A ‘scriptment’ for BMW’s The Hire short film series by LR Forgues
Originally written 2002 / 3
Inspired by, and intended for submission to, one of the most intriguing advertising campaigns I’ve ever seen, to this day…that being BMW’s The Hire series of short films / commercials – a two ‘season’ experiment helmed by A and B list directors such as Tony Scott (Top Gun), Ang Lee (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), Guy Ritchie (Snatch), Joe Carnahan (Smokin’ Aces) and John Frankenheimer (Ronin), to name a few.
I was especially taken with Carnahan’s episode, Ticker, with his rapid-fire edits, kinetic action sequences and a cast quickly featuring Don Cheadle (Boogie Nights), Ray Liotta (Goodfellas), Robert Patrick (T2: Judgement Day) and, of course, Clive Owen (Sin City) – in the role that arguably kicked off his film career as the sole recurring character, only ever referred to as ‘The Driver’. Feeling ambitious, with no clue as to the realities of script submission and the overall cut-throat nature of Hollywood, I opted to take the kernel of an idea that Ticker had inspired and ran with it.
Once completed, feeling brave and knowing nothing, I submitted it to some BMW advertising branch and, much to my amazement, I actually got a response.
Sure, that response used terms like ‘…can not accept…’ and something about ‘…unsolicited material’…but I was elated. I had a finished ‘script’…thing, of sorts. And there was nothing I could legally do with it, so into my hefty collection of various notes and treatments I’ve squirreled away over the last 3 decades it went!
But the time has come to dust it off, get it transcribed from my one and only remaining hard copy, and spruce it up for the Modern Reader…You…all the while praying this doesn’t some how come back to bite me in the ass…BMW-style.
So, please…enjoy.
TITLE CARD:
‘Anonymous Content
Presents
CROSS OVER’
CUT from BLACK
The late-afternoon sun, CENTRED in frame huge and shimmering. Hold for a beat. This vast orange globe FADES into the crimson symbol of the Japanese national flag. The round insignia then PULLS AWAY and we see that it adorns the smooth flank of sleek private jet, a late-model Jetstar, in flight through late afternoon sunlight.
It begins to descend.
As we watch it gracefully drop in altitude, we hear the radio sounds of Air Traffic Control.
V/O:
Pilot: “Jetstar Tiger 4 on final.”
ATC: “Copy, JT4, we have you on scope. Your approach looks good and you’re cleared for Runway 10-North.”
Pilot: “Roger, Tower. Solid copy. Is ground transport ready for our principal?”
Hard CUT
Sitting on the edge of the vast, empty tarmac is a beautiful, silvery-blue BMW sport sedan (Model to be selected), bathed in the golden rays of late afternoon California. A handsomely rugged driver (as portrayed by Clive Owen) sits motionless in the driver’s seat, alert without appearing so behind a pair of stylish sunglasses (advertising cross-over?), waiting patiently.
V/O continues…
ATC: “That’s affirmative, JT4…he’s there.”
A cell phone bleats to life. ‘The Driver’ smoothly pulls it out from an inside pocket, flips it open with barely a movement, and answers…
“Hello? Yes. I’m there, no problem. Smooth sailing, all the way.”
He listens to the response and glances at the Rolex adorning a wrist…
“She’ll be on the ground momentarily then?”
CUT
Watching him from over the shiny car’s hood, we TRACK past the front end and STOP. The Jetstar appears in the background, dropping INTO FRAME from out of the deep blue sky. We RACK FOCUS, the plane seeming to hang motionlessly, small but growing. After a beat, we RACK BACK to ‘The Driver’ as he turns in his seat to watch the approaching aircraft through the BMW’s back window, phone still held to his ear.
CUT
TIGHT on ‘The Driver’s stubbled face as he looks past us, around the BMW’s front seat. In the polished reflection of the shades, we can see the Jetstar on its final approach, nearing the tarmac. After a moment, he responds again…
“Yes sir…straight there, no stops for any reason. Perfectly understood.”
He turns back.
CUT
TIGHT on ‘The Driver’ through the windshield as he glances down at something we cannot see, continuing the conversation…
“Yes sir…I’ve got my eye out for him, or any of the known associates.”
CUT to the object of his attention. Tight. Laying open in his lap is a file folder, adorned with both Japanese and English law enforcement scrawl. He opens it and from within, he pulls a glossy surveillance-type photo of a sinister-looking Asian man exiting a vehicle – dark shades, ponytail, gold earrings and a dark expensive suit. Beneath that, we glimpse a tabloid article featuring another photo of the same man, at a large party this time, adorned in a cream-coloured jacket with an arm slung protectively around a stunningly beautiful young Japanese woman, who looks less than thrilled to be there. We can see a cordless microphone clenched in her delicate fingers. Slowly, we PUSH IN on the photo, zeroing in on the strained smile of the mysterious female. The sound of a jet’s approaching engine rises in time with the camera move.
CUT
We are slowly tracking along the driver’s side of the BMW. As we reach him, ‘The Driver’ looks up as the landing jet steaks past in the background, seen through the passenger side window. The tires hit in a screech of rubber and blue smoke and it rolls away, slowing.
