Beowulf

by Neil Gaiman

  13

  sit, almost unaware of the chaos around them, primly sitting and eating goose with their fingers. One of them BELCHES with relish, surprising us.

  14 A KNAVE BOY

  14

  is trying to pull a goose-leg away from a DOG. He succeeds, and begins gnawing on it himself.

  We are seeing humanity, rough-cut, having a real festival, feast, celebration. It’s NOISY and rude, and everything is burnished with the glitter of gold.

  CUT TO:

  15 EXT. DARK FOREST - NIGHT

  15

  We are at the nape of a dark primeval forest, just at the border of the high moors. The moon is out. It’s silent we are much too far away to hear the noise in the feast-hall, Herot. Just the WIND HOWLING, an OWL HOOTING…

  …and the sound of SOMEONE MOANING.

  We cannot see GRENDEL properly. He is more or less a shadowy figure in the darkness. But he has his hands clutched over his ears, arms extended, and is swaying from side to side, as if trying to blot out a noise so loud it’s filling his head. He is MOANING.

  Then he lowers his hands from his ears, and we hear what Grendel hears -- the NOISE OF THE PARTY as an obscene and allengulfing babble of sound: a WALL OF NOISE.

  Grendel steps out into the light of the full moon, a dark, huge shape…

  CUT TO:

  16 INT. HEROT - MEAD HALL - NIGHT

  16

  The Hall. The party is in full Danish sixth century swing.

  Rolf the Brave and Gitte the Slut are locked in a passionate embrace under the table, possibly fucking. Some are passed out, some are partying full bore, all are drunk. A SCOP, a Bard of the time, is CHANTING and accompanying himself on the HARP. If we can hear the words of his chant, it’s about King Hrothgar killing a dragon.

  The King, on his throne, one huge hand pawing his wife’s waist, closes his eyes and begins to sleep.

  CUT TO:

  17 EXT. THE MOORS - NIGHT

  17

  We are travelling towards the hall Herot from Grendel’s POINT OF VIEW. We are about 15 feet above the ground and moving inhumanly fast. More OMINOUS MUSIC.

  CUT TO:

  18 EXT. HEROT - NIGHT

  18

  A handful of THANES burst out of the great doors of Herot, and begin to adjust their clothing and to piss against the side of the wooden walls. They are chatting while they relieve themselves. They are slightly drunk, and thus taking themselves very seriously. They all have newly-awarded golden torques, armbands and rings.

  PISSING THANE #1

  So if Christ Jesus and Odin got into a fight, who do you think would win?

  PISSING THANE #2

  A knife fight?

  PISSING THANE #1

  Any kind of fight.

  And then it’s the same location, but we’re coming towards them from

  19 GRENDEL’S POINT OF VIEW.

  19

  The Thanes must have heard something, because they turn towards us in horror, piss spraying each other, mouths opening soundlessly, but it’s too late, because--

  20 INT. HEROT - MEAD HALL - NIGHT

  20

  We hear SCREAMS from outside the hall. The screams of the pissing Thanes being torn limb from limb.

  Hrothgar opens his eyes, waking.

  People start sitting up, worried. Warriors reach for swords, knives, spears.

  A DOG BEGINS GROWLING, its fur on end, backing away from the great door.

  There is a pause. A BEAT OF SILENCE, which goes on almost longer than we can bear and then…

  Grendel enters.

  We see Grendel in fragments, glimpses. Eyes, sharp-clawed hands, scaled golden skin, teeth. We see him in fragments and glimpses, but we do not see him clearly or as a whole as he seems to bring shadows in with him.

  Grendel is huge.

  Torches and candles snuff and go out as it enters.

  We see Grendel’s hand slash out, and a THANE’S HEAD goes flying, spilling blood as it goes.

  Wulf the Eight-Fingered attacks Grendel with a sword. The sword shatters, and Grendel’s fist goes into Wulf’s chest, pulling out his heart. Blood splashes.

  Grendel is moving inhumanly fast.

