Shawshank Redemption Page #6

RED:

Dufresne.

Brooks nods, never missing a beat. He rolls his cart to

Andy's cell, mutters through the bars:

BROOKS:

Middle shelf, wrapped in a towel.

Andy's hand snakes through the bars and makes the object

disappear. The hand comes back and deposits a small slip of

folded paper along with more cigarettes. Brooks turns his cart

around and goes back. He pauses, sorting his books long enough

for Red to snag the slip of paper. Brooks continues on,

scooping the cigarettes off the cart and into his pocket.

44INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 44

Red unfolds the slip of paper. Penciled neatly on it is a

single word:
"Thanks."

45INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY -- DAY (1947) 45

We are assaulted by the deafening noise of the laundry line.

Andy is doing his job, getting good at it.

BOB:

DUFRESNE! WE'RE LOW ON HEXLITE!

HEAD ON BACK AND FETCH US UP SOME!

Andy nods. He leaves the line, weaving his way through the

laundry room and into --

46INT -- BACK ROOMS/STOCK AREA -- DAY (1947) 46

-- a dark, tangled maze of rooms and corridors, boilers and

furnaces, sump pumps, old washing machines, pallets of

cleaning supplies and detergents, you name it. Andy hefts a

cardboard drum of Hexlite off the stack, turns around --

-- and finds Bogs Diamond in the aisle. blocking his way.

Rooster looms from the shadows to his right, Pete Verness

on the left. A frozen beat. Andy slams the Hexlite to the

floor, rips off the top, and scoops out a double handful.

ANDY:

You get this in your eyes, it

blinds you.

BOGS:

Honey, hush.

Andy backs up, holding them at bay, trying to maneuver through

the maze. The Sisters keep coming, tense and guarded, eyes

riveted and gauging his every move, trying to outflank him.

Andy trips on some old gaint sugglies. That's all it takes.

They're on him in an instant, kicking and stomping.

Andy gets yanked to his feet. Bogs applies a chokehold from

behind. They propel him across the room and slam him against

an old four-pocket machine, bending him over it. Rooster jams

a rag into Andy's mouth and secures it with a steel pipe, like

a horse bit. Andy kicks and struggles, but Rooster and Pete

have his arms firmly pinned. Bogs whispers in Andy's ear:

BOGS:

That's it, fight. Better that way.

Andy starts screaming, muffled by the rag. CAMERA PULLS BACK,

SLOWLY WIDENING. The big Washex blocks our view. All we see

is Andy's screaming face and the men holding him down...

...and CAMERA DRIFTS FROM THE ROOM, leaving the dark place

and the dingy act behind...MOVING up empty corridors, past

concrete walls and steel pipes...

RED (V.O.)

I wish I could tell you that Andy

fought the good fight, and the

Sisters let him be. I wish I could

tell you that, but prison is no

fairy-tale world.

WE EMERGE into the prison laundry past a guard, WIDENING for

a final view of the line. The giant steel "mangler" is

slapping down in brutal rhythm. The sound is deafening.

RED (V.O.)

He never said who did it...but we

all knew.

PRISON MONTAGE:
(1947 through 1949)

47 ANDY PLODS THROUGH HIS DAYS. WORKING. EATING. CHIPPING AND 47

shaping his rocks after lights-out...

RED (V.O.)

Things went on like that for a

while. Prison life consists of

routine, and then more routine.

48 ANDY WALKS THE YARD, FACE SWOLLEN AND BRUISED. 48

RED (V.O.)

Every so often, Andy would show up

with fresh bruises.

49 ANDY EATS BREAKFAST. A FEW TABLES OVER, BOGS BLOWS HIM A KISS. 49

RED (V.O.)

The Sisters kept at him. Sometimes

he was able to fight them off...

sometimes not.

50 ANDY BACKS INTO A CORNER IN SOME DINGY PART OF THE PRISON,

wildly swinging a rake at his tormentors.

RED (V.O.)

He always fought, that's what I

remember. He fought because he knew

if he didn't fight, it would make

it that much easier not to fight

the next time.

The rake connects, snapping off over somebody's skull. They

beat the hell out of him.

RED (V.O.)

Half the time it landed him in the

infirmary...

51INT -- SOLITARY CONFINEMENT ("THE HOLE") -- NIGHT (1949) 51

A stone closet. No bed, sink, or lights. Just a toilet with no

seat. Andy sits on bare concrete, bruised face lit by a faint

ray of light falling through the tiny slit in the steel door.

RED (V.O.)

...the other half, it landed him in

solitary. Warden Norton's "grain &

drain" vacation. Bread, water, and

all the privacy you could want.

52INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY -- DAY (1949) 52

Andy is working the line.

RED (V.O.)

And that's how it went for Andy. That

was his routine. I do believe those

first two years were the worst for

him. And I also believe if things

had gone on that way, this place

would have got the best of him.

But then, in the spring of 1949,

the powers-that-be decided that...

53EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DAY (1949) 53

Warden Norton addresses the assembled cons via bullhorn:

NORTON:

...the roof of the license-plate

factory needs resurfacing. I need a

dozen volunteers for a week's work.

We're gonna be taking names in this

steel bucket here...

Red glances around at his friends. Andy also catches his eye.

RED (V.O.)

It was outdoor detail, and May is

one damn fine month to be workin'

outdoors.

54EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DAY (1949) 54

Cons shuffle past, dropping slips of paper into a bucket.

RED (V.O.)

More than a hundred men volunteered

for the job.

Red saunters to a guard named TIM YOUNGBLOOD, mutters

discreetly in his ear.

55EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DAY (1949) 55

Youngblood is pulling names and reading them off. Red

exchanges grins with Andy and the others.

RED (V.O.)

Wouldn't you know it? Me and some

fellas I know were among the names

called.

56INT -- PRISON CORRIDOR -- NIGHT (1949) 56

Red slips Youngblood six packs of cigarettes.

RED (V.O.)

Only cost us a pack of smokes per

man. I made my usual twenty

percent, of course.

57EXT -- LICENSE PLATE FACTORY -- DAY (1949) 57

A tar-cooker bubbles and smokes. TWO CONS dip up a bucket of

tar and tie a rope to the handle. The rope goes taught. CAMERA

FOLLOWS the bucket of tar up the side of the building to --

58 THE ROOF 58

-- where it is relayed to the work detail. the men are dipping

big Padd brushes and spreading the tar. ANGLZ OVER to Byron

Hadley bitching sourly to his fellow guards:

HADLEY:

...so this shithead lawyer calls

long distance from Texas, and he

says, Byron Hadley? I say, yeah. He

says, sorry to inform you, but your

brother just died.

YOUNGBLOOD:

Damn, Byron. Sorry to hear that.

HADLEY:

I ain't. He was an a**hole. Run off

years ago, family ain't heard of him

since. Figured him for dead anyway.

So this lawyer prick says, your

brother died a rich man. Oil wells

and sh*t, close to a million bucks.

Jesus, it's frigging incredible how

lucky some a**holes can get.

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