Suffragette

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CAPTION:
LONDON, 1912.

THICK WHITE FOG, AT FIRST NOTHING VISIBLE AND THEN THROUGH

THE STIFLING HEAT the FOG IS REVEALED AS BILLOWING CLOUDS of

STEAM hanging like a blanket over a vast laundry floor with

row upon row of WOMEN washing, pressing and folding endless

linen, in continual repeat from vat to hot press to basket.

POLITICIAN V/O

Women do not have the calmness of

temperament or the balance of mind

to exercise judgement in political

affairs.

Through the rising clouds of steam, WOMEN ironing, MRS VIOLET

MILLER [early 40s] amongst them.

POLITICIAN 2 V/O

If we allow women to vote, it will

mean the loss of social structure.

Women are well represented by their

fathers, brothers, husbands.

HOUSE CROWD V/O

(cheering)

Here here.

CAPTION:

POLITICIAN 3 V/O

Once the vote was given, it would

be impossible to stop at this.

Women would then demand the right

of becoming MPs, cabinet ministers,

judges.

FOR DECADES WOMEN HAD PEACEFULLY CAMPAIGNED FOR EQUALITY AND

THE RIGHT TO VOTE.

THEIR ARGUMENTS WERE IGNORED.

IN RESPONSE, EMMELINE PANKHURST, LEADER OF THE SUFFRAGETTE

MOVEMENT, CALLED FOR A NATIONAL CAMPAIGN OF CIVIL

DISOBEDIENCE.

THIS IS THE STORY OF ONE GROUP OF WORKING WOMEN WHO JOINED

THE FIGHT.

INT. WASHING ROOM. LAUNDRY. BETHNAL GREEN. LONDON. 1912. DAY.

THE LOUD BELLOW of a FACTORY BELL. Women begin to file out.

MAUD WATTS [20’S] scrubs a deep washing vat, as the last

LAUNDRY WORKERS drain from the floor.

TAYLOR (O/S)

Maud - take this up to the West

End.

MR TAYLOR [40’s] with irritation, throws a parcel at her, a

central London address clear on the front. It slams hard into

her chest, winding her a little.

TAYLOR (CONT’D)

It’s meant to be there by six.

MAUD nods, sweat and steam blotting her clothes.

MAUD:

Delivery should have picked it up.

EXT. YARD/STREET. LAUNDRY. BETHNAL GREEN. 1912. DAY.

MAUD stepping out through the iron gates of the laundry,

clearly the last to leave. She hurries off towards a waiting

BUS gripping the parcel tighter.

EXT. STREET. CENTRAL LONDON. 1912. DAY.

The SWIRL and BUSTLE of the street on the edge of closing

time-

MAUD gets off the bus, still gripping the parcel. She weaves

her way past the human ebb and flow.

Fleeting glimpses of SHOP WINDOWS, HOTEL DOORWAYS, a DOORMAN

lets out an ELEGANT LADY, her MAID close by. Several boxes

and shopping bags alluding to an expensive shopping trip.

A STIFF BACKED NANNY, MISS WITHERS, wheels a Silver Cross

pram, a few yards behind MAUD.

MAUD crosses the street.

The SQUEAK of the pram wheel underscores.

EXT. SHOP. STREET. CENTRAL LONDON. 1912. DAY.

A WINDOW display catches MAUD’S eye, showing the peak of

fashion in 1912. A perfect family scene, mother, father and

son by the beach, all dressed in bathing suits.

ON MAUD quietly marvelling- as her eyes scan over the

display, drinking it in.

A clock overhead creeps towards 6pm.

A POST MISTRESS, MISS SAMSON stands seemingly reading a

magazine at a newspaper stall.

MISS WITHERS only inches behind MAUD now. She pulls back the

baby’s blanket to reveal... no baby, but stones. She whips a

stone out and hurls it-

MISS WITHERS:

VOTES FOR WOMEN!

CRASH!

The SHATTER of a shop window right next to MAUD. MAUD turns,

shocked and bewildered by the sudden anarchy as she ducks for

cover, clasping the parcel to her breast-

HANDS whip out stones from deep inside fur muffs. FINGERS

unfasten handbag clasps pulling out hammers, mallets, rolling

pins.

SMASH!

The FURY and SURPRISE of a SHOP DOORMAN as pandemonium

reigns.

A HORSE rears pulling a nearby CARRIAGE-

MAUD shocked and shaken, desperate to get away, stumbling as

she runs. The WINDOW DISPLAY she was gazing at, shattered.

EXT. STREET. CENTRAL LONDON. 1912. DAY.

On MAUD, faster now, passing, seeing-

The INDIGNATION of a GENTLEMAN buying his newspaper-

The FURY of a NEWS STALL VENDOR as he hurriedly packs up shop-

The SHOUTS of protest, the white, green and purple of the

Suffragette colours unfurled-

WOMEN:

VOTES FOR WOMEN!

SUDDENLY MAUD TRIPS, THE PARCEL SPLITS and LINEN SPILLS AS

SHE FALLS.

Stones and toffee hammers fly all around her as shop window

after shop window shatter into a thousand pieces, sending

shards of glass clattering in paths.

WOMEN (CONT’D)

VICTORY WILL BE OURS.

On MAUD, desperately grappling amongst the shattered glass

and stones to gather up the laundry. HEAVY BOOTS STAMPING

OVER IT.

On MAUD’s rising panic and shock, hesitating on seeing-

VIOLET caught in the fray.

VIOLET:

VOTES FOR WOMEN!

Taking her chance, MAUD turns, fleeing through the

pandemonium, eyes spying a BUS, pulling away, amidst the

chaos. She runs making a leap for it-

INT. BUS. STREET. LONDON. 1912. DAY.

Heart racing, MAUD sinks down into a seat.

Around MAUD the curious PASSENGERS peer over heads and

shoulders, straining to see the ensuing chaos and violence

raging outside.

The bus travels along the street.

EXT. BACKSTREET/TENEMENT. BETHNAL GREEN. LONDON. 1912.

EVENING.

MAUD hurrying along past the peeling doorways of a London

slum, carrying the split parcel, hurrying to the door of a

rundown tenement block-

She unlocks the front door and hurries inside into-

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