Post by California gal on Dec 1, 2009 15:32:26 GMT -8
GARRISON PRODUCTIONS
CBS-TV
THE WILD WILD WEST
“THE NIGHT OF THE BOTTOMLESS PIT”
by
Ken Kolb
FINAL DRAFT
#0312
AUGUST 2 1966
THE WILD WILD WEST
“THE NIGHT OF THE BOTTOMLESS PIT”
EXECUTIVE PRODUCER
MICHAEL GARRISON
PRODUCER
BRUCE LANSBURY
ASSOCIATE PRODUCER
LEONARD KATZMAN
STORY CONSULTANT
HENRY SHARP
WRITTEN BY
KEN KOLB
SETS:
EXT. DOCKSIDE
EXT. PRISON QUADRANGLE
INT. ADMINISTRATION BUILDING CORRIDOR
INT. COMMANDANT’S OUTER OFFICE
EXT. ROAD
INT. THE PIT
INT. ‘CHAMBER OF TOGETHERNESS’
INT. SECRET CORRIDOR
INT. CAMILLE’S BEDROOM
EXT. JUNGLE
INT. TRAIN
EXT. NATIVE QUARTER
INT. NATIVE CURIO SHOP
CAST
JAMES WEST – ROBERT CONRAD
ARTEMUS GORDON – ROSS MARTIN
GUSTAVE MAUVAIS
LE COCHON
HENRI COUTEAU
GUARD
GUARD A
GUARD B
CAMILLE MAUVAIS
LIME
VINCENT REED
LE FOU
ORIENTAL
SENEGALESE
NATIVE BOY
MRS. GRIMES
SILENT:
GUARDS
PRISONERS
NATIVE WOMAN
GENTLEMAN
BLIND BEGGARMAN
TEASER
FADE IN:
1. On a far-off SHOT of an island. HOLD, the PULL BACK until a large sign supported on a standard comes into focus; the sign reads (duplicated in French and English) “EMBARKATION—DEVIL’S ISLAND”…
… CAMERA ANGLES to show that we have been viewing Devil’s Island from the vantage point of:
2. EXT. DOCKSIDE SCENE – NIGHT
Palm trees, silhouetted against the night sky form the background of a deserted dock area, with a couple of corrugated iron shacks nearby, a litter of barrels, crates, piles of rope, etc. CAMERA MOVES to show a long boat moored to the dock, bobbing in the swell, and now we see lolling at his ease in the stern, a GUARD, unshaven, the stand-up collar of his khaki tunic unbuttoned, mat matching the equally unkempt condition of the rest of his uniform. As we HOLD on guard we HEAR, FAINTLY at first, then GROWING LOUDER, PLEASANT TINKLING, JANGLING SOUNDS: CAMERA ANGLES…
3. ANOTHER ANGLE
… to show a group of SIX PRISONERS approaching the dock, marching in ragged unison, with one equally unkempt guard sheepdogging them, a rifle in his hands. The TINKLING, JANGLING sounds proceed from the chain manacles that bind the prisoner’s wrists and ankles. As we watch, one of the prisoners, slips, falls, then scrambles to his feet again.
4. ANOTHER ANGLE – AT DOCK
as Guard #1 steps from boat to dock to wave an indolent greeting to Guard #2 who comes up to him, yawning. He produces a sheet of paper from an inside pocket and hands it to his colleague. As Guard #1, bored, obviously going through the motions of an old, dull routine, starts checking names on the list he has been handed against the list of his own…
Rev. 7/28/66
… CAMERA LEAVES the guards and moves to the nearby group of prisoners who have halted and are waiting at the edge of the dock. CAMERA examines each one briefly, then moves on, until it arrives at the last—an ATTRACTIVE, SENSITIVE-LOOKING MAN, unlike all the others. (He is HENRI COUTEAU). CAMERA HOLDS on Couteau, then moves down the length of his body, coming to rest at his ankle, from which position we can see the ocean’s water lapping against the piling of the low dock…
… and now we see a pair of manacles hands rising out of the water; one hand grasps the edge of the dock, the other reaches up, grab’s Couteau’s trouser leg and yanks—and, with a STARTLING CRY, Couteau topples over and plunges into the water.
5. ANOTHER ANGLE
Both guards are galvanized into furious activity; one clubs the startled prisoners away from the dock from which Couteau plunged, the other trains his rifle on the water…
… then whips the gun into an aiming position as Couteau suddenly bobs to the surface, his manacled hands flailing in the air as he cries:
COUTEAU
Help!
The guard (reluctantly, we can see) stays his rifle finger at the last moment, puts his gun down, extends a hand and hauls Couteau onto the dock—then suddenly brings his rifle butt down hard, sending the dripping figure slamming to the ground.
GUARD
You like to swim, eh?
COUTEAU
(muffled)
I slipped.
GUARD
Contrive not to slip again, if you know what is good for you!
He yanks Couteau roughly to his feet and walks away. CAMERA MOVES IN to a CLOSE SHOT of Couteau, running a hand through his hair, only now we see that it is no longer Couteau—it is JAMES WEST, a small, guarded smile of triumph curving his lips.
6. ANOTHER ANGLE
showing the line of prisoners being herded into the long boat, with the dripping figure of West bringing up the rear. The prisoners pick up oars and start pulling away from the dock, the guards seated at stern and prow, rifles at the ready. As boat moves out of view, CAMERA ANGLES…
… then MOVES DOWN and TRAVELS across the length of the dock – until it stops and MOVES IN to a…
7. CLOSE SHOT – UNDER THE DOCK
of two men, only their heads bobbing above the water as they cling to pilings; one, we see is ARTEMUS (suitably dressed for the occasion in what looks to be a skindivers suit) and, as he removes his hand that has been cupped over the other’s mouth (obviously to forestall any startled outcry) we see that the other is the real Henri Couteau—eyes wide with bewilderment as he stares off after the (unseen) departing longboat.
ARTEMUS
Keep it nice and low, Monsieur Couteau.
COUTEAU
But—I don’t understand!
(pointing off at boat)
He’s allowing them to transport him to Devil’s Island?
ARTEMUS
Yes. So far, so good.
COUTEAU
But why? Why would he want to spend twenty years in that hell?
ARTEMUS
(shrugging)
Let’s call it a whim, shall we?
FADE OUT
END TEASER
Rev. 8/2/66
FADE IN:
8. EXT. PRISON QUADRANGLE – DAY
CAMERA MOVES over the area, past work parties of prisoners being herded along by the usual unkempt guards—past the administration building, pat the guard’s barracks, the cell block, the massive gates set in the high wall—during which CREDITS and TITLES will be show…
… then on to a LINE OF PRISONERS, among whom we see West; he, like all the others is staring off, fascinatedly—and CAMERA ANGLES, then moves up a gallows-like platform to show the apparatus that all are staring at…
8A. CLOSE SHOT – THE GILLOTINE
A GUARD is making final adjustments to the release mechanism—then as we watch, he pulls the release cord and the gleaming, slant-edged blade flashes down with a THUNK! and a decapitated head rolls into the wicker tray that has been set up to receive it…
… only now, as CAMERA MOVES IN, we see that the decapitated head is that of a manikin. Obviously, this is just a dry run.
