"THE AFRICAN QUEEN"
Screenplay by
James Agee, John Huston
and
Peter Viertel
Based on a novel by
C.S. Forester
SHOOTING DRAFT
EXT. A NATIVE VILLAGE IN A CLEARING BETWEEN THE JUNGLE AND
THE RIVER. LATE MORNING
LONG SHOT -- A CHAPEL
Intense light and heat, a stifling silence. Then the SOUND
of a reedy organ, of two voices which make the words distinct,
and of miscellaneous shy, muffled, dragging voices, beginning
a hymn:
VOICES
(singing)
"Guide me O Thou Great Jehovah..."
INT. CHAPEL -- LONG SHOT -- THE LENGTH OF THE BLEAK CHAPEL
PAST THE CONGREGATION, ON BROTHER, AT THE LECTERN, AND ROSE,
AT THE ORGAN
BROTHER, a missionary, faces CAMERA near center; ROSE, his
sister, is at side, her face averted. Everybody is singing.
"Pilgrim through this barren land..."
MEDIUM SHOT -- BROTHER:
middle-aged, rock-featured, bald, sweating painfully, very
much in earnest. He is very watchful of his flock. He sings
as loud as he can, rather nasally, and tries to drive the
meaning of each word home as if it were a nail. He is beating
with his hand, and trying hard to whip up the dragging tempo:
"I am weak, but Thou art mighty..."
CLOSER SHOT -- ROSE
early thirties, tight-featured and tight-haired, very hot
but sweating less than Brother.
She is pumping the pedals vigorously, spreading with her
knees the wings of wood which control the loudness, utilizing
various stops for expressiveness of special phrases, and
rather desperately studying the open hymnal, just managing
to play the right notes -- a very busy woman. She, too, is
singing her best and loudest, an innocent, arid, reedy
soprano; and she, too, is very attentive to the meanings of
words:
"Hold me with Thy powerful hand."
INSERT -- HALF-WAY THROUGH THE FOREGOING LINE, AN EXOTIC AND
HORRIBLE CENTIPEDE-LIKE CREATURE SLITHERS INTO VIEW BETWEEN
TWO OF THE ORGAN KEYS. WITHOUT INTERRUPTING HER PLAYING, AS
METHODICALLY AS SHE WOULD PULL OUT A NEW STOP, ROSE SWIPES
IT AWAY.
ROSE -- AS BEFORE --
completes "Thy Powerful Hand"; o.s. Voices of singers.
Unperturbed, Rose finishes her casual disposal of the bug
and pulls out a new stop.
MISCELLANEOUS SHOTS --
Through rest of hymn, SHOOT and CUT against its lines for
meaning, irony and pathos, roughly as follows:
FULL VIEW of congregation past Brother and Rose. They are
all Negroes and nearly all are dressed in glaring white --
the women in garments like camisoles, the men in pants which
reach about to their shins: splayed, bare feet. Some of the
faces bear the marks of heavy savage ornaments which have
been removed, or of tatooing and scarring rituals which have
been outlived -- torn nostrils, lips and ear lobes, a neck
curiously thin and weak from the enormously heavy metal bands
which used to surround it. Some of the children are naked or
near-naked. Nearly everybody dutifully shares open hymnals,
but it is obvious that few, if any, can read. The singing of
most of them is weirdly shy and inchoate -- a little like
that of a neighborhood audience when a group "sing" is imposed
upon them. But on certain high phrases a glad, rich, wet
soprano lifts out large and happy, very child-like; and a
big male voice bleats forth joyous, jazz-like improvements
on the tune, a little off-key. There are very few men present.
We detail or bring into salience, bare feet slapping time
and an anklet shimmying; a very earnest young married couple
with the wedding ring prominent and an impressive phalanx of
children in tow; the owner of the happy soprano, a sweet,
contented, pre-moral face; the owner of the big male voice;
the inevitable rather effeminate man in every congregation
who loves religion because he loves Beauty. He is immensely
pleased that he knows all the words (the others just dab at
them): he sings them without any knowledge of their meaning:
they sound Hawaiian. Also, we SPOT a tremendously old,
wrinkled, bent-over woman, dressed in white like a good
Christian, but with a bone stuck through the septum of her
nose. She croaks, toothless, bleary-eyed.
These things must be disposed of by late in the first stanza,
which continues:
"Open now the crystal fountain Whence the living waters flow,
Let the fiery, cloudy pillar Lead me all my journey through."
We close on the old dame with the bone singing --
"...my journey through." o.s., on "...fiery, cloudy pillar",
a queer SOUND, steadily louder: the absurdly flatulent,
yammering syncopation of a rachitic steam motor. Eyes begin
to wander from hymnals: CUT IN Brother frowning and singing
harder trying to impose order; attention to the hymn begins
to fall apart a little; FOLLOW the white, veering eyes to
FRAME, through the open window.
LONG SHOT -- THE AFRICAN QUEEN
whose WHISTLE lets out a steamy whinny, then REPEATS it,
with great self-satisfaction. She is squat, flat-bottomed --
thirty feet long. A tattered awning roofs in six feet of her
stern. Amidships stand her boiler and engine. A stumpy funnel
reaches up a little higher than the awning.
ON SECOND WHINNY,
CUT TO:
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT -- ON HIS BOAT
He is in worn, rather befouled white clothes. He is barefooted
and his feet are cocked up and he is sitting on his shoulder
blades, smoking a bad cigar. He wears a ratty boater,
slantwise, against the sunlight. He is attended by two young
Negroes so tall, thin and gracile they suggest black macaroni.
One is proudly and busily puttering at the engine, which
requires a lot of attention: the other is fanning ALLNUTT,
who is feeling just fine. Allnutt speaks to the fanner in
Swahili. The young man without breaking the rhythm of his
fanning, licks out one long, boneless arm and alters the
lashed tiller; the Queen begins to swerve toward shore. o.s.,
the hymn continues, all but drowned by motor noise.
LONG SHOT -- INT. CHAPEL
Rose pulls out all the stops, spreads her knees, and pumps
like mad in her effort to drown out the ENGINE SOUND. Brother
sweats and sings even harder, scowling, shaking his head.
The singing is fraying out half to hell; the congregation is
a solid black wall of wandering eyes; a few pious converts
frown or nudge at the less pious; a little group is coalescing
toward the window.
The hymn, meanwhile, continues:
"Feed me with the heavenly manna in this barren wilderness,
Be my sword, my shield, my banner, be the Lord my
righteousness."
Rose's sense of artistic propriety is too much for her. To
keep things going, she ought to play loud, but on the next
line --
"When I tread the verge of Jordan..." she shuts down to the
vox humana and the tremolo and maintains that through --
"Bid my anxious fears subside."
On this line, Allnutt appears and lounges against the front
door frame still drawing on his cigar. Rose lets everything
rip fortissimo on the closing lines:
"Death of death, and hell's destruction land me safe on
Canaan's side."
By the time of "hell's destruction," Allnutt becomes aware
that a lighted cigar in church is bad manners, and, nodding
casual apology to Brother, tosses it away onto the packed
dirt, out of our sight. Instantly there is a hell of a
hullaballoo o.s., all in gibberish, against which the closing
words of the hymn compete stridently.
The less self-controlled of the flock are no longer singing,
and are craning their necks and rolling their eyes, but with
just enough Sunday-Schoolish discipline to stay in their
places. The more pious, with effort, keep their eyes where
they belong and SING all the harder. IN QUICK SHOTS, Brother
and Rose redouble their efforts. There is a final long-drawn
"Aaaa-men," and it is clear this is the closing hymn of the
service. Brother closes his book and picks up his service-
book; Rose shuts and locks the box-organ and puts the key
(which is on two shoestrings) around her neck. Brother strides
with decorous alacrity down the middle aisle. Immediately
following him, the natives hurry from their benches.
SHOOTING PAST ALLNUTT -- THROUGH DOOR
on the cause of the hullaballoo -- a squabbling football
scrimmage of virtually nude male heathens, battling for the
cigar butt. In b.g., if permissible, a couple of equally
nude women; a thin, pot-bellied little boy dashing happily
toward the fight. Brother and the eager heads of white-clad
Christians come into the SHOT, BACK TO CAMERA, watching. One
of the heathen fights his way up from the heap with a yowl
of supremacy, filed teeth in a great grin, prancing and
holding high above them all the frantically busted cigar of
vaudeville; others leap after it.
REVERSE ANGLE
Allnutt, seeing the wrecked cigar, looks kind of bleak. As
Brother comes out, he meets his annoyed eye with mingled
reproach, apology and indifference.
ALLNUT
(to Brother)
Hello, Reverend.
BROTHER
Mr. Allnutt.
ALLNUT
Here's your mail. Sorry I'm late,
but one thing and another kept me in
Limbasi. You know how it is, Reverend.
(he winks)
Or maybe you don't.
Brother clears his throat.
ALLNUT
They gave me a real going over when
I got to the mine. They called me
all the names they could think of --
in Belgian, but I don't mind so much
bein' cursed in a foreign language,
so I just took it with a smile. They
wouldn't fire me, I was sure of that.
There ain't nobody in Central Africa
but yours truly knows how to get up
a head of steam on The African Queen.
It may sound like bragging, Reverend,
but I'm mighty close to being in-di-
spensable. Seein's how them Belgians
is too damn cheap to buy 'er a new
engine.
Rose joins them at the door.
ROSE
(indifferently)
Good morning, Mr. Allnutt.
ALLNUT
Mornin', Miss.
