Escape from L.A.

ESCAPE FROM L.A.

Screenplay by John Carpenter

Debra Hill

Kurt Russell

Produced by Debra Hill

Kurt Russell

Directed by John Carpenter

Cast List:

Kurt RussellSnake Plissken

Stacy KeachMalloy

Steve BuscemiMap to the Stars Eddie

Peter FondaPipeline

George CorrafaceCuervo Jones

Valeria GolinoTaslima

Pam GrierHershe

Michael ForbesBrazen

Cliff RobertsonPresident

A.J. LangerUtopia

Bruce CampbellSurgeon General of Beverly Hills

DARKNESS:

A pounding, metallic beat begins. Twists of sound in a tightrope

rhythm. The snap of a military snare drum.

SUPERIMPOSE:
"1998"

FEMALE NARRATOR:

Forces hostile to the United States grow

strong in the late 20th Century.

A DARK TABLEAU - CITY STREET - LOS ANGELES - NIGHT

Graffiti-smeared walls. Fires raging. Automatic weapons fire.

Shadowy figures dash through the southern California night.

FEMALE NARRATOR:

A great moral crisis grips the nation as

social revolution and a breakdown of the

criminal justice system threaten society.

A LINE OF POLICEMEN - NIGHT

They stand like sentinels. Black uniforms. Battle helmets.

Gleaming military assault weapons. Bullet-proof shields with large

emblems:
the American eagle against a red background, and in bold

letters underneath, "THE UNITED STATES POLICE FORCE".

FEMALE NARRATOR:

To protect and defend its citizens, the

United States Police Force is formed.

A GLOWING HOLOGRAPHIC MAP

Of Los Angeles, on the coast of southern California.

SUPERIMPOSE:
"1999"

FEMALE NARRATOR:

The population of Los Angeles grows to 40

million. The city is ravaged by crime and

immorality. A Presidential candidate

predicts a millennium earthquake will

destroy the city in divine retribution.

The map of L.A. now glows a dark red.

EXT. DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES SKYLINE - DAY

A hot summer's day. Heat ripples distorts the towering shadowing

buildings in the dense smog.

FEMALE NARRATOR:

An earthquake measuring 9.6 on the Richter

scale hits at 12:59 p.m., August 23rd, in

the year 2000.

Suddenly we are hit by the loudest, booming, rolling concussion

you have ever heard. The buildings begin to shake, swaying wildly.

The Bonaventure Hotel implodes, collapses inward in the thudding,

slamming freight train of an earthquake. The 4-level Interchange

as the Santa Monica Freeway shatters, crumbles, pulling exit

ramps, cars, trees, and nearby buildings with it.

SEQUENCE OF RAPID CUTS

Buildings shaking. Streets buckling. Cars rolling, crashing.

People running. Gas mains exploding. Buildings convulsing and

dropping like tinder against an inferno.

THE SANTA MONICA PIER

As the tsunami sweeps in from the ocean, smacking into the

shoreline like the hammer of God, plunging us into darkness.

FEMALE NARRATOR:

After the devastation, the constitution is

damned, and the newly elected President

accepts a lifetime term of office.

HOLOGRAPHIC MAP:

Of the United States. A line tracks along the Mexican border, like

the Berlin Wall.

FEMALE NARRATOR:

Fearing a massive terrorist invasion from

South America, the United States prepares

for war. The Great Wall is built along the

southern border, cutting off the flow of

illegal aliens.

WHAM!

A TORCH-LIT LANDSCAPE - NIGHT

The ruins of L.A. Rubble, smoke, a lethal wasteland. An army of

terrifying figures climbs atop a mountain of debris. They raise

their weapons into the night sky.

FEMALE NARRATOR:

Street gangs, South American terrorists

and the criminally insane capture Los

Angeles, the once-great City of Angels.

ZOOM INTO A HOLOGRAPHIC MAP OF L.A

An unrecognizable L.A. After the big one. Surrounded by water,

L.A. is now an island off the new western shore, tilting on the

edge of the continental plate.

FEMALE NARRATOR:

Now an island on the border of

civilization, L.A. is a no-man's land of

chaos, anarchy and darkness.

A red line tracks along the mountainous areas surrounding the

island, defining the perimeter of the armed fortress. Police

firebases and gun emplacements are indicated in the San Gabriel

Mountains.

FEMALE NARRATOR:

The United States Police Force, like an

army, is encamped in the San Gabriel

Mountains.

ZOOM INTO L.A.

From the glowing, outlined canyons come the cries of rage of a

million lost souls.

FEMALE NARRATOR:

The President's first act as Permanent

Commander-in-Chief is Directive 17:

protect and defend the United States from

this island of the damned, Hell on Earth.

