Shawshank Title Page, Schemes and Mind Maps of Business

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THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION

by Frank Darabont

Based upon the novella "Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption" by Stephen King

Final Draft February 22, 1993

INT. - CABIN - NIGHT (1946)

A dark, empty room.

The door bursts open. A MAN and WOMAN enter, drunk and giggling, horny as hell. No sooner is the door shut than they're all over each other, ripping at clothes, pawing at flesh, mouths locked together.

He gropes for a lamp, tries to turn it on, knocks it over instead. Hell with it. He's got more urgent things to do, like getting her blouse open and his hands on her breasts. She arches, moaning, fumbling with his fly. He slams her against the wall, ripping her skirt. We hear fabric tear.

He enters her right then and there, roughly, up against the wall. She cries out, hitting her head against the wall but not caring, grinding against him, clawing his back, shivering with the sensations running through her. He carries her across the room with her legs wrapped around him. They fall onto the bed.

CAMERA PULLS BACK, exiting through the window, traveling smoothly outside...

EXT. - CABIN - NIGHT (1946)

...to reveal the bungalow, remote in a wooded area, the lovers' cries spilling into the night...

...and we drift down a wooded path, the sounds of rutting passion growing fainter, mingling now with the night sounds of crickets and hoot owls...

...and we begin to hear FAINT MUSIC in the woods, tinny and incongruous, and still we keep PULLING BACK until...

...a car is revealed. A 1946 Plymouth. Parked in a clearing.

INT. - PLYMOUTH - NIGHT (1946)

ANDY DUFRESNE, mid-20's, wire rim glasses, three-piece suit. Under normal circumstances a respectable, solid citizen; hardly dangerous, perhaps even meek. But these circumstances are far from normal. He is disheveled, unshaven, and very drunk. A cigarette smolders in his mouth. His eyes, flinty and hard, are riveted to the bungalow up the path.

He can hear them fucking from here.

He raises a bottle of bourbon and knocks it back. The radio plays softly, painfully romantic, taunting him:

INT. - COURTROOM - DAY (1946)

THE JURY listens like a gallery of mannequins on display, pale-faced and stupefied.

D.A. (O.S.) Mr. Dufresne, describe the confrontation you had with your wife the night she was murdered.

ANDY DUFRESNE

is on the witness stand, hands folded, suit and tie pressed, hair meticulously combed. He speaks in soft, measured tones:

ANDY It was very bitter. She said she was glad I knew, that she hated all the sneaking around. She said she wanted a divorce in Reno.

D.A. What was your response?

ANDY I told her I would not grant one.

D.A. (refers to his notes) ) "I'll see you in Hell before I see you in Reno." Those were the words you used, Mr. Dufresne, according to the testimony of your neighbors.

ANDY If they say so. I really don't remember. I was upset.

FADE TO BLACK: 2ND TITLE UP

D.A. What happened after you and your wife argued?

ANDY She packed a bag and went to stay with Mr. Quentin.

D.A. Glenn Quentin. The golf pro at the Falmouth Hills Country Club. (MORE)

The man you had recently discovered was her lover. (Andy nods) ) Did you follow her?

ANDY I went to a few bars first. Later, I decided to drive to Mr. Quentin's home and confront them. They weren't there...so I parked my car in the turnout...and waited.

D.A. With what intention?

ANDY I'm not sure. I was confused. Drunk. I think mostly I wanted to scare them.

D.A. You had a gun with you?

ANDY Yes. I did.

FADE TO BLACK: 3RD TITLE UP

D.A. When they arrived, you went up to the house and murdered them?

ANDY No. I was sobering up. I realized she wasn't worth it. I decided to let her have her quickie divorce.

D.A. Quickie divorce indeed. A. caliber divorce, wrapped in a handtowel to muffle the shots, isn't that what you mean? And then you shot her lover!

ANDY I did not. I got back in the car and drove home to sleep it off. Along the way, I stopped and threw my gun into the Royal River. I feel I've been very clear on this point.

D.A. (cont'd)

ANDY

(faint, bitter smile) Since I am innocent of this crime, sir, I find it decidedly inconvenient the gun was never found.

FADE TO BLACK: 5TH TITLE UP

INT. - COURTROOM - DAY (1946)

The D.A. holds the jury spellbound with his closing summation:

D.A. Ladies and gentlemen, you've heard all the evidence, you know all the facts. We have the accused at the scene of the crime. We have foot prints. Tire tracks. Bullets scattered on the ground which bear his fingerprints. A broken bourbon bottle, likewise with fingerprints. Most of all, we have a beautiful young woman and her lover lying dead in each other's arms. They had sinned. But was their crime so great as to merit a death sentence?

