A twist in the road is that, before I could get to that end, I needed an additional stepping stone to fill in and supply material necessary for the finale. That stepping stone, a third installment of the Predator franchise titled 'Predators and Prey' and the finale itself, titled 'Alien Revelation' were, understandably, ignored out of hand when I attempted to present them to the appropriate production houses. A nobody such as me cannot mess with their licensed materials. Of course I knew that going in but, come on, this is art, and I'm an artist (smiley face here).
A cornerstone tenet of good storytelling is that the resolution - whether happy or sad, expected or surprising - must prove satisfying to the listener, the reader, or in this case, the viewer. As a rabid fan of the suspense/horror movie that is ALIEN, and the action/thriller that is Aliens, I was left underwhelmed and
totally dissatisfied with the image of a cloned hybrid human/Alien Ripley and a pixie-esque Second Gen android gazing dewy-eyed and wistfully out of the Betty's window at fluffy, white clouds whipping by at the conclusion of Resurrection. And as far as Predator 2 goes, a workmanlike Danny Glover gruffly prophesized that the human bad guys would "get another chance" to capture a Predator. Well, they never did get that chance. The linear storylines of both franchises were over.
So as any true, delusional fan should, I decided it was up to me to gather all the enticing threads from all six films, another from AVP, create a few of my own, and braid them together. One ponytail of satisfaction coming right up.
...to be followed by the aforementioned rejection and the years of dust-gathering languishment on my bookshelf.
And so now here we are, thirty-two years after the initial release of ALIEN, and we await the mystery and majesty that is to be the ALIEN universe prequel(ish) PROMETHEUS, a project so grandiose that it's going to, by all accounts, make us shake in our boots. And do you know something? Considering the team creating it and the man directing it, it has a very good chance of doing precisely that.
So before this coming historical history can plant any seeds that might nullify the validity of my future history I've made the big "What The Hell" decision to create this outlet for my two scripts. They may not stack up to the scope of PROMETHEUS, since I have attempted to stay true to the gritty action realism of the already established franchises.
I concede that this may be considered simply a vanity project. But, for what it's worth, I have put the time in, and I would like someone - fans, hopefully - to see the work and be entertained by the 'what if'. They are not simple "Run away! Run away!" stories, but rather tales that attempt to actually expand on, and give additional dimension to, the characters of both the Aliens and the Predators.
The only feedback I am actually hoping for is to know that they have been read. I don't really want to enter into any debates of accuracy etc. or screenplay mechanics. I'll admit upfront that I'm no professional, simply an enthusiastic student of the art.
Well the rambler has rambled. I should get out now and get down to business.
Beginning with Predators and Prey, I'll present a number of pages a day. Being an old techno-phobe I have no idea how much would be too much for an individual post to present.
And so here we go...
Adhering to the most basic rule of storytelling, we ask "what if?"
"What If We Found The Original Predator's Dropship?"
PREDATORS and PREY
a screenplay
by
hugh brownlie
inspired by characters
created by
jim thomas and john thomas
September 2002
PREDATORS and PREY (Pg.1)
FADE IN
BLANK SCREEN
where we HOLD for two or three BEATS under the SOUNDS of men hollering, birds cawing wildly, great machines roaring and rattling, wood cracking. And suddenly...
EXT. CENTRAL AMERICAN JUNGLE - DAY
A huge tree CRASHES towards CAMERA. The bird screeching reaches a new pitch while the debris and dust settle. BEHIND and BEYOND the felled giant we SEE the bush clearing squad moving in. Earth movers, dump trucks. Hard hatted gringos yelling out orders: the workers are mostly asalariados - cheap local labour.
CLOSE ON ONE GROUP
Manfully hacking away with machetes at the lesser brush missed by the passage of one of the huge machines.
One of the asalariados decides that it is time to relieve himself. Pushing a little further into the thick ground cover he drops his pants and squats. He YELPS and jumps upright, favouring his backside. Turning and investigating, he finds the tip of a sharp metallic spike amongst the thatch. Digging further and following it down, he eventually is stopped by a hard, dull surface. Clearing a hand-sized area, he places his palm flat on the object. He frowns. We now begin to HEAR a very low BUZZING sound.