  Hrothgar, now awake, is on his throne. An arm comes hurtling across the room, golden bracelet on its wrist, splattering blood over him.

  Grendel picks up a WARRIOR, bites off his head, sucks the blood that pours from the neck. Drops the drained thing onto the floor.

  HROTHGAR is about to attack it himself, when Unferth pulls him back.

  HROTHGAR

  Let me go. Am I not the King?

  UNFERTH

  You are the King. And that is a monster from Hell. There is no dishonor in fleeing from such a beast.

  Hrothgar pulls away from him, and stumbles toward Grendel, his sword in his hand.

  But Grendel avoids him, with ease.

  Grendel has pulled a man apart at the legs, as if it were splitting a wishbone. It throws the body at the fire, putting out the last of the light.

  The room goes dark.

  We hear PEOPLE SCREAMING AND SOBBING, in the darkness.

  Then a torch is lit, and another, and another….

  In the silence, we see that the room is literally awash with blood. And that many of the men are gone.

  WEALTHOW

  What was…that?

  We spiral in, dizzyingly, into HROTHGAR’s blood-spattered face. And he says:

  HROTHGAR

  Grendel.

  CUT TO:

  21 INT. GRENDEL’S LAIR - NIGHT

  21

  Grendel shambles into his lair -- a cave mouth, beside a pool. He is dragging two or three bodies in one hand, and has a couple of other dead warriors slung over his shoulders. We are watching him from behind, as he moves.

  Then he steps into the water, walking down. The dead eyes of a dead warrior stare at us sightlessly, and then vanish under water.

  CUT TO:

  22 INT. THE GREAT CAVE - GRENDEL’S MOTHER’S LAIR - NIGHT

  22

  Somewhere under the water there is an underground cave. It is a strange and unnerving place. There are bones, many of them human. Greenish-golden light flickers in this place. Old weapons, of enormous size, are strewn around, hanging on the glimmering rock walls - particularly a huge GIANT SWORD. There is a pool taking up some of the place.

  Grendel comes, step by laborious step, out of the pool, dragging his warrior-bodies with him.

  GRENDEL’S MOTHER is sitting a little way away, on a shipwreck. She is in the shadows, and swathed in dark cloth. What we can see of her skin glitters, like gold.

  This is the first good look we have had at Grendel. He is huge, and strangely misshapen. His fingernails are sharp claws, his eyes are serpentine, his teeth are pointed. He is hairless. But he has charisma, and we feel for him. He is more or less naked.

  Grendel’s mother’s VOICE is melodious and young.

  GRENDEL’S MOTHER

  Grendel? What have you done?

  GRENDEL

  Mother? Where are you?

  Grendel’s Mother stands up, and moves forward. We still can’t see her properly.

  GRENDEL’S MOTHER

  Men? Grendel…we had an agreement. Fish, and wolves, and bear, and sometimes a sheep or two. But not men.

  GRENDEL

  You like men.

  GRENDEL’S MOTHER

  Grendel. They will hurt us if they can. They have killed so many of us…the Giant-breed, the Dragon-kind…

  GRENDEL

  Here.

  He holds out a body.

  GRENDEL’S MOTHER

  (tired)

  Just put it down, Grendel.

  GRENDEL

  They were making such noise. So much noise. It hurt my head and my mind. I could not think.

  Tears begin to run down Grendel’s face. He lets go of all the warriors he is holding, and they float on the surface of the pool.

  GRENDEL’S MOTHER

&nb
sp; (sharply)

  Was Hrothgar there?

  GRENDEL

  I did not touch him.

  Grendel squats down on the rock-floor, and, almost absentmindedly, begins to eat the face of a warrior.

  GRENDEL’S MOTHER

  (pacified)

  Good boy. My poor sensitive boy.

  CUT TO BLACK:

  SEVERAL MONTHS LATER

  23 EXT. HEROT - VILLAGE - DAY

  23

  It’s a grey, wet, drizzling morning, wet and dull. Unferth walks though the camp. When he gets to the hall, he sees the great doors are open, and he goes in.

