Brazil

SAM

(to his mother)

Mother, will you listen to

At this moment the food arrives. Spiro elaborately lifts off the silver covers and with a flourish distributes the plates of food. Each order looks identical – a big splodge of brown lumpy stuff. The only differences between the lumps are the Identifying photographs on sticks stuck in each. The beautiful colour photos match the photos which were on the menus.

SPIRO

(showing off that he remembers who's ordered what)

Numero huit, braised veal in wine sauce.

(he sets it in front of

Sam's Mother)

MRS. TERRAIN

It's too exciting. I've left Dr Jaffe and gone to Dr. Chapman.

SPIRO

Numero deux, duck a l'orange.

(he sets it in front of Mrs. Terrain)

MOTHER

The acid man?

MRS. TERRAIN

Really, Ida, just because his techniques are revolutionary... I don't go around calling Dr. Jaffe the knife man.

SPIRO

Numero une, crevettes à la mayonaaise.

(he sets it in front of Shirley)

MOTHER

I'm sorry Alma, I didn't mean to sound so...

MRS. TERRAIN

That's all right Ida... it's just that he's such an artist. To him, cutting is so crude... so primitive.

SPIRO

Numero trois, steak.

(he sets this in front of Sam)

Monsieur, Mesdames, Bon appetit.

ALL BUT SAM

Merci.

MRS. TERRAIN

Acid on the other hand, can be used for such wonderfully subtle shading, such delicate nuances – just like a Rembrant etching... and it's so much quicker. Why, if it weren't for a teensy-weensy complication – the doctor said it could have happened to anyone – I would have had these bandages off yesterday.

SHIRLEY

(to Sam, after attracting her mother's attention and receiving a nod)

Salt?

They are just about to dip into their respective splodges when there is a terrific explosion – a huge hole is blasted out of the wall to the kitchen. Chaos erupts around the carnage as WAITERS try putting out the flames with extinguishers. PEOPLE, bloody and dying, are moaning. The DINERS not actually affected by the blast look up for a moment and then, with a few raised eyebrows, go back to their meals.

IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE EXPLOSION

MOTHER

What were we saying?

SAM

(picking bomb debris out of his brown lump)

This isn't rare!

MOTHER

By the way, I saw a wonderful idea for Christmas presents at the chemists. Gift tokens. Medical gift tokens.

MRS. TERRAIN

Oh, that sounds marvellous.

MOTHER

Yes, they're good at any doctor's and at many of the major hospitals – and they're accepted for gynecological complications including Caesarian section.

Sam, in the act of taking in another forkful of his unappetising meal, drops his form in disgust

SAM

Look – please – I'm sorry – but honestly, mother, this is –

MOTHER.

I quite agree! – It's impossible!

Mother raises her arm to gain the attention of the Maitre'd who is frantically trying to deal with the emergency. The activity in the background has increased throughout the conversation. The fire-brigade has arrived with sirens blaring. Ministry TROOPS have charged in and are arresting WAITERS. Stretchers have been bought in for the injured and these are being rushed past our little group's table. The Maitre'd comes to the table, his DJ now blood-spattered.

MAITRE'D

I am sorry, Madam... I don't know what to say... this very rarely happens to us – I'll do what I can straight away

He hurries away.

MRS. TERRAIN

Really, Sam – when are you going to do something about these terrorists?

SAM

What? Now? It's my lunch hour.

MOTHER

Actually, Alma, that's one of the little things I was dying to tell you... Sam's been promoted to Information Retrieval.

SAM

(angry and surprised)

Mother!

MRS. TERRAIN

Oh that's wonderful! Congratulations Sam...

SHIRLEY

You can show those fucking murderous bastards a thing or two.

MRS. TERRAIN

(shocked and embarrassed)

Shirley!

SAM

Stop this!

(leaping to his feet)

I'm not being promoted. I'm not going to Information Retrieval!

(he scrumples promotion notification which he has been holding and throws it on the floor)

If I want you to stick your oar in, mother, I'll tell you where to stick it!

Everybody is shocked. He recovers his composure slightly. Embarrassed, he bends, and picks up the ball of paper which he starts smoothing back into Its flat state.

