The Last Samurai Page #2

BACK TO THE CONVENTION HALL:

ALGREN:

And the 23rd rode on to glory.

Applause.

At the back of the hall three elegantly dressed JAPANESE MEN

watch Algren's performance. They wear Western frock coats

and top hats

ALGREN:

Now let me tell you, gentlemen, if

there's one thing on earth I could

have had with me on that glorious

day, it would have been this beauty...

Algren holds up a Winchester repeating rifle.

At the back of the audience we note someone else watching

Algren.

SERGEANT ZEBULON GANT, whom we last saw on Sutter's Hill.

ALGREN:

The Winchester Model '73 lever-action

rifle. 15 shot capacity, one round-

per-second, accurate at 400 yards.

You'll note the patented loading

port just beneath the cartridge

chamber and the smooth cocking action.

...Lets' just see here --

He peers into the ejection port as he c*cks the weapon and

sights out over the crowd.

KA-BOOM!!! The report echoes among the screams of the ladies.

Dust and glass fall from a rear chandelier.

ALGREN:

Smooth trigger action, too.

Audience-members murmur nervously.

ALGREN:

This is, gentlemen, The Gun That Is

Winning The West... Step on up and

take a look. Mr. McCabe is here to

answer any question and take orders.

I thank you.

Later...

A Winchester representative is handing Algren an envelope.

WINCHESTER REP:

What the hell was that?

ALGREN:

Got their attention, didn't I?

WINCHESTER REP:

Boston in three weeks. And sober

this time.

He goes. Algren immediately starts counting the cash.

INT. SEEDY HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Algren sits alone on the bed. He takes out a leather-bound

journal and begins to write.

ALGREN (V.O.)

June 17th, 1876. The dead are with

me tonight. They return each time I

am obliged to tell their story.

INT. SQUALID BAR - NIGHT

Algren sips absinthe. He stares at the milky, green liquid

before him.

ALGREN (V.O.)

I can almost see them in the shadows,

their bodies whole and beautiful

once more. Sometimes it's as if they

call to me in a sweet invitation --

EXT. GAS-LIT STREET - NIGHT

Algren walks in the fog. Sputtering gas lamps give an

unearthly glow.

ALGREN (V.O.)

"We are dead," they whisper, "and we

are happy."

INT. SEEDY HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Algren is back in the hotel room. From his small suitcase,

he takes the Medal of Honor, looks at it for a long moment.

ALGREN (V.O.)

"Do not be afraid," they whisper.

"You have been dead, too."

A SUDDEN FLASH:

We are back on Sutter's Hill. Algren's slaughtered cavalry

litter the bloody ground, dead to the last man. A rebel army

surgeon gives a cursory look at each body before it is loaded

onto a wagon.

Algren's turn is no different than the others. He is declared

dead and hoisted unceremoniously onto the pile of corpses.

BACK IN THE HOTEL ROOM:

Algren sits, staring into the middle distance.

ALGREN (V.O.)

Is this why they gave their lives?

So that I might disgrace their memory?

He reaches into the suitcase and takes out a Colt revolver.

Stares at it, cracks the cylinder to make sure it's loaded.

His finger wraps around the trigger, the barrel makes its

way toward his head.

And then, unaccountably, he is laughing.

ALGREN (V.O.)

And why, after taking so many lives,

do I find myself incapable of taking

just one more?

A KNOCK on the door. Algren shuts his eyes, then calls out.

ALGREN:

Go away.

GANT (V .O.)

Not exactly the greeting I imagined.

Algren looks up. He knows that voice. He carefully puts the

revolver back into the suitcase and shuts it before opening

the door.

GANT:

Thought you'd seen the last of me, I

expect.

Algren is filled with emotion, which he tries to hide.

ALGREN:

Zeb...

They embrace.

ALGREN:

Sit. Please.

Gant moves to the proffered chair with a pronounced limp.

GANT:

...Saw your little melodrama today.

Very inspiring...

ALGREN:

Given up soldiering to become a

critic?

Gant smiles and shakes his head.

GANT:

Got a job for you, unless you're

running for office...

ALGREN:

I have I job.

GANT:

I mean a real job. Back in uniform.

ALGREN:

I' m retired.

GANT:

I don't mean a U.S. uniform.

Algren looks at him. Curious despite himself.

INT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT

Gant leads Algren into a lush San Francisco restaurant.

Flickering gaslight and trays of lobster. COLONEL BENJAMIN

BAGLEY (whom we saw in flashback) sits with the three Japanese

men. Bagley's hair has greyed. He has his eye on a political

future.

BAGLEY:

Nathan, good to see you.

ALGREN:

(stunned)

Colonel Bagley...

BAGLEY:

Sit down. This is Mr. Omura, from

Japan, and his two associates who,

so far as I can tell, don't have

names...

OMURA 40, is a handsome and intelligent man. He watches Algren

closely as Algren pours a glass or whiskey from a decanter.

BAGLEY:

They're looking to hire real American

soldiers to create the first Japanese

Imperial Army.

Algren looks at him.

BAGLEY:

Japan's got it in mind to become a

civilized country and they're willing

to spend what it takes to hire white

experts to do the job right.

Algren takes a slow lip of whiskey.

BAGLEY:

Sergeant Gant has already agreed to

serve. You would be my second-in-

command.

ALGREN:

With approval from Washington, of

course.

BAGLEY:

Both governments prefer to consider

our mission unofficial. We'd be there

as non-combatants only, advisors to

the Japanese officers. Help them

with training, ordinance and the

like.

GANT:

You ought to think about it, Captain.

Unless you intend to take up a career

in the theater.

ALGREN:

I have an agreement with the

Winchester Corporation -- I'm sure

these people have some concept of

what an agreement is.

Omura suddenly speaks. His English is flawless.

OMURA:

You are paid seven dollars for each

performance. You do, on average,

fourteen performances a year. We

will pay you 400 dollars.

ALGREN:

A year?

OMURA:

A month.

Algren looks at him. The figure, in 1876, is staggering.

EXT. SHIP - OCEAN - DAY

A steamship chums its way across the great Pacific. Algren

leans on the ship's rail and looks out into an endless

procession of waves.

ALGREN (V.O.)

June 23, 1876. It is impossible,

standing here, not to appreciate

one's, own insignificance.

A dolphin crests the surface, arcing into the air.

ALGREN (V.O.)

Here there is neither past, nor

future. Only an oblivion of water.

In his tiny cabin, Algren finishes writing in his journal

and takes out a daguerreotype of a HAUNTINGLY BEAUTIFUL BLOND

WOMAN.

ALGREN (V.O.)

And yet I ask myself, will the dead

follow me across the ocean to this

strange new land?

He stares at the woman in the picture.

INT. SHIP - CABIN - DAY

In the main cabin, Algren sits with Gant and Omura. Algren

is drinking.

OMURA:

...After the Shogun gave up power,

the daimyos -- you would call them

warlords -- knew that Japan needed a

centralized government. So they asked

the hereditary Emperor, His Highness

the Enlightened Meiji, to lead the

country.

ALGREN:

And these warlords just... gave up

hundreds of years of power?

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