FRANKENSTEIN
     
     
                       from the novel by
                       Mary W. Shelley

                       screen story by
                       Steph Lady & James V. Hart

                       previous draft by
                       Steph Lady

                       revised draft by
                       Frank Darabont
     
     
     For TriStar Pictures & American Zoetrope
     2ND REVISED DRAFT February 8, 1993
     
     
     
     
     TITLES UNFOLD IN BLACKNESS as we are lulled by the distant
     flute-like sounds of a recorder. Overall the effect is
     mournful and haunting, elegant and serene ...
     ... and we CRASH TO:
     
     EXT - BARENTS SEA - NIGHT
     
     ... a storm of inconceivable force and violence. Merciless
     arctic winds whip the sea in a frenzy of thirty-foot swells.
     This is the last place in God's creation that any human
     being should be. And yet ...
     
     ...the prow of a three-masted ship rises massively before
     us, looming from the darkness and chaos. it crashes upward
     through a swell and slams back down again, plunging nose-
     first into the trough. The sails on the forward mast are
     still deployed. It's insane; in this weather they should be
     stowed (as is already the case with masts 2 and 3).
     Hurtling toward us. Rising and falling. Thundering through
     the swells. And as she sweeps past CAMERA within a seeming
     hairbreadth, we PAN with the ship and find ourselves ...
     
     EXT - SHIP - NIGHT
     
     ... aboard the "Alexander Nevsky," along for the ride whether
     we like it or not. There are men all around us, dark
     screaming FIGURES glimpsed and half-glimpsed, heavy oilskin
     clothes flapping in the gale.  A GROUP OF MEN are in a life-
     or-death tug of war
     
                              WALTON
          PULL, YOU BASTARDS! PULL!
     
     Riiiiippp! All eyes turn skyward as the uppermost sail tears
     loose, the heavy canvas shredding away in huge billowing
     tatters. The jib-arm wrenches free and plummets toward us,
     trailing rope and fabric. The men dive aside as the jib
     smashes into the deck like an exploding bomb. Splintered
     shards of wood cartwheel through the air like shrapnel.
     Walton catches a glancing blow to the head and slams face-
     down on the pitching deck.
     
     GRIGORI, the first mate, scrambles to Walton's aid. Walton
     shoves him off, pushes painfully to his knees. LIGHTNING
     throws his face into a stark relief map of pain and fury:
     blood is streaming from his hairline, freezing in his eyes,
     staining his teeth. He gazes up at the mainsail, still
     intact and straining against the wind. We hear a huge CRACK!
     The base of the mast is starting to give.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     2
     
                              WALTON
          Cut the damn rigging free before we lose the
          mast!
     
     Long-handled axes are grabbed from their mounts. Frantic men
     begin hacking at the ropes. Walton snatches an axe from a
     passing crewman and elbows his way to the front. He attacks
     a guy-rope with primal fury, CAMERA rising and falling with
     the motion of his axe. Suddenly, a chilling cry from high
     above:
     
                              LOOKOUT (O.S.)
          IIIICEBEEEEERG!
     
     THE CROW'S NEST (MAST #2)
     
     The LOOKOUT is lashed to the mast by means of a safety rope
     knotted at the chest. He points ahead.
     
     WALTON and the others spin to look as A PANORAMIC SHOT OF
     THE BARENTS SEA reveals a magnificent vista of storming
     fury. The ship is heading into an enormous field of icebergs
     dotting the ocean like boulders in a quarry, The Nevsky is
     plying these waters like a man running pell-mell through a
     mine field.
     
     An iceberg passes massively and unexpectedly in the
     foreground, rumbling within yards of the camera, wiping us
     into darkness ...
     
     EXT - NEVSKY - NIGHT
     
     ... and we wipe from darkness as a flapping piece of canvas
     billows away to reveal 'Walton and the crew, gazing in
     breathless horror as an iceberg looms from the gale before
     them like a ghostly white mountain. Walton finds his voice:
     
                              WALTON
          HARD TO PORT!
     
     THE PILOT fights to turn the wheel. Men rush to his aid,
     throw their backs into it, straining to the limit. The wheel
     is grudging, fighting them every inch of the way.
     
     PUSH IN on Walton and the crew:
     
                              GRIGORI
          It's going to ram us.
     
                              WALTON
          It wouldn't dare.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     3
     
     THE CROW'S NEST (MAST #2)
     
     The lookout fumbles under his coat, grabs the rosary around
     his neck, clutches the crucifix tightly in both hands. Face
     white with terror. Breath coming in ragged gasps.
     
     SHIP'S POV
     
     Crashing through the swells. Rising and falling. Tilting the
     world and the audience on its ear. iceberg looming.  For a
     brief moment we seem to be veering past. But then we swing
     back in a final, churning, vertiginous plunge...
     
     ... and smack the ice.
     
     VARIOUS QUICK-CUT ANGLES
     
     God just hit the ship with an anvil. Mast #1 snaps at the
     base with a thunderous CRACK and begins to topple in a
     symphony of shattering wood and tangled rigging ...
     
     The lookout on mast #2 is vaulted through the railing of the
     crow's nest, screaming through the air, arms and legs
     windmilling as he plummets head-first toward the deck below
     ... And is jerked to an abrupt stop by the safety line around
     his chest, We hear another horrible CRACK ... the sound of
     his back breaking ...
     
     Men are sliding, tumbling, screaming. Mast #1 completes its
     fall, slamming massively to the deck,. shattering a section
     of the gunwale to splinters. Utter panic. Total chaos. .
     Sheer mortal terror. And as the sequence builds to a final
     brain-splitting crescendo of sound and fury, we
     
     SMASH CUT TO:
     
     ARCTIC - TWILIGHT
     
     Total, stunning silence.
     
     A glittering wasteland of ice. Breathlessly cold. Even the
     sun seems frozen, barely hanging on the horizon. Pellets of
     snow scour the permafrost like broken glass, driven by a
     desolate arctic wind.  It's as if Hell had erupted through
     the floor of the Earth in the form of ice. Nothing could
     survive here. Nothing.
     SLOW PAN reveals a distant ship frozen in the ice, tilted at
     a permanent list. Silent. We see no signs of life.
     
     SUPE TITLE: "The Arctic, 1839.
     
     VARIOUS LINGERING ANGLES provide ominous detail-shots of the
     Nevsky
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     4

     A flap of frozen canvas creaks in the wind ...
     
     The pilot's wheal is now a crystalline sculpture of ice. The
     forward mast lies across the deck like a broken limb,
     extending out over the ice on a tangle of rigging...
     
     The ship's prow is smashed open above the water line ...
     
     A familiar rosary lies broken on the deck. Beads scattered.
     A tiny Christ figure lies with arms thrown wide, painted
     eyes staring up at the sky through a thin sheet of ice ...
     
     HIGH, HIGH ANGLE
     
     From the top of mast #2. A breathtaking perspective of the
     entire ship below, guaranteed to induce vertigo.  The corpse
     of the lookout is suspended below us at the end of the
     frozen rope, His posture mimics the Christ figure:  His arms
     thrown wide, dead eyes staring up at the sky through a thin
     sheet of ice. A ghastly still-life, the corpse twisting
     ever-so-slightly on the wind, rope creaking ...
     
     A SAILOR thrusts into frame swaying precariously in the
     rigging, WIDEN to reveal TWO MORE MEN as they reach out with
     long gaffing poles to snag the corpse.
     
     EXT - NEVSKY - LOW ANGLE FROM ICE - TWILIGHT
     
     Walton watches them reel the body in. ANGLE SHIFTS as he
     turns, revealing the rest of the crew working desperately to
     free the ship. Axes and picks rise and fall in waves,
     slamming into the ice, throwing up frozen chips. The men are
     near collapse, exhaustion carved in their faces. The dogs
     are nearby, huskies and malamutes huddled in the snow.
     Walton rejoins the men, rams his axe fiercely into the ice.
     
                              WALTON
          Put your backs into it!
     
                              SAILOR #1
          What's the use? This godless ice stretches for
          miles! Would you have us chow our way back to
          England?
     
                              WALTON
          No. But we'll chop our way to the North Pole if
          we have to. Inch by bloody inch.
     
                              GRIGORI
          You can't mean to go on! Our journey is ended!
          The best we can hope for now is to get out of this
          alive!
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     5
                              SAILOR #2
          Aye, if the ice ever lets us!
     
                              WALTON
          The ice will break. And when it does, we proceed
          north ... as planned.
     
     Cries of dismay from the men. Grigori thrusts his arm toward
     the sky, pointing at the corpse on the mast.
     
                              GRIGORI
          At the cost of how many more lives?
     
     He's interrupted by a long, chilling HOWL. The lead husky
     rises to its feet, hackles up, HOWLING at some unseen thing
     in the distance. The other dogs start rising around him,
     joining in, staring off across the ice.
     
                              GRIGORI
          There's something out there.
     
     The dogs are going berserk. The lead husky breaks free and
     launches himself across the ice. The men scramble to
     restrain the animals, but three more break away and take off
     after their leader. Walton snatches up his rifle.
     
                              WALTON
          You five come with me! The rest stay with the
          ship!
     
     EXT - ARCTIC PANORAMA - TWILIGHT
     
     The Nevsky in the distance. The dogs come howling across the
     ice toward us. The men trail substantially behind.
     
     BOOM DOWN to the icy boulders f.g. A massive hand comes
     briefly to rest in one of the crags, ghastly gray skin
     rippling with harsh ligaments and sinewy veins, brutal
     surgical scars marring the wrist. A HUGE DARK FIGURE wipes
     frame, fleeing into the rocks. The dogs come bounding past
     in pursuit, snarling and slavering.
     
     THE RUNNING MEN hear an INHUMAN HOWL rise amidst those of
     the dogs. A vicious free-for-all echoes from the rocks.
     Barking gives way to shrill squeals. An object is launched
     from the crags, catapulted through the air in a high arc.
     Some men slip and fall as the object slams to the ground
     with tremendous impact before them ...
     
     ...and they find themselves staring in horror At the sight
     of the lead dog. Silence now. Those who have fallen, rise.
     Walton cocks his rifle. The group proceeds, picks and axes
     held ready, slowly skirting the rocks ...
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     6
     ... and the massacre is revealed. Blood-stained ice. Dead,
     mangled animals strewn about. One twitching survivor crawls
     toward them on broken limbs, whining piteously, dragging its
     entrails in a red smear.
     
                              GRIGORI
          Look.
     
     They follow his gaze. Bloody tracks lead away from the
     bodies, ascending the rocks. Most are smeared and vague ...
     but one is clearly a bare human footprint.  Several men
     cross themselves. Walton shoulders the rifle, aims down at
     the surviving dog. BLAM! A single bullet to the brain ends
     its misery, punching a halo of blood onto the ice. The shot
     echoes for miles.
     
                              WALTON
          Back to the ship.
     
     EXT - NEVSKY - ESTABLISHING - NIGHT
     
     Silhouetted against the aurora borealis. The horizon swirls
     mysteriously with color and light. Distant slivers of
     lightning kiss the earth.  Men keep watch in furtive groups,
     huddled against the cold, breath punching the air with
     billows of vapor. A massive CRACKLING is heard. A YOUNG
     SAILOR spins, jumpy.
     
                              OLD SAILOR
          Only the ice to starboard, boy.
     
                              YOUNG SAILOR
          Is it breaking up?
     
                              OLD SAILOR
          Just dancing on the current. It'll freeze even
          tighter come next wind
     
     CAMERA DRIFTS past to another group:
     
                              SAILOR #4
          It was a polar bear. That's what I say.
     
                              SAILOR #5
          Say all you want, but you weren't there. It left
          human tracks.
     
                              SAILOR #6
          No man could tear those dogs apart
     
                              SAILOR #5
          No human. We've roused a demon from the ice.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     7
     
     CLANG-CLANG! The men spin. A SAILOR on starboard has rung
     the signal bell. The men race over, crowding the gunwale.
     
                              SAILOR
          Something. In the mist.
     
     Walton appears from his cabin and crowds his way to the
     front, rifle aimed at the sky. The men wait. Holding their
     breath. Scanning the darkness.
     
     AN APPARITION looms eerily from the mist on a creaking floe
     of ice, silhouetted by the shifting light of the borealis.
     The figure's pose is uncanny and weird: neither standing nor
     kneeling, but something in between, arm dangling at its side
     and lolling slowly with the motion of the current.
     
                              YOUNG SAILOR
          It's the demon! Shoot while you've a chance!
     
     The Pilot lights the kerosene wick of a reflector box"
     spotlight and swings it around. The beam seeks out the
     specter and pins it in a dim circle of light ... revealing a
     man collapsed on a dog sled, lashed to tiller upright
     stanchions with frozen leather straps, Dead dogs lie in icy
     heaps around him.
     
     EXT - NEVSKY - NIGHT
     
     The men venture onto the shifting ice with lanterns raised.
     Grappling lines are unslung and thrown, the ice floe
     snagged. Gaffs reach out, drawing it closer. Men clasp arms,
     forming a human chain. Grigori is the first to reach the
     motionless figure on the dog sled.
     
                              WALTON
          Dead?
     
     Grigori cautiously eases his hand into the darkness of the
     furred hood to search the neck for a pulse ...
     ... and the figure scares the s-hit out of him. With a
     convulsive shudder and a gasping intake of breath, the hood
     rises up, revealing a haggard face tortured white with
     frost, beard frozen solid, eyes blazingly intelligent and
     aware. Walton finds himself in an extended beat of eye
     contact with VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN.
     
     EXT - NEVSKY - ON DECK - NIGHT
     
     A HOWLING WIND has kicked up, pelting the huddled sentries
     with sleet. CAMERA TRACKS past, moving steadily toward the
     dimly-glowing window of Walton's cabin ...
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     8
     
     INT - WALTON'S CABIN - NIGHT
     
     ... where we find Walton and Grigori in tense discussion:
     
                              GRIGORI
          Captain, I implore you. The men are frightened
          and angry. They want your assurance.
     
                              WALTON
          They knew the risks when they signed on. I've
          come too far to turn back now.
     
                              GRIGORI
          Then you run the danger of pushing them to
          mutiny.
     
     Walton pulls a pistol from his drawer and slams it flat on
     the table before him.
     
                              WALTON
               (low, tight)
          Let them try.
     
     Grigori is taken aback. He hears a shifting of blankets and
     glances to the captain's bed. Walton follows his look.
     Frankenstein has awakened and is watching them.
     
     Grigori exits, uneasy under Frankenstein's gaze. Walton
     rises, retrieves a pot from the stove.
     
                              WALTON
          You're awake. I've prepared some broth. It'll
          help restore you.
     
                              VICTOR
               (hoarse, faltering)
          I'm ... dying.
     
     Victor draws a hand from under the blanket and holds it
     before his face. Fingers skeletal and black.
     
                              VICTOR
          Frostbite. Gangrene. A simple diagnosis.
     
                              WALTON
          Are you a physician?
     
                              VICTOR
               (faint smile)
          How is it you come to be here?
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     9
     
                              WALTON
          There's a startling question, coming from you.
               (beat)
          I'm captain of this ship. We sailed from
          Archangel a month ago, seeking a passage to the
          North Pole.
     
                              VICTOR
          Ah. An explorer.
     
                              WALTON
          Would-be. I'm plagued with my share of
          difficulties just at the moment.
     
                              VICTOR
          I heard.
     
                              WALTON
          I can't say I blame them. We're trapped in this
          ice and bedeviled by some sort of ... creature.
     
                              VICTOR
          Creature? A ... human like creature?
     
                              WALTON
               (stunned)
          You know of it?
     
                              VICTOR
          Your men are right to be afraid.
     
                              WALTON
          Then explain it, whatever it is. It could save
          the voyage. I've spent years planning this. My
          entire fortune
     
                              VICTOR
          You'd persist at the cost of your own life? The
          lives of your crew?
     
                              WALTON
          Lives are ephemeral. The knowledge we gain, the
          achievements we leave behind ... those live on.
     
     Victor reaches out with his blackened claw of a hand, pulls
     him closer. Impassioned, intense:
     
                              VICTOR
          Do you share my madness?
     
                              WALTON
          Madness?
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     10
     
     CAMERA PUSHES SLOWLY on Victor's face ...
     
                              VICTOR
          We are kindred, you and I. Men of ambition. Let
          me tell you all that I have lost in such pursuits.
          I pray my story will come to mean for you all that
          is capricious and evil in man.
     
                              WALTON
               (angry, frightened)
          Who are you?
     
                              VICTOR
               (beat)
          My name is Frankenstein
     
     ... and CAMERA proceeds into the bottomless depths of
     Victor's staring eye, plunging us into:
     
     TOTAL DARKNESS. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.  A METRONOME fades up
     before us.
     
     WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
     Failure has no pride, Victor. You must try again.
     
     LITTLE BOY (O.S.
     Yes, Ma'am.
     
     INT - GRAND BALLROOM - FRANKENSTEIN MMSION - DAY
     
     We hear a HARPSICHORD begin playing as a WIDER ANGLE reveals
     a huge, Magnificent room with vaulted ceilings thirty feet
     high. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Hanging tapestries.
     
     VICTOR sits at the harpsichord, a very serious 7 year-old in
     his little gentleman's suit and stiff starched collar.
     
     MRS. MORITZ, head of the housekeeping staff, conducts the
     lesson. Her daughter JUSTINE, age 4, sits with her doll in a
     huge wingback chair, making it dance to the music as she
     listens ... but her eyes are on Victor. She adores him.
     
     An enormous door swings open. Victor stops playing. His
     PARENTS enter, ushering a somber and beautiful ELIZABETH,
     age 6, across the vast expanse of floor. Victor slides off
     the bench and faces them.
     
                              FATHER
          Mrs. Moritz, would you and your daughter excuse
          us?
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     11
     
                              MRS. MORITZ
          Of course, Doctor. Madam. Come along, Justine.
          Bring your dolly.
     
     Mrs. Moritz takes Justine's hand. Justine gazes back at
     Victor and Elizabeth as her mother whisks her off.
     
                              MOTHER
          Victor. This is Elizabeth. She's coming to live
          with us.
     
                              FATHER
          She has lost her parents to scarlet fever. She is
          an orphan.
     
                              MOTHER
          You must think of her as your own sister. You
          must look after her. And be kind to her.
     
     Victor stares at Elizabeth. She returns the gaze evenly,
     self-possessed and dignified even at this young age.
     
                              ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.)
          I loved her from the moment that I first saw her.
     
     EXT - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - NIGHT
     
     A MASSIVE BOLT OF LIGHTNING hammers from the sky, reducing a
     centuries-old oak tree to smoldering ruin ...
     
     INT - DOWNSTAIRS PARL0R - NIGHT
     
     ... while '(slaps them on the bed) ' gazes at the storm,
     face pressed against a window, astonished at the sight.
     Lightning throws seething shadows of the rain on his face.
     his '... and Grigori breaks the surface again, rising slowly
     And impossibly from the water. arms and legs windmill
     against the air, propelled from below with nearly aulic
     strength. He gazes down in shock at the massive fist
     clutching his chest ... and the arm ' appears.
     
                              MOTHER
          Victor. Elizabeth is frightened by the storm. Go
          comfort her.
     
     INT - UPPER LANDING - NIGHT
     
     We hear a CHILD SOBBING. Victor comes racing up the grand
     staircase from below as LIGHTNING sends wild banister
     shadows Littering. He caroms down the hall toward:
     
     INT - ELIZABETH'S ROOM - NIGHT
     
     Victor enters. Elizabeth is a tiny figure huddled in an
     adult-size bed, gazing up with tear-streaked face at the
     huge skylights in the vaulted ceiling, dreading the next
     scary boom and flash. Victor approaches and whispers:
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     12
                              VICTOR
          Don't cry, Elizabeth.
     
                              ELIZABETH
               (frightened)
          Aren't you?
     
     KA-BOOM! A LIGHTNING BOLT rips overhead, rattling the panes
     of glass. Victor does find it scary ... but exhilarating.
     
                              VICTOR
          We'll build a fort. So the lightning can't get
          us.
     
     He races about the room, grabbing every pillow he can find
     and hurling them to her. Big decorative pillows from the
     chaise, bed pillows from the armoire ... they all come
     flying. She giggles as a big one knocks her flat. Victor
     scampers onto the bed with her. They pile the pillows around
     and above, concealing themselves in a bulging heap of
     cushions.
     
     INSIDE THE PILLOW-FORT
     
     Victor pokes his hand up, widening a space so they can still
     see. Lightning glistens in their upturned eyes.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Are you sure it can't hurt us?
     
                              VICTOR
          Nothing can. Not ever.
     
     She seeks his hand. Fingers clasp. Comfort and strength.
     TILT UP to the skylight. Rain drumming the glass ...
     
     INT - MANSION - GRAND BALLROOM - DAY
     
     Victor and Elizabeth are learning to waltz, their movements
     stiff and awkward, childlike. MRS. MORITZ is at the
     harpsichord. Justine sits with her dolly, watching.
     
                              MRS. MORITZ
          You must lead, Victor. The lady will always look
          to you for guidance, so your steps must be sure
          and strong ...
     
                              VICTOR
          Mrs. Moritz.
     
                              MRS. MORITZ
          ... aaand, one-two-three, one-two- three, twirl-
          two-three ...
     
                              JUSTINE
          Mama, can I dance with Victor?
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     13
     
                              MRS. MORITZ
          Nonsense, Justine. Hush. And now a sweeping arc
          about the room! one- two-three, twirl-two-three
     
     
     Victor and Elizabeth gamely work their way across the vast
     room, tripping on each other's toes. They pass within inches
     of CAMERA, bodies WIPING FRAME ...
     
     INT - GRAND BALLROOM - DAY (TEN YEARS LATER)
     
     ... and they sweep from before our eyes, waltzing away from
     camera to reveal Victor now 17, intense and handsome as he
     approaches manhood. Elizabeth is a blossoming and graceful
     beauty at 16. Mrs. Moritz is still conducting the lessons,
     but the person at t
     
                              MRS. MORITZ
          ... one-two-three, twirl-two-three.. Excellent!
          You'll be the envy of all the young ladies and
          gentlemen!
     
     They're certainly the envy of Justine, who gazes at Victor
     as he sweeps Elizabeth around the room in his arms. She
     isn't concentrating and fumbles on the keyboard. Her mother
     throws her a look of reproval:
     
                              MRS. MORITZ
          Justine. Surely you can maintain better time than
          that.
     
                              JUSTINE
          Yes, Mama.
     
     Flustered, she puts her attention back on the keyboard as
     Victor and Elizabeth keep dancing, swirling fluidly about
     the room, their attention only on each other.
     
     INT - UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT
     
     A skylight above us. A storm is raging, rain drumming the
     glass. We hear SCREAMING in the house. TILT DOWN to Victor
     perched at the edge of a settee, seething with tension.
     Waiting. Elizabeth is with him. She squeezes his arm, trying
     to reassure him.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          She'll be all right.
     
     Another SCREAM rips down the hallway. Justine comes
     scurrying up the stairs, about to enter his parent's room
     with a fresh load of sheets. Victor lunges to his feet and
     intercepts, trying to push past her, but finds the doorway
     implacably blocked by Mrs. Moritz.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     14
     
                              MRS. MORITZ
          You can do nothing here. Wait downstairs.
     
     He can see his mother in the dim kerosene light, writhing
     and screaming on the bed, belly swollen and distended. His
     father, sleeves rolled up, works feverishly to save her.
     
                              VICTOR
          Mother?
     
                              FATHER
          Victor, do as you're told!
     
     Justine glances at Victor, longing to comfort him. She
     squeezes past into the room. The door slams in his face. He
     turns to Elizabeth, eyes brimming with terror ...
     
     INT - PARENTS' BEDROOM - NIGHT
     
     ... as his mother falls back on the sweat-soaked sheets,
     blowing air like a bellows, trying to give birth ...
     
     EXT - MANSION - NIGHT
     
     ... while her SCREAMS mingle with the howling of the wind.
     the stump of the long-dead oak tree pokes from the earth in
     the foreground like a gravestone, lashed by the rain.
     
     INT - DOWNSTAIRS PARLOR - NIGHT
     
     VICTOR stares out the window at the raging storm. Elizabeth
     appears at his side. He doesn't look at her.
     