Rose's prayer book is clamped under her sharp elbow. Her
walking is used to country, yet tight and spinsterish.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT, BROTHER AND ROSE
For a moment Allnutt looks at Rose with utter casualness and
indifference; his eyes leave her even before Brother speaks.
Brother is looking through the mail. Past them, the liberated
Christians walk into the sunshine.
BROTHER
Ah, splendid, At last they've come.
ALLNUT
Huh?
BROTHER
My marrow seed.
Behind these lines, the TINY OLD WOMAN with the nose-bone
makes herself prominent; she's waiting to speak to Brother,
almost plucking his sleeve.
BROTHER
(to Allnutt)
Yes.
(to Grandma)
Yes?
OLD WOMAN
(in snaggle-toothed,
adoring enthusiasm)
Oh Mistah Sayuh, I does like how you
preach!
BROTHER
'k you?
OLD WOMAN
All dat hell-fish!
Brother nods and smiles uneasily.
OLD WOMAN
De way yo' neck swell up.
BROTHER
(in dismissal)
Thank you, thank you.
(to Allnutt, without
enthusiasm)
You'll stop for tea, Mr. Allnutt.
ALLNUT
Don't care if I do.
They start walking TOWARDS AND PAST CAMERA.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. DINING ROOM. MED. SHOT -- RIGIDLY SYMMETRICAL, ACROSS
DINING ROOM TABLE
Rose at dead center, Brother at her left, in profile, Allnutt
at her right, opposite Brother, in profile. The room is so
shaded against heat it is gloomy. The silence, gloom and
heat are stifling. Rose is pouring the second of three cups
of tea; she pours the third. Brother is deep in the news of
a Mission paper. Allnutt sits oppressed by the silence, like
a child on his good behavior. A long silence while Rose
leisurely pours.
ROSE
You take sugar, Mr. Allnutt, I seem
to remember.
ALLNUT
That's right, Miss. Couple
o'spoonfuls.
She doles them into his cup.
ROSE
And cream.
ALLNUT
Right.
Rose passes him his tea.
ROSE
Bread and butter?
ALLNUT
(taking some)
'oh obliged.
He picks up his cup an inch to drink and puts it down again.
Nobody else is served yet. Rose fixes Brother's tea and plants
it beside him. She puts a slice of bread and butter on his
plate.
BROTHER
(reading)
'k you?
Rose finishes fixing her own tea, and helps herself to bread-
and-butter. She lifts her cup, not quite crooking her pinkie,
and sips. Allnutt still doesn't move; he is waiting for
Brother. Brother finishes and turns his page, and, without
shifting his eyes, finds his tea with a blind hand and blindly
drinks it and sets down the cup again. Allnutt, licensed,
takes a big bite of bread-and-butter and picks up his cup
and washes it down. By Rose's covered reaction, it is clear
that she has been taught never, never to do this, but that
she expects no better of such as Allnutt. Allnutt sighs wetly
and contentedly. This, too, is bad manners to Rose, but she
takes it in her stride.
They go on soberly eating bread-and-butter and drinking tea.
The only SOUNDS are those of china, sipping, chewing and
swallowing. Nobody looks at anyone else. Brother and Rose
are wholly, stiffly reposeful; they are used to this. Allnutt
begins to get a little squirmy, like a child in church. The
silence makes him visibly uneasy, but he tries not to show
his uneasiness.
All of a sudden, out of the silence, there is a SOUND like a
mandolin string being plucked. At first the sound is
unidentifiable, though instantly all three glance sharply
up, each at the other two, then away; in the next instant
they recognize what it is and each glances sharply,
incredulously, at the other two -- and then again, quickly
away; then Brother and Rose glance with full recognition at
Allnutt, at the instant that he knows the belly-growl is
his. At the moment of recognition, he glances down at his
middle with a look of embarrassed reproach. He glances up
quickly and slyly -- hopeful they've missed it -- to find
the eyes of both still fixed on him. The instant their eyes
meet they bounce apart like billiard balls, and fix on the
first neutral object they happen to hit. Then Allnutt looks
at them again: neither will look at him.
All three lift their cups at the same moment, for a covering,
disembarrassing drink of tea. Rose and Allnutt simultaneously
recognize what they are doing (Brother is pretending to read,
misses it, and goes ahead and drinks his), and both, at the
same moment, lower their cups to saucers with an almost
simultaneous clink. Both look away from each other. Brother
clears his throat rather loudly and turns a page. Rose and
Allnutt reach for their cups; Brother beats them to it. When
Brother has again put down his cup, Rose -- the tail of her
eye on Allnutt -- picks up her cup and drinks, her eyes
carefully empty above the cup. Allnutt has his cup again on
the way to his mouth when his insides give out with a growl
so long-drawn and terrible that Rose first flinches, then
makes a noise across it with her spoon, stirring her tea.
Brother tightens up like a fist, his first reflex being that
this loud one is a calculated piece of effrontery. Allnutt
just endures it, with a look of suffering stoicism. When it
is over there is a tense silence. Allnutt slowly, slyly looks
up at Brother; he is stone. He looks to Rose; she is gazing
far off into space. Allnutt is quite embarrassed, and knows
they are. He does his best to relieve his own embarrassment
and theirs.
ALLNUT
(in a friendly, yet
detached tone)
Just listen to that stomick of mine.
There is a silence. By their almost invisible reaction, it
is clear that to just listen to that stomick of his, is the
last thing they want to do. Allnutt is a bit chilled by the
silence, but he tries again.
ALLNUT
Way it sounds, you'd think I'd got
an 'eye-ener inside me.
A silence.
Rose looks at Allnutt; their eyes meet; he attempts a friendly
smile. Her face goes stony with embarrassment and she looks
quickly away. So does he.
ROSE
(as soon as she can
manage it)
Do have another cup of tea, Mr.
Allnutt.
ALLNUT
Thanks, Miss, don't mind if I do.
He passes his cup, while she pours. There is a third growling;
not so bad. Allnutt says nothing. Then, after a pause:
ALLNUT
Scuse me.
Rose looks stone deaf. She hands him his cup.
ALLNUT
Much obliged, Miss.
He drinks some tea.
ALLNUT
Queer thing, ain't it.
(a silence)
Wot I mean, wot d'you spose it is,
makes a man's stomick carry on like
that?
ROSE
Bread and butter, Mr. Allnutt?
ALLNUT
Thanks, Miss.
He takes some and eats. After a little chewing, his jaws
slow; he is expecting another growl and listens intently; so
does Rose; none comes, After a little, Allnutt relaxes and
Rose relaxes at least to a state of armed truce. They are
both munching methodically, eyes out of focus, when Brother
takes a curiously official-mannered gulp of tea, sets down
his cup, and breaks the silence.
BROTHER
Herbie Morton's a bishop.
ALLNUT
(thinking the remark
is addressed to him)
Huh?
ROSE
Who's that, dear?
Allnutt is pretty embarrassed to have said "huh."
BROTHER
Surely you remember Herbie Morton.
(Rose looks doubtful)
Blond, ruddy-complected chap, a bit
younger than me. He sang a solo at
the graduation exercises. "Holy,
Holy", I believe.
ROSE
(dubiously)
I think I remember. It was so long
ago.
BROTHER
Well, he's a bishop now.
ROSE
Splendid.
BROTHER
I'd say Herbie was a bit younger
than I -- four or five years.
(Rose pours more tea
into his cup)
Surprising in a way. I mean -- well,
there was nothing outstanding about
him. He was no great shakes as a
student and he didn't have any more
than his share of the social graces.
(a pause; he drinks
then eats bread and
butter, but with
rather less relish
than before)
No doubt one does get ahead quicker
at home than in a foreign field...
And then, of course, he did marry
well.
ROSE
Oh!
BROTHER
That manufacturer's widow. What was
his name? Briggs -- Griggs -- Briggs --
yes, Alfred Briggs. Soap flakes, I
think. Yes, Mrs. Alfred Briggs.
(pause)
Not to take anything away from Herbie.
(pause)
I am delighted for him.
ROSE
Of course.
BROTHER
It was "Holy, Holy."
ROSE
(pause)
Yes.
A silence. Brother isn't even looking at his paper. Allnutt's
stomach talks gently. They all accept it stoically.
ALLNUT
(after quite a silence)
There ain't a thing I can do about
it.
A silence.
ROSE
More tea, Mr. Allnutt.
ALLNUT
No, Miss, I reckon not. About time I
shoved off, if I'm gonna get back to
the mine by tomorra night.
ROSE
(insincerely)
Don't hurry, Mr. Allnutt.
BROTHER
(sure he is safe)
Stay for dinner.
ALLNUT
(shaking his head)
Thanks all the same.
Brother pushes back his chair. Allnutt pushes back his chair
and gets up. Rose pats her lips with her handkerchief, pushes
back her chair, and gets up.
BROTHER
Mr. Allnutt brought the marrow seed
at last.
ROSE
Splendid.
BROTHER
I must say, though, they were forever
getting here.
ALLNUT
Lucky they come through now, cause
it don't look like they'll be no
more mail for a while.
BROTHER
Why not?
ALLNUT
Reckon the Germans'll hold it up.
BROTHER
(irate -- we sense a
background of
unpleasant relations
with the Germans)
In heaven's name why?
ALLNUT
Cause it looks like there's a war
on.
BROTHER
No. Really? Where, Mr. Allnutt?
ALLNUT
Europe.
BROTHER
(with the patronizing
concern of one who
hears of another
Balkan brawl)
Indeed! Between whom?
