Mary Shelley's Frankenstein script
Synopsis: Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is a 1994 American horror drama film directed by Kenneth Branagh and starring Robert De Niro, Kenneth Branagh, Tom Hulce, Helena Bonham Carter, Ian Holm, John Cleese, and Aidan Quinn. The picture was produced on a budget of $45 million and is considered the most faithful film adaptation of Mary Shelley's novel Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus, despite several differences and additions in plot from the novel.

A flap of frozen canvas creaks in the wind ...

The pilot's wheal is now a crystalline sculpture of ice. The

forward mast lies across the deck like a broken limb,

extending out over the ice on a tangle of rigging...

The ship's prow is smashed open above the water line ...

A familiar rosary lies broken on the deck. Beads scattered.

A tiny Christ figure lies with arms thrown wide, painted

eyes staring up at the sky through a thin sheet of ice ...

HIGH, HIGH ANGLE

From the top of mast #2. A breathtaking perspective of the

entire ship below, guaranteed to induce vertigo. The corpse

of the lookout is suspended below us at the end of the

frozen rope, His posture mimics the Christ figure: His arms

thrown wide, dead eyes staring up at the sky through a thin

sheet of ice. A ghastly still-life, the corpse twisting

ever-so-slightly on the wind, rope creaking ...

A SAILOR thrusts into frame swaying precariously in the

rigging, WIDEN to reveal TWO MORE MEN as they reach out with

long gaffing poles to snag the corpse.

EXT - NEVSKY - LOW ANGLE FROM ICE - TWILIGHT

Walton watches them reel the body in. ANGLE SHIFTS as he

turns, revealing the rest of the crew working desperately to

free the ship. Axes and picks rise and fall in waves,

slamming into the ice, throwing up frozen chips. The men are

near collapse, exhaustion carved in their faces. The dogs

are nearby, huskies and malamutes huddled in the snow.

Walton rejoins the men, rams his axe fiercely into the ice.

WALTON:

Put your backs into it!

SAILOR #1

What's the use? This godless ice stretches for

miles! Would you have us chow our way back to

England?

WALTON:

No. But we'll chop our way to the North Pole if

we have to. Inch by bloody inch.

GRIGORI:

You can't mean to go on! Our journey is ended!

The best we can hope for now is to get out of this

alive!

(CONTINUED)

5

SAILOR #2

Aye, if the ice ever lets us!

WALTON:

The ice will break. And when it does, we proceed

north ... as planned.

Cries of dismay from the men. Grigori thrusts his arm toward

the sky, pointing at the corpse on the mast.

GRIGORI:

At the cost of how many more lives?

He's interrupted by a long, chilling HOWL. The lead husky

rises to its feet, hackles up, HOWLING at some unseen thing

in the distance. The other dogs start rising around him,

joining in, staring off across the ice.

GRIGORI:

There's something out there.

The dogs are going berserk. The lead husky breaks free and

launches himself across the ice. The men scramble to

restrain the animals, but three more break away and take off

after their leader. Walton snatches up his rifle.

WALTON:

You five come with me! The rest stay with the

ship!

EXT - ARCTIC PANORAMA - TWILIGHT

The Nevsky in the distance. The dogs come howling across the

ice toward us. The men trail substantially behind.

BOOM DOWN to the icy boulders f.g. A massive hand comes

briefly to rest in one of the crags, ghastly gray skin

rippling with harsh ligaments and sinewy veins, brutal

surgical scars marring the wrist. A HUGE DARK FIGURE wipes

frame, fleeing into the rocks. The dogs come bounding past

in pursuit, snarling and slavering.

THE RUNNING MEN hear an INHUMAN HOWL rise amidst those of

the dogs. A vicious free-for-all echoes from the rocks.

Barking gives way to shrill squeals. An object is launched

from the crags, catapulted through the air in a high arc.

Some men slip and fall as the object slams to the ground

with tremendous impact before them ...

...and they find themselves staring in horror At the sight

of the lead dog. Silence now. Those who have fallen, rise.

Walton cocks his rifle. The group proceeds, picks and axes

held ready, slowly skirting the rocks ...

(CONTINUED)

6

... and the massacre is revealed. Blood-stained ice. Dead,

mangled animals strewn about. One twitching survivor crawls

toward them on broken limbs, whining piteously, dragging its

entrails in a red smear.

GRIGORI:

Look.

They follow his gaze. Bloody tracks lead away from the

bodies, ascending the rocks. Most are smeared and vague ...

but one is clearly a bare human footprint. Several men

cross themselves. Walton shoulders the rifle, aims down at

the surviving dog. BLAM! A single bullet to the brain ends

its misery, punching a halo of blood onto the ice. The shot

echoes for miles.

WALTON:

Back to the ship.

EXT - NEVSKY - ESTABLISHING - NIGHT

Silhouetted against the aurora borealis. The horizon swirls

mysteriously with color and light. Distant slivers of

lightning kiss the earth. Men keep watch in furtive groups,

huddled against the cold, breath punching the air with

billows of vapor. A massive CRACKLING is heard. A YOUNG

SAILOR spins, jumpy.

OLD SAILOR:

Only the ice to starboard, boy.

YOUNG SAILOR:

Is it breaking up?

OLD SAILOR:

Just dancing on the current. It'll freeze even

tighter come next wind

CAMERA DRIFTS past to another group:

SAILOR #4

It was a polar bear. That's what I say.

SAILOR #5

Say all you want, but you weren't there. It left

human tracks.

SAILOR #6

No man could tear those dogs apart

SAILOR #5

No human. We've roused a demon from the ice.

(CONTINUED)

7

CLANG-CLANG! The men spin. A SAILOR on starboard has rung

the signal bell. The men race over, crowding the gunwale.

SAILOR:

Something. In the mist.

Walton appears from his cabin and crowds his way to the

front, rifle aimed at the sky. The men wait. Holding their

breath. Scanning the darkness.

AN APPARITION looms eerily from the mist on a creaking floe

of ice, silhouetted by the shifting light of the borealis.

The figure's pose is uncanny and weird: neither standing nor

kneeling, but something in between, arm dangling at its side

and lolling slowly with the motion of the current.

YOUNG SAILOR:

It's the demon! Shoot while you've a chance!

The Pilot lights the kerosene wick of a reflector box"

spotlight and swings it around. The beam seeks out the

specter and pins it in a dim circle of light ... revealing a

man collapsed on a dog sled, lashed to tiller upright

stanchions with frozen leather straps, Dead dogs lie in icy

heaps around him.

EXT - NEVSKY - NIGHT

The men venture onto the shifting ice with lanterns raised.

Grappling lines are unslung and thrown, the ice floe

snagged. Gaffs reach out, drawing it closer. Men clasp arms,

forming a human chain. Grigori is the first to reach the

motionless figure on the dog sled.

WALTON:

Dead?

Grigori cautiously eases his hand into the darkness of the

furred hood to search the neck for a pulse ...

... and the figure scares the s-hit out of him. With a

convulsive shudder and a gasping intake of breath, the hood

rises up, revealing a haggard face tortured white with

frost, beard frozen solid, eyes blazingly intelligent and

aware. Walton finds himself in an extended beat of eye

contact with VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN.

EXT - NEVSKY - ON DECK - NIGHT

A HOWLING WIND has kicked up, pelting the huddled sentries

with sleet. CAMERA TRACKS past, moving steadily toward the

dimly-glowing window of Walton's cabin ...

(CONTINUED)

8

INT - WALTON'S CABIN - NIGHT

... where we find Walton and Grigori in tense discussion:

GRIGORI:

Captain, I implore you. The men are frightened

and angry. They want your assurance.

WALTON:

They knew the risks when they signed on. I've

come too far to turn back now.

GRIGORI:

Then you run the danger of pushing them to

mutiny.

Walton pulls a pistol from his drawer and slams it flat on

the table before him.

WALTON:

(low, tight)

Let them try.

Grigori is taken aback. He hears a shifting of blankets and

glances to the captain's bed. Walton follows his look.

Frankenstein has awakened and is watching them.

Grigori exits, uneasy under Frankenstein's gaze. Walton

rises, retrieves a pot from the stove.

WALTON:

You're awake. I've prepared some broth. It'll

help restore you.

VICTOR:

(hoarse, faltering)

I'm ... dying.

Victor draws a hand from under the blanket and holds it

before his face. Fingers skeletal and black.

VICTOR:

Frostbite. Gangrene. A simple diagnosis.

WALTON:

Are you a physician?

VICTOR:

(faint smile)

How is it you come to be here?

(CONTINUED)

9

WALTON:

There's a startling question, coming from you.

(beat)

I'm captain of this ship. We sailed from

Archangel a month ago, seeking a passage to the

North Pole.

VICTOR:

Ah. An explorer.

WALTON:

Would-be. I'm plagued with my share of

difficulties just at the moment.

VICTOR:

I heard.

WALTON:

I can't say I blame them. We're trapped in this

ice and bedeviled by some sort of ... creature.

VICTOR:

Creature? A ... human like creature?

WALTON:

(stunned)

You know of it?

VICTOR:

Your men are right to be afraid.

WALTON:

Then explain it, whatever it is. It could save

the voyage. I've spent years planning this. My

entire fortune

VICTOR:

You'd persist at the cost of your own life? The

lives of your crew?

WALTON:

Lives are ephemeral. The knowledge we gain, the

achievements we leave behind ... those live on.

Victor reaches out with his blackened claw of a hand, pulls

him closer. Impassioned, intense:

VICTOR:

Do you share my madness?

WALTON:

Madness?

(CONTINUED)

10

CAMERA PUSHES SLOWLY on Victor's face ...

VICTOR:

We are kindred, you and I. Men of ambition. Let

me tell you all that I have lost in such pursuits.

I pray my story will come to mean for you all that

is capricious and evil in man.

WALTON:

(angry, frightened)

Who are you?

VICTOR:

(beat)

My name is Frankenstein

... and CAMERA proceeds into the bottomless depths of

Victor's staring eye, plunging us into:

TOTAL DARKNESS. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. A METRONOME fades up

before us.

WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)

Failure has no pride, Victor. You must try again.

LITTLE BOY (O.S.

Yes, Ma'am.

INT - GRAND BALLROOM - FRANKENSTEIN MMSION - DAY

We hear a HARPSICHORD begin playing as a WIDER ANGLE reveals

a huge, Magnificent room with vaulted ceilings thirty feet

high. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Hanging tapestries.

VICTOR sits at the harpsichord, a very serious 7 year-old in

his little gentleman's suit and stiff starched collar.

MRS. MORITZ, head of the housekeeping staff, conducts the

lesson. Her daughter JUSTINE, age 4, sits with her doll in a

huge wingback chair, making it dance to the music as she

listens ... but her eyes are on Victor. She adores him.

An enormous door swings open. Victor stops playing. His

PARENTS enter, ushering a somber and beautiful ELIZABETH,

age 6, across the vast expanse of floor. Victor slides off

the bench and faces them.

FATHER:

Mrs. Moritz, would you and your daughter excuse

us?

(CONTINUED)

11

MRS. MORITZ

Of course, Doctor. Madam. Come along, Justine.

Bring your dolly.

Mrs. Moritz takes Justine's hand. Justine gazes back at

Victor and Elizabeth as her mother whisks her off.

MOTHER:

Victor. This is Elizabeth. She's coming to live

with us.

FATHER:

She has lost her parents to scarlet fever. She is

an orphan.

MOTHER:

You must think of her as your own sister. You

must look after her. And be kind to her.

Victor stares at Elizabeth. She returns the gaze evenly,

self-possessed and dignified even at this young age.

ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.)

I loved her from the moment that I first saw her.

EXT - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - NIGHT

A MASSIVE BOLT OF LIGHTNING hammers from the sky, reducing a

centuries-old oak tree to smoldering ruin ...

INT - DOWNSTAIRS PARL0R - NIGHT

... while '(slaps them on the bed) ' gazes at the storm,

face pressed against a window, astonished at the sight.

Lightning throws seething shadows of the rain on his face.

his '... and Grigori breaks the surface again, rising slowly

And impossibly from the water. arms and legs windmill

against the air, propelled from below with nearly aulic

strength. He gazes down in shock at the massive fist

clutching his chest ... and the arm ' appears.

MOTHER:

Victor. Elizabeth is frightened by the storm. Go

comfort her.

INT - UPPER LANDING - NIGHT

We hear a CHILD SOBBING. Victor comes racing up the grand

staircase from below as LIGHTNING sends wild banister

shadows Littering. He caroms down the hall toward:

INT - ELIZABETH'S ROOM - NIGHT

Victor enters. Elizabeth is a tiny figure huddled in an

adult-size bed, gazing up with tear-streaked face at the

huge skylights in the vaulted ceiling, dreading the next

scary boom and flash. Victor approaches and whispers:

(CONTINUED)

12

VICTOR:

Don't cry, Elizabeth.

ELIZABETH:

(frightened)

Aren't you?

KA-BOOM! A LIGHTNING BOLT rips overhead, rattling the panes

of glass. Victor does find it scary ... but exhilarating.

VICTOR:

We'll build a fort. So the lightning can't get

us.

He races about the room, grabbing every pillow he can find

and hurling them to her. Big decorative pillows from the

chaise, bed pillows from the armoire ... they all come

flying. She giggles as a big one knocks her flat. Victor

scampers onto the bed with her. They pile the pillows around

and above, concealing themselves in a bulging heap of

cushions.

INSIDE THE PILLOW-FORT

Victor pokes his hand up, widening a space so they can still

see. Lightning glistens in their upturned eyes.

ELIZABETH:

Are you sure it can't hurt us?

VICTOR:

Nothing can. Not ever.

She seeks his hand. Fingers clasp. Comfort and strength.

TILT UP to the skylight. Rain drumming the glass ...

INT - MANSION - GRAND BALLROOM - DAY

Victor and Elizabeth are learning to waltz, their movements

stiff and awkward, childlike. MRS. MORITZ is at the

harpsichord. Justine sits with her dolly, watching.

MRS. MORITZ

You must lead, Victor. The lady will always look

to you for guidance, so your steps must be sure

and strong ...

VICTOR:

Mrs. Moritz.

MRS. MORITZ

... aaand, one-two-three, one-two- three, twirl-

two-three ...

JUSTINE:

Mama, can I dance with Victor?

(CONTINUED)

13

MRS. MORITZ

Nonsense, Justine. Hush. And now a sweeping arc

about the room! one- two-three, twirl-two-three

Victor and Elizabeth gamely work their way across the vast

room, tripping on each other's toes. They pass within inches

of CAMERA, bodies WIPING FRAME ...

INT - GRAND BALLROOM - DAY (TEN YEARS LATER)

... and they sweep from before our eyes, waltzing away from

camera to reveal Victor now 17, intense and handsome as he

approaches manhood. Elizabeth is a blossoming and graceful

beauty at 16. Mrs. Moritz is still conducting the lessons,

but the person at t

MRS. MORITZ

... one-two-three, twirl-two-three.. Excellent!

You'll be the envy of all the young ladies and

gentlemen!

They're certainly the envy of Justine, who gazes at Victor

as he sweeps Elizabeth around the room in his arms. She

isn't concentrating and fumbles on the keyboard. Her mother

throws her a look of reproval:

MRS. MORITZ

Justine. Surely you can maintain better time than

that.

JUSTINE:

Yes, Mama.

Flustered, she puts her attention back on the keyboard as

Victor and Elizabeth keep dancing, swirling fluidly about

the room, their attention only on each other.

INT - UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT

A skylight above us. A storm is raging, rain drumming the

glass. We hear SCREAMING in the house. TILT DOWN to Victor

perched at the edge of a settee, seething with tension.

Waiting. Elizabeth is with him. She squeezes his arm, trying

to reassure him.

ELIZABETH:

She'll be all right.

Another SCREAM rips down the hallway. Justine comes

scurrying up the stairs, about to enter his parent's room

with a fresh load of sheets. Victor lunges to his feet and

intercepts, trying to push past her, but finds the doorway

implacably blocked by Mrs. Moritz.

(CONTINUED)

14

MRS. MORITZ

You can do nothing here. Wait downstairs.

He can see his mother in the dim kerosene light, writhing

and screaming on the bed, belly swollen and distended. His

father, sleeves rolled up, works feverishly to save her.

VICTOR:

Mother?

FATHER:

Victor, do as you're told!

Justine glances at Victor, longing to comfort him. She

squeezes past into the room. The door slams in his face. He

turns to Elizabeth, eyes brimming with terror ...

INT - PARENTS' BEDROOM - NIGHT

... as his mother falls back on the sweat-soaked sheets,

blowing air like a bellows, trying to give birth ...

EXT - MANSION - NIGHT

... while her SCREAMS mingle with the howling of the wind.

the stump of the long-dead oak tree pokes from the earth in

the foreground like a gravestone, lashed by the rain.

INT - DOWNSTAIRS PARLOR - NIGHT

VICTOR stares out the window at the raging storm. Elizabeth

appears at his side. He doesn't look at her.

VICTOR:

As a boy, I stood at this window and watched God

destroy our tree.

b.g screaming stops, Victor and Elizabeth turn, gazing up

the grand staircase. The sudden silence is even more

frightening. The FAINT CRY of a newborn infant drifts down

A door opens upstairs, throwing a spill of light. Victor's

father appears in silhouette, comes down the stairs toward

them. He pauses halfway down, unable to continue.

VICTOR:

Father?

A FLASH OF LIGHTNING floods the room, revealing Victor's

father on the staircase. Face haggard. Eyes hollow. Clothes

spattered with blood. Hands glistening wetly red.

ELIZABETH:

Oh God.

The blood.

(CONTINUED)

15

Father sits down shakily on a step. Victor and Elizabeth

race up the stairs and pause before him.

FATHER:

I did everything I could.

Victor lets out a sob of anguish. Elizabeth begins to cry.

Father gathers them into his arms.

EXT - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - CEMETERY - DAY

A BABY CARRIAGE stands amidst leaning gravestones, gothic

and ornate, a chill breeze billowing the lace.

A PRIEST recites a Latin burial mass. DOZENS OF MOURNERS are

gathered before the Frankenstein family mausoleum ... an

imposing edifice of stone and spidery wrought-iron, its

steepled roof crowned by a massive granite crucifix.

A sleek black casket lies atop the bier, ringed with flowers

and sorrow. The trees are windswept and bare, branches stark

against a steely gray sky. Victor and Elizabeth stand apart

from the others, staring at the casket. Softly:

VICTOR:

How could all my father's knowledge and skill

fail to save her?

ELIZABETH:

It's not ours to decide. All that live must die.

It's God's will.

Victor raises a grim look at the huge crucifix atop the

mausoleum. Christ returns his gaze with blank stone eyes

VICTOR:

What kind of God is He to will this?

ELIZABETH:

She was mother to me as well. But ours is the job

of the living. It's up to us now to hold this

family together. We must think of Father and be

strong for him.

(beat)

I cannot do that alone.

VICTOR:

God took her from us.

ELIZABETH:

He left a beautiful gift in her place. A baby

boy. To cherish and love as our very own. Your

brother

(CONTINUED)

16

Victor glances at the baby carriage. He seeks her hand.

Their fingers clasp. Comfort and strength.

VICTOR:

Our brother.

The baby starts CRYING as the casket is lowered, its thin

voice carried on the wind ...

EXT - MEADOW - DAY

A gorgeous, sun-dappled day. Tall grass waving on the

breeze. Butterflies skittering. WILLIAM, 11 months-old,

toddles into view. He doesn't get far. PLOP! Down he goes,

right on his ass. His face scrunches up in surprise and he

bursts into tears.

Elizabeth hurries over and scoops him up, cradling and

comforting him. Victor rises from a picnic blanket to join

them. Nanny Justine looks up from her task of laying out the

silverware and food.

JUSTINE:

Poor William! What indignant tears!

ELIZABETH:

There, there ... shhh ...

Victor takes the baby and swoops him high in the air. The

child shrieks and wails, held aloft.

ELIZABETH:

Victor, have a care! You'll make him dizzy!

VICTOR:

The world is a dizzying place.

She tries to reclaim the baby. Victor feints, keeping Willie

out of reach. Elizabeth grows crosser:

ELIZABETH:

Oh, do give him here! He needs to be comforted

and held!

VICTOR:

He needs to vent his outrage to the skies! Make

yourself heard, Willie! Learning to walk is not an

easy thing! Why should it be so?

Elizabeth is exasperated to realize that the baby has begun

to laugh. She glares at both of them. Men.

(CONTINUED)

17

ELIZABETH:

That's the nature of all progress, William. Don't

let your brother sway you otherwise.

JUSTINE:

Quite right!

Victor cradles Willie as if to shield his delicate ears. He

peers at Elizabeth with mock-grave suspicion and speaks to

the baby sotto-voce, in deepest confidence, man-to-man:

VICTOR:

Don't listen, Willie. Progress is a feast to be

consumed. Women would have you believe you must

walk before you can run. or run before you can

waltz!

ELIZABETH:

(laughing)

Give me that child before you fill his head with

drivel!

Victor waltzes the baby in circles. Elizabeth stalks them.

VICTOR:

Devil take walking, ladies! My brother shall

learn to waltz!

He grabs her by the waist, pulls her into it. There's no use

resisting. She succumbs and they dance with the baby between

them. Justine is gasping with laughter.

JUSTINE:

Elizabeth, really! He's quite mad!

ELIZABETH:

Scandalous! What would your dear mother say?

JUSTINE:

(thinks a beat)

one-two-three, one-two-three, twirl-two-three ...

Laughing, Victor and Elizabeth waltz little William around

in a sweeping arc. They pass within inches of the CAMERA,

bodies wiping frame ...

