Waterworld Remake Script Sample

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Waterworld Remake Script Sample
« on: April 20, 2009, 01:12:20 AM »
I thought Waterworld had an intersting plot but was poorly executed.


Based on the film by Peter Rader and David Twohy
And the concepts by Samuel Boettner
Written by Dan Oles

Ext. Space

The Earth turns slowly in the darkness.

MARINER V.O: Some said the world would end in fire?

With a ROAR a massive object, blue and white, hurtles through the stars, end over end, inexorably towards our planet. It?s a comet: one the size of a state.

MARINER V.O: Some said in ice?

The comet plunges through the atmosphere, hardly scratched by reentry, smashing into the pacific. The ripples created from this creep towards the continents, and begin to overwhelm them like sand banks. The ripple spreads until nearly all is blue, only a few of the tallest mountains still standing, now islands in an endless ocean.

MARINER V.O: We didn?t think it would be water.




Ext. Aitusarian Prison Compound ? Night

Rain falls from a steel grey sky. Lighting shudders in the distant storm clouds.
This small atoll about an inch under the icy waters is the only land to be seen in a vast and troubled sea. A rusted cage is anchored into it, and within mull at least fifty HUMAN PRISONERS, young and old, male and female. They try to avoid the lapping waters that course over their bare feet, huddle for warmth against the chill wind, or stare fearfully at the ocean beyond the bars.  Under the water where their constant shifting has churned the water to mud, fish bones and drifting scraps of refuse are scattered.
A teenaged boy with straggly black hair clings to the bars away from the press, eyeing the ocean suspiciously. This is YOUNG MARINER. On his neck with every breath he takes a tiny set of gills flutters.

HUMAN PRISONER O.S: They?re coming!

Mariner whirls.
Up from the sea, slithering from the depths to the storm-tossed surface en-masse, phosphorescent in the moonlight like an army of ghosts comes?the AITUSARIANS. Their webbed hands grasp rusted metal weapons and scraps of tarnished armor cling to their bodies. These were once men, but centuries of living in the submerged world has led to their degeneration into hybrids of sea creature and man. Some clutch makeshift spear guns, which they brandish as they approach. When the foremost aitusarian speaks, raising his guttural voice over the tumult, it?s is not in any language of Earth before; a harsh language which grates and pierces.
Whatever was said terrifies the prisoners who begin fighting each other to get to the back of the cage, away from the approaching aitusarians who now number twenty, with more arriving every moment. One PRISONER is struggling feverishly with the lock on the cage door.

MARINER V.O: Water is life.

The prisoner keels backwards, GASPING, a rusted spear jutting from his chest. Blood mixes into the cloudy water. SCREAMS erupt from the assembled, drowned out by the CRASH of distant thunder and more commanding GROWLS from the aitusarians.

MARINER: V.O: Water makes things grow.

The foremost aitusarian wrenches open the door and the other aitusarians begin herding prisoners chosen at random out of the cage with proddings of their spears and other bladed weapons all the time BARKING orders. One grips young Mariner by the shoulder and forces him into line.

MARINER V.O: Water makes things clean.

Young Mariner winces as he reaches under his sleeve. There?s a SQUISHING sound as he begins digging into the flesh of his arm, in the area of a badly healed patch of scar tissue. Still wincing but not once making a sound, even as he?s led to the sea along with the other prisoners, the boy draws a short length of rusted blade from the wound.

MARINER V.O: Water is freedom.

Suddenly, just as the prisoners are being goaded to the depths, young Mariner SCREAMS and drive the knife into the body of an aitusarian who SHRIEKS in mortal pain. Mariner pushes the creature down into the surf, seizes its spear gun and fires it through the face of another guard. The other prisoners turn on their captors and in the resulting confusion Mariner breaks from the group and dashes towards deeper water.
He stops and turns. Behind the cage a WOMAN reaches out towards him, screams drowned by the CRIES of battle and the storm.
A rusted spear whips past his head. He turns back to the dark sea and leaps in just as three aitusarian GUARDS pulls from the riot and rush towards his position, reloading their spear guns.
Once of the pinnacle of the atoll they start firing into the depths.

Int. Underwater

Young Mariner is swimming gracefully and swiftly thanks to his webbed hands and feet, his gills pumping with a rhythm. All around him spears rain down in trails of froth.
With an effort he strikes hard for deeper water.

One guard makes to dive in, but the other stops him.

AITUSARIAN GUARD 1 (Subtitles): But, the whelp is escaping!

AITUSARIAN GUARD 2 (Subtitles): The sea can have him back. Come. The Great One is always hungry. What?s one child more or less?

AITUSARIAN GUARD 3 (Subtitles): Besides, Jaladhai, escapees are better left unmentioned, or the superiors might execute one of us to improve our work ethic.

JALADHAI (Subtitles) I: Any show of rebellion must be crushed! I will not compromise that for your posturing.

AITUSARIAN GUARD 3 (Subtitles): You will. I won?t take the fall for this.

The two guards troop back to the riot, which is beginning to die down, leaving Jaladhai to glare out across the ocean. The young aitusarian soldier looks more human then his counterparts, thence his expression easier to discern as deep contemplation.

