FADE IN:
SUPERIMPOSE: PARIS 1890
EXT. PARIS - NIGHT
Ghostly CHIAROSCURO of the Paris SKYLINE.
EXT. RUE D'AUSEIL - NIGHT
ANDRE (V.O.)
The music I still hear...
(beat)
I should never have taken the room
in the pension.
(beat)
The Rue d'Auseil never existed. I
have searched for years and never
located a street corner or house
that I remembered in which the
music of Erich Zann overshadowed
us.
FROST lingers on the thick cobblestones.
The NIGHT is heavy with silence.
No sounds heard as the dilapidated PENSIONS come into view.
Most of the buildings appear on the point of collapse.
There are PAVING STONES and COBBLESTONES covering the roads.
Long SHADOW of a PROSTITUTE, (20s), stands in one doorway.
We never see her face, except her mouth.
It opens slightly and her BLACKENED TOOTH STUMPS are seen.
The AIR of NEGLECT is prevalent. Widespread poverty
everywhere.
NIGHT SKY casts no NEW MOON.
The streets are not asymmetrical.
(0.S.), FOOTSTEPS echo. RAUCOUS, DRUNKEN SINGING.
A DIMINUTIVE FIGURE rounds one corner.
PERTURBED. He glances backward and sees the street has
changed.
CALM. He makes eventual progress up the incline toward the
steps.
He ignores these. Continues to walk past them.
ERICH ZANN, (80s), DISHEVELLED, wears the clothes of a
pauper. His FROCK COAT is threadbare. His cap sits
uncomfortably on his head. Long strands of grey hair fall
onto his shoulders.
He clutches his VIOLA CASE tightly.
STOPS. HESITANT.
(O.S.), a haunting HUNGARIAN FOLK SONATA plays.
The chords are rhapsodic, almost as if the violinist is in
the grips of sexual ecstasy.
Zann shakes his head. DESPONDENT.
He leans against the building. TIRED. Eyes close.
INSERT CUT: Zann, though weary, face gaunt, plays subtly in
the café. None of the patrons pay any attention to him as he
passes between the tables, where there is just laughter and
conversation.
ZANN (V.O.)
They will never understand.
He regains his composure and walks slowly.
There are SHADOWS CONVERGING, as the pensions block the
remaining light from the GAS LAMPS.
Zann falters again.
Always LISTENS.
Next step he takes, he stumbles.
His ARTHRITIC hands seen as he rises to his feet.
EYES WATERING, he does not see the street where he lodges.
He holds the viola case tenderly, as if his swollen fingers
wish to play it.
Still unsure as he stares at the darkened ALLEYS that have
appeared.
(O.S.), a CENTIME rolls on the cobblestones toward him.
Zann takes a step back. FEARFUL.
He wipes SPITTLE from his mouth as he shakes in fear.
LIGHT, from a CANDLE, appears briefly from a darkened window
before it fades.
SOFT RAIN falls.
Still no activity on the STREET, except for the centime that
begins to oscillate in the gutter by Zann's feet.
The silver from the molten coin changes into a puddle of
clear water that shows IMAGES of the EIFFEL TOWER and NOTRE
DAME CATHEDRAL.
Zann's POV as he watches.
The scene now changes to a YOUNGER ZANN,(30s), violin under
his chin, as he plays the HUNGARIAN SONATA heard earlier.
He plays majestically, with sinister UNDERTONES.
He is in the THROES of ECSTASY as he continues playing.
SEMI-PARALYSED, Zann tries to avert his gaze.
ZANN (V.O.)
(fearful)
I will never play this sonata
again.
(beat)
It will mean madness or death for
those who succumb to its allure.
He sees his aged FACE repeating the words back to him from
the puddle.
RIPPLES appear across the puddle as it inverts itself,
disappearing into a PIN PRICK of LIGHT that blinds Zann.
ZANN
(with sadness)
I have given you my all and you
still taunt me!
(angry)
Damn you!
(beat)
No-one ever leaves here.
(MORE)
ZANN (CONT'D)
I am alone and forgotten.
(beat)
The Rue d'Auseil is a labyrinth for
the damned.
He closes his eyes. Breathes deep.
When he opens them, he finds he is outside by the steps of
his PENSION.
CRUMBLING MASONRY from the building falls near him.