CUT
Wide, telephoto shot of the jet slowing and turning on the runway, pivoting onto the service-way, approaching where the BMW is parked, the whine of the engines faint.
CUT
Tight, with a slow, deliberate Push In on ‘The Driver’ as he watches the jet taxi toward him. We can see it reflected in his shades, growing in size as it approaches.
CUT
Wide. The aircraft, looming in the background, continues its taxi toward the luxury sedan, poised in the foreground. Pulses of heat distort the scene from where we watch. Just when impact seems imminent, the Jetstar brakes to a halt, the engine whine dropping in pitch.
CUT
‘The Driver’, leans back, settling into the plush seating, watching and waiting for what comes next.
CUT
Wide. We see the two grossly mismatched vehicles poised facing each other on the tarmac, neither moving. A silent stand-off. All is tinged orange and hot. After a beat…the jet’s hatchway begins to yawn open.
CUT
Tight on the hatch as it cycles open toward us, lowering to the ground and locking in its OPEN position. After a beat – a man’s head emerges from the darkness of the cabin. He’s a powerfully-built white male sporting oddly intellectual-looking glasses that defy the gruff appearance. From the protective cover of the jet, he scans the surrounding area with the practiced eye of a professional bodyguard. The service area looks deserted, as per prior instructions. His scan falls on the BMW where it waits patiently.
CUT
Tight on ‘The Driver’, catching the bodyguard’s roving eye as it settles on him. After a beat…he gives him ‘the nod’ of professional acknowledgment, sunglasses glinting as he moves.
CUT
Tight on the bespectacled tough guy. Returning ‘the nod’, a ringed hand emerges from the jet’s inner shadows in a terse gesture toward a spot on the tarmac, on the aircraft’s 3 o’clock position.
The BMW was currently sitting at 12.
CUT
‘The Driver’ reaches forward to start the car.
CUT
Tight on the BMW-engraved key as he turns it. The car revs to life, quickly settling into a confident purr.
CUT
Wide. Pulses of heat in the late afternoon sun. We see the sedan slip away from its position to drive over to the indicated spot. It stops with precision.
CUT
In a leisurely track around the freshly parked car, front-to-back, we take in the lines and the shine as we admire its sleekness. The robust inline V6 continues its mesmerizing purr. As we reach the trunk, we rack focus, zeroing in on the bodyguard framed in the doorway past the car. Turning his attention back into the plane’s cabin, he gestures to someone unseen and falls back into the shadows.
CUT
Tight on ‘The Driver’ as he watches past us, professionally expressionless. Reflected in his shades, there’s activity happening.
CUT
Tight on the doorway as two fatigue-clad Japanese men in black, no insignias visible, fill the space the bodyguard just vacated, smoothly clambering down the steps, HK MP-5 sub-machine guns held at ready as they take up ready positions between the jet and the car. The bodyguard fills the door again, scanning.
CUT
‘The Driver’ watches coolly.
CUT
With the pair of armed contractors in place, the bodyguard again falls back, clearing the exit for the next person. He respectfully bows…and she emerges, with all falling into dramatic slow–motion as she does.
A stunningly beautiful young Japanese woman in a form-flattering power-suit, undoubtedly custom fit, in plush velvety black, steps out into the brilliant orange glare of late-afternoon California. She pushes a pair of silvery sunglasses (advertising cross-over?) up her perfectly even nose, hiding her famous almond-shaped brown eyes. Even from the car, ‘The Driver’ can tell the shades are expensive. It’s the girl from the tabloid cut-out. As he watches, his professional cool hiding his awe, a gust of warm wind catches her stunning mane of black hair, making it dance on the breeze. She steps down, $2000 heels alighting the first step.
‘The Driver’ speaks, in V/O…
“So, this is it. The big cross-over. This gorgeous creature you see here is Lily Tiger. She is the reigning Japanese Princess of Pop, and she’s making her transition to a hungry North American audience, an audience craving something just a little more…exotic, than just another ex-Mouseketeer.”
Watching her again, slow-motion continuing, she could very well be the physical personification of grace, a breathtaking Asian beauty matched with a practiced but sexy sophistication.
CUT
Tight on her expensive heels coming down on the hot tarmac and walking toward us, at 24 FPS.
CUT
Push in on ‘The Driver’ as he continues staring past us, out the passenger-side window, eyes still hidden behind his own shades.
V/O continues…
“This arrangement you see unfolding is the direct result of an unusually shrewd and wholly independent decision on this lady’s part, fueled by a deep-seeded desire to branch out, to reach new and responsive audiences, to finally go…international. Everybody supported this…everybody but her homeland representation, with one in particular having proved to be somewhat…problematic.”
CUT
Smooth tracking slowly moves the car out of frame for a full body reveal of the approaching woman, framed by the fuselage of the idling jet. She moves with a feline precision, there is confidence in her strut as she approaches, something defiant.
CUT
The two sentries holding in their positions both nod their helmeted heads in a quick bow of respect…before continuing to scan for threats as she sashays past.
