film script study
the banquet salon of a cruise ship, dozens of party people dine and
food is incredibly luxurious, rivers of champagne.
livery waiters serve the party people, with large trays and dishes,
bringing abundant and highly ornated food. The party people are
dressed in lavish suits and dresses, they receive the dishes and
trays with great boisterousness, laughing and talking very loud.
the table on one side, with two well dressed and good looking, amused
young men, is a woman in her fifties, MADAME EDWIGE NILSSON, whose
frown contrasts with the party ambience, her dish is empty and she's
waiting to be served.
vague dialogue of the young lads by her sides, is muffled by the loud
talk and the party music, but we understand she has already refused a
few dishes that were brought to her.
waiter, another good looking young man, places in front of Madame
Edwige a big Thermidor lobster. Madame looks at the lobster with
despise, gives a scornful stare at the waiter, and demands a filet
mignon, with no manners to her high position, like a dictator.
waiter almost can't hide his perplexity facing the petulant Madame,
and obeys while the lads by her sides laugh very loud.
Madame gets up from the table, charmingly excuses herself to the
lads, and leaves the banquet room.
Edwige walks through the corridor of the ship that leads to her
cabin, the corridor is empty. She makes sure there's no one around
and the other cabins are shut. Opens the door to her cabin, goes in,
and soon goes out again in a moment, dragging through the floor, a
human life sized bundle, a human being tied up and wrapped in a
bedsheet, who moves a bit and emits low moans, likely gagged inside
Edwige drags the bundle behind her, worse than a potato bag, drags it
over the stairs that take to the ship's deck. Arriving up there,
looks around, and the deck is empty of people. Drags the bundle to
the deck's edge, lifts it up with some difficulty, and hurls it into
the cold waves of the sea.
even looking back at the waters, turns her back and returns to the
beach is cold and deserted, only the wind shakes the reeds here and
troop of 4 military men, in heavy duty black uniforms, helmets with
lanterns and heavy precision machine guns at their backs, patrols the
beach, walking from side to side.
are under the glance of a man, in his mid 50's, also a military, the
wind caresses his silver hair, the beam from the lighthouse, each
time it spins, alights his face, we see his clear eyes, the hand
holding a rosary, his lips slowly murmur a prayer, the US Special
Forces insignia 'De Opresso Liber' – 'To free the oppressed' at the
left of his jacket collar.
looks towards the waves, that break upon the coast. He seems to be
sea waves are cold, icy.
decomposed wood log floats at the surface, atop the waves, being
thrown forwards, towards the coast. On the log are grasped two hands,
the hands belong to two arms, and the arms belong to YRMENSULE WEHR,
a girl of 13, the daughter of Madame Edwige, who she hurled into the
log rolls in the waves and Yrmensule's feet can reach the bottom sand
now, lets the log go, with all her strenght gains balance and gets up
in the sand, with water to her chest, and looks ahead, towards the
beach, where the 4 weaponized soldiers walk from side to side and the
Captain keeps watch in the shadows.
swims with cold and difficulty in the icy water, the waves push her
towards the sand. She hasn't been seen yet by the troop. A last wave
covers her body, she falls down on the sand, and gets up, coughing a
lot, spitting salt water.
cough alerts the troop, the Captain looks ahead, doesn't move.
soldiers turn to where the sound came, and all point their machine
guns to Yrmensule.
awaiting the Captain's orders, they look to eachother, and each
walks, slowly, weapons aimed forwards, towards where Yrmensule is in
the sand, on her knees, the tears became invisible under so much salt
four soldiers stop in a half circle facing the girl, weapons aimed at
her, the helmet lanterns hurt her eyes and she raises her arms,
without being told to, but to cover her face and avoid the light
hurting her eyes. She's shaking with cold.
the shadows, the Captain observes.
four soldiers keep their weapons aimed at the girl.
