SYZYGY - 3

INT. BOARDROOM

A pie chart. A bar graph. A voice drones. We pull back, noting that the graphics are being projected on a white wall. A BUSINESSMAN is speaking in flat tones, using a laser pointer liberally.

BUSINESSMAN

This secondary trend will continue

through the third quarter, manifesting

our stock up to two cents a share.

Slide… here we have projections in

terms of functionality shown by—

TOM

(offscreen)

Functionality? What the hell kind of

word is that?

Amid quietly shocked reactions, Tom stands.

TOM

You know, the last time I looked

it up, the word was function.

He strides to the front of the room, snatches the speaker’s pointer, and slides a chair directly in front of the screen.

TOM

I’ve got a visual of my own I’d like

to introduce, if it pleases the board…

He turns swiftly toward the back wall, drops his pants, and bends over.

TOM

Here’s a fourth quarter projection

for ya, me hearties!

Tom’s pen, which has been holding his head up while he sleeps through the meeting, snaps. He sits bolt upright, and grunts.

BUSINESSMAN

A comment, Mr. White?

Tom looks around, shakes his head. As the businessman continues to drone on, Tom sighs.

BUSINESSMAN

Now here in the fourth quarter, slide…

this here is the part we’re all excited

about…

INT. OFFICE - CUBICLE ZONE

Tom is hunched in his cubicle, tapping on his keyboard. He sneaks a look back over his shoulder at the man working across the aisle from him, who has just happened to glance over at the same time. Startled, they turn back to their screens.

Tom’s phone rings. He grabs it immediately.

TOM

Accounting, this is Tom. How can I—

RAVEN

(on phone)

You can start with my neck and work

your way down.

TOM

(brightening immeasurably)

Hi! What are you up to?

RAVEN

(on phone)

No good, as usual. When are you going

to get out of there today?

TOM

Say the word and I’m out the door.

RAVEN

(on phone)

“The word”. Listen, I’ve got to talk

to you about tonight.

TOM

Sure! With the exception of the

last two weeks, this is one year I’ll

be glad to see go.

RAVEN

(on phone)

Me too. But there’s… something I

have to do.

Tom’s face suddenly registers a mixture of terror and anticipation.

TOM

What… you mean…

RAVEN

(on phone)

Yes. Just after midnight. Would you…

would you go with me?

TOM

Of course! Do I need to… prepare in

some way?

RAVEN

No. I’d just like you to be there.

It’s already planned. Just leave it

all up to me.

TOM

All right. So what do we do until

midnight?

RAVEN

I suggest we go get ourselves a couple

drinks. I’ll be waiting downstairs.

TOM

Then I’ll see you there.

RAVEN

Bye.

TOM

Bye.

He hangs up the phone, his face still uncertain, and then it breaks into a smile as he gathers up his coat.

INT. PURGATORY NIGHTCLUB - 7:00 PM

Music blares, lights throb, and people crowd the dance floor under the flashing PURGATORY sign. Tonight, instead of showing music videos, the video screens are showing large crowds in Times Square.

Tom stands at the end of the bar, exactly where he was the first time he saw Raven, drinking a beer. Raven is in the same spot too, but now she looks over at him ever few seconds and smiles, pretending not to see him and failing. He raises his glass to her, and she raises hers in return.

He moves over to her, and just as he’s about to speak, she lunges for him, kissing him savagely, almost knocking him off his feet. He returns it, and they stop just short of sinking to the floor. When their lips finally part:

RAVEN

(drunker than we’ve seen her before)

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not being too

forward, am I?

TOM

Not really. I’m still conscious.

RAVEN

Well… It’s still early.

EXT. CITY STREET - PURAGATORY CLUB - MIDNIGHT

The streets of the financial district are deserted and silent. The doors of the club suddenly burst open, and Tom and Raven emerge, to the final strains of a club remix of “Auld Lang Syne”. Raven staggers a bit. Tom manages to keep her upright.

TOM

Whoa there! You sure you’re still up

to this?

RAVEN

I’m all right, all right? Just let

me get some fresh air on the way to

the car. I’ll be fine.

INT. CAR - NIGHT

A small two-seat sports car skims along the city streets, all alone. Tom drives as Raven leans out the window, trailing her hair behind her. Some kind of industrial noise music is blaring out of the radio. Tom seems nervous about her slightly drunken state.