8B. BACK TO WEST AND OTHER PRISONERS
as another GUARD appears and roughly shoves the line into movement, and now we see that the line of prisoners is moving past a checkpoint where two guards stand. Guard A, checking off names on a clipboard—Guard B unlocking manacles and tossing them on a pile of other manacles. As a freshly de-manacled PRISONER is waved off and limps out of view, ANOTHER PRISONER steps into place at the checkpoint. Guard A roughly yanks at the man’s dogtag, glances at it, then:
GUARD A
Emile Krulak
(during the following, Guard A is unlocking and removing manacles from the prisoner’s wrists and ankles)
GUARD B
(checking off name)
Emile Krulak; to the road gang.
(as prisoner starts to limp away)
Now, then, look alive;
The man limps hastily out of view.
8C. INT. CAMILLE’S BEDROOM – DAY
CLOSE ON MRS. GRIMES, an Elsa Lanchester type Englishwoman of mature years, pins in her mouth, working away on the hem of a garment, as CAMERA PULLS BACK… then TRAVELS UP…
… and we see that the hem is part of an elegant gown being fitted to CAMILLE, an almost over-ripe, too-voluptuous young lady of 25, who is seen to be standing on a stool, looking with sulky, unenthusiastic expression at her reflection in a large mirror nearby. She turns and glances casually out, through shuttered window close at hand, and we see her react, obviously interested…
. HER POV
West, standing in the checkpoint line, gazing off at the guillotine.
8E. BACK TO CAMILLE
still staring out of the window—but no longer wearing a sulky, unenthusiastic expression—instead, her lips part and an almost dreamy smile animates her as she watches West…
… and it is that this time that Mrs. Grimes finishes here pinning, stands up with a primly satisfied expression, then becomes aware that Camille’s attention is very much taken. She follows Camille’s eyes and joins her in staring out of the window at:
8F. POV – WEST
as he steps into the checkpoint position, where Guard A yanks his dogtag into a readable position.
GUARD A
Henry Couteau
He bends to unlock and remove West’s ankle manacles as Guard B drones on boredly, checking off name on list.
GUARD B
Henry Couteau; to the –
(reacting)
— the Commandant!
(looks West over incredulously)
What would the commandant want with vermin like you?
WEST
(shrugging)
To join him in a cup of mint tea and a watercress sandwich, I suppose…
The two guards exchange swift, outraged glances at West’s lighthearted temerity, then (with a deftness and dispatch that indicates that they have done this many time before) Guard A pins West’s arms from behind while Guard B draws back his massive arm preparatory to smashing his fist into West’s face.
WEST (CONT'D)
… and to make my usual undercover report on the inefficiency of the prison personnel!
Guard B’s arm freezes in mid-air as he stares uncertainly at West—this unkempt prisoner is just tempting fate with his suicidal sense of humor, of course—and yet, as West’s cold, unflinching eyes bore into his, the guard falters and drops his arm, laughing weakly as if the whole thing was just a joke. To Guard A, still pinning West’s arms from behind:
GUARD B
(indignantly)
Alors, mutton-brain, release the man!
(to West—ingratiatingly)
I, myself, will conduct you to the Commandant.
WEST
(curtly)
That’s more like it.
(to Guard A—extending his manacled hands)
You: look alive!
GUARD A
(hurriedly unlocking manacles)
At once, Monsieur!
West takes his unlocked manacles, tosses them contemptuously to the ground, then turns with studied nonchalance and strolls after Guard B as he starts leading the way toward the administration building.
8G. BACK TO CAMILLE
as she turns away from the window, wearing her dreamy expression—then turns her attention to her reflection in the mirror—considers it, then impulsively rips off a layer of lace on the bodice; her neckline is now a plunging neckline, and from her expression Camille approves. On Mrs. Grimes’ shocked expression,
FLIP TO:
10. INT. COMMANDANT’S OUTER OFFICE – DAY
CLOSE, on doorway as a guard swings door open and West steps through the doorway and looks around distastefully at the grimy, empty office that is now seen—barred windows, a splintered desk, a bench and a couple of chairs…
… and, as the opened door is swung shut by the admitting guard, we also see disclosed a formidably huge bulky guard, in the room, arms akimbo, staring down at West. (He is LE COCHON.) West turns and reacts appropriately at the sight of the massive figure at his elbow.
WEST
(pins on an affable smile)
How do you do, Commandant. Nice place you have here.
LE COCHON
(plucking at West’s tunic)
Take it off.
West looks at him, puzzled, then, with a speed spectacular in one so huge, Le Cochon’s ham-like hand flashes out, grabs West’s tunic and rips it right of his back in one irresistible lunge; West, bare to the waist, instinctively goes into a fighter’s crouch, hands balled into fists—but Le Cochon disregards him, picks another tunic from the nearby desk and tosses it to West.
LE COCHON (CONT'D)
Get into that.
Now we see that the tunic West has been tossed is newly laundered, immaculate. West relaxes as he sniffs happily at it, then:
WEST
Thanks, Commandant, it’s a definite improvement.
(as he buttons tunic)
Now how about some hot water, soap, a razor and…
West never finishes the sentence as another of Le Cochon’s ham-like hands flashes out, seizes West’s shoulder and swivels him around with tooth-rattling violence, forcing him to face the one completely blank wall in the office…
… which silently, smoothly slides open as we watch—to disclose an immaculate, sumptuously furnished office extending beyond; velour drapes framing the windows, thick rugs gracing the floor, a gild and ivory desk fit for a Maharaja—and seated at the elegant desk, his back turned to us, a starchy white-uniformed, lean figure meets our eyes; we HOLD for a long beat on this…
… then the lean-, white-uniformed figure swivels around in his chair and we are looking at a thin-faced embodiment of evil in the person of GUSTAVE MAUVAISE—BUT note the operative clause that describes Gustave Mauvais—it is “fastidiousness”; his evil is inescapably tied in with a compulsive cleanliness—with a horror of dirt of any kind that borders on the psychotic, as we shall see.
MAUVAIS
(thoughtfully surveying West)
Odd, I imagined you’d be older-looking, Monsieur Couteau.
WEST
(shrugging apologetically)
Sorry to disappoint you. Perhaps in time…
MAUVAIS
Yes, of course—time; we have great quantities of that around here.
From an atomizer he squirts eau de cologne into his hands and washes hands sensuously with it, during the following:
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
… And in the fullness of time, aided by the celebrated way our local sun transforms a fresh, youthful face like yours into a parchment covered death-head…
Now he lovingly pats his hands dry with a snowy white handkerchief which, when he is through, he will toss into a wastebasket.
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
… yes, you’ll mature properly before very long, Monsieur.
(a small, sardonic bow)
But forgive my lapse of manners—
(a gesture at Le Cochon)
This is Cochon, my social director. And I—I am Gustave Mauvais, Commandant of our little retreat.
WEST
(bowing elaborately in turn)
I’ve heard both of you mentioned before.
