It's based off one of the Turner/Frank short stories I wrote some time back. As you know, Turner and Frank or homicide detectives. So yeah, it's a police-procedural kind of movie.
I want it to make it visually unique. And I want to fold quite a bit of music into it. Michael Mann comes to mind to compare the style I'm trying to convey. But Mann's work is not quite what I have in mind. I want to rely more on John Ford's sparsity of dialogue and more on the images themselves in telling the story. And of course, I want action.
In checking out the first scene you got to remember this; it's a double-image screen. Two different sets of action are going on at the same time. Confusing to explain. But I'm thinking it's gonna be visually stunning to behold.
Or maybe I'm just biting off too much to chew. I dunno.
But tell me what you think.
Dubious Intent
FADE IN:
(Double tracking-shots dividing the screen at the same time)
(TRACKING-SHOT NO. ONE)
INT. BACHELOR’S APT.—MORNING:
A SERIES OF ANGLE SHOTS
ANGLE SHOT NO. ONE: A man steps out of his bedroom and into a small hallway.
We see only the man’s TORSO and LEGS. He has on a
white SHIRT and a pair of tailored, expensive gray
SLACKS. As he walks down the hall we HEAR the hum
of an ELECTRIC SHAVER.
In the background we HEAR the grind of downtown traffic.
Screeching BRAKES—diesel engines—SIRENS wailing—
HORNS blaring.
SHAFTS of sunlight SLANT through big windows and
CREATE puddles of light on HARDWOOD FLOORS as
he walks through each.
ANGLE SHOT NO. TWO: The man enters a KITCHEN. The kitchen is PRISTINE
and SPARTAN in its cleanliness. He walks past a
REFRIGERATOR and PUNCHES the ‘play’ button of an
expensive stereo setting on the counter beside the frig.
Immediately MUSIC begins to play (The group, Deep
Dish, and their song FLASHDANCE)(the music plays
throughout the entire set of tracking-shots)
He TURNS to his LEFT and opens the frig’s door. He
grabs a long-neck bottle of beer and twist’s off the cap
and lift’s it to his lips. We SEE only the man’s strong
CHIN and a thin, well cropped black MUSTACHE. He
takes a long PULL from the bottle, the turns again to
face the small kitchen TABLE setting in front of the frig.
ANGLE SHOT NO. THREE: On the table is a WHITE towel. On the towel is a
DISASSEMBLED .45 caliber KIMBER semi-automatic
pistol. The weapon is a COLD BLUE piece of machined
steel brightly POLISHED and deadly.
We SEE only his HANDS as he begins to
assemble the pistol. He does so LOVINGLY and
METHODICALLY.
When assembled, the man reaches over to a kitchen
chair and grabs SHOULDER HOLSTER and WEBBING.
He INSERTS the gun into the holster and then sets the
holster and webbing onto the table before he begins to
button his shirt. Afterward he SLINGS over his shoulder
the holster and webbing and straps himself in. Reaching
over to a SECOND chair he grabs an expensive blue
SPORTS COAT and slides into it.
INT. LARGE GARAGE: The man exists through a door and begins DESCENDING
down set of wooden stairs. BELOW him is a long, narrow
garage floor filled with classic American-made MUSCLE
CARS of the 60’s though the 80’s. MUSTANGS,
BARRACUDAS, A PLYMOUTH ROAD-RUNNER are
immediately visible.
ANGLE SHOT NO. FOUR: He walks over to a large double-door steel CABINENT,
unlocks it, opens a door, and reaches in for a set of keys.
TURNING he strolls over to a 1967 GT 350 SHELBY
MUSTANG. The car is WHITE with RED racing stripes
running down the length of the car’s hood and roofline.
Sliding into the car he starts the engine. The deep,
powerful RUMBLE of the FORD V-8 is almost
SENSUAL to hear.
He slowly BACKS the MUSTANG up and then carefully
makes his way past the rest of his collection of cars and
EXITS out through a garage door.
EXT. RANCH HOUSE—MORNING: The SHELBY MUSTANG rolls to a fast
stop in front of a large, well-kept RANCH STYLE suburban
home. In front of the house is a DEEP, LUSH green yard.
Littering the yard are BICYCLES, TRICYCLES, and an
INFLATABLE children’s swimming pool.
On the porch is a rather unusual looking MAN and his
NORMAL looking family. The man looks like a modern
day NEANDERTHAL. He has stringy red hair, apparently
no NECK and a thick, cement-block shaped HEAD.
His wife is absolutely GEORGEOUS. The four boys, all
under the age of TWELVE, each are normal looking.
The NEANDERTHAL kisses his wife on the forehead,
JOSTLES the hair of each of his kids, then TURNS
and JOGS his way to the MUSTANG.
EXT. DIFFERENT SHOT: Just as FRANK MORALES climbs into the car
a CELL PHONE rings. The phone belongs to the DRIVER.
TURNER HAHN reaches inside his sport coat and retrieves
the phone.
TURNER
(close-up shot—revealing someone with a
strong resemblance to CLARK GABLE.)
VOICE
(coming out of cellphone speaker)
Turner, there’s been report of gunfire
over on Crawford and Holmes. Some
black-and-white’s are in route now.
But I want you and Frank to check it out.
TURNER
Sure, lieutenant. Be there in less
than twenty minutes.
EXT. SHOT: Mustang ACCELERATES rapidly from curb just as FRANK turns to
look at TURNER with a questioning glance.
