Law of the Wood [12]
An Original Motion Picture - Script
Third Revision
Written by: L T Hunter
[Camera view flashes of images of wolves chasing through woods
man in camera, focus on footsteps in deep snow, drifts of blowing
snow. Man running, with wolves in pursuit. Flashes of aircraft
crashing to snow covered lake, skipping off hard crust of ice and
snow. Camera blinking as the eyes of the man in a bed. Coming into
consciousness. Blurred focus, camera panning around the inside of
a rustic two room home, dark, except for light from hearth of fire.]
Narrator:
Three days I slept. In warm comfort, a large bed covered in the
pelts of wild caribou, arctic seal, polar bear, and wolf, I dreamed.
I relived the crash, hours I spent isolated, and alone in the dark.
When I awoke, it was to the aromas of fresh meat, and vetchtables
cooking in a native stew. An incredibly beautiful Inuit goddess stood,
not far from the foot of the bed, stirring the large cast iron pot. Her
jet black hair, tied back with raven feathers, cascaded to the side
of her left shoulder, as she blended the heavenly broth with a large
bone handled spoon made from a walrus tusk.
[Camera moves from various perspectives in the small two room cabin
showing the way of native traditions, art, culture in the village the
man rises, noticing his nakedness, and quickly grabs his clothes all
neatly folded beside the bed on the floor. He dresses under the cover
of the fur blankets on the bed, and looks for his boots which seem to
be absent. The native woman ignores his searching, remaining silent
still slowly cooking the meal. The man looks out the small, heavily
frosted plate glass window, having to clear off a small port-hole to
see to the outside. The camera perspective should demonstrate the
extreme difference in temperature between the inside and outside.]
Narrator:
The village was an amazing place. A juxtaposition between our modern
era, yet still ancient as their culture remained; the modern day was
hybrid was startling. Their small, modest homes, were scattered in an
oval around a central part of the community. I had been studying this
particular village for quite some time. It’s native traditions managed
to survive so many temptations, incursions and invasions from the white
man’s world. Here the village Elders were the final authority on the
day to day goings-on in this community. I remembered back to the report
of two boys who were banished to survive on a small island from their
native village for some sort of mischief, and considered how usual it
is in this day, that such a family atmosphere can still exist with so
much pressure to be incorporated into the rest of the world by the
demands of money, politics and technology.
[Suddenly the door swung open, and in the doorway a large man wearing
a parka, with a thick wolf fringe held a large rifle. He guestured to
the woman standing over the large cast iron pot still cooking. She
moved to his side and grasped his rifle and his parka. She moved to
the long row of wooden pegs and hung both side by side.]
The Guide:
After a long pause, “How do you feel?”
Narrator:
“I’m okay, a bit hungry.”
The Guide:
Another long pause, “Dinner is ready.”
Narrator:
“Good, that cooking brought me out of my dreams…”
________________________________________________End of Scene
Unedited Portion …Still Working
Cut: Scene interior small guard post. Winter. Light from the outside barely makes it through the window past the rows of icicles which encase the frame like the bars of a cell. Camera pans across each of the icy tentacles, and cross-fades to the rows of worn painted steel bars, white, chipped and flaking, to reveal that each holding area is vacant. Exterior: Cross-fades through a series of images which contrast the long narrow slits of the windows at the back of each of the cell with the icicles reaching down from every exterior wall at the top to piles of snow banked against the building. Color from the following sequences only seems muted, in an attempt to carry a theme of a monochromatic world meeting one of intense color, however use of lens filters or subtractions during post-production should be avoided in lieu of using the inherent colors, and lack thereof, in the subject matter, the set, and waredrobe.
Cut: Interior. At a desk is a lone police detective still reading from a dossier as the dimly lit amber screen reflects off his reading glasses slowly scrolling current messages from other networked computers. The room is quiet except for a small gun-metal grey portable radio which is playing light instrumental jazz only slightly louder than the intermittant chatter of other officers broadcasting from somewhere else in the world outside the small, spartan office, the walls lined with trophies in perfectly arranged squares, awards with black and white photographs. Everything is arranged with precision and somewhat a mathematical symmetry. The radio chatter takes on a noticably regular timed interval, between even the various content and contexts; the ambient sound almost becomes a parody of a metronome in some symbolic call and answer to the jazz, between the voices of two radios playing at opposite sides of the room in the background.
In the corner of the room a large board stands covered from one edge to the other in “wanted” posters. All are extremely neatly arranged. A large permanent marker had been used recently to ink over several portraits with a large “X”, next to a wall-sized dry-erase board with a calendar with similiar markings, however, meticulously handwritten lists of various aspects used to manage the course of numerous open investigations.
Cut: A brighter, flashing light that is somewhat out of focus, on the computer monitor reflects in the reading glasses of the officer. The detective leans forward.