RAVEN

(slightly slurred)

When are you going to let me drive?

TOM

You just worry about getting prepped.

RAVEN

I am prepped. I’m always prepped.

(yelling out the window)

I was born prepped!

TOM

Look, what if I just took you home

and—

RAVEN

No, we can’t go home! I need to do

this tonight. Will you stop worrying?

God, I hate this music!

She neatly lifts one of her boots and plants it in the stereo. The headlights flicker momentarily and yellow sparks sputter from the dashboard as the music cuts out.

TOM

Hey! Don’t do that!

RAVEN

So what? We’re all going to hell.

Turn here. Cut the lights.

EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT

Tom turns down a blind alley and shuts off the headlights. He eases to a stop along the wall, just inside the alley. At the end is a single metal door and a large black Cadillac. Tom shuts off the engine.

RAVEN

Stay here.

TOM

Are you sure you can do this?

RAVEN

(checking herself in the mirror)

Abso-motherfuckin-lutely. Can you

see all right from here?

TOM

Yeah. Just be careful.

RAVEN

Baby, you worry too much. Kiss for

good luck?

He leans in and gives her a small peck, but she throws her arms around him and drags him down out of sight. They resurface a second later.

RAVEN

Here goes nada.

She hops out of the car.

TOM

Be careful…

She puts a finger to her lips as she walks over and crouches on the near side of the dumpster. She bends down and removes a pistol from her boot. Tom ducks down but watches through the steering wheel, waiting in breathless anticipation.

TOM

Here we go…

Raven presses her back against the dumpster, waiting patiently. At the end of the alley, a door swings open, spilling yellow light into the alley. Raven looks at Tom, winks theatrically, and then swings around, leveling her pistol at the door.

Raven gets off one shot, and the figure that now stands in the doorway ducks. Her second shot hits, and the yellow light is turned orange by an impressive spray of red. The figure falls. Tom gasps, fascinated.

Suddenly, the light bulb inside the door shatters as another shot is heard. An arm with a gun swings into the doorway, starting firing blind. Raven jumps back behind the dumpster as shots spark off it, making it ring like a bell. Raven ducks down, waits a few seconds, and swings out again.

She fires at her target, who has cautiously stepped out into the alley. He dives for a nearby pile of trash bags that bounce as Raven’s shots hit them.

Raven’s gun clicks.

She ducks back behind the dumpster. Tom watches in horror as she sets her gun down on the ground, bends to her boot again. Meanwhile, her target has heard the click. He starts running toward the dumpster, jumping up on some boxes and then onto the top of the dumpster itself.

He jumps down just as Raven stands and turns around. They collide. The two stagger as if performing a ballet leap, then slam down on the hood of the car Tom is in, the man pinning Raven’s head under his midsection. Neither moves.

Tom jumps out of the car and runs around to them. Blood is spreading quickly, running down the hood and grill in sheets, but we can’t tell whose it is. Tom rolls the man off Raven and we can see what has happened. By jumping on her, the man has effectively gutted himself on the switchblade Raven had just pulled from her boot, which skitters away across the pavement.

Raven now lies across the hood, covered in blood, which steams softly in the moonlight. Her eyes flutter open for a second.

RAVEN’S POV

The moon, high above, bloated red and dripping. Her eyes close.

EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT

TOM

Oh, Jesus…

Tom picks up the blade, closes it, and puts it in his pocket. Then he picks up Raven, bends his ear to her mouth. He manages to open the rear door and tries to prop her up there. She only slumps to the side, the back of her head leaving a wide smear of blood across the white upholstery.

Now also covered in blood, Tom gets back in the driver’s seat and sits there for a moment. Bells are chiming in the distance. Although he’s sweating, his breath plumes in front of him, and he shivers.

He looks up, into the rearview mirror, but can’t see Raven. He reaches down, turns the key in the ignition.

The car sputters, the interior light flickers, but it won’t turn over. A thin wisp of smoke starts to rise from the remains of the stereo. He slams one fist against the steering wheel.

TOM

Shit!

Flecks of blood from his hand spray across the inside of the windshield. He sits back, starting to panic, but manages to get a grip on himself.

He turns the key again, and again the car will not start. He repeatedly beats his fists against the steering wheel, flinging more blood.

TOM

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!

