CROW

 

by

 

David J. Schow

 

with contributions by

 

Caldecot Chubb, Alex Proyas and Brandon Lee

 

Based on the comic book

created, drawn, and written by

James O'Barr

 

September 14, 1992 - Script Draft

=======================================

 

FADE IN:

 

 

EXT. CEMETERY - LATE AFTERNOON

 

BOOM! A crack of lightning illuminates the silhouette of a

perched crow large in the f.g.

 

TIGHT ANGLE - FRESH GRAVE

 

As a spade smooths the walls of a new double-decker plot.

 

DIMITRI (O.S.)

We're losing the light; let's pack

it in.

 

ANGLE - DIMITRI AND ALEXI

 

TWO GRAVEDIGGERS. Scoop digger parked f.g. towering gothic-

style church b.g. Rolls of astro turf. They look up toward

the sky.

 

ALEXI

Snow, maybe?

 

DIMITRI

What, you gonna ski on this?

 

He indicates the mound of fresh dirt. Spits into the grave.

 

DIMITRI (CONT'D)

Come on, let's bag this. It's

beer time.

 

Alexi nods and unfurls the tarp over the dirt.

 

LOW ANGLE TRACKING SHOT - FLOWERS ON GRAVES

 

As we MOVE alongside a pair of canvas-sided combat boots, as the

wearer collects the most lively flowers from each grave in

sequence.

 

TIGHT ANGLE - THE CROW

 

Cemetery DEFOCUSED b.g. Large, glossy-black, the bird follows

the arc of movement in the previous shot. Ruffles its feathers

as it begins to sprinkle rain.

 

ANGLE - ELLY - RESUMING HER MOTION

 

A dirty-blondish tenement KID of eleven, clad in a blend of cast-

offs and hand-me-downs; her version of street punk chic. She

totes a skateboard under one arm (itself a berserk Jackson

Pollock chaos of band stickers, silver marker and graffiti, with

day-glo wheels), and transfers her impromptu bouquet so she may

unzip a flap and hike up a ragged hood against the rain. She

stops to watch the grave diggers pack up and EXIT b.g.

 

ELLY

Guess the picnic got rained out.

 

She looks down o.s. at --

 

ANGLE - SHELLY WEBSTER'S GRAVE

 

as Elly places the gathered flowers down. Almost reverent.

 

RESUME CROW ANGLE - ELLY B.G.

 

as Elly takes a single white rose and places it atop the grave

near Shelly Webster's.

 

ANGLE ON GRAVE - AS ELLY LEAVES

 

TILT UP from rose to the name: ERIC DRAVEN. Rain spatters the

granite, darkening it.

 

EXTREME CLOSE-UP - CROW's EYE

 

It blinks in its alien way.

 

WITH THE CROW

 

as it takes wing from it's unseen perch. Lands stop Eric's

headstone. It pecks tentatively at the top of the monument.

 

ANGLE - ELLY NEAR ERIC'S GRAVE

 

She hasn't gotten too far before she notices the bird.

 

ELLY

Oh, scary.

 

The bird blinks at her from the headstone.

ELLY

What are you, like, the night

watchman?

 

Another blink from El Birdo.

 

CAMERA WITH ELLY - BOOMING BACK HIGH

 

as she exits the iron gates of the cemetery without looking

back. Brutal building facades, like dead eyes, and bad

alleyways, like hungry mouths, are gradually revealed as we

continue PULLING BACK to unveil that the cemetery is smack in

the middle of the city.

 

 

EXT. MAXI-DOGS - TWILIGHT - RAIN CONTINUES

 

CLOSE-UP of a foot-long hot dog being drowned in mustard.

 

MICKEY (O.S.)

What this place needs is a good

natural catastrophe. Earthquake,

tornado...

 

ANGLE - ALBRECHT AND MICKEY

 

ALBRECHT is a black beat cop, 35, in a rain slicker.

 

MICKEY is the grease-aproned entrepreneur of MAXI DOGS, a steamy

open-front fast foodery.

 

ALBRECHT

You gotta put the mustard

underneath first.

 

MICKEY

Maybe a flood, like in the Bible.

 

ALBRECHT

Here, let me do it.

 

He grabs the dog from Mickey. Mickey puffs his cigar while he

cooks. Albrecht methodically spreads a napkin and performs

surgery on the hot dog, coating the bun with mustard, rolling

the dog in the bun. Flashes Mickey a "gimme" look.

 

ALBRECHT

Come on... onion. Don't cheap

out on me. Lotta onions.

 

MOVING ANGLE - AS ELLY SKATEBOARDS TOWARDS MAXI DOGS

 

MICKEY

Heyyy -- it's the Elly monster.

 

ALBRECHT

How do you ride that thing on a

wet street?

 

ELLY

Talent. Hi.

 

ALBRECHT

Care for a hot dog?

 

ELLY

You buying?

 

ALBRECHT

I'm buying.

 

Elly grabs the stool next to Albrecht. They`ve done this routine before.

 

ELLY

No onions though, okay?

 

ALBRECHT

(horror)

No onions?

 

ELLY

They make you fart.

 

Mickey laughs. Spots Elly a Coke.

 

MICKEY

What's goin' on, Elly?

 

ELLY

I went to see a friend of mine.

 

MICKEY

Well, how's your friend?

 

ELLY

She's still dead.

 

Albrecht and Mickey exchange a look re: Elly's matter-of-

factness.

 

 

EXT. CEMETERY - NIGHT (RAIN)

 

Thunder KABOOMS o.s. The crow pecks the top of the stone again

and a chip of granite flies off, bang!

 

EXTREME CLOSE - THE HEADSTONE

 

as the crow pecks again and draws blood from the rock.

 

CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

 

A dot of blood on its ebony beak.

 

LOW ANGLE - HEADSTONE

 

A thin, watery trickle of blood wanders from the top of the

stone towards the earth. Rain does not interfere. Lightning

plays in the rolling cloud cover, b.g.

 

RESUME THE CROW

 

as it takes off from the gravestone, into the rain.

 

CLOSE-UP - THE BLOOD

 

It slowly fills the name Eric Draven into the rock.

 

CLOSE-UP - FOOT TAPPER

 

A LOW ANGLE like the SHOT introducing Elly's boot. This time

we see cowboy boots, leather chaps. The foot taps. Waiting.

 

MEDIUM ANGLE - THE FOOT TAPPER

 

as lightning strikes. Just enough for us to see a figure in a

long duster and a cowboy hat.

 

RESUME ERIC'S HEADSTONE

 

DRAVEN fills with blood. Blood continues groundward.

 

NEW ANGLE - THE FOOT TAPPER

 

Turning to meet FRAME as the crow alights on his outstretched

arm. This is the SKULL COWBOY. We glimpse the deathshead,

beneath the brim of the cowboy hat.

 

RESUME ERIC'S GRAVE

 

as blood trickles into the turf at the base of the grave.

 

TIGHT ANGLE - THE CROW

 

shaking off rain. Watching intently.

 

CLOSE-UP - THE SKULL COWBOY'S FREE HAND

 

Black gloved. It walks a flat silver throwing knife across it's

knuckles, like a quarter somersaulting.

 

RESUME ERIC'S GRAVE

 

The turf stirs beneath the white rose. Magically, a slim white

parts the earth to grasp the rose.

 

SKULL COWBOY POV - ERIC's GRAVE

 

as the figure of Eric Draven stands up from behind his own

headstone.

 

LOW ANGLE (FROM GRAVE) - ERIC

 

Pale. Clad in cerements: cheap black burial suit, slit open in

back. WHite shirt. A nothing tie. No shoes. Rain sluices mud

from his upturned face. He looks to the sky. Lightning.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - FOLLOW ERIC

 

as he weaves to lean against a nearby tree. Looks o.s.

 

ERIC's POV - THE SKULL COWBOY

 

water-blurred, through the rain, standing with the crow perched

on his arm like a hunting falcon. He releases it and it flies

to the tree.

 

ANGLE - ERIC

 

Watching this. Wipes mud from his eyes, tries to clear vision.

The crow lights in the tree and they meet eye-to-eye. Eric

looks back o.s. and we RACK to include the Skull Cowboy.

 

ERIC

What the hell are you?

 

SKULL COWBOY

Interested? Follow the crow.

 

NB. The Skull Cowboy speaks in nicely distorted, buzzlike

charnal house whisper. Unsettling and hackle-raising.

 

Eric turns back to the bird, which takes wing in the rain, His

eyes follow it. He looks back, disoriented, doubtful, but the

Skull Cowboy is gone.

 

LOW DEEP ANGLE - THE CROW

 

Taking wing in the rain, showing the way.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC

 

alone in the cemetery. After a moments hesitation, he lurches

off, following the crow.

 

DISSOLVE TO:

 

 

EXT. ARCADE GAMES SUPPLY OFFICE - NIGHT - TO ESTABLISH:

 

A candy-flaked muscle T-bird is parked at the curb.

 

 

INT. ARCADE GAMES SUPPLY OFFICE - NIGHT

 

A MOVING SHOT during o.s. lines. Past dead video and pinball

devices. Pasta desk with an open briefcase, coffee cup,

ashtray -- someone was just there. Then past a WOMAN, trussed

with duct tape to her office chair, gagged, hot fear in her

darting eyes.

 

COMPLETE CAMERA MOVE to include SKANK, a blade-thin speed freak

with pattern baldness, always loud, jittery, a manic dust puppy.

And T-BIRD, an arrogant Arayan, brush-cut iron pumper, who is

prepping an incendiary. He exhibits a small squeeze bottle of

arson cocktail to Skank.

 

T-BIRD

Uncle T-Bird's 100-proof

accelerator. I squirt you with

this, you could jump in the

Detroit river and burn all the way

to the bottom.

 

INSERT A CLOSE-UP of the bomb in his hands as he works. Silver

canisters, an LED timer, wires.

 

T-BIRD (CONT'D)

You know, Lake Erie actually

caught on fire once, from all the

crap in it. Wish I coulda seen

that.

 

He CLICKS a switch. PEEP. LED countdown blurs.

 

T-BIRD (CONT'D)

We're ready to rock.

 

Skank notices the captive woman's handbag on the floor. Picks

it up. Looks through it for valuables.

 

SKANK

What about working girl?

 

INTERCUT the woman's increasingly horrified reactions.

 

T-BIRD

What about her?

 

SKANK

I say we leave her here to fry,

man.

 

T-Bird looks casually at the woman. Smiles hideously.

 

T-BIRD

No. Let's take her with us.

 

ANGLE - THE WOMAN

 

Her eyes bug in a terrified NO!

 

 

EXT. STREET - MOVING - NIGHT

 

As the T-Bird fishtails wildly around the corner and eats street.

 

 

INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELLING - NIGHT

 

TB drives. One eye on his digital watch (doing an equally

fast countdown). Skank wrestles their captive, the woman, in

the back seat.

 

TB

(pissed off)

Skank, shut her the fuck up!

 

SKank punches her and she sags. Then he looks forward.

 

SKANK

Whoaaa -- T-Bird, red light, red

light!

 

 

EXT. STREET CORNER NEAR MAXI-DOGS - NIGHT

 

As the T-Bird slews wide, cutting sidewalk, scattering

nightwalkers, immediately attracting everybody's attention.

 

ANGLE - ALBRECHT - AT MAXI-DOGS

 

Reacting, with a mouthful.

 

ALBRECHT

Goddammit.

 

Mickey grabs the counter phone instantly.

 

MICKEY

Call it in?

 

Albrecht is off and running for the corner already.

 

ALBRECHT

Yeah, do it!

(to Elly)

Stay right there!

 

HOLD ON MICKEY. He points at Albrecht's hot dog. Yecch.

 

MICKEY

(yelling after)

You want I should save this for

you?

 

 

EXT. MOUTH OF ALLEY ACROSS FROM CEMETERY - NIGHT

 

The car slides to a nose-down panic stop.

 

SKANK (O.S.)

Dump her, man, dump her!

 

The woman comes tumbling from the car, which blasts off with a

war hoop from the guys inside.

 

 

ANGLE - CORNER - ON ALBRECHT

 

Gun out, hauling ass on wet pavement. Aims at the departing

car. Gives it up. Still too far away. Pedestrians in the way.

 

ANGLE - THE WOMAN

 

 

hurting, cut, bleeding, tottering toward the dumpster. Duct tape

stuck to her face but cut away around her mouth. With her as

she falls into the alley darkness... straight into the arms of

 

CLOSE TWO-SHOT - ERIC AND THE WOMAN

 

Their eyes lock. Eric stiffens with his first FLASH.

 

NB: Eric's flashes of past memory are conditioned by the nature

of things with which he makes physical contact. Hints and

fragments in fierce, super-saturated COLOR. Puzzle pieces he

must assemble. Each flash keynoted by a BLOWBACK NOISE and

accompanied by a degree of pain. It hurts to remember.

 

FLASH: INT. T-BIRD - WOMAN'S STRUGGLE

 

The faces of Skank and T-Bird are murky, ephemeral, their voices

hideous, distorted echoes. A knife snaps open. We see the

blade. Blood. Skank hits her, pow! and --

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AND WOMAN

 

An airborne crow POV spiralling up and away from them.

 

MATCH WITH:

 

ANGLE - THE CROW

 

perched on a fire escape, high above, watching and waiting.

 

ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC AND WOMAN

 

She fades. He lets her drop away, horrified. And staggers back

into the cover of the alley. Her blood is on his hands.

 

ANGLE - ALBRECHT RUNNING

 

Skidding in, spotting the woman. Kneeling to her.

 

ALBRECHT

Here now! You're gonna be okay!

Can you understand me? I'm a

police officer...

 

The woman is no longer in pain. Deathly calm now.

 

WOMAN

He touched me and it stopped. The

pain.

 

ALBRECHT

What did you say?

 

 

WOMAN

I saw a ghost...

 

Her eyes roll back and she dies in Albrecht's arms.

 

ALBRECHT

Oh no... don't go, darlin', you

stay with me, now... shit!

 

HIGH ANGLE CROW POV - THE ALLEY

 

BOOMING BACK from Albrecht, the woman, onlookers, as police

units screech up to assist.

 

 

EXT. ALLEY BEHIND ARCADES GAMES SUPPLY HOUSE - ON ERIC - NIGHT

 

Eric in lurching flight, panting. Stops and steadies against

the wall across from the backside of Arcade Games.

 

ANGLE - THE CROW (FLYING)

 

Circling, then lighting on the fire escape above Eric.

 

BACK WINDOWS OF ARCADE GAMES - ("CROWVISION")

 

"CROWVISION" is what the crow "gives" Eric to see. Visually

distinct and immediately identifiable.

 

ERIC'S POV - BACK WINDOWS OF ARCADE GAMES

 

Which he's already seen through the crow's eyes.

 

ANGLE - ERIC

 

looking up at the crow. Disoriented. Doesn't understand.

Suddenly he cottons, and covers his eyes just in time to shield

from:

 

ANGLE - BACK OF ARCADE GAMES

 

The rear windows EXPLODING outward in a spray of fire and

debris.

 

ANGLE - WITH ERIC

 

he reels back, crashes into a dumpster. Falls.

 

ANGLE - THE CROW

 

landing on the dumpsters edge near a pair of discarded combat

boots in the trash. Flames.

 

LOW ANGLE - ERIC

 

The blood from his hands mars his burial shirt. He tears the

shirt away, leaving his tie absurdly intact. Wipes his face

with his shirt. Discards it. Stops, held by his discovery --

 

PUSH IN ON ERIC

 

as his fingers explore the five puckered bullet punctures in his

chest. Almost a circle. Comically, he feels his back foe exit

wounds. Then hauls himself upright, coming level with the crow.

His glance at the bird is almost accusatory.

 

ANGLE - THe CROW

 

Inscrutable. We should get the idea that some silent

communication is taking place.

 

ANGLE - ERIC'S FEET

 

bare, muddied, frozen. TILT to Eric. His gaze moves from the

crow to the boots in the trash. He grabs them, pushes them onto

his bare feet. His eyes catch the firelight. Distant o.s.

SIRENS

 

ERIC

Fire. In the rain.

 

DISSOLVE TO:

 

 

INT. CLUB TRASH - NIGHT

 

We are now within the neon techno-depths of Club Trash. The BG

music is hard, savage, primal: a doom-laden Radio Werewolf band

rules. Cabaret Blitzkrieg, packed with Death-to-Yup

trendazoids. We'll see more of this circus later. Right now

the BG SOUND is our biggest clue to the flavor of this

establishment since we are --

 

TIGHT CLOSE-UP A FRAMED 8X10

 

Thinly filmed in dust, mounted among dozens of other band shots.

Visible among the posed members of a group called Diabolique is

Eric, wielding guitar on the club stage. ND BLUR as people

CROSS FRAME.

 

GRANGE, 45-50, powerful, a seasoned assassin, cruel but loyal.

His facade remains stony as he leads three other men briskly

down the corridor.: NGO NWA, 50ish, clad Chinese gangster style

- white topcoat, white scarf, tinted shades - and two body guards

supplying a power perimeter around him,lean, dark-haired Asian

killers who would gladly die for Ngo Nwa, which they will in

just a minute.

 

They have just passed the Diabolique 8X10. Ngo Nwa's gloved

fingers, in passing, leave little skid tracks in the dust that

clear the eyes of Eric in the photo.

 

As the foursome reaches the DOOR, Grange turns doubtfully --

suspiciously -- to Nwa.

 

NGO NWA

He will see me... unannounced.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - THE DOOR

 

As Grange keys in the enter code the door hisses open. Without

a word, Nwa passes inside and the door is pulled shut in

Grange's face by the Bodyguards, who post themselves to either

side.

 

 

INT. LAO'S NIGHTCLUB OFFICE - NIGHT

 

The door CLOSES and the BG NOISE is GONE. Through a large window

(mirrored on the club side) all sorts of activity is visible

through automatic mini-blinds. A fly-vision bank of 12 TV

monitors is hot with surveillance.

 

LAO, a painfully clean-cut, Armani-clad Asian, impeccable,

almost dashing, but the dynamic here is crystal clear: Nwa is

the King: Lao, the dark prince in this hierarchy.

 

At the desk, Lao is startled from his contemplation of a tiny,

perfect rat skeleton by Ngo Nwa's unheralded entry. The desktop

is bare except for and Arcane Vietnamese fighting knife, half a

meter long with an ideogrammed blade, dramatically positioned

beneath an Artemide lamp. Lao rises and feigns servility.