He gestures to Andy sitting quietly with his ATTORNEY.

D.A. (cont’d) I suspect Mr. Dufresne's answer to that would be yes. I further suspect he carried out that sentence on the night of September 21st, this year of our Lord, 1946, by pumping four bullets into his wife and another four into Glenn Quentin. And while you think about that, think about this...

He picks up a revolver, spins the cylinder before their eyes like a carnival barker spinning a wheel of fortune.

D.A. (cont’d) A revolver holds six bullets, not eight. I submit to you this was not a hot-blooded crime of passion! That could at least be understood, if not condoned. (MORE)

No, this was revenge of a much more brutal and cold-blooded nature. Consider! Four bullets per victim! Not six shots fired, but eight! That means he fired the gun empty...and then stopped to reload so he could shoot each of them again! An extra bullet per lover...right in the head. (a few JURORS shiver) ) I'm done talking. You people are all decent, God-fearing Christian folk. You know what to do.

FADE TO BLACK: 6TH TITLE UP

INT - JURY ROOM - DAY (1946) 7

CAMERA TRACKS down a long table, moving from one JUROR to the next. These decent, God-fearing Christians are chowing down on a nice fried chicken dinner provided them by the county, smacking greasy lips and gnawing cobbettes of corn.

VOICE (O.S.) Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty...

We find the FOREMAN at the head of the table, sorting votes.

FADE TO BLACK: 7TH TITLE UP

INT. - COURTROOM - DAY (1946)

Andy stands before the dais. THE JUDGE peers down, framed by a carved frieze of blind Lady Justice on the wall.

JUDGE You strike me as a particularly icy and remorseless man, Mr. Dufresne. It chills my blood just to look at you. By the power vested in me by the State of Maine, I hereby order you to serve two life sentences, back to back, one for each of your victims. So be it.

He raps his gavel as we

CRASH TO BLACK: LAST TITLE UP.

D.A. (cont’d)

Cigarettes, a bag of reefer if you're partial, a bottle of brandy to celebrate your kid's high school graduation. Damn near anything, within reason.

He slips somebody a pack of smokes, smooth sleight-of-hand.

RED (V.O.) (cont’d) Yes sir, I'm a regular Sears & Roebuck.

TWO SHORT SIREN BLASTS issue from the main tower, drawing everybody's attention to the loading dock. The outer gate swings open...revealing a gray prison bus outside.

RED (V.O.) (cont’d) So when Andy Dufresne came to me in 1949 and asked me to smuggle Rita Hayworth into the prison for him, I told him no problem. And it wasn't.

CON Fresh fish! Fresh fish today!

Red is joined by HEYWOOD, SKEET, FLOYD, JIGGER, ERNIE, SNOOZE. Most cons crowd to the fence to gawk and jeer, but Red and his group mount the bleachers and settle in comfortably.

INT. - PRISON BUS - DUSK (1947)

Andy sits in back, wearing steel collar and chains.

RED (V.O.) Andy came to Shawshank Prison in early 1947 for murdering his wife and the fella she was bangin'.

The bus lurches forward, RUMBLES through the gates. Andy gazes around, swallowed by prison walls.

RED (V.O.) (cont’d) On the outside, he'd been vice- president of a large Portland bank. Good work for a man as young as he was, when you consider how conservative banks were back then.

RED (V.O.) (cont'd)

EXT. PRISON YARD - DUSK (1947)

TOWER GUARD

All clear!

GUARDS approach the bus with carbines. The door jerks open. The new fish disembark, chained together single-file, blinking sourly at their surroundings. Andy stumbles against the MAN in front of him, almost drags him down.

BYRON HADLEY, captain of the guard, slams his baton into Andy's back. Andy goes to his knees, gasping in pain. JEERS and SHOUTS from the spectators.

HADLEY On your feet before I fuck you up so bad you never walk again.

ON THE BLEACHERS

RED There they are, boys. The Human Charm Bracelet.

HEYWOOD Never seen such a sorry-lookin' heap of maggot shit in my life.

JIGGER Comin' from you, Heywood, you being so pretty and all...

FLOYD Takin' bets today, Red?

RED (pulls notepad and pencil) Bear Catholic? Pope shit in the woods? Smokes or coin, bettor's choice.

FLOYD Smokes. Put me down for two.

RED High roller. Who's your horse?

