The Crow: City of Angels

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FADE IN:

EXT. LIMBO - DAY/NIGHT

A heavy mist hangs before us - endless and impenetrable. And

out of that primordial fog a CROW materializes, flying toward

the camera in slow motion.

SARAH (O.S.)

I believe there's a place where the restless souls wander. Burdened

by the weight of their own sadness, they cannot enter Heaven...

Presently a second shape materializes - a FIGURE ON HORSEBACK.

A warrior whose baleful eyes shine behind the familiar irony

mask war paint.

SARAH (O.S.)

And so they wait, trapped between our world and the next, endlessly

searching for a way to rid themselves of their pain - in the

hopes that somehow, some day...

The figure on horseback sweeps past us, disappearing once again

into the mists of time.

SARAH (V.O.)

... they will be reunited with the ones they love.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. DOCS, COMMERCIAL WATERFRONT - NIGHT

Present day. The Crow settles on a shipping container, tilts

its head, watching...

SUPER TITLE:

"CITY OF ANGELS - OCTOBER 29TH - LA NOCHE DE SAN LUCAS"

CLOSE ON A PAIR OF HANDS tearing open a tiny glassine envelope

filled with powder - our drug du jour - Trinity. The face of

the envelope has been stamped with an image - a cartoon imp with

a sh*t-eating gring giving us the thumbs-up sign.

A MAN lowers his face to the envelope, snorts up the powder.

The man discards the glassine envelope...

FOLLOWING THE ENVELOPE

as it flutters to the ground, landing "imp-side" up. Let the

rush begin.

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

Garbage-poisoned waters wreathed in fog. Although once part of

a thriving shipping industry, decades of decline have seen these

docks become a hellish dumping ground. Case in point:

A FATHER AND HIS YOUNG SON

are kneeling next to one another at the end of a pier, their

arms linked together, then tied behind their backs. DANNY CORVEN

(8) is quietly sobbing. ASHE (late 20s), tries to calm the frightened

boy.

DANNY:

I'm sorry, Dad...I'm sorry... I didn't mean to look...

ASHE:

It's okay, Danny. It's okay...

NEMO (O.S.)

Lights...

A bright light comes on. Ashe and Danny turn their heads to avoid

the glare.

NEMO (O.S.)

...camera...

CLOSE ON:

A camcorder lens as it auto-focuses, bringing Danny's distorted

face into view via the lens' reflection.

NEMO (O.S.)

...action.

CAMERA FINDS Ashe and Danny's executioners, CURVE, KALI, SPIDER

MONKEY, and NEMO.

NEMO, a post-modern sleaze-hound, circles Danny and Ashe with

a camcorder. He Pats Ashe's face.

NEMO:

Make-up.

SPIDER MONKEY, lean and gangly, crouches next to Ashe, holding

a marigold in his hand.

SPIDER MONKEY:

Flowers for the dead, Senor?

CAMERA POV (CLOSE ON ASHE'S EYE)

Ashe stares directly into the camera.

SPIDER MONKEY:

No? Suite yourself, then.

Spider Monkey tucks the flower behind his ear. Danny is praying

now, MUMBLING a Catholic School litany.

SPIDER MONKEY:

You're wasting your breath, angelito. Nobody up there's listening.

WHOOSH!

We cut to an extreme high-angle shot - God's omniscient POV,

perhaps.

CURVE:

leans up against his motorcycle a few yards away - big, burly,

shaved head, a ciggie hanging from his lips. He's got a custom

paint-job on his pearl drop gas tank - a buxom blonde doing the

"wild thing" with the Grim Reaper. Curve's also the one who just

dusted himself

CURVE:

(hyped on drugs)

Let's get this over with. Judah's waiting.

Kali, a cold-eyed heavy-metal femme with a killer's casual stoicism,

is methodically loading bullets into her revolver. She's taking

her own sweet time, in defiance of Curve. There's a tension between

them. Finally, she flicks her wrist, snaps the revolver shut.

Kali walks up to them...

DANNY:

I'm scared, Dad.

ASHE:

I know...

Ashe turns to his executioners, pleading with them...

ASHE:

Listen to me, please. He's just a kid. Let him go. He can't hurt

you. He doesn't even know who you are...

...and puts a bullet through Danny's chest. Ashe SCREAMS.

ASHE:

NO!!!

Danny's body slumps forward, dragging Ashe down next to him.

Ashe stares into his son's lifeless eyes.

Curve saunters over, stares down at Ashe, flicks his cigarette

butt off into the water.

CURVE:

Nothing personal, sport. Guess you were just in the wrong place

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