THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION
by
Frank Darabont
Based upon the story
Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption
by Stephen King
1 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...
2 EXT -- CABIN -- NIGHT (1946) 2
...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.
3 INT -- PLYMOUTH -- NIGHT (1946) 3
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:
You stepped out of a dream...
You are too wonderful...
To be what you seem...
He opens the glove compartment, pulls out an object wrapped
in a rag. He lays it in his lap and unwraps it carefully --
-- revealing a .38 revolver. Oily, black, evil.
He grabs a box of bullets. Spills them everywhere, all over
the seats and floor. Clumsy. He picks bullets off his lap,
loading them into the gun, one by one, methodical and grim.
Six in the chamber. His gaze goes back to the bungalow.
He shuts off the radio. Abrupt silence, except for the distant
lovers' moans. He takes another shot of bourbon courage, then
opens the door and steps from the car.
4 EXT -- PLYMOUTH -- NIGHT (1946) 4
His wingtip shoes crunch on gravel. Loose bullets scatter to
the ground. The bourbon bottle drops and shatters.
He starts up the path, unsteady on his feet. The closer he
gets, the louder the lovemaking becomes. Louder and more
frenzied. The lovers are reaching a climax, their sounds of
passion degenerating into rhythmic gasps and grunts.
WOMAN (O.S.)
Oh god...oh god...oh god...
Andy lurches to a stop, listening. The woman cries out in
orgasm. The sound slams into Andy's brain like an icepick. He
shuts his eyes tightly, wishing the sound would stop.
It finally does, dying away like a siren until all that's left
is the shallow gasping and panting of post-coitus. We hear
languorous laughter, moans of satisfaction.
WOMAN (O.S.)
Oh god...that's sooo good...you're
the best...the best I ever had...
Andy just stands and listens, devastated. He doesn't look like
much of a killer now; he's just a sad little man on a dirt
path in the woods, tears streaming down his face, a loaded gun
held loosely at his side. A pathetic figure, really.
FADE TO BLACK: 1ST TITLE UP
5 INT -- COURTROOM -- DAY (1946) 5
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. 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 .38
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.
Yes, you have. Where I get hazy,
though, is the part where the
cleaning woman shows up the next
morning and finds your wife and her
lover in bed, riddled with .38
caliber bullets. Does that strike
you as a fantastic coincidence, Mr.
Dufresne, or is it just me?
ANDY
(softly)
Yes. It does.
D.A.
I'm sorry, Mr. Dufresne, I don't
think the jury heard that.
ANDY
Yes. It does.
D.A.
Does what?
ANDY
Strike me as a fantastic coincidence.
D.A.
On that, sir, we are in accord...
FADE TO BLACK! 4TH TITLE UP
D.A.
You claim you threw your gun into
the Royal River before the murders
took place. That's rather convenient.
ANDY
It's the truth.
D.A.
You recall Lt. Mincher's testimony?
He and his men dragged that river
for three days and nary a gun was
found. So no comparison can be made
between your gun and the bullets
taken from the bloodstained corpses
of the victims. That's also rather
convenient, isn't it, Mr. Dufresne?
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: STH TITLE UP
6 INT -- COURTROOM -- DAY (1946) 6
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.
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.
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. 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
7 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
8 INT -- COURTROOM -- DAY (1946) 8
Andy stands before the dias. 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.
9 AN IRON-BARRED DOOR 9
slides open with an enormous CLANG. A stark room waits beyond.
CAMERA PUSHES through. SEVEN HUMORLESS MEN sit side by side at
a long table. An empty chair faces them. We are now in:
INT -- SHAWSHANK HEARINGS ROOM -- DAY (1947)
RED enters, removes his cap and waits by the chair.
MAN #1
Sit.
Red sits, tries not to slouch. The chair is uncomfortable.
MAN #2
We see by your file you've served
twenty years of a life sentence.
MAN #3
You feel you've been rehabilitated?
RED
Yes, sir. Absolutely. I've learned
my lesson. I can honestly say I'm a
changed man. I'm no longer a danger
to society. That's the God's honest
truth. No doubt about it.
The men just stare at him. One stifles a yawn.
CLOSEUP -- PAROLE FORM
A big rubber stamp slams down: "REJECTED" in red ink.