SHIRLEY

(back to her uncertain form)

Pepper...?

SAM

Look – I've got to get back –

As Sam goes, Maitre'd reappears with a group of WAITERS – those remaining unarrested – whom he has organised to gut up a folding screen around the table. This cuts of the sight if not the noise of the victims of the explosion.

MOTHER

Sam... you haven't had dessert.

SAM

I'm sorry. I don' t want dessert. I don't want promotion. I don't want anything.

MOTHER

Don't be childish, Samuel. Of course you want something. You must have hopes, wishes, dreams.

Their voices have been rising towards a shout in order to rise above the volume of the growing chaos around them.

SAM

(shouts loud)

NO, NOTHING. NOT EVEN DREAMS!

EXT. BRILLIANT SKY – DAY

Sam as his dream-self rises INTO SHOT, his wings straining as he tows the floating cage imprisoning the girl. They are rising up and away from the monolithic stone skyscrapers that stretch away below them.

SAM

I'm taking you to a safe place. A place where they will never be able to get at us... ever.

An eyeball is scanning the sky. PULLING BACK we see it is but one of thousands, tightly packed side by side forming a landscape that extends as far as we can see. As Sam and the girl in her cage come into view it becomes apparent just how big these eyeballs are – they are gigantic – about 10 feet in diameter. All of them follow Sam as he comes to rest on a platform high atop a column that rises from the centre of this bizarre place.

SAM

There's no way they can approach us without being seen. You're safe here.

He anchors the hawser holding the cage and takes off his wings. Just as he starts climbing up to the cage a terrific cracking noise is heard. Sam freezes.

A dead straight crack is bisecting the sky from somewhere beyond the horizon – running right up the sky and over the camera. Sam follows it as it continues over the Girl and down to the opposite horizon. Another crackling noise is heard. Another crack appears. Then another. And another. All these cracks are emanating from a vanishing point over the horizon. Soon the sky is covered with these cracks from horizon to foreground. Then cracks begin appearing at right angles to them. Very quickly the sky is covered with a mammoth grid. Once it is complete, another noise is heard. Something like massive blocks of stone sliding against one another. One of the squares formed by the grid pattern begins to slide upwards as if being pulled out from the back side of the sky. A square hole is left in its place. We can see the sides of the hole as it extends upwards into blackness. As soon as this first block of sky is withdrawn, another begins to slide up and away. Sam is frozen in position as this terrifying spectacle goes on above him. The eyeballs are madly looking this way and that. The grinding noises are deafening as block after block of sky is removed. With each successive loss the light decreases. The Girl is crying out for Sam to save her. Frantically Sam tries to haul the cage down to the platform but it's too late. Where the sky was is now pitch black. Only one block of sky remains. Slowly that final bit of sky is pulled up and out of shot. Total blackness. A maniacal laughter can be heard. A beam of light is switched on. Sam has a searchlight in his hand and is searching the darkness. The laughter continues. Suddenly the beam catches something black and moving. it's the same black, flapping cloth that appeared at the end of the previous dream. The horrible flapping thing comes thundering down on Sam. He is engulfed in the black awfulness.

INT. SAM'S BEDROOM – NIGHT

Sam is in bed, grappling with the bedclothes. He is dripping with sweat and screaming. The room is oppressively hot. He gets up and looks at the thermostat. It reads 99. He fumbles with it, but to no avail. It's stuck.

CUT TO:

SAM

Coming into the sitting room. He rushes over to the window and tries to open it. But it wasn't designed to be opened. Screws hold it firmly shut. Sam heads to the kitchen He finds a knife which he uses to unscrew the window. He swings the window open and takes a deep breath. GAG! COUGH! HACK! A terrible greeny-brown smog pours in through the window. Desperately Sam shuts the window and madly tightens up the screws. Swinging a newspaper, he tries clearing a path through the clouded atmosphere. He makes it to the front door and staggers out into the hall gasping for air. CUT TO telephone being lifted from its cradle. Pull back as Sam with opened telephone directory in front of him dials. He is seated in his kitchen. In front of his open refrigerator. The phone rings at the other end.