  Then, a few seconds later, he runs out -- we can see that Unferth limps as he runs -- he has sustained some kind of injury to his legs from Grendel, since we last saw him.

  CUT TO:

  24 INT. HEROT - HROTHGAR’S QUARTERS - DAY

  24

  Hrothgar and Wealthow are asleep in their bed -- a straw pallet, covered with cloth and deer hides, and, covering them, more deer hides and furs. They both sleep naked, but are beneath the fur. The PITTER-PATTER OF RAIN on the roof can be heard.

  Unferth bursts in. He respectfully touches Hrothgar’s shoulder. Hrothgar opens his eyes.

  Unferth talks quietly, not wanting to wake Wealthow.

  UNFERTH

  (whispering)

  My lord?

  HROTHGAR

  (waking)

  Hnh? What?

  UNFERTH

  My lord. It has happened again.

  HROTHGAR

  Grendel’s work?

  Unferth nods.

  HROTHGAR

  How many men this time?

  By this time Wealthow has woken. She sits up and looks at them. The furs have slipped off, revealing her breasts. Unferth tries hard not to stare at her. Hrothgar, naked, clambers up from the floor.

  UNFERTH

  I could not tell. They were not whole. Five. Ten.

  HROTHGAR

  (to Wealthow -- boisterously)

  Keep the bed warm for me, eh?

  WEALTHOW

  (drily)

  Why?

  We realize that all is not well for our King and Queen in the bed department. Hrothgar ignores this insult to his masculinity, and pulls a fur robe over his nakedness.

  25 EXT. HEROT - VILLAGE - DAY

  25

  It’s still raining, and we can see Hrothgar’s bare legs and feet beneath his fur robe, as he walks with Unferth across the open space between his sleeping quarters and the hall.

  HROTHGAR

  How many does this make it?

  UNFERTH

  This is the second attack this moon. The tenth in half a year. He’s coming more frequently.

  Unferth, walking behind the king, goes into Herot.

  26 INT. HEROT - MEAD HALL - DAY

  26

  The carnage left by Grendel is terrible -- body parts, bodies, and, above all, blood everywhere -- on the floor and the walls.

  Hrothgar is standing in a puddle of blood, in his bare feet, and he says, almost sadly:

  HROTHGAR

  When I was young I killed a dragon, in the Northern Moors. But I’m too old for dragon-slaying now. We need a hero, a Siegfried, to rid us of this curse upon our hall.

  UNFERTH

  I will not face Grendel again.

  Esher, Hrothgar’s counsellor, arrives, and stares at the devastation with them.

  UNFERTH

  I say we trap the beast. Brute strength fails against such a brute. Let us use cunning.

  HROTHGAR

  These creatures know cunning, Unferth. They are cunning.

  ESHER

  Our people wait for deliverance, my King. Some of them pray to the Christ Jesus to lift this affliction. Others sacrifice goats or sheep to Odin, or Heimdall.

  HROTHGAR

  (takes a deep breath)

  This place reeks of death.

  (he turns and leaves, the others follow him.)

  The gods will do nothing for us that we will not do for ourselves. No, we need a hero.

  Hrothgar, Esher, and Unferth walk down the

  27 HALLWAY

  27

  Hrothgar leaves bloody, sticky, red footprints behind him, from his bare feet.

  28 EXT. HEROT - DAY

  28

  Hrothgar et al walk out into the village, it has begun to rain harder.

  HROTHGAR

  Men! Build another pyre! There’s dry wood behind the stables. Then clean out the hall. Burn the dead, wash out the blood. Put down new straw and reeds on the floor.

  He begins to walk through the rain, ignoring it completely. Unferth and Esher walk with him.

  HROTHGAR

  (to Unferth and Esher)

  The scops are singing the shame of Herot as far south as the middle sea, as far north as the ice-lands. Our cows no longer calf, our fields lie fallow, the very fish flee from our nets, knowing that we are cursed. I have let it be known that I will give half the gold in my kingdom to any man who can rid us of Grendel. That should bring us a hero.