 

NB: The following exchange will play FAST, and entirely in

VIETNAMESE.

 

LAO

(formal greeting)

 

NWA

(dismissiveness, contempt, then

chastizing anger as:)

 

Nwa INDICATES the blade with some ridicule.

 

LAO

(phony assuagement)

 

NWA

(knows it's bullshit)

 

Lao turns, staring out the blinds, fighting for control. Deep

breath. He turns back to his "master." Nwa gestures broadly at

the oppulent office, indicating that Lao should be grateful, but

is somehow errant

NWA

(respect is required)

 

LAO

(begrudging agreement)

 

Lao sees the blade. An idea. He lifts it reverently, bears it

the Nwa hilt-first in both hands, as if bestowing a thing of

immeasurable worth.

 

NGO NWA

(why give me this?)

 

Nonetheless, Nwa accepts the blade. It gleams. Hypnotic. Even

Nwa has to admire it. Turns it so the blade is pointed at his

sternum. His attitude indicates Lao is too far away to do

anything untoward.

 

LAO

(sinister punchline)

 

Lao spins through the air and HEEL-KICKS the blade THROUGH Nwa's

chest, pinning him to the door. It's over so fast the gasp of

astonishment never escapes Nwa. Lao is much more than merely

treacherous, he is extremely capable.

 

LAO

(in perfect English)

When I spoke of an offering, I

didn't mean an offering to you.

 

 

INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS)

 

Grange, standing out of arm's reach in the corridor, kills both

Bodyguards with a double headshot as they turn in greeting as the

door OPENS.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - CORRIDOR - LAO, GRANGE, AND CORPSES

 

Lao exchanges a look with his right arm; Grange nods

affirmatively.

 

GRANGE

You gonna smoke his bones now, or

however it is you do it?

 

Lao smiles indulgently. He wipes the blood from the blade on

the jacket of his ex-lord. Lao now bows to no one.

 

 

EXT. FIRE ESCAPE - ANOTHER ALLEY - NIGHT

 

Eric, wearing the combat boots, climbs as the crow leads him.

Up. He jams his hand on a rusty wedge of metal. Ouch.

 

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S PALM

 

Blood flows from the gash. He vises his fist shut.

 

ANGLE - ERIC ON FIRE ESCAPE

 

Eye-to-eye with the crow. Opens his hand.

 

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S PALM

 

The blood flows back into the wound, which closes itself,

leaving another scar.

 

ANGLE - ERIC

 

Vising the rail. Speaks to the night. Almost a mantra.

 

ERIC

"My kitten walks on velvet feet,

and makes no sound at all. And in

the doorway nightly sits to watch

the darkness fall. I think

he loves the lady night..."

(to crow)

Am I alive? Am I dead? Something

else? Something in between?

 

CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

 

Inscrutable. No answer here.

 

RESUME ERIC

 

Almost bemused. Steadier. A hint of friendliness.

 

ERIC

Thanks for sharing that.

 

 

ETC. GIDEON`S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

 

As the T-Bird grumbles tp park curbside. Menacing.

 

 

INT. GIDEON'S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

 

A junkyard of loot and dusty discards. Junkie thievings and

other people's stereos. Behind a wire-meshed security counter

GIDEON reads a racing form, chain-smoking throughout the scene. He

is pear-shaped, stubbled, unkempt. Food on his shirt. JINGLE

of doorbells. Gideon lowers his paper to reveal Skank and

T-Bird on approach.

 

 

GIDEON

Ahhh, jesus, the creatures of the

night, here they come. Tweedledum

and Tweedledummer.

 

Skank riles

 

SKANK

Hey, blow me, fat boy!

 

Just as quick, Gideon cocks and levels a Magnum at Skank.

 

GIDEON

Blow yourself, bigmouth.

 

T-BIRD

(interposing)

Whoa, hey, whoa.

(hands up)

Business.

 

He lifts a small carton onto the counter.

 

GIDEON

Whatcha got?

 

NEW ANGLE - COUNTER

 

Transaction time. T-Bird passes items through the screen slot

and Gideon gives each one cursory, doubtful inspection.

 

T-BIRD

Coupla more rings... 24k.

 

GIDEON

18k. Crap.

 

T-BIRD

...necklace... pearls...

 

GIDEON

Nineteen bucks at Sears. Fake,

 

T-BIRD

Leather purse...

 

He hands though the bag rested from the woman.

 

GIDEON

What's this -- a little, ah,

bloodstain, right?

(doesn't matter)

Fifty bucks for the box, and I'm

doin' you a --

 

T-BIRD

Yeah, I know, fatso. Do us all a

favor. Make Top Dollar smile.

 

SKANK

You wouldn't want Top Dollar not

to smile.

 

Mention of Top Dollar clams Gideon efficiently up. He hands

over the cash to T-Bird with a grimace.

 

 

EXT. ROOFTOP - ON ERIC - NIGHT

 

Eric stares upward at the crow as it drops like a bomber from

the night sky, flying past him, skimming the roof, leading him

on. Eric exhales, shrugs, feeling mocked by the bird.

 

ERIC

All right.

 

And he takes off on a run. Only to stumble and fall. But the

falls turns into a TUMBLING ROLL that lands Eric back on his feet

still moving. He looks back as if to ask: "Did I do that?" and

runs out of the frame.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - PICKING UP ERIC ON THE RUN.

 

as he squints towards the crow and does his best to keep up.

TRACK WITH HIM to the edge of the roof, heavily misted in rain.

 

He jumps a negligible gap to the next lower roof. The next

roof-top is a one-story jump down. Eric clears the jump with a

WOOF of air. Keeping his eyes on the flying crow; gaining

strength. His next leap is more like a broad-jump. Athletic.

 

FAST MOVING ANGLE - THE CROW

 

keeping airborne, keeping ahead.

 

MOVING ANGLE - ERIC

 

Eyes confidently on the sky as he arches out into space...

 

UP ANGLE FROM STREET - BUILDINGS

 

As Eric is seen to jump across the gap at least three stories up

where there is no connecting building.

 

CLOSE ANGLE - TARGET BUILDING LEDGE

 

as Eric smashes into it, just missing, hinging at the waist,

grabbing for purchase, suddenly panicked, gravity pulling him

downward.

 

ANGLE - AT ERIC FROM PHONE CABLE BRACKET

 

Eric falls but manages to grab the bracket one-handed. He hangs

for another deadly moment, then slowly, to his own astonishment,

executes a one-handed pull-up that will save his ass.

ERIC

Gotcha.

 

He completes the pull-up, bringing his chin level with the

ledge. As he reaches for it with his other hand the bracket

rips from the wall and Eric plummets, with a howl of defeat.

 

UP ANGLE FROM STREET - ERIC'S DOWNFALL

 

It's a looooooong way down.

 

ANGLE - ALLEYWAY

 

as Eric lands and splits a trash can in two. A beat as we wonder

if any bones are left unpulped. PUSH IN as Eric rolls from

facedown to his back.

 

TIGHT SHOT - ERIC'S FACE

 

as he completes the roll, gasping, amazed he's still in one

piece.

 

ANGLE - TRASHCAN - ON THE CROW

 

It flies easily down to inspect Eric as he slowly sits up,

examining his hands. Frustrated and pissed off.

 

ERIC

Thanks.

 

CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

 

Not "your welcome", but other-worldly patience. It waits.

 

RESUME ERIC

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

Where're we going next -- the

sewer?

 

 

EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT

 

Still, dark silence until Eric lands from ABOVE FRAME, feline.

The crow lands simultaneously b.g., perched near a roof access

door with a shaded, dim-yellow bulb.

 

CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

 

It just blinks at him.

 

 

INT. ABANDONED STAIRWELL - NIGHT

 

as Eric yanks open the rusty rooftop door from the outside and

sweeps down the steps in a swirl of night mist

 

ANGLE - FOOT OF STAIRS

 

Trash and detritus all around, clogging the arteries of the

building, which is old, unoccupied, forsaken. The crow lights

on a scarred banister knob. Eric's footsteps come down into frame.

 

ANGLE ON LOFT DOOR - INCLUDE ERIC

 

A year ago this door was sealed with police barricade tape...

which now sags, faded.

 

A sticker across the jam notifies potential trespassers that

this is -- was -- a crime scene. Eric slows, stops, his hand

on the banister.

 

ANGLE - THE CROW

 

as is wafts ahead of Eric, arriving at the door first.

 

ANGLE ON ERIC, THE DOOR, THE CROW

 

Eric has had enough.

 

ERIC

Are we finished yet?

 

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND ON BANISTER

 

sliding along, as he speaks, until it hits a cigarette burn.

 

PUSH IN ON ERIC - TIGHT

 

stiffening as he suffers his second --

 

FLASH: IMAGES and DIALOG are not linked. A rapidfire MONTAGE set

in the loft, a year earlier (it is decorated for Halloween).

The broken door. The stairwell is filled with cops and cop

noise; lab guys bustle. Albrecht is there, making notes as a

DETECTIVE steps over to him.

 

ALBRECHT

Victim's name is Shelly Webster.

The guy who got tossed is, uh ...--

(checks his notebook)

 

Albrecht grinds out his smoke on the banister.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

RESUME ERIC ON THE STAIRS.

 

He sits down hard, hurting from the flash. His eyes seek the

crow. He completes Albrecht's line:

 

ERIC

"Draven, Eric."

 

 

EXT. THE PIT - NIGHT

 

LOW DOLLY of Elly's little combat boots moving toward the

entryway of the pit. MUSIC gradually UP LOUDER O.s. as she

nears.

 

ANGLE - ELLY IN DOORWAY

 

Luridly-lit. A grown-up's place. A burly BOUNCER appraises

her, his tone jokey. He knows Elly.

 

BOUNCER

Hey! You got any ID?

 

ELLY

Very funny. Ha. Ha. Oh my,

sides.

 

The Bouncer jerks a thumb. Go on in.

 

 

INT. THE PIT - NIGHT

 

A grungy sawdust-floored shot-and-beer joint packed tight

with urban BURNOUTS rushing to drink their lives away. Hammering

MUSIC and rude whorehouse lighting. Each predator straining to

be badder than the next.

 

TRACK THROUGH this maze at Elly's eye level until we reach

DARLA, waitressing her heart out, the drug mileage on her

obvious.

 

ELLY

Mom --?

 

DARLA

I told you you're not supposed

to come in here.

 

ELLY

(a quick lie)

I lost my key.

 

Disgustedly -- goddamn kids -- Darla fishes up a key and slaps

it into Elly's hand.

 

FUNBOY (O.S.)

Hey, Darla -- before we die of old

age, how about it --?

 

DARLA

(to Elly)

Out. Now. I gotta work.

 

RACK PAST Darla and MOVE IN CLOSE on a corner table -- where sit

Funboy, Skank, T-Bird and a black, vested muscle gypsy, TIN-TIN.

 

 

INT. LOFT - NIGHT

 

As Eric shoves the door open from the outside. The lock, popped

from the frame, spins on the wooden floor. The barrier tape

whisps and dust roils. Dark, chilly, damp. A rat's nest of

disuse.

 

PULL BACK THROUGH THE BROKEN PICTURE WINDOW

 

as Eric enters. Glass blown out. Shards poking. Jagged.

 

NEW ANGLE - AS ERIC WALKS IN

 

He scans the loft. Sees reflecting golden eyes near the floor.

 

ERIC'S POV - FLOOR NEAR WINDOW

 

A white, long-haired cat walks into a pool of night light.

 

ANGLE - ERIC AND THE CAT

 

He kneels. Extends his hand. The cat nears; likes Eric.

 

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND.

 

as the cat makes contact. Sudden white jolt - a FLASH.

 

FLASH: we HEAR Eric strumming his Strat o.s. We see what he

saw: Shelly, holding the cat.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

UP ANGLE - ERIC

 

Wincing. Recovering from the flash. He purposefully gathers

the cat into his arms and braces for more, harder, stronger...

 

FLASH: A MAN and a WOMAN make love on a big bed amidst a hundred

points of candlelight. Shelly and Eric, once upon a time.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

 

REVERSE ANGLE FROM BEDROOM DOOR - ON ERIC

 

as the cat, dropped, hits the floor and scrambles out of the way.

 

CLOSE-UP - ERIC

 

vising his head, teary-eyed, his nose bleeding.

 

ERIC

No! Don't look! No! No!

 

He whirls unexpectedly and punches his fist completely through

the masonry wall.

FLASH: Eric and Shelly in a mock waltz. He spins her and they

collapse on the bed.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

ANGLE - ERIC

 

slowly pulling his arm out of the wall.

 

ERIC

(whispering)

Stop it.

 

His eyes roll up and he slumps the length of the door frame like

a drowning man.

 

ANGLE - GABRIEL

 

watching Eric. He hits with an o.s. THUD.

 

 

INT. THE PIT - ON FUNBOY'S TABLE - NIGHT

 

As a gloved hand sets up four bullets next to four shots.

 

FUNBOY (O.S.)

Let's have some fun.

 

Funboy pops the bullet, like a contact capsule and washes it down.

T-Bird turns to Tin-Tin, the new guy.

 

T-BIRD

You first.

 

TIN-TIN

You're outta your fuckin' mind.

 

Into it, almost jazzed, Tin-Tin downs his bullet and shot, and

T-Bird does likewise. Points to Skank.

 

T-BIRD

No. I'm not the lunatic. He is.

 

Skank riles, pulls a huge Auto Mag and sticks it in T-Bird's

face, cocking.

 

SKANK

Fuck you, T-Bird.

 

Just as lightning fast, T-Bird has his own gun out and jammed

right under Skank's jawbone. He makes a kissy face.

 

T-BIRD

I love you too, you madman.

 

They all crack up laughing like ax murderers. Skank drinks,

Tin-Tin spot checks the satchell from Top Dollar's. Darla

delivers more shots and funboy feels her ass.

 

FUNBOY

Hey, pussycat.

 

 

INT. LOFT - DOWN ANGLE (CROW POV) - ERIC ON FLOOR

 

He's awake. Pushes himself up.

 

REVERSE ANGLE - THE CROW

 

Is perched in a dead light fixture, monitoring Eric.

 

ANGLE - ERIC ON FLOOR

 

He's awake. Pushes himself up. Realizes he is in the center of a

faint chalk outline on the hardwood floor. He reaches to touch

the dark stain of old blood.

 

FLASH: Shelly spills into frame, mouth bloodied. T-Bird

instantly on top of her, rough.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

ANGLE - WITH ERIC

 

as he abandons the outline and staggers to the window... where

he cuts open his hand on jags of glass.

 

FLASH: Eric held firm in the grasp of T-Bird and Funboy, one

arm each. Five bloody bullet holes in Eric's chest.

 

The thugs 1-2-3 and hurl Eric backwards through the window,

which shatters.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

ANGLE - ERIC AT THE WINDOW

 

Reeling backward, same trajectory as in the Flash, but toward

the floor, in SLO-MO. Overloaded. Blacking out.

 

AS ERIC FALLS - INTERCUT MONTAGE

 

A jumble of good/bad images from the loft: Tin-Tin embedding a

page of paper in the loft wall with a throwing knife...

Shelly's face as she lights a candle... a POPPING champagne

cork... the echoing CANNONADE of the shots that killed Eric...

Skank backhanding Shelly... Shelly blowing bubbles from a

clawfoot tub full of suds... Eric catching Funboy's first slug

high in the chest... NEW ANGLE of the glass in the window

blowing out as T-Bird and Funboy through Eric through...

 

ANGLE - ERIC'S REAL TIME FALL

 

He plummets to BLACK OUT FRAME. THUMP. Out cold.

 

 

INT. PIT - RESUMING FUNBOY'S TABLE - NIGHT

 

Funboy contemplates his drink as the previous scene reverbs.

 

FUNBOY

More fun than a torture chamber.

 

Tin-Tin's pocket pager goes BEEP and startles them all. Skank

nearly shoots it, jumpy. Tin-Tin pulls back on a black leather

trenchcoat after clicking off the pager.

 

TIN-TIN

I hate this goddamn thing...

 

ANGLE - DARLA watching them from a distance as Tin exits.

 

 

INT. LOFT - FLOOR LEVEL - NIGHT

 

An enormous cockroach trundles past, large in FRAME. RACK to

show Eric lying on floor b.g. as his eyes pop open. A flurry of

dark motion as the crow flies past frame.

 

ANGLE -- THE CROW -- Having snatched the bug in it's beak. Eats

it.

 

ANGLE - ERIC

 

rising from the floor. Careful. Stealthy. Watches his fireplace.

 

ERIC

We have company.

 

ANGLE ON FIREPLACE

 

Huge. Marble. COld. Eric's paper mache masks of Comedy and

Tragedy still hang there. The Skull Cowboy steps out of the

dark and into the vague blue light. Shadowy as ever.

 

SKULL COWBOY

Having fun yet? No?

(beat)

I'll give you a hint. Remember

whatshername?

 

ERIC

Shelly?

 

SKULL COWBOY

Miss her?

 

ERIC

Yes.

 

SKULL COWBOY

Kill the men who killed you both,

and the Day of the Dead will be

your reunion.

 

The Skull Cowboy prestidigitates a flat throwing knife(like Tin-

Tin's). Eric's gaze follow it closely.

 

SKULL COWBOY (CONT'D)

You must use your eyes.

 

He points to the crow.

 

ANGLE - THE COMING KNIFE - ("CROWVISION")

 

Weirdly distorted, a shared vision between Eric and the crow.

 

TIGHT ON ERIC

 

As he DUCKS out of the path of the knife he sees through the

bird's eyes. He rolls.

 

ON THE CROW

 

It hops out of the way as the knife embeds in the wall. Eric's

ROLL finishes him up nearby.

 

ERIC

Goddammit.

 

He grabs for the knife as if to use it on the Skull Cowboy, but

the knife causes an unexpected painful FLASH.

 

FLASH: Eric bouncing off the bedroom doorframe, Tin-Tin's knife

stuck in his shoulder.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

RESUME ERIC

 

vising his head with his hands, in pain. Too much pain.

 

SKULL COWBOY

Get it?

 

ERIC

Leave me alone -- !

 

He looks up, the Skull Cowboy is still there.

 

SKULL COWBOY

(contempt)

Do something about it.

ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AND THE SKULL COWBOY.