MAUVAIS
(to Le Cochon, standing stolidly nearby)
You hear? We are not entirely lost in the mists of anonymity —
(back to West)
You are most welcome, Monsieur Couteau; our usual clients arrive at our recreational center for various reasons; murder most foul, for instance, in any of the thousand and one way that spicy dish can be served up…
Mauvais goes into an elaborate routine of fitting a cigarette into an amber holder as he speaks. During the following, he will light and puff at it, and the inordinate care with which he disposes of the cigarette ash that accumulates will point up again his all-consuming aversion to dirt of any kind.
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
Then there’s arson—embezzlement, if it’s on a grand enough scale—occasionally even a soupcon of treason to enliven the dreary, workaday round—
(his eyes glitter during the following)
—but your offense, Monsieur—ah, yours was indeed a monstrous fall from grace!
WEST
(obviously stalling—doesn’t really know)
Oh, it wasn’t as bad as all that.
Rev. 7/28/66
MAUVAIS
You don't think so, eh?
He takes a pair of spotlessly white gloves and slips them on before picking up a sheet of paper and reading aloud from it.
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
“France’s Crown of Thorns—Devil’s Island! Beginning a sensational expose by the celebrated journalist Henri Couteau…”
(lifts his glittering smile to West)
You went so far as to argue that the colony be abolished, and to propose a national trial for that arch-villain, Gustave Mauvais…
WEST
(shrugging)
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
MAUVAIS
… instead of which you found yourself on trial for impugning the honor of our nation; the verdict was never in doubt.
WEST
All I could do was to plead youthful high spirits.
(moving toward Mauvais)
May I see the rest of the article, Comm…
The effect on Mauvais is electric; he recoils in horror before West’s outstretched hand and the next moment West is sent reeling by a roundhouse blow from Le Cochon…
Rev. 8/2/66
11. ANOTHER ANGLE
West slowly rises to his feet, shaking his head to clear it. Le Cochon, deadpan as ever, is standing over him, his massive hands knotted into fists…
… and Mauvais has risen from his desk and is agitatedly rubbing his hands with another snowy handkerchief, which he discards with the most evident distaste into a wastebasket.
MAUVAIS
I hope the moral of this little episode has not been lost on you, Monsieur—never reach out your filthy hand to me; understand?
WEST
I’m beginning to. As for your charming friend, Cochon…
West’s swing is a blurred arc as he whirls and plants a smashing right to Le Cochon’s jaw…
… and reacts amazedly to see that Le Cochon hardly blinks at the jarring impact; an incredulous beat then West follows it up with an equally smashing left that thuds into Le Cochon’s middle—with equally unsensational results.
MAUVAIS’ VOICE
Cochon—no!
West turns to find Mauvais lifting a peremptory finger at Cochon, who is gathering himself for a lunge at West; at Mauvais’ command, Le Cochon relaxes…
… and now for the first time we see that a door in the back of Mauvais’ office has opened—and framed in the doorway is Camille, whose eyes stray almost immediately in an intent stare at West. Mauvais looks sardonically from her to West as she says:
CAMILLE
Am I interrupting, Gustave?
MAUVAIS
Of course not, my dear. Come in and have a better look at the young man.
CAMILLE
(tearing her eyes away with effort)
What? What young man? I just stopped by to ask for your opinion.
She beckons through the doorway and Mrs. Grimes enters, clutching several gowns.
CAMILLE (CONT'D)
My gown for the reception—gold lamé or the sequins?
MAUVAIS
(a cursory glance at the bolts)
They’re both very charming, my dear; whichever you…
He stops, aware that Camille’s lovely eyes have strayed to West again and are measuring him intently.
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
Fine featured, hard muscled, with engaging tousled hair just made to run your hands through, eh?
CAMILLE
(sullenly)
I don't know what you’re talking about.
MAUVAIS
But forgive me, my dear Camille, may I present our latest guest, Monsieur Couteau?
(to West)
My devoted wife.
West bows; Camille ignores him, flounces to the door, where she pauses, turning indignant eyes to Mauvais.
CAMILLE
I certainly didn’t mean to interrupt!
And she exits, followed by Mrs. Grimes. Mauvais stares at the door for a long beat, then turns back to West with a mirthless smile.
MAUVAIS
For you, Monsieur, my wife’s entrance was a most fortunate reprieve; I will now demonstrate how close you were to a most violent death.
(to Le Cochon—a sharp command as he points)
The bench!
Rev. 7/25/66
Le Cochon whirls, his massive right leg whistled through the air—and the massive bench his foot meets literally disintegrates into flying splinters and fragments. Then he turns stolidly back to Mauvais.
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
Impressive, is it not, Monsieur? You see, when Cochon was a young man, he was indiscreet enough to lose his right leg in a train accident.
WEST
Don’t tell me; and when it comes time for him to be fitted with an artificial limb, he chose—
(Sonny Tufts)
—one made of iron?
MAUVAIS
Precisely.
(seating himself again)
A final word, Monsieur. You saw what happened to the bench; the time will come when I will say, “Monsieur Couteau!” and Cochon’s foot of doom will come whistling your way—
(a beat)
But that time is not yet; first we must see that you enjoy our island facilities to the fullest; the fresh air, the pleasant sun, the joyful little tasks that are waiting to be performed.
(a sardonic bow)
Till then, Monsieur.
He swivels around in his chair, the wall slides silently and smoothly shut and West and Le Cochon are once more alone in the grimy office littered with fragments and splinters of a bench that once was. Le Cochon reaches over and plucks at West’s tunic:
LE COCHON
Take it off.
WEST
(wryly)
Here we go again.
He unbuttons tunic, removes it and hands it to Le Cochon, who hands him back his old, frowsy, wrinkled tunic.
12. ON WEST
as he slips into tunic with a distasteful expression…
DISSOLVE TO:
13. EXT. ROAD UNDER CONSTRUCTION – BLAZING DAY
OVER the SOUNDS of CRUNCHING GRAVEL and the protesting SQUEALS of an ungreased axle, a massive stone roller approaches the CAMERA until it swallows up the entire frame, then CAMERA PANS to show the roller continuing past, on its way, and now we see that it is a road leveling device (see Fig. 37) that is being pushed along by four straining, freely perspiring prisoners… and now we also see West and a half dozen other prisoners bending their backs to the grueling task of carrying great blocks of stone from the side of the road and setting them into position on the road bed.
14. CLOSER ANGLE – FEATURING WEST
West looks even more work-stained and unkempt than before as we see him set a massive stone down onto the road, then speak very quietly to the PRISONER working on his left.
WEST
I’m looking for a man named Reed. Do you –
The PRISONER, an emaciated, leathery man simply gives a brief shake of his head and a warning glance, then moves on.
15. ANOTHER ANGLE ON WEST
as he moves back to the side of the road, picks up another rock and sidles up to another PRISONER who is shoveling gravel into a basket.
WEST
(softly)
Do you know a prisoner named –
The PRISONER, a big ugly fellow with uncut hair, brings his fingers to his lips in a quick gesture for silence, then clenches a fist in warning at West to keep his distance.
16. MEDIUM SHOT ON EMBANKMENT – GUARDS AND WATER BARREL
The guard on patrol raises a whistle to his lips and WHISTLES a sharp blast as another guard approaches, pushing a water barrel mounted on a cart.
