IN THE COLOSSEUM

Screenplay adapted from the short story "Interrogation" by The GNN.
Copyright ©1996 Underground eXperts United & Underground Motion Entertainment.


INT. CORRIDORS

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(Opening credits while we see two men, HAROLD and SMITH, walk through basement corridors. HAROLD is handcuffed and wears a military uniform. SMITH, dressed in a police uniform, walks slightly behind HAROLD, keeping a gun pointed at him. Camera switch between different angles.)

CUT TO:

INT. CRAMPED INTERROGATION ROOM

(HAROLD and SMITH enter a cramped interrogation room with two chairs, a little table, no windows. They sit down on the chairs. SMITH is nervous and irritated. HAROLD is calm, signs of happiness and madness can be seen in his face. Throughout the conversation, the camera switches between POV's, pans and walks.)

SMITH (brings up a paper and a pen) Your name is Harold Warnock? Correct?

HAROLD (ironically) Of course!

SMITH (quickly) Watch it!

HAROLD ...and you're Mister Smith, yeah?

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SMITH You just...

HAROLD Love that name.

SMITH ...shut your face 'till I tell you to speak? Do I make myself clear?

HAROLD (to no one) Don't you just love this guy?

(to SMITH) Who cares anyway? You're the police. I'm the criminally insane. Interrogate me. It's your duty, blue boy.

(For a moment, they stare at each other, in silence.)

SMITH Harold?

HAROLD Yes, police officer king-pin, wassup?

SMITH You're evil, Harold.

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(HAROLD theatrically shows the palms of his hands to SMITH.)

HAROLD But look how clean they are. So clean. Clean. As the world.

SMITH There is no world, Harold. No world.

HAROLD (shaking his head) It's clean.

SMITH (calmly) Fuck you, Harold.

HAROLD (laughing) Well, I figure you're the only one around who might be able to do that.

SMITH (suddenly) Now let me get this straight. Am I really coming through to you? Do you really hear me? Or am I just producing words towards some kind of human wall? Could I rather spend my time doing something else..?

HAROLD Oh, I wonder what that would be...

SMITH ...What? Could I?

HAROLD Sure. Sure as hell. You could need a little vacation. What about Paris? Moscow? London? Tokyo? Just bring a broom. Guess you need to tidy them up.

(smiling) A little.

SMITH For Christ sake, face the facts! You're dead! Talkin' loud won't dig any escape tunnels for you! Your crime.. is... is...

(He never finish the sentence.)

HAROLD Aww, who cares now?

SMITH You better.

HAROLD I'm already dead, ain't I? Didn't you just say so? They... you... will give me the capital punishment, won't you? What else is there? There are no jails any more, no prisons, nothing. Just your gun. Your power.

(pause)

SMITH Why did you do it?

HAROLD Come on, why not?

SMITH For starters, it's the worst possible crime one could ever commit. You've violated other peoples rights, your code of ethics as a soldier and... and... common-fucking-sense!

HAROLD Let me put it this way: I wanted to clean up the place. It was dirty. Really, really dirty, as you know. Filthy! Dirty! Evil! Bad! Hellish!

SMITH (sadly) But it was around!

HAROLD Oh, even worse. Goddamn, like sticking your hand down the john and love the shit because "it's around." You must be fucking kidding, did you learn rhetoric in some kindergarten?

SMITH (sadly) It's so... it's so...

(concluding) You don't exist, do you? You're not for real, are you?

HAROLD I am. The world is not. Thank God.

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SMITH Blasphemy. Suits you.

HAROLD I'm not Jesus. But close, don't you say?

(SMITH does not reply.)

SMITH How did you do it?

HAROLD You know how.

(SMITH bangs his fist into the table.)

SMITH (irritated) Answer the goddamn question!

HAROLD I turned a key.

SMITH You turned a key...

HAROLD And the world was no more.

SMITH Wonderful.

HAROLD But I had to do some other things first. Hey, you know, it's not enough to just turn one key. No no, if you do that they will get you at once. Two keys must be turned. My key. His key.

SMITH His...?

HAROLD The second man. We're always two. Two men, down in the basement. Sitting there, all day long. Waiting. Waiting, for the miracle to come. Waiting, for the big men to get to the point. When they do, we turn out keys. But they never did. No decisions. Well, at least no big decisions. Just the usual mumbo-jumbo. No results.

SMITH Unbelievable...

HAROLD Indeed.

SMITH (depressed) Oh God...

HAROLD Well, just had to get the other fella to turn the key. Then the problems would be solved. They would be cleaned up. Big time.

SMITH And?

HAROLD We sat there for twenty years. Do you understand?

SMITH No. I don't. I really don't.

HAROLD Oh no? Well, once day I began to consider the modus operandi. Time to try out some psycho tricks! Time to do something fun. So, I began to talk to the guy beside me.

SMITH You're telling me you didn't say a word to him before that? Twenty years?

HAROLD I didn't say that. I said: I began to talk to him. For real. I manipulated him. Get it?

SMITH Go on.

HAROLD I will "go on" whenever I feel for it. I can do whatever I want. Anyway, it took me three years. Three long years. But it was worth it. Worth waiting for, like a dolly bird back home or a cold beer in the sun. It took me three years. Then...

SMITH Then...

HAROLD ...then he turned the key.

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(SMITH draws his gun from his holster, cocks it, and puts it on the table in front of him.)

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SMITH (crescendo) Then what? Then what? What happened then, Harold? When he turned the key, what did you do? Did you turn your key? Did you? What happened when you turned your key? What happened?

HAROLD (slowly, devilish) I turned my key too... I had to do it, Mister Smith... you know that...

SMITH What happened then, Harold? What the fuck happened?

(HAROLD waves his arms, wildly.)

HAROLD (crescendo) It said bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! It said bang! Bang, Smith! Bang! Bang! Bang!

SMITH (formally) When you turned your key, you launched twenty strategical nuclear warheads against ten different countries. They responded to the attack at once. Before you were able to say Jacka Cracka Eats Shit, the world was gone! You hear me? In less than ten minutes, the world was gone!

HAROLD (slowly, silently) I know, mister Smith, I know...

SMITH You've destroyed everything. You're the angel-of-fucking-death, alive and kicking, while the world is on fire. How does that feel, Harold? How does that feel?

HAROLD (devilish) Can you feel the cancer inside you, mister Smith? Can you feel it? It feels good, don't you say? It's pure. It's clean. It eats away all the dirt.

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(SMITH suddenly rises from the chair, leans over the table, and puts the barrel of the gun under the chin of HAROLD.)

HAROLD (ironically) What are you going to do, mister Smith? Are you going to kill me? Oh, that really scares me. I'm so afraid.

(Pause. They remain in their positions. When HAROLD once again begins to talk, the camera slowly zooms into his face. When the last word is uttered, the whole picture only contains his eyes.)

HAROLD (crescendo) Did you search for me, mister Smith? What did you think when you saw the gigantic flowers of smoke arise from the ground? "I'm going to get the son-of-a-bitch who is responsible for this"? Did you, cop? Did you, pig? Well, did you? Here I am! And I've confessed my crimes! The last criminal on planet earth, with the last cop! Punish me! Do what the law tells you to do! Do it now! Now! Now! Do it! Do it now! Now!

(fade to black)

(closing credits)