BLACK SCREEN:

SUPERIMPOSE:
"2013 - NOW"

EXT. DARK OCEAN - NIGHT

TRAVELING SHOT low, across the top of the water's surface. Climb

up the side of a massive, rusted supertanker, abandoned, years

ago. Break over the railing to reveal a gigantic neon sign which

screams "NEW LAS VEGAS." The supertanker has been transformed into

a floating resort.

The camera increases speed, moves past huge billboards displaying

gigantic glitzy ads:

"NUCLEAR NIGHTS IN HAVANA" - an extravaganza with fabulous

showgirls and laser recreations of Fidel's final night.

"MUSEUM OF NIGHT CLUB ARTS" - a virtual reality tour featuring

legendary Vegas entertainers.

"FREE ENTERPRISE WORLD" - a virtual Disneyland for the whole

family.

Now camera flies low through glittering streets and back alleyways

filled with gamblers, neon and glitz.

EXT. ALLEY - NEW LAS VEGAS, 2013 - NIGHT

An alley strangled with tourists, gamblers, hookers, hustlers, and

con men - professional expatriates from the West mingling with

excited visitors from all over the world.

SUPERIMPOSE:
"NEW LAS VEGAS OFF THE COAST OF SEATTLE THURSDAY 0330

HOURS G.M.T. "

A Salesman with a chin-mike speaks non-stop, unintelligible

Chinese. A frenzied crowd gathers around him, waving money,

placing bets.

Two men sit at either end of a long table. They are in deep

shadows, facing each other. We only get glimpses of them: One fat.

Mirrored sunglasses. Chinese. His fingers tap on the table. A

cockroach scurries past. Ammo belts. A sheathed combat knife the

size of your arm. .45 automatics in holsters.

The other, dressed in black. An eye-patch. Dangerous. A flash of

two six-guns in holsters. A futuristic gunfighter. The cockroach

dashes past his fingers. WHAP! He squashes it.

The crowd goes nuts, placing bets, yelling and screaming in a

dozen languages.

The salesman places three different shaped, clear shot glasses in

front of the two men. Then he leans over to...

A VAT OF POISONOUS SNAKES. He reaches in, grabs a cobra, pulls it

out. The cobra hisses and squirms. Deftly, the salesman continues

to talk non-stop into his chin-mike as he milks the cobra venom

into the first glass.

He pulls out an ice-pick, jabs it into the snake's throat, and

bleeds a thick green-white liquid into the second glass. Finally,

he slits open the cobra with a large knife, and cuts out the heart

and liver. Tossing aside the dead snake, the salesman squeezes the

heart and liver with his fingers. The juice drips into the third

glass.

Now the salesman stirs the glasses. The poison is clear. The blood

is milky-green. The heart and liver are red. He places the glasses

on the table between the two men.

The two men stare at each other, motionless. The crowd continues

placing bets at a fevered pitch. A titanium white tube floats

above the center of the table. A laser beam of light shines from

one end.

The salesman leans over and flicks on side with his finger,

sending the tube spinning on its axis like a bottle, the light

circling the room before stopping on the fat man's forehead.

The fat man reaches slowly toward the glasses. His hand shakes

slightly. He hesitates. Finally he takes the glass with the red

liquid (the heart and liver), lifts it to his lips, pauses, then

gulps it down.

The crowd explodes. More bets.

The salesman leans over and spins the light tube again, this time

it lands on something black, an eye-patch. Pull back to reveal a

man with an eye-patch.

The man with the eye-patch reaches forward, his hand paused

between the remaining two glasses. He takes the one filled with

milky-green blood and downs it fast. The crowd roars.

One glass left. The two men stare at it intently.

The salesman spins the light tube with more force than before. It

circles again and again, slowing down, speeding up, finally

stopping on the fat man.

The salesman begins yelling over the din of the crowd, shouting at

the fat man. The fat man reaches for the glass of clear poison.

His trembling fingers hover above it. Then he quickly withdraws

his hand.

The crowd reacts, boos, as...

The man with the eye-patch smiles. A slightly, cynical smile. And

without hesitation, he reaches out, grabs the glass of poison, and

drinks it down. The crowd surges forward, but the salesman stops

them with a sweep of his arm. All bets are off.

The two men stand from the table. Take several steps away toward

the end of the alley. Stand facing each other. Two gunfighters.

Flashes of the two men. A piece of a black military boot. A hand

positioned over a six-shooter. Mirrored sunglasses. A sweaty,

trembling lip. And the eye-patched man's one good eye, blue and

clear, staring - hard and calm as a sunny day...

The draw. It happens in an instant. The alley thunders with

gunfire. The guns buck and flash. Then silence. The two men stand

there for a beat, until one of them, the fat man, slumps, falls

face first into the alley, dead.

