Knives Out

KNIVES OUT:

A Murder Mystery by

Rian Johnson

EXT. THROMBEY ESTATE MANOR HOUSE - DAWN

The grounds of a New England manor. Pre-dawn misty.

INT. MANOR - PANTRY / LIVING ROOM / FOYER / HALLWAY - DAWN

INSIDE THE MANOR

Unlit and still. Gothic with a theme of antique games,

arcane puzzles and decorative weapons.

First floor:
A drawing room, living room, kitchen. The

detritus of a party. Stray champagne flutes.

INT. THROMBEY ESTATE - 2ND FLOOR - DAWN

Follow one housekeeper named FRAN carrying a tray of coffee

up a flight of stairs.

Second floor:
a hallway, doors all closed. The house has

not woken up, and Fran steps lightly. Up a much narrower

creaky flight of steep stairs.

INT. THROMBEY ESTATE - 3RD FLOOR MASTER BEDROOM - DAWN

Third floor:
the master bedroom suite.

FRAN:

Morning Mr Thrombey

But the bed is empty, unslept in. A robe thrown across it.

Fran heads out onto the landing and UP an EVEN NARROWER half

flight of stairs, which leads to a single door.

INT. HARLAN THROMBEY'S STUDY - DAWN

A cramped attic study, every shelf crammed with curios.

The door swings open and Fran sees:

HARLAN THROMBEY himself. 85 years old. Slung across a

white leather day bed.

Throat slit. Drenched in blood. Very much dead.

CUT TO:
Title card, on black.

THEN TO:

INT. MARTA'S BEDROOM - MORNING

MARTA CABRERA wakes with a cry.

Plain, modern, cramped. Marta, in her late twenties, takes

a moment to catch her breath. Opens a window.

EXT. SOUTH BOSTON HOUSING PROJECT - MORNING

A tiny window in a cheap apartment building opens, Marta's

face appears breathing deep.

SUPER:
"ONE WEEK LATER"

INT. CABRERA KITCHEN - MORNING

Marta sits in front of a laptop. Her MOM is at the table

with her, her sister ALICE watches CSI on an iPad on the

counter top. Murder related dialog from the show.

Marta scroll through a jobs site, tired, eyes dead. Her mom

watches, concerned.

MOM:

Alice, turn that off now.

ALICE:

Why it's almost over, what -

they're finding out who did

it and the wifi sucks in my

room so it doesn't play it's

like two minutes left what

there isn't even anything

bad on it, it's just normal

tv and they're just talking

ok ok goddddd whatever ok

whatever.

MOM:

Now please just turn it off.

Turn it off. Now.

Alice. Off.

They're talking about murder

on it, your sister just had

a friend she loves slit his

throat open she doesn't need

to be hearing that right now

let's be sensitive!

Mom standing yelling, Alice slams the iPad cover closed.

Marta puts her head in her hand. Looks at her mom, who

looks back at her with protective sympathy. Marta starts

laughing at the absurdity of it, but the laugh turns into

crying.

MARTA:

Thanks mom. I love you. God, none

of this seems real. Alice you can

keep watching your show it's alright.

2.

ALICE:

No, I guessed who did it anyway. I'm

sorry Marta.

Alice hugs her sister. Marta's phone rings. WALT THROMBEY.

MARTA:

It's Harlan's son. Maybe it's about

the funeral.

answers

(

)

Hi, Walt.

listens

(

)

Uh huh.

Her face shifts in confusion.

MARTA (cont'd)

What?

EXT. PRIVATE ROAD - LATE MORNING

A long narrow private road leading to the Thrombey estate.

Marta's shitty SUBCOMPACT car buzzes by, towards the house.

EXT. THROMBEY ESTATE FRONT DRIVE

Several cars, including a police cruiser with a few

uniformed officers by it. Marta pulls up. An officer eyes

her, approaches.

COP:

Excuse me ma'am. Are you with the

help?

MEG, Thrombey's college aged granddaughter, trots out.

MEG:

Hey! Her name is Marta, she was

granddad's nurse, she's with us.

"The help?" What the hell.

MARTA:

to the cop

(

)

It's ok, sorry.

MEG:

mutters

(

)

It's not ok. Cops, man.

They hug, and are both instantly crying. They laugh.

MEG (cont'd)

Oh god. Look at us.

3.

MARTA:

How are you? This week, how have you

MEG:

Yeah. It's been rough, the whole

week just awful. And now this,

the cop cars

(

)

we thought we were done.