V/O continues…
“How hot a commodity this young star is, was unrealized till the rumours rapidly began to surface…rumours of possible ‘managerial’ action, to put it politely, to halt this triumphant State-side emergence became harder and harder to ignore. This was her moment…”
CUT
Tight on ‘Lily Tiger’s perfect face, the shades revealing nothing, but the approaching sedan. She moves past, out of frame, and we rack focus on one of the Jetstar’s idling engines.
V/O continues…
“…her explosion onto the scene, if you will.”
Suddenly, a shrill hiss cuts in, loud in an instant over the whine of the turbines. It peaks with a loud *Bang!* of impact.
*RAPID FIRE EDITING FROM THIS POINT*
CUT
Tight on the jet engine. A large, ragged hole is abruptly punched into the curved aluminum skin and the engine housing shudders violently. Something akin to a thunder-clap crashes over the tarmac, the shot delayed by distance. We hear the shrill whine suddenly cutting out in a series of muted thuds and rapidly grinding metal, sparks and smoke spurting out.
CUT
In dramatic slow-motion, ‘Lily Tiger’ whirls around, exposed in the open, those gorgeously stoic features cruelly twisted by a burst of shock and fear.
The two sentries leap into action, urgently grabbing and pushing the panicked woman toward the car.
CUT
Slow motion. Tight on her sunglasses hitting the tarmac, a lens cracking, as she’s herded along.
CUT
The bodyguard yells down from the open doorway…
“Get her outta here!”
With that, he yanks a nickel-plated Desert Eagle from a webbed holster beneath his arm, racking the slide as he does, using the doors edge for cover.
CUT
An uncomfortably large chunk of nearby wing blows away in a violent splash of aluminum and fibre-glass, the shriek of the impact punishing. Another crashing shot sounds over the area, rippling away. Amber aviation fuel gouts from the damage, gleaming in the late-day sun as it splashes down, spreading across the tarmac.
CUT
The BMW’s passenger door is unceremoniously yanked open and the woman leaps / is tossed into the seat. As she hunches down, shrinking out of sight, one of the sentries reaches back and yanks a short-barreled Glock from a hidden waist holster in the small of his back. Without waiting, he drops the chunky pistol into her lap and glares past her, meeting eyes with ‘The Driver’s shades, growling…
“Just in case! Now go!”
Addressing the ‘principal’, he mutters something in hushed Japanese, giving a quick bow as he scuttles back, out of sight, crouched protectively alongside the sedan.
CUT
Both sentries search for the source of the shots, glaring through the sights of their weapons with a furious intensity, sweeping the barrels over the direction of the roaring blasts, distorted by pulses of heat.
CUT
Long shot of the scene, centered on the stricken private jet and the poised car before it. We pull back, gliding over the shoulder of a prone sniper poised on the roof of a hangar, engaging from behind the intimidating bulk of a Barrett M82 .50 cal anti-material rifle. A quick scrutinizing look around the scope, and he moves his eye back to the lens, shifting the barrel on the extended bipod for another shot.
CUT
Sniper’s POV. Through the scope we can see the two black-clad sentries falling back toward the jet, weapons raised, the expanding pool of spilled gas visible now. The cross-hairs shift about, searching the chaos for a new target.
CUT
From his seat, ‘The Driver’ looks the woman over, quickly assessing, an expression of concern showing through the handsomely stubbled features. Yanking the shades off, he forcefully questions her…
“Are you injured? Are you hurt?!”
She glances up at him, exposed eyes wide with fear. She glances around hurriedly and, with barely an accent, responds…
“Not yet!”
‘The Driver’, getting her meaning, nods coolly…
“Very well, ma’am.”
CUT
Sniper POV. The crosshairs land on the BMW’s shiny hood.
CUT
Tight on ‘The Driver’s hand coming down on the stick shift, slamming the car into Reverse and mashing the accelerator to the floor.
CUT
The car leaps back, causing the woman to yelp. A spraying geyser of tarmac abruptly erupts in its place with a vicious *Snap!*, showering the windshield with black pebbles. He hits the brake and the sedan screeches to a quick halt. Both occupants, eyes wide with shocked amazement, stare at the new hole marring the blacktop ahead, smouldering just before the car’s sleek bumper.
CUT
Sniper POV. He curses (V/O), struggling to realign the cross-hairs on the shape of the car’s driver. Before he can fire, a bullet pops past. Then another, closer.
CUT
From the open doorway, the bodyguard crouches, carefully squeezing off round after echoing round from his gleaming hand cannon. He saw the muzzle flash. Shell casing glint as they leap into the light.
CUT
The two sentries take up firing positions near the crippled plane and open up, the combined bursts sounding like torn canvas.
CUT
Tight on one of the jet’s landing gear. Fuels spills into frame, soaking the rubber and spreading around. There’s nothing to stop it.
CUT
We see the shadowy entrance of a nearby hangar, the tall doors sliding open. With a throaty roar, two black Humvee’s race into the fading daylight from within, speeding with purpose toward the unfolding disaster, multiple sinister figures visible within.
CUT
Tight on the BMW’s rear-view mirror. We can see the two heavy trucks tearing in at them, fast approaching through the heat.
‘The Driver’…
“Shit.”