He looks at his GARRET ROOM at the top of the building.
Its GABLED WINDOWS appear open.
Zann blinks.
An ILLUSION.
Zann stares at the worn viola case.
SENSES he is being watched.
He turns and sees a MANGY MONGREL, with TWO SPECTRAL YOUNG
CHILDREN, watching him from the opposite side of the street.
FEARFUL, he turns. STIFFENS.
Tries to back away from the door when a FISH HOOK pierces his
right-hand and drags him towards the rotting doorway.
The pain is intense, as the hook bites deep into his hand.
BLOOD drips onto the steps.
He has no option but to open the door.
As soon as his hand touches the DOOR KNOB, the fish hook
disappears.
Zann stares at his hand.
He sees there is no WOUND at all.
Hand shakes as he closes the door.
WEARY, he looks at the stairs he has to ascend as, (O.S), he
hears BLANDOT, (60s), his landlord, speaking with ANDRE,
(20s), a STUDENT.
He puts his ear to the door to listen.
BLANDOT
You are on the fifth floor, my
young friend, and you claim you can
hear the old man's music?
(beat)
He has even offered to pay the
difference for a better room if you
find his caterwauling too much.
ANDRE
(sharp)
I don't believe you.
(beat)
The music is wondrous.
(beat)
I have studied music at the
conservatoire and this is the first
time I heard a maestro.
BLANDOT
(murmurs)
Others have said the same and they
have never returned to their rooms.
(beat)
You should be careful for what you
wish for.
ANDRE
(eager)
He is adroit at sonata, partita, or
caprice.
(beat)
Why are you reluctant to speak of
his past, Monsieur Blandot?
BLANDOT
(hesitant)
He's a rum one, that's all
(beat)
All I have heard are rumours,
Andre.
(beat)
He shot his wife's lover in a duel
and the woman cut her throat
afterwards.
(angry)
You should not stay here, Andre.
(beat)
This is an abyss.
Zann emotionless.
Moves his head from the door as the voices continue
speaking,(O.S.).
ZANN (V.O.)
(sighs)
I am a lapsed Catholic and will
suffer for my sins.
(beat)
I had to defend my honour,
Constance.
FLASHBACK SEQUENCE
- Zann paces off from his opponent,aims, and kills him with
his first shot. He shows no emotion as his opponent's
followers gather around the stricken man -
- Zann stops outside the bedroom door. There is no sound from
within. The door is ajar. He pushes it, stops proceeding in,
when he notices blood that has soaked into the carpet -
END FLASHBACK
SEQUENCE
PLASTER on the walls rots. The CEILING is water damaged.
He walks upstairs.
(O.S.), NOISES from other rooms.
Zann's strength appears to return as he is halfway upstairs.
Shakes his head.
ZANN
(tired)
I should offer encouragement to
young Andre.
(beat)
He has the skill and will play in
the orchestra at the Paris Opera
House.
He reaches the top of the stairs and notices DRIED VOMIT on
the floorboards.
The prone body of a STEVEDORE, (40s), lies by the door of one
room.
DISGUSTED.
Zann tries to step over him as the stevedore's eyes open.
STEVEDORE
(gentle)
He put the missive on the table in
your room.
(beat)
You abused your especial gift,
Zann.
(beat)
The sonata you so detest is
remembered in the future and people
will become insane while they
listen.
The stevedore's eyes close.
(O.S.), he hears Andre speaking with him.
ANDRE
I live just above you, Monsieur
Zann. I was most fortunate to find
these rooms, for it means I have
less distance to walk to the
conservatoire.
(beat)
If this is an imposition, I
apologize. The music you play is
not of this world.
(beat)
May I listen one evening to your
playing?
(beat)
I did not know you could not speak.
Andre's voice fades.
Zann looks down to the hallway to see that Blandot's door is
still closed.
ZANN
(sad)
We will meet, Andre, but not in
this life. None of this is yet to
occur.
He continues his slow walk to the next flight of stairs.
Genres:
Ratings
Scene
2 -
The Viola's Last Song
INT. GARRET ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Zann takes the key out of his pocket, inserts it in the
keyhole, and turns it.
There is no sound as he enters the room.
He holds his hand to his mouth because of the STALE ODOUR.
He is seen in the PARTIAL MOONLIGHT from the GABLED WINDOW
putting his viola case on the bed.