ALLNUT
Oh, Germany, England, the whole --
BROTHER AND ROSE
(electrified)
England!!
ALLNUT
Right.
BROTHER
(pop-eyed)
You mm -- you really mean war?
ALLNUT
Wot they tell me. Germans claim the
British started it. British claim it
was the Germans. In any case, it's
war.
ROSE
(with great intensity)
But what's happened! What do you
know about it!
BROTHER
(like a whip)
Rose!
(she shuts up fast)
Exactly, Mr. Allnutt, what has
happened?
ALLNUT
Well, now, that's about all I can
remember. Oh yes -- France is in it,
too. She's with us, I fink. A lot 'o
them little countries are in it too --
Austria-Hungary, Spain, Belgium -- I
forget 'oo's with 'oom.
A pause.
BROTHER
(quiet desperation)
And that is all you can tell us?
ALLNUT
All I know. -- I'll try to pick up
some more, next trip to Limbasi.
BROTHER
I wonder to what extent we here shall
be affected.
ALLNUT
None, I shouldn't think.
BROTHER
This is German territory.
ALLNUT
Why would they want to bother a poor
devil of a missionary and his maiden
sister? -- beggin' your pardons.
BROTHER
We are enemy aliens.
ALLNUT
Wot's the difference -- in this God-
forsaken place?
ROSE
(bridling)
God has not forgotten this place,
Mr. Allnutt -- as my brother's
presence here bears witness.
ALLNUT
No offence, Miss.
Another puzzled pause.
BROTHER
Really war.
ALLNUT
Looks like it... Well, I better shove
off now. Many thanks for the tea.
He opens the door and goes through it.
REVERSE ANGLE SHOT -- GROUP
as Brother and Rose come through after him.
ALLNUT
Well, take care of yerselves.
(he goes down the
steps)
See ya next month.
BROTHER
Goodbye. And thank you.
ALLNUT
(at bottom of steps)
'Bye, Miss.
ROSE
Goodbye, Mr. Allnutt.
LONG SHOT -- PAST THEM
CAMERA watches them watch him as he shambles towards his
boat. He soon lights a stogie; his relief in smoking and in
being free of them is eloquent in his back. His boys jump to
action; curious villagers make way for him; the engine is
going by the time he gets there. The boat backs out and sets
its course upstream; Allnutt turns and lifts a hand. Brother
lifts a hand; Rose doesn't. The boat soon goes out of sight
beyond trees.
OVER the above, back-to-CAMERA, or quarter-profiled from the
rear as they idly watch his departure, Rose and Brother talk
quietly as follows:
ROSE
Shouldn't we perhaps call him back?
Get to Limbasi while we can?
BROTHER
(with unction, yet
with dignity)
The good shepherd does not forsake
his flock when wolves prowl.
(a pause)
Besides, I think Allnutt is very
probably right... I can't imagine
any reason why the Germans should
trouble us.
ROSE
No, I suppose not.
By now, the boat is pulling out; Brother and Allnutt exchange
their not very friendly waves. Rose looks idly after Allnutt,
in Sunday boredom. Nothing is said for a few seconds after
the boat vanishes; the SOUND of the engine dwindles.
BROTHER
(awed, and moved)
War. England. Just think!
As he speaks, CAMERA STARTS a coldly SLOW PAN, past the
chapel, and square onto the jungle, so altering its position
behind Brother and Rose that they are held in -- l.s. (where
before they were in r.s.).
(N.B.: BY MID-PAN the ENGINE SOUND dies.)
An almost nude native explodes from the wall of jungle,
running as fast as he can, bellowing breathlessly in Swahili
and English. Until they hear his bellowing, Brother's and
Rose's heads are still ANGLED AWAY from jungle -- not towards
river still, but idle and unfocused. With the first sound of
his voice, their heads turn sharply, with weary impatience,
not alarm, towards the sound.
The native does not pause in the village, though he shouts
vague things in Swahili as he runs, setting up a kind of
helpless agitation among the villagers; in b.g. we see still
more of them coming with lazy interest out of their huts,
while the native tears towards the bungalow bellowing,
breathlessly.
NATIVE
Mistah Sayuh! Mistah Sayuh!
MEDIUM CLOSEUP -- ROSE AND BROTHER (FROM RUNNER'S ANGLE)
favoring Brother.
NATIVE'S VOICE
(o.s.)
Mistah! Oh Mistah Sayuh!
The eyes of Brother and Rose abruptly lift beyond the runner
and come into focus as hard as hawks; almost instantly, their
faces become terrible with recognition, despair, and courage --
and, for the moment with uncertainty, still, whether such
emotions are needed.
REVERSE SHOT -- (FROM THEIR ANGLE AND DISTANCE) -- GERMAN
TROOPS
emerge from the somber wall of the jungle, tiny against the
wall, but looking very efficacious and professional in their
tropical uniforms. Instantly they form ranks before an officer
who barks an order in German, just audible to us. The natives
are somewhat scared and awed, but mainly immobilized with
scare, awe, and curiosity. Upon the order, the Germans
promptly break ranks and start swiftly and effectively about
their business. One group starts rounding up the natives.
Another starts collecting live-stock, usable food and
supplies. Another covers operations with rifles. Two men
light torches and start setting fire to straw huts. One man
stands by the officer.
BROTHER'S VOICE
(o.s.; as soon as it
becomes clear what
the Germans are up
to, his voice is
quiet but harsh)
Rose -- go indoors and stay there.
o.s., the SOUND of their feet on the front steps. They come
swiftly into the SHOT BELOW the CAMERA and walk fast, Rose
trailing, towards the officer. After only a few steps Brother
begins to trot, ungainly; Rose, still more ungainly, in her
narrow skirt, trots too.
CLOSE SHOT -- THE OFFICER --
a tired, rather heavy, neutral, thoroughly unmemorable face.
He is not as tall as Brother, to whom he is giving the once-
over. His look is neither brutal nor humane: just experienced.
It seems to say, roughly and humorously: "Well, well, what
have I got to deal with here?" His guardian soldier steps
quickly to one side and forward; a nonentity with a gun.
LESS CLOSE SHOT -- BROTHER -- (ROSE IN B.G.)
BROTHER
(boiling mad, the
innocent courage of
a lion)
What is the meaning of this outrage!
OFFICER --
centered, but a little less close than before; his guard in
extreme r.s.
OFFICER
(calmly, in German)
Speak German, please; I speak no
English.
CLOSER SHOT -- BROTHER
the crest of a wave of righteous fury mounting just before
breaking; toppling forward; the terrifying face of a man
almost ready to murder out of a sense of being right.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- THE FOUR OF THEM --
as close as the CAMERA can frame all four; as, simultaneously,
Brother lunges forward at the officer, Rose lunges forward
to prevent Brother; the officer steps neatly backward and
sidewise, and his guardian steps forward briskly and, sharply
but just hard enough to be effective, and with an ugly SOUND
of impact, strikes Brother on the left joint of the jaw with
his rifle butt. Brother goes heavily to the ground with a
groaning gasp.
BROTHER
(rage, shock,
astonishment)
No!
ROSE
(at same instant,
squatting beside
him, turning his
head; she is beside
herself)
Judkins!
CLOSE UP -- BROTHER -- (SHOOTING DOWN PAST ROSE) as she turns
his head.
BROTHER
(semi-conscious; his
jaw not broken but
bleeding and already
swelling)
No. No.
ROSE
(across his words)
Oh, Judkins. Brother dear. Come,
dear. Come, Brother.
She helps him to his feet; past them, the officer and his
guard walk briskly, aloofly away, and past the whole business,
as Brother and Rose get up and the CAMERA LIFTS to normal
eye level with them, a much later stage of the destruction
of the village is visible in b.g. and is implied o.s. by
Brother's eyes.
Brother's eyes, scorched-looking, appalled, all but demented,
flick from horror to horror; he is watching the annihilation
of his life's work and, to his mind, the annihilation of
Christian and potential Christian souls; his head quavers in
the negative gesture like that of a paretic; his mouth, always
hard up to this moment, trembles now and looks curiously
large and sensual.
BROTHER
No! No, Lord! O no! O no! Lord! No!
O no!
Rose is in the SHOT with him; shorter and less favored than
he is. Her eyes are constantly upon his face. Tears come out
of her eyes, but she is doing no vocal crying. She is watching
his heart break and, essentially, she is watching him die,
and knows it.
SLOW FADE:
FADE IN:
LONG SHOT -- SAME AS THAT WHICH OPENS THE PICTURE --
the hottest part of the day -- most smashing sunlight
possible.
There is no village now -- only the round scorched marks
where the huts stood; a sketch of debris.
At some distance from the bungalow, and in the middle of a
lot of gaping space, Brother is hoeing in his vegetable
garden. He is terribly small in the enormous barrenness and
light. He hoes long enough to convey great loneliness and a
kind of blind perseverance, then straightens and looks rather
vaguely around him, mopping his face and bald head with a
handkerchief. Then, with an abrupt look of purpose, he starts
walking, letting the hoe fall where it happens to. He walks
towards the bungalow, across the bare ground, not very fast
or very steadily, but purposefully. The sunlight makes a
near-halation on his bare, bald head. The walk takes him
long enough to infer utter loneliness and the destruction of
any human sense of time. He starts up the front steps.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE IN THE PARLOR
She hears him coming up the steps o.s. She continues mending
his nightshirt. On SOUND of him coming through front door,
she glances up again and her face becomes curious, then
concerned.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- BROTHER -- (FROM HER VIEWPOINT)
as he advances into room. He is dressed in his Sunday best,
immaculate except for sweat-and-dust of immediate garden
work. His face is carefully shaven, but it has thinned and
he is very pale. The wounded jaw is not bandaged and is
virtually healed; stubble around it. There is a streak of
garden dust across the temple and up onto the bald head. He
is looking hard at Rose, but his eyes can't keep in focus.