10 EXT -- EXERCISE YARD -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- DUSK (1947) 10
High stone walls topped with snaky concertina wire, set off at
intervals by looming guard towers. Over a hundred CONS are
in the yard. Playing catch, shooting craps, jawing at each
other, making deals. Exercise period.
RED emerges into fading daylight, slouches low-key through the
activity, worn cap on his head, exchanging hellos and doing
minor business. He's an important man here.
RED (V.O.)
There's a con like me in every prison
in America, I guess. I'm the guy who
can get it for you. 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.)
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.)
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.
11 INT -- PRISON BUS -- DUSK (1947) 11
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.)
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.
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.
13 ON THE BLEACHERS 13
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.
HEYWOOD
Bullshit. I'll take that action.
ERNIE
Me too.
Other hands go up. Red jots the names.
HEYWOOD
You're out some smokes, son. Take
my word.
FLOYD
You're so smart, you call it.
HEYWOOD
I say that chubby fat-ass...let's
see...fifth from the front. Put me
down for a quarter deck.
RED
That's five cigarettes on Fat-Ass.
Any takers?
More hands go up. Andy and the others are paraded along,
forced by their chains to take tiny baby steps, flinching
under the barrage of jeers and shouts. The old-timers are
shaking the fence, trying to make the newcomers shit their
pants. Some of the new fish shout back, but mostly they look
terrified. Especially Andy.
RED (V.O.)
I must admit I didn't think much of
Andy first time I laid eyes on him.
He might'a been important on the
outside, but in here he was just a
little turd in prison grays. Looked
like a stiff breeze could blow him
over. That was my first impression
of the man.
SKEET
What say, Red?
RED
Little fella on the end. Definitely.
I stake half a pack. Any takers?
SNOOZE
Rich bet.
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.
14 INT -- ADMITTING AREA -- DUSK (1947) 14
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
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
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...
15 INT -- INFIRMARY -- NIGHT (1947) 15
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.
16 INT -- PRISON CHAPEL -- NIGHT (1947) 16
CAMERA TRACKS the naked newcomers shivering on hard wooden
chairs, clothes on their laps, Bibles open.
CHAPLAIN (O.S.)
...maketh me to lie down in green
pastures. He leadeth me beside the
still waters. He restoreth my soul...
17 INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- NIGHT (1947) 17
Three tiers to a side, concrete and steel, gray and imposing.
Andy and the others are marched in, still naked, carrying
their clothes and Bibles. The CONS in their cells greet them
with TAUNTS, JEERS, and LAUGHTER. One by one, the new men are
shown to their cells and locked in with a CLANG OF STEEL.
RED (V.O.)
The first night's the toughest, no
doubt about it. They march you in
naked as the day you're born, fresh
from a Bible reading, skin burning
and half-blind from that delousing
shit they throw on you...
Red watches from his cell, arms slung over the crossbars,
cigarette dangling from his fingers.
RED (V.O.)
...and when they put you in that
cell, when those bars slam home,
that's when you know it's for real.
Old life blown away in the blink of
an eye...a long cold season in hell
stretching out ahead...nothing
left but all the time in the world
to think about it.
Red listens to the CLANGING below. He watches Andy and a few
others being brought up to the 2nd tier.
RED (V.O.)
Most new fish come close to madness
the first night. Somebody always
breaks down crying. Happens every
time. The only question is, who's
it gonna be?
Andy is led past and given a cell at the end of the tier.
RED (V.O.)
It's as good a thing to bet on as
any, I guess. I had my money on
Andy Dufresne...
18 INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 18
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...
19 EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- NIGHT (1947) 19
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.
20 INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 20
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.
21 INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- NIGHT (1947) 21
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. 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...
22 INT -- VARIOUS CELLS -- NIGHT (1947) 22
thru thru 25
2g ...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...
26 INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 26
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?
27 INT -- FAT-ASS' CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 27
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!
28 INT -- HEYWOOD'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 28
HEYWOOD
AND IT'S FAT-ASS BY A NOSE.'
29 INT -- CELLBLOCK -- NIGHT (1947) 29
The place goes nuts. Fat-Ass throws himself screaming against
the bars. The entire block starts CHANTING:
VOICES
Fresh fish...fresh fish...fresh
fish...fresh fish...
FAT-ASS
I WANNA GO HOME! I WANT MY MOTHER.'
VOICE (O.S.)
I had your mother! She wasn't that
great!
The lights bump on. GUARDS pour in, led by Hadley himself.