MARTA:

Walt called me, but yeah I thought

the cops got our statements already,

what are we

MEG:

I dunno, they've got more dumbass

questions, something. Dumb.

she vapes

(

)

How are you doing?

MARTA:

Not good. Alone, lots of just, this

the crying

(

)

and not knowing what to do next.

MEG:

Anything you need, you're part of

this family Marta.

MARTA:

Thanks.

beat

(

)

I wanted to ask, but I didn't want to

bother you guys, I didn't hear

anything, is the funeral, is there a

day for it, or

MEG:

It was yesterday.

Marta's face falls.

MEG (cont'd)

Marta I told them that all of you,

Fran, everyone who worked with him

should have been there, you were

closer to Granddad than anyone the

past few years, but they got on this

whole roll about it was for the

family and it was a family thing,

they took a vote and we got outvoted.

I'm so sorry.

4.

MARTA:

It's ok

MEG:

It's not ok. This idiot family.

They both start laughing.

INT. FOYER

Thrombey's eldest daughter Linda opens the door for Marta.

LINDA:

How you doing kiddo.

Linda is 60ish, well put together, sharp and steely eyed.

She dresses and speaks with just a little more sharpness

than any situation she's in requires.

MARTA:

Hi Linda. How are you?

LINDA:

Ueuh. The funeral helped. I guess.

Just seeing him. I thought you

should have been there, I'm sorry. I

was out voted.

Linda's husband Richard walks in, on the phone. Same age as

Linda, gruff and confident, will put his feet up on

anything.

RICHARD (ON PHONE)

I'm not the cop so I don't know.

Alright fine, don't come, get

arrested. Die up your own ass all I

care.

hangs up

(

)

He's not coming.

to Marta

(

)

Ransom. Little sh*t. Missed the

funeral. No, he is, he's a little

sh*t.

STATE TROOPER WAGNER, fresh faced in his 30s, pokes his head

in through a door.

TROOPER WAGNER:

Excuse me, we're ready for you now,

we'd like to see you one at a time.

5.

LINDA:

I'll start. Hopefully Joni and Walt

are on their way.

Linda exits with Wagner, leaving Richard and Marta.

RICHARD:

So. How you doing kiddo.

INT. LIBRARY

Mystery and horror memorabilia scattered on the shelves.

Linda sits opposite three men: LIEUTENANT ELLIOTT, in his

30s, in a working suit. Very good at his job. The young

Trooper Wagner stands behind him.

Sitting back behind both of them, almost blending into the

background, is a slight man in a linen suit. Legs and arms

fold sharply, like a paper crane. Silent, listening.

LIEUTENANT ELLIOTT

Good to see you again, just to

reintroduce ourselves, I'm Detective

Lieutenant Elliott, Trooper Wagner

here. We just want to run through

everything one more time. I'm going

to record this if it's alright, just

makes it easier.

squints at his phone

(

)

I think that's... going... ok.

Speaking to Linda Drysdale, nee

Thrombey, Harlan Thrombey's eldest

daughter, regarding the events the

night of his demise, November 8th.

TROOPER WAGNER:

We're sorry for your loss.

LINDA:

dry as chalk

(

)

Thank you that means a lot.

Elliott checks his notes.

LIEUTENANT ELLIOTT

So the whole family was gathered at

the house that night... for your

father's eighty fifth birthday party.

LINDA:

Yes.

6.

LIEUTENANT ELLIOTT

How was that?

LINDA:

The party? Pre my dad's death? It

was great.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT OF THE PARTY - FLASHBACK

Warmly lit, classic rock playing, food laid out. Linda and

Richard mingle happily with the rest of the family (who

we'll meet shortly.)

LIEUTENANT ELLIOTT (V.O.)

Anyone besides the family there that

night?

LINDA (V.O.)

Uh. The caterers. Fran, the

housekeeper. Marta, Harlan's nurse

caretaker person, hard worker, good

girl. Family's from Ecuador. And

Wanetta - Greatnana, Dad's mom.

At the snack table wearing a dozen coats, a woman who might

be three hundred years old. She pounds down chips and dip

like a machine.

LIEUTENANT ELLIOTT (V.O.)

wow

(

)

His mom? How old is she?

LINDA (V.O.)

Nobody knows.

LIEUTENANT ELLIOTT (V.O.)

Your son Ransom, he lives in town

right? He was at the party too?

LINDA (V.O.)

Yes but he left early.

RANSOM DRYSDALE, roguishly handsome in his early 30s,

breezes out the side door, past Greatnana.

GREATNANA:

Ransom, are you leaving?

7.

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