The Avengers Page #2

FROM Valentine's anguished face TO Emma's face, as

VALENTINE:

Emma ...

27 FROM HER VAULT

Emma undoes the straps, clambers out of her pod

28 ANGLE (IN DREAMLIKE SLOW MOTION)

Emma clambers onto her husband's pod -- in a sequence eternally replayed for her as a

nightmare --

29 BACK TO SCENE

VALENTINE:

Get out! Leave him -- ! Emma!

30 RAPID INTERCUTS

The purple smoke enveloping Peter'spod, soft caresses -- Peter struggling within,

looking at Emma --

EMMA:

Peter!

Her leatherclad limbs straddled over his glass coffin. Her HEARTBEAT sounds ... She

grabs, claws on glass --

Her fist draws back, blam! blam! blam! three deadly blows, Emma SMASHES the pod

cover, it --

Cracks -- splinters -- not breaking -- obscuring his face inside like a spider's web, as

behind her

VALENTINE:

Don't wait for him -- he's not --

Breathless, blood smeared on glass, Emma's gashed fist bleeds thru torn leather glove --

twisted mass of flesh and glass -- GROWLING sound growing as:

31 ABOVE GROUND

The voluminous purple cloud being sucked by the antenna...!

32 CLOSEUP ON EMMA'S DIAMOND RING

gleaming thru a tear of blood as she pounds the glass --

33 BACK TO SCENE

PETER:

(faint)

Emma ... Emma ...

As a GROWLING sound grows till

BOOM! An EXPLOSION rocks the vault -- flames burst out -- sound and vision

separate -- Emma hears explosion as a slow moving tear thru her psyche. A trauma.

34 ANGLE (IN EXTREME SLOW MOTION)

The blast flings Emma back thru space, flying unconscious as if in a dream, floating

backwards in --

A milky way op-art swirl of glass and steel fragments, now -- out of control,

weightless, powerless, as --

The background of sealed doors, white corridors all vanish. A spinning, black void

opens up behind her, as her eyes shut, head falls back --

An orgasmic, dream of near-death, as a CRASH OF MUSIC BEGINS a hip new

version of the "AVENGERS" THEME TUNE --

CREDITS SEQUENCE.

35 SERIES OF SHOTS

In stark silhouette The swishing of a bowler hat spinning thru space

An umbrella tossed in the air, flicked like a deadly weapon --

A rich velvety feel, key colors black/white/red. Dandyish and erotic followed by blasts

of violence, dreamy op-art puzzles and psychedelic patterns over --

A sensuous BLACK, background -- slowly revealed to be a woman's leather-clad

body --

In silhouette -- A bowler hatted man, Steed, a catsuited woman Emma. Flashes of:

hair -- eye -- a red rose -- in bloom -- petals folding and unfolding, then tightly shut.

A thorned stem, sharp to the touch --

FROM black and white INTO color -- leather Background metamorphosing into black

and white of a chessboard as ...

A medieval knight moves around its queen in a formal dance --

A fetishistic attention to detail: leather catsuit, swish of legs, boots ... hair tossed

back - - red nails over black ... creamy white skin ... zips ...

A silhouetted man in bowler hat in Savile Row suit -- old Etonian knotted tie --

umbrella stabs like a sword --

Umbrella with knotted stems of a rose furling round -- then a tear, gash -- rose cut and

tossed into --

His lapel. Until, at the end: together in silhouette.

Bowler hat thrown, skimming, swishing thru air, until --

Now only a single HEARTBEAT ... BA-BOOM ... BA-BOOM ...

Then --

PISTOL SHOTS OVER as:

36 INT. EMMA'S BEDROOM - PRE-DAWN

A gasp as Emma wakes abruptly from her nightmare, years later, startled by the shots,

naked beneath satin sheets. Her HEARTBEAT FADES as she looks around her Klaus

Oldenberg room, vinyl comforter, satin sheets. A toss of her hair.

Looks more mature. Sexual, haunted. Mrs. Emma Peel -- widow.

Same every night. Next to the clock, a framed photo of her dead husband, Peter Peel.

From outside ANOTHER SHOT ...

Emma flings on a satin robe, goes to the window and sees --

37 HER POV

a CAR zooooming past, its bowler-hatted driver racing thru early morning streets. The

damn thing BACKFIRES again ...

38 BACK TO SCENE

Emma frowns, annoyed.

39 EXT. STREETS - DAWN

Zoom! The sleek, sporty black Jaguar SS100 burns down deserted streets. Inside is a

bowler-hatted man --

JOHN STEED, late 30's. Handsome English gent, roguish looks, dandy's clothes. A

Beau Brummel figure in a Savile Row suit, velvet collar, embroidered waistcoat.

A debonair Etonian, Steed oozes charm, wit and - when he chooses to -- hard-edged,

steely menace. He drives through --

40 LONDON (1999)

This is 'Avengersland': a parallel world painted by Rene Magritte, forever England.

Bright pinks, greens and reds, an imperial city in final decadent bloom. White stucco

buildings. Regency style in candy colors. A surreally 90's city like a hipper, edgier

version of the 60's preserved in aspic, where --

Over the RADIO, a plummy voice:

ANNOUNCER (V.O.)

(filtered)

... The War Office today approved military

expenditure for the nation's new defense alert

system. A spokesman said he would raise the

matter at the forthcoming World Council of

Ministers, but that a state of vigilance was

still necessary in the uncertain climate.

As Steed turns into a mews, we realize that in this kinky, pop world, ordinary life does

not intrude. No traffic. No extras. Nothing to spoil the view.

As the radio continues with a weather forecast, Steed --

41 EXT. STEED'S GARAGE - DAWN

Steed's car enters his garage -- Door closes as --

42 INT. STEED'S FLAT - DAWN

but the curtains are still drawn so the place is dark.

A large bachelor's den. Dark wood, leather armchairs ...

Steed enters his library from a concealed door --

Titles on wine and birdwatching. He clicks the door, goes to his drinks cabinet. Pours

a brandy. Hears a noise ...

Instantly on guard. In his glass, sees a shadowy reflection move. Steed peers 'round a

corner. Sees a silhouetted figure stand over his desk -- a burglar?

Steed sneaks up behind -- raises his umbrella, and --

Crack! Brings the umbrella down -- on the suspect's head. Who manages to dodge,

swivel 'round, and --

Bam! Delivers an expert blow to Steed's stomach. A rapid exchange of blows. Steed

recoils, about to jab the umbrella, when --

His assailant about to deliver a kick to his crotch -- Steed covers the area -- bam! a

spiked heel hits his bowler -- as the curtains are drawn back, light floods in -- they

freeze.

Steed knows his opponent: a lethal blonde in red leather.

STEED:

Brenda -- ?

43 FROM ABOVE HIM

a voice --

MOTHER (O.S.)

Steed -- ?!

44 BACK TO SCENE

Steed swivels 'round to face -- upside down -- a man hanging like a bat from the ceiling

inches before him --

Pommaded hair, fat, dandyish: MOTHER, head of secret services; hands of extendable

metal hooks. And BRENDA, his beautiful leather-clad bodyguard. Who smiles

seductively.

STEED:

Mother. I thought you were burglars.

MOTHER:

Brenda and I thought we'd drop in.

Mother suits action to the word, drops into his wheelchair.

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