《沉默的羔羊》SilenceOfTheLambs.doc

其他范文/相声小品剧本 沉默的羔羊SilenceOfTheLambs t h e s i l e n c e o f t h e l a m b sscreenplay byted tallybased on the novel bythomas harris2nd draftjuly 28, 1989notefor legal reasons, the names of threeof tom harriss characters have had tobe changed. it is my hope, and certainlytoms, that the original names can berestored in time for the making of thismovie.for the purposes of this draft, however,jack crawford has become ray campbell,frederick chilton has become herbertprentiss, and dr. hannibal lecter iscalled dr. gideon quinn.fade in: int. grubby hotel corridor - day (dimly lit) a womans face backs into shot, her head resting against grimy wallpaper. she is tense, sweaty, wide-eyed with concentration. this is clarice starling - mid-20s, trim, very pretty. she wears kevlar body armor over a navy windbreaker, khaki pants. her thick hair is piled under a navy baseball cap. a revolver, clutched in her right hand, hovers by her ear. she raises a speedloader, in her left hand, locks it into her cylinder, twists and reloads. close on a guest room door, with a small, wired pack attached to its knob. suddenly, wish a sharp crack!, the knob explodes, and the door bursts open. with clarice - moving shot - as she runs around a corner, through a cloud of smoke. she shoulders aside the shattered door and rushes inside, gun at the ready in both hands. cut to: int. hotel room - day clarices pov - moving - as she first sees, sitting on the edge of a bed - a female hostage. black, late 20s, gagged, hands behind her back. then, swivelling. she sees a startled male suspect - white, mid-20s - standing by a window with a rifle in his hands. he is turning towards her. clarice drops into a combat crouch, gun extended, and shouts. clarice freeze! fbi! clarices pov - slow motion - all natural sound suspended - as the suspect faces her with a strange, pleading expression. the rifle is rising in his hands, but oddly enough, it is held across his chest, not pointing. then another puzzling detail registers. the suspects hands are taped to his gun, away from the trigger; he couldnt use it even if he tried. suddenly we hear a metallic click, which reg- isters with unnatural amplification, as - clarice reacts, drops to the floor, rolling sideways, and - the hostage pulls a revolver out from behind her back, still in slow motion, raising it in her untied hands. she fires repeatedly, flames leaping from the muzzle; the sound is an echoing roar in these close quarters, but - clarice has come up on one knee, beside an armchair, and is already firing back herself, two quick shots, which send - the hostage pitching over the bed, backwards, to shudder and lie still in a haze of gunsmoke. clarice rushes to her, clamping one knee down on her gun hand, still keeping her covered in case of movement. hold for a few beats. then we hear the shrill blast of a whistle from somewhere, o.s., as normal action and sound are restored. brigham (o.s.) okay, people, good exercise. clarice relaxes, lowering her gun. the lights brighten. pulling back - we see that were in some sort of auditorium, with the hotel room and its corridor built as a training set. john brigham walks onto this set, thumbing a stopwatch. mid-40s, ex-marine. his t-shirts lettering says firearms instructor / fbi academy. brigham (contd.) starlings reaction time was excellent. lets break. critique in five. a class of about forty young fbi trainees, of both sexes, be- gins to rise from their seats, mingling and chatting. clarice nods amiably to the suspect, then gives her hostage a hand up. its ardelia mapp, her roommate. her broad, clever face breaks into a big smile, as they both remove ear plugs. clarices voice has just a soft trace of southern accent. ardelia damn, clarice, howd you make me? clarice (indicating her gun) never cock. just squeeze. ardelia (grins) i love it when you talk dirty. as brigham joins them, clarice cant resist a star pupils little smile of pride. he frowns good-naturedly. brigham whatre you laughin at, junior g-man? she got off four rounds to your two. he takes out a steel-coiled grip flexer, drops it onto her palm. brigham (contd.) one hundred reps, each hand, every day. now tidy up, the section chief wants to see you. he nods a direction, then moves off. clarice, with her smile finally fading, looks out into the auditorium. special agent ray campbell sits on the top step of