The Hyperbole
I shall stand strong against the professional writer. I shall fight as David against Goliath. Small and (not) so humble, I shall do battle. With the slash of my pen (keyboard) and the (paper) cut of my canvas (screen) will I bring down the mighty screenwriters of today and yore. I shall be the ScreenSlayer!
The Setup
If you’re not evolving, you’re dying. True for life and true for screenwriting. With that in mind then how can we evolve in our screenwriting and make that Killer Shorts entry sing on the page? By writing. By reading. Why not combine the two? Okay, that’s a good idea you had. I will watch a clip from a horror film and then write the screenplay version myself. After, I’ll compare it to the actual script and see what lessons there are to be learnt. And ponder a little (tongue in cheek), did I ScreenSlay the professional?
I’ve not read the script for this clip before or if I have I’ve completely forgotten doing so. I would forget my own name if… where was I?
The Approach
I’m a firm believer in the “voice” reflecting the tone of the film and the scene. A bombastic scene written in a flat monotone won’t get the reader hyped. A hyper written quiet scene is going to leave a reader confused.
Instead of trying to replicate the “old” style of chunky blocks of actions, I’m going to go for the more modern approach. Minimal and impactful is going to be my goal with this one.
The Film
The Logline
Three years after a prank went terribly awry, the six college students responsible are targeted by a masked killer at a New Year’s Eve party aboard a moving train.
The Clip
The Amateur Script
INT. CARRIAGE – NIGHT
Alana SLAMS the steel door in Killer’s face! Can’t quite close it as he BARGES against the other side. She grabs the CHAIN, pulls and pulls. Can’t get it locked in.
A losing battle, jumps away. Throws down nearby junk to block the way.
Darts down the carriage past the postmaster’s wire cage.
Killer BURSTS in, bolts the door. Now she’s trapped!
Alana up ends a table to further stymie his way.
Rushes to the back door. Yanks and yanks on it, it won’t budge! Beats her fists against it.
Killer, assured and claim, saunters towards her. Steps over her junk barricades with ease.
She glances back as he advances, panic crescendos her fight to open the door.
He can’t help but taunt her, shakes the bunk-beds that rest on either side.
She turns to face his masked faced. No way out, all she can do is plead.
ALANA
No! No, no…
He GRABS a fist-full of her hair, SLAMS the back of her head against the metal door. No emotion escapes from behind the mask but cold, steel eyes.
His hand JUTS out around her neck. SQUEEZES! She slides to the floor as he chokes the life out of her. A FIRE EXTINGUISHER against the wall. He climbs on top of her.
Eases a finger into the loop of her earring, gives it a small tug — RIPS it out! She gives a strangled scream.
His blooded hand goes back to help the other choke her. She slide her chin down, under his hand — BITES down hard! Killer flinches. It’s enough to give her an opening, shoves him off.
She scrambles to crawl under a bunk-bed, away from Killer — he grabs her retreating leg, YANKS her back. Looms over her. Raises his fist — SMACKS her across the face.
His hands ROCKET back around her throat. She manages to get a leg under him — kicks him away. Grabs the fire extinguisher — SPRAYS it in his masked FACE.
He falls back with a cry of pain. Covers his eyes.
Now’s her chance! Drags herself up, stumbles to the postmaster’s cage, her only safe haven.
Killer rises back up, staggers after her, half-blind.
She slams the cage door shut. Fumbles through the cage holes to shut the padlock on the outside. Lock damn it! It clicks in place just as he CRASHES against the cage door.
He rattles, yanks on it as she backs away in fear.
The lock a no go — BANGS on the steel wire cage in frustration. Prowls the outside for a way in. Alana stares on terrified, covered in blood.
ALANA
Stop!
He scans the junk in the carriage. There, against a wall, a LONG CROWBAR! Grabs it. Smashes out the light.
Alana whimpers, slides to cowers in a dark corner. Hopes to be hidden.
Back in control, Killer takes his time once again. Strolls back to the cage. Peers around, where could she be?
Alana can’t see him either. Her eyes and ears pinned back.
Beat.
CRASH — the crowbar spears through right in front of her face. She screams. Grabs it in a tug of war. Loses but escapes underneath from her corner.
