분야
hwp by
David Franzoni
FIRST DRAFT REVISED
April 4, 1998
FADE IN:
EXT. NEAR THE GERMAN FRONT - 180 A.D. - DAWN
The rising sun unveils steep hills and luxuriant mountains
untouched by man. Snow flurries dart in the frigid air
and on the horizon CROWS gather.
EXT. DIRT ROAD
A column of Praetorian Cavalry flank two enclosed wagons
as they rattle along a rock and log accordion road. On
all sides a forest rises like some kind of primordial
soul: limitless and dark. With every step steam
whooshes from the nostrils of the horses.
The first wagon halts as a Praetorian Guard jogs back. He
straightens his tunic and helmet and raps on the wooden
door as the second wagon stops behind. The door swings
aside and another Praetorian Guard leans out.
1ST PRAETORIAN GUARD
Sir, we must be getting near.
INT. FIRST WAGON
LUCIUS AELIUS AURELIUS COMMODUS huddles in the back of the
wagon: Dark hair, handsome, beard; as Commodus rises we
see hes a large, powerfully built young man and though
barely twenty years old he already has the caution and
arrogance of a Caesar.
Opposite A GAUNT MAN climbs from a heap of blankets:
GALEN of PERGAMUM, probably the most frozen, unhappy man
on earth. The wagon is lined with pillows and blankets.
Baskets of bread and dried fruit are stacked in one corner
and an oil lamp hangs from a pivoting cleat like the
swinging lamp in a ship.
2ND PRAETORIAN GUARD
Caesar, were nearly there.
EXT. WAGON
Commodus steps down and pulls his cape up against the
bitter cold. Galen follows, curiously overcoming his
natural hatred of discomfort. TRIBUUS, burly Praetorian
Guard commander salutes Commodus and leads him to the edge
of a gully. Tribuus is an old-timer for whom Commodus is
just another royal pain-in-the-ass.
THE GULLY IS BLACK WITH CROWS -- with their endless "CAW-
CAW-CAW" they feast on corpses and in the shadows below
ROMAN SOLDIERS bury dead comrades. Compared with the
burnished perfection of the Praetorian Guards these
typical infantry grunts are grizzled and battered.
COMMODUS
Soldier! What happened here!
A legionnaire stops working, spits, leans on his shovel so
he can shout up toward Tribuus and Commodus. Galen squats
beside a corpse, fascinated.
LEGIONNAIRE
We had a battle!
COMMODUS
I can see that. You leave your dead
on the field?
LEGIONNAIRE
General Narcissus beat the Germans
here and now the whole army is
moving fast! No time to let them
get away!
THE SECOND WAGON --
as a twenty-five year old ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN opens the
door. She is LUCILLA -- Commodus sister. Lucilla pulls
her coat tight against the wind.
LUCILLA
Where are we now, Commodus? Can you
see the camp? My Gods! The air is
turning into ice!
COMMODUS
Were nearly there, Lucilla.
LUCILLA
Thats what you told me two days
ago!
COMMODUS
Will you please get back in your
wagon? And stay there?
LUCILLA
Im tired of being stuck in that
wagon.
Embarrassed by Commodus childish spat with is sister,
Tribuus gestures to the 2nd Praetorian.
TRIBUUS
Soldier, help the Emperors sister.
As a soldier jogs back up toward Lucilla Commodus looks
down at the legionnaire leaning on his shovel.
COMMODUS
Where is my father?
TRIBUUS
Where is the emperor and the army,
soldier?
The legionnaire points up the road. Commodus and Tribuus
return to the wagon. Galen rolls the dead soldier over
and sticks his finger into a gaping chest wound, then
notices the legionnaire glaring at him.
GALEN
Im a doctor.
The legionnaire studies him a second, then the corpse as
if giving a second opinion.
LEGIONNAIRE
Well, youre too late.
Galen pulls back in revulsion at his impudence. He
scrambles to follow Commodus. The legionnaire spits and
gets back to work.
EXT. DIRT ROAD - DAWN
The wagon crests a hill with a precipitous view of the
valley and torches that seem to fill the lingering dark
far below. The wagon makes straight for them.
AND COMMODUS...
Riding on a seat on the front of the wagon, wrapped to his
chin in a bearskin blanket -- absolutely set on catching
up with the army.
EXT. GERMAN FRONT - VINDOBONA - 182 A.D. - NIGHT
On the edge of a forest sixty year old EMPEROR MARCUS
AURELIUS stands in the back of an unharnessed supply wagon
surrounded by a dark so black its barely moved by blazing
torches.
A WOLF -- living symbol of Rome -- stand before the wagon
held on a leash by a battle-hardened SENIOR CENTURION:
SERVIS.
Marcus wears the purple robe of imperial power over his
leather and copper segmented upper body armor (LORICA
SEGMENTATA). His breath clouds in the bitter cold; the
man is tired to the bone.
OPPOSITE STANDS THE ROMAN ARMY
This is the mighty army of the Danube, yet it seems like
these men -- buried in the shadows and as frozen and worn
as their leader -- have come to the very edge of the world
to be swallowed by this wilderness.
NUMIDIAN ARCHERS, tall Africans, out of place in this
freezing land, stand behind their leader -- JUBA -- who
has the whip-like body of a dancer. Each carries his
recurve bow as if it were a delicate musical instrument.
Quivers of brigh
