one of the Preview briefs
Oct. 23rd, 2007 09:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
titusnowlDover. Establishing shot of the cliffs is basically obligatory. In port, a smug-looking man with a suitcase is stopped at Customs and pulled out of the line. His suitcase, when opened and inspected, reveals a goodly quantity of packaged cocaine. Customs officials hand him over to Claude Eustace Teal, who handcuffs him and escorts him onto a waiting train. Overhead shot of train leaving, series of cuts and zooms bringing us in through the window of the compartment Teal and his prisoner are in, clear shot of the frosted glass door to the compartment with its red lettering reading RESERVED, then out into the corridor of the train, where Simon Templar is strolling contentedly with his stick tucked under his arm. He pauses at the compartment door, then pushes on in. Teal looks up, annoyed.
TEAL: Can you read?
TEMPLAR: No.
TEAL: RESERVED. Do you know that word?
TEMPLAR: No.
Simon takes the opposite seat in the compartment and arranges himself neatly and comfortably.
TEMPLAR: I know you're sore at me, old bacillus, but really, you asked for it... anyway, can't we kiss and be friends?
TEAL: No.
TEMPLAR: Have a cigarette?
TEAL: I don't smoke cigarettes.
TEMPLAR: A cigar, then?
TEAL: I've had some of your jokes. Does this one explode, or is it the kind that blows soot all over your face when you light it?
Simon hands a cigar to Teal, who inspects it minutely before carefully lighting it and, satisfied, beginning to puff contentedly.
TEAL: Maybe I've been unreasonable. But YOU asked for something before I ever did. And one day you'll get it. See this bright boy?
Teal gestures to his prisoner.
TEAL: I've been after him for the best part of a year. And he's had plenty of laughs off me before I got him. Now it's my turn. It'll be the same with you. I can wait. One day you'll go too far, you'll make a mistake, and -
TEMPLAR: I know that man. He is a blackmailer and a dealer in drugs. His name is Cyril Farrast, and he is thirty-two years old. He has one previous conviction.
TEAL: I know all that. But how do you know?
TEMPLAR: I've been looking for him. Even now I still want him. Not for the dope business - I see you're going to take care of that - but for a girl in Yorkshire. There are thousands of stories like it, but this one happened to come to my notice. He'll recognize the name - but does he know who I am?
TEAL: I'll introduce you. Cyril, this is Mr. Simon Templar. You've heard of him. He's known as the Saint.
TEMPLAR: Oh, no. That's only Teal's nasty suspcious mind... but if I WERE the Saint, I should want you, Cyril fFarrast, because of Elsa Gordon, who committed suicide eleven days ago. I ought to kill you, but Teal has told me to be good. So, instead -
FARRAST: It's a lie! You can't touch me -
TEAL: Templar, if you think you're going to do anything funny -
TEMPLAR: I'm sure of it.
Simon checks his watch.
TEMPLAR: That cigar, for instance, is due to function about now. No explosives. No soot. A much better joke than that...
Teal looks at him, surprised, then starts to droop, puts a hand to his head, convulsively pitches the cigar out the window, begins to reach for his pocket; but it is too late for him. The camera loses focus, sways in imitation of the motion of the train, goes black.
TITLE: THREE DAYS LATER
Black screen, camera panning back to reveal a large black coffin. Labels affixed to it read FRAGILE - HANDLE CARELESSLY - ANY OLD SIDE UP. It is TICKING loudly. It lies on its back in the middle of Hyde Park in the dead of night, surrounded by police bomb squad members and Claude Eustace Teal. One policeman very carefully opens it. Reveal interior of coffin: a large mechanical alarm clock, and Cyril Farrast, bound and gagged and severely beaten. They pull him out and to his feet. His back is bloodied. Then one more package is pulled from the coffin, a small cardboard box. It contains a slip of paper bearing the sign of the Saint. Sufficient pause on the stick figure to register it as important for the audience. Then reveal remaining contents of box: a single cigar. Claud Eustace takes it and bites the end off it angrily.
TEAL: Can you read?
TEMPLAR: No.
TEAL: RESERVED. Do you know that word?
TEMPLAR: No.
Simon takes the opposite seat in the compartment and arranges himself neatly and comfortably.
TEMPLAR: I know you're sore at me, old bacillus, but really, you asked for it... anyway, can't we kiss and be friends?
TEAL: No.
TEMPLAR: Have a cigarette?
TEAL: I don't smoke cigarettes.
TEMPLAR: A cigar, then?
TEAL: I've had some of your jokes. Does this one explode, or is it the kind that blows soot all over your face when you light it?
Simon hands a cigar to Teal, who inspects it minutely before carefully lighting it and, satisfied, beginning to puff contentedly.
TEAL: Maybe I've been unreasonable. But YOU asked for something before I ever did. And one day you'll get it. See this bright boy?
Teal gestures to his prisoner.
TEAL: I've been after him for the best part of a year. And he's had plenty of laughs off me before I got him. Now it's my turn. It'll be the same with you. I can wait. One day you'll go too far, you'll make a mistake, and -
TEMPLAR: I know that man. He is a blackmailer and a dealer in drugs. His name is Cyril Farrast, and he is thirty-two years old. He has one previous conviction.
TEAL: I know all that. But how do you know?
TEMPLAR: I've been looking for him. Even now I still want him. Not for the dope business - I see you're going to take care of that - but for a girl in Yorkshire. There are thousands of stories like it, but this one happened to come to my notice. He'll recognize the name - but does he know who I am?
TEAL: I'll introduce you. Cyril, this is Mr. Simon Templar. You've heard of him. He's known as the Saint.
TEMPLAR: Oh, no. That's only Teal's nasty suspcious mind... but if I WERE the Saint, I should want you, Cyril fFarrast, because of Elsa Gordon, who committed suicide eleven days ago. I ought to kill you, but Teal has told me to be good. So, instead -
FARRAST: It's a lie! You can't touch me -
TEAL: Templar, if you think you're going to do anything funny -
TEMPLAR: I'm sure of it.
Simon checks his watch.
TEMPLAR: That cigar, for instance, is due to function about now. No explosives. No soot. A much better joke than that...
Teal looks at him, surprised, then starts to droop, puts a hand to his head, convulsively pitches the cigar out the window, begins to reach for his pocket; but it is too late for him. The camera loses focus, sways in imitation of the motion of the train, goes black.
TITLE: THREE DAYS LATER
Black screen, camera panning back to reveal a large black coffin. Labels affixed to it read FRAGILE - HANDLE CARELESSLY - ANY OLD SIDE UP. It is TICKING loudly. It lies on its back in the middle of Hyde Park in the dead of night, surrounded by police bomb squad members and Claude Eustace Teal. One policeman very carefully opens it. Reveal interior of coffin: a large mechanical alarm clock, and Cyril Farrast, bound and gagged and severely beaten. They pull him out and to his feet. His back is bloodied. Then one more package is pulled from the coffin, a small cardboard box. It contains a slip of paper bearing the sign of the Saint. Sufficient pause on the stick figure to register it as important for the audience. Then reveal remaining contents of box: a single cigar. Claud Eustace takes it and bites the end off it angrily.
