We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as PDF or read online on Scribd
You are on page 1/ 123
THE LAST
ACTION HERO
By
Zak Penn and Adam Leff
Current Draft By Shane Black and David Amott
Doctored by
William Goldman
Composite Draft
10/10/92 é
ee
FADE IN:
A SEA OF LIGHTS
Flashing blue. Flashing red.
The BUBBLE LIGHTS of FIFTY L.A.P.D. patrol cars,
BUMPER TO BUMPER. Filing the street.
COPS run every which way. Padded vests. Kevlar body armor.
SWAT TEAMS in military fatigues. From the expression on faces,
we get the idea there’s some SERIOUS SHIT HERE ~
centered on the roof of an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL,
A POLICE LIEUTENANT shivers in his trench coat: this is DEKKER.
Black.Tough. Not only eats nails for breakfast, but likes them...
POLICE LIEUTENANT DEKKER
Helluva way to spend Christmas.
Tums to a nearby ROOKIE:
DEKKER
Secure the sidewalks. No one in or out.
He's cut off as a BURST OF GUNFIRE STRAFES the cars. |
Glass shatters. Cops dive for cover. :
The gunfire abruptly CEASES -- bits of shrapnel PINGING to the ground —
and a VOICE issues from the roof:
VOICE
HO HO HO, GOT A PRESENT FOR YOU, PIGS!
A semi-automatic rifle sails over the edge of the roof,
Clatters to the ground. It’s followed by the corpse of a SWAT SNIPER.
tf ands on the roof of a police car. The windows blow out.
Flying glass cuts faces of policemen around the car.
VOICE
1 WARNED YOU, NO CUTE STUFF. 1
(beat)
NOW BRING ME MY HELICOPTER-OR I START
THROWING KIDS NEXTI!!!
DEKKER, staring up at the roof. Face contorted in rage. |
DEKKER
Let the children go!! Goddamn you, Ripper
Silence meets his request. A ROOKIE COP steps up to him.
ROOKIE
Perimeter’s secure sir. An armored division
couldn’t get thru it
‘CUT TO BOOTED FEET O
Trudging forward, relentless, powerful. They aren't walking on pavement.
There's no sidewalk beneath the boots. They're walking on police cars,
A lone figure strides ACROSS ROOFS,
wading thru a SEA OF FLASHING LIGHT like a juggeraut.
Dressed casually in a bomber jacket and jeans.
T-shirt with a slight tear near the shoulder. Cigar. Three-day stubble.
A .44 Ruger Biackhawk, the BIGGEST GUN EVER MADE,
perches in his hand like an old friend.
SERGEANT JACK SLATER is in a bad mood tonight.
EXT. POLICE BARRICADES - SAME
SLATER steps from the hood of a patrol car. Heads for the barricades,
never breaking stride. DEKKER glares at SLATER, moves alongside.
DEKKER
Don't even think it, Slater. You hear me? You're
gonna sit and wait for the real hostage
negotictor.
SLATER keeps walking, eyes front.
DEKKER
Goddammit, Jack, lam TALKING to you. Last
time you pulled this shit, people lost body
parts!
SLATER walks.
DEKKER
If you go in there it's your BADGE!
SLATER takes out his badge, throws it at DEKKER, keeps on walking,
‘ DEKKER stops, watches as
TWO EXTREMELY WELL-DRESSED MEN. move into SLATER’s path...
SLATER
(not stopping)
It would be best for everybody if you got out
of my way ~
THE MAYOR
(moving backwards as he
talks)
Jack = | know as Mayor of this great
metropolis, you and | have had the
occasional litle tiff —
(oeackwards)
-- but this is the Lieutenant Governor —- he’s
flown in personally to monitor the situation -
Composite Draft
sonae2