INT - GRAND BALLROOM - NIGHT (6 YEARS LATER)

... and 'Come now. Magnus? Agrippa? Next thing you know,

you''ll be teaching toadstools to speak.' and CREATURE sweep

from before our eyes to reveal the grand ballroom ablaze

with candlelight and spectacle as a HUNDRED DANCERS swirl

about the floor in a

(CONTINUED)

18

breathtaking waltz to the music of a full string ensemble

(NOTE:
The music here should be our movie's distinctive

WALTZ/LOVE THEME, which will reoccur later.)

Victor and Elizabeth dance magnificently, room spinning

about them in a blur. Now 24, he's in the prime of manhood.

Elizabeth, 23, is a drop-dead beauty radiating poise and

intelligence. They're so right for each other, so beautiful

together, your heart could break just looking at them.

Justine, now 21, has blossomed into a beauty herself. She's

at the sidelines, wearing a lovely gown, wishing someone

would ask her to dance. William, now 7, scampers to her

side. She stoops to straighten his collar and smooth back

his hair. Waltzing couples swirl past them.

WILLIE:

Auntie Justine, Papa said I could have a sweet.

JUSTINE:

You can. But not before dinner.

The music ends amidst applause. The men bow to the ladies,

the ladies curtsy in return. Victor escorts Elizabeth off

the dance floor. Elizabeth fans herself, flushed and happy.

JUSTINE:

You dance so beautifully together.

ELIZABETH:

And you look so lovely.

They share a sisterly hug and a radiant smile. The orchestra

recommences. The music is lush. Justine looks hopefully to

Victor, keeping her tone light:

JUSTINE:

Victor? Spare me one dance?

Elizabeth catches Victor's eye.

ELIZABETH:

Go on, ask her. Please. I'm quite out of breath,

Victor gallantly offers his arm. Justine takes it, lighting

up as he escorts her onto the dance floor ...

...and they begin to dance. She's glowing. This is a big

moment for her. But they've hardly begun, when...

...ting-ting-ting, Victor's father is tapping a champagne

glass with a knife. The dancers stop. The orchestra falls

silent. Justine hides her disappointment as servants pass

among the guests with glasses of champagne.

(CONTINUED)

19

FATHER:

My friends, fatherly pride won't allow this

occasion to pass without my raising a toast.

Shouts of assent. Victor is grabbed by his friends and

dragged forward, a glass of champagne shoved in his hands

FATHER:

To Victor. My son. Who read every medical book in

my library by age thirteen ... and then re-read

them, which seemed excessive even to me.

(the guests ROAR with laughter)

Drape yourself in glory, my boy. Study well.

When you return, you return a man of medicine. I

will then be honored to call you "colleague."

VICTOR:

But never your equal.

FATHER:

No. You'll surpass me.

Applause and roars of approval. The drinks are tossed back.

Victor is jostled with backslaps and handshakes.

EXT - MANSION -'NIGHT

Music and warm light spill from the windows. A COUPLE eases

through a French door and come racing across the lawn,

giggling and hushing each other. They take refuge under a

tree, revealing their faces to the moonlight: Victor and

Elizabeth. She leans against the trunk to catch her breath.

ELIZABETH:

Smell the air. Wonderful.

VICTOR:

Quite a send-off, isn't it?

ELIZABETH:

Father's so proud.

VICTOR:

And you?

ELIZABETH Prouder still. You'll be the handsomest student

there.

VICTOR:

I'll have to do better than that.

(CONTINUED)

20

ELIZABETH:

You will.

(searches his eyes)

What do you want, Victor?

VICTOR:

To be the best there ever was. To push our

knowledge beyond our dreams ... to eradicate

disease and pestilence ... to purge mankind of

ignorance and fear ...

He's so serious, she can't help laugh.

VICTOR:

I'm not mad.

She smiles, smoothes a lock of hair gently off his forehead.

ELIZABETH:

No. Just very earnest. And very dear.

An extended moment. Unspoken words flowing between them.

Victor leans forward and kisses her. Her eyes widen

slightly. So do his. Shared excitement, gentle and sexy

beyond belief. They pause, draw back, searching each other's

eyes. He whispers:

VICTOR:

I've loved you all my life

ELIZABETH:

All my life live known.

They kiss again. A breath. A shiver.

VICTOR:

This feels ... incestuous.

ELIZABETH:

is that what makes it so delicious?

She brushes her lips against his. Gentle as a sigh.

ELIZABETH:

Brother and sister still?

VICTOR:

I wish to be your husband.

ELIZABETH:

I wish to be your wife.

(CONTINUED)

21

VICTOR:

Then come with me to Ingolstadt. Marry me now.

ELIZABETH:

If only I could. But one of us must stay.

Father's not strong. Willie's just a child. Who

can look after them in your absence? Who can run

the estate?

VICTOR:

Only you

ELIZABETH:

I will be here when you return,

Another kiss. Turning lustful and steamy. They melt into

each other, sinking down, bodies pressing and minds afire.

These people are hot for each other. They stop, stunned at

the intensity. He lays his head to her breast. Their fingers

clasp. She whispers her secret:

ELIZABETH:

My head is spinning. I want to give myself to

you.

He raises his head. She meets his gaze evenly

ELIZABETH:

If we're to be married, must we wait?

He touches her face. Fingertips tracing downward, gentle and

reverent, brushing the contours of her bosom at the edge of

her bodice. She shivers. Closes her eyes. Lays her hand over

his. Guiding his touch.

VICTOR:

You make me weak.

ELIZABETH:

Not as weak as I.

She raises his hand to her mouth. Brushing his fingertips

with her lips. Wrestling with desire. Their eyes meet.

ELIZABETH:

Our decision. Together.

VICTOR:

Your decision. For us,

ELIZABETH:

(hesitates)

I give you my soul ...

(CONTINUED)

22

VICTOR:

(nods)

... until our wedding night. When our bodies will

join.

ELIZABETH:

Victor. I love you,

VICTOR:

Elizabeth. My more than sister.

They kiss again. Gently ...

EXT - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - CEMETERY - DAWN

A misty gray dawn. Victor is kneeling at a gravestone,

observing a moment of silence. His saddled horse is tethered

nearby. Softly:

VICTOR:

I'll make you so proud, Mother.

He lays a small sprig of flowers on the grave, rises and

walks toward his horse.

EXT - MANSION - MORNING

Overcast and chill. An open carriage stands loaded. The

family and household staff have turned out. Victor stands

ready to go. Father pulls him into a back-slapping embrace.

FATHER:

Write to us often.

Victor moves on to Justine, takes her hand.

VICTOR:

We never finished our dance.

(she smiles)

Someday we shall.

Next is William. The little boy stands stiffly, tears on his

face, trying to be brave. Victor kneels and whispers:

VICTOR:

The others will look to you while I'm gone,

Willie. Be strong.

The boy nods miserably, throws his arms around Victor's

neck. Last comes Elizabeth. She and Victor regard each

other, sharing the secret of last night. A faint smile plays

at the corners of her mouth. He kisses her cheek.

VICTOR:

Elizabeth.

(CONTINUED)

23

He mounts the carriage. CLAUDE snaps the reins and lurches

away, speeding Victor off to his future. Victor turns back

for a final look at the home and family he loves so much.

William runs after him until he's gone from sight ...

DISSOLVE TO:

INGOLSTADT - ESTABLISHING ANGLES - DAY

High white clouds in a blazing blue sky. Church steeples

rising among the rooftops. Beautiful.

BOARDING HOUSE - DAY

FRAU BRACH trudges heavily up a long, steep, narrow flight

of stairs with Victor teetering uneasily behind.

FRAU BRACH:

No real rooms left. All we've got is attic space.

No one ever wants the attic space ...

ATTIC SPACE/GARRET - DAY

She leads him into an immensely long space running a twisted

path the entire length of the building; various levels and

areas unhindered by wall separation, massive vaulted beams

crisscrossing as understructure to the roof. Daylight

filters dimly through dozens of dormer windows and skylights

coated with grime. Nooks and crannies abound.

VICTOR:

This will do nicely.

UNIVERSITY - DAY

A monumental structure of brick. A BELL TOWER TOLLS. Dead

leaves scurry across the lawn.

LECTURE HALL - DAY

PROFESSOR KREMPE, a squat little man, paces before the

packed galleries of eager young STUDENTS.

KREMPE:

In science, the letter of fact is the letter of

law. Our pursuit is as dogmatic as any religious

precept. Think of yourselves as disciples of a

strict and hallowed sect. Someday you may be

priests ... but only if you learn the scripture

chapter and verse.

(off their laughter)

Any questions?

(CONTINUED)

24

VICTOR:

(hand shoots up)

But surely, Professor, you don't intend we

disregard the more ... philosophical works.

KREMPE:

Philosophical?

VICTOR:

Those which stir the imagination as well as the

intellect. Paracelsus, for one.

This reference is lost on all but a few. At the faculty

table:
PROFESSOR WALDMAN peers up at Victor, adjusting the

glasses on his nose. Up among the students: HENRY CLERVAL

leans out and shoots an amused look in Victor's direction.

SCHILLER catches Henry's look and rolls his eyes.

KREMPE:

Paracelsus?

VICTOR:

Or Albertus Magnus. Cornelius Agrippa ...

KREMPE:

What is your name?

VICTOR:

Victor Frankenstein, sir.

(no response)

Of Geneva

KREMPE:

Of Geneva.

(beat)

Tell me, Mr. Frankenstein of Geneva. Do you wish

to study medicine? Or mysticism?

Titters sweep the room. Krempe remains staunchly unamused:

KREMPE:

Those of you unfamiliar with Mr. Frankenstein's

suggested reading list ... thankfully, that would

be most of you ... would be well advised to avoid

it. Here at Ingolstadt, we concern ourselves with

immutable reality...

(specific to Victor)

...not the ravings of lunatics and alchemists

hundreds of years in their graves. Understood?

(CONTINUED)

25

Victor is flushed and humiliated. Held like to say more, but

wisely swallows his anger and nods.

KREMPE:

I am relieved. Are there any relevant questions?

(there are none)

Lecture hall dismissed.

EXT - UNIVERSITY - DAY

Victor exits wearing a distinctive black greatcoat, fuming

over the exchange with Krempe. He strides across the lawn,

eyes fixed straight ahead.

Henry Clerval races up behind him and falls casually in

step. Victor glances over. Henry nods pleasantly, as if held

been there all along. Victor responds with a curt nod and

resumes his straight-ahead demeanor. They walk in silence,

just two guys heading in the same direction.

Henry can't help it; he snickers loudly to himself. Victor

shoots him a sharp look. Henry's smirk vanishes, replaced

with blank innocence. Did somebody snicker?

HENRY:

I was just clearing my throat.

VICTOR:

Very well then.

They continue walking. Silence thick. Finally:

HENRY:

You know, you're quite mad.

Victor stops. Turns

VICTOR:

(low, measured)

I am not mad.

HENRY:

(matching Victor's tone)

As a march hare.

Henry's expression betrays nothing ... but perhaps there's a

trace of amusement in his eyes?

VICTOR:

Are you having me on?

HENRY:

Of course I am. It pays to humor the insane.

(CONTINUED)

26

Beat. Victor smiles. Henry grins, offers his hand. takes it.

HENRY:

Henry Clerval.

VICTOR:

Victor, Victor Frankenstein.

HENRY:

I know. You have a way of making an impression.

INT - GASTHOF - DUSK

The tavern is packed with students and noise. Beer and food

served at a frantic pace. We find Victor and Henry at a

small table, tearing into sausages and cheese.

VICTOR:

Do you really think I'm mad?

HENRY:

Come now. Magnus? Agrippa? Next thing you know,

you'll be teaching toadstools to speak.

Schiller enters with FRIENDS. They pause at Victor's table

SCHILLER:

if it isn't the sorcerer. Found yourself an

apprentice?

VICTOR:

I'm afraid I rejected his application. He merely

dabbles

HENRY:

Dilettantes need not apply. What about you?

Schiller, isn't it?

SCHILLER:

Von Schiller. I'm interested in real medicine.

Treating the sick

HENRY:

Really? I myself find sick people rather

revolting.

(off their looks)

I'm here to secure my degree with a minimum of

fuss and hard work that I might settle into a life

of privilege treating rich old ladies with gout

and dallying with their daughters.

(CONTINUED)

27

SCHILLER:

You two disgust me.

Schiller and his friends stalk off.

EXT - INGOLSTADT - DUSK

LONG LENS magnificently compresses buildings and steeples,

distant hills and drizzly sky. Victor wears his greatcoat as

he and Henry walk along a twisty cobblestone street.

VICTOR:

Rich old ladies and their daughters?

HENRY:

Can you think of a better reason?

VICTOR:

Quite a few.

HENRY:

Do me a favor then ...

(claps his shoulder)

... keep them to yourself.

Victor takes a shocked beat and bursts into laughter,

INT - AUTOPSY ROOM - DAY

Waldman, in sinock, addresses a GROUP OF STUDENTS from

across morgue slab. He throws a sheet back to reveal a

corpse dissected to reveal the inner workings. The others

crowd for a closer look. Victor glances to Henry, who leans

back and rolls his eyes in utter disgust.

INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY

PUSHING SLOWLY IN on Victor sitting at a tall dormer window,

writing a letter with quill and ink. It's raining outside.

The garret is tidied.

EXT - RYE FIELDS - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - LATE DAY

WORKERS are harvesting for miles around. PAN to Elizabeth

and Claude examining the sheaves on a wagon. She cracks the

grain and tastes it, glances to Claude. He smiles and nods.

CLAUDE:

It's turning out to be a good year.

ELIZABETH:

Let's return a tenth of the crop to the tenants.

(off his look)

They had a hard winter.

(CONTINUED)

28

CLAUDE:

Not even your father would be that generous.

ELIZABETH:

Then there's no need to tell him, is there?

Claude grins and motions to his MEN. They resume loading the

sheaves as a STABLEBOY rides up:

STABLEBOY:

Miss! The mail arrived! There's one from Master

Victor!

INT - FRANKENSTEIN PARLOR - NIGHT

We find the family gathered around the fire as Elizabeth

reads Victor's letter aloud:

ELIZABETH:

... and not a day goes by that I do not cherish

your faces in my mind's eye or ache to see you all

again. Be assured that I am with you in spirit,

and you are never far from my thoughts. I remain,

as always, your loving and devoted Victor. P.S.

She pauses, reading ahead.

INSERT OF LETTER

The P.S. reads:
"Elizabeth ... I am holding our vow precious

in my heart."

ELIZABETH:

glances up at their expectant faces.

WILLIE:

What does it say?

ELIZABETH:

It says, give Willie an extra big hug for me.

WILLIAM:

(beaming)

Read it again?

She smiles, rearranges the pages as we

FADE TO:

29

INT - UNIVERSITY HALLWAY - DAY

A classroom door. SHOUTING from within:

VICTOR (O.S.)

That's no excuse for being a pompous ass!

Victor storms out with Krempe at his heels. Krempe pauses in

the doorway, red-faced, bellowing after him:

KREMPE:

I'll see you thrown out of this university! I'll

go to the dean himself! Take me at my word,

Frankenstein! The dean himself!

Classroom doors are opening, faces peering out. Waldman

among them. Victor keeps going, doesn't look back.

INT - GASTHOF - NIGHT

Victor and Henry slouched at their regular table writes in

his thick, well-worn leather journal.

HENRY:

The entire school heard it. It wasn't something

one could miss.

VICTOR:

You're a comfort to me, Henry.

HENRY:

What now? Writing about it in your journal won't

help.

VICTOR:

(quietly)

It's a letter to my father.

Henry falls silent. Victor closes the journal, winds it

secure with its leather thong, jams it deep in the outer

pocket of his greatcoat. Brooding. The bell above the door

JINGLES. A gust of wind sweeps in. They glance up. Professor

Waldman enters, dapper and soft- spoken, impeccably

courteous. He murmurs a pleasantry to the INNKEEPER and

drifts over to Victor's table.

VICTOR:

Professor Waldman.

WALDMAN:

(takes a seat)

Victor, explain yourself.

(CONTINUED)

30

VICTOR:

Krempe has a way of provoking my temper.

WALDMAN:

You have a way of provoking his.

(beat)

I've been watching you. You seem impatient with

your studies.

VICTOR:

To say the least. I came here to expand my mind,

but honest inquiry seems strangled at every turn.

All we do is cling to the old knowledge instead of

seeking the new.

WALDMAN:

You disdain accepted wisdom?

VICTOR:

No, I embrace it ... as something to be used or

discarded as we advance the boundaries of what is

known.

HENRY:

(mutters to Waldman)

Now you've got him started.

VICTOR:

These are exciting times, Henry. We're entering

an era of amazing breakthroughs. Look at Edward

Jenner. He wasn't content to bleed people with

leeches, he pioneered a new frontier of thought

HENRY:

... yes, and thanks to him, smallpox has been

virtually eliminated. I've heard this speech

before.

VICTOR:

But you haven't listened, Never in history has so

much seemed possible. We're on the verge of

answers undreamt of ... but only if we have the

courage to ask the questions,

WALDMAN:

I understand your frustration. I was young once

myself.

(beat)

Walk me home. Something I'd like to show you.

(CONTINUED)

31

INT - WALDMAN'S HOME - WORKSHOP - NIGHT

The gaslights come up with a SOFT HISS. The first thing

Victor and Henry notice is an artist's nook situated

adjacent to big windows where the light would be best during

the day. Easels are lined with in-progress work on a variety

of subjects, everything from landscapes to anatomical

studies, all quite excellent.

The rest of the place is a laboratory crammed floor-to-

rafter with arcane equipment. Taking off his coat and

rolling up his sleeves, Waldman leads Victor and Henry down

rows of tables crammed with experiments and clutter.

WALDMAN:

You know for thousands of years the Chinese have

based their medical science on the belief that the

human body is a chemical engine run by

electricity? They say we all contain streams of

energy which flow through us like currents in the

ocean, or rivers in the earth.

They arrive at a table. Waldman roots through a tray of

knickknacks, holds up an acupuncture needle.

WALDMAN:

Their doctors treat patients by inserting needles

like these into the flesh at various key points to

manipulate these electric streams.

He directs their attention to an ancient Chinese silk on the

wall. It depicts the human body from front and side angles.

Acupuncture points are clearly marked.

VICTOR:

Preposterous.

WALDMAN:

I once saw it done, as a boy in Canton. My

parents were missionaries. The cure was nothing

short of miraculous.

(off their looks)

I've never forgotten it. Been fascinated ever

since.

HENRY:

It smacks of magic.

Waldman slides forth a steel pan and uncovers it to reveal

an enormous dead toad in dissection. Copper mounting pins

trail wires to a small panel of switches. The switches, in

turn, are connected to a series of galvanic batteries.

(CONTINUED)

32

Waldman starts throwing switches. Victor and Henry jump as

the toad convulses with motion. They watch, stunned, as

Waldman puts the toad through its paces: legs kick, feet

flex, mouth opens and closes, lungs breathe.

WALDMAN:

Magic. seems alive, doesn't it?

Waldman shuts the thing down, strips off his gloves, his arm

at the array of wires and batteries.

WALDMAN:

Electricity.

VICTOR:

It's utterly fantastic! This is the sort of thing

I'm talking about! We should be learning this!

WALDMAN:

Why? God alone knows what it means. Until it has

proven value, it's nothing more than a ghoulish

parlor trick. Hardly fit for the classroom.

VICTOR:

But the possibilities Combining ancient knowledge

with new? Something like this could change our

fundamental views!

WALDMAN:

It is a thrilling direction to explore. Thrilling

and dangerous.

(off his look)

Nature can be wonderful and terrible. Science is

not a realm for the reckless; it needs a

conscience. we must proceed cautiously. Assess as

we go.

(drapes the toad)

What I do on my own time is my own business. The

same holds true for you. You wish to expand your

mind? Fine, do so. You can even join me here, if

you like. But not at the expense of your normal

studies.

VICTOR:

I doubt that decision is still mine to make.

WALDMAN:

(waves)

Nonsense. Tonight you will draft an apology to

Professor Krempe...

(CONTINUED)

33

Victor starts to object, but Waldman overrides him with a

stern gesture for silence. Listen.

WALDMAN:

"...a sincere and heartfelt apology which you will

then read aloud to him before the assembled

student body and faculty.

VICTOR:

Why?

WALDMAN:

(draws close)

our profession needs talent like yours. Destroy

your career over an issue of pride? what a waste.

Waldman hands him the acupuncture needle. A gift. Victor

studies it, fascinated.

WALDMAN:

Go home, Victor. Write the letter,

INT - LECTURE HALL - DAY

DOLLYING VICTOR IN A SWW 360: He stands before the students

and faculty, reading his apology.

VICTOR:

... and I further wish to extend my sincerest

regrets to Professor Krempe for my display. My

behavior toward him was both rash and inexcusable

Up in the gallery, Krempe nods grudgingly to himself.

INT - FRANKENSTEIN MANSION - DUSK

Exquisite silverware goes CLINKING SOFTLY onto polished wood

as:

ELIZABETH (O.S.)

(laughing)

I knew held get himself in trouble.

TILT UP to reveal the expansive dinner table being set for

guests. KITCHEN STAFF are to-ing and fro-ing. Elizabeth

splits her attention between supervising and reading

Victor's letter, while Justine busies herself with a flower

arrangement. Willie gets underfoot. Father just sits.

JUSTINE:

Must've been a terrible row.

(CONTINUED)

34

ELIZABETH:

He was almost expelled for calling one of his

professors a "pompous ...

(glances to Willie)

... fellow.,,

FATHER:

He always was opinionated.

ELIZABETH:

(reads on, laughs)

He set things right with a proper apology ... and

now they've put him in charge of dissection lab!

WILLIE:

What's that?

FATHER:

That's where they cut things open and peer about

inside.