Rev. 8/2/66
17. FULL SHOT
The prisoners move exhaustedly and line up in a single file beside the water cart, each fishing his own small, battered tin cup from his pocket. West falls in at the end of the line. One of the guards turns the barrel spigot on and each prisoner moves into place, filling his cup and walking off, gulping the precious fluid. The other guard keeps a tally of the number of men who have drunk. CAMERA ANGLES IN ON WEST and the man directly in front of him, a small, wiry little cockney called Lime. As the line moves slowly forward, West and Lime are shielded from the guards by the water cart. The big, ugly prisoner previously seen, having already filled his cup at the spigot, moves around the cart, grabs Lime by the neck and shoves him aside, taking his place at the spigot ahead of West…
… who sees that Lime is afraid of creating a disturbance to get his place back. West calmly takes the big ugly brute’s arm, twists it up behind him and flips him aside, landing him in the dirt. Then West beckons Lime back into place – and Lime steps in with a big smile.
18. ANOTHER ANGLE – BY SPIGOT
Lime gets his drink, then West does. The guard keeping tally raps on the barrel to signify the full count. The other guard raises his whistle and BLOWS two short blasts. The prisoners pocket their cups and return to their road building.
19. ANOTHER ANGLE ON WEST AND LIME
Lime and West return to the rock pile and both join in picking up a particularly large rock. As they totter with it to the road bed:
LIME
Thanks, myte… some of these ruddy blokes got a lot to learn about manners.
WEST
So I noticed.
LIME
If Oi c’n ever return the favor, just gimme the nod.
WEST
Maybe you can… Do you know a prisoner named Reed?
Lime thinks a moment as they continue to a hole in the road, into which they drop their rock. Then, as they pick up shovels and shovel gravel into the hole:
LIME
Don’t recall no such nyme. But formal ‘andles get lost in this ‘ole.
(beat; thoughtfully)
‘old everything—Yank, wasn’t it?
WEST
(eagerly)
That’s right.
20. FULL SHOT
Again, the CRUNCHING RATTLE and SQUEAL heralds this massive road leveler approaching on its way back; as they both step aside until it passes, then as they continue working:
LIME
I recall now.
(shakes head pityingly)
‘E got ‘auled off to the Pit.
WEST
What’s that?
LIME
‘Alf-way ‘ouse to ‘ell, that’s what.
(pause)
Yank dropped out of sight ‘bout two weeks ago. Anyone buried in the Pit that long—
(thumbs-down gesture)
—kindly omit flowers, as the sayin’ goes…
A massive hand shoves him sharply, sending him hurtling into the center of the road, where he stirs feebly, stunned.
21. OMIT
22. NEW ANGLE
… as West whirls to find Cochon nearby, arms akimbo, staring expressionlessly down at him.
MAUVAIS’ VOICE
Really, Monsieur Couteau, I’m afraid you’re rather an unsettling influence on our other guests.
West turns (and CAMERA ANGLES EVEN FURTHER) and we see Commandant Mauvais standing on the embankment, looking on serenely at the still stunned figure of Lime sprawled in the road…
… as he speaks the familiar CRUNCHING RATTLE and GREASE-STARVED SQUEAL is HEARD again, and the ponderously revolving stone drum comes into view, being blindly pushed by the four prisoners behind it.
Rev. 7/25/66
23. ANOTHER ANGLE
As West starts to go to Lime, and finds his progress blocked by Le Cochon who has moved his massive bulk into the way. During the following West speaks to Mauvais, but his eyes never leave Le Cochon’s.
WEST
Commandment, may I respectively request that Ironfoot here be ordered to step aside?
MAUVAIS
(placidly)
Request denied.
West whirls away from Le Cochon and raises a grim face to the immaculate figure of the commandant on the height of the embankment.
WEST
The men pushing the roller are traveling blind—you do realize that?
MAUVAIS
Quite…
During the following he watches avidly as the roller approaches the sprawled figure of Lime; he wipes the palm of his hands with a spotless handkerchief, after which he throws it away.
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
And perhaps that is why, despite all our precautions, that accidents continue to happen.
A lightning jackknife lunge and West hurls himself into the embankment, with Le Cochon scrambling after him. West extends both his work-stained hands toward the fearfully recoiling Mauvais.
WEST
For openers, tell your little playmate to stay where he is.
MAUVAIS
(his face working as he backs away)
Enough, Cochon…
West notes with grim satisfaction that Le Cochon (halfway up the embankment) halts blindly, instantly, like a giant clockwork figure.
WEST
Item number two: Order the roller stopped!
(as Mauvais hesitates)
Fast, before I soil you for all time with my filthy hands!
MAUVAIS
(instantly—in a choked voice)
Cochon—stop it!
Le Cochon leaps from his position on the embankment, hurls himself toward the massive roller almost upon Lime, and cuts loose with a tremendous kick at the great stone mass…
… and the roller is hurled back, sending the figures behind it catapulting in all directions.
24. ANOTHER ANGLE – WEST AND MAUVAIS
West drops his hands to his sides as Le Cochon returns, heaves himself into view and descends balefully upon him. Mauvais has unearthed another of his snowy handkerchiefs and is running it over the palms of his hands as he speaks.
Rev. 8/2/66
MAUVAIS
(smiling again)
Well, Monsieur Couteau, you had us all dancing to your tune00nbow let us see about paying the piper.
(to Le Cochon—as if ordering dinner)
I think we’ll start with twenty lashes for our knightly young friend—then, a prolonged stay in the pit, eh?
FAST DISSOLVE TO:
25. EXT. PRISON QUADRANGLE – DAY
CLOSE on the pit. Topped by a heavy grill that is locked into place, the pit extends a foot and a half above ground (see Fig. 39) and ten feet below ground…
… and into this scene Mauvais strides, halts, pressing a flower to his nose as two guards come into view, supporting between them the semi-conscious figure of West. Now Le Cochon comes into view, unlocks the massive padlock, lifts up the hinged grating…
… and at a nod from Mauvais, West is lifted over the pit opening, partially lowered, then dropped.
26. INT. THE PIT – DAY
As West plummets to the ground and crumples in a heap. TWO OTHER RAGGED, UNSHAVEN FIGURES shrink back to avoid being struck—one, spare, with a blond beard, goes to West and gently lifts him into a sitting position as we HEAR the grill CLANGING BACK INTO POSITION and the GRATE OF THE KEY IN THE LOCK.
27. EXT. PIT – DAY
Mauvais bends over and speaks through the bars of the grill.
MAUVAIS
Have a pleasant stay, Monsieur Couteau—
(glancing up at sky)
—fair weather, or foul.
Rev. 7/28/66
The point of Mauvais comment on the weather is made clear when there is a sudden CLAP OF THUNDER and almost immediately a few drops of rain begin pattering through the grill into the pit…
… as West opens his eyes, stares dully at the blond man cradling his head, we see West’s face twitch into a painful smile.
WEST
Vincent Reed, I believe.
BLOND MAN
(a surprised beat)
Why, yes—who are you?