SYZYGY - 2

EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT

The door to the roof of a tall downtown office building opens. Raven strides out, a little off-balance but still steady, followed closely by Tom.

TOM

A meteorologist? An air conditioning

unit repairperson?

She doesn’t respond, just keeps walking toward the edge of the roof. When she gets there, she stops and picks up a large briefcase that is sitting there. She drops to her haunches in front of it and pops open the latches.

Inside, black foam padding holds several long tubes of metal.

TOM

You’re a plumber?

RAVEN

Let’s see how long it takes for

you to figure this out.

She starts taking tubes out from the case and hooks them together. Tom doesn’t realize what she’s doing until she attaches a rifle scope to it.

TOM

Now, hold on a minute.

Raven doesn’t look up from her work, but points at the building across the street.

RAVEN

Fourth floor down, seventh window

from the right.

Tom looks from the building to her and back, unsure, but quickly counts off the windows. He can just barely make out someone seated at a desk in one of the few lit windows left.

TOM

I… I can’t let you do this.

Raven has finished her rifle. She flips the butt of it up to her shoulder in a practiced move, and kneels, taking aim on the window.

RAVEN

You think this is wrong?

TOM

I know it’s wrong. Don’t!

RAVEN

Well, see, here’s where the ethical

dilemma comes in. In fact, Mr.

Crosshairs over there isn’t just

upper management. In his spare time

he runs a prostitution ring.

TOM

A what?

RAVEN

Not just any ring either. They

specialize in young girls. Now

what do you think? I know what I’m

talking about. The reason I’ve been

down here the last few days because

I’ve been setting this up.

TOM

Hold on just a minute, okay?

RAVEN

A minute? Give me a single reason

why I should let this fuck live for

another minute. You can leave, you

know. Just go back down the stairs

and go home to your comfortable

little bed. Just do one thing for

me first.

TOM

(numb)

What?

RAVEN

Tell me to do it.

Tom doesn’t speak.

RAVEN

The world will be a better place

tomorrow, I swear. Just tell me…

please.

Her voice cracks. A tear rolls down her cheek.

TOM

Do it.

Instantly, she pulls the trigger, a brief flash of light, a puffing sound, and a barely audible crack of glass. It’s over. Raven drops the rifle and puts her hands over her face, begins to sob.

INT. ELEVATOR

Tom and Raven ride down in silence, both too stunned to say anything. The suitcase rests on the floor directly between them.

RAVEN

I shouldn’t have done that, Tom.

I’m sorry. Why couldn’t you have

sat down two or three drinks later?

Maybe I could have done it without

your help then.

TOM

Don’t apologize… or maybe you

should. I don’t know.

RAVEN

When we get to the lobby, I’ll give

you a five minute head start. Security

probably won’t stop me. Even though

I didn’t have a briefcase when I

came in…

TOM

What you said about him was true,

wasn’t it?

Raven starts to cry again, silently. Tom looks at her, makes up his mind. He bends down and picks up the suitcase by the handle. She’s genuinely shocked. He looks just like any other businessman with a briefcase. She leans forward and kisses him lightly on the lips.

RAVEN

Thank you.

TOM

Now, can I choose what we do next?

INT. TOM’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Raven sits on Tom’s couch, clad in flannel pajamas. She’s wiping away the last of her tears and studying the large fluffy slippers she’s wearing, designed to look like bear paws. She can’t help but smile as she looks at them. A distant bell dings.

TOM

(offscreen)

Finally!

A few moments later, Tom comes into the room, also dressed in flannel pajamas, carrying a large bowl of popcorn. He flops down next to her.

TOM

And has the lady made her selection?

Raven hands him a DVD cover.

RAVEN

It took me a while. Do you have

any idea how many movies you own?

TOM

(looking at the cover)

Just over three hundred. Ah,

an excellent choice! Here.

He hands her the popcorn, and sits down next to her. He taps the remote. The studio logo fanfare and dramatic opening theme plays offscreen as they talk.

RAVEN

Tonight’s not the first time I’ve

done this.

TOM

What, watched a movie?

RAVEN

You know what I mean. This is what

I have to do right now. I really

don’t have a choice.

(starting to have difficulty speaking)

There are men… men who… when I used to…

TOM

(gently)

Shh. Shh. Raven, tonight was the

first time in I don’t know how

long that I didn’t come home and

let someone on this screen--

(points to TV)

--have adventures instead of me. I’m

not judging you. You did the right

thing, right?