‘Lily Tiger’ follows his gaze, her own eyes widening suddenly…
“Oh my god…it’s him. Drive!”
‘The Driver’ turns his attention forward and with a subtle but confident…
“Yes ma’am.”
…slams the car into First, working the clutch as he punches the gas. The sporty sedan lurches forward, sweeping over the new crater and pushing them both back into their seats with a chirp of the tires. In a blur of action, ‘The Driver’ swings the BMW’s wheel over, aiming the accelerating car for the space below the jet’s fuselage, behind the forward landing gear, which streaks at them, details lost to speed. Realizing what’s about to happen, ‘Lily Tiger’ gapes in disbelief, mouth dropped open as both hands went for her seat belt, head ducking instinctively.
CUT
The sniper, seeing the target fleeing, springs up, raising the heavy weapon to his shoulder, finger finding the trigger, applying pressure.
The next .50 calibre shot never happens for him.
CUT
The bodyguard and the sentries open up in unison on the sniper’s shape showing against the sky, rearing up on the hangar across the landing apron.
*gunfire*
CUT
As some rounds hiss and pop past, several mercilessly tear into the sniper, jerking him back in a spray of crimson, the red mist vibrant in the setting sun. As he collapses, the Barrett fires one last time with a deafening report.
He’s dead before the echo fades, and the bloodied rifle will eventually be found lying uselessly across a shredded torso by the authorities.
CUT
The already damaged engine, struggling not to smash into fiery pieces all over the blacktop as it attempts an Emergency Shut Down around the damage already sustained, is doomed as the errant final round tears through in a shower of sparks and hot metal.
CUT
Shaken loose, an ugly chunk of crippled jet engine drops away in a burst of sparks, trailing smoking pieces as it falls. In tight, we see the debris slam down on the fuel-soaked tarmac. It ignites with a hellish roar, instantly filling our view with billowing flames.
CUT
Wide. The Jetstar, opposite side. The BMW streaks out from underneath the jet, just barely clearing as it speeds away, an angry blast of red fire in hot pursuit.
CUT
‘Lily Tiger’ spins in her seat in shaky close-up, staring past us wide-eyed and pale with shock out the car’s back window. A sudden flare of fire-light accents her features and she jerks back, a scream hitching in her throat.
Hard CUT
The rest of the fumes chose that moment to ignite.
The sleek body of the Jetstar ripples apart in a series of violent blasts. A roiling fireball punches skyward, the body-thumping *Boom!* felt across the airport. Twisted shreds of wing, launched skyward in a fiery spray, crash down, just missing the fleeing sedan as it peels away. A split second later, the front landing gear buckles, twisting and breaking free under the explosive punishment, the heat of the burning fuel it was soaked in further weakening load-bearing pieces, dropping the furiously burning bulk to the ground with a thunderous buckling crash.
CUT
Tight on the Rising Sun logo smashing apart in the impact, flames leaping out to devour, pieces spraying in all directions as our view is then choked off by a curling wash of ugly black smoke.
Hard CUT
Interior lead Humvee, Driver POV. As the driver expertly steers to keep the escaping car in sight, the sedan beyond the hood is abruptly eclipsed by the bulk of the collapsing aircraft striking the blacktop, instantly cutting them off. With no time to stop, the Humvee slams into the fiery wreckage, exploding through the ruined fuselage at an uncompromising angle, to slam down on its side, out of the chase as it slides to an unceremonious stop beyond the flames, surrounded by a spread of smoking aircraft parts.
More of the plane catches fire with a *whoomph!*.
The other truck slams on its brakes, squealing to a stop just feet from catastrophe, where the lead vehicle was seemingly swallowed by the flaming wall of ruin that abruptly crashed down in their path. Arguing voices can be heard as the occupants marvel and curse at the chaotic display before them, the added heat distorting our view. Moments later, there’s the throaty rumble of a Detroit Diesel V8, and Humvee Number 2 launches forward, accelerating around the destruction with the high growl of rising RPM’s, tearing after the shrinking shape of the Beamer.
CUT
The BMW races past as we glide our way back from the scene of the action, expertly ducking onto the runway and accelerating away, the black Humvee falling in trail in the distance, determined to catch up, backdropped by the tall column of oily black smoke and the first red and blue twinkles of emergency vehicles approaching from the other direction, all lit in the warm glow of California’s Golden Hour. As we watch, the ominous truck speeds at us, the demeanor aggressive, following the same path the high-end German car took.
CUT
Tight on the Hummer’s windshield as it races along. The driver is a large muscular Asian male glaring over the wheel with murderous intent, bulging arms adorned with a gallery of ink. The eyes are locked and never waver, even in the glare of the late afternoon light that strobes across them. Tracking left, we come to the passenger. It’s the same male suspect from the photos in the file! He looks pissed. He brings up a small cell phone and punches in a number.
Tight. We are BMW bumper-level, racing along the runway, fleeing at high speed, the blur of the black-top streaking below us. The engine roars confidently. Into this, we hear a cell phone ring.
