2023年沉默的羔羊2汉尼拔_《沉默的羔羊》SilenceOfTheLambs.docx

2023年沉默的羔羊2汉尼拔_沉默的羔羊SilenceOfTheLambst h e s i l e n c e o f t h e l a m b s screenplay by ted tally based on the novel by thomas harris 2nd draft july 28, 1989 note for legal reasons, the names of three of tom harris"s characters have had to be changed. it is my hope, and certainly tom"s, that the original names can be restored in time for the making of this movie. for the purposes of this draft, however, jack crawford has become "ray campbell," frederick chilton has become "herbert prentiss," and dr. hannibal lecter is called "dr. gideon quinn." fade in: int. grubby hotel corridor - day (dimly lit) a woman"s face backs into shot, her head resting against grimy wallpaper. she is tense, sweaty, wide-eyed with concentration. this is clarice starling - mid-20"s, trim, very pretty. she wears kevlar body armor over a navy windbreaker, khaki pants. her thick hair is piled under a navy baseball cap. a revolver, clutched in her right hand, hovers by her ear. she raises a speedloader, in her left hand, locks it into her cylinder, twists and reloads. close on a guest room door, with a small, wired pack attached to its knob. suddenly, wish a sharp crack!, the knob explodes, and the door bursts open. with clarice - moving shot - as she runs around a corner, through a cloud of smoke. she shoulders aside the shattered door and rushes inside, gun at the ready in both hands. cut to: int. hotel room - day clarice"s pov - moving - as she first sees, sitting on the edge of a bed - a female hostage. black, late 20"s, gagged, hands behind her back. then, swivelling. she sees a startled male suspect - white, mid-20"s - standing by a window with a rifle in his hands. he is turning towards her. clarice drops into a combat crouch, gun extended, and shouts. clarice freeze! fbi! clarice"s pov - slow motion - all natural sound suspended - as the suspect faces her with a strange, pleading expression. the rifle is rising in his hands, but oddly enough, it is held across his chest, not pointing. then another puzzling detail registers. the suspect"s hands are taped to his gun, away from the trigger; he couldn"t use it even if he tried. suddenly we hear a metallic click, which reg- isters with unnatural amplification, as - clarice reacts, drops to the floor, rolling sideways, and - the "hostage" pulls a revolver out from behind her back, still in slow motion, raising it in her untied hands. she fires repeatedly, flames leaping from the muzzle; the sound is an echoing roar in these close quarters, but - clarice has come up on one knee, beside an armchair, and is already firing back herself, two quick shots, which send - the "hostage" pitching over the bed, backwards, to shudder and lie still in a haze of gunsmoke. clarice rushes to her, clamping one knee down on her gun hand, still keeping her covered in case of movement. hold for a few beats. then we hear the shrill blast of a whistle from somewhere, o.s., as normal action and sound are restored. brigham (o.s.) okay, people, good exercise. clarice relaxes, lowering her gun. the lights brighten. pulling back - we see that we"re in some sort of auditorium, with the "hotel room" and its "corridor" built as a training set. john brigham walks onto this set, thumbing a stopwatch. mid-40"s, ex-marine. his t-shirt"s lettering says "firearms instructor / fbi academy." brigham (contd.) starling"s reaction time was excellent. let"s break. critique in five. a class of about forty young fbi trainees, of both sexes, be- gins to rise from their seats, mingling and chatting. clarice nods amiably to the "suspect", then gives her "hostage" a hand up. it"s ardelia mapp, her roommate. her broad, clever face breaks into a big smile, as they both remove ear plugs. clarice"s voice has just a soft trace of southern accent. ardelia damn, clarice, how"d you make me? clarice (indicating her gun) never cock. just squeeze. ardelia (grins) i love it when you talk dirty. as brigham joins them, clarice can"t resist a star pupil"s little smile of pride. he frowns good-naturedly. brigham what"re you laughin" at, junior g-man? she got off four rounds to your two. he takes out a steel-coiled grip flexer, drops it onto her palm. brigham (contd.) one hundred reps, each hand, every day. now tidy up, the section chief wants to see you. he nods a direction, then moves off. clarice, with her smile finally fading, looks out into the auditorium. special agent ray campbell sits on the top step of the aisle, looking down at her. he is 53, strongly built. he rises impassively, exits through the back door. he carries