Nightmare on Elm Street
I think you should keep Nancy at home a few days. ‘Til she’s really over the shock.
MARGE I got something better… (to NANCY)
I’m gonna get you help, baby. So no one will threaten you any more.
She takes the girl by the arm and guides her into the car, locking the door from outside. NANCY never taking her eyes from her father’s as the car bears her away.
FADE TO BLACK
BURN ON:
THE FIFTH DAY
107. EXT. UCLA SCHOOL OF MEDICINE. DAY. 107.
FADE UP ON UCLA’s WESTWOOD CAMPUS and PAN TO SIGN:
UCLA SCHOOL OF MEDICINE INSTITUTE FOR THE STUDY OF SLEEP DISORDERS
108. INT. A LABORATORY SLEEPING CHAMBER. 108.
A NURSE applies sencors to the head, breast, arms, and fingers of NANCY THOMPSON. The girl is lying on a simple broad cot, in her pajamas. The room is subdued in color and holds only this single bed. A large mirror set into one wall hides an observation room beyond.
NANCY But I just don’t feel… ready to sleep yet. Please, do I have to?
109. WIDER, REVEALING DR SAMUEL KING, a young, curly-haired internist; 109. intelligent and wry. He treats NANCY at all times like a young
adult, never patronizing. He winks as the NURSE finishes.
DR KING Don’t worry, you’re not gonna change into Bride of Frankenstein or anything.
NANCY manages a smile, but she’s haggard and visibly thinner. MARGE, background, looks downright distraught.
DR KING (CONTD) Nancy have any severe childhood illnesses? Scarlet Fever? High temperatures — concussions?
MARGE No, nothing.
NANCY He means, did you ever drop me on my head.
The doctor and girl share a nervous laugh; MARGE doesn’t even smile.
DR KING Nightmares are expected after psychological trauma. Don’t
worry, they go away.
MARGE I sure as hell hope so.
NANCY I don’t see why you couldn’t
just give me a pill to keep me from dreaming…
DR KING Everyone’s got to dream. If you don’t dream, you go… (he drills his finger
at his temple) All set?
NANCY No.
MARGE
They’re just simple tests, Nan. We’ll both be right here.
DR KING Look, I know it’s been fright- ening, I know your dreams have
seemed real. But… it’s okay. Okay?
MARGE Please, Nancy. Trust us.
The girls gauges her mother, the doctor, the situation very
carefully. Then lowers her eyes.
NANCY It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s… (gives up) Okay. Let’s do it.
Greatly relieved, MARGE gives NANCY a goodnight kiss, then follows the doctor through a doorway near the mirror. As soon as her mother is out of sight, NANCY’S eyes drift to the mirror itself. In its reflection she sees herself looking back, alone on the bed.
DISSOLVE TO:
110. INT. THE OBSERVATION ROOM. 110.
MARGE and DR KING overlook NANCY’s sleeping chamber through the one-way mirror. And KING monitors the girl even more closely with a bank of instruments — a mass of glowing dials, graphs and
meters. His manner with MARGE is slightly more sober.
DR KING How long’s this been going on?
MARGE Since the murder. She was fine
before that.
DR KING Not to worry. No signs of path- ology in Nancy’s EEG or pulse rate. I’d guess what we’ve got is a normal young girl who just
happens to have gone through two days of hell.
MARGE It’s just made her think… her dreams are real…
KING adjusts a dial, watching the EKG like a hawk.
DR KING Ever hear the old Buddhist tale about the King who dreamed he was a beggar who dreamed he was a king?
MARGE twitches. Then there’s a slight alteration in the sound of the EKG. KING nods in satisfaction.
DR KING (CONTD) Okay, good. She’s asleep.
MARGE
(immensely relieved) Thank God.
MUSIC RISES SOLEMNLY, MAJESTICALLY into a haunting transition as we
DISSOLVE TO
111. A MONTAGE OF SHOTS, of the EKG GRAPH, its inky needles calming, 111. of a METER tracing the quieting of NANCY’s pulse, and of OTHER INSTRUMENTS, indicating life processes we can only guess. All smoothing out.
112. CLOSE ON NANCY on TV MONITOR, asleep like the child she is. 112. Innocent.
MARGE lights a cigarette, angry at her helplessness.
MARGE What the hell are dreams, anyway?
DR KING Mysteries. Incredible body
hookus pokus. Truth is we still don’t know what they are or where they come from. As for nightmares… (leans closer) Did you know that in the last
three years twenty Philipino refugees in California died in the middle of nightmares? Not from heart attacks, either. They just died.
He gives a “Ah don’ know” shrug. MARGE looks out into the
sleeping room. NANCY is a motionless bundle in the middle of the bed.
113. ANGLE ON A NEEDLE on an EKG dipping to a lower reading. 113.
114. WIDER ANGLE — the mother and DOCTOR watching. 114.
MARGE What happened? That needle
sank like a rock.
DR KING (quietly) She’s entering deep sleep now. Heart rate’s a little high due to anxiety, but otherwise she’s
nicely relaxed. All normal. She could dream at any time now. (beat) Right now she’s like a diver on the bottom of an ocean no one’s mapped yet. Waiting to
see what shows up.
115. INT. THE SLEEPING ROOM. 115.
We can see NANCY drift from the initial stage, over the brink into deep sleep. Her hair falls into her eyes; her face relaxes; her shoulders curl round her like comforters. THE MUSIC
DEEPENS, and begins to hint at the tones of the NIGHTMARE THEME.
116. INT. CONTROL ROOM. DAY. 116.
DR KING and MARGE watch the instruments’ every move.
One of the machines begins a slight CHIRPING. KING scans it, liking what he sees.
DR KING Okay, she’s started to dream.
He leans forward in his chair, like a pilot starting an instrument approach. MARGE THOMPSON licks her dry lips, fighting a turn of nausea.
MARGE How can you tell?
DR KING R.E.M.’s. Rapid eye movements. The eyes follow the
dream — their movement picks up on this —
He prods a dial with his pencil and scribbles the time on a note pad.
DR KING (CONTD)
Beta Waves are slowing, too. She’s dreaming, all right. A good one, too.
MARGE watches the TV MONITOR. It’s in extra-close on NANCY’s eyes — and they’re darting beneath the lids, reacting to events lost behind a skein of flesh and neurons.
KING points to a moving graph. A needle’s begun waving lazily between plus and minus three. The DOCTOR nods, assured.
DR KING (CONTD) Typical dream parameter. A nightmare, now, would be plus or
minus five or six; she’s just around three point —