Captain gets up from the shadows and walks through the sand in great
steps, stops in the middle of the soldiers, looks from above. Makes
an arms gesture to the soldiers to step back.
just a child. Leave her with me.
soldiers step back, weapons still aimed. The Captain looks back, and
makes a gesture for them to put the weapons down, to which they obey.
removes her hands from her eyes, keeps her arms slightly up.
Captain gets down, his boots sunken in the wet sand, his head at the
level of knelt Yrmensule's.
stare into eachother for a long quiet moment, behind her, the wild
roar of the cold sea.
face shows despair, a broken heart, fear, terror.
that long moment, the Captain only looks to her calm, with understanding and trustful expression.
Were you cast away?
nods affirmatively with her head and sad eyes.
is your mother?
waves to the sides, 'no', with her head, looks to the sea at her
back, covers her face with both hands, hides a face of agony.
Captain looks to the soldiers, dismisses them.
off his heavy uniform jacket, places it carefully atop the girl's
shoulders, who wraps herself in the jacket still warm from his body,
sighs in relief, looks to the Captain with gratitude in her face.
your mother now.
Captain raises Yrmensule up in his arms, very lovingly. She grabs to him. He takes her in arms
through the beach, till they become unseen, into the shadows.
alchemical meditations and perspectives on the mountain of broken hands
before sunrise, atop the gorge, the dam opened and the river flooded immensely, running through the low margins in strong streams taking everything ahead in its way.
the morning sun lightly touched my dead body, still warm, about to harden. the water was coming fast and carried my body in the flow.
I was dead countless times near this river, in the margins. I was carried through the waters, I know what awaits me, and joyfully my dead body gets carried by the mighty river, cold and hard now, day after day, in slow decay.as the river courses, the water streams lick my body from its skin, flesh, muscles, nerves.at some point, at the great curve of the river, I'm a unified gathering of polished bones.
ahead is a great mountain, blacker than blackest black, that nothing can split in half.
and I'm dead in the water and my flesh is all gone and my bones glow and sing loud in glory of what I brought from life and my skull grins and laughs and my bones swim powerfully in the stream, that with the rapids of the curve became faster, and it's me who throws her skeleton ahead, instead of taking left or right on the Y diversion of the river in face of the mountain, I hurl my bones into the unbreakable mountain.
the mountain is called mountain of the broken hands, as my bones touch the mountain it immediately splits in half as cut in the middle by an invisible giant blade. it crombles to the sides and disappears gradually, washed away by the river.
with the crombling of the debris, my skeleton gets smashed and gashed, scattered in fragments in a long plain of shallow water where tall legged birds abound in flocks. one of them, with his beak, slow and patient gathers the fragments of my bones to the sandy shore, one by one.my reunified skeleton rests in the sand, accompanied by this beautiful bird, bathed in the sunlight by day, exposed to the elements.
I can wait for the return of my flesh as long as this soul and mine are always present.
woke, under the vast sky, her body feeling let loose and soft, down
on the ground. The ground where she slept was covered in a great
round mass of one only piece of soft white fur, with small black
spots here and there. There, somewhat near her, he was waking up too,
and felt so cosy on the furs it was slow to open his eyes, vaguely
seeing her. "Ah", she felt, and threw herself into the soft
matter and went back to sleep. He curled up and did the same.
woke, and got up, and looked around, the extension of fur around
them, and the ground past.
down, and she slept.
stood, for a while, then lost his heart and reason and threw himself
down, killing her.
next hours he was completely insane and out of himself, tearing the
large fur with his teeth and hands, running awry, screaming.
fell asleep, weeping, atop her sacrificed remains.
woke, living, in the vast extension of fur, intact.
and he slept.
kept herself where she was, then got up.
her heart and reason and threw herself down, killing him.
next hours she was completely insane and out of herself, cutting
through the fur with teeth and nails, tearing her own flesh with her
fell asleep, weeping, atop his sacrificed remains.
woke, and listened.
the quiet morning, before sunrise, with eyes closed but awake, they
were perceiving and understanding each other.
smiled, didn't moved or opened their eyes.