a think manila envelope under one arm. ardelia who is helping clarice unbuckle her bullet-proof vest, follows her worried gaze. clarice what"d i do? ardelia stay cool. just remember to call him "god." cut to: ext. fbi academy grounds, quantico, virginia - day campbell is watching a group of trainees on the firing range, as clarice joins him. he looks tired, haunted. between master and student, we sense a subtle, muted tug of sexuality. campbell starling, clarice m., good morning. clarice good morning, mr. campbell. campbell your instructors tell me you"re doing well. top quarter of the class. clarice i hope so. they haven"t posted anything. campbell a job"s come up and i thought about you. not really a job, more of - an interest- ing errand. walk me to my car, starling. they begin to cross the academy grounds. a group of trainees jogs by, in matching sweats, following a p.e. coach. campbell (contd.) we"re trying to interview all of the serial killers now in custody, for a psychobehavioral profile. could be a big help in unsolved cases. most of them have been happy to talk to us. they have a compulsion to boast, these people. do you spook easily, starling? clarice not yet. campbell you see, the one we want most refuses to cooperate. i want you to go after him again today, in the asylum. clarice who"s the subject? campbell the psychiatrist - dr. gideon quinn. clarice stops walking, goes very still. a beat. clarice the cannibal. campbell doesn"t respond, except to study her face. clarice (contd.) yes, well. okay, right. i"m glad for the chance, sir, but - why me? campbell you"re qualified and available. and frankly, i can"t spare a real agent right now. he walks on again, at a faster clip. she hurried to keep up. campbell (contd.) i don"t expect him to talk to you, but i have to be able to say we tried. quinn was a brilliant psychiatrist, and he knows all the dodges. (hands her the manila envelope) dossier on him, copy of our question- naire, special id for you. if he won"t talk, then i want straight reporting. how"s he look, how"s his cell look, what"s he writing? the director himself will see your report, over your own signa- ture - if i decide it"s good enough. i want that by 0800 wednesday, and keep this to yourself. they"re reached his car. his driver stamps on a cigarette, climbs in behind the wheel. burroughs, his assistant, says something in- to a walkie-talkie, then opens the back door. but campbell pulls her aside, a hand on her shoulder. his intensity is scary. campbell (contd.) now. i want your full attention, starling. are you listening to me? clarice yes sir. campbell be very careful with gideon quinn. dr. prentiss at the asylum will go over the physical procedures used with him. do not deviate from them, for any reason. you tell him nothing personal, starling. believe me, you don"t want gideon quinn inside your head. just do your job, but never forget what he is. clarice (a bit unnerved) and what is that, sir? prentiss (v.o.) oh, he"s a monster. a pure psychopath. cut to: int. prentiss"s office - baltimore state hospital for the criminally insane - day close on an i.d. card held in a male hand. clarice"s photo, of- ficial-looking graphics. it calls her a "federal investigator." prentiss (contd., o.s.) it"s so rare to capture one alive. from a research point of view, dr. quinn is our most prized asset. dr. herbert prentiss looks up from her card. a smarmy little peacock, behind a vast desk; he"s conceived an instant, hopeless letch for clarice. he smiles, stroking her card with his beloved gold pen. prentiss (contd.) you know, we get a lot of detectives here, but i must say, i can"t ever remember one so attractive. new angle - reveals clarice - now wearing a more feminine skirt suit. hair neatly coiled, ele- gant shoulder bag, briefcase. he has rudely left her standing. prentiss (contd.) will you be in baltimore overnight.? because this can be quite a fun town, if you have the right guide. clarice tires, unsuccessfully, to hide her distaste for him. clarice i"m sure it"s a great town, dr. prentiss, but my instructions are to talk to quinn and report back this afternoon. prentiss (pause; sourly) i see. (beat) let"s make this quick, then. i"m busy. cut to: int. asylum corridor - upper floor - day clarice flinches as a heavy steel gate clangs shut behind her, the bolt shooting home. prentiss walks ahead of her. prentiss quinn carved up nine people - that we"re sure of - and cooked his favorite bits. we"ve tried to study him, of course - but he"s much too sophisticated for the stan- dard tests. and my, does he hate us! thinks