A bit of a disclaimer for screenwriting purists out there: I
have been writing this adaptation in MS Word as an exercise, mostly in working
with the film format. I am fully aware
that some of my formatting is off, as I'm not using my Scriptware
or Final Draft programs for this. This
is for pure fun; no profit is being gained from this – standard disclaimer that
all song lyrics contained herein are Tim Rice's, except for the "Glöm mig om
du kan" translation that
you won't read until I'm 2/3 – 3/4 of the way through this, which are lyrics by
Bjorn Ulvaeus and translated/adapted by yours
truly. I will try to post weekly, if
you're looking for a schedule for reading this.
CHESS
by
Tim Rice, Michael Bennett, Richard Nelson, Robert Coe, David H. Bell, Björn Ulvaeus, Jan Mark, Lars Rudolfsson - as adapted for the screen
by Thom Boyer
Based on the musical Chess.
Original text © 1984, 1986, 1988, and 1990, by Tim Rice, © 1988 and 1991 by Richard Nelson, © 1990 by Robert Coe.
BLACK:
A lilting, music box waltz begins to play on a set of pizzicato strings.
FADE IN:
The waltz continues. The frame is concentrated on a painted face – an intense gaze, soft, brown hair wisped in the wind; his neck is hidden by a light olive scarf. We PAN BACK to reveal more of the image. His coat is black, and there are other people behind him, their faces equally stern as they parade down the street of a European city. Flying above is a flag striped red, white, and green from top to bottom. The center has been cut out. Four large, black letters at the top reveal this to be a magazine cover – the 7 January 1957 issue of TIME, their "Man of the Year" issue. The caption on the cover reveals the Man to be "Hungarian Freedom Fighter."
FADE TO:
EXT. CATHEDRAL
SURTITLE: "Budapest, Hungary – November 1956."
A Soviet tank rolls by silently as the waltz continues. Soldiers have gathered outside the cathedral, assessing ways to break down the barricaded entrance, but we hear none of it - Only the waltz.
INT. CATHEDRAL
Start on the ceiling. As we PAN DOWN, we notice that the church has been gutted. Every pew, table, altar piece, and anything not dedicated to the physical support of the building has been piled up against every entrance and window, save one obscured ARCHWAY that some FREEDOM FIGHTERS are trying to clear away. We begin to hear the huddled masses inside having desperate whispered conversations with each other. As we PAN AROUND, we reveal, very distinctly, a clean-shaven man, GREGOR VASSY in his early 30s, sitting across from his four-year old daughter, YOUNG FLORENCE at a chess board. He is setting up a new game. The pieces are ancient and starkly wood-carven. Once all the pieces are set up, he opens the game.
GREGOR
(waiting for his daughter to move)
Each game of chess means there's one less/Variation left to be played./Each day got through means one or two/Less mistakes remain to be made.
She responds correctly; he smiles.
GREGOR
(as he makes another move)
Good!
Florence smiles at her father and looks to move, but the game is interrupted. An explosion is heard; pandemonium ensues among the crowd inside the center as freedom fighters guide them in a mass exodus to the ARCHWAY.
POV OVER YOUNG FLORENCE'S SHOULDER
Gregor quickly picks up two pieces from the board - two kings, one black and one white. He grabs Florence and brings her over to a FEMALE REFUGEE standing by the archway. The refugee lifts her up.
CU YOUNG FLORENCE'S HAND as he gives her the white piece.
GREGOR
(shutting her hand)
Flora - here!
POV OVER YOUNG FLORENCE'S SHOULDER
He smiles desperately as the female refugee carries her off; he remains in the center of the frame.
YOUNG FLORENCE
(struggling)
Apukàd!
CU GREGOR'S JACKET POCKET
He swiftly plunges his hand into his pocket, leaving the black king inside.
POV YOUNG FLORENCE
GREGOR
(calling to Florence)
Don't worry - They'll meet again!
Gregor picks a rifle up from the ground and runs off screen. We hear shouting and gunfire as the catacomb-like tunnel from the archway envelops the frame.
Title: "CHESS"
BEGIN OPENING CREDITS over the following set of scenes:
EXT CATHEDRAL (BACK DOOR) – BEFORE DAWN
FOCUS on Florence as she and the female refugee emerge from the cathedral. A non-descript truck is waiting. The female refugee pushes her way through a crowd.
FLORENCE (V.O.)
Not much is known/Of early days of chess beyond a fairly vague report/that fifteen hundred years ago,/Two princes fought, though brothers/For a Hindu throne.
POV FEMALE REFUGEE
Florence is handed to a man inside the truck. Inside are mostly mothers with their children; a few freedom fighters. Florence is alone as the truck drives off.