MARINER V.O: Water is within and without us.

Finally Jaladhai turns with a rustle of armor, his slicked and tattered cloak flapping in the wind.

Int. Underwater

Young Mariner continues to dive, down into the darkness deep as space, luminous creatures drifting in the gloom like stars.

MARINER V.O: It moves us, and moves around us.

Ext. Marina, Docktown ? Day

Two hands, wrapped in bandages and the remains of gloves hold tight to a book. Beneath the grime a salt can be seen the remains of a golden cross. This is a bible.
Tiny hands come up and touch the book, pulling it gently down to better see the inside of it. Eventually the rougher hands of the reader bring the book round so that the illustrations, runny as they are, can be seen.

MARINER O.S: See? These people are being led through the water. And here?

The hands flip the pages.

MARINER O.S: These men and woman are having water poured on them. You see. Water used to be regarded as a good thing.


Seated on a barrel draped in sailcloth, the MARINER considers this question, now a grown man. Behind him bobs ?The Wanderer?; an armored catamaran. Before him clusters a small group of CHILDREN, all listening intently as he reads from a collection of three dog-eared books.
Finally Mariner nods.

MARINER: It?s because water is not our enemy. Like the sun, the wind, and the rain it is a thing, but not a wicked thing. This?

He reaches behind him and takes up the heavy harpoon, resting against his ship. He holds it out for the wondering children to see with much OOING and AWING.

MARINER: This is a not a wicked thing either. It is a tool in the right hands. Oh, certainly it can be used for wickedness in the hands of wicked men, but it can also be a life giver, bringing us fish to eat, keeping beasts at bay and away from the innocent. If you remember one lesson from this day remember that. Nothing is wicked, unless used for wickedness.

A MOTHER and FATHER make their hasty way across the dock, scooping up one of the BOYS from the assembled children. Behind them other PARENTS are gathering, all looking worried at their sons and daughters, and casting suspicious and even angry looks at the rough figure of the Mariner.

FATHER: Aaron! Foolish boy, we?ve been searching all of Docktown!

AARON: I?m all right dad! The Mariner was telling us stories.

The father walks over to the Mariner, looking into his sea blue eyes with undisguised hatred. He reaches down and gingerly picks up one of his books. He considers it, opening it upside-down and leafing through it, as if he hardly understands its purpose.

MARINER: A book should not be treated so harshly.

FATHER: So that?s what it?s called! Mariner, was it?

Mariner nods.

FATHER: You?re a peddler of relics. You want to convince our children to buy your useless trinkets!

MARINER: All that I offer is for free.

FATHER: You all say that, you drifters!

He turns and throws the book into the ocean beyond the dock. It flutters like a water logged bird before settling on the waters.
Mariner looks up steadily at the man, face betraying no expression.

FATHER: You tie yourselves to our island only to rob us while we sleep!

The father?s eyes narrow. He?s noticed the ragged blue scarf wrapped around Mariner?s throat.

FATHER: It?s a warm day, friend. Maybe you should take off your scarf!

He reaches out and wrenches it away. Now Mariner?s gills can be seen, pulsing slowly.

FATHER: An aitusarian! I should have known. Not only a thief, but a monster.

MARINER: The aitusarians also implant gills on their prisoners and slaves.

FATHER: Then you?ll bring them down on us if you stay any longer. I won?t have my children be taken by their like.

The father stalks away, taking a girl by the hand as well and dragging her away. The other parents descend and begin taking their children.

MOTHER: We need to get indoors Aaron, Christa. Night will fall soon. All the lights must be turned down. Look, the ships are just coming in!

MARINER: Running and hiding will not save you.

The father glares back at Mariner.

MARINER: Fear will not save you.

FATHER: And you would know that secret? This world is dead, drowned! We?re all living only as long as we can stay above the water, which is never long. Your books can?t change that. Nothing can.

The children file away, flanked by dour adults, leaving Mariner alone. He SNAPS the Bible in his hands shut.

Ext. Ocean - Noon

The book floats along the surface, until a hook sinks in and scoops it into Mariner?s hands. He gets up from where he was lying across the pontoon of The Wanderer and climbs a rope later into the rigging. There, in a string hammock, he settles out and opens Robinson Crusoe. Reading by the light of the setting sun.   

MARINER V.O: Water is a passage and a destiny. Not only an end, but also a beginning. Not all who wander are lost.

Ext. Ocean - Night

A light attached to the mast blazes down onto the third book, now open. With a piece of charcoal strapped to a length of stick, Mariner is carefully writing the very passages he has just been narrating, as well as various notes about the day, his journey on The Wanderer, snatches of maps and diagrams.

Ext. Ocean - Day

The dawn rises over an uninterrupted expanse of water, two suns in sea and sky looking at each other.
Mariner is consulting a tattered map, steering wheel in his free hand. He takes out and consults a battered compass.
When his eyes turn to the horizon they widen slightly.
On an atoll in the distance he can see something glinting in the sun.
He raises a pair of binoculars.
Even though the grimy lens it?s clear: a cage of human prisoners.
Mariner lowers the binoculars very slowly, fury burning in his eyes.