BATMAN YEAR ONE:

Screenplay

BY FRANK MILLER:

FADE IN.

EXT. GOTHAM CITY, NIGHT

LIGHTNING RIPS across a jet-black SKY.

THUNDER CRASHES.

LIGHTNING casts GOTHAM CITY in stark relief. SIRENS WAIL.

CAR ALARMS SCREAM. A CACOPHONY.

LIGHTNING SILHOUETTES a menacing POLICE HELICOPTER, ROARING

downward like a monster insect.

LIGHTNING... SPARK? SHOWER. WILD.

REVEAL:

INT. DARK AREA - NIGHT

A sweating, tormented sleeper — BRUCE WAYNE.

His eyes hollowed, skin pale, he TOSSES and TURNS. Then

FLINCHES. 3 more times he —

FLINCHES:

FLINCHES:

FLINCHES. Then —

His EYES pop open WIDE

BRUCE WAYNE SCREAMS

It is the sound of INCOMPREHENSIBLE HORROR.

INT. BRUCE WAYNE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Awoken from his NIGHTMARE by the sound of his own scream,

disoriented, BRUCE goes to the sink and SPLASHES cold water

in his face.

BRUCE (V.O.)

Father. WHERE are you? What will I

DO?

His hands tremble. Distant THUNDER sounds.

EXT. EAST END SIDEWALK - MORNING

LITTLE AL, a gigantic, early middle-aged black man carries a

bag of doughnuts and two coffees.

He whistles as he walks through a run-down slum.

He stops and inserts a key at a grimy storefront: The sign

reads, AL and Son, Repair, Service, Salvage.

REVERSE SHOT OF:
INT. AL'S GARAGE - MORNING

LITTLE AL hits the lights revealing a meticulously clean

auto repair shop

LITTLE AL:

Bruce? Bruce? You here?

LITTLE AL continues his search in the—

EXT. JUNK YARD BEHIND AL'S GARAGE - MORNING

It's a dreary, dirty, isolated place.

Its sole occupant, BRUCE, loads large car parts onto a

flatbed TRUCK bearing the 'AL and Son' logo.

He carries the heavy transmissions and engine blocks on his

broad, muscular shoulders.

LITTLE AL:

Morning sunshine.

BRUCE says nothing, he just STARES at LITTLE AL with

troubled, tired eyes.

LITTLE AL (CONT'D)

(Hands BRUCE a coffee)

OK twinkle toes. Let's take a look

at the job orders.

The two head up a wooden staircase over the garage and enter—

INT. BRUCE WAYNE'S APARTMENT - MORNING

It's the claustrophobic room of an obsessive compulsive.

Neatly organized electronic hobby projects line the walls—

POLICE SCANNERS, RADIOS and TVs. Their readouts and displays

provide the only light.

LITTLE AL opens the blackout curtains. Sunlight pours in.

LITTLE AL:

(opens a ledger)

So the load on the truck is the

DiMotto order, right?

(BRUCE nods)

You finished the rebuild on that

caddie, and the tranny for Spencer.

(BRUCE nods some more)

I guess that's it, huh?

You know I COULD put in a couple

days, help you out down here, if

you want a break.

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