 

A horrible beat between them. The Eric runs full tilt across

the room, bounding to the open window and then leaping.

 

ANGLE - SKULL COWBOY

 

as close to surprise as he gets. Steps out to watch as --

 

ANGLE ON WINDOW - ERIC

 

FLIES feet first out into space.

 

CLOSE-UP - BRICKWORK ABOVE WINDOWFRAME

 

Eric's fingers smash into grip the tiny mortared gaps!

 

EXT. LOFT BUILDING - UP ANGLE FROM STREET - NIGHT

 

High above, Eric's feet shoot out the window, knocking loose

stray shards that fall toward frame. He swings into an upside-

down pose, impossibly holding himself rigid against the

building's side, face down. by his quarter-inch finger grip.

 

CLOSE-UP - ERIC

 

Every muscle rigid, quivering with tension. Hold. Then he

relaxes, and swings back inside.

 

 

INT. LOFT - AT WINDOW, PICKING UP ERIC - NIGHT

 

He arches, flips, to land on his feet. The Skull Cowboy is

gone. No knife either. The crow watches. O.S. "meow".

 

ANGLE - WITH ERIC AS HE TURNS TO SEE THE CAT

 

ERIC

I guess I'm not ready to leave...

just yet.

 

He picks up the cat -- wary of flashes, which don't come this

time -- and returns to the window. Feeling safer.

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

The last time we saw each other,

I didn't do so well.

(holds cat up)

Huh, Gabriel?

 

He moves to the fireplace. With his free hand, lifts the

Tragedy mask off its hook. Puzzles it, fact-to-mask.

 

 

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

I bet you need some cat food...

right?

 

 

EXT. STREET - NIGHT -ESTABLISHING:

 

Eric walking, the Tragedy mask hanging from his hip. An

occasional PEDESTRIAN passes without comment, brutalized

by the city. Eric, more confident, smells the night's bouquet.

 

 

EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT ("CROWVISION")

 

Two men around a trashcan fire. We should recognize Tin-Tin by

his black leather trench coat. A wonderfully rude Rap tune, "Got

a White WOman Tied Up In My Closet, Gonna Jab Her With A Stick,"

RAZZLES b.g.

 

 

 

 

EXT. STREET - RESUMING ERIC - NIGHT

 

As Eric reacts to what the crow has just seen. Slows. Stops.

And directs his attention toward the mouth of the alley.

 

 

EXT. ALLEY - TIGHT ON TIN-TIN - NIGHT

 

He pulls the nickel plated revolver from the satchel. FOLLOW as

he hands it across to RATSO, who removes the suitcase-sized boom

box (the source of the music) from his shoulder to accept.

Ratso is a feral skull-head; street trash.

 

TIN-TIN

Three hundred and your a

gunslinger.

 

HIGH ANGLE - TIN-TIN and RATSO

 

As the crow is still watching, yet perched. A brief

shove-and-standoff. The gun deal has gone bad.

 

RATSO

Please, TIn-Tin, you know I'm good

for the money, man, I promise,

Leslie put me up to it, please,

man, don't --

(choking scream)

 

Tin-Tin has just up-rammed a throwing knife into Ratso.

 

TIN-TIN

Ratty -- shut the fuck up.

 

 

Tin-Tin lifts Ratso on the knife, gutting him. Ratso goes

slack, deader'n hell. Tin-Tin reaches around to click OFF

the boom box... then let's Ratso`s corpse fall.

 

ERIC (O.S.)

Another satisfied customer?

 

TIGHT ANGLE - TIN-TIN

 

galvanized by the surprise voice. He automatically draw a

fresh knife from the bandolero of knives across his chest inside

the coat. Can't yet track the source of the voice.

 

TIN-TIN

Who the hell is that?

(beat, venomous)

Come on out man, I won't hurt

you.

 

ANGLE - ERIC IN ALLEY

 

He steps out from behind another flaming trashcan. Wearing a

long black scarf and the Tragedy mask.

 

ERIC

Hello, Tin-Tin.

 

ANGLE ON TIN-TIN - AS HE RISES (FROM RATSO)

 

trying to process what he sees. And cover. And buy time.

 

TIN-TIN

Little early from trick-or-treat,

homie.

(re: Ratso)

This dick trying to bushwack me.

 

ERIC

Murderer.

 

Tin-Tin blows out a breath. No bluff. Time to kill again.

 

TIN-TIN

Guess you got that goddamn right.

 

He shrugs. The shrug becomes the launch of a knife.

 

TIGHT SHOT - MOVING - ERIC

 

His black-gloved hand slaps away the incoming knife and inch from

his nose. It CLATTERS. Eric continues striding toward Tin-TIn.

 

ERIC

Try harder. Try again.

 

 

SHIFTING ANGLE - ERIC NEARS TIN-TIN

 

as Tin-TIn throws another knife. Eric closing in. He claps

hand together, immobilizing the next knife. Opens his hands,

almost an "oops" gesture. Keeps on coming.

 

ANGLE - ERIC AND TIN-TIN

 

As they meet. Tin-Tin attempts a roundhouse. Eric blocks it

and smashes Tin-Tin into the alley wall.

 

ERIC

A year ago. Halloween. A man

and a woman. In a loft. You

helped to murder them.

 

TIN-TIN

Last Halloween, eh? Yeah...

(beat)

Yeah, I remember. I fucked her

too, I think.

 

ERIC

You cut her. You raped her.

(rage)

You watched!

 

TIN-TIN

Hey, I got my rocks off, so

fuck you in the ass, man.

They're face-to-face now, sweaty and tense. Eric peels off

the Tragedy mask.

 

ERIC

I want you to tell me a story, Tin-Tin.

 

TIN-TIN

I don't know you...

 

But, as Eric bears down on Tin-TIn, Tin begins to recognize him.

Fear. Sweat.

 

For the first time, Tin-Tin starts to loose control.

 

TIN-TIN (CONT'D)

Holy shit... you're dead, man...

 

EXTREME CLOSE-UP - ERIC

 

ERIC

Victims. Aren't we all.

 

 

INT. LOFT - NIGHT

 

TIGHT ANGLE - TABLETOP

 

as Eric's hands place Ratso's boom box on the table and click on

suitable weird b.g. MUSIC.

 

ANGLE - FLOOR LEVEL

 

Eric's boots pass frame. An open can of cat food CLANKS down

big in f.g. as Eric walks b.g. obviously wearing Tin-Tin's

trenchcoat. Gabriel noses into to frame to eat from the can.

 

 

INT. LOFT, BEDROOM - NIGHT (LATER)

 

Shelly's vanity. Dusty, disused. The mirror spiderwebbed with

cracks but still hanging precariously in its frame. Eric is

seated, his image crazily split into many. He pulls on a long-

sleeved, tight-knit, black shirt.

 

WIDEN ANGLE to reveal the loft now lit with dozens of candle

stubs. Placed all around. Ceremonial and weird.

 

CLOSE-UP - ERIC

 

ERIC

Halloween is coming. The Day of the Dead...

 

In the mirror, multi Eric's. He touches the glass, tightening up

as he realizes he's in for another --

 

FLASH: Shelly, sleeping on her divan, a year ago, wakes as Eric

(O.S.) says "Boo". She cracks an eye open.

 

SHELLY

Your scary quotient needs work.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AT VANITY

 

Considering old cosmetics. Everything he touches will hurt him.

But he's ready to eat this pain. He grabs a lipstick.

 

FLASH: Shelly at the vanity in happier times

 

SHELLY

I think red's my color, don't you?

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

RESUME ERIC

 

wincing. He drops the lipstick on the floor. Grabs a

hairbrush.

 

FLASH: Eric smashes into the street after his death-fall,

trailing broken glass.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

NEW ANGLE - ERIC AT VANITY

 

Later. He's wearing white pancake makeup on his cheeks. Shaky.

 

FLASH: Eric sucks up Funboy's gunshots in the chest. 1-2-3-4.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

RESUMING ERIC AT VANITY

 

his face a crazy warpaint maze of white streaks, not blended

yet. He looks at his own reflection. In one cracked,

triangular facet of the mirror is not a multiple of his face,

but the Skull Cowboy. Just one.

 

SKULL COWBOY

Glad to see you're finally with

the program.

 

ERIC

Bugger off to the graveyard, skull-

face, I'm busy.

 

SKULL COWBOY

You work for the dead. Forget

that, and you can forget it all.

 

The Cowboy tips his hat and isn't there. Eric sees the crow

perched on the edge of the mirror now.

 

ERIC

Forget this.

 

He smears the streaks until his face is uniformly grave-wave

white.

 

ANGLE - GABRIEL THE CAT

 

coming in to sniff around the clutter at the foot of the vanity.

Eric looks down towards him... and toward the lipstick he dropped.

 

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND

 

as it glides down to pick up the lipstick. CONTACT, and --

 

FLASH: Eric, smashed on the street, T-Bird's car b.g., upside down

in Eric's POV as he rolls over and blood courses from both

corners of his mouth, a definite foreshadow of the "Crow" face.

 

FLASH ENDS.

RESUMING ERIC AT VANITY - TIGHT

 

ERIC

She always red red was her color.

 

EXTREME CLOSE - THE MIRROR

 

We see only a reflected corner of Eric's mouth as he duplicates

the blood trail in red lipstick, making one one half of a crow

harlequin smile.

 

 

 

EXT. LOFT BUILDING - LATER - NIGHT

 

A MEDIUM SHOT as lightning strikes; a storm brews.

 

 

 

 

EXT. LOFT - LATER - NIGHT

 

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S BOOTS

 

crossing the floor. Tin-Tin's knife slotted to the bucklework.

 

CLOSE-UP - VANITY

 

Eric's hands discard a hairbrush there. He moves off.

 

CLOSE-UP - GABRIEL

 

looking up o.s., watching his master stalk around with purpose.

Thunder rumbles long o.s.

 

ANGLE - AT ERIC IN WINDOW FROM OUTSIDE

 

The storm boils. Eric framed in broken window.

 

CLOSER ANGLE - ERIC IN WINDOW

 

Eric all in black, Firm-wrapped. Tight-wired. The trenchcoat

flutters, cloak-like. His shadowy face framed by the upturned

collar, his hair punkish and spiky.

 

SIDE ANGLE - ERIC

 

as he moves forward in the light. The crow lights on his shoulder.

 

ERIC

All right, bad guys...

 

FRONT VIEW - ERIC

 

Full crow regalia. Face makeup streamlined. Eric's eyes flash.

 

 

ERIC

(in drawn out yell)

Here I commme -- !

 

PULL BACK swiftly, vertiginously, as Eric swan dives from the

window, his voice a howl.

 

UP ANGLE FROM STREET - ERIC'S FALL

 

Coat, wing-like. MATCH his dive yell with o.s. crow SCREECH.

SLOW MOTION as Eric fills the frame and we --

 

DISSOLVE TO:

 

 

EXT. ALLEY - WHERE TIN-TIN GOT IT - NIGHT

 

Cop lights bounce, competing with the trash fires. Albrecht and

several other UNIFORMS assess the double-death scene. A

detective, TORRES tries to appear in charge.

 

TORRES

Couldn't have happened to a nicer

couple.

 

ANGLE - ALBRECHT AND TORRES OVER DEAD TIN-TIN

 

Tin-Tin frozen in deathshock, all of his knives sticking out of

him. Dead Ratso, b.g., where he fell.

 

ALBRECHT

Sure it coulda. Funboy's not

here, neither is T-Bird -- none

of Top Dollar's number ones.

 

TORRES

You know, you sure got a hard-on for

a guy that's guilty of zip on

paper. Top Dollar runs Showtime;

what's the matter, don't you like

adult entertainment?

 

ALBRECHT

This sack of shit is called Tin-

Tin.

 

TORRES

Don't any of your little pals have

real, grown up names?

 

ALBRECHT

He was a runner for Top Dollar.

Just muscle.

 

TORRES

Was.

ALBRECHT

(sigh)

This isn't Top Dollar's style

anyway. This was somebody else.

Somebody new.

 

Albrecht lights a fresh smoke. Torres waves the smoke away.

 

TORRES

And you're gonna tell me who.

 

ALBRECHT

Who ever made that.

 

Albrecht points. CAMERA FOLLOWS to wall behind Tin-Tin. A crow

silhouette has been daubed in blood there, now dry.

 

TORRES

What in the hell... do you

call that?

 

ALBRECHT

I call it blood, Detective. If

you want, you can call it graffiti.

 

INT. GIDEON'S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

 

CLOSE-UP of Gideon's thick fingers shuffling grimy currency.

Some scratchy 1920's TUNE plays throughout b.g., like a broadcast

from another time and place.

 

TIGHTER ANGLE - GIDEON

 

looking up at a metallic SOUND, o.s. Irritated.

 

GIDEON

Piss off, we're closed.

 

As the outside security gate rattles, Gideon draws his magnum

and approaches the front door.

 

GIDEON

Fucking creatures of the night;

they never goddamn learn.

 

Sudden surprise as he sees the silhouette of the gate SCREE back

against the frosted glass of the front door.

 

GIDEON (CONT'D)

HEY!!

 

And he hustles to close up the distance between himself and the

door, gun up. Before he can touch the door, the crowbar comes

rocketing through the glass, pegging Gideon in the forehead and

knocking him flat on his ass. He loses the pistol.

Eric walks through the door, causing the fractured glass to

disintegrate around him. He disclaims, thespian.

 

ERIC

"Suddenly I heard a tapping, as of

someone gently rapping, rapping at

my chamber door."

(pause)

You heard me rapping, right?

 

LOW ANGLE - GIDEON ON THE FLOOR

 

reacting to Eric's weird appearance and looking for his gun.

 

GIDEON

Oh, bullshit! You're trespassing

asshole, you're breakin'

and enterin' and you just bought me a

fucking door!

 

During Gideon's rant, Eric brushes glass cubes from his

shoulders, nonplussed. Now he flings Gideon across the room.

 

Gideon crashes into the counter cage. As Eric advances on him:

 

ERIC

I'm looking for something in an

engagement ring. Gold.

 

As Eric comes up behind him, Gideon reaches through the open

cage door and pulls a big combat knife from beneath the counter.

 

GIDEON

You're looking for a coroner,shit-

for-brains!

 

And he tries to nail Eric with the knife.

 

NEW ANGLE - BEHIND GIDEON - AS GIDEON SWINGS

 

No Eric behind him. TILT to reveal Eric hanging off the cage

above Gideon. Eric slams the cage door against Gideon's head.

Drops down like a spider and collects the knife.

 

ERIC

I repeat: a gold engagement ring.

It was pawned here, a year ago, by

another gentleman whose name, I

believe was... "T-Bird"?

 

IN TIGHT ON ERIC AND GIDEON

 

Eric twists Gideon's sail-like shirt and Gideon turns bright red.

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

Cute nickname, don't you think?

 

GIDEON

(gasping)

I ain't got no fuckin' ring.

 

ERIC

Wrong answer.

 

Eric nails Gideon's hand to the counter top. Gideon howls!

 

GIDEON

All's I got is in a box! Behind

the counter!

 

Eric jumps through the cage door. Gideon's eyes bug as he sees

his own pierced hand, immobilized.

 

ANGLE - ON ERIC BEHIND THE COUNTER

 

scans the shelves. Rows of boxed ammo. Kerosene tins. A shotgun.

Knives and assorted knuckle duster curios. And the ring box.

 

CLOSE-UP - THE RING BOX IN ERIC'S HAND.

 

Dozens of gold rings. Eric's fingers sift through them.

 

TIGHTER ON ERIC

 

He brings each ring to his face. INTERCUT with Gideon's feeble

struggles and invective, o.s.

 

ERIC

No... no... no... no...

 

He tosses each rejected ring over his shoulder. Until:

 

CLOSE-UP - THE RING IN ERIC'S HAND

 

Obliterated by a stab of brilliant white light --

 

FLASH: Shelly's face. A perfect vision...

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

RESUMING ERIC

 

He closes his fist tightly around the ring. A moment of

decision. Then he draws the shotgun from beneath the counter.

Uses the butt to knock the knife free of Gideon's hand. It goes

spinning across the countertop. Eric shucks the shotgun and

rams it into Gideon's nose as the big man slumps to the floor.

 

ERIC

Tin-Tin confided in me, before he

ran out of breath. You have one

chance to live.

GIDEON

No fucking way. He'll kill me.

 

ERIC

Who would waste time killing you...

besides me?

 

Gideon sweats, pants, contemplates the hole in his hand.

 

GIDEON

(cowed)

Top Dollar.

 

ERIC

Another jolly nickname?

 

GIDEON

You want those assholes, you want

Top Dollar.

 

ERIC

T-Bird?

 

GIDEON

Like the car. He hangs out with

Skank. that little ass-hair, and

they hang at the Pit -- hell,

Funboy lives there. Ask Top

Dollar.

 

ERIC

A whole club of pirates, with

pirate names...

 

 

Eric seems to go berserk, SMASHING and PUNCTURING cans of

flammables and powder while Gideon flinches, nursing his holed

hand. Blows just miss Gideon's head. Soon he's cowering.

 

LOW ANGLE - ERIC

 

Looking down at Gideon in revulsion.

 

ERIC

You feed off the living.

 

SMASH! as another tin ceases to exist next to Gideon. Then

Eric is gone, past him without further word, ignoring him

entirely. As he exits, shotgun shouldered, he pauses to admire

a white Fender Strat hanging among the pawnables. He reaches

for it.

 

ON GIDEON

 

As he summons some last minute budget bravery.

 

GIDEON

You walk outta here Top Dollar

will erase your ass! Top Dollar

owns the fucking street here and

you can't dick with me, you son of

a bitch!

 

RESUME ERIC - FRAMED IN DOORWAY

 

The guitar now bowslung across his back, the shotgun levelled at

Gideon's position.

 

ERIC

One chance to live. Take it.

 

MOVE IN TIGHT ON GIDEON

 

as he realizes what Eric means. Hauls ass and bangs through the

rear door with a bleat of terror.

 

ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC IN DOOR

 

as he cuts loose with the shotgun.

 

 

EXT. GIDEON'S PAWN SHOP - NIGHT

 

 

as seen from across the street. Eric silhouetted, unmoving as

the whole store front blows hellaciously out around him, raining

glass and debris. Stirring his hair. Eric is the black eye of

the fireball.