the aisle, looking down at her. he is 53, strongly built. he rises impassively, exits through the back door. he carries a think manila envelope under one arm. ardelia who is helping clarice unbuckle her bullet-proof vest, follows her worried gaze. clarice whatd i do? ardelia stay cool. just remember to call him god. cut to: ext. fbi academy grounds, quantico, virginia - day campbell is watching a group of trainees on the firing range, as clarice joins him. he looks tired, haunted. between master and student, we sense a subtle, muted tug of sexuality. campbell starling, clarice m., good morning. clarice good morning, mr. campbell. campbell your instructors tell me youre doing well. top quarter of the class. clarice i hope so. they havent posted anything. campbell a jobs come up and i thought about you. not really a job, more of - an interest- ing errand. walk me to my car, starling. they begin to cross the academy grounds. a group of trainees jogs by, in matching sweats, following a p.e. coach. campbell (contd.) were trying to interview all of the serial killers now in custody, for a psychobehavioral profile. could be a big help in unsolved cases. most of them have been happy to talk to us. they have a compulsion to boast, these people. do you spook easily, starling? clarice not yet. campbell you see, the one we want most refuses to cooperate. i want you to go after him again today, in the asylum. clarice whos the subject? campbell the psychiatrist - dr. gideon quinn. clarice stops walking, goes very still. a beat. clarice the cannibal. campbell doesnt respond, except to study her face. clarice (contd.) yes, well. okay, right. im glad for the chance, sir, but - why me? campbell youre qualified and available. and frankly, i cant spare a real agent right now. he walks on again, at a faster clip. she hurried to keep up. campbell (contd.) i dont expect him to talk to you, but i have to be able to say we tried. quinn was a brilliant psychiatrist, and he knows all the dodges. (hands her the manila envelope) dossier on him, copy of our question- naire, special id for you. if he wont talk, then i want straight reporting. hows he look, hows his cell look, whats he writing? the director himself will see your report, over your own signa- ture - if i decide its good enough. i want that by 0800 wednesday, and keep this to yourself. theyre reached his car. his driver stamps on a cigarette, climbs in behind the wheel. burroughs, his assistant, says something in- to a walkie-talkie, then opens the back door. but campbell pulls her aside, a hand on her shoulder. his intensity is scary. campbell (contd.) now. i want your full attention, starling. are you listening to me? clarice yes sir. campbell be very careful with gideon quinn. dr. prentiss at the asylum will go over the physical procedures used with him. do not deviate from them, for any reason. you tell him nothing personal, starling. believe me, you dont want gideon quinn inside your head. just do your job, but never forget what he is. clarice (a bit unnerved) and what is that, sir? prentiss (v.o.) oh, hes a monster. a pure psychopath. cut to: int. prentisss office - baltimore state hospital for the criminally insane - day close on an i.d. card held in a male hand. clarices photo, of- ficial-looking graphics. it calls her a federal investigator. prentiss (contd., o.s.) its so rare to capture one alive. from a research point of view, dr. quinn is our most prized asset. dr. herbert prentiss looks up from her card. a smarmy little peacock, behind a vast desk; hes conceived an instant, hopeless letch for clarice. he smiles, stroking her card with his beloved gold pen. prentiss (contd.) you know, we get a lot of detectives here, but i must say, i cant ever remember one so attractive. new angle - reveals clarice - now wearing a more feminine skirt suit. hair neatly coiled, ele- gant shoulder bag, briefcase. he has rudely left her standing. prentiss (contd.) will you be in baltimore overnight.? because this can be quite a fun town, if you have the right guide. clarice tires, unsuccessfully, to hide her distaste for him. clarice im sure its a great town, dr. prentiss, but my instructions are to talk to quinn and report back this afternoon. prentiss (pause; sourly) i see. (beat) lets make this quick, then. im busy. cut to: int. asylum corridor - upper floor - day clarice flinches as a heavy steel gate clangs