                              VICTOR
          As a boy, I stood at this window and watched God
          destroy our tree.
     
     b.g screaming stops, Victor and Elizabeth turn, gazing up
     the grand staircase. The sudden silence is even more
     frightening. The FAINT CRY of a newborn infant drifts down
     
     A door opens upstairs, throwing a spill of light. Victor's
     father appears in silhouette, comes down the stairs toward
     them. He pauses halfway down, unable to continue.
     
                              VICTOR
          Father?
     
     A FLASH OF LIGHTNING floods the room, revealing Victor's
     father on the staircase. Face haggard. Eyes hollow. Clothes
     spattered with blood. Hands glistening wetly red.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Oh God.
          The blood.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     15
     
     Father sits down shakily on a step. Victor and Elizabeth
     race up the stairs and pause before him.
     
                              FATHER
          I did everything I could.
     
     Victor lets out a sob of anguish. Elizabeth begins to cry.
     Father gathers them into his arms.
     
     EXT - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - CEMETERY - DAY
     
     A BABY CARRIAGE stands amidst leaning gravestones, gothic
     and ornate, a chill breeze billowing the lace.
     
     A PRIEST recites a Latin burial mass. DOZENS OF MOURNERS are
     gathered before the Frankenstein family mausoleum ... an
     imposing edifice of stone and spidery wrought-iron, its
     steepled roof crowned by a massive granite crucifix.
     
     A sleek black casket lies atop the bier, ringed with flowers
     and sorrow. The trees are windswept and bare, branches stark
     against a steely gray sky. Victor and Elizabeth stand apart
     from the others, staring at the casket. Softly:
     
                              VICTOR
          How could all my father's knowledge and skill
          fail to save her?
     
                              ELIZABETH
          It's not ours to decide. All that live must die.
          It's God's will.
     
     Victor raises a grim look at the huge crucifix atop the
     mausoleum. Christ returns his gaze with blank stone eyes
     
                              VICTOR
          What kind of God is He to will this?
     
                              ELIZABETH
          She was mother to me as well. But ours is the job
          of the living. It's up to us now to hold this
          family together. We must think of Father and be
          strong for him.
               (beat)
          I cannot do that alone.
     
                              VICTOR
          God took her from us.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          He left a beautiful gift in her place. A baby
          boy. To cherish and love as our very own. Your
          brother
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     16
     Victor glances at the baby carriage. He seeks her hand.
     Their fingers clasp. Comfort and strength.
     
                              VICTOR
          Our brother.
     
     The baby starts CRYING as the casket is lowered, its thin
     voice carried on the wind ...
     
     EXT - MEADOW - DAY
     
     A gorgeous, sun-dappled day. Tall grass waving on the
     breeze. Butterflies skittering. WILLIAM, 11 months-old,
     toddles into view. He doesn't get far. PLOP! Down he goes,
     right on his ass. His face scrunches up in surprise and he
     bursts into tears.
     
     Elizabeth hurries over and scoops him up, cradling and
     comforting him. Victor rises from a picnic blanket to join
     them. Nanny Justine looks up from her task of laying out the
     silverware and food.
     
                              JUSTINE
          Poor William! What indignant tears!
     
                              ELIZABETH
          There, there ... shhh ...
     
     Victor takes the baby and swoops him high in the air. The
     child shrieks and wails, held aloft.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Victor, have a care! You'll make him dizzy!
     
                              VICTOR
          The world is a dizzying place.
     
     She tries to reclaim the baby. Victor feints, keeping Willie
     out of reach. Elizabeth grows crosser:
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Oh, do give him here! He needs to be comforted
          and held!
     
                              VICTOR
          He needs to vent his outrage to the skies! Make
          yourself heard, Willie! Learning to walk is not an
          easy thing! Why should it be so?
     
     Elizabeth is exasperated to realize that the baby has begun
     to laugh. She glares at both of them. Men.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     17
     
                              ELIZABETH
          That's the nature of all progress, William. Don't
          let your brother sway you otherwise.
     
                              JUSTINE
          Quite right!
     
     Victor cradles Willie as if to shield his delicate ears. He
     peers at Elizabeth with mock-grave suspicion and speaks to
     the baby sotto-voce, in deepest confidence, man-to-man:
     
                              VICTOR
          Don't listen, Willie. Progress is a feast to be
          consumed. Women would have you believe you must
          walk before you can run. or run before you can
          waltz!
     
                              ELIZABETH
               (laughing)
          Give me that child before you fill his head with
          drivel!
     
     Victor waltzes the baby in circles. Elizabeth stalks them.
     
                              VICTOR
          Devil take walking, ladies! My brother shall
          learn to waltz!
     
     He grabs her by the waist, pulls her into it. There's no use
     resisting. She succumbs and they dance with the baby between
     them. Justine is gasping with laughter.
     
                              JUSTINE
          Elizabeth, really! He's quite mad!
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Scandalous! What would your dear mother say?
     
                              JUSTINE
               (thinks a beat)
          one-two-three, one-two-three, twirl-two-three ...
     
     Laughing, Victor and Elizabeth waltz little William around
     in a sweeping arc. They pass within inches of the CAMERA,
     bodies wiping frame ...
     
     INT - GRAND BALLROOM - NIGHT (6 YEARS LATER)
     
          ... and 'Come now. Magnus? Agrippa? Next thing you know,
     you''ll be teaching toadstools to speak.' and CREATURE sweep
     from before our eyes to reveal the grand ballroom ablaze
     with candlelight and spectacle as a HUNDRED DANCERS swirl
     about the floor in a
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     18
     
     breathtaking waltz to the music of a full string ensemble
     (NOTE: The music here should be our movie's distinctive
     WALTZ/LOVE THEME, which will reoccur later.)
     
     Victor and Elizabeth dance magnificently, room spinning
     about them in a blur. Now 24, he's in the prime of manhood.
     Elizabeth, 23, is a drop-dead beauty radiating poise and
     intelligence. They're so right for each other, so beautiful
     together, your heart could break just looking at them.
     
     Justine, now 21, has blossomed into a beauty herself. She's
     at the sidelines, wearing a lovely gown, wishing someone
     would ask her to dance. William, now 7, scampers to her
     side. She stoops to straighten his collar and smooth back
     his hair. Waltzing couples swirl past them.
     
                              WILLIE
          Auntie Justine, Papa said I could have a sweet.
     
                              JUSTINE
          You can. But not before dinner.
     
     The music ends amidst applause. The men bow to the ladies,
     the ladies curtsy in return. Victor escorts Elizabeth off
     the dance floor. Elizabeth fans herself, flushed and happy.
     
                              JUSTINE
          You dance so beautifully together.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          And you look so lovely.
     
     They share a sisterly hug and a radiant smile. The orchestra
     recommences. The music is lush. Justine looks hopefully to
     Victor, keeping her tone light:
     
                              JUSTINE
          Victor? Spare me one dance?
     
     Elizabeth catches Victor's eye.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Go on, ask her.  Please. I'm quite out of breath,
     
     Victor gallantly offers his arm. Justine takes it, lighting
     up as he escorts her onto the dance floor ...
     
     ...and they begin to dance. She's glowing. This is a big
     moment for her. But they've hardly begun, when...
     
     ...ting-ting-ting, Victor's father is tapping a champagne
     glass with a knife. The dancers stop. The orchestra falls
     silent. Justine hides her disappointment as servants pass
     among the guests with glasses of champagne.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     19
     
                              FATHER
          My friends, fatherly pride won't allow this
          occasion to pass without my raising a toast.
     
     Shouts of assent. Victor is grabbed by his friends and
     dragged forward, a glass of champagne shoved in his hands
     
                              FATHER
          To Victor. My son. Who read every medical book in
          my library by age thirteen ... and then re-read
          them, which seemed excessive even to me.
               (the guests ROAR with laughter)
          Drape yourself in glory, my boy.  Study well.
          When you return, you return a man of medicine. I
          will then be honored to call you "colleague."
     
                              VICTOR
          But never your equal.
     
                              FATHER
          No. You'll surpass me.
     
     Applause and roars of approval. The drinks are tossed back.
     Victor is jostled with backslaps and handshakes.
     
     EXT - MANSION -'NIGHT
     
     Music and warm light spill from the windows. A COUPLE eases
     through a French door and come racing across the lawn,
     giggling and hushing each other. They take refuge under a
     tree, revealing their faces to the moonlight: Victor and
     Elizabeth. She leans against the trunk to catch her breath.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Smell the air. Wonderful.
     
                              VICTOR
          Quite a send-off, isn't it?
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Father's so proud.
     
                              VICTOR
          And you?
     
     ELIZABETH Prouder still. You'll be the handsomest student
     there.
     
                              VICTOR
          I'll have to do better than that.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     20
     
                              ELIZABETH
          You will.
               (searches his eyes)
          What do you want, Victor?
     
                              VICTOR
          To be the best there ever was. To push our
          knowledge beyond our dreams ... to eradicate
          disease and pestilence ... to purge mankind of
          ignorance and fear ...
     
     He's so serious, she can't help laugh.
     
                              VICTOR
          I'm not mad.
     
     She smiles, smoothes a lock of hair gently off his forehead.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          No. Just very earnest. And very dear.
     
     An extended moment. Unspoken words flowing between them.
     Victor leans forward and kisses her. Her eyes widen
     slightly. So do his. Shared excitement, gentle and sexy
     beyond belief. They pause, draw back, searching each other's
     eyes. He whispers:
     
                              VICTOR
          I've loved you all my life
     
                              ELIZABETH
          All my life live known.
     
     They kiss again. A breath. A shiver.
     
                              VICTOR
          This feels ... incestuous.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          is that what makes it so delicious?
     
     She brushes her lips against his. Gentle as a sigh.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Brother and sister still?
     
                              VICTOR
          I wish to be your husband.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          I wish to be your wife.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     21
     
                              VICTOR
          Then come with me to Ingolstadt. Marry me now.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          If only I could. But one of us must stay.
          Father's not strong. Willie's just a child. Who
          can look after them in your absence? Who can run
          the estate?
     
                              VICTOR
          Only you
     
                              ELIZABETH
          I will be here when you return,
     
     Another kiss. Turning lustful and steamy. They melt into
     each other, sinking down, bodies pressing and minds afire.
     These people are hot for each other. They stop, stunned at
     the intensity. He lays his head to her breast. Their fingers
     clasp. She whispers her secret:
     
                              ELIZABETH
          My head is spinning. I want to give myself to
          you.
     
     He raises his head. She meets his gaze evenly
     
                              ELIZABETH
          If we're to be married, must we wait?
     
     He touches her face. Fingertips tracing downward, gentle and
     reverent, brushing the contours of her bosom at the edge of
     her bodice. She shivers. Closes her eyes. Lays her hand over
     his. Guiding his touch.
     
                              VICTOR
          You make me weak.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Not as weak as I.
     
     She raises his hand to her mouth. Brushing his fingertips
     with her lips. Wrestling with desire. Their eyes meet.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Our decision. Together.
     
                              VICTOR
          Your decision. For us,
     
                              ELIZABETH
               (hesitates)
     
          I give you my soul ...
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     22
     
                              VICTOR
               (nods)
          ... until our wedding night. When our bodies will
          join.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Victor. I love you,
     
                              VICTOR
          Elizabeth. My more than sister.
     
     They kiss again. Gently ...
     
     EXT - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - CEMETERY - DAWN
     
     A misty gray dawn. Victor is kneeling at a gravestone,
     observing a moment of silence. His saddled horse is tethered
     nearby. Softly:
     
                              VICTOR
          I'll make you so proud, Mother.
     
     He lays a small sprig of flowers on the grave, rises and
     walks toward his horse.
     
     EXT - MANSION - MORNING
     
     Overcast and chill. An open carriage stands loaded. The
     family and household staff have turned out. Victor stands
     ready to go. Father pulls him into a back-slapping embrace.
     
                              FATHER
          Write to us often.
     
     Victor moves on to Justine, takes her hand.
     
                              VICTOR
          We never finished our dance.
               (she smiles)
          Someday we shall.
     
     Next is William. The little boy stands stiffly, tears on his
     face, trying to be brave. Victor kneels and whispers:
     
                              VICTOR
          The others will look to you while I'm gone,
          Willie. Be strong.
     
     The boy nods miserably, throws his arms around Victor's
     neck. Last comes Elizabeth. She and Victor regard each
     other, sharing the secret of last night. A faint smile plays
     at the corners of her mouth. He kisses her cheek.
     
                              VICTOR
          Elizabeth.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     23
     
     He mounts the carriage. CLAUDE snaps the reins and lurches
     away, speeding Victor off to his future. Victor turns back
     for a final look at the home and family he loves so much.
     William runs after him until he's gone from sight ...
     
     DISSOLVE TO:
     
     INGOLSTADT - ESTABLISHING ANGLES - DAY
     
     High white clouds in a blazing blue sky. Church steeples
     rising among the rooftops. Beautiful.
     
     BOARDING HOUSE - DAY
     
     FRAU BRACH trudges heavily up a long, steep, narrow flight
     of stairs with Victor teetering uneasily behind.
     
                              FRAU BRACH
          No real rooms left. All we've got is attic space.
          No one ever wants the attic space ...
     
     ATTIC SPACE/GARRET - DAY
     
     She leads him into an immensely long space running a twisted
     path the entire length of the building; various levels and
     areas unhindered by wall separation, massive vaulted beams
     crisscrossing as understructure to the roof. Daylight
     filters dimly through dozens of dormer windows and skylights
     coated with grime. Nooks and crannies abound.
     
                              VICTOR
          This will do nicely.
     
     UNIVERSITY - DAY
     
     A monumental structure of brick. A BELL TOWER TOLLS. Dead
     leaves scurry across the lawn.
     
     LECTURE HALL - DAY
     
     PROFESSOR KREMPE, a squat little man, paces before the
     packed galleries of eager young STUDENTS.
     
                              KREMPE
          In science, the letter of fact is the letter of
          law. Our pursuit is as dogmatic as any religious
          precept. Think of yourselves as disciples of a
          strict and hallowed sect. Someday you may be
          priests ... but only if you learn the scripture
          chapter and verse.
               (off their laughter)
          Any questions?
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     24
     
                              VICTOR
               (hand shoots up)
          But surely, Professor, you don't intend we
          disregard the more ... philosophical works.
     
                              KREMPE
          Philosophical?
     
                              VICTOR
          Those which stir the imagination as well as the
          intellect. Paracelsus, for one.
     
     This reference is lost on all but a few. At the faculty
     table: PROFESSOR WALDMAN peers up at Victor, adjusting the
     glasses on his nose. Up among the students: HENRY CLERVAL
     leans out and shoots an amused look in Victor's direction.
     SCHILLER catches Henry's look and rolls his eyes.
     
                              KREMPE
          Paracelsus?
     
                              VICTOR
          Or Albertus Magnus. Cornelius Agrippa ...
     
                              KREMPE
          What is your name?
     
                              VICTOR
          Victor Frankenstein, sir.
               (no response)
          Of Geneva
     
                              KREMPE
          Of Geneva.
               (beat)
          Tell me, Mr. Frankenstein of Geneva. Do you wish
          to study medicine? Or mysticism?
     
     Titters sweep the room. Krempe remains staunchly unamused:
     
                              KREMPE
          Those of you unfamiliar with Mr. Frankenstein's
          suggested reading list ... thankfully, that would
          be most of you ... would be well advised to avoid
          it. Here at Ingolstadt, we concern ourselves with
          immutable reality...
               (specific to Victor)
          ...not the ravings of lunatics and alchemists
          hundreds of years in their graves. Understood?
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     25
     
     Victor is flushed and humiliated. Held like to say more, but
     wisely swallows his anger and nods.
     
                              KREMPE
          I am relieved. Are there any relevant questions?
               (there are none)
          Lecture hall dismissed.
     
     EXT - UNIVERSITY - DAY
     Victor exits wearing a distinctive black greatcoat, fuming
     over the exchange with Krempe. He strides across the lawn,
     eyes fixed straight ahead.
     
     Henry Clerval races up behind him and falls casually in
     step. Victor glances over. Henry nods pleasantly, as if held
     been there all along. Victor responds with a curt nod and
     resumes his straight-ahead demeanor. They walk in silence,
     just two guys heading in the same direction.
     
     Henry can't help it; he snickers loudly to himself. Victor
     shoots him a sharp look. Henry's smirk vanishes, replaced
     with blank innocence. Did somebody snicker?
     
                              HENRY
          I was just clearing my throat.
     
                              VICTOR
          Very well then.
     
     They continue walking. Silence thick. Finally:
     
                              HENRY
          You know, you're quite mad.
     
     Victor stops. Turns
     
                              VICTOR
               (low, measured)
          I am not mad.
     
                              HENRY
               (matching Victor's tone)
          As a march hare.
     
     Henry's expression betrays nothing ... but perhaps there's a
     trace of amusement in his eyes?
     
                              VICTOR
          Are you having me on?
     
                              HENRY
          Of course I am. It pays to humor the insane.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     26
     
     Beat. Victor smiles. Henry grins, offers his hand. takes it.
     
                              HENRY
          Henry Clerval.
     
                              VICTOR
          Victor, Victor Frankenstein.
     
                              HENRY
          I know. You have a way of making an impression.
     
     INT - GASTHOF - DUSK
     
     The tavern is packed with students and noise. Beer and food
     served at a frantic pace. We find Victor and Henry at a
     small table, tearing into sausages and cheese.
     
                              VICTOR
          Do you really think I'm mad?
     
                              HENRY
          Come now. Magnus? Agrippa? Next thing you know,
          you'll be teaching toadstools to speak.
     
     Schiller enters with FRIENDS. They pause at Victor's table
     
                              SCHILLER
          if it isn't the sorcerer. Found yourself an
          apprentice?
     
                              VICTOR
          I'm afraid I rejected his application. He merely
          dabbles
     
                              HENRY
          Dilettantes need not apply. What about you?
          Schiller, isn't it?
     
                              SCHILLER
          Von Schiller. I'm interested in real medicine.
          Treating the sick
     
                              HENRY
          Really? I myself find sick people rather
          revolting.
               (off their looks)
          I'm here to secure my degree with a minimum of
          fuss and hard work that I might settle into a life
          of privilege treating rich old ladies with gout
          and dallying with their daughters.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     27
     
                              SCHILLER
          You two disgust me.
     
     Schiller and his friends stalk off.
     
     EXT - INGOLSTADT - DUSK
     
     LONG LENS magnificently compresses buildings and steeples,
     distant hills and drizzly sky. Victor wears his greatcoat as
     he and Henry walk along a twisty cobblestone street.
     
                              VICTOR
          Rich old ladies and their daughters?
     
                              HENRY
          Can you think of a better reason?
     
                              VICTOR
          Quite a few.
     
                              HENRY
          Do me a favor then ...
               (claps his shoulder)
           ... keep them to yourself.
     
     Victor takes a shocked beat and bursts into laughter,
     
     INT - AUTOPSY ROOM - DAY
     
     Waldman, in sinock, addresses a GROUP OF STUDENTS from
     across morgue slab. He throws a sheet back to reveal a
     corpse dissected to reveal the inner workings. The others
     crowd for a closer look. Victor glances to Henry, who leans
     back and rolls his eyes in utter disgust.
     
     INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY
     
     PUSHING SLOWLY IN on Victor sitting at a tall dormer window,
     writing a letter with quill and ink. It's raining outside.
     The garret is tidied.
     
     EXT - RYE FIELDS - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - LATE DAY
     
     WORKERS are harvesting for miles around. PAN to Elizabeth
     and Claude examining the sheaves on a wagon. She cracks the
     grain and tastes it, glances to Claude. He smiles and nods.
     
                              CLAUDE
          It's turning out to be a good year.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Let's return a tenth of the crop to the tenants.
               (off his look)
          They had a hard winter.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     28
     
                              CLAUDE
          Not even your father would be that generous.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Then there's no need to tell him, is there?
     
     Claude grins and motions to his MEN. They resume loading the
     sheaves as a STABLEBOY rides up:
     
                              STABLEBOY
          Miss! The mail arrived! There's one from Master
          Victor!
     
     INT - FRANKENSTEIN PARLOR - NIGHT
     
     We find the family gathered around the fire as Elizabeth
     reads Victor's letter aloud:
     
                              ELIZABETH
          ... and not a day goes by that I do not cherish
          your faces in my mind's eye or ache to see you all
          again. Be assured that I am with you in spirit,
          and you are never far from my thoughts. I remain,
          as always, your loving and devoted Victor. P.S.
     
     
     She pauses, reading ahead.
     
     INSERT OF LETTER
     
     The P.S. reads: "Elizabeth ... I am holding our vow precious
     in my heart."
     
                              ELIZABETH
          glances up at their expectant faces.
     
                              WILLIE
          What does it say?
     
                              ELIZABETH
          It says, give Willie an extra big hug for me.
     
                              WILLIAM
               (beaming)
          Read it again?
     
     She smiles, rearranges the pages as we
     
     FADE TO:
     
     29
     
     INT - UNIVERSITY HALLWAY - DAY
     
     A classroom door. SHOUTING from within:
     
                              VICTOR (O.S.)
          That's no excuse for being a pompous ass!
     
     Victor storms out with Krempe at his heels. Krempe pauses in
     the doorway, red-faced, bellowing after him:
     
                              KREMPE
          I'll see you thrown out of this university! I'll
          go to the dean himself! Take me at my word,
          Frankenstein! The dean himself!
     
     Classroom doors are opening, faces peering out. Waldman
     among them. Victor keeps going, doesn't look back.
     
     INT - GASTHOF - NIGHT
     
     Victor and Henry slouched at their regular table writes in
     his thick, well-worn leather journal.
     
                              HENRY
          The entire school heard it. It wasn't something
          one could miss.
     
                              VICTOR
          You're a comfort to me, Henry.
     
                              HENRY
          What now? Writing about it in your journal won't
          help.
     
                              VICTOR
               (quietly)
          It's a letter to my father.
     
     Henry falls silent. Victor closes the journal, winds it
     secure with its leather thong, jams it deep in the outer
     pocket of his greatcoat. Brooding.  The bell above the door
     JINGLES. A gust of wind sweeps in. They glance up. Professor
     Waldman enters, dapper and soft- spoken, impeccably
     courteous. He murmurs a pleasantry to the INNKEEPER and
     drifts over to Victor's table.
     
                              VICTOR
          Professor Waldman.
     
                              WALDMAN
               (takes a seat)
          Victor, explain yourself.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     30
     
                              VICTOR
          Krempe has a way of provoking my temper.
     
                              WALDMAN
          You have a way of provoking his.
               (beat)
          I've been watching you. You seem impatient with
          your studies.
     
                              VICTOR
          To say the least. I came here to expand my mind,
          but honest inquiry seems strangled at every turn.
          All we do is cling to the old knowledge instead of
          seeking the new.
     
                              WALDMAN
          You disdain accepted wisdom?
     
                              VICTOR
          No, I embrace it ... as something to be used or
          discarded as we advance the boundaries of what is
          known.
     
                              HENRY
               (mutters to Waldman)
          Now you've got him started.
     
                              VICTOR
          These are exciting times, Henry. We're entering
          an era of amazing breakthroughs. Look at Edward
          Jenner. He wasn't content to bleed people with
          leeches, he pioneered a new frontier of thought
     
     
                              HENRY
          ... yes, and thanks to him, smallpox has been
          virtually eliminated. I've heard this speech
          before.
     
                              VICTOR
          But you haven't listened, Never in history has so
          much seemed possible. We're on the verge of
          answers undreamt of ... but only if we have the
          courage to ask the questions,
     
                              WALDMAN
          I understand your frustration. I was young once
          myself.
               (beat)
          Walk me home. Something I'd like to show you.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     31
     
     INT - WALDMAN'S HOME - WORKSHOP - NIGHT
     
     The gaslights come up with a SOFT HISS. The first thing
     Victor and Henry notice is an artist's nook situated
     adjacent to big windows where the light would be best during
     the day. Easels are lined with in-progress work on a variety
     of subjects, everything from landscapes to anatomical
     studies, all quite excellent.
     
     The rest of the place is a laboratory crammed floor-to-
     rafter with arcane equipment. Taking off his coat and
     rolling up his sleeves, Waldman leads Victor and Henry down
     rows of tables crammed with experiments and clutter.
     
                              WALDMAN
          You know for thousands of years the Chinese have
          based their medical science on the belief that the
          human body is a chemical engine run by
          electricity? They say we all contain streams of
          energy which flow through us like currents in the
          ocean, or rivers in the earth.
     
