Frankenstein Page #14

... and sails SCREAMING into empty SPACE, twisting and

spinning as He falls, plummeting head-first into the rapids.

the dogs are left behind. the Creature gets swept along,

gasping and choking, caroming off huge boulders, fawn still

clutched protectively to his chest.

Finally the water starts to settle. He manages to lash out

and secure a handhold. He pulls himself up, clambering over

the rocks and staggering onto firm soil. He collapses to his

knees, dripping water and heaving for breath.

He lowers the fawn away from his chest, joyous at their

escape ... only to realize the small animal is limp and

lifeless in his hands. He crushed it to death trying to save

it. He lays it down, moaning, trying to understand. ANGLE

WIDENS UP into the trees as we

DISSOLVE TO:

60

WOODS - DUSK

TILT DOWN to reveal a solitary figure in a greatcoat

trudging across the sodden countryside under a dismal,

darkening sky. Cold. Hungry. Wet. Tired.

The Creature pauses, hearing FAINT MUSIC drifting on the

breeze:
the lovely flute-like sounds of a recorder. He slogs

to the crest of a ridge. There's a small house in the valley

below. A peasant dwelling. Smoke drifts from the chimney.

That's where the music comes from (a simple and plaintive

rendition of our movie's WALTZ/LOVE THEME).

The Creature proceeds down the ridge ... drawn by the music

and the promise of warmth.

HOUSE - DAY

The Creature approaches cautiously. Furtive. He eases to a

window, catches a glimpse inside, draws back. Listening. The

tune ends. We hear the pleasant murmur of VOICES. FOOTSTEPS

come clumping across the floor. The Creature reels back and

dives around the side of the house as the door unlatches and

swings open. FELIX exits, a poor man trying to scratch an

honest living from the soil. He heads in the same direction

as the Creature ...

ANOTHER ANGLE:

... and walks around the corner of the house just as the

Creature scrambles from view behind the chicken coops. The

Creature watches through the wire and wood as Felix

approaches and stops, only his legs visible. Feed is

scattered through the wire. The chi

PIGSTY - DUSK

... and finds himself in the company of PIGS. the animals

GRUNT and SQUEAL in alarm.

FELIX (0. S.)

Yes, yes, I'm coming ...

The Creature scurries further back into the shadows as

Felix's feet stop just outside. A pail is upended. Slop

pours into the trough. Felix walks away. The pigs scurry to

eat. The Creature leans forward intently. Food?

He crawls to the trough and squeezes in among the pigs. They

jostle, but he jostles right back, wanting his fair

(CONTINUED)

61

share. He laps up the slop with his fingers, dribbling it

down his chin. Not much on taste, but it's edible.

He stops, hearing the recorder MUSIC again, turning toward

the sound. He follows it, crawling back into the darkest

recesses where the sty adjoins the wall of the house. He

places his eye to a chink between the logs ...

... and sees GRANDFATHER playing the instrument near a

fireplace of glowing embers. The Creature shifts for another

view, sees the family preparing the table for dinner. Felix

and his wife MARIE are helped by their children, MAGGIE AND

THOMAS, ages 6 and 8

MARIE:

Bring Grandfather to the table.

The old man stops playing as the children scurry over. As

Maggie helps him to his feet, Thomas tosses another log on

the fire. It BLAZES UP. Fire and sparks. in the pigsty, the

Creature draws back with a fearful moan ...

... that nobody but GRANDFATHER hears, He pauses to gaze

blindly toward the wall, eyes milky with cataracts,

wondering what it might have been. Probably nothing. He lets

the children lead him toward the table. the meal is brought

from the stove and ladled out.

The Creature eases back to the chink in the wall, smelling

it from here. A string of drool spills from his mouth. It's

humble fare, not very appetizing, but it looks like a feast

compared to pig slop ...

DISSOLVE TO:

INT - VICTOR'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Victor lies sleeping. Wrestling with troubled dreams. In an

eerie echo of before: the door creaks open in a spill of

light. A shadow enters, creeps to the bed, falls across his

face. Victor's eyes fly open. He tries to erupt from bed,

choking on a scream ... and Henry wrestles him back to the

pillow to feel his clammy forehead.

HENRY:

Thank God your fever broke.

(offers him water)

Slowly, now. Just a sip.

(Victor sips, falls back)

I've been worried we might lose you. It's been

touch-and-go for a week.

VICTOR:

A... week?

(CONTINUED)

62

HENRY:

We feared cholera. Turned out to be pneumonia,

brought on by nervous exhaustion and some idiot

running around in a storm. -

VICTOR:

Is that your diagnosis?

HENRY:

Mine and Professor Krempel's.

(off his look)

We've been trading off nursing you in shifts. The

rest of the time we're out working with the

cholera victims. It's his turn for that just now.

VICTOR:

You've been going round-the-clock?

HENRY:

We catch a few hours sleep where we can. Usually

here at your bedside.

VICTOR:

(deeply moved)

Everything in moderation, Clerval.

HENRY:

Nothing in moderation, Frankenstein.

Victor takes Henry's hand. Squeezes it.

HENRY:

It's the down-and-outs I pity most. Those who

can't fend for themselves. They'll be dead by the

thousands before this is done. They don't stand a

chance out there.

VICTOR:

(thinking of his creation)

No. They don't.

HENRY:

Victor. This place looked like a charnel house.

What went on here?

Victor pauses, too emotional to respond. Softly:

VICTOR:

I want to go home.

Beat.

Henry accepts this, though he doesn't like it.

(CONTINUED)

63

HENRY:

It'll be months before you're well enough.

Meantime, your family must be frantic not hearing

from you.

Henry grabs a stack of letters from the nightstand.

HENRY:

I found these. Some of the postmarks go back nine

months.

(slaps them on the bed)

Why don't you open them? And when you've the

strength, have the decency to ease their minds

with a reply. Soon as the city ends quarantine,

I'll even mail it for you. Along with this.

(raises the locket)

It's a beautiful gift. Does her no good lying

here.

Henry leaves him alone to wrestle with his guilt. Victor is

swept with emotion and remorse. He closes his eyes. Softly:

VICTOR:

It can't survive.

INT - PIGSTY - DAY

The Creature and the pigs are sleeping in a heap. He rouses,

scattering them, crawls to the slats of the sty. Felix is

returning wearily from the fields with a large basket on his

back. The Creature moves to his chink in the wall to see

Felix enter the house and dump the basket out for Marie. A

pathetic array of potatoes and turnips.

FELIX:

Not much to look at. Even less to eat. I don't

how we're going to get through the winter with

this yield.

MARIE:

We'll sell another pig at market.

FELIX:

one less for us.

MARIE:

We'll make do. We always have.

He sinks into a chair, weighed by worry. She moves to

comfort him, cradling his head to her breast. He returns her

embrace, drawing strength. A tender, gentle moment. The

Creature watches, puzzled and empathetic, deeply moved by

her sympathy. Felix gathers himself, wipes his eyes.

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