Raven nods, unsure of what to make of his reaction.

TOM

I think so too. You did what you

had to. Now you can relax. Nothing’s

going to happen to you here.

She doesn’t know what to say, and he doesn’t expect anything from her. Finally they lean forward and their lips meet in a kiss that just gets more and more intense.

SYZYGY - 1

FADE IN:

INT. CAR - ALLEY - NIGHT

A white man in his late twenties sits behind the wheel of an expensive automobile. His name is TOM WHITE. Bells are chiming in the distance. Although he’s sweating, his breath plumes in front of him, and he shivers.

He looks up, into the rearview mirror, and sees into the back seat, where a wide streak of blood has swiped across the upholstery. He reaches down, turns the key in the ignition.

The car sputters, the interior light flickers, but it won’t turn over. A thin wisp of smoke starts to rise from somewhere next to him. He slams one fist against the steering wheel.

TOM

Shit!

Flecks of blood from his hand spray across the inside of the windshield. He sits back, starting to panic, but manages to get a grip on himself.

He turns the key again, and again the car will not start. He repeatedly beats his fists against the steering wheel, flinging more blood.

TOM

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!

All at once, he stops. A muffled groan comes from somewhere. Tom’s head whips around to the back seat, looks at something there, then stretches his neck and looks down across the hood of the car, which has a huge blood-splash across it.

EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT

Tom steps out of the car slowly, as if trying not to make too much noise. He inches around to the front of the car.

Lying in front of it is a man in a trenchcoat. He lies absolutely still, facing away from Tom. His chest and stomach, though unseen, are sending steam up into the night air.

After looking at him for a second, Tom turns back to the car, walks to the rear door on the driver’s side. Lying across the back seat is a Native American woman, almost the same age as Tom. She would be very attractive if she weren’t completely covered in blood.

Her long black hair is soaked with it, and it leaves more streaks on the upholstery as Tom gently pulls her out. He gathers her in his arms, his eyes wide with horror. Then he turns and starts walking out of the alley, gaining speed until he is almost running.

INT. OFFICE - EVENING

Subtitle: THREE WEEKS EARLIER

The camera glides down one of many long rows of cubicles. Most of the lights have been switched off, but we can still hear some keyboard tapping somewhere nearby.

Eventually we find Tom in his cubicle, wearily hunched over his computer. He hits a few final keys with a flourish, then shuts down. He rolls his head, and we can hear his neck crack. He stretches, stands, and gathers up his coat.

He looks around, and for the first time notices that he’s alone in the office. He heads for the exit, leaving behind his briefcase on the desk.

INT. OFFICE BUILDING - LOBBY - EVENING

The elevator doors open and Tom steps out. The only person around is the evening SECURITY GUARD, seated behind a desk.

SECURITY GUARD

Good night, Mr. White.

TOM

Thanks. You too. But I’m not going

home just yet.

SECURITY GUARD

Can’t say I blame you. Take it easy.

Instead of going through the main front doors, Tom heads for a plain door just off the lobby. He goes through it and down the flight of stairs beyond.

INT. PURGATORY CLUB

Above a small dance floor that is currently filled with people, most of them in business suits, a neon sign flashes PURGATORY in time with thudding dance beats.

Tom is sitting at the end of the bar, looking across at the Native American woman, who is quite striking when she’s conscious. She doesn’t see him, but sips a drink and stares off into space. He doesn’t know it yet, but her name is RAVEN AIRHEART.

Tom eventually stands and walks over to her.

TOM

Excuse me.

She doesn’t respond.

TOM

I couldn’t figure out from over

there what it was that you’re

drinking.

She sets down the glass, and he sees that in the green liquid two plastic eyeballs are floating.

RAVEN

It’s called Here’s Looking at You.

TOM

May I?

He motions to the stool next to her. She shrugs, and he sits.

TOM

I’ve noticed you here the last

few nights. Are you between work

and the subway like the rest of us?

RAVEN

Not really. You’re one of the ledger-

heads then?

TOM

Not proud of it, but yes. Twenty-

three floors straight up. Do you

work in the building too?

RAVEN

Today I do.

TOM

Then there’s no reason we shouldn’t

get acquainted.

(extends his hand)

Tom White. I know, the name, the job.