SAM

(into phone)

Hello – Central Services – I'm at 579B Block l9, Northwestern Section D – that's exit 1 on Green Pastures Highway at the Orange Blossom Flyover – and I've got trouble with the air- conditioning

PHONE VOICE

Thank you or calling Central Services. am sorry, due to temporary staff shortage, Central Services cannot take service calls centrally between 2300 and 0900 hours – have a nice day – this has not been a recording, incident-

SAM

This is an emergency!

PHONE VOICE

Thank you for calling Central Services. I am sorry, due –

SAM

Yes, but. I've got to have a heating engineer

PHONE VOICE

Thank you for calling Cen –

Sam slams the phone down.

CUT TO:

SAM

Sitting in front of the refrigerator. The door is open and he has wedged a chair into the gap in a desperate bid to keep cool. He is nodding off. As his head slumps against one of the shelves, a jar of pickled onions falls to the floor. The onions scattering everywhere.

EXT. DARKNESS – NIGHT

The milky white spheres tumble everywhere. But they are not onions, they are the giant eyeballs burtling through space. Sam is clinging desperately to one. He grabs the pupil for a better handhold and it opens like a hatch cover. Sam manages to pull himself inside. Once out of the intergalactic maelstrom, Sam turns to survey the cramped and dark space inside the eyeball. It seems to be bisected by a dividing wall, from which a thin sliver of light is escaping. Pushing on the wall in the area of the slit, Sam is able to move a section. More light shaftes into the tiny space from around the edges of what appears to be a small hatch. Sam scrunches down and really puts his shoulder to the hatch. with a metallic rasp it gives way and Sam crashes through.

CUT TO:

OTHER SIDE OF OPENING

As Sam topples through. He catches himself in the nick of time as the camera zooms back revealing his close call with disaster. He is high on a vast wall of what looks like filing cabinets. The hatch he came through was the front of one of the millions of files-drawers composing this wall. As he scrambles back into the opening we can see that the wall drops away for hundreds of feet, disappear into a steaming mist. Other walls of files enclose this vast space. From where Sam is it looks like the view from the 50th storey of the Time Life building in NYC. These millions of files are being tended by MEN arising themselves up and down, as well as sideways, on modern skyscraper window-cleaners' platforms. The attendants are seen putting PEOPLE in different period costumes into drawers. Sam's attention is distracted by a sound overhead. Looking up he sees a window washer platform being lowered in his direction. Leaning over the side is a JOLLY GENT, who happens to look like Mr. Helpmann (as seen on TV).

GENT

Ah ha... there you are, Sam.

SAM

What? How do you know my name?

GENT

We know everything here. This is the Storeroom of Knowledge.

SAM

(climbing onto the platform)

Then perhaps you can help me. I've lost someone who...

GENT

(interrupting)

We know that too. You've come to the right place.

The platform carries them along the files.

GENT

Oh, yes. We've got everything here. Every bit of knowledge, wisdom, learning... every experience, every thought neatly filed away.

SAM

(incredulous)

What? You mean you've got...

GENT

Well not exactly. But, if you help us we'll help you. The Forces Of Darkness have won the day... but, tomorrow is another one

SAM

What do I have to do.

GENT

You must save the day.

The platform has stopped. The Gent pulls out a drawer. He reaches inside.

The Gent pulls out a wonderful sword and helmet.

GENT

This is the Sword Of Truth... and this the Helmet Of Justice.

As Sam begins to strap on the weapon the Gent brings out a cape.

GENT

And this completes the outfit.

He puts the cape around Sam's shoulders and helps him step into the drawer. A moment's hesitation and then Sam outs the helmet on and lies down in the drawer. It fits just like a coffin.. As he lies back the Gent pushes the drawer in.

GENT

It won't be pleasant but, trust me.

As the drawer is pushed in Sam suffers a sudden bout of claustrophobia. Looking up at the diministing opening he is surprised to see – not the face of the Jolly Gent – but a terrifying SAMURAI WARRIOR'S MASKED HELMET. Sam struggles to prevent the drawer being closed.

INT. SAM'S FLAT – NIGHT

Sam is grabbing the walls of the fridge. Water from the defrosted freezer compartment drips on his head. He wakes up. Before he can really take in where he is the phone rings. He staggers over to it.

SAM

Hello... hello...