WILLIE:

Things? What sort of things?

Father is about to press on with the gory details, but

Elizabeth freezes him with a glance.

ELIZABETH:

It's far too ghoulish for your young ears.

The old man throws Willie a look. We'll talk later.

ELIZABETH:

The point is, your brother is a brilliant student

well on his way to becoming the finest-and most

compassionate doctor ever ...

INT - WALDMM'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT

A DISSECTED DOG convulses through its electronically-

induced paces. Kicking. Twitching. Tasting the air with its

dead tongue. TILT UP to reveal Victor at the switch.

Waldman leans close to observe. Softly:

WALDMAN:

Re-configure the leads?

VICTOR:

Numbers four and twelve directly into the nervous

system?

Waldman nods.

WALDMAN:

Worth a try.

(CONTINUED)

35

INT -.AUTOPSY ROOM - DAY

With Waldman at his side and Henry providing the tools as

needed, Victor instructs a freshman class in the internal

workings of a dissected corpse. Professor Krempe observes

from a distance.

VICTOR:

... and the medulla oblongata is the transition

between the spinal cord and the two parts I've

already named ... cerebrum and cerebellum. Any

freshmen feeling queasy yet?

(glances around, smiles)

All of you, from the look of it. We'll resume

your torture tomorrow.

He waves them dismissed. They laugh and exit, relieved.

Waldman squeezes Victor's elbow. Well done. Victor stiffens

at Krempe's approach.

KREMPE:

You seem to be adapting well to the approved

curriculum.

VICTOR:

Despite the lack of challenge.

Krempe reddens, but says nothing. He gives Waldman a curt

nod and walks off.

WALDMAN:

Victor. He was trying to be gracious.

VICTOR:

The strain was evident

HENRY:

Come now, you must take some satisfaction. You've

risen to the top of your class. A position of

prominence and regard.

Victor weighs this, glances at both of them, smiles.

VICTOR:

What keeps me going are my friends.

He throws his arm around Henry's neck, pulls him into an

affectionate headlock. Henry struggles and laughs:

HENRY:

Leave off!

(CONTINUED)

36

JEWELER'S SHOP - DAY

Victor is gazing with reverence at a gorgeous oval locket

dangled before him by a smiling JEWELER. He glances to Henry

for an opinion.

HENRY:

Your Elizabeth must be quite a treasure, Victor

(pointedly to jeweler)

... to justify these prices.

The jeweler's smile goes frosty.

WALDMAN'S WORKSHOP - DAY

TIGHT ANGLE ON the locket lying open against canvas,

dangling from an easel frame. TILT DOWN to reveal a

magnificent miniature oil portrait of Victor in progress, no

more than three inches high within its penciled oval.

Waldman paints with an extraordinarily delicate touch,

jeweler's glasses riding low on his nose, eyes unnaturally

large behind the magnifying lenses. Victor sits patiently

for the portrait, suffused with daylight.

Henry leans in over Waldman's shoulder, studying the

portrait. Waldman stiffens a bit, aware of his presence. He

clearly hates people looking over his shoulder.

HENRY:

(deadpan)

Shouldn't the nose be above the mouth?

Waldman heaves a long-suffering sigh. He abruptly jabs his

brush at Henry's nose, daubing it with paint. Dignity upheld

he resumes his careful work as Victor laughs.

INT - WALDMAN'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT

Victor, Waldman, and Henry are gathered around the remains

of a meal, laughing uproariously, enjoying one another's

company. Cigars are lit, wine is flowing. Conversation is

fast and loose, intense and passionate:

WALDMAN:

I'm quite serious. Look at all the charity and

clinic work we do. Up until thirty years ago, the

concept of vaccine was unheard of.

HENRY:

You're saying all disease will eventually be

eradicated?

(CONTINUED)

37

WALDMAN:

I'm convinced. Not by treating symptoms, but by

diving nature's most jealously-guarded secrets.

HENRY:

(turning serious)

Do you foresee this happening in our lifetimes?

WALDMAN:

No. But someday.

HENRY:

Thank goodness. We'd be out of work

A HOWL OF OUTRAGE AND LAUGHTER. Victor flings his napkin in

Henry's face.

VICTOR:

Only you would think of that!

HENRY:

(laughing)

Somebody has to!

Victor raises his wine glass. The others join. A toast.

VICTOR:

I tell you what we need, my friends. Forget the

symptoms and diseases. What we need is a vaccine

for death itself.

WALDMAN:

(laughter)

Oh, now you have gone too far, There's only one

God, Victor.

HENRY:

(raises his glass)

And here's to Him. Everything in moderation,

Frankenstein.

VICTOR:

(grins)

Nothing in moderation, Clerval.

INT - POOR HOUSE - DAY

CAMERA, TRACKS the gritty reality of a big-city poor house,

crammed with society's dregs: the poor, the uneducated,

wailing babies, stampeding children. Absolutely jangling

with noise and confusion ... loud and stifling ... people

getting eye-ear-nose-throat exams ... being vaccinated ...

(CONTINUED)

38

The "doctors" in attendance are all Ingolstadt STUDENTS

performing community service, none of whom look like they're

enjoying it. Schiller looks particularly harried

We find Victor and Henry giving out vaccinations. They keep

glancing over their shoulders at Waldman as he gets further

embroiled in a no-win argument with a wiry, ferret-faced MAN

terrified about getting his vaccination:

MAN:

Yer not stickin' it in me! Got pox in it, I hear

tell!

FAT WOMAN:

Pox? They givin' us pox?

Ripples of panic spread. Waldman is as tense and clipped as

we've ever seen him, valiantly trying to control his temper

amidst the surrounding cacophony and ad-lib dialogue:

WALDMAN:

No, it's not pox, it's a vaccine ...

FAT WOMAN:

Vaca-what?

WALDMAN:

... vaccine, from the Latin vacca, meaning cow

(glances at her girth)

... or vaccinia, meaning cowpox ...

MAN:

I told you there was pox in it I

WALDMAN:

... no, no, cowpox in a minute quantity,

perfectly harmless, gives you a natural immunity

to small ox, which is the point of this whole

bloody exercise ...

Victor and Henry are pausing work. Concerned. Drifting

closer. The ferret-faced man is cornered.

MAN:

You doctors kill people! I don' care what you

say, you ain't stickin' it in me!

WALDMAN:

I most assuredly am! It prevents disease and it's

the law! Why am I explaining myself? Somebody

restrain this damn fool!

(CONTINUED)

39

It happens this fast: There's an innocuous blur of motion as

the man seems to tap Waldman lightly in the stomach, then he

darts away, slamming past Victor and Henry. Victor looks

after him running away, hears something clatter to the

floor. He glances down. A thin knife. Victor looks to

Waldman. Puzzled. It still hasn't really dawned.

Waldman turns to them, face drained of color, hand pressed

to his sternum, lips tight. He looks more annoyed than

anything else. He exhales slowly.

HENRY:

Professor?

WALDMAN:

(softly)

Oh God

That's when the blood starts pumping through his fingers.

They catch him as he collapses, cradling him as he sprawls

to the floor. People are pushing and crowding to see.

EXT - POOR HOUSE - DAY

A cobblestoned street-scene. carriage. A delivery wagon.

Vendors. Pedestrians.

The doors of the poor house burst open, releasing a frenzy

into the street:
Victor and Henry carrying Waldman by his

arms and legs, all the students running alongside, some of

them weeping with panic, the crowd at their heels still

trying to catch a glimpse, pedestrians scattering, the

students dwindling up the long winding street, bearing their

professor toward the school, shouting for help...

INT - UNIVERSITY CHAPEL - DAY

Krempe delivers the eulogy before the open casket. The

chapel is full. Victor is seated near the back. Dazed. Henry

comes up the aisle and slides in next to him. Victor doesn't

even glance over. Henry whispers:

HENRY:

They just caught the man who did it.

VICTOR:

He was a frightened soul who acted out of fear

and ignorance.

HENRY:

They'll hang him all the same.

VICTOR:

Good. I'll be there to hear his worthless neck

snap.

(CONTINUED)

40

People glance back. Henry lays his hand on Victor's elbow.

HENRY:

Keep your voice down. You don't know what you're

saying.

VICTOR:

It was wrong, Henry! It shouldn't have happened!

The bastard deserves to die.

Victor is causing ripples of attention throughout the

chapel. Even Krempe falters briefly in his eulogy. Henry

pulls Victor from the pew, drags him up the aisle ...

INT - CONFESSION BOOTH - DAY

... and into the confessional where they launch at each

other in harsh whispers.

Dialogue here is overlapping and intense:

HENRY:

You're making a scene!

VICTOR:

Why Waldman? He of all people should have cheated

death!

HENRY:

You can't. Death is God's will!

VICTOR:

I resent God's monopoly

HENRY:

That's blasphemy!

VICTOR:

Blasphemy be damned! Waldman spent his life

trying to help people!

HENRY:

All the more reason for us to continue his work

with the poor!

VICTOR:

(beat, low)

No. He had more important work.

HENRY:

There are sick people who need our help. Here and

now. Not in some future time. Consider that.

(CONTINUED)

41

Henry exits. Victor tries to compose himself, clasping his

hands together as if in prayer ... or quiet rage. He gazes

up. There on the wall hangs a crucifix.

VICTOR:

Life and death.

(beat)

Why should You alone have the final say?

VICTOR"S POV PUSHING SLOWLY IN on the Christ figure before

him, bleeding from a crown of thorns, arms thrown wide.

DISSOLVE TO:

DA VINCI'S STUDY OF MAM rises from the image of Christ,

striking an eerily similar pose, arms thrown wide within the

perfect circle. We hear a DOOR BEING UNLOCKED as ...

INT - WALDMAN"S WORKSHOP - DAY

... a WIDER ANGLE reveals the deserted workshop. the door

swings open as MARIE lets himself in. He sees the finished

locket lying open on a table, picks it up, studies the

beautiful miniature portrait it contains. Snaps it shut.

He looks up, eyes falling upon the Da Vinci print hanging on

the wall. He stares. Intense.

INT - WALDMAN'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT

TRACKING SHOT:
Things are in the process of being sorted and

boxed. We find Victor poring over Waldman's notes:

VICTOR:

To understand the causes of life, we must first

have recourse to death ... and examine the process

in minutest detail ...

EXT - TOWN SQUARE - DAY

A gray day. Waldman's ferret-faced MURDERER stands weeping

helplessly on the scaffold as sentence is read:

MAGISTRATE:

... his body to be left on public display for a

twenty-four hour period, thereafter to be

consigned to an unmarked pauper's grave. So the

court has spoken.

(CONTINUED)

42

The EXECUTIONER draws the hood over the murderer's head,

cinches the noose tight. The condemned man is blubbering,

pleading for his life.

Victor stands in the crowd. 'Watching. Waiting. we hear the

THUMP of the body dropping, the CRADK of a snapping neck..

EXT - TOWN SQUARE - NIGHT

Dark as Hades. Pissing down rain. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING and a

CRASH OF THUNDER. The dead man still hangs from the

scaffold, lashed by the wind.

Victor looms from the storm, hands jammed in the pocket of

his greatcoat. He pulls out a thin, glittering blade. The

very weapon which took Waldman's life. He gazes up at the

dead man ... at the rope from which he dangles ...

INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT

The dead murderer lies pale and naked on a slab. Victor

leans close, still dripping, studying the face closely. A

FLASH OF LIGHTNING throws wild Littering shadows through the

dormer windows and skylights. Softly:

VICTOR:

No longer pathetic and useless

INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY

The dead man, dissected and wired, jerks bolt upright,

flopping and convulsing, eyes opening and closing, mouth

gaping open and shut. He falls back limply as Victor shuts

the power off, making careful notations in his journal.

INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY

TRACKING the dissection table ... up the length of the

murderer's body ... now in an advanced stage of decay ... we

hear the SOFT BUZZING of flies ...

We find Victor standing over the corpse. Gaunt and hollow-

eyed. Exhausted and obsessed. Wearing a butcher's apron.

Staring down at one of the dead man's forearms. Maggots are

swarming in the flesh. He abruptly raises a cleaver and

WHACKS it off at the elbow.

INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT

TRACKING SLOWLY past the forearm lying in a steel pan, we

find Victor performing an intense chemical analysis. Dead

tissues are breaking apart in solvents, distilled over a

slow-burning flame. Victor smears a glass slide, places it

under a microscope.

(CONTINUED)

43

INT - GASTHOF - DAY

Victor is hunched over his notebook, pale and unhealthy,

scribbling notations next to a rendering of the human form.

Henry is across from him:

HENRY:

Victor. This has got to stop.

(Victor glances up)

Nobody's seen you in months. You haven't attended a single

class.

VICTOR:

I've been preoccupied.

HENRY:

We all know how hard you took Waldman's death.

Even Krempe is sympathetic. But it is time to move

on. It is time to concern yourself with life.

VICTOR:

That is my concern.

(faint smile)

I'm involved in something just now. I want to

finish it in Waldman's memory.

HENRY:

How much longer?

VICTOR:

Few months perhaps. I'm gathering the raw

materials even now.

EXT - GRAVEYARD - NIGHT

The wrought-iron doors of a crypt have been forced open.

CAMERA PUSHES through to find Victor standing inside over a

stone sarcophagus with a pry bar in his hands. He's nervous,

working up his courage:

VICTOR:

Materials. That's all they are Tissue to be re-

used.

He pries off the stone lid. It THUMPS heavily to the floor,

cracking in half. He opens the casket, reaches in, raises

the pale arm of the deceased to inspect it.

EXT - GRAVEYARD - NIGHT

Stone monuments. Bare trees. Ivy-covered ground. Victor

shoulder-deep in a grave. Shoveling. A lamp burns low.

(CONTINUED)

44

COFFIN - NIGHT

Pitch black. The lid swings open, cascading dust and soil.

Victor peers down, holding the kerosene lamp high.

VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT

TRACKING ALONG the shelves, crammed now with formaldehyde

jars of feet and hands, brains and kidneys, the occasional

head staring through the glass, dead cats ...

... and we find Victor working into the wee hours. Hunched

over his specimens. Candle flame flickering low. Referring

back to Waldman's notes. Making notations in arcane books

such as "De Occulta Philosophia," by Agrippa, and "Le

Sciences et les arts D'alchimiste," by Paracelsus.

FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - LATE DAY

A magnificent backdrop of mountains against a cloudless blue

sky. TILT DOWN to Elizabeth and Justine with the mansion

distant. A steady breeze ripples the fields as Elizabeth

regards a stack of mail.

ELIZABETH:

Nothing. Still nothing.

JUSTINE:

It's been months. It's not like him.

ELIZABETH:

Something's wrong. I know it.

(off her look)

I've heard rumors of cholera spreading south from

Hamburg.

JUSTINE:

So have I

ELIZABETH:

I should go. I should leave today.

JUSTINE:

Elizabeth. If it's true, travel into Germany

would be banned. You'd never get near Ingolstadt.

(beat)

Besides, they're only rumors.

ELIZABETH:

(beat, nods)

And not a word of them to Father. He's agitated

enough not hearing from Victor.

(CONTINUED)

45

JUSTINE:

Read him one of the old letters and rephrase it.

We'll say it came today. It'll set his mind at

ease.

Elizabeth gives her a hug. They walk toward the mansion

INT - BLACKSMITH SHOP - DAY

Murky and dark. Bellows are pumping. Showers of sparks

cascade. The BLACKSMITH and his ASSISTANT are pounding a

metallic sledgehammer litany, beating a huge copper sheet

into shape. Victor enters. The blacksmith directs his

attention to a finished copper piece leaning against the

wall. Victor runs his hand over the surface. Nice.

INT - MATERNITY WARD - CHARITY HOSPITAL - NIGHT

A WOMAN lies on a table, screaming as she goes into labor.

Her water breaks, cascading into a steel bucket. one of the

ASSISTANTS snatches it up, scurries around the corner.

Victor is waiting in the shadows. Money changes hands.

INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT

Victor is examining the amniotic fluid. Boiling it off.

Working to synthesize it.

INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT

Victor pours the final drum of fluid into what appears to be

a large copper vat. He dips his hand in, examines the

consistency and smell. ANGLE WIDENS, spinning slowly up to

reveal that the vat is human in shape. A sarcophagus.

EXT - ALLEY - NIGHT

We find Victor examining three corpses on the back of a

wagon, checking nostrils and teeth with gloved hands. A PAIR

OF MEN lurk in the shadows, waiting.

VICTOR:

That one

The corpse is lifted off. Money changes hands.

MAN:

With this cholera come to town, we'll have plenty

more for you.

INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT

Victor wearing elbow-length gloves, hacking furiously away

with a bone saw. Tossing aside the scraps.

(CONTINUED)

46

VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT

Victor has an arm wired, testing reactions. He scrapes off a

small shred of tissue, drops it in solution, watches it

break apart. it doesn't look good. He glances feverishly at

the clock, makes a fast decision, scribbles in his journal:

VICTOR:

Not optimal. Must use. No time to replace. Body

can't wait.

VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT

Victor stitches a torso with one of those big, awful curved

needles, yanking up hard to draw the catgut tight.

ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.)

I stitched it together with my own hands ...

VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT

Victor pulls on a chain, hoisting the body off the slab via

block-and-tackle mounted on a ceiling track. The body rises

limply into the air, spinning slowly, arms and legs

dangling, long black hair covering its face.

ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.)

a patchwork man of my own devising.

Victor reaches up with one hand to stop the body spinning.

He pushes it down the length of the lab, rolling it along

its ceiling track like a side of beef in a meat locker.

INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT

The Creature lies on an improvised bier of crates,

surrounded by shadows and clutter, draped/sprawled like

Christ taken from the cross in Michelangelo's "Pieta."

Beakers bubbling and dripping. Intravenous lines seeping and

secreting. A misty chemical haze in the air. Victor is

watching his patchwork man. Glowering. Waiting.

ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.)

It took nutrients like a child receiving milk ...

blushed like a young girl with the blood I forced

through its veins ...

A FLASH OF LIGHTNING rips through the skylights, bathing the

scene purple/white. Eerier and eerier.

ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.)

... all in preparation.

(CONTINUED)

47

VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY

We find Victor passed out in a chair. His creation is still

taking fluids. Gray daylight streams through the windows.

There's commotion in the street outside: shouting, horses'

hooves clattering on cobblestone, an occasional scream or

wail. Victor doesn't stir. Dead to the world. Somebody

starts POUNDING on the door. Victor rouses, takes a moment

to remember where he is. He lurches from his chair, grabs a

canvas tarp, throws it over his "patchwork man."

STAIRWELL - DAY

Henry is pounding. Finally the latch is drawn. The door

swings open a crack. Victor peers out. Gaunt and furtive.

Suspicious. Henry is stunned at his dissipated appearance.

HENRY:

God's sake, what is that stench?

Henry peers past him.

Victor shifts, blocking his view

VICTOR:

This is a bad time, Henry. I'm busy just now.

What do you want?

HENRY:

Things have gone worse with this cholera

outbreak. Thousand new cases a day now. Classes

have been suspended. University's shut down.

VICTOR:

Yes? And?

HENRY:

Listen to what I'm saying. The militia's arriving

to quarantine the city. Most of us are getting out

while we still can.

VICTOR:

You'll be leaving then.

(beat)

Just as well. You never were cut out for this,

Henry. Goodbye.

And the door slams shut. The bolt is thrown. Henry pounds.

HENRY:

VICTOR! OPEN THE DOOR! LISTEN TO REASON!

(CONTINUED)

48

Nothing. Stunned and hurt' Henry turns from the door and

heads back down the stairs.

EXT - VICTOR'S BUILDING - STREET - DAY

Henry exits into a nightmare. REFUGEES are streaming from

the city, horses and wagons, people on foot, carrying their

possessions. Henry steps into the street and is nearly run

down by a carriage.

VOICE (O.S.)

OUT OF THE WAY!

Henry glances up to see Schiller at the reins, struggling to

control the animals as the carriage eases past.

HENRY:

Schiller? You're leaving? Where's all that high

talk about treating the sick?

SCHILLER:

(icy)

To hell with them. And you.

He snaps the reins, not caring who he runs down. The

carriage lurches away, scattering refugees before it.

Henry keeps walking. Jostled by the hostile crowd. Looking

around. Dazed. Dead bodies are stacked along the street like

cordwood, waiting for the death carts. ANGLE WIDENS as Henry

stumbles along through utter despair and devastation,

stunned at the human suffering around him as we

FADE TO:

INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT

Victor glances at the clock. Scribbles in his journal:

VICTOR:

Time running out. Rate of decay accelerating.

Must strike now ... or start again from scratch.

He gazes down at his creation, lying once again on the slab

before him ... but now the Creature lies on a full body-

length steel grate. Steel chains with hooks dangle from the

ceiling above ... along with long coils of thick copper wire

tipped with glittering needles big enough to knit with.

Victor glances up at the Da Vinci. The Study of Man has been

daubed with red paint at key acupuncture points. Victor dips

a huge cotton swab in a bowl of iodine, starts dabbing

identical marks on the body before him ...

(CONTINUED)

49

Now he's ramming the huge wire-fed needles deep into these

spots, brutally working them around in the flesh to get good

contact. The forearms, the neck, the rib cage ...

Now he's attaching the steel chain-hooks to the four corners

of the steel grate ...

Now he's pulling on a rope, straining to hoist the whole rig

into the air. It lifts slowly from frame: body, needles,

wires and all ...