CUT
Over the hood, through the windshield. We see both of them in a ‘2 shot’, with the dark speck of the pursuing Humvee growing between them through the back window. In unison, ‘The Driver’ and Lily Tiger both raise cell phones to answer. It’s hers.
*Dialogue – Japanese, English sub-titles. The pursuing caller goes first…
“*Lily, be reasonable. This is foolish! You can’t escape your creator…I made you! You owe it all to me!”
“You’re wrong, Kenji! My fans created me…and I love them for it! I belong to my audience, who give so much! I go where I’m wanted…and I’m wanted here! There’s nothing you can do! After tonight…”
(cutting her off)
”Well, real simple then, if I can’t have you…then no one will, you back-stabbing bitch.”
CUT
Tight on ‘The Driver’ as he watches out of the corner of his eye.
CUT
‘Lily Tiger’ shrieks in anger and frustration, snapping the phone shut and aggressively wiping at a tear. Then, she notices the Glock between her toned thighs. With surprising skill and precision, she hefts the gun and racks the slide. Pistol raised, she turns in her seat and before ‘The Driver’ can stop her, she lowers the window and quickly leans out, leveling the gun at the chasing Humvee.
CUT
Tight. ‘Kenji’ slowly lowers his phone, straining to see what he thinks he sees through the windshield.
CUT
‘Kenji’s POV. Using the side of the speeding sedan to steady herself, ‘Lily Tiger’, dark mane snapping in the wind around her doll-like features, is pointing a black pistol…directly at us!
He yells out a guttural warning and ducks out of sight.
CUT
‘Lily Tiger’ squeezes the trigger, the gunshot loud.
CUT
‘The Driver’ flinches at the shot…but never loses control of the car.
CUT
We see the round punch a hole through the Hummer’s windshield, right where ‘Kenji’s head had just been.
CUT
Tight on the bullet hole. A shrill wind whistles through the punctured glass. Rack focus as ‘Kenji’ cautiously rises up from below the dash behind it, eyes locked on the damage in amazement. The fact that ‘Lily Tiger’ just did that dumbfounds him utterly.
CUT
Long shot of the two vehicles, the Humvee gaining, as they race over the huge white lettering identifying the runway they’re tearing over.
CUT
‘The Driver’ glances over at ‘Lily Tiger’, then at the rear-view mirror.
CUT to ‘Kenji’ as he lets go with something like a growl, barking something in Japanese. From the back seat, a henchman hands up a Steyer Aug assault rifle. ‘Kenj’i puzzles over it for a moment…then locates the cocking bolt, racking it quickly. Ready, he jams it to his shoulder and presses the barrel to the 9mm hole in the glass. He fires.
CUT
Tight on the BMW’s shiny trunk. A hole tears into the metal with a scream.
CUT
‘The Driver’ and ‘Lily Tiger’ both flinch in unison. She doesn’t hesitate, angrily leaning around the window and straight-arming the Glock, popping off round after quick round.
CUT
The Hummer, racing at us, abruptly swerves back and forth in an attempt to evade the barrage. Hot rounds slam into the truck in a symphony of ricochets.
CUT
‘Kenji’ ducks back as another round gets through, spraying him with powdered glass and ripping into the headrest behind him.
CUT
Tight. The pistol fires one last time…and locks open, empty.
CUT
‘Lily Tiger’ drops back in, the now-useless weapon clenched in a hand. ‘The Driver’ looks over in amazement. She catches his eye and sheepishly says…
“I was in a movie once.”
As if that explained everything. ‘The Driver’ cocks his head and simply replies…
“OK, ma’am.”
…as if it were all suddenly so clear to him now. Another bullet strikes the car with a sharp crack and he turns his attention back to escaping. He slams into next gear.
CUT
RPM’s rapidly close on red-line.
CUT
Rear shot following the BMW as it races along. It surges away with a fresh burst of speed.
CUT
‘Kenji’ struggles to get a good shot. It’s not going to happen. He lowers the rifle and grabs a CB mike, barking out orders in Japanese with frantic urgency.
CUT
BMW bumper shot, looking forward. The asphalt streaks below us in a blur. We can see the end of the runway fast approaching, a heavy chain-link fence stretched across our view.
CUT
Tight on ‘The Driver’. He scans the rapidly approaching obstacle and makes a quick mental calculation. He yanks the steering wheel over.
CUT
The BMW responds like a striking cobra, flying off the black-top and onto a service route off the runway.
CUT
Wide. The sedan races away from the runway, tearing at us. Behind, the speeding Hummer makes a sluggish turn to follow. A 747 suddenly lifts off behind the action, drowning out all sound with the roar of its engines.
CUT
‘The Driver’. As he glares at the road ahead, something catches his eye, drawing his laser-like focus.
CUT
Sitting just beyond the gate at the end of the service-way is a sleek black Jaguar, all tinted windows and dark mags.
CUT
Tight. The Jag’s passenger-side window. In the reflection we can see the Beamer racing up the service way toward the ominous car. The window whirs down and the stubby barrel of a nickel-plated 12-gauge shotgun emerges into the daylight.
CUT
‘Lily Tiger’ and ‘The Driver’ both see the gun.
