BRIGHTON BANDITS
Screenplay by Mark Norby Copyright ©
2014 by Mark Norby
OPENING CREDITS WHITE LETTERS ON BLACK
FADE UP ON:
EXT/INT. CORNER GROCERY. BRIGHTON. ENGLAND AFTERNOON (2014)
A MAN ENTERS CORNER GROCERY. His name is Geoffrey but we
know him as just another MAN for now.
His Appearance: Geoffrey is sixty-seven, handsome with salt
and pepper hair. He wears a brown and navy Hound's-tooth
jacket, crisp white shirt, dark trousers and polished shoes
finished with British cap atop his head. Handsome but stodgy,
prone to boorishness.
Geoffrey walks to the cashier's counter. Behind the counter
A CHINESE MAN in thick-rimmed glasses awaits, white starched
shirt and sheen of black hair: a black and white stick of a
figure.
GEOFFREY
Lotto Ticket. Tonight.
STORE CLERK
Yes, Chunnel Ticket. Tonight.
GEOFFREY
Not Chunnel Ticket, you twit. Lotto
Ticket!
CLERK
Oh, yes very much.
CLERK REACHES INTO A BLACK BAG UNDER THE COUNTER, pulls out
an envelope, flips back the unsealed flap and pulls out a
ticket for a Chunnel ride across La Manche (the English
Channel). He reinserts the ticket and stands to give the
envelope to Geoffrey. Geoffrey pays him with a credit card,
signs blindly, takes the envelope from the counter and turns
to leave the store.
FADE TO BLACK.
FADE UP ON:
EXT. BRIGHTON BEACH AND BOARDWALK. BRIGHTON. ENGLAND - DAY
WE OPEN ON BRIGHTON BEACH, Brighton Pier and its amusement
park loaded with color-filled flashing lights and wild rides
in motion, then to the shops, clubs, and inns FRONTING Marine
Parade, the main road along Brighton Beach.
2.
STEADY CAM SEVERAL BEATS.
STEADY CAM AND PAN ACROSS BRIGHTON BOARDWALK, several more
beats. THALLUS (VOICE OVER) begins to tell this tale…
THALLUS
(voice over, craftily)
This is Brighton. Brighton today is
a jolly, friendly seaside town in
Sussex, just an hour's journey from
London.
CAMERA ZOOMS IN from out on the water towards Brighton
Boardwalk and past it, into a narrow alleyway.
THALLUS
BUT BEHIND HER REGENCY TERRACES, PEBBLED BEACHES, AND AMBLING
BOARDWALK LURKS ANOTHER BRIGHTON. THIS IS THE BRIGHTON OF
SLUICING ALLEYWAYS AND ABANDONED GROTTOS, WHICH LURES THE
UNSUSPECTING TO AN UNDERWORLD KNOWN AS THE SPORE…
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. SHIP STREET. BRIGHTON. ENGLAND. DUSK (2006)
Lingering orange-purple light casts into an alleyway. Dark
buildings fade one by one in the distance as a striking couple
approach down the alley, bathed in this last light of day.
They laugh arm in arm down the length of the vacant alleyway,
which curves into Ship Street. THEY are Marsden and Mildred.
Marsden: Now twenty-one and a student on his way to university
in Sussex. Handsome and confident, his black hair on pail
skin timeless, assured. He wears a dark gray wool jacket and
dark gray pinstriped trousers with polished black boots.
MILDRED: Fifty and an ex-clerk of the defunct Ship Street Coop
Bank. Classically gorgeous: short, chocolate brown curled
hair styled perfectly. Her makeup is perfect: fine-powdered
skin, black mascara, ruby red lipstick. She is dressed
impeccably in a ruby-colored dress covered by an elegant
dark gray overcoat.
THALLUS CONTINUES, CRAFTILY, to tell us the tale…
THALLUS
(v.o., craftily)
LURES THE UNSUSPECTING…
Together they maneuver the surface
of cobblestones and stumble upon
Mildred's former job site the longdisused,
SQUATTED HEADQUARTERS of
the SHIP STREET CO-OP BANK.
(MORE)
3.
LURES THE UNSUSPECTING… (CONT'D)
THE SQUATTERS GO BY THE COLLECTIVE
NAME SPORE. THE SPORE are known all
across Brighton, a growing collective
of Bandit Caterers committed to
lawless cooperation.
Inside the Squat a Lunar Party rages on. No one but a PORTLY
BALD MAN dressed in black holding a brass trumpet can be
seen outside the dingy building. He guards the door. Marsden
and Mildred have no intention to enter but the bald man
summons them in.
BALD MAN
(cajoling uproariously)
Well come on! Come on, join the party!
She's a pregnant moon and they're
waitin'. Waitin' for you!
THALLUS
(v.o.)
LURES THE UNSUSPECTING…
MARSDEN
(to Mildred)
That's not the kind of place for
you, Mildred.
Mildred abruptly stops Marsden, yanking his arm.
MILDRED
Suddenly you sound like my husband.
We're going in!
MARSDEN
But I've yet to check in…
MILDRED
Rubbish. The Full Moon is no time
for sleep. I'm throwing more than
caution to the wind. I told you I'm
leaving Brighton and you're worried
about sleep. We're going in.
(pause)
Perhaps this is my Bon Voyage
celebration!
MARSDEN
(hesitating)
Are you absolutely sure?
MILDRED
I'm not sure of anything. I've already
told you I'm leaving for good. Mildred
will become but an indelible ghost
in this town come Monday.
(MORE)
4.
MILDRED (CONT'D)
(wind blows through
her hair)
Even your memory of me will fade as
trade winds carry you through to
your destinations. New memories taking
root in that little mind of yours,
and beyond that fat man with a
trumpet. Behind those walls our host
awaits… Pause, she scans the building
façade.
… This party's given in our honor, Marsden!
Marsden beams and she kisses him.
MILDRED (CONT'D)
Come on then, Marsden, we've been
invited to a party!
FADE TO BLACK.
OPENING TITLE: WHITE LETTERING ON BLACK BACKGROUND -
BRIGHTON BANDITS
FADE UP ON:
EXT. THE LANES. BRIGHTON. EARLIER SAME DAY
ANGLE ON - TIRE OF TAXICAB (MOVING)
We hear SHORT SUDDEN SCREECH of the EAST SUSSEX TAXICAB
outside a Brighton department store, in THE LANES Brighton's
famous shopping parade. Department store banner reads: LAST
DAY LEAVING BUSINESS FINAL SALES.
ANGLE ON - MARSDEN EXITING TAXICAB. DAY
Marsden exits taxi, is immediately drawn to the large, brassframed,
department store display windows. STEADY CAM on
Marsden's reflection on the glass. We move closer with him
to see the display inside. As we spy through the window, two
burly men snatch a naked manikin from the display floor. The
display window is then completely empty.
THALLUS
(v.o., craftily)
LAST DAY - LEAVING BUSINESS - FINAL
SALES.
CUT TO:
EXT/INT. THE DRUID PUB. MOMENTS LATER
ANGLE ON - WIND BLOWING SIGN hanging from a beam jutting out
of a stone building. It reads: THE DRUID.
5.
MARSDEN WALKS INTO THE DRUID, a traditional English pub,
dark wood, amber tea lamps, oxblood carpeting over long wood
planks, liquor bottles up the wall. Thick wood barstools
await their customers.
A few paces ahead of Marsden, a pretty, energetic elderly
woman
charges towards the bar. This is MRS. TRICKETT. She slaps a
man, GEOFFREY, on the back with the rolled-up newspaper she
carries.
MRS. TRICKETT: Seventy-three. Big brown/gray hair, large
earrings bejeweled in tiny diamond and emerald stones. She
wears an emerald-colored dress and a gold and emerald neck
scarf under a brown, light wool overcoat, and brown leather
shoes with thick heels.
We see the headline of the rolled-up newspaper as Mrs.
Trickett slaps it down on the bar: MINISTERS' STRIKE: NO END
IN SIGHT. Mrs. Trickett takes a barstool to Geoffrey's left.
He lifts his barstool to make room for her. The long strap
of her briefcase becomes tangled around the leg of the
barstool. Mrs. Trickett begins, her odd King's English giving
way to her peculiar awareness.
MRS. TRICKETT
My dear Geoffrey…Would you be so
kind as to lift your perch. You're
on my case….
CUT TO:
EXT. THE LANES. MOMENTS EARLIER
Marsden back in The Lanes walking away from the department
store and in the direction of The Druid.
THALLUS
(v.o.)
Drawn to places out of reach, Marsden
seeks what books won't teach.
EXT. THE LANES. DAY
All around Marsden people pass women, men, couples with
shopping bags. Teens pass saddled with backpacks laughing,
jeering, heading away from school and into another dimension
than it.
MARSDEN
(to himself)
To and fro. To and fro.
6.
THALLUS
(v.o.)
He knows for sure there's something
more.
ANGLE ON BANDIT CATERERS dressed in black trousers and white
coats, carrying boxes of produce, running across ahead
alleyway.
ANOTHER ANGLE OLD MAN motionless in a cobblestone clearing.
Busy people quickly pass by as he stands alone with the look
of confusion, lost in the midst of a busy city square.
THALLUS (CONT'D)
(cruelly)
No one's coming for you, geezer man.
No tray of confections and spot of
tea. Busy people, busy bee. The Spore
have come to set you free.
EXT. THE LANES. DAY
ANGLE ON MARSDEN, who sees in the distance a flapping banner
on an abandoned old shop, which reads: GET READY FOR THE
LATEST BREAKTHROUGH IN… Next to it he sees the word SPORE
spray-painted onto the old bricks. Cutting through The Lanes
in a trough-like manner, Marsden spots The Druid.
ANOTHER ANGLE MARSDEN and SEXY BOY brushing up against one
another. The boy coiffed, dressed in black and leather. After
noticing one another each carries on their own way. CAMERA
PAN BACK TO OLD MAN in the cobblestone clearing, then quickly
back to BOY pressing on in the opposite direction of The
Druid.