HIGH WIDE ANGLE:

... and we get our first spectacular look at Frankenstein's

gloriously low-tech and stupendously arcane 2LicU the

Creature dangles below us from the ceiling-hoist, lying

full-length and horizontal on its steel grate, spinning

slowly, thick copper wires trailing from its arms and legs,

rib cage and neck, armpits and groin. The copper cables

trail upward, coil along the ceiling like garden hose to

provide necessary slack, meander down the wall to culminate

in a splendiferous array of galvanic batteries, steam

engines and generators.

Frankenstein reaches slowly up, fingertips straining toward

the ceiling as if worshipping the creation revolving

endlessly above his head in a perfectly-described circle not

at all unlike the Da Vinci ...

.And he grabs the lever on the platform and pulls to start

it spinning, with a mighty heave, he sets the whole thing

gliding in motion, CAMERA TRACKING FASTER AND FASTER as he

rolls it along the ceiling track through the lab, passing

table after table of desiccated leftovers and discarded

scraps, LIGHTNING BLAZING through the windows to mark his

way with wild and sinister shadows ...

... and he yanks the platform to a stop over the copper

sarcophagus. Amniotic fluid steaming and murky within. He

positions the platform, unties the rope, lowers the Creature

down and down, lower and lower, sinking into the vat, the

steel grate a perfect fit in size and shape.

Faster now, moving furiously. Reaching into the murk,

unhooking the chains. Arraying the copper wire through air-

tight guide holes. Spinning on his heels and reaching up,

grabbing hold of the upper shell of the sarcophagus also

suspended from the ceiling, stunningly heavy, gleaming with

reflections and secrets. CAMERA ROCKETS DOWN on Victor as he

swings the upper shell into position, lowers it into place

with a THUD-CLANK! Working the wing-nuts on the bolts,

spinning frantically, tightening them down, sealing the

sarcophagus air-tight. Faster now. Faster.

(CONTINUED)

50

The frenzy builds and the CAMERA GOES WILD, rocketing,

zooming, gliding, spinning the audience on its ear:

Frankenstein. Turning up the heat on the burners. Cooking

the copper from below. Double double, toil and trouble.

Frankenstein. Gazing through the thick glass portholes

checking on his creation drifting in the murk.

Frankenstein. Whipping up the galvanic batteries,

supercharging them with steam generators. Watching as they

send voltage humming and throbbing through the copper cables

along the ceiling beams. Building up a charge.

Frankenstein. Gazing at his gleaming handiwork. LIGHTNING

painting his features into a twisted mask. Hand on the

switch. Ready to rev it up and throw the throttle.

Over it goes. WHAM! Overdrive.

The body convulses violently in its copper womb as the first

jolt of electricity hits. THUNX-THUNK-THUNK! Blazing with

energy and arcane light, fingers of light throbbing through

the portholes, sparkling, glittering, seeking.

Frankenstein races to the sarcophagus. A long glass tube,

two feet in diameter and ribbed with steel, gets lowered on

a boom and rammed into a hole, collate spun tight, inner dam

wrenched out like a Polaroid plate.

He reaches up and grabs holds of a pull-chain, fingers going

knuckle-white on the wooden handle. one hard yank. A dump-

tank is released, murky water cascading down the glass tube.

And here's the final perversion, the ultimate icing on this

twisted cake:
the copper sarcophagus is literally a womb,

with the giant glass tube serving as a massive gleaming

phallus down which come pouring dozens of electric eels,

wriggling and streaming like huge black sperm ...

EEL POV (IN THE TUBE)

... rocketing down the tube, slithering and squirming,

faster and faster, racing into the sarcophagus, seeking out

the creation in the murky womb-fluid, lashing at the hapless

gray flesh, zapping it again with high-intensity voltage.

the Creature convulsing, thrashing, jerking from side to

side, raising its head against the top, mouth gaping open

and shut, jaws snapping with electrical surges.

Frankenstein's face appears at the porthole, peering in,

watching his dark seed fertilize his unholy child.

VICTOR:

(muffled through the glass)

Live, you bastard!

(CONTINUED)

51

A huge bony hand slaps against the porthole, fingers clawing

and spasming against the glass.

FRANKENSTEIN jerks his head back, stunned. The fingers are

scratching. He turns, runs to the electrical rig, shutting

the whole thing down. It cycles off, whining into silence

INSIDE THE SARCOPHAGUS

... and the body relaxes, shutting down with it, going limp

and lifeless in the murk, spasms trailing off.

FRANKENSTEIN stares at the sarcophagus. Realizing his

creation has stopped moving. Nothing now. He sags to his

knees, utterly devastated at the loss of his dream. Nothing.

It was all for nothing ...

INSIDE THE SARCOPHAGUS

... And The Creature opens its dim yellow eyes, Aware. Its

mouth goes wide, teeth bared in a silent scream as it tries

to breathe and finds nothing in its lungs but fluid.

FRANKENSTEIN is wrapped in his despair, face cradled in his

hands. A SOFT TAP. He glances over his fingers. Thinking he

imagined it. No. There's another tap. And another.

We see it in his eyes. Sheer joy and stunned exultation.

Triumph and wonder unbelievably sublime. A bare whisper:

VICTOR:

It's alive. It's alive.

And then hell breaks loose: Massive convulsions wrack the

sarcophagus, damn near shaking it off its cradle. THUMP-

THUMP-THUMPI Pounding from within. Head ramming against the

inner lid. He races over, frantic, fingers fumbling on the

wing-nuts, spinning them loose, trying to free the drowning

man within. He unscrews the final bolt, reaches for the rope

to hoist the lid away ...

... and the lid launches itself across the room, propelled

from below with rocket-booster force. The massive copper

shell goes hurtling/spinning/cartwheeling across the lab,

demolishing an amazing array of equipment in its path, and

thunders massively off the wall in an explosion of masonry

and splintering coat rack. Victor's greatcoat goes flying.

(CONTINUED)

52

Silence. Frankenstein is frozen. Staring at the roiling

surface of the amniotic fluid as it settles. An eternity

passes in the space of a heartbeat.

The Creature erupts from the vat like a vision from Hell,

thrashing and gagging. murky fluid cascading in all

directions-, The Creature seizes Victor by the shirtfront,

trying to pull itself from the vat, slipping and sliding

like an epileptic in a bathtub full of oil, damn near

dragging Victor in, eels leaping and frothing and crackling

with electricity. Victor screaming, trying to pull away,

trying to break the Creature's grip ...

... and the whole thing tips over. Victor reels back,

falling as the vat SLAMS to the ground, cascading its murky

contents,, washing the Creature limply across the floor like

a body tossed from the ocean, eels flipping and flopping,

snapping electrical discharges into the air. Victor

scrambles back, slipping and sliding on the amniotic muck,

desperately jerking his legs away. He finds his traction and

scrambles to his feet.

The Creature is grasping and crawling toward him. Flopping

and jerking. Gripped by seizures and convulsions. Vomiting

murky liquid as his lungs heave grotesquely to dispel the

fluid. Swiping the air with palsied hands. Malfunctional.

VICTOR stands dripping fluid and goo, chest heaving, staring

down at the Creature, not quite able to believe he was

midwife to this ghastly birth. Softly:

VICTOR:

What have I done?

The Creature lunges to its knees, grasping him, clutching

his clothes, pawing him.

VICTOR:

LET GO OF-ME!

Victor can't break free. Panicking. He snatches a hammer

from a nearby table and brings it down on the Creature's

head. THUD! Again and again. Beating the thing down,

pounding it into submission. The Creature finally collapses,

sliding down Victor's legs, curling up like a fetus,

twitching and jerking in its own afterbirth.

Silence now.

A ghastly tableau: Victor stands in the middle of his ruined

lab with his creation moaning and twitching at his feet in a

dying heap. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING silently bathes the room,

jerking wild shadows across the walls.

(CONTINUED)

53

Victor steps over the Creature. Dazed. He drops the hammer.

It clatters to the floor. He stops to jot a final entry:

VICTOR:

Massive birth defects. Result is malfunctional

and vile.

(beat)

Have chosen to abort.

He walks stiffly away, disappears into the bedroom ...

INT... BEDROOM - NIGHT......

... where He staggers to the canopied bed, beyond exhausted,

and collapses face-down into oblivion. Weeping.

FADE TO:

INT - VICTOR'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

The wee hours. Rain pattering desolately on the roof. Victor

sleeping. Wrestling with troubled dreams. Through a crack

in the bed curtains, we see the bedroom door slowly creak

open, throwing a twisted spill of light. A shadow appears.

Entering. Shambling and gliding across the floor. Silent and

furtive. Creeping toward the bed.

PUSHING SLOWLY IN on Victor. Moving into close-up. Sleeping.

Unaware. The shadow falls across his face

Beat. His eyes fly open. An intake of breath. Paralyzed.

Sensing the presence. Feeling the shadow. Working himself up

to something. Perhaps a scream. He can stand it no longer,

thrusts out his arm, jerks the curtain aside ...

... and the Creature is there, Looming like a specter of

death. Naked. Beseeching. Dull yellow eyes trying to

understand. 'The pilot''s wheal is now a crystalline

sculpture of ice. The forward mast lies across the deck like

a broken limb, extending out over the ice on a tangle of

rigging...' lurches from bed, sends a nightstand and vase

CRASHING to the floor. the Creature circles, seeking him,

threatening to cut off his path to the door.

VICTOR:

Stay away!

He darts past the thing, careening out into the lab. The

Creature whips around, unsteady for a moment, then follows

him with surprising speed.

INT - LAB - NIGHT

Victor races through the lab with the Creature hobbling

behind, trying to catch up. Victor hurling lab equipment,

tipping shelves in its path, anything to slow it down.

(CONTINUED)

54

Victor rips the door open, lunges through, slams it in the

Creature's face. The Creature presses against the wood with

pathetic little moans, begging not to be left alone.

He sinks to the floor. Abandoned. Shivering with cold. Sees

Victor's greatcoat where it fell. Grabs it. Drags it over.

Shrouding himself.

EXT - STREET - NIGHT

Victor races into the downpour, soaked to the skin in

seconds, mind racing. He needs a plan. He presses on.

INT - SHOP - NIGHT

Victor appears at the window. TILT DOWN to reveal an array

of gleaming swords lying in their velvet display. Victor

hurls a brick through the glass. Snatches up a sword.

INT - VICTOR'S BUILDING - NIGHT

Victor careens in from the storm, drenched, racing up the

stairs, sword glittering in his grasp. He gets to the top of

the stairs ...

INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT

... only to discover the door torn off It's hinges. He

enters, stunned. The thing is gone.

EXT - STREET - NIGHT

Victor races back into the storm. Searching. Slogging grimly

on. Lashed by the wind and rain. Mocked by the lightning.

He'll never give up. Not until he finds the thing and takes

back the life he gave it. He dwindles from view, vanishing

into the gale as we

FADE TO:

EXT - ALLY - MORNING

Gray and drizzly. Heaps of wet garbage. Crawling rats.

There's a shifting, heaving motion. The vermin scatter as

the waking Creature peers at the world from beneath the

greatcoat like a frightened child peering from under a

blanket. Lost and confused.

He scrabbles through the garbage for something to eat. He

finds a rotted scrap, chews it anxiously. Ravenous.

TWO FERAL DOGS appear, grizzled denizens of the city's

gutters and back-alleys, peering with insolent eyes.

Watching him eat. Assessing his potential as a threat. The

Creature stares ingenuously back. Not knowing to be afraid.

(CONTINUED)

55

The lead dog curls his lips back with a guttural SNARL. The

Creature draws back sharply with a fearful MOAN. That's all

it takes. The dogs are on him, snarling and snapping, the

food torn from his hands. The dogs dart away, growling and

fighting over the scrap.

The Creature is left whimpering and shaken. He pushes to his

feet and hurries in the opposite direction, legs bare and

pale beneath the swirling greatcoat, clutching his collar

against the cold. He hears a distant CLANGING.

VOICE (O.S.)

Bring out your deeeaaad! Bring out your deeeaaad!

A death cart clatters slowly past the mouth of the alley,

DRIVER ringing his bell. It makes no sense to the Creature,

but it's a sign of human life. He presses on ...

EXT - TOWN SQUARE - DAY

... and emerges into the square as ANGLE WIDENS. There's a

fair amount of activity. People are still leaving the city,

though the earlier flood has thinned. Some citizens are

still trying to go about their normal lives. VENDORS are

calling out, selling foo

The Creature moves through the square, unnoticed, just

another figure mingling with the flow. People trudge along,

eyes downcast, miseries great, paying little attention.

The Creature pauses, sniffing the air. An aroma draws him to

a vendor's stand. Loaves of bread are laid out. He hunches

down to smell one, picks it up, bites off a chunk. Chewing.

It's good. A bigger bite. Snatching up more.

WOMAN (O.S.)

Here! What do you think you're doing?

The Creature glances up. The VENDOR'S WIFE is within arm's

reach, breath catching in her throat at the sight of him.

Mouth gaping. Too stunned to scream.

The Creature cradles the loaves to his chest, terrified

she's going to take them away. He remembers his recent

experience with the dogs and decides to try out the lesson

he learned:
he curls his lips back and snarls.

He's rewarded with a PIERCING SHRIEK. The Creature jumps

back, startled. This wasn't the desired effect. The woman

SCREAMS like she'll never stop. He turns to run away ...

... and plows right into the stream of refuge S. He goes

sprawling, scraping his knees bloody, still clutching his

(CONTINUED)

56

loaves. Confusion all around. People converge angrily. A

ROUGH MAN grabs his hair, jerking him upright ...

ROUGH MAN:

Stupid bastard!

... and the Creature staggers to his feet before them,

whimpering to protect his food, showing his face to all.

Screams and panic. The Creature whips around, seeing

horrified faces on all sides ...

He's the cholera! He's the one been spreadin' the plague!

... faces which turn into an angry mob, glaring sheer

hatred. Somebody hits him in the face with a heavy stick,

spinning him to the ground, loaves of bread scattering. they

surround him, hitting, flailing, throwing stones. He tries

to crawl, whimpering for them to stop.

VENDOR'S WIFE

BURN HIM! BURN HIM!

The Creature finds himself hoisted into the air, falling

back onto a sea of hands, kicking and screaming as the mob

sweeps him across the square like some pagan sacrifice. He

gets tossed onto the hard cobblestone in a thrashing heap,

scrambles to his knees as the crowd surrounds him. He's

wailing with terror now, long inhuman howls of fear. Men

start flinging lamp oil, spattering him, blinding him. A

torch is lit, swung toward him. Feel the heat.

The Creature lunges to his feet, panic and terror complete

bulldozing through the crowd to get away from the torch,

bowling people over, scattering them in all directions. He

breaks free, hobbling wildly across the square, greatcoat

billowing. The mob streams after him, thirsty for blood,

hurling rocks and sticks.

EXT - STREETS/ALLEYS - DAY

The Creature is weeping as he runs, bleeding from his many

cuts and bruises. He turns a corner, collapses against a

wall to catch his breath. He can hear them coming, shouting.

They'll be here any second.

He sees a death cart heaped with bodies. He hurls himself up

on the cart to conceal himself among the putrefying corpses.

The crowd streams past the mouth of the alley. The death

cart WORKERS appear, heaving another corpse onto the cart,

gaping fearfully at the confusion. They scramble into their

seats, snap the reins. The cart rattles off as we

DISSOLVE TO:

57

EXT - STREET - DAY

Elsewhere in Ingolstadt. Death carts and devastation. This

part of town was hit hard. Bodies are heaped in gutters,

stacked along the walls. People are huddled in doorways,

quaking with sickness and pestilence. CART WORKERS move

among them, faces shrouded with kerchiefs and burlap masks.

WORKER #1 moves down a row of the sick and dead, shaking

them to see which is which, his face hidden behind heavy

burlap. He pauses, seeing Victor unconscious against the

wall, pale and covered with filth, shaking with fever. The

worker's eyes widen. Stunned. He calls over his shoulder:

WORKER #1

over here!

WORKER #2 hurries over. Stares down. Eyes also widening.

WORKER #2

Oh my God.

Worker #1 rips his mask away. It's Henry. He leans down and

grabs Victor, trying to rouse him.

HENRY:

Victor

Worker #2 also sweeps his mask aside. Professor Krempe

KREMPE:

Don't dawdle, lad! The sick cart! Lift on three!

One, two, three!

They hoist Victor off the ground by his arms and legs and

carry him into the street. Victor rouses, feels himself

being carried. He sees a death cart looming ahead, stacked

with heaps of reeking dead. Staring. Waiting.

VICTOR:

(delirious, struggling)

No ... no ... I'm not dead ... please ... Don't

put me on the cart! I'm not dead! I'm not dead!

I'M NOT DEAD!

ANGLE WIDENS UP as they carry him kicking and screaming past

the death cart and on across the square ...

WIPE TO:

EXT - MASS CEMETERY - DAY

A death cart rattles past, bearing its load. PAN WITH IT to

reveal a scene utterly Dante-esque. Here's where the dead

are brought to be burned en masse. Fires are burning. Smoke

(CONTINUED)

58

is drifting in thick clouds, obscuring the sky. Soot is

drifting like black snow. BODIES are dumped into a slit-

trench, rolling and tumbling in heaps. Barrels are kicked

over. Streams of oil come pouring down, splashing and

soaking.

One of the corpses moves, heaving the others aside, The

Creature gazes around, terrified once again at the smell of

oil. He knows what that means. He pushes free, clambering

over bodies, desperately trying to scramble from the trench,

loose soil crumbling under his fingertips ...

ON THE LIP OF THE TRENCH

... as WORKERS prepare to light the blaze. A MAN turns

toward the trench with a burning torch ... And then the

Creature erupts from the trench of dead bodies right before

big eyes, The man SCREAMS. The Creature SCREAMS even louder,

cowering back. The man hurls the torch. The Creature ducks

as it goes spinning over his head into the trench.

WA-BOOOM! A massive wall of flame punches sky-ward. The

Creature whirls, stunned at the searing heat, arms thrown up

in horror. He flees, scattering the workers as he goes,

running from this ghastly place of flames and death ...

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT - WOODS - DAY

The Creature comes blundering into view. On the move. He

knows not where. Just away, He arrives at a pond. Water.

He's thirsty. He scrambles to water's edge, starts lapping

it up with his hands. He pauses, noticing his broken

reflection. The water settles and his face comes clearly

into view. He throws his hands up and SHRIEKS, terrified at

his own reflection ...

... and then he realizes it's him down there. He stirs the

water with his fingertips to make sure. He reaches up,

touching his face, utterly horrified at the sight of it...

... and utterly heartbroken. He drops his face into his hand

and weeps helplessly. BARKING DOGS in the distance. He looks

up, thinking they're after him. A moan of grief. He pushes

to his feet.

TRACKING THE CREATURE faster and faster through the trees,

running from this world he's been born into. Gasping for

breath. Crashing through branches.

(CONTINUED)

59

The BARKING draws closer. He hurls himself into a thicket,

scrambling to hide himself, covering himself with dead

leaves. Panic. Exhaustion. Mortal terror.

He flinches as something comes CRASHING through the brush

nearby. The legs of a DOE come into view. Staggering.

Falling. Thrashing down into a cushion of dead leaves. Two

arrows protrude from her heaving side.

A tiny FAWN stumbles into view on ungainly legs, mouth open,

frothing with exhaustion and terror. waiting for his mother

to rise. Her thrashing grows weaker. Dying.

The Creature moans at the sight. The fawn turns, meets his

gaze. An extended beat. A rush of empathy. The Creature

reaches out. The fawn takes a few hesitant steps toward him.

The BARKING draws closer. HUNTERS shouting. The Creature's

fingertips make contact with the fawn ...

A pack of the biggest, nastiest Staffordshire terriers

you've ever seen throw themselves HOWLING AND SNARLING onto

the doe, savaging her like whirling dervishes, The Creature

lets out a SHRIEK, snatches up the fawn as he lunges to his

feet, crashes off through the foliage with the fawn cradled

to his chest. The dogs take off after him.

DOLLYING THE CREATURE

Running full-tilt, SHRIEKING in terror all the way. Trying

to save the fawn. Trying to save himself. The dogs are

snapping at his heels, trying to sever his hamstrings and

bring him down. He hears RUSHING WATER ahead, crashes

headlong through a thicket ...

EXT - RIVER - DAY

... and sails SCREAMING into empty SPACE, twisting and

spinning as He falls, plummeting head-first into the rapids.

the dogs are left behind. the Creature gets swept along,

gasping and choking, caroming off huge boulders, fawn still

clutched protectively to his chest.

Finally the water starts to settle. He manages to lash out

and secure a handhold. He pulls himself up, clambering over

the rocks and staggering onto firm soil. He collapses to his

knees, dripping water and heaving for breath.

He lowers the fawn away from his chest, joyous at their

escape ... only to realize the small animal is limp and

lifeless in his hands. He crushed it to death trying to save

it. He lays it down, moaning, trying to understand. ANGLE

WIDENS UP into the trees as we

DISSOLVE TO:

60

WOODS - DUSK

TILT DOWN to reveal a solitary figure in a greatcoat

trudging across the sodden countryside under a dismal,

darkening sky. Cold. Hungry. Wet. Tired.

The Creature pauses, hearing FAINT MUSIC drifting on the

breeze:
the lovely flute-like sounds of a recorder. He slogs

to the crest of a ridge. There's a small house in the valley

below. A peasant dwelling. Smoke drifts from the chimney.

That's where the music comes from (a simple and plaintive

rendition of our movie's WALTZ/LOVE THEME).

The Creature proceeds down the ridge ... drawn by the music

and the promise of warmth.

HOUSE - DAY

The Creature approaches cautiously. Furtive. He eases to a

window, catches a glimpse inside, draws back. Listening. The

tune ends. We hear the pleasant murmur of VOICES. FOOTSTEPS

come clumping across the floor. The Creature reels back and

dives around the side of the house as the door unlatches and

swings open. FELIX exits, a poor man trying to scratch an

honest living from the soil. He heads in the same direction

as the Creature ...

