Silver Bullet

Synopsis: Silver Bullet is a 1985 American horror film based on the Stephen King novella Cycle of the Werewolf. It stars Gary Busey, Everett McGill, Megan Follows, Corey Haim, Terry O'Quinn, Lawrence Tierney, Bill Smitrovich, Kent Broadhurst, David Hart, and James Gammon. The film is directed by Dan Attias and produced by Dino De Laurentiis.
Genre: Horror
Production: Paramount Home Video
  1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
6.4
Metacritic:
26
Rotten Tomatoes:
47%
R
Year:
1985
95 min
500 Views


FADE IN:

EXT. THE FULL MOON, CLOSE NIGHT

It nearly fills the screen, swimming mysteriously in the

warm late summer air.

SOUND:
Crickets.

THE CAMERA PANS SLOWLY DOWN TO:

EXT. TRAIN TRACKS IN THE COUNTRY NIGHT - AND MOONLIGHT

CREDITS BEGIN.

A rail-rider comes chugging along the tracks. Aboard is

ARNIE WESTRUM, a big man in a strappy T-shirt and chino

pants. He is drinking beer.

ARNIE (sings)

My beer is Rheingold the dry beer...

Think of Rheingold whenever you buy beer...

He drains the rest of his own bottle of Rheingold and tosses

it to one side. Up ahead we see a switching point.

ARNIE throws the rail-rider into neutral, opens the toolbox

on the back, and brings out a big five-cell flashlight. He

shines it on the switch.

He gets a crowbar from the toolbox, plus a big wrench, a

pair of pliers, a hammer, and a pair of work gloves. He also

gets another bottle of beer and sticks it into his back

pocket.

ARNIE jumps down and approaches the switch.

CREDITS CONTINUE.

EXT. ARNIE, AT THE SWITCHING POINT NIGHT

He drops his tools, pulls on his work gloves, and trains the

light on the switch for a moment. During this:

ARNIE (sings)

It's not bitter, not sweet, it's a real

frosty treat, won't you try, won't you

buy Rheingold beer...

He tries the switch. No go. It's frozen.

ARNIE:

Stuck tighter'n dogshit in a deep freeze!

He takes the bottle of beer from his back pocket and fishes

a churchkey from one of the front ones. He pops the cap and

drinks deeply. He burps. Then he screws the half-empty

bottle of beer into the cinders so it won't fall over. Then

he picks up his crowbar.

CREDITS CONTINUE.

EXT. THE RAIL-RIDER NIGHT

There's a SOUND of bushes shaking. Something comes out -

something huge. It leaps limberly onto the rail-rider. It is

a werewolf with greenish-yellow eyes. Tatters of clothes

still hang from it.

What kind of monster, exactly? It is humanoid as well as

wolfish... and when we learn who it is in its human form, we

should be able to spot the resemblance at once...and kick

ourselves for not knowing earlier.

It crouches there, huge and bushy and fanged and deadly, on

the whole rail-rider.

CREDITS CONCLUDE.

EXT. ARNIE NIGHT

He's working the crowbar into the junction point just as

hard as he can. Swearing at it under his breath. Suddenly,

both the tracks and the switch move.

ARNIE:

Hot damn! Now... a little oil...

He turns back toward the rail-rider.

EXT. ARNIE, ARRIVING AT THE RAIL-RIDER NIGHT

ARNIE:

It's not bitter, not sweet... it's

a big f***in' treat...

A NOISE - bushes rattling; cinders clinking and rattling.

ARNIE looks around.

EXT. THE RAILS AND THE SWITCHING POINT, ARNIE'S POV NIGHT

Nothing there. His bottle of beer stands by the litter of

his tools.

EXT. ARNIE, AT THE RAIL-RIDER NIGHT

He's rooting around in the toolbox, back to the switching

point.

EXT. ARNIE'S BOTTLE OF BEER, CU NIGHT

A hairy hand/paw closes around it - we see huge curved claws

on that hand.

EXT. THE WEREWOLF'S FACE, CU NIGHT

Glaring green-yellow eyes; a savage, beastial face which is

still half human. That's all we see. The rest is in shadow.

It opens its mouth and upends the bottle of beer. Foamy

Rheingold begins gurgling down the werewolf's throat.

EXT. ARNIE AT THE RAIL-RIDER NIGHT

He comes up with an old-fashioned oilcan, the kind with the

long spout. He starts back to the switching point, waving

the can.

ARNIE (sings)

My beer is Rheingold the dry beer...

Think of Rheingold whenever you fry beer...

He arrives, looks down... and stops singing. His eyes widen.

EXT. THE CINDERS BY THE TRACK, ARNIE'S POV NIGHT

We can see the hole where ARNIE put his beer, but it is of

course empty. Beside it are two huge prints in the cinders,

half wolf, half human.

EXT. ARNIE NIGHT

He's beginning to be afraid. Beginning to look around to see

what might be out here with him. Beginning to realize he is

in extremely deep sh*t.

SOUND:
A SHATTERING, SNARLING ROAR

EXT. THE WEREWOLF NIGHT

It rises up on its hind legs, eyes glaring an ugly yellow

green. Its snout wrinkles back, revealing those teeth.

EXT. ARNIE NIGHT

He's craning back to look at the thing, his face a grue of

horror.

ARNIE:

Oh n-

A huge clawed hand/paw comes sweeping down. ARNIE's head is

granted an immediate Reno-style divorce from the rest of his

body.

EXT. THE RAIL-RIDER NIGHT

SOUND of the beast approaching. A hairy arm and taloned hand

reaches into the toolbox bolted to the back and rummages.

The hand is dripping blood.

It comes up with a bottle of Rheingold.

The WEREWOLF begins to sing. It is a bizarre funny-horrible

grunting, the words hellishly recognizable.

WEREWOLF (gutteral; subhuman)

My beer is Rheingold the dry beer...

No bottle opener for this thing; it brings the neck of the

bottle down sharply on the edge of the toolbox. Beer foams

out.

EXT. THE WEREWOLF'S FACE, IN DEEP SHADOW NIGHT

He/It rams the jagged neck of the bottle deep into its mouth

and drinks. Foam drizzles down its pelt. It's grinning.

WEREWOLF (snarling voice)

Think of Rheingold whenever you buy beer...

EXT. THE WEREWOLF, CU NIGHT

The bottle is empty. There are CRUNCHING SOUNDS as it begins

to eat the bottle.

Blood begins to run out of its mouth; its face wrinkles in

pain and fury. It spits out broken, bloody jags of glass.

Looks up. It HOWLS.

EXT. TARKER'S MILLS NIGHT - MOONLIGHT

We're looking at Main Street of a small country town - might

be New England, might be mid-South. Might be 1984, might be

1981. This is Tarker's Mills, and in places like this, time

moves more slowly. Cars - not too many - move back and

forth. No one is in a hurry.

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Stephen King

Stephen Edwin King is an American author of contemporary horror, supernatural fiction, suspense, science fiction, and fantasy. more…

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