     They arrive at a table. Waldman roots through a tray of
     knickknacks, holds up an acupuncture needle.
     
                              WALDMAN
          Their doctors treat patients by inserting needles
          like these into the flesh at various key points to
          manipulate these electric streams.
     
     He directs their attention to an ancient Chinese silk on the
     wall. It depicts the human body from front and side angles.
     Acupuncture points are clearly marked.
     
                              VICTOR
          Preposterous.
     
                              WALDMAN
          I once saw it done, as a boy in Canton. My
          parents were missionaries. The cure was nothing
          short of miraculous.
               (off their looks)
          I've never forgotten it. Been fascinated ever
          since.
     
                              HENRY
          It smacks of magic.
     
     Waldman slides forth a steel pan and uncovers it to reveal
     an enormous dead toad in dissection. Copper mounting pins
     trail wires to a small panel of switches. The switches, in
     turn, are connected to a series of galvanic batteries.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     32
     
     Waldman starts throwing switches. Victor and Henry jump as
     the toad convulses with motion. They watch, stunned, as
     Waldman puts the toad through its paces: legs kick, feet
     flex, mouth opens and closes, lungs breathe.
     
                              WALDMAN
          Magic. seems alive, doesn't it?
     
     Waldman shuts the thing down, strips off his gloves, his arm
     at the array of wires and batteries.
     
                              WALDMAN
          Electricity.
     
                              VICTOR
          It's utterly fantastic! This is the sort of thing
          I'm talking about! We should be learning this!
     
                              WALDMAN
          Why? God alone knows what it means. Until it has
          proven value, it's nothing more than a ghoulish
          parlor trick. Hardly fit for the classroom.
     
                              VICTOR
          But the possibilities Combining ancient knowledge
          with new? Something like this could change our
          fundamental views!
     
                              WALDMAN
          It is a thrilling direction to explore. Thrilling
          and dangerous.
               (off his look)
          Nature can be wonderful and terrible. Science is
          not a realm for the reckless; it needs a
          conscience. we must proceed cautiously. Assess as
          we go.
               (drapes the toad)
          What I do on my own time is my own business. The
          same holds true for you. You wish to expand your
          mind? Fine, do so. You can even join me here, if
          you like. But not at the expense of your normal
          studies.
     
                              VICTOR
          I doubt that decision is still mine to make.
     
                              WALDMAN
               (waves)
          Nonsense. Tonight you will draft an apology to
          Professor Krempe...
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     33
     
     Victor starts to object, but Waldman overrides him with a
     stern gesture for silence. Listen.
     
                              WALDMAN
          "...a sincere and heartfelt apology which you will
          then read aloud to him before the assembled
          student body and faculty.
     
                              VICTOR
          Why?
     
                              WALDMAN
               (draws close)
          our profession needs talent like yours. Destroy
          your career over an issue of pride? what a waste.
     
     Waldman hands him the acupuncture needle. A gift. Victor
     studies it, fascinated.
     
                              WALDMAN
          Go home, Victor. Write the letter,
     
     INT - LECTURE HALL - DAY
     
     DOLLYING VICTOR IN A SWW 360: He stands before the students
     and faculty, reading his apology.
     
                              VICTOR
          ... and I further wish to extend my sincerest
          regrets to Professor Krempe for my display. My
          behavior toward him was both rash and inexcusable
     
     
     Up in the gallery, Krempe nods grudgingly to himself.
     
     INT - FRANKENSTEIN MANSION - DUSK
     
     Exquisite silverware goes CLINKING SOFTLY onto polished wood
     as:
     
                              ELIZABETH (O.S.)
               (laughing)
          I knew held get himself in trouble.
     
     TILT UP to reveal the expansive dinner table being set for
     guests. KITCHEN STAFF are to-ing and fro-ing. Elizabeth
     splits her attention between supervising and reading
     Victor's letter, while Justine busies herself with a flower
     arrangement. Willie gets underfoot. Father just sits.
     
                              JUSTINE
          Must've been a terrible row.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     34
                              ELIZABETH
          He was almost expelled for calling one of his
          professors a "pompous ...
               (glances to Willie)
          ... fellow.,,
     
                              FATHER
          He always was opinionated.
     
                              ELIZABETH
               (reads on, laughs)
          He set things right with a proper apology ... and
          now they've put him in charge of dissection lab!
     
                              WILLIE
          What's that?
     
                              FATHER
          That's where they cut things open and peer about
          inside.
     
                              WILLIE
          Things? What sort of things?
     
     Father is about to press on with the gory details, but
     Elizabeth freezes him with a glance.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          It's far too ghoulish for your young ears.
     
     The old man throws Willie a look. We'll talk later.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          The point is, your brother is a brilliant student
          well on his way to becoming the finest-and most
          compassionate doctor ever ...
     
     INT - WALDMM'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT
     
     A DISSECTED DOG convulses through its electronically-
     induced paces. Kicking. Twitching. Tasting the air with its
     dead tongue. TILT UP to reveal Victor at the switch.
     
     Waldman leans close to observe. Softly:
     
                              WALDMAN
          Re-configure the leads?
     
                              VICTOR
          Numbers four and twelve directly into the nervous
          system?
     
     Waldman nods.
     
                              WALDMAN
          Worth a try.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     35
     
     INT -.AUTOPSY ROOM - DAY
     
     With Waldman at his side and Henry providing the tools as
     needed, Victor instructs a freshman class in the internal
     workings of a dissected corpse. Professor Krempe observes
     from a distance.
     
                              VICTOR
          ... and the medulla oblongata is the transition
          between the spinal cord and the two parts I've
          already named ... cerebrum and cerebellum. Any
          freshmen feeling queasy yet?
               (glances around, smiles)
          All of you, from the look of it. We'll resume
          your torture tomorrow.
     
     He waves them dismissed. They laugh and exit, relieved.
     Waldman squeezes Victor's elbow. Well done. Victor stiffens
     at Krempe's approach.
     
                              KREMPE
          You seem to be adapting well to the approved
          curriculum.
     
                              VICTOR
          Despite the lack of challenge.
     
     Krempe reddens, but says nothing. He gives Waldman a curt
     nod and walks off.
     
                              WALDMAN
          Victor. He was trying to be gracious.
     
                              VICTOR
          The strain was evident
     
                              HENRY
          Come now, you must take some satisfaction. You've
          risen to the top of your class. A position of
          prominence and regard.
     
     Victor weighs this, glances at both of them, smiles.
     
                              VICTOR
          What keeps me going are my friends.
     
     He throws his arm around Henry's neck, pulls him into an
     affectionate headlock. Henry struggles and laughs:
     
                              HENRY
          Leave off!
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     36
     
     JEWELER'S SHOP - DAY
     
     Victor is gazing with reverence at a gorgeous oval locket
     dangled before him by a smiling JEWELER. He glances to Henry
     for an opinion.
     
                              HENRY
          Your Elizabeth must be quite a treasure, Victor
     
               (pointedly to jeweler)
          ... to justify these prices.
     
     The jeweler's smile goes frosty.
     
     WALDMAN'S WORKSHOP - DAY
     
     TIGHT ANGLE ON the locket lying open against canvas,
     dangling from an easel frame. TILT DOWN to reveal a
     magnificent miniature oil portrait of Victor in progress, no
     more than three inches high within its penciled oval.
     
     Waldman paints with an extraordinarily delicate touch,
     jeweler's glasses riding low on his nose, eyes unnaturally
     large behind the magnifying lenses. Victor sits patiently
     for the portrait, suffused with daylight.
     
     Henry leans in over Waldman's shoulder, studying the
     portrait. Waldman stiffens a bit, aware of his presence. He
     clearly hates people looking over his shoulder.
     
                              HENRY
               (deadpan)
          Shouldn't the nose be above the mouth?
     
     Waldman heaves a long-suffering sigh. He abruptly jabs his
     brush at Henry's nose, daubing it with paint. Dignity upheld
     he resumes his careful work as Victor laughs.
     
     INT - WALDMAN'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT
     
     Victor, Waldman, and Henry are gathered around the remains
     of a meal, laughing uproariously, enjoying one another's
     company. Cigars are lit, wine is flowing. Conversation is
     fast and loose, intense and passionate:
     
                              WALDMAN
          I'm quite serious. Look at all the charity and
          clinic work we do. Up until thirty years ago, the
          concept of vaccine was unheard of.
     
                              HENRY
          You're saying all disease will eventually be
          eradicated?
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     37
     
                              WALDMAN
          I'm convinced. Not by treating symptoms, but by
          diving nature's most jealously-guarded secrets.
     
                              HENRY
               (turning serious)
          Do you foresee this happening in our lifetimes?
     
                              WALDMAN
          No. But someday.
     
                              HENRY
          Thank goodness. We'd be out of work
     
     A HOWL OF OUTRAGE AND LAUGHTER. Victor flings his napkin in
     Henry's face.
     
                              VICTOR
          Only you would think of that!
     
                              HENRY
               (laughing)
          Somebody has to!
     
     Victor raises his wine glass.  The others join. A toast.
     
                              VICTOR
          I tell you what we need, my friends. Forget the
          symptoms and diseases. What we need is a vaccine
          for death itself.
     
                              WALDMAN
               (laughter)
          Oh, now you have gone too far, There's only one
          God, Victor.
     
                              HENRY
               (raises his glass)
          And here's to Him. Everything in moderation,
          Frankenstein.
     
                              VICTOR
               (grins)
          Nothing in moderation, Clerval.
     
     INT - POOR HOUSE - DAY
     
     CAMERA, TRACKS the gritty reality of a big-city poor house,
     crammed with society's dregs: the poor, the uneducated,
     wailing babies, stampeding children. Absolutely jangling
     with noise and confusion ... loud and stifling ... people
     getting eye-ear-nose-throat exams ... being vaccinated ...
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     38
     
     The "doctors" in attendance are all Ingolstadt STUDENTS
     performing community service, none of whom look like they're
     enjoying it. Schiller looks particularly harried
     
     We find Victor and Henry giving out vaccinations. They keep
     glancing over their shoulders at Waldman as he gets further
     embroiled in a no-win argument with a wiry, ferret-faced MAN
     terrified about getting his vaccination:
     
                              MAN
          Yer not stickin' it in me! Got pox in it, I hear
          tell!
     
                              FAT WOMAN
          Pox? They givin' us pox?
     
     Ripples of panic spread. Waldman is as tense and clipped as
     we've ever seen him, valiantly trying to control his temper
     amidst the surrounding cacophony and ad-lib dialogue:
     
                              WALDMAN
          No, it's not pox, it's a vaccine ...
     
                              FAT WOMAN
          Vaca-what?
     
                              WALDMAN
          ... vaccine, from the Latin vacca, meaning cow
     
               (glances at her girth)
           ... or vaccinia, meaning cowpox ...
                              MAN
          I told you there was pox in it I
     
                              WALDMAN
          ... no, no, cowpox in a minute quantity,
          perfectly harmless, gives you a natural immunity
          to small ox, which is the point of this whole
          bloody exercise ...
     
     Victor and Henry are pausing work. Concerned. Drifting
     closer. The ferret-faced man is cornered.
     
                              MAN
          You doctors kill people! I don' care what you
          say, you ain't stickin' it in me!
     
                              WALDMAN
          I most assuredly am! It prevents disease and it's
          the law! Why am I explaining myself? Somebody
          restrain this damn fool!
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     39
     
     It happens this fast: There's an innocuous blur of motion as
     the man seems to tap Waldman lightly in the stomach, then he
     darts away, slamming past Victor and Henry. Victor looks
     after him running away, hears something clatter to the
     floor. He glances down. A thin knife. Victor looks to
     Waldman. Puzzled. It still hasn't really dawned.
     
     Waldman turns to them, face drained of color, hand pressed
     to his sternum, lips tight. He looks more annoyed than
     anything else. He exhales slowly.
     
                              HENRY
          Professor?
     
                              WALDMAN
               (softly)
          Oh God
     
     That's when the blood starts pumping through his fingers.
     They catch him as he collapses, cradling him as he sprawls
     to the floor. People are pushing and crowding to see.
     
     EXT - POOR HOUSE - DAY
     
     A cobblestoned street-scene. carriage. A delivery wagon.
     Vendors. Pedestrians.
     The doors of the poor house burst open, releasing a frenzy
     into the street: Victor and Henry carrying Waldman by his
     arms and legs, all the students running alongside, some of
     them weeping with panic, the crowd at their heels still
     trying to catch a glimpse, pedestrians scattering, the
     students dwindling up the long winding street, bearing their
     professor toward the school, shouting for help...
     
     INT - UNIVERSITY CHAPEL - DAY
     
     Krempe delivers the eulogy before the open casket. The
     chapel is full. Victor is seated near the back. Dazed. Henry
     comes up the aisle and slides in next to him. Victor doesn't
     even glance over. Henry whispers:
     
                              HENRY
          They just caught the man who did it.
     
                              VICTOR
          He was a frightened soul who acted out of fear
          and ignorance.
     
                              HENRY
          They'll hang him all the same.
     
                              VICTOR
          Good. I'll be there to hear his worthless neck
          snap.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     40
     
     People glance back. Henry lays his hand on Victor's elbow.
     
                              HENRY
          Keep your voice down. You don't know what you're
          saying.
     
                              VICTOR
          It was wrong, Henry! It shouldn't have happened!
          The bastard deserves to die.
     
     Victor is causing ripples of attention throughout the
     chapel. Even Krempe falters briefly in his eulogy. Henry
     pulls Victor from the pew, drags him up the aisle ...
     
     INT - CONFESSION BOOTH - DAY
     
     ... and into the confessional where they launch at each
     other in harsh whispers.
     
     Dialogue here is overlapping and intense:
     
                              HENRY
          You're making a scene!
     
                              VICTOR
          Why Waldman? He of all people should have cheated
          death!
     
                              HENRY
          You can't. Death is God's will!
     
                              VICTOR
          I resent God's monopoly
     
                              HENRY
          That's blasphemy!
     
                              VICTOR
          Blasphemy be damned! Waldman spent his life
          trying to help people!
     
                              HENRY
          All the more reason for us to continue his work
          with the poor!
     
                              VICTOR
               (beat, low)
          No. He had more important work.
     
                              HENRY
          There are sick people who need our help. Here and
          now. Not in some future time. Consider that.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     41
     
     Henry exits. Victor tries to compose himself, clasping his
     hands together as if in prayer ... or quiet rage. He gazes
     up. There on the wall hangs a crucifix.
     
                              VICTOR
          Life and death.
               (beat)
          Why should You alone have the final say?
     
     VICTOR"S POV PUSHING SLOWLY IN on the Christ figure before
     him, bleeding from a crown of thorns, arms thrown wide.
     
     DISSOLVE TO:
     
     DA VINCI'S STUDY OF MAM rises from the image of Christ,
     striking an eerily similar pose, arms thrown wide within the
     perfect circle. We hear a DOOR BEING UNLOCKED as ...
     
     INT - WALDMAN"S WORKSHOP - DAY
     
     ... a WIDER ANGLE reveals the deserted workshop. the door
     swings open as MARIE lets himself in. He sees the finished
     locket lying open on a table, picks it up, studies the
     beautiful miniature portrait it contains. Snaps it shut.
     
     He looks up, eyes falling upon the Da Vinci print hanging on
     the wall. He stares. Intense.
     
     INT - WALDMAN'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT
     
     TRACKING SHOT: Things are in the process of being sorted and
     boxed. We find Victor poring over Waldman's notes:
     
                              VICTOR
          To understand the causes of life, we must first
          have recourse to death ... and examine the process
          in minutest detail ...
     
     EXT - TOWN SQUARE - DAY
     
     A gray day. Waldman's ferret-faced MURDERER stands weeping
     helplessly on the scaffold as sentence is read:
     
                              MAGISTRATE
          ... his body to be left on public display for a
          twenty-four hour period, thereafter to be
          consigned to an unmarked pauper's grave. So the
          court has spoken.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     42
     
     The EXECUTIONER draws the hood over the murderer's head,
     cinches the noose tight. The condemned man is blubbering,
     pleading for his life.
     
     Victor stands in the crowd. 'Watching. Waiting. we hear the
     THUMP of the body dropping, the CRADK of a snapping neck..
     
     EXT - TOWN SQUARE - NIGHT
     
     Dark as Hades. Pissing down rain. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING and a
     CRASH OF THUNDER. The dead man still hangs from the
     scaffold, lashed by the wind.
     
     Victor looms from the storm, hands jammed in the pocket of
     his greatcoat. He pulls out a thin, glittering blade. The
     very weapon which took Waldman's life. He gazes up at the
     dead man ... at the rope from which he dangles ...
     
     INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT
     
     The dead murderer lies pale and naked on a slab. Victor
     leans close, still dripping, studying the face closely. A
     FLASH OF LIGHTNING throws wild Littering shadows through the
     dormer windows and skylights. Softly:
     
     VICTOR
     No longer pathetic and useless
     
     INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY
     
     The dead man, dissected and wired, jerks bolt upright,
     flopping and convulsing, eyes opening and closing, mouth
     gaping open and shut. He falls back limply as Victor shuts
     the power off, making careful notations in his journal.
     
     INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY
     
     TRACKING the dissection table ... up the length of the
     murderer's body ... now in an advanced stage of decay ... we
     hear the SOFT BUZZING of flies ...
     
     We find Victor standing over the corpse. Gaunt and hollow-
     eyed. Exhausted and obsessed. Wearing a butcher's apron.
     Staring down at one of the dead man's forearms. Maggots are
     swarming in the flesh. He abruptly raises a cleaver and
     WHACKS it off at the elbow.
     
     INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT
     
     TRACKING SLOWLY past the forearm lying in a steel pan, we
     find Victor performing an intense chemical analysis. Dead
     tissues are breaking apart in solvents, distilled over a
     slow-burning flame. Victor smears a glass slide, places it
     under a microscope.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     43
     
     INT - GASTHOF - DAY
     
     Victor is hunched over his notebook, pale and unhealthy,
     scribbling notations next to a rendering of the human form.
     Henry is across from him:
     
                              HENRY
          Victor. This has got to stop.
     
               (Victor glances up)
     
     Nobody's seen you in months. You haven't attended a single
     class.
     
                              VICTOR
          I've been preoccupied.
     
                              HENRY
          We all know how hard you took Waldman's death.
          Even Krempe is sympathetic. But it is time to move
          on. It is time to concern yourself with life.
     
                              VICTOR
          That is my concern.
               (faint smile)
          I'm involved in something just now. I want to
          finish it in Waldman's memory.
     
                              HENRY
          How much longer?
     
                              VICTOR
          Few months perhaps. I'm gathering the raw
          materials even now.
     
     EXT - GRAVEYARD - NIGHT
     
     The wrought-iron doors of a crypt have been forced open.
     CAMERA PUSHES through to find Victor standing inside over a
     stone sarcophagus with a pry bar in his hands. He's nervous,
     working up his courage:
     
                              VICTOR
          Materials. That's all they are Tissue to be re-
          used.
     
     He pries off the stone lid. It THUMPS heavily to the floor,
     cracking in half. He opens the casket, reaches in, raises
     the pale arm of the deceased to inspect it.
     
     EXT - GRAVEYARD - NIGHT
     
     Stone monuments. Bare trees. Ivy-covered ground. Victor
     shoulder-deep in a grave. Shoveling. A lamp burns low.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     44
     
     COFFIN - NIGHT
     
     Pitch black. The lid swings open, cascading dust and soil.
     Victor peers down, holding the kerosene lamp high.
     
     VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT
     
     TRACKING ALONG the shelves, crammed now with formaldehyde
     jars of feet and hands, brains and kidneys, the occasional
     head staring through the glass, dead cats ...
     
     ... and we find Victor working into the wee hours. Hunched
     over his specimens. Candle flame flickering low. Referring
     back to Waldman's notes. Making notations in arcane books
     such as "De Occulta Philosophia," by Agrippa, and "Le
     Sciences et les arts D'alchimiste," by Paracelsus.
     
     FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - LATE DAY
     
     A magnificent backdrop of mountains against a cloudless blue
     sky. TILT DOWN to Elizabeth and Justine with the mansion
     distant. A steady breeze ripples the fields as Elizabeth
     regards a stack of mail.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Nothing. Still nothing.
     
                              JUSTINE
          It's been months. It's not like him.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Something's wrong. I know it.
               (off her look)
          I've heard rumors of cholera spreading south from
          Hamburg.
     
                              JUSTINE
          So have I
     
                              ELIZABETH
          I should go. I should leave today.
     
                              JUSTINE
          Elizabeth. If it's true, travel into Germany
          would be banned. You'd never get near Ingolstadt.
               (beat)
          Besides, they're only rumors.
     
                              ELIZABETH
               (beat, nods)
          And not a word of them to Father. He's agitated
          enough not hearing from Victor.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     45
     
                              JUSTINE
          Read him one of the old letters and rephrase it.
          We'll say it came today. It'll set his mind at
          ease.
     
     Elizabeth gives her a hug. They walk toward the mansion
     
     INT - BLACKSMITH SHOP - DAY
     
     Murky and dark. Bellows are pumping. Showers of sparks
     cascade. The BLACKSMITH and his ASSISTANT are pounding a
     metallic sledgehammer litany, beating a huge copper sheet
     into shape. Victor enters. The blacksmith directs his
     attention to a finished copper piece leaning against the
     wall. Victor runs his hand over the surface. Nice.
     
     INT - MATERNITY WARD - CHARITY HOSPITAL - NIGHT
     
     A WOMAN lies on a table, screaming as she goes into labor.
     Her water breaks, cascading into a steel bucket. one of the
     ASSISTANTS snatches it up, scurries around the corner.
     Victor is waiting in the shadows. Money changes hands.
     
     INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT
     Victor is examining the amniotic fluid. Boiling it off.
     Working to synthesize it.
     
     INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT
     
     Victor pours the final drum of fluid into what appears to be
     a large copper vat. He dips his hand in, examines the
     consistency and smell. ANGLE WIDENS, spinning slowly up to
     reveal that the vat is human in shape. A sarcophagus.
     
     EXT - ALLEY - NIGHT
     
     We find Victor examining three corpses on the back of a
     wagon, checking nostrils and teeth with gloved hands. A PAIR
     OF MEN lurk in the shadows, waiting.
     
                              VICTOR
          That one
     
     The corpse is lifted off. Money changes hands.
     
                              MAN
          With this cholera come to town, we'll have plenty
          more for you.
     
     INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT
     
     Victor wearing elbow-length gloves, hacking furiously away
     with a bone saw. Tossing aside the scraps.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     46
     
     VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT
     
     Victor has an arm wired, testing reactions. He scrapes off a
     small shred of tissue, drops it in solution, watches it
     break apart. it doesn't look good. He glances feverishly at
     the clock, makes a fast decision, scribbles in his journal:
     
                              VICTOR
          Not optimal. Must use. No time to replace. Body
          can't wait.
     
     VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT
     
     Victor stitches a torso with one of those big, awful curved
     needles, yanking up hard to draw the catgut tight.
     
                              ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.)
          I stitched it together with my own hands ...
     
     VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT
     
     Victor pulls on a chain, hoisting the body off the slab via
     block-and-tackle mounted on a ceiling track. The body rises
     limply into the air, spinning slowly, arms and legs
     dangling, long black hair covering its face.
     
                              ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.)
          a patchwork man of my own devising.
     
     Victor reaches up with one hand to stop the body spinning.
     He pushes it down the length of the lab, rolling it along
     its ceiling track like a side of beef in a meat locker.
     
     INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT
     
     The Creature lies on an improvised bier of crates,
     surrounded by shadows and clutter, draped/sprawled like
     Christ taken from the cross in Michelangelo's "Pieta."
     Beakers bubbling and dripping. Intravenous lines seeping and
     secreting. A misty chemical haze in the air.  Victor is
     watching his patchwork man. Glowering. Waiting.
     
                              ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.)
          It took nutrients like a child receiving milk ...
          blushed like a young girl with the blood I forced
          through its veins ...
     
     A FLASH OF LIGHTNING rips through the skylights, bathing the
     scene purple/white. Eerier and eerier.
     
                              ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.)
          ... all in preparation.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     47
     
     VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY
     
     We find Victor passed out in a chair. His creation is still
     taking fluids. Gray daylight streams through the windows.
     
