![Find Escape from L.A. on Amazon](https://www.scripts.com/images/script/639_escape-from-la.png)
Escape from L.A. Page #8
- R
- Year:
- 1996
- 101 min
- 517 Views
Cuervo crouches on the roof, hissing at Plissken.
CUERVO JONES:
Later, Snake. We finish it later.
PLISSKEN:
Lies there for several beats, then climbs to his feet.
... disappears up Sunset.
PLISSKEN:
Stands alone in the deserted street. The ruins of a supermarket,
cheap motels, liquor stores - all empty, desolate.
He looks over to see the broken remains of his pocket walkie.
After a beat, he starts moving up Sunset, checking his two 9mm
handguns, slipping them into their holsters.
EXT. SUNSET AND DOHENY - NIGHT
On the border of Beverly Hills, Sunset stretches off into the
darkness beyond the intersection. A slight wind blows litter
aimlessly along. There are occasional sounds: Creaks, distant
clangs.
Plissken approaches the intersection. He carries Utopia's compass
homing device. It is silent. The small screen's blank. Then
Plissken glances at his wrist watch.
CLOSE - WRIST WATCH
Three hours gone.
Plissken stands for a moment, staring off down Sunset...
VOICE (V.O.)
Snake Plissken, right?
He spins around.
Sits in an old beach chair on the sidewalk, a map to the stars
sign in front of him. In his late 50's, he's a petty thief, con
man. He's been hustling tourists and everybody else all his life.
Wow! Snake Plissken!
Map To The Stars Eddie listens to WAYWARD WIND by Gogi Grant on a
small, metal-plated portable radio. He clicks off the radio,
rises, walks over to Plissken.
You're a star in your own right, you know
that? Hey, I'm Map To The Stars Eddie. How
you doin'?
PLISSKEN:
Where'd they go?
Man, I'd love to have your autograph,
Snake.
He searches around in his pockets, comes up with pen and paper.
I've been hearing about you ever since
that New York deal back in the 90's.
You're one smooth operator.
(offers pen and paper)
Could you sign one to Wolf, one to Death's
Head, one to Slasher Smith...?
Plissken grabs him by the throat.
PLISSKEN:
Where are they?
Who? You mean Cuervo Jones? He's the man
with the juice, Snake. Got the President's
daughter. Setting up a citywide truce. Big
doings.
Plissken draws a 9mm and points it at Map To The Stars Eddie's
forehead.
PLISSKEN:
Location.
Cuervo's got a place near Venice, where
the big birds fly. Nice digs, too. I've
been there, y'know.
Plissken releases him, as suddenly the tracer beeps. On the device
Plissken sees a small red pulsing dot. West.
Nice little gizmo you got there.
(whispers conspiratorially)
Look, Snake. I've got connections in this
town. You need something, I'm your man.
Without a word Plissken turns, walks away down Sunset Boulevard
toward Beverly Hills.
Hey - you can't go there, Snake. You can't
Plissken's figure disappears...
The old Beverly Hills sign. It's been painted over in dripping red
letters:
"QUIET - SURGICAL ZONE - STAY OUT"Plissken ignores the sign, keeps walking down a completely dark
Sunset Boulevard.
EXT. SUNSET BOULEVARD - BEVERLY HILLS - NIGHT
Plissken walks past the once-beautiful mansions along Sunset. Now
they are dark, ruined.
CLOSER - BEVERLY HILLS MANSION
As a twisted, mechanical hand sewn awkwardly to the flesh of the
wrist pulls aside a window curtain. The face behind the window is
in shadows, but we can just make out its pale, discolored
features. The other hand brings up a walkie-talkie...
SENTRY:
(into walkie)
Specimen moving west on Sunset.
EXT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - SUNSET AND BEVERLY DRIVE - NIGHT
Plissken moves into the intersection of Sunset and Beverly Drive.
The ruins of the old Beverly Hills Hotel are ahead and to his
right. He stops, stares down Sunset...
HIS POV - A FIGURE
Emerges from the shadows. This is the gatekeeper. Strange,
mismatched body parts. A black-skinned arm attached to a pale
white body. His face is unnaturally smooth - too many face lifts.
He carries a torch.
GATEKEEPER:
Halt!
(beat)
Where are you going?
(no reply)
Are you here for the auction?
BEHIND PLISSKEN:
Figures have suddenly moved out into the street, all with
mismatched body parts - heads too large for their torsos, female
body parts mixed with male heads, all sewn together with large,
uneven stitches. Plissken is surrounded.
GATEKEEPER:
Welcome to Beverly Hills.
Plissken raises his gun, starts to move, when suddenly a figure
rises behind him out of the shadows...
A MULTI-COLORED FLESH HAND
Raises a lead pipe, brings it down hard...
ON PLISSKEN'S HEAD
THUNK! He goes out like a light.
As Plissken slumps unconscious to the street, the figures move for
him. Their arms lock around him, drag him away with amazing speed
- a pack of wolves on a deer.
CLOSEUP - PLISSKEN - NIGHT
Plissken bolts awake, to find himself tied to a cross. It's
lurching back and forth as though the ground is moving.
EXT. RODEO DRIVE - BEVERLY HILLS - NIGHT
Plissken is being carried down Rodeo Driveon the cross by a throng
of surgical failures. They carry torches. Dressed in tatters.
Their faces look only partially human sewn together raggedly.
Rodeo Drive is a bizarre marketplace of body parts. The once
beautiful storefronts of famous designers are now in shambles.
Human body parts are on display like filets of fish on ice.
Gucci now offers body pieces fashioned from spare car parts and
Armani displays more eclectic, high priced pieces sewn together
like sculptures in their windowfronts. A giant rift runs down the
street's center. Acrid smoke rises.
The throng stops at an intersection, and Plissken's cross is
anchored in the middle of the street. Surrounding the intersection
are patients of every size, age, sex.
Plissken looks over, sees another cross being carried up and
planted right next to his. A beautiful girl is tied to this cross.
This is TASLIMA, 20's, Iranian, the face of a Persian princess.
She's dressed in black leather, and basically has an IQ of around
50.
TASLIMA:
Hi, Snake. It's so great to meet you. My
name's Taslima. I'm a fan of yours.
PLISSKEN:
Are you crazy?
TASLIMA:
A little bit. But pretty soon I'm gonna be
dead. So are you, Snake.
Plissken looks across the street. Our of the ruins of the once
famous red door of Elizabeth Arden come an arm of women facialists
with acid-burned faces from one-too-many skin peelings wielding
knives, saws, horrible-looking carving instruments...
TASLIMA:
I can't believe I got caught.
(sighs)
I run with Midnight Jihad. Iranian gang.
Only they kicked me out, cause I screw up
sometimes. I forget stuff.
Plissken struggles with his bonds.
Translation
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Escape from L.A." Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Aug. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/escape_from_l.a._639>.
Discuss this script with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In