Apocalypse Now Page #21

WILLARD:

What happened here?

COLBY:

What -- happened here.

WILLARD:

Charlie?

COLBY:

NVA regulars. They're coming

again tonight. Tet -- their

big -- assault.

Willard is the man in the middle -- he doesn't know what

to say to this man, but he understands the forces that

pounded him. He takes his arm.

229 REVERSE ON COLBY

looks at Willard, not understanding.

230 REVERSE ON WILLARD

Six months later, and he and Colby would be identical.

WILLARD:

I'm taking you back.

Moonby slaps himself in the head with his hand.

MOONBY:

Oh, no, don´t say that.

COLBY:

Take us back. Take us back !

But, the operation -- the team.

Colonel Kurtz has such plans for

-- the team.

WILLARD:

Take me to him, Major.

Colby starts, and then, seeing the shrunken heads on

poles, he turns, agitated, to Willard:

COLBY:

I had nothing to do with these

operations -- I did not do the

planning -- none of us did.

It was all Colonel Kurtz -- he

was the genius. You'll see --

the genius of our Colonel. He

should be made a General, don't

you think? A General? It's...

Suddenly, frightened, he stops. Without looking Willard

knows that Kurtz is standing behind him. He turns.

Kurtz has stepped out from his headquarters: He is

a powerful man, though obviously very ill. He slowly

attempts to pull the remnants of his uniform together,

though it is ripped and bloodied, and now combined with

primitive ornaments designating him a tribal chief, as

well as his U.S.A. Colonel's insignia. He is feverish,

with long blonde hair and beautiful features. His eyes

almost hypnotize. His midsection is bandaged from what

seems to be a serious wound.

232 VIEW ON WILLARD

This is not what he expected. He is quiet, and then,

automatically, he comes to an attention.

WILLARD:

Colonel Kurtz, I guess.

KURTZ:

I'm Kurtz.

WILLARD:

(he salutes)

Captain B.L. Willard reporting

his presence, sir.

233 VIEW ON KURTZ

looking at him a long time. Then he returns the salute,

and simply:

KURTZ:

At ease...

(pause, as he regards him)

Sit down.

234 MED. VIEW

There is, of course, no chair or anything like a chair.

But behind and around him, Kurtz's men begin to sit on

the ground, cross-legged. Finally, Willard sits as well.

Then Kurtz does.

Moonby lights a joint, and passes it respectfully to

Kurtz -- throughout the scene, the joint is passed from

man to man, ritualistically.

KURTZ:

(slowly)

Why did you come to ... my province.

WILLARD:

We were attacked -- down river.

We need supplies and medical

help.

KURTZ:

You were not coming here, to

see me?

WILLARD:

(finding it more and

more difficult to go

on with this lie)

No -- no, sir.

KURTZ:

You came up my river -- in that

small boat. So simple. I

always thought the final justice

would come from the sky, like

we did.

(pause)

You are the final justice,

aren't you?

WILLARD:

What do you mean, Colonel?

KURTZ:

(gently)

What other reason could you

have come? A Captain. Ranger.

Paratrooper. Graduate of the

Recondo School. Am I right

about these things?

WILLARD:

You know you're right.

There is a clear, incredible intelligence about this man.

KURTZ:

Then the Agency approached you.

Maybe in a bar in Quinon or

Pleiku. Simple. A year's pay

for one life. Perhaps a village

elder, or a tax collector.

Nobody's orders but your own.

Exciting work.

235 CLOSE ON WILLARD

He remains silent.

236 CLOSE ON KURTZ

He smiles.

KURTZ:

You've spent tome at the Royal

Tracking School of Malaysia.

I can tell from the way the

laces on your boots are tied.

I understand you, Captain. We

understand each other.

There is a long pause, as the two men regard each other.

Then Willard reaches to his holstered .45 -- withdraws

it, and places it on the dirt before Kurtz, as an act

assuring Kurtz that he is not an assasin.

WILLARD:

Do you know me?

KURTZ:

Yes.

Kurtz reaches down; takes the .45 -- and without another

word or gesture, shoots and kills a man.

KURTZ:

(continuing)

Do you know me ?

He throws the .45 back on the dirt. Rises, and walks

back into the cavernous headquarters behind the shrunken

heads. Moonby scampers off after him, a respectful

distance behind. Even Willard is stunned.

CHEF:

Holy sh*t.

237 EXT. KURTZ'S OUTPOST - FULL VIEW - TWILIGHT

Dotted with campfires; Montagnard families -- it is like

a primitive civilization.

238 VIEW BY THE TEMPLE WALL

Willard is alone by a campfire -- his M-16 leans by a wall

next to him. He is exhausted.

Lance sleeps by the fire, a little distance away. Chef

approaches, crouches down.

CHEF:

Captain -- they've been probed

all this week -- Cong and NVA

regulars. There's gonna be a

big offense any time.

WILLARD:

I know.

Lance stirs; starts to wake up.

CHEF:

What are we doing here?

WILLARD:

Kurtz. I'm supposed to kill him,

just like he said.

KURTZ:

Yeah, I can see that. He's

f***in nuts --

WILLARD:

Yeah.

CHEF:

He killed that guy without feeling

anything.

WILLARD:

Not a thing.

CHEF:

When you kill Cong, don't you

feel something.

WILLARD:

Sure.

(thinking)

Recoil... I feel the recoil of

my rifle.

Willard rises. Chef looks at him, confused and frightened.

239 FULL SHOT - WALL - WILLARD, CHEF , LANCE

Willard walks along the top of a thick wall -- sandbagged

and dug out every so often for an M-60 or a mortar

emplacement.

Wild looking savages man these guns, and seem to bow

to Willard as he passes.

WILLARD:

This is good -- triple overlapping

fields of fire -- walls so thick

ordinary artillery just cleans

the moss off their surfaces.

A woman tentatively moves to Willard, bowing, and then

runs off to her bunker.

WE ARE TRACKING with them as they move past the groups

of people, huddled by their fires... men, women and

children. Skulls, shrunken and otherwise hang from

every hut -- adorn every sandbagged bunker -- dried

scalps hang from barbed wire. A child is chewing on

a big piece of almost raw meat.

WILLARD:

(continuing)

I've done things, when I was

alone in the jungle -- that I

never told anyone about.

They continue past amount where the shattered wreck of

half a helicopter is laying. It has been altered and

fortified with sandbags and concertina wire. The wreck

lays on its side so that a 7.62 mini-gun that was mounted

there sticks up above the sandbags. The emplacement is

built on amound so the gun commands a clear field of

fire into the jungle beyond.

Some Americans, barely recognizible because of their

beards and savage manner, sit near the gun. Several

Montagnard children giggle at their feet and play with

bayonets.

CHEF:

This is evil -- evil, Captain.

We're all gonna die here.

WILLARD:

Yeah, I know.

CHEF:

I don't get it -- You said your

mission was to kill him. Let's

do it, an' get our asses outta

here. This Kurtz is ruining the

war; I mean, this don't look

good for America !

WILLARD:

(lost in his thoughts)

... he's an amazing officer.

CHEF:

You got to kill this sonuvabitch

-- Lance and me, we don'´t

understand none of this -- Jesus,

Captain -- I don't wanna die here

-- Do it quick.

Lance just stands there; his eyes vacant.. He sort of

nods, sucking a joint.

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