I swear I’m not as boring as I sound.

Raven shakes it.

RAVEN

Nothing wrong with that. Raven Airheart.

TOM

Wow… great name.

RAVEN

Thanks. I used to be an accountant

too. It changed my life.

TOM

Really? Hard to imagine…

(trying to elicit an explanation)

So you used to be an accountant but…

RAVEN

Yes. But.

She’s clearly not going to give up information easily. Tom tries another tactic.

TOM

So you know what it’s like then.

RAVEN

There are worse jobs to have.

TOM

This should be good. Like what?

RAVEN

One that would make an otherwise

rational woman get herself half-

drunk before going to.

TOM

Are you saying that you’re on your

way to work now?

RAVEN

Mm-hm. I’m your average damsel in

disgust.

TOM

You’re breaking my heart. So what

is it?

RAVEN

Never mind.

TOM

No no, my curiosity it piqued now.

What is this job from hell that you’re

on your way to?

RAVEN

Exactly.

TOM

You’re not scaring me, you know.

Raven takes a long drink, then a long hard look at him.

RAVEN

I should do it. I should yank you

right out of that comfortable world

you’re in. You don’t even know how

good you have it anyway.

TOM

(leaning in close)

Maybe you should.

SYZYGY - Introduction

I had dreams of being a great filmmaker once. I studied film at the University of Michigan, and saw the beginning of the independent film revolution of the 90's, when it seemed like anyone with a good script and a keen visual sense could become the next Tarantino. Even if it never really worked that way, that's how it felt then.

This script was my first attempt at an original movie. I wrote it mostly while at work at the Borders warehouse on Airport Road from about 1994 to 1996. I was working the evening shift from 3-10 pm, and got into enough of a pattern with my work that I was able to do it while thinking about other things. So I began to write about a Native American hitwoman named Amelia Airheart, whose husband had just run off with her latest potential victim. I didn't really have a story until two other ideas collided with mine and seemed to make something new.

The first was the music of Tom Waits. I had been listening to him for a year or two and was working my way through his back catalog, and had arrived at his 1992 album Bone Machine. I was struck by the nightmarish imagery in his lyrics, especially those of the first track, “Earth Died Screaming”. The song is basically a list of apocalyptic portents… things such as “There was thunder, there was lightning, then the stars went out, and the moon fell from the sky . . . Crows as big as airplanes... The locusts take the sky... And the Earth died screaming while I lay dreaming of you”. I wanted to somehow work each of his word images into the script, turning my script into a bizarre kind of quest story, with the end of the world occurring when the hunter and the hunted both reached the ocean. I had an image of Amelia slowly walking into the sea while it roiled, and a storm with impossible colors sliding over the land like a black ceiling that broke the sky in two. Amelia’s Judgment Day (how she acts when finally able to choose whether or not she is going to kill her quarry) and the Earth’s Judgment Day would arrive at the exact same moment. Maybe a little too ambitious . . . but a lot of the character names are based on Waits' music in one way or another.

The second bit of inspiration came from an attempted short story called "Wreck", about a man who has a terrible near-death accident and becomes gifted with a new kind of sight, seeing the world as a twisted, haunted place. These images became Raven’s past, as well as part of the nightmare she has halfway through the script. Starting from the middle (The Lamplighter scenes) and then inching my way forward and back at the same time, I worked on the script off and on for years, knowing that it had inherent problems in it but still interested in the characters and the story. Over Thanksgiving vacation in 1999, I sat down on a few quiet evenings in Alabama, after everyone had gone to bed, and tried to figure out once and for all what this story really was about. I decided that it really was about the personal redemption of the hitwoman (whose name had changed to Raven Airheart in keeping with the aerial theme) and the force she was fighting against that was something more than human… something like chaos itself coming to get her. The ideas of Chaos and Order became the character of Moloch and the syzygys, respectively. The result is a seemingly typical hit-man story that takes a Lynchian turn into the really bizarre.

I submitted the script into the first Project Greenlight contest for screenwriters in late 2000, which gave me the impetus to "finish" it and register it with both the Copyright Office and the Writer’s Guild. I didn’t get past the first round of cuts, but I got positive reviews from about half the fellow screenwriters who judged it. It's my first really big finished work, and I feel proud of it.

I would assume that, if it were to be produced, the resulting film would have an R rating, for violence and language.