeals. An object is launched from the crags, catapulted through the air in a high arc. Some men slip and fall as the object slams to the ground with tremendous impact before them ... ...and they find themselves staring in horror At the sight of the lead dog. Silence now. Those who have fallen, rise. Walton cocks his rifle. The group proceeds, picks and axes held ready, slowly skirting the rocks ... (CONTINUED) 6 ... and the massacre is revealed. Blood-stained ice. Dead, mangled animals strewn about. One twitching survivor crawls toward them on broken limbs, whining piteously, dragging its entrails in a red smear. GRIGORI Look. They follow his gaze. Bloody tracks lead away from the bodies, ascending the rocks. Most are smeared and vague ... but one is clearly a bare human footprint. Several men cross themselves. Walton shoulders the rifle, aims down at the surviving dog. BLAM! A single bullet to the brain ends its misery, punching a halo of blood onto the ice. The shot echoes for miles. WALTON Back to the ship. EXT - NEVSKY - ESTABLISHING - NIGHT Silhouetted against the aurora borealis. The horizon swirls mysteriously with color and light. Distant slivers of lightning kiss the earth. Men keep watch in furtive groups, huddled against the cold, breath punching the air with billows of vapor. A massive CRACKLING is heard. A YOUNG SAILOR spins, jumpy. OLD SAILOR Only the ice to starboard, boy. YOUNG SAILOR Is it breaking up? OLD SAILOR Just dancing on the current. It'll freeze even tighter come next wind CAMERA DRIFTS past to another group: SAILOR #4 It was a polar bear. That's what I say. SAILOR #5 Say all you want, but you weren't there. It left human tracks. SAILOR #6 No man could tear those dogs apart SAILOR #5 No human. We've roused a demon from the ice. (CONTINUED) 7 CLANG-CLANG! The men spin. A SAILOR on starboard has rung the signal bell. The men race over, crowding the gunwale. SAILOR Something. In the mist. Walton appears from his cabin and crowds his way to the front, rifle aimed at the sky. The men wait. Holding their breath. Scanning the darkness. AN APPARITION looms eerily from the mist on a creaking floe of ice, silhouetted by the shifting light of the borealis. The figure's pose is uncanny and weird: neither standing nor kneeling, but something in between, arm dangling at its side and lolling slowly with the motion of the current. YOUNG SAILOR It's the demon! Shoot while you've a chance! The Pilot lights the kerosene wick of a reflector box" spotlight and swings it around. The beam seeks out the specter and pins it in a dim circle of light ... revealing a man collapsed on a dog sled, lashed to tiller upright stanchions with frozen leather straps, Dead dogs lie in icy heaps around him. EXT - NEVSKY - NIGHT The men venture onto the shifting ice with lanterns raised. Grappling lines are unslung and thrown, the ice floe snagged. Gaffs reach out, drawing it closer. Men clasp arms, forming a human chain. Grigori is the first to reach the motionless figure on the dog sled. WALTON Dead? Grigori cautiously eases his hand into the darkness of the furred hood to search the neck for a pulse ... ... and the figure scares the s-hit out of him. With a convulsive shudder and a gasping intake of breath, the hood rises up, revealing a haggard face tortured white with frost, beard frozen solid, eyes blazingly intelligent and aware. Walton finds himself in an extended beat of eye contact with VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN. EXT - NEVSKY - ON DECK - NIGHT A HOWLING WIND has kicked up, pelting the huddled sentries with sleet. CAMERA TRACKS past, moving steadily toward the dimly-glowing window of Walton's cabin ... (CONTINUED) 8 INT - WALTON'S CABIN - NIGHT ... where we find Walton and Grigori in tense discussion: GRIGORI Captain, I implore you. The men are frightened and angry. They want your assurance. WALTON They knew the risks when they signed on. I've come too far to turn back now. GRIGORI Then you run the danger of pushing them to mutiny. Walton pulls a pistol from his drawer and slams it flat on the table before him. WALTON (low, tight) Let them try. Grigori is taken aback. He hears a shifting of blankets and glances to the captain's bed. Walton follows his look. Frankenstein has awakened and is watching them. Grigori exits, uneasy under Frankenstein's gaze. Walton rises, retrieves a pot from the stove. WALTON You're awake. I've prepared some broth. It'll help restore you. VICTOR (hoarse, faltering) I'm ... dying. Victor draws a hand from under the blanket and holds it before his face. Fingers skeletal and black. VICTOR Frostbite. Gangrene. A simple diagnosis. WALTON Are you a physician? VICTOR (faint smile) How is it you come to be here? (CONTINUED) 9 WALTON There's a startling question, coming from you. (beat) I'm captain of this ship. We sailed from Archangel a month ago, seeking a passage to the North Pole. VICTOR Ah. An explorer. WALTON Would-be. I'm plagued with my share of difficulties just at the moment. VICTOR I heard. WALTON I can't say I blame them. We're trapped in this ice and bedeviled by some sort of ... creature. VICTOR Creature? A ... human like creature? WALTON (stunned) You know of it? VICTOR Your men are right to be afraid. WALTON Then explain it, whatever it is. It could save the voyage. I've spent years planning this. My entire fortune VICTOR You'd persist at the cost of your own life? The lives of your crew? WALTON Lives are ephemeral. The knowledge we gain, the achievements we leave behind ... those live on. Victor reaches out with his blackened claw of a hand, pulls him closer. Impassioned, intense: VICTOR Do you share my madness? WALTON Madness? (CONTINUED) 10 CAMERA PUSHES SLOWLY on Victor's face ... VICTOR We are kindred, you and I. Men of ambition. Let me tell you all that I have lost in such pursuits. I pray my story will come to mean for you all that is capricious and evil in man. WALTON (angry, frightened) Who are you? VICTOR (beat) My name is Frankenstein ... and CAMERA proceeds into the bottomless depths of Victor's staring eye, plunging us into: TOTAL DARKNESS. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. A METRONOME fades up before us. WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.) Failure has no pride, Victor. You must try again. LITTLE BOY (O.S. Yes, Ma'am. INT - GRAND BALLROOM - FRANKENSTEIN MMSION - DAY We hear a HARPSICHORD begin playing as a WIDER ANGLE reveals a huge, Magnificent room with vaulted ceilings thirty feet high. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Hanging tapestries. VICTOR sits at the harpsichord, a very serious 7 year-old in his little gentleman's suit and stiff starched collar. MRS. MORITZ, head of the housekeeping staff, conducts the lesson. Her daughter JUSTINE, age 4, sits with her doll in a huge wingback chair, making it dance to the music as she listens ... but her eyes are on Victor. She adores him. An enormous door swings open. Victor stops playing. His PARENTS enter, ushering a somber and beautiful ELIZABETH, age 6, across the vast expanse of floor. Victor slides off the bench and faces them. FATHER Mrs. Moritz, would you and your daughter excuse us? (CONTINUED) 11 MRS. MORITZ Of course, Doctor. Madam. Come along, Justine. Bring your dolly. Mrs. Moritz takes Justine's hand. Justine gazes back at Victor and Elizabeth as her mother whisks her off. MOTHER Victor. This is Elizabeth. She's coming to live with us. FATHER She has lost her parents to scarlet fever. She is an orphan. MOTHER You must think of her as your own sister. You must look after her. And be kind to her. Victor stares at Elizabeth. She returns the gaze evenly, self-possessed and dignified even at this young age. ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.) I loved her from the moment that I first saw her. EXT - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - NIGHT A MASSIVE BOLT OF LIGHTNING hammers from the sky, reducing a centuries-old oak tree to smoldering ruin ... INT - DOWNSTAIRS PARL0R - NIGHT ... while '(slaps them on the bed) ' gazes at the storm, face pressed against a window, astonished at the sight. Lightning throws seething shadows of the rain on his face. his '... and Grigori breaks the surface again, rising slowly And impossibly from the water. arms and legs windmill against the air, propelled from below with nearly aulic strength. He gazes down in shock at the massive fist clutching his chest ... and the arm ' appears. MOTHER Victor. Elizabeth is frightened by the storm. Go comfort her. INT - UPPER LANDING - NIGHT We hear a CHILD SOBBING. Victor comes racing up the grand staircase from below as LIGHTNING sends wild banister shadows Littering. He caroms down the hall toward: INT - ELIZABETH'S ROOM - NIGHT Victor enters. Elizabeth is a tiny figure huddled in an adult-size bed, gazing up with tear-streaked face at the huge skylights in the vaulted ceiling, dreading the next scary boom and flash. Victor approaches and whispers: (CONTINUED) 12 VICTOR Don't cry, Elizabeth. ELIZABETH (frightened) Aren't you? KA-BOOM! A LIGHTNING BOLT rips overhead, rattling the panes of glass. Victor does find it scary ... but exhilarating. VICTOR We'll build a fort. So the lightning can't get us. He races about the room, grabbing every pillow he can find and hurling them to her. Big decorative pillows from the chaise, bed pillows from the armoire ... they all come flying. She giggles as a big one knocks her flat. Victor scampers onto the bed with her. They pile the pillows around and above, concealing themselves in a bulging heap of cushions. INSIDE THE PILLOW-FORT Victor pokes his hand up, widening a space so they can still see. Lightning glistens in their upturned eyes. ELIZABETH Are you sure it can't hurt us? VICTOR Nothing can. Not ever. She seeks his hand. Fingers clasp. Comfort and strength. TILT UP to the skylight. Rain drumming the glass ... INT - MANSION - GRAND BALLROOM - DAY Victor and Elizabeth are learning to waltz, their movements stiff and awkward, childlike. MRS. MORITZ is at the harpsichord. Justine sits with her dolly, watching. MRS. MORITZ You must lead, Victor. The lady will always look to you for guidance, so your steps must be sure and strong ... VICTOR Mrs. Moritz. MRS. MORITZ ... aaand, one-two-three, one-two- three, twirl- two-three ... JUSTINE Mama, can I dance with Victor? (CONTINUED) 13 MRS. MORITZ Nonsense, Justine. Hush. And now a sweeping arc about the room! one- two-three, twirl-two-three Victor and Elizabeth gamely work their way across the vast room, tripping on each other's toes. They pass within inches of CAMERA, bodies WIPING FRAME ... INT - GRAND BALLROOM - DAY (TEN YEARS LATER) ... and they sweep from before our eyes, waltzing away from camera to reveal Victor now 17, intense and handsome as he approaches manhood. Elizabeth is a blossoming and graceful beauty at 16. Mrs. Moritz is still conducting the lessons, but the person at t MRS. MORITZ ... one-two-three, twirl-two-three.. Excellent! You'll be the envy of all the young ladies and gentlemen! They're certainly the envy of Justine, who gazes at Victor as he sweeps Elizabeth around the room in his arms. She isn't concentrating and fumbles on the keyboard. Her mother throws her a look of reproval: MRS. MORITZ Justine. Surely you can maintain better time than that. JUSTINE Yes, Mama. Flustered, she puts her attention back on the keyboard as Victor and Elizabeth keep dancing, swirling fluidly about the room, their attention only on each other. INT - UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT A skylight above us. A storm is raging, rain drumming the glass. We hear SCREAMING in the house. TILT DOWN to Victor perched at the edge of a settee, seething with tension. Waiting. Elizabeth is with