Cut: From over the detective’s shoulder the camera focuses on a series of bullentins coming into the frame from the top of the computer scrolling down. Camera cuts through series of words “armed, and extremely dangerous”
Cut: Detective closes folds of dossier and pushes a stack of them into a perfectly symetrical stack. As the camera pulls back from the shot, it is aparent that every object in the room as nearly a row and column orchestration. Everything appears black and white and angular; at almost a nearly ‘too perfect’ structure, with each item having a relationship at right angles with each other, as if, even blindfolded every single piece of this detective’s office had a designated place and predetermined order.
Cut: From blackout. From the interior of the weapons locker as door is opened. The detective is seen in the frame standing perfectly at the center of the camera in front of meticulously rowed boxes of ammunition and an assortment of firearms, all perfectly clean, however worn, jet-black and safety locked with keyed trigger locks. Drawing a small key from beneath his shirt, old dog-tags are briefly visible as he unlocks his sidearm from its perch, after adjusting his holster. The entire process is a briefly managed but obviously deeply ritualized. He removes a small black book from the top shelf of the locker, quickly making a single note and returns it to its station.
Cut: Scene Exterior Guard Post. Winter. Detective enters unmarked white full-sized all-wheel drive perfectly clean vehicle. The vehicle has been made to appear deliberately featureless however taking a somewhat aggressive appearence from its would-be stock form.
Cut: Scene Interior Detective cruiser. Winter. The inteior of the cruiser perfectly arranged. Subtle references to an extreme obession with symmetry in the arrangements. Detective passes his fingers across a row of paperclips in a perfect line across the visor in a tight shot that focuses in on the one out of order. Slightly adjusting the last which had somehow moved outside the discolored indentation, to again perfectly inhabit its sillouette. The radio preset already playing the exact same jazz song, almost right where it left off cascading over the interior of cruiser, mixed with the regular interval of chatter of the police band.
Cut: Exterior. Empty parking lot. Winter. Piles of snow encircle the entire perimeter of the lot. Entire area although recently plowed is now filled with untracked thin layer of snow to the depth of about three inches. White detective’s cruiser enters frame at center from empty street, advancing to a stop when detective is fully in view through the front windshield of vehicle. The entering vehicle makes the only tracks.
Cut: Exterior. Winter. Wheel of white detective vehicle centered in frame. Tire leaving a single track behind however leaving undisturbed snow at front under nose of vehicle.
Cut: Exterior. Winter. Boot of detective reaching down slightly escaping the sheath of crisply pressed pants, a leg falling toward ground, making a track in snow. Then the other, as detective leaves white unmarked vehicle into the empty parking lot.
Cut: Exterior. Winter. Featureless white stryofoam cup, whisps of steam gently rising as detective tastes beverage. The detective looks down toward the ground.
Cut: Exterior. Winter. Panning shot moving out from the tips of detective’s boots into the untracked white snow as the camera moves ahead, slowly pulling back slightly. The camera centers above the detective standing at the bottom middle of the shot. Advancing into a wide-angle perspective. Toward the top in stark difference between the black and white themes, are the emergence of subtle random red stains beginning slightly beneath the thin white blanket of snow, several scattered red droplets frozen in the snow, as camera pan continues they cover a much greater area in a chaotic, startling tormented crimson pattern making huge sweeping arcs among freshly trampled places in the snow.
Cut: Exterior. Winter. Tight shot with camera focusing on gnarled weathered ungloved hand of detective reaching down into the swaths of red stain, slightly touching the surface with the first and middle fingers held together very lightly, making a gentle mark of the position.
Cut: Exterior. Winter. Wide angle shot, camera focusing on detective kneeling with hand still reaching down slightly at up angle from beneath his eye level, the camera pulled back slightly with the detective in frame at its center. Detective reaches into his breast pocket and retrieves a small white plastic rectangular bag and a white plastic ball point pen. Returning to the same spot in the snow a small sample is placed into the container, however at the distance the actual details remain unclear. Snow starts to fall suddenly. The camera angle is wide enough to capture birds moving in from out of the frame. A large raven lands near the hood of the white detective’s cruiser, as from a nearby tree many other ravens have gathered their metered voices cast a sinister contrast to the radio chatter that is overshadowed from the distance.
[Notes: The detective character never speaks during the entire sequence. Radio chatter from the other unseen police remains persistent throughout, however, it’s an element of each scene that serves merely as a meter for the passage of time. Various elements of theme should be carried through the term of the sequence. The complexity of discipline represented by an undercurrent of simple black and white images, the order and structure maintained within the world the detective controls and the chaos which is explored by the detective when documented should be given priority throughout the attempt to indirectly convey a world that is harsh and cold. The focus should not be on the process by which the investigation takes, but on the individual elements of the scene where a deliberate contrast is made between a rigid form and the unknown or abstract.]
Exterior winter at nightfall, tight panning shot focusing parka wearing figure moving toward a tent surrounded by snow, a huge fire outside illuminating the other tents scattered among the sparse number of trees at the edge of a spruce forest adorned with ice glistening in the flickering firelight.