ANOTHER ANGLE:

... and walks around the corner of the house just as the

Creature scrambles from view behind the chicken coops. The

Creature watches through the wire and wood as Felix

approaches and stops, only his legs visible. Feed is

scattered through the wire. The chi

PIGSTY - DUSK

... and finds himself in the company of PIGS. the animals

GRUNT and SQUEAL in alarm.

FELIX (0. S.)

Yes, yes, I'm coming ...

The Creature scurries further back into the shadows as

Felix's feet stop just outside. A pail is upended. Slop

pours into the trough. Felix walks away. The pigs scurry to

eat. The Creature leans forward intently. Food?

He crawls to the trough and squeezes in among the pigs. They

jostle, but he jostles right back, wanting his fair

(CONTINUED)

61

share. He laps up the slop with his fingers, dribbling it

down his chin. Not much on taste, but it's edible.

He stops, hearing the recorder MUSIC again, turning toward

the sound. He follows it, crawling back into the darkest

recesses where the sty adjoins the wall of the house. He

places his eye to a chink between the logs ...

... and sees GRANDFATHER playing the instrument near a

fireplace of glowing embers. The Creature shifts for another

view, sees the family preparing the table for dinner. Felix

and his wife MARIE are helped by their children, MAGGIE AND

THOMAS, ages 6 and 8

MARIE:

Bring Grandfather to the table.

The old man stops playing as the children scurry over. As

Maggie helps him to his feet, Thomas tosses another log on

the fire. It BLAZES UP. Fire and sparks. in the pigsty, the

Creature draws back with a fearful moan ...

... that nobody but GRANDFATHER hears, He pauses to gaze

blindly toward the wall, eyes milky with cataracts,

wondering what it might have been. Probably nothing. He lets

the children lead him toward the table. the meal is brought

from the stove and ladled out.

The Creature eases back to the chink in the wall, smelling

it from here. A string of drool spills from his mouth. It's

humble fare, not very appetizing, but it looks like a feast

compared to pig slop ...

DISSOLVE TO:

INT - VICTOR'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Victor lies sleeping. Wrestling with troubled dreams. In an

eerie echo of before: the door creaks open in a spill of

light. A shadow enters, creeps to the bed, falls across his

face. Victor's eyes fly open. He tries to erupt from bed,

choking on a scream ... and Henry wrestles him back to the

pillow to feel his clammy forehead.

HENRY:

Thank God your fever broke.

(offers him water)

Slowly, now. Just a sip.

(Victor sips, falls back)

I've been worried we might lose you. It's been

touch-and-go for a week.

VICTOR:

A... week?

(CONTINUED)

62

HENRY:

We feared cholera. Turned out to be pneumonia,

brought on by nervous exhaustion and some idiot

running around in a storm. -

VICTOR:

Is that your diagnosis?

HENRY:

Mine and Professor Krempel's.

(off his look)

We've been trading off nursing you in shifts. The

rest of the time we're out working with the

cholera victims. It's his turn for that just now.

VICTOR:

You've been going round-the-clock?

HENRY:

We catch a few hours sleep where we can. Usually

here at your bedside.

VICTOR:

(deeply moved)

Everything in moderation, Clerval.

HENRY:

Nothing in moderation, Frankenstein.

Victor takes Henry's hand. Squeezes it.

HENRY:

It's the down-and-outs I pity most. Those who

can't fend for themselves. They'll be dead by the

thousands before this is done. They don't stand a

chance out there.

VICTOR:

(thinking of his creation)

No. They don't.

HENRY:

Victor. This place looked like a charnel house.

What went on here?

Victor pauses, too emotional to respond. Softly:

VICTOR:

I want to go home.

Beat.

Henry accepts this, though he doesn't like it.

(CONTINUED)

63

HENRY:

It'll be months before you're well enough.

Meantime, your family must be frantic not hearing

from you.

Henry grabs a stack of letters from the nightstand.

HENRY:

I found these. Some of the postmarks go back nine

months.

(slaps them on the bed)

Why don't you open them? And when you've the

strength, have the decency to ease their minds

with a reply. Soon as the city ends quarantine,

I'll even mail it for you. Along with this.

(raises the locket)

It's a beautiful gift. Does her no good lying

here.

Henry leaves him alone to wrestle with his guilt. Victor is

swept with emotion and remorse. He closes his eyes. Softly:

VICTOR:

It can't survive.

INT - PIGSTY - DAY

The Creature and the pigs are sleeping in a heap. He rouses,

scattering them, crawls to the slats of the sty. Felix is

returning wearily from the fields with a large basket on his

back. The Creature moves to his chink in the wall to see

Felix enter the house and dump the basket out for Marie. A

pathetic array of potatoes and turnips.

FELIX:

Not much to look at. Even less to eat. I don't

how we're going to get through the winter with

this yield.

MARIE:

We'll sell another pig at market.

FELIX:

one less for us.

MARIE:

We'll make do. We always have.

He sinks into a chair, weighed by worry. She moves to

comfort him, cradling his head to her breast. He returns her

embrace, drawing strength. A tender, gentle moment. The

Creature watches, puzzled and empathetic, deeply moved by

her sympathy. Felix gathers himself, wipes his eyes.

(CONTINUED)

64

FELIX:

I'll see if I can scratch a few more out of the

ground.

He hoists the basket and exits. The Creature turns to watch

Felix trudging back toward the fields.

EXT - FIELD - DAY

Felix digs for potatoes, tilling as he goes. Back-breaking

work. Thomas provides what help he can. Some distance away,

Maggie and Grandfather are tending the cow. ANGLE SHIFTS to

reveal the Creature watching from the brambles ...

INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT

The Creature watches the family eat their dinner. Potatoes

and turnips. A glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

EXT - HOUSE - NIGHT

A long shadow looms toward the dwelling ... circling the

house...approaching the shed. Baskets and tools ...

EXT - FIELDS - NIGHT

We find the Creature working by the light of a refulgent

moon, hacking away at the soil, tilling the earth ...

INT - PIGSTY - DAWN

The Creature stirs, hearing movement within the house. He

scurries to the slats of the sty and peers out. All the

baskets from the tool shed are stacked to overflow before

the door.

The door opens. Felix steps out and trips on a basket,

sprawling to the ground in a torrent of potatoes and

turnips. He sits up, gazing in wonder.

INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT

A sliver of warm light spills through the chink in the wall.

The Creature looms into frame, busily munching a raw potato.

A pig comes snuffling at his elbow. He shoves him away. Go

find your own. Inside, the family is enjoying a much more

generous meal than the last one:

GRANDFATHER:

I wish we could thank our benefactor.

FELIX:

Nothing in this life comes free of cost. I'd like

to know who and why.

(CONTINUED)

65

MAGGIE:

It's the Good Spirit of the forest.

FELIX:

Who's been filling your head?

GRANDFATHER:

It does no harm.

FELIX:

(peers at him)

Oh, I see.

THOMAS:

Is it, Papa? Is it the Good Spirit?

Felix and Marie exchange a look. He's not as amused as she

is, but lets it go. She smiles at the children.

MARIE:

of course it is. Now finish your food before it

gets cold.

EXT - POND - DAY

Grandfather sits playing his recorder. The cow is grazing at

a distance. The Creature creeps into view, listening to the

music. Grandfather senses his presence. Turns.

GRANDFATHER:

Who's there? Felix? Children?

No response. He turns back. Unsettled. Continues playing.

INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT

The Creature watches Marie instructing the children in their

letters. A half dozen words are written in chalk on a slate

board. Maggie is trying to puzzle one out:

MAGGIE:

ff..reh..nn..nd. Friend? Friend.

MARIE:

Good! And now the next

CREATURE:

(mimicking the effort)

... freh ... nnn..nd. Freehhnnnd.

He's delighted to have uttered his first word.

EXT - WOODS - DAY

Felix is chopping lengths of wood, dulled by the task. The

(CONTINUED)

66

children are stacking the wood on a litter.

EXT - FIELD - DUSK

Felix and the children walk home. The litter of wood is

being dragged by their cow ...

EXT - HOUSE - DUSK

Felix stacks the last pile of wood under the eaves. Marie

meets him at the door, takes his hands.

MARIE:

Your hands are bleeding again. Come in. I'll rub liniment.

They go inside. The door closes. CAMERA PUSHES to the

pigsty. Eyes peering out.

EXT - WOODS - NIGHT

The Creature walks along, munching a turnip, axe slung over

his shoulder, muttering:

CREATURE:

.brread ... motherrr ... frriend ...

(stops, gazes up)

Treeeeee

EXT - HOUSE - MORNING

The walls around the house are stacked impossibly high with

cords of wood. Felix and Marie gaze out the door. Stunned.

FELIX:

What is going on here?

INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT

Snow is drifting outside the tall dormer window. We find

Victor at his desk, reading a letter:

VICTOR:

... but it's been so long since I've heard from

you. Remember the vow we took the night you left?

You must be honest with me if your feelings have

changed. Answer for the sake of our friendship,

and both our future happiness."

(pause)

She wrote that four months ago.

ANGLE SHIFTS to include Henry. He's been listening.

(CONTINUED)

67

HENRY:

A woman like that is far too rare to be taken

lightly.

Victor ponders the letter. He lays it next to the locket,

pulls out a sheet of paper and quill, begins to write ...

INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT

The Creature observes another lesson. Six more words are

chalked on the board. Thomas is struggling with the first:

THOMAS:

Ch...uur-ch. Church.

CREATURE:

Ch...uuur ... ch.

MARIE:

Good. And the next.

THOMAS:

Fl ... oww.

CREATURE:

Floww ...

And then, amazingly, the Creature finishes the word before

Thomas does:

CREATURE:

... wwer. Flower.

THOMAS:

.wer. Flower?

MARIE:

Very good! Maggie. Try the next

Now the Creature beats Maggie to the punch:

CREATURE:

Garrr ... denn. Garden.

THOMAS:

Maria! Look! It's snowing!

The children crowd to the window. The Creature turns,

peering through the slats. White flakes drift magically

down. The door flies open, the children pour out. The adults

appear in the doorway:

MARIE:

Maggie! Thomas! You'll catch your death!

(CONTINUED)

68

GRANDFATHER:

Let them play. There's plenty of wood for the

fire.

FELIX:

(shoots her a look)

He's right about that.

Before she can react, he grabs her by the waist and drags

her shrieking out into the snow. Before you know it, a wild

snowball fight ensues. Screams and laughter.

THE CREATURE watches his family cavorting in the snow,

having the time of their lives. His face lights up with a

smile. Softly:

CREATURE:

It's snnowwinng.

EXT - HOUSE - DAY

Bright sunshine sparkles off a fresh carpet of snow. Felix

and the children are heading out, spirits high. Felix has

his axe and a coil of rope slung over his shoulder.

EXT - WOODS - DAY

TRACKING Felix and the children. They're laughing and

joking, the kids playful and giggling. The Creature shadows

them, looming and darting among the trees, along for the

excursion. Happy as a kid himself.

Maggie and Thomas hurl themselves to the ground, thrashing

their arms and legs in the snow. They jump to their feet and

hurry to catch up with Felix. The Creature peers out, amazed

to see two snow-angels in the powder at his feet,

Up ahead, Maggie points to a 6-foot fir tree.

MAGGIE:

That one! It's the most beautiful tree I've ever

seen!

Felix shrugs off his coil of rope and starts chopping.

INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT

The Creature gazes through the chink in the wall, face lit

up with wonder. inside, the tree is a dazzling vision of

ornaments and light. The house is filled with joy and

laughter. Grandfather plays his recorder by a roaring fire

CREATURE:

Most beautiful ... tree ...

(CONTINUED)

69

The kids go dashing across the room. The Creature shifts to

the slats as the door opens, throwing a spill of warm light.

The children set something out in the snow. Maggie calls out

into the darkness:

MAGGIE:

Merry Christmas!

The door closes. The Creature creeps from his sty, scurries

closer to investigate. He finds a covered plate topped with

a glittering red silk flower as decoration. The slate board

is jammed in the snow. On it is chalked a child's rendering

of a glowing angel and a message:

CREATURE:

For the...Goood Spirr-rit ... of the ... Forr-

rest.

He snatches up the plate, scurries around the side of the

house, and hunkers down near the tool shed with his prize.

He plucks the red silk flower, enchanted by it, tucks it

gingerly into an inner coat pocket. He uncovers the plate to

reveal a wonderful array of Christmas cookies.

He's not sure what they are, but they don't smell half bad.

He picks one up and bites into it. He pauses, stunned, eyes

going wide as saucers. A whine builds in his throat. He

starts huffing air as he chews, mouth gaping, mind

thoroughly blown. Screw potatoes and turnips.

EXT - HOUSE - MORNING

The children race out the door to find the plate empty.. and

a big snow-angel waiting for them in the yard,

INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT

The Creature watches the family clustered around the fire.

Marie reads a book aloud:

MARIE:

... with particles of heavenly fire, the God of

Nature did his soul inspire ... and pliant still

the ethereal energy which wise Prometheus tempered

into paste ...

The Creature leans back into the shadows, grappling with the

concept of book." He reaches into the pocket of the

greatcoat, and pulls out what's been there all along:

Victor's Journal. So that's what this is. A book. He unwinds

the thong, riffles the pages. Letters fall, scattering from

the pages. He picks one up by the corner, turns his head

this way and that. Slowly:

(CONTINUED)

70

CREATURE:

Myyy Darrllnng Vic...tor ... 'Willee haaad hisss

burrth-dayyy. I wissh ... yooo cuud huvv beeen

... herre ... to sharre ut ... withh ... ussss ...

EXT - GRANDFATHER'S POND - DAY

Grandfather sits playing his recorder. Again, the Creature

approaches to listen. Grandfather stops. Turns.

GRANDFATHER:

I know you're there.

(waits for a response)

Won't you speak to me?

The Creature studies Grandfather for a time. The old man

waits. Finally starts to play again. The Creature finds a

spot to listen. He opens Victor's journal.

CAMERA PUSHES SLOWLY IN as he puzzles over it ...

INT - PIGSTY - DAY

... and we CONTINUE PUSHING SLOWLY IN as the Creature reads:

CREATURE:

... of sscience ... and to c-create ... a beinng

... in the image of man ... assembled ffrrom ...

the...dead bodieess I have ... gatherrred ...

He turns the page and discovers his own rough likeness: it's

Victor's sketch of his patchwork man." The rendering

includes suture marks where the pieces were joined.

The Creature gazes for a long time. His finger traces the

penciled suture-line where an arm joins the torso. Eyes

going wider. Revelation slowly dawning. No. It can't be.

it's too horrible to conceive ...

... and he drops the journal, clawing at his coat in a surge

of panic, wrenching it away to reveal his arm ... And the

massive suture scars Joining his shoulder to his torso in an

exact match to the drawing, He throws his head back in

an animalistic PRIMAL SCREAM, face twisted in a mask of

utter horror, Munch's painting made flesh ...

IN THE WOODS:

... and his scream echoes across the countryside-, Felix

turns from chopping wood. His family gathers, eyes wide,

listening to the sound trail off. Softly:

FELIX:

God in heaven.

(CONTINUED)

71

IN THE PIGSTY:

A massive hand rips the page from the journal, raises it in

a clenched fist.

ANGLE WIDENS to reveal the Creature huddled in a corner,

dropping his head into his arms to hide his face. Sunlight

throws streaks of light and shadow through the slats. He

sobs, wracked with despair as we

FADE TO:

EXT - VALLEY - DAY

The house is distant below. Felix and his family are heading

out across the fields now sparse with snow, herding the cow

before them. Only Grandfather is missing.

The gentle MUSIC of the recorder drifts up from the house.

ANGLE WIDENS to reveal the Creature hunkered on a hill.

watching. Waiting. The family dwindles in the distance.

INT - HOUSE - DAY

For the first time, we actually see the inside of the house

from a perspective other than through the chink in the wall.

Grandfather is by the fire, playing his recorder.

The Creature's face appears at a window. Peering in. He

ducks from view, appearing at another window. Making sure

the house is otherwise empty. He vanishes again. The door

swings silently open. His figure fills the doorway.

Grandfather stops playing. Silence.

GRANDFATHER:

Would you like to sit by the fire?

The Creature enters. Sits. Holds his hands toward the

embers, feeling the warmth.

CREATURE:

Nice.

GRANDFATHER:

The music? Or the fire?

Grandfather offers him the recorder. The Creature hesitates,

takes it, inept where such delicacy is required. He puts it

to his misshapen lips and blows a few hollow tones. He gives

it back, huffing air, delighted.

GRANDFATHER:

I'm glad you finally came to the door. A man

shouldn't have to scurry in the shadows.

(CONTINUED)

72

CREATURE:

Better that way ... for me.

GRANDFATHER:

Why?

CREATURE:

I'm ... very, very ugly. People are afraid.

Except you.

GRANDFATHER:

(smiles)

it can't be as bad as that.

CREATURE:

(soft)

Worse.

The old man-reaches for his face. The Creature draws back.

GRANDFATHER:

I can see you with my hands. If you'll trust me.

The Creature decides to trust. He eases forward. Grandfather

runs his fingers over his features. Gently:

GRANDFATHER:

You're an outcast.

CREATURE:

Yes. I have been seeking my friends.

GRANDFATHER:

Friends? Do they live around here?

CREATURE:

Yes. Very close

GRANDFATHER:

Why do you not go to them?

The Creature pauses. Emotions swirling. Afraid to continue.

CREATURE:

I have been ... afraid. Afraid ... they will hate

me...because I am so very ugly ... and they are so

very beautiful

GRANDFATHER:

(softly)

People can be kinder than you think.

CREATURE:

I am afraid,

(CONTINUED)

73

Grandfather reaches out and takes the Creature's hands.

GRANDFATHER:

Perhaps I can help. Tell me who.

The Creature is huffing air, breath hitching in his chest

like a panicking child. His monstrous eyes well up with

tears. Trying to get the words out:

CREATURE:

I love them ... so very much. I want ... I want

... them to be my ff-family. I II-Ilove them ss-so

very mm-mm-mmuch ...

The Creature pauses. Trying to get the words out. And the

door swings open. The Creature whips his head. There stands

Maggie. Eyes going wide. Breath catching in her throat. She

lets out an ear-splitting SHRIEK! The Creature throws

himself on the old man's lap, clutching him, pleading:

CREATURE:

Don't let them hate me!

Felix bursts in, shoving Maggie aside, hell breaking loose

in screaming, hollering chaos: Marie trying to get the

children out of the way, Felix throwing himself on the

Creature to rip him off the old man, the Creature sprawling

to the floor, the old man shouting, the children SHRIEKING,

Felix snatching, up the fireplace poker and swinging it

down, again and again, trying to kill the thing ...

GRANDFATHER:

Leave him alone!

... the CREATURE SCREAMING and taking the blows, writhing

across the floor in agony, the children scattering from his

pleading hands, the old ROUGH MAN dazed and shouting,

William, now 10, comes charging up the steps with a small

package under his arm, nearly bowling over Mrs. Moritz as he

sails past her hollering his head off: tugging on his arm.

the CREATURE rolls from under the brutal beating and sails

out the door.

EXT - WOODS - DAY

The Creature runs bleeding and sobbing, a specter sailing

among the trees with greatcoat billowing like huge dark

wings. Running from the horrified screams of rejection still

echoing in his mind.

EXT - WOODS - DAY

A snowscape. Stark trees. A figure in a greatcoat. Head

bowed with misery. Leaning against a tree. Trying to catch

his breath. Can't. Crying too hard. He sinks to his knees,

hands clutched bitterly to his heaving chest. Wondering why

the anguish doesn't stop his heart in mid-beat.

(CONTINUED)

74

A realization. He pulls the little red silk flower from the

inside pocket. It lies glittering in his huge, misshapen

palm like gentle magic. Or hope. Yes.

HOUSE - DUSK

The sky is brewing. The Creature runs across the courtyard

toward the house, breathless, holding his palm out. see?

Here's the flower you gave me. Don't you understand?

CREATURE:

It's me! It's mmmmeeeeee.1

Nothing. He glances around. The pigs are gone. Chickens too.

The Creature's eyes go wide. He dashes to the house

HOUSE - DUSK

... and bursts in to find it empty, Items have been scattered

and left behind. Books, clothes, even the old man's

recorder. They left in a hurry.

CREATURE:

... no

HOUSE - NIGHT

We hear furniture CRASHING, glass SHATTERING, shelves being

ripped from walls. A faint glow kicks up. Flames rise

within. The Creature exits with a flaming torch, spins back

to watch. He has new possessions: an armload of books

jammed in a satchel, some extra clothes on his body, the old

man's recorder jammed in his belt.

A HOWLING WIND whips up, billowing his coat and hair,

fanning the flames even higher. He raises his torch, HOWLING

along with the wind, reflected fire seething in his eyes,

exulting as the house is consumed ...

DISSOLVE TO:

MONT BLANC - DAY

Massive pale gray feet walking through the snow. ANGLE

WIDENING to reveal a lone, windswept figure traversing the

glacier with a walking staff. Struggling toward the crest of

a ridge. Greatcoat billowing in a freezing wind.

THE CREATURE rises from below the crest and gazes down.

Glowering with triumph at achieving his goal. Softly:

CREATURE:

Geneva.

(CONTINUED)

75

AERIAL SHOT sweeps up the slope of the glacier like the wind

itself, rising magnificently past the tiny figure standing

on the ridge, sailing up over the crest ... to reveal the

valley and lake of Geneva below.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY (SPRING)

Sunlight streams through the dormer window. Birds twitter on

the ledge outside. The trees are in bloom. Victor stands

dressed and ready to go, taking one last pensive look around

at the now-empty garret. Henry appears:

HENRY:

Our carriage is here.