The worker lowers his head and places his ear to the surface. As he does so we HEAR a PULSATING HUM. It grows LOUDER. The worker's eyes open wide.
CREDITS BEGIN
EXT. UPSCALE HOME, McLEAN , VIRGINIA
A summer drizzle is falling. At the front entrance U.S.
CAPTAIN (retired) MICHAEL “MITCH” OMURA, 37, dressed in full military uniform, kisses his wife, CAROL, goodbye. A native Hawaiian, Omura is a big man, muscular above the norm. But
Pg. 2
he walks stiffly with the aid of a cane.
Halfway down the path he is met by another military figure, LIEUTENANT ROBERT ‘BOBBY’ MESSINA
EXT. ON THE LIMO
as it drives through the relatively quiet streets between McLean and ARLINGTON
EXT. ARLINGTON NATIONAL CEMETERY
The limo arrives at the National Cemetery
EXT. IN THE CEMETERY - MINUTES LATER
Parked in a quiet corner of the cemetery the limo waits...as does Messina
Omura looks at the second plaque. The engraving there reads: MAJOR ALAN ‘DUTCH’ SCHAEFER. 1948 – 1998. PROUD TO REST BESIDE HEROES.
CLOSE ON OMURA
OMURA
(softly)
Rest easy, Dutch. And if you check in on
us from time to time…
(a beat)
It’s tough, Dutch. Carol and I are doing
our best, but…
(trails off)
Maybe it’s better you don’t check in. That
way you don’t find out about this.
(taps his right leg)
Omura’s thoughts are broken when a second car approaches. He turns and looks down the hill.
Pg. 3
HIS POV
of three FIGURES - one MILITARY, two black-suited AGENT TYPES - who get out and confer with Messina
RESUME SCENE
(excited)
Mitch. They've found something. In the
jungle. They think it's a landing craft.
An alien landing craft.
(nods at Schaefer’s
plaque)
Schaefer’s alien.
Omura says nothing, but his face runs the gamut of emotions, showing, perhaps, even the traces of a vicarious fear. He glances back at the first plaque, and we SEE the names...
OMURA’S POV: CLOSING ON PLAQUE
Hawkins, Blain, Mac, Dillon, Billy, Poncho as FORBIDDING MUSIC swells UP and OFF.
CREDITS END
EXT. THE PENTAGON - NIGHT - ESTABLISH
INT. THE PENTAGON - NIGHT
Accompanied by the soldier and the two agents, Omura and
where they meet ALBERT HINDMAN M.D. In his late sixties he is squat and rumpled, but there is something of the mischievous imp in his demeanor, and he is clearly excited.
He greets Omura warmly, grasping his hand vigorously: cordial to Messina
HINDMAN
Good to see you, Michael. Good to see
you, my boy.
OMURA
(grinning)
Albert. You're hurting my hand.
Feigning chagrined shock, Hindman releases Omura's hand.
Pg. 4
HINDMAN
So sorry, my boy. So sorry.
(to Messina
Lieutenant Messina. You're looking fit.
Doctor.
HINDMAN
So how's retirement treating you, Michael?
I hope it's not too boring at THE BORDEN FOUNDATION, being just an advisor to the
military now?
OMURA
You always ask me that, Albert. It's the same
line you’d throw at Dutch when I was his aide. You didn't even know me when I was in the field. Now, what you got? The CIA boys say something's been found.
It's a downed U.F.O., right?
HINDMAN
(suddenly reticent)
There's so much to tell you, that is,
it's really quite...
OMURA
Albert. Is it the ship?
HINDMAN
(almost reluctant)
Yes.
CU on Omura's reaction to the news. His eyes close tightly.
RAPID MONTAGE
We SEE the face of a ROARING PREDATOR, sans helmet, flash ON SCREEN. Next an inverted, flayed HUMAN SKULL. We HEAR a rapid human heartbeat. We HEAR a blood-curdling scream. We SEE the white light of a violent explosion.
CU on Omura. His eyes snap open.
WIDER ANGLE
Omura grasps his right leg, sways, drops his cane. Messina
Pg. 5
grabs him, lowers him into a chair.
Easy, Mitch. I gotcha.
Hindman takes two steps forward.