CUT
Tight. The shotgun is cocked by persons unseen. Straight at us!
CUT
‘The Driver’ reacts, reaching over quickly to force ‘Lily Tiger’s head down, out of the line of fire. Continuing the move, he grabs the E-brake and yanks hard, spinning the wheel.
CUT
The shotgun fires.
CUT
‘The Driver’ barely registers the *pop* of the slug passing inches from his face as the car slides at the Jaguar, the round passing through window-to-window, just missing ‘Lily Tiger’.
CUT
The Hummer races up, still in hot pursuit.
CUT
Tight on the pursuing truck’s scowling driver. The windshield before him abruptly punches inward and a flower-pattern of crimson sprays the shattered glass.
CUT
‘Kenji’ jerks in surprise and looks over in time to see the driver sag over sideways, a messy hole suddenly in his skull. The Humvee continues the chase, the dead driver’s foot mashed down on the gas.
CUT
The BMW smashes side-ways through the service-way gate, sending debris everywhere and slipping past the Jag.
CUT
‘Kenji’ is stricken, not knowing what to do. In a last-ditch effort, he grabs for his seatbelt.
CUT
The shotgun yanks back into the Jag with a panicked curse in Japanese.
CUT
‘Kenji’s POV. The side of the Jaguar looms up, coming fast. Impact is inevitable.
CUT
Wide. The Jaguar, from the front, as the BMW tears past us in the foreground. The Hummer roars into frame and T-bones the car at full speed. There is an explosion of shattered glass and twisted metal as the two mangled vehicles crash across the road, slamming into the ditch on the other side.
CUT
From behind, the BMW rips into frame and hits the brakes, screeching to a quick stop. A stillness falls over the scene.
CUT
Wide. The accident scene. Nothing moves. The Hummer appears to have almost cut the Jaguar in half. The two vehicles lie heaped on one another, smoke hanging over the pile of metal and glass. We can see a bloody arm hanging limply from the passenger side of the Humvee wreckage.
CUT
Tight on the dangling hand. Trickles of blood run down and drip off limp fingers. We slowly rise up the appendage, coming to ‘Kenji’. The guy is a bloody mess. A snowy spider-web pattern in the windshield marks where he hit. Blood pools on the dash where his head lies. His eyes flicker open and we can see that one of them is now almost black, filled with gore. He looks around in confusion, spastically coughing up some more red. All stops when he sees the BMW idling up the road, motionless past the slumped corpse of the tattooed driver. With a grimace, he tries to speak. All the emerges is a wet rasp.
CUT
‘The Driver’ and ‘Lily Tiger’ watch past us, taking in the scene of vehicular destruction through the rear window. We slowly zoom in on her as she watches in veiled horror. After a moment, her expression morphs into one of relief.
CUT
Growling softly around the pain of his wounds, ‘Kenji’ raises a hand, reaching to the sedan and the prized occupant watching him from the passenger seat. Again, he tries to speak.
CUT
Tight on ‘Lily Tiger’. From her vantage point, she can make out ‘Kenji’s futile movement and meets his eye. With slow deliberation, she shakes her head.
CUT
Tight on ‘The Driver’, watching this silent exchange. He doesn’t know what to make of this.
CUT
Tight on Lily Tiger, still glaring past us, unaware of The Driver’s scrutiny. She smiles…and gives ‘Kenji’ a slow, deliberate seductive wink, a final Fuck You.
CUT
‘Kenji’. His bloodied hand reaches past us as his features contort into a mask of agony and anger. He strains against the pain and opens his mouth to scream. His anguished wail is abruptly drowned out by the high squeal of tires on pavement.
CUT
Tight on the BMW’s rear tire as it spins up a cloud of smoke and tears off again, racing down the road. In the background, we can hear the rising cry of approaching sirens.
CUT
We are looking straight down, from high up, slowly tracking along against the flow of the grid-locked highway spread out below us. Traffic is essentially frozen in place, very little forward movement among the vehicles. As our drifting movement reveals the end of the traffic jam, the BMW suddenly streaks into frame and slams on the brakes, twin trails of burnt rubber forming.
CUT
Mid-shot. We see the last car in the line-up from behind, waiting to move. With a scream of tires, the BMW shrieks into frame, slowing as it slides.
CUT
Tight on the last car’s bumper. The BMW’s own front bumper eases into frame and oh so gently nudges it, leaving no damage and barely registering as contact.
CUT
Tight. ‘The Driver’, betraying no emotion, scans the situation with robot-like precision, glaring over the steering wheel.
CUT
Starting low from behind the Beamer, we crane up (we see bullet holes marring the trunk as we rise) to reveal the frozen river of vehicles lying between them and the famous Los Angeles skyline, all lit in the deepening red of sundown.
CUT
Tight on ‘Lily Tiger’. She glances over the scene, panic showing in her movements. Eyes wide, she says…
“We’re not going to make it!”
CUT
All business, ‘The Driver’ coolly looks over and responds with quiet confidence…
“Nonsense, ma’am. You’ll be there as scheduled.”
CUT
She looks over, disbelief flashing over her features. Gesturing ahead frantically…
“How?!”