WEST
I’ve been looking for you; looking—and looking—and…
West slumps down as he lapses back into unconsciousness—just as the full fury of the storm hits. Torrents of rain come pelting down, almost obscuring Reed, huddling in a corner, covering West as best we can—as we
FADE OUT:
END OF ACT ONE
CBS-TV
THE WILD WILD WEST
“THE NIGHT OF THE BOTTOMLESS PIT”
by
Ken Kolb
FINAL DRAFT
#0312
AUGUST 2 1966
THE WILD WILD WEST
“THE NIGHT OF THE BOTTOMLESS PIT”
EXECUTIVE PRODUCER
MICHAEL GARRISON
PRODUCER
BRUCE LANSBURY
ASSOCIATE PRODUCER
LEONARD KATZMAN
STORY CONSULTANT
HENRY SHARP
WRITTEN BY
KEN KOLB
SETS:
EXT. DOCKSIDE
EXT. PRISON QUADRANGLE
INT. ADMINISTRATION BUILDING CORRIDOR
INT. COMMANDANT’S OUTER OFFICE
EXT. ROAD
INT. THE PIT
INT. ‘CHAMBER OF TOGETHERNESS’
INT. SECRET CORRIDOR
INT. CAMILLE’S BEDROOM
EXT. JUNGLE
INT. TRAIN
EXT. NATIVE QUARTER
INT. NATIVE CURIO SHOP
CAST
JAMES WEST – ROBERT CONRAD
ARTEMUS GORDON – ROSS MARTIN
GUSTAVE MAUVAIS
LE COCHON
HENRI COUTEAU
GUARD
GUARD A
GUARD B
CAMILLE MAUVAIS
LIME
VINCENT REED
LE FOU
ORIENTAL
SENEGALESE
NATIVE BOY
MRS. GRIMES
SILENT:
GUARDS
PRISONERS
NATIVE WOMAN
GENTLEMAN
BLIND BEGGARMAN
TEASER
FADE IN:
1. On a far-off SHOT of an island. HOLD, the PULL BACK until a large sign supported on a standard comes into focus; the sign reads (duplicated in French and English) “EMBARKATION—DEVIL’S ISLAND”…
… CAMERA ANGLES to show that we have been viewing Devil’s Island from the vantage point of:
2. EXT. DOCKSIDE SCENE – NIGHT
Palm trees, silhouetted against the night sky form the background of a deserted dock area, with a couple of corrugated iron shacks nearby, a litter of barrels, crates, piles of rope, etc. CAMERA MOVES to show a long boat moored to the dock, bobbing in the swell, and now we see lolling at his ease in the stern, a GUARD, unshaven, the stand-up collar of his khaki tunic unbuttoned, mat matching the equally unkempt condition of the rest of his uniform. As we HOLD on guard we HEAR, FAINTLY at first, then GROWING LOUDER, PLEASANT TINKLING, JANGLING SOUNDS: CAMERA ANGLES…
3. ANOTHER ANGLE
… to show a group of SIX PRISONERS approaching the dock, marching in ragged unison, with one equally unkempt guard sheepdogging them, a rifle in his hands. The TINKLING, JANGLING sounds proceed from the chain manacles that bind the prisoner’s wrists and ankles. As we watch, one of the prisoners, slips, falls, then scrambles to his feet again.
4. ANOTHER ANGLE – AT DOCK
as Guard #1 steps from boat to dock to wave an indolent greeting to Guard #2 who comes up to him, yawning. He produces a sheet of paper from an inside pocket and hands it to his colleague. As Guard #1, bored, obviously going through the motions of an old, dull routine, starts checking names on the list he has been handed against the list of his own…
Rev. 7/28/66
… CAMERA LEAVES the guards and moves to the nearby group of prisoners who have halted and are waiting at the edge of the dock. CAMERA examines each one briefly, then moves on, until it arrives at the last—an ATTRACTIVE, SENSITIVE-LOOKING MAN, unlike all the others. (He is HENRI COUTEAU). CAMERA HOLDS on Couteau, then moves down the length of his body, coming to rest at his ankle, from which position we can see the ocean’s water lapping against the piling of the low dock…
… and now we see a pair of manacles hands rising out of the water; one hand grasps the edge of the dock, the other reaches up, grab’s Couteau’s trouser leg and yanks—and, with a STARTLING CRY, Couteau topples over and plunges into the water.
5. ANOTHER ANGLE
Both guards are galvanized into furious activity; one clubs the startled prisoners away from the dock from which Couteau plunged, the other trains his rifle on the water…
… then whips the gun into an aiming position as Couteau suddenly bobs to the surface, his manacled hands flailing in the air as he cries:
COUTEAU
Help!
The guard (reluctantly, we can see) stays his rifle finger at the last moment, puts his gun down, extends a hand and hauls Couteau onto the dock—then suddenly brings his rifle butt down hard, sending the dripping figure slamming to the ground.
GUARD
You like to swim, eh?
COUTEAU
(muffled)
I slipped.
GUARD
Contrive not to slip again, if you know what is good for you!
He yanks Couteau roughly to his feet and walks away. CAMERA MOVES IN to a CLOSE SHOT of Couteau, running a hand through his hair, only now we see that it is no longer Couteau—it is JAMES WEST, a small, guarded smile of triumph curving his lips.
6. ANOTHER ANGLE
showing the line of prisoners being herded into the long boat, with the dripping figure of West bringing up the rear. The prisoners pick up oars and start pulling away from the dock, the guards seated at stern and prow, rifles at the ready. As boat moves out of view, CAMERA ANGLES…
… then MOVES DOWN and TRAVELS across the length of the dock – until it stops and MOVES IN to a…
7. CLOSE SHOT – UNDER THE DOCK
of two men, only their heads bobbing above the water as they cling to pilings; one, we see is ARTEMUS (suitably dressed for the occasion in what looks to be a skindivers suit) and, as he removes his hand that has been cupped over the other’s mouth (obviously to forestall any startled outcry) we see that the other is the real Henri Couteau—eyes wide with bewilderment as he stares off after the (unseen) departing longboat.
ARTEMUS
Keep it nice and low, Monsieur Couteau.
COUTEAU
But—I don’t understand!
(pointing off at boat)
He’s allowing them to transport him to Devil’s Island?
ARTEMUS
Yes. So far, so good.
COUTEAU
But why? Why would he want to spend twenty years in that hell?
ARTEMUS
(shrugging)
Let’s call it a whim, shall we?
FADE OUT
END TEASER
Rev. 8/2/66
FADE IN:
8. EXT. PRISON QUADRANGLE – DAY
CAMERA MOVES over the area, past work parties of prisoners being herded along by the usual unkempt guards—past the administration building, pat the guard’s barracks, the cell block, the massive gates set in the high wall—during which CREDITS and TITLES will be show…
… then on to a LINE OF PRISONERS, among whom we see West; he, like all the others is staring off, fascinatedly—and CAMERA ANGLES, then moves up a gallows-like platform to show the apparatus that all are staring at…
8A. CLOSE SHOT – THE GILLOTINE
A GUARD is making final adjustments to the release mechanism—then as we watch, he pulls the release cord and the gleaming, slant-edged blade flashes down with a THUNK! and a decapitated head rolls into the wicker tray that has been set up to receive it…
… only now, as CAMERA MOVES IN, we see that the decapitated head is that of a manikin. Obviously, this is just a dry run.