     There's commotion in the street outside: shouting, horses'
     hooves clattering on cobblestone, an occasional scream or
     wail. Victor doesn't stir. Dead to the world.  Somebody
     starts POUNDING on the door. Victor rouses, takes a moment
     to remember where he is. He lurches from his chair, grabs a
     canvas tarp, throws it over his "patchwork man."
     
     STAIRWELL - DAY
     
     Henry is pounding. Finally the latch is drawn. The door
     swings open a crack. Victor peers out. Gaunt and furtive.
     Suspicious. Henry is stunned at his dissipated appearance.
     
                              HENRY
          God's sake, what is that stench?
     
     Henry peers past him.
     
     Victor shifts, blocking his view
     
                              VICTOR
          This is a bad time, Henry. I'm busy just now.
          What do you want?
     
                              HENRY
          Things have gone worse with this cholera
          outbreak. Thousand new cases a day now. Classes
          have been suspended. University's shut down.
     
                              VICTOR
          Yes? And?
     
                              HENRY
          Listen to what I'm saying. The militia's arriving
          to quarantine the city. Most of us are getting out
          while we still can.
     
                              VICTOR
          You'll be leaving then.
               (beat)
          Just as well. You never were cut out for this,
          Henry. Goodbye.
     
     And the door slams shut. The bolt is thrown. Henry pounds.
     
                              HENRY
          VICTOR! OPEN THE DOOR! LISTEN TO REASON!
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     48
     
     Nothing. Stunned and hurt' Henry turns from the door and
     heads back down the stairs.
     
     EXT - VICTOR'S BUILDING - STREET - DAY
     
     Henry exits into a nightmare. REFUGEES are streaming from
     the city, horses and wagons, people on foot, carrying their
     possessions. Henry steps into the street and is nearly run
     down by a carriage.
     
                              VOICE (O.S.)
          OUT OF THE WAY!
     
     Henry glances up to see Schiller at the reins, struggling to
     control the animals as the carriage eases past.
     
                              HENRY
          Schiller? You're leaving? Where's all that high
          talk about treating the sick?
     
                              SCHILLER
               (icy)
          To hell with them. And you.
     
     He snaps the reins, not caring who he runs down. The
     carriage lurches away, scattering refugees before it.
     
     Henry keeps walking. Jostled by the hostile crowd. Looking
     around. Dazed. Dead bodies are stacked along the street like
     cordwood, waiting for the death carts. ANGLE WIDENS as Henry
     stumbles along through utter despair and devastation,
     stunned at the human suffering around him as we
     
     FADE TO:
     
     INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT
     
     Victor glances at the clock. Scribbles in his journal:
     
                              VICTOR
          Time running out. Rate of decay accelerating.
          Must strike now ... or start again from scratch.
     
     He gazes down at his creation, lying once again on the slab
     before him ... but now the Creature lies on a full body-
     length steel grate. Steel chains with hooks dangle from the
     ceiling above ... along with long coils of thick copper wire
     tipped with glittering needles big enough to knit with.
     
     Victor glances up at the Da Vinci. The Study of Man has been
     daubed with red paint at key acupuncture points. Victor dips
     a huge cotton swab in a bowl of iodine, starts dabbing
     identical marks on the body before him ...
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     49
     
     Now he's ramming the huge wire-fed needles deep into these
     spots, brutally working them around in the flesh to get good
     contact. The forearms, the neck, the rib cage ...
     
     Now he's attaching the steel chain-hooks to the four corners
     of the steel grate ...
     
     Now he's pulling on a rope, straining to hoist the whole rig
     into the air. It lifts slowly from frame: body, needles,
     wires and all ...
     
     HIGH WIDE ANGLE
     
     ... and we get our first spectacular look at Frankenstein's
     gloriously low-tech and stupendously arcane 2LicU the
     Creature dangles below us from the ceiling-hoist, lying
     full-length and horizontal on its steel grate, spinning
     slowly, thick copper wires trailing from its arms and legs,
     rib cage and neck, armpits and groin. The copper cables
     trail upward, coil along the ceiling like garden hose to
     provide necessary slack, meander down the wall to culminate
     in a splendiferous array of galvanic batteries, steam
     engines and generators.
     Frankenstein reaches slowly up, fingertips straining toward
     the ceiling as if worshipping the creation revolving
     endlessly above his head in a perfectly-described circle not
     at all unlike the Da Vinci ...
     
     .And he grabs the lever on the platform and pulls to start
     it spinning, with a mighty heave, he sets the whole thing
     gliding in motion, CAMERA TRACKING FASTER AND FASTER as he
     rolls it along the ceiling track through the lab, passing
     table after table of desiccated leftovers and discarded
     scraps, LIGHTNING BLAZING through the windows to mark his
     way with wild and sinister shadows ...
     
     ... and he yanks the platform to a stop over the copper
     sarcophagus. Amniotic fluid steaming and murky within. He
     positions the platform, unties the rope, lowers the Creature
     down and down, lower and lower, sinking into the vat, the
     steel grate a perfect fit in size and shape.
     
     Faster now, moving furiously. Reaching into the murk,
     unhooking the chains. Arraying the copper wire through air-
     tight guide holes. Spinning on his heels and reaching up,
     grabbing hold of the upper shell of the sarcophagus also
     suspended from the ceiling, stunningly heavy, gleaming with
     reflections and secrets. CAMERA ROCKETS DOWN on Victor as he
     swings the upper shell into position, lowers it into place
     with a THUD-CLANK! Working the wing-nuts on the bolts,
     spinning frantically, tightening them down, sealing the
     sarcophagus air-tight. Faster now. Faster.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     50
     
     The frenzy builds and the CAMERA GOES WILD, rocketing,
     zooming, gliding, spinning the audience on its ear:
     
     Frankenstein. Turning up the heat on the burners. Cooking
     the copper from below. Double double, toil and trouble.
     
     Frankenstein. Gazing through the thick glass portholes
     checking on his creation drifting in the murk.
     
     Frankenstein. Whipping up the galvanic batteries,
     supercharging them with steam generators. Watching as they
     send voltage humming and throbbing through the copper cables
     along the ceiling beams. Building up a charge.
     
     Frankenstein. Gazing at his gleaming handiwork. LIGHTNING
     painting his features into a twisted mask. Hand on the
     switch. Ready to rev it up and throw the throttle.
     
     Over it goes. WHAM! Overdrive.
     
     The body convulses violently in its copper womb as the first
     jolt of electricity hits. THUNX-THUNK-THUNK! Blazing with
     energy and arcane light, fingers of light throbbing through
     the portholes, sparkling, glittering, seeking.
     
     Frankenstein races to the sarcophagus. A long glass tube,
     two feet in diameter and ribbed with steel, gets lowered on
     a boom and rammed into a hole, collate spun tight, inner dam
     wrenched out like a Polaroid plate.
     
     He reaches up and grabs holds of a pull-chain, fingers going
     knuckle-white on the wooden handle. one hard yank. A dump-
     tank is released, murky water cascading down the glass tube.
     And here's the final perversion, the ultimate icing on this
     twisted cake: the copper sarcophagus is literally a womb,
     with the giant glass tube serving as a massive gleaming
     phallus down which come pouring dozens of electric eels,
     wriggling and streaming like huge black sperm ...
     
     EEL POV (IN THE TUBE)
     
     ... rocketing down the tube, slithering and squirming,
     faster and faster, racing into the sarcophagus, seeking out
     the creation in the murky womb-fluid, lashing at the hapless
     gray flesh, zapping it again with high-intensity voltage.
     the Creature convulsing, thrashing, jerking from side to
     side, raising its head against the top, mouth gaping open
     and shut, jaws snapping with electrical surges.
     
     Frankenstein's face appears at the porthole, peering in,
     watching his dark seed fertilize his unholy child.
     
                              VICTOR
               (muffled through the glass)
          Live, you bastard!
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     51
     
     A huge bony hand slaps against the porthole, fingers clawing
     and spasming against the glass.
     
     FRANKENSTEIN  jerks his head back, stunned. The fingers are
     scratching. He turns, runs to the electrical rig, shutting
     the whole thing down. It cycles off, whining into silence
     
     
     INSIDE THE SARCOPHAGUS
     
     ... and the body relaxes, shutting down with it, going limp
     and lifeless in the murk, spasms trailing off.
     
     FRANKENSTEIN stares at the sarcophagus. Realizing his
     creation has stopped moving. Nothing now. He sags to his
     knees, utterly devastated at the loss of his dream. Nothing.
     It was all for nothing ...
     
     INSIDE THE SARCOPHAGUS
     ... And The Creature opens its dim yellow eyes, Aware. Its
     mouth goes wide, teeth bared in a silent scream as it tries
     to breathe and finds nothing in its lungs but fluid.
     
     FRANKENSTEIN is wrapped in his despair, face cradled in his
     hands. A SOFT TAP. He glances over his fingers. Thinking he
     imagined it. No. There's another tap. And another.
     
     We see it in his eyes. Sheer joy and stunned exultation.
     Triumph and wonder unbelievably sublime. A bare whisper:
     
                              VICTOR
          It's alive. It's alive.
     
     And then hell breaks loose: Massive convulsions wrack the
     sarcophagus, damn near shaking it off its cradle. THUMP-
     THUMP-THUMPI Pounding from within. Head ramming against the
     inner lid. He races over, frantic, fingers fumbling on the
     wing-nuts, spinning them loose, trying to free the drowning
     man within. He unscrews the final bolt, reaches for the rope
     to hoist the lid away ...
     
     ... and the lid launches itself across the room, propelled
     from below with rocket-booster force. The massive copper
     shell goes hurtling/spinning/cartwheeling across the lab,
     demolishing an amazing array of equipment in its path, and
     thunders massively off the wall in an explosion of masonry
     and splintering coat rack. Victor's greatcoat goes flying.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     52
     
     Silence. Frankenstein is frozen. Staring at the roiling
     surface of the amniotic fluid as it settles. An eternity
     passes in the space of a heartbeat.
     
     The Creature erupts from the vat like a vision from Hell,
     thrashing and gagging. murky fluid cascading in all
     directions-, The Creature seizes Victor by the shirtfront,
     trying to pull itself from the vat, slipping and sliding
     like an epileptic in a bathtub full of oil, damn near
     dragging Victor in, eels leaping and frothing and crackling
     with electricity. Victor screaming, trying to pull away,
     trying to break the Creature's grip ...
     
     ... and the whole thing tips over. Victor reels back,
     falling as the vat SLAMS to the ground, cascading its murky
     contents,, washing the Creature limply across the floor like
     a body tossed from the ocean, eels flipping and flopping,
     snapping electrical discharges into the air. Victor
     scrambles back, slipping and sliding on the amniotic muck,
     desperately jerking his legs away. He finds his traction and
     scrambles to his feet.
     
     The Creature is grasping and crawling toward him. Flopping
     and jerking. Gripped by seizures and convulsions. Vomiting
     murky liquid as his lungs heave grotesquely to dispel the
     fluid. Swiping the air with palsied hands. Malfunctional.
     
     VICTOR stands dripping fluid and goo, chest heaving, staring
     down at the Creature, not quite able to believe he was
     midwife to this ghastly birth. Softly:
     
                              VICTOR
          What have I done?
     
     The Creature lunges to its knees, grasping him, clutching
     his clothes, pawing him.
     
                              VICTOR
          LET GO OF-ME!
     
     Victor can't break free. Panicking. He snatches a hammer
     from a nearby table and brings it down on the Creature's
     head. THUD! Again and again. Beating the thing down,
     pounding it into submission. The Creature finally collapses,
     sliding down Victor's legs, curling up like a fetus,
     twitching and jerking in its own afterbirth.
     
     Silence now.
     
     A ghastly tableau: Victor stands in the middle of his ruined
     lab with his creation moaning and twitching at his feet in a
     dying heap. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING silently bathes the room,
     jerking wild shadows across the walls.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     53
     
     Victor steps over the Creature. Dazed. He drops the hammer.
     It clatters to the floor. He stops to jot a final entry:
     
                              VICTOR
          Massive birth defects. Result is malfunctional
          and vile.
               (beat)
          Have chosen to abort.
     
     He walks stiffly away, disappears into the bedroom ...
     
     INT... BEDROOM - NIGHT......
     
     ... where He staggers to the canopied bed, beyond exhausted,
     and collapses face-down into oblivion. Weeping.
     
     FADE TO:
     
     INT - VICTOR'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
     
     The wee hours. Rain pattering desolately on the roof. Victor
     sleeping. Wrestling with troubled dreams.  Through a crack
     in the bed curtains, we see the bedroom door slowly creak
     open, throwing a twisted spill of light.  A shadow appears.
     Entering. Shambling and gliding across the floor. Silent and
     furtive. Creeping toward the bed.
     
     PUSHING SLOWLY IN on Victor. Moving into close-up. Sleeping.
     Unaware. The shadow falls across his face
     
     Beat. His eyes fly open. An intake of breath. Paralyzed.
     Sensing the presence. Feeling the shadow. Working himself up
     to something. Perhaps a scream. He can stand it no longer,
     thrusts out his arm, jerks the curtain aside ...
     
     ... and the Creature is there, Looming like a specter of
     death. Naked. Beseeching. Dull yellow eyes trying to
     understand. 'The pilot''s wheal is now a crystalline
     sculpture of ice. The forward mast lies across the deck like
     a broken limb, extending out over the ice on a tangle of
     rigging...' lurches from bed, sends a nightstand and vase
     CRASHING to the floor. the Creature circles, seeking him,
     threatening to cut off his path to the door.
     
                              VICTOR
          Stay away!
     
     He darts past the thing, careening out into the lab. The
     Creature whips around, unsteady for a moment, then follows
     him with surprising speed.
     
     INT - LAB - NIGHT
     
     Victor races through the lab with the Creature hobbling
     behind, trying to catch up. Victor hurling lab equipment,
     tipping shelves in its path, anything to slow it down.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     54
     
     Victor rips the door open, lunges through, slams it in the
     Creature's face. The Creature presses against the wood with
     pathetic little moans, begging not to be left alone.
     
     He sinks to the floor. Abandoned. Shivering with cold. Sees
     Victor's greatcoat where it fell. Grabs it. Drags it over.
     Shrouding himself.
     
     EXT - STREET - NIGHT
     
     Victor races into the downpour, soaked to the skin in
     seconds, mind racing. He needs a plan. He presses on.
     
     INT - SHOP - NIGHT
     
     Victor appears at the window. TILT DOWN to reveal an array
     of gleaming swords lying in their velvet display. Victor
     hurls a brick through the glass. Snatches up a sword.
     
     INT - VICTOR'S BUILDING - NIGHT
     
     Victor careens in from the storm, drenched, racing up the
     stairs, sword glittering in his grasp. He gets to the top of
     the stairs ...
     
     INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT
     
     ... only to discover the door torn off It's hinges. He
     enters, stunned. The thing is gone.
     
     EXT - STREET - NIGHT
     
     Victor races back into the storm. Searching. Slogging grimly
     on. Lashed by the wind and rain. Mocked by the lightning.
     He'll never give up. Not until he finds the thing and takes
     back the life he gave it. He dwindles from view, vanishing
     into the gale as we
     
     FADE TO:
     
     EXT - ALLY - MORNING
     
     Gray and drizzly. Heaps of wet garbage. Crawling rats.
     There's a shifting, heaving motion. The vermin scatter as
     the waking Creature peers at the world from beneath the
     greatcoat like a frightened child peering from under a
     blanket. Lost and confused.
     
     He scrabbles through the garbage for something to eat. He
     finds a rotted scrap, chews it anxiously. Ravenous.
     
     TWO FERAL DOGS appear, grizzled denizens of the city's
     gutters and back-alleys, peering with insolent eyes.
     Watching him eat. Assessing his potential as a threat. The
     Creature stares ingenuously back. Not knowing to be afraid.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     55
     
     The lead dog curls his lips back with a guttural SNARL. The
     Creature draws back sharply with a fearful MOAN. That's all
     it takes. The dogs are on him, snarling and snapping, the
     food torn from his hands. The dogs dart away, growling and
     fighting over the scrap.
     
     The Creature is left whimpering and shaken. He pushes to his
     feet and hurries in the opposite direction, legs bare and
     pale beneath the swirling greatcoat, clutching his collar
     against the cold. He hears a distant CLANGING.
     
                              VOICE (O.S.)
          Bring out your deeeaaad! Bring out your deeeaaad!
     
     A death cart clatters slowly past the mouth of the alley,
     DRIVER ringing his bell. It makes no sense to the Creature,
     but it's a sign of human life. He presses on ...
     
     EXT - TOWN SQUARE - DAY
     
     ... and emerges into the square as ANGLE WIDENS. There's a
     fair amount of activity. People are still leaving the city,
     though the earlier flood has thinned. Some citizens are
     still trying to go about their normal lives. VENDORS are
     calling out, selling foo
     
     The Creature moves through the square, unnoticed, just
     another figure mingling with the flow. People trudge along,
     eyes downcast, miseries great, paying little attention.
     
     The Creature pauses, sniffing the air. An aroma draws him to
     a vendor's stand. Loaves of bread are laid out. He hunches
     down to smell one, picks it up, bites off a chunk. Chewing.
     It's good. A bigger bite. Snatching up more.
     
     WOMAN (O.S.)
     Here! What do you think you're doing?
     
     The Creature glances up. The VENDOR'S WIFE is within arm's
     reach, breath catching in her throat at the sight of him.
     Mouth gaping. Too stunned to scream.
     
     The Creature cradles the loaves to his chest, terrified
     she's going to take them away. He remembers his recent
     experience with the dogs and decides to try out the lesson
     he learned: he curls his lips back and snarls.
     
     He's rewarded with a PIERCING SHRIEK. The Creature jumps
     back, startled. This wasn't the desired effect. The woman
     SCREAMS like she'll never stop. He turns to run away ...
     
     ... and plows right into the stream of refuge S. He goes
     sprawling, scraping his knees bloody, still clutching his
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     56
     
     loaves. Confusion all around. People converge angrily. A
     ROUGH MAN grabs his hair, jerking him upright ...
     
     ROUGH MAN
     Stupid bastard!
     
     ... and the Creature staggers to his feet before them,
     whimpering to protect his food, showing his face to all.
     Screams and panic. The Creature whips around, seeing
     horrified faces on all sides ...
     
     He's the cholera! He's the one been spreadin' the plague!
     
     ... faces which turn into an angry mob, glaring sheer
     hatred. Somebody hits him in the face with a heavy stick,
     spinning him to the ground, loaves of bread scattering. they
     surround him, hitting, flailing, throwing stones. He tries
     to crawl, whimpering for them to stop.
     
                              VENDOR'S WIFE
          BURN HIM! BURN HIM!
     
     The Creature finds himself hoisted into the air, falling
     back onto a sea of hands, kicking and screaming as the mob
     sweeps him across the square like some pagan sacrifice. He
     gets tossed onto the hard cobblestone in a thrashing heap,
     scrambles to his knees as the crowd surrounds him. He's
     wailing with terror now, long inhuman howls of fear. Men
     start flinging lamp oil, spattering him, blinding him. A
     torch is lit, swung toward him. Feel the heat.
     
     The Creature lunges to his feet, panic and terror complete
     bulldozing through the crowd to get away from the torch,
     bowling people over, scattering them in all directions. He
     breaks free, hobbling wildly across the square, greatcoat
     billowing. The mob streams after him, thirsty for blood,
     hurling rocks and sticks.
     
     EXT - STREETS/ALLEYS - DAY
     
     The Creature is weeping as he runs, bleeding from his many
     cuts and bruises. He turns a corner, collapses against a
     wall to catch his breath. He can hear them coming, shouting.
     They'll be here any second.
     
     He sees a death cart heaped with bodies. He hurls himself up
     on the cart to conceal himself among the putrefying corpses.
     The crowd streams past the mouth of the alley. The death
     cart WORKERS appear, heaving another corpse onto the cart,
     gaping fearfully at the confusion. They scramble into their
     seats, snap the reins. The cart rattles off as we
     
     DISSOLVE TO:
     
     57
     
     EXT - STREET - DAY
     
     Elsewhere in Ingolstadt. Death carts and devastation. This
     part of town was hit hard. Bodies are heaped in gutters,
     stacked along the walls. People are huddled in doorways,
     quaking with sickness and pestilence. CART WORKERS move
     among them, faces shrouded with kerchiefs and burlap masks.
     
     WORKER #1 moves down a row of the sick and dead, shaking
     them to see which is which, his face hidden behind heavy
     burlap. He pauses, seeing Victor unconscious against the
     wall, pale and covered with filth, shaking with fever. The
     worker's eyes widen. Stunned. He calls over his shoulder:
     
                              WORKER #1
          over here!
     
     WORKER #2 hurries over. Stares down. Eyes also widening.
     
                              WORKER #2
          Oh my God.
     
     Worker #1 rips his mask away. It's Henry. He leans down and
     grabs Victor, trying to rouse him.
     
                              HENRY
          Victor
     
     Worker #2 also sweeps his mask aside. Professor Krempe
     
                              KREMPE
          Don't dawdle, lad! The sick cart! Lift on three!
          One, two, three!
     
     They hoist Victor off the ground by his arms and legs and
     carry him into the street. Victor rouses, feels himself
     being carried. He sees a death cart looming ahead, stacked
     with heaps of reeking dead. Staring. Waiting.
     
                              VICTOR
               (delirious, struggling)
          No ... no ... I'm not dead ... please ... Don't
          put me on the cart! I'm not dead! I'm not dead!
          I'M NOT DEAD!
     
     ANGLE WIDENS UP as they carry him kicking and screaming past
     the death cart and on across the square ...
     
     WIPE TO:
     
     EXT - MASS CEMETERY - DAY
     
     A death cart rattles past, bearing its load. PAN WITH IT to
     reveal a scene utterly Dante-esque. Here's where the dead
     are brought to be burned en masse. Fires are burning. Smoke
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     58
     
     is drifting in thick clouds, obscuring the sky. Soot is
     drifting like black snow.  BODIES  are dumped into a slit-
     trench, rolling and tumbling in heaps. Barrels are kicked
     over. Streams of oil come pouring down, splashing and
     soaking.
     
     One of the corpses moves, heaving the others aside, The
     Creature gazes around, terrified once again at the smell of
     oil. He knows what that means. He pushes free, clambering
     over bodies, desperately trying to scramble from the trench,
     loose soil crumbling under his fingertips ...
     
     ON THE LIP OF THE TRENCH
     
     ... as WORKERS prepare to light the blaze. A MAN turns
     toward the trench with a burning torch ... And then the
     Creature erupts from the trench of dead bodies right before
     big eyes, The man SCREAMS. The Creature SCREAMS even louder,
     cowering back. The man hurls the torch. The Creature ducks
     as it goes spinning over his head into the trench.
     
     WA-BOOOM! A massive wall of flame punches sky-ward. The
     Creature whirls, stunned at the searing heat, arms thrown up
     in horror. He flees, scattering the workers as he goes,
     running from this ghastly place of flames and death ...
     
     DISSOLVE TO:
     
     EXT - WOODS - DAY
     
     The Creature comes blundering into view. On the move. He
     knows not where. Just away, He arrives at a pond. Water.
     He's thirsty. He scrambles to water's edge, starts lapping
     it up with his hands. He pauses, noticing his broken
     reflection. The water settles and his face comes clearly
     into view. He throws his hands up and SHRIEKS, terrified at
     his own reflection ...
     
     ... and then he realizes it's him down there. He stirs the
     water with his fingertips to make sure. He reaches up,
     touching his face, utterly horrified at the sight of it...
     
     ... and utterly heartbroken. He drops his face into his hand
     and weeps helplessly. BARKING DOGS in the distance. He looks
     up, thinking they're after him. A moan of grief. He pushes
     to his feet.
     
     TRACKING THE CREATURE  faster and faster through the trees,
     running from this world he's been born into. Gasping for
     breath. Crashing through branches.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     59
     
     The BARKING draws closer. He hurls himself into a thicket,
     scrambling to hide himself, covering himself with dead
     leaves. Panic. Exhaustion. Mortal terror.
     He flinches as something comes CRASHING through the brush
     nearby. The legs of a DOE come into view. Staggering.
     Falling. Thrashing down into a cushion of dead leaves. Two
     arrows protrude from her heaving side.
     