HADLEY
What the Christ is this happy shit?
VOICE (O.S.)
He took the Lord's name in vain!
I'm tellin' the warden!
HADLEY
(to the unseen wit)
You'll be tellin' him with my baton
up your ass!
Hadley arrives at Fat-Ass' cell, bellowing through the bars:
HADLEY
What's your malfunction you fat
fuckin' barrel of monkey-spunk?
FAT-ASS
PLEASE! THIS AIN'T RIGHT! I AIN'T
SUPPOSED TO BE HERE! NOT ME!
HADLEY
I ain't gonna count to three! Not
even to one! Now shut the fuck up
'fore I sing you a lullabye!
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
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.
30 INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 30
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...
31 INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- MORNING (1947) 31
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.
32 INT -- MESS HALL -- MORNING (1947) 32
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
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
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.
HEYWOOD
That's right, send 'em all down. I
wanna see 'em lined up in a row,
pretty as a chorus line.
An impressive pile forms. Heywood bends down and inhales
deeply, smelling the aroma. Rapture.
FLOYD
Smell my ass...
HEYWOOD
Gee, Red. Terrible shame, your
horse comin' in last and all.
Hell, I sure do love that horse of
mine. I believe I owe that boy a
big sloppy kiss when I see him.
RED
Give him some'a your cigarettes
instead, cheap bastard.
HEYWOOD
Say Tyrell, you pull infirmary duty
this week? How's that winnin' horse
of mine, anyway?
TYRELL
Dead.
(the men fall silent)
Hadley busted his head pretty good.
Doc already went home for the
night. Poor bastard lay there till
this morning. By then...
He shakes his head, turns back to his food. The silence
mounts. Heywood glances around. Men resume eating. Softly:
ANDY
What was his name?
HEYWOOD
What? What'd you say?
ANDY
I was wondering if anyone knew his
name.
HEYWOOD
What the fuck you care, new fish?
(resumes eating)
Doesn't matter what his fuckin'
name was. He's dead.
33 INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY -- DAY (1947) 33
A DEAFENING NOISE of industrial washers and presses. Andy works
the laundry line. A nightmarish job. He's new at it. BOB, the
con foreman, elbows him aside and shows him how it's done.
34 INT -- SHOWERS -- DAY (1947) 34
Shower heads mounted in bare concrete. Andy showers with a
dozen or more men. No modesty here. At least the water is good
and hot, soothing his tortured muscles.
Bogs looms from the billowing steam, smiling, checking Andy up
and down. Rooster and PETE appear from the sides. The Sisters.
BOGS
You're some sweet punk. You been
broke in yet?
Andy tries to step past them. He gets shoved around, nothing
serious, just some slap and tickle. Jackals sizing up prey.
BOGS
Hard to get. I like that.
Andy breaks free, flushed and shaking. He hurries off, leaving
the three Sisters laughing.
35 INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 35
Andy lies staring at the darkness, unable to sleep.
36 EXT -- EXERCISE YARD -- DAY (1947) 36
Exercise period. Red plays catch with Heywood and Jigger,
lazily tossing a baseball around. Red notices Andy off to the
side. Nods hello. Andy takes this as a cue to amble over.
Heywood and Jigger pause, watching.
ANDY
(offers his hand)
Hello. I'm Andy Dufresne.
Red glances at the hand, ignores it. The game continues.
RED
The wife-killin' banker.
ANDY
How do you know that?
RED
I keep my ear to the ground. Why'd
you do it?
ANDY
I didn't, since you ask.
RED
Hell, you'll fit right in, then.
(off Andy's look)
Everyone's innocent in here, don't
you know that? Heywood! What are
you in for, boy?
HEYWOOD
Didn't do it! Lawyer fucked me!
Red gives Andy a look. See?
ANDY
What else have you heard?
RED
People say you're a cold fish. They
say you think your shit smells
sweeter than ordinary. That true?
ANDY
What do you think?
RED
Ain't made up my mind yet.
Heywood nudges Jigger. Watch this. He winds up and throws the
ball hard -- right at Andy's head. Andy sees it coming out of
the corner of his eye, whirls and catches it. Beat. He sends
the ball right back, zinging it into Heywood's hands. Heywood
drops the ball and grimaces, wringing his stung hands.
ANDY
I understand you're a man who knows
how to get things.
