Cast Away Page #15

EXT. SUMMIT - LATER

Chuck struggles to the top of the hill. His fire has been

extinguished by the rain. In the distance, far against the

horizon, he sees a sail -- or is it a cloud? The whiteness

shimmers against the horizon. Chuck squints. Whatever it

was, it is gone. Above him some contrails from jets mark the

sky.

Furious, he kicks his signal fire, scattering the burnt-out

coals.

EXT. BEACH - LATER THAT DAY

Chuck makes a new mark on his calendar tree. Then he stops.

He CUTS an angry big line under the last mark, then hacks

away at the palm tree, slashing it with the stone knife,

ripping and marking through all his dates. Finally the stone

knife breaks in two. Chuck drops the broken half and catches

his breath.

EXT. CAVE - NIGHT

Chuck enters the cave. No signal fires burn. The island is

dark.

EXT. SUMMIT - DAY

Chuck stands on the summit, staring out to sea. Nothing, not

even a contrail, not even a whale spout.

EXT. CLIFF - MOMENTS LATER

He is on his way down, suddenly he sees something and stops.

It's the HANDPRINT, the bloody handprint, his own handprint.

He slowly extends his hand and covers it, then pulls it away.

Traces it with his fingers.

INT. CAVE - DAYS LATER

Chuck has the beginnings of an artist's studio. Several

large clam shells hold paint. A few egg shells are lined up.

Brushes have been made from roots and feathers.

Chuck covers his hand with paint and makes a handprint on the

wall of the cave. He stands back and looks at it.

INT. CAVE - DAY

He chews some berries, then holds his hand against the wall

of the cave and spits a dark blue mist around it. When he

takes his hand away, the silhouette of his handprint remains.

INT. CAVE - DAY

With the Angel Wing Box as a model, Chuck dips one of his

feather brushes in paint, and make a tentative line on the

wall of the cave. He works hesitantly, rubs off a line,

tries again.

INT. CAVE - NIGHT

Chuck is finishing his first figure, a crude portrait of a

man -- himself? Hard to tell. He examines his work. He

takes some shells and sticks them on as eyes.

Chuck picks up Wilson, thinks.

CHUCK:

You old airhead, you need a makeover.

He takes some charcoal out of his fire and draws eyebrows on

the ball. Then, he mashes some berries, dips his fingers in

the juice, and makes lips. He sticks shells on with clay for

eyes. Then he looks at the face.

CHUCK:

Wilson, you bad!

He sits back and regards his companion. He gestures around

the cave at the new paintings.

CHUCK:

What do you think?

But Wilson doesn't have an opinion.

CHUCK:

You don't share much, do you?

Idly Chuck takes down the Angel Box.

CHUCK:

I guess I know how Kelly felt.

For a long time he studies the wings on it. With a stick, he

tries to draw a similar wing on the dusty floor of the cave.

Dissatisfied, he wipes it away. He looks at the Angel Box.

Casually he reaches over and cuts it open with a stone knife.

Inside he finds two bottles of green salsa. And a letter.

He reads over it.

CHUCK:

You said our life was a prison. Dull.

Boring. Empty. I can't begin to tell

you how much that hurt. I don't want to

lose you. I'm enclosing some salsa, the

verde you like. Use it on your sticky

rice and think of home. Then come home

-- to me. We'll find the spice in our

lives again. Together. I love you.

Always. Bettina.

Visibly moved, Chuck puts down the letter.

CHUCK:

He never got it.

EXT. ISLAND - DAY

The monsoon pours down. Wind whips the palm trees. The

waves are gray and angry, tearing at the beach.

INT. CAVE - DAY

As the rain pours down outside, Chuck studies the sodden,

ruined photograph of Kelly, which is really only a gray mess.

CHUCK:

She's probably found someone else. I

would have.

Chuck dips his finger into one of the bowls of colors and

streaks it slowly across his face. To exorcise his

loneliness, he will paint on the most expressive canvas there

is:
his own body.

CHUCK PAINTING HIMSELF - MONTAGE

Close-up on scarred fingers, as they paint on Chuck's face

and body. Color on skin. Tight dramatic shots of Chuck

being transformed.

Chuck takes white paint and covers his hand. Then he presses

it into his chest and makes a handprint. He draws a yellow

spiral on his leg, then takes red and makes jagged lightning

bolts on his chest on either side of the hand.

WATER:

Shimmers in a gourd. Chuck's face swims into focus. It has

been painted white. Looking at himself in the reflection, he

dots on blue stars with dark blue from squid ink.

EXT. CAVE - LATER

The rains have stopped. The island is washed bright and

green.

ON CHUCK:

As he stands up in the cove. His face is white with blue

stars. Handprints circle his torso, flanked by red lightning

bolts. Braided cords circle his biceps. Bone necklaces hang

from his neck. Feathers jut out from his hair.

EXT. JUNGLE - DAY

Chuck goes from tree to tree, making handprints along his

path. Chuck was here. This is his mark.

EXT. PALM GROVE - DAY

He covers the calendar trees with handprints. Then stops.

Sees something. Eyes fixed on the beach, he walks toward the

shoreline.

EXT. BEACH - DAY

Chuck emerges from the palm trees, and now we see what he had

seen.

A FIFTY-FIVE GALLON OIL DRUM.

And another one. TWO. Chuck stares at the barrels.

CHUCK:

Hello.

EXT. BEACH - LATER

Chuck sits staring at the oil drums. It's almost as if he is

hesitating to take advantage of them. That he may not want,

really, to leave now.

Then his inner struggle ends.

CHUCK:

What the hell are you waiting for?

EXT. BEACH - LATER

Filled with determination, Chuck rolls a barrel up the beach.

EXT. BEACH - LATER

Using a palm tree as a fulcrum, Chuck hauls hard on a rope

made of vines, pulling the barrel up off the beach.

EXT. JUNGLE - DAY

Chuck throws aside palm leaves, revealing...the remains of

his raft.

INT. CAVE - NIGHT

Chuck is drawing with a purpose now. And we see what he is

working on. The plans for a raft.

INT. CAVE - NIGHT

Chuck is making a list of what he needs. He works intently.

CHUCK:

Canteens. Sea anchor. Got to weave

rope. Spears. A sail.

EXT. JUNGLE - DAY

Chuck lashes the barrels onto the raft. Checks the knots.

Lashes more rope.

INT. CAVE - NIGHT

He sews dresses together with handmade fiber string.

INT. CAVE - NIGHT

He weaves videotape together to form a sea anchor.

EXT. BEACH - DAY

Chuck digs a channel toward the raft.

INT. CAVE - DAY

Chuck constructs a water collection device with some FedEx

boxes, some plastic weighted with a stone. Explains it to

Wilson.

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