him. She squeezes his arm, trying to reassure him. ELIZABETH She'll be all right. Another SCREAM rips down the hallway. Justine comes scurrying up the stairs, about to enter his parent's room with a fresh load of sheets. Victor lunges to his feet and intercepts, trying to push past her, but finds the doorway implacably blocked by Mrs. Moritz. (CONTINUED) 14 MRS. MORITZ You can do nothing here. Wait downstairs. He can see his mother in the dim kerosene light, writhing and screaming on the bed, belly swollen and distended. His father, sleeves rolled up, works feverishly to save her. VICTOR Mother? FATHER Victor, do as you're told! Justine glances at Victor, longing to comfort him. She squeezes past into the room. The door slams in his face. He turns to Elizabeth, eyes brimming with terror ... INT - PARENTS' BEDROOM - NIGHT ... as his mother falls back on the sweat-soaked sheets, blowing air like a bellows, trying to give birth ... EXT - MANSION - NIGHT ... while her SCREAMS mingle with the howling of the wind. the stump of the long-dead oak tree pokes from the earth in the foreground like a gravestone, lashed by the rain. INT - DOWNSTAIRS PARLOR - NIGHT VICTOR stares out the window at the raging storm. Elizabeth appears at his side. He doesn't look at her. VICTOR As a boy, I stood at this window and watched God destroy our tree. b.g screaming stops, Victor and Elizabeth turn, gazing up the grand staircase. The sudden silence is even more frightening. The FAINT CRY of a newborn infant drifts down A door opens upstairs, throwing a spill of light. Victor's father appears in silhouette, comes down the stairs toward them. He pauses halfway down, unable to continue. VICTOR Father? A FLASH OF LIGHTNING floods the room, revealing Victor's father on the staircase. Face haggard. Eyes hollow. Clothes spattered with blood. Hands glistening wetly red. ELIZABETH Oh God. The blood. (CONTINUED) 15 Father sits down shakily on a step. Victor and Elizabeth race up the stairs and pause before him. FATHER I did everything I could. Victor lets out a sob of anguish. Elizabeth begins to cry. Father gathers them into his arms. EXT - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - CEMETERY - DAY A BABY CARRIAGE stands amidst leaning gravestones, gothic and ornate, a chill breeze billowing the lace. A PRIEST recites a Latin burial mass. DOZENS OF MOURNERS are gathered before the Frankenstein family mausoleum ... an imposing edifice of stone and spidery wrought-iron, its steepled roof crowned by a massive granite crucifix. A sleek black casket lies atop the bier, ringed with flowers and sorrow. The trees are windswept and bare, branches stark against a steely gray sky. Victor and Elizabeth stand apart from the others, staring at the casket. Softly: VICTOR How could all my father's knowledge and skill fail to save her? ELIZABETH It's not ours to decide. All that live must die. It's God's will. Victor raises a grim look at the huge crucifix atop the mausoleum. Christ returns his gaze with blank stone eyes VICTOR What kind of God is He to will this? ELIZABETH She was mother to me as well. But ours is the job of the living. It's up to us now to hold this family together. We must think of Father and be strong for him. (beat) I cannot do that alone. VICTOR God took her from us. ELIZABETH He left a beautiful gift in her place. A baby boy. To cherish and love as our very own. Your brother (CONTINUED) 16 Victor glances at the baby carriage. He seeks her hand. Their fingers clasp. Comfort and strength. VICTOR Our brother. The baby starts CRYING as the casket is lowered, its thin voice carried on the wind ... EXT - MEADOW - DAY A gorgeous, sun-dappled day. Tall grass waving on the breeze. Butterflies skittering. WILLIAM, 11 months-old, toddles into view. He doesn't get far. PLOP! Down he goes, right on his ass. His face scrunches up in surprise and he bursts into tears. Elizabeth hurries over and scoops him up, cradling and comforting him. Victor rises from a picnic blanket to join them. Nanny Justine looks up from her task of laying out the silverware and food. JUSTINE Poor William! What indignant tears! ELIZABETH There, there ... shhh ... Victor takes the baby and swoops him high in the air. The child shrieks and wails, held aloft. ELIZABETH Victor, have a care! You'll make him dizzy! VICTOR The world is a dizzying place. She tries to reclaim the baby. Victor feints, keeping Willie out of reach. Elizabeth grows crosser: ELIZABETH Oh, do give him here! He needs to be comforted and held! VICTOR He needs to vent his outrage to the skies! Make yourself heard, Willie! Learning to walk is not an easy thing! Why should it be so? Elizabeth is exasperated to realize that the baby has begun to laugh. She glares at both of them. Men. (CONTINUED) 17 ELIZABETH That's the nature of all progress, William. Don't let your brother sway you otherwise. JUSTINE Quite right! Victor cradles Willie as if to shield his delicate ears. He peers at Elizabeth with mock-grave suspicion and speaks to the baby sotto-voce, in deepest confidence, man-to-man: VICTOR Don't listen, Willie. Progress is a feast to be consumed. Women would have you believe you must walk before you can run. or run before you can waltz! ELIZABETH (laughing) Give me that child before you fill his head with drivel! Victor waltzes the baby in circles. Elizabeth stalks them. VICTOR Devil take walking, ladies! My brother shall learn to waltz! He grabs her by the waist, pulls her into it. There's no use resisting. She succumbs and they dance with the baby between them. Justine is gasping with laughter. JUSTINE Elizabeth, really! He's quite mad! ELIZABETH Scandalous! What would your dear mother say? JUSTINE (thinks a beat) one-two-three, one-two-three, twirl-two-three ... Laughing, Victor and Elizabeth waltz little William around in a sweeping arc. They pass within inches of the CAMERA, bodies wiping frame ... INT - GRAND BALLROOM - NIGHT (6 YEARS LATER) ... and 'Come now. Magnus? Agrippa? Next thing you know, you''ll be teaching toadstools to speak.' and CREATURE sweep from before our eyes to reveal the grand ballroom ablaze with candlelight and spectacle as a HUNDRED DANCERS swirl about the floor in a (CONTINUED) 18 breathtaking waltz to the music of a full string ensemble (NOTE: The music here should be our movie's distinctive WALTZ/LOVE THEME, which will reoccur later.) Victor and Elizabeth dance magnificently, room spinning about them in a blur. Now 24, he's in the prime of manhood. Elizabeth, 23, is a drop-dead beauty radiating poise and intelligence. They're so right for each other, so beautiful together, your heart could break just looking at them. Justine, now 21, has blossomed into a beauty herself. She's at the sidelines, wearing a lovely gown, wishing someone would ask her to dance. William, now 7, scampers to her side. She stoops to straighten his collar and smooth back his hair. Waltzing couples swirl past them. WILLIE Auntie Justine, Papa said I could have a sweet. JUSTINE You can. But not before dinner. The music ends amidst applause. The men bow to the ladies, the ladies curtsy in return. Victor escorts Elizabeth off the dance floor. Elizabeth fans herself, flushed and happy. JUSTINE You dance so beautifully together. ELIZABETH And you look so lovely. They share a sisterly hug and a radiant smile. The orchestra recommences. The music is lush. Justine looks hopefully to Victor, keeping her tone light: JUSTINE Victor? Spare me one dance? Elizabeth catches Victor's eye. ELIZABETH Go on, ask her. Please. I'm quite out of breath, Victor gallantly offers his arm. Justine takes it, lighting up as he escorts her onto the dance floor ... ...and they begin to dance. She's glowing. This is a big moment for her. But they've hardly begun, when... ...ting-ting-ting, Victor's father is tapping a champagne glass with a knife. The dancers stop. The orchestra falls silent. Justine hides her disappointment as servants pass among the guests with glasses of champagne. (CONTINUED) 19 FATHER My friends, fatherly pride won't allow this occasion to pass without my raising a toast. Shouts of assent. Victor is grabbed by his friends and dragged forward, a glass of champagne shoved in his hands FATHER To Victor. My son. Who read every medical book in my library by age thirteen ... and then re-read them, which seemed excessive even to me. (the guests ROAR with laughter) Drape yourself in glory, my boy. Study well. When you return, you return a man of medicine. I will then be honored to call you "colleague." VICTOR But never your equal. FATHER No. You'll surpass me. Applause and roars of approval. The drinks are tossed back. Victor is jostled with backslaps and handshakes. EXT - MANSION -'NIGHT Music and warm light spill from the windows. A COUPLE eases through a French door and come racing across the lawn, giggling and hushing each other. They take refuge under a tree, revealing their faces to the moonlight: Victor and Elizabeth. She leans against the trunk to catch her breath. ELIZABETH Smell the air. Wonderful. VICTOR Quite a send-off, isn't it? ELIZABETH Father's so proud. VICTOR And you? ELIZABETH Prouder still. You'll be the handsomest student there. VICTOR I'll have to do better than that. (CONTINUED) 20 ELIZABETH You will. (searches his eyes) What do you want, Victor? VICTOR To be the best there ever was. To push our knowledge beyond our dreams ... to eradicate disease and pestilence ... to purge mankind of ignorance and fear ... He's so serious, she can't help laugh. VICTOR I'm not mad. She smiles, smoothes a lock of hair gently off his forehead. ELIZABETH No. Just very earnest. And very dear. An extended moment. Unspoken words flowing between them. Victor leans forward and kisses her. Her eyes widen slightly. So do his. Shared excitement, gentle and sexy beyond belief. They pause, draw back, searching each other's eyes. He whispers: VICTOR I've loved you all my life ELIZABETH All my life live known. They kiss again. A breath. A shiver. VICTOR This feels ... incestuous. ELIZABETH is that what makes it so delicious? She brushes her lips against his. Gentle as a sigh. ELIZABETH Brother and sister still? VICTOR I wish to be your husband. ELIZABETH I wish to be your wife. (CONTINUED) 21 VICTOR Then come with me to Ingolstadt. Marry me now. ELIZABETH If only I could. But one of us must stay. Father's not strong. Willie's just a child. Who can look after them in your absence? Who can run the estate? VICTOR Only you ELIZABETH I will be here when you return, Another kiss. Turning lustful and steamy. They melt into each other, sinking down, bodies pressing and minds afire. These people are hot for each other. They stop, stunned at the intensity. He lays his head to her breast. Their fingers clasp. She whispers her secret: ELIZABETH My head is spinning. I want to give myself to you. He raises his head. She meets his gaze evenly ELIZABETH If we're to be married, must we wait? He touches her face. Fingertips tracing downward, gentle and reverent, brushing the contours of her bosom at the edge of her bodice. She shivers. Closes her eyes. Lays her hand over his. Guiding his touch. VICTOR You make me weak. ELIZABETH Not as weak as I. She raises his hand to her mouth. Brushing his fingertips with her lips. Wrestling with desire. Their eyes meet. ELIZABETH Our decision. Together. VICTOR Your decision. For us, ELIZABETH (hesitates) I give you my soul ... (CONTINUED) 22 VICTOR (nods) ... until our wedding night. When our bodies will join. ELIZABETH Victor. I love you, VICTOR Elizabeth. My more than sister. They kiss again. Gently ... EXT - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - CEMETERY - DAWN A misty gray dawn. Victor is kneeling at a gravestone, observing a moment of silence. His