Shawshank Redemption Page #2

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STH TITLE UP

6INT -- COURTROOM -- DAY (1946) 6

The D.A. holds the jury spellbound with his closing summation:

D.A.

Ladies and gentlemen, you've heard

all the evidence, you know all the

facts. We have the accused at the

scene of the crime. We have foot

prints. Tire tracks. Bullets

scattered on the ground which bear

his fingerprints. A broken bourbon

bottle, likewise with fingerprints.

Most of all, we have a beautiful

young woman and her lover lying

dead in each other's arms. They had

sinned. But was their crime so

great as to merit a death sentence?

He gestures to Andy sitting quietly with his ATTORNEY.

D.A.

I suspect Mr. Dufresne's answer to

that would be yes. I further

suspect he carried out that

sentence on the night of September

21st, this year of our Lord, 1946,

by pumping four bullets into his

wife and another four into Glenn

Quentin. And while you think about

that, think about this...

He picks up a revolver, spins the cylinder before their eyes

like a carnival barker spinning a wheel of fortune.

D.A.

A revolver holds six bullets, not

eight. I submit to you this was not

a hot-blooded crime of passion!

That could at least be understood,

if not condoned. No, this was

revenge of a much more brutal and

cold-blooded nature. Consider! Four

bullets per victim! Not six shots

fired, but eight! That means he

fired the gun empty...and then

stopped to reload so he could shoot

each of them again! An extra bullet

per lover...right in the head.

(a few JURORS shiver)

I'm done talking. You people are

all decent, God-fearing Christian

folk. You know what to do.

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7INT -- JURY ROOM -- DAY (1946) 7

CAMERA TRACKS down a long table, moving from one JUROR to the

next. These decent, God-fearing Christians are chowing down on

a nice fried chicken dinner provided them by the county,

smacking greasy lips and gnawing cobbettes of corn.

VOICE (O.S.)

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty...

We find the FOREMAN at the head of the table, sorting votes.

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7TH TITLE UP

8INT -- COURTROOM -- DAY (1946) 8

Andy stands before the dias. THE JUDGE peers down, framed by a

carved frieze of blind Lady Justice on the wall.

JUDGE:

You strike me as a particularly icy

and remorseless man, Mr. Dufresne.

It chills my blood just to look at

you. By the power vested in me by

the State of Maine, I hereby order

you to serve two life sentences,

back to back, one for each of your

victims. So be it.

He raps his gavel as we

CRASH TO BLACK:
LAST TITLE UP.

9 AN IRON-BARRED DOOR 9

slides open with an enormous CLANG. A stark room waits beyond.

CAMERA PUSHES through. SEVEN HUMORLESS MEN sit side by side at

a long table. An empty chair faces them. We are now in:

INT -- SHAWSHANK HEARINGS ROOM -- DAY (1947)

RED enters, removes his cap and waits by the chair.

MAN #1

Sit.

Red sits, tries not to slouch. The chair is uncomfortable.

MAN #2

We see by your file you've served

twenty years of a life sentence.

MAN #3

You feel you've been rehabilitated?

RED:

Yes, sir. Absolutely. I've learned

my lesson. I can honestly say I'm a

changed man. I'm no longer a danger

to society. That's the God's honest

truth. No doubt about it.

The men just stare at him. One stifles a yawn.

CLOSEUP -- PAROLE FORM

A big rubber stamp slams down: "REJECTED" in red ink.

10EXT -- EXERCISE YARD -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- DUSK (1947) 10

High stone walls topped with snaky concertina wire, set off at

intervals by looming guard towers. Over a hundred CONS are

in the yard. Playing catch, shooting craps, jawing at each

other, making deals. Exercise period.

RED emerges into fading daylight, slouches low-key through the

activity, worn cap on his head, exchanging hellos and doing

minor business. He's an important man here.

RED (V.O.)

There's a con like me in every prison

in America, I guess. I'm the guy who

can get it for you. Cigarettes, a

bag of reefer if you're partial, a

bottle of brandy to celebrate your

kid's high school graduation. Damn

near anything, within reason.

He slips somebody a pack of smokes, smooth sleight-of-hand.

RED (V.O.)

Yes sir, I'm a regular Sears &

Roebuck.

TWO SHORT SIREN BLASTS issue from the main tower, drawing

everybody's attention to the loading dock. The outer gate

swings open...revealing a gray prison bus outside.

RED (V.O.)

So when Andy Dufresne came to me in

1949 and asked me to smuggle Rita

Hayworth into the prison for him, I

told him no problem. And it wasn't.

CON:

Fresh fish! Fresh fish today!

Red is joined by HEYWOOD, SKEET, FLOYD, JIGGER, ERNIE, SNOOZE.

Most cons crowd to the fence to gawk and jeer, but Red and his

group mount the bleachers and settle in comfortably.

11INT -- PRISON BUS -- DUSK (1947) 11

Andy sits in back, wearing steel collar and chains.

RED (V.O.)

Andy came to Shawshank Prison in

early 1947 for murdering his wife

and the fella she was bangin'.

The bus lurches forward, RUMBLES through the gates. Andy gazes

around, swallowed by prison walls.

RED (V.O.)

On the outside, he'd been vice-

president of a large Portland bank.

Good work for a man as young as he

was, when you consider how

conservative banks were back then.

TOWER GUARD:

All clear!

GUARDS approach the bus with carbines. The door jerks open.

The new fish disembark, chained together single-file, blinking

sourly at their surroundings. Andy stumbles against the MAN in

front of him, almost drags him down.

BYRON HADLEY, captain of the guard, slams his baton into

Andy's back. Andy goes to his knees, gasping in pain. JEERS

and SHOUTS from the spectators.

HADLEY:

On your feet before I f*** you up

so bad you never walk again.

13 ON THE BLEACHERS 13

RED:

There they are, boys. The Human

Charm Bracelet.

HEYWOOD:

Never seen such a sorry-lookin'

heap of maggot sh*t in my life.

JIGGER:

Comin' from you, Heywood, you being

so pretty and all...

FLOYD:

Takin' bets today, Red?

RED:

(pulls notepad and pencil)

Bear Catholic? Pope sh*t in the woods?

Smokes or coin, bettor's choice.

FLOYD:

Smokes. Put me down for two.

RED:

High roller. Who's your horse?

FLOYD:

That gangly sack of sh*t, third

from the front. He'll be the first.

HEYWOOD:

Bullshit. I'll take that action.

ERNIE:

Me too.

Other hands go up. Red jots the names.

HEYWOOD:

You're out some smokes, son. Take

my word.

FLOYD:

You're so smart, you call it.

HEYWOOD:

I say that chubby fat-ass...let's

see...fifth from the front. Put me

down for a quarter deck.

RED:

That's five cigarettes on Fat-Ass.

Any takers?

More hands go up. Andy and the others are paraded along,

forced by their chains to take tiny baby steps, flinching

under the barrage of jeers and shouts. The old-timers are

shaking the fence, trying to make the newcomers sh*t their

pants. Some of the new fish shout back, but mostly they look

terrified. Especially Andy.

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