 

LOW ANGLE - FRONT OF PAWN SHOP - EMPHASIZE ERIC

 

lit by flames and residual explosions. He hurls the shotgun

into the inferno. Casually brushes flaming/smoking detritus

from his own clothes.

 

ALBRECHT (O.S.)

Don't move! I said don't move.

 

NEW ANGLE - ERIC

 

as he turns slowly, to see Albrecht, out of reach, gun drawn.

Eric's attitude lightens; Albrecht is not the threat here.

 

ERIC

I thought the police always said

"freeze:.

 

Albrecht divides his attention, jumpy, between the odd sight of

Eric (guitar on his back), and the raging instant inferno of

Gideon's.

 

 

ALBRECHT

I'm the police and I say don't

move, Snow White. You're under

arrest; I don't care what else is

wrong with you! You move and

you're dead.

 

Eric has begun to pace towards Albrecht. Palms up. A gesture of

submission. Albrecht's battle calm begins to waiver.

 

ERIC

And I say I'm dead... and I move.

 

ALBRECHT

No further. I'm serious.

 

Eric bows, bringing his forehead in line with the gun's muzzle.

 

ERIC

Then shoot, if you will.

 

TIGHT ANGLE - ALBRECHT

 

He gives it up. Can't shoot. This is too weird for him.

 

ALBRECHT

Are you nuts, walking into a gun?

 

NEW ANGLE - LESS THREATENING - ERIC AND ALBRECHT

 

ERIC

You must listen carefully: the

Fire Department will be here soon.

There is an injured man in the

alley who needs assistance.

(meaningfully)

As Shelly Webster once needed your

assistance, and as you are shortly

going to need my assistance.

 

Albrecht gestures casually, almost comically, with his pointed

gun. B.g., the crow lands on a fire escape to monitor them.

 

ALBRECHT

You wanna run that back for me one

time?

 

SIRENS near, o.s. Eric listens to them, to the night.

 

ERIC

Listen: Top Dollar. He "owns the

street here." He will "erase

my ass."

 

ALBRECHT

You don't say.

 

ERIC

I know Top Dollar has turned your

streets into his hell.

 

ALBRECHT

Fucking A, my friend.

 

ERIC

The others are called Skank, T-

Bird. Street names. Funboy.

(beat)

Watch me, office Albrecht.

 

Eric lifts a chunk of glass from the sidewalk. Slow and easy.

Albrecht doesn't completely trust him. Up comes the gun.

 

ALBRECHT

Watch it...

 

Eric slices open his palm. Blood flows. To his fingertips.

 

NEW ANGLE - ERIC AND ALBRECHT

 

as Eric quickly daubs a crow silhouette in blood on the wall...

then exhibits the gashed hand to Albrecht.

 

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S HAND

 

as the blood retreats and the wound seals itself up.

 

TIGHT ON ALBRECHT

 

and the silhouette. Mouth hangs.

 

ALBRECHT

You're the one who did Tin-Tin...

 

PULL BACK FAST to reveal Eric is gone from the frame. Albrecht does

a quick 180. No Eric. Flashbars from incoming units begin

to bounce red and blue off his face.

 

ALBRECHT (CONT'D)

Great. Good night. Guy shows up

looking like a mime from hell.

(beat)

Least he didn't do that "walking

against the wind" shit; I hate

that.

 

 

EXT. SHOWTIME - NIGHT - TO ESTABLISH.

 

A night-owl pornucopia. T-Bird enters beneath a garish theater

marquee. The 2-bill: RUMP ROMP with BUTTBUSTERS II.

 

INT. SHOWTIME LOBBY - NIGHT

 

T-Bird approaches the snack bar. Wet, breathy mating NOISES

from the auditorium throughout, o.s. Looking supremely bored,

the counterman, DICKEY BIRD, thumbs a porn tabloid. So what.

 

DICKEY BIRD

T-Bird. Thrill me.

 

T-BIRD

Business.

 

T-bird heads left through s steal door that Dickie buzzes

open for him.

 

 

INT. SHOWTIME AUDITORIUM (BACKSTAGE) - NIGHT

 

T-Bird walks past dust-covered boxy black speakers as we glimpse

Lance and Angelique making history in reverse, on the back of the

movie screen: oratoria as good as porn films can make it.

 

PORN QUEEN (O.S.)

I don't know how to describe how

I feel, Lance -- so restless --

 

PORN KING (O.S.)

You're my Moon Queen, Angelique.

 

PORN QUEEN (o.S.)

Oooh -- I want you're rocket right

now in my Sea of Tranquility --

Lance --

 

ANGLE - CATWALK STAIRS

 

As T-Bird approaches, the movie sounds dwindle o.s. He ascends

the skinny metal stairway two steps at a time.

 

ANGLE - STEEL FACED DOOR AT TOP OF STAIRS.

 

As T-Bird nears it, a viewplate SNAPS open to asses him. By

the time he reaches the top, the door unbolts to admit him.

 

 

INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

 

As T-Bird enters. The room is organized around a long meeting

table and flavored with a taste of everything illegal: drug

paraphernalia, weapons.

 

Across the table are a couple of Sentries like the one that

admits T-Bird to the room. TRACK PAST them to a lank-haired

silhouette as he turns away from a windowshade, backlit by

Showtime's exterior neon.

 

This is TOP DOLLAR. Who looks like a Johnny Winter acid

casualty but is deadly cold, definitely the man in charge.

 

TOP DOLLAR

Wild fucking night. I hear our

pal Tin-Tin got himself very dead.

 

T-BIRD

And Gideon's just burned all the

down to the foundation.

 

Top's eyebrows go up. Oh really?

 

T-BIRD (CONT'D)

I didn't have nothin to do with

that.

 

TOP DOLLAR

Bet that pisses you off, right?

 

T-BIRD

Top, what the fuck is going on

tonight?

 

TOP DOLLAR

Stay normal, T. Cops'll be all

hotwired and aggressive. No

combat moves until I check this

out.

 

 

EXT. STREET - NIGHT - (~CROWVISION") HIGH ANGLE

 

Taking in the street, the Pit, and a little girl seated on an

abandoned car.

 

ANGLE - STREET LEVEL - ON ELLY.

 

Seated on the looted wheelless car, playing with a small doll.

 

CLOSER ANGLE - ON ELLY

 

She doesn't notice someone is watching her yet.

 

TIGHT ON DOLL, THEN ELLY

 

She looks up o.s. at Eric, who is still out of the frame.

 

ELLY

What are you supposed to be? A clown?

 

CLOSE-UP - ERIC

 

He smiles for what seems to be the first time. Warm, even past

his crow makeup.

 

ERIC

Sometimes.

 

He glances back and logs the location of the Pit for later, not

in a big hurry just now. Turns back to Elly.

 

WIDE ANGLE - ERIC AND ELLY

 

ELLY

You look like a rock star without a

job.

 

ERIC

I dabble. May I?

 

He indicates the car hood, a "seat" next to Elly from which he

may observe the Pit.

 

ELLY

If you're not some kinda child

molester.

 

Eric looks behind himself. Who, me? Genuinely amused. He

shakes his head no and sits down next to Elly.

 

 

INT. CLUB TRASH - NIGHT

 

The music POUNDS and smoke is everywhere, like incense.

INTERCUTS of the clientele, retro, robotic, clove cigarettes and

rubber clothing; fetish casual wear.

 

ANGLE - TOP DOLLAR

 

right in the center of the noise, looking downscale and dirty

in this milieu.

 

ANGLE - ANOTHER CUSTOMER

 

Passing Top, appraising him, finding him as boring as life

itself. Undertaker chic, she stares at Top.

 

TOP DOLLAR

I thought Halloween was tomorrow

night.

 

An Oriental bodyguard passes him in f.g., motioning to follow.

 

 

INT. LAO'S NIGHTCLUB OFFICE - NIGHT

 

Lao watches club activity on his flybank of TVs. When Top

Dollar shows up at the office door two Sentries try to bar his

passage. He shoves through.

 

 

TOP DOLLAR

Get outta my way, you mooks.

 

Lao's demeanor indicates that they should not kill Top.

 

LAO

An unexpected pleasure.

 

TOP DOLLAR

Bad news. Alot of action on the

streets tonight, and nobody

bothered to clear it with me. Tin-

Tin got himself whacked.

 

LAO

Who got himself what?

 

TOP DOLLAR

One of mine. And it wasn't a

standard hit.

 

LAO

I had heard something like this.

(beat)

Describe it for me. The "hit".

 

TOP DOLLAR

I was wondering if you could tell

me anything... about a wildcat

operative.

 

LAO

I know of no one.

(beat)

But even if there is, I am sure it

is nothing outside your capacity

to deal with?

 

TOP DOLLAR

Anybody violates my turf -- our

turf -- I'll rip out there heart

and show it to 'em.

 

LAO

To be sure. Now tell how your

friend died.

 

 

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE - NIGHT

 

ANNABELLA, a comfortable large, spider-in-the-web deskworker,

sits typing at a terminal. Miked headphone in one ear, police

scanner chatter o.s. She blows and pops a pink bubble of gum.

 

ALBRECHT (O.S.)

Annie?

 

ANGLE - ANNABELLA AND ALBRECHT

 

Albrecht enters frame from across her countertop.

 

ANNABELLA

Whatever it is, the answer's no,

Eddie. I'm too busy tonight.

 

ALBRECHT

Annie, I need a file.

 

There is a desperate edge to Albrecht's voice.

 

ANNABELLA

Speak up.

(beat; her guard up)

Clear it with the Captain if you

need a file.

 

ALBRECHT

This is special, darlin'. Please?

 

Annabella eyes Albrecht doubtfully. Fatalistic sigh.

 

ANNABELLA

Just don't tell me you "owe me

one." What file?

 

ALBRECHT

Double homicide. A year ago.

Las Halloween.

 

 

EXT. STREET NEAR THE PIT - ERIC AND ELLY - NIGHT

 

Still hanging by the car, a bit more familiar with each other

now. A low-slung mirror-windowed LIMOUSINE hisses past them and

curbs across the street from the Pit.

 

ELLY

My mom works over there. I'm

waiting for her, but she's

probably with him, right now.

 

ERIC

Who?

ELLY

Mister Funboy.

 

ERIC

Mister Funboy lives there?

 

 

 

TWO SHOT - ELLY AND ERIC - (PIT B.G.)

 

ELLY

He has a room, upstairs. I don't

like him very much.

 

Elly is not happy about this. B.G. we see Grange get out of the

car, heading to the Pit, and notice in passing a guy with the

white face talking to the little girl down on the block.

 

ELLY (CONT'D)

Can you play that thing or do you

just carry it around everywhere?

 

Elly indicates the guitar strapped to Eric' back.

 

ERIC

I can pick out a tune now

and again.

 

ELLY

Can you play "Teddy Bears' Picnic?"

(re: doll)

It used to be her favorite.

 

ERIC

Does she have a name?

 

ELLY

No name. You sure ask a lot of

questions.

 

Elly HANDS the doll to Eric and he experiences a wholly

unexpected flash.

 

FLASH: Elly and SHelly sitting as SHelly's vanity, goofing with

makeup, test-driving lipstick, the doll visible on the vanity.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

RESUME ERIC - AS THE DOLL DROPS FROM HIS HAND

 

Pain is trying to fight it's way out of Eric in surges.

 

ELLY (OS)

(smart alec)

Hel-lo? Earth to anybody...?

 

Eric snaps out of it. Elly retrieves the doll.

 

ELLY (CONT'D)

Do you feel okay.

 

ERIC

No.

 

ELLY

You gotta go now, I bet.

 

ERIC

I have to go.

 

Half-zomboid, half-determined, he exits.

 

 

INT. PIT - NIGHT - WITH GRANGE

 

As he circulates to the bar, unimpressed. To the bouncer:

 

GRANGE

Top Dollar?

 

BOUNCE

Never heard of him.

 

GRANGE

Funboy?

 

BOUNCER

Oh, prob'ly upstairs bangin'

Darla. Pay for your own beer and

they'll prob'ly be down before you

can drink it.

 

 

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE - OFFICE - NIGHT

 

CLOSE-UP of an 8x10 of the loft slaughter in Albrecht's hands.

Subject: a document pinned to the wall with a knife.

 

ANGLE - ALBRECHT AT DESK.

 

flipping through the file. Smoking.

 

ANGLE - THE 8X10 IN ALBRECHT'S HAND

 

Subject: Eric, dead in the street in front of the loft

building. The blood on his face reminiscent of his crow face.

 

As Albrecht's hand moves the photo we can see in the file

several band shots of Eric as a member of Diabolique...

including the shot on Lao's wall gallery of past performers at

Club Trash.

 

A DOUGHUT on a paper plate suddenly touches down in the middle

of all this research, startling Albrecht.

 

ANGLE - ANNABELLA BEHIND HIM

 

ANNABELLA

Don't thank me. Your ass is

already in enough trouble for this shit.

 

ALBRECHT

I knew that.

 

Albrecht holds a typewritten page closer to the the light.

 

CLOSE-UP DOCUMENT, torn by the knife hole made by Tin-Tin.

 

It reads: We, the Undersigned tenants of 1929 Calderone Court

Apartments...

 

ALBRECHT

Another nice white girl with a

cause. Like a big KICK ME sign.

 

Albrecht takes up and 8x10 of Eric's face.

 

ALBRECHT (CONT'D)

Shelly Webster. And her nice

white boyfriend, Eric Draven.

 

With a felt-tip pen he superimposes the crow smile, like the make-

up, like the blood.

 

ANNABELLA

Your last little wild goose chase

got you busted back to the Beat

Patrol, just like in a bad

detective story, Eddie. Are we

doing the wildgoose thing again?

 

UNDER THIS Albrecht sketches in Eric's spiky Crow hairdo.

 

ALBRECHT

Could be.

 

ANNABELLA

You gonna wind up working at a school

crosswalk. that doughnut's

chocolate you, know.

 

 

PUSH IN on the doctored photo. It's Eric. It's the Crow.

 

PUSH IN on ALbrecht.

 

ALBRECHT

Well, hello there...chocolate,

 

ANNABELLA

Don't thank me.

 

ALBRECHT

Thanks, babe.

 

 

INT. THE PIT (REAR) - ERIC ON FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

 

Climbing. The crow perched on his shoulder. Not in a hurry.

 

ERIC

It's a Raymond Chandler evening

And the pavements are all wet, And

I'm lurking in the shadows, for it

hasn't happened ...

 

TIGHT CLOSE-UP - ERIC

 

Impish. Clown killer.

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

... yet.

 

 

INT. THE PIT - NIGHT

 

Grange at a table. SMoking and waiting. No beer. His back

protected, he is stationed near the fire stair door and has a

good overview of the room.

 

INT. FUNBOY'S ROOM - NIGHT

 

CLOSE-UP of a base pipe being lit and hit hard.

 

 

EXT. THE PIT (REAR) - FIRE ESCAPE - RESUMING ERIC - NIGHT

 

Eric's gloved hand slides sinuously up rusted railing.

 

 

INT. FUNBOY'S ROOM - NIGHT

 

A hypodermic needle rises into frame. A nicotined fingernail

flicks bubbles in the syringe. FOLLOW needle down and BROADEN

ANGLE: Funboy taps up a vein in Darla's arm and shoots her up.

Both are naked in a shabby bed. Bare lightbulb above.

 

DARLA

Ooh, baby -- gimme all of it.

 

CLOSE-UP - THE NEEDLE

 

As the plunger depresses.

 

ANGLE - ON THE WINDOW

 

As the crow quite unexpectedly arrives and perches on the sill,

scaring the shit out of our two dopey friends. Funboy pulls a

giant auto pistol; mock aims, calms down, doesn't fire.

 

DARLA

It's a big fucking bird...

 

She falls back against her pillow, eyes dreamily defocusing.

Funboy giggles. Relaxes the gun, which half-disappears into the

sheets at his side.

 

FUNBOY

It's a squab. Here bird, Here,

birdie...

 

NEW ANGLE - DARLA AND FUNBOY

 

Except that Eric now stands near their bed, across from the

bird's position, the guitar bowslung.

 

ERIC

Here Funboy.

 

Contained panic as Funboy and Darla both startle. The needle

flies and lands at Eric's feet. Empty. Funboy struggles to

maintain against his high.

 

FUNBOY

Oh wow, oh wow, don't fucking do

that, man. I nearly had a fucking

heart attack.

 

DARLA

Fun -- look at that guy...

 

FUNBOY

It's just the dope, don't worry

 

DARLA

Fun, he's not going away; he's

scaring the piss outta me!

 

FUNBOY

Not me.

 

Funboy draws the gun from underneath the sheers. Suddenly he seems

totally focused.

 

FUNBOY (CONT'D)

Time for you to take your bird and

leave, freako.

 

Eric rips open his shirtfront to reveal a circlet of bullet

punctures. This gives Funboy pause.

ERIC

Take your shot funboy. You got

me, dead bang.

 

Funboy tilts the gun off target. Grins as Eric flat handedly

past his chest, indicating where to shoot.

 

FUNBOY

You are seriously fucked up, man.

Just look at yourself.

 

In a blur, he sighs, and shoots Eric through the heart.

 

FUNBOY (CONT'D)

BANG! He shoots, he scores!

 

Then his expression drags a little bit.

 

ANGLE - ERIC

 

Looking down and daubing his hand in the bullet wound on his chest.

 

ERIC

Bull's eye. Good shot.

 

ANGLE - DARLA

 

who starts scrambling to get out. Grabbing clothes on the floor

around herself. she runs right into Eric's outstretched hands.

 

ERIC

Stay.

 

Eric twists her arm.

 

CLOSE-UP - DARLA'S FOREARM.

 

where we may clearly see the needle tracks.

 

UP ANGLE - ERIC

 

ERIC

Morphine is bad for you.

 

He holds her arm captive. Tight, and we PUSH IN CLOSER to see

the dope evacuating from the punctures, a reverse of Eric's,

Blood trail. The dope drips from Darla's arm to the floor.

Darla's eyes roll up into the unconscious. She slumps.

 

ANGLE - ON FUNBOY - GAWPING

 

FUNBOY

How the hell did you do that?

ERIC

Magic.

 

Funboy regards Eric's battlescars and guitar.

 

FUNBOY

Either die or do a solo.

 

Eric looks briefly to his chest wound, wincing. He can't seem

to make it tie off fast enough. He turns his attention back to

Funboy. But his strength is mysteriously ebbing.