shut behind her, the bolt shooting home. prentiss walks ahead of her. prentiss quinn carved up nine people - that were sure of - and cooked his favorite bits. weve tried to study him, of course - but hes much too sophisticated for the stan- dard tests. and my, does he hate us! thinks im his nemesis. campbells very clever, isnt he? using you. clarice how do you mean, dr. prentiss? prentiss a pretty young woman, to turn him on? i dont believe quinns ever seen a woman in eight years. and oh, are you ever his taste - so to speak. clarice i graduated magna from uva, doctor. its not a charm school. prentiss good. then you should be able to remember the rules. cut to: int. different corridor - lower floor - day a darker, even grimmer area. heavy grids over the lights. dis- tant slammings and faint, hoarse shouts. they walk briskly. prentiss do not reach through the bars, do not touch the bars. you pass him nothing but soft paper - no pens or pencils. no staples or paperclips in his paper. use the sliding food carrier, no exceptions. do not accept anything he attempts to hold out to you. do you understand me? clarice i understand. prentiss im going to show you why we insist on such precautions. on the afternoon of july 8, 1981, he complained of chest pains and was taken to the dispensary. his mouthpiece and restraints were removed for an ekg. when the nurse bent over him, he did this to her. he hands clarice a small, dog-eared photo. looking at it, she is stopped in her tracks. this pleases prentiss. prentiss (contd.) the doctors managed to re-set her jaw, more or less, and save one of her eyes. his pulse never got over eighty-five, even when he ate her tongue. (pause; he smiles) i keep him in here. he turns, pushes a button. a steel door buzzes slowly open, and barney - a big, impassive orderly - awaits them in an anteroom. on its walls: restraints, mouthpieces, mace, tranquilizer guns. clarice (quickly blocking him) dr. prentiss - if quinn feels youre his enemy - as youve said - them maybe ill have more luck by myself. what do you think? prentiss (annoyed) you might have suggested that in my office, and saved me the time. clarice but then i wouldve missed the pleasure of your company. she holds out the photo. a beat. he grabs it, jaw twitching. prentiss when shes finished, bring her out. he turns on his heel, goes. barney smiles reassuringly. barney hi, im barney. he told you, dont get near the bars? clarice (shaking his hand) clarice starling. yes, he did. barney okay. past the others, its the last cell. stay to the middle. i put out a chair for you. sensing her tension, he indicates a nearby security monitor. barney (contd.) im watching. youll do fine. clarice nods gratefully. she looks down the long corridor, takes a deep breath, walks into it. he watches her go. cut to: int. dr. quinns corridor - day moving shot - with clarice, as her footsteps echo. high to her right, surveillance cameras. on her left, cells. some are pad- ded, with narrow observation slits, others are normal, barred. shadowy occupants pacing, muttering. suddenly a dark figure in the next-to-last cell hurtles towards her, his face mashing grotesquely against his bars as he hisses. dark figure i c-can sssmell your cunt! clarice flinches momentarily, but then walks on. dr. quinns cell is coming slowly into view. behind its barred front wall is a second barrier of stout nylon net. sparse, bolted-down furni- ture, many softcover books and papers. on the walls, extraordi- narily detailed, skillful drawings, mostly european cityscapes, in charcoal or crayon. clarice stops, at a police distance from his bars, clears her throat. clarice dr. quinn. my name is clarice starling. may i talk with you? dr. gideon quinn is lounging on his bunk, in white pajamas, reading an italian vogue. he turns, considers her. a face so long out of the sun, it seems almost leached - except for the glittering eyes, and the wet red mouth. he rises smoothly, crossing to stand be- fore her; the gracious host. his voice is cultured, soft. dr. quinn good morning. cutting between them as clarice comes a measured distance closer. clarice doctor, we have a hard problem in psych- ological profiling. i want to ask for your help with a questionnaire. dr. quinn we being the behavioral science unit, at quantico. youre one of ray campbells, i expect. clarice i am, yes. dr. quinn may i see your credentials? clarice is