THE PATRIOT

                  THE PATRIOT 

                             by

                        Robert Rodat

                                      March 26, 1999

FADE IN:

EXT.  THE SWAMPS OF SOUTH CAROLINA - NIGHT

Dark.  Ominous.  Kudzu hangs from the swamps maples.  A

dark and forbidding place.  A bird CRIES EERILY in the

darkness.  Insects HUM ominously.

SUPERIMPOSITION:

                   FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR

A detachment of French soldiers with several wagons makes

it's way along a muddy road cut through the swamp.  The

soldiers are wary, scanning the underbrush, weapons ready.

In the swamp, parallel to the road, SHADOWED FIGURES,

hidden among the brush, silently track the French

soldiers.

As the lead wagon rolls over a muddy puddle, straddling

it, a MUD-COVERED FIGURE, reaches up, grabs the wagon's

undercarriage, pulls itself up and clings, unseen to the

underside of the wagon.  The figure, obscured by the mud,

barely looks human.

As the other wagons roll over other muddy depressions in

the road, three more mud-covered figures reach up, grab

and cling to the underside of other wagons.

FORT CHARLES

The gates are opened.  The relieved French soldiers

quicken their pace and hurry into the relative safety of

the fort.  In the fort yard the weary detachment

disperses.

UNDER THE LEAD WAGON

The first dark, mud-covered figure silently drops to the

ground and draws a distinctive TOMAHAWK from his belt as

the other figures drop from the other wagons.

The figures crawl through the shadows toward the sentries

who are closing the main gates.  THEY SPRING... the lead

figure dashes forward, raises his TOMAHAWK and HACKS DOWN

at a TERRIFIED FRENCH SENTRY...

The other muddy figures join the attack... stifling the

screams of the French soldiers with VICIOUS KNIFE

SLASHES... gaining precious seconds...

A FRENCH SOLDIER CRIES OUT... sounding the alarm... other

FRENCH SOLDIERS come running out of the darkness...

The four muddy figures, make a stand at the gate, brutally

killing the French soldiers as they come, holding the

gates open as...

Dozens of other muddy figures race out of the surrounding

swamp, tearing through the fort gates, joining the

slaughter...

The lead figure, HACKS, again and again with his

tomahawk...

Blood and flesh cover his arm as the vicious blade rises

and falls amid the SCREAMS in the darkness...

                                            DISSOLVE TO:

EXT.  SOUTH CAROLINA COUNTRYSIDE - DAY

Beautiful sunlight.  AERIAL SHOT of a post rider galloping

along a road through peaceful untamed woodlands.  Soaring

old-growth elms arch over riverside maples along the

shores of the gently curving, deep-water Santee River.

SUPERIMPOSITION:

                      SOUTH CAROLINA

                        April, 1776

The post rider rides along a raised swamp road.  On either

side of the road, gorgeous shafts of sunlight pierce the

canopy falling onto soft, swaying ferns that cover the

high grounds.  Hundreds of BIRDS SING.  The water is

clear, with fields of floating lily pads, each with a

stark white flower rising from it.

EXT.  FRESH WATER PLANTATION - DAY

The post rider approaches a plantation built between the

banks of the river and the deep green of the swamps,

passing acres of perfectly tended rice paddies.  Two

sturdy brothers, NATHAN, 13 and SAMUEL, 12, work alongside

three adult male African freedmen, JOSHUA, JONAH, MICA,

planting rice.  They look up from their work as the rider

passes.  Nathan and Samuel take off running after the post

rider.

THE HOUSE

The post rider approaches the house, built of native

brick, well-constructed and well-maintained.  There's a

barn, a workshop and a forge.  It is a home of substance

rather than wealth.  On the front porch, MARGARET, 11,

pumps a butter churn while her brother, WILLIAM, 6,

watches.  They see the post rider.  Margaret excitedly

runs off toward the workshop while William stares at the

approaching rider who is trailed by Nathan and Samuel.

INT.  WORKSHOP - DAY

A perfect colonial workshop, fastidiously arranged with

every conceivable tool of the period.  A foot-powered

lathe.  A drop-forge.  A lifting saw.  Racks of tools,

planes, hammers, augers, drills, blocks, all hanging in

their places.  All very well-worn.

BENJAMIN MARTIN methodically works his lathe, turning a

piece of hardwood, shaving off tiny curls of wood with a

razor-sharp chisel.  He's in his late-forties, strong and

weathered.  His hands, though big and callused, handle the

chisel with a surgeon's precision.  Self-educated and

self-sufficient, he has built himself, as he built his

farm, brick by brick, from the coarse clay of the earth.