8B. BACK TO WEST AND OTHER PRISONERS
as another GUARD appears and roughly shoves the line into movement, and now we see that the line of prisoners is moving past a checkpoint where two guards stand. Guard A, checking off names on a clipboard—Guard B unlocking manacles and tossing them on a pile of other manacles. As a freshly de-manacled PRISONER is waved off and limps out of view, ANOTHER PRISONER steps into place at the checkpoint. Guard A roughly yanks at the man’s dogtag, glances at it, then:
GUARD A
Emile Krulak
(during the following, Guard A is unlocking and removing manacles from the prisoner’s wrists and ankles)
GUARD B
(checking off name)
Emile Krulak; to the road gang.
(as prisoner starts to limp away)
Now, then, look alive;
The man limps hastily out of view.
8C. INT. CAMILLE’S BEDROOM – DAY
CLOSE ON MRS. GRIMES, an Elsa Lanchester type Englishwoman of mature years, pins in her mouth, working away on the hem of a garment, as CAMERA PULLS BACK… then TRAVELS UP…
… and we see that the hem is part of an elegant gown being fitted to CAMILLE, an almost over-ripe, too-voluptuous young lady of 25, who is seen to be standing on a stool, looking with sulky, unenthusiastic expression at her reflection in a large mirror nearby. She turns and glances casually out, through shuttered window close at hand, and we see her react, obviously interested…
. HER POVWest, standing in the checkpoint line, gazing off at the guillotine.
8E. BACK TO CAMILLE
still staring out of the window—but no longer wearing a sulky, unenthusiastic expression—instead, her lips part and an almost dreamy smile animates her as she watches West…
… and it is that this time that Mrs. Grimes finishes here pinning, stands up with a primly satisfied expression, then becomes aware that Camille’s attention is very much taken. She follows Camille’s eyes and joins her in staring out of the window at:
8F. POV – WEST
as he steps into the checkpoint position, where Guard A yanks his dogtag into a readable position.
GUARD A
Henry Couteau
He bends to unlock and remove West’s ankle manacles as Guard B drones on boredly, checking off name on list.
GUARD B
Henry Couteau; to the –
(reacting)
— the Commandant!
(looks West over incredulously)
What would the commandant want with vermin like you?
WEST
(shrugging)
To join him in a cup of mint tea and a watercress sandwich, I suppose…
The two guards exchange swift, outraged glances at West’s lighthearted temerity, then (with a deftness and dispatch that indicates that they have done this many time before) Guard A pins West’s arms from behind while Guard B draws back his massive arm preparatory to smashing his fist into West’s face.
WEST (CONT'D)
… and to make my usual undercover report on the inefficiency of the prison personnel!
Guard B’s arm freezes in mid-air as he stares uncertainly at West—this unkempt prisoner is just tempting fate with his suicidal sense of humor, of course—and yet, as West’s cold, unflinching eyes bore into his, the guard falters and drops his arm, laughing weakly as if the whole thing was just a joke. To Guard A, still pinning West’s arms from behind:
GUARD B
(indignantly)
Alors, mutton-brain, release the man!
(to West—ingratiatingly)
I, myself, will conduct you to the Commandant.
WEST
(curtly)
That’s more like it.
(to Guard A—extending his manacled hands)
You: look alive!
GUARD A
(hurriedly unlocking manacles)
At once, Monsieur!
West takes his unlocked manacles, tosses them contemptuously to the ground, then turns with studied nonchalance and strolls after Guard B as he starts leading the way toward the administration building.
8G. BACK TO CAMILLE
as she turns away from the window, wearing her dreamy expression—then turns her attention to her reflection in the mirror—considers it, then impulsively rips off a layer of lace on the bodice; her neckline is now a plunging neckline, and from her expression Camille approves. On Mrs. Grimes’ shocked expression,
FLIP TO:
10. INT. COMMANDANT’S OUTER OFFICE – DAY
CLOSE, on doorway as a guard swings door open and West steps through the doorway and looks around distastefully at the grimy, empty office that is now seen—barred windows, a splintered desk, a bench and a couple of chairs…
… and, as the opened door is swung shut by the admitting guard, we also see disclosed a formidably huge bulky guard, in the room, arms akimbo, staring down at West. (He is LE COCHON.) West turns and reacts appropriately at the sight of the massive figure at his elbow.
WEST
(pins on an affable smile)
How do you do, Commandant. Nice place you have here.
LE COCHON
(plucking at West’s tunic)
Take it off.
West looks at him, puzzled, then, with a speed spectacular in one so huge, Le Cochon’s ham-like hand flashes out, grabs West’s tunic and rips it right of his back in one irresistible lunge; West, bare to the waist, instinctively goes into a fighter’s crouch, hands balled into fists—but Le Cochon disregards him, picks another tunic from the nearby desk and tosses it to West.
LE COCHON (CONT'D)
Get into that.
Now we see that the tunic West has been tossed is newly laundered, immaculate. West relaxes as he sniffs happily at it, then:
WEST
Thanks, Commandant, it’s a definite improvement.
(as he buttons tunic)
Now how about some hot water, soap, a razor and…
West never finishes the sentence as another of Le Cochon’s ham-like hands flashes out, seizes West’s shoulder and swivels him around with tooth-rattling violence, forcing him to face the one completely blank wall in the office…
… which silently, smoothly slides open as we watch—to disclose an immaculate, sumptuously furnished office extending beyond; velour drapes framing the windows, thick rugs gracing the floor, a gild and ivory desk fit for a Maharaja—and seated at the elegant desk, his back turned to us, a starchy white-uniformed, lean figure meets our eyes; we HOLD for a long beat on this…
… then the lean-, white-uniformed figure swivels around in his chair and we are looking at a thin-faced embodiment of evil in the person of GUSTAVE MAUVAISE—BUT note the operative clause that describes Gustave Mauvais—it is “fastidiousness”; his evil is inescapably tied in with a compulsive cleanliness—with a horror of dirt of any kind that borders on the psychotic, as we shall see.
MAUVAIS
(thoughtfully surveying West)
Odd, I imagined you’d be older-looking, Monsieur Couteau.
WEST
(shrugging apologetically)
Sorry to disappoint you. Perhaps in time…
MAUVAIS
Yes, of course—time; we have great quantities of that around here.
From an atomizer he squirts eau de cologne into his hands and washes hands sensuously with it, during the following:
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
… And in the fullness of time, aided by the celebrated way our local sun transforms a fresh, youthful face like yours into a parchment covered death-head…
Now he lovingly pats his hands dry with a snowy white handkerchief which, when he is through, he will toss into a wastebasket.
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
… yes, you’ll mature properly before very long, Monsieur.
(a small, sardonic bow)
But forgive my lapse of manners—
(a gesture at Le Cochon)
This is Cochon, my social director. And I—I am Gustave Mauvais, Commandant of our little retreat.
WEST
(bowing elaborately in turn)
I’ve heard both of you mentioned before.
MAUVAIS
(to Le Cochon, standing stolidly nearby)
You hear? We are not entirely lost in the mists of anonymity —
(back to West)
You are most welcome, Monsieur Couteau; our usual clients arrive at our recreational center for various reasons; murder most foul, for instance, in any of the thousand and one way that spicy dish can be served up…
Mauvais goes into an elaborate routine of fitting a cigarette into an amber holder as he speaks. During the following, he will light and puff at it, and the inordinate care with which he disposes of the cigarette ash that accumulates will point up again his all-consuming aversion to dirt of any kind.