 

ERIC

Neither.

 

FUNBOY

Yeah, I got a more fun idea myself.

 

Funboy lashes out and broadsides Eric across the temple with the

gun. Eric falls, rolls back to a stance, but Funboy is right on

top of him, howling like a lunatic and pistol-whipping Eric

relentlessly.

 

FUNBOY

I hate trespassers!

(whack!)

I hate prowlers!

(whack!)

I hate peeping toms!

(whack!)

And right now I hate you!

 

ANGLE - WALL NEAR BATHROOM

 

as Eric, caught off-guard by Funboy's hyper high and weakened by

his wound, comes slamming into the wall, losing his footing.

Here comes Funboy, and we TILT UP from Eric's position as he

looms, cocking the pistol, which now has Eric's blood on it.

 

FUNBOY

Ahh, the hell with it, I still got

five shots left.

 

In a blur, Eric grabs Funboy`s gun hand. Twists to the

crunching of bones. Funboy's skewed-around gun hand blows a

hole in his own thigh. Funboy fall back across the bed.

 

FUNBOY

Owwwaaaa -- fuck me! Look what

you did to my sheets, you lame

piece'a shit! AAAAaa! Goddd!

 

ERIC

Does it hurt?

 

FUNBOY

Does it hurt?! You dead-ass,

clown-faced fuck, of course it

fucking hurts! What the shit are

you gonna do about this?!

 

Eric sits on the bed next to Funboy; inspects the ampule of

morphine on the nightstand, the needle of the syringe already

inserted.

 

ERIC

I have some pain killer right here.

 

And he fills the syringe all the way.

 

ANGLE ON FUNBOY

 

as he begins to see the light. He can't get away. Growing

terror.

 

FUNBOY

No, wait, no WAIT, that's too

much, man, that's like overkill,

nobody can take that much, you're

wasting it -- !

 

ERIC

Your pain ends now.

 

And Eric rams the needle into Funboy's heart, driving home

the full dose. Funboy begins to convulse.

 

Eric falls back on the bed, his force spent. Darla COMES TO in

the corner, shock-traumatized. On O.S. COUGH, and Eric opens

his eyes.

 

The Skull Cowboy, standing in the room, tips his hat.

 

SKULL COWBOY

Howdy

(beat)

You look a mess. Like an ole

cooter dog.

 

TIGHT SHOT - ERIC'S FACE

 

streaked with -- mostly -- his own blood.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - THE SKULL COWBOY AND ERIC

 

SKULL COWBOY

Getting a little ambitious and

extracurricular, aren't we?

 

ERIC

Go away.

 

SKULL COWBOY

You need to learn to mind your own

business or you'll never get where

you think you're going.

 

ERIC

Shut up.

 

SKULL COWBOY

Maybe I was wrong about you.

 

The Skull Cowboy seems saddened or disappointed. All we get is

a little shake of his skull-head.

 

Darla makes a SOUND and Eric turns toward her. She's really

confused. She's looking to Eric for some kind of answer.

 

ERIC

Your daughter is out there, on the

street, waiting for you.

 

She's stunned, utterly speechless. All she can do is look in

Eric's eyes, try to ponder the phantoms there.

 

ERIC

Go. Now.

 

Darla shoves helter-skelter past Eric and out the door without

a glance back at Funboy.

 

Eric, recovering, follows slowly, staring at the open door,

stooping to lift the guitar dropped during the fight with

Funboy. The Skull Cowboy has vanished. PUSH IN. Grimly, Eric

takes a syringe and begins to draw blood from the late Funboy.

 

 

INT. THE PIT - NIGHT

 

As a hastily dressed Darla BANGS out through the fire stair door

behind Grange and FLEES the Pit.

 

BOUNCER

Hey, g'night, Darla.

(to Grange)

That there is Darla.

 

GRANGE

Funboy?

 

Bartender indicates UP with his thumb. Grange moves to the fire

stairs door.

 

 

 

INT. FUNBOY'S ROOM - NIGHT

 

Grange has seen the door ajar and now ENTERS gun-first. Freezes

when he sees:

 

GRANGE POV - FUNBOY

 

Half-sheeted, bloody, a hypo hanging out of his heart.

 

RESUME GRANGE

 

Eyes darting, drawn to --

 

GRANGE'S POV - THE WALL NEAR FUNBOY

 

A crow silhouette spray-painted with a syringe of Funboy's

blood. A thin outline, drippy.

 

RESUME GRANGE

 

whirling with his gun to bring it to bear on --

 

ANGLE - GRANGE SEES THE WINDOW

 

The crow is no longer in the room. Eric is perched on the sill,

guitar and all, looking right at Grange as if waiting from him.

He winks, holds a finger to his lips -- sshh --and jumps out

into the night.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - GRANGE

 

He almost fires, but doesn't. We see instead the priceless

expression on his face as we --

 

CUT TO:

 

 

INT. PRECINCT FOYER - NIGHT

 

Albrecht lights another smoke, quitting for the night. Waves to

the late-working Annabella en route.

 

 

EXT. PRECINCT HOUSE - NIGHT

 

Albrecht hasn't gone three steps before Eric appears behind him,

cat silent, matching pace.

 

NB: Eric has got a new black rock-n-roll shirt on... and a

shell casing from Funboy's gun tied in his hair.

 

ERIC

Freeze.

 

Albrecht startles; drops his file. Nearly draws his gun.

 

ALBRECHT

Jeezus! Don't ever do that, man!

 

Albrecht pants, hysterical but calming down. Eric waits.

 

ALBRECHT (CONT'D)

I told you cops don't say

"freeze".

 

He retrieves Eric's doctored photo from the spill of papers.

 

ALBRECHT (CONT'D)

You, my friend, are dead. I saw

your body. You got buried.

 

ERIC

I saw it, too.

 

Albrecht gathers up the file. Eric stands there. We realize he

is hesitant about touching the file.

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

Walk with me.

 

As Albrecht comes up with the file as they walk.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC AND ALBRECHT ON THE STREET

 

ALBRECHT

You died, man. I can't believe it

but here you are. Last year,

you and your girlfriend --

 

ERIC

I need you to tell me what you

remember. What happened to us?

 

ALBRECHT

You went out the window. She was

beaten and raped. She died in the

hospital.

 

They stop. Eric didn't know this. Fixes Albrecht with a look.

 

ALBRECHT (CONT'D)

Hey, you asked, man.

(beat)

She held on for thirty hours in

intensive care. Hemorrhage,

trauma. He body just finally

gave it up.

(beat; regret)

I saw it and couldn't do jack for

her.

 

Eric has grown increasingly distraught over Albrecht's lines.

Now he turns to Albrecht and, holding Albrecht's temples with

his fingers, puts his thumbs over Albrecht's eyes.

 

TIGHT ON ERIC - ALBRECHT AGAINST WALL

 

We see Eric react to a brutal Flash... but we don't see the

Flash.

 

 

NEW ANGLE - ERIC AND ALBRECHT

 

And Eric tears from Albrecht; staggers back, now holding his own

head. His crow face slacked in realized horror.

 

ALBRECHT

You okay, man? I mean, what just

happened.

 

ERIC

The venom of bad memories. You

were there; you saw her. I saw

you seeing her.

 

Understandable nervous, Albrecht lights up a cigarette.

 

ALBRECHT

You gotta understand -- I was

hoping she'd talk, give me a lead,

a clue, something to work with.

But she only said one thing to me

before she died.

 

Eric lowers his head, penitent.

 

ERIC

My name.

 

ALBRECHT

(fizzles)

I'm sorry as hell, man.

 

ERIC

Thirty hours. A day of life, plus

change...

 

TIGHT TWO-SHOT - ALBRECHT AND ERIC

 

Eric plucks the cigarette from Albrecht's lips, taking a single

contemplative puff from it.

 

ERIC

Halloween is coming, soon. You

will have Top Dollar if you watch

for me at the Showtime, tomorrow night.

 

ALBRECHT

I should be trying to stop you.

 

Eric nods, keeping his eyes on the cigarette.

 

ERIC

Thank you. For giving a damn.

 

ALBRECHT

My pleasure.

ERIC

Don't smoke these.

 

As a bus grumbles past on the street, Eric pitches the butt and

simultaneously ducks out of frame.

 

ANGLE - ALBRECHT TURNS

 

to see a blank building wall. Fire escape. Darkness. No Eric.

He does a full 360 degree turn. Eric is gone again.

 

ALBRECHT

Damn, I wish he wouldn't do that.

 

MOVING ANGLE - FROM BUS ROOF

 

Coat flapping, Eric is standing on the bus roof as the bus moves

away from Albrecht's position.

 

 

INT. LAO NIGHTCLUB OFFICE - NIGHT

 

Lao has the partially disassembled rat skeleton in front of him,

as well as a mortar and pestle with some bits of crushed bone, and

is smoking powdered rat bone in a pipe and Grange reports to

him.

 

GRANGE

The son of a bitch winked at me.

The he jumped. Three stories.

 

Lao seems strangely unaffected by the bizarre nature of Grange's

tale.

 

LAO

Did you see an animal of any kind?

Did you see a bird?

 

GRANGE

(puzzled)

No. I saw a guitar.

(beat; irritated)

This isn't some rock-n-roller

you forgot to pay, is it?

(beat)

There was a drawing on the wall

that looked like a bird. In

blood.

 

Lao's expression is one of sublime content.

 

LAO

Good.

 

Grange

It could've been a chicken...

 

EXT. LIQUOR STORE - NIGHT - ("CROWVISION")

 

A LONG SHOT of the T-Bird parked across the street from the

store as two figures -- T-Bird and Skank -- approach on the

store side.

 

SKANK

I wish to hell I had torched

Gideon's, that fat fuck.

 

T-BIRD

I wish to hell I knew who it was

that made Tin-Tin into a voodoo

doll last night.

 

ANGLE - CLOSER ON T-BIRD AND SKANK - STREET LEVEL

 

They stop walking. Look at each other and sanctimoniously cross

themselves. Tin-Tin's big R.I.P. moment. T-Bird indicates the

liquor store.

 

T-BIRD

We need some smokes and some road

beers.

 

SKANK

Got it.

 

Skank hustles toward the store. T-Bird crosses to the car.

 

ANGLE - T-BIRD - THROUGH CAR WINDOWS

 

WIDEN ANGLE to include the car as he nears it. Behind him, two

12-year-old KIDS, AXEL and CHOPPER, enter the store after Skank,

one wearing a long duster.

 

 

INT. LIQUOR STORE - NIGHT

 

as the KIDS enter and split between the counter and magazine

rack. East Indian CLERK. Two boys fight video game wars in the

corner. Skank browses, grabbing odds and ends.

 

 

EXT. STREET / INT. CAR - LOWER ANGLE - NIGHT

 

as T-Bird climbs in, digs the last cigarette from his pack,

snaps his Zippo and in the sudden orange light, sees:

 

 

INSERT - REARVIEW MIRROR

 

Eric's purloined Strat in the back sear reflecting the light.

 

 

ANGLE - T-BIRD

 

He tries to spin and draw his gun but Eric is upon him, nestling

one of Tin-Tin's throwing knives right inside T-Bird's ear.

T-BIRD

What the fuck are you supposed to

be, man?!

 

INSERTS: Eric liberates T-Bird's automatic from the shoulder

holster; Eric's hand closes T-Bird's door for him.

 

ERIC

I'm your passenger. You drive.

And stop talking.

 

TIGHT ANGLE - T-BIRD'S HANDS

 

on ignition key and gearshift, making ready. As ordered.

 

 

INT. LIQUOR STORE - ON SKANK AT COUNTER - NIGHT

 

He looks outside and sees Eric as the car fires up, pipes and

glasspacks grumbling. Skank moves, BRISTLING.

 

SKANK

What's all this happy horseshit?

 

And the car peels out maniacally! Skank tries to pursue -- but

the two KIDS draw weapons and freeze everyone in the store.

 

AXEL

Alright, alright, alright --

everybody be cool and stay exactly

where you are.

 

Chopper hustles up to the counter and relieves Skank of a

gigantic Auto Mag.

 

CHOPPER

Whooooa, cowboy! Cool gun.

 

Off Skank's look of total outfoxed disgust.--

 

 

INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELING FAST - NIGHT

 

Vertiginous windshield POV of onrushing street, highspeed.

 

ERIC (O.S.)

Faster, T-Bird. Faster. You're

a hell of a wheelman; you know you

can drive faster.

 

 

ANGLE - ERIC AND T-BIRD

 

Eric now holds T-Bird's own gun on him. Eyes locked on T-Bird.

T-Bird's jump between Eric's nightmare visage and the roadway.

 

T-BIRD

You call it, blood -- you got the

gun. You just tell me where you want

to go.

 

Clearly T-Bird would relish bisecting Eric with a meat cleaver

as he says this. He's nervous and needs to hold the road.

 

ERIC

That's good. We're going

someplace you've never been

before.

 

 

EXT. STREET - HIGH ANGLE ON T-BIRD - NIGHT

 

as the car burns up the obstacle course of pavement, kicking

wake of litter. PEDESTRIANS scurry to clear the way.

 

 

INT. POLICE CRUISER - NIGHT

 

Parked in an alley, facing the street. Two cops work on large

styro cups of steaming coffee. MJ (driver) and SPEEG.

 

MJ

Smells like rain.

 

SPEEG

Smells like a septic tank. You

got that cream stuff?

 

MJ

In the bag.

 

Speeg rummages inside the takeout bag.

 

SPEEG

I hate this cream stuff. They

can't even call it cream, legally.

 

They snap to as the T-Bird blazes past, doing ninety.

 

MJ

What in the crap?

 

MJ floors the pedal, drenching Speeg in coffee on takeoff.

 

SPEEG

Ow! Owowoowowoowo, goddammit!

 

EXT. STREET - ON ALLEY - NIGHT

 

as the cruiser roars out to give chase.

 

 

INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELLING FAST - NIGHT

 

Eric lends the chase car a backward look.

 

ERIC

You caught one. Drive faster.

 

T-BIRD

Man, you gonna get us killed dead

and I don't even know what you

want!

 

Eric cocks T_Bird's pistol and levels it at his face.

 

ERIC

I want you to stop talking. And

drive. Drive faster.

 

Eric rifles the glove box, tossing items out the window: clips

for the gun. Sunglasses. A giant dildo (brief eyebrows-up to

T-Bird). Then: a roll of (previously established) gaffer's

tape. What Eric needs.

 

ANGLE - T-BIRD AND REARVIEW MIRROR

 

as he sees a second cop car join the high speed pursuit,

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

You're very popular. Thought

you could handle this thing.

 

T-Bird macho calcifies. He's going to win.

 

T-BIRD

To hell with you.

 

ERIC

(wry)

Naturally.

 

INSERT - SPEEDOMETER

 

Climbing swiftly toward the 100 mark.

 

 

EXT. CITY STREETS - VARIOUS ANGLES - THE CHASE - NIGHT

 

A 3-way pursuit until the T-Bird reaches the outskirts of the

city.

 

 

EXT. DOCKSIDE STREET - NIGHT

 

All quiet... until the T-Bird ZOOMS past frame. The lead cop

tries to duplicate the T-Bird's corner-cut and starts spinning.

It clips a light pole. Rebounds into the path of MJ's unit.

 

 

INT. POLICE CRUISER - ON SPEEG AND MJ - TRAVELING - NIGHT

 

as MJ stands on the brakes. Collision imminent. They howl.

 

 

EXT. DOCKSIDE STREET - NIGHT

 

as MJ's unit broadsides the first cop car.

 

 

EXT. DETROIT RIVER SHIPYARD - NIGHT

 

The T-bird careens through dockside silence, alone, then

fishtails, SCREECHING, to a lung-compressing halt.

 

 

INT. T-BIRD - ON ERIC AND T-BIRD - NIGHT

 

T-bird respirating like a jackhammer. Eric holds stoic.

 

T-BIRD

So what -- you gonna rape me now?

 

ERIC

Time for your reward, T. Payback

with interest earned.

 

Eric rips a long strip of tape from the roll.

 

 

EXT. DETROIT RIVER SHIPYARD - NIGHT

 

A HIGH ANGLE of the car as Eric opens the trunk.

 

ERIC'S POV - The Trunk.

 

loaded with plastique, canisters, timers, arson paraphernalia.

 

 

INT. T-BIRD - FAVOR T-BIRD - NIGHT

 

SLOW TILT starting with T-Bird's foot, firmly taped to the

pedal. Mummified into his seat. Hands taped to the wheel.

Throat taped hard against the headrest.

 

 

The car is now in gear, idling.

 

ANGLE - ON ERIC FROM WINDOW

 

He drops an incendiary right into T-Bird's lap. T-Bird squirms.

No go. Eric reaches in with a bungie cord.

 

ERIC

A little restrictive? Good.

(chilling)

You held her down and raped her.

You were the first. She burned

while you were inside of her.

(re: bomb)

What's the lag on this? About

twenty seconds, would you say?

 

T-bird thrashes, but he's immobilized. Can't even budge the

wheel.

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

I've comrades in hell, T-bird.

Give them my best.

 

Eric activates the timer. Yanks up hard on the bungie cord.

 

INSERT: T-BIRD FOOTWELL

 

The bungie cord pulls T-Bird's foot all the way down on the

pedal.

 

ANGLE - ON CAR, FROM DOCKSIDE

 

Eric steps back, plucks the guitar out as the car starts to move. The

car roars for the edge of the dock, about a distance of a

football field. Eric examines T-bird's auto pistol and pops the

clip.

 

INTERCUTS: as the car speeds for the water's edge, Eric thumbs

bullets from the clip, one by one.

 

 

INT. T-BIRD - TRAVELING FAST - NIGHT

 

T-bird's eyes bug in horror and he goes MMMMMMMMHHH!

 

CLOSE-UP - THE CLIP IN ERIC'S HAND

 

thumbing out the final bullet.

 

 

EXT. DETROIT RIVER SHIPYARD - RESUMING ERIC - NIGHT

 

ERIC

All gone.

 

ANGLE - T-BIRD REACHES DOCKSIDE

 

Lifting off and blowing all to hell, a billion smithereens of

phosphorescent firs pattering into the dark water. It hits.

Sinks. Weird flare glow as the car quickly submerges.