Killer drags the crowbar across the metal wire cage like an annoying kid with a stick on a fence. Alana low on the floor, stares on in abject terror.
Killer busts out another light, only the postmaster’s and one at the far end left. Stalks towards it.
She stands, can only watch.
ALANA
(plea)
Kenny.
Killer turns at the end of the carriage. Breaks the final light, disappears into the darkness, only her light left.
ALANA
Kenny!
She scrambles through the stuff on the desk, searches for a weapon of any kind. Glances back to the surrounding gloom.
ALANA
Kenny, please!
From the dark, Killer appears! Goes to work on the padlock with the crowbar.
Alana continues her frantic search. Knocks papers and other bric-a-brac to the floor. Comes across — a PAPER SPIKE.
Killer struggles, engrossed with the padlock. She readies the paper spike — LUNGES — STABS right in his FACE!
An agonised cry, drops the crowbar, grabs his punctured face. Falls to his knees in pain.
Alana kicks at the door. KICK KICK KICK. A final powerful STRIKE — it swings open. She dashes out towards the front.
Killer drags himself from the pain, staggers to his feet in pained pursuit.
INT. BETWEEN CARRIAGES – CONTINUOUS
The door flies open. Alana stumbles out.
Struggles to open the guard between the carriages.
Killer staggers up from behind, POUNCES. She gives him a quick elbow to the guts. He falls back towards the gap.
Grabs out to her to stop himself falling off the train!
He drags her forward with him. Both headed for a deadly drop. She grips the guard, uses her foot to try and lever him off. Another tug of war.
His bloody hand SLIPS from her shirt! He cries out as he disappears into the black night.
Alana collapses, breaths hard.
Finds the energy and courage to check, he’s gone! A flood of relief and weariness.
The Original Script
Written by T.Y. Drake. First shooting script: November 2, 1979 (inc. [many] revisions).
INT. CREW CAR
Alana slams through the door, then tries to close it — but the tongue of the latch stops it — Just as the killer throws his weight against it. She eases the handle to slip the latch — but the killer shoves harder…she lets go of it and turns to run.
ANGLE FROM INSIDE THE CUBBY
Alana runs up to the cubby — it’s empty, lit up by a propane lamp suspended from wires. There’s a desk with a chair, Carne’s paraphernalia…and on the edge of the desk a letter spike. Alana moves around toward the door.
ANGLE AT THE DOOR DOWNTRAIN
CLOSE ON the killer’s hands, shoving the iron latch home. Hooking up a heavy chain.
ANGLE AT CUBBY DOOR ON ALANA
ON the uptrain side of the cubby. A padlock hangs open in part of the latch. Alana yanks the door open and reacts to:
ANGLE ON THE KILLER
Throwing himself against-the other side of the cubby wire like a terrible insect swarming against a screen, his mask more grotesque as it presses against the wire.
CLOSE ON ALANA
pulling the door closed behind her, and turning to grab the letter spike — and it’s gone. She looks up, terrified. CAMERA PULLS BACK and we’re looking at her THROUGH…the screen where the killer clung…but he’s not there. CAMERA MOVES AROUND the outside of her “cage” as she looks around.
HER P.O.V.
He could be anywhere, out there. The swaying propane lamp in the cubby casts shadows from crates and equipment that leap and shiver against the walls.
ANGLE ON ALANA
frantic, sobbing for breath, at the cubby door.
CLOSE ON HER FINGERS
working through the wire, getting cut — as she tries to snap the padlock. She succeeds and draws back her fingers.
ANGLE ON THE CUBBY FROM OUTSIDE
Alana is a brightly lighted target in the cubby — surrounded by a sea of moving shadows. She backs into a corner, looking around the crew car.
ANGLE INSIDE THE CUBBY
Alana huddles in a corner formed by the side wall of the train and a portion of the cubby screen covered with a travel poster — A sharp crowbar jabs right through the paper near her head. And jabs through again and again as she ducks forward…
ANGLE ON THE KILLER
who runs the crowbar along the cage and systematically knocks out remaining three lights. In shadow, he turns at the end of crew car and looks at Alana who is lit by the only remaining light, the one above her cage.