The Driver doesn’t respond. Instead, he throws the stick shift into Reverse and hits the gas. The car leaps back, causing an approaching vehicle to abruptly duck into another lane as it approaches, brakes protesting loudly. The BMW screeches to a quick halt and he shifts again, jumping the sedan forward on to the shoulder, blasting past the motionless traffic.
CUT
We get a variety of quick-cutting beauty shots of the car as it rips along the highway’s edge in its race against time, intercut with The Driver and Lily Tiger reacting to the speed, the car, maybe even an obstacle or two.
CUT
Fast approaching is the source of the traffic jam – a car accident ahead. One vehicle lies on its side while the other is crunched into a concrete lane divider, the carnage spread across most of the highway’s width, hence the halted traffic. Motorists stand around talking to police and EMT’s as tow trucks move into position, all lit in the strobe of emergency lighting. One of the trucks is preparing to pull the sideways vehicle down using a pair of heavy steel cables. Over the hustle and bustle of the scene, we hear the fast-approaching snarl of a speeding car rising in volume.
CUT
Various shots of people around the accident scene taking notice, conversations dropping off as they stop to listen to this alarming sound as it rises in volume, glancing around, searching for the source.
CUT
Cables going taut, the tow truck slowly pulls ahead, dragging on the upended vehicle with a groan of grinding metal and the crunch of broken glass.
CUT
With the blare of the horn and the roar of the engine, the BMW blasts into the accident site, expertly avoiding both obstacles and scattering humans.
CUT
‘Lily Tiger’s eyes widen in shock as she sees the crashed car ahead beginning its fall back to its wheels…falling directly into their path! She frantically points, punctuated with a yelp.
CUT
‘The Driver’ clenches his teeth and jams his foot down. The sedan surges forward as though kicked, aimed between the two vehicles that speed at us with intimidating velocity. With virtually no clearance, the speeding car streaks below the tightened tow cables, racing though the gap with reckless abandon. At the same moment…the crashed car gives in to physics and topples over, missing the blur of the Beamer’s rear bumper by mere inches as it crashes down, one of the tires bursting with a gunshot-like *bang!* on impact. The BMW races away, a silvery blur, leaving bewildered and flustered bystanders gaping in awe.
CUT
Wide. The car races in from below, smoothly moving through traffic. Tilting up, we follow the BMW’s movement, losing it as we slow to a stop on the city skyline that swallows the sedan, closer now and bathed in the last light of day.
CUT
Tight, time-lapse telephoto shot of the sun finally vanishing below the horizon, its edges shimmering as it slips out of sight, giving way to night.
CUT
Wide. Night time. Exterior – the venue: a large, new coliseum in the city centre. The whole area is prepped for the big event; dual-language banners hung proudly and spotlights piercing the skies above. There’s the usual horde of predatory paparazzi clustered around the entrance amidst scores of enthusiastic young fans clutching posters and other ‘Lily Tiger’-branded goodies. There’s an air of bustling excitement as they all wait for the big arrival. A long red carpet spills out from the front doors like a large tongue, rolled invitingly to the street.
CUT
From within the racing BMW, ‘Lily Tiger’s POV. Through the windshield, the beams of the venue’s spotlights can be seen in the distance, sweeping back and forth among the buildings ahead.
CUT
Tight on Lily Tiger. As though stricken by child-like wonder, she slowly extends a delicate ringed finger toward the lights. Glancing over, eyes wide, she asks…
“Is that…”
CUT
The Driver fills in the rest…
“The venue? Yes ma’am, it is. We’ll be arriving momentarily.”
CUT
We get a variety of nicely-lit shots of the BMW tearing smoothly though picturesque city settings.
CUT
The venue. Exterior. A lean, slick-looking white American guy in an expensive Italian blazer and slacks paces back and forth on the street before the clamouring throng of fans and professional stalkers, ignoring the passing traffic. This is Lily Tiger’s new management and he glances worriedly down at his Rolex, before throwing a cautious look over a shoulder.
CUT
The gathered crowd of waiting fans are excited, their enthusiasm approaching a fever pitch and making no secret about it, much Lily Tiger merchandise held aloft in the strobe of the sweeping spotlights.
CUT
Her manager turns back, a decision made. Plucking a cell phone from within the blazer, he snaps it open.
CUT
BMW. Interior. We hear a cell phone beep to life again and again, both The Driver and Lily Tiger go for their phones. This time, it’s his.
“Hello?”
CUT
Tight. Her manager digs in, straight to the point….
“Where the hell are you?! She’s due on stage in less than 20 minutes!”
He takes a breath, then asks…
“Were there problems at the airport?”
CUT
The Driver. He glances over at his passenger and after a moment’s pause, he calmly responds…
“None worth mentioning at the moment. Just some irritable drivers along the way. American road rage and such. She’ll be there lickity split.”
Without another word, The Driver hangs up.
CUT
The manager stares down at his phone, the call disconnected. People don’t usually hang up on him, and he’s having trouble processing it. Suddenly, light flashes over and he glances up in surprise.
CUT
The BMW streaks in, flying straight at the manager who was unwise enough to choose the street as his pacing ground. He’s frozen in place, mind blank from the fear.
