Ed Wood
BELA I know none of my wives would’ve.
Ed laughs. Bela puffs his cigar.
BELA Eddie, I want to thank you. These last few days have been a good time.
ED I just wish you coulda seen the movie.
BELA No problem. I know it by heart…
Bela stops walking. And in a BOOMING, THEATRICAL VOICE, he suddenly launches into his impassioned, climactic speech from “Bride Of The Monster.”
BELA “Home. I have no home. Hunted… despised… living like an animal — the jungle is my home! But I will show the world that I can be its master. I shall perfect my own race of people… a race of atomic supermen that will conquer the world!”
Ed is touched.
A few people around them APPLAUD.
Bela’s face lights up, proud. An awed MIDWESTERN TOURIST hands him a pen and paper.
TOURIST Mr. Lugosi, could I have your autograph?
BELA Certainly.
TOURIST Boy, that was incredible. You’re just as good an actor as you always were.
Bela puffs out his chest majestically.
BELA Better. (beat) I’m seventy-four, but I don’t know it. If the brain is young, then the spirit is still vigorous… like a young man.
Bela turns and smiles wanly at Ed.
Ed smiles back.
CUT TO:
INT. ED’S KITCHEN – NIGHT
Ed and Kathy stand in his kitchen, making dinner. She sticks her finger in a pot.
KATHY Ed, this spaghetti sauce is delicious.
ED Thanks. It’s actually the only thing I know how to make. (he motions) Hey, can you grab that strainer?
She holds a strainer. Ed pours the spaghetti over it.
Suddenly the PHONE rings. Ed groans.
ED Ugh! Always at the wrong time. (he ANSWERS the phone) Hello?
He listens.
And then, he gets a very somber expression.
ED Oh no…
Ed HANGS UP the phone. He looks pained.
KATHY What was that?
ED (quiet) Bela died.
CUT TO:
INT. FUNERAL HOME – DAY
It’s Bela’s funeral.
Ed sits crying in the front row, with Kathy at his side.
All Bela’s friends are there. They’re very subdued.
THE CASKET
Bela lies inside, made up in his full Dracula outfit. His hair is died black, and he wears the famous cape.
EXT. HOLY CROSS CEMETERY – DAY
On a grassy hill, Bela is laid to rest. The small crowd of mourners stands silhouetted against the dark gray clouds.
The coffin is lowered into the ground. Ed stands at the front, silently watching.
AT A DISTANCE
A few TABLOID PHOTOGRAPHERS snap pictures.
PHOTOGRAPHER #1 Whose crazy idea was it to bury him in the cape?
PHOTOGRAPHER #2 I heard it was in the will. It was how he wanted to be remembered.
CUT TO:
INT. SCREENING ROOM – DAY
Ed is alone in a darkened screening room, depressed.
Playing on the SCREEN is the last footage of Bela: Bela stumbles around in front of his house and smells the flower.
Ed drinks out of a flask.
The film runs out. A VOICE comes over a loudspeaker.
VOICE Do you want me to run it again?
Ed silently nods.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. ED’S APARTMENT – NIGHT
Ed’s apartment has gone to hell. Ed is in a robe, unshaven and clutching a bottle of whiskey. Newspapers are everywhere.
Bela’s and Ed’s dogs eat out of the trash.
Kathy tries to straighten things up. Ed stares listlessly.
ED I’d seen him in a coffin so many times, I expected him to jump out…
KATHY Ed, you’ve got to snap out of this. Bela’s dead — you’re not!
ED I might as well be. I made shitty movies that nobody wanted to see. (beat) I blew it. All he wanted was a comeback… that last glory…
KATHY Well you tried —
ED (angry) I was a fuckin’ HACK! I let people recut the movies, cast their relatives… (beat) I let Bela down…
CUT TO:
EXT. ED’S APARTMENT BUILDING – DAY
A new Studebaker pulls up. A bumper sticker says “JESUS SAVES”
A man in a plain brown suit steps out. This is J. EDWARD REYNOLDS, 50, Ed’s santironious southern Christian landlord. Reynolds assertively bangs on Ed’s front door.
REYNOLDS Mr. Wood?!
ED (O.S.) Hruphh…?
REYNOLDS Mr. Wood, this is Mr. Reynolds, your landlord. Could you please open up?
The door opens a crack. Bleary Ed peers out.
ED Yeah…?
REYNOLDS Mr. Wood, you have bounced your third and final rent check.
ED (he sloppily lies) I’m real sorry. My stockbroker must have transferred the wrong account… C’mon in, I’ll write you another one.
INT. APARTMENT – SAME TIME
Ed motions Reynolds in. Reynolds peers unsurely at the tornado inside. Then he notices a framed one-sheet for “BRIDE OF THE MONSTER.” Reynolds admires it.
REYNOLDS Hmm, so you’re in the picture business?
ED (rummaging for a check) You could say that —
REYNOLDS I’m interested in the picture business. My associates and I wish to produce a series of uplifting religious films, on the Apostles. But unfortunately, we don’t have enough money.
ED (distracted) Raising money is tough.
REYNOLDS Oh! Our church has the money for one film. We just don’t have it for all twelve…
ANGLE – ED
His eyes suddenly pop.
The color comes back to his fact. A plan is quickly boiling over inside Ed’s head. He starts feverishly pacing around.
ED Okay — you know what you do? You produce a film in a commercially proven genre. And after it’s a hit, you take the profits from that, and make the twelve Apostles’ movies.
REYNOLDS Would that work?
ED Absolutely! You see this script..?
Ed randomly grabs a script off the messy floor, then glances down, to see which one he picked up. It says “Graverobbers From Outer Space.”
ED “Graverobbers From Outer Space”! It’s money in the bank.
REYNOLDS Graverobbers from what??