FREDDIE (V.O.)
Their mother cried /For no one really likes their offspring fighting to the death. / She begged them stop the slaugher with her every breath /But sure enough, one brother died.
CUT TO:
INT. SUBURBAN HOME - FREDDIE'S ROOM - DAY
A child, YOUNG FREDDIE, lies stomach down on the floor in front of a chess set. He moves some pieces around, demonstrating beginner's skill. We don't see much detail of the room, just that the floor is hardwood and the walls are white, save some obscured black-and-white posters.
WALTER (V.O.)
Sad beyond belief /She told her winning son /You have caused such grief /I can't forgive this evil thing you've done!
FADE TO:
EXT. GROUNDS OF AN IVY LEAGUE CAMPUS - MORNING
FREDDIE and FLORENCE enjoy a relaxing game of chess in an idyllic setting.
FLORENCE (V.O.)
He tried to explain/How things had really been
FREDDIE (V.O.)
But he tried in vain/No words of his -
FREDDIE & FLORENCE (V.O.)
Would satisfy the queen!
ARBITER (V.O.)
And so, he asked the wisest men he knew/The way to lessen her distress./They told him he'd be pretty certain to impress/By using model soldiers on a chequered board/To show it was his brother's fault...
FLORENCE, FREDDIE, & ARBITER (V.O.)
They thus invented chess!
CUT TO:
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING IN MOSCOW
TWO AGENTS escort YOUNG ANATOLY to a black, luxurious car parked alongside the curb.
FADE TO:
INT. CLASSROOM
A very formal scene. A GRANDMASTER sits across from YOUNG ANATOLY, giving him a chess lesson.
ANATOLY (V.O.)
Chess displayed no inertia -/Soon spread to Persia, then west.
CUT TO:
INT. ARENA - DAY
Anatoly has just defeated his teacher; a crowd cheers.
SVETLANA (V.O.)
Next the Arabs refined it -/Thus redesigned, it progressed.
FADE TO:
INT. ARENA - LATER
ALEXI MOLOKOV presents SVETLANA, a cute but mousy 20-something to Anatoly. Anatoly gives her a somber glance; she smiles faintly.
MOLOKOV (V.O.)
Still further yet/And when Constantinople fell in 1453/One would have noticed every other refugee/Included in his bags a set.
INT. ANATOLY'S HOME - DUSK
Svetlana looks on as Anatoly concentrates solely on the board.
SVETLANA (V.O.)
Once in the hands/And in the minds of leading figures of the Renaissance/The spirit and the speed of chess made swift advance/ Through all of Europe's vital lands.
She moves to embrace him, but he gets out of his seat before she has a chance. We briefly follow Anatoly through his lavish home.
ANATOLY (V.O.)
When we must record/The game was further changed/Right across the board/The western touch upon the pieces ranged -
CUT TO:
INT. ARENA
A banner hangs overhead, flanked by a Soviet flag and an American flag. Written on it in bold letters is "Trumper vs. Karpov." We watch as spectators take down the American flag and wrap Freddie up in it. He is then lifted by his fans. We faintly hear an enthusiastic "USA! USA! USA!..." underneath the music.
FLORENCE, FREDDIE, & WALTER (V.O.)
King, and queen, and rook,/And bishop, knight, and pawn...
ANATOLY, MOLOKOV, & SVETLANA
...All took on the look/We know today -
ALL SIX (V.O.)
The modern game was born!
INT. NON-DESCRIPT PRESS ROOM (BROADCAST VIEW)
Lining the proscenium of the stage is an array of flags from nations across the globe. A man stands at the podium.
The ARBITER, a cool, clear-headed, nondescript man in his late-30s of neither American nor Soviet background, is surrounded by microphones and elegantly dressed women. The women – his four ASSISTANTS - lean closely to the ARBITER as he faces the camera.
ARBITER
With such success/We see a game that started by mistake in Hindustan/And boosted in the main by what is now Iran/Reach every corner of the globe/With nation squaring up to nation/To determine, no holds barred/Who owns, who made, who will parade/The champion of chess!
By now, the OPENING CREDITS should have finished.
FADE TO:
INT. TRAIN--FREDDIE'S PRIVATE CAR - EVENING
SUBTITLE: Italy, 1980.
We start on FREDERICK TRUMPER, a somewhat brash, yet pensive man in his mid-20s with a bit of a playful streak about him. He wears a denim jacket with a button that proclaims "I am a CHESS champion!" He sits across from a custom built chess- playing computer that takes up the other chair entirely. A soft string variation on "The Story of Chess" plays in the background, and just as a flute trills, the computer starts whirring.