MARSDEN ENTERS UNNOTICED, boldly moves down bar, full with
regulars, seeking an empty perch. As he moves down the bar
MRS. TRICKETT MOVES one seat AWAY FROM GEOFFREY, making the
seat between her and Geoffrey the only one available. Marsden
places his brown leather bag on the floor and straddles right
leg over the top of the perch, then left. Barkeep Thomas
approaches. THOMAS, early thirties, tall with dark red hair,
wears a black barman's waistcoat and white barman's tuxedo
shirt. He shifts his eyes first to Mrs. Trickett then to
Geoffrey to gage their mutual temperament.
THOMAS
(to Marsden )
Governor?
Marsden straightens his back.
MARSDEN
Pint of Tetleys, please.
Mrs. Trickett and Geoffrey bow heads towards one another to
approve.
7.
Mrs. Trickett snatches the opportunity to order another
cordial.
MRS. TRICKETT
Sherry, Thomas.
Thomas places Marsden's pint on the doily and turns to snatch
another cordial glass from a set of compact shelves sandwiched
between broader ones. Efficiently returning to Mrs. Trickett
with a fresh dose.
OUT OF FOCUS - THALLUS appears. CAMERA SLOWLY COMES IN FOCUS -
He is thin, dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and thin
black tie. His very pale skin, ruby red lips, and jet-black
combed back hair give him a timeless appearance. He sits at
the end of the bar and signals to Thomas.
CUT TO:
EXT. OUTSIDE GEOFFREY'S APARTMENTHOUSE. DAY
ANGLE ON GEOFFREYS DAILY ROUTINE, leaving his flat with WIFE
and DOG.
THALLUS
Each day, Geoffrey leaves his Lower
Rock flat, accompanied by his beloved
wife and an old Fox Terrier named
Candy. His routine commences at
precisely two-forty-five in the
afternoon, after the mid-day meal
consisting of some kind of meat,
boiled potato, something green and
boiled, crusty bread, a dollop of
Dijon mustard the wife's favorite -
promptly digested by a cup of black
tea.
Geoffrey and wife strolling up street with Candy.
THALLUS (CONT'D)
The three move up the length of Lower
Rock Gardens to reach Seaman's Market.
ANGLE ON Geoffrey restraining Candy on a leash. He hands the
leash to wife as she turns to leave with Candy.
THALLUS (CONT'D)
It is here that Geoffrey parts way
to join The Druid in not one, not
two, but three half-pints of sweet
cider, which then turns to an
adventure into the Scottish rights
of ten, twenty, thirty year distilled
whiskies.
CUT TO:
8.
INT. THE DRUID. DAY
EXTREME CLOSEUP - MRS. TRICKETT
THALLUS
Widow to the heir of a bottle cap
distribution center in Brighton's
north end, Mrs. Edward Dyllis
Trickett. Daily, at precisely three
twenty-two, Dyllis honors her beloved
Edward…
MRS. TRICKETT
To Sir Edward…
She raises her glass. Geoffrey joins in. Marsden suddenly
pays attention.
THALLUS (O.S.)
And all who've passed before.
Raising their glasses higher, Marsden joining.
MRS. TRICKETT & GEOFFREY
And all of those who've passed before.
THALLUS (O.S.) (CONT'D)
Dead eleven years and buried in the
Seaford Cemetery off the Brighton
High Street, near the Phoenix
Causeway. Like Geoffrey, Dyllis
arrives at The Druid six days a week
in mid-afternoon. Today she drinks
sherry but, depending on the condition
of her stomach, occasionally takes
to schnapps. Mrs. T and Geoffrey
speak about all things Brighton…
Mrs. Trickett signaling to Thomas.
MRS. TRICKETT
Another sherry, Thomas, if you'd be
so kind.
CLOSEUP - MARSDEN
THALLUS
…and rarely has anyone attempted to
occupy the perch between them, not
even The Druid's regulars, let alone
a complete stranger like Marsden.
Yet today is a special day. Marsden,
new to Brighton, a mere child to
them in a town famous for an
amusements park built on a rusty old
pier, Marsden has arrived under the
spell of the Full Moon.
9.
She turns to Marsden.
MRS. TRICKETT
(in dementia)
You know, Brighton was one of Rudyard
Kipling's favorite cities. Rudyard
and I used to stroll arm-in-arm near
the Pavilion and take tea in the
gardens.
MARSDEN
Rudyard Kippling?!
MRS. TRICKETT
Oh, dear. You must be from Hove! The
way you're dressed… I'm from Lewes
myself.
MARSDEN
I'm just on my way to university, in
Sussex…
She takes her purse into her lap, opens it and brings out
one of the few things in it: a black and white photo of a
young man and a young woman arm in arm near Brighton Pavilion.
Marsden takes it in his hand. STEADY CAM on photo.
MRS. TRICKETT (CONTD)
He'd say how much the Pavilion reminds
him of tulips, their plump springtime
buds reminiscent of the Pavilion
domes. Tulips, he used to say… Rudyard
thought the domes of the pavilion
were like that, protruding out of
the earth amidst the austerity of
Edwardian…
…raising her glass… To Edward!
Geoffrey, head in his drink, raises his glass.
GEOFFREY
To Edward!
MRS. TRICKETT
…Edwardian architecture. Brighton is
one of his favorite cities.
Marsden pays closer attention.
MARSDEN
(to Mrs. Trickett)
Your husband's?
MRS. TRICKETT
No, Silly boy. Edwardian architecture.
(MORE)
10.
MRS. TRICKETT (CONT'D)
Brighton is one of his favorite
cities. Rudyard and I used to stroll
arm-in-arm near the Pavilion and
take tea in the gardens. Ah, yes.
The twenties was a marvelous decade.
And the tulips poking their heads up
to witness us English people scurrying
around like rats, rustling through
bins of cabbage and bruised turnips,
hoping to find them free of blemishes…
…turning pointedly to Marsden…
…Dear, do you think it queer for a man to drink sherry?
Camera turns back to Thallus at end of bar. He sits before a
bottle of soda pop.
THALLUS
The fact is Mrs. T never met Kipling.
In fact, Mrs. T was born in 1937, a
full year after Kipling's death.
ANGLE ON Mrs. Trickett lifting her purse into her lap again.
She pulls out a postcard of Victoria with the snowcapped
alps behind it. She hands it to Marsden, who holds it before
him and studies it momentarily.
STEADY CAM on Victoria postcard.
MRS. TRICKETT
Outside Brighton, I'd only live there.
THALLUS
Victoria. Using Kipling's famous
expression…
MRS. TRICKETT
(to Marsden)
Victoria is like Brighton Pavilion
with a backdrop of the Himalayas.
THALLUS
But it isn't that Mrs. T is making
things up. Dyllis, her Christian
name that Geoffrey uses whenever
Mrs. T's gone too far a field
adventure-storytelling, Dyllis knew
every dead celebrity from every time
period in the history of the city.
CLOSEUP - MRS. TRICKETT
THALLUS (CONT'D)
Her gift is recalling random facts:
where the Prince of Wales…
11.
…TAKES A DRINK…
… not that one, silly! George the
Fourth, Georgy Boy, Prinny, the other
bender with a taste for gaudy
architecture and beautiful blonds…
ANGLE ON Mrs. Trickett slapping down a photo of Prince
William on the bar.
… She's oft to repeat how Prinny believed Brighton's waters
cured all kinds of illness, from asthma, cancer, consumption,
deafness, and rheumatism, a claim originally purported in
the statements of a Dr. Richard Russell, another famous man
of Brighton that Dyllis had known whilst still in her early
twenties and had traveled with to the Lake District, despite
the fact that the doctor'd died in the latter part of the
eighteenth century.
ANOTHER ANGLE Marsden, baffled
MRS. TRICKETT
Sherry, dear boy! Pay attention…
MARSDEN
(to Mrs. Trickett)
Sherry?!
ANOTHER ANGLE - GEOFFREY
GEOFFREY
Indeed my dear boy. Mrs. Trickett is
quite right. Sherry is certainly a
lady's drink. Don't you think? I
recall one afternoon not more than
two three months ago a gentleman
dressed in pinstripes, HA! Even his
necktie has pin stripes!
He indicates pinstripes by running his right hand over the
surface of his own necktie two or three times.
CLOSEUP: MARSDEN darting his eyes at the pinstriped trousers
he wears.
GEOFFREY (CONT'D)
Well, this man attempted to sit where
you're sitting at this very moment,
son. I placed my hat on the seat
before he'd further consider such a
transgression.
(pause)
So this gentleman, this dandy fellow,
he finds his way to that table over
there…
Geoffrey indicates the table by lifting his left index finger,
pointing toward the corner.
12.
GEOFFREY (CONT'D)
(in dementia)
I could nearly read his lips if not
for Thomas here. Sherry, he said. I
believe he mumbled something about
strawberries, perhaps he said
brambleberry… Jerry or Mary…
MRS. TRICKETT
Sherry!
GEOFFREY
Maybe he said his name was Terry for
all Dyllis and I know. It wouldn't
be at all odd for a dandy to call
himself Terry.
MRS. TRICKETT
Cheep, cheep, cheep little Terry…
GEOFFREY
Theodore would be his given name,
naturally. I'd prefer Teddy or even
Tad. Oh, really, if one must
circumcise a name so brutally…
Mrs. Trickett's eyebrows rise.
MRS. TRICKETT
(to Marsden)
Yes, dear. Geoffrey is right. I once
had a budgerigar named Terry. But a
man called Terry ordering Sherry.
Sounds like one of those blurry people
to me!
MARSDEN
Blurry people?!
GEOFFREY
One should call oneself Theo. You
know Vincent Van Gogh had a brother
called Theo. I imagine the brother
of a man called Vincent should have
the given name Theodore at the outset
of his life, Theo coming about once
he reaches three years of age, when
he starts to get into all kinds of
random mischief, urinating in broom
closets and the like.
MRS. TRICKETT
Those blurry, agriculture people…
those vagrant types taking over all
sorts of abandoned places and turning
them into greenhouses… blurry, blurry…
13.
GEOFFREY
Oh, Dyllis! You're talking about
those communists again… turning
Brighton's derelict buildings into
some kind of botanical carnival.
MRS. TRICKETT
A noble effort!
GEOFFREY
Rubbish! I've read an article about
them and they're all hooligans on
drugs. Farmers live in the country,
not abandoned warehouses. And their
hair doesn't stand up like an exotic
bird.