surprised, but fishes her id card from her bag, holds it up for his inspection. he smiles, soothingly. dr. quinn (contd.) closer, please. clo-ser. she complies each time, trying to hide her fear. dr. quinns nostrils lift, as he gently, like an animal, tests the air. then he smiles, glancing at her card. dr. quinn (contd.) that expires in one week. youre not real fbi, are you? clarice im - still in training at the academy. dr. quinn ray campbell sent a trainee to me? clarice were talking about psychology, doctor, not the bureau. can you decide for your- self whether or not im qualified? dr. quinn mmmmm. thats rather slippery of you, officer starling. sit. please. she sits in the folding metal desk-chair. he waits politely till shes settled, then sits down himself, faces her happily. dr. quinn (contd.) now then. what did miggs say to you? (she is puzzled) multiple miggs, in the next cell. he hissed at you. what did he say? clarice he said - i can smell your cunt. dr. quinn i see. i myself cannot. you use evyan skin cream, and sometimes you wear lair du temps, but not today. you brought your best bag, though, didnt you? clarice (beat) yes. dr. quinn its much better than your shoes. clarice maybe theyll catch up. dr. quinn i have no doubt of it. clarice (shifting uncomfortably) did you do those drawings, doctor? dr. quinn yes. thats the duomo, seen from the belvedere. do you know florence? clarice all that detail, just from memory.? dr. quinn memory, officer starling, is what i have instead of view. a pause, then clarice takes the questionnaire from her case. clarice dr. quinn, if youd please consider - dr. quinn no, no, no. you were doing fine, youd been courteous and receptive to courtesy, youd established trust with the embar- rassing truth about miggs, and now this ham-handed segue into your questionnaire. it wont do. its stupid and boring. clarice im only asking you to look at this, doctor. either you will or you wont. dr. quinn ray campbell must be very busy indeed if hes recruiting help from the student body. busy hunting that new one, buffalo bill. such a naughty boy! did campbell send you to ask for my advice on him? clarice no, i came because we need - dr. quinn how many women has he used, our bill? clarice five. so far. dr. quinn all flayed.? clarice partially, yes. but doctor, thats an active case, im not involved. if you could - dr. quinn do you know why hes called buffalo bill? tell me. the newspapers wont say. clarice ill tell you if youll look at this form. (he considers, then nods) it started as a bad joke in kansas city homicide. they said. this one likes to skin his humps. dr. quinn witless and misleading. why do you think he takes their skins, officer starling? thrill me with your wisdom. clarice it excites him. most serial killers keep some sort of - trophies. dr. quinn i didnt. clarice no. you ate yours. a tense beat, then a smile from him, at this small boldness. dr. quinn send that through. she rolls him the questionnaire, in his sliding food tray. he rises, glances at it, turning a page or two disdainfully. dr. quinn (contd.) oh, officer starling. do you think you can dissect me with this blunt little tool? clarice no. i only hoped that your knowledge - suddenly he whips the tray back at her, with a metallic clang that makes her start. his voice remains a pleasant purr. dr. quinn (contd.) youre sooo ambitious, arent you.? you know what you look like to me, with your good bag and your cheap shoes? you look like a rube. a well-scrubbed, hust- ling rube with a little taste. good nutrition has given you some length of bone, but youre not more than one gen- eration from poor white trash, are you - officer starling.? that accent youre trying so desperately to shed - pure west virginia. what was your father, dear? was he a coal miner? did he stink of the lamp.? and oh, how quickly the boys found you! all those tedious, sticky fumblings, in the back seats of cars, while you could only dream of getting out. getting anywhere - yes? getting all the way - to the f.b.i. his every word has struck her like a tiny, precise dart. but she squares her jaw and wont give ground. clarice you see a lot, dr. quinn. but are you strong enough to point that high-powered perception at yourself? how about it.? look at yourself and write down the truth. (she slams the tray back at him) or maybe youre afraid to. dr. quinn youre a tough one, arent y