CUT
The Driver calmly presses down on the brake.
CUT
The BMW abruptly loses speed, still targeted on the paralyzed manager caught in the headlights like a deer on a country road. The sedan slides to a smooth stop, the front bumper left inches from the manager’s pricey slacks. He blinks, for a moment convinced that he must’ve just died. This vanishes when he sees Lily Tiger, his enchanting golden goose, staring up at him from the passenger seat, dumbfounded. As it all sinks in, he mutters…
“Oh…my…god.”
…before leaping into action, suddenly all business. He jams the phone away and rushes around to her side of the car.
CUT
Tight on The Driver as he turns to his client, saying…
“Well, here you are, ma’am. As promised.”
CUT
Lily Tiger looks up as her manager reaches for the handle. Before he can pull it open, she nudges the switch, locking the door. His expression of relief suddenly contorts back into a mask of confusion. Ignoring him, she looks past, taking in the pageantry and adoring crowd. The huge banner welcoming her rustles in the warm California breeze. She looks down, her tone contemplative…
“Yes, here I am. The Big Night…at long last. After everything…my cross over.”
There’s a light thump as her manager tries the still-locked door again, his exasperation showing anew as he stares in imploringly from the sidewalk.
CUT
‘The Driver’ catches her eye and caringly says…
“It’s your night, ma’am…and it’s going to be one for the books. Your star is ready to shine.”
As she nods in agreement, the crowd then takes notice of the car…and of ‘Lily Tiger’ within, as some keen-eyed observer catches a glimpse of the Asian pop princess just visible past the jittery form of her manager and shouts it out. They go absolutely batshit, fresh bustling behind the barricades, excited yells and calls echoing into the night. At the roar of the crowd, her manager winces, before deciding to act. In a grand gesture, he steps aside, turning to face the throng, while proudly gesturing to his gorgeous meal-ticket still seated in the idling car. She doesn’t turn yet, even when the photographers unleash a supernova of flashbulbs.
She pulls the empty Glock out from under her thigh and gently places it on the console between them. She then quickly leans over and plants a kiss on ‘The Driver’s stubbly cheek. In the flashes of camera light, he catches her eyes and cocks his head questioningly. She drops her head shyly, saying…
“Thank you for saving my life.”
He turns to glare out the windshield, his features stoic in the random strobes of light. With a professional steeliness, he responds…
“It’s my job, ma’am.”
Her own response…
“You do it well.”
CUT
The manager can’t take it anymore and turns back to the car, mouthing the words…
“Sometime tonight?!”
There’s a click as ‘Lily Tiger’ unlocks the door and allows herself to be pulled from within, gently but firmly.
CUT
‘The Driver’ watches as she’s ceremoniously presented to the crowd. They go wild. As she prepares to be led into the venue, she seems to suddenly remember something important. She whirls around and slips away from her manager, moving quickly back to the BMW.
CUT
Photographers track her as she moves. The fans gasp in surprise.
CUT
We get a quick series of flashing freeze-frame photos of ‘Lily Tiger’ slipping back to the car, where she opens the passenger-side door and leans down.
CUT
The Driver’s POV. ‘Lily Tiger’ leans in toward us, a certain gravitas in her posed question…
“What’s your name?”
CUT
Before ‘The Driver’ can answer, her manager comes in hot on her trail, an artificial grin still plastered across his features, as though this is all part of the show, pure performance. He again takes her arm, gently but firmly, and insistently pulls her away from the sedan. All falls into slow-motion.
CUT
The Driver’s POV. Slow-motion. We see ‘Lily Tiger’ looking back at him, something emotional in her gaze as she’s herded toward the entrance. The crowd moves after her; fans cheering, reporters reporting.
CUT
Lily Tiger’s POV. Slow motion. We are being pulled away from the BMW, from where we see ‘The Driver’ watching from the luxury car’s cozy confines. The crowd moves in, swallowing the view of the car.
CUT
‘The Driver’s POV. The last thing he sees is two bodyguards taking up statuesque positions at the end of the red carpet. As this happens, we hear a flurry of heavy fabric unfurling. He looks up.
CUT
Two huge flags drop open in announcement of ‘Lily Tiger’s arrival. One is the Star n Stripes, the other the Rising Sun of Japan. Both flank the over-sized Lily Tiger banner. We then hear the deafening roar of the charged-up crowd inside the venue.
CUT
Slow zoom on ‘The Driver‘. He looks thoughtful as he gazes up at the two flags. From a distance, an excited voice on a huge PA system announces ‘Lily Tiger’s arrival onstage and is met with an explosion of applause.
CUT
‘The Driver’s POV. We slowly zoom in on the Japanese flag until the entirety of our lower frame is occupied by the upper curve of the Rising Sun.
Fade to a matching telephoto shot of the sun rising over a flat plain, distorted and shimmering from heat and distance.
We hear the desert wind.
After a beat, we hear a fast-approaching engine and the BMW races into frame, silhouetted against the brilliant orange orb as it tears off into the distance, onto the next job.
CUT to BLACK
Credits roll
THE END
thekneejerkreaction 