EXT. LONDON. VAUXHALL. MI6 HEADQUARTERS. NIGHT
The Headquarters of British Intelligence. An embassy of
secrets. Intense security. Cameras. Bomb proof walls.
A cab parks outside. A young man steps out. Mid-
twenties. Lean and handsome. He’s Danny. His clothes
are cool and casual. His hair styled.
Danny turns his back on MI6, crossing the street. We
follow him to the opposite side -
Gay clubs, bars and sex saunas, underneath railway
arches. People queuing to gain entry to the clubs.
With a Saturday-night swagger Danny bypasses the queue,
saying hi to many. Known by most. Danny gives the
bouncer a handshake. And is ushered in. A socialite.
As the door opens we do not follow Danny inside,
catching a fleeting glimpse of intense lighting.
The doors close -
EXT. VAUXHALL. RAILWAY ARCHES. DAWN
The doors are thrown open --
Danny emerges. Pupils huge. Skin sweaty. Re-presented
with the world, he seems cowed by it.
His swagger gone, Danny appears gaunt rather than lean.
His clothes are club-grimed. His hair dishevelled.
The ‘gay strip’ is quiet. A few hardened souls. A few
taxi drivers hawking trade.
To the side of the club there’s no queue, no people, just
the fencing & the hoarding, flat on the ground.
The area is deserted. The buzz is gone.
Danny tries to swallow: it’s painful. We hear the sound
of his throat, the movements, dry slow swallow of spit.
He takes from his pocket the pack of cigarettes. It’s now
utterly crumpled and smashed. He opens it.
Inside is an empty drug bag. And a single crushed
cigarette, broken in half.
Danny tries to light the broken half but the lighter
pathetically sparks with no flame.
His hands are trembling.
He gives up.
LONDON SPY -EP 1 -SHOOTING SCRIPT
He walks forward, looming over him is MI6: the building
means nothing to Danny. His eyes slide across it without
catching on it.
He takes out his phone. He dials. His voice is broken.
DANNY (ON PHONE)
Hey guys... if you get this
message... I wanted to know... if
you were still... up... I don’t
feel like... being alone... if
you’re still up... ring me...
He hangs up. He shuffles off.
EXT. VAUXHALL. CENTRAL ROAD JUNCTION. DAWN
The enormous road junction at the heart of Vauxhall.
Normally full of traffic. Now eerie-empty.
Danny crosses into the central pedestrian reservation,
automatically trudging towards the passage under the
train tracks, on auto-pilot, heading home.
But he stops, staring at the tunnel, a route he’s taken
many times. He looks in the opposite direction, towards
the bridge & the morning sky.
Danny - surrounded and dwarfed by the huge empty roads -
lingering and deciding.
And, finally, he changes direction, walking towards the
river. Passing MI6, he doesn’t even glance at it.
EXT. LAMBETH BRIDGE. DAWN
In the middle of the deserted bridge Danny looks out
over London, The Thames & Parliament.
His beautiful-saucer-eyes dart about, perplexed by this
world. Drugs push his thoughts close to the surface.
He takes out his phone. And considers. We can see he
knows, on every level, that this is a terrible idea.
Except he does it anyway.
The phone rings. Danny prepares what to say. The phone
is answered. Danny about to speak but he’s abruptly cut
off. We don’t hear what is said, if anything.
Danny’s stunned. Offended. Finally, he’s hurt.
LONDON SPY -EP 1 -SHOOTING SCRIPT
In an act of frustration Danny leans back, arm behind
him, ready to throw the ‘fucking-phone’ into the river
but he stops, frozen in this javelinesque position.