RED
I'm known to locate certain things
from time to time. They seem to
fall into my hands. Maybe it's
'cause I'm Irish.
ANDY
I wonder if you could get me a
rock-hammer?
RED
What is it and why?
ANDY
You make your customers' motives a
part of your business?
RED
If you wanted a toothbrush, I
wouldn't ask questions. I'd just
quote a price. A toothbrush, see,
is a non-lethal sort of object.
ANDY
Fair enough. A rock-hammer is about
eight or nine inches long. Looks
like a miniature pickaxe, with a
small sharp pick on one end, and a
blunt hammerhead on the other. It's
for rocks.
RED
Rocks.
Andy squats, motions Red to join him. Andy grabs a handful of
dirt and sifts it through his hands. He finds a pebble and
rubs it clean. It has a nice milky glow. He tosses it to Red.
RED
Quartz?
ANDY
Quartz, sure. And look. Mica. Shale.
Silted granite. There's some graded
limestone, from when they cut this
place out of the hill.
RED
So?
ANDY
I'm a rockhound. At least I was, in
my old life. I'd like to be again,
on a limited scale.
RED
Yeah, that or maybe plant your toy
in somebody's skull?
ANDY
I have no enemies here.
RED
No? Just wait.
Red flicks his gaze past Andy. Bogs is watching them.
RED
Word gets around. The Sisters have
taken a real shine to you, yes they
have. Especially Bogs.
ANDY
Tell me something. Would it help if
I explained to them I'm not
homosexual?
RED
Neither are they. You have to be
human first. They don't qualify.
(off Andy's look)
Bull queers take by force, that's
all they want or understand. I'd
grow eyes in the back of my head if
I were you.
ANDY
Thanks for the advice.
RED
That comes free. But you understand
my concern.
ANDY
If there's trouble, I doubt a rock-
hammer will do me any good.
RED
Then I guess you wanna escape.
Tunnel under the wall maybe?
(Andy laughs politely)
I miss the joke. What's so funny?
ANDY
You'll know when you see the rock-
hammer.
RED
What's this item usually go for?
ANDY
Seven dollars in any rock and gem shop.
RED
My standard mark-up's twenty
percent, but we're talkin' about a
special object. Risk goes up, price
goes up. Call it ten bucks even.
ANDY
Ten it is.
RED
I'll see what I can do.
(rises, slapping dust)
But it's a waste of money.
ANDY
Oh?
RED
Folks who run this place love
surprise inspections. They turn a
blind eye to some things, but not
a gadget like that. They'll find
it, and you'll lose it. Mention my
name, we'll never do business
again. Not for a pair of shoelaces
or a stick of gum.
ANDY
I understand. Thank you, Mr...?
RED
Red. The name's Red.
ANDY
Red. I'm Andy. Pleasure doing
business with you.
They shake. Andy strolls off. Red watches him go.
RED (V.O.)
I could see why some of the boys
took him for snobby. He had a quiet
way about him, a walk and a talk
that just wasn't normal around
here. He strolled. like a man in a
park without a care or worry. Like
he had on an invisible coat that
would shield him from this place.
(resumes playing catch)
Yes, I think it would be fair to
say I liked Andy from the start.
37 INT -- MESS HALL -- DAY (1947) 37
Red gets his breakfast and heads for a table. Andy falls in
step, slips him a tightly-folded square of paper.
38 INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 38
Lying on his bunk, Red unfolds the square. A ten dollar bill.
RED (V.O.)
He was a man who adapted fast.
39 EXT -- LOADING DOCK -- DAY (1947) 39
Under watchful supervision, CONS are off-loading bags of dirty
laundry from an "Eliot Nursing Home" truck.
RED (V.O.)
Years later, I found out he'd
brought in quite a bit more than
just ten dollars...
A certain bag hits the ground. The TRUCK DRIVER shoots a look
at a black con, LEONARD, then ambles over to a GUARD to shoot
the shit. Leonard loads the bag onto a cart...
40 INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY -- DAY (1947) 40
Bags are being unloaded. We find Leonard working the line.
RED (V.O.)
When they check you into this
hotel, one of the bellhops bends
you over and looks up your works,
just to make sure you're not
carrying anything. But a truly
determined man can get an object
quite a ways up there.
Leonard slips a small paper-wrapped package out of the laundry
bag, hides it under his apron, and keeps sorting...
