Sleepy Hollow Shooting Script
used with courtesey of Daily Script
Sleepy Hollow
Being the true storie of one Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman
Kevin Yagher and Andrew Kevin Walker
Based on “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” by Washington Irving
Screenplay by Andrew Kevin Walker
Sleepy Hollow
Being the true storie of one Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman
Kevin Yagher and Andrew Kevin Walker
Based on “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” by Washington Irving
Screenplay by Andrew Kevin Walker
and
Tom Stoppard
Shooting Draft 9/29/98
A pleasing land of drowsy head it was, of dreams that wave before the half shut eye…
NOTE: THE HARD COPY OF THIS SCRIPT CONTAINED SCENE NUMBERS AND SOME “OMITTED” SLUGS. THEY HAVE BEEN REMOVED FOR THIS SOFT COPY.
EXT. CITY STREETS-NIGHT
Empty cobblestone streets are bordered by stately buildings. A rapidly CLANGING BELL breaks the silence from afar.
INSERT TITLE: New York City 1799
TWO CONSTABLES clamor around a corner, lanterns held high, listening. They disappear down an alleyway.
EXT. CITY WATERFRONT-NIGHT
ELSEWHERE, piers border the Hudson. The BELL is LOUDER here. The two constables arrive, searching, pistols drawn.
CONSTABLE ONE Where are you?!
MAN’S VOICE (O.S.) Here… ! Over here!
The constables hurry to the river’s edge…
Down an embankment, the MAN, another constable, has his back to us. He’s waist deep in dark water, throwing aside his ALARM BELL, struggling to pull something from the murk…
MAN I need your help with this.
Constable Two and Constable One move forward, wary.
CONSTABLE ONE Constable Crane? Ichabod Crane… is that you?
The MAN turns. Meet ICHABOD CRANE, handsome, eyes piercing but nervous and unsettled.
ICHABOD None other, and not only me… (returns to lifting) I have found something…
Ichabod drags a bloated MALE CORPSE out from the water. He backs away, shaken, looks to the constables…
ICHABOD (CONT’D) … which was lately a man.
INT. CITY WATCHHOUSE, JAIL-NIGHT
In a dank, cavernous room, the distinguished HIGH CONSTABLE lifts a blanket off the corpse in a wheelbarrow manned by Constable Two. Constable One and Ichabod are near, watching.
HIGH CONSTABLE Burn it.
CONSTABLE ONE Yes, sir.
Constable Two wheels the corpse down a RAMP to another room.
ICHABOD Just a moment, if I may… we do not yet know the cause of death.
HIGH CONSTABLE When you find ’em in the river, cause of death is drowning.
ICHABOD Possibly so if there is water in the lungs, but… by pathology we might determine whether or not he was dead when he went into the river.
HIGH CONSTABLE Cut him up? Are we heathens? Let him rest in peace-in one piece as according to God and the New York Department of Health.
Ichabod is about to protest, but stops himself, frustrated.
Two THUGGISH CONSTABLES-different ones-bring in a bleeding SEMICONSCIOUS MAN.
HIGH CONSTABLE (CONT’D) What happened to him?
THUGGISH CONSTABLE Nothing, sir. Arrested for burglary.
The constables throw him against the bars of the slammer while one of them opens the cage door. With their leather truncheons, the cops beat their prisoner into the cage and lock him in.
HIGH CONSTABLE Good work…
Ichabod hurries to follow his two constables and the corpse.
EXT. CITY WATCHHOUSE-DAY
The metropolis thrives; horsedrawn vehicles plodding, MEN, WOMEN and CHILDREN, MERCHANTS and TRADESMEN everywhere.
MEN are held in chains and gibbets in front of the Watchhouse.
INT. CITY WATCHHOUSE, JAIL-DAY
We enter midway into a “Audition Scene.” A row of CITY OFFICIALS are “auditioning” APPLICANTS (mostly obvious Cranks and Eccentrics) with Devices for crime fighting and crime solving. The Applicants are crowded together to one side, waiting their turn. Ichabod, holding only papers and books, is among them.
