My movie...
I wrote a movie once
I’m not going to put the whole thing up. I’m going to ask for some feedback though. You see, I have this idea. I read a book back in the school library when I was about 16-17. It was by Thomas Hardy. It was called THE DYNASTS. I haven’t seen it since. It was, or I think it was, a combination stage play/novel about Napoleon. Really cool concept.
So I wrote this movie. The problem with movies is that they want them a certain length, and that length keeps getting shorter and shorter. I’ve got 132 page. That’s supposed to work out to a page a minute, so 2 hrs 10 minutes. That’s not too long. The problem is the story takes place during the Russian Revolution. Russia’s not exactly a great place to set your story right now. I wrote this a year or two before the centenary of the Revolution, and I’ve been playing around with it ever since. I like the story. I didn’t know a lot about the Russian Revolution, so I thought it would be easier if I told the story about someone who didn’t know what was going on around him. It’s not a comedy. Not even close. It’s…interesting.
1917
ROLL CREDITS
FADE IN
EXT—SIBERIAN GULAG—ESTABLISHING—DAY
SUPER—SIBERIA, 1937
The Gulag comes into focus; a line of seven prisoners trudging through knee-deep snow pulling an empty tractor sled. The sweat steams through their clothes.
CLOSE-ON—EXT—SIBERIA—DAY
ALEXI Kovalev, early 60’s, sweating, his beard frozen, dressed in rags and seated with his back against the sled eats a crust of bread. His hair hangs in his face as he looks at the camp around him.
The CAMERA pulls back and we see the sled full of firewood; men are resting as the sled is loaded; we see the muddy road they will follow back; the dirt, and squalor, as a sense of defeat seems to hang in the air.
EXT—CABIN—DAY
Alexi finishes stacking wood under a shelter. He picks an axe up and drives it into a stump as the door to the cabin opens. He smiles when he sees the woman standing there. OLGA, a MUTE in her late 40’s, bends down to help him with the icy laces of his boots after he stomps the snow off.
ALEXI
Goddamn it woman, I can do it myself. I don’t need you fussing over me.
Olga looks up at him, and using her own type of sign language we sense her anger; Alexi gives up, nods, and we sense he never really understands what she’s saying.
ALEXI (continuing)...
You’re not fussing? Then get out of the way and let me inside. If that’s not fussing, I don’t know what is.
She signs something to him angrily and he relents as he goes inside the cabin.
INT—CABIN—DAY
ALEXI (continuing)...
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. (Takes her into his arms and holds her.) I could never love anyone as much as I love you. You know that. Right? (He pulls away to look at her and she scowls at him.)
INT—CABIN—NIGHT
Seated at a wooden table Alexi pushes an empty bowl aside and Olga takes it away. She puts the soup bowl into a pail of ice-covered water, then throws more wood into the stove and blows the flames back to life. She puts the pail on top of the stove. Alexi searches for a tin of tobacco and stuffs the bowl of a large pipe. Lighting the pipe as well as the candle on the table, he uses the candle to light other candles and the cluttered room comes into view. As he smokes, he appears lost in thought.
He opens a notebook and takes a battered violin off a hook on the wall. He begins to read the musical score he has been working on for the better part of his life.
He plays a soft, melodic piece; something along the lines of Massenet’s “Meditation”, and closing his eyes HEARS other instruments coming into play and then we HEAR the single VOICE of a soprano singing a VOCALISE.
DISSOLVE
SUPER—PETROGRAD, FEBRUARY 1917
EXT—PETROGRAD—CITY PROSPEKT—DAY—(STOCK)
The city lays under a blanket of snow; the echo of sporadic GUNFIRE is heard in the distance. There’s a sense of panic in the streets—a hue and cry of VOICES—as citizens slip and slide through the streets in a mad effort to escape, while LE MARSEILLES fills the air.
EXT—REVERSE ON SAME PETROGRAD PROSPEKT—DAY
A MOB of striking workers—as well as deserters, sailors, and soldiers—comes around the corner carrying a banner stretching the width of the street; they are a MOTLEY GROUP of angry men and women; unshaven and unkempt, their voices ring out with song.
EXT—ANOTHER PETROGRAD STREET—DAY
ALEXI Kovalev, in his early 40’s, is carrying a violin case under his left arm. He’s wearing a greatcoat with a scarf wrapped around his neck, a fur hat pulled low on his head. He takes his hands out of his pockets and bites a glove off as he looks for his cigarette case in his inside breast pocket.