MRS. TRICKETT
Little Terry Budgerigar… cheep, cheep,
cheep.
GEOFFREY
Anyhow, Terry, the dandy I was
referring to earlier in our
conversation, Terry proceeds to order
sherry. I did everything not to burst
a seam! Dyllis, don't you think? I
know dear Mrs. Trickett sitting next
to you, son, couldn't imagine ordering
her third sherry. Two is typical for
Mrs. Trickett. Isn't that right
Dyllis?
MRS. TRICKETT
I'll bet one of those blurry people
put a cat on my porch. I only found
a feather or two.
GEOFFREY
Oh, Dyllis!
(pause)
Dear boy, don't mistake my delight
in pinstripes. It was all I could do
to control myself. Imagine, a dandy
in full pin stripes named Terry who
orders sherry.
MRS. TRICKETT
(giggling madly)
Geoffrey!
GEOFFREY
Ha ha hu ha ha! I thought of sending
him a tray of pistachio nuts just to
see his reaction.
(MORE)
14.
GEOFFREY (CONT'D)
Mrs. Trickett despises pistachio
nuts. Isn't that right, Dyllis?
CUT TO:
EXT. BRIGHTON BEACH. DAY
Alongside Thallus's descriptions, we see a seagull above
Brighton Beach.
THALLUS
(v.o.)
Mrs. T has the keenest hearing in
all Brighton. She can hear the first
seagull at daybreak before the lone
bird touches shore.
CUT TO:
INT. MRS. TRICKET'S KITCHEN. AFTERNOON
Thallus in Mrs. Trickett's kitchen, standing next to her
oven smoking a fag.
ANGLE ON Mrs. Trickett opening oven, shoving a roast in. We
hear loud, off screen argument in Japanese.
THALLUS
(next to oven)
Hears scandalous expressions like
Kitzu nao mi lo! Kiss my ass a
common utterance in Japan and part
of regular argument in the tumultuous
lives of the Japanese couple from
Osaka living above her…
Points towards the ceiling.
THALLUS (CONTD) (CONT'D)
…thinks she can translate that the
Japanese brought mercury to the waters
of Brighton Beach…
Louder argument in Japanese from above.
…THAT SUSHI IS A CONSPIRACY…
Argument in Japanese grows louder still.
…and that seaweed will slowly kill you when eaten.
Takes a drag off the fag.
JAPANESE COUPLE
(loudly)
Kitzu nao mi lo!
15.
ANGLE ON Mrs. Trickett placing her purse atop the stove,
opening it, she pulls out an onion.
THALLUS (CONTD)
And Mrs. T can hear the cash drawer
of Young Mr. Fielding's shoe repair,
a shop located just beneath…
(indicates by pointing
downward)
…hears every ring and ding…
(loud ring and ding)
…which reassurances that Young Mr.
Fielding will manage to remain in
business, to feed his three children
and that she, Mrs. T, needn't
needlessly shatter another pair of
square heals across rough
cobblestones…
ANGLE ON Mrs. Trickett scrapping her right heel across the
front step of The Druid.
…in order to generate supplemental income for the Fielding
family. Shoes, she proclaims…
CUT TO:
INT. THE DRUID. SAME TIME
MRS. TRICKETT
(to Marsden)
…Shoes are the keepers of memories,
like Sunday dinners. You put them
on, they tell you where you've been.
You smell the Sunday roast, you're
surrounded with family that have
long since passed.
ANGLE ON THALLUS, END OF BAR
THALLUS
And she knows nothing of the New
Economy. Knows not who to blame for
latest economic trends responsible
for the disappearance of shoe repairs
all across Brighton. Economy, she
proclaims…
ANOTHER ANGLE - Mrs. Trickett and Marsden.
MRS. TRICKETT
(to Marsden)
…Economy is neither new nor is it
old. It's simply corrupt. And if you
don't believe me, go count bottle
caps with that chap in the corner!
16.
ANOTEHR ANGLE Thallus, end of bar, smiling.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. SPORE SQUAT. SHIP STREET. DAY
STEADY CAM
THROUGH SHIP STREET SQUAT. Tattered
revelers in dark quarters camped out
on old sofas. OFFSCREEN SOUNDS of
Pigeons cooing in the rafters. Empty
champagne bottles, glassware, melted
candles.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. THE DRUID. AFTERNOON
THOMAS RETURNS TO BAR and wipes away the ring stain from
under Geoffrey's glass. Geoffrey moves on to Scotch.
GEOFFREY
(to Thomas)
A singular dose of Lophraig 20-Year,
Thomas.
MRS. TRICKETT
(to Marsden)
How odd… How odd that our dear
Geoffrey should mix sweet cider with
our beloved 20-Year Lophraig. Tis' a
rare occasion indeed.
OTTO SPECHTENHAUSER enters The Druid.
STEADY CAM OTTO slowly walking the length of the bar. He is
sixty-nine, blond and white hair, classic German features.
He wears a cap with a patch of the German flag sewn on the
left side, worn brown leather bomber jacket and blue jeans.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. MARIENPLATZ. CENTRAL MUNICH. LATE AFTERNOON (1963)
BLACK AND WHITE FLASHBACK ON OTTOS EARLY LIFE: Streetcar
zooming toward a BEAUTIFUL YOUNG WOMAN and a gold flash of
light as the speeding vehicle runs her down. Crushed beneath
the iron wheels at twenty-six, OTTO'S new bride killed as he
watches from the window of their third story flat.
CUT TO:
INT. THE DRIUID. AS BEFORE
EXTEME CLOSEUP - OTTO
17.
THALLUS
Resident of Brighton forty-four years
and counting, Otto has a sister, a
half-brother, a distant cousin, and
an old friend from university who
remain in the land of eternal
Oktoberfest. Otto longs to return
for one last visit, before he turns
himself over to the hands of time,
commits his ashes to the waves of
Brighton, joining his long-dead new
bride in the ether. For now, he'll
take his second chance at true love…
EXTREME CLOSEUP MRS. TRICKETT
…finally leaping into Mrs. T's open arms. As for Geoffrey:
well, the cruel bastard hasn't a clue that this weekend there
shall be no Sunday supper.
INT. THE DRUID. AS BEFORE
CLOSEUP OTTO, wind blowing through the open door of The
Druid.
OTTO
(to himself)
All memory's erased with the smell
of the sea.
CUT TO:
EXT. BRIGHTON PIER. SAME TIME
STEADY CAM ACROSS BRIGHTON PIER AMUSEMENTS PARK. ANGLE ON
ROLLER COASTER, HELTER SKELTER RIDE, THE GHOST TRAIN, THE
CRAZY MOUSE.
THALLUS STEPS INTO ANGLE ON PIER, the sea expanding behind
him.
THALLUS
An agreement of the whole of Brighton:
that ALL MEMORY IS ERASED WITH THE
SMELL OF THE SEA. Despite the smell
of eels, whelks, oysters, and rubber
clams and their ability to spoil
many a holiday of the unsuspecting…
CUT TO:
18.
INT. SPORE SQUAT. LATE AFTERNOON
MAD HOOLIGAN with shaved head frantically stirring a HUGE
POT in a dark kitchen, a sign WHELKS 'N OYSTERS PUDDING hooked
'round the pot.
CUT TO:
EXT. BRIGHTON PIER. AS BEFORE
THALLUS
…unsuspecting tourists from London
and all the bourgeois regulars who
like to call Brighton getaway, holiday
hot spot, secret rendezvous for tawdry
affairs.
(pause)
WELL…
(takes drag off fag)
…not for much longer.
CUT TO:
INT. THE DRUID. SAME TIME
Otto approaches Mrs. Trickett, who sits before three empty
cordial glasses that she collects like trophies until she's
ready to leave. He takes a seat to her left.
OTTO
Meine Dame, you've finished your
third sherry and normalerweise…
Thallus sits atop the bar at the
deep end, dressed in a black, red,
and gold suit, translating Otto's
German.
THALLUS
Normally. A word the two use in jest
to point out that something, somewhere
in the confines of The Druid is,
most certainly, amiss.
OTTO
Normalerweise would you be well into
the length of the pavement, between
here and your rooms.
(pause)
What, may I ask, meine Dame, is the
occasion this evening? Why do you
insight us in this visage, the
perpetuity of your image?
19.
THALLUS
(nibbling pistachio
nuts)
To everyone who frequents The Druid,
Otto and Mrs. Trickett have become
that obscure object of desire.
Pushes tray of nuts aside.
EXTREME CLOSEUP - GEOFFREY
THALLUS (CONTD) (CONT'D)
The thought of Germans and English
commingling caused Geoffrey to laugh
himself to sleep on more than one
occasion.
Flash on Geoffrey in bed with his eyes shut, laughing. His
wife next to him, jostling, annoyed.
THALLUS (CONTD) (CONT'D)
The thought of an old German gnome
like Otto and a porcelain figurine
like Mrs. Trickett reaffirmed his
belief that the EU is a dastardly
creation. But the EU has nothing to
do with their regular flirtations.
CLOSEUP OTTO AND MRS. TRICKETT
MRS. TRICKETT
My dear Herr Spechtenhauser… I do
believe I have occasion for a fourth
cordial of my most favorite '38
year. You see, Herr Spechtenhauser,
normalerweise would I take to the
footpath and advance on my private
dwelling off the High HighHsdfsStreet.
But today! Oh Today Liebschen! The
stars have converged to usher in a
most peculiar conference of the
dissimilar.
…She cocks her head towards Thallus at the end of the bar,
then raises her glass to Thomas…
You see, Otto, normalerweise our dear Thomas takes his respite
at this very moment. His quiet time, a slice of peaceful
paradise, Downtime, as the younger set call it. But no! Not
today mein Otto. This evening we prepare for a pregnant moon
and already the fruit of this anticipated birth begins to
arrive.
OTTO
What is it you speak? What birth,
dear Dyllis?
20.
MRS. TRICKETT
Didn't you to meet the young gentleman
here not more than a handful of
minutes ago?
She suddenly realizes Marsden is sitting right next to her.
MRS. TRICKETT (CONT'D)
(giddy, to Marsden)
Ho! My dear boy, there you are! You've
grown more handsome already!