He sits on the bed, shoulders slumped.
The room is threadbare. Dust motes float in the air.
A wardrobe in one corner, a writing table, with sheafs of
paper on it, and uneaten food.
On the bedside table is a candle that Zann lights as he
stands up.
CIRCUMSPECT.
He stares at the BEE HIVE SHAPED ceiling to see if anything
is amiss.
His lingering glance at the gabled windows and shutters tells
of secrets.
ZANN (V.O.)
(subdued)
He has been here.
(beat)
There will be a difference in his
appearance when we next meet.
The SHUTTERS on the window bang. Zann is alert.
He watches for further movement before he relaxes.
TURNING, he holds the candle as he stares at the VELUM
ENVELOPE on writing bureau.
Ponders.
Does not pick up the envelope.
ZANN
(angry)
I made no concordance with
Nyarthlotep for this infernal gift
that plagues me! You gave me a
voice to speak with and that was
all.
(calm)
I have no fear of what becomes of
my soul.
He touches the top sheet of the sheaf of papers.
ZANN (CONT'D)
Will Andre understand my failings
if he reads this?
(sighs)
It ends one way or another very
soon.
(hesitant)
What I fear most is seeing my
beloved Constance once more.
(beat)
I had to defend my honour.
SUBDUED. Bows his head.
When he looks up, his eyes are hypnotic, controlled by
another.
NEITHER of his HANDS show traces of rheumatoid arthritis.
They are now the hands of a younger man as he takes his viola
from its case and begins to play as a man possessed.
With sweeping movements of the bow, he glides around the
bedroom as if he plays the music of something unattainable.
The GLASS on the window panes are infused the with COLOURS of
a resurgent dawn.
The COLOURS spiral as if it is the IRIS of an INTELLIGENT
CREATURE that watches Zann's manoeuvres.
The BURGEONING AURA illuminates the bedroom.
Zann is in a FRENZY.
He does not see the FAUNS and CENTAURS that carouse around
him.
There is a response to his CRESCENDO.
The windows open, as the shutters rattle.
Zann still plays.
The haunting sonata is influenced by the COLD BREEZE as
another presence is evident.
BREATHLESS, perspiring.
Zann hears, (O.S.), footsteps of the future outside his
bedroom door and the whistling of his earlier HUNGARIAN
SONATA.
Someone tries to turn the DOOR KNOB.
ZANN (V.O.)
You must not enter, Andre!
INSERT CUT: Zann, hurrying across the street, is met by
Andre. Andre wishes to speak with him, but Zann gives him a
fearful look. Brushes past him.
TORMENTED. Eyes close.
He hears, (O.S), the mocking laughter of NYARTHLOTEP.
They communicate telepathically.
NYARTHLOTEP
The boy has already witnessed your
death.
(almost whispers)
The testimony you wrote of the old
ones and was going to allow Andre
to read caused your pitiful death.
INSERT CUT: Andre falls down the stairs as he flees Zann's
bedroom. He reaches the hallway, fearful, pale, doesn't look
backward, as he throws open the front door, and stumbles into
the street.
The pages of Zann's TESTIMONY falls to the floorboards and
are gathered by the strengthening BREEZE that carries them
through the windows over the SKYLINE of the garret roof.
Zann's POV: he sees the varied multitude of TENTACLED BEASTS
that watch him with MYRIAD EYES in the SWIRLING AURAS.
This SEMBLANCE is the world that Zann will enter as it
forever changes.
Zann hears their DISCORDANT FUGUE.
The SHADES of the BEASTS appear on the walls as they GYRATE
in a parody of a PASTORAL DANCE.
Zann plunges onto a chair as he still plays.
He has no control over what he does.
The FURY of this paroxysm takes its toll.
His body trembles.
Last HOARSE BREATH.
He is DEAD.
He stares.
EYES VACANT.
His grip slackens on the bow as it slips from his grasp.
The MUSIC, from this NEW COSMOS, swirls around the dead man.
It SCRAPES his SOUL from his body.
THIN SKEINS of rising MIST sail through the open window.
NIGHT SKY is a new COSMOS.
There is MUSIC that eddies on a STREAM of SOULS into the
ABYSS that awaits them.
The CANDLE blows itself out.
FADE TO BLACK