     A tiny FAWN stumbles into view on ungainly legs, mouth open,
     frothing with exhaustion and terror. waiting for his mother
     to rise. Her thrashing grows weaker. Dying.
     
     The Creature moans at the sight. The fawn turns, meets his
     gaze. An extended beat. A rush of empathy. The Creature
     reaches out. The fawn takes a few hesitant steps toward him.
     The BARKING draws closer. HUNTERS shouting. The Creature's
     fingertips make contact with the fawn ...
     
     A pack of the biggest, nastiest Staffordshire terriers
     you've ever seen throw themselves HOWLING AND SNARLING onto
     the doe, savaging her like whirling dervishes, The Creature
     lets out a SHRIEK, snatches up the fawn as he lunges to his
     feet, crashes off through the foliage with the fawn cradled
     to his chest. The dogs take off after him.
     
     DOLLYING THE CREATURE
     
     Running full-tilt, SHRIEKING in terror all the way. Trying
     to save the fawn. Trying to save himself. The dogs are
     snapping at his heels, trying to sever his hamstrings and
     bring him down. He hears RUSHING WATER ahead, crashes
     headlong through a thicket ...
     
     EXT - RIVER - DAY
     
     ... and sails SCREAMING into empty SPACE, twisting and
     spinning as He falls, plummeting head-first into the rapids.
     the dogs are left behind. the Creature gets swept along,
     gasping and choking, caroming off huge boulders, fawn still
     clutched protectively to his chest.
     
     Finally the water starts to settle. He manages to lash out
     and secure a handhold. He pulls himself up, clambering over
     the rocks and staggering onto firm soil. He collapses to his
     knees, dripping water and heaving for breath.
     He lowers the fawn away from his chest, joyous at their
     escape ... only to realize the small animal is limp and
     lifeless in his hands. He crushed it to death trying to save
     it. He lays it down, moaning, trying to understand. ANGLE
     WIDENS UP into the trees as we
     
     DISSOLVE TO:
     
     60
     
     WOODS - DUSK
     
     TILT DOWN to reveal a solitary figure in a greatcoat
     trudging across the sodden countryside under a dismal,
     darkening sky. Cold. Hungry. Wet. Tired.
     
     The Creature pauses, hearing FAINT MUSIC drifting on the
     breeze: the lovely flute-like sounds of a recorder. He slogs
     to the crest of a ridge. There's a small house in the valley
     below. A peasant dwelling. Smoke drifts from the chimney.
     That's where the music comes from (a simple and plaintive
     rendition of our movie's WALTZ/LOVE THEME).
     
     The Creature proceeds down the ridge ... drawn by the music
     and the promise of warmth.
     
     HOUSE - DAY
     
     The Creature approaches cautiously. Furtive. He eases to a
     window, catches a glimpse inside, draws back. Listening. The
     tune ends. We hear the pleasant murmur of VOICES. FOOTSTEPS
     come clumping across the floor. The Creature reels back and
     dives around the side of the house as the door unlatches and
     swings open. FELIX exits, a poor man trying to scratch an
     honest living from the soil. He heads in the same direction
     as the Creature ...
     
     ANOTHER ANGLE
     
     ... and walks around the corner of the house just as the
     Creature scrambles from view behind the chicken coops. The
     Creature watches through the wire and wood as Felix
     approaches and stops, only his legs visible. Feed is
     scattered through the wire. The chi
     
     PIGSTY - DUSK
     
     ... and finds himself in the company of PIGS. the animals
     GRUNT and SQUEAL in alarm.
     
                              FELIX (0. S.)
          Yes, yes, I'm coming ...
     
     The Creature scurries further back into the shadows as
     Felix's feet stop just outside. A pail is upended. Slop
     pours into the trough. Felix walks away. The pigs scurry to
     eat. The Creature leans forward intently. Food?
     
     He crawls to the trough and squeezes in among the pigs. They
     jostle, but he jostles right back, wanting his fair
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     61
     
     share. He laps up the slop with his fingers, dribbling it
     down his chin. Not much on taste, but it's edible.
     
     He stops, hearing the recorder MUSIC again, turning toward
     the sound. He follows it, crawling back into the darkest
     recesses where the sty adjoins the wall of the house. He
     places his eye to a chink between the logs ...
     
     ... and sees GRANDFATHER playing the instrument near a
     fireplace of glowing embers. The Creature shifts for another
     view, sees the family preparing the table for dinner. Felix
     and his wife MARIE are helped by their children, MAGGIE AND
     THOMAS, ages 6 and 8
     
                              MARIE
          Bring Grandfather to the table.
     
     The old man stops playing as the children scurry over. As
     Maggie helps him to his feet, Thomas tosses another log on
     the fire. It BLAZES UP. Fire and sparks. in the pigsty, the
     Creature draws back with a fearful moan ...
     
     ... that nobody but GRANDFATHER hears, He pauses to gaze
     blindly toward the wall, eyes milky with cataracts,
     wondering what it might have been. Probably nothing. He lets
     the children lead him toward the table. the meal is brought
     from the stove and ladled out.
     
     The Creature eases back to the chink in the wall, smelling
     it from here. A string of drool spills from his mouth. It's
     humble fare, not very appetizing, but it looks like a feast
     compared to pig slop ...
     
     DISSOLVE TO:
     
     INT - VICTOR'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
     
     Victor lies sleeping. Wrestling with troubled dreams. In an
     eerie echo of before: the door creaks open in a spill of
     light. A shadow enters, creeps to the bed, falls across his
     face. Victor's eyes fly open. He tries to erupt from bed,
     choking on a scream ... and Henry wrestles him back to the
     pillow to feel his clammy forehead.
     
                              HENRY
          Thank God your fever broke.
               (offers him water)
          Slowly, now. Just a sip.
               (Victor sips, falls back)
          I've been worried we might lose you. It's been
          touch-and-go for a week.
     
                              VICTOR
          A... week?
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     62
     
                              HENRY
          We feared cholera. Turned out to be pneumonia,
          brought on by nervous exhaustion and some idiot
          running around in a storm. -
     
                              VICTOR
          Is that your diagnosis?
     
                              HENRY
          Mine and Professor Krempel's.
               (off his look)
          We've been trading off nursing you in shifts. The
          rest of the time we're out working with the
          cholera victims. It's his turn for that just now.
     
                              VICTOR
          You've been going round-the-clock?
     
                              HENRY
          We catch a few hours sleep where we can. Usually
          here at your bedside.
     
                              VICTOR
               (deeply moved)
          Everything in moderation, Clerval.
     
                              HENRY
          Nothing in moderation, Frankenstein.
     
     Victor takes Henry's hand. Squeezes it.
     
                              HENRY
          It's the down-and-outs I pity most. Those who
          can't fend for themselves. They'll be dead by the
          thousands before this is done. They don't stand a
          chance out there.
     
                              VICTOR
               (thinking of his creation)
          No. They don't.
     
                              HENRY
          Victor. This place looked like a charnel house.
          What went on here?
     
     Victor pauses, too emotional to respond. Softly:
     
                              VICTOR
          I want to go home.
     
     Beat.
     
     Henry accepts this, though he doesn't like it.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     63
     
                              HENRY
          It'll be months before you're well enough.
          Meantime, your family must be frantic not hearing
          from you.
     
     Henry grabs a stack of letters from the nightstand.
     
                              HENRY
          I found these. Some of the postmarks go back nine
          months.
               (slaps them on the bed)
          Why don't you open them? And when you've the
          strength, have the decency to ease their minds
          with a reply. Soon as the city ends quarantine,
          I'll even mail it for you. Along with this.
               (raises the locket)
          It's a beautiful gift. Does her no good lying
          here.
     
     Henry leaves him alone to wrestle with his guilt. Victor is
     swept with emotion and remorse. He closes his eyes. Softly:
     
                              VICTOR
          It can't survive.
     
     INT - PIGSTY - DAY
     
     The Creature and the pigs are sleeping in a heap. He rouses,
     scattering them, crawls to the slats of the sty. Felix is
     returning wearily from the fields with a large basket on his
     back. The Creature moves to his chink in the wall to see
     Felix enter the house and dump the basket out for Marie. A
     pathetic array of potatoes and turnips.
     
                              FELIX
          Not much to look at. Even less to eat. I don't
          how we're going to get through the winter with
          this yield.
     
                              MARIE
          We'll sell another pig at market.
     
                              FELIX
          one less for us.
     
                              MARIE
          We'll make do. We always have.
     
     He sinks into a chair, weighed by worry. She moves to
     comfort him, cradling his head to her breast. He returns her
     embrace, drawing strength. A tender, gentle moment. The
     Creature watches, puzzled and empathetic, deeply moved by
     her sympathy. Felix gathers himself, wipes his eyes.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     64
     
                              FELIX
          I'll see if I can scratch a few more out of the
          ground.
     
     He hoists the basket and exits. The Creature turns to watch
     Felix trudging back toward the fields.
     
     EXT - FIELD - DAY
     
     Felix digs for potatoes, tilling as he goes. Back-breaking
     work. Thomas provides what help he can. Some distance away,
     Maggie and Grandfather are tending the cow. ANGLE SHIFTS to
     reveal the Creature watching from the brambles ...
     
     INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT
     
     The Creature watches the family eat their dinner. Potatoes
     and turnips. A glimmer of understanding in his eyes.
     
     EXT - HOUSE - NIGHT
     
     A long shadow looms toward the dwelling ... circling the
     house...approaching the shed. Baskets and tools ...
     
     EXT - FIELDS - NIGHT
     
     We find the Creature working by the light of a refulgent
     moon, hacking away at the soil, tilling the earth ...
     
     INT - PIGSTY - DAWN
     
     The Creature stirs, hearing movement within the house. He
     scurries to the slats of the sty and peers out. All the
     baskets from the tool shed are stacked to overflow before
     the door.
     
     The door opens. Felix steps out and trips on a basket,
     sprawling to the ground in a torrent of potatoes and
     turnips. He sits up, gazing in wonder.
     
     INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT
     
     A sliver of warm light spills through the chink in the wall.
     The Creature looms into frame, busily munching a raw potato.
     A pig comes snuffling at his elbow. He shoves him away. Go
     find your own. Inside, the family is enjoying a much more
     generous meal than the last one:
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          I wish we could thank our benefactor.
     
                              FELIX
          Nothing in this life comes free of cost. I'd like
          to know who and why.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     65
     
                              MAGGIE
          It's the Good Spirit of the forest.
     
                              FELIX
          Who's been filling your head?
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          It does no harm.
     
                              FELIX
               (peers at him)
          Oh, I see.
     
                              THOMAS
          Is it, Papa? Is it the Good Spirit?
     
     Felix and Marie exchange a look. He's not as amused as she
     is, but lets it go. She smiles at the children.
     
                              MARIE
          of course it is. Now finish your food before it
          gets cold.
     
     EXT - POND - DAY
     
     Grandfather sits playing his recorder. The cow is grazing at
     a distance. The Creature creeps into view, listening to the
     music. Grandfather senses his presence. Turns.
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          Who's there? Felix? Children?
     
     No response. He turns back. Unsettled. Continues playing.
     
     INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT
     
     The Creature watches Marie instructing the children in their
     letters. A half dozen words are written in chalk on a slate
     board. Maggie is trying to puzzle one out:
     
                              MAGGIE
          ff..reh..nn..nd. Friend? Friend.
     
                              MARIE
          Good! And now the next
     
                              CREATURE
               (mimicking the effort)
          ... freh ... nnn..nd. Freehhnnnd.
     
     He's delighted to have uttered his first word.
     
     EXT - WOODS - DAY
     
     Felix is chopping lengths of wood, dulled by the task. The
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     66
     
     children are stacking the wood on a litter.
     
     EXT - FIELD - DUSK
     
     Felix and the children walk home. The litter of wood is
     being dragged by their cow ...
     
     EXT - HOUSE - DUSK
     
     Felix stacks the last pile of wood under the eaves. Marie
     meets him at the door, takes his hands.
     
                              MARIE
     
     Your hands are bleeding again. Come in. I'll rub liniment.
     
     They go inside. The door closes. CAMERA PUSHES to the
     pigsty. Eyes peering out.
     
     EXT - WOODS - NIGHT
     
     The Creature walks along, munching a turnip, axe slung over
     his shoulder, muttering:
     
                              CREATURE
          .brread ... motherrr ... frriend ...
               (stops, gazes up)
          Treeeeee
     
     EXT - HOUSE - MORNING
     
     The walls around the house are stacked impossibly high with
     cords of wood. Felix and Marie gaze out the door. Stunned.
     
                              FELIX
          What is going on here?
     
     INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - NIGHT
     
     Snow is drifting outside the tall dormer window. We find
     Victor at his desk, reading a letter:
     
                              VICTOR
          ... but it's been so long since I've heard from
          you. Remember the vow we took the night you left?
          You must be honest with me if your feelings have
          changed. Answer for the sake of our friendship,
          and both our future happiness."
               (pause)
          She wrote that four months ago.
     
     ANGLE SHIFTS to include Henry. He's been listening.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     67
     
                              HENRY
          A woman like that is far too rare to be taken
          lightly.
     
     Victor ponders the letter. He lays it next to the locket,
     pulls out a sheet of paper and quill, begins to write ...
     
     INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT
     
     The Creature observes another lesson. Six more words are
     chalked on the board. Thomas is struggling with the first:
     
                              THOMAS
          Ch...uur-ch. Church.
     
                              CREATURE
          Ch...uuur ... ch.
     
                              MARIE
          Good. And the next.
     
                              THOMAS
          Fl ... oww.
     
                              CREATURE
          Floww ...
     
     And then, amazingly, the Creature finishes the word before
     Thomas does:
     
                              CREATURE
          ... wwer. Flower.
     
                              THOMAS
          .wer. Flower?
     
                              MARIE
          Very good! Maggie. Try the next
     
     Now the Creature beats Maggie to the punch:
     
                              CREATURE
          Garrr ... denn. Garden.
     
                              THOMAS
          Maria! Look! It's snowing!
     
     The children crowd to the window. The Creature turns,
     peering through the slats. White flakes drift magically
     down. The door flies open, the children pour out. The adults
     appear in the doorway:
     
                              MARIE
          Maggie! Thomas! You'll catch your death!
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     68
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          Let them play. There's plenty of wood for the
          fire.
     
                              FELIX
               (shoots her a look)
          He's right about that.
     
     Before she can react, he grabs her by the waist and drags
     her shrieking out into the snow. Before you know it, a wild
     snowball fight ensues. Screams and laughter.
     
     THE CREATURE watches his family cavorting in the snow,
     having the time of their lives. His face lights up with a
     smile. Softly:
     
                              CREATURE
          It's snnowwinng.
     
     EXT - HOUSE - DAY
     
     Bright sunshine sparkles off a fresh carpet of snow. Felix
     and the children are heading out, spirits high. Felix has
     his axe and a coil of rope slung over his shoulder.
     
     EXT - WOODS - DAY
     
     TRACKING Felix and the children. They're laughing and
     joking, the kids playful and giggling. The Creature shadows
     them, looming and darting among the trees, along for the
     excursion. Happy as a kid himself.
     
     Maggie and Thomas hurl themselves to the ground, thrashing
     their arms and legs in the snow. They jump to their feet and
     hurry to catch up with Felix. The Creature peers out, amazed
     to see two snow-angels in the powder at his feet,
     Up ahead, Maggie points to a 6-foot fir tree.
     
                              MAGGIE
          That one! It's the most beautiful tree I've ever
          seen!
     
     Felix shrugs off his coil of rope and starts chopping.
     
     INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT
     
     The Creature gazes through the chink in the wall, face lit
     up with wonder. inside, the tree is a dazzling vision of
     ornaments and light. The house is filled with joy and
     laughter. Grandfather plays his recorder by a roaring fire
     
                              CREATURE
          Most beautiful ... tree ...
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     69
     
     The kids go dashing across the room. The Creature shifts to
     the slats as the door opens, throwing a spill of warm light.
     The children set something out in the snow. Maggie calls out
     into the darkness:
     
                              MAGGIE
          Merry Christmas!
     
     The door closes. The Creature creeps from his sty, scurries
     closer to investigate. He finds a covered plate topped with
     a glittering red silk flower as decoration. The slate board
     is jammed in the snow. On it is chalked a child's rendering
     of a glowing angel and a message:
     
                              CREATURE
          For the...Goood Spirr-rit ... of the ... Forr-
          rest.
     
     He snatches up the plate, scurries around the side of the
     house, and hunkers down near the tool shed with his prize.
     He plucks the red silk flower, enchanted by it, tucks it
     gingerly into an inner coat pocket. He uncovers the plate to
     reveal a wonderful array of Christmas cookies.
     
     He's not sure what they are, but they don't smell half bad.
     He picks one up and bites into it. He pauses, stunned, eyes
     going wide as saucers. A whine builds in his throat. He
     starts huffing air as he chews, mouth gaping, mind
     thoroughly blown. Screw potatoes and turnips.
     
     EXT - HOUSE - MORNING
     
     The children race out the door to find the plate empty.. and
     a big snow-angel waiting for them in the yard,
     
     INT - PIGSTY - NIGHT
     
     The Creature watches the family clustered around the fire.
     Marie reads a book aloud:
     
                              MARIE
          ... with particles of heavenly fire, the God of
          Nature did his soul inspire ... and pliant still
          the ethereal energy which wise Prometheus tempered
          into paste ...
     
     The Creature leans back into the shadows, grappling with the
     concept of book." He reaches into the pocket of the
     greatcoat, and pulls out what's been there all along:
     Victor's Journal. So that's what this is. A book. He unwinds
     the thong, riffles the pages. Letters fall, scattering from
     the pages. He picks one up by the corner, turns his head
     this way and that. Slowly:
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     70
     
                              CREATURE
          Myyy Darrllnng Vic...tor ... 'Willee haaad hisss
          burrth-dayyy. I wissh  ... yooo cuud huvv beeen
     ... herre ... to sharre ut ... withh ... ussss ...
     
     EXT - GRANDFATHER'S POND - DAY
     
     Grandfather sits playing his recorder. Again, the Creature
     approaches to listen. Grandfather stops. Turns.
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          I know you're there.
               (waits for a response)
          Won't you speak to me?
     
     The Creature studies Grandfather for a time. The old man
     waits. Finally starts to play again. The Creature finds a
     spot to listen. He opens Victor's journal.
     
     CAMERA PUSHES SLOWLY IN as he puzzles over it ...
     
     INT - PIGSTY - DAY
     
     ... and we CONTINUE PUSHING SLOWLY IN as the Creature reads:
     
                              CREATURE
          ... of sscience ... and to c-create ... a beinng
     ... in the image of man ... assembled ffrrom ...
     the...dead bodieess I have ... gatherrred ...
     
     He turns the page and discovers his own rough likeness: it's
     Victor's sketch of his patchwork man." The rendering
     includes suture marks where the pieces were joined.
     
     The Creature gazes for a long time. His finger traces the
     penciled suture-line where an arm joins the torso. Eyes
     going wider. Revelation slowly dawning. No. It can't be.
     it's too horrible to conceive ...
     
     ... and he drops the journal, clawing at his coat in a surge
     of panic, wrenching it away to reveal his arm ... And the
     massive suture scars Joining his shoulder to his torso in an
     exact match to the drawing, He throws his head back in
     an animalistic PRIMAL SCREAM, face twisted in a mask of
     utter horror, Munch's painting made flesh ...
     
     IN THE WOODS
     
     ... and his scream echoes across the countryside-, Felix
     turns from chopping wood. His family gathers, eyes wide,
     listening to the sound trail off. Softly:
     
                              FELIX
          God in heaven.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     71
     
     IN THE PIGSTY
     
     A massive hand rips the page from the journal, raises it in
     a clenched fist.
     
     ANGLE WIDENS to reveal the Creature huddled in a corner,
     dropping his head into his arms to hide his face. Sunlight
     throws streaks of light and shadow through the slats. He
     sobs, wracked with despair as we
     
     FADE TO:
     
     EXT - VALLEY - DAY
     
     The house is distant below. Felix and his family are heading
     out across the fields now sparse with snow, herding the cow
     before them. Only Grandfather is missing.
     
     The gentle MUSIC of the recorder drifts up from the house.
     ANGLE WIDENS to reveal the Creature hunkered on a hill.
     watching. Waiting. The family dwindles in the distance.
     
     INT - HOUSE - DAY
     For the first time, we actually see the inside of the house
     from a perspective other than through the chink in the wall.
     Grandfather is by the fire, playing his recorder.
     
     The Creature's face appears at a window. Peering in. He
     ducks from view, appearing at another window. Making sure
     the house is otherwise empty. He vanishes again. The door
     swings silently open. His figure fills the doorway.
     Grandfather stops playing. Silence.
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          Would you like to sit by the fire?
     
     The Creature enters. Sits. Holds his hands toward the
     embers, feeling the warmth.
     
                              CREATURE
          Nice.
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          The music? Or the fire?
     
     Grandfather offers him the recorder. The Creature hesitates,
     takes it, inept where such delicacy is required. He puts it
     to his misshapen lips and blows a few hollow tones. He gives
     it back, huffing air, delighted.
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          I'm glad you finally came to the door. A man
          shouldn't have to scurry in the shadows.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     72
     
                              CREATURE
          Better that way ... for me.
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          Why?
     
                              CREATURE
          I'm ... very, very ugly. People are afraid.
          Except you.
     
                              GRANDFATHER
               (smiles)
          it can't be as bad as that.
     
                              CREATURE
               (soft)
          Worse.
     
     The old man-reaches for his face. The Creature draws back.
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          I can see you with my hands. If you'll trust me.
     
     The Creature decides to trust. He eases forward. Grandfather
     runs his fingers over his features. Gently:
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          You're an outcast.
     
                              CREATURE
          Yes. I have been seeking my friends.
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          Friends? Do they live around here?
     
                              CREATURE
          Yes. Very close
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          Why do you not go to them?
     
     The Creature pauses. Emotions swirling. Afraid to continue.
     
                              CREATURE
          I have been ... afraid. Afraid ... they will hate
          me...because I am so very ugly ... and they are so
          very beautiful
     
                              GRANDFATHER
               (softly)
          People can be kinder than you think.
     
                              CREATURE
          I am afraid,
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     73
     
     Grandfather reaches out and takes the Creature's hands.
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          Perhaps I can help. Tell me who.
     
     The Creature is huffing air, breath hitching in his chest
     like a panicking child. His monstrous eyes well up with
     tears. Trying to get the words out:
     
                              CREATURE
          I love them ... so very much. I want ... I want
     ... them to be my ff-family. I II-Ilove them ss-so
     very mm-mm-mmuch ...
     
     The Creature pauses. Trying to get the words out. And the
     door swings open. The Creature whips his head. There stands
     Maggie. Eyes going wide. Breath catching in her throat. She
     lets out an ear-splitting SHRIEK! The Creature throws
     himself on the old man's lap, clutching him, pleading:
     
                              CREATURE
          Don't let them hate me!
     
     Felix bursts in, shoving Maggie aside, hell breaking loose
     in screaming, hollering chaos: Marie trying to get the
     children out of the way, Felix throwing himself on the
     Creature to rip him off the old man, the Creature sprawling
     to the floor, the old man shouting, the children SHRIEKING,
     Felix snatching, up the fireplace poker and swinging it
     down, again and again, trying to kill the thing ...
     
                              GRANDFATHER
          Leave him alone!
     
     ... the CREATURE SCREAMING and taking the blows, writhing
     across the floor in agony, the children scattering from his
     pleading hands, the old ROUGH MAN dazed and shouting,
     William, now 10, comes charging up the steps with a small
     package under his arm, nearly bowling over Mrs. Moritz as he
     sails past her hollering his head off: tugging on his arm.
     the CREATURE rolls from under the brutal beating and sails
     out the door.
     
     EXT - WOODS - DAY
     
     The Creature runs bleeding and sobbing, a specter sailing
     among the trees with greatcoat billowing like huge dark
     wings. Running from the horrified screams of rejection still
     echoing in his mind.
     
     EXT - WOODS - DAY
     
     A snowscape. Stark trees. A figure in a greatcoat. Head
     bowed with misery. Leaning against a tree. Trying to catch
     his breath. Can't. Crying too hard. He sinks to his knees,
     hands clutched bitterly to his heaving chest. Wondering why
     the anguish doesn't stop his heart in mid-beat.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     74
     
     A realization. He pulls the little red silk flower from the
     inside pocket. It lies glittering in his huge, misshapen
     palm like gentle magic. Or hope. Yes.
     
