terrain, the tiny fields of cultivation, strands of sound are woven through the main titles, borne on the wind, images from the life we are seeking:
British: "Who the hell is he?!", lower class British: "I dont know, sir." . . . "My name is Gandhi. Mohandas K. Gandhi." . . . A womans voice, tender, soft: "You are my best friend, my highest guru . . . and my sovereign lord." . . . A man (Gandhi):
ARCTIC BLUE
by Ross LaManna
FADE IN:
1 EXT. BOREAL FOREST - ALASKA - (AERIAL SHOT) - DAY
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Flying. Not at the intangible height of a jet, but at
spitting distance from the treetops. Were in central
Alaska, the Big Lonely, just north of the Arctic Circle.
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A thick forest follows the contours of mountain foothills
like a deep-pile carpet. Up at treeline the forest thins to
tundra, a grassy