saddled horse is tethered nearby. Softly: VICTOR I'll make you so proud, Mother. He lays a small sprig of flowers on the grave, rises and walks toward his horse. EXT - MANSION - MORNING Overcast and chill. An open carriage stands loaded. The family and household staff have turned out. Victor stands ready to go. Father pulls him into a back-slapping embrace. FATHER Write to us often. Victor moves on to Justine, takes her hand. VICTOR We never finished our dance. (she smiles) Someday we shall. Next is William. The little boy stands stiffly, tears on his face, trying to be brave. Victor kneels and whispers: VICTOR The others will look to you while I'm gone, Willie. Be strong. The boy nods miserably, throws his arms around Victor's neck. Last comes Elizabeth. She and Victor regard each other, sharing the secret of last night. A faint smile plays at the corners of her mouth. He kisses her cheek. VICTOR Elizabeth. (CONTINUED) 23 He mounts the carriage. CLAUDE snaps the reins and lurches away, speeding Victor off to his future. Victor turns back for a final look at the home and family he loves so much. William runs after him until he's gone from sight ... DISSOLVE TO: INGOLSTADT - ESTABLISHING ANGLES - DAY High white clouds in a blazing blue sky. Church steeples rising among the rooftops. Beautiful. BOARDING HOUSE - DAY FRAU BRACH trudges heavily up a long, steep, narrow flight of stairs with Victor teetering uneasily behind. FRAU BRACH No real rooms left. All we've got is attic space. No one ever wants the attic space ... ATTIC SPACE/GARRET - DAY She leads him into an immensely long space running a twisted path the entire length of the building; various levels and areas unhindered by wall separation, massive vaulted beams crisscrossing as understructure to the roof. Daylight filters dimly through dozens of dormer windows and skylights coated with grime. Nooks and crannies abound. VICTOR This will do nicely. UNIVERSITY - DAY A monumental structure of brick. A BELL TOWER TOLLS. Dead leaves scurry across the lawn. LECTURE HALL - DAY PROFESSOR KREMPE, a squat little man, paces before the packed galleries of eager young STUDENTS. KREMPE In science, the letter of fact is the letter of law. Our pursuit is as dogmatic as any religious precept. Think of yourselves as disciples of a strict and hallowed sect. Someday you may be priests ... but only if you learn the scripture chapter and verse. (off their laughter) Any questions? (CONTINUED) 24 VICTOR (hand shoots up) But surely, Professor, you don't intend we disregard the more ... philosophical works. KREMPE Philosophical? VICTOR Those which stir the imagination as well as the intellect. Paracelsus, for one. This reference is lost on all but a few. At the faculty table: PROFESSOR WALDMAN peers up at Victor, adjusting the glasses on his nose. Up among the students: HENRY CLERVAL leans out and shoots an amused look in Victor's direction. SCHILLER catches Henry's look and rolls his eyes. KREMPE Paracelsus? VICTOR Or Albertus Magnus. Cornelius Agrippa ... KREMPE What is your name? VICTOR Victor Frankenstein, sir. (no response) Of Geneva KREMPE Of Geneva. (beat) Tell me, Mr. Frankenstein of Geneva. Do you wish to study medicine? Or mysticism? Titters sweep the room. Krempe remains staunchly unamused: KREMPE Those of you unfamiliar with Mr. Frankenstein's suggested reading list ... thankfully, that would be most of you ... would be well advised to avoid it. Here at Ingolstadt, we concern ourselves with immutable reality... (specific to Victor) ...not the ravings of lunatics and alchemists hundreds of years in their graves. Understood? (CONTINUED) 25 Victor is flushed and humiliated. Held like to say more, but wisely swallows his anger and nods. KREMPE I am relieved. Are there any relevant questions? (there are none) Lecture hall dismissed. EXT - UNIVERSITY - DAY Victor exits wearing a distinctive black greatcoat, fuming over the exchange with Krempe. He strides across the lawn, eyes fixed straight ahead. Henry Clerval races up behind him and falls casually in step. Victor glances over. Henry nods pleasantly, as if held been there all along. Victor responds with a curt nod and resumes his straight-ahead demeanor. They walk in silence, just two guys heading in the same direction. Henry can't help it; he snickers loudly to himself. Victor shoots him a sharp look. Henry's smirk vanishes, replaced with blank innocence. Did somebody snicker? HENRY I was just clearing my throat. VICTOR Very well then. They continue walking. Silence thick. Finally: HENRY You know, you're quite mad. Victor stops. Turns VICTOR (low, measured) I am not mad. HENRY (matching Victor's tone) As a march hare. Henry's expression betrays nothing ... but perhaps there's a trace of amusement in his eyes? VICTOR Are you having me on? HENRY Of course I am. It pays to humor the insane. (CONTINUED) 26 Beat. Victor smiles. Henry grins, offers his hand. takes it. HENRY Henry Clerval. VICTOR Victor, Victor Frankenstein. HENRY I know. You have a way of making an impression. INT - GASTHOF - DUSK The tavern is packed with students and noise. Beer and food served at a frantic pace. We find Victor and Henry at a small table, tearing into sausages and cheese. VICTOR Do you really think I'm mad? HENRY Come now. Magnus? Agrippa? Next thing you know, you'll be teaching toadstools to speak. Schiller enters with FRIENDS. They pause at Victor's table SCHILLER if it isn't the sorcerer. Found yourself an apprentice? VICTOR I'm afraid I rejected his application. He merely dabbles HENRY Dilettantes need not apply. What about you? Schiller, isn't it? SCHILLER Von Schiller. I'm interested in real medicine. Treating the sick HENRY Really? I myself find sick people rather revolting. (off their looks) I'm here to secure my degree with a minimum of fuss and hard work that I might settle into a life of privilege treating rich old ladies with gout and dallying with their daughters. (CONTINUED) 27 SCHILLER You two disgust me. Schiller and his friends stalk off. EXT - INGOLSTADT - DUSK LONG LENS magnificently compresses buildings and steeples, distant hills and drizzly sky. Victor wears his greatcoat as he and Henry walk along a twisty cobblestone street. VICTOR Rich old ladies and their daughters? HENRY Can you think of a better reason? VICTOR Quite a few. HENRY Do me a favor then ... (claps his shoulder) ... keep them to yourself. Victor takes a shocked beat and bursts into laughter, INT - AUTOPSY ROOM - DAY Waldman, in sinock, addresses a GROUP OF STUDENTS from across morgue slab. He throws a sheet back to reveal a corpse dissected to reveal the inner workings. The others crowd for a closer look. Victor glances to Henry, who leans back and rolls his eyes in utter disgust. INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY PUSHING SLOWLY IN on Victor sitting at a tall dormer window, writing a letter with quill and ink. It's raining outside. The garret is tidied. EXT - RYE FIELDS - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - LATE DAY WORKERS are harvesting for miles around. PAN to Elizabeth and Claude examining the sheaves on a wagon. She cracks the grain and tastes it, glances to Claude. He smiles and nods. CLAUDE It's turning out to be a good year. ELIZABETH Let's return a tenth of the crop to the tenants. (off his look) They had a hard winter. (CONTINUED) 28 CLAUDE Not even your father would be that generous. ELIZABETH Then there's no need to tell him, is there? Claude grins and motions to his MEN. They resume loading the sheaves as a STABLEBOY rides up: STABLEBOY Miss! The mail arrived! There's one from Master Victor! INT - FRANKENSTEIN PARLOR - NIGHT We find the family gathered around the fire as Elizabeth reads Victor's letter aloud: ELIZABETH ... and not a day goes by that I do not cherish your faces in my mind's eye or ache to see you all again. Be assured that I am with you in spirit, and you are never far from my thoughts. I remain, as always, your loving and devoted Victor. P.S. She pauses, reading ahead. INSERT OF LETTER The P.S. reads: "Elizabeth ... I am holding our vow precious in my heart." ELIZABETH glances up at their expectant faces. WILLIE What does it say? ELIZABETH It says, give Willie an extra big hug for me. WILLIAM (beaming) Read it again? She smiles, rearranges the pages as we FADE TO: 29 INT - UNIVERSITY HALLWAY - DAY A classroom door. SHOUTING from within: VICTOR (O.S.) That's no excuse for being a pompous ass! Victor storms out with Krempe at his heels. Krempe pauses in the doorway, red-faced, bellowing after him: KREMPE I'll see you thrown out of this university! I'll go to the dean himself! Take me at my word, Frankenstein! The dean himself! Classroom doors are opening, faces peering out. Waldman among them. Victor keeps going, doesn't look back. INT - GASTHOF - NIGHT Victor and Henry slouched at their regular table writes in his thick, well-worn leather journal. HENRY The entire school heard it. It wasn't something one could miss. VICTOR You're a comfort to me, Henry. HENRY What now? Writing about it in your journal won't help. VICTOR (quietly) It's a letter to my father. Henry falls silent. Victor closes the journal, winds it secure with its leather thong, jams it deep in the outer pocket of his greatcoat. Brooding. The bell above the door JINGLES. A gust of wind sweeps in. They glance up. Professor Waldman enters, dapper and soft- spoken, impeccably courteous. He murmurs a pleasantry to the INNKEEPER and drifts over to Victor's table. VICTOR Professor Waldman. WALDMAN (takes a seat) Victor, explain yourself. (CONTINUED) 30 VICTOR Krempe has a way of provoking my temper. WALDMAN You have a way of provoking his. (beat) I've been watching you. You seem impatient with your studies. VICTOR To say the least. I came here to expand my mind, but honest inquiry seems strangled at every turn. All we do is cling to the old knowledge instead of seeking the new. WALDMAN You disdain accepted wisdom? VICTOR No, I embrace it ... as something to be used or discarded as we advance the boundaries of what is known. HENRY (mutters to Waldman) Now you've got him started. VICTOR These are exciting times, Henry. We're entering an era of amazing breakthroughs. Look at Edward Jenner. He wasn't content to bleed people with leeches, he pioneered a new frontier of thought HENRY ... yes, and thanks to him, smallpox has been virtually eliminated. I've heard this speech before. VICTOR But you haven't listened, Never in history has so much seemed possible. We're on the verge of answers undreamt of ... but only if we have the courage to ask the questions, WALDMAN I understand your frustration. I was young once myself. (beat) Walk me home. Something I'd like to show you. (CONTINUED) 31 INT - WALDMAN'S HOME - WORKSHOP - NIGHT The gaslights come up with a SOFT HISS. The first thing Victor and Henry notice is an artist's nook situated adjacent to big windows where the light would be best during the day. Easels are lined with in-progress work on a variety of subjects, everything from landscapes to anatomical studies, all quite excellent. The rest of the place is a laboratory crammed floor-to- rafter with arcane equipment. Taking off his coat and rolling up his sleeves, Waldman leads Victor and Henry down rows of tables crammed with experiments and clutter. WALDMAN You know for thousands of years the Chinese have based their medical science on the belief that the human body is a chemical engine run by electricity? They say we all contain streams of energy which flow through us like currents in the ocean, or rivers in the earth. They arrive at a table. Waldman roots through a tray of knickknacks, holds up an acupuncture needle. WALDMAN Their doctors treat patients by inserting needles like these into the