Friday, January 23, 2009

Aidan screenplay excerpt

The format didn't quite work out nearly as well as I would've hoped but here's a 3 page excerpt of a screenplay I'm working on. Comments are gladly accepted.


AIDAN walks towards a large building, approaching a rear door, unlocking it. He steps inside.

I wasn’t aware of it yet.


Aidan enter’s into a clean, sparse living room. He turns around and shuts the door, fastening three locks.

But my life was beginning to change.

He walks to an adjacent kitchen and pulls a pistol from his back, placing it onto a counter.

At this point, I was living a constant routine, from
the moment I was ten.

Aidan, examining the tiny camera, walks into a dark red-lighted room.


Sup: 1990s

AIDAN MCKAY, 10, stands next to FRANK BAGLEIRI, 37, stocky and tenacious. Frank smiles to Aidan, then looks onward.

FRANK(Italian Accent)
Dante, make this piece of shit mick stand up, will you?

DANTE ASSANTE, 41, rotund and bull-like, approaches MCLEAN, bloodied and beaten, who kneels. Dante forces him up and takes a few steps back. He glances over to DON VANZINI, 46, aged but durable.

Frank looks down to Aidan, pulling a pistol from his holster.

This was the first time I ended a human life.
Aidan’s hand reaches onto the handle, Frank allows his little finger to move over the trigger.
Vanzini and Assante look at one another and step back.
Aidan and Frank aim the pistol towards McLean.
MCLEAN(Irish Accent)
Go ahead you little fuck, do it. Your father would be proud.
I am his father.
McLean mockingly laughs. Frank pulls Aidan’s finger against the trigger, FIRING a bullet into the chest of McLean-- He drops to the floor.
Frank pats Aidan’s back and takes the pistol, holstering it.
Good job, son.
Frank turns, walking towards a door. Aidan watches as Assante and Vanzini stand over McLean. Assante aims a pistol and FIRES two bullets. Aidan stares at McLean.
A line of soldiers FIRE rounds from their M1 Carbines toward targets located hundreds of meters away.
At seventeen I joined the army after dropping out of school. After a year of training I was sent overseas.
Several soldiers patrol the streets, the civilians are sparse, the ones that are visible move in fear.AIDAN walks with the squad of soldiers.
He scans around--There are the skeletal remains of vehicles, pieces of flesh and clothing remain on the hood.
I spent three years before being promoted to Warrant Officer. I spent another year and then finally completed my long Tour of Duty. After that, I was given some exclusive assignments.
A man named LINDBERG approaches Aidan with a LIEUTENANT-GENERAL. Lindberg and Aidan shakes hands.
A long line of PAKISTANI CIVILIANS, crowding near the edge of a street, await the arrival of an encroaching car--Standing in the sunroof, a PAKISTANI FEMALE, waving. Pakistani and Pakistan People’s Party flags flap in the wind off of the car.
AIDAN MCKAY, standing amongst the crowd, places a bag in between his feet, he turns and quickly walks away.
Aidan enters a near-by building--
The car slowly moves down the street, the Pakistani Female waving to the people.
AIDAN approaches the edge, peering over--
People stand on each side of the road as the car moves down the street. He reaches down and pulls a pistol with a scope.
Aidan aims the pistol over the edge, staying behind cover, waiting. The car continues moving along the street past the watching Pakistani Civilian's, the Pakistani Female still waving from the sunroof. It's close enough--
Aidan steadies his aim and FIRES round after round--
The Pakistani Female collapses from a gun shot wound into the car, Aidan continues firing towards the vehicle as it stops in the middle of the street. Security begin rushing out with guns drawn.
Aidan drops the pistol and turns, pulling a remote, he presses the trigger. A bomb EXPLODES from the side of the street, civilian’s scream and panic.
Aidan walks to the opposite edge of the roof and steps off of it.
My job was to erase people. The purpose for my actions was never much of a concern to me. I did what I was told.
Aidan, sitting on his couch, smoking a cigarette, watches his television flash images of the News. Several photographs of the Police Precinct lay on table next to the camera. Tucked neatly amongst is picture of Marilla Donnelly.
But for some reason, I was always curious...
Aidan places his cigarette onto the ashtray, standing. He saunters to a fairly bare book shelf.
I began to look for the effects of my actions.
He picks up a paper-back novel titled Nineteen-Eighty-Four.
Furthermore, I began searching for a purpose for who I was.
Aidan moseys over to the couch and sits back down, opening it to a bent page. He picks up his cigarette and inhales.

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