Woman With A Camera
EXT. NORTHERN HEMISPHERE SKY - NIGHT
Like a celestial wave, ribbons of light roll through the night sky...
The AURORA BOREALIS.
GLOWING METEOR DUST falls from the atmosphere and onto...
EXT. DELANEY FARM
...an empty field like a glittering carpet of jewels.
METAL CHRISTMAS TREE ORNAMENTS decorate the ASPEN and ELM TREES bordering the periphery of the field. Sporadic jolts of electrical current leap from ornament to ornament, tree to tree.
EXT. ROCKY MOUNTAINS - DAY
DAWN. A four-foot high STATIONARY CAMERA mounted on it's own RAIL CAR. A PHOTOGRAPHER works at the back of the camera, underneath the DARK CLOTH.
SET IT OFF!
A 500-foot line of POWDER runs parallel to a TRAIN on a track. The powder IGNITES!
Touristy, garishishly hand-painted STILL PHOTOGRAPH of the GRAND TETONS of Wyoming.
EXT. GREAT PLAINS
Another 500-foot line of powder ignites.
Another touristy, hand-painted Still photograph of the MISSOURI RIVER.
EXT. DELANEY FARM
Crystalline, quartz THUNDEREGGS flash on the slopes of a horse-shoe-shaped ridge which surrounds an abnormally lush valley. The 1000-acre parcel yields exotic FLORA and stands in stark contrast to the adjoining, decimated county lands.
A MAN pulls a RICKSHAW, with a PASSENGER, on a twisty road which runs through the landscape. Rugged redhead, LIAM KIRKPATRICK (45)puffs like a steam engine as he draws the carriage along the heavily grooved road.
EXT. ANOTHER AREA OF DELANEY FARM
A scratchy record of an IRISH REEL plays across opulent cropfields.
A lone smack of LIGHTENING races across the sky and ORIENTAL POPPIES answer the display with flashes of their own.
Electric currents jump from one ornament to the next as the morning sky turns gloomy. Sprinkles of rain plop into LABYRINTHIAN STREAMS supplying irrigation to the fields.
In the middle of a newly-plowed field, lanky middle-ager, JOHN DELANEY dances and flays his arms in ritualistic celebration. He stomps down upturned lumps of soil, oblivious to Liam and by-the-book executive, DEVIN HAFFNER (35), who stand at the edge of the field.
New type of fertilizer?
Liam laughs politely. He slips on a metal head restraint which looks like a BRANKS DEVICE, but without the mouth piece.
John's a homeopath.
They walk towards the dancing Delaney.
Prefers plants over women,
He believes humans can influence
plants and that, in turn, a
plant can affect the human
John sees them, stops his ritual, and walks towards the edge of the field.
I've seen him place a daffodil
petal on his tongue and not
only tell you what county it
came from, but even through
who's garden gate it had passed.
John rubs his badly contracted hands.
Hands giving you trouble?
(with an Irish accent)
Aye, when company's unexpected.
You come up to the house, I've
some ointment which may hurt,
I mean, help.
Devin cuts off the neighbourly exchange by forcing his 'greeting' hand towards John.
John Delaney, Devin Haffner.
(to Devin) This property has
been in the Delaney family
since the Civil War.
Sir, it's a pleasure. Your farm
really is quite extraordinary.
Such lush land in the middle of
granite and limestone. Indeed,
it seems to be the ONLY flour-
ishing parcel in the county.
Ta. (to Liam) What brings you?
Mr. Haffner thinks he may be able
to bring a high-speed rail through
Sweetwater. It would move coal
four days faster from Powder Horn
to the east.
AYE...aye, and did the coal express
the desire to arrive in Boston
four days sooner?
Devin laughs, but Liam recognizes the sarcasm.
Devin cuts him off.
Mr. Delaney, DE & W would like
to make you a very generous
John interupts to address Liam.
The SAME RAIL which used up
Sweetwater's 10,000 year coal
supply in half a century?
Liam twists the screws on the head device. He cringes in pain.
John, everyone's goal is to
see our town prosper again.
Sweetwater needs long-range,
With improved rail service,
this town would see vast econ-
omic benefits. You, of course,
would be nicely compensated.
Liam is slightly embarrassed as John reaches for a HOE. Devin notices.
You do realize that if the gov-
ernment believes your parcel is
critical for interstate trades
transportation, then you WILL
receive what they think your land
is worth. DE & W will end up
with the land either way.
John can barely hold the hoe above his head, but swipes it at Devin. Devin throws his arms up in mock surrender.
A CRACK OF THUNDER.
If I want a rail through, I
will get it. I'm the 'D' in
DE & W, and that makes me a
very persuasive lobbiest.