     HOUSE - DUSK
     
     The sky is brewing. The Creature runs across the courtyard
     toward the house, breathless, holding his palm out. see?
     Here's the flower you gave me. Don't you understand?
     
                              CREATURE
          It's me! It's mmmmeeeeee.1
     
     Nothing. He glances around. The pigs are gone. Chickens too.
     The Creature's eyes go wide. He dashes to the house
     
     HOUSE - DUSK
     
     ... and bursts in to find it empty, Items have been scattered
     and left behind. Books, clothes, even the old man's
     recorder. They left in a hurry.
     
                              CREATURE
          ... no
     
     HOUSE - NIGHT
     We hear furniture CRASHING, glass SHATTERING, shelves being
     ripped from walls. A faint glow kicks up. Flames rise
     within. The Creature exits with a flaming torch, spins back
     to watch. He has new possessions: an armload of books
     jammed in a satchel, some extra clothes on his body, the old
     man's recorder jammed in his belt.
     
     A HOWLING WIND whips up, billowing his coat and hair,
     fanning the flames even higher. He raises his torch, HOWLING
     along with the wind, reflected fire seething in his eyes,
     exulting as the house is consumed ...
     
     DISSOLVE TO:
     
     MONT BLANC - DAY
     
     Massive pale gray feet walking through the snow. ANGLE
     WIDENING to reveal a lone, windswept figure traversing the
     glacier with a walking staff. Struggling toward the crest of
     a ridge. Greatcoat billowing in a freezing wind.
     
     THE CREATURE rises from below the crest and gazes down.
     Glowering with triumph at achieving his goal. Softly:
     
                              CREATURE
          Geneva.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     75
     
     AERIAL SHOT sweeps up the slope of the glacier like the wind
     itself, rising magnificently past the tiny figure standing
     on the ridge, sailing up over the crest ... to reveal the
     valley and lake of Geneva below.
     
     DISSOLVE TO:
     
     INT - VICTOR'S GARRET - DAY (SPRING)
     
     Sunlight streams through the dormer window. Birds twitter on
     the ledge outside. The trees are in bloom. Victor stands
     dressed and ready to go, taking one last pensive look around
     at the now-empty garret. Henry appears:
     
                              HENRY
          Our carriage is here.
     
     EXT - INGOLSTADT CITY GATES - DAY
     
     Bustling with activity. Hopeful. A traffic snarl is jammed
     up in both directions, waiting to get in and out of the
     city. People, carriages, wagons, goods. We find Professor
     and MRS. KREMPE saying goodbye to Victor and Henry:
     
                              MRS. KREMPE
               (watching the gates)
          Such a terrible winter. I'll praise God to see
          those gates open again.
     
                              KREMPE
          I'll have all your things sent on. They should
          arrive soon after.
               (Victor nods)
          It's been a rough time, lad. For us all. But if
          you'd like to come back and finish out your final
          term once university re-opens ...
     
     A ROAR goes up from the crowd. The gates are finally opening
     as SOLDIERS swing them aside. The traffic starts to flow.
     Victor turns back to Krempe, nods gratefully.
     
                              VICTOR
          Thank you, Professor. For everything.
     
     Krempe is flustered as Victor gives him an awkward hug.
     
                              KREMPE
          Write and let us know you've arrived safely.
     
     Victor breaks the embrace. He and Henry clamber into the
     carriage. Softly:
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     76
     
                              VICTOR
          Take me home, my friend.
     
     Henry signals the DRIVER. The reins snap. The carriage
     lurches away, easing into the flow of traffic as we
     
     DISSOLVE TO:
     
     EXT - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - DAY
     
     William, now 10, comes charging up the steps with a small
     package under his arm, nearly bowling over Mrs. Moritz as he
     sails past her hollering his head off:
     
                              WILLIAM
          HE'S COMING HOME!
     
     INT - PARLOR - DAY
     
     Willie careens into the parlor, where Elizabeth and Justine
     are entertaining FRIENDS.
     
                              WILLIAM
          Elizabeth! Justine!
     
     Father enters, trailed by HOUSEHOLD STAFF.
     
                              FATHER
          What's all the fuss? Why are you shouting?
     
                              WILLIAM
          He's coming home! Tonight!
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Who? Victor?
     
                              WILLIAM
          That's what I'm telling you!
     
                              ELIZABETH
               (swept with relief)
          Thank God.
     
     Willie thrusts the package into her hands. She hesitates
     
                              FATHER
          Open it.
     
     Willie scrambles to bring her the letter opener. Elizabeth
     lays the package down, slits it open. 'Willie peers in.
     Elizabeth pulls the locket out to the admiration of all. She
     presses the catch. The locket pops open to reveal Waldman's
     miniature oil painting.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     77
     
                              WILLIAM
          It's Victor!
     
                              JUSTINE
          It's beautiful! May I?
               (takes the locket)
          He looks so handsome.
     
     Elizabeth pulls out the letter. Apprehension and hope. She
     begins to read. The others watch her. Waiting.- Her face
     lights up, blinking back tears. She remembers to breathe.
     
                              FATHER
          What does it say?
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Let this locket be a token of the vow we took the
          night I left.
               (beat)
          He's coming home to marry me.
     
     Instant pandemonium and joy ... except from Justine, whose
     heart quietly breaks. Father and the others ROAR with
     approval while Willie jumps and shouts:
     
                              WILLIAM
          Married! The two of you?
     
                              FATHER
          Brilliant! I knew it! Ever since you were
          children!
     
                              JUSTINE
               (softly)
          That's wonderful.
     
     She hands the locket back. She slips quietly from the room,
     unnoticed by the others ...
     
     INT - ENTRYWAY - DAY
     
     and hurries down the hall, fighting back tears.
     
     RESUME PARLOR as Elizabeth is swept up in congratulatory
     conversation. Willie grabs the locket, admiring it:
     
                              WILLIAM
          Elizabeth? Can I take this to show Peter?
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Willie, it's not a toy for your friends.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     78
     
                              WILLIAM
          I'll take extra special care, I promise! Pete's
          never seen what Victor looks like! He'll admire it
          enormously!
     
     Willie's so solemn and earnest that Elizabeth has to smile.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Don't dawdle. It'll be dark in a few hours.
     
     The boy takes off like a shot. Father throws his arm around
     Elizabeth, announcing to all:
     
                              FATHER
          Join us for champagne! My son is coming home!
     
     EXT - FRANKIENSTEIN ESTATE - LATE DAY
     
     Geese scatter as Willie comes racing across the grounds.  He
     clambers over a low fence, heading into the miles of wooded
     acreage behind the house. His favorite shortcut.
     
     EXT - COUNTRYSIDE - LATE DAY
     
     Willie hurries/dawdles along as kids do, the precious locket
     clutched in his hands, admiring it. He can't get over the
     fact that his brother's finally coming home.
     
     He pauses, hearing FAINT TONES carried on the breeze, eerie
     and flute-like. A recorder. curious, he follows the sounds
     further and further into the woods ...
     
     EXT - POND - LATE DAY
     
     ... and comes into view of the pond. There's a FIGURE
     sitting half-concealed among the tall reeds, gazing off
     across the water and playing his delicate wind instrument
     with oddly-pleasing dissonance (again, a simple variation of
     our familiar WALTZ/LOVE THEME.)
     
     Willie draws closer. Curious. Not wanting to intrude, but
     listening to the music. The figure in the reeds still hasn't
     noticed him ...
     
     ... And then his head abruptly whips around, An ogre right
     out of a storybook. Willie's eyes go wide. The locket drops
     from his fingers into the dust. The boy turns and runs as
     the monster in the reeds lunges to its feet:
     
                              CREATURE
          Wait! Don't be afraid!
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     79
     
     The boy keeps running. The Creature comes shambling up from
     the pond, still calling after him. He picks up the dropped
     object. As he rises, he finds himself staring at the locket.
     At the small painting it contains. Victor Frankenstein. He
     raises his gaze after the fleeing boy. Maybe Willie does
     have reason to be afraid.
     
     The Creature starts after him, locket clenched in his fist,
     teeth grinding in greater and greater rage. Eyes wild.
     
     THEIR FEET go pounding through the brambles and brush. The
     terrified boy. The pursuing monster. Faster and faster ...
     
     INT - FRANKENSTEIN KITCHEN - DUSK
     Whirling with activity. Mrs. Moritz supervises the staff.
     Elizabeth and Justine are helping with the preparations.
     Justine turns with a platter, collides with one of the
     kitchen staff. Carrots go flying.
     
                              MRS. MORITZ
          Justine! Pay attention!
     
                              JUSTINE
               (tight)
          Yes, Mother.
     
                              ELIZABETH
               (pulls her aside)
          Are you all right?
     
                              JUSTINE
               (even tighter)
          Fine,
     
     Justine sees genuine concern. She softens:
     
                              JUSTINE
          I'll be all right. Really.
     
     Father enters with Claude. Both men worried.
     
                              FATHER
          Have you seen Willie?
     
                              ELIZABETH
          is he not back yet?
     
                              FATHER
          Claude rode over there to see if held lost track
          of time. They say he never arrived.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     80
                              ELIZABETH
          It's far too late for him to still be out.
     
     EXT - MANSION - DUSK
     
     Elizabeth exits with the others
     
                              CLAUDE
          Don't worry, Monsieur, we'll find him.
     
     He rushes to gather the men. Elizabeth gazes off. Wind
     kicking up. Night approaching. Almost too dark to see.
     
     EXT - COUNTRYSIDE/WOODS - NIGHT
     
     A massive search in progress. People are scouring the fields
     on horse and on foot, shouting Willie's name. Elizabeth
     enters frame, calling out:
     
                              ELIZABETH
          WILLIE!
     
     LIGHTNING dances on the horizon. A storm approaching.
     
     EXT - WOODED AREA - NIGHT
     
     The stark black silhouettes of tree trunks bisect the frame
     in foreground as Justine approaches from the fields, lantern
     held high ...
     
                              JUSTINE
          WILLIE!
     
     ... and one of the "tree trunks" turns out not to be. It
     darts abruptly across frame with a billow of flapping
     greatcoat, Justine enters the woods. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING
     sends shadows skittering among the trees ...
     
     EXT - ROAD TO MANSION - NIGHT
     
     ... And the storm is now a raging downpour, TILT DOWN to
     reveal a coach clattering through the rain.
     
     INT - COACH - NIGHT
     
     Victor is peering out the window flap.
     
                              VICTOR
          There! Look!
     
     Henry cranes to look. A LIGHTNING FIASH stutters the mansion
     briefly to life a few hundred yards down the road,
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     81
     
                              HENRY
          Quite a place
     
                              VICTOR
          Thank you, Henry.
     
                              HENRY
          For what?
     
                              VICTOR
          This. My home. My family.
               (softly)
          If not for you, I'd be dead in a burial pit
          somewhere.
     
     Henry smiles, squeezes his shoulder. The carriage lurches
     violently, tossing them forward.
     
     EXT - COACH - NIGHT
     
     Victor jumps from the coach as the DRIVER wrestles his
     rearing horses under control and points. Victor turns.
     
     Elizabeth stands in the downpour like a ghost. Drenched to
     the bone. Weeping from the depths of her soul. Holding
     Willie in her arms. The boy's arms hang limp, his head
     dangles back. Victor starts forward, stunned, unable to
     comprehend, running faster and faster ...
     
                              VICTOR
          Elizabeth?
     
     ... and now others are converging on the scene, dark
     screaming figures in the storm. Victor reaches her first as
     the others crowd around in a panic of confusion, crushing
     and jostling as she collapses into Victor's arms, all of
     them cradling Willie to the
     
     ... and then Father is there, shoving his way through, -
     seeing his dead boy and collapsing in the muck with a
     SCRF.AM, and suddenly Henry is there shouting for the men to
     lift him and everybody is scrambling and screaming as we
     
     SMASH CUT TO:
     
     INT - MANSION - FATHER'S BEDROOM - MORNING
     
     Silence. All we hear now is the SOFT TICKING of a clock.
     Henry tenderly ministers to Father, who lies gravely ill.
     
     INT - PARLOR - MORNING
     
     Elizabeth is sitting. Elbows crossed. Holding herself
     together. Face ashen. Dazed. Still in shock. Mrs. Moritz is
     nearby, looking much the same. Eyes swimming with tears.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     82
     
                              MRS. MORITZ
          Sir. I'm terrified for my girl.
     
                              VICTOR
               (softly)
          We'll organize another search now that it's light
          enough. We'll find her, Mrs. Moritz, I promise.
     
     Henry comes downstairs. He and Victor confer in whispers
     then approach Elizabeth. Victor crouches before her.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          What is Father's outlook?
     
                              HENRY
          I am cautiously hopeful. With quiet and proper
          care he may eventually regain some or most of his
          strength.
     
     Victor squeezes her hand. Comfort and strength.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Thank you, Henry.
     
     There's a KNOCKING at the front door.
     
     INT - ENTRYWAY - MORNING
     
     Victor opens the door. POLICEMEN hover outside. Faces grim
     
                              POLICEMAN #1
     
     Mr. Frankenstein. We've apprehended the murderer. Not five
     miles from here, hiding in a barn.
     
                              VICTOR
          Who is it?
     
     The policemen trade uneasy glances.
     
                              POLICEMAN #2
          it's very unsettling, sir. And quite strange.
          Perhaps you'd better come with us.
     
     INT - JAIL CELL - DAY
     
     Victor is led in by policemen. The JAILER unlocks the cell.
     Victor enters as the men depart. Victor is alone, staring at
     a FIGURE huddled in the corner, pooled in shadow. We get the
     impression of long, dangling hair. The figure stirs ...
     
                              FEMALE VOICE
          Victor?
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     83
     
     ... and leans into the light. Justine. Pale. Dazed. Scared
     
                              JUSTINE
          Victor! It's you! Thank God!
     
     She rushes to him, throws herself into his arms. He reacts
     stiffly, not at all sure he wants her touching him.
     
                              JUSTINE
          Is it true? What they say about Willie? Is it
          true?
     
                              VICTOR
          Yes
     
     She dissolves into tears. Barely able to breathe.
     
                              JUSTINE
          Willie. My poor little angel.
               (looks up)
          Victor! They think I did it!
     
                              VICTOR
          Did you?
     
     Justine pauses. Stunned. Her eyes on his. Here's the deepest
     betrayal ever experienced. Her heart turns to ash.
     
                              JUSTINE
               (low)
          I don't believe ... I am in need of your comfort
     ... anymore.
     
                              VICTOR
               (a whisper)
          Did you, Justine?
     
     Beat. She hauls off and slaps him hard enough to rock his
     head around. Then she slaps him again. Harder.
     
                              JUSTINE
          Get out!
     
     INT - COURTROOM - DAY
     
     The courtroom is packed. Justine sits accused. An older
     KITCHEN MAID is on the stand.
     
                              KITCHEN MAID
          I found her sobbing her eyes out.
     
     Poor thing, I said, what's all this? And she spilled her
     heart to me about Master Victor. How she'd always loved him,
     and now he was coming home to marry mistress Elizabeth.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     84
     
     A MURMUR sweeps the courtroom. Victor and Elizabeth share a
     stunned glance.
     
                              KITCHEN MAID
          She cried and cried about the beautiful locket
          held sent. How she wished it was hers. She swore
          me never to tell a soul.
               (peers at Justine)
          That was before the boy went missing, a'course.
     
     INT - COURTROOM - DAY
     
     Victor is on the stand:
     
                              VICTOR
          I always viewed her with brotherly affection. I
          had no idea of her feelings for me.
     
                              PROSECUTOR
          Rejection can be a powerful wound. People have
          been known to do uncanny things.
     
                              VICTOR
          But to commit so ghastly and terrible a crime
          against a child she loved?
     
     Victor pauses, gnawed by some vague intuition. He looks to
     Justine. She gazes back, her feelings hidden. Softly:
     
                              VICTOR
          It's hard to believe.
     
     INT - COURTROOM - DAY
     
     Elizabeth is on the stand:
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Justine and I grew up as sisters. I know her
          better than anybody.
     
                              DEFENDING COUNSEL
          Do you think it possible she committed this
          crime?
     
                              ELIZABETH
          William was as much her child as mine. We were
          both mother to him,
               (beat)
          I believe she would sooner have strangled the
          life from her own body.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     85
     
                              DEFENDING COUNSEL
          Then you consider the charge without merit.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          I consider the charge imbecilic.
     
     INT - COURT ROOM - DAY
     
     Justine is now on the stand:
     
                              JUSTINE
          Yes. I took refuge in the barn. Wouldn't you?
          Lost in the storm? Freezing and wet? I was
          exhausted and could search no longer.
     
                              PROSECUTOR
          And is it true, Miss Moritz, that you love Victor
          Frankenstein? That your heart was broken?
               (off her silence)
          Answer the question. Do you love Victor
          Frankenstein?
     
     Her gaze wanders to Victor, eyes locking on his. stares
     back, trapped.
     
                              JUSTINE
          I have always loved him.
     
                              PROSECUTOR
          Is it also not true that you murdered his brother
          William in a misdirected crime of passion?
     
                              JUSTINE
          Murder Willie? In my heart, he was our child.
          Victor's and mine. Such
          a thing could never have entered my mind.
     
                              PROSECUTOR
          So you have claimed. Yet you have no explanation
          for this.
               (holds up the locket)
          The locket last seen in the hands of the poor
          murdered child was found hidden in your dress the
          morning following the murder. The locket you so
          coveted.
               (leans close)
          How did it come to be in your possession?
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     86
     
                              JUSTINE
          I have no knowledge of that.
     
     EXT - FIELD - DAY
     
     A PAIR OF FEET drop heavily in frame. THUMP-CRACK! A shoe
     flies off. The CROWD gasps. Mrs. Moritz collapses WAILING to
     the ground. Elizabeth drops to her side to comfort her.
     Victor just stands staring. ANGLE WIDENS to reveal Justine
     dangling from the noose, neck broken, hands bound and feet
     still twitching.
     
     EXT - SAME FIELD - NIGHT
     
     Another eerie echo of before: a storm is raging. The body
     dangles from the scaffold, lashed by wind and rain. Victor
     looms from the darkness, staring.
     
     And then a massive white hand thrusts into frame and grabs
     his shoulder. Victor whirls and finds himself staring up
     into the last face he ever expected to see again, the
     hideous necrotic features bathed in a purple/white GLARE OF
     LIGHTNING. He SCREAMS as the Creature lashes out, grabs him
     by the coat, draws him breathlessly closer, inch by inch,
     eyeball-to-eyeball, grinning his awful rictus grin. Softly:
     
                              CREATURE
          Frankenstein.
     
     Victor is speechless with horror. The Creature raises his
     arm, pointing with an impossibly long and bony finger. Look
     there. Victor does. LIGHTNING dances in the sky,
     illuminating Mont Blanc with a crackling halo of electricity
     
     
     ... and then the Creature is gone, vanishing like a shadow
     in the darkness.  Victor falls gasping. The awful truth
     dawning. He rises, gazing at the scaffold, horrified.
     
                              VICTOR
          Oh God. Oh God! No! NOOOOOOO!
     
     Screaming now, rushing to the scaffold, throwing his arms
     around the innocent girl dangling there, sliding down,
     sinking to his knees, weeping helplessly:
     
                              VICTOR
          Oh God. Justine. Forgive me.
     
     INT - MANSION - STUDY - DAWN
     
     Victor pulls a carved box from a shelf. open.-, it. Lying
     inside in their velvet cradle are a gorgeous pair of Model
     1820 Collier flintlock revolvers.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     87
     
     MANSION - DAWN
     
     Victor is bundled in a rough coat, packing final supplies on
     a horse held by Claude. Elizabeth is at his heels.
     
                              VICTOR
          My mind was not playing tricks. He was there in
          the storm ... gloating over his crimes ...
          challenging me to come.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          But why risk yourself? Hasn't this family
          suffered enough?
     
                              VICTOR
          I've no choice
     
                              ELIZABETH
          If what you say is true, it is a matter for the
          police!
     
                              VICTOR
          They've done a fine job. Hanging an innocent for
          the crime of a fiend.
     
     He rams the rifle into its scabbard, turns to her.
     
                              ELIZABETH
               (softly)
          Do you know this man? Is there something between
          you?
     
                              VICTOR
          I know only that he is a killer.  And I shall
          bring back his carcass.
     
     Victor heaves himself into the saddle and rides off. TILT UP
     to the mountain. Shrouded in snow. Waiting.
     
     MONT BLANC - DAY
     
     A lone horse and rider appear. on his mission of revenge ...
     Victor ascends the mountain  The mountain is brutal and
     unforgiving. Victor dismounts, leading his horse onto the
     glacier. A bitter wind blows ...
     
     They plod on. Searching. magnificent rugged vistas unfolding
     before our eyes. Primeval and vast ...
     
     The horse suddenly spooks. Victor calms him. Staring. Is
     that a figure down there? He shades his eyes against the
     cutting sleet. Somebody in the distance. Down there on the
     snow field. A tiny speck. Watching him.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     88
     
     The figure starts running, leaping across the ice with great
     bounds. Right toward Victor. Victor wrenches the carved box
     from the saddle bag. The horse bolts. Victor drops to the
     snow, throws open the box, frantically snatches up the pair
     of revolvers.
     
     He glances up. The figure is gone, vanished in drifts of
     white. Victor rises with a revolver in each hand, cocks the
     flintlocks of both, turning slowly around. Gazing at the
     rocks and crags. Searching.
     
                              VICTOR
          WHERE ARE YOU?
     
     He hears nothing but his own voice echoing back ... and then
     FEET CRUNCHING through the snow. He turns. The Creature is
     running toward him across the glacier with inhuman speed,
     greatcoat billowing like huge dark wings.
     
     Victor raises the first pistol. Hesitates. As frightened and
     angry as he is, a small part of him pauses to admire the
     achievement of actually having created life.
     He pulls the trigger. BOOM! A huge flash of powder, an
     eruption of smoke. The Creature dodges the shot, still
     coming. Victor raises the other gun. BOOM! Another flash of
     smoke. Still the Creature comes.
     
     Victor. Frantic. Manually spinning the cylinders, cocking,
     firing. BOOM! A miss. BOOM! Another miss. Spinning. cocking.
     Firing. BOOM! BOOM! Spinning. Cocking...
     
     ... And the Creature is on him, slapping the pistols clean
     out of his hands. The guns sail through the air, spinning
     off across the ice. Victor panics, turns to run   ... And
     slips over the edge of the precipice.
     
     Victor falls SCREAMING, arms and legs windmilling through a
     30-foot drop ... and slams bodily into a snowdrift.  He looks
     up. The Creature is peering down ... and leaps over  The edge
     to follow, sailing through the air to land before him in a
     cat-like crouch. He pulls Victor from the snow and sends him
     sliding across the ice with a mighty heave ...
     
     INT - ICE CAVE - DAY
     
     ... right into the mouth of an ice- cave, Victor comes
     tumbling and sliding down the entrance, spinning and
     careening to sprawl heavily to the cave floor.
     
     Winded. Battered. Barely able to move. He glances up to see
     the cave filled with possessions. Books. Provisions. Extra
     clothing. The embers of a fire burn low. There is even a
     rough attempt at furnishings in the form of a few crates.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     89
     
     A huge shadow fills the cave entrance. The storybook ogre is
     coming home to his cave, breath huffing like a steam engine.
     Victor scrambles back terrified, pressing into a corner as
     the Creature enters ...
     
     ... but the Creature merely crosses to the fire and hunkers
     down. He tosses a few more sticks on the flames. Pause.
     
                              CREATURE
          Come warm yourself if you like.
     
                              VICTOR
          You speak.
     
                              CREATURE
          Yes, I speak. And read. And think ... and know
          the ways of Man
               (pause)
          I've been waiting for you. Two months now.
     
                              VICTOR
          How did you find me?
     
     The Creature grabs Victor's journal off the "shelf." He
     unwinds the thong, the letters spill out.
     
                              CREATURE
          The letters in your journal. That and a geography
          book.
               (picks up a letter)
          Your Elizabeth sounds lovely.
     
                              VICTOR
          Kill me and have done with it
     
                              CREATURE
          Kill you? Hardly that.
     
                              VICTOR
          Then why am I here? What did you want with me?
     