flesh at various key points to manipulate these electric streams. He directs their attention to an ancient Chinese silk on the wall. It depicts the human body from front and side angles. Acupuncture points are clearly marked. VICTOR Preposterous. WALDMAN I once saw it done, as a boy in Canton. My parents were missionaries. The cure was nothing short of miraculous. (off their looks) I've never forgotten it. Been fascinated ever since. HENRY It smacks of magic. Waldman slides forth a steel pan and uncovers it to reveal an enormous dead toad in dissection. Copper mounting pins trail wires to a small panel of switches. The switches, in turn, are connected to a series of galvanic batteries. (CONTINUED) 32 Waldman starts throwing switches. Victor and Henry jump as the toad convulses with motion. They watch, stunned, as Waldman puts the toad through its paces: legs kick, feet flex, mouth opens and closes, lungs breathe. WALDMAN Magic. seems alive, doesn't it? Waldman shuts the thing down, strips off his gloves, his arm at the array of wires and batteries. WALDMAN Electricity. VICTOR It's utterly fantastic! This is the sort of thing I'm talking about! We should be learning this! WALDMAN Why? God alone knows what it means. Until it has proven value, it's nothing more than a ghoulish parlor trick. Hardly fit for the classroom. VICTOR But the possibilities Combining ancient knowledge with new? Something like this could change our fundamental views! WALDMAN It is a thrilling direction to explore. Thrilling and dangerous. (off his look) Nature can be wonderful and terrible. Science is not a realm for the reckless; it needs a conscience. we must proceed cautiously. Assess as we go. (drapes the toad) What I do on my own time is my own business. The same holds true for you. You wish to expand your mind? Fine, do so. You can even join me here, if you like. But not at the expense of your normal studies. VICTOR I doubt that decision is still mine to make. WALDMAN (waves) Nonsense. Tonight you will draft an apology to Professor Krempe... (CONTINUED) 33 Victor starts to object, but Waldman overrides him with a stern gesture for silence. Listen. WALDMAN "...a sincere and heartfelt apology which you will then read aloud to him before the assembled student body and faculty. VICTOR Why? WALDMAN (draws close) our profession needs talent like yours. Destroy your career over an issue of pride? what a waste. Waldman hands him the acupuncture needle. A gift. Victor studies it, fascinated. WALDMAN Go home, Victor. Write the letter, INT - LECTURE HALL - DAY DOLLYING VICTOR IN A SWW 360: He stands before the students and faculty, reading his apology. VICTOR ... and I further wish to extend my sincerest regrets to Professor Krempe for my display. My behavior toward him was both rash and inexcusable Up in the gallery, Krempe nods grudgingly to himself. INT - FRANKENSTEIN MANSION - DUSK Exquisite silverware goes CLINKING SOFTLY onto polished wood as: ELIZABETH (O.S.) (laughing) I knew held get himself in trouble. TILT UP to reveal the expansive dinner table being set for guests. KITCHEN STAFF are to-ing and fro-ing. Elizabeth splits her attention between supervising and reading Victor's letter, while Justine busies herself with a flower arrangement. Willie gets underfoot. Father just sits. JUSTINE Must've been a terrible row. (CONTINUED) 34 ELIZABETH He was almost expelled for calling one of his professors a "pompous ... (glances to Willie) ... fellow.,, FATHER He always was opinionated. ELIZABETH (reads on, laughs) He set things right with a proper apology ... and now they've put him in charge of dissection lab! WILLIE What's that? FATHER That's where they cut things open and peer about inside. WILLIE Things? What sort of things? Father is about to press on with the gory details, but Elizabeth freezes him with a glance. ELIZABETH It's far too ghoulish for your young ears. The old man throws Willie a look. We'll talk later. ELIZABETH The point is, your brother is a brilliant student well on his way to becoming the finest-and most compassionate doctor ever ... INT - WALDMM'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT A DISSECTED DOG convulses through its electronically- induced paces. Kicking. Twitching. Tasting the air with its dead tongue. TILT UP to reveal Victor at the switch. Waldman leans close to observe. Softly: WALDMAN Re-configure the leads? VICTOR Numbers four and twelve directly into the nervous system? Waldman nods. WALDMAN Worth a try. (CONTINUED) 35 INT -.AUTOPSY ROOM - DAY With Waldman at his side and Henry providing the tools as needed, Victor instructs a freshman class in the internal workings of a dissected corpse. Professor Krempe observes from a distance. VICTOR ... and the medulla oblongata is the transition between the spinal cord and the two parts I've already named ... cerebrum and cerebellum. Any freshmen feeling queasy yet? (glances around, smiles) All of you, from the look of it. We'll resume your torture tomorrow. He waves them dismissed. They laugh and exit, relieved. Waldman squeezes Victor's elbow. Well done. Victor stiffens at Krempe's approach. KREMPE You seem to be adapting well to the approved curriculum. VICTOR Despite the lack of challenge. Krempe reddens, but says nothing. He gives Waldman a curt nod and walks off. WALDMAN Victor. He was trying to be gracious. VICTOR The strain was evident HENRY Come now, you must take some satisfaction. You've risen to the top of your class. A position of prominence and regard. Victor weighs this, glances at both of them, smiles. VICTOR What keeps me going are my friends. He throws his arm around Henry's neck, pulls him into an affectionate headlock. Henry struggles and laughs: HENRY Leave off! (CONTINUED) 36 JEWELER'S SHOP - DAY Victor is gazing with reverence at a gorgeous oval locket dangled before him by a smiling JEWELER. He glances to Henry for an opinion. HENRY Your Elizabeth must be quite a treasure, Victor (pointedly to jeweler) ... to justify these prices. The jeweler's smile goes frosty. WALDMAN'S WORKSHOP - DAY TIGHT ANGLE ON the locket lying open against canvas, dangling from an easel frame. TILT DOWN to reveal a magnificent miniature oil portrait of Victor in progress, no more than three inches high within its penciled oval. Waldman paints with an extraordinarily delicate touch, jeweler's glasses riding low on his nose, eyes unnaturally large behind the magnifying lenses. Victor sits patiently for the portrait, suffused with daylight. Henry leans in over Waldman's shoulder, studying the portrait. Waldman stiffens a bit, aware of his presence. He clearly hates people looking over his shoulder. HENRY (deadpan) Shouldn't the nose be above the mouth? Waldman heaves a long-suffering sigh. He abruptly jabs his brush at Henry's nose, daubing it with paint. Dignity upheld he resumes his careful work as Victor laughs. INT - WALDMAN'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT Victor, Waldman, and Henry are gathered around the remains of a meal, laughing uproariously, enjoying one another's company. Cigars are lit, wine is flowing. Conversation is fast and loose, intense and passionate: WALDMAN I'm quite serious. Look at all the charity and clinic work we do. Up until thirty years ago, the concept of vaccine was unheard of. HENRY You're saying all disease will eventually be eradicated? (CONTINUED) 37 WALDMAN I'm convinced. Not by treating symptoms, but by diving nature's most jealously-guarded secrets. HENRY (turning serious) Do you foresee this happening in our lifetimes? WALDMAN No. But someday. HENRY Thank goodness. We'd be out of work A HOWL OF OUTRAGE AND LAUGHTER. Victor flings his napkin in Henry's face. VICTOR Only you would think of that! HENRY (laughing) Somebody has to! Victor raises his wine glass. The others join. A toast. VICTOR I tell you what we need, my friends. Forget the symptoms and diseases. What we need is a vaccine for death itself. WALDMAN (laughter) Oh, now you have gone too far, There's only one God, Victor. HENRY (raises his glass) And here's to Him. Everything in moderation, Frankenstein. VICTOR (grins) Nothing in moderation, Clerval. INT - POOR HOUSE - DAY CAMERA, TRACKS the gritty reality of a big-city poor house, crammed with society's dregs: the poor, the uneducated, wailing babies, stampeding children. Absolutely jangling with noise and confusion ... loud and stifling ... people getting eye-ear-nose-throat exams ... being vaccinated ... (CONTINUED) 38 The "doctors" in attendance are all Ingolstadt STUDENTS performing community service, none of whom look like they're enjoying it. Schiller looks particularly harried We find Victor and Henry giving out vaccinations. They keep glancing over their shoulders at Waldman as he gets further embroiled in a no-win argument with a wiry, ferret-faced MAN terrified about getting his vaccination: MAN Yer not stickin' it in me! Got pox in it, I hear tell! FAT WOMAN Pox? They givin' us pox? Ripples of panic spread. Waldman is as tense and clipped as we've ever seen him, valiantly trying to control his temper amidst the surrounding cacophony and ad-lib dialogue: WALDMAN No, it's not pox, it's a vaccine ... FAT WOMAN Vaca-what? WALDMAN ... vaccine, from the Latin vacca, meaning cow (glances at her girth) ... or vaccinia, meaning cowpox ... MAN I told you there was pox in it I WALDMAN ... no, no, cowpox in a minute quantity, perfectly harmless, gives you a natural immunity to small ox, which is the point of this whole bloody exercise ... Victor and Henry are pausing work. Concerned. Drifting closer. The ferret-faced man is cornered. MAN You doctors kill people! I don' care what you say, you ain't stickin' it in me! WALDMAN I most assuredly am! It prevents disease and it's the law! Why am I explaining myself? Somebody restrain this damn fool! (CONTINUED) 39 It happens this fast: There's an innocuous blur of motion as the man seems to tap Waldman lightly in the stomach, then he darts away, slamming past Victor and Henry. Victor looks after him running away, hears something clatter to the floor. He glances down. A thin knife. Victor looks to Waldman. Puzzled. It still hasn't really dawned. Waldman turns to them, face drained of color, hand pressed to his sternum, lips tight. He looks more annoyed than anything else. He exhales slowly. HENRY Professor? WALDMAN (softly) Oh God That's when the blood starts pumping through his fingers. They catch him as he collapses, cradling him as he sprawls to the floor. People are pushing and crowding to see. EXT - POOR HOUSE - DAY A cobblestoned street-scene. carriage. A delivery wagon. Vendors. Pedestrians. The doors of the poor house burst open, releasing a frenzy into the street: Victor and Henry carrying Waldman by his arms and legs, all the students running alongside, some of them weeping with panic, the crowd at their heels still trying to catch a glimpse, pedestrians scattering, the students dwindling up the long winding street, bearing their professor toward the school, shouting for help... INT - UNIVERSITY CHAPEL - DAY Krempe delivers the eulogy before the open casket. The chapel is full. Victor is seated near the back. Dazed. Henry comes up the aisle and slides in next to him. Victor doesn't even glance over. Henry whispers: HENRY They just caught the man who did it. VICTOR He was a frightened soul who acted out of fear and ignorance. HENRY They'll hang him all the same. VICTOR Good. I'll be there to hear his worthless neck snap. (CONTINUED) 40 People glance back. Henry lays his hand on Victor's elbow. HENRY Keep your voice down. You don't know what you're saying. VICTOR It was wrong, Henry! It shouldn't have happened! The bastard deserves to die. Victor is causing ripples of attention throughout the chapel. Even