BROTHER
(sweat pouring from
him, teeth rattling)
Why aren't you dressed, Rose? It's
time for Service.
SIDE ANGLE SHOT -- ROSE
gets up, deep concern on her face, comes quickly to him,
bringing both into SHOT, and lays a hand against his forehead.
Her reaction infers that Brother has a terribly high fever.
ROSE
You must wear your hat!
BROTHER
(teeth chattering)
Time, this minute!
Rose starts to lead and support his obstinacy, CAMERA WITH
THEM, towards his bedroom door.
ROSE
You must lie down a bit. You're not
at all well.
BROTHER
(resisting feebly but
coming along, shakily)
But it's time. It's time.
ROSE
You're not well enough. Lie down a
bit, dear.
BROTHER
Perhaps I should. I feel rather odd.
ROSE
I'll help you off with your things.
BROTHER
(in a suddenly normal
and shriveling voice;
quietly)
Rose.
She opens his door for him; he starts through.
BROTHER
(as he turns to shut
his door)
'k you?
He shuts the door in her face.
For a moment she stands outside the door as if paralyzed.
Then she starts somewhere fast.
CLOSE UP -- THEIR FORLORNLY POPULATED BOOKSHELF.
Rose hurries into the SHOT and takes down a large obsolescent-
looking Home-Medical Compodium.
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE
SHOOTING LOW across the bleak dining room table as she hustles
the big book to it and opens it. She is standing. She is
still in a painful rush through the index when o.s. there is
the NOISE of a catastrophic fall.
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE (BACK TO CAMERA)
at Brother's door. By reflex, she hesitates and raps timidly.
Instantly realizing the idiocy of this, she bursts in.
REVERSE ANGLE SHOT -- ROSE
inside Brother's bedroom, SHOOTING FROM LOW as she enters
and stands a moment transfixed by what she sees, her face
suddenly rigid and masklike with horror and pity.
CLOSE SHOT -- DOWN -- BROTHER (FROM ROSE'S VIEWPOINT)
He is piteous, absurd and ugly; sprawled out on the floor as
ill-shaped as a wounded bat, with his nightshirt partly on,
shrouding his head, and his trousers half off, trammeling
knees which are grotesquely angled. Between lowered pants
and hiked-up nightshirt, a sad, humiliating expanse of long
white drawers in this furnace weather. His feet are fouled-
up in his suspenders. The SHOT is to be both preposterous
and shocking.
CLOSE UP SHOT -- ROSE
past Brother from floor.
ROSE
(almost whispering)
Brother! Brother dear!
She rushes stooping towards him. CAMERA MOVES into CLOSE UP,
as she lifts his heavy head clearly into the SHOT and gets
it unveiled from the nightshirt. The big face looks ruined,
disgraced, dead, but a low mumbling sighing comes from him.
He is far gone.
She is about to try to lift him towards his bed when he begins
to walk; she waits and listens.
BROTHER
(eyes shut; a faint,
delirious voice)
Smite them, Lord! Smite the
Amalekites, hip and thigh!
ROSE
(whispering -- almost
by reflex)
Amen.
(with a long a)
BROTHER
So cold and so foggy. My eyes are so
tired. Where is Rose? Rose, are you
down there in the shop? Rose, bring
me a cup of hot tea.
ROSE
I'm here with you, Brother dear.
Right here beside you.
BROTHER
I try to study -- so hard. I haven't
had the start some have: 'Ebrew;
Greek -- no -- facility. If only
there were more time. Well, if I
can't pass the examinations, I can
volunteer. I can be a missionary.
Rose, too. Not comely among maidens,
but she can become a servant in the
house of the Lord. Yes, even for
such as she, God finds a goodly use.
There is deep pain on Rose's face. She almost wants to say
something, but knows the senselessness of it. She just keeps
looking at him and listening.
BROTHER
(with calm, resolve,
acceptance)
I'm going to put my books away, Rose.
I'm not going to study any more. If
I don't pass, it only means that God
has other work for me. Thy will be
done.
(in a different voice,
secret, piteous,
impassioned)
But, Lord, if it be Thy Will, O let
me distinguish myself and give me a
call here in England, right here at
home, Lord. Mother will be so proud,
Lord. Abash and put to shame all
them that revile me and persecute me
for Thy Name's sake.
(whispering; pleading)
Lord, I have tried so hard.
He is silent; she is motionless. Slowly LIFT CAMERA, losing
Brother, CENTERING ROSE IN CLOSE UP.
SLOW FADE:
FADE IN:
FULL SHOT -- MUDDY WATER -- MORNING
The screen is filled with a foamy, strongly sliding floor of
muddy water; a strong, serene freshness of water SOUND. The
SHOT is VERTICAL onto this water from perhaps three feet
above it. o.s., already loud, and loudening, the NOISE of
the engine of The African Queen.
LIFT CAMERA, picking up the launch unexpectedly close as,
slanting into broadside, she draws the letters of her name.
THE AFRICAN QUEEN
large across the SHOT.
CONTINUE LIFTING; as boat passes, we see Allnutt very briefly
and see that he is alone.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT
over SOUND of expiring engine and rattle of anchor chain,
reacting to his first sight of the vanished village. He looks
a little scared and very cautious; he has seen what was done
at the mine, and now even the smell of violence, or the echo
of its impact, makes him very uneasy. He is even dirtier and
more unshaven than when we first saw him and he looks
extremely tired.
LONG SHOT -- THE VILLAGE
what we see of it from his angle. Since he is lower than the
village, all we can see is a lot of abnormal, empty sunlight.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT (SAME AS BEFORE)
He is wary, but knows he must investigate. He goes overside,
almost out of the SHOT, stepping across a stump to shore.
SWING WITH HIM.
As he reaches the top of the low bank, TRUCK with him, MEDIUM
CLOSE, as he walks through a little of the burnt-out village.
Past him, the scorched circular blotches where the huts were;
burned and half-burned little pens and fences; ravaged
gardens. He is still careful and uneasy. Unaware of it, he
walks through this silence of devastation almost on tiptoe.
Now he raises his eyes towards the intact bungalow o.s., and
a new kind of carefulness comes into his eyes.
STOP the TRUCKING and PAN with him as he walks past and bring
in the bungalow, looking cavernous, very still, and cryptic
or menacing in the sunlight, as he walks the last few paces
towards it. He hesitates a moment at the foot of the steps.
It obviously occurs to him that he may find corpses, or nobody
at all. He starts up the steps, still walking a little
stealthily.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT
through the screen door, from inside, as he comes up the
quietly creaking steps, sensitive to the mood of a kind of
desolation different from that of the village; uneasy. He
crosses the porch very quietly, again hesitates, peers through
the gray screen door into the dark interior, and raps rather
timidly.
ROSE
(o.s., a dry quiet
voice with the calm
of exhaustion in it)
Come in, Mr. Allnutt.
Her voice startles him as much as it should ourselves. He
peers again, forehead wrinkled like a monkey's. He can't see
her. He shyly opens and comes through the door, mumbling
something apologetic and subversal.
As he catches sight of her, SWING CAMERA to RIGHT, losing
him, and PICK ROSE UP, MEDIUM CLOSE. She is past the angle
of visibility from the screen door. She is in a wicker rocking
chair, sitting quite primly, working with those rings on
which embroidering is done. She glances up at him with eyes
like fused glass -- then quickly back to her needlework. It
is clear by the over-precision of her motions, and their
rigidity and tension, that she is under great strain, but
this is to be keyed low and simple.
CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT (FROM HER ANGLE)
He watches her; he knows enough to keep quiet; he waits;
becomes aware of his muddy feet and quietly tries to clean
one against the calf and shin of the other leg.
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE (SAME AS BEFORE)
She does a couple more stitches, obtains sufficient control
of herself, and lowers the needlework into her lap.
ROSE
(quietly, as before)
Thank God you've come.
CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT (AS BEFORE)
Nobody has ever thanked God in connection with him before.
His reaction is quiet, but clearly this is a surprising and
novel experience. He says nothing.
ROSE
(o.S.) Sit down, Mr. Allnutt.
ALLNUT
Don't mind if I do.
He walks into:
TWO SHOT -- ROSE AND ALLNUTT
He sits on the edge of a chair and jockeys it, shyly, a little
nearer her.
ALLNUT
So they got here afore I did, eh?
ROSE
Yes, they got here. Just after you
left.
ALLNUT
No!
She says nothing.
ALLNUT
Couldn't a been more wrong, could I?
Bout the Germans.
ROSE
(a quieter, remote
voice)
Burning villages.
ALLNUT
That's to keep the natives from
runnin' away. No place to come back
to. Been doin' it all over, they
told me up at Limbasi. The Germans
are gonna train 'em into an army and
try to take over the whole of Africa.
ROSE
Poor helpless natives!
ALLNUT
It was the same up at the mine when
I got back from Limbasi. A clean
sweep of everything. Just plain luck
I was on the river. They could
certainly use my launch and what's
in 'er, too. Blastin' gelatine, Miss.
Eight boxes of it. An' a lot of canned
grub. An' cylinders of oxygen an'
hydrogen for that weldin' job on the
crusher. Lots o' stuff.
ROSE
(same dead voice)
Oh, trust them.