EXT - INGOLSTADT CITY GATES - DAY

Bustling with activity. Hopeful. A traffic snarl is jammed

up in both directions, waiting to get in and out of the

city. People, carriages, wagons, goods. We find Professor

and MRS. KREMPE saying goodbye to Victor and Henry:

MRS. KREMPE

(watching the gates)

Such a terrible winter. I'll praise God to see

those gates open again.

KREMPE:

I'll have all your things sent on. They should

arrive soon after.

(Victor nods)

It's been a rough time, lad. For us all. But if

you'd like to come back and finish out your final

term once university re-opens ...

A ROAR goes up from the crowd. The gates are finally opening

as SOLDIERS swing them aside. The traffic starts to flow.

Victor turns back to Krempe, nods gratefully.

VICTOR:

Thank you, Professor. For everything.

Krempe is flustered as Victor gives him an awkward hug.

KREMPE:

Write and let us know you've arrived safely.

Victor breaks the embrace. He and Henry clamber into the

carriage. Softly:

(CONTINUED)

76

VICTOR:

Take me home, my friend.

Henry signals the DRIVER. The reins snap. The carriage

lurches away, easing into the flow of traffic as we

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - DAY

William, now 10, comes charging up the steps with a small

package under his arm, nearly bowling over Mrs. Moritz as he

sails past her hollering his head off:

WILLIAM:

HE'S COMING HOME!

INT - PARLOR - DAY

Willie careens into the parlor, where Elizabeth and Justine

are entertaining FRIENDS.

WILLIAM:

Elizabeth! Justine!

Father enters, trailed by HOUSEHOLD STAFF.

FATHER:

What's all the fuss? Why are you shouting?

WILLIAM:

He's coming home! Tonight!

ELIZABETH:

Who? Victor?

WILLIAM:

That's what I'm telling you!

ELIZABETH:

(swept with relief)

Thank God.

Willie thrusts the package into her hands. She hesitates

FATHER:

Open it.

Willie scrambles to bring her the letter opener. Elizabeth

lays the package down, slits it open. 'Willie peers in.

Elizabeth pulls the locket out to the admiration of all. She

presses the catch. The locket pops open to reveal Waldman's

miniature oil painting.

(CONTINUED)

77

WILLIAM:

It's Victor!

JUSTINE:

It's beautiful! May I?

(takes the locket)

He looks so handsome.

Elizabeth pulls out the letter. Apprehension and hope. She

begins to read. The others watch her. Waiting.- Her face

lights up, blinking back tears. She remembers to breathe.

FATHER:

What does it say?

ELIZABETH:

Let this locket be a token of the vow we took the

night I left.

(beat)

He's coming home to marry me.

Instant pandemonium and joy ... except from Justine, whose

heart quietly breaks. Father and the others ROAR with

approval while Willie jumps and shouts:

WILLIAM:

Married! The two of you?

FATHER:

Brilliant! I knew it! Ever since you were

children!

JUSTINE:

(softly)

That's wonderful.

She hands the locket back. She slips quietly from the room,

unnoticed by the others ...

INT - ENTRYWAY - DAY

and hurries down the hall, fighting back tears.

RESUME PARLOR as Elizabeth is swept up in congratulatory

conversation. Willie grabs the locket, admiring it:

WILLIAM:

Elizabeth? Can I take this to show Peter?

ELIZABETH:

Willie, it's not a toy for your friends.

(CONTINUED)

78

WILLIAM:

I'll take extra special care, I promise! Pete's

never seen what Victor looks like! He'll admire it

enormously!

Willie's so solemn and earnest that Elizabeth has to smile.

ELIZABETH:

Don't dawdle. It'll be dark in a few hours.

The boy takes off like a shot. Father throws his arm around

Elizabeth, announcing to all:

FATHER:

Join us for champagne! My son is coming home!

EXT - FRANKIENSTEIN ESTATE - LATE DAY

Geese scatter as Willie comes racing across the grounds. He

clambers over a low fence, heading into the miles of wooded

acreage behind the house. His favorite shortcut.

EXT - COUNTRYSIDE - LATE DAY

Willie hurries/dawdles along as kids do, the precious locket

clutched in his hands, admiring it. He can't get over the

fact that his brother's finally coming home.

He pauses, hearing FAINT TONES carried on the breeze, eerie

and flute-like. A recorder. curious, he follows the sounds

further and further into the woods ...

EXT - POND - LATE DAY

... and comes into view of the pond. There's a FIGURE

sitting half-concealed among the tall reeds, gazing off

across the water and playing his delicate wind instrument

with oddly-pleasing dissonance (again, a simple variation of

our familiar WALTZ/LOVE THEME.)

Willie draws closer. Curious. Not wanting to intrude, but

listening to the music. The figure in the reeds still hasn't

noticed him ...

... And then his head abruptly whips around, An ogre right

out of a storybook. Willie's eyes go wide. The locket drops

from his fingers into the dust. The boy turns and runs as

the monster in the reeds lunges to its feet:

CREATURE:

Wait! Don't be afraid!

(CONTINUED)

79

The boy keeps running. The Creature comes shambling up from

the pond, still calling after him. He picks up the dropped

object. As he rises, he finds himself staring at the locket.

At the small painting it contains. Victor Frankenstein. He

raises his gaze after the fleeing boy. Maybe Willie does

have reason to be afraid.

The Creature starts after him, locket clenched in his fist,

teeth grinding in greater and greater rage. Eyes wild.

THEIR FEET go pounding through the brambles and brush. The

terrified boy. The pursuing monster. Faster and faster ...

INT - FRANKENSTEIN KITCHEN - DUSK

Whirling with activity. Mrs. Moritz supervises the staff.

Elizabeth and Justine are helping with the preparations.

Justine turns with a platter, collides with one of the

kitchen staff. Carrots go flying.

MRS. MORITZ

Justine! Pay attention!

JUSTINE:

(tight)

Yes, Mother.

ELIZABETH:

(pulls her aside)

Are you all right?

JUSTINE:

(even tighter)

Fine,

Justine sees genuine concern. She softens:

JUSTINE:

I'll be all right. Really.

Father enters with Claude. Both men worried.

FATHER:

Have you seen Willie?

ELIZABETH:

is he not back yet?

FATHER:

Claude rode over there to see if held lost track

of time. They say he never arrived.

(CONTINUED)

80

ELIZABETH:

It's far too late for him to still be out.

EXT - MANSION - DUSK

Elizabeth exits with the others

CLAUDE:

Don't worry, Monsieur, we'll find him.

He rushes to gather the men. Elizabeth gazes off. Wind

kicking up. Night approaching. Almost too dark to see.

EXT - COUNTRYSIDE/WOODS - NIGHT

A massive search in progress. People are scouring the fields

on horse and on foot, shouting Willie's name. Elizabeth

enters frame, calling out:

ELIZABETH:

WILLIE!

LIGHTNING dances on the horizon. A storm approaching.

EXT - WOODED AREA - NIGHT

The stark black silhouettes of tree trunks bisect the frame

in foreground as Justine approaches from the fields, lantern

held high ...

JUSTINE:

WILLIE!

... and one of the "tree trunks" turns out not to be. It

darts abruptly across frame with a billow of flapping

greatcoat, Justine enters the woods. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING

sends shadows skittering among the trees ...

EXT - ROAD TO MANSION - NIGHT

... And the storm is now a raging downpour, TILT DOWN to

reveal a coach clattering through the rain.

INT - COACH - NIGHT

Victor is peering out the window flap.

VICTOR:

There! Look!

Henry cranes to look. A LIGHTNING FIASH stutters the mansion

briefly to life a few hundred yards down the road,

(CONTINUED)

81

HENRY:

Quite a place

VICTOR:

Thank you, Henry.

HENRY:

For what?

VICTOR:

This. My home. My family.

(softly)

If not for you, I'd be dead in a burial pit

somewhere.

Henry smiles, squeezes his shoulder. The carriage lurches

violently, tossing them forward.

EXT - COACH - NIGHT

Victor jumps from the coach as the DRIVER wrestles his

rearing horses under control and points. Victor turns.

Elizabeth stands in the downpour like a ghost. Drenched to

the bone. Weeping from the depths of her soul. Holding

Willie in her arms. The boy's arms hang limp, his head

dangles back. Victor starts forward, stunned, unable to

comprehend, running faster and faster ...

VICTOR:

Elizabeth?

... and now others are converging on the scene, dark

screaming figures in the storm. Victor reaches her first as

the others crowd around in a panic of confusion, crushing

and jostling as she collapses into Victor's arms, all of

them cradling Willie to the

... and then Father is there, shoving his way through, -

seeing his dead boy and collapsing in the muck with a

SCRF.AM, and suddenly Henry is there shouting for the men to

lift him and everybody is scrambling and screaming as we

SMASH CUT TO:

INT - MANSION - FATHER'S BEDROOM - MORNING

Silence. All we hear now is the SOFT TICKING of a clock.

Henry tenderly ministers to Father, who lies gravely ill.

INT - PARLOR - MORNING

Elizabeth is sitting. Elbows crossed. Holding herself

together. Face ashen. Dazed. Still in shock. Mrs. Moritz is

nearby, looking much the same. Eyes swimming with tears.

(CONTINUED)

82

MRS. MORITZ

Sir. I'm terrified for my girl.

VICTOR:

(softly)

We'll organize another search now that it's light

enough. We'll find her, Mrs. Moritz, I promise.

Henry comes downstairs. He and Victor confer in whispers

then approach Elizabeth. Victor crouches before her.

ELIZABETH:

What is Father's outlook?

HENRY:

I am cautiously hopeful. With quiet and proper

care he may eventually regain some or most of his

strength.

Victor squeezes her hand. Comfort and strength.

ELIZABETH:

Thank you, Henry.

There's a KNOCKING at the front door.

INT - ENTRYWAY - MORNING

Victor opens the door. POLICEMEN hover outside. Faces grim

POLICEMAN #1

Mr. Frankenstein. We've apprehended the murderer. Not five

miles from here, hiding in a barn.

VICTOR:

Who is it?

The policemen trade uneasy glances.

POLICEMAN #2

it's very unsettling, sir. And quite strange.

Perhaps you'd better come with us.

INT - JAIL CELL - DAY

Victor is led in by policemen. The JAILER unlocks the cell.

Victor enters as the men depart. Victor is alone, staring at

a FIGURE huddled in the corner, pooled in shadow. We get the

impression of long, dangling hair. The figure stirs ...

FEMALE VOICE:

Victor?

(CONTINUED)

83

... and leans into the light. Justine. Pale. Dazed. Scared

JUSTINE:

Victor! It's you! Thank God!

She rushes to him, throws herself into his arms. He reacts

stiffly, not at all sure he wants her touching him.

JUSTINE:

Is it true? What they say about Willie? Is it

true?

VICTOR:

Yes

She dissolves into tears. Barely able to breathe.

JUSTINE:

Willie. My poor little angel.

(looks up)

Victor! They think I did it!

VICTOR:

Did you?

Justine pauses. Stunned. Her eyes on his. Here's the deepest

betrayal ever experienced. Her heart turns to ash.

JUSTINE:

(low)

I don't believe ... I am in need of your comfort

... anymore.

VICTOR:

(a whisper)

Did you, Justine?

Beat. She hauls off and slaps him hard enough to rock his

head around. Then she slaps him again. Harder.

JUSTINE:

Get out!

INT - COURTROOM - DAY

The courtroom is packed. Justine sits accused. An older

KITCHEN MAID is on the stand.

KITCHEN MAID:

I found her sobbing her eyes out.

Poor thing, I said, what's all this? And she spilled her

heart to me about Master Victor. How she'd always loved him,

and now he was coming home to marry mistress Elizabeth.

(CONTINUED)

84

A MURMUR sweeps the courtroom. Victor and Elizabeth share a

stunned glance.

KITCHEN MAID:

She cried and cried about the beautiful locket

held sent. How she wished it was hers. She swore

me never to tell a soul.

(peers at Justine)

That was before the boy went missing, a'course.

INT - COURTROOM - DAY

Victor is on the stand:

VICTOR:

I always viewed her with brotherly affection. I

had no idea of her feelings for me.

PROSECUTOR:

Rejection can be a powerful wound. People have

been known to do uncanny things.

VICTOR:

But to commit so ghastly and terrible a crime

against a child she loved?

Victor pauses, gnawed by some vague intuition. He looks to

Justine. She gazes back, her feelings hidden. Softly:

VICTOR:

It's hard to believe.

INT - COURTROOM - DAY

Elizabeth is on the stand:

ELIZABETH:

Justine and I grew up as sisters. I know her

better than anybody.

DEFENDING COUNSEL

Do you think it possible she committed this

crime?

ELIZABETH:

William was as much her child as mine. We were

both mother to him,

(beat)

I believe she would sooner have strangled the

life from her own body.

(CONTINUED)

85

DEFENDING COUNSEL

Then you consider the charge without merit.

ELIZABETH:

I consider the charge imbecilic.

INT - COURT ROOM - DAY

Justine is now on the stand:

JUSTINE:

Yes. I took refuge in the barn. Wouldn't you?

Lost in the storm? Freezing and wet? I was

exhausted and could search no longer.

PROSECUTOR:

And is it true, Miss Moritz, that you love Victor

Frankenstein? That your heart was broken?

(off her silence)

Answer the question. Do you love Victor

Frankenstein?

Her gaze wanders to Victor, eyes locking on his. stares

back, trapped.

JUSTINE:

I have always loved him.

PROSECUTOR:

Is it also not true that you murdered his brother

William in a misdirected crime of passion?

JUSTINE:

Murder Willie? In my heart, he was our child.

Victor's and mine. Such

a thing could never have entered my mind.

PROSECUTOR:

So you have claimed. Yet you have no explanation

for this.

(holds up the locket)

The locket last seen in the hands of the poor

murdered child was found hidden in your dress the

morning following the murder. The locket you so

coveted.

(leans close)

How did it come to be in your possession?

(CONTINUED)

86

JUSTINE:

I have no knowledge of that.

EXT - FIELD - DAY

A PAIR OF FEET drop heavily in frame. THUMP-CRACK! A shoe

flies off. The CROWD gasps. Mrs. Moritz collapses WAILING to

the ground. Elizabeth drops to her side to comfort her.

Victor just stands staring. ANGLE WIDENS to reveal Justine

dangling from the noose, neck broken, hands bound and feet

still twitching.

EXT - SAME FIELD - NIGHT

Another eerie echo of before: a storm is raging. The body

dangles from the scaffold, lashed by wind and rain. Victor

looms from the darkness, staring.

And then a massive white hand thrusts into frame and grabs

his shoulder. Victor whirls and finds himself staring up

into the last face he ever expected to see again, the

hideous necrotic features bathed in a purple/white GLARE OF

LIGHTNING. He SCREAMS as the Creature lashes out, grabs him

by the coat, draws him breathlessly closer, inch by inch,

eyeball-to-eyeball, grinning his awful rictus grin. Softly:

CREATURE:

Frankenstein.

Victor is speechless with horror. The Creature raises his

arm, pointing with an impossibly long and bony finger. Look

there. Victor does. LIGHTNING dances in the sky,

illuminating Mont Blanc with a crackling halo of electricity

... and then the Creature is gone, vanishing like a shadow

in the darkness. Victor falls gasping. The awful truth

dawning. He rises, gazing at the scaffold, horrified.

VICTOR:

Oh God. Oh God! No! NOOOOOOO!

Screaming now, rushing to the scaffold, throwing his arms

around the innocent girl dangling there, sliding down,

sinking to his knees, weeping helplessly:

VICTOR:

Oh God. Justine. Forgive me.

INT - MANSION - STUDY - DAWN

Victor pulls a carved box from a shelf. open.-, it. Lying

inside in their velvet cradle are a gorgeous pair of Model

1820 Collier flintlock revolvers.

(CONTINUED)

87

MANSION - DAWN

Victor is bundled in a rough coat, packing final supplies on

a horse held by Claude. Elizabeth is at his heels.

VICTOR:

My mind was not playing tricks. He was there in

the storm ... gloating over his crimes ...

challenging me to come.

ELIZABETH:

But why risk yourself? Hasn't this family

suffered enough?

VICTOR:

I've no choice

ELIZABETH:

If what you say is true, it is a matter for the

police!

VICTOR:

They've done a fine job. Hanging an innocent for

the crime of a fiend.

He rams the rifle into its scabbard, turns to her.

ELIZABETH:

(softly)

Do you know this man? Is there something between

you?

VICTOR:

I know only that he is a killer. And I shall

bring back his carcass.

Victor heaves himself into the saddle and rides off. TILT UP

to the mountain. Shrouded in snow. Waiting.

MONT BLANC - DAY

A lone horse and rider appear. on his mission of revenge ...

Victor ascends the mountain The mountain is brutal and

unforgiving. Victor dismounts, leading his horse onto the

glacier. A bitter wind blows ...

They plod on. Searching. magnificent rugged vistas unfolding

before our eyes. Primeval and vast ...

The horse suddenly spooks. Victor calms him. Staring. Is

that a figure down there? He shades his eyes against the

cutting sleet. Somebody in the distance. Down there on the

snow field. A tiny speck. Watching him.

(CONTINUED)

88

The figure starts running, leaping across the ice with great

bounds. Right toward Victor. Victor wrenches the carved box

from the saddle bag. The horse bolts. Victor drops to the

snow, throws open the box, frantically snatches up the pair

of revolvers.

He glances up. The figure is gone, vanished in drifts of

white. Victor rises with a revolver in each hand, cocks the

flintlocks of both, turning slowly around. Gazing at the

rocks and crags. Searching.

VICTOR:

WHERE ARE YOU?

He hears nothing but his own voice echoing back ... and then

FEET CRUNCHING through the snow. He turns. The Creature is

running toward him across the glacier with inhuman speed,

greatcoat billowing like huge dark wings.

Victor raises the first pistol. Hesitates. As frightened and

angry as he is, a small part of him pauses to admire the

achievement of actually having created life.

He pulls the trigger. BOOM! A huge flash of powder, an

eruption of smoke. The Creature dodges the shot, still

coming. Victor raises the other gun. BOOM! Another flash of

smoke. Still the Creature comes.

Victor. Frantic. Manually spinning the cylinders, cocking,

firing. BOOM! A miss. BOOM! Another miss. Spinning. cocking.

Firing. BOOM! BOOM! Spinning. Cocking...

... And the Creature is on him, slapping the pistols clean

out of his hands. The guns sail through the air, spinning

off across the ice. Victor panics, turns to run ... And

slips over the edge of the precipice.

Victor falls SCREAMING, arms and legs windmilling through a

30-foot drop ... and slams bodily into a snowdrift. He looks

up. The Creature is peering down ... and leaps over The edge

to follow, sailing through the air to land before him in a

cat-like crouch. He pulls Victor from the snow and sends him

sliding across the ice with a mighty heave ...

INT - ICE CAVE - DAY

... right into the mouth of an ice- cave, Victor comes

tumbling and sliding down the entrance, spinning and

careening to sprawl heavily to the cave floor.

Winded. Battered. Barely able to move. He glances up to see

the cave filled with possessions. Books. Provisions. Extra

clothing. The embers of a fire burn low. There is even a

rough attempt at furnishings in the form of a few crates.

(CONTINUED)

89

A huge shadow fills the cave entrance. The storybook ogre is

coming home to his cave, breath huffing like a steam engine.

Victor scrambles back terrified, pressing into a corner as

the Creature enters ...

... but the Creature merely crosses to the fire and hunkers

down. He tosses a few more sticks on the flames. Pause.

CREATURE:

Come warm yourself if you like.

VICTOR:

You speak.

CREATURE:

Yes, I speak. And read. And think ... and know

the ways of Man

(pause)

I've been waiting for you. Two months now.

VICTOR:

How did you find me?

The Creature grabs Victor's journal off the "shelf." He

unwinds the thong, the letters spill out.

CREATURE:

The letters in your journal. That and a geography

book.

(picks up a letter)

Your Elizabeth sounds lovely.

VICTOR:

Kill me and have done with it

CREATURE:

Kill you? Hardly that.

VICTOR:

Then why am I here? What did you want with me?

CREATURE:

More to the point, why am I here? What did you

want with Me?

(off Victor's look)

What does one say to one's Maker, having finally

met Him face to face? Milton gave it voice.

(grabs a book, thumbs to a certain

page)

Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay to mould

me Man? Did I solicit thee from Darkness to

promote me?

(CONTINUED)

90

VICTOR:

Fine words from a child killer. You who murdered

my brother.

CREATURE:

Your crime ... as well as mine.

VICTOR:

How dare you. You're disgusting and evil.

CREATURE:

Evil?

(scurries closer)

Do you believe in evil?

VICTOR:

I see it before me.

CREATURE:

I'm not sure I believe. But then I had no one to

instruct me. I had no mother ... and my father

abandoned me at birth.

He draws closer still. Intimate. Turning his head this way

and that. Puzzling at Victor's face. Softly:

CREATURE:

Were the dying cries of your brother music in my

ears?

He raises his hand before Victor's eyes, bony fingers

curling to clutch an invisible throat. Victor is petrified

CREATURE:

I took him by the throat with one hand... lifted

him off the ground. and slowly crushed his neck.

(emotion growing)

That poor, innocent child died in my grip ...

because all I could see was your face ... and all

I could feel was my rage. And when I let him go,

he fluttered to the grass like a sparrow...

FLASHBACK INSERT: FIELD

The Creature gazes down at Willie's body. He stares at the

hand that committed the crime as if waking from a dream.

Tears welling. overcome with shame and horror.

He falls to knees in the middle of the vast field, his wail

echoing across the countryside as he weeps over the boy.