A finely-made rocking chair, missing only the dowel on

which Martin is working, sits on the work table.  The

chair is a work of art, thin and light, a spider-web of

perfectly turned wood, no nails, no glue.  Sitting on the

woodpile, SUSAN, 4, a silent, stone-face wisp of a child,

watches her father.  Margaret races in.

                         MARGARET

          Father!  A post rider!

Martin pointedly continues his work without looking up.

                         MARTIN

          Very well.

Margaret waits, then, seeing that her father isn't going

to come, she turns and races out.

EXT.  FRESH WATER PLANTATION - DAY

The post rider rides up to the house.  ABIGALE AND ABNER,

a middle-aged African couple, step out.  Abigale calls out

to Nathan and Samuel as they run up breathlessly.

                         ABIGALE

          You go tell your father, there a

          post rider.

They race toward the workshop, passing an excited

Margaret.

INT.  WORKSHOP - DAY

Martin calmly takes the piece of wood out of the lathe,

carefully fits it into the chair, inserts a peg and taps

it into place.  Then he steps back and appraises his

handiwork.  He picks up the chair and hooks the top rail

to a scale, countering with a three-pound weight.  The

chair floats.  Martin blows softly on the weight which

sinks.  Susan nods, so far, so good.  Nathan and Samuel

burst into the room.

                         NATHAN

          Father!  Father!

                         SAMUEL

          A post rider!  Mail!

Martin nods, keeping his attention on the chair.

                         MARTIN

          Very well.

The boys wait for more.  Nothing.  They race out.

EXT.  FRESH WATER PLANTATION - DAY

GABRIEL, 18, strong and handsome, walks out of the woods

with a musket in his hand and a dozen game-birds over his

shoulder.  At his side walks THOMAS, 14, also carrying a

musket.  They see the post rider giving the mail to

Abigale with the other children excitedly watch.  Thomas

runs over.  Gabriel restrains himself and strides toward

the workshop.

INT.  WORKSHOP - DAY

Martin takes the chair off the scale and puts it on the

floor.  He walks slowly around it, checking every angle.

He takes a deep breath and starts to sit down but stops as

Gabriel enters.

                         GABRIEL

          Father, a post rider.

                         MARTIN

          I know.

Gabriel waits for Martin to share his excitement.  He

doesn't.

                         GABRIEL

          May I bring it to you?

Martin pointedly keeps his attention on the chair.

                         MARTIN

          No.

                         GABRIEL

          May I open it?

Martin turns with a surprised and authoritarian glare.

                         GABRIEL

          Uh... I can wait.

Gabriel leaves.  Martin exchanges a look with Susan, then

turns back to the chair.  He takes a deep breath and

lowers himself onto the seat, gingerly adding an ounce at

a time.  Not a creak.  He smiles and sits back with a

sigh.

CRACK!  THE CHAIR SPLINTERS under Martin's weight, DUMPING

HIM on his ass on a pile of broken wood.

                         MARTIN

          Damnation!

He picks up some of the wood, about to fling it across the

room but stops as Susan shoots him a disapproving look.

He calms himself.

                         MARTIN

          Sorry.

Susan gets down from the woodpile and puts the remains of

the chair in the fireplace.  Martin steps over to his wood

rack and extracts a fresh dowel.  As Susan climbs back up

to her perch, Martin fits the dowel into the lathe and

starts it up.

THE MAIL sits, unopened, on the hall table.  Margaret,

William, Nathan, Samuel, Thomas and Gabriel hover.

Abigale bustles in and shoos them away.

                         ABIGALE

          You get away from there, now.

          That's not your mail.  You wash up

          for supper... you leave that

          alone...

The children reluctantly follow her orders, leaving the

unopened mail on the table.

EXT.  HILLTOP - FRESH WATER FARM - SUNSET

The loveliest spot on the farm.  A beautiful view of the

house, barns, river, fields and hills beyond.  A

gravestone stands in the shade of a soaring oak tree

covered with Spanish moss.  It reads:

          ELIZABETH PUTNAM MARTIN    1738-1773

Above her name is a carving of the night sky, at the

center of which is the NORTH STAR, steady and guiding.

Martin approaches.  He gives himself a moment to look at

the grave.  A soft wind blows some dry leaves along the

ground.  Martin turns his head, as if listening to spoken

words.  PUSH IN on the North Star on the gravestone.

                         MARGARET (V.O.)