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
Then there’s arson—embezzlement, if it’s on a grand enough scale—occasionally even a soupcon of treason to enliven the dreary, workaday round—
(his eyes glitter during the following)
—but your offense, Monsieur—ah, yours was indeed a monstrous fall from grace!
WEST
(obviously stalling—doesn’t really know)
Oh, it wasn’t as bad as all that.
Rev. 7/28/66
MAUVAIS
You don't think so, eh?
He takes a pair of spotlessly white gloves and slips them on before picking up a sheet of paper and reading aloud from it.
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
“France’s Crown of Thorns—Devil’s Island! Beginning a sensational expose by the celebrated journalist Henri Couteau…”
(lifts his glittering smile to West)
You went so far as to argue that the colony be abolished, and to propose a national trial for that arch-villain, Gustave Mauvais…
WEST
(shrugging)
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
MAUVAIS
… instead of which you found yourself on trial for impugning the honor of our nation; the verdict was never in doubt.
WEST
All I could do was to plead youthful high spirits.
(moving toward Mauvais)
May I see the rest of the article, Comm…
The effect on Mauvais is electric; he recoils in horror before West’s outstretched hand and the next moment West is sent reeling by a roundhouse blow from Le Cochon…
Rev. 8/2/66
11. ANOTHER ANGLE
West slowly rises to his feet, shaking his head to clear it. Le Cochon, deadpan as ever, is standing over him, his massive hands knotted into fists…
… and Mauvais has risen from his desk and is agitatedly rubbing his hands with another snowy handkerchief, which he discards with the most evident distaste into a wastebasket.
MAUVAIS
I hope the moral of this little episode has not been lost on you, Monsieur—never reach out your filthy hand to me; understand?
WEST
I’m beginning to. As for your charming friend, Cochon…
West’s swing is a blurred arc as he whirls and plants a smashing right to Le Cochon’s jaw…
… and reacts amazedly to see that Le Cochon hardly blinks at the jarring impact; an incredulous beat then West follows it up with an equally smashing left that thuds into Le Cochon’s middle—with equally unsensational results.
MAUVAIS’ VOICE
Cochon—no!
West turns to find Mauvais lifting a peremptory finger at Cochon, who is gathering himself for a lunge at West; at Mauvais’ command, Le Cochon relaxes…
… and now for the first time we see that a door in the back of Mauvais’ office has opened—and framed in the doorway is Camille, whose eyes stray almost immediately in an intent stare at West. Mauvais looks sardonically from her to West as she says:
CAMILLE
Am I interrupting, Gustave?
MAUVAIS
Of course not, my dear. Come in and have a better look at the young man.
CAMILLE
(tearing her eyes away with effort)
What? What young man? I just stopped by to ask for your opinion.
She beckons through the doorway and Mrs. Grimes enters, clutching several gowns.
CAMILLE (CONT'D)
My gown for the reception—gold lamé or the sequins?
MAUVAIS
(a cursory glance at the bolts)
They’re both very charming, my dear; whichever you…
He stops, aware that Camille’s lovely eyes have strayed to West again and are measuring him intently.
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
Fine featured, hard muscled, with engaging tousled hair just made to run your hands through, eh?
CAMILLE
(sullenly)
I don't know what you’re talking about.
MAUVAIS
But forgive me, my dear Camille, may I present our latest guest, Monsieur Couteau?
(to West)
My devoted wife.
West bows; Camille ignores him, flounces to the door, where she pauses, turning indignant eyes to Mauvais.
CAMILLE
I certainly didn’t mean to interrupt!
And she exits, followed by Mrs. Grimes. Mauvais stares at the door for a long beat, then turns back to West with a mirthless smile.
MAUVAIS
For you, Monsieur, my wife’s entrance was a most fortunate reprieve; I will now demonstrate how close you were to a most violent death.
(to Le Cochon—a sharp command as he points)
The bench!
Rev. 7/25/66
Le Cochon whirls, his massive right leg whistled through the air—and the massive bench his foot meets literally disintegrates into flying splinters and fragments. Then he turns stolidly back to Mauvais.
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
Impressive, is it not, Monsieur? You see, when Cochon was a young man, he was indiscreet enough to lose his right leg in a train accident.
WEST
Don’t tell me; and when it comes time for him to be fitted with an artificial limb, he chose—
(Sonny Tufts)
—one made of iron?
MAUVAIS
Precisely.
(seating himself again)
A final word, Monsieur. You saw what happened to the bench; the time will come when I will say, “Monsieur Couteau!” and Cochon’s foot of doom will come whistling your way—
(a beat)
But that time is not yet; first we must see that you enjoy our island facilities to the fullest; the fresh air, the pleasant sun, the joyful little tasks that are waiting to be performed.
(a sardonic bow)
Till then, Monsieur.
He swivels around in his chair, the wall slides silently and smoothly shut and West and Le Cochon are once more alone in the grimy office littered with fragments and splinters of a bench that once was. Le Cochon reaches over and plucks at West’s tunic:
LE COCHON
Take it off.
WEST
(wryly)
Here we go again.
He unbuttons tunic, removes it and hands it to Le Cochon, who hands him back his old, frowsy, wrinkled tunic.
12. ON WEST
as he slips into tunic with a distasteful expression…
DISSOLVE TO:
13. EXT. ROAD UNDER CONSTRUCTION – BLAZING DAY
OVER the SOUNDS of CRUNCHING GRAVEL and the protesting SQUEALS of an ungreased axle, a massive stone roller approaches the CAMERA until it swallows up the entire frame, then CAMERA PANS to show the roller continuing past, on its way, and now we see that it is a road leveling device (see Fig. 37) that is being pushed along by four straining, freely perspiring prisoners… and now we also see West and a half dozen other prisoners bending their backs to the grueling task of carrying great blocks of stone from the side of the road and setting them into position on the road bed.
14. CLOSER ANGLE – FEATURING WEST
West looks even more work-stained and unkempt than before as we see him set a massive stone down onto the road, then speak very quietly to the PRISONER working on his left.
WEST
I’m looking for a man named Reed. Do you –
The PRISONER, an emaciated, leathery man simply gives a brief shake of his head and a warning glance, then moves on.
15. ANOTHER ANGLE ON WEST
as he moves back to the side of the road, picks up another rock and sidles up to another PRISONER who is shoveling gravel into a basket.
WEST
(softly)
Do you know a prisoner named –
The PRISONER, a big ugly fellow with uncut hair, brings his fingers to his lips in a quick gesture for silence, then clenches a fist in warning at West to keep his distance.
16. MEDIUM SHOT ON EMBANKMENT – GUARDS AND WATER BARREL
The guard on patrol raises a whistle to his lips and WHISTLES a sharp blast as another guard approaches, pushing a water barrel mounted on a cart.