ALANA
Kenny?
KILLER
Hello, Alana.
Killer slowly, methodically moves toward the caged Alena.
ALANA
Kenny.
KILLER
It’s different this time, isn’t it Alana? I can see you, but you can’t see me…where are all your friends, Alana…I don’t hear them laughing.
The Killer begins to pry open the lock on the cage door.
ALANA’S P.O.V.
The letter spike is lying on its side under the desk, rolling slightly —
ANOTHER P.O.V.
As Alana lunges forward for the spike, while behind her the Killer is attacking the padlock with his crowbar.
INSERT
The letter spike in the shadows — her hand reaching toward it. The train lurches and it rolls away into darkness.
INSERT
The crowbar tears the lock off the door.
ANOTHER P.O.V.
Alana scrambles upright as the Killer opens the door and moves toward her. She grabs — the propane lamp, pulls it free of its wires and shade, and aims it like a flamethrower at the Killer’s mask — which catches fire. As he screams, tearing at the burning mask, she shoves past him and out the cubby door
FULL SHOT
Alana running toward the door downtrain. She trips and falls. Really hurts herself. But she makes herself get up — because the Killer is still coming on, out of the cubby behind her.
ANGLE ON THE KILLER
The weird ruin of the half-burned mask — a face out of a nightmare. Moving forward.
ANGLE ON ALANA
sobbing as she pulls at the chain of the door, trying to get it off while she hauls at the latch. She hauls the door open …the Killer is right on top of her, flinging the door open as she runs forward — bang into the closed iron gate.
ANGLE ON VESTIBULE – LOOKING UPTRAIN
The Killer grabs her as she tries to turn to open the gate. She knees him in the groin and he stumbles sideways. She throws herself backwards against the crew car door, sweeping the Killer toward the open gap between the cars. He teeters in the space, grabbing for a handhold. The train jolts — the cars close up. A scream and an awful sound of breaking bone. The cars draw apart again and his body pitches into the gap.
ANGLE ON ALANA
Finally she lets the door behind her push her forward. She looks down into the gap at the rails rushing by. It’s empty. He’s gone.
Download the screenplay for Terror Train (1980) here and join The Screenwriters Network to gain access to 16,000+ other screenplays.
The Conclusion
Did I ScreenSlay or ScreenFail? I would rate this as a ScreenSlay in modernising it myself but offer your opinion below in the comments.
Direction, direction, direction! The original pages are full of camera angles. A well worn piece of advice (that you can argue about) is: Don’t direct on the page. I’m not against it per se but here it does demonstrate to me how, if over used, it can become quite distracting. For me it kept taking me out of the moment as I had to mentally reset the image in my head.
Silence is golden. I notice that they didn’t have the killer speak at all in the filmed scenes. A silent antagonist tends to be more sinister, you can project what you find scary onto this masked man. Not knowing what he wants is far more frightening than having him just say it.
Chunk monkey (paragraphs)! How do I think the more in-depth action lines compare to what I would say is the more modern style? There are certainly a few occasions where the extra detail did slow things down, the frantic nature of a scene can certainly be overshadowed by long, detail filled sentences that, when they go on forever, you can just want them to end, oh please can’t this please just stop you say to yourself in hopes… It’s kind of obvious that the newer way would (subjectively) be better?
One quick note on seeding. I was interested to know how well set up the fire extinguisher would be, I didn’t get to see that but the next best thing was the letter spike. It was called out very early in the scene but not capitalised. Of course, in the script there was a fire set up instead but the lamp wasn’t capitalised either. I did see some underlining here and there but none of these important objects were called out. When it came to my pages, I used capitals for the initial identification and then underlined for a milder highlight. This, to my mind is harder for skimmers to miss.
The End
That’s your lot. Why not try this exercise yourself? With this clip or another. Do you have a clip you’d like to see me attempt? Let me know in a comment. Also, any other thoughts you have on how I did. I know this is the internet but try to be semi-nice. And if you can’t do that, follow Bart Simpsons’ example and try to try.
Have a good new year and let’s tempt fate by saying it can’t be as bad as 2020? This is a horror blog after all!
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Thanks to fanart.tv for the images.