(then to Otto)
We'll invite him for Sunday supper.
OTTO
(to Mrs. Trickett)
Yes, all memory comes back with the
smell of Sunday supper.
MRS. TRICKETT
And to this occasion, I've purchased
a beef roast, red jacket potatoes,
nettle tea for dessert.
(pause)
My dear Otto, how long have we know
one another?
OTTO
(lovingly)
Schoen Lang, meine Liebschen. Schoen
Lang…
THALLUS
(gutteral)
…A long time.
CLOSEUP ON - Geoffrey rolling his eyes.
MRS. TRICKETT
(lovingly to Otto)
Then I'd say it's about time I fix
you a Friday supper. We'll not wait
for Sunday. I want you all to myself
tonight.
She takes his hand from the bar into hers.
Quickly shifting her attention.
MRS. TRICKETT (CONT'D)
(whispering)
But first let's see to it that
Geoffrey makes it out of the bar in
one piece.
21.
GEOFFREY
(to Marsden)
My dear boy, despite Mrs. Trickett's
assertions about the economy, we're
tied in. In human life, economics
precedes both politics and culture…
Marsden furrows his brow, paying closer attention.
…For example, if it wasn't for the English the Germans would
be living in the remains of bombed out war bunkers, lawless,
entertained by rats chewing the rotting corpses of their
deceased relatives…
OTTO
Sir Geoffrey, if you'd be so kind to
leave my homeland out of your
discussions…
Geoffrey You see, dear boy, even Mr. Spechtenhauser refuses
to live in Detschland. They're still barbarians over there
despite that they manage to construct a sound automobile.
OTTO (CONT'D)
(getting hot)
Leave it, Geoffrey!
GEOFFREY
(gutteral)
What was that? Ah, yes! Homo-autobahner-
us.
MRS. TRICKETT
Oh, Geoffrey… You jest!
GEOFFREY
(more gutteral)
Homo-sieg-heil-er-us!
OTTO
Bringing Hitler into the tragicomedy
now, are we?
GEOFFREY
(more gutteral)
Homo-Hitler-VW-Bus!
OTTO
(to Marsden)
Son, don't listen too closely to
Geoffrey. Too much sugar makes the
mash go sour…
Marsden looks alarmed.
22.
GEOFFREY
(to Marsden)
Yes, but it takes a German to know
that you can take the sausage out of
the sour kraut, but you can't…
OTTO
(steaming)
That will be enough! You've poked
fun where there's no fun to be had!
You can drink all the Scotch you
wish, Geoffrey. We all know where
you're from. Not even Eastbourne can
to stand the likes of you! I take my
leave!
OTTO GRABS HIS PINT AND CHARGES TOWARDS THE BACK OF THE BAR.
Mrs. Trickett looks longingly in Otto's direction as he
charges away, but then turns back to the bar and signals
Thomas for another cordial.
MRS. TRICKETT
Thomas!
CUT TO:
INT. THE DRUID. MOMENTS LATER
MRS. TRICKETT
(in Otto's direction)
All memory's erased by the smell of
the sea.
CUT TO:
EXT. THE LANES. LATE AFTERNOON
Mildred walking through The Lanes, in the direction of The
Druid. She is confident. She carries a small black leather
suitcase. She is ready for the world.
THALLUS
(v.o.)
You see, the time had come for Mildred
to make the change, to become a new
individual. Tired of the World of
English Expectations, of being denied
the simple pleasure of a cocktail at
The Druid.
CUT TO:
EXT. OUT BACK AT THE DRUID. SAME TIME
THALLUS out back smoking with barkeep Thomas. Thomas looks
up in the sky as the sun sets over the dark buildings.
23.
THALLUS
(speaking to us)
You see, her husband had declared
some ten years prior, that The Druid
was a private affair where he…
Using fingers to indicate quotations.
“…REESTABLISHES HIS SANITY.”
Thomas begins to laugh uncontrollably…
Not once in those ten years had she protested his private
membership among the usual punters and pundits who frequent
The Druid. She knew well that he remained day after day for
two and one-half hours at a time for no other reason than to
escape her company. Not because she is undesirable, but simply
because he's one who likes a slow drink in a low place.
Thomas turns to Thallus.
THOMAS
(nodding head)
YEA, THAT'S RIGHT…
THALLUS Now his beloved, a stranger
to both Marsden and Mrs. T, prepares
the escape of a lifetime. In just
seventy-two hours she intends to
forge across La Manche, to the Port
of Calais, never to return.
CUT TO:
INT. THE DRUID. AFTERNOON
ANGLE ON MARSDEN, GEOFFREY.
GEOFFREY
(to Marsden)
What's brought you to The Druid,
son?
MARSDEN
Lager, or perhaps the stout.
GEOFFREY
Those are byproducts of Thomas'
profession. You know, Thomas is really
a psychoanalyst. Isn't that right,
Thomas?!
Thomas smiles agreeably.
GEOFFREY )CONT'D)
(again to Marsden)
I mean, what is it you seek in
Brighton?
24.
MARSDEN
I'm on my way to university, in
Sussex.
GEOFFREY
Ah, yes. Lovely Sussex University.
My wife attended Sussex. She landed
a stunning post at the Co-op Bank
just a month after leaving her
studies. Worked there years while I
managed properties 'round about
Brighton. Letting flats is tiresome
work…
Mrs. Trickett gives up monitoring Geoffrey in his stupor.
She joins Otto at a small table under an amber tea lamp.
GEOFFREY (CONTD) (CONT'D)
(to Marsden)
… Yes, tiresome work. And she, twenty
years of age. Ripe for picking. But
her mother told her if she reached
twenty-one it'd be beyond the census
age.
MARSDEN
(baffled)
Census age?!
GEOFFREY
My then bride-to-be. And I, new to
the city of Brighton, from a colorless
borough called Eastbourne, I was the
man she'd destined to meet. There
was no other way around it. She's
the most stunning creature in England.
She took my heart the moment I saw
her near the peer, alone, under an
umbrella on the eve of Christmas
Eve. She's still one of the most
stunning creatures in all Brighton.
Marsden orders another pint and makes a go at Geoffrey.
MARSDEN
(to Geoffrey,
deliberately)
Sir, your wife? Will she join you?
Geoffrey puzzles on the question a moment as if to say, Who
is this brazen young man?
GEOFFREY
(in dementia)
Well son, you see, a man like myself
needs a place to go where he can be
(MORE)
25.
GEOFFREY (CONT'D)
alone. I've known Mrs. Trickett years
before either of us began to frequent
this establishment. We had another
one on another block…
MRS. TRICKETT
(from the distance)
That scrumpy pub full with blurry
people.
GEOFFREY
… There we could glimpse the West
Pier before it'd been torched by
those Communists. She used to work
as the chemist's assistant on Yardley
Street. Isn't that right Mrs.
Trickett?
(no response)
Then she worked at the empty bank.
MRS. TRICKETT
(from the distance)
Imperialists!
GEOFFREY
And while I may not be completely
alone you are here, for example,
Thomas is here, all the regular
punters are here every day all the
same I can sit here and know that
nothing will disturb me. Not the
telephone, not the familiar face of
my lover, which reminds me how I
fail her. My solace, I suppose, is
this cider and this scotch…
He runs an index finger over the rim of each glass,as if to
make them sing.
GEOFFREY (CONT'D)
…They bring me a sense of melancholy
and in this feeling I have a piece
of privacy that cannot be disturbed.
You see, it is in this space that I
deposit my homeless thoughts and
emotions and there remaining in a
magic world of their own, they remind
me that I am alive, that I am a man,
that I have a soul. Then, should I
ever feel the need to call upon an
agent of memory with you, son, for
example I simply reach into this
undisturbed bubble and pull forth
that which was dormant, into the
light of awareness like the sunrise.
(MORE)
26.
GEOFFREY (CONT'D)
(pause)
I cannot find this resource at home,
nor can I find it at the seashore. I
find it in this pub and its oxblood
walls, its amber tea lamps, its walnut
paneling. I'll bet you find it morose,
but once I leave this building all
memory fades and I am back on civilian
causeways, with each stride I return
to the world, to my wife, to my life
that is inextricably unified with my
dear Mildred. It is then that I recall
what I have left behind a team of
cosmonauts who fill my afternoons
not with mere libation and
conversation, but with angel fire.
MARSDEN BELCHES, COVERS MOUTH.
GEOFFREY (CONT'D)
You see, Mildred, when she leaves
this world, I shall leave it too.
Hit the high seas and dive to hidden
treasures in the cavity of a ghost
ship from an empire built of stardust
by icicle men. I am here because I
love her. I chart the castle crags
to find a spot on a map that is the
center of love.
Geoffrey takes the last sip of Scotch.
GEOFFREY (CONT'D)
Now, my dear man, I must go to her.
My divine Mildred awaits, virgin
mother of my joy and of my sorrow.
She's finished the shopping by now.
She waits for me and is ready to
uncork the wine for our evening's
supper. Godspeed, my dear boy. Thank
whatever God you choose to worship
that you're not German.
Geoffrey grasps his hat and moves evenly toward the plank
door and into the world beyond it and into his mind's
creation.
MRS. TRICKETT QUICKLY moves back to the bar upon Geoffrey's
exit. She retakes her designated perch.
MRS. TRICKETT
(deliberately to
Marsden)
Don't you mind Geoffrey, my dear
boy. He's a perfectly upright
gentleman, he simply drinks too much.
27.
MARSDEN
I would say he drinks a lot.
Mrs. TRICKETT And I should think his wife has grown tired of
his excesses. I know I have.
MARSDEN (CONT'D)
Then why doesn't he stop?
MRS. TRICKETT
(ignoring the question)
Once he takes to Scotch, he slips
into melancholy. You see, all the
sugar from sweet cider combined with
whiskey creates a sort of morbid,
deranged desire to indulge in one's
inner world, as he calls it, that
which is beyond the reach of
outsiders. Often transcribed in the
combination of metabolic collisions,
cerebral backfiring, the desire to
emphasize the dissimilar.
MARSDEN
What on earth are you talking about?
Mrs. TRICKETT Psychotic rambling! Delusional chitter-chatter!
The macabre imaginings of a lonely man!
