T H E S I L E N C E O F T H E L A M B S
screenplay by
TED TALLY
based on the novel by
THOMAS HARRIS
2nd draft
July 28, 1989
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NOTE
For legal reasons, the names of three
of Tom Harris's characters have had to
be changed. It is my hope, and certainly
Tom's, that the original names can be
restored in time for the making of this
movie.
For the purposes of this draft, however,
Jack Crawford has become "Ray Campbell,"
Frederick Chilton has become "Herbert
Prentiss," and Dr. Hannibal Lecter is
called "Dr. Gideon Quinn."
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FADE IN:
INT. GRUBBY HOTEL CORRIDOR - DAY (DIMLY LIT)
A woman's face BACKS INTO SHOT, her head resting against grimy
wallpaper. She is tense, sweaty, wide-eyed with concentration.
This is CLARICE STARLING - mid-20's, trim, very pretty. She wears
Kevlar body armor over a navy windbreaker, khaki pants. Her thick
hair is piled under a navy baseball cap. A revolver, clutched in
her right hand, hovers by her ear. She raises a speedloader, in
her left hand, locks it into her cylinder, twists and reloads.
CLOSE ON
a guest room door, with a small, wired pack attached to its knob.
Suddenly, wish a sharp CRACK!, the knob explodes, and the door
bursts open.
WITH CLARICE - MOVING SHOT -
as she runs around a corner, through a cloud of smoke. She
shoulders aside the shattered door and rushes inside, gun at
the ready in both hands...
CUT TO:
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAY
CLARICE'S POV - MOVING - as she first sees, sitting on the edge
of a bed - a FEMALE HOSTAGE. Black, late 20's, gagged, hands
behind her back. Then, SWIVELLING... she sees a startled MALE
SUSPECT - white, mid-20's - standing by a window with a rifle
in his hands. He is turning towards her...
CLARICE
drops into a combat crouch, gun extended, and shouts.
CLARICE
Freeze! FBI!
CLARICE'S POV - SLOW MOTION -
all natural SOUND suspended - as the Suspect faces her with
a strange, pleading expression. The rifle is rising in his hands,
but oddly enough, it is held across his chest, not pointing. Then
another puzzling detail registers...
THE SUSPECT'S HANDS
are taped to his gun, away from the trigger; he couldn't use it
even if he tried. Suddenly we hear a metallic CLICK, which reg-
isters with unnatural amplification, as -
CLARICE
reacts, drops to the floor, rolling sideways, and -
THE "HOSTAGE"
pulls a revolver out from behind her back, still in SLOW MOTION,
raising it in her untied hands. She fires repeatedly, flames
leaping from the muzzle; the SOUND is an echoing roar in these
close quarters, but -
CLARICE
has come up on one knee, beside an armchair, and is already
firing back herself, two quick SHOTS, which send -
THE "HOSTAGE"
pitching over the bed, backwards, to shudder and lie still in a
haze of gunsmoke. Clarice rushes to her, clamping one knee down
on her gun hand, still keeping her covered in case of movement.
HOLD for a few beats... then we hear the shrill blast of a
WHISTLE from somewhere, O.S., as normal ACTION and SOUND are
restored.
BRIGHAM (O.S.)
Okay, people, good exercise...
Clarice relaxes, lowering her gun. The lights brighten.
PULLING BACK -
we see that we're in some sort of auditorium, with the "hotel
room" and its "corridor" built as a training set. JOHN BRIGHAM
walks onto this set, thumbing a stopwatch. Mid-40's, ex-Marine.
His T-shirt's lettering says "Firearms Instructor / FBI Academy."
BRIGHAM (contd.)
Starling's reaction time was excellent.
Let's break. Critique in five.
A class of about forty young FBI trainees, of both sexes, be-
gins to rise from their seats, mingling and chatting.
CLARICE
nods amiably to the "Suspect", then gives her "Hostage" a hand
up. It's ARDELIA MAPP, her roommate. Her broad, clever face
breaks into a big smile, as they both remove ear plugs. Clarice's
voice has just a soft trace of southern accent.
ARDELIA
Damn, Clarice, how'd you make me?
CLARICE
(indicating her gun)
Never cock. Just squeeze.
ARDELIA
(grins)
I love it when you talk dirty.
As Brigham joins them, Clarice can't resist a star pupil's little
smile of pride. He frowns good-naturedly.
BRIGHAM
What're you laughin' at, Junior G-Man?
She got off four rounds to your two.
He takes out a steel-coiled grip flexer, drops it onto her palm.
BRIGHAM (contd.)
One hundred reps, each hand, every day.
Now tidy up, the Section Chief wants to
see you.
He nods a direction, then moves off. Clarice, with her smile
finally fading, looks out into the auditorium.
SPECIAL AGENT RAY CAMPBELL
sits on the top step of the aisle, looking down at her. He is 53,
strongly built. He rises impassively, exits through the back door.
He carries a think manila envelope under one arm.
ARDELIA
who is helping Clarice unbuckle her bullet-proof vest, follows
her worried gaze.
CLARICE
What'd I do?
ARDELIA
Stay cool. Just remember to call
him "God."