Devin trots away as Liam, reluctantly, follows. John yells after them.
HELL WILL FREEZE OVER BEFORE
Devin turns around as the skies burst with dime-sized HAIL. The ice rocks clank as they hit Liam's head restraint.
Well, Mr. Delaney, when it does,
you can bet Mephistopheles will
be enjoying a cozy fire provided
by coal from a DE & W line.
INT. RUN-DOWN CHURCH
A FIRE flickers in a fireplace as the storm rages outside. A MAN holds a CHALICE before the flames. Steam rises from the cup as a grotesque, PURPLE MOUTH drinks from it. GOLD FLAKES cover the tongue as the Purple Mouth speaks.
I'll be bowling tonight.
QUASIFIELD (25) shuffles, like a man of 80, to a SIDEBOARD. He picks up a mirror, but in place of the reflective plate there is an ARTIST'S TABLET.
He walks towards the hearth, then holds the 'mirror' up. He flickers through the pages of the 'flipbook'. IMAGES of a young, beautiful man flash through a series of self-approving gestures.
Quasifield peeks over the top of the pseudo-mirror and sees the primping MONSIGNOR (2000) in all his hideous, Nosferatu glory. He wears the CROWNS OF UPPER AND LOWER EGYPT.
(not really surprised)
Ah, Monsignor, those are the
crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt.
The Monsignor whips an ornately decorated CHUSABLE around his shoulder.
IN TIME Quasifield, in time.
Electrical interference mars the radio broadcast of jazz music. In an ornately decorated penthouse, a GROUP OF MEN, holding MACHINE GUNS, watch AL CAPONE humiliate a BLOODIED MAN on his knees.
Light shines through a PINHOLE and projects an inverted image of Capone, his minions, and his victim onto a vertical surface.
A CAMERA OBSCURA.
A SET OF EYES.
World-worn PLEIADES ISABELLA ETOR (35) has seen many things, some good, some bad, and a small, yet dense, clouding over her right eye suggests she's witnessed even worse.
To scandal, and getting
it on film. Ready to roll?
ANGLE-SILHOUETTE of a woman stuffed into a small, dark space. SOPHIE DELACROIX (65) cranks a handle on a CAMERA, it clatters for a few seconds, then stops.
(with a French accent)
Alas, we are all simply
silver halides radiating on
a celluloid stage.
A spotlight falls upon the face of HELLO BAKER (25). She takes a swig from a silver FLASK. A BOWLER HAT falls off her head as she invokes the name of an idol.
She produces a camera from thin air, then places the lens through a...
The lens pops out of the pupil. A second lens pushes through a second, paper-mache eye.
A ray of light sits on the face of DZIGA KAUFMAN (40). Alot of living has worn away most of this 'New Faces' competition winner's natural grace. He speaks and it sounds like it originates from the bottom of a well.
Dirt on Capone, how fockin'original.
Ze only true, original action
was ze Big Bang. Everything
since zhen has been ze re-mixing
of it's molecules.
You would know, Citizen Zero,
being around SINCE the begin-
ning of time an everythin'.
Teenager BOING-BOING FITZGERALD pulls back from two 'spyholes'. Light pours through and paints her young face in high contrast.
You still here, Dziga? Thought
you went down with the Luisitania.
Givin' me a hard-on, Boing-Boing.
Your muse gets any younger and
you'll be screwing a strand of
DNA in a G-string.
I haven't worn g-strings since
the epic chafing of 1925.
A verbal BRAWL. Pleiades has heard it all before.
I should have taken the hint
from the Flaherty fiasco. I
COULD be lying on a beach in
Hello stops her tirade long enough to respond.
OH-NO, sister. Don't be blaming
me for not marking on mineral.
'Nanook of the North' came
pretty damn close to being,
'Nanook of an ICE SHEET
drifting through Baffin Bay,
down Davis Strait, and into
Hell, if I, truly, had any
foresight we could have been
the authors of a new genre,
the 3-week single shot. I
gotta great idea, an 8-hour
zoom of the Eifel Tower.
Sophie pipes up at the 'insult'.
Why do you always make fun
of ze French.
You guys ARE Gauls.
(tired of it)
I've been Dame Fortune's per-
sonal piss pot for over a
decade. You guys ruin this, and
you're going back to ridgerunner
country. Now, job at hand, incendiary
expose on a fat gangster.
Y'all ignore Dziga, he's just
cheesed 'cause he's the butt
INT. URBAN STREET
RAIN pummels the painted, splintered face of a 30-foot tall WOODEN STATUE OF AL CAPONE standing on the pavement in front of the HAWTHORNE HOTEL. The statue rocks back and forth.
Kiss my ass.