Krempe falters briefly in his eulogy. Henry pulls Victor from the pew, drags him up the aisle ... INT - CONFESSION BOOTH - DAY ... and into the confessional where they launch at each other in harsh whispers. Dialogue here is overlapping and intense: HENRY You're making a scene! VICTOR Why Waldman? He of all people should have cheated death! HENRY You can't. Death is God's will! VICTOR I resent God's monopoly HENRY That's blasphemy! VICTOR Blasphemy be damned! Waldman spent his life trying to help people! HENRY All the more reason for us to continue his work with the poor! VICTOR (beat, low) No. He had more important work. HENRY There are sick people who need our help. Here and now. Not in some future time. Consider that. (CONTINUED) 41 Henry exits. Victor tries to compose himself, clasping his hands together as if in prayer ... or quiet rage. He gazes up. There on the wall hangs a crucifix. VICTOR Life and death. (beat) Why should You alone have the final say? VICTOR"S POV PUSHING SLOWLY IN on the Christ figure before him, bleeding from a crown of thorns, arms thrown wide. DISSOLVE TO: DA VINCI'S STUDY OF MAM rises from the image of Christ, striking an eerily similar pose, arms thrown wide within the perfect circle. We hear a DOOR BEING UNLOCKED as ... INT - WALDMAN"S WORKSHOP - DAY ... a WIDER ANGLE reveals the deserted workshop. the door swings open as MARIE lets himself in. He sees the finished locket lying open on a table, picks it up, studies the beautiful miniature portrait it contains. Snaps it shut. He looks up, eyes falling upon the Da Vinci print hanging on the wall. He stares. Intense. INT - WALDMAN'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT TRACKING SHOT: Things are in the process of being sorted and boxed. We find Victor poring over Waldman's notes: VICTOR To understand the causes of life, we must first have recourse to death ... and examine the process in minutest detail ... EXT - TOWN SQUARE - DAY A gray day. Waldman's ferret-faced MURDERER stands weeping helplessly on the scaffold as sentence is read: MAGISTRATE ... his body to be left on public display for a twenty-four hour period, thereafter to be consigned to an unmarked pauper's grave. So the court has spoken. (CONTINUED) 42 The EXECUTIONER draws the hood over the murderer's head, cinches the noose tight. The condemned man is blubbering, pleading for his life. Victor stands in the crowd. 'Watching. Waiting. we hear the THUMP of the body dropping, the CRADK of a snapping neck.. EXT - TOWN SQUARE - NIGHT Dark as Hades. Pissing down rain. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING and a CRASH OF THUNDER. The dead man still hangs from the scaffold, lashed by the wind. Victor looms from the storm, hands jammed in the pocket of his greatcoat. He pulls out a thin, glittering blade. The very weapon which took Waldman's life. He gazes up at the dead man ... at the rope from which he dangles ... INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT The dead murderer lies pale and naked on a slab. Victor leans close, still dripping, studying the face closely. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING throws wild Littering shadows through the dormer windows and skylights. Softly: VICTOR No longer pathetic and useless INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY The dead man, dissected and wired, jerks bolt upright, flopping and convulsing, eyes opening and closing, mouth gaping open and shut. He falls back limply as Victor shuts the power off, making careful notations in his journal. INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY TRACKING the dissection table ... up the length of the murderer's body ... now in an advanced stage of decay ... we hear the SOFT BUZZING of flies ... We find Victor standing over the corpse. Gaunt and hollow- eyed. Exhausted and obsessed. Wearing a butcher's apron. Staring down at one of the dead man's forearms. Maggots are swarming in the flesh. He abruptly raises a cleaver and WHACKS it off at the elbow. INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT TRACKING SLOWLY past the forearm lying in a steel pan, we find Victor performing an intense chemical analysis. Dead tissues are breaking apart in solvents, distilled over a slow-burning flame. Victor smears a glass slide, places it under a microscope. (CONTINUED) 43 INT - GASTHOF - DAY Victor is hunched over his notebook, pale and unhealthy, scribbling notations next to a rendering of the human form. Henry is across from him: HENRY Victor. This has got to stop. (Victor glances up) Nobody's seen you in months. You haven't attended a single class. VICTOR I've been preoccupied. HENRY We all know how hard you took Waldman's death. Even Krempe is sympathetic. But it is time to move on. It is time to concern yourself with life. VICTOR That is my concern. (faint smile) I'm involved in something just now. I want to finish it in Waldman's memory. HENRY How much longer? VICTOR Few months perhaps. I'm gathering the raw materials even now. EXT - GRAVEYARD - NIGHT The wrought-iron doors of a crypt have been forced open. CAMERA PUSHES through to find Victor standing inside over a stone sarcophagus with a pry bar in his hands. He's nervous, working up his courage: VICTOR Materials. That's all they are Tissue to be re- used. He pries off the stone lid. It THUMPS heavily to the floor, cracking in half. He opens the casket, reaches in, raises the pale arm of the deceased to inspect it. EXT - GRAVEYARD - NIGHT Stone monuments. Bare trees. Ivy-covered ground. Victor shoulder-deep in a grave. Shoveling. A lamp burns low. (CONTINUED) 44 COFFIN - NIGHT Pitch black. The lid swings open, cascading dust and soil. Victor peers down, holding the kerosene lamp high. VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT TRACKING ALONG the shelves, crammed now with formaldehyde jars of feet and hands, brains and kidneys, the occasional head staring through the glass, dead cats ... ... and we find Victor working into the wee hours. Hunched over his specimens. Candle flame flickering low. Referring back to Waldman's notes. Making notations in arcane books such as "De Occulta Philosophia," by Agrippa, and "Le Sciences et les arts D'alchimiste," by Paracelsus. FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - LATE DAY A magnificent backdrop of mountains against a cloudless blue sky. TILT DOWN to Elizabeth and Justine with the mansion distant. A steady breeze ripples the fields as Elizabeth regards a stack of mail. ELIZABETH Nothing. Still nothing. JUSTINE It's been months. It's not like him. ELIZABETH Something's wrong. I know it. (off her look) I've heard rumors of cholera spreading south from Hamburg. JUSTINE So have I ELIZABETH I should go. I should leave today. JUSTINE Elizabeth. If it's true, travel into Germany would be banned. You'd never get near Ingolstadt. (beat) Besides, they're only rumors. ELIZABETH (beat, nods) And not a word of them to Father. He's agitated enough not hearing from Victor. (CONTINUED) 45 JUSTINE Read him one of the old letters and rephrase it. We'll say it came today. It'll set his mind at ease. Elizabeth gives her a hug. They walk toward the mansion INT - BLACKSMITH SHOP - DAY Murky and dark. Bellows are pumping. Showers of sparks cascade. The BLACKSMITH and his ASSISTANT are pounding a metallic sledgehammer litany, beating a huge copper sheet into shape. Victor enters. The blacksmith directs his attention to a finished copper piece leaning against the wall. Victor runs his hand over the surface. Nice. INT - MATERNITY WARD - CHARITY HOSPITAL - NIGHT A WOMAN lies on a table, screaming as she goes into labor. Her water breaks, cascading into a steel bucket. one of the ASSISTANTS snatches it up, scurries around the corner. Victor is waiting in the shadows. Money changes hands. INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT Victor is examining the amniotic fluid. Boiling it off. Working to synthesize it. INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT Victor pours the final drum of fluid into what appears to be a large copper vat. He dips his hand in, examines the consistency and smell. ANGLE WIDENS, spinning slowly up to reveal that the vat is human in shape. A sarcophagus. EXT - ALLEY - NIGHT We find Victor examining three corpses on the back of a wagon, checking nostrils and teeth with gloved hands. A PAIR OF MEN lurk in the shadows, waiting. VICTOR That one The corpse is lifted off. Money changes hands. MAN With this cholera come to town, we'll have plenty more for you. INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT Victor wearing elbow-length gloves, hacking furiously away with a bone saw. Tossing aside the scraps. (CONTINUED) 46 VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT Victor has an arm wired, testing reactions. He scrapes off a small shred of tissue, drops it in solution, watches it break apart. it doesn't look good. He glances feverishly at the clock, makes a fast decision, scribbles in his journal: VICTOR Not optimal. Must use. No time to replace. Body can't wait. VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT Victor stitches a torso with one of those big, awful curved needles, yanking up hard to draw the catgut tight. ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.) I stitched it together with my own hands ... VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT Victor pulls on a chain, hoisting the body off the slab via block-and-tackle mounted on a ceiling track. The body rises limply into the air, spinning slowly, arms and legs dangling, long black hair covering its face. ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.) a patchwork man of my own devising. Victor reaches up with one hand to stop the body spinning. He pushes it down the length of the lab, rolling it along its ceiling track like a side of beef in a meat locker. INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT The Creature lies on an improvised bier of crates, surrounded by shadows and clutter, draped/sprawled like Christ taken from the cross in Michelangelo's "Pieta." Beakers bubbling and dripping. Intravenous lines seeping and secreting. A misty chemical haze in the air. Victor is watching his patchwork man. Glowering. Waiting. ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.) It took nutrients like a child receiving milk ... blushed like a young girl with the blood I forced through its veins ... A FLASH OF LIGHTNING rips through the skylights, bathing the scene purple/white. Eerier and eerier. ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.) ... all in preparation. (CONTINUED) 47 VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY We find Victor passed out in a chair. His creation is still taking fluids. Gray daylight streams through the windows. There's commotion in the street outside: shouting, horses' hooves clattering on cobblestone, an occasional scream or wail. Victor doesn't stir. Dead to the world. Somebody starts POUNDING on the door. Victor rouses, takes a moment to remember where he is. He lurches from his chair, grabs a canvas tarp, throws it over his "patchwork man." STAIRWELL - DAY Henry is pounding. Finally the latch is drawn. The door swings open a crack. Victor peers out. Gaunt and furtive. Suspicious. Henry is stunned at his dissipated appearance. HENRY God's sake, what is that stench? Henry peers past him. Victor shifts, blocking his view VICTOR This is a bad time, Henry. I'm busy just now. What do you want? HENRY Things have gone worse with this cholera outbreak. Thousand new cases a day now. Classes have been suspended. University's shut down. VICTOR Yes? And? HENRY Listen to what I'm saying. The militia's arriving to quarantine the city. Most of us are getting out while we still can. VICTOR You'll be leaving then. (beat) Just as well. You never were cut out for this, Henry. Goodbye. And the door slams shut. The bolt is thrown. Henry pounds. HENRY VICTOR! OPEN THE DOOR! LISTEN TO REASON! (CONTINUED) 48 Nothing. Stunned and hurt' Henry turns from the door and heads back down the stairs. EXT - VICTOR'S BUILDING - STREET - DAY Henry exits into a nightmare. REFUGEES are streaming from the city, horses and wagons, people on foot, carrying their possessions. Henry steps into the street and is nearly run down by a carriage. VOICE (O.S.) OUT OF THE WAY! Henry glances up to see Schiller at the reins, struggling to control the animals as the carriage eases past. HENRY Schiller? You're leaving? Where's all that high talk about treating the sick? SCHILLER (icy) To hell with them. And you. He snaps the reins, not caring who he runs down. The carriage lurches away, scattering refugees before it. Henry keeps walking. Jostled by the hostile crowd. Looking around. Dazed. Dead bodies are stacked along the street like cordwood, waiting for the death carts. ANGLE WIDENS as Henry stumbles along through utter despair and devastation, stunned at the human suffering around him as we FADE TO: INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT Victor glances at the clock. Scribbles in his journal: VICTOR Time running out. Rate of decay accelerating. Must strike now ... or start again from scratch. He gazes down at his creation, lying once again on the slab before him ... but now the Creature lies on a full body- length steel grate. Steel chains with hooks dangle from the ceiling above ... along with long coils of thick copper wire tipped with glittering needles big enough to knit with. Victor glances up at the Da Vinci. The Study of Man has been daubed with red paint at key acupuncture points. Victor dips a huge cotton swab in a bowl of iodine, starts dabbing identical marks on the body before him ... (CONTINUED) 49 Now he's ramming the huge wire-fed needles deep into these spots, brutally working them around in the flesh to get good contact. The forearms, the neck, the rib cage ... Now he's attaching the steel chain-hooks to the four corners of the steel grate ... Now he's pulling on a rope, straining to hoist the whole rig into the air. It lifts slowly from frame: body, needles, wires and all ... HIGH WIDE ANGLE ... and we get our first spectacular look at Frankenstein's gloriously low-tech and stupendously arcane 2LicU the Creature dangles below us from the ceiling-hoist, lying full-length and horizontal on its steel grate, spinning slowly, thick copper wires trailing from its arms and legs, rib cage and neck, armpits and groin. The copper cables trail upward, coil along the ceiling like garden hose to provide necessary slack, meander down the wall to culminate in a splendiferous array of galvanic batteries, steam engines and generators. Frankenstein reaches slowly up, fingertips straining toward the ceiling as if worshipping the creation revolving endlessly above his head in a perfectly-described circle not at all unlike the Da Vinci ... .And he grabs the lever on the platform and pulls to start it spinning, with a mighty heave, he sets the whole thing gliding in motion, CAMERA TRACKING FASTER AND FASTER as he rolls it along the ceiling track through the lab, passing table after table of desiccated leftovers and discarded scraps, LIGHTNING BLAZING through the windows to mark his way with wild and sinister shadows ... ... and he yanks the platform to a stop over the copper sarcophagus. Amniotic fluid steaming and murky within. He positions the platform, unties the rope, lowers the Creature down and down, lower and lower, sinking into the vat, the steel grate a perfect fit in size and shape. Faster now, moving furiously. Reaching into the murk, unhooking the chains. Arraying the copper wire through air- tight guide holes. Spinning on his heels and reaching up, grabbing hold of the upper shell of the sarcophagus also suspended from the ceiling, stunningly heavy, gleaming with reflections and secrets. CAMERA ROCKETS DOWN on Victor as he swings the upper shell into position, lowers it into place with a THUD-CLANK! Working the wing-nuts on the bolts, spinning frantically, tightening them down, sealing the sarcophagus air-tight. Faster now. Faster. (CONTINUED) 50 The frenzy builds and the CAMERA GOES WILD, rocketing, zooming, gliding, spinning the audience on its ear: Frankenstein. Turning up the heat on the burners. Cooking the copper from below. Double double, toil and trouble. Frankenstein. Gazing through the thick glass portholes checking on his creation drifting in the murk. Frankenstein. Whipping up the galvanic batteries, supercharging them with steam generators. Watching as they send voltage humming and throbbing through the copper cables along the ceiling beams. Building up a charge. Frankenstein. Gazing at his gleaming handiwork. LIGHTNING painting his features into a twisted mask. Hand on the switch. Ready to rev it up and throw the throttle. Over it goes. WHAM! Overdrive. The body convulses violently in its copper womb as the first jolt of electricity hits. THUNX-THUNK-THUNK! Blazing with energy and arcane light, fingers of light throbbing through the portholes, sparkling, glittering, seeking. Frankenstein races to the sarcophagus. A long glass tube, two feet in diameter and ribbed with steel, gets lowered on a boom and rammed into a hole, collate spun tight, inner dam wrenched out like a Polaroid plate. He reaches up and grabs holds of a pull-chain, fingers going knuckle-white on the wooden handle. one hard yank. A dump- tank is released, murky water cascading down the glass tube. And here's the final perversion, the ultimate icing on this twisted cake: the copper sarcophagus is literally a womb, with the giant glass tube serving as a massive gleaming phallus down which come pouring dozens of electric eels, wriggling and streaming like huge black sperm ... EEL POV (IN THE TUBE) ... rocketing down the tube, slithering and squirming, faster and faster, racing into the sarcophagus, seeking out the creation in the murky womb-fluid, lashing at the hapless gray flesh, zapping it again with high-intensity voltage. the Creature convulsing, thrashing, jerking from side to side, raising its head against the top, mouth gaping open and shut, jaws snapping with electrical surges. Frankenstein's face appears at the porthole, peering in, watching his dark seed fertilize his unholy child. VICTOR (muffled through the glass) Live, you bastard! (CONTINUED) 51 A huge bony hand slaps against the porthole, fingers clawing and spasming against the glass. FRANKENSTEIN jerks his head back, stunned. The fingers are scratching. He turns, runs to the electrical rig, shutting the whole thing down. It cycles off, whining into silence INSIDE THE SARCOPHAGUS ... and the body relaxes, shutting down with it, going limp and lifeless in the murk, spasms trailing off. FRANKENSTEIN stares at the sarcophagus. Realizing his creation has stopped moving. Nothing now. He sags to his knees, utterly devastated at the loss of his dream. Nothing. It was all for nothing ... INSIDE THE SARCOPHAGUS ... And The Creature opens its dim yellow eyes, Aware. Its mouth goes wide, teeth bared in a silent scream as it tries to breathe and finds nothing in its lungs but fluid. FRANKENSTEIN is wrapped in his despair, face cradled in his hands. A SOFT TAP. He glances over his fingers. Thinking he imagined it. No. There's another tap. And another. We see it in his eyes. Sheer joy and stunned exultation. Triumph and wonder unbelievably sublime. A bare whisper: VICTOR It's alive. It's alive. And then hell breaks loose: Massive convulsions wrack the sarcophagus, damn near shaking it off its cradle. THUMP- THUMP-THUMPI Pounding from within. Head ramming against the inner lid. He races over, frantic, fingers fumbling on the wing-nuts, spinning them loose, trying to free the drowning man within. He unscrews the final bolt, reaches for the rope to hoist the lid away ... ... and the lid launches itself across the room, propelled from below with rocket-booster force. The massive copper shell goes hurtling/spinning/cartwheeling across the lab, demolishing an amazing array of equipment in its path, and thunders massively off the wall in an explosion of masonry and splintering coat rack. Victor's greatcoat goes flying. (CONTINUED) 52 Silence. Frankenstein is frozen. Staring at the roiling surface of the amniotic fluid as it settles. An eternity passes in the space of a heartbeat. The Creature erupts from the vat like a vision from Hell, thrashing and gagging. murky fluid cascading in all directions-, The Creature seizes Victor by the shirtfront, trying to pull itself from the vat, slipping and sliding like an epileptic in a bathtub full of oil, damn near dragging Victor in, eels leaping and frothing and crackling with electricity. Victor screaming, trying to pull away, trying to break the Creature's grip ... ... and the whole thing tips over. Victor reels back, falling as the vat SLAMS to the ground, cascading its murky contents,, washing the Creature limply across the floor like a body tossed from the ocean, eels flipping and flopping, snapping electrical discharges into the air. Victor scrambles back, slipping and sliding on the amniotic muck, desperately jerking his legs away. He finds his traction and scrambles to his feet. The Creature is grasping and crawling toward him. Flopping and jerking. Gripped by seizures and convulsions. Vomiting murky liquid as his lungs heave grotesquely to dispel the fluid. Swiping the air with palsied hands. Malfunctional. VICTOR stands dripping fluid and goo, chest heaving, staring down at the Creature, not quite able to believe he was midwife to this ghastly birth. Softly: VICTOR What have I done? The Creature lunges to its knees, grasping him, clutching his clothes, pawing him. VICTOR LET GO OF-ME! Victor can't break free. Panicking. He snatches a hammer from a nearby table and brings it down on the Creature's head. THUD! Again and again. Beating the thing down, pounding it into submission. The Creature finally collapses, sliding down Victor's legs, curling up like a fetus, twitching and jerking in its own afterbirth. Silence now. A ghastly tableau: Victor stands in the middle of his ruined lab with his creation moaning and twitching at his feet in a dying heap. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING silently bathes the room, jerking wild shadows across the walls. (CONTINUED) 53 Victor steps over the Creature. Dazed. He drops the hammer. It clatters to the floor. He stops to jot a final entry: VICTOR Massive birth defects. Result is malfunctional and vile. (beat) Have chosen to abort. He walks stiffly away, disappears into the bedroom ... INT... BEDROOM - NIGHT...... ... where He staggers to the canopied bed, beyond exhausted, and collapses face-down into oblivion. Weeping. FADE TO: INT - VICTOR'S BEDROOM - NIGHT The wee hours. Rain pattering desolately on the roof. Victor sleeping. Wrestling with troubled dreams. Through a crack in the bed curtains, we see the bedroom door slowly creak open, throwing a twisted spill of light. A shadow appears. Entering. Shambling and gliding across the floor. Silent and furtive. Creeping toward the bed. PUSHING SLOWLY IN on Victor. Moving into close-up. Sleeping. Unaware. The shadow falls across his face Beat. His eyes fly open. An intake of breath. Paralyzed. Sensing the presence. Feeling the shadow. Working himself up to something. Perhaps a scream. He can stand it no longer, thrusts out his arm, jerks the curtain aside ... ... and the Creature is there, Looming like a specter of death. Naked. Beseeching. Dull yellow eyes trying to understand. 