FLOYD That gangly sack of shit, third from the front. He'll be the first.

RED

C'mon, boys, who's gonna prove me wrong? (hands go up) Floyd, Skeet, Joe, Heywood. Four brave souls, ten smokes apiece. That's it, gentlemen, this window's closed.

Red pockets his notepad. A VOICE comes over the P.A. speakers:

VOICE (AMPLIFIED) Return to your cellblocks for evening count.

INT. - ADMITTING AREA - DUSK (1947)

The new fish are marched in. Guards unlock the shackles. The chains drop away, rattling to the stone floor.

HADLEY Eyes front.

WARDEN SAMUEL NORTON strolls forth, a colorless man in a gray suit and a church pin in his lapel. He looks like he could piss ice water. He appraises the newcomers with flinty eyes.

NORTON This is Mr. Hadley, captain of the guard. I am Mr. Norton, the warden. You are sinners and scum, that's why they sent you to me. Rule number one: no blaspheming. I'll not have the Lord's name taken in vain in my prison. The other rules you'll figure out as you go along. Any questions?

CON When do we eat?

Cued by Norton's glance, Hadley steps up to the con and screams right in his face:

HADLEY YOU EAT WHEN WE SAY YOU EAT! YOU PISS WHEN WE SAY YOU PISS! YOU SHIT WHEN WE SAY YOU SHIT! YOU SLEEP WHEN WE SAY YOU SLEEP! YOU MAGGOT- DICK MOTHERFUCKER!

Hadley rams the tip of his club into the con's belly. The man falls to his knees, gasping and clutching himself. Hadley takes his place at Norton's side again. Softly:

NORTON Any other questions? (there are none) I believe in two things. Discipline and the Bible. Here, you'll receive both. (holds up a Bible) Put your faith in the Lord. Your ass belongs to me. Welcome to Shawshank.

HADLEY Off with them clothes! And I didn't say take all day doing it, did I?

The men shed their clothes. Within seconds, all stand naked.

HADLEY (cont’d) First man into the shower!

Hadley shoves the FIRST CON into a steel cage open at the front. TWO GUARDS open up with a fire hose. The con is slammed against the back of the cage, sputtering and hollering. Seconds later, the water is cut and the con yanked out.

HADLEY (cont’d) Delouse that piece of shit! Next man in!

The con gets a huge scoop of white delousing powder thrown all over him. Gasping and coughing, blinking powder from his eyes, he gets shoved to a trustee's cage. The TRUSTEE slides a short stack of items through the slot -- prison clothes and a Bible. All the men are processed quickly -- a blast of water, powder, clothes and a Bible...

INT. - INFIRMARY - NIGHT (1947)

A naked CON steps before a DOCTOR and gets a cursory exam. A penlight is shined in his eyes, ears, nose, and throat.

DOCTOR Bend over.

The con does. A GUARD with a penlight in his teeth spreads his cheeks, peers up his ass, and nods. Andy is next up. He gets the same treatment.

RED (V.O.) (cont’d) It's as good a thing to bet on as any, I guess. I had my money on Andy Dufresne...

INT. - ANDY'S CELL - NIGHT (1947)

The bars slam home. Andy is alone in his cell, clutching his clothes. He gazes around at his new surroundings, taking it in. He slowly begins to dress himself...

EXT. - SHAWSHANK PRISON - NIGHT (1947)

A malignant stone growth on the Maine landscape. The moon hangs low and baleful in a dead sky. The headlight of a PASSING TRAIN cuts through the night.

INT. - RED'S CELL - NIGHT (1947)

Red lies on his bunk below us, tossing his baseball toward the ceiling and catching it again. He pauses, listening. FOOTSTEPS approach below, unhurried, echoing hollowly on stone.

INT, - CELLBLOCK FIVE - NIGHT (1947)

LOW ANGLE. A CELLBLOCK GUARD strolls into frame.

GUARD That's lights out! Good night, ladies.

The lights bump off in sequence. The guard exits, footsteps echoing away. Darkness now. Silence. CAMERA CRANES UP the tiers toward Red's cell.

RED (V.O.) I remember my first night. Seems a long time ago now.

Red looms from the darkness, leans on the bars. Listens. Waits. From somewhere below comes faint, ghastly tittering. VOICES drift through the cellblock, taunting:

VARIOUS VOICES (O.S.) Fishee fishee fisheeee...You're gonna like it here, new fish. (MORE)

A whooole lot...Make you wish your daddies never dicked your mommies...You takin' this down, new fish? Gonna be a quiz later. (somebody LAUGHS) Sshhh. Keep it down. The screws'll hear...Fishee fishee fisheeee...