4l INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY EXCHANGE -- DAY (1947) 41
Red deposits his dirty bundle and moves down the line to where
the clean sheets are being handed out.
RED (V.O.)
That's how Andy joined our happy
little Shawshank family with more
than five hundred dollars on his
person. Determination.
Leonard catches Red's eye, turns and grabs a specific stack of
clean sheets. He hands it across to Red --
TIGHT ANGLE
-- and more than clean laundry changes hands. Two packs of
cigarettes slide out of Red's hand into Leonard's.
42 INT -- RED'S CELL -- DAY (1947) 42
Red slips the package out of his sheets, carefully checks to
make sure nobody's coming, then rips it open. He pulls out the
rock-hammer. It's just as Andy described. Red laughs softly.
RED (V.O.)
Andy was right. I finally got the
joke. It would take a man about six
hundred years to tunnel under the
wall with one of these.
43 INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- 2ND TIER -- NIGHT (1947) 43
Brooks Hatlen pushes a cart of books from cell to cell. The
rolling library. He finds Red waiting for him. Red slips the
rock-hammer, wrapped in a towel, through the bars and onto the
cart. Next comes six cigarettes to pay for postage.
RED
Dufresne.
Brooks nods, never missing a beat. He rolls his cart to
Andy's cell, mutters through the bars:
BROOKS
Middle shelf, wrapped in a towel.
Andy's hand snakes through the bars and makes the object
disappear. The hand comes back and deposits a small slip of
folded paper along with more cigarettes. Brooks turns his cart
around and goes back. He pauses, sorting his books long enough
for Red to snag the slip of paper. Brooks continues on,
scooping the cigarettes off the cart and into his pocket.
44 INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 44
Red unfolds the slip of paper. Penciled neatly on it is a
single word: "Thanks."
45 INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY -- DAY (1947) 45
We are assaulted by the deafening noise of the laundry line.
Andy is doing his job, getting good at it.
BOB
DUFRESNE! WE'RE LOW ON HEXLITE!
HEAD ON BACK AND FETCH US UP SOME!
Andy nods. He leaves the line, weaving his way through the
laundry room and into --
46 INT -- BACK ROOMS/STOCK AREA -- DAY (1947) 46
-- a dark, tangled maze of rooms and corridors, boilers and
furnaces, sump pumps, old washing machines, pallets of
cleaning supplies and detergents, you name it. Andy hefts a
cardboard drum of Hexlite off the stack, turns around --
-- and finds Bogs Diamond in the aisle. blocking his way.
Rooster looms from the shadows to his right, Pete Verness
on the left. A frozen beat. Andy slams the Hexlite to the
floor, rips off the top, and scoops out a double handful.
ANDY
You get this in your eyes, it
blinds you.
BOGS
Honey, hush.
Andy backs up, holding them at bay, trying to maneuver through
the maze. The Sisters keep coming, tense and guarded, eyes
riveted and gauging his every move, trying to outflank him.
Andy trips on some old gaint sugglies. That's all it takes.
They're on him in an instant, kicking and stomping.
Andy gets yanked to his feet. Bogs applies a chokehold from
behind. They propel him across the room and slam him against
an old four-pocket machine, bending him over it. Rooster jams
a rag into Andy's mouth and secures it with a steel pipe, like
a horse bit. Andy kicks and struggles, but Rooster and Pete
have his arms firmly pinned. Bogs whispers in Andy's ear:
BOGS
That's it, fight. Better that way.
Andy starts screaming, muffled by the rag. CAMERA PULLS BACK,
SLOWLY WIDENING. The big Washex blocks our view. All we see
is Andy's screaming face and the men holding him down...
...and CAMERA DRIFTS FROM THE ROOM, leaving the dark place
and the dingy act behind...MOVING up empty corridors, past
concrete walls and steel pipes...
RED (V.O.)
I wish I could tell you that Andy
fought the good fight, and the
Sisters let him be. I wish I could
tell you that, but prison is no
fairy-tale world.
WE EMERGE into the prison laundry past a guard, WIDENING for
a final view of the line. The giant steel "mangler" is
slapping down in brutal rhythm. The sound is deafening.
RED (V.O.)
He never said who did it...but we
all knew.
PRISON MONTAGE: (1947 through 1949)
47 ANDY PLODS THROUGH HIS DAYS. WORKING. EATING. CHIPPING AND 47
shaping his rocks after lights-out...
&nbs