“On Stage” at this moment is an INVENTOR demonstrating his invention, of which more in a moment. Facing the “stage” is the BURGOMASTER, flanked by the HIGH CONSTABLE (who has a list of names) and various MAGISTRATES and ALDERMEN.
The Inventor is demonstrating a combination wallet and mousetrap.
INVENTOR … and in a few weeks, the plague of pickpockets will be a thing of the past!
He shows how to set the trap-spring.
INVENTOR (CONT’D) Give me a dozen constables in gentleman’s dress…
He pockets the wallet-trap.
INVENTOR (CONT’D) … mixing with the crowds where pickpockets are rife!
He produces a fake hand-on-a-stick and does the business.
INVENTOR (CONT’D) A stealthy hand dips into the gentleman’s pocket… and-!
There is the sound of the trap snapping shut and the Inventor withdraws the fake hand with its fingers chopped off. The Officials wince, impressed.
BURGOMASTER Thank you. We will take your device under consideration, Mr. Vanderbilt… Next!
A SPOTTY MAN starts dragging a man-sized cage contraption to center stage… while Ichabod tries to get the attention of the Officials.
ICHABOD Gentlemen! -the Millennium is almost upon us-In a few months we will be living in the nineteenth century-!
HIGH CONSTABLE Wait your turn, Constable Crane- ICHABOD These devices are unworthy of a modern civilization…
BURGOMASTER Quiet! -Next, I say!
SPOTTY MAN Thank you, sir!
He turns proudly to his man-size cage, whose front hinges down for ingress.
The floor of the cage is a steel plate. A “writting board” for signing confessions is attached to the inside of the cage.
SPOTTY MAN (CONT’D) The Tomkins self-locking Confessional is cheap at the price and will last for years with just an occasional wipe with a damp cloth… When the villain steps on the floor plate…
Ichabod, dropping books and papers around his feet, is feverishly writing on a blank page (his “traveling inkpot” is hung around his neck).
ICHABOD (pointing to the Spotty Man) Arrest that man!
HIGH CONSTABLE (jaw dropped) Arrest… ?
ICHABOD I accuse him of murder!
SPOTTY MAN What the devil are you talking about, you loon?!
Ichabod takes two steps toward him and gives him a violent shove in the chest. The Spotty Man staggers back into his cage, which self- locks, and at the same time a head clamp descends from the top, gripping the Spotty Man’s head. His arms flail about as he yells. Ichabod slaps his page on the writing board, offers his pen.
ICHABOD Sign here!
SPOTTY MAN (groaning and pointing) The release handle…
ICHABOD Not till you confess… !
Uproar around him, Ichabod waits as the prisoner signs the paper, then pulls the “release handle.”
ICHABOD (CONT’D) (waving the confession) I have here a confession to the murder of a man I fished out of the river last night!
HIGH CONSTABLE (furious) Stand down!
ICHABOD I stand up, for sense and justice! Our jails overflow with men and women convicted on confessions worth no more than this one!
The High Constable bangs a gavel until he gets some silence for the Burgomaster. Meanwhile, the Spotty Man is rescued by his friends.
BURGOMASTER Constable, this is a song we have heard from you more than once but never before with this discordant accompaniment. I have two courses open to me. First, I can let you cool your heels in the cells until you learn respect for the dignity of my office…
ICHABOD I beg pardon. I only meant well. Why am I the only one who sees that to solve crimes, to detect the guilty, we must use our brains? -to recognize vital clues, using up-to- date scientific- BURGOMASTER (interrupting) Which brings me to the second course. Constable Crane, there is a town upstate, two days’ journey to the north in the Hudson Highlands. It is a place called Sleepy Hollow. Have you heard of it?
ICHABOD I have not.