 

ANGLE - ERIC

 

heaving the gun into the distant water. Plosh. He produces T-

Bird's accelerator. Squirts it into the ground. He

prestidigitates and T-Bird's Zippo appears in his hand. He

flicks it and drops it into the flammable puddle.

 

HIGH LONG SHOT - ERIC

 

walking slowly out of the scene as the firepool coalesces into

a burning crow shape.

 

 

INT. DARLA'S APARTMENT - DAWN

 

CLOSE-UP of a frying pan busy burning some pretty firebombed

looking eggs. Kind gross.

 

ANGLE - DARLA AT THE STOVE.

 

NOT THRILLED WITH HER OWN PROGRESS.

 

DARLA

I never was too good at this

domestic shit.

 

ANGLE - ELLY AT LIVING ROOM WINDOW

 

staring outside at nothing in particular. Yet.

 

ELLY

Don't say "shit".

(beat)

That's okay. Corn Flakes are

okay. Anything.

 

She pauses as she hears a lilting, faraway GUITAR STRAIN.

Across the street she can make out the figure of Eric on his

roof playing the guitar.

 

 

EXT. ROOF OF LOFT BUILDING DAWN

 

EXTREME CLOSE of a Pignose Amp. More soft GUITAR strokes as

CAMERA FOLLOWS a patchwork a taped-together, jerry-rigged

cables to:

 

ANGLE - ERIC ON ROOF -- shirtless, crosslegged, his Crow make-up

streaked by the night's work. His fingering is unsure and he

tries the tune again.

 

INSERT - We she Shelly's engagement ring on a leather thong

around Eric's neck. Like an amulet.

 

ANGLE - ERIC PLAYING

 

He's got it right this time. Strong, sure CHORDS. Passionate.

We can almost imagine him conjuring Shelly via musical sorcery.

He holds a stroke, letting it ring. Sun rises behind him.

 

IRATE VOICE (O.S.)

Hey, shut the fuck up!

 

Eric's eyes, closed with the moment, dart left. Funny.

 

 

EXT. MAXI-DOGS - DAY

 

Later. Elly is seated on a stool.. Mickey gives her a chili

dog.

 

MICKEY

Chili dog for breakfast... it's

original.

 

ELLY

Mom tried to cook.

 

MICKEY

Oh.

 

CUSTOMER (O.S.)

Hey, Mickey, I need a special

with everything. No sawdust.

 

MICKEY

(to Elly)

Everyone's a comedian. Enjoy.

 

Mickey EXITS FRAME.

 

GRANGE (O.S.)

You're Elly, right? I know your

mom.

 

Elly turns. Grange sits next to her. Lao's mirrored-windowed car

is parked across the street, b.g.

 

ELLY

A lot of people "know" my mom.

 

Grange points o.s., indicating he wants coffee from Mickey.

 

GRANGE

I know your friend, too -- the one

that looks like a rock star.

 

ELLY

I don't know you.

 

GRANGE

(easily)

I'd like to get in touch with him.

 

Elly sizes Grange up.

 

ELLY

You're not a cop, either. What do

you want him for?

 

GRANGE

I'm looking for a good guitar man.

 

ELLY

Right.

 

Grange withdraws a $10 bill from his wallet and slides it across

the countertop to Mickey.

 

ELLY (CONT'D)

You buying?

(cuts him some slack)

He kinda wanders around. You'll

see him if you pay attention.

 

GRANGE

I need to find him kind of soon,

Elly.

 

 

INT. LOFT - ON ERIC - DAY

 

No shirt, the ring on the thong around his neck -- workout mode.

 

He twirls and performs odd Crow moves of increasing complexity

in the big open living room. On purpose, he stretches hard

against the bedroom doorframe.

 

FLASH: Shelly stands in the blue moonlight near the picture window

wearing a rococo Victorian gown. PUSH IN TIGHT as she is

embraced by a nude Eric. He undoes the last few remaining ties

that hold the gown in place. FOLLOW THE GOWN as it crumples

down the length of Shelly's (also otherwise nude) body to the

floor...

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

LOW ANGEL - FROM INSIDE THE BEDROOM - ON ERIC

 

hanging there, inviting the pain the FLASHES bring. Breathing

as though he is pumping iron, pumping up.

 

ANGLE - LATER - ERIC IN BEDROOM

 

embracing a ragged full-length dress that used to be Shelly's.

 

FLASH: Eric and Shelly (wearing the same dress), exchange an

extremely passionate and intimate KISS in the moonlight.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC

 

as he drops the dress. Absorbing the pain and memories.

 

ANGLE - LATER - ERIC IN LIVING ROOM

 

executing a complex roll that winds him up at the windowsill.

He grasps it with both hands.

 

FLASH: A series of CLOSE SHOTS of Eric and Shelly's HANDS, each

moving along the other's body. Curves and dips and contours.

But Eric's gaze never leaves SHelly's eyes.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC AT WINDOW

 

His GAZE similarly FIXED. Bringing his hands away and clapping

them together, deep breath, fingertips pressed to his face, like

Kung Fu prep. When he opens his eyes, the crow is there before

him on the sill.

 

ERIC

That's better.

 

He wipes his torso down with a towel.

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

It's almost time.

 

He holds his hand in front of his face and he flexes it. We can

HEAR tendons CRACKLE like a harness. Closes it into a powerful

fist.

 

INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

 

TIGHT on Skank as he slams his fist down on the table. He has

a black eye and facial scuffs from his liquor store encounter.

 

SKANK

Top, I made the sumbitch! Face

all painted white like some kinda

fuckin' kabuki homo!

 

WIDE ANGLE to include all present: Lao, Grange, Lao Guards #1

and #2, Top Dollar, and a Sentry. Top dusts up a line and

rinses his nostrils with brandy.

 

LAO

Sounds like our "Crow" is

out-maneuvering you.

 

TOP DOLLAR

"Our" Crow...?

 

LAO

Come now. You've seen the

graffiti -- all over the city in

the few hors it has taken your

men to drop like plague victims.

What about your turf, Top?

(mockingly)

You don't seem to have ripped out

anyone's heart yet.

 

TOP DOLLAR

(pissed off)

The night is young.

 

SKANK

(hot)

The found T-bird flash-fried to

what was left of his fucking car!

 

Top is angry too, but won't show it to Lao. He rises and goes

to the window. Neon glow. Top sees something outside, below,

that really torques him off.

 

 

EXT. STREET OUTSIDE SHOWTIME - NIGHT (TOP'S POV)

 

A phantom GRAFFITI ARTIST is spray-painting a crow shape on the

condemned building right across the street.

 

 

INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

 

Top whip-drawing an auto pistol and shooting below.

 

TOP DOLLAR

Hey, you little fuckweed! That's

against the law!

 

His gun smoking. Momentary empowerment.

 

TOP DOLLAR (CONT'D)

I don't give a shit what kinda

bird this guy is.

 

 

EXT. WINDOW - NIGHT

 

As Top turns from the window, PULL BACK to incorporate the

chunky shadows where the lights don't fall. Eric is there,

perched on the narrow exterior ledge...but we don't know it

until he opens his eyes, two dots of white in the blackness.

 

 

INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

 

LAO AT TABLE -- angered by this macho horseshit, annoyed at his

time being frittered.

 

LAO

I am sitting over here.

 

He SLAMS a palm on the table and the room goes silent. Top

looks sheepish.

 

LAO (CONT'D)

Do you think this childish

machismo impresses me?

(regains composure)

When I was a boy in Saigon I

watched my country change one

block at a time, one building at

a time. Whole lives erased. A

way of life, polluted. Today, no

one forces me to move. I use my

powers to change your country, one

block at a time, one building at

a time.

 

TOP DOLLAR

Nice speech. What's it supposed

to mean?

 

LAO

Your comprehension is not

required. Your cooperation and,

indeed, your ability are the

issues on the table.

 

Top rallies to this.

 

TOP DOLLAR

Whatever you say, I can do.

 

Skank looks around, nervous and jumpy, a contradiction to Top's

guarantee.

 

 

LAO

That's reassuring.

 

CLOSE-UP - TOP'S SHELL CASING IN ERIC'S HAND

 

from the ledge. Endstamp is for a .45 caliber.

 

ANGLE - ERIC ON LEDGE

 

He sniffs the cartridge. We can see Funboy's cartridge in his

hair. He fists the shell casing tightly.

 

ANGLE - DOWN-TABLE, AT SKANK

 

Jittery, grabbing a clip for his own automatic.

 

SKANK

What was that -- !?

 

It wasn't anything. Skank loads, stands and jacks the action on

his gun. Lao looks questioningly to Top Dollar.

 

TOP DOLLAR

Too many poppers, Skank. Relax. Heel.

 

ANGLE - WINDOW BEHIND TOP DOLLAR

 

A black blur as Eric arches through, spilling Top.

 

ANGLE - MEN SEATED AT TABLE

 

Eric back flips the length of the table and kicks the gun from

Skank's hand. All react. Weapons out.

 

CLOSE-UP - SKANK'S GUN

 

spinning mid-air to land in Eric's open hand!

 

GENERAL ANGLE - BIG MOBY SHOOTOUT - (VARIOUS)

 

Death cleans house. Standing on the table, Eric fires rearward

under his own arm to clip Lao Guard #1. He pivots, shooting,

and takes out Lao Guard #2 -- who slams backward into the steel

door as it being opened by the Sentry outside. Crash! The

door is shut again.

 

ANGLE - GRANGE AND LAO

 

Grange sprays the room with a Calico 950 Auto, shoving Lao

beneath the table for cover.

 

ANGLE - ERIC

 

Bullets hit him and demolish everything behind him. Skank hits

the deck again. Eric fires and Lao Guard #1 sucks three hits

across the chest, firing convulsively against the ceiling, blowing

the lights.

 

ANGLE - TOP DOLLAR

 

springing up from behind table. But Eric is gone from the field

of fire and one shot strikes Skank, rising at the far end.

 

ANGLE - LAO AND GRANGE

 

making for the door, Grange as shield. Lao draws a pistol. The door

opens and Lao shoots a Sentry to clear him out of the way.

 

ANGLE - TIGHTER ON LAO

 

A last look back toward Eric and Grange hustle Lao out.

 

Door SLAM o.s. Top is out of ammo as Eric lands from above

frame right in front of him and slaps the gun from his hand.

 

TOP DOLLAR

(awed but maintained)

You want my attention, man you

got it.

 

ANGLE - SKANK UNDER TABLE

 

Wounded but clawing toward Eric just the same.

 

SKANK

It's him, Top! He dusted T-Bird!

 

ANGLE - ERIC AND TOP DOLLAR, FACE-TO-FACE

 

ERIC

You have to be SKank.

(to Top Dollar)

One moment.

 

As he speaks, WIDEN FRAME as he turns and grabs the incoming

Skank by the hair.

 

ERIC

Thank of a snappy comeback for me

on your way down.

 

Without a beat he pitches Skank right out the window! Skank howls

all the way down.

 

 

EXT. STREET - ON POLICE CAR - NIGHT

 

Damaged from the wreck, limping home, piloted by our pals Speeg

and MJ. Skank smashes down into the roof, imploding the

flashbar and windshield. MJ drenches his lap in fresh coffee.

 

MJ

OwwwAAHHH son of a BITCH!

 

ANGLE - SIDEWALK ACROSS THE STREET - ON ALBRECHT

 

who watches with slow marvel from the shadows

 

ALBRECHT

Jesus Christ...

 

He runs to assist the demolished cruiser.

 

 

INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - RESUMING - NIGHT

 

Just Top, Eric, corpses, and lazily drifting gunsmoke.

 

ERIC

Top Dollar, you're the only one

here still wasting good air...

 

TOP DOLLAR

Five large, in the drawer right

over there. I never saw you.

 

ERIC

Do you know what you destroyed?

 

TOP DOLLAR

Take the dope, too.

 

Eric backhands Top into the wall. Gets in his face, seething.

 

ERIC

A year ago. A very nice lady

circulated a petition. She died.

Last Halloween. Answer yes or no.

 

TOP DOLLAR

That's ancient history.

 

ERIC

It's yesterday! Do you know what

you destroyed?

 

Top Dollar yells right back at Eric's anger.

 

TOP DOLLAR

Who gives a fuck! I'm a

businessman. You gonna do me,

then do me and shut you're face!

 

ERIC

You don't even remember...

 

TOP DOLLAR

I never forget anything, dickhead.

That building was a sweep-and-

clear; the bitch was a nuisance

with her goddamned petition. It

got a little rowdy... end of

story.

 

ERIC

Rowdy. Let me fill in some gaps

for you.

 

And he grabs Top's head the way he grabbed ALbrecht's earlier,

slams Top into the wall. Nose-to-nose.

 

FLASH: Shelly backing away from oncoming Funboy in the loft,

trying to retreat, nowhere to run, her home invaded, scared.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

ANGLE - TOP DOLLAR AND ERIC

 

Top is quivering, almost helpless in Eric's hypnotic grasp.

Eric winces, hard, and --

 

FLASH: Shelly cut, bleeding, struggling against T-Bird. Wild.

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

ANGLE - RESUMING TOP DOLLAR AND ERIC

 

Viciously close, more intimate and lethal than anything.

 

ERIC

You're a detail man, Top -- you

need to see more.

 

This time Top tries to twist from Eric's grasp but it's no good.

 

FLASH: Shelly, comatose in ICU, eyes fixed and staring,

hoses darting in and out, cold blue refrigerator light.

 

Bloody, bruised and broken (from Albrecht;s memory)

 

FLASH ENDS.

 

CLOSE-UP - TOP DOLLAR

 

arching, stiffening in pain.

 

CLOSE-UP - TOP DOLLAR AND ERIC

 

ERIC

All of her pain, Top. Thirty

hours. All at once...

 

Eric bears down on Top Dollar again. Top screams. Blood begins

to leak from his eyes, nose, ears.

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

...all for you.

 

FLASH: Rapidfire CLOSE-UPS. A jagged compound fracture,

jutting, Shelly's eye, blood-red sclera, purpled and sunken.

 

Her scraped-raw hand clawing at air. Icebox lighting. A TIGHT

SHOT of her monitor going flatline: eeeeeeeeeeeeee...

 

TWO-SHOT - RESUMING ERIC AND TOP DOLLAR.

 

as Top sags in Eric's grasp, terror fixing his wide-staring dead

eyes. Eric lets him drop like a laundry sack.

 

ERIC

I didn't think you could handle it

either.

 

O.S. BANG of impact, heavy against the steel door. Eric turns.

 

ANGLE - STEEL DOOR

 

as it is battered down by a squad of police using a power-ram.

All weapons snap up to bear on Eric.

 

LEAD SWAT

That's all she wrote, Bozo! You

stand down now, and that's an

order!

 

ANGLE - ERIC AS HE MOVES

 

using his foot to shove the massive conference table at the

incoming SWATS while launching himself into the air, flipping

toward the window and arching through cleanly as the cops open

fire on command. Bullets tear the room to pieces.

 

LEAD SWAT

The fire escape's covered.

 

 

EXT. SHOWTIME - FRONT FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

 

Picking up Eric on his dive through the window, bullets chasing

him. Immediate police fire from below sparks off the ironwork.

Eric ducks slugs balletically and scampers to the roof.

 

ANGLE - SHOWTIME ROOFTOP EDGE

 

Eric somersaults over. Bullets chip brick in his wake.

 

STREET LEVEL - UP ANGLE TOWARD ROOF.

 

Showtime girded police cars and MARKSMEN, Eric a distant

shadow figure above. Here comes a TEAM LEADER with a bullhorn.

 

TEAM LEADER (FILTERED)

On the roof! Keep firing! Keep

firing!

 

A fury of law enforcement ordnance cuts loose all around him.

 

RESUMING ERIC ON SHOWTIME ROOF EDGE

 

A forearm up against the fusillade. Below him --

 

ANGLE - PIT FRONT FIRE ESCAPE

 

Here come Lead SWAT and his Merry MEN.

 

MOVING ANGLE - WITH ERIC - ADJACENT ROOFTOP

 

Eric runs for it. Half a story higher. He hits the wall and

skitters up, gripping tiny cracks in the brickwork.

 

ANGLE - RESUMING MEN ON FRONT SHOWTIME FIRE ESCAPE.

 

Lead SWAT hesitates -- because of what he sees.

 

LEAD SWAT

Holy shit, it's spiderman.

 

He tries to pull a bead and fires too late.

 

LEAD SWAT (CONT'D)

What're you boy scouts staring at!

Let's Go! Let's go! Let's go!

 

MOVING ANGLE - PICKING UP ERIC ON NEXT ROOF

 

He sprints to the far edge and dives to the next lower rooftop.

As he lands he is nailed by a helicopter spotlight, boring in

from behind and above the row of buildings.

 

MOVING ANGLE - THE STREET BELOW

 

COPS below, COPS in the chopper, everyone rushing parallel to

Eric, trying to keep up.

 

ERIC'S POV - THE STREET, THE HELICOPTER

 

PAN QUICK to the next ledge. COPS right behind him on the roof

as well.

 

WITH ERIC - AS HE RUNS TO THE EDGE.

 

and finds a void waiting there. No connecting building.

 

ANOTHER MOVING ANGLE - ERIC

 

staying ahead of the search light. A fantastic series of artful

moves that wind him up at the rear edge of the roof.

 

ANGLE - SWAT MEN ON NEXT ROOF

 

sighting Eric as the light picks him out. Eric glances at

them... then jumps.

 

CHOPPER PILOT (O.S./FILTERED)

He's off the roof. We can't see

him.

 

CLOSE-UP - LEAD SWAT

 

pulling his weapon off target, because there is not target.

 

LEAD SWAT

Dammit to hell!

(beat; to men)

Come on.

 

ANGLE - ALLEY - STREET LEVEL

 

Eric lands like a falling safe, scattering garbage. But he's

okay, up and running.

 

ANGLE - ERIC'S RUNNING POV - END OF ALLEY

 

as his escape is cut off by a police car that screeches to a

stop, blocking the exit.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC

 

as he backpedals, scanning for an alternate escape.

 

ALBRECHT

(from car)

Come on!

 

CLOSER ANGLE - POLICE CAR

 

We can see Albrecht. Eric dives inside and the car burns rubber.

 

 

INT. ALBRECHT'S CAR - TRAVELLING - NIGHT

 

Albrecht harried and frantic, but in control.

 

ALBRECHT

Keep your head down!

 

He twists and turns the car, glancing rearward for pursuit.