(CONTINUED)

91

RESUME ICE CAVE:

Victor stares in horror as the Creature relates his story

with tears shining in his monstrous eyes.

CREATURE:

Later, when they were searching, I followed the

pretty lady who got lost in the woods...

FLASHBACK INSERT: - BARN

Justine is asleep in the hay. Haggard, wet, exhausted. The

Creature looms over her, a monstrous shape backlit by the

lightning, gazing on her beauty. His hand reaches down,

hovering reverently, wishing to caress the swell of her

breasts at the neckline of her bodice ...

CREATURE (V.O.)

She was so lovely. I longed to touch her ... and

seek her sympathy ...

The locket drops from his hand to dangle in his fingers. He

lowers it, tucking it gently away in her pocket

CREATURE (V.O.)

... but I simply returned the object which had

triggered my crime, hoping in some small way to

atone ...

RESUME ICE CAVE:

Now tears are shining in victor's eyes as well.

CREATURE:

You gave me these emotions, but you didn't tell

me how to use them. Now two people are dead.

Because of us.

Victor is crushed by remorse. A sob escapes him.

CREATURE:

Why, Victor? Why? What were you thinking?

VICTOR:

There was something at work in my soul which I do

not understand.

CREATURE:

What of my soul? Do I have one? or was that a

part you left out?

(spreads his hands)

Who were these people of which I am comprised?

Good people? Bad people?

(CONTINUED)

92

VICTOR:

Materials. Nothing more.

CREATURE:

You're wrong. Do you know I knew how to play

this?

He grabs up the recorder, plays a brief snatch of melody.

CREATURE:

In which part of me did this knowledge reside? In

these hands? in this mind? In this heart?

(beat)

And reading and speaking. Not things learned ...

so much as things remembered.

VICTOR:

Trace memories in the brain, perhaps.

CREATURE:

Stolen memories. Stolen and hazy. They taunt me

in my dreams. live seen a beautiful woman lying

back and beckoning for me to love her. Whose woman

was this? I've seen boys playing, splashing about

in a stream. Whose childhood friends were these?

(soft, intense)

Who am I?

VICTOR:

(hollow)

I don't know.

CREATURE:

Then perhaps I believe in evil after all.

The Creature moves off. Victor is emotionally exhausted

VICTOR:

What can I do?

CREATURE:

There is something I want.

(pause)

A friend.

VICTOR:

Friend?

(CONTINUED)

93

CREATURE:

A companion. A female. Like me, so she won't hate

me.

VICTOR:

Like you? Oh, God, you don't know what you're

asking.

CREATURE:

I do know that for the sympathy of one living

being, I would make peace with all.

(beat)

I have love in me the likes of which you can

scarcely imagine. And rage the likes of which you

would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I

will demonically indulge the other. That choice is

yours.

(off his look)

You're the one who set this in motion,

Frankenstein.

VICTOR:

And if I consent?

CREATURE:

We'd travel north, my bride and I. To the

furthest reaches of the Pole, where no man has

ever set foot. There we would live out our lives.

Together.

(beat)

No human eye would ever see us again. This I vow.

PUSHING SLOWLY IN on Victor. Considering it. Beaten.

EXT - MONT BLANC GLACIER - NEXT MORNING

Victor is calming his skittish horse as the Creature looms

into view. Victor turns. The Creature tosses Victor his

journal. Victor hesitates, jams it into his saddlebag.

CREATURE:

Soon?

VICTOR:

Yes. I want this over and done with.

CREATURE:

I'll be waiting. And watching.

(CONTINUED)

94

And with that, the Creature turns and scrambles back down

the nearly-vertical cliff face, leaping from crags and

boulders with superhuman agility. Victor watches him vanish

from sight.

EXT - MONT BLANC - DAY

Victor descends the mountain, heading back to civilization.

EXT - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - DAY

Victor walks his horse toward the house. Elizabeth rushes

out to meet him with Henry and Claude. Victor hands off the

reins to the STABLEBOY and embraces Elizabeth tightly.

ELIZABETH:

I thought I'd never see you again!

VICTOR:

I'm all right. I'm safe,

HENRY:

What happened up there?

VICTOR:

I didn't find what I was looking for.

CLAUDE:

What did you find?

Victor glances over. Claude has pulled the Collier pistols

from the saddlebags and caught a strong whiff of powder.

CLAUDE:

These have been fired,

VICTOR:

At shadows. My nerves got the better of me.

Victor walks on toward the house with Elizabeth

EXT - GARDEN - DAY

... and we find them in discussion by the fountain:

ELIZABETH:

What sort of task?

VICTOR:

It's not something I can explain now. Perhaps

someday.

(CONTINUED)

95

ELIZABETH:

What of our marriage? Victor, we've had so much

tragedy. I want this family to live again.

VICTOR:

So do I.

ELIZABETH:

We need each other now, I need your comfort and

strength, not separation and solitude.

VICTOR:

A month at most, that's all I ask.

(draws close)

Elizabeth, please. Things have not yet resolved.

I must take steps to see that they do. For our

family's sake. For our sake.

(caresses her face)

You are life itself. We shall seal our vow. The

moment I am done.

He leans forward to kiss her ... and pauses, hearing the

distant MUSIC of a recorder echoing from the hills ...

INT - BEDROOM - DAY

Victor sits at bedside, holding Father's hand. The old man

is a weak and frail shadow of his former self.

VICTOR:

You must regain your strength to preside at our wedding ...

and spoil your grandchildren later on. These are duties you

cannot shirk.

Father smiles faintly.

Victor squeezes his hand, whispers:

VICTOR:

We're all safe now. I promise

INT - MANSION ATTIC - DAY

Murky and dark. Victor enters, yanks a dusty curtain off a

window to let in some daylight. He picks up a pry bar,

approaches a stack of crates as if facing an old adversary.

one in particular is quite large. He rams the bar into the

wood, prying it open ... and CAMERA PUSHES IN to reveal a

dull gleam of copper lurking within the packing straw.

VICTOR:

God forgive me.

(CONTINUED)

96

MONTAGE:

victor assembles his equipment, recreating the lab; Bolting

together the sarcophagus, now resting in its cradle. Hanging

the huge glass tube, adjusting the boom. Installing the

ceiling tracks and hoist mechanism. Playing out the copper

wire along the ceiling beams. Hooking up the galvanic

batteries and generators. Testing the electrical circuit

with goggles and thick gloves, getting a huge cascade of

sparks ...

HENRY (O.S.)

I prayed never to see these again ...

Victor turns. Henry stands in the doorway.

HENRY:

Whatever they are

Henry enters, runs his hand over the gleaming surface of the

sarcophagus, circles toward Victor.

HENRY:

I won't bother asking what or why. You wouldn't

tell me anyway. I just hope you know what you're

doing ...

(draws close)

... because if this is a repeat of Ingolstadt, I

won't be around to pick up the pieces.

CAMERA PUSHES PAST to the Da Vinci print on the wall,

contact points still daubed with red ...

EXT - CEMETERY - NIGHT

CAMERA DRIFTS among the tombstones to reveal an eerie sight:

SOMEONE hunched in a grave, digging madly, dirt flying. We

hear the THUNK of a shovel hitting wood

INT - COFFIN - NIGHT

... and the lid wrenches aside to reveal the Creature. He

peers down at us, almost close enough to kiss.

EXT - FRANKENSTEIN MANSION - ANGLE FROM ROOF - NIGHT

The Creature nimbly climbs the outer wall, fingers grasping

the brickwork, a dark shape slung over his shoulder. He

(CONTINUED)

97

pauses as a PAIR OF STABLEHANDS pass far below. He pulls

himself onto the roof, crosses the gables, and pushes open a

dormer window. We see Victor inside as it swings open. The

Creature enters with his prize ...

INT - ATTIC - NIGHT

... and the mottled corpse of Justine Moritz flops onto the

table before us.

TILT UP to:

CREATURE:

I want her

Victor stares down in utter horror. Her cold, dead face.

Blue lips already beginning to shrivel. Purple, sunken eyes.

Knowing that she loved him. Knowing it's his fault she's

dead. He can barely get the words out:

VICTOR:

Why ... her?

CREATURE:

Her body pleases me.

That's it for Victor. He turns away, stomach heaving. It's

all he can do to keep from throwing up.

CREATURE:

Materials, remember? Nothing more. Your words.

Victor hesitates, pulling himself together. Softly:

VICTOR:

My words

He turns back, forcing himself to examine the body, trying

not to view it as someone he knows. He cradles the head,

probing the back of the neck with his fingers.

VICTOR:

The brain stem was destroyed by the hanging.

We'll need another. The body looks like it will

do, but some extremities are too decayed. They'll

have to be replaced. The fresher the better.

EXT - ALLEY - RED LIGHT DISTRICT - NIGHT

Outside the back door of a rowdy tavern, we find a

PROSTITUTE servicing a SAILOR in the alley: he's got her

pressed against the wall, skirt hiked up. It's not long

before he's finished. Off he goes, staggering back into the

(CONTINUED)

98

bar. She arranges her skirt, tucking the money away ... and

pauses, noticing a TALL FIGURE in the shadows. Staring. She

approaches with her best saucy smile:

PROSTITUTE:

Want some yourself? or just like to watch?

(draws close)

What do you say, lover? I can make it good for

you.

The Creature leans into the light, clamps a massive hand to

her mouth. His other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her

off the ground. She gazes up, eyes wide, screams muffled in

his palm. Softly:

CREATURE:

I know you can

And he wrenches his arm, snapping her spine,

INT - ATTIC - NIGHT

The dead prostitute lies staring up, dried blood staining

her mouth. TILT UP to Victor gazing down in horror.

VICTOR:

What is this?

CREATURE:

A brain. Extremities.

VICTOR:

This was not taken from a grave.

CREATURE:

What does it matter? She'll live again. You'll

make her.

VICTOR:

No. I draw the line.

The Creature lashes out and drags Victor across the table.

CREATURE:

You will honor your promise to me!

VICTOR:

(through gritted teeth)

I will not! Kill me now!

CREATURE:

That is mild compared to what will come. If you

deny me my wedding night. I'll be with you on

yours.

(CONTINUED)

99

The Creature vanishes out the attic window into the night.

Victor is left gasping for air, staring at the dead

prostitute. The full horror sinking in.

INT - ATTIC STAIRCASE - MORNING

Victor slams the attic door, securing it with a massive

padlock. He hurries down the steps.

INT - GRAND BALLROOM - DAY

Victor and Elizabeth, intensity flying:

VICTOR:

No. Not tomorrow, not next week, Marry me today.

ELIZABETH:

Why the change? What about your work?

VICTOR:

It was misguided and pointless. is your answer

yes?

ELIZABETH:

It is

VICTOR:

We'll leave this afternoon, right after the

ceremony. Pack only what you need.

ELIZABETH:

Does this have something to do with that man you

saw?

VICTOR:

(hesitates)

Yes. We're in danger here. Every moment we stay.

ELIZABETH:

Victor, tell me why! Trust me!

VICTOR:

I do. But you must trust me for now.

INT - BEDROOM - DAY

A small ceremony has been hurriedly organized at Father's

bedside. The old man holds Elizabeth's hand. Softly:

(CONTINUED)

100

FATHER:

This is not ... the grand wedding...I had hoped

to give you ...

He releases her hand, giving the bride away. She takes her

place at Victor's side. Henry stands as best man. The PRIEST

faces them:

PRIEST:

We gather now in the sight of God to witness this

man and woman bond their lives in matrimonial vow

EXT - MANSION - DAY

Elizabeth gets in the coach. Claude clambers up to the

driver's seat armed with a rifle, ready to pull out. EIGHT

MEN on horseback provide armed escort. Victor addresses the

men staying behind, all of whom are also armed:

VICTOR:

Be especially on your guard. Stay cautious to a

fault.

STABLE HAND:

Who is this man, sir? How shall we know him?

VICTOR:

He is huge and deformed ... and quite insane.

CLAUDE:

He killed Master William and sent Justine Moritz

to the noose! No hesitation, lads! Shoot the

bastard on sight!

CRIES of assent.

Victor pulls Henry aside:

VICTOR:

Are you sure you'll be all right?

HENRY:

Yes, don't worry. I'll look after your father.

You look after her.

VICTOR:

I'll be back as soon as I've got her far away and

safe. We'll hunt this fiend down together.

HENRY:

only if you'll tell me who he is.

(CONTINUED)

101

VICTOR:

(hesitates)

I owe you that. Done.

A quick embrace. Victor leaps into the coach.

ANGLE FROM FATHER'S BEDROOM WINDOW

The coach clatters up the road, trailed by the eight

horsemen. Those left behind scatter across the courtyard.

Henry turns and walks back toward the house. ANGLE WIDENS to

reveal the Creature at the window. In the bed behind him,

The old man stirs, opening his eyes

FATHER:

Victor?

... and sees the Creature turn toward him. Father's eyes go

wide as his final stroke is triggered. His life ends with a

prolonged death-rattle ... and a soft exhale. The Creature

reaches down, closes his eyes. A tender gesture.

A LOUD GASP. The Creature whirls. There stands the priest,

dropping his tea to the floor. The Creature sweeps across

the room, presses him against the wall.

PRIEST:

(breathless with horror)

You're the Devil himself.

CREATURE:

Yes, and I've come to snatch your soul ...

(leans close)

... unless you tell me where they've gone.

EXT - LAKE GENEVA - DUSK

A magnificent sunset bathes the mountains as storm clouds

roll in. A ferry is crossing the lake, moving away from us,

rippling the water. TILT DOWN to reveal ...

EXT - FERRY DOCK - DUSK

Claude trotting to the window of the coach.

CLAUDE:

That was the last ferry. There's nothing else

till morning.

(CONTINUED)

102

VICTOR:

Damn it

CLAUDE:

We'll ride on ahead and secure you lodging for

the night.

EXT - RESORT - NIGHT

A big chalet nestled in the woods by the lake. The storm is

raging. Claude and his men are positioned at the entrances.

VICTOR:

Make sure you keep your pistols dry

GUARD #2

They're dry enough. And if they fail, we've

others. And if those fail ...

(draws his saber halfway)

... we can always gut the bastard.

CLAUDE:

Don't worry, sir. You're well guarded. Now why

don't you go upstairs to your wife? It's not often

a man has his wedding night.

INT - BRIDAL SUITE - NIGHT

Victor enters to find the room aglow with dozens of candles.

Elizabeth turns from the fireplace, her body silhouetted

through the sheer white nightgown.

ELIZABETH:

You're soaking.

She approaches, peels off his coat. Victor stares at her,

awe-struck. She sees the look in his eyes, crosses her arms

demurely ... then laughs at her own modesty.

ELIZABETH:

Brother and sister no more.

VICTOR:

Now husband and wife.

He strokes her bare shoulders with his fingertips

VICTOR:

I remember the first time I ever saw you.

Crossing the floor of the grand ballroom with my

parents at. your side. So beautiful even then.

(CONTINUED)

103

ELIZABETH:

(a whisper)

I have been waiting for this ever since.

She leans up and gives him a kiss that would melt glass,

triggering the sexiest seduction imaginable ...

... kissing, caressing, Victor stripping off his wet shirt,

CAMERA DRIFTING around them in slow circles, candles

spinning like a fever that's been building for a lifetime

... and now onto the bed. Magnificent and canopied. Kneeling

together, bodies touching, hands seeking, mouths joining ...

Elizabeth lying back, beckoning for him to love her. Victor

sinking down, running his hands up her thighs, peeling up

the nightgown, making her shudder with desire...

... and a SHOT FIRES. Victor jerks up. He can hear SHOUTING.

He rolls off the bed, snatching up both pistols lying primed

and ready on the nightstand.

ELIZABETH:

Victor!

VICTOR:

open this door for no-one!

EXT - CHALET - NIGHT

Victor sails past the GUARD at the entrance, brandishing his

pistols. The men converge, shouting in the rain:

GUARD #2

I saw him in a flash of lightning! He vanished

toward the lake!

CLAUDE:

Get after him!

Several men race off in pursuit. TILT UP from Victor and

Claude ... as a FLASH OF LIGHTNING reveals the Creature

clinging in the branches above their heads with a malevolent

smile. He scurries silently up, further and further into

the tree ... closer and closer to the balcony.

INT - BRIDAL SUITE - NIGHT

Elizabeth. Tense and waiting. A shadow looms across the

balcony ... spilling through the French doors ... onto the

floor ... a bony hand reaches for the latch ...

The doors burst open on a crust of wind and rain, Elizabeth

spins as candles blow out all over the room. The Creature

(CONTINUED)

104

enters, massive and unseen, gliding in shadow. Softly:

CREATURE:

Don't bother to scream.

EXT - CHALET - NIGHT

The men come running back from the lake. They stop before

Victor and Claude.

GUARD #3

We lost him.

and GUARD #4's eyes drift up:

GUARD #4

Why are those open?

Victor spins, gazing up. Breath catching in his throat. The

French doors are swaying in the wind.

VICTOR:

Elizabeth.

INT - BRIDAL SUITE - NIGHT

Elizabeth watches, transfixed, as the huge shadow moves

inexorably toward her. Her eyes dart toward the door. She

makes a break for it. He catches her halfway across the

room, spinning her around by the arm. Her face is lit by

the light of the fireplace.

The Creature pauses, stunned at her beauty. A moment passes

between them. She senses the softening in his heart. She

peers at him, trying to understand. Realizing:

ELIZABETH:

You don't want to hurt me.

He averts his gaze, shamed by her beauty.

CREATURE:

You're more lovely than I could ever have

imagined.

FOOTSTEPS come pounding up the stairs. A HEAVY CRASH of men

throwing their shoulders at the door...

VICTOR:

ELIZABETH!

... and it changes back in an instant, The Creature snarls.

She tries to wrench away. He spins her around so he won't

have to look at her in the light, casting her face in

(CONTINUED)

105

shadow. He cooks his arm back and plunges his fist toward

her chest with pile-driver force ...

INT - LANDING (OUTSIDE ROOM) - NIGHT

... and her SCREAM is cut short.-The men give one last mighty

rush at the door ...

INT - BRIDAL SUITE - NIGHT

... and they burst in just in time to see Elizabeth cascade

back onto the bed, her chest a massive red stain. The

Creature whips toward them, fist glistening with blood ...

CREATURE:

I keep my promises.

... and he races across the room as the men OPEN FIRE,

shredding the walls to splinters with an explosive fusillade

of shots. But the Creature is too fast. He hits the leaded

window head-on with the force of an anvil ...

EXT - CHALET - NIGHT

... and goes sailing out into empty space in a hurricane of

shattering glass. He drops 40 feet to the grass below and

vanishes like the breeze, greatcoat whipping into darkness.

INT - BRIDAL SUITE - NIGHT

Victor rushes to the bad and lets loose the most PRIMAL

SCREAM OF ALL. He sweeps his limp, murdered bride into his

arms, cradling her to his breast, screams trailing off into

wracking moans and sobs of despair:

VICTOR:

(softly)

oh God ... he took her heart...he took her heart

from me ...

EXT - CHALET - NIGHT

The men make way as Victor carries his dead wife through the

downpour. He puts her in the coach. Dazed.

EXT - ROAD - NIGHT

The coach comes racing through the storm, the horses in a

frenzy, faster and faster.

EXT - MANSION - NIGHT

Victor whipping the coach veers to a wild stop. Victor jumps

down, gathers up the body, and mounts the steps. Henry

appears, rushing out into the rain. Victor goes right past

him ...

(CONTINUED)

106

MANSION - NIGHT

... and carries Elizabeth through the silent halls.

ATTIC - NIGHT

The door swings in. Victor stands dripping. Holding

Elizabeth. Gazing at the gleam of copper ...

MONTAGE:

And we launch into the final throbbing madness. Victor

hacking and chopping. Discarding pieces. Sewing the

creation, yanking the catgut tight. Ramming the needles

deep. Hoisting the body in the air. Slamming the

sarcophagus lid, tightening the bolts. Powering up the

galvanic circuit, throwing the switch.

Screaming at God as the LIGHTNING FLASHES and the body

convulses. Wind and rain sweeping through the lab, battering

a window open and shut, open and shut. Lowering the glass

tube, ramming phallus into womb. Releasing the eels, huge

black sperm squirming and writhing toward the spasming egg

The body. Convulsing. Lashing. Screaming in the copper womb.

Hair whipping in the fluid ...

Victor shuts down the machinery. He opens the tank and

reaches into the fluid with his thick rubber gloves. He

pulls out his creation, cradling the head and neck as one

would cradle a newborn infant's ...

... And wipes the muck away with his glove to reveal

Elizabeth's face, Massive suture marks bisect her neck and

collarbone where pieces were joined. A whisper:

VICTOR:

Live.

Her eyes flies open as consciousness hits, mouth gaping to

draw air but finding fluid in the lungs. She erupts,

thrashing in the vat. He clutches her tight, pounding her

back to start her breathing, calming the convulsing

Creaturess with soft murmured words of tenderness and love

as her lungs heave violently to dispel the fluid ...

(CONTINUED)

107

He lifts her gently out. Wipes off the muck as she shivers

and shakes, spasms easing off. Cleansing her face. Clasping

her hand in his. Comfort and strength ...

Helping her to her feet. Jerky and unsure. Lean on me.

Replacing the sheer nightgown on her scarred and naked body,

draping it ... and finally, exhaustingly, tilting her chin

up with his fingers to gaze into her eyes. A whisper:

VICTOR:

Say my name.

Blank. Dazed. Stunned. Not a flicker of recognition.

VICTOR:

Elizabeth. Say my name. Say you remember. Say my

name.

Nothing. He leans forward ... and kisses her dead lips.

Gentle as a sigh. A flicker in her eyes?