PHONE VOICE

Hello. Mr. Lowry?

SAM

Who's that?

(pause)

A sound at the kitchen door turns Sam's head – and ours – just in time to half see a quick blurred movement, but then a rapid voice in his ear-piece brings his head back.

PHONE VOICE

Put the phone down and your hands up.

SAM

(into the phone)

What? Who is this?

Sam realises that the voice is also in the room behind him. He turns round and sees TUTTLE. Tuttle is middle-aged, a short tough figure dressed in dark clothes suggesting a cross between a cat burglar and a night-raid commando. In one hand he holds a gun pointed at Sam. The other hand is holding a telephone receiver which Tuttle is in the act of placing in the large capacious bag at his feet. Sam puts down his phone, and his hands up.

TUTTLE

Nice and easy now. Keep your hands where I can see them.

SAM

What is this?

(indignantly)

Who the hell are you?

Tuttle, keeping the gun on Sam, goes to different doors, leaning backwards into bedroom, bathroom and closet.

Tuttle suddenly relaxes and pockets his gun.

TUTTLE

Harry Tuttle. Heating engineer. At your service.

SAM

Tuttle! Are you from Central Services?

TUTTLE

Ha!!

SAM

But... I called Central Services.

TUTTLE

They're a bit overworked these days. Luckily I intercepted your call.

SAM

What?

By now, both are pouring with sweat. Tuttle heads across the room and swiftly begins to undo a wall panel.

SAM

Wait a minute, what was that business with the gun?

Tuttle hands Sam the panel and plunges his arm into the space behind it.

TUTTLE

A little precaution, sir. I've had traps set for me before now. There are people in Central Services who'd love to get their hands on Harry Tuttle.

SAM

Are you saying this is illegal?

By now Tuttle has managed to pull out some sections of flexible ducting from the welter of mechanical offal behind the removed panel. It is all very complicated and greasy and it looks as though there is a lot more where that came from. Tuttle is amazingly neat and deft as he works. A real pro. As he works he hums a wee tune... yes... "BRAZIL"!!

TUTTLE

Well, yes... and no. Officially, only Central Service operatives are supposed to touch this stuff... Could you hold these.

TUTTLE

(he hands Sam a bunch of wires that he has detached)

... but, with all the new rules and regulations... unncgh, c'mon, c'mon... they can't get decent staff any more... so... they tend to turn a blind eye... as long as I'm careful.

(he hands Sam a torch)

... Mind you, if ever they could prove I'd been working on their equipment... well, that's a different matter... up a bit with the torch, sir.

SAM

Sorry. wouldn't it be easier just to work for Central Services?

TUTTLE

Couldn't stand the pa – ah – we're getting warm –

SAM

The pace?

TUTTLE

The paperwork, couldn't stand the paperwork.

(indicating the torch)

Over to the left please, if you don't mind sir. Hold it there. Yes, there's more bits of paper in Central Services than bits of pipe – read this, fill in that, hand in the other – listen, this old system of yours could be on fire and I couldn't even turn on the kitchen tap without filling in a 27B/6... Bloody paperwork.

SAM

(mildly)

Well I suppose one has to expect a certain amount

TUTTLE

Why? I came into this game for adventure – go anywhere, travel light, get in, get out, wherever there's trouble, a man alone. Now they've got the whole country sectioned of and you can't move without a form. I'm the last of a breed. Ah ha! Found it! (he holds up a small charred gadget) There's your problem.

SAM

Can you fix it?

TUTTLE

No. But I can bypass it with one of these

He pulls another gadget from his bag.

SAM

Fine.

The door bell. Tuttle grabs for his gun.

TUTTLE

Are you expecting anyone?

SAM

No. Wait here.

He goes out closing the immediate door and goes to the front door which he opens. He is confronted by two officious little men in boiler suits who are standing outside his door. Their names are SPOOR and DOWSER. Dowser is Spoor's echo.

SAM

Yes?

SPOOR

Central Services.

DOWSER

... ervices.

SAM

Uh – what? – I...

SPOOR

You telephone, sir.

DOWSER

... elephoned sir.

SPOOR

Trouble with your air-conditioning.

DOWSER

... ditioning.