Apocalypse Now Page #11

They move into a slight clearing.

WILLARD:

(whispering)

-- quiet --

Chef crouches close -- redies his M-16. Willard ges-

tures that he heard something; he points.

105 MED. SHOT - DIFFERENT ANGLE

PAN SLOWLY over jungle -- END REVEALING Willard and Chef.

WILLARD:

(silent)

There...

He points -- motions Chef to move away -- they cover

the spot. A few yards from them they hear something

move. It is obviously no small jungle creature. They

walk toward a patch of black elephant grass; their guns

at the ready. They look at each other. Willard is

cold, methodical, doing something he knows well. There

is a noise again -- some of the growth rustles. He

and Chef move a distance apart, and join in stalking

the probable V.C. Willard directs the Chef with hand

gestures, and bird and cricket sounds. They move

stealthily, closing the apex of their triangle on the

hunted. The two men drop low into the elephant grass,

and remain motionless. Then Willard makes the cricket

noise, and they move closer. Willard's left hand edges

out along the M-16's far end, so that he only has to

point the finger of that hand and he will hit what he

wants. He makes another command and they rush the

trapped enemy.

106 MED. SHOT - THE ELEPHANT GRASS - WILLARD AND CHEF

Suddenly there is a RUSHING SOUND -- The grass folds

down quickly toward them -- willard plants his feet and

from the hip lets go FULL AUTOMATIC. The Chef retreats

FIRING short BURSTS into the grass -- the grass folds

almost to Willard -- then a huge tiger leaps out at

them; snarling magnificently. They FIRE wildly,

emptying their clips.

CHEF:

It's a motherfucking tiger --

goddamn...

He turns and bolts through the jungle, as scared as a

man can be.

CHEF:

(continuing; screaming)

Goddamn -- Jesus Christ tiger --

motherfucking tiger -- ohhhhhhhhh --

Willard jams another clip in his gun and backs out of

the clearing, covering the bushes and runs, scared

out of his head as well.

107 FULL SHOT - THE BOAT - THE CREW

They all are armed -- Lance has the twin 50's pointed into

the jungle. Chef comes screaming out of the brush, throws

his rifle into the boat and dives headfirst after it.

CHEF:

(hysterical)

Ohhhh -- tiger ! Oh goddamn !

It's a tiger ! Jesus Christ !

Goddamn, a tiger ! Ohhhhhhhh.

The Chief tries to grab him; takes his gun away, but is

unable to take a hold of the Chef, as he slithers around

the boat, trying to find safety. willard follows from the

jungle -- The Chef is moaning and stares off into the night.

LANCE:

What's this tiger sh*t?

WILLARD:

No sh*t... I think I shot the

hell out of him.

LANCE:

You think?

WILLARD:

I wasn´t looking.. I was running.

CLEAN:

Was a big tiger -- no sh*t?

WILLARD:

Who stopped to measure him -- let's

get the hell out of here.

CHEF:

A motherfucking tiger -- I could've

been killed.

The ENGINE ROARS to life -- the P.B.R. pulls away with great

speed.

CHIEF:

You forgot the mangoes, didn't

you?

CHEF:

Mangoes? There as a f***ing

tiger in the woods -- I could've

been eaten alive. I'm never

going into that jungle again.

I gotta remember never get out of

the boat; never get outta the boat.

They move off; swallowed by the darkness. The JUNGLE

NOISES remain, as OUR VIEW BEGINS a MOVE INTO the jungle.

WILLARD (V.O.)

He was right, the Chef -- never

go into the jungle, unless you're

ready to go all the way.

DISSOLVE TO :

108 EXT. THE BOAT IN MARINA DEL RAY - NIGHT

Willard, thinking, his BACK TO US. Suddenly, he turns

around, and we SEE his face.

WILLARD (V.O.)

What was in the jungle? What was

there, waiting for me?

He lights the cigarette; the light of his match illuminating

his face momentarily. There is something different about

him; a maturity, a cool inner peace.

WILLARD (V.O.)

(continuing)

... Kurtz was in there. Or was he;

was it Kurtz? He was just a name

to me now; I couldn't remember a

face, a voice -- he just didn't

add up to me. all his liberal

bullshit about the end of savagery

-- and the role of our culture,

our way of life...

Willard looks toward the group of people on the boat --

there is still some MUSIC. They talk and drink and laugh.

WILLARD (V.O.)

(continuing)

Our way of life -- I really

started to look forward to

meeting Kurtz again.

DISSOLVE TO :

109 WATERWAY - MOVING FORWARD - DAY

We HEAR:

RADIO:

-- must remember that we owe

our thanks for these to the

wonderful services of the U.S.O.

-- here's another oldie -- this

one dedicated...

110 VIEW ON CHEF

by himself on the P.B.R.; he has wiped mud under his

eyes to kill the glare; it is incredibly hot. He is

barechested, wearing a hat made of a banana palm.

RADIO:

... to the fire team at An Khe

from their groovy C.O. Fred the

Head --

111 VIEW ON THE GROUP

RADIO:

The Rolling Stones and "Satisfaction..."

CHEF:

Outa sight.

The SONG BLARES ON -- they all dig it.

PAN TO Willard, sitting alone in the rear, reading from

his file on Kurtz. We REVEAL Lance in the b.g., water-

skiing behind the P.B.R., slaloming back and forth on

his single ski to the MUSIC -- jumping the wake occasion-

ally.

112 NEW VIEW - ON THE P.B.R.

Lance waterskiing to "Satisfaction."

113 VIEW ON CLEAN

alert, at the rear of the boat -- his M-16 ready, just

in case.

114 VIEW ON WILLARD

Willard opens a letter from the packet.

We can SEE it is a private correspondence -- feminine

writing on the envelope.

WILLARD (V.O.)

The dossier of A Dtachment

contained letters from the families

and wives of Kurtz' men There

were letters from Kurtz' wife as

well.

115 CLOSE SHOT - ON THE LETTER

It is addressed to Colonel Walter Kurtz -- in the corner

is the return addess of Mrs. Colonel Walter Kurtz --

Willard's hand fushes through the packet and comes up

with apicture of a very attractive, thirty-five year

old American Beauty... She is classically American.

116 CLOSE SHOT - ON WILLARD

looking at the picture -- puts it back, then opens the

letter, straightens it.

WILLARD (V.O.)

Dearest Walt -- I have to confess

something. I know how you feel

about this, but I had to ask Bob

to find out what he could -- I

just couldn't stand it anymore,

not knowing where you are, whether

you're alive or dead. I'm sorry

Walt, I'm sorry I said that. Bob

didn't tell me anything -- he said

he couldn't -- I can't stand it

anymore, Walt -- I just can't

stand it.

Willard looks out at the jungle.

Deep imppenetrable jungle -- dark and primeval forests

pass by. The Rolling Stones CHANT on in the b.g.

WILLARD (V.O.)

(continuing)

I have to take the kids to school

every morning now -- carpools just

never work out.

Jeff came home with a black eye

on Tuesday but said he won anyway.

He wouldn't tell me what the fight

was about. Jeff keeps asking

where you are -- he has maps of

Viet Nam in his room now. He

misses you very much. I can't

take this much longer, Walt. I

love you and I just can't stand

it.

117 CLOSE ON WILLARD

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