MARSDEN (CONT'D)
Sounds like most the world…
MRS. TRICKETT
All sorts of ridiculous gibberish.
Geoffrey's lost his mind on more
than one occasion. But, you're not
to concern yourself…
She stands and knocks back the last of her cordial.
…Oh no! He'll be back again tomorrow! Just you wait and see!
CAMERA PAN through Marsden's eyes as he scans the place and
spots Thallus sitting at a round table chatting up a female
constable.
Mrs. Trickett sits again and signals to Thomas, who turns
from washing glassware to flipping another cordial onto the
bar for Mrs. Trickett. Marsden thumbs through the popular
Time Out magazine.
MRS. TRICKETT (CONT'D)
(suddenly waking up)
They ought to call that guide Out of
Time if you ask me!
Marsden decides to go no further with Mrs. Trickett.
28.
MARSDEN
Thank you for your advice, Mrs.
He pays Thomas for the pints of lager, leaves a tip.
Mrs. Trickett Good luck out there, young man. Brighton's a
beauty and a beast. For you…
Raising her glass one last time.
…May she be your feast!
She signals to Thomas by raising her brow that she's ready
to settle her bill, proceed homeward, away from the now empty
Druid.
MRS. TRICKETT
(to Marsden)
Keep an eye out for those blurry
people! The ones building that Agra-
Urbo something or other.
MARSDEN
Sorry?!
MRS TRICKETT
Agriculturally Urban or something
other. Those Spore creatures out
there. They're building a collective
right here in Brighton.
Marsden shrugs, turns to leave.
ANGLE ON Thomas, who sighs relief that this time of day has
finally arrived, when all the patrons and regulars turn their
attention toward other affairs. He positions a pint glass
beneath the draft arm and prepares to pull a stout for
himself.
Marsden lodges through the plank door, a cool breeze stretches
lavishly through The Druid, reaching Mrs. Trickett's thin
nostrils, which in CLOSEUP quiver in delight with the smell
of the sea.
MRS. TRICKETT
(eyes sparkling)
This is why I love my Brighton-bythe-
Sea.
Thomas nods with her, smiling. She leaves behind a generous
gratuity.
THOMAS
Thanking you kindly, Mrs. Trickett.
She signals to Otto, who reappears from a dark corner.
29.
MRS. TRICKETT
Come, Otto.
OTTO
(barking)
Wwrr-ooof!
MRS. TRICKETT
(animatedly)
Midnight is the full moon, Thomas!
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. ATOP THE DRUID. LATE AFTERNOON
THALLUS, IN PIRATE COAT, perched on the roof of The Druid,
speaking to us.
THALLUS
Mildred's on her way to The Druid.
CUT TO:
EXT. NEAR THE DRUID. SAME TIME
MILDRED APPROACHES THE DRUID.
MARSDEN PROCEEDS AWAY from The Druid and in the direction of
the seashore. Mildred brushes by him. He notices only
slightly.
CUT TO:
EXT. ATOP THE DRUID. SAME TIME
Thallus continues speaking to us from atop The Druid.
THALLUS
She's decided to find out what's so
special about Geoffrey's hiding place.
She knows that by the time she reaches
The Druid Geoffrey will be well inside
the foyer of their apartment house…
CUT TO:
EXT. OUTSIDE APARTMENT HOUSE. SAME TIME
GEOFFREY TURNING KEY in front door.
CUT TO:
30.
EXT. ATOP THE DRUID. SAME TIME
THALLUS
…that she will not encounter him
within and may, if she chooses, order
a drink and contemplate her next
moves in the game of life. Thomas,
as this full moon's eve will have
it, isn't about to enjoy his usual
fifteen-minute respite.
ANGLE THROUGH THALLUSS SHINY GOLD TELESCOPE, a pirate's scan
across the landscape. He holds the telescope spies the action:
ANGLE ON - Marsden walking to the sea; Mildred stepping toward
The Druid; Mrs. Trickett and Otto in sudden about-face,
following Mildred back into The Druid. Mrs. Trickett's
curiosity lights the entry as she and Otto (Otto reluctantly)
step back into The Druid to size up Mildred.
Thomas rolls his eyes but accepts his fate. He prepares to
pour another set of drinks, welcoming Mildred as she pushes
through the plank door, re-welcoming Otto and Mrs. Trickett.
THOMAS
(to Mildred)
Evenin' Madame.
…then to Otto and Mrs. Trickett…
Ladyship Trickett. Governor Spechtenhauser….
Mildred, carrying her small suitcase, approaches the perch
where Geoffrey sits day after day. Otto and Mrs. Trickett
move to the back of the pub to take a tiny table in a dark
corner.
MILDRED
(glowing)
Good evening to you! I should like a
glass of Reisling. Alsatian.
CUT TO:
EXT. BRIGHTON PIER. SAME TIME
THALLUS
Brighton Pier. Not far from Ship
Street, filled with carnival
amusements and battered by rain, the
chill wind, the cold winter sea. A
bastion for criminals and the
middleclass, both relegated to this
scrap heap, its flashing lights and
crumpled ticket stubs.
MARSDEN
Better here than the West Pier?
(MORE)
31.
MARSDEN (CONT'D)
(reading a newspaper
editorial in a display
case on a wall)
“On May 12, 2003, the West Pier was
done in for good. Another fire broke
out on the pier, this time in the
collapsing concert hall. There was
nothing to be done, really, but watch
it all go up in flames. Now there is
really, truly nothing left. The
crumpled, blackened beams and girders
of the old pier look dreadful and
pathetic, and even the knowledge
that the whole thing is due to be
restored does little to assuage the
feeling of loss. I think at this
point, I'd rather see nothing there
than to have to look any longer at
the miserable remains of my beloved
pier.” E.B. Brown, Brighton, UK.
EXT. BRIGHTON PIER. LATE AFTERNOON
THALLUS STANDS at the end of Brighton Pier continuing
descriptions on life around town. He explains what Marsden
sees and while doing so, Marsden catches sight of Thallus on
one of the horses of the Merry-go-Round as it turns. MARSDEN
SHAKES HIS HEAD, the second time he's spotted Thallus.
Marsden's expression reads: Who is that man?
CUT TO:
EXT. GRAND HOTEL. LATE AFTERNOON
ANGLE ON - THALLUS LEANING on The Grand Hotel.
ANOTHER ANGLE SIGN OF THE GRAND HOTEL.
THALLUS
The Grand. Lady Thatcher's favorite,
bombed by the Provisional IRA 12
October, 1984. The Provos, a wholly
different tribe of bandit, not unlike
the sort who torched the West Pier
in the Year of Our Lord 2003.
ANGLE ON SHADOW of burned West Pier.
THALLUS (CONT'D)
But for Marsden who wishes to take
his room just next to The Grand, at
The Granville…
ANOTHER ANGLE SIGN OF THE GRANVILLE.
32.
THALLUS (CONT'D)
(emphatically)
GRAN VILLE!... this Uni boy'll never
see the likes of it…
CUT TO:
INT. GRANVILLE. MARSDEN'S ROOM
THALLUS APPEARS IN ROOM, snatches the chocolate from the
pillow.
THALLUS
A grand hotel itself, with views on
both Piers… But not tonight, not
windows but magic doorways await
dear Marsden.
CUT TO:
EXT. MARINE PARADE. LATE AFTERNOON
MARSDEN ON MARINE PARADE, moving along the boardwalk. Marsden
scans from the sea horizon to the regency terraces, from
hotels and shops along Marine Parade and back to the water,
the crumbling West Pier in the distance. He then looks to
his black leather boots realizing he's left his case at The
Druid.
MARSDEN
(to himself, out loud)
Silly fool! School documents,
passport, phone directory… My future
in a black case…
MARSDEN IN ABOUT-FACE marches back towards The Druid.
STEADY CAM MARSDEN AWAY FROM THE SEA.
COOL BREEZE BLOWS THROUGH THE DRUID as Marsden reenters.
CLOSEUP - THOMAS FACE TOUCHED BY BREEZE. New patrons begin
to arrive. Glow of amber lamps shine brilliant, dusk light
outside fading away.
ANGLE ON - perch where Marsden sat earlier, vacant, forgotten
case beneath.
MARSDEN (CONT'D)
Excuse me, have you seen my case?
Did I happen to leave it behind?
THOMAS
You might have a look where you were
sitting with Lord Geoffrey….
33.
Marsden looks and there it sits, the black leather case with
brass buckles and a leather handle.
MARSDEN
Oh, yes, there it is!
His excitement prods Mildred to pay close attention.
MARSDEN (CONT'D)
Excuse me Madame, I've forgotten my
case. Silly of me.
Marsden reaches for the case, touching the handle.
MILDRED
Why don't you sit. Enjoy yourself.
Have a drink.
She smiles craftily.
MARSDEN
Well, I suppose so.
First speaking in Mildred's direction then toward Mrs.
Trickett, Marsden sees Mrs. Trickett's head appear suddenly
under a dim lamp from the dark corner. Otto's image is but a
dark shadow in the background. She smiles, lips pursed, nods
to encourage him further….
MARSDEN (CONT'D)
I haven't anywhere special to be.
It's awfully lonely out there.
MILDRED
And it only gets lonelier.
Thomas places a doily before Marsden while Marsden settles
on his perch.
THOMAS
Notha' lager, Governor?
MARSDEN
No, no. Actually, something less
bubbly. Perhaps Scotch. Yes, whichever
you served to the gentleman Geoffrey.
Mildred's left brow raises.
MILDRED
My name is Mildred. I live not far
from here, near the sea. Do you come
here often?
Marsden looks confused by Mildred's introduction.
34.
MARSDEN
(hesitating)
My name is Marsden. I've come from
London, for Uni. Sussex…
MILDRED
My Alma Mater!
CUT TO:
INT. MEN'S ROOM. SAME TIME.
ANGLE ON THALLUS at urinal. Thallus takes a drag from a fag
while relieving himself, speaks to us.
THALLUS
Never mind that. Mildred had come to
refer to herself as a 20-30-20 woman.
Not measurements, mind you. A beauty,
indeed, but these figures are ones
she's used to measure…
TIME CUT:
EXT. UNIVERSITY OF SUSSEX CAMPUS. SUNNY DAY.