  UNFERTH

  I wish you had had a son, my lord.

  ESHER

  The country folk hereabouts have a very amusing saying about that. “You wish into one hand, and shit into the other, see which fills up first.”

  HROTHGAR

  There is nothing wrong with hope, Esher. It is all that keeps us from being animals. A hero will come, because a hero must come. We will trust to the sea, my friends. It will bring our release.

  CUT TO:

  29 EXT. THE STORMY SEA - DAY

  29

  Great gray sheets of rain sweep a stormy Northern sea. The clouds which bear the rain are so full of water they’ve swollen to a blackness deep as pitch.

  The sun itself has vanished beyond the dark torrent. It seems it will never return, as sometimes it seems daylight will never return after a nightmare. But LIGHTNING is here instead…flashing with its sporadic brilliance, occasionally illuminating the wave caps.

  The ocean is furious. Commander of the tempest above. The weight of it swells like an angry orchestra…CRASHING with bombastic fervor…rising with every crescendo. Rhythm to the melody of rain and lightning.

  A man is watching natures symphony play before him. His curious eye takes in the chaos and out of the randomness patterns form. Nature’s music is heard by him. His name is BEOWULF.

  He wears leather armor studded with hand pounded iron. At his hip is a heavy, hand forged ancestry sword that at one time belonged to his father’s father. His cape, a tapestry of heavy black weaves and animal skins, blows in the wind.

  Beowulf is standing on the deck of a Nordic craft whose ample span was never meant for voyages as rabid as this. The poor vessel slams into each wave with thunderous booms that send cascading shivers up its wooden ribs.

  The red sail has been tattered by the wind -- it has been ripped to unusable shreds. As it snaps in the gale we can see the image of a golden dragon emblazoned on it.

  At the oars sit FOURTEEN THANES. Their hands, bloodied and pierced with slivers, tug at the wooden oars rhythmically…pulling the craft along on its perilous journey through the waves.

  Like a toy carved from a branch the boat is momentarily lost under the waves’ event horizon.

  Beowulf, his left hand holding the mast for balance, remains undaunted by the howling winds and the walls of water surrounding him. He continues to hold his stare at where the horizon must be. Somewhere, beyond the dark veil of the storm, there is a fire to guide him. Somewhere, beyond the darkness, there will be light and placid waters.

  Beowulf’s Second in command, a strong Thane with wild red hair and beard looks up to Beowulf. He is WIGLAF. He ships his oar, and clambers up to where Beowulf is, shouting

  WIGLAF

  (above the wind and rain)

  Can you see the coast? Do you see the Dane’s guide-fire?

  BEOWULF

  I see nothing but the wind and the rain. And I am unimpressed
!

  WIGLAF

  No fire? No stars by which to navigate? We’re lost! Given to the sea!

  Beowulf looks at him and starts laughing…a laugh of challenge.

  BEOWULF

  Ha! The sea is my mother! She will never take me into her murky womb!

  WIGLAF

  That’s fine for you. But my mother’s a fishwife in Uppland. And I was rather hoping to die in battle, as a warrior should.

  He grabs Wiglaf by the shoulders.

  BEOWULF

  (looking up to the sheets of falling rain)

  It’s no earthly storm! That much we can be sure.

  (then to Wiglaf with a grin)

  It’s Hrothgar’s sin which shrouds his land in this torrent! This demon’s tempest won’t hold us out! No! For our journey this storm is not the worry, it’s the return which you should fear, dear friend! None can leave once challenge met, lest challenge overcome! And who better than us, Wiglaf?

  WIGLAF

  (who has noticed that Beowulf makes no sense what-so-ever)

  What?!

  Wiglaf looks at Beowulf with wide, questioning eyes. Is Beowulf mad? Well, even if he was, Wiglaf would follow him into the mouth of death herself.

  BEOWULF

  Man your oar, Wiglaf! Beyond this storm, as any, there is calm! As much as beyond the calm there will always be storms, ready to blow you from your path…