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Frankenstein (1994)

by Steph Lady & James V. Hart.
Revised draft by Frank Darabont.
From the novel by Mary W. Shelley.
2nd revised draft, February 8, 1993

More info about this movie on IMDb.com


FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY


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.

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.

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

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!

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 ...

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.

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 ...

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?

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?

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?

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:

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?

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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 ...

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.

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?

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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!

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?

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 ...

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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 ...

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

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?

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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!

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 ...

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:

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.

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.

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,

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.

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.

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:

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.

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.

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!

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.

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,

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.

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?

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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?

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?

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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:

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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 ...

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 ...

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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:

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
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