HINDMAN
(concerned)
Michael, my boy. I had no idea it had
gotten so bad. You’ve never said.
OMURA
(quiet venom)
Damn fate. Damn life. Like a jigsaw
puzzle with each piece dropping in,
whether you like it or not, till the
picture’s done.
Hey, take it easy, Mitch. You’re
talking crazy. A lot of guys live with
shrapnel. Some can’t even move. Yours
damaged a nerve in your spine, but at
least you’re still mobile.
Omura composes himself.
OMURA
It’s not shrapnel, Bobby.
(confused)
What? Sure it is. I’ve seen the official
report from the Libyan suicide attack in
’98. Dutch managed to get between you and
that nailbomb-totin’ bastard at the peace
summit. Took most of the blast himself.
You dragged him out, pretty banged up
yourself, but there was nothing the medics
could do for him. Shrapnel lodged in your
spine. End of story.
Omura shakes his head.
OMURA
No cigar, Bobby. I did drag Dutch out,
but there was no shrapnel. Dutch didn’t
know it, but he was “carrying” something.
In his blood. I was cut up. There was a
Pg. 6
blood to blood transfer.
OMURA
Why do you think I’ve been contacted?
Because I know every single detail of
Dutch’s encounter? There’s that, but
I’m even closer.
(to Hindman)
Albert. Tell him.
Hindman takes a moment. Paces away a few steps. Turns back.
HINDMAN
We know from Alan’s report that the alien
chose to engage him in hand-to-hand
combat. We suspect that the mechanical
claws excreted a sort of neuro-toxin, much
like certain poisonous shakes possess,
which attacks the nervous system and
causes paralysis. This, though, appears
to be a synthetic concoction. Totally,
well, alien. Multiple modes of transfer.
There were several lacerations on Alan’s
back and legs.
Multiple transfer? Blood-to-blood and,
what, airborne?
HINDMAN
We doubt that.
So. . .?
OMURA
(to Hindman)
Tell him about Madeleine.
(aghast)
Madeleine?
HINDMAN
(nods slowly)
It seems that Alan’s, um, reproductive
process was corrupted. Through conception,
Pg. 7
the toxin was passed to his wife and,
through placental transfer, to Madeleine.
We have no idea how. The damn thing hides
better than HIV. It’s the ultimate retro
virus.
Omura has composed himself.
OMURA
When Dutch’s wife died in childbirth, he
was already in over his head. There was
no other close family, so Carol and I
became her full-time “Aunt and Uncle”.
A little later, when Madeleine’s paralysis
became evident, he leaned on Carol more
and more. Then came Libya
(a beat)
When a dying man who just saved your life
asks you to care for his invalid child. . .
you say “Yes”.
He struggles upright, grimacing slightly, and takes his cane from Messina
OMURA
And then this.
(smacks his thigh again)
You see what I mean about life, fate, the
jigsaw?
(puts a hand on Messina
shoulder)
And now we have an alien drop ship.
Jesus.
Omura is in control again. He releases Messina
OMURA
Bring me up to date, Albert.
HINDMAN
A road construction crew found it, just
over a month ago. Our people secured it
and got it to Cancun . It was transferred
to a research vessel off the coast and
the ship has been gathering specialist
Pg. 8
teams en route. Because of my connection
to you and Madeleine, I am part of the
medical team.
OMURA
Why wasn't I told earlier?
HINDMAN
The 'powers that be' wanted to keep a lid
on things until all the teams were
assembled.
OMURA
Who's calling the shots?
HINDMAN
An ADMIRAL STANLEY R. LUCK and C.I.A.
DEPUTY DIRECTOR VICTOR SCHOLLANDER.
It's a joint command designated 'SOLAR
STORM'.
Recovering from the last few minutes, Messina
Solar Storm?
OMURA
(to Messina
Forget the name. Luck I don't know,
but I've met Schollander. Bring some
bug spray.
Gotcha.
HINDMAN
Michael, the main reason you've been
contacted now is that we've found
something: several small vials of serums
and gels which we suspect the alien may
have used to tip his mechanical claws.
One of them bears a genetic fingerprint
resembling the unknown agent found in your
blood.
OMURA
(excited)
A cure?
Pg. 9
Looks good to me.
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