American Shaolin

FADE IN:

EXT. NEW YORK CITY SKYLINE – NIGHT

ESTABLISHING SHOT OF THE NEW YORK CITY SKYLINE AT NIGHT, THE LIGHTS OF THE CITY SHINING BRIGHTLY.

EXT. WORKOUT AREA – SAME NIGHT

ESTABLISHING SHOT OF MASTER KWAN'S SCHOOL, A RAMSHACKLE BUILDING IN A BURNED OUT ROW OF STORES.

His is the only one still occupied, and it doesn't look that permanent. In the window is a cardboard, handwritten sign that reads "Kwan's Shaolin Kung Fu". What remains visible behind the poster and the security grate is an IMPRESSION of people moving and milling around.

INT. WORKOUT AREA – SAME NIGHT

ESTABLISHING SHOT OF KWAN'S SHAOLIN KUNG FU SCHOOL.

The students are doing their own thing, and they are a mixture of old and young, men and women. They are not dressed alike, as they would be in a Karate school: they are dressed in old T-shirts and tattered sweat pants. This is not a wealthy school, by any means, and that is typified by the appearance of SIFU KWAN, who is walking through the students as they train. He is wizened old man, 70 years old if he is a day, and he is dressed in a fraying Chinese jacket, scruffy cloth shoes and a discolored Chinese T-shirt.

ANGLE ON A YOUNG ADULT

Struggling through a horse stance, his face in real pain. He is trying his best to hold the stance, but his legs are quivering. He drops out of the stance onto his knees. Master Kwan is right beside him.

YOUNG ADULT:

Sifu Kwan, was that long enough? It's been 10 minutes...

Sifu Kwan shakes his head and puts his hands behind his back as he walks past the student.

KWAN:

At Shaolin Temple, in misty Songshan mountains, We monks trained in iron palm until our hands bled...

(beat)

... then we trained some more.

He walks on, leaving a puzzled student behind.

YOUNG ADULT:

(getting back into horse stance)

I guess not...

ANGLE ON KWAN:

As he walks around the different people training. As one woman is moving through an intricate series of movements, he sighs and rearranges her hands.

KWAN:

Tiger grasps his tail, not hamburger!

He moves on, studying the room with his eyes, often glancing toward the door, and then toward the small clock on a table near the door. It is late, and Kwan is obviously waiting for someone to arrive. As he is waiting, a young STUDENT comes up to Kwan.

STUDENT:

Master Kwan, when can I learn flying kicks? I see Bruce Lee...

KWAN:

Bruce Lee actor, we fighters, warriors. A sparrow in flight is beautiful, but a side kick to the ribs is effective. Show me.

The boy shrugs and then starts throwing side kicks. Kwan is half looking at the boy and half looking towards the door and the clock. The boy throws three or four kicks and then stops. He is watching Kwan watching the door. Kwan sees him, and turns back to him.

KWAN (CONT'D)

(shaking his head)

A Shaolin warrior lets nothing intrude. Continue, never mind.

He continues to kick, and Kwan continues to look at the door. Finally, the student stops kicking, half-heartedly bows to the master, and then moves to the side of the workout room. Kwan doesn't know he's gone. Kwan turns around, forgetting for a moment what he is doing, and comes face to face with the mother of a student, MRS. RODRIGUEZ, and she is holding a uniform of some sort. She smiles widely at him and holds up the uniform. It is beautiful, obviously hand made, and on the back is embroidered: "Kwan's Shaolin" and underneath that is "Drew Carson". Kwan takes in the entire outfit, while the rest of the class is gathering around to have a look. They are all very impressed.

KWAN (CONT'D)

Never in my days at the Shaolin Temple have I seen uniform as beautiful as this. Thank you, Mrs. Rodriguez. I wish Drew were here to thank you himself. Ta ma de!

This last he says looking at the empty door.

MOTHER:

I only hope it brings him luck in the tournament.

KWAN:

Luck is no concern, Mrs. Rodriguez. Shaolin warriors depend on heart and soul – that's how they saved the T'ang emporer.

He looks again at the door, then claps his hands together, gathering his students around him.

KWAN (CONT'D)

Xie Xie, Mrs. Rodriguez.

(to class)

During my time training at the Shaolin Temple, the birthplace of the martial arts, I was lucky (glance at Mrs. Rodriguez)... er... fortunate to have the best instructors in the world train me. But, there was also time for individual training – where skills were honed like the blade of a sword. Now, it is that time for you.

He turns to go.

One of the students, before he can leave, clears his throat.

STUDENT 2

What do you want us to do?

KWAN:

When the blind follow the blind, they both fall over the cliff. Understand?

STUDENT 2

No.

The others mutter "No" and shake their heads, confused.

KWAN:

No matter.

He exits, leaving his students staring vacantly after him.

They look at each other, honestly not knowing what to do.

EXT. DREW GARAGE – SAME NIGHT

ESTABLISHING SHOT OF OLD GARAGE.

It is kind of spooky, and there are no lights on outside. There is candlelight inside, and it is moving around – an effect not unlike a ghost carrying a candelabra.

INT. DREW GARAGE – SAME NIGHT

ESTABLISHING SHOT OF INTERIOR.

The area is dilapidated, but very clean, with all kinds of kung fu and Chinese paraphenalia lying around. Around the corner comes the spooky light, and (with music building to a crescendo), we see DREW CARSON, a muscular 16/17 year old, bowls of flaming wax on his bare shoulders, moving through the garage, practicing his kung fu maneuvers. He is kicking, punching, etc., occasionally spilling hot wax on his skin (INSERT).

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