VICTOR:

You must. You must.

Maybe his imagination. Still whispering:

VICTOR:

Say my name. Say you remember

And slowly ... ever so slowly ... she raises her bony white

hand before her eyes ... staring at it ... trying to puzzle

it out ... its meaning ... perhaps the vaguest shred of

recognition ... and the hand continues to rise ... creeping

slowly toward his shoulder ... and coining to rest there. He

smiles, blinking back tears ...

VICTOR:

Yes. I'll help you remember,

... and he takes her other hand in his. At first it's

imperceptible...just the slightest motion, perhaps nothing,

perhaps just a shift of balance ... and then it grows into

the vaguest sway ... and tears are glistening in Victor's

eyes as she begins to move. Lurching. Faltering. Unsure.

You must lead, Victor. The lady will always look to you for

guidance, so your steps must be sure and strong.

Trace memories.

A waltz.

And here we are treated to the most sweepingly romantic and

hair-raisingly demented image of the film: Frankenstein

dances with his dead bride, showing her the way, begging

(CONTINUED)

108

her to remember, please remember, and now our WALTZ/LOVE

THEME really comes back to haunt us as the MUSIC SWELLS,

incredibly lush and deranged, dissonant and echoing through

Victor's head, music only he can hear ...

VICTOR:

... one-two-three, twirl-two-three.

... and the worst part? The very worst thing of all? There

on the shelf. A large formaldehyde jar. Justine's severed

head. Watching them through the glass with dead, sightless

eyes. Watching them dance. Still a wallflower? No. She's

finally finishing her dance with Victor ... most of her,

anyway. Under the circumstances, it'll have to do ...

... and the waltz goes on, madder and madder, sweeping in

glorious circles as a dazzling array of LIGHTNING bathes

them in its wild, jittering spotlight, shadows careening

across the walls, INSANE MUSIC swelling louder and louder,

climbing higher and higher, reaching toward its crescendo

with jagged glass claws ...

... and it all screeches to a stop as the door bursts in.

Music echoes abruptly away into silence. Nothing now but

rain and distant thunder. In the doorway:

CREATURE:

She's beautiful.

VICTOR:

She's not for you.

CREATURE:

I'm sure the lady knows her own mind. Doesn't

she? Let her decide the proper suitor.

The Creature raises his hand. Beckoning. She takes a

faltering step. Drawn to him.

VICTOR:

Elizabeth, no!

(she turns, puzzled)

Say my name.

Her face reflects horror and shame, like a brain-damaged

child who's wet the bed. She knows she's supposed to

remember ... but can't remember what remembering means.

They both motion to her. Murmuring. Begging. She's caught

between them, pulled like a diaphanous rope in a tug of war.

Please ... come with me. Please ... remember. She finally

tilts toward the Creature. Gazing into his eyes. Studying

his face. Fingertips tracing his massively

(CONTINUED)

109

scarred flesh. A beat. A frown. A puzzlement. This isn't

right. People don't look like this. They're not stitched

together out of pieces of flesh like a patchwork.

She looks at her own hands. Dead and white. Not even hers.

One belongs to Justine. Another to a prostitute, suture

scars marring the wrist. She looks down at herself. The

dead, sagging breasts. The body that isn't hers either.

Realization creeping into her eyes. Realization and horror.

Turning to Victor. Why do I look like this? What's happened

to me? Oh God, what's happened to me?

ELIZABETH:

Vic ... tor?

CREATURE:

... no ...

... and she lets out a SHRIEK, a banshee wail from the

deepest pits of hell. Screaming at them both. Screaming at

herself. She goes berserk, trying to claw her flesh away,

try to find the real Elizabeth underneath the horror,

trying to peel it away, clawing at her face. trying to Claw

out her own eyes.

Victor lunges to restrain her, screaming himself, veering

toward final utter madness like strings snapping on a

violin. The Creature grabs him, hurls him aside.

CREATURE:

GET AWAY FROM HER! SHE'S MINEI

VICTOR:

SHE'LL NEVER BE YOURS! SHE SAID MY NAME! SHE

REMEMBERS!

Yes. She remembers. Not much, but enough. She breaks away

from them as they grapple, still SHRIEKING as she sails

across the room, tipping furniture, equipment flying ...

... over straight to the kerosene lamp, snatching it up

before they can stop her.

VICTOR:

NO!

She spins to face them, holding them breathlessly at bay

with the threat of the lamp, twitching from one to the

other. But it's not just the lamp, it's the look of sheer

loathing in her eyes. Loathing for them for what they've

done to her ... loathing for herself for what she's become.

It turns out the lady does know her own mind. She wants no

part of it ... or them. Decision made. She crushes the lamp

in her bare hands, drenching herself in a cascade of

(CONTINUED)

110

kerosene. WHOOOOSH! She goes up like a blazing matchstick

and darts past them, still SHRIEKING, still trying to claw

the dead flesh away, pulling off giant flaming pieces of

herself as she careens out the door and down the steps,

Victor and the Creature racing after her ...

INT - UPPER HALLWAY - NIGHT

... and she sails down the hallway, setting FIRE to

everything she passes, SCREAMING for the final torment to

end. she hurls herself over the railing, drapes catching

ablaze as she plummets to the floor far below. a pillar of

flame leaps up on impact.

VICTOR AND THE CREATURE face each other as flames sweep the

walls, combusting the upper hallway into a raging tunnel in

Hell.

VICTOR:

You killed her! You killed her!

He hurls himself at the Creature, who backhands him spinning

down the hallway, sprawling to the floor. The Creature gazes

down at his Maker one last time ...

CREATURE:

We killed her

And then vanishes through the smoke and flames.

EXT - FRANIKENSTEIN ESTATE - DAY

The once-magnificent estate lies in smoldering ruin beneath

a merciless gray sky. Charred beams and drifting smoke are

all that remain to mark the passing of a noble family.

Victor stands gazing at the house. A windswept, hollow man

Bundled in a rough coat. Flintlock rifle dangling at his

side. Henry moves into frame some distance behind. Softly:

HENRY:

Victor.

No reaction. For a long moment it seems Victor hasn't heard.

He rouses as if from a trance, turn and walks to his pack

horse. The animal stands saddled and ready.

He starts to mount up, but Henry intercepts him with a

restraining hand. Victor snaps a look as if seeing a

stranger ... and then his features soften.

VICTOR:

All that I once loved lies in a shallow grave. By

my hand.

(CONTINUED)

111

HENRY:

Let it go.

Victor pauses, emotions swirling. Wishing he could grab the

dangling thread of sanity Henry has offered ... but knowing

the thread is a bittersweet illusion. A bare whisper:

VICTOR:

You should have been my father's son. He would

have been so proud.

Victor abruptly heaves himself into the saddle and spurs his

horse. Henry runs after him, shouting:

HENRY:

VICTOR! COME BACK!

But Victor keeps riding without so much as a backward

glance. The past is dead. Henry watches Victor until he's

gone from sight, as Willie did so long ago ...

EXT - MONT BIAANC GLACIER - DAY

The solitary rider and his mount traverse the windswept

glacier ...

INT - THE CREATUREIIS CAVE - DAY

Victor slides down the entrance, rifle cradled. The cave is

now deserted, all possessions gone, a scorched black spot

where the campfire had been ...

EXT - GLACIER - DAY

A panorama of snow. Pristine...save for the long trail of

footprints stretching off before us.

Victor's face thrusts into frame, gazing at the craggy

horizon, breath punching the air with billows of vapor.

He slogs onward, following the tracks, leading his horse by

the reins. Dwindling across the frozen landscape.

ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.)

I followed his trail north ... always north ...

and always one step behind ... never

stopping...driven by my fires of rage ... and

revenge ...

DISSOLVE TO:

INT - WALTON"S CABIN - TWILIGHT

Victor lies in Walton's bed, sallow as a corpse, barely able

to speak, drained now of everything.

(CONTINUED)

112

VICTOR:

A year now I've followed him. Perhaps more. Only

to arrive at this place. Tired. So very tired. I

never did find ... whatever it was...I was looking

for...and neither will you, my friend.

(off Walton's look)

Value life above ambition ... or those glittering

prizes you seek will crumble to dust in your

fingers... as they have in mine.

(reaches out feverishly)

See your loved ones again. I cannot.

Walton takes Victor's hand, lays it gently back to his

chest. Softly:

WALTON:

Rest now.

Victor is silent. His breathing shallow. Walton just sits

And waits...

A SLOW DISSOLVE marks the passage of Walton's long vigil ...

Victor's eyes flutter open as if staring at something

unseen. Perhaps, the faces of those he loved. The eyes

glaze. A peaceful death. Walton rises. Puts on his heavy

coat to ward off the chill. Exits the cabin.

EXT - NEVSKY - ON DECK - TWILIGHT

Grigori is leaning on the gunwale, staring off across the

ice. His coat is open. Walton joins him. Surprised at how

warm it is. He holds up his hand, testing the breeze.

WALTON:

A warming wind.

GRIGORI:

This ice will break yet.

(glances over)

How's our guest?

WALTON:

He died. Raving about phantoms. He was mad, poor

devil.

(beat)

Gather a detail. Have the body removed from my

cabin.

(CONTINUED)

113

GRIGORI:

Aye, Captain.

Grigori moves off to gather help. Walton turns and heads

back to his cabin.

INT - WALTONIS CABIN - NIGHT

Walton enters ... and freezes at the sound of SOFT WEEPING.

He can't see the bad from here. Could it be the dead man? He

glances down. Wet footprints lead across the floor.

He eases forward. The tiny bed chamber comes slowly into

view. A DARK FIGURE is hunched and weeping at bedside,

holding the corpse's hand. Walton is stunned.

WALTON:

Who are you?

The figure swivels its head, revealing its face to the dim

yellow light:

CREATURE:

He never gave me a name.

Walton hisses a terrified intake of breath. He lunges to the

desk, slaps his hand on the pistol lying there. A frozen

beat. Wondering if he should snatch it up. Eyes dancing with

fear and speculation. The Creature makes no move.

Unconcerned.

CREATURE:

You were with him at the end.

WALTON:

(finds his voice)

Yes.

CREATURE:

I was watching.

Walton glances to the porthole, ajar and creaking in the

breeze, chilled at the thought. The Creature returns his

gaze to Victor.

CREATURE:

I longed to be with him. But I wanted his final

moments to have peace. I could see you were a

friend to him.

WALTON:

What is that to you? Evil as you are.

(CONTINUED)

114

CREATURE:

(swivels his gaze)

I am as he made me. In his own image.

WALTON:

You drove him to his torment.

CREATURE:

And he drove me to mine.

WALTON:

Then why weep for him?

CREATURE:

Would you not? He was father. And mother. We fell

from grace together. He from his God. I from mine.

The Creature gently strokes Victor's cheek. He reaches up

with two fingers, closes the staring eyes. A whisper:

CREATURE:

Could we ever have forgiven?

The question goes unanswered. The Creature rises, gliding in

shadow to the door. Pauses.

CREATURE:

I've never been shown a kindness. Show me one

now.

WALTON:

What kindness?

CREATURE:

Build for him a pyre. Light up the sky with his

passing.

And then the Creature is gone, vanishing smoothly into the

night ...

EXT - ARCTIC - TWILIGHT

The crew of the Nevsky are on the ice, chopping up the

fallen mast, axes rising and falling in waves ...

EXT - ARCTIC - TWILIGHT

The body of Victor Frankenstein lies on an impressive bier

of wood, stacked and lashed. His body is wrapped in rough

canvas, his face as dead and white as the ice.

Walton and crew stand facing the bier. Walton silently reads

a passage from the Bible. Oily black smoke from a small

campfire drifts past.

(CONTINUED)

115

Walton closes the book. Amens are muttered. Walton glances

to Grigori and nods. Grigori moves forward with two other

men. They begin dousing the pyre with lamp oil, soaking it.

Walton moves to the campfire, picks up an unlit torch. He

dips it into the fire, igniting-the pitch, turns. The men

back away, preparing for the coming blaze...

... and a dog starts howling on deck, others joining in.

The men pause. Gazing across the ice. Dread seeping into

their bones. There's a figure out there. Huge and humanlike

in frame. Loping slowly over the ice. Approaching.

PILOT:

(softly)

Christ.

Grigori snatches up the rifle, shoulders it smoothly, cocks

the flintlock. Walton glances over, pushes the muzzle

skyward, denying his aim.

WALTON:

It has a right to bear witness

Grigori hesitates, nods. If you say so. The men grow more

unsettled as the Creature draws nearer. Frightened

muttering. Men start backing toward the ship.

WALTON:

Stand fast. All of you.

The men stand fast. The Creature stops some thirty yards

out. A silent tableau on the ice. The men facing the

Creature. Walton holding the torch. The pyre waiting for the

kiss of flame. Walton moves forward ...

... and a THUNI)EROUS CRACK is heard, The men whip their

heads as a gigantic plate of ice goes spinning into the air

some fifty yards away and comes crashing back down again.

It's like tectonic plates building pressure toward an

earthquake:
once it goes, it goes with terrifying speed and

force:
CRACY! Another eruption. CRACK! And another. CRACK!

Ice cascading skyward.

OLD SAILOR:

THE BITCH IS BREAKIN' UP!

GRIGORI:

(whips toward Walton)

TORCH THE DAMN THINGI

Walton rushes forward. CRACK! The ice erupts before him. The

torch goes flying. Walton sprawls flat on his back.

(CONTINUED)

116

WALTON:

BACK TO THE SHIP!

The men don't have to be told twice. They're already in full

retreat, scrambling for their lives. Ice is detonating for

miles around as if pounded by artillery. Grigori helps

Walton to his feet. The torch lies burning not ten feet

away. A heartbeat of hesitation. Walton wondering if he

should go for it. Grigori pulling wildly on his sleeve ...

GRIGORI:

LEAVE IT!

... and then the matter is decided for them as a huge rift

opens at their feet, running an explosive zig-zag course

across the ice, separating them from the torch.

They fall back to join the retreat, stumbling after the

others, pursued by the ice dissolving at their heels.

THE CREATURE watches his last wish for Victor Frankenstein

snatched away by God's whim and breaking ice.

No

He starts forward. Behind him, a detonation of ice throws a

massive fist into the air, creating a magnificent halo of

cascading water and spinning fragments.

THE NEVSKY:

The first wave of fleeing men reach the ship, crowding to

the drop-net for salvation, scrambling up the side.

WALTON AND GRIGORI stumble along, closing distance to the

ship. Walton glances back, amazed to see:

THE CREATURE:

racing across the ice, making for the torch, teeth set in a

wide grimace of effort. Detonations threaten to swallow him

from all sides. Suddenly, things go from bad to worse.

THE NEVSKY:

breaks free with an enormous groan, heeling slowly over,

triggering massive eruptions in all directions. The crew

hang onto the drop-net for dear life. Several men plummet

into the icy water.

(CONTINUED)

117

THE CREATURE is propelled by a detonation as if held stepped

on a land mine, cartwheeling helplessly through the air to

plunge headfirst into the water, huge plates of spinning ice

crashing down after him. Gone.

WALTON AND GRIGORI are knocked flat as a fissure appears

between them. Grigori, dazed, is lifted into the air on a

teetering table of ice, desperately trying to scramble back

but sliding forward nonetheless, rising up and up, a gaping

maw of frigid water yawning wider and wider before him.

Walton grabs the back of Grigori's coat and tries to drag

him off ... but the coat is snatched from his fingers as the

ice see-saws forward in a complete flip and slams Grigori

thunderously into the drink.

WALTON:

GRIGORI!

THE NEVSKY finishes righting itself, swaying ponderously as

she finds honest ocean beneath her hull. Some men are

reaching the top of the net, hurling themselves over the

gunwale to the deck. Those lower on the drop-net are helping

their fellows from the water, hauling them to safety.

FRANKENSTEIN'S BIER is now corkscrewing in slow circles on

its own ice floe.

THE TORCH is drifting on a chunk of ice. Still burning.

ANGLE AT WATER LEVEL

Walton is on hands and knees, scrambling on shifting pieces

of ice, thrusting his arms into the water, screaming:

WALTON:

GRIGORI!

The first mate breaks surface in the foreground, gasping and

strangling for breath, face already turning blue, arms

thrashing wildly, dragged down by the now-impossible weight

of his own clothing.

Walton strains to reach him, nearly going into the water

himself. Grigori keeps thrashing and gasping. Dying. He's

dying right in front of Walton's eyes.

(CONTINUED)

118

WALTON:

SOMEBODY THROW ME A GAFF!

Too late. Grigori goes down for the final time, vanishing

for good beneath the frigid water. Gone. Walton throws his

head back with a bellow of anguish ...

... and Grigori breaks the surface again, rising slowly And

impossibly from the water. arms and legs windmill against

the air, propelled from below with nearly aulic strength. He

gazes down in shock at the massive fist clutching his chest

... and the arm that grows and grows, rising, lifting him up

and up ... and the hideous face that breaks the surface

beneath him. The face of a nightmare.

The Creature lunges hugely, hurling Grigori through the air

right into Walton's arms. Both men go sprawling. Walton

scrambles to his knees, makes eye contact with the Creature.

The monster is exhausted. Near his limit. Walton thrusts out

his arm, fingers grasping to help.

WALTON:

Swim.

The Creature swivels his gaze. The burning torch is drifting

away. He looks grimly back to Walton. Walton beckoning to

him. Come. Grab my hand.

The Creature swims away, knifing through the water after the

torch. Walton turns, drags Grigori gasping to his feet,

helps him limp toward the Nevsky across the lurching ice.

CREATURE struggles through the water, crushed and battered

by ice floes on all sides. Going under.

WALTON AND GRIGORI slog grimly on across the disintegrated

ice, knee-deep and nearly walking on water. They sink,

finding nothing beneath their feet. Lines are thrown down

and caught.

Walton and Grigori are hauled from the frigid arctic water

and hoisted up the side of the ship. The last ones aboard.

BURNING TORCH is spinning slowly on its chunk of ice. Bony

fingers break the surface of the water. A straining hand.

The Creature's eyes rise from the murk. Bleary with

exhaustion and cold. He seizes the torch. Raises it high.

Swims grimly on.

(CONTINUED)

119

ABOARD THE NEVSKY

The crew bundle Walton and Grigori in blankets, both men

shivering with exposure. Walton lurches to the gunwale,

gazing off. The men crowd to his-side.

THE CREATURE swims on, head barely breaking the water, torch

held high to keep it burning. Relentlessly determined. This

is the most grueling effort we've ever seen. Gasping and

sinking beneath the surface ...

... and finally grasping with frozen fingers the ice floe

upon which lies Frankenstein's funeral pyre. He hauls

himself from the water. Moving now in a slow-motion litany

of exhaustion. Climbing the pyre. Scaling the wood. Seeking

the top. Never giving up.

The Creature joins his Maker atop the bier, straddling the

wood, holding the torch aloft as if lighting his master's

way to the Netherworld, Frankenstein's personal boatman

across the River Styx. Frankenstein himself lies serenely at

his creation's knees, content to be shown the way ...

The Creature turns his face to the sky, gulping air,

spreading his arms wide in sublime triumph. Feeling the wind

on his skin, the sleet on his face, the grim joy in his

heart. Cold. So very cold.

He glances at the torch burning low in his outstretched

hand, pitch almost gone, sputtering and trailing smoke. He

looks down. At Frankenstein. The oil-soaked canvas. The

saturated wood. There's that smell. Yes. He scoops Victor

up with his free arm and cradles him to his breast, as

tender as a mother comforting a baby.

WALTON AND THIE CREW gaze in horror. Realization dawning:

GRIGORI (softly)

Don't do it ...

(screaming)

FOR GOD'S SAKE! DON'T DO IT!

THE CREATURE:

turns his gaze one last time toward Heaven. Eyelids

fluttering in near-religious ecstasy. Finding in these last

moments the sympathy held so long sought. A whisper:

(CONTINUED)

120

CREATURE:

For God's sake ... I will.

And he rams the torch into the pyre beneath him. White-hot

ignition. Ultimate redemption. WHUMPI A massive BALL OF

FLAME engulfs the bier, pushing a huge fiery fist into the

sky. Blossoming. Roiling.

WALTON AND THE CREW gaze on in wonder and horror as:

THE CREATURE rides the burning pyre, a shrieking revenant

wrapped in a caul of fire, screaming in the flames. Hair

going up at a sizzling flashpoint. Cheeks billowing out,

peeling back in the blast-furnace heat. Flesh cleansing from

bone. Teeth charring and turning black. Still cradling

Victor. Still screaming. waiting for the final torment to

end. Perhaps it never will ...

FRANKENSTEIN'S PYRE drifts off into the arctic twilight

trailing a huge column of flame and smoke, inhuman screams

echoing endlessly. Lost in the darkness and distance.

WALTON stands at the gunwale, his crew at his side. The

borealis dances mysteriously on the horizon. Distant slivers

of lightning kiss the world. Softly:

WALTON:

Home

EXT - ARCTIC - TWILIGHT

HIGH AERIAL SHOT. An ocean of broken ice beneath us. The

Alexander Nevsky heels gingerly about, corkscrewing through

a slow turn toward the open sea as we FADE TO BLACK

THE END:

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Frank Darabont

Frank Arpad Darabont (born January 28, 1959) is a Hungarian-American film director, screenwriter and producer who has been nominated for three Academy Awards and a Golden Globe Award. In his early career he was primarily a screenwriter for horror films such as A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors, The Blob and The Fly II. As a director he is known for his film adaptations of Stephen King novels such as The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile, and The Mist. more…

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"Mary Shelley's Frankenstein" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2017. Web. 23 Nov. 2017. <http://www.scripts.com/script/mary_shelley's_frankenstein_139>.

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