Flash Gordon

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Flash Gordon

teleplay by

Luis Blasini

November 18, 2022

Draft #1

(© copyright 2022)

 

Email:
luis.blasini@yahoo.com

© BlasiniFilms Ltd.

 

FLASH GORDON:

EPISODE 1

A Planet in Peril

A triumphant Wagnerian-like theme plays over OPENING CREDITS. Afterward, a TITLE CARD, white on black, appears:

“CHAPTER ONE:
A PLANET IN PERIL”

FADE IN -

EXT:
SPACE

EARTH reflected off the face of an ASTRONAUT'S HELMET. It appears close enough to touch. The lone astronaut, attached to the orbiting ISS STATION BY LIFELINE, struggles to replace a piece of the station’s equipment. It is quiet and serene.

ASTRONAUT:

(with radio squawking)

Houston, I am now attempting to relocate service valve...

A HORRIFYING RUMBLING SOUND. FLAMING SHOTGUN LIKE PELLETS assault the station. INCONDECENT SHRAPNEL rips into the fuselage and solar panels. Tearing it to pieces. The lone astronaut’s lifeline breaks; he spins off, suit leaking from multiple punctures.

EXT. ISS - SPACE

FIERY PELLETS shred through ISS logo, peeling the station down to its ribs. FIERY EXPLOSION.

EXT. SPACE

CLOSE ON THE ASTRONAUT as he twirls away from the space station. His helmet fogging. He gasps for air, retching, eyelids leaking blood. He tries to form words:

ASTRONAUT:

...help me...

The astronaut’s SHOULDER-CAM angle spins end-over-end...

EXT. MANHATTAN ISLAND - SUNRISE

Establishing. The sun RISES over the BROOKLYN BRIDGE.

EXT. MANHATTEN - MORNING

TRAFFIC is ground to a halt. CAMERA MOVES into a cab. CARLOS, the cabbie, with a suited OFFICE WORKER, who's craning his neck out the window.

OFFICE WORKER:

What's the hold up, my guy?

CARLOS:

Well, ya know, it’s Monday. Could be a shootin', could be a stabbin', could be some junkie schmuck in the middle of the street.. (shrugs)

A FIERY PROJECTILE the size of a dump truck SCREAMS through the sky and blasts through THREE HUGE BUILDINGS.

More projectiles EXPLODE in the intersection. People scream and run. Cars get thrown everywhere. Carlos's cab slams upside down into HARRY’S BAR.

ONE BLOCK DOWN. THE ENTIRE TOP FIVE STORIES -- A sheared section topples and hits the street below. Bricks, mortar, and gargoyles are everywhere. People SCREAMING and FALLING.

EXT. TOKYO – NIGHT

The city of Tokyo spreads off into the horizon. A MILLION LIGHTS glow in the EARLY NIGHT. A COUPLE sits on a street overpass, romantically admiring the city view. TWO HUGE PROJECTILES scream down from the heavens. There is a bright FLASH as the city is DECIMATED.

EXT. LONDON – AFTERNOON

The LONDON BRIDGE is congested with afternoon TRAFFIC. A PROJECTILE the size of a bus falls and smashes into BIG BEN, completely demolishing it. In the distance, TWO OTHER METEORS slam into THE CITYSCAPE in a fiery EXPLOSION of ash and debris.

INT - N.O.R.A.D. - CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN

The U.S.'s Early Warning Air Defense. Two U.S.A.F RADAR TECHNICIANS are hunched over radar screens.

RADAR TECH 1:

I have confirmation of strikes, one, two, three... twelve bogies...the whole board's lit up! They’re coming down all over the world!

The RADAR TECH 2 hits a KLAXON, and stabs phone line buttons.

EXT. WASHINGTON D.C. - PENTAGON - DAY

Establishing, over which we hear RINGING PHONES.

EXT. PENTAGON - GENERAL BURTON'S OFFICE – DAY

Chaos in the corridors. GENERAL BURTON, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, a man of stature, bursts out of his office, met by his SECRETARY.

SECRETARY:

We're receiving reports of mass destruction as far away as Beijing and parts of the Soviet Union! New York has gone dark! Heavy casualties in Kansas City, Miami, and Los Angeles.

BURTON:

Get me Professor Gordon.

They rush down the congested hall.

INT. MISSION CONTROL

PROFESSOR RAYMOND GORDON, a stoic-looking man in his late fifties, enters the room and sits down. HIS ASSISTANT hands him a secure phone. Gordon sinks into his chair. In the b.g., VIDEO MONITORS show twenty live feeds from T.V. stations across the country. All feeds are destruction and chaos.

PROF. GORDON:

...no, Madam Secretary, we know they’re not missiles. It seems the comet knocked several asteroids out of their orbit when it passed through the belt. I won’t candy coat the situation for you, Madam Secretary. The earth is doomed. The comet continues towards the earth. We estimate twenty-two days before collision. (He nods.) Of course. God’s speed, Madam Secretary.

Burton ENTERS the office.

BURTON:

Professor Gordon. Now, it’s dropping our own damn asteroids down on us. We need to come up with a plan on how to deflect that object out from our orbit. Where’s Zarkov? He was all over this project when he first discovered the damn thing.

PROF. GORDON:

(scoffs)

Zarkov? Doctor Zarkov? The man is insane! His theories are preposterous!

BURTON:

How so?

ASSISTANT:

After the comet passed the orbit of Mars, Zarkov claimed it began to slow down.

BURTON:

(not believing a word)

It...it began to slow down?

PROF. GORDON:

He claimed. Zarkov also said to have received a transmission from outer space. From the comet itself. One word. Very garbled. “Mongo”.

BURTON:

Mongo? Where’s Zarkov now?

PROF. GORDON:

The CIA lost track of him when he entered Austria. (shrugs.) Guess he went back home. We did receive a phone message a few days ago from him. He was ranting. Most of it made no sense, said he did it. Said he completed his rocket ship.

Gordon’s CELL PHONE chimes a notification. He looks at it. His demeanor becomes melancholy.

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