ALLNUT
But as it 'appens, I got the stuff --
an' the launch. Only I've got no
crew, an' she ain't an easy boat to
run single-'anded. Cause them two
boys o' mine just skipped in the
night. Don't know if they were scared
o' me or the Germans.
ROSE
(quietly, always)
They are fiends out of hell... His
whole life's work smashed. Ruined.
In a few minutes.
ALLNUT
The Reverend, eh?
(Rose nods)
Where's 'e now, Miss?
ROSE
(pause; quietly)
He's dead.
ALLNUT
I say, that's too bad! Pretty rough
on you, Miss.
(embarrassed; trying
to keep the ball
rolling)
What'd 'e die of, Miss?
ROSE
They killed him.
ALLNUT
(really a little
surprised and shocked)
Well, now that's just awful! If
they'll up and shoot a Reverend, who
couldn't do 'em a bit a 'arm, there
ain't nobody safe.
ROSE
They didn't shoot him, Mr. Allnutt.
But they are accountable to God just
as surely as if they had.
ALLNUT
'Ow d'you mean, Miss?
ROSE
They broke his heart. He didn't take
care of himself. He didn't want to
live.
She is looking into his eyes as if daring him to doubt or
disagree. He is timid, perceptive and kind enough not to
argue with her. After a moment, he avoids her eyes.
ALLNUT
Well, Miss that's cert'nly too bad,
that's all I can say.
(both are quiet and
he is uneasy in the
silence. Making
conversation)
When'd 'e die, Miss?
ROSE
Early this morning.
(an odd gesture)
He's in there.
ALLNUT
Hey!
ROSE
I beg your pardon?
ALLNUT
'Scuse it, Miss.
(delicately)
Wot I mean to say is -- the climate
'n all -- quicker you get 'im under
ground the better, if you don't mind
me sayin' so.
Rose nods.
ALLNUT
(getting up)
Got a shovel?
ROSE
Behind the bungalow.
ALLNUT
Right. -- Tell ya wot. While I'm
diggin' the grave, you get yer things
together, Miss -- all the things ya
want to take. Then we can clear out
of 'ere.
ROSE
Clear out?
ALLNUT
Germans might come back any time.
ROSE
Why should they? They left nothing.
ALLNUT
Oh, they'll come back, all right.
Lookin' for The African Queen. They'd
dearly love to get their 'ooks on
'er. She's the only power boat on
the river.
ROSE
Where will we go?
ALLNUT
I thought, Miss, 'ow we might find
somewhere quiet behind an island.
Then we could talk about what to do.
ROSE
(a pause; then with
quick decision)
I'll get my things ready.
ALLNUT
Fine, Miss, I'll be quick's I can.
He starts for the front door.
ROSE
Thank you, Mr. Allnutt.
ALLNUT
You'd do the same for me, Miss.
As he thinks it over, he begins to wonder, literal-mindedly,
whether she really would. He goes on out.
DISSOLVE TO:
TWO SHOT -- ROSE AND ALLNUTT -- AT THE GRAVE
They stand on opposite sides of the new grave. At its head
is an improvised cross, two pieces of wood carefully and
securely wired together.
Rose is reading the last lines of the burial service from a
Methodist or Presbyterian prayerbook.
She reads rather badly; (i.E., with the Protestant shadings
of "expressiveness") yet between the language and the conflict
between restraint and deep emotion in her voice, it is quite
moving. Allnutt, while she reads, is trying to pay polite
attention; he even says "Amen", and such, in a sheepish kind
of way. But his eyes keep sliding uneasily to the jungle;
the Germans really do worry him.
When she has finished, she stands very silent, for longer
than he can take. He tries reasonably hard, but finally he
has to speak.
ALLNUT
Well, Miss, let's get outa here while
the gettin's good.
Rose, without looking at him or at the grave, and without
speaking, walks away; he picks up his spade and follows.
MEDIUM SHOT -- ROSE AND ALLNUTT at the edge of the porch.
Rose pauses, looks over towards Brother's grave for the last
time. Allnutt stands beside her, carrying her suitcase, not
wanting to hurry her again, but wishing she'd get a move on.
MEDIUM LONG SHOT -- ROSE AND ALLNUTT -- (SHOOTING PAST THEM,
FROM THE INSIDE EDGE OF THE PORCH)
By the turn of her head, our eye is led across the scarified
clearing. We see the stunted cross and the overwhelming jungle
and, perhaps, a little of the chapel.
ROSE
(really meaning it;
but very restrained
and prim)
It was very kind of you, Mr. Allnutt,
to think of the cross.
ALLNUT
Shucks. Just seemed like he oughta
have one, him a Reverend 'n all.
Rose walks down the steps and towards the river. Allnutt
eagerly keeps pace. We SWING the CAMERA losing the grave,
and passing and losing the chapel, and centering them getting
smaller along the bare ground in the hot sunlight, bringing
in the river beyond them.
ALLNUTT'S VOICE
(o.s.)
Careful now, Miss. Watch your step.
That's right.
MEDIUM LONG SHOT -- OF AFRICAN QUEEN AT ANCHOR (SHOOTING
PAST BOW) and keeping the noisy SOUND of the water. We pick
up Rose and Allnutt as Allnutt helps her aboard. In her long
and somewhat narrow skirt she is distinctly old-maidish.
ROSE
(with the upward
English inflection --
a little as if he
had passed her a
teacup)
Thank -- you?
Allnutt steps aboard.
MEDIUM SHOT -- ROSE AND ALLNUTT Rose sits down at the rear
of the boat and looks around her. Her feet are drawn under
her and knees close together and hands lightly folded on her
knees (perhaps a lady's scrap of handkerchief in one hand),
as prim, genteel and ladylike as if, on a holiday afternoon,
she were about to be rowed across an artificial lake fifty
yards wide. And that is more or less the way she glances
about her in her new surroundings -- politely and
restrainedly, as if a little critical of a parlor somewhat
humbler than her own.
(This SHOT, at the very beginning of her voyage, is to be
quite touching, delicate and ironical, and through her very
genteelism and total unconcern for what she is up against --
an unawareness -- we begin already to sense her complete
intrepidity.)
Allnutt pauses to light up a cigarette before getting to
work. He hangs the cigarette inside his upper lip. This
cigarette, dead or alive, is a chronic fixture with Allnutt.
Allnutt kneels in the bottom of the boat and addresses himself
to the engine. He hauls out a panful of hot ashes and dumps
them overside with a sizzle and a splutter. He fills the
furnace with fresh wood from a pile beside him, and soon
smoke appears from the funnel, and we hear the ROAR of the
draught. The engine begins to sigh and splutter, and then
begins to leak gray pencils of steam. Allnutt peers at his
gauges, thrusts in some more wood, and then leaps forward
around the engine, displaying monkeyish agility in handling
more tasks than he quite has the hands or the stamina for.
With grunts and heaves of the small windlass, he hauls in
the anchor, the sweat pouring from him in rivers. We see
already that he is physically not a strong man.
Allnutt thrusts mightily at the muddy bank with a long pole,
snatches the pole on board again, and then rushes aft to the
tiller.
ALLNUT
'Scuse me, Miss.
He sweeps her aside unceremoniously (she is astonished but
quickly reassembles herself) and he puts the tiller over
just in time to save the boat from running into the bank.
CAMERA IN on Rose, resettling her plumage, and on Allnutt at
the tiller. The river bank starts to swing in square to the
stern. Their eyes are past the CAMERA.
MEDIUM SHOT -- (MOVING WITH BOAT) -- ROSE AND ALLNUTT Rose
is deeply sad and very tired, but a very quiet kind of
exhilaration is already growing in her; and still more
clearly, her calm and tremendous, unreflecting resoluteness
begins to show.
A pause.
ROSE
Mr. Allnutt.
ALLNUT
Yerss...?
ROSE
What are the chances of our getting
out through Limbasi on the railway
to the Coast?
ALLNUT
The railway was in German 'ands when
I was in Limbasi -- and by this time
Limbasi is too, I'll bet.
ROSE
Then how do we get out, Mr. Allnutt?
ALLNUT
You got me, Miss.
(after a pause)
We've got 'eaps of grub 'ere, Miss,
so we're all right, far as that goes.
Two thousand cigarettes, two cases
of gin. We could find a good 'iding
place an' stay there for months if
we want to.
Rose's astonishment at this suggestion keeps her from
replying.
ALLNUT
(rattling on)
I spose there's goin' to be a fight.
If our troops come from the sea,
they'll attack up the railway to
Limbasi, I spose. In that case, the
best thing we could do would be to
wait round down 'ere an' just go up
to Limbasi when the time came. -- On
the other 'and, they might come down
from British East, an' if they do
that we'd 'ave the Germans between
us and them all the time. Same if
they came from Rhodesia or Portuguese
East. We're in a bit of a fix,
whichever way y'look at it, Miss.
(abruptly)
Mind takin' the tiller, Miss?
Allnutt stands up and Rose takes over the tiller, holding
the iron rod resolutely. Allnutt goes to his engine and is
violently active once more. He pulls open the furnace door
and thrusts in a few sticks of fuel; then he scrambles up
into the bow and stands balanced on the cargo. The river is
studded with islands so that it appears as if there were a
dozen different channels.
ALLNUT
Port a little, Miss.
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE She is confused by the command.
ALLNUTT'S VOICE
(o.s.)
Pull it over this side, I mean. --
That's it! Steady!
MOVING SHOT -- THE LAUNCH The boat crawls up a narrow tunnel
of leaf and shade. (If color photography is used, the SHOT
would be startingly juicy and green -- many shades of green
reflected in rich brown water.)