          That's her, the North Star...

                                            DISSOLVE TO:

INT.  GIRLS' BEDROOM - NIGHT

Martin stands in the doorway, unobserved, while Margaret

and Susan look out the window at the night sky.

                         MARGARET

          ... you start from the front two

          stars of the Big Dipper and count up

          five fingers lengths... that's

          right... there.

Susan gazes up at the North Star.  The girls notice Martin

and climb into bed.  He puts a chair against Susan's bed

and kisses her.  He pulls a blanket up around Margaret,

who whispers:

                         MARGARET

          It helps her to know Mother's there.

Martin nods with a thin smile, kisses Margaret, picks up

his candle and walks out.

INT.  BOYS' BEDROOM - NIGHT

Martin enters, finding William asleep on the floor and

Nathan and Samuel both asleep in their beds.  He lifts

William into bed, takes a slingshot from Nathan's hand.

Samuel looks up, three-quarters asleep, murmuring:

                         SAMUEL

          Mail, papa...

                         MARTIN

          I know.

He tucks in Samuel and walks out.

INT.  FOYER - MARTIN'S HOUSE - NIGHT

Gabriel hovers near the still unopened mail.  Thomas lies

on the floor, deploying squadrons of lead soldiers.

Martin walks in and pours a drink.

                         MARTIN

          Very well.  Open it.

Thomas and Gabriel leap for the mail, battling, tearing

into it.  Martin steps to the window with his drink,

looking out into the night.  Gabriel scans, Thomas reads

more slowly.

                         GABRIEL

          The New York and Rhode Island

          assemblies have been dissolved...

                         MARTIN

          The middle colonies?

                         GABRIEL

          Rioting both sides of the bay, in

          Chestertown they burned the Customs

          House and tar-and-feathered the

          Customs Agent.  He died of burns.

          In Wilmington they killed a Royal

          Magistrate and two Redcoats.

                         MARTIN

          Foolish men.

                         GABRIEL

          Who, the rioters or the magistrates?

                         MARTIN

          Anything about the convention in

          Philadelphia?

                         GABRIEL

          Poor Richard says they'll make a

          Declaration of Independence by July.

Martin extracts a delicate pair of reading glasses from a

wooden pocket-box and motions for Gabriel to hand him some

of the newspapers and pamphlets.  Gabriel does so.  Martin

sits down and begins reading.

                         GABRIEL

          Scott Higgins joined the militia.

Martin doesn't respond.  Thomas looks up from his lead

soldiers.

                         GABRIEL

          He's seventeen.  A year younger than

          I.

Gabriel and Thomas wait for a reaction.  None.  Gabriel

sighs and sits down to open more mail.  Martin's eyes

drift from the page to Gabriel.  Suddenly Gabriel starts:

                         GABRIEL

          Father!  The assembly's been

          convened!  You're called to

          Charleston!

Martin nods, not pleased, not surprised.

                         MARTIN

          We'll leave in the morning.

EXT.  SWAMP ROAD - DAY

The Martins drive on a beautiful swamp road.  The arching

maples and willows form a tunnel of green.  The children

excitedly CHATTER AND SING.  Martin, driving one of the

wagons, is troubled.  Gabriel, driving the other, is as

excited as his siblings, but he restrains himself.

EXT.  BENNINGTON OVERLOOK - DAY

The two carriages pass a view of their entire valley.

Scattered farms with a patchwork of cultivated fields and

rice paddies surround the town of Bennington.

EXT.  SANTEE ROAD - DAY

Passing through rolling farmland, the Martins head toward

the coast.  They pass a large contingent of South Carolina

Militia, drilling in a field.  The children, particularly

Gabriel, watch avidly.

EXT.  CHARLESTON - DAY

Bustling.  Martin and Gabriel negotiate the carriages

through the busy streets.  The children watch, wide-eyed,

seeing taverns, a public gallows, drunkards, street

entertainers, well-dressed ladies attended by their maids,

food venders.  They pull up in front of a grand house --

Charlotte's.

INT.  CHARLOTTE'S HOUSE - CHARLESTON - DAY

CHARLOTTE SELTON, mid-thirties, beautiful, with a deep

sadness that she keeps hidden as best she can, runs down

the grand staircase of her mansion.  She stops in front of

a mirror and quickly primps, then hurries out the front

door.

EXT.  CHARLOTTE'S HOUSE - CHARLESTON - DAY

The children leap from the carriages and swarm around

Charlotte, embracing her, smothering her with kisses.