분야
hwp by
Robert Rodat
March 26, 1999
FADE IN:
EXT. THE SWAMPS OF SOUTH CAROLINA - NIGHT
Dark. Ominous. Kudzu hangs from the swamps maples. A
dark and forbidding place. A bird CRIES EERILY in the
darkness. Insects HUM ominously.
SUPERIMPOSITION:
FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR
A detachment of French soldiers with several wagons makes
its way along a muddy road cut through the swamp. The
soldiers are wary, scanning the underbrush, weapons ready.
In the swamp, parallel to the road, SHADOWED FIGURES,
hidden among the brush, silently track the French
soldiers.
As the lead wagon rolls over a muddy puddle, straddling
it, a MUD-COVERED FIGURE, reaches up, grabs the wagons
undercarriage, pulls itself up and clings, unseen to the
underside of the wagon. The figure, obscured by the mud,
barely looks human.
As the other wagons roll over other muddy depressions in
the road, three more mud-covered figures reach up, grab
and cling to the underside of other wagons.
FORT CHARLES
The gates are opened. The relieved French soldiers
quicken their pace and hurry into the relative safety of
the fort. In the fort yard the weary detachment
disperses.
UNDER THE LEAD WAGON
The first dark, mud-covered figure silently drops to the
ground and draws a distinctive TOMAHAWK from his belt as
the other figures drop from the other wagons.
The figures crawl through the shadows toward the sentries
who are closing the main gates. THEY SPRING... the lead
figure dashes forward, raises his TOMAHAWK and HACKS DOWN
at a TERRIFIED FRENCH SENTRY...
The other muddy figures join the attack... stifling the
screams of the French soldiers with VICIOUS KNIFE
SLASHES... gaining precious seconds...
A FRENCH SOLDIER CRIES OUT... sounding the alarm... other
FRENCH SOLDIERS come running out of the darkness...
The four muddy figures, make a stand at the gate, brutally
killing the French soldiers as they come, holding the
gates open as...
Dozens of other muddy figures race out of the surrounding
swamp, tearing through the fort gates, joining the
slaughter...
The lead figure, HACKS, again and again with his
tomahawk...
Blood and flesh cover his arm as the vicious blade rises
and falls amid the SCREAMS in the darkness...
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. SOUTH CAROLINA COUNTRYSIDE - DAY
Beautiful sunlight. AERIAL SHOT of a post rider galloping
along a road through peaceful untamed woodlands. Soaring
old-growth elms arch over riverside maples along the
shores of the gently curving, deep-water Santee River.
SUPERIMPOSITION:
SOUTH CAROLINA
April, 1776
The post rider rides along a raised swamp road. On either
side of the road, gorgeous shafts of sunlight pierce the
canopy falling onto soft, swaying ferns that cover the
high grounds. Hundreds of BIRDS SING. The water is
clear, with fields of floating lily pads, each with a
stark white flower rising from it.
EXT. FRESH WATER PLANTATION - DAY
The post rider approaches a plantation built between the
banks of the river and the deep green of the swamps,
passing acres of perfectly tended rice paddies. Two
sturdy brothers, NATHAN, 13 and SAMUEL, 12, work alongside
three adult male African freedmen, JOSHUA, JONAH, MICA,
planting rice. They look up from their work as the rider
passes. Nathan and Samuel take off running after the post
rider.
THE HOUSE
The post rider approaches the house, built of native
brick, well-constructed and well-maintained. Theres a
barn, a workshop and a forge. It is a home of substance
rather than wealth. On the front porch, MARGARET, 11,
pumps a butter churn while her brother, WILLIAM, 6,
watches. They see the post rider. Margaret excitedly
runs off toward the workshop while William stares at the
approaching rider who is trailed by Nathan and Samuel.
INT. WORKSHOP - DAY
A perfect colonial workshop, fastidiously arranged with
every conceivable tool of the period. A foot-powered
lathe. A drop-forge. A lifting saw. Racks of tools,
planes, hammers, augers, drills, blocks, all hanging in
their places. All very well-worn.
BENJAMIN MARTIN methodically works his lathe, turning a
piece of hardwood, shaving off tiny curls of wood with a
razor-sharp chisel. Hes in his late-forties, strong and
weathered. His hands, though big and callused, handle the
chisel with a surgeons precision. Self-educated and
self-sufficient, he has built himself, as he built his
farm, brick by brick, from the coarse clay of the earth.
A finely-made rocking chair, missing only the dowel on
which Martin is working, sits on the work table. The
chair is a work of art, thin and light, a spider-web of
perfectly turned wood, no nails, no glue. Sitting on the
woodpile, SUSAN, 4, a silent, stone-face wisp of a child,
watches her father. Margaret races in.
MARGARET
Father! A post rider!
Martin pointedly continues his work without looking up.
MARTIN
Very well.
Margaret waits, then, seeing that her father isnt going
to come, she turns and races out.
EXT. FRESH WATER PLANTATION - DAY
The post rider rides up to the house. ABIGALE AND ABNER,
a middle-aged African couple, ste