Allnutt comes leaping back over the cargo and shuts off the
engine; the propeller stops vibrating.
Allnutt dashes into the bow again. Just as the trees (SHOOTING
PAST ROSE and her interest in it) begin apparently to move
forward again as the current overcomes the boat's way, he
lets go the anchor with a rattling CRASH, and almost without
a jerk the launch comes to a standstill.
A great silence seems to close in on them -- the silence of
a tropical river at noon. The only SOUND is the subdued rush
and gargle of the water. The sober air is filled with a
strange light -- a green light.
Allnutt turns from his work at the anchor. He and Rose look
about them and at each other, for a moment mysteriously
bemused by the stillness and by the beauty of the place. The
sudden quietness and the look of the place are richly
romantic; the two people are quieted by it, but they are
wholly unaware of any such potentiality between them. They
are just a couple of oddly assorted derelicts who hardly
even know each other, and don't care for what little they
know.
A pause.
ALLNUT
So far so good. 'Ere we are safe an'
sound, as you might say.
(he beams upon his
surroundings)
Not too bad a spot, is it, Miss, to
sit a war out in? All the comforts
of 'ome, includin' runnin' water.
He laughs at his joke and is disappointed when Rose does not
join him.
ROSE
I'm afraid, Mr. Allnutt, that what
you suggest is quite impossible.
ALLNUT
'Ave you got any ideas?
(he takes a map out
of his pocket and
hands it to her)
'Ere's a map, Miss. Show me the way
out an' I'll take it.
Rose opens the map and starts studying it.
ALLNUT
(after a while)
One thing sure; our men won't come
up from the Congo, not even if they
want to. They'd 'ave to cross the
lake, and nothin' won't cross the
lake while The Louisa is there.
ROSE
(blankly)
The Louisa? What's that?
ALLNUT
It's an 'undred-ton German steamer,
Miss, and she's the boss o' the lake
'cause she's got a six-pounder.
ROSE
What's that?
ALLNUT
A gun, Miss. The biggest gun in
Central Africa.
ROSE
I see.
ALLNUT
If it wasn't for The Louisa, there
wouldn't be nothin' to it. The Germans
couldn't last a month if our men
could get across the lake... But all
this doesn't get us any nearer 'ome,
does it, Miss? Believe me, if I could
think wot we could do...
ROSE
This river, the Ulanga, runs into
the lake, doesn't it?
ALLNUT
Well, Miss, it does; but if you was
thinkin' of goin' to the lake in
this launch -- well, you needn't
think about it any more. We can't
and that's certain.
ROSE
Why not?
ALLNUT
Rapids, Miss. Cataracts and gorges.
There's an 'undred miles of rapids
down there. Why, the river's even
got a different nyme where it comes
out on the lake to what it's called
up 'ere. It's the Bora down there.
No one knew they was the same river
until that chap Spengler --
ROSE
He got down it. I remember.
ALLNUT
Yes, Miss, in a dugout canoe. 'E 'ad
half a dozen Swahili paddlers. Map
makin', 'e was. In fact, that's 'is
map you're lookin' at. There's places
where this ole river goes shootin'
down there like out of a fire 'ose.
We couldn't never get this ole launch
through.
While he talks, Rose begins to look restive and vague, as
well as discouraged. By the time he is through, she has stood
up, CAMERA WITH HER; she hardly hears him. She strolls a
little aimlessly PAST THE CAMERA, which SWINGS TO CENTER HER
BACK as she walks forward. As if half in her sleep, she
sidesteps the engine.
REVERSE ANGLE -- ROSE (SHOOTING FROM THE BOW) as Rose
sidesteps. She walks toward CAMERA into MEDIUM CLOSE UP,
eyes glazing with dreamlike concentration. She sees something
before and below her eye-level; stops, focusing on it.
CLOSE SHOT -- (FROM ROSE'S ANGLE) -- THE GELATINE CASES not
marked or labeled as such.
ROSE'S VOICE
(o.s.)
Mr. Allnutt --
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT
ALLNUT
Yes, Miss.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE -- (FROM ALLNUTT'S ANGLE)
ROSE
What did you say is in these boxes
with the red lines on them?
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT -- (FROM ROSE'S ANGLE) lounging
and lazy.
ALLNUT
That's blastin' gelatine, Miss.
MEDIUM SHOT -- ALLNUTT AND ROSE (SHOOTING FROM BOW)
ROSE
(head towards him,
away from CAMERA)
Isn't it dangerous?
ALLNUT
Bless you, no, Miss, that's safety
stuff, that is. It can get wet and
not do any 'arm. If you set fire to
it, it just burns. You can 'it it
wiv an 'ammer and it won't go off --
at least I don't fink it will. It
takes a detonator to set it off.
I'll put it over the side if it
worries you though.
ROSE
(sharply, yet absently
as she turns into
CAMERA)
No. We may need it.
Allnutt keeps watching her idly, a little amused and very
slightly contemptuous. She wanders away from the boxes, eyes
downcast in thought, and pauses again.
ROSE
(not looking up)
Mr. Allnutt --
ALLNUT
Yeah?
INSERT -- THE STEEL CYLINDERS IN BOTTOM OF BOAT
ROSE'S VOICE
(o.s.)
And what are these queer long round
things?
MEDIUM SHOT -- THE BOW -- (PAST ROSE -- ON ALLNUTT)
ALLNUT
Them's the oxygen and hydrogen
cylinders, Miss. Ain't no good to
us, though. Next time I shift cargo,
I'll dump 'em.
CLOSER SHOT -- ROSE
ROSE
(sharply, yet still
more subconsciously
and quietly than
before)
I wouldn't do that.
She keeps looking down at them, musingly, "subconsciously,"
while CAMERA CREEPS CLOSER to her.
ROSE
They look like -- like torpedoes.
"Torpedoes" is spoken over:
INSERT -- CYLINDERS -- a new and most deadly possible looking
SHOT of the cylinders.
STILL CLOSER SHOT -- ROSE Slowly she raises her eyes from
floor angle to normal; a wild light is dawning in her eyes.
ROSE
(in the voice almost
of a medium)
Mr. Allnutt --
She turns very slowly towards him.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT -- (FROM ROSE'S ANGLE)
ALLNUT
(a little bit smug)
I'm still right here, Miss, and on a
thirty-foot boat there ain't much of
any place else I could be.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE -- (FROM ALLNUTT'S ANGLE) walking
slowly and somewhat portentously towards him.
ROSE
(full of the wild
light)
You're a machinist, aren't you? Wasn't
that your position at the mine?
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT -- (FROM ROSE'S ANGLE)
CAMERA ADVANCING on him at Rose's pace, stopping, looking
down, during his last six or eight words.
ALLNUT
(comfortably)
Yeah, kind of fixer. Jack of all
trades and master o' none, like they
say.
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE -- (FROM ALLNUTT'S ANGLE) disconcertingly
close.
ROSE
Could you make a torpedo?
ALLNUTT'S VOICE
(o.s.)
Come again, Miss?
ROSE
Could you make a torpedo.
CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT
ALLNUT
You don't really know what you're
askin', Miss. It's this way, you
see. A torpedo is a very complicated
piece of machinery what with
gyroscopes an' compressed air chambers
an' vertical and horizontal rudders
an' compensating weights. Why, a
torpedo costs at least a thousand
pounds to make.
He relaxes; his manner is "The State Rests."
SWING CAMERA to center Rose, still perched on the gunwale.
ROSE
(after a short pause;
unperturbed)
But all those things, those gyroscopes
and things, they're only to make it
go, aren't they?
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT -- (NEUTRAL ANGLE)
ALLNUT
Uh-huh. Go -- and hit what it's goin'
after.
ROSE -- (AS BEFORE)
ROSE
(at the height of her
inventiveness; the
words triumphant and
almost stumbling out)
Well! We've got The African Queen.
She stands up with these words, CAMERA RISING with her,
SHOOTING FROM A LITTLE BELOW; her eager eyes are constantly
on Allnutt.
ROSE
If we put this -- this blasting stuff --
in the front of the boat here -- and
a -- what did you say -- deno --
detonator there, why that would be a
torpedo, wouldn't it?
CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT looking up at her, greatly amused,
almost sardonically admiring her.
ROSE'S VOICE
(o.s.)
Those cylinders. They could stick
out over the end, with that gunpowder
stuff in them and the detonator in
the tips where the taps are.
ROSE -- (AS BEFORE)
ROSE
Then if we ran the boat against the
side of a ship, they'd -- well, they'd
go off, just like a torpedo.
(somewhat doubtfully,
in a return to her
submissive feminine
habit)
Wouldn't they?
TWO SHOT -- ROSE AND ALLNUTT
ALLNUT
(tremendously amused;
gravely)
That might work.
(humoring her along,
and a little taken
in by his own fondness
for makeshift)
Them cylinders'd do right enough. I
could let the gas out of 'em and
fill 'em up with the gelignite. I
could fix up a detonator all right.
Revolver cartridge'd do.
(warming up to it, as
an impossible project)
Why, sure, we could cut 'oles in the
bows of the launch, and 'ave the
cylinders stickin' out through them,
so's to get the explosion near the
water. Might turn the trick. But
what would 'appen to us? It would
blow this ole launch and us and
everything all to Kingdom come.
ROSE
I wasn't thinking that we should be
in the launch. Couldn't we get
everything ready and have a -- what
do you call it -- a good head of
steam up and point the launch toward
the ship and then dive off before it
hit? Wouldn't that do?
