Catwoman: Feline Fatale

by Jedd the Jedi

This screenplay returns Catwoman to her roots, dealing with the origins of Catwoman in Selina Kyle's youth and her modern-day exploits.

2. Sprang Juvenile Detention Hall

CATWOMAN: FELINE FATALE PART 2

PRESENT DAY

INT. LESLIE THOMPKINS' CRIME ALLEY CLINIC

Catwoman wakes up. Her mask has been removed and her head bandaged, her eyes and nose red from the irritant. Even under these most unglamorous of situations, Selina is a vision, her lovely face framed by close-cropped black hair. Dr Leslie Thompkins is putting some ointment back in a medicine cabinet.

CATWOMAN:

Leslie…how long have I been out?

LESLIE THOMPKINS:

Two hours. I've seen people recover slower from one of those hits.

CATWOMAN:

And he was using those large ones…not the stuff he throws. And he threw something in my face before that too…gawd, he fights like such a girl!

LESLIE THOMPKINS:

It was a form of enhanced oleoresin capsicum combined with o-Chlorobenzylidene Malononitrile. Police use milder versions as crowd deterrents in riot situations and such.

CATWOMAN:

Wow…that makes it pepper spray and tear gas.

LESLIE THOMPKINS:

I've given you sodium metabisulfite and the effects are wearing off anyway. But…it doesn't feel right doing all this. After all, you are a thief, and he's a…

CATWOMAN:

…Vigilante? Not so noble either.

LESLIE THOMPKINS:

He won't say it, but he cares for you and I think he likes you.

CATWOMAN:

If I went straight, it wouldn't be so interesting.

LESLIE THOMPKINS:

Keep having that attitude and he'll give up on you.

CATWOMAN:

Frankly, I don't give a damn. It's this place.

Catwoman gestures to her