 

Gradually he calms down.

 

ALBRECHT (CONT'D)

I figured you might need a ride

home.

 

Eric looks up at him from his half-concealed crouch.

 

ERIC

It's done.

ALBRECHT

I figured as much. Did you cap

off Funboy.

 

ERIC

Funboy had to leave this mortal

coil.

 

ALBRECHT

Yeah, among others.

(sees Eric's condition)

Hey, man -- you're hit.

 

ERIC

It's only a flesh wound.

 

ALBRECHT

It's only fourteen or fifteen

flesh wounds.

 

Eric sits up as the car gains distance. Grabs the cigarette out

of ALbrecht's mouth. Takes his single puff.

 

ERIC

You shouldn't smoke these.

 

He pitches the smoke out the open car window.

 

ALBRECHT

Great. Litterbug of the Living

Dead.

 

Eric turns back to Albrecht.

 

ERIC

I'm finished.

 

Eric shoots him a doubtful look.

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

I mean, I've done what I came to

do. It shouldn't hurt this much.

But it will pass...

 

ALBRECHT

(not buying it)

Right.

(beat)

You sure I can't just take you to

the emergency ward?

 

 

EXT. STREET - NIGHT - ON ALBRECHT'S CAR

 

It hangs a turn and their escape is made.

 

ERIC (O.S.)

They couldn't do anything for me.

 

ALBRECHT (O.S.)

How 'bout the morgue?

 

ERIC (O.S.)

No. I have one more thing to do.

 

 

EXT. STREET - ANOTHER PART OF THE CITY - NIGHT

 

Lonelier, less traffic, more deserted.

 

ANGLE - ON ALBRECHT AND ERIC THROUGH WINDSHIELD - TRAVELLING

 

ALBRECHT

You're gonna kill somebody else.

(beat; no response)

We're gonna stop and get a shit-load

of Band-Aids?

 

Eric is obviously fighting to stay centered, stay conscious.

His last fight has caused him a great deal of damage, taken a

lot out of him. He needs to recharge.

 

ERIC

I have to prepare for an

anniversary. This coming night.

 

HOLD on their two kinds of determination. as we

 

DISSOLVE TO:

 

 

EXT. CITYSCAPE - DAY

 

High blue sky. It might even be pretty if it wasn't Detroit.

 

 

INT. LAO'S CLUB OFFICE - DAY

 

The TV flybank pulses with videotaped images of Club Trash's of

various performers -- including Diabolique. On several screens,

one-by-one, various images of a guitar-playing Eric Draven

FREEZE-FRAME as we PULL BACK to the desk. Lao has the 8x10 from

the corridor gallery. He places it within eyeshot and resumes

work on the desk BELOW FRAME; we can't see it yet, among other

scattered research and inconcubula.

 

ANGLE - GRANGE

 

Entering and crossing to the desk. As he comes up to the desk,

he DRAWS BACK.

 

 

GRANGE

What... the hell is that?

 

LAO

(calmly)

This is a cobra, Mr. Grange. Yes,

it is real.

 

NEW ANGLE - LAO AND GRANGE

 

Revealing Lao with a sealed cage, holding a large, live cobra in

his hands. The killing blade is nearby.

 

GRANGE

That thing is poisonous.

 

LAO

Extremely so.

(beat)

You and I are the recipients of

unwanted good fortune, in the form

of a man everyone is calling The Crow.

 

Grange makes a face. Can't keep his eyes off the cobra.

 

GRANGE

Give me a break. That guy's a wacko...

 

LAO

I intend no slight to you, but I

cannot find the English to

adequately express just what he

is. I suppose Western mythology

would describe him as a Fury.

GRANGE

Not a Plymouth Fury, I bet.

 

Lao chuckles indulgently.

 

LAO

Do you know of spirit assassins?

You do know the dead can rise?

Properly motivated, of course.

 

GRANGE

Like some sort of zombie on a

revenge trip.

 

LAO

Mmm. But tonight I can take what

is his.

 

GRANGE

Only thing you'll get from that

clown is a faster way to die.

LAO

To the contrary...

 

ZZLIP! Lao smoothly BEHEADS the snake with the Blade against

the stone surface of the desk and discards the writhing body.

He squeezes behind one of the eyes and a VENOM SAC protrudes

like a dark pimento.

 

LAO pulls it free of the milky, clinging tissue and EATS IT.

Off Grange's stunned expression.

 

LAO (CONT'D)

...all the dying tonight will be

done by the former Eric Draven.

 

Lao exhibits the blade to Grange as though it explains all.

 

LAO (CONT'D)

Who is only invulnerable so long

as he cares about the dead. When

he begins to care about the living,

you'll find his heart can bleed...

and I want it to bleed for me.

 

GRANGE

Kill a dead guy?

 

Lao POPS the second venom sac; swallows it. Pleased.

 

LAO

Truly kill him. So I may crush

his skull and smoke it.

 

Lao SHRUGS. Grange can handle it.

 

LAO (CONT'D)

Let it suffice that I need him...

and to get to him, we'll need his

little friend.

 

Finally, an assignment Grange can comfortable understand.

 

 

INT. LOFT - DAY

 

Eric, barechested, emotionally tapped, clean of makeup and blood

but exhausted, his movements retarded and slack. Staring

fixedly into the fireplace, where he burns everything he could

find of his past: the junk from the makeup table, the masques,

photos of himself and Shelly.

 

 

INT. LOFT - STAIRWELL - DAY

 

Moving with Elly as she nears the open loft door. She PEEKS

cautiously inside.

 

RESUME ERIC

 

Without looking toward the door, he speaks.

 

ELLY

What's going on...?

 

ERIC

A remembrance.

(beat)

A closure.

 

And Eric consigns to the fire the DRESS we saw earlier.

 

Holds a photograph in a broken frame. Cracked glass. Subject:

Eric and Shelly, goofing for the camera.

 

He chucks it into the fire. Draws a deep breath.

 

ERIC

Better now. I feel good. How are

you, Elly, my friend?

 

Elly is clearly uncomfortable, groping for an excuse just to see

Eric. Eric is staring at her, intently.

 

ERIC

What is it?

ELLY

I knew. I knew I knew you. Even

with the makeup and stuff you

wore.

(beat)

You really loved her, didn't you?

 

CLOSE-UP - FIREPLACE

 

The photo burns and blackens in the grate.

 

ERIC

You brought flowers. As long as

you don't forget her, Elly, she

lives.

 

ELLY

(upset)

She's dead. She's gone. And now

you're just gonna go away and

never come back, too. I hate this

place; it isn't fair.

 

ERIC

Elly...

 

He draws her close. Wipes away an errant tear with his thumb.

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

Sometimes the people we care about

are gone, for no reason. Sometimes

that's really tough. I cry. But if

the people we love are gone, we keep them --

 

He taps Elly's temple, then his won.

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

-- right here. It's a big

responsibility. And that makes it

okay to mourn.

(beat)

I know that if you weren't here,

I'd be very sad.

 

Elly gives Eric a hug.

 

ELLY

You look funny without your white

face on. Like it's your day off

or something.

 

He quizzical expression amuses him.

 

ERIC

Somebody here wants to meet you. Gabriel?

 

Gabriel the cat has wandered near the fireplace to join them.

Elly is immediately smitten. Happy.

ELLY

I remember him! Here, Gabriel...

here kitty... Gabriel... Is he

still yours?

 

ERIC

I think he's yours, now.

 

The cat seems to like that idea. Elly wraps him hugely up in

her arms, talking to him: "How're you, Gabriel, whatcha doin'"

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - TIGHTER ON ERIC

 

While Elly is preoccupied with the cat, Eric gives up his last

bit of Shelly to the fire - a portrait photo of her, small and

creased. He puts it in the fire, watches it burn for a beat,

then turns to Elly.

 

ERIC (CONT'D)

I have something else for you.

 

BACK FOCUS as Eric lifts off his neck Shelly's ring for Elly's

inspection. The ring twirls large in f.g.

 

ELLY

Nobody ever gave me something like

that before. Ever.

 

Eric places it around her neck. Elly BEAMS.

 

ERIC

Shelly would've wanted you to have

it. This way, you'll think of her

every time you see it...

 

ELLY

And she'll be alive. Up here.

 

Elly TAPS her own temple with a smile, keeping one hand on the

ring.

 

CUT TO:

 

 

 

 

 

EXT. STREET - DAY

 

Blowing wind. TRICK-OR-TREATERS wisp past. Ghosts, witches,

demons out for Halloween.

 

ANGLE - CEMETERY FENCE

 

walking home with Gabriel zipped up inside her coat is Elly. A

fire engine wails past in the opposite direction.

 

ANGLE - ELLY ON BROWNSTONE STEPS

 

Strictly downscale building. Elly to Gabriel"

 

ELLY

You're gonna like it here.

 

A car curbs across the street as she enters the building.

 

ANGLE - PUSH IN ON CAR

 

as the window cranks down to reveal Grange at the wheel.

 

 

INT. DARLA'S APARTMENT - DAY

 

Darla nervously smoking, doing her best to stay clean, but

jittery. Elly enters the shabby living room with Gabriel in her

arms.

 

 

DARLA

I was wonderin' where you'd

gotten to --

(she sees Gabriel)

Oh, Elly, honey, a cat. Here?

 

ELLY

He was a present. Besides, we're

moving anyway. You said.

 

DARLA

We'll discuss this later.

Obviously. You left the door open.

 

DARLA points. As Elly goes to close the door it opens.

 

NEW ANGLE - FAVOR THE DOOR

 

Grange enters accompanied by two Asian martial arts STRONGARMS

(Lao Guards #3 & #4). Grange looks around, bemused, his manner

avuncular.

 

GRANGE

Hi, Elly. Remember me?

 

Elly's surprise is evident. Darla is just plain pissed off.

 

DARLA

I don't remember you. And I don't

remember inviting...

 

GRANGE

(to his MEN)

If she opens her face again, shoot

her in the head.

 

ANGLE - DARLA

 

Mouth stalling in the ON position as Lao Guard #3 pulls a

gigantic gun, draws and cocks.

 

ELLY

(panicked)

Mom -- !

 

ANGLE - GUARD #4 AND ELLY

 

as he scoops her up, captive.

 

ANGLE - GRANGE AND GABRIEL

 

He strolls the circuit of the room, stopping near the window.

 

GRANGE

You should listen to your mother.

She said no cats.

 

Grange pitches Gabriel right out the window.

 

ELLY

Gabriel!

 

Grange pulls out a compact Polaroid camera.

 

GRANGE

Now that's the expression I want.

 

ANGLE - ELLY AND GUARD #4

 

As she struggle mightily, to no avail, as Grange moves in to

snap his shot.

 

GRANGE (CONT'D)

Say cheese.

 

He snaps. On the SX-70 WHIRR and flash white-out, we --

 

 

EXT. LOFT BUILDING ROOFTOP - SUNSET

 

Dark clouds have gathered to highlight the sunset. Eric plays

the guitar - LOUD, the SHelly theme in a major key. Where

before it was wandering, uncertain, now it's bold and

heartbreaking. Definitive. Pain replaced by strength and a

sense of homecoming.

 

As Eric gets to the end of it, the notes are flying out... At

the climax, rips the guitar up over his head and brings it

down -- SMASH -- on the Pignose. He's finished here.

 

ROOF EDGE - FROM STREET

 

as the broken guitar SAILS OUT over the building edge.

 

INT. LOFT BUILDING STAIRWELL - DUSK

 

As Eric comes down the stairs. Notices the open door.

 

 

INT. LOFT - DUSK

 

He enters, cautiously, to find an envelope laying in the middle

of the floor. He opens it.

 

INSERT - THE POLAROID OF ELLY

 

with a note.

 

UP ANGLE AT ERIC READING THE NOTE - FROM FLOOR

 

The crow flies past behind him as his expression hardens.

 

NEW ANGLE - A MOMENT LATER - FAST AND HARD

 

Eric brutally crisscrosses his arms with black vinyl tape.

 

ANGLE - ERIC DRESSING

 

Pulling on black night-fighting clothes, skintight.

 

ANGLE - THE VANITY

 

as Eric (seen in mirror) jabs his fingers into the white

makeup and smears it on.

 

SMASH CUT TO:

 

 

EXT. STREET NEAR CEMETERY - NIGHT

 

Eric marches along in plain view since everyone around him seems

to be in costume. The wind whips his coat. KIDS bustle around

him with trick-or-treat bags. The crow perched on his shoulder.

 

ERIC'S POV - CITY SKYLINE

 

Somewhere, a few blocks over, a building is burning.

 

ANGLE - ERIC WALKING

 

A fire engine races past on the street. He steps out in its

wake and crosses over to --

 

MEDIUM MOVING SHOT - THE CEMETERY

 

waiting for him as he crosses to the fence. Beyond the fence,

in the distance, the church looms.

 

ANGLE - ERIC

 

He pauses. A KID in a Creature from the Black Lagoon mask

comes, passes Eric, then comes back for a touch.

 

CREATURE KID

Trick or treat!

 

Eric smiles. Not tonight.

 

 

EXT. CEMETERY - NIGHT

 

Eric is standing over the grave of Shelly Webster, looking down.

He holds for a moment then moves on.

 

 

EXT. CHURCH - NIGHT

 

Eric ascends toward giant oak doors, tres Gothique. The crow

flaps past, leading him.

 

NEW ANGLE - TOP OF STEPS -- where waits the Skull Cowboy. As

Eric approaches, the Skull Cowboy interposes himself between

Eric and the huge double doors.

 

Eric glares up, defiant. Moves up the steps. The Skull Cowboy

extends a skeletal hand. STOP.

 

SKULL COWBOY

Stop screwing around.

 

 

TIGHT ON ERIC

 

Angry, ready to battle: You talking to me?

 

SKULL COWBOY (CONT'D)

Your job is done. You interfere

with the living again.

 

ERIC

Tell me I'll get hurt. That I

might die.

(beat)

I've already done that. I don't

need anyone's help. Yours

included.

 

STAIR ANGLE - ERIC AND SKULL COWBOY

 

Eric lower, Skull Cowboy superior, the storm wild around them.

 

SKULL COWBOY

Do this thing and you will be

vulnerable. The blood will not

return.

(beat)

No powers. No reunion. Nothing.

 

ERIC

Fine with me.

 

He ADVANCES a step up; the Skull Cowboy Hold fast.

 

SKULL COWBOY

You'll be alone.

 

ERIC

I'm already alone.

 

 

INT. BELL TOWER - NIGHT

 

Through a castle keep-like slit, Grange monitors Eric's

arrival. He speaks into a headset.

 

GRANGE

We've got company.

 

LAO (O.S./FILTERED)

Is he inside?

 

GRANGE'S POV - ERIC

 

Eric Talking to dead air. Almost arguing with it. Eerie.

 

RESUME GRANGE

 

As he talks into his mike he hefts a nightscoped, laser-sighted

sniper's rifle.

 

GRANGE

He's just out front talking to

himself. You tell me.

 

 

EXT. CHURCH - RESUMING ERIC ON STEPS - NIGHT

 

Eric, eyes steely, stares down the Skull Cowboy.

 

ERIC

Don't waste my time.

 

SKULL COWBOY

Very well, it's your ass.

 

And the wind kicks up around them both, powerfully.

 

ANGLE - SKULL COWBOY (EFFECT)

 

As the force of the storm dust-devils around him and begins to

disassemble him. The fire in his eye sockets goes out. His hat

flies off an is pulverized by the wind. The garments begin to

disintegrate and blow around, rotten cerements falling apart in

mid-air.

 

ANGLE - ERIC ON STEPS -- transfixed by this unexpected

development. A shard of the Skull Cowboy blows past Eric's face

and transmutes to dust!

 

RESUME SKULL COWBOY AT TOP OF STEPS (EFFECT)

 

Transparent, ancient bones, crumbling and blowing away.

 

ANOTHER ANGLE - ERIC ON STEPS

 

As Eric lunges for what's left of his mysterious, smart-ass

mentor

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S LUNGING HAND

 

 

Meeting only a swirl of vaporous dust where the Skull Cowboy's

heart would have been.

 

TIGHT ANGLE - ERIC ON STEPS

 

He has time to register the dust in his palm before it, too,

renders down to nothingness, leaving a vague green glow that

dies. And as he looks to the sky --

 

UP ANGLE - THE CROW

 

flapping down to land on Eric's shoulder. Eric is astonished.

 

ERIC

But why are you still here?

 

CLOSE-UP - THE CROW

 

No answer in the crow's eyes.

 

RESUME AND FOLLOW ERIC

 

That's good enough for Eric. He marches to the double doors and

shoves them back.

 

 

INT. CHURCH - AS ERIC COMES THROUGH THE DOORS - NIGHT

 

The high breeze blows in with him, disturbing dust in the

disused Gothic dark. Hollow cathedral ECHOES to sounds. A

giant 27" TV positioned on the alter, broadcasting static.

 

LONG SHOT - ERIC AS HE APPROACHES THE ALTER - ("CROWVISION")

 

Leery of potential danger from a thousand dark places.

 

ANGLE - THE TV - AS ERIC ENTERS FRAME

 

Onscreen: Elly, gagged with duct tape and handcuffed to an iron

ring bolted to a flagstone wall. Could be anywhere inside the

church.

 

LAO (O.S./FILTERED)

I believe our friend Elly call

you Mister Crow.

(beat)

Please acknowledge; the mike

will pick you up.

ERIC

I can see her.

 

LAO

Of course you can.

ANGLE - GRANGE IN THE GALLERY -- in darkness. The running

lights on his night-scoped, laser-sighted sniper's rifle which

THROWS vague sprays of eerie red and green light.

 

LAO (CONT'D; O.S./FILTERED)

Don't permit your rage to cloud

the issue. I believe in barter.

I propose a simple trade.

 

Grange sights his weapon.

 

CROSSHAIR POV - ERIC AT THE ALTER

 

Bluring as Grange resights. Eric is not the target. Blur

FINDS the crow at the far end of the nave, perched in front of

a giant stained glass window.

 

NEW ANGLE - GRANGE -- squeezing off two quick, SILENCED shots.

 

ANGLE - STAINED GLASS WINDOW -- the first shot blows a hole in

some pastoral religious presentation. TINKLE of glass.

 

ANGLE - ERIC -- Spinning at the quiet !pfut! sound, to witness.