THALLUS
…where she started… MILDRED ON SCHOOL
CAMPUS in her later teens.
…where she'd been… AN OLDER MILDRED in supermarket, ALONE.
… and where she now intends to go.
TODAY'S MILDRED ON A FERRY across the Channel, WIND LUSHLY
BLOWING HER HAIR AND FACE.
TIME CUT:
EXTREME CLOSEUP MILDRED IN THE DRUID,
NOW
THALLUS
She reminds herself now that at 50,
the blossom is gone…
(pause)
…the stretch to maturity past…
(pause)
… but wisdom has taken root to see
the world with knowing eyes. It is
the ideal time to venture into the
great unknown, even if the great
unknown is merely 170 kilometers
from her place of birth.
ANGLE ON MILDRED AND MARSDEN.
35.
MILDRED
You know, I'm leaving Brighton.
Leaving for the Port of Calais. I've
no idea what awaits me there. But
I've come to a realization: I know I
cannot continue my life here, thirty
years married to the same man, living
in the same flat, eating the same
food. I'm going to disappear. Poof!
The clouds of smoke will rush around
me skyward, dissipate and where I
once stood you'll see only passing
ships on the edge of the event
horizon. My poor dear Geoffrey,
destined to consume tins of corned
beef hash the rest of his days.
(contemplating this)
Ah… he'll be all right!
MARSDEN
Excuse me, madam. You said the name
Geoffrey. There was a man here by
that name just a short while ago.
You're sitting in his place. You
look alike. Do you know him?
MILDRED
Oh yes, you know they say two people
begin to look alike after living
together many years. I believe my
nose has become slightly bent in the
same direction, my lips quiver when
certain thoughts come to mind, my
brow furrowed just like Geoffrey's.
MARSDEN
I didn't mean…
MILDRED
Yes, you've met my husband. But you
mustn't tell him a thing. I've left
him a note telling that the time has
come for me to venture to another
land. Calais!
MARSDEN
You're really going?
MILDRED
This all seems very final. It isn't.
I've signed at the bottom with my
new title, 'Lady of the Port of
Calais.' His first and only clue as
to my whereabouts. If he still has
any fire within him, he'll set out
to find me.
(MORE)
36.
MILDRED (CONT'D)
Over the waters of the English
Channel, no stone unturned, in pursuit
of the fair, vibrant, still voluptuous
'Lady of the Port of Calais.'
MARSDEN
That's quite a bold move…
MILDRED
You mean for someone my age?!
MARSDEN
No, I…
MILDRED
I ought to slap you!
MARSDEN ALARMED.
MILDRED (CONT'D)
I'm only kidding. Relax, dear boy.
It's all for fun now…
MARSDEN
(confused)
FUN…
MILDRED Oh, you probably think I'm
mad. It doesn't matter, everyone in
Brighton is mad. It's the air you
know. All memory vanishes with the
smell of the sea.
MARSDEN
I've heard.
MILDRED
Salt-laden winds blow east and west,
infused with the oiliness of fish
and the grit of sea foam lapping
pebbles on the beach. How long have
you been in Brighton, dear Marsden?
MARSDEN
Three hours, madame. Would you like
another Riesling?
ANGLE ON THALLUS behind bar washing glassware with THOMAS.
MILDRED
Yes, I'd like another. Thank you.
But please don't call me madam. My
name is Mildred.
MARSDEN SIGNALS TO THOMAS, who pulls away from Thallus.
37.
MILDRED (CONT'D)
But do be careful, my dear young
Marsden. Three hours easily turns to
three years in Brighton.
Mrs. Trickett overhears and interrupts.
MRS. TRICKETT
(jeering)
Yes! Look at dear Herr Spechtenhauser.
Celebrating his forty-forth year at
Brighton-by-the-Sea. Isn't that….?
Mrs. Trickett giggles and laughs uncontrollably.
MRS. TRICKETT (CONT'D)
(jeering)
Isn't that right! Otto!
ANGLE ON Otto returning a boisterous, roaring thunder of
laughter, rolling back his head, wide-open mouth flashing
his teeth and the underbrush of his overgrown mustache. Then
immediately ANGLE ON Otto and Mrs. T sharing a longing gaze
into one another's eyes.
CUT TO:
EXT. SHIP STREET. DUSK
Marsden and Mildred laughing arm in arm down the length of a
vacant lane that gently curves into Ship Street. Spore and
the Lunar Party wickedly rages within.
CLOSEUP BALD MAN WITH TRUMPET
BALD MAN
Well come on! They're waitin'!
THALLUS
(v.o.)
LURING THE UNSUSPECTING
FADE UP ON:
EXT. SQUATTED SHIP STREET CO-OP BANK. LATE DUSK.
THALLUS
(leaning on the
building)
This evening Marsden is in for a
deep surprise. Never in all his days
could he imagine falling into the
hands of the likes of Spore:
Brighton's notorious anti-elite
squatter collective. The Spore of
Ship Street catering bandits opposed
to everything reeking of restriction…
38.
ANGLE ON BANDIT CATERERS sneakily running boxes across lane.
The very word Spore - an uncontrollable creation reminded
him of disease, a kind of oozing leprosy bringing dire
consequences to the infected. Spore's Ship Street Squat a
stately Edwardian building of the disused Co-op Bank, panes
of glass that in the sunlight shimmer light blue, yellow,
and orange jewels…
ANGLE ON BUIDLING'S STAINED GLASS WINDOWS.
… panes found in only the finest of buildings the Squat is
the proudest of all squats across the entire rock called
Great Britain, from the northern coast of Scotland to the
southern tip of Dover. Yes, the Ship Street Squat was unlike
any other and its collective squatters, able to maintain
their squatting privileges in the center of Brighton's busiest
shopping arcade, truly held the interest of all the
surrounding businesses employed in the sale of items with
legitimate application.
CUT TO:
INT. CO-OP BANK. DAY. 1953 &
THALLUS
(v.o.)
In its day, the Ship Street Co-op
Bank employed the likes of both Mrs.
T and Mildred, at separate times, of
course. The former…
FLASHBACK TO MRS. TRICKETT in black and white in 1953, nodding
off at a desk with typewriter.
… never rose higher than the typewriter before her desk.
Relying on the savvy business manner of her bottle cap tycoon
husband Edward, Mrs. T didn't give a fig if she was fired.
She never was. She had to quit.
(pause)
But the latter… FLASHBACK TO MILDRED
in dim color in 1979, bustling about
collecting documents.
… in the position of Assistant to the Junior Loan's Clerk, a
post that pleased Geoffrey greatly but, at the core of her
own awareness, caused Mildred turbulent feelings of regret
and frustration. Feelings she never shared with anyone. Her
title
Assistant to the Junior Loan's Clerk made her feel like she
was missing a limb, or had undergone a mastectomy at an
unbearably early age. But to Geoffrey, this is all he'd hoped
for his young bride.
39.
Decidedly but never vocalizing their one set agreement,
Geoffrey and Mildred would never bear children and Mildred's
“Burgeoning career in International Banking,” as Geoffrey
often referred to it, enabled the couple to sustain work in
the professions that child bearing could never afford them.
But what a hole it left…
CUT TO:
INT. THE DRUID. LATE AFTERNOON
MARSDEN
(to Mildred)
You know, I find you quite the
inspiration. Where did you get such
a spirit for adventure?
MILDRED
I've never had it. I simply woke up
and everything in my life looked
differently. I decided quite simply
to say yes to everything. Absolutely
everything.
MARSDEN
But caution's a natural defense, is
it not?
MILDRED
Oh, brother. You are at University.
Caution, being careful and all that,
that's the simplest part of all. I
was already dead. I've got nothing
to fear so I've got nothing to lose.
It's so much easier to say yes,
anyway. Even my dear Geoffrey has a
chance to say yes in this matter.
Calais is just a hundred miles away.
It's not like I'd be impossible to
find. It's a question of his ability…
…she takes a drink, looks around…
…I don't know what in the world he's found so special about
this place. Ten years he's been coming here. I've never set
foot in the place and here I find you. Let's get out of here
and discover a little life!
CUT TO:
INT. GEOFFREY'S APT. NIGHT
Geoffrey at the dining table. Unopened bottle of wine and
one wine glass sit on an empty table. Next to it a golden
envelope.
40.
THALLUS
(v.o.)
In the meantime, Geoffrey's discovered
the changes taking place.
He opens envelope and reads Mildred's message. It reads:
MY DEAREST HEART GEOFFREY,
The day of inevitable change has arrived. Your life and mine
shifting, old habits washed away like the sands of Brighton
Beach. I am leaving our beloved coast to find the other shore.
MY ETERNAL LOVE,
'LADY OF THE PORT OF CALAIS'
(Mildred)
Geoffrey puts the letter down, stares
blankly into the distance. SEVERAL
BEATS. He opens the other envelope
containing the supposed Lotto Ticket,
but finds inside the Chunnel Ticket,
across La Manche. EXTREME CLOSEUP:
GEOFFREY'S BULGING EYES.
ANGLE ON CANDY THE DOG whimpering.
Geoffrey turns and hurriedly picks up the phone and dials.
ON THE OTHER END OF THE LINE…
THOMAS
Druid…
GEOFFREY
Thomas, it's Geoffrey.
THOMAS
Well good evening, Lord Geoffrey.
How are you this evening?
GEOFFREY
You know perfectly well how I am!
Thomas, it's Mildred!
THOMAS
Mildred?! I thought you said your
name was Geoffrey…
GEOFFREY
Stop that, Thomas. My wife, my wife
Mildred!
THOMAS
Mildred? You're dear wife…
41.
GEOFFREY
Yes my dear wife! She's left me!
Thomas, you've got to help me find
her!
THOMAS
Yes, she was here not long ago.
GEOFFREY
What do you mean she was there?!
THOMAS
Here, at our beloved Druid…
GEOFFREY
(look of shock)
Mildred? At The Druid? Tonight?
THOMAS
Yes, this evening.
GEOFFREY
What on earth is happening?
THOMAS
That seems to be the all-important
question…
GEOFFREY
I'm coming right down!
Slams down phone.
CUT TO:
INT. THE DRUID. NIGHT
ANGLE ON Otto and Mrs. Trickett leaving The Druid. Thomas
smiles after them. The place is now full of young, New Economy
twenty and thirty somethings.
