The Possession

EXT. FAIRY TALE FOREST - DAY/NIGHT

Moonlight. A magical forest of trees. Diamond shards of

blue light on wrinkled, wormy roots. Over the mossy gorse,

steps -

A little TAILOR, with scissors, needles and thread hanging

from his belt. A glass key round his neck. And a tall,

grey hound beside him. He sees ahead -

A giant stone, where a crack opens up. The Tailor peers

inside. And squeezes down inside a dark tunnel. Which

leads out into -

INT. STONE CHAMBER - DAY/NIGHT

A shimmering hall of phosphorescent light. The Tailor sees

a tall glass dome; and a shining glass coffin, on a velvet

pall, surrounded by moths and butterflies.

The Tailor peers inside the glass dome, sees -

A miniature castle, with windows and battlements.

FROM POV - INSIDE GLASS COFFIN

The Tailor peers in, to see: a sleeping PRINCESS, her

breath ruffling her golden hair. In her hands: a box, like

a green ice egg.

BACK TO SCENE:

The Tailor -- takes his glass key, slips it into the lock.

(CONTINUED)

2.

CONTINUED:

CHRISTABEL (V.O.)

`... And the little tailor thought

to bend and kiss her perfect cheek,

because he knew this was what he

must do...'

And kisses the Princess. She opens her eyes, full of

wonder.

PRINCESS:

You must be the one I have been

waiting for. You must be the

prince.

TAILOR:

No, you are mistaken. I am a

tailor. In search of work to keep

me alive.

The Princess laughs. And the sound of her laughter SHATTERS

the GLASS COFFIN into splinters. And on the box, CLOSE IN

and -

REVEREND (V.O.)

`... I am the resurrection and the

life,' said Jesus. `He that

believeth in me, though he were

dead, yet shall he live...'

SLOW FADE UP TO a silvery BLACK AND WHITE -

EXT. CEMETERY (LONDON) - DAY (1888)

The box lies in the hands of a widow, MRS. ELLEN ASH, in

front of a mausoleum. It's a dripping November day, sun low

in the sky.

Ellen lifts back her veil to kiss the box. Which she places

inside -- a wrought iron vault. Its doors close.

REVEREND:

Let the body and soul of Randolph

Henry Ash lie in eternal peace,

mourned by his sorrowing widow

Ellen...

PULL BACK to see Ellen and mourners, men in black hats and

cloaks like silk-clad ravens round an Egyptian-style vaulted

tomb. Ellen focuses on the box behind a metal grille. HOLD

ON -- the box.

As before our eyes, the box and tomb rapidly -

(CONTINUED)

3.

CONTINUED:

Age a hundred years. Roses wither and die. Moss, weeds,

leaves, briars, tendrils of undergrowth push and coil 'round

the grille.

REVEREND (V.O.)

... honored not only by those of the

year of our Lord 1888, but by all of

time...

And as a wind blows leaves, FADE UP TO -

EXT. LONDON STREETS (BLOOMSBURY) - DAY (PRESENT)

The spinning wheel of a bicycle. The spokes blur in

a constant motion, giving an illusion of stillness.

As -

Suddenly VIVID COLOR and SHRIEK of CAR HORNS -

A young man weaves perilously 'round a worm of traffic. In

anorak and cycle clips, ROLAND MICHELL, thirtyish, dodges

down back streets, cutting through into -

EXT. BRITISH MUSEUM - DAY

Roland wheels his bicycle to sheds, removes his clips.

Oblivious to his trousers splashed by mud. He unpacks his

bicycle panniers. Heads through a side entrance into!-

INT. BRITISH MUSEUM - DAY

Roland walks down a long corridor, leading through to an

ECHOING domed hall. He pauses by a party of TEACHER and

school-kids in front of a statue of an eminent Victorian:

Randolph Henry Ash.

CLOSEUP - STATUE

Roland stares fondly up at the stern features of Ash gazing

lifelessly out over the kids' bored faces.

BACK TO SCENE:

TEACHER:

... Poet, philosopher, naturalist,

statesman, Randolph Henry Ash was

one of our most eminent literary

heroes...

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

4.

CONTINUED:

TEACHER (CONT'D)

... whose famous love poems to his

wife Ellen are among the most

glorious jewels of our literary

heritage. From the Victorian age,

only Browning and Tennyson --.

(to unruly kids)

Pay attention, Kylie --.

Who stare amusedly at Roland's nerdy appearance, cycling

helmet still on. He slips unnoticed down a side stair-well,

entering -

INT. BRITISH MUSEUM BASEMENT - ASH FACTORY - DAY

Through a door marked, "Ash Institute: Director Professor

James Blackadder." This is the "Ash Factory": A basement

of corridors, in institutional grot. Strip lighting,

peeling paint-work.

PAOLA, a fifty-something secretary with moth-like glasses,

glances up at Roland.

PAOLA:

'Morning, Roland. Blackadder's in a

panic. Mortimer Cropper has landed.

ROLAND:

Oh, God. Did Blackadder finish my

reference? I asked him weeks ago.

PAOLA:

I reminded him. But you know what

he's like when Cropper's in town.

ROLAND:

I must talk to Blackadder. He knows

since he gave that job to Fergus...

PAOLA:

Accident?

Notices his ruined trousers, on her way to the photocopier.

ROLAND:

(hadn't noticed before)

Oh... my bicycle, I suppose.

(CONTINUED)

5.

CONTINUED:

Roland puts down his panniers, squeezes past Paola into the

pantry. He flicks on the kettle. Looks for his coffee mug.

ROLAND:

... Who's been using my mug?

As he unscrews the coffee jar, waiting for the kettle to

boil, he turns to see at the door, a grey-haired woman,

staring at him.

BEATRICE:

If you have a minute, Roland...

This is Dr. BEATRICE NEST, doyenne of Ellen Ash studies and

Keeper of the Ash Museum, an eccentric spinsterish scholar.

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