 

ANGLE - INCOMING DART - ("CROWVISION")

 

SPinning and hissing venomously.

 

ANGLE - ERIC DUCKS

 

As before, but the crow is not as fast.

 

TIGHT ANGLE - THE CROW

 

As it catches the dart and goes down in a flurry of feathers.

 

LOW ANGLE - ERIC AT ALTER - INCLUDE TV

 

His knees buckle. Sympathetic PAIN from the hit.

 

LAO (O.S./FILTERED)

You intended to finish this

evening in the cemetery. I am

here to help you on your way.

 

ANGLE - RESUMING GRANGE IN GALLERY

 

Swapping his tranquilizer gun for a more lethal rifle, similarly

scoped. He sights the fallen Eric in a spray of green light.

 

HIGH ANGLE - HAND HELD - ERIC AT ALTER

 

Groping for support to drag himself back to standing.

 

GRANGE (O.S.)

I've got him if you want him.

 

LAO (O.S./FILTERED)

No shooting.

 

GRANGE

(into headset)

Move in, guys.

 

HIGH ANGLE - THE SANCTUARY -- as Lao Guards #3 and #4 move

into light, closing on Eric's position in the center of isle.

Both wield calico's and one bears a sword.

 

CLOSE ANGLE - ALTER -- Lao makes his entrance from shadow

wearing a brisk pugilist get-up, a practical fighting outfit.

Makes a show of drawing the killing blade.

 

LAO

I wish to possess what you have now.

 

ERIC

I want the girl. Unharmed. Now.

 

LAO

I know. That is why I will

prevail. Mr. Grange... ?

 

Eric CRAMPS UP, CLUTCHING his throat in obvious pain.

 

ANGLE - GRANGE AT STAINED GLASS WINDOW

 

Holding the crow by the neck, TIGHTLY. He plucks the tranq dart

from the its body.

 

ANGLE - RESUMING ERIC AS LAO MOVES IN CLOSER

 

Crashing to one knee, invisibly bludgeoned, struggling to

breathe. Lao has no fear, walking around the stricken Eric.

 

LAO

Sooner or later, my action were

destined to bring me a genuine

Fury. And it turned out to be you.

At last. I appreciate your

abilities as few mortals can.

That's why I desire them.

 

ERIC

You're too late. There was a guy

outside - on the stairs - you

really need to talk to. But he

turned to dust and blew away.

(beat, gasping)

I don't have any power for you to take.

 

LAO

I don't believe that.

Lao motions to Grange with the killing blade. Grange RELAXES

his deathgrip on the crow. MOVE IN CLOSE on Eric so we may

perceive a palpable degree of relief.

 

LAO (CONT'D)

Time for you to die for me.

(beat)

Funny, how the dead can still

bleed. How they need air.

 

Eric IMMOBILIZED as Lao DRAWS BACK the Blade. To Grange:

 

LAO (CONT'D)

Break its neck.

 

ANGLE - RESUMING GRANGE AT WINDOW as he prepares to do dirty on

the bird.

 

Over his shoulder, we PUSH in to the BULLETHOLE from the first

dart until we're in TIGHT CLOSE-UP of an eye watching through

the hole.

 

EXT. CHURCH - OBVERSE OF WINDOW - NIGHT

 

Albrecht digs through a sling bag of weaponry, trying to

simultaneously monitor the peephole, muttering sotto to

himself.

 

ALBRECHT

Had to go get yourself hip-deep in

shit, didn't you, my friend.

 

It begins to rain. Albrecht glances resentfully toward the

sky.

 

ALBRECHT (CONT'D)

Give it a rest, huh?

 

A hefts a machinegun, clipped over and under. CUTS LOOSE on

full auto into the Madonna on the window.

 

 

INT. CHURCH NAVE - NIGHT

 

As the window EXPLODES toward Grange and he sucks big hits from

behind, DROPPING the crow. The bird hits the ground, flapping

weakly.

 

LAO GUARDS #3 & #4 exchange a look and whip up their Calicos,

RETURNING FIRE.

 

 

EXT. CHURCH - NIGHT

 

Albrecht takes cover as a lot of religious stuff is noisily

destroyed all around his position. Chunks of the window

continue to disintegrate.

 

 

INT. CHURCH ALTER (NIGHT)

 

Eric tuck-and-rolls out of the way as we go CLOSE on Lao,

screaming.

 

LAO

I said no shooting!

 

Then he's ducking bullets himself as Albrecht STEPS IN through

the blown out window, the machine gun stuttering on slugs.

 

The sanctuary comes apart around Lao. He RETREATS to the alter

and EXITS whence he came.

 

TIGHT ON PEW -- ERIC DIVES just as Guard #4 comes after him with

the sword, which chomps into the wood and gets stuck there.

Guard #4 releases it and cross draws his Calico as ERIC springs

back into the frame -- STRAIGHT UP.

 

TIGHT ON GUARD #4 as Eric's lancing foot propels him backward

before he can fire.

 

INTERCUTS -- ALBRECHT AND GUARD #3 scrambling to reload. Guard

changes magazine; Albrecht swaps clips.

 

ANGLE - DOWN LENGTH OF PEW -- Guard #4 slides. Sits up with his

gun as Eric, down-pew, grabs the sword.

 

ANGLE - ALBRECHT AT WINDOW firing now with a gun in each hand.

 

RESUME ERIC AND GUARD #4, who eats it from Albrecht's gunfire,

but not before he puts a round through Eric.

 

Eric staggers back from the impact but keeps his feet.

 

RESUME ALBRECHT as he tosses away the dry pistol. His machine

gun jams, he fights to get the clip.

 

ANGLE - GUARD #3 -- reloaded and rising, having caught Albrecht

dead-bang in the open by the window.

 

MOVING ANGLE - WITH ERIC -- A complex leap with the sword

flashing. He lands near Guard #3 and SLASHES UPWARDS, blade up.

 

CLOSE-UP - GUARD #3 -- screaming in pain, gaping DOWN O.S.

 

TIGHT ON ALBRECHT - looking UP, following the trajectory of

something AIRBORNE toward him.

 

CLOSE-UP - GUARD #3'S Calico spinning mid-air with Guard #3s

HANDS still attached, severed mid-forearm by Eric's devastating

strike.

 

ANGLE - ALBRECHT drops Guard #3 -- to REVEAL Eric in the

background. Eric salutes Albrecht with the tip of the sword.

 

WITH ALBRECHT as he moves into the nave, which has been torn

apart by gunfire. Hazy smoke. Two dead guys. And Eric.

 

ALBRECHT

You sorta looked like you might

need my help.

 

ERIC

This isn't your place. This isn't

your fight. And I don't need

your help.

 

ALBRECHT

You're welcome.

 

ERIC

Leave here. Don't do this. I

don't want you here.

 

ALBRECHT

The hell you say. This isn't just

about you any more.

 

Eric stares dead-on at Albrecht, acidly, then BREAKS the Guard's

sword, dropping the pieces and turning his back on Albrecht, who

pursues Eric to:

 

 

INT. SPIRAL STAIRCASE - TO BELL TOWER - NIGHT

 

The crow FLAPS UPWARD through the void. Eric grabs the thick

bellrope, testing it. A final look to Albrecht.

 

ERIC

Don't interfere.

 

ALBRECHT

You're bleeding, man. You can't

make it.

 

Eric shinnies up the bellrope, ignoring Albrecht.

 

ON ALBRECHT

 

Watching as Eric dissappears from view, fast.. Grumbles.

 

ALBRECHT

You won't mind if I just take the

stairs, then, smartass...

 

He hefts his arsenal bag of hardware and begins to plod up the

steps.

 

ANGLE - MOVING WITH ERIC ON THE ROPE -- A weird perspective of

speed climb. Zip! All the way to the top.

 

EXT - CHURCH ROOF - NIGHT

 

Slanted, shingled, slippery, dark. Lightning deep in the turbid

clouds. The crow circles as Eric RISES INTO FRAME.

 

ERIC

Here I am.

 

DOWNFRAME lightning STRIKES the ornate LIGHTNING ROD (large,

Victorian, lance-like) at the far end of the roof from the bell

tower.

 

SILHOUETTING Lao and Elly standing in front of it. Elly

flinches at the strike.

 

LAO

Can you fly, Crow man?

 

 

 

 

 

INT. BELLTOWER SPIRAL STAIRS - RESUMING ALBRECHT

 

He stops his ascent to light a cigarette.

 

ALBRECHT

I ain't cut out for this superhero

shit.

 

 

EXT. CHURCH ROOF - RESUMING LAO - NIGHT

 

Lao SNAPS Elly's free handcuff to the dimly glowing lightning

rod and advances, one foot on either side of the peak of the

roof, his blade brandished.

 

CLOSE MOVING SHOT - ERIC -- Hands up to grapple, but

weaponless. He spiders to meet Lao, suddenly PICKING UP SPEED

and RUNNING along the precarious peak.

 

Lao sees him coming, braces to strike, but Eric executes a BROAD

FLYING LEAP right over Lao's head.

 

ERIC LANDS, SLIPS, sprawls sideways, clinging to the peak of the

roof. Lao hurries in to slash with the blade, as Eric averts.

The steel RINGS. Eric converts his dodge into a low spin kick

that DUMPS Lao.

 

Eric SPREAD-EAGLES to keep from falling. Distantly, Lao

similarly saves himself.

 

NEW ANGLE -- THE FIGHT -- Here comes Lao, crabbing back toward

the peak. Eric ROLLS to Elly's position, GRABS the lightning

rod and tries to wrest it loose.

 

SIZZLE OF FLESH as Eric's hands are scorched: the metal is still

blue-hot.

 

MOVING WITH LAO as Eric battles to free the lightning rod. Lao

closes up distance, gives a warcry and prepares to swing as -

 

Eric WRENCHES the rod loose and turns to deflect Lao's blow.

The weapons spark as they meet... and there goes Elly, her

handcuff freed, SLIDING DOWN THE ROOF SLOPE.

 

ANGLE -- ROOF SLOPE -- WITH ERIC as he dodges Lao by using the

lightning rod to vault down to where Elly is about to slip off

the roof.

 

With the rod embedded in the roof, Eric hangs on, and elly hangs

on to Eric.

 

UP ANGLE -- LAO, a dark figure against the night sky, raising

the sword.

 

LAO

Face me!

 

Eric guides Elly to the top of one of the flying buttresses.

When he looks up, Lao is gone.

 

ANGLE - BELL TOWER -- Albrecht's head pokes up at last. Looks

around, finally spots Eric below and to the left. YELLS, serio-comic.

 

ALBRECHT

Is he dead yet?

 

INSERT - ALBRECHT'S HOLSTER as Lao's hand draws Albrecht's

gun quickly.

 

ANGLE - ALBRECHT AND LAO --Lao has blindsided Albrecht.

 

LAO

No. You are.

 

He jams the gun into the base of ALbrecht's neck and fires three times.

 

CLOSE ANGLE - ERIC - He's too far away to matter. Shock.

 

INSERT - ALBRECHT'S CIGARETTE as it rolls down the slope,

trailing sparks, snuffing out.

 

ANGLE - ERIC holding onto the lightning rod as lightning CUTS the

night above him.

 

ANGLE -- LAO AT BELL TOWER, triumphant and a bit wild, SHOUTING.

LAO

You've caused another death,

Mister Draven! The girl will die

as well -- because of you!

 

ANGLE - ELLY ON FLYING BUTTRESS

 

The base of a triangle - Lao, Eric, Elly.

 

ELLY

You go to hell, you pervert!

 

RESUME ERIC

 

Rage over the loss of Albrecht. He RISES, hurting but mad as

hell. GLARES UP toward Lao.

 

ERIC

And how many lives have you destroyed?

 

LAO

I took yours from you. Your

little girlfriend? I took hers,

too. Your meaningless, petty

life? I took it so that tonight

your existence might gain a

purpose. You're no avenger.

You're mine.

 

PUSH IN TIGHT ON ERIC.

 

Eyes alight with hatred for Lao.

 

ERIC

(to himself)

You're right, I'm not an avenger.

Not any more.

 

As lightning strikes, Eric Fires his gaze TOWARD THE SKY.

 

HIGH ANGLE - LAO ON ROOFTOP - ("CROWVISION")

 

SEEING the crash dive toward Lao through the row's eyes.

 

ANGLE - LAO ON ROOFTOP

 

As the crow wings down INTO FRAME and lights on Lao's head, CLAWING!

 

CLOSE-UP -- THE CROW ON LAO'S HEAD slashing with its claws.

Pecking out Lao's eyes.

 

WITH ERIC -- on the roofslope as he totters but maintains his

climb, the crow/Lao UPFRAME B.G.

 

RESUME LAO -- as the crow abandons him. Lao STAGGERS AND FALLS

down the roof - toward Eric.

SLANTED ANGLE -- ERIC AND LAO -- Eric ARRESTS Lao's fall,

fisting lapels and bringing him nose to nose. Fury.

 

ERIC

Time for a sacrifice.

 

Lao's face is a hideous bloody mask with black holes where the

eyes used to be. He smiles gruesomely.

 

LAO

I don't need eyes to take what I

want from you.

 

He EMBRACES Eric and RAMS the killing blade deep into Eric's

back!

 

ON ERIC as he looks down to see the blade protruding from his

sternum. Tight grimace. A lot of pain.

 

ERIC

Can you fly?

 

He pulls Lao into a BACKWARD ROLL down the roof, HOLDING HIM

TIGHT.

 

MOVING ANGLE -- INTERCUTS -- ERIC AND LAO FALL

 

Eric lands on his back, forcing the blade THROUGH himself and

INTO Lao. Eric completes the roll and KICKS Lao off INTO SPACE,

the killing blade still embedded in him!

 

WITH LAO as crashes, sliding, sprawling down PAST Elly's

position. Gets to his knees atop the flying buttress. Sees the

blade in his own chest.

 

CLOSE-UP - ELLY - she sees it all happen.

 

RESUME LAO - a regretful look toward Eric. He PLUMMETS off the

roof edge.

 

ANGLE - ERIC SLIDES DOWN ROOF -- He slows, stopping when Elly

is in frame. He clutches his own chest. Regards his own

shaking hand, drenched in his won blood. Glazed.

 

ON ELLY, as she finally gets the duct tape off her mouth, trying

to get to Eric. She flails and cries out.

 

ELLY

Don't let me fall!

 

CLOSE-UP -- their hands finally meet and GRASP TIGHT.

 

 

EXT. CEMETERY - NIGHT (LATER) (RAIN)

 

A low angle TRACKING SHOT (as when we first met Elly).

 

Eric's and Elly's feet pass graves. Eric's pace is slow, crippled,

limping. They STOP at a grave where elly BENDS INTO FRAME to steal

the flowers there.

 

Eric is bloody and out of it. She helps him walk.

 

ELLY

Now do you get to see her? Shelly, I mean.

 

ERIC

In a better place. I hope.

 

ELLY

You're not gonna come back, are you?

 

Eric's response is halting and uncertain. But he tries to give

her hope. He reaches for Shelly's ring around her neck, holds

it up to her.

 

ERIC

I don't know if I can. But you

have this... and you know where to come.

 

ELLY

You mean you'll, like' dig your way

out of the grave? Euww.

 

Eric is amused by this in spite of his grievous injuries.

 

He grasps Elly's face in his hands and bends, painfully,to kiss

her on the forehead.

 

ERIC

For you, I'll try. Promise.

 

MOVE WITH ERIC

 

Spent, empty, he holds the rose determinedly, but he's never

going to make it the few yards back to his own grave. So close.

 

His legs finally go and he collapses onto the humus. One

groping hand tries to drag him further.

 

ERIC

Leave me now.

 

ANGLE - ELLY

 

Tears on her face. She can't watch this. She TURNS and drops

the flowers on Shelly's grave.

 

ERIC'S POV - HIS OWN GRAVE

 

Still too far away to matter.

 

RESUME ERIC ON GROUND

 

He gives it up, his face sinking into the wet grass for a beat

before SHELLY'S HAND intrudes INTO FRAME to GRASP his hand.

 

No ethereal glow, no heavenly choir... just a near-dead Eric's

blank-faced astonishment, and he moves forward.

 

ANGLE - ELLY - SHELLY'S GRAVE BG

 

She struggles to get her hood up against the rain and roughly

wipes the moisture from her face with her sleeve. She turns

toward Eric's grave. Then, surprised, she looks close.

 

ANGLE - ERIC'S GRAVE

 

Eric is gone. The white rose lies neatly on the top of the

undisturbed earth there.

 

HIGH ANGLE - CEMETERY

 

Emphasizing that Elly is now ALONE in the graveyard.

 

LOW ANGLE on Elly, ROSE in the foreground --

 

She walks OFF. HOLD the rose.

 

CUT TO:

 

 

INT. DARLA'S APARTMENT - DAY (OVERCAST)

 

A grey day but no rain. Elly stands wistfully by the window,

her doll on standby. The apartment is in order and perhaps we

notice a few new items. Gabriel the cat, miraculously ALIVE, is

sprawled on a chair, licking himself. Darla BUSTLES INTO FRAME

B.G. Her wardrobe more upscale, her hair done. Her manner is

hectic but natural.

 

DARLA

Worktime, kiddo. First day, new

job, gotta go.

 

This does not get the expected smile from Elly.

 

DARLA (CONT'D)

You sure you're gonna be okay?

 

Elly turns from the window and NODS silently.

 

ELLY'S POV - OUTSIDE

 

The aforementioned grey day in the city.

 

ANGLE - DARLA AND ELLY AT THE WINDOW.

 

Darla comes up. Arm around Elly. Cheer up; he attitude much

more connected and loving. PUSH IN ON ELLY so we know she is

clutching SHelly's ring tightly in her hand. Darla looks past

Elly, out the window.

 

DARLA

At least it finally stopped

raining.

 

ELLY

It can't rain all the time.

 

Darla kisses Elly on the temple and it out the door. Elly OPENS

her hand to consider the ring. She looks back out the window --

 

ANGLE - THE CROW ON THE LEDGE

 

Elly is looking right at it. Same crow. We're positive. So is

Elly. It TAKES WING and flies away.

 

 

EXT. CEMETERY - DAY

 

An UP ANGLE from Eric's grave toward the tree as the crow FLIES

INTO FRAME and perches there, shucking water. PUSH IN on the

crow. Watching. Waiting.

 

SLOW FADE TO DEAD BLACK. FA

THE END