《1917》 影视剧本-编剧学习.docx

1917 Written by Sam Mendes Krysty Wilson-Cairns . 2018 Storyworks Productions Limited. All rights reserved. ‘Life, to be sure, Is nothing much to lose, But young men think it is, And we were young.’ -A.E. Housman ‘We have so much to say, and we shall never say it.’ -Erich Maria Remarque All Quiet On The Western Front NOTE: The following script takes place in real time, and -with the exception of one moment -is written and designed to be one single continuous shot. 1. EXT. MEADOW -DAY, APRIL 6TH 1917 A rolling landscape. The rustling of leaves, and birdsong. Thunder rumbles in the distance. There is no rain. A figure lies against a tree, eyes closed -this is SCHOFIELD, early-20s. Soft features. A man is sleeping next to him on the grass -BLAKE, 19, youthful, strapping. SERGEANT SANDERS (O.S.) Blake. Blake doesn’t stir. SERGEANT SANDERS (O.S.) (CONTD) Blake! Blake wakes. He’s in uniform, damp and crumpled -Lance Corporal chevrons adorn it. BLAKE (sleepily) Sorry, Sarge. SERGEANT SANDERS Pick a man, bring your kit. BLAKE Yes, Sarge. Blake stands, stiff limbs coming back to life. Schofield’s eyes are still shut. Blake holds out his hand to Schofield. Schofield opens his eyes -they are gentle, wise. Schofield grudgingly raises his hand for a lift. Blake heaves him to his feet -his uniform is identical to Blake’s, same rank, the only difference is the brass wound stripe on Schofield’s left sleeve. They trudge towards Sanders, fastening their webbing. A smattering of SOLDIERS -same regiment -same state of fatigue and filth, lie around them. Stealing sleep. SERGEANT SANDERS (O.S.) Don’t dawdle. BLAKE No, Sarge. 2. CONTINUED: After a few paces the long grass begins to give way to well trodden earth. Washing lines appears on either side of them. Blake and Schofield move past them. After a while - BLAKE (CONTD) Did they feed us? Schofield shakes his head, he hands an envelope to Blake. SCHOFIELD No, just mail. Blake’s eyes light up at the sight of the envelope, he tears it o