The crowd goes completely ape sh*t as SNAKE PLISSKEN emerges from

the shadows of the alley, holsters his guns, grabs his take of the

money...

SNAKE PLISSKEN. Long hair. A black eye-patch. A tight-lipped

grimace. The impression of coiled aggression and intense cynicism.

The toughest, most dangerous man on planet earth. A legend.

PLISSKEN strolls out of the alley into the crowd. He counts his

money, pockets it, as a cigarette girl approaches him. PLISSKEN

stops her, pays for a pack of cigs. As she eyes him...

CLOSEUP OF PLISSKEN'S ARM

... the cigarette girl touches him, pricks his skin with her

fingernail. A drop of blood appears.

PLISSKEN turns, stares after her, as the sound of helicopters

rises from above in the night sky. The crowd suddenly starts to

disperse.

Helicopter searchlights blast down on the street. PLISSKEN is

suddenly caught in the glare. He starts to move away...

KACLANG!

Out of the blackness above a huge steel net drops out of nowhere.

The net slams down on top of PLISSKEN, trapping him, driving him

down to the pavement with its weight... PLISSKEN struggles inside

the net as black figures - United States Police Force Officers -

rush toward him, grab the net, tightening it. More cops move for

him as we SLOWLY FADE TO BLACK...

SUPERIMPOSE:
"L.A. FRIDAY 1900 HOURS"

EXT. CONTAINMENT WALL - FIREBASE SEVEN - L.A. - NIGHT

Searchlights sweep down across a column of policemen marching past

a concrete wall. Camera begins to crane up the wall. Sound of

roaring turbines. The howl of the Santa Ana wind.

Camera reaches the top of the wall. Armed police troops stand on

the battlements. Across what looks like an ocean is L.A. The view

is from the Newhall Pass.

Hidden by the Santa Monica Mountains, L.A. glows in the distance

with a hundred fires. Smoke surges from the jagged horizon. Above,

the sky is an angry orange.

ANOTHER ANGLE - TOP OF THE WALL

Res sensor lights glow in evenly spaced intervals. Searchlights

sweep into the darkness. Cannons are in place every 200 feet,

manned by police guards.

EXT. SAN FERNANDO SEA - NIGHT

Water stretches into blackness. This was once the San Fernando

Valley, but now it's all underwater. Pieces of debris - tops of

buildings, the tail of an airplane, a radio tower - stick up above

the surface. We can make out the letters of an old, half-sunken

sign:
"SAN FERNANDO VALLEY MALL"

EXT. THE WALL - NIGHT

The wall stretches to the northwest up to the Santa Susanna Pass.

Portions of the 118 Freeway arch up out of the water.

EXT. FIREBASE SEVEN - BEHIND THE WALL - NIGHT

Firebase Seven is a fortified base camp in the San Gabriel

Mountains. It is a sprawling police complex with low concrete

bunkers, gun emplacements, satellite communications, vehicles,

troops, the works. ON A LARGE ASPHALT FIELD, opposite the main

complex is Rotor City - row after row of black, multi-bladed,

totally evil police battle helicopters parked like giant bugs on

the ground.

A throng of policemen gather at the edge of Rotor City yelling and

cheering, their fists in the air. Cops with camcorders videotape

the event. A police anchor reports...

POLICE ANCHOR:

He's been the Force's Most Wanted Man for

10 years. Convicted of 27 moral crimes. I

can tell you, the excitement around here

is...

(a great roaring skyward)

Here he comes!

A MASSIVE 7-ROTORED, 40-BLADED HELICOPTER TRANSPORT comes slamming

down out of the black sky and lands. The growing crowd of cheering

cops goes nuts like fans at a football game. They slap hands,

dance wildly.

INT. COMMAND HQ - MAIN CONTROL ROOM - NIGHT

A mammoth room filled with high-tech instrumentation. A glowing

holographic map of L.A. fills one wall. Most of the control

personnel have left their work stations and gather around TV sets

all showing the Police Channel: a view of the helicopter transport

sitting on the asphalt and the cheering crowds at the edge of

Rotor City.

A tall, steel-faced officer sits at his desk. This is Firebase

Commander MAC "BIG DOG" MALLOY. Hard, battle weary features.

BRAZEN, a section Lieutenant, comes up.

BRAZEN:

Commander Malloy. They're bringing him

out, sir.

Malloy rises from his chair, steps to a nearby TV set, watches the

scene from the Police Channel.

MALLOY:

So we finally got him.

EXT. ROTOR CITY - NIGHT

The crowd of cops is growing to a frenzy of wild anticipation.

POLICE ANCHOR:

Hold one! The door is opening!

The door of the helicopter transport slowly lowers like a

drawbridge. Out of its black belly comes...

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