                              CREATURE
          More to the point, why am I here? What did you
          want with Me?
               (off Victor's look)
          What does one say to one's Maker, having finally
          met Him face to face? Milton gave it voice.
               (grabs a book, thumbs to a certain
               page)
          Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay to mould
          me Man? Did I solicit thee from Darkness to
          promote me?
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     90
     
                              VICTOR
          Fine words from a child killer. You who murdered
          my brother.
     
                              CREATURE
          Your crime ... as well as mine.
                              VICTOR
          How dare you.  You're disgusting and evil.
     
                              CREATURE
          Evil?
               (scurries closer)
          Do you believe in evil?
     
                              VICTOR
          I see it before me.
     
                              CREATURE
          I'm not sure I believe. But then I had no one to
          instruct me. I had no mother ... and my father
          abandoned me at birth.
     
     He draws closer still. Intimate. Turning his head this way
     and that. Puzzling at Victor's face. Softly:
     
                              CREATURE
          Were the dying cries of your brother music in my
          ears?
     
     He raises his hand before Victor's eyes, bony fingers
     curling to clutch an invisible throat. Victor is petrified
     
                              CREATURE
          I took him by the throat with one hand... lifted
          him off the ground. and slowly crushed his neck.
               (emotion growing)
          That poor, innocent child died in my grip ...
          because all I could see was your face ... and all
          I could feel was my rage. And when I let him go,
          he fluttered to the grass like a sparrow...
     
     FLASHBACK INSERT: FIELD
     
     The Creature gazes down at Willie's body. He stares at the
     hand that committed the crime as if waking from a dream.
     Tears welling. overcome with shame and horror.
     
     He falls to knees in the middle of the vast field, his wail
     echoing across the countryside as he weeps over the boy.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     91
     
     RESUME ICE CAVE
     
     Victor stares in horror as the Creature relates his story
     with tears shining in his monstrous eyes.
     
                              CREATURE
          Later, when they were searching, I followed the
          pretty lady who got lost in the woods...
     
     FLASHBACK INSERT: - BARN
     
     Justine is asleep in the hay. Haggard, wet, exhausted. The
     Creature looms over her, a monstrous shape backlit by the
     lightning, gazing on her beauty. His hand reaches down,
     hovering reverently, wishing to caress the swell of her
     breasts at the neckline of her bodice ...
     
                              CREATURE (V.O.)
          She was so lovely. I longed to touch her ... and
          seek her sympathy ...
     
     The locket drops from his hand to dangle in his fingers. He
     lowers it, tucking it gently away in her pocket
     
                              CREATURE (V.O.)
          ... but I simply returned the object which had
          triggered my crime, hoping in some small way to
          atone ...
     
     RESUME ICE CAVE
     Now tears are shining in victor's eyes as well.
     
                              CREATURE
          You gave me these emotions, but you didn't tell
          me how to use them. Now two people are dead.
          Because of us.
     
     Victor is crushed by remorse. A sob escapes him.
     
                              CREATURE
          Why, Victor? Why?   What were you thinking?
     
                              VICTOR
          There was something at work in my soul which I do
          not understand.
     
                              CREATURE
          What of my soul? Do I have one?  or was that a
          part you left out?
               (spreads his hands)
          Who were these people of which I am comprised?
          Good people? Bad people?
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     92
     
                              VICTOR
          Materials. Nothing more.
     
                              CREATURE
          You're wrong. Do you know I knew how to play
          this?
     
     He grabs up the recorder, plays a brief snatch of melody.
     
                              CREATURE
          In which part of me did this knowledge reside? In
          these hands? in this mind? In this heart?
               (beat)
          And reading and speaking. Not things learned ...
          so much as things remembered.
     
                              VICTOR
          Trace memories in the brain, perhaps.
     
                              CREATURE
          Stolen memories. Stolen and hazy. They taunt me
          in my dreams. live seen a beautiful woman lying
          back and beckoning for me to love her. Whose woman
          was this? I've seen boys playing, splashing about
          in a stream. Whose childhood friends were these?
               (soft, intense)
          Who am I?
     
                              VICTOR
               (hollow)
          I don't know.
     
                              CREATURE
          Then perhaps I believe in evil after all.
     
     The Creature moves off.  Victor is emotionally exhausted
     
                              VICTOR
          What can I do?
     
                              CREATURE
          There is something I want.
               (pause)
          A friend.
     
                              VICTOR
          Friend?
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     93
     
                              CREATURE
          A companion. A female. Like me, so she won't hate
          me.
     
                              VICTOR
          Like you? Oh, God, you don't know what you're
          asking.
     
                              CREATURE
          I do know that for the sympathy of one living
          being, I would make peace with all.
               (beat)
          I have love in me the likes of which you can
          scarcely imagine. And rage the likes of which you
          would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I
          will demonically indulge the other. That choice is
          yours.
               (off his look)
          You're the one who set this in motion,
          Frankenstein.
     
                              VICTOR
          And if I consent?
     
                              CREATURE
          We'd travel north, my bride and I. To the
          furthest reaches of the Pole, where no man has
          ever set foot. There we would live out our lives.
          Together.
               (beat)
          No human eye would ever see us again. This I vow.
     
     PUSHING SLOWLY IN on Victor. Considering it. Beaten.
     
     EXT - MONT BLANC GLACIER - NEXT MORNING
     
     Victor is calming his skittish horse as the Creature looms
     into view. Victor turns. The Creature tosses Victor his
     journal. Victor hesitates, jams it into his saddlebag.
     
                              CREATURE
          Soon?
     
                              VICTOR
          Yes. I want this over and done with.
     
                              CREATURE
          I'll be waiting. And watching.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     94
     
     And with that, the Creature turns and scrambles back down
     the nearly-vertical cliff face, leaping from crags and
     boulders with superhuman agility. Victor watches him vanish
     from sight.
     
     EXT - MONT BLANC - DAY
     
     Victor descends the mountain, heading back to civilization.
     
     EXT - FRANKENSTEIN ESTATE - DAY
     
     Victor walks his horse toward the house. Elizabeth rushes
     out to meet him with Henry and Claude. Victor hands off the
     reins to the STABLEBOY and embraces Elizabeth tightly.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          I thought I'd never see you again!
     
                              VICTOR
          I'm all right. I'm safe,
     
                              HENRY
          What happened up there?
     
                              VICTOR
          I didn't find what I was looking for.
     
                              CLAUDE
          What did you find?
     
     Victor glances over. Claude has pulled the Collier pistols
     from the saddlebags and caught a strong whiff of powder.
     
                              CLAUDE
          These have been fired,
     
                              VICTOR
          At shadows. My nerves got the better of me.
     
     Victor walks on toward the house with Elizabeth
     
     EXT - GARDEN - DAY
     
     ... and we find them in discussion by the fountain:
     
                              ELIZABETH
          What sort of task?
     
                              VICTOR
          It's not something I can explain now. Perhaps
          someday.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     95
     
                              ELIZABETH
          What of our marriage? Victor, we've had so much
          tragedy. I want this family to live again.
     
                              VICTOR
          So do I.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          We need each other now, I need your comfort and
          strength, not separation and solitude.
     
                              VICTOR
          A month at most, that's all I ask.
               (draws close)
          Elizabeth, please. Things have not yet resolved.
          I must take steps to see that they do. For our
          family's sake. For our sake.
               (caresses her face)
          You are life itself. We shall seal our vow. The
          moment I am done.
     
     He leans forward to kiss her ... and pauses, hearing the
     distant MUSIC of a recorder echoing from the hills ...
     
     INT - BEDROOM - DAY
     
     Victor sits at bedside, holding Father's hand. The old man
     is a weak and frail shadow of his former self.
     
                              VICTOR
     
     You must regain your strength to preside at our wedding ...
     and spoil your grandchildren later on. These are duties you
     cannot shirk.
     
     Father smiles faintly.
     
     Victor squeezes his hand, whispers:
     
                              VICTOR
          We're all safe now. I promise
     
     INT - MANSION ATTIC - DAY
     
     Murky and dark. Victor enters, yanks a dusty curtain off a
     window to let in some daylight. He picks up a pry bar,
     approaches a stack of crates as if facing an old adversary.
     one in particular is quite large. He rams the bar into the
     wood, prying it open ... and CAMERA PUSHES IN to reveal a
     dull gleam of copper lurking within the packing straw.
     
                              VICTOR
          God forgive me.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     96
     
     MONTAGE:
     
     victor assembles his equipment, recreating the lab; Bolting
     together the sarcophagus, now resting in its cradle. Hanging
     the huge glass tube, adjusting the boom.  Installing the
     ceiling tracks and hoist mechanism.  Playing out the copper
     wire along the ceiling beams.  Hooking up the galvanic
     batteries and generators.  Testing the electrical circuit
     with goggles and thick gloves, getting a huge cascade of
     sparks ...
     
                              HENRY (O.S.)
          I prayed never to see these again ...
     
     Victor turns. Henry stands in the doorway.
     
                              HENRY
          Whatever they are
     
     Henry enters, runs his hand over the gleaming surface of the
     sarcophagus, circles toward Victor.
     
                              HENRY
          I won't bother asking what or why. You wouldn't
          tell me anyway. I just hope you know what you're
          doing ...
               (draws close)
          ... because if this is a repeat of Ingolstadt, I
          won't be around to pick up the pieces.
     
     CAMERA PUSHES PAST to the Da Vinci print on the wall,
     contact points still daubed with red ...
     
     EXT - CEMETERY - NIGHT
     
     CAMERA DRIFTS among the tombstones to reveal an eerie sight:
     SOMEONE hunched in a grave, digging madly, dirt flying. We
     hear the THUNK of a shovel hitting wood
     
     INT - COFFIN - NIGHT
     
     ... and the lid wrenches aside to reveal the Creature. He
     peers down at us, almost close enough to kiss.
     
     EXT - FRANKENSTEIN MANSION - ANGLE FROM ROOF - NIGHT
     
     The Creature nimbly climbs the outer wall, fingers grasping
     the brickwork, a dark shape slung over his shoulder. He
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     97
     
     pauses as a PAIR OF STABLEHANDS pass far below.  He pulls
     himself onto the roof, crosses the gables, and pushes open a
     dormer window. We see Victor inside as it swings open. The
     Creature enters with his prize ...
     
     INT - ATTIC - NIGHT
     
     ... and the mottled corpse of Justine Moritz flops onto the
     table before us.
     
     TILT UP to:
     
                              CREATURE
          I want her
     
     Victor stares down in utter horror. Her cold, dead face.
     Blue lips already beginning to shrivel. Purple, sunken eyes.
     Knowing that she loved him. Knowing it's his fault she's
     dead. He can barely get the words out:
     
                              VICTOR
          Why ... her?
     
                              CREATURE
          Her body pleases me.
     
     That's it for Victor. He turns away, stomach heaving. It's
     all he can do to keep from throwing up.
     
                              CREATURE
          Materials, remember? Nothing more. Your words.
     
     Victor hesitates, pulling himself together. Softly:
     
                              VICTOR
          My words
     
     He turns back, forcing himself to examine the body, trying
     not to view it as someone he knows. He cradles the head,
     probing the back of the neck with his fingers.
     
                              VICTOR
          The brain stem was destroyed by the hanging.
          We'll need another. The body looks like it will
          do, but some extremities are too decayed. They'll
          have to be replaced. The fresher the better.
     
     EXT - ALLEY - RED LIGHT DISTRICT - NIGHT
     
     Outside the back door of a rowdy tavern, we find a
     PROSTITUTE servicing a SAILOR in the alley: he's got her
     pressed against the wall, skirt hiked up. It's not long
     before he's finished. Off he goes, staggering back into the
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     98
     
     bar. She arranges her skirt, tucking the money away ... and
     pauses, noticing a TALL FIGURE in the shadows. Staring. She
     approaches with her best saucy smile:
     
                              PROSTITUTE
          Want some yourself? or just like to watch?
               (draws close)
          What do you say, lover? I can make it good for
          you.
     
     The Creature leans into the light, clamps a massive hand to
     her mouth. His other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her
     off the ground. She gazes up, eyes wide, screams muffled in
     his palm. Softly:
     
                              CREATURE
          I know you can
     
     And he wrenches his arm, snapping her spine,
     
     INT - ATTIC - NIGHT
     
     The dead prostitute lies staring up, dried blood staining
     her mouth. TILT UP to Victor gazing down in horror.
     
                              VICTOR
          What is this?
     
                              CREATURE
          A brain. Extremities.
     
                              VICTOR
          This was not taken from a grave.
     
                              CREATURE
          What does it matter? She'll live again. You'll
          make her.
     
                              VICTOR
          No. I draw the line.
     
     The Creature lashes out and drags Victor across the table.
     
                              CREATURE
          You will honor your promise to me!
     
                              VICTOR
               (through gritted teeth)
          I will not! Kill me now!
     
                              CREATURE
          That is mild compared to what will come. If you
          deny me my wedding night. I'll be with you on
          yours.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     99
     
     The Creature vanishes out the attic window into the night.
     Victor is left gasping for air, staring at the dead
     prostitute. The full horror sinking in.
     
     INT - ATTIC STAIRCASE - MORNING
     
     Victor slams the attic door, securing it with a massive
     padlock. He hurries down the steps.
     
     INT - GRAND BALLROOM - DAY
     
     Victor and Elizabeth, intensity flying:
     
                              VICTOR
          No. Not tomorrow, not next week, Marry me today.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Why the change? What about your work?
     
                              VICTOR
          It was misguided and pointless. is your answer
          yes?
     
                              ELIZABETH
          It is
     
                              VICTOR
          We'll leave this afternoon, right after the
          ceremony. Pack only what you need.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Does this have something to do with that man you
          saw?
     
                              VICTOR
               (hesitates)
          Yes. We're in danger here. Every moment we stay.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Victor, tell me why! Trust me!
     
                              VICTOR
          I do. But you must trust me for now.
     
     INT - BEDROOM - DAY
     
     A small ceremony has been hurriedly organized at Father's
     bedside. The old man holds Elizabeth's hand. Softly:
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     100
     
                              FATHER
          This is not ... the grand wedding...I had hoped
          to give you ...
     
     He releases her hand, giving the bride away. She takes her
     place at Victor's side. Henry stands as best man. The PRIEST
     faces them:
     
                              PRIEST
          We gather now in the sight of God to witness this
          man and woman bond their lives in matrimonial vow
     
     
     EXT - MANSION - DAY
     
     Elizabeth gets in the coach. Claude clambers up to the
     driver's seat armed with a rifle, ready to pull out. EIGHT
     MEN on horseback provide armed escort. Victor addresses the
     men staying behind, all of whom are also armed:
     
                              VICTOR
          Be especially on your guard. Stay cautious to a
          fault.
     
                              STABLE HAND
          Who is this man, sir? How shall we know him?
     
                              VICTOR
          He is huge and deformed ... and quite insane.
     
                              CLAUDE
          He killed Master William and sent Justine Moritz
          to the noose! No hesitation, lads! Shoot the
          bastard on sight!
     
     CRIES of assent.
     
     Victor pulls Henry aside:
     
                              VICTOR
          Are you sure you'll be all right?
     
                              HENRY
          Yes, don't worry. I'll look after your father.
          You look after her.
     
                              VICTOR
          I'll be back as soon as I've got her far away and
          safe. We'll hunt this fiend down together.
     
                              HENRY
          only if you'll tell me who he is.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     101
     
                              VICTOR
               (hesitates)
          I owe you that. Done.
     
     A quick embrace.  Victor leaps into the coach.
     
     ANGLE FROM FATHER'S BEDROOM WINDOW
     
     The coach clatters up the road, trailed by the eight
     horsemen. Those left behind scatter across the courtyard.
     Henry turns and walks back toward the house. ANGLE WIDENS to
     reveal the Creature at the window.  In the bed behind him,
     The old man stirs, opening his eyes
     
                              FATHER
          Victor?
     
     ... and sees the Creature turn toward him. Father's eyes go
     wide as his final stroke is triggered. His life ends with a
     prolonged death-rattle ... and a soft exhale. The Creature
     reaches down, closes his eyes. A tender gesture.
     
     A LOUD GASP. The Creature whirls. There stands the priest,
     dropping his tea to the floor. The Creature sweeps across
     the room, presses him against the wall.
     
                              PRIEST
               (breathless with horror)
          You're the Devil himself.
     
                              CREATURE
          Yes, and I've come to snatch your soul ...
               (leans close)
          ... unless you tell me where they've gone.
     
     EXT - LAKE GENEVA - DUSK
     
     A magnificent sunset bathes the mountains as storm clouds
     roll in. A ferry is crossing the lake, moving away from us,
     rippling the water. TILT DOWN to reveal ...
     EXT - FERRY DOCK - DUSK
     
     Claude trotting to the window of the coach.
     
                              CLAUDE
          That was the last ferry. There's nothing else
          till morning.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     102
     
                              VICTOR
          Damn it
     
                              CLAUDE
          We'll ride on ahead and secure you lodging for
          the night.
     
     EXT - RESORT - NIGHT
     
     A big chalet nestled in the woods by the lake. The storm is
     raging. Claude and his men are positioned at the entrances.
     
                              VICTOR
          Make sure you keep your pistols dry
     
                              GUARD #2
          They're dry enough. And if they fail, we've
          others. And if those fail ...
               (draws his saber halfway)
          ... we can always gut the bastard.
     
                              CLAUDE
          Don't worry, sir. You're well guarded. Now why
          don't you go upstairs to your wife? It's not often
          a man has his wedding night.
     
     INT - BRIDAL SUITE - NIGHT
     
     Victor enters to find the room aglow with dozens of candles.
     Elizabeth turns from the fireplace, her body silhouetted
     through the sheer white nightgown.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          You're soaking.
     
     She approaches, peels off his coat. Victor stares at her,
     awe-struck. She sees the look in his eyes, crosses her arms
     demurely ... then laughs at her own modesty.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Brother and sister no more.
     
                              VICTOR
          Now husband and wife.
     
     He strokes her bare shoulders with his fingertips
     
                              VICTOR
          I remember the first time I ever saw you.
          Crossing the floor of the grand ballroom with my
          parents at. your side. So beautiful even then.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     103
     
                              ELIZABETH
               (a whisper)
          I have been waiting for this ever since.
     
     She leans up and gives him a kiss that would melt glass,
     triggering the sexiest seduction imaginable ...
     
     ... kissing, caressing, Victor stripping off his wet shirt,
     CAMERA DRIFTING around them in slow circles, candles
     spinning like a fever that's been building for a lifetime
     
     
     ... and now onto the bed. Magnificent and canopied. Kneeling
     together, bodies touching, hands seeking, mouths joining ...
     
     Elizabeth lying back, beckoning for him to love her. Victor
     sinking down, running his hands up her thighs, peeling up
     the nightgown, making her shudder with desire...
     
     ... and a SHOT FIRES. Victor jerks up. He can hear SHOUTING.
     He rolls off the bed, snatching up both pistols lying primed
     and ready on the nightstand.
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Victor!
     
                              VICTOR
          open this door for no-one!
     
     EXT - CHALET - NIGHT
     
     Victor sails past the GUARD at the entrance, brandishing his
     pistols. The men converge, shouting in the rain:
     
                              GUARD #2
          I saw him in a flash of lightning! He vanished
          toward the lake!
     
                              CLAUDE
          Get after him!
     
     Several men race off in pursuit. TILT UP from Victor and
     Claude ... as a FLASH OF LIGHTNING reveals the Creature
     clinging in the branches above their heads with a malevolent
     smile.  He scurries  silently up, further and further into
     the tree ... closer and closer to the balcony.
     
     INT - BRIDAL SUITE - NIGHT
     
     Elizabeth. Tense and waiting. A shadow looms across the
     balcony ... spilling through the French doors ... onto the
     floor ... a bony hand reaches for the latch ...
     
     The doors burst open on a crust of wind and rain, Elizabeth
     spins as candles blow out all over the room. The Creature
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     104
     
     enters, massive and unseen, gliding in shadow. Softly:
     
                              CREATURE
          Don't bother to scream.
     
     EXT - CHALET - NIGHT
     
     The men come running back from the lake. They stop before
     Victor and Claude.
     
                              GUARD #3
          We lost him.
     
     and GUARD #4's eyes drift up:
     
                              GUARD #4
          Why are those open?
     
     Victor spins, gazing up. Breath catching in his throat. The
     French doors are swaying in the wind.
     
                              VICTOR
          Elizabeth.
     
     INT - BRIDAL SUITE - NIGHT
     
     Elizabeth watches, transfixed, as the huge shadow moves
     inexorably toward her. Her eyes dart toward the door. She
     makes a break for it. He catches her halfway across the
     room, spinning her around by the arm.  Her face is lit by
     the light of the fireplace.
     
     The Creature pauses, stunned at her beauty. A moment passes
     between them. She senses the softening in his heart. She
     peers at him, trying to understand. Realizing:
     
                              ELIZABETH
          You don't want to hurt me.
     
     He averts his gaze, shamed by her beauty.
     
                              CREATURE
          You're more lovely than I could ever have
          imagined.
     
     FOOTSTEPS come pounding up the stairs. A HEAVY CRASH of men
     throwing their shoulders at the door...
     
                              VICTOR
          ELIZABETH!
     
     ... and it changes back in an instant, The Creature snarls.
     She tries to wrench away. He spins her around so he won't
     have to look at her in the light, casting her face in
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     105
     
     shadow. He cooks his arm back and plunges his fist toward
     her chest with pile-driver force ...
     
     INT - LANDING (OUTSIDE ROOM) - NIGHT
     
     ... and her SCREAM is cut short.-The men give one last mighty
     rush at the door ...
     
     INT - BRIDAL SUITE - NIGHT
     
     ... and they burst in just in time to see Elizabeth cascade
     back onto the bed, her chest a massive red stain. The
     Creature whips toward them, fist glistening with blood ...
     
                              CREATURE
          I keep my promises.
     
     ... and he races across the room as the men OPEN FIRE,
     shredding the walls to splinters with an explosive fusillade
     of shots. But the Creature is too fast. He hits the leaded
     window head-on with the force of an anvil ...
     
     EXT - CHALET - NIGHT
     
     ... and goes sailing out into empty space in a hurricane of
     shattering glass. He drops 40 feet to the grass below and
     vanishes like the breeze, greatcoat whipping into darkness.
     
     INT - BRIDAL SUITE - NIGHT
     
     Victor rushes to the bad and lets loose the most PRIMAL
     SCREAM OF ALL. He sweeps his limp, murdered bride into his
     arms, cradling her to his breast, screams trailing off into
     wracking moans and sobs of despair:
     
                              VICTOR
               (softly)
          oh God ... he took her heart...he took her heart
          from me ...
     
     EXT - CHALET - NIGHT
     
     The men make way as Victor carries his dead wife through the
     downpour. He puts her in the coach. Dazed.
     
     EXT - ROAD - NIGHT
     
     The coach comes racing through the storm, the horses in a
     frenzy, faster and faster.
     
     EXT - MANSION - NIGHT
     
     Victor whipping the coach veers to a wild stop. Victor jumps
     down, gathers up the body, and mounts the steps. Henry
     appears, rushing out into the rain. Victor goes right past
     him ...
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     106
     
     MANSION - NIGHT
     
     ... and carries Elizabeth through the silent halls.
     
     ATTIC - NIGHT
     
     The door swings in. Victor stands dripping. Holding
     Elizabeth. Gazing at the gleam of copper ...
     
     MONTAGE:
     
     And we launch into the final throbbing madness. Victor
     hacking and chopping. Discarding pieces.  Sewing the
     creation, yanking the catgut tight.  Ramming the needles
     deep.  Hoisting the body in the air.  Slamming the
     sarcophagus lid, tightening the bolts.  Powering up the
     galvanic circuit, throwing the switch.
     Screaming at God as the LIGHTNING FLASHES and the body
     convulses. Wind and rain sweeping through the lab, battering
     a window open and shut, open and shut. Lowering the glass
     tube, ramming phallus into womb.  Releasing the eels, huge
     black sperm squirming and writhing toward the spasming egg
     
     
     The body. Convulsing. Lashing. Screaming in the copper womb.
     Hair whipping in the fluid ...
     
     Victor shuts down the machinery. He opens the tank and
     reaches into the fluid with his thick rubber gloves. He
     pulls out his creation, cradling the head and neck as one
     would cradle a newborn infant's ...
     