CUT TO:
EXT. SHIP STREET. BRIGHTON. ENGLAND. DUSK
Outside Spore Squatt.
MARSDEN
(to Mildred)
That's not the kind of place for
you, Mildred.
Mildred abruptly stops Marsden, yanking his arm.
MILDRED
Suddenly you sound like my husband.
(MORE)
42.
MILDRED (CONT'D)
We're going in. Besides, I used to
work her… a clark for a crooked
stuffed shirt named Mr. Randy. He
drove the bank to bankruptcy. How's
that for irony?
(pauses, smiles)
But it's a lovely old structure…
(pauses, gazes across
its façade)
MARSDEN
But, I've yet to check in at The
Granville…
MILDRED
Rubbish. The Full Moon is no time
for sleep. I'm throwing more than
caution to the wind. I told you I'm
leaving Brighton and you're worried
about sleep. We're going in.
(pause)
Perhaps this is my Bon Voyage
celebration!
MARSDEN
(hesitating)
Are you completely sure?
MILDRED
I'm not sure of anything. I've already
told you I'm leaving for good. Mildred
will become but an indelible ghost
in this town come Monday. Even your
memory of me will fade as trade winds
carry you through to your
destinations. New memories taking
root in that little mind of yours,
and beyond that fat man trumpet.
Behind those walls our host awaits.
This party is given in our honor!
Marsden beams a smile and kisses Mildred on her forehead.
MILDRED (CONT'D)
Come on then, Marsden, we've been
invited to a party!
EXT/INT. SPORE SQUAT. NIGHT
CLOSEUP - THIN MAN DRESSED IN TOP HAT AND TALES.
Marsden and Mildred enter without formality, the thin man
spotting them. He startles them by pointing his two boney
index finger in their faces, commanding them.
43.
THIN MAN
(craftily)
Get a drink!
…he points to a long counter…
The potion's over there!
Music channels through rooms. A crush grooves and mingles
tightly off in the left hall. Wine glasses, chalices, long
cigarettes raised, lowered, bodies shifting. Beams of light -
purple, red, amber shown through thick clouds of smoke and
ghostly candles flickering all 'round. Mildred grasps
Marsden's hand. Together they push through the crowd mods,
punks, girls dressed in long black gowns whose dark deep set
eyes glare.
MARSDEN AND MILDRED PUSH THROUGH THE CROWD to a bar, formerly
bank teller windows. Behind the bar stands a very tall man
with buzzed white hair wearing a black, skintight Lycra suit.
This is THE ATTACHé. He acts with diplomatic candor, directing
new entrants.
Mildred looks amused and Marsden, confused.
ÂBRIKOS APPEARS from behind a wall behind bar. She is as
tall as The Attaché, has no hair and wears a black, skintight
Lycra suit. She has a French-German accent (Alsatian).
ATTACHé signals to Âbrikos.
ATTACHé
(to Âbrikos)
Âbrikos, my sweet, I think they'll
be having two. Wouldn't you say?!
ÂBRIKOS
Drëcket, Attaché. Deux, zwei, two on
the way!
Âbrikos vanishes behind same wall and returns again, producing
two shiny goblets and a large admissions ticket. THE ATTACHé
GRABS the ticket and hands it to Mildred. She takes it and
reads.
MILDRED
Good for Two.
Mildred hands the ticket to Marsden.
MILDRED (CONT'D)
(to Marsden)
Keep this somewhere safe.
MILDRED (CONT'D)
(to Attaché)
What exactly are we drinking?
44.
She raises the goblet to her lips.
ATTACHé
Norfolk Punch!
Mildred takes a drink, then Marsden.
MILDRED
(to Marsden)
'Tis a bit like Jungle Juice, I'd
say.
ATTACHé
(loudly)
For a list of ingredients, please be
so kind as to repeat after me. Alder
Cones.
No response.
LIGHTING A BLOWTORCH, he holds up the bottle and reads.
ATTACHé (CONT'D)
(loudly)
Alder Cones!
MARSDEN & MILDRED
(now laughing)
Alder Cones!
ATTACHé, MILDRED, MARSDEN
(in sequence)
Alehoof! Alehoof! Angel's Root!
Angel's Root! Brambleberry!
Brambleberry! Button Flower!
Buttonflower! Carmichael Seed!
Carmichael Seed! Daisy Teets! - Daisy
Teets!
(Attaché alone)
Dandelion, Dillywack, Elderberry,
Elderfolk, Fallacies, Fancyfools,
Figfoot, Ginger Root, Happy Boots,
Hops 'n Shoots, Lime Tops, Lemondrops,
Liquorice Root, and Leprechauns!
(pause)
Now Together! Samphire! Samphire!
Yesteryear! Yesteryear! Pop Seed!
Poppy Seed! Devil's Weed! Devil's
Weed! Never Again! Never Again!
Once Again! Once Again! Jim, Jiminey,
Missy, Lizzy, Starlight, Starbright,
everything is here tonight! Drink to
me, drink to you and buckle up 'cuz
it's off to the moon for the two 'o
you!
45.
ATTACHé (CONTD)
Now drink! It's time to get on with
'The Time of Our Lives!'
They drink. Then Âbrikos drinks.
ATTACHé (CONT'D)
Bottom's up!
They drink to the bottom.
ALL TOGETHER
Whee-Yoo!
MILDRED
(delirious)
Whew! Devil's brew if I've ever
tasted…
ÂBRIKOS
(to Mildred and Marsden)
Trinka, Frau! Bid you farewell to
what's come before you…
The Attaché pours the last of the bottle into Mildred and
Marsden's goblets. Âbrikos descends below the bar then reascends
to advise them.
ÂBRIKOS (CONT'D)
(speaking pointedly)
Next level, let us say, vanish your
judgments far and away. Follow his
lead in all events, within these
walls, and ever after over them. We
take no prisoners. Spies disappear.
Tomorrow is gone, as was yesteryear.
Erd, Wasser, Fir - Everything is
for the taking.
She descends and The Attaché points with outstretched arm to
the adjoining room. Mildred and Marsden take their goblets
and do as instructed.
The two approach a heaving crowd and at the center of the
large hall, an Indian man dressed in a wispy dhoti appears
in front of them and opens a brass cigarette case filled
with tiny pink tablets. Mildred looks back to where the
Attaché stands but he is gone. She turns to the man and up
pops Âbrikos.
ÂBRIKOS (CONT'D)
These are Vision Pills, you see
through things. To cure all ills,
what the future brings.
(pause)
Please help yourselves.
46.
Mildred reaches in and takes two pills.
MILDRED
Open your hand, Marsden.
Marsden opens his palm and Mildred drops the pill.
MILDRED (CONT'D)
Only with thine eyes, dear Marsden.
Marsden abandons himself and they clink glasses, swallowing
the Vision Pills.THALLUS APPEARS. He wears a black, skintight
Lycra suit.
THALLUS
(to us)
It took no time before Marsden and
Mildred had become separated, each
destined to their own Spore
experiences…
ANGLE ON - MILDRED ON HER OWN, pushes through gyrating crowd.
ANOTHER ANGLE - Mildred at center of crowd gazing on an
INDIAN MAN in lotus posture on floor, his EYES SHUT, GLOWING
LIGHT beams out his open mouth.
ANOTHER ANGLE - MARSDEN WALKING UP DARK STAIRCASE, away from
Mildred, Âbrikos, and The Attaché. A young man in a white
coat and black trousers ominously appears to meet Marsden at
the top of the stairs. He is the same size and height as
Marsden. He takes Marsden by the hand. Marsden is led to a
dressing room where a wardrobe of white coats and black
trousers hangs side-by-side. The young man is PORPOISE.
PORPOISE
(to Marsden)
Call me by my fish name. Porpoise,
let's say.
Marsden steadies himself for a moment by grabbing Porpoise's
shoulder.
PORPOISE (CONT'D)
Please find trousers that fit you.
Jacket size 38, right?
MARSDEN
Right.
Marsden dresses then looks identical to Porpoise.
PORPOISE
Good. You're now ready to meet The
Spawn Party.
47.
Porpoise takes Marsden by the hand again and leads him through
a door to an adjoining room where a group of fifteen young
men. They are each the same size and height as Marsden and
Porpoise. They sit in cane back chairs in a wide circle, all
of them dressed identically in black trousers and white
jackets. At the center of the circle is a cylindrical, glowing
red pedestal. Their jackets glow under black lights. Their
legs are not visible under the black lights.
STEADY CAM PROFILES ONLY OF SPAWN, ALL AROUND THE CIRCLE.
ANGLE ON - PORPOISE AND MARSDEN STANDING.
PORPOISE (CONT'D)
(to group)
Spawn, this is Marsden. Marsden,
take the empty chair.
He takes the empty chair.
PORPOISE (CONT'D)
Lord Burning Sapphire shall arrive
presently.
ANGLE ON THALLUS, SITTING IN THE CIRCLE, dressed like the
others.
THALLUS
(to us)
This is the fancy dress…
He flips his lapel.
…of bandit catering. Steeply discounted items picked up last
week at Smithers' Fancy Dress Going-Out-Of-Business Sale,
Tadbury Lane, three doors 'round the corner from The Druid.
Eighteen sets of black trousers and white coats, eighteen
black bowties and white shirts, black shoes left to the
individual. It was Sapphire's idea to have one additional
outfit for one additional Spawn-recruit.
ANGLE ON MARSDEN, stunned.
THALLUS (CONT'D)
(to us)
Young men mere waifs and strays, on
the streets of Brighton. Their
battered tartans and shoes held
together by duct tape…
ANGLE ON - HIGH PILE in adjoining room, a pile of battered
tartan kilts, leather jackets, Doc Martens held together by
duct tape.
THALLUS (CONT'D)
…now shed for the uniform of bandit
catering.
48.
SAPPHIRE ENTERS. STEADY CAM - SAPPHIRE MOVING THROUGH the
door and into the room. He is dressed in a blinding, fulllength
blue sequin robe. His white hair glows violet under
the black lights. His face is powdered ivory, be speckled
with glints of silver glitter.
THALLUS (CONT'D)
(v.o.)