ALLNUT
Might work, Miss. But what are we
talkin' about, anyway. There ain't
nothin' to torpedo. 'Cause The African
Queen's the only boat on the river.
ROSE
Oh, yes there is.
ALLNUT
Is what?
ROSE
Something to torpedo.
ALLNUT
An' what's that, Miss?
ROSE
The Louisa.
ALLNUT
(on mention of The
Louisa, a blank,
silent stare of mock
amazement. Then,
patiently)
Don't talk silly, Miss. You can't do
that. Honest you can't. I told you
before we can't get down the river.
ROSE
Spengler did.
ALLNUT
In a canoe, Miss!
Rose looks stubborn.
ROSE
If a German did it, we can, too.
ALLNUT
Not in no launch. We wouldn't 'ave a
prayer.
ROSE
How do you know? You've never tried.
ALLNUT
Never tried shootin' myself through
the 'ead, neither.
(pause)
Trouble with you is, you just don't
know nothin' about boats, or water.
A pause. They look at each other, Rose much more fixedly and
searchingly than Allnutt
ROSE
In other words, you are refusing to
help your country in her hour of
need, Mr. Allnutt?
ALLNUT
I didn't say that.
ROSE
Well then --!
ALLNUT
(sighs deeply)
'Ave it your own way, Miss -- only
don't blame me, that's all.
Allnutt stands perplexed and inarticulate, his cigarette
drooping from his upper lip. His wandering gaze strays from
Rose's feet, up her white drill frock to her face; he starts
slightly at her implacable expression.
ROSE
Very well, let's get started.
ALLNUT
What! Now, Miss?
ROSE
(impatiently)
Yes, now. Come along.
ALLNUT
There isn't two hours of daylight
left, Miss.
ROSE
We can go a long way in two hours.
Allnutt starts to speak; refrains; limps over to windlass
and raises the anchor. Rose watches him. CAMERA PANS after
The African Queen as Allnutt backs her out into the channel,
then turns her nose downstream.
CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT AND ROSE
He is at the tiller -- back to CAMERA; Rose, standing looking
downstream. The Mission clearing on the bank, which they now
approach, is unobserved by both of them. Presently pencils
of steam begin coming out of the engine. Allnutt, feeling
that it requires his attention, signals to Rose, who takes
his place at the tiller. Allnutt goes to the engine and begins
to tinker.
CLOSE UP -- ALLNUTT -- (ROSE IN B.G.)
ALLNUT
A lot o' the time I'm going to 'ave
more than enough to do, keepin' the
ole engine goin.' So you might as
well start learnin' to steer right
now.
Rose nods. Her hand takes a firmer, more authoritative hold
on the tiller.
ALLNUT
(continuing)
She ain't no one-man boat, the Queen.
Not in the shape she's in.
Rose again shifts her hand a little; and she sits up very
straight with her new sense of responsibility.
ALLNUT
Know port from starboard, Miss?
ROSE
I've heard of them.
ALLNUT
Well, that's port --
(gesturing)
-- an' that's starboard.
ROSE
Isn't that a bit -- well, silly? Why
not just say left and right?
ALLNUT
Well, spose yer facin' the other way
in the boat an' I say "to the left."
You might think I meant to your left,
see, an' move to starboard. It's the
boat ya gotta think of, see? So port's
always that side --
(gesturing)
-- an' starboard, that -- an'
forrard's always up there an' aft is
where we are right now -- no matter
what way we're turned around or the
boat is headed.
ROSE
Why yes, I see. It's really quite --
sensible, isn't it?
ALLNUT
Uh huh. Okay. Now go easy, Miss --
light on the tiller. Now steer her
just a little to starboard.
Rose puts the tiller to starboard; the launch swerves a little
to port. She looks at Allnutt, bewildered. Allnutt is quietly
amused.
ALLNUT
Okay, Miss, just straighten her out
again.
(using flat hands to
demonstrate)
Now looky here. Here's yer tiller.
(he extends his right
hand)
Here's yer rudder.
(he extends his left
hand, below and beyond
his right)
They're joined. Tiller sets the
rudder, rudder steers the boat.
(he slants both hands
rigidly to one side)
ROSE
(eagerly)
Oh, I see!
Rose lifts her own hand from the tiller to show; the boat
yaws abruptly.
ALLNUT
Tiller, Miss!
Rose, startled, grabs the tiller and rights her course.
ROSE
(blushing)
Sorry.
ALLNUT
'S all right, just don't never do
that, 's all.
ROSE
Why, the water -- well -- pushes
against the rudder, where it turns,
and -- sort of drags the boat that
way. Turns it.
ALLNUT
You're catchin' on fine, Miss.
Rose looks as pleased as if she had personally invented the
rudder.
ALLNUT
Now a little to starboard, Miss.
Easy now.
(Rose does it right)
Fine. Now a little to port.
(Rose does it right)
ROSE
Is that all there is to it?
ALLNUT
Well, ya gotta know how to read the
river.
ROSE
Read?
ALLNUT
Ya gotta know the water an' what's
under it, that ya gotta steer clear
of.
ROSE
Steer clear of. Why, that's where
that expression comes from.
ALLNUT
(uninterested)
Uh huh. Mostly ya can tell it by the
surface o' the water. Now ya see
that long thing out there like a "V"
kinda?
LONG SHOT -- ACROSS THE LINE
a long, quiet "V" on the water.
ALLNUTT'S VOICE
(o.s.)
That always means a snag. Limb
stickin' up from a dead tree; likes
o' that.
TWO SHOT -- ROSE AND ALLNUTT
ALLNUT
Stay off them "Vs," they're murder.
Rose looks very seriously, almost reprimandingly, towards
the "V."
LONG SHOT -- A DIFFERENT PART OF THE RIVER
The higher light shows it is later in the morning. In the
distance, past smooth water, a choppy patch.
ALLNUTT'S VOICE
(o.s.)
Now all that little choppin', them's
shallas, Miss.
TWO SHOT -- ALLNUTT AND ROSE
Rose's eyes move from the shallows to steering; she shifts
course a little, and a long "V" trails past.
LONG SHOT -- FORWARD ALONG THE BOAT
as she resets her course.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE
her eyes to starboard. Again the light is later. Rose's face
is a shade more pleased and in bloom than before.
ROSE
(pointing)
What's that queer flat place, Mr.
Allnutt?
MEDIUM LONG SHOT -- ANOTHER PART OF THE RIVER
at medium distance off starboard bow, an odd flat turbulence
in otherwise easy water.
ALLNUTT'S VOICE
(o.s.)
That's a rock. An' it ain't only a
few inches under water. The Queen's
got a shalla draft, an' that's where
we're lucky. 'Cause anythin' ya can't
read on the surface, we're safe to
go right over it.
TWO SHOT -- ROSE AND ALLNUTT -- (HIGHER LIGHT)
The BEAT of the engine alters a little.
ALLNUT
Only thing to worry us is much of a
breeze. I reckon you know why.
The BEAT of the engine alters still more.
ROSE
It makes us -- it -- pushes the boat
around?
ALLNUT
Naw. It chops the water so --
He rushes forward to the engine.
MEDIUM SHOT -- THE ENGINE -- ALLNUTT
starts rapping the boiler's safety-valve smartly with a
wrench. After a few socks, it blows off steam.
WIDE SHOT -- THE AFRICAN QUEEN
ALLNUT
(loud, over his
shoulder, while steam
blows off)
Chops it up so bad ya can't see no
signs to warn ya.
ROSE
(louder)
Oh. Of course.
Allnutt is intently busy at the feed pump -- this time, a
brief operation. Rose watches him out; he does a little
refueling. (Wood is piled high in the waist now, drying in
the sun.)
(NOTE: From here on until indicated, no TWO SHOTS. Allnutt
is amidship, in hot sunlight; Rose, at stern, in cool, breezy
shadow of awning.)
ROSE
What was the matter, Mr. Allnutt?
ALLNUT
Feed pump choked. An' one o' my boys
dropped sumpin in the safety valve;
can't count on it, ya gotta hit it.
ROSE
What happens when the feed pump
chokes?
He finishes fueling and sits down and dries his sweat.
ALLNUT
Whole boiler can blow up. Specially
the shape she's in. This water's
awful muddy. Rots the tubes, plugs
'em up with scale. 'Sides that, the
pressure gauge is kinda on the blink.
Can't count on it fer sure, but ya
can't forget it, neither. Bring 'er
higher'n fifteen pound, the whole
engine starts fallin' apart. An'
much less'n that, she quits. Oh,
come to think of it. Know why I got
to keep the engine goin'?
ROSE
Why, so we can go, of course.
ALLNUT
That ain't wot I mean.
Rose looks blank, and interested.
ALLNUT
'Cause if the engine dies ya ain't
got enough --
ROSE
Oh. The water doesn't push against
the rudder hard enough to --
ALLNUT
(nodding approvingly)
That's right. No steerage-way. An'
in bad water that's life or death.
Rose looks at him, for the first time aware that he is as
important to navigation as she is.
ALLNUT
If you steer wrong we're goners; if
I let the engine die, we're goners,
too.
He adds another couple of pieces of wood. Rose nods, and
takes on both a sense of dignity and a sense of
interdependence.
ALLNUT
(proudly)
Oh, she's fulla tricks, this ole
engine. Even the fuelin'. Ya gotta
fuel 'er light an' steady, keep the
pressure right. An' that ain't so
easy as it sounds, Miss. 'Cause wood
makes an awful lotta ash an' chokes
yer draft. Ya gotta plan it all very
careful. Empty the ash pan, ya gotta
figure 'ow it'll change yer draft.