(END OF TRACKING-SHOT NO. ONE:)
(TRACKING-SHOT NO. TWO)
INT. OFFICE FLOOR—MORNING:
A SERIES OF ANGLE SHOTS
ANGLE SHOT NO. ONE: A set of ELEVATOR doors open. In
the elevator is a woman. We SEE only her TORSO.
She is wearing a dark blue dress. Her FIGURE is
quite ALLURING.
The woman moves out of the elevator. She moves
as if she has a PURPOSE and MISSION to
accomplish. BRISKLY she walks pasts DESKS
and WORK STATIONS which are currently
unoccupied. In the background we hear the
CLOYING sounds of MUSAK playing some
unrecognizable song.
ANGLE SHOT NO. TWO: The woman makes a RIGHT turn and enters a
private office. The office belongs to the corporate
owner—definitely MALE in DÉCOR. One wall is
LITTERED with the heads of BIG GAME trophies.
A second wall is FILLED with PHOTOS of the
corporate owner KNEELING beside fresh kills of
various BIG GAME ANIMALS.
The woman walks across the LENGTH of the
deeply carpeted and SILENT office and comes to
a HALT in front of a huge glass-enclosed GUN
CASE. She UNLOCKS the case with a KEY and
reaches in and grips REMINGTON bolt-action
.308 caliber RIFLE. The weapon his a long, powerful
BUSHNEL telescope on it, along with a thick BULL
BARREL. Attached to the barrel is a TRIPOD.
Holding the rifle in her arms like a BABY she uses
one hand to open a drawer below the rack of guns.
From out of the drawer she removes ONE long,
GLEAMING brass cartridge. TURNING, she leaves
GUN CASE and the DRAWER open and walk’s toward
the office’s large OAK Desk setting just in front of
a large PLATE GLASS WINDOW.
ANGLE SHOT NO. THREE: The woman GENTLY deposits the weapon
onto the carpet directly in FRONT of the window.
She then slips to the carpet and WRAPS the gun
into her arms. She SLIDES the bolt action BACK
and insert the cartridge into the FIRING CHAMBER.
We have, so far, not seen her face.
Cradling the rifle she PUSHES the muzzle gently
through a HOLE cut into the lower right hand of the
WINDOW. Lifting the rifle up, she LOWERS her
head and settles into a PRONE firing position. We
catch a GLIMPSE of bright PLATINUM blond hair.
A HAND reaches up and begins ADJUSTING the
view of the scope. SATISFIED she begins a WAITING
game.
EXT. MORNING TRAFFIC: A BIRD’S EYE view of a long, straight city four
lane AVENUE jammed with bumper-to-bumper
traffic. On either side of the street is one
UNINTERRUPTED set of one or two-storied
commercial buildings. In the DISTANCE,
GLISTENING in the morning sun, is a
five-storied GLASS office building.
ANGLE SHOT NO. FOUR: In the INTERSECTION of the street is a
LINCOLN CONTINENTAL TOWN CAR. It is setting with its left turning signal blinking
WAITING to make turn.
Inside the car is the corporate CEO waiting
impatiently to make his turn. He is a man with a
HARD face. He once was an ATHELTE and he
is still in relatively good shape. But he has no
PATIENCE. His eyes have a HARD, CRUEL
look in them.
INT. CORPORATE OFFICE: Through the SCOPE we see the CROSSHAIRS
zero onto the PROFILE head shot of the man
in the TOWNCAR. At first the image is slightly
BLURRED but rapidly comes into FOCUS.
The man is centered into the crosshairs
ANGLE SHOT NO. FIVE: A FINGER curls around the TRIGGER of the
rifle. For a second or two it just TOUCHES
the trigger. But then we SEE it begin to
SQUEEZE slowly.
The rifle FIRES. The explosion of the firing is
DEFEANING. It LEAPS off the carpet but the
woman is in complete CONTROL.
EXT. LINCOLN TOWNCAR: There is an EXPLOSION of shattering GLASS.
The DRIVER is HURLED VIOLENTLY to the
passenger side of the car. The passenger side
WINDOW is COATED with blood and
brain matter.
The TOWNCAR is suddenly rocked from behind.
A JEEP CHEROKEE. The Jeep’s front end has
buried itself into the rear bumper and trunk of the
town car.
ANGLE SHOT NO. SIX: A young teenage boy gets out of the Jeep. He is
dressed in a high school LETTER JACKET and
is wearing blue jeans and SNEAKERS. Around him
IRATE drivers are honking their HORNS and screaming
obscenities at him as he walks up to the driver’s side
of the Lincoln. He too looks angry as he bends down
to peer into the car. But anger turns to horror as he sees
the BLOODY MESS within. He steps back, bends over
suddenly, and VOMITS all over the street.
INT. CORPORATE OFFICE: The woman, still WRAPED around the rifle like a
LOVER, wipes all of her fingerprints off the gun. She
then comes to her feet, walks to the gun case, and wipes
it clean of all prints. Satisfied all has been wiped clean
she turns and calmly walks out of the office and
DISAPPEARS.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. SHOT—STORM CLOUDS. Tower thunderheads, moving like an ominous
gray/blue curtains, building up higher and higher
into what once was deep blue skies. The sounds
of distant THUNDER is heard rumbling repeatedly.
EXT. SHOT—PEDESTRIANS standing around on the sidewalks staring at the same
scene. HOT pedestrians. Definitely suffering from the GRUELING
SUMMER HEAT.
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