LORD BURNING SAPPHIRE…
STEADY CAM SAPPHIRES STRIKING FACE.
THALLUS
Clive Calvert, his Christian name,
abandoned after he'd ingested an
actual sapphire gem. The gem, prize
of a notorious jewel heist in nearby
Hove, he'd mistook for a Vision Pill…
swallowing it whole in his already
blissful intoxication.
STEADY CAM SAPPHIRES STRIKING FACE.
THALLUS (CONT'D)
It was then that the Spawn gave him
the name Lord Burning Sapphire.
ANGLE ON - Marsden next to Porpoise.
MARSDEN
(to Porpoise)
I should really be getting back to
my friend Mildred. She's all alone…
PORPOISE
(to Marsden)
There are no shoulds here. She's in
good hands. Maybe several sets of
hands…
Marsden's face expresses shock.
STEADY CAM FULL BODY OF SAPPHIRE moving into center of
circle, stopping at red pillar.
EXTREME CLOSEUP Sapphire's hand on red pillar.
SAPPHIRE
(informally)
Good evening Spawn. Tonight your
birthright is confirmed. Our numbers
expand as we join together under the
leaking roof of our Ship Street Squat.
What started out an experiment in
alternative civilization has now
become an accepted means of existence.
(MORE)
49.
SAPPHIRE (CONT'D)
The police and public officials no
longer pay us any attention; we've
proven nothing other than our peaceful
desire to not participate in the
hoax that proliferates all across
our island. We have gained access to
eighteen additional vacancies
throughout Brighton, Essex, and one
in Hove. May you charge forth
confident that we have, in fact,
won. By our willingness and desire
to cooperate with no one and to give
to everyone, our reach extends beyond
acts of havoc and hooliganism. Our
offerings are simple: catering
services where profits are
untraceable. Our mobility makes us
free; our squatting rights allow us
to build the Agribopolis. Each squat
converted over time to living,
breathing botanical temples. In them
we shall live and in them we shall
grow. These are our services and in
time, as the old system continues
its decline, these musty grottos,
ready to provide the basics of our
existence. Excess will fade from our
consciousness; balance will return
as our only source of subsistence.
Exchange will filter through all
corners of our operations and the
only reward is a sense of spiritual
unity, that we, the center, feed the
center. Tonight you receive the key.
HAZEL COX ENTERS. She has white hair and a shimmering short
silver dress and silver boots up to her kneecaps. In both
hands she holds a glowing yellow box.
SAPPHIRE GRACEFULLY EXTENDS HIS LEFT ARM towards Hazel,
summoning her forward. She enters the circle and places the
box on the glowing red cylindrical pillar in the center of
the circle.
She turns and takes Sapphire by the hand.
PORPOISE STANDS AND APPROACHES THE BOX, removes lid. He
returns to his seat, resting yellow lid on his lap.
Hazel moves towards the box again, then reaches into it,
pulling out a single yellow envelope. She hands it to
Sapphire.
SAPPHIRE (CONT'D)
(to the group)
50.
SPAWN, THE KEY…
He hands the envelope to the first
Spawn in the circle and it is passed
'round 'til it reaches Porpoise at
the other end.
Hazel pulls out another envelope. It is passed around. Then
another, and another… Sapphire distributes all envelopes.
The Spawn sit, waiting for the next signal from Sapphire,
the envelopes glowing in their laps.
Sapphire begins calling out Spawn names one by one, reading
from a scroll. STEADY CAM SPAWN FACES, each youthful but
weathered, gentle, yet determined.
SAPPHIRE
(to Spawn circle)
Kell, Ohno, Billy, Whip, Urchin, St.
James, Lance, Twig, Terry, Spike,
Seed, Julian, Thallus…
EXTREME CLOSEUP THALLUS.
… Culver, Sprout, Ian, Marsden, Porpoise.
ANGLE ON SPAWN COLLECTIVE.
SAPPHIRE (CONT'D)
Tear the envelope. Take the address.
Turn the key. This is 'The Time of
Our Lives.'
Sapphire unhooks the neck of his sequin robe and lets it
fall to the floor. He stands dressed in a black, skintight
Lycra suit. He pulls off his hair, a wig. He shoves the wig
in the glowing yellow box. Sapphire turns to Hazel, steps
out of the puddle of robe around him, kisses her lushly on
the lips, then walks out of the room.
SPAWN OPEN THEIR ENVELOPES.
EXTREME CLOSEUP NOTE CARD AND KEY held in Marsden's right
hand. It reads: 707 Tutwell Court, Hove
DISSOLVE ON:
INT. SPORE. TOP FLOOR GREENHOUSES. NIGHT
ANGLE ON MILDREDS PROFILE AS SHE STEPS INTO A MIRACULOUSLY
VIBRANT SEA OF LUMINESCENT GREEN, lush greenery stretching
across the expansive upper floor of the Spore Squat. Skylights
shown between tracks of artificial plant lighting extend
across the rafters.
ANGLE ON - THALLUS FOLLOWING MILDRED IN, plus two blokes
one dressed in leather braces strapped over his pale, bare
torso and buttoned onto tattered and faded red trousers; the
51.
other bloke dressed in a men's suit plastered with pages out
of comic books, glued to every inch and under the coat a
faded pink shirt with a necktie twisted together from the
dulled-orange front pages of the London Financial Times.
ANGLE ON THE FOUR STANDING BEFORE AGRIBOPOLIS.
THALLUS
All the profits of bandit catering
to make this lush paradise.
MILDRED
(astonished)
But what on earth…
THALLUS
Precisely, madam. WHAT ON - EARTH?
Takes her by the hand and leads her deeper inside.
THALLUS (CONT'D)
We've named it Agribopolis. The start
of something big. Powered by wind,
sun, and a conduit extending from
whirling amusements at Brighton Pier
to converters here. Many more on the
way…
PAUSE.
THALLUS (CONT'D)
At the moment, curly kale, parsley,
red lettuce, cabbage, tomato, soy
bean, onion, garlic, rutabaga, carrot,
turnip, potato, cat nip…
(winks at Mildred)
…PEA, STRAWBERRY, SPINACH…
(lifts up spinach
bunch)
…ORCHID, FERN, ROSE…
PRODUCES A BRIGHT RED ROSE, hands it
to Mildred.
…for you.
MILDRED
(doubt, confusion,
tears)
I… feel such a fool…
THALLUS
I understand, dearest Mildred. Don't
judge yourself. All is for the taking…
52.
MILDRED
But I…
Gently hushes her lips with his fingers…
THALLUS
(sweetly)
It's time to get on with 'The Time
of Our Lives.'
Removes his hand and affectionately kisses her on the lips.
DISSOLVE ON:
EXT. SHIP STREET. NIGHT
GEOFFREY FUMBLES DOWN THE LANE, away from The Druid, spent,
lost.
BALD MAN
(to Geoffrey)
Well, come on!
ANGLE ON - OTTO ESCORTING MRS. TRICKETT homeward through
Ship Street.
ANGLE ON - MILDRED, POPPING OUT FRONT DOOR of Ship Street
Squat for a breather, she looks gloriously renewed. Geoffrey
spots her.
GEOFFREY
(shocked)
Mildred!
MILDRED
(delighted)
Geoffrey!
Geoffrey moves towards her, looks dumbfounded.
GEOFFREY
(shaken)
I…I'VE…
She smiles beautifully.
MILDRED
Why don't you join me for a drink at
my hide out, dear Geoffrey?
They enter hand-in-hand, Geoffrey following Mildred like the
lost soul he now knows himself to be.
ANGLE ON OTTO AND MRS. TRICKETT.
53.
MRS. TRICKETT
(to Otto)
Here's the old bank! Seems some sort
of party, Otto!
BALD MAN
(to Otto and Mrs.
Trickett)
They're waitin' for the two 'a you's!
CUT TO:
INT. TOP FLOOR. SEA OF GREEN. SAME TIME
STEADY CAM PLANTS OF ALL KINDS, growing peacefully within.
A SWEEPING WALTZ SOUNDTRACK BEGINS.
CUT TO:
INT. FIRST FLOOR. SAME TIME
WALTZ SOUNDTRACK CONTINUOUSLY PLAYS while we see the large
room filled with all those inside the Spore Squat. Engulfed
in the sound of sweeping waltz, mixed couples of all styles,
sexes, and differences waltz 'round the room. Mods, punks,
flash-looking types, Goths, girl on girl, boy on boy.
ANGLE ON MILDRED AND GEOFFREY, in elegant waltz.
CUT TO:
INT. TOP FLOOR. SAME TIME
ANGLE ON OTTO AND MRS. TRICKETT, lying together in a bed of
greenery, gazing deeply into one another, eyes sparkling
with love. CAMERA STILL SEVERAL BEATS.
SLOW FADE TO BLACK.
FADE UP ON:
INT/EXT. SHIP STREET SQUAT. FRONT ENTRANCE. DAWN
MARSDEN PEETERS OUT onto Ship Street, dressed as when he
entered the evening before. Shirt open several buttons down,
hair tossed.
We STEADY CAM Marsden all the way to the sea. Along the
boardwalk he spots a café. He takes a seat at an outside
table. Waiter approaches.
WAITER
(to Marsden)
Morning, evening, whatever… Know
what you'd Like?
54.
MARSDEN
(to waiter)
Just a coffee, thanks.
WAITER
Off to Uni, then?
MARSDEN
No. No, not any more.
Waiter turns and walks inside.
MARSDEN (CONT'D)
(to himself)
Not any more.
(pause)
Hove… All roads lead to Hove…
ANGLE ON MARSDEN'S PROFILE AND DISTANT SEA. SEVERAL BEATS.
CUT TO:
EXT. BRIGHTON PIER. SUNRISE
THALLUS
So the tale goes. Another Full Moon
begins another world. This time,
Brighton. Next time…
THOMAS AND THALLUS LAUGHING TOGETHER ON BRIGHTON PIER.
FADE TO BLACK.
BRIGHTON BANDITS
Screenplay by Mark Norby Copyright ©
2014 by Mark Norby Mark Norby CABINET
OF ELIXIRS, LLC 4841 38th Avenue South
Minneapolis, Minnesota
55417
(612) 644-4564
markwnorby@icloud.com
markwnorby@icloud.com