EXT—KSHESHINSKAYA’S MANSION—ESTABLISHING—DAY
INT—GRAND SALON—DAY
We hear the final movement of Beethoven’s FIFTH STRING QUARTET. The PETROGRAD STRING QUARTET is seated on a small stage along with Alexi. They are NATASHA PROKOPENKO: mid 30’s, second violin. She’s blind and facially scarred, and though she wears a mask, one can plainly see she was once beautiful; VASSILY/VASHA LISTNITSKY: late 30’s, viola—the lover of Natasha—and a radical Revolutionary. He’s a fervent Bolshevik willing to give up everything for the Revolution; ANDREI: late 40’s, cello—a discreet homosexual and the group’s founding member.
The audience is made up of thirty aristocrats, most of whom are TALKING among themselves; those who are standing are holding drinks and smoking cigarettes.
CLOSE ON:
Mathilde KSHESHINSKAYA, mid 40’s, seated between Grand Duke ROMANOV, second cousin of the Czar, also in his mid 40’s, and Prince CHEGODIEV, in his early 30’s, a blatant transvestite and Hashish smoker; when he crosses his legs, you can see the unmistakable sheen of silk stockings. Ksheshinskaya opens her eyes suddenly when she hears GUNFIRE in the distance, and quickly looks for MIKHAIL, her butler, giving him a discreet nod.
Mikhail leaves the Salon and she turns back to the recital.
EXT—MONTAGE OF SHOTS—DAY
A) The MOB is marching and singing Le Marseilles as they make their way down the street, smashing windows.
B) The man leading the mob is MOLOTOV, in his mid 20’s; he is short, stocky, and committed: a Bolshevik.
C) COSSACKS leave the PETER AND PAUL FORTESS, riding through snow covered streets at an easy gait.
D) (REVERSE POV) The Cossacks watch the approaching mob as they crest the bridge.
E) The horses’ hooves stomp at the icy street as the Cossacks wait.
EXT—MOB’S POV—LONG SHOT—TROITSKY BRIDGE—DAY
With Ksheshinskaya’s Mansion only partially visible in the falling snow, and the Peter and Paul Fortress looming in the distance, the COSSACK HORSE PLATOON waits.
EXT—REVERSE POV—PETROGRAD STREET—DAY
The MOB falls silent as the waiting horses STOMP their hooves and exhale nervously into the cold afternoon air. The Cossacks lean forward to settle the horses as the COMMANDER calls for the men to remain steady and draw their swords.
EXT—KSHESHINSKAYA’S MANSION—BACKDOOR—DAY
A number of auto sleds and horse sleighs drive away as Mikhail crosses the driveway. He tries to run after them as he realizes they are leaving, and finally approaches the last driver, GRISHKA, a grizzled veteran of the Turkish War in the Crimea.
INT—REVERSE POV—KITCHEN—DAY
A servant cracks open the door and looks through the small opening. The falling snow all but obscures the figures of Mikhail and the old man.
EXT—DRIVEWAY—DAY
MIKHAIL
Grishka? What? Where are you going? What’s
going on? Where are they going?
GRISHKA tries to steady the horses as the sound of GUNFIRE echoes in the distance. He climbs into the sleigh as Mikhail approaches, reaching for the horse’s reins.
GRISHKA
Where are they going? Where does it look like? They’re leaving—and you should too.
MIKHAIL
Leaving? But why?
GRISHKA
Why? Because we don’t want to get killed, that’s why! Is your head so far up Ksheshinskaya’s ass you can’t see what’s going on?
EXT—REVERSE POV—PETROGRAD STREET—DAY
Mikhail follows Grishka’s gaze, where he sees the MOB waiting on the other side of the bridge.
MIKHAIL
Holy Mother of God.
GRISHKA
God has nothing to do with this my friend—and leave His Mother out of it! It’s 1905 all over again—they’ve even called out the Cossacks!
MIKHAIL
But...the guests? (Grishka pulls at the reins and Mikhail lets go as Grishka slaps the reins down.) Grishka! You can’t just leave!
EXT—DRIVEWAY—REVERSE POV—DAY
Mikhail thinks about chasing the sled but stops on the driveway. He pauses to look at the mob before he rushes back into the mansion.
INT—KITCHEN—DAY
The servants jump out of the way as Mikhail bursts in. He leans against the door and looks about suspiciously. He shakes his head slowly, grimly; the servants look at one another as first one, and then another, take off their aprons.
So there you have the opening scene. It’s the eve of the February Revolution—International Women’s Day—and our hero, Alexi, has to do whatever he can to save his friends and get out of Dodge as quick as he can. The problem is the rest of the world is at war.
My question?
(And I do have one…)
Can I turn this into a book/movie combo the way I remember THE DYNASTS having been written? I think it’s safe to say that I don’t remember that Hardy book being anything other than what I imagine it was. It was big and thick…(ooh, that doesn’t sound right, does it?) But as a book project, what do you think? They do publish screenplays, but this wouldn’t be that, would it?