     ... And wipes the muck away with his glove to reveal
     Elizabeth's face, Massive suture marks bisect her neck and
     collarbone where pieces were joined. A whisper:
     
                              VICTOR
          Live.
     
     Her eyes flies open as consciousness hits, mouth gaping to
     draw air but finding fluid in the lungs. She erupts,
     thrashing in the vat. He clutches her tight, pounding her
     back to start her breathing, calming the convulsing
     Creaturess with soft murmured words of tenderness and love
     as her lungs heave violently to dispel the fluid ...
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     107
     
     He lifts her gently out. Wipes off the muck as she shivers
     and shakes, spasms easing off. Cleansing her face. Clasping
     her hand in his. Comfort and strength ...
     
     Helping her to her feet. Jerky and unsure. Lean on me.
     Replacing the sheer nightgown on her scarred and naked body,
     draping it ... and finally, exhaustingly, tilting her chin
     up with his fingers to gaze into her eyes. A whisper:
     
                              VICTOR
          Say my name.
     
     Blank. Dazed. Stunned. Not a flicker of recognition.
     
                              VICTOR
          Elizabeth. Say my name. Say you remember. Say my
          name.
     
     Nothing. He leans forward ... and kisses her dead lips.
     Gentle as a sigh. A flicker in her eyes?
     
                              VICTOR
          You must. You must.
     
     Maybe his imagination. Still whispering:
     
                              VICTOR
          Say my name. Say you remember
     
     And slowly ... ever so slowly ... she raises her bony white
     hand before her eyes ... staring at it ... trying to puzzle
     it out ... its meaning ... perhaps the vaguest shred of
     recognition ... and the hand continues to rise ... creeping
     slowly toward his shoulder ... and coining to rest there. He
     smiles, blinking back tears ...
     
                              VICTOR
          Yes. I'll help you remember,
     
     ... and he takes her other hand in his. At first it's
     imperceptible...just the slightest motion, perhaps nothing,
     perhaps just a shift of balance ... and then it grows into
     the vaguest sway ... and tears are glistening in Victor's
     eyes as she begins to move. Lurching. Faltering. Unsure.
     
     You must lead, Victor. The lady will always look to you for
     guidance, so your steps must be sure and strong.
     
     Trace memories.
     
     A waltz.
     
     And here we are treated to the most sweepingly romantic and
     hair-raisingly demented image of the film: Frankenstein
     dances with his dead bride, showing her the way, begging
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     108
     
     her to remember, please remember, and now our WALTZ/LOVE
     THEME really comes back to haunt us as the MUSIC SWELLS,
     incredibly lush and deranged, dissonant and echoing through
     Victor's head, music only he can hear ...
     
                              VICTOR
          ... one-two-three, twirl-two-three.
     
     ... and the worst part? The very worst thing of all? There
     on the shelf. A large formaldehyde jar. Justine's severed
     head. Watching them through the glass with dead, sightless
     eyes. Watching them dance. Still a wallflower? No. She's
     finally finishing her dance with Victor ... most of her,
     anyway. Under the circumstances, it'll have to do ...
     
     ... and the waltz goes on, madder and madder, sweeping in
     glorious circles as a dazzling array of LIGHTNING bathes
     them in its wild, jittering spotlight, shadows careening
     across the walls, INSANE MUSIC swelling louder and louder,
     climbing higher and higher, reaching toward its crescendo
     with jagged glass claws ...
     
     ... and it all screeches to a stop as the door bursts in.
     Music echoes abruptly away into silence. Nothing now but
     rain and distant thunder. In the doorway:
     
                              CREATURE
          She's beautiful.
     
                              VICTOR
          She's not for you.
     
                              CREATURE
          I'm sure the lady knows her own mind. Doesn't
          she? Let her decide the proper suitor.
     
     The Creature raises his hand. Beckoning. She takes a
     faltering step. Drawn to him.
     
                              VICTOR
          Elizabeth, no!
               (she turns, puzzled)
          Say my name.
     
     Her face reflects horror and shame, like a brain-damaged
     child who's wet the bed. She knows she's supposed to
     remember ... but can't remember what remembering means.
     They both motion to her. Murmuring. Begging. She's caught
     between them, pulled like a diaphanous rope in a tug of war.
     Please ... come with me. Please ... remember.  She finally
     tilts toward the Creature. Gazing into his eyes. Studying
     his face. Fingertips tracing his massively
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     109
     
     scarred flesh. A beat. A frown. A puzzlement. This isn't
     right. People don't look like this. They're not stitched
     together out of pieces of flesh like a patchwork.
     
     She looks at her own hands. Dead and white. Not even hers.
     One belongs to Justine. Another to a prostitute, suture
     scars marring the wrist. She looks down at herself. The
     dead, sagging breasts. The body that isn't hers either.
     Realization creeping into her eyes. Realization and horror.
     Turning to Victor. Why do I look like this? What's happened
     to me? Oh God, what's happened to me?
     
                              ELIZABETH
          Vic ... tor?
     
                              CREATURE
          ... no ...
     
     ... and she lets out a SHRIEK, a banshee wail from the
     deepest pits of hell. Screaming at them both. Screaming at
     herself. She goes berserk, trying to claw her flesh away,
     try    to find the real Elizabeth underneath the horror,
     trying to peel it away, clawing at her face. trying to Claw
     out her own eyes.
     
     Victor lunges to restrain her, screaming himself, veering
     toward final utter madness like strings snapping on a
     violin. The Creature grabs him, hurls him aside.
     
                              CREATURE
          GET AWAY FROM HER! SHE'S MINEI
     
                              VICTOR
          SHE'LL NEVER BE YOURS! SHE SAID MY NAME! SHE
          REMEMBERS!
     
     Yes. She remembers. Not much, but enough. She breaks away
     from them as they grapple, still SHRIEKING as she sails
     across the room, tipping furniture, equipment flying ...
     
     ... over straight to the kerosene lamp, snatching it up
     before they can stop her.
     
                              VICTOR
          NO!
     
     She spins to face them, holding them breathlessly at bay
     with the threat of the lamp, twitching from one to the
     other. But it's not just the lamp, it's the look of sheer
     loathing in her eyes. Loathing for them for what they've
     done to her ... loathing for herself for what she's become.
     
     It turns out the lady does know her own mind. She wants no
     part of it ... or them. Decision made. She crushes the lamp
     in her bare hands, drenching herself in a cascade of
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     110
     
     kerosene. WHOOOOSH! She goes up like a blazing matchstick
     and darts past them, still SHRIEKING, still trying to claw
     the dead flesh away, pulling off giant flaming pieces of
     herself as she careens out the door and down the steps,
     Victor and the Creature racing after her ...
     
     INT - UPPER HALLWAY - NIGHT
     
     ... and she sails down the hallway, setting FIRE to
     everything she passes, SCREAMING for the final torment to
     end. she hurls herself over the railing, drapes catching
     ablaze as she plummets to the floor far below. a pillar of
     flame leaps up on impact.
     
     VICTOR AND THE CREATURE face each other as flames sweep the
     walls, combusting the upper hallway into a raging tunnel in
     Hell.
     
                              VICTOR
          You killed her! You killed her!
     
     He hurls himself at the Creature, who backhands him spinning
     down the hallway, sprawling to the floor. The Creature gazes
     down at his Maker one last time ...
     
                              CREATURE
          We killed her
     
     And then vanishes through the smoke and flames.
     
     EXT - FRANIKENSTEIN ESTATE - DAY
     
     The once-magnificent estate lies in smoldering ruin beneath
     a merciless gray sky. Charred beams and drifting smoke are
     all that remain to mark the passing of a noble family.
     
     Victor stands gazing at the house. A windswept, hollow man
     Bundled in a rough coat. Flintlock rifle dangling at his
     side. Henry moves into frame some distance behind. Softly:
     
                              HENRY
          Victor.
     
     No reaction. For a long moment it seems Victor hasn't heard.
     He rouses as if from a trance, turn and walks to his pack
     horse. The animal stands saddled and ready.
     
     He starts to mount up, but Henry intercepts him with a
     restraining hand. Victor snaps a look as if seeing a
     stranger ... and then his features soften.
     
                              VICTOR
          All that I once loved lies in a shallow grave. By
          my hand.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     111
     
                              HENRY
          Let it go.
     
     Victor pauses, emotions swirling. Wishing he could grab the
     dangling thread of sanity Henry has offered ... but knowing
     the thread is a bittersweet illusion. A bare whisper:
     
                              VICTOR
          You should have been my father's son. He would
          have been so proud.
     
     Victor abruptly heaves himself into the saddle and spurs his
     horse. Henry runs after him, shouting:
     
                              HENRY
          VICTOR! COME BACK!
     
     But Victor keeps riding without so much as a backward
     glance. The past is dead. Henry watches Victor until he's
     gone from sight, as Willie did so long ago ...
     
     EXT - MONT BIAANC GLACIER - DAY
     
     The solitary rider and his mount traverse the windswept
     glacier ...
     
     INT - THE CREATUREIIS CAVE - DAY
     
     Victor slides down the entrance, rifle cradled. The cave is
     now deserted, all possessions gone, a scorched black spot
     where the campfire had been ...
     
     EXT - GLACIER - DAY
     
     A panorama of snow. Pristine...save for the long trail of
     footprints stretching off before us.
     
     Victor's face thrusts into frame, gazing at the craggy
     horizon, breath punching the air with billows of vapor.
     
     He slogs onward, following the tracks, leading his horse by
     the reins. Dwindling across the frozen landscape.
     
                              ARCTIC VICTOR (V.O.)
          I followed his trail north ... always north ...
          and always one step behind ... never
          stopping...driven by my fires of rage ... and
          revenge ...
     
     DISSOLVE TO:
     
     INT - WALTON"S CABIN - TWILIGHT
     
     Victor lies in Walton's bed, sallow as a corpse, barely able
     to speak, drained now of everything.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     112
     
                              VICTOR
          A year now I've followed him. Perhaps more. Only
          to arrive at this place. Tired. So very tired. I
          never did find ... whatever it was...I was looking
          for...and neither will you, my friend.
               (off Walton's look)
          Value life above ambition ... or those glittering
          prizes you seek will crumble to dust in your
          fingers... as they have in mine.
               (reaches out feverishly)
          See your loved ones again. I cannot.
     
     Walton takes Victor's hand, lays it gently back to his
     chest. Softly:
     
                              WALTON
          Rest now.
     
     Victor is silent. His breathing shallow. Walton just sits
     And waits...
     
     A SLOW DISSOLVE marks the passage of Walton's long vigil ...
     
     Victor's eyes flutter open as if staring at something
     unseen. Perhaps, the faces of those he loved. The eyes
     glaze. A peaceful death.  Walton rises. Puts on his heavy
     coat to ward off the chill. Exits the cabin.
     
     EXT - NEVSKY - ON DECK - TWILIGHT
     
     Grigori is leaning on the gunwale, staring off across the
     ice. His coat is open. Walton joins him. Surprised at how
     warm it is. He holds up his hand, testing the breeze.
     
                              WALTON
          A warming wind.
     
                              GRIGORI
          This ice will break yet.
               (glances over)
          How's our guest?
     
                              WALTON
          He died. Raving about phantoms. He was mad, poor
          devil.
               (beat)
          Gather a detail. Have the body removed from my
          cabin.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     113
     
                              GRIGORI
          Aye, Captain.
     
     Grigori moves off to gather help. Walton turns and heads
     back to his cabin.
     
     INT - WALTONIS CABIN - NIGHT
     
     Walton enters ... and freezes at the sound of SOFT WEEPING.
     He can't see the bad from here. Could it be the dead man? He
     glances down. Wet footprints lead across the floor.
     
     He eases forward. The tiny bed chamber comes slowly into
     view. A DARK FIGURE is hunched and weeping at bedside,
     holding the corpse's hand. Walton is stunned.
     
                              WALTON
          Who are you?
     
     The figure swivels its head, revealing its face to the dim
     yellow light:
     
                              CREATURE
          He never gave me a name.
     
     Walton hisses a terrified intake of breath. He lunges to the
     desk, slaps his hand on the pistol lying there. A frozen
     beat. Wondering if he should snatch it up. Eyes dancing with
     fear and speculation. The Creature makes no move.
     Unconcerned.
     
                              CREATURE
          You were with him at the end.
     
                              WALTON
               (finds his voice)
          Yes.
     
                              CREATURE
          I was watching.
     
     Walton glances to the porthole, ajar and creaking in the
     breeze, chilled at the thought. The Creature returns his
     gaze to Victor.
     
                              CREATURE
          I longed to be with him. But I wanted his final
          moments to have peace. I could see you were a
          friend to him.
     
                              WALTON
          What is that to you? Evil as you are.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     114
     
                              CREATURE
               (swivels his gaze)
          I am as he made me. In his own image.
     
                              WALTON
          You drove him to his torment.
     
                              CREATURE
          And he drove me to mine.
     
                              WALTON
          Then why weep for him?
     
                              CREATURE
          Would you not? He was father. And mother. We fell
          from grace together. He from his God. I from mine.
     
     The Creature gently strokes Victor's cheek. He reaches up
     with two fingers, closes the staring eyes. A whisper:
     
                              CREATURE
          Could we ever have forgiven?
     
     The question goes unanswered. The Creature rises, gliding in
     shadow to the door. Pauses.
     
                              CREATURE
          I've never been shown a kindness. Show me one
          now.
     
                              WALTON
          What kindness?
     
                              CREATURE
          Build for him a pyre. Light up the sky with his
          passing.
     
     And then the Creature is gone, vanishing smoothly into the
     night ...
     
     EXT - ARCTIC - TWILIGHT
     
     The crew of the Nevsky are on the ice, chopping up the
     fallen mast, axes rising and falling in waves ...
     
     EXT - ARCTIC - TWILIGHT
     
     The body of Victor Frankenstein lies on an impressive bier
     of wood, stacked and lashed. His body is wrapped in rough
     canvas, his face as dead and white as the ice.
     
     Walton and crew stand facing the bier. Walton silently reads
     a passage from the Bible. Oily black smoke from a small
     campfire drifts past.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     115
     
     Walton closes the book. Amens are muttered. Walton glances
     to Grigori and nods. Grigori moves forward with two other
     men. They begin dousing the pyre with lamp oil, soaking it.
     
     Walton moves to the campfire, picks up an unlit torch. He
     dips it into the fire, igniting-the pitch, turns. The men
     back away, preparing for the coming blaze...
     
     ... and a dog starts howling on deck, others joining in.
     The men pause. Gazing across the ice. Dread seeping into
     their bones. There's a figure out there. Huge and humanlike
     in frame. Loping slowly over the ice. Approaching.
     
                              PILOT
               (softly)
          Christ.
     
     Grigori snatches up the rifle, shoulders it smoothly, cocks
     the flintlock. Walton glances over, pushes the muzzle
     skyward, denying his aim.
     
                              WALTON
          It has a right to bear witness
     
     Grigori hesitates, nods. If you say so. The men grow more
     unsettled as the Creature draws nearer. Frightened
     muttering. Men start backing toward the ship.
     
                              WALTON
          Stand fast. All of you.
     
     The men stand fast. The Creature stops some thirty yards
     out. A silent tableau on the ice. The men facing the
     Creature. Walton holding the torch. The pyre waiting for the
     kiss of flame. Walton moves forward ...
     
     ... and a THUNI)EROUS CRACK is heard, The men whip their
     heads as a gigantic plate of ice goes spinning into the air
     some fifty yards away and comes crashing back down again.
     
     It's like tectonic plates building pressure toward an
     earthquake: once it goes, it goes with terrifying speed and
     force: CRACY! Another eruption. CRACK! And another. CRACK!
     Ice cascading skyward.
     
                              OLD SAILOR
          THE BITCH IS BREAKIN' UP!
     
                              GRIGORI
               (whips toward Walton)
          TORCH THE DAMN THINGI
     
     Walton rushes forward. CRACK! The ice erupts before him. The
     torch goes flying. Walton sprawls flat on his back.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     116
     
                              WALTON
          BACK TO THE SHIP!
     
     The men don't have to be told twice. They're already in full
     retreat, scrambling for their lives. Ice is detonating for
     miles around as if pounded by artillery.  Grigori helps
     Walton to his feet. The torch lies burning not ten feet
     away. A heartbeat of hesitation. Walton wondering if he
     should go for it. Grigori pulling wildly on his sleeve ...
     
                              GRIGORI
          LEAVE IT!
     
     ... and then the matter is decided for them as a huge rift
     opens at their feet, running an explosive zig-zag course
     across the ice, separating them from the torch.
     
     They fall back to join the retreat, stumbling after the
     others, pursued by the ice dissolving at their heels.
     
     THE CREATURE watches his last wish for Victor Frankenstein
     snatched away by God's whim and breaking ice.
     
     No
     
     He starts forward. Behind him, a detonation of ice throws a
     massive fist into the air, creating a magnificent halo of
     cascading water and spinning fragments.
     
     THE NEVSKY
     
     The first wave of fleeing men reach the ship, crowding to
     the drop-net for salvation, scrambling up the side.
     
     WALTON AND GRIGORI stumble along, closing distance to the
     ship. Walton glances back, amazed to see:
     
     THE CREATURE
     
     racing across the ice, making for the torch, teeth set in a
     wide grimace of effort. Detonations threaten to swallow him
     from all sides. Suddenly, things go from bad to worse.
     
     THE NEVSKY
     
     breaks free with an enormous groan, heeling slowly over,
     triggering massive eruptions in all directions. The crew
     hang onto the drop-net for dear life. Several men plummet
     into the icy water.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     117
     
     THE CREATURE is propelled by a detonation as if held stepped
     on a land mine, cartwheeling helplessly through the air to
     plunge headfirst into the water, huge plates of spinning ice
     crashing down after him. Gone.
     
     WALTON AND GRIGORI  are knocked flat as a fissure appears
     between them. Grigori, dazed, is lifted into the air on a
     teetering table of ice, desperately trying to scramble back
     but sliding forward nonetheless, rising up and up, a gaping
     maw of frigid water yawning wider and wider before him.
     
     Walton grabs the back of Grigori's coat and tries to drag
     him off ... but the coat is snatched from his fingers as the
     ice see-saws forward in a complete flip and slams Grigori
     thunderously into the drink.
     
                              WALTON
          GRIGORI!
     
     THE NEVSKY finishes righting itself, swaying ponderously as
     she finds honest ocean beneath her hull. Some men are
     reaching the top of the net, hurling themselves over the
     gunwale to the deck. Those lower on the drop-net are helping
     their fellows from the water, hauling them to safety.
     
     FRANKENSTEIN'S BIER is now corkscrewing in slow circles on
     its own ice floe.
     
     THE TORCH is drifting on a chunk of ice. Still burning.
     
     ANGLE AT WATER LEVEL
     
     Walton is on hands and knees, scrambling on shifting pieces
     of ice, thrusting his arms into the water, screaming:
     
                              WALTON
          GRIGORI!
     
     The first mate breaks surface in the foreground, gasping and
     strangling for breath, face already turning blue, arms
     thrashing wildly, dragged down by the now-impossible weight
     of his own clothing.
     
     Walton strains to reach him, nearly going into the water
     himself. Grigori keeps thrashing and gasping. Dying. He's
     dying right in front of Walton's eyes.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     118
     
                              WALTON
          SOMEBODY THROW ME A GAFF!
     
     Too late. Grigori goes down for the final time, vanishing
     for good beneath the frigid water. Gone. Walton throws his
     head back with a bellow of anguish ...
     
     ... and Grigori breaks the surface again, rising slowly And
     impossibly from the water. arms and legs windmill against
     the air, propelled from below with nearly aulic strength. He
     gazes down in shock at the massive fist clutching his chest
     ... and the arm that grows and grows, rising, lifting him up
     and up ... and the hideous face that breaks the surface
     beneath him. The face of a nightmare.
     
     The Creature lunges hugely, hurling Grigori through the air
     right into Walton's arms. Both men go sprawling. Walton
     scrambles to his knees, makes eye contact with the Creature.
     The monster is exhausted. Near his limit. Walton thrusts out
     his arm, fingers grasping to help.
     
                              WALTON
          Swim.
     
     The Creature swivels his gaze. The burning torch is drifting
     away. He looks grimly back to Walton. Walton beckoning to
     him. Come. Grab my hand.
     
     The Creature swims away, knifing through the water after the
     torch. Walton turns, drags Grigori gasping to his feet,
     helps him limp toward the Nevsky across the lurching ice.
     
     CREATURE struggles through the water, crushed and battered
     by ice floes on all sides. Going under.
     
     WALTON AND GRIGORI slog grimly on across the disintegrated
     ice, knee-deep and nearly walking on water. They sink,
     finding nothing beneath their feet. Lines are thrown down
     and caught.
     
     Walton and Grigori are hauled from the frigid arctic water
     and hoisted up the side of the ship. The last ones aboard.
     
     BURNING TORCH is spinning slowly on its chunk of ice.  Bony
     fingers break the surface of the water. A straining hand.
     The Creature's eyes rise from the murk. Bleary with
     exhaustion and cold.  He seizes the torch. Raises it high.
     Swims grimly on.
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     119
     
     ABOARD THE NEVSKY
     
     The crew bundle Walton and Grigori in blankets, both men
     shivering with exposure. Walton lurches to the gunwale,
     gazing off. The men crowd to his-side.
     
     THE CREATURE swims on, head barely breaking the water, torch
     held high to keep it burning. Relentlessly determined. This
     is the most grueling effort we've ever seen. Gasping and
     sinking beneath the surface ...
     
     ... and finally grasping with frozen fingers the ice floe
     upon which lies Frankenstein's funeral pyre. He hauls
     himself from the water. Moving now in a slow-motion litany
     of exhaustion. Climbing the pyre. Scaling the wood. Seeking
     the top. Never giving up.
     
     The Creature joins his Maker atop the bier, straddling the
     wood, holding the torch aloft as if lighting his master's
     way to the Netherworld, Frankenstein's personal boatman
     across the River Styx. Frankenstein himself lies serenely at
     his creation's knees, content to be shown the way ...
     
     The Creature turns his face to the sky, gulping air,
     spreading his arms wide in sublime triumph. Feeling the wind
     on his skin, the sleet on his face, the grim joy in his
     heart. Cold. So very cold.
     
     He glances at the torch burning low in his outstretched
     hand, pitch almost gone, sputtering and trailing smoke.  He
     looks down. At Frankenstein. The oil-soaked canvas. The
     saturated wood. There's that smell. Yes.  He scoops Victor
     up with his free arm and cradles him to his breast, as
     tender as a mother comforting a baby.
     
     WALTON AND THIE CREW gaze in horror. Realization dawning:
     
                              GRIGORI (softly)
          Don't do it ...
               (screaming)
          FOR GOD'S SAKE! DON'T DO IT!
     
     THE CREATURE
     turns his gaze one last time toward Heaven. Eyelids
     fluttering in near-religious ecstasy. Finding in these last
     moments the sympathy held so long sought. A whisper:
     
     (CONTINUED)
     
     120
     
                              CREATURE
          For God's sake ... I will.
     
     And he rams the torch into the pyre beneath him. White-hot
     ignition. Ultimate redemption. WHUMPI A massive BALL OF
     FLAME engulfs the bier, pushing a huge fiery fist into the
     sky. Blossoming. Roiling.
     
     WALTON AND THE CREW gaze on in wonder and horror as:
     
     THE CREATURE rides the burning pyre, a shrieking revenant
     wrapped in a caul of fire, screaming in the flames. Hair
     going up at a sizzling flashpoint. Cheeks billowing out,
     peeling back in the blast-furnace heat. Flesh cleansing from
     bone. Teeth charring and turning black. Still cradling
     Victor. Still screaming. waiting for the final torment to
     end. Perhaps it never will ...
     
     FRANKENSTEIN'S PYRE drifts off into the arctic twilight
     trailing a huge column of flame and smoke, inhuman screams
     echoing endlessly.  Lost in the darkness and distance.
     
     WALTON stands at the gunwale, his crew at his side. The
     borealis dances mysteriously on the horizon. Distant slivers
     of lightning kiss the world. Softly:
     
                              WALTON
          Home
     
     EXT - ARCTIC - TWILIGHT
     
     HIGH AERIAL SHOT. An ocean of broken ice beneath us. The
     Alexander Nevsky heels gingerly about, corkscrewing through
     a slow turn toward the open sea as we FADE TO BLACK
     
     THE END