'The pilot''s wheal is now a crystalline sculpture of ice. The forward mast lies across the deck like a broken limb, extending out over the ice on a tangle of rigging...' lurches from bed, sends a nightstand and vase CRASHING to the floor. the Creature circles, seeking him, threatening to cut off his path to the door. VICTOR Stay away! He darts past the thing, careening out into the lab. The Creature whips around, unsteady for a moment, then follows him with surprising speed. INT - LAB - NIGHT Victor races through the lab with the Creature hobbling behind, trying to catch up. Victor hurling lab equipment, tipping shelves in its path, anything to slow it down. (CONTINUED) 54 Victor rips the door open, lunges through, slams it in the Creature's face. The Creature presses against the wood with pathetic little moans, begging not to be left alone. He sinks to the floor. Abandoned. Shivering with cold. Sees Victor's greatcoat where it fell. Grabs it. Drags it over. Shrouding himself. EXT - STREET - NIGHT Victor races into the downpour, soaked to the skin in seconds, mind racing. He needs a plan. He presses on. INT - SHOP - NIGHT Victor appears at the window. TILT DOWN to reveal an array of gleaming swords lying in their velvet display. Victor hurls a brick through the glass. Snatches up a sword. INT - VICTOR'S BUILDING - NIGHT Victor careens in from the storm, drenched, racing up the stairs, sword glittering in his grasp. He gets to the top of the stairs ... INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT ... only to discover the door torn off It's hinges. He enters, stunned. The thing is gone. EXT - STREET - NIGHT Victor races back into the storm. Searching. Slogging grimly on. Lashed by the wind and rain. Mocked by the lightning. He'll never give up. Not until he finds the thing and takes back the life he gave it. He dwindles from view, vanishing into the gale as we FADE TO: EXT - ALLY - MORNING Gray and drizzly. Heaps of wet garbage. Crawling rats. There's a shifting, heaving motion. The vermin scatter as the waking Creature peers at the world from beneath the greatcoat like a frightened child peering from under a blanket. Lost and confused. He scrabbles through the garbage for something to eat. He finds a rotted scrap, chews it anxiously. Ravenous. TWO FERAL DOGS appear, grizzled denizens of the city's gutters and back-alleys, peering with insolent eyes. Watching him eat. Assessing his potential as a threat. The Creature stares ingenuously back. Not knowing to be afraid. (CONTINUED) 55 The lead dog curls his lips back with a guttural SNARL. The Creature draws back sharply with a fearful MOAN. That's all it takes. The dogs are on him, snarling and snapping, the food torn from his hands. The dogs dart away, growling and fighting over the scrap. The Creature is left whimpering and shaken. He pushes to his feet and hurries in the opposite direction, legs bare and pale beneath the swirling greatcoat, clutching his collar against the cold. He hears a distant CLANGING. VOICE (O.S.) Bring out your deeeaaad! Bring out your deeeaaad! A death cart clatters slowly past the mouth of the alley, DRIVER ringing his bell. It makes no sense to the Creature, but it's a sign of human life. He presses on ... EXT - TOWN SQUARE - DAY ... and emerges into the square as ANGLE WIDENS. There's a fair amount of activity. People are still leaving the city, though the earlier flood has thinned. Some citizens are still trying to go about their normal lives. VENDORS are calling out, selling foo The Creature moves through the square, unnoticed, just another figure mingling with the flow. People trudge along, eyes downcast, miseries great, paying little attention. The Creature pauses, sniffing the air. An aroma draws him to a vendor's stand. Loaves of bread are laid out. He hunches down to smell one, picks it up, bites off a chunk. Chewing. It's good. A bigger bite. Snatching up more. WOMAN (O.S.) Here! What do you think you're doing? The Creature glances up. The VENDOR'S WIFE is within arm's reach, breath catching in her throat at the sight of him. Mouth gaping. Too stunned to scream. The Creature cradles the loaves to his chest, terrified she's going to take them away. He remembers his recent experience with the dogs and decides to try out the lesson he learned: he curls his lips back and snarls. He's rewarded with a PIERCING SHRIEK. The Creature jumps back, startled. This wasn't the desired effect. The woman SCREAMS like she'll never stop. He turns to run away ... ... and plows right into the stream of refuge S. He goes sprawling, scraping his knees bloody, still clutching his (CONTINUED) 56 loaves. Confusion all around. People converge angrily. A ROUGH MAN grabs his hair, jerking him upright ... ROUGH MAN Stupid bastard! ... and the Creature staggers to his feet before them, whimpering to protect his food, showing his face to all. Screams and panic. The Creature whips around, seeing horrified faces on all sides ... He's the cholera! He's the one been spreadin' the plague! ... faces which turn into an angry mob, glaring sheer hatred. Somebody hits him in the face with a heavy stick, spinning him to the ground, loaves of bread scattering. they surround him, hitting, flailing, throwing stones. He tries to crawl, whimpering for them to stop. VENDOR'S WIFE BURN HIM! BURN HIM! The Creature finds himself hoisted into the air, falling back onto a sea of hands, kicking and screaming as the mob sweeps him across the square like some pagan sacrifice. He gets tossed onto the hard cobblestone in a thrashing heap, scrambles to his knees as the crowd surrounds him. He's wailing with terror now, long inhuman howls of fear. Men start flinging lamp oil, spattering him, blinding him. A torch is lit, swung toward him. Feel the heat. The Creature lunges to his feet, panic and terror complete bulldozing through the crowd to get away from the torch, bowling people over, scattering them in all directions. He breaks free, hobbling wildly across the square, greatcoat billowing. The mob streams after him, thirsty for blood, hurling rocks and sticks. EXT - STREETS/ALLEYS - DAY The Creature is weeping as he runs, bleeding from his many cuts and bruises. He turns a corner, collapses against a wall to catch his breath. He can hear them coming, shouting. They'll be here any second. He sees a death cart heaped with bodies. He hurls himself up on the cart to conceal himself among the putrefying corpses. The crowd streams past the mouth of the alley. The death cart WORKERS appear, heaving another corpse onto the cart, gaping fearfully at the confusion. They scramble into their seats, snap the reins. The cart rattles off as we DISSOLVE TO: 57 EXT - STREET - DAY Elsewhere in Ingolstadt. Death carts and devastation. This part of town was hit hard. Bodies are heaped in gutters, stacked along the walls. People are huddled in doorways, quaking with sickness and pestilence. CART WORKERS move among them, faces shrouded with kerchiefs and burlap masks. WORKER #1 moves down a row of the sick and dead, shaking them to see which is which, his face hidden behind heavy burlap. He pauses, seeing Victor unconscious against the wall, pale and covered with filth, shaking with fever. The worker's eyes widen. Stunned. He calls over his shoulder: WORKER #1 over here! WORKER #2 hurries over. Stares down. Eyes also widening. WORKER #2 Oh my God. Worker #1 rips his mask away. It's Henry. He leans down and grabs Victor, trying to rouse him. HENRY Victor Worker #2 also sweeps his mask aside. Professor Krempe KREMPE Don't dawdle, lad! The sick cart! Lift on three! One, two, three! They hoist Victor off the ground by his arms and legs and carry him into the street. Victor rouses, feels himself being carried. He sees a death cart looming ahead, stacked with heaps of reeking dead. Staring. Waiting. VICTOR (delirious, struggling) No ... no ... I'm not dead ... please ... Don't put me on the cart! I'm not dead! I'm not dead! I'M NOT DEAD! ANGLE WIDENS UP as they carry him kicking and screaming past the death cart and on across the square ... WIPE TO: EXT - MASS CEMETERY - DAY A death cart rattles past, bearing its load. PAN WITH IT to reveal a scene utterly Dante-esque. Here's where the dead are brought to be burned en masse. Fires are burning. Smoke (CONTINUED) 58 is drifting in thick clouds, obscuring the sky. Soot is drifting like black snow. BODIES are dumped into a slit- trench, rolling and tumbling in heaps. Barrels are kicked over. Streams of oil come pouring down, splashing and soaking. One of the corpses moves, heaving the others aside, The Creature gazes around, terrified once again at the smell of oil. He knows what that means. He pushes free, clambering over bodies, desperately trying to scramble from the trench, loose soil crumbling under his fingertips ... ON THE LIP OF THE TRENCH ... as WORKERS prepare to light the blaze. A MAN turns toward the trench with a burning torch ... And then the Creature erupts from the trench of dead bodies right before big eyes, The man SCREAMS. The Creature SCREAMS even louder, cowering back. The man hurls the torch. The Creature ducks as it goes spinning over his head into the trench. WA-BOOOM! A massive wall of flame punches sky-ward. The Creature whirls, stunned at the searing heat, arms thrown up in horror. He flees, scattering the workers as he goes, running from this ghastly place of flames and death ... DISSOLVE TO: EXT - WOODS - DAY The Creature comes blundering into view. On the move. He knows not where. Just away, He arrives at a pond. Water. He's thirsty. He scrambles to water's edge, starts lapping it up with his hands. He pauses, noticing his broken reflection. The water settles and his face comes clearly into view. He throws his hands up and SHRIEKS, terrified at his own reflection ... ... and then he realizes it's him down there. He stirs the water with his fingertips to make sure. He reaches up, touching his face, utterly horrified at the sight of it... ... and utterly heartbroken. He drops his face into his hand and weeps helplessly. BARKING DOGS in the distance. He looks up, thinking they're after him. A moan of grief. He pushes to his feet. TRACKING THE CREATURE faster and faster through the trees, running from this world he's been born into. Gasping for breath. Crashing through branches. (CONTINUED) 59 The BARKING draws closer. He hurls himself into a thicket, scrambling to hide himself, covering himself with dead leaves. Panic. Exhaustion. Mortal terror. He flinches as something comes CRASHING through the brush nearby. The legs of a DOE come into view. Staggering. Falling. Thrashing down into a cushion of dead leaves. Two arrows protrude from her heaving side. A tiny FAWN stumbles into view on ungainly legs, mouth open, frothing with exhaustion and terror. waiting for his mother to rise. Her thrashing grows weaker. Dying. The Creature moans at the sight. The fawn turns, meets his gaze. An extended beat. A rush of empathy. The Creature reaches out. The fawn takes a few hesitant steps toward him. The BARKING draws closer. HUNTERS shouting. The Creature's fingertips make contact with the fawn ... A pack of the biggest, nastiest Staffordshire terriers you've ever seen throw themselves HOWLING AND SNARLING onto the doe, savaging her like whirling dervishes, The Creature lets out a SHRIEK, snatches up the fawn as he lunges to his feet, crashes off through the foliage with the fawn cradled to his chest. The dogs take off after him. DOLLYING THE CREATURE Running full-tilt, SHRIEKING in terror all the way. Trying to save the fawn. Trying to save himself. The dogs are snapping at his heels, trying to sever his hamstrings and bring him down. He hears RUSHING WATER ahead, crashes headlong through a thicket ... EXT - RIVER - DAY ... and sails SCREAMING into empty SPACE, twisting and spinning as He falls, plummeting head-first into the rapids. the dogs are left behind. the Creature gets swept along, gasping and choking, caroming off huge boulders, fawn still clutched protectively to his chest. Finally the water starts to settle. He manages to lash out and secure a handhold. He pulls himself up, clambering over the rocks and staggering onto firm soil. He collapses to his knees, dripping water and heaving for breath. He lowers the fawn away from his chest, joyous at their escape ... only to realize the small animal is limp and lifeless in his hands. He crushed it to death trying to save it. He lays it down, moaning, trying to understand. ANGLE WIDENS UP into the trees as we DISSOLVE TO: 60 WOODS - DUSK TILT DOWN to reveal a solitary figure in a greatcoat trudging across the sodden countryside under a dismal, darkening sky. Cold. Hungry. Wet. Tired. The Creature pauses, hearing FAINT MUSIC drifting on the breeze: the lovely flute-like sounds of a recorder. He slogs to the crest of a ridge. There's a small house in the valley below. A peasant dwelling. Smoke drifts from the chimney. That's where the music comes from (a simple and plaintive rendition of our movie's WALTZ/LOVE THEME). The Creature proceeds down the ridge ... drawn by the music and the promise of warmth. HOUSE - DAY The Creature approaches cautiously. Furtive. He eases to a window, catches a glimpse inside, draws back. Listening. The tune ends. We hear the pleasant murmur of VOICES. FOOTSTEPS come clumping across the floor. The Creature reels back and dives around the side of the house as the door unlatches and swings open. FELIX exits, a poor man trying to scratch an honest living from the soil. He heads in the same direction as the Creature ... ANOTHER ANGLE ... and walks around the corner of the house just as the Creature scrambles from view behind the chicken coops. The Creature watches through the wire and wood as Felix approaches and stops, only his legs visible. Feed is scattered through the wire. The chi PIGSTY - DUSK ... and finds himself in the company of PIGS. the animals GRUNT and SQUEAL in alarm. FELIX (0. S.) Yes, yes, I'm coming ... The Creature scurries further back into the shadows as Felix's feet stop just outside. A pail is upended. Slop pours into the trough. Felix walks away. The pigs scurry to eat. The Creature leans forward intently. Food? He crawls to the trough and squeezes in among the pigs. They jostle, but he jostles right back, wanting his fair (CONTINUED) 61 share. He laps up the slop with his fingers, dribbling it down his chin. Not much on taste, but it's edible. He stops, hearing the recorder MUSIC again, turning toward the sound. He follows it, crawling back into the darkest recesses where the sty adjoins the wall of the house. He places his eye to a chink between the logs ... ... and sees GRANDFATHER playing the instrument near a fireplace of glowing embers. The Creature shifts for another view, sees the family preparing the table for dinner. Felix and his wife MARIE are helped by their children, MAGGIE AND THOMAS, ages 6 and 8 MARIE Bring Grandfather to the table. The old man stops playing as the children scurry over. As Maggie helps him to his feet, Thomas tosses another log on the fire. It BLAZES UP. Fire and sparks. in the pigsty, the Creature draws back with a fearful moan ... ... that nobody but GRANDFATHER hears, He pauses to gaze blindly toward the wall, eyes milky with cataracts, wondering what it might have been. Probably nothing. He lets the children lead him toward the table. the meal is brought from the stove and ladled out. The Creature eases back to the chink in the wall, smelling it from here. A string of drool spills from his mouth. It's humble fare, not very appetizing, but it looks like a feast compared to pig slop ... DISSOLVE TO: INT - VICTOR'S BEDROOM - NIGHT Victor lies sleeping. Wrestling with troubled dreams. In an eerie echo of before: the door creaks open in a spill of light. A shadow enters, creeps to the bed, falls across his face. Victor's eyes fly open. He tries to erupt from bed, choking on a scream ... and Henry wrestles him back to the pillow to feel his clammy forehead. HENRY Thank God your fever broke. (offers him water) Slowly, now. Just a sip. (Victor sips, falls back) I've been worried we might lose you. It's been touch-and-go for a week. VICTOR A... week? (CONTINUED) 62 HENRY We feared cholera. Turned out to be pneumonia, brought on by nervous exhaustion and some idiot running around in a storm. - VICTOR Is that your diagnosis? HENRY Mine and Professor Krempel's. (off his look) We've been trading off nursing you in shifts. The rest of the time we're out working with the cholera victims. It's his turn for that just now. VICTOR You've been going round-the-clock? HENRY We catch a few hours sleep where we can. Usually here at your bedside. VICTOR (deeply moved) Everything in moderation, Clerval. HENRY Nothing in moderation, Frankenstein. Victor takes Henry's hand. Squeezes it. HENRY It's the down-and-outs I pity most. Those who can't fend for themselves. They'll be dead by the thousands before this is done. They don't stand a chance out there. VICTOR (thinking of his creation) No. They don't. HENRY Victor. This place looked like a charnel house. What went on here? Victor pauses, too emotional to respond. Softly: VICTOR I want to go home. Beat. Henry accepts this, though he doesn't like it. (CONTINUED) 63 HENRY It'll be months before you're well enough. Meantime, your family must be frantic not hearing from you. Henry grabs a stack of letters from the nightstand. HENRY I found these. Some of the postmarks go back nine months. (slaps them on the bed) Why don't you open them? And when you've the strength, have the decency to ease their minds with a reply. Soon as the city ends quarantine, I'll even mail it for you. Along with this. (raises the locket) It's a beautiful gift. Does her no good lying here. Henry leaves him alone to wrestle with his guilt. Victor is swept with emotion and remorse. He closes his eyes. Softly: VICTOR It can't survive. INT - PIGSTY - DAY The Creature and the pigs are sleeping in a heap. He rouses, scattering them, crawls to the slats of the sty. Felix is returning wearily from the fields with a large basket on his back. The Creature moves to his chink in the wall to see Felix enter the house and dump the basket out for Marie. A pathetic array of potatoes and turnips. FELIX Not much to look at. Even less to eat. I don't how we're going to get through the winter with this yield. MARIE We'll sell another pig at market. FELIX one less for us. MARIE We'll make do. We always have. He sinks into a chair, weighed by worry. She moves to comfort him, cradling his head to her breast. He returns her embrace, drawing strength. A tender, gentle moment. The Creature watches, puzzled and empathetic, deeply moved by her sympathy. Felix gathers himself, wipes his eyes. (CONTINUED) 64 FELIX I'll see if I can scratch a few more out of the ground. He hoists the basket and exits. The Creature turns to watch Felix trudging back toward the fields. EXT - FIELD - DAY Felix digs for potatoes, tilling as he goes. Back-breaking work. Thomas provides what help he can. Some distance away, Maggie and Grandfather are tending the cow. ANGLE SHIFTS to reveal the Creature watching from the brambles ... INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT The Creature watches the family eat their dinner. Potatoes and turnips. A glimmer of understanding in his eyes. EXT - HOUSE - NIGHT A long shadow looms toward the dwelling ... circling the house...approaching the shed. Baskets and tools ... EXT - FIELDS - NIGHT We find the Creature working by the light of a refulgent moon, hacking away at the soil, tilling the earth ... INT - PIGSTY - DAWN The Creature stirs, hearing movement within the house. He scurries to the slats of the sty and peers out. All the baskets from the tool shed are stacked to overflow before the door. The door opens. Felix steps out and trips on a basket, sprawling to the ground in a torrent of potatoes and turnips. He sits up, gazing in wonder. INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT A sliver of warm light spills through the chink in the wall. The Creature looms into frame, busily munching a raw potato. A pig comes snuffling at his elbow. He shoves him away. Go find your own. Inside, the family is enjoying a much more generous meal than the last one: GRANDFATHER I wish we could thank our benefactor. FELIX Nothing in this life comes free of cost. I'd like to know who and why. (CONTINUED) 65 MAGGIE It's the Good Spirit of the forest. FELIX Who's been filling your head? GRANDFATHER It does no harm. FELIX (peers at him) Oh, I see. THOMAS Is it, Papa? Is it the Good Spirit? Felix and Marie exchange a look. He's not as amused as she is, but lets it go. She smiles at the children. MARIE of course it is. Now finish your food before it gets cold. EXT - POND - DAY Grandfather sits playing his recorder. The cow is grazing at a distance. The Creature creeps into view, listening to the music. Grandfather senses his presence. Turns. GRANDFATHER Who's there? Felix? Children? No response. He turns back. Unsettled. Continues playing. INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT The Creature watches Marie instructing the children in their letters. A half dozen words are written in chalk on a slate board. Maggie is trying to puzzle one out: MAGGIE ff..reh..nn..nd. Friend? Friend. MARIE Good! And now the next CREATURE (mimicking the effort) ... freh ... nnn..nd. Freehhnnnd. He's delighted to have uttered his first word. EXT - WOODS - DAY Felix is chopping lengths of wood, dulled by the task. The (CONTINUED) 66 children are stacking the wood on a litter. EXT - FIELD - DUSK Felix and the children walk home. The litter of wood is being dragged by their cow ... EXT - HOUSE - DUSK Felix stacks the last pile of wood under the eaves. Marie meets him at the door, takes his hands. MARIE Your hands are bleeding again. Come in. I'll rub liniment. They go inside. The door closes. CAMERA PUSHES to the pigsty. Eyes peering out. EXT - WOODS - NIGHT The Creature walks along, munching a turnip, axe slung over his shoulder, muttering: CREATURE .brread ... motherrr ... frriend ... (stops, gazes up) Treeeeee EXT - HOUSE - MORNING The walls around the house are stacked impossibly high with cords of wood. Felix and Marie gaze out the door. Stunned. FELIX What is going on here? INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT Snow is drifting outside the tall dormer window. We find Victor at his desk, reading a letter: VICTOR ... but it's been so long since I've heard from you. Remember the vow we took the night you left? You must be honest with me if your feelings have changed. Answer for the sake of our friendship, and both our future happiness." (pause) She wrote that four months ago. ANGLE SHIFTS to include Henry. He's been listening. (CONTINUED) 67 HENRY A woman like that is far too rare to be taken lightly. Victor ponders the letter. He lays it next to the locket, pulls out a sheet of paper and quill, begins to write ... INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT The Creature observes another lesson. Six more words are chalked on the board. Thomas is struggling with the first: THOMAS Ch...uur-ch. Church. CREATURE Ch...uuur ... ch. MARIE Good. And the next. THOMAS Fl ... oww. CREATURE Floww ... And then, amazingly, the Creature finishes the word before Thomas does: CREATURE ... wwer. Flower. THOMAS .wer. Flower? MARIE Very good! Maggie. Try the next Now the Creature beats Maggie to the punch: CREATURE Garrr ... denn. Garden. THOMAS Ma