RED (V.O.) The boys always go fishin' with first-timers...and they don't quit till they reel someone in.

The VOICES keep on, sly and creepy in the dark...

INT. - VARIOUS CELLS - NIGHT (1947)

...while the new cons go quietly crazy in their cells. One man paces like a caged animal...another sits gnawing his cuticles bloody...a third is weeping silently...a fourth is dry-heaving into the toilet...

INT. - RED'S CELL - NIGHT (1947)

Red waits at the bars. Smoking. Listening. He cranes his head, peers down toward Andy's cell. Nothing. Not a peep.

HEYWOOD (O.S.) Fat-Ass...oh, Faaaat-Ass. Talk to me, boy. I know you're in there. I can hear you breathin'. Now don't you listen to these nitwits, hear?

INT. - FAT-ASS' CELL - NIGHT (1947)

Fat-Ass is crying, trying not to hyperventilate.

HEYWOOD (O.S.) This ain't such a bad place. I'll introduce you around, make you feel right at home. I know some big ol' bull queers who'd love to make your acquaintance...especially that big white mushy butt of yours...

And that's it. Fat-Ass lets out a LOUD WAIL of despair:

FAT-ASS OH GOD! I DON'T BELONG HERE! I WANNA GO HOME!

VARIOUS VOICES (O.S.) (cont'd)

Fat-Ass keeps blubbering and wailing. Total freak-out. Hadley draws his baton, gestures to his men. Open it.

A GUARD unlocks the cell. Hadley pulls Fat-Ass out and starts beating him with the baton, brutally raining blows. Fat-Ass falls, tries to crawl.

The place goes dead silent. All we hear now is the dull THWACK-THWACK-THWACK of the baton. Fat-ass passes out. Hadley gets in a few more licks and finally stops.

HADLEY (cont’d) Get this tub of shit down to the infirmary. (peers around) If I hear so much as a mouse fart in here the rest of the night, by God and Sonny Jesus, you'll all visit the infirmary. Every last motherfucker here.

The guards wrestle Fat-Ass onto a stretcher and carry him off. FOOTSTEPS echo away. Lights off. Darkness again. Silence.

INT. - RED'S CELL - NIGHT (1947)

Red stares through the bars at the main floor below, eyes riveted to the small puddle of blood where Fat-Ass went down.

RED (V.O.) His first night in the joint, Andy Dufresne cost me two packs of cigarettes. He never made a sound...

INT. - CELLBLOCK FIVE - MORNING (1947)

LOUD BUZZER. The master locks are thrown -- KA-THUMP! The cons step from their cells, lining the tiers. The GUARDS holler their head-counts to the HEAD BULL, who jots on a clipboard. Red peers at Andy, checking him out. Andy stands in line, collar buttoned, hair combed.

INT. - MESS HALL - MORNING (1947)

Andy goes through the breakfast line, gets a scoop of glop on his tray.

WE PAN ANDY through the noise and confusion...and discover BOGS DIAMOND and ROOSTER MacBRIDE watching Andy go by. Bogs sizes Andy up with a salacious gleam in his eye, mutters something to Rooster. Rooster laughs.

Andy finds a table occupied by Red and his regulars, chooses a spot at the end where nobody is sitting. Ignoring their stares, he picks up his spoon -- and pauses, seeing something in his food. He carefully fishes it out with his fingers.

It's a squirming maggot. Andy grimaces, unsure what to do with it. BROOKS HATLEN is sitting closest to Andy. At age 65, he's a senior citizen, a long-standing resident.

BROOKS You gonna eat that?

ANDY Hadn't planned on it.

BROOKS You mind?

Andy passes the maggot to Brooks. Brooks examines it, rolling it between his fingertips like a man checking out a fine cigar. Andy is riveted with apprehension.

BROOKS (cont’d) Mmm. Nice and ripe.

Andy can't bear to watch. Brooks opens up his sweater and feeds the maggot to a baby crow nestled in an inside pocket. Andy breathes a sigh of relief.

BROOKS (cont’d) Jake says thanks. Fell out of his nest over by the plate shop. I'm lookin' after him till he's old enough to fly.

Andy nods, proceeds to eat. Carefully. Heywood approaches.

JIGGER Oh, Christ, here he comes.

HEYWOOD Mornin', boys. It's a fine mornin'. You know why it's fine?

Heywood plops his tray down, sits. The men start pulling out cigarettes and handing them down.