Ya got 'alf a dozen different kinds
o' wood an' every one burns different.
Got to figure on wot the heat o' the
sun does to the boiler, different
times o' day. An' that safety valve.
An' the water pipes keep springin'
leaks, an' the water gauge just works
when she's a mind to.
(he looks over the
whole engine with
affection)
You got to know 'ow she's feelin',
Miss -- keep a step ahead of 'er.
Right now she's got 'er best foot
forrard 'cause there's a stranger
aboard. But don't be took in, Miss.
Wait till you see 'er in a mean
streak.
He puts on a little more fuel, and lights a cigarette.
MEDIUM SHOT -- THE BOILER AND ENGINE HEAD-ON
like an altar. Allnutt lounges in one side of the SHOT like
an acolyte, and quietly watches toward Rose, steering.
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE
steering. There is something regal about the way she sits
holding the tiller, as though it were a scepter.
FADE OUT:
FADE IN:
EXT. THE RIVER -- TWILIGHT
MEDIUM LONG SHOT -- THE PROW OF THE LAUNCH
as it noses upstream along a narrow channel. A swerve and a
steadying; the prow advances into MEDIUM CLOSE UP; the anchor
starts to drop. Before it hits the water:
MEDIUM SHOT -- THE FAÇADE OF THE ENGINE
with SPLASH and RATTLE of anchor and chain o.s., as Allnutt
rushes into the SHOT and shuts off steam. The pencils of
steam abruptly fade and drift.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT
standing very attentively. PAST HIM, a wall of leaves shows
that the boat, after a couple of inches of drift, stops
gently. He still stands attentive, as if he were listening
in the abrupt new silence. He is much more grimy and sweaty
than before.
ALLNUT
It's 'ot work, ain't it, Miss? I
could do with a drink.
TWO SHOT -- ROSE AND ALLNUTT
He goes to the locker beside Rose, produces two dirty enamel
cups. Watching him, Rose frowns slightly. Then, from under
the bench he drags out a wooden case. From the case he brings
out a bottle. He opens the bottle, proceeds to pour a liberal
portion into one of the cups.
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE
watching with a kind of fascination.
CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT
as he makes a movement with the bottle toward the second
cup.
ALLNUT
'Ave one, Miss?
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE
ROSE
(horrified whisper)
What is it?
ALLNUTT'S VOICE
(o.s.)
Gin, Miss. And there's only river
water to drink it with.
ROSE
(appalled)
No!
MEDIUM CLOSE UP OF ALLNUTT -- (ROSE'S VIEWPOINT)
He dips the empty mug overside. He turns back straight and,
with care, decants the water into the gin.
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE
She is in conflict between her intensifying fascination, and
her sense of actually watching something forbidden and even
outrageous. Impulses play through her, covertly suggested in
her face, to protest, to appeal to his better nature, even
to snatch the drink from him. And now a new shading enters
her face. All she has seen up to now as mere preparation for
sin: now she is witnessing Sin itself. Something related to
fear begins to enter her face.
CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT -- (FROM ROSE'S ANGLE)
He slaps casually at a mosquito, and lifts the mug for a
second swig.
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE
eyes still more fixed, fascinated and full of wild doubts
and suppositions.
CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT -- (FROM ROSE'S ANGLE)
Allnutt lowers the mug. Happier now than before, he glances
at Rose in an impersonal way; looks away; looks back in doubt
at her, mildly puzzled by what he sees, but not interested.
STILL CLOSER SHOT -- ROSE
as she watches him very sharp. She is puzzled by how quiet
and peaceable he is, but she knows better than to trust him.
She is waiting for the trouble she is sure is bound to come. -
o.s., Allnutt hiccups slightly. She tightens and withdraws a
little more, then comes to a standstill.
CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT (FROM ROSE'S VIEWPOINT)
He looks up again, a little more puzzled.
ALLNUT
Somethin' the matter, Miss?
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE
ROSE
(shortly)
No.
ALLNUTT -- (AS BEFORE)
Still a bit puzzled, he raises his mug and finishes his drink
off. Across this nice, long drink:
TWO SHOT -- ROSE AND ALLNUTT
Rose's whole body and posture is as withdrawn, pinched and
tense as her face.
ALLNUT
(setting down his cup)
Now, Miss, 'ow 'bout some tea?
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE
By the way she lets out a long, long-held breath, we realize
for the first time the extremity of tension she has been
under.
PULL AWAY to INCLUDE ALLNUTT, as Rose relaxes all over, all
but trembling, between relief and her ravenous need for tea.
ROSE
(able to speak now)
Ohhh! Yes!
CAMERA PANS with Allnutt as he goes over to the boiler. He
draws hot water into the two cups, then places them on the
bench before her and makes tea.
ALLNUT
(stirring)
'Course it tastes a bit rusty, but
you can't 'ave everything.
(a little formally)
Sugar, Miss?
ROSE
(also a little formally)
'k you?
ALLNUT
(a little bit caught
by her tea-party
manner; bashfully)
don't mention it.
Allnutt brings out a lantern and lights it. They both drink.
She takes a ladylike trial sip; then really guzzles as never
before. Sweat starts out on her forehead and she shuts her
eyes. Across her bringing down the cup:
ROSE
(in a tea-wet voice,
more relaxed and
female than at any
time before)
It's simply delicious!
TWO SHOT -- ROSE AND ALLNUTT
ALLNUT
(surprised, and
somewhat pleased)
Not 'alf bad, is it!
He tastes his again. Living to himself, he has not been much
interested in taste and such.
Rose sets down her cup and, angling her sharp, long-sleeved
elbows high, extracts a long pin from her hat, lays it beside
her and lifts the big, dark hat from her head and lays that
beside her too, and carefully thrusts the pin back into the
hat and briefly tidies her tight hair. Then, picking up her
cup again, she drains the last of her tea.
ROSE
(holding out her cup)
If you please?
ALLNUT
Right.
(he starts the business
of making tea again)
'Ow long you been out 'ere, Miss?
ROSE
Almost ten years.
ALLNUT
You're from the midlands, ain't you?
ROSE
Manchester.
ALLNUT
Ever get 'omesick?
He goes over and gets crackers and tinned meat out of the
locker.
ROSE
Every day of my life.
ALLNUT
I'd give my eye teeth to be back on
a Saturday night, rubbin' elbows
like they say -- all the jostlin'
an' the noise an' the music -- ain't
nothin' can touch it for cheering a
chap up.
ROSE
It's always Sunday afternoons I think
of -- the peace and quiet.
They are eating the meat and crackers as they talk.
ALLNUT
I don't remember very much about the
Sundays. I was always sleeping it
off.
They finish eating. For a few seconds they listen to the
quiet soliloquy of the water.
ALLNUT
(continuing)
Didn't see no crocodiles in this
arm, Miss, did you?
ROSE
Crocodiles? No.
ALLNUT
No shallas for 'em here. An' current's
too fast.
(he coughs, a little
self-consciously)
I could do with a bath, 'fore supper.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE
ROSE
(spontaneous,
unconsidered)
I'd like one too.
She is a little surprised at herself, but not troubled.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT
ALLNUT
(getting up)
I'll go up in the bows an' hang onto
the anchor chain. You just stay back
'ere an' do what you like to, Miss.
Then, if we don't look, it won't
matter.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE
She is semi-aware of a change in herself, but still
irresistibly spontaneous.
ROSE
Very well.
MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT -- ALLNUTT -- (PAST ROSE)
ALLNUT
(hesitant)
Well...
ROSE
(coolly)
Very well, Mr. Allnutt.
He walks towards the bow, sidestepping the engine. Bring up
SOUND of water a little.
REVERSE ANGLE -- ROSE
Rose looks after him, checking the six-inch width of the
funnel which will stand between them; not much concerned.
While she watches, she is undoing her dress at its cuffs and
at its high neck. She stands and takes it off over her head
with a voluminous motion. She starts to remove an undergarment
and hesitates, frowning a little; compresses her lips and,
clearly, decides not to remove the garment.
CLOSE SHOT -- THE FUNNEL
centered, in the lamplight. The water SOUND rises another
fraction; other SOUNDS fade a little.
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE'S FEET IN THE WATER --
not more than shin-deep. (She is sitting on the gunwale.)
The water distorts and drives and sways them a little and
she is moving them gently.
CLOSE UP -- ROSE (HEAD AND SHOULDERS)
Her head bent forward, she is watching and quietly enjoying
her feet in the water.
There is a little NOISE o.s.; her eyes slip a little in the
direction of the bow.
TAIL-OF-THE-EYE SHOT -- PAST ENGINE AND FUNNEL
A dim grayish-white shape lowers itself over the bow.
ROSE -- (AS BEFORE)
eyes not too quickly forward. She is not shocked, excited,
or self-conscious; just calmly interested. (o.s., prodigious
KICKINGS and SPLASHINGS and WHOOSHINGS as Allnutt takes his
bath.) Slowly her head goes lower in the SHOT and her head
and shoulders begin to twist as she turns to cling to the
gunwale. Bring up WATER SOUND a little. As she lets her body
loose into the water, CAMERA SWINGS loose along it; it is
clear as she lengthens out and submerges that she is wearing
bloomers and camisole.
CLOSE SHOT -- ROSE'S FACE -- (PAST HER HANDS)
clinging to the low, stern gunwale, as her arms stretch.
There is a deep and delicate sensuous enjoyment in her face;