woke, and looked around, and saw eachother.
the quiet morning, through the sunrise, they observed eachother
smiled, didn't moved from where they were.
slept, and dreamed, in the dream they moved through the fur like
swimming in fresh waters...
collided into eachother and mingled arms and legs and bellies and
chests and then were quiet.
enveloped in eachother.
they didn't moved.
woke on the naked earth, naked, opening their eyes at the same time.
saw eachother and stayed quiet, observing, into trance.
she looked to him, his eyes...and face, the shoulders and chest, and
what's that on - or from - his belly - that she saw...
was also quiet, seeing her, and seeing the one and intact mutual
umbilical cord that united her to him, her belly to his, the center
to the other center, in one bridge of living flesh and blood between
both. They beheld eachother quietly, not moving, understanding.
cannot write on what happened on the eighth day. Mistery. Laus
inside a space, a large room, the walls are solid stone, all is stone
shadowy inside, silent, and I'm alone, and it echoes.
dressed in solid black, severe, androgyne and neutral,
head is the clearest crystal stone from which the Graal was scvlpted.
front of me, there's a very, very, large, block of stone,
occupies the end part of the large room,
can't describe it, besides having inscriptions.
take notes of them, it's a code, and I decode it.
walk around, think, rethink, think some more, look to the stone,
a few more circles around the room,
Think, rethink, then go sit by
the stone, my back to it.
start remembering I've spent not one day or month, but decades
before, in this room,
I was trying to encase my skull within that stone perfectly and
there, sitting by it, looking to the paper in my hand with my notes,
code of the inscription on the stone decodes to [
S I G I L L A T E D ]
didn't encased my skull in the stone,
there, and where I really am there, is, I'm inside the stone,
me is inside the stone,
marrow pulses inside the stone,
bones sing inside the stone,
nerves cry of relief inside the stone,
flesh pulses inside the stone,
heart beats inside the stone,
blood runs inside the stone,
thought radiates inside the stone,
soul is alive inside the stone.
I'm encased in absolute perfection within that stone.
this large room of stone walls, lit on one side by the great window,
the opposite side there's the immense block of stone,
the coded inscription.
placed a ladder aside and made my bed upon the stone,
a mantle of white dotted rabbit furs atop,
myself on it, face down, to sleep.
the shadows, the moonlight bathes the room,
light approaches the block of stone
I lay asleep, androgyne.
the shadows, he muses,
my hair is womanly, but my lips are pale,
That my shapes are womanly,
too sharp, too male,
my chest dove-like, as the Landsknecht who bares his own
To the blood
pact with his Frater?
are my small breasts only heavily covered by the black fabric?
I wake to the solar light,
my eyes are woman, not a man's;
should I be approached,
blood, like a curved blade arrowfied in thin air,
be then live in the perception, and thus,
the shadows, upon the vast firmament,
solar and lunar light,
TO THE OPEN SKY
the Wûlkh, the fantastic alchemical bird, of completely blue-black back, completely white breast and belly, two-headed, clear eyed, several meters wide wingspan, gliding bolt fast inbetween the clouds in the skies, until then, never to come land to a human; impossible
the white buffalo, the fastest, youngest female, running through the plains, until then, never let one mount her through the plains, running fast ahead all others; impossible
the most robust, youngest female trout who jumped through the surface and faced the strong stream of the river upwards instead, and faster than any salmon swam upwards the current, against the stream, leaving all others behind, until then, no other trout done so; impossible
the alchemical phoenix lives in the fire, the good and benign flames you behold when you light a fire to warm you, within them, she is constantly reborn and rising and living and self creating, self devastating, in ignition constant, until then, rarely if ever one could behold a true miracle, lest their heart is pure a plenty to know how true it is..
the blackest earth in the ground, which you behold from above, feel in your hand as you dig through the soil, under your feet, deeply humid, fresh, its grains in your hand, its scent under the sun or in the rain, full of life and life's promise,
i'm that earth