Rev. 8/2/66
17. FULL SHOT
The prisoners move exhaustedly and line up in a single file beside the water cart, each fishing his own small, battered tin cup from his pocket. West falls in at the end of the line. One of the guards turns the barrel spigot on and each prisoner moves into place, filling his cup and walking off, gulping the precious fluid. The other guard keeps a tally of the number of men who have drunk. CAMERA ANGLES IN ON WEST and the man directly in front of him, a small, wiry little cockney called Lime. As the line moves slowly forward, West and Lime are shielded from the guards by the water cart. The big, ugly prisoner previously seen, having already filled his cup at the spigot, moves around the cart, grabs Lime by the neck and shoves him aside, taking his place at the spigot ahead of West…
… who sees that Lime is afraid of creating a disturbance to get his place back. West calmly takes the big ugly brute’s arm, twists it up behind him and flips him aside, landing him in the dirt. Then West beckons Lime back into place – and Lime steps in with a big smile.
18. ANOTHER ANGLE – BY SPIGOT
Lime gets his drink, then West does. The guard keeping tally raps on the barrel to signify the full count. The other guard raises his whistle and BLOWS two short blasts. The prisoners pocket their cups and return to their road building.
19. ANOTHER ANGLE ON WEST AND LIME
Lime and West return to the rock pile and both join in picking up a particularly large rock. As they totter with it to the road bed:
LIME
Thanks, myte… some of these ruddy blokes got a lot to learn about manners.
WEST
So I noticed.
LIME
If Oi c’n ever return the favor, just gimme the nod.
WEST
Maybe you can… Do you know a prisoner named Reed?
Lime thinks a moment as they continue to a hole in the road, into which they drop their rock. Then, as they pick up shovels and shovel gravel into the hole:
LIME
Don’t recall no such nyme. But formal ‘andles get lost in this ‘ole.
(beat; thoughtfully)
‘old everything—Yank, wasn’t it?
WEST
(eagerly)
That’s right.
20. FULL SHOT
Again, the CRUNCHING RATTLE and SQUEAL heralds this massive road leveler approaching on its way back; as they both step aside until it passes, then as they continue working:
LIME
I recall now.
(shakes head pityingly)
‘E got ‘auled off to the Pit.
WEST
What’s that?
LIME
‘Alf-way ‘ouse to ‘ell, that’s what.
(pause)
Yank dropped out of sight ‘bout two weeks ago. Anyone buried in the Pit that long—
(thumbs-down gesture)
—kindly omit flowers, as the sayin’ goes…
A massive hand shoves him sharply, sending him hurtling into the center of the road, where he stirs feebly, stunned.
21. OMIT
22. NEW ANGLE
… as West whirls to find Cochon nearby, arms akimbo, staring expressionlessly down at him.
MAUVAIS’ VOICE
Really, Monsieur Couteau, I’m afraid you’re rather an unsettling influence on our other guests.
West turns (and CAMERA ANGLES EVEN FURTHER) and we see Commandant Mauvais standing on the embankment, looking on serenely at the still stunned figure of Lime sprawled in the road…
… as he speaks the familiar CRUNCHING RATTLE and GREASE-STARVED SQUEAL is HEARD again, and the ponderously revolving stone drum comes into view, being blindly pushed by the four prisoners behind it.
Rev. 7/25/66
23. ANOTHER ANGLE
As West starts to go to Lime, and finds his progress blocked by Le Cochon who has moved his massive bulk into the way. During the following West speaks to Mauvais, but his eyes never leave Le Cochon’s.
WEST
Commandment, may I respectively request that Ironfoot here be ordered to step aside?
MAUVAIS
(placidly)
Request denied.
West whirls away from Le Cochon and raises a grim face to the immaculate figure of the commandant on the height of the embankment.
WEST
The men pushing the roller are traveling blind—you do realize that?
MAUVAIS
Quite…
During the following he watches avidly as the roller approaches the sprawled figure of Lime; he wipes the palm of his hands with a spotless handkerchief, after which he throws it away.
MAUVAIS (CONT'D)
And perhaps that is why, despite all our precautions, that accidents continue to happen.
A lightning jackknife lunge and West hurls himself into the embankment, with Le Cochon scrambling after him. West extends both his work-stained hands toward the fearfully recoiling Mauvais.
WEST
For openers, tell your little playmate to stay where he is.
MAUVAIS
(his face working as he backs away)
Enough, Cochon…
West notes with grim satisfaction that Le Cochon (halfway up the embankment) halts blindly, instantly, like a giant clockwork figure.
WEST
Item number two: Order the roller stopped!
(as Mauvais hesitates)
Fast, before I soil you for all time with my filthy hands!
MAUVAIS
(instantly—in a choked voice)
Cochon—stop it!
Le Cochon leaps from his position on the embankment, hurls himself toward the massive roller almost upon Lime, and cuts loose with a tremendous kick at the great stone mass…
… and the roller is hurled back, sending the figures behind it catapulting in all directions.
24. ANOTHER ANGLE – WEST AND MAUVAIS
West drops his hands to his sides as Le Cochon returns, heaves himself into view and descends balefully upon him. Mauvais has unearthed another of his snowy handkerchiefs and is running it over the palms of his hands as he speaks.
Rev. 8/2/66
MAUVAIS
(smiling again)
Well, Monsieur Couteau, you had us all dancing to your tune00nbow let us see about paying the piper.
(to Le Cochon—as if ordering dinner)
I think we’ll start with twenty lashes for our knightly young friend—then, a prolonged stay in the pit, eh?
FAST DISSOLVE TO:
25. EXT. PRISON QUADRANGLE – DAY
CLOSE on the pit. Topped by a heavy grill that is locked into place, the pit extends a foot and a half above ground (see Fig. 39) and ten feet below ground…
… and into this scene Mauvais strides, halts, pressing a flower to his nose as two guards come into view, supporting between them the semi-conscious figure of West. Now Le Cochon comes into view, unlocks the massive padlock, lifts up the hinged grating…
… and at a nod from Mauvais, West is lifted over the pit opening, partially lowered, then dropped.
26. INT. THE PIT – DAY
As West plummets to the ground and crumples in a heap. TWO OTHER RAGGED, UNSHAVEN FIGURES shrink back to avoid being struck—one, spare, with a blond beard, goes to West and gently lifts him into a sitting position as we HEAR the grill CLANGING BACK INTO POSITION and the GRATE OF THE KEY IN THE LOCK.
27. EXT. PIT – DAY
Mauvais bends over and speaks through the bars of the grill.
MAUVAIS
Have a pleasant stay, Monsieur Couteau—
(glancing up at sky)
—fair weather, or foul.
Rev. 7/28/66
The point of Mauvais comment on the weather is made clear when there is a sudden CLAP OF THUNDER and almost immediately a few drops of rain begin pattering through the grill into the pit…
… as West opens his eyes, stares dully at the blond man cradling his head, we see West’s face twitch into a painful smile.
WEST
Vincent Reed, I believe.
BLOND MAN
(a surprised beat)
Why, yes—who are you?
WEST
I’ve been looking for you; looking—and looking—and…
West slumps down as he lapses back into unconsciousness—just as the full fury of the storm hits. Torrents of rain come pelting down, almost obscuring Reed, huddling in a corner, covering West as best we can—as we
FADE OUT:
END OF ACT ONE