Interior of tent, one tall enough that the figure entering the tent leans forward only momentarily then stands up removing his hood, his face illuminated beneath the hard light of a gas lantern and turns to man sitting in front of a portable computer screen.
“Where is she?”
Man at computer turns to face other as snow falls from jacket onto keyboard.
“I don’t know yet…”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean, the telemetry from the sled is gone, dunno when I’ll get it back.”
“Now when I hired you, you said you were the best, you said this was proven in the field. There’s money on the line here. Her life is on the line here. Where is she?”
“I don’t know…”
“Let me put it to you this way. The storm is moving in, it will be here in a couple hours. It’s already too cold to fly around looking for where she might be. No one else has seen her at all, and you are the one whose only job is to make sure we know where she is, and you’re saying you don’t know. Is that what you’re saying to me?”
“Yeah, er…”
“You’re telling me that I’ve spend several thousand dollars to listen to your long-winded bullshit, and you don’t know?”
“Maybe when the storm clears we…”
“It’s already almost fifty below zero. She’s all alone out there somewhere in the middle of the storm with fourteen dogs…”
“But sir…”
“If she sleeps outside, so do you, do you understand me asshole…”
Another figure enters the room wearing a similar team parka with patches. Walking into the tent quickly he separates the two men who look to be ready to exchange fists. Parting between them, his fist grips the front of their zippered hoods, being a bit larger than them both put together. Radio static continues in the background briefly interrupted by smatterings of morose code which is slightly garbled.
“Cool it guys. Now listen to me. Forget about being fired…”
“You dumbass motherf…”
“Just stop it… Forget about all the things running through your head right now. What I need from you two is your best. I need to have your head in the game here. She was leading the field by a couple hours. Maybe she’ll beat the storm and make it to us all by herself. She’s a lot tougher than you might think.”
“Me and you aren’t finished by a longshot…”
Leaves tent.
“Get on that radio. Keep calling her. Gimme the Doppler on the storm, I wanna see what kinda beast she’s up against.”
Cut. Exterior winter. Whiteout. Gangline of dogs pulling sled. Camera angle from over left shoulder looking forward toward lead dog which is obscured by drifting snow making the trail difficult to see in the lens.
Cut. Exterior winter. Whiteout. Tight shot of face covered over in ice and frost cascading across her face as she pushes her dog team through a valley as the sun finally vanishes between two mountains far off in the distance.
“C’mon Koto. C’mon keep pushing for mommie. C’mon baby keep pushing.”
Dogs panting as the pace accelerates down into a small cluster of trees.
[Field Notes: Student/searcher of professor also lost in storm believing he found where the professor was. Gets lost en route. Feelings of hopelessness, alone, and then finds group of cabins. Inventor/Russian man in one cabin working on so-called “secret” project is a recluse/hermit fires warning shots, they meet. Says that the rest of the cabins are empty except for one with his brother, who he claims is a “logger” who also keeps to himself. [the fugitive] Russian also reveals that he had met professor but says that he might return, as the professor had went off looking for a biologist who had went missing while collecting “samples”. Dog musher finds cabin with dogs. Biologist is in her sled. Fugitive helps them to the cabin with the hermit and the student who is sitting by a large fireplace. Love interest begins between musher and biologist. Police officer lands in bush plane, discovers that the plane can no longer fly due to weather, proceeds on snowmachine from nearby village. Gets lost in storm. Police officer still following clues that seem to be leading to the cabins. Beginning of the end as the game of “who done it” begins when professor returns with a young native girl, who we discover is his recently orphaned niece, by marriage. Explains death of his wife, and the young girl’s parents. Discussion about family begins around fireside. Police officer is silent, only observing. All meet each other, within hours of their individual arrivals. The stories play out, inconsistentcies arise. Interplay.]
[Personal Note: Having a difficult time with the finished revisions. Every time I think I have explained the characters I feel that much of the backstory is either too lengthy or absent. Perhaps that is what I found most exciting about the early days of the film making industry and the stories that captivated my imagination. It was what was left out that made them magical. They didn’t need graphic violence or object nudity, that such was considered obscene, that it was their lack of technical and technological advent which forced them to leave certain aspects of the portrayal in each plot up to the imagination. Blood and gore absent from Hitchcock movies, made the suggestions of horrific scenes more intense. The model building and creative set designs made some of the early works of science fiction believable by virtue of the viewer’s imagination. In writing out the script, this exercise has gotten the better of me I believe. It’s also probably the reason why I keep starting over, rewriting passages I’ve already worked out in my head, only to return to previous segments of the creative process to rework older ideas. From now on I’ll share the best parts of what I’ve had in my mind’s eye as I would see this movie if actually presented in a theathre.]
Additional Reference Materials:
http://www.ultimateiditarod.com/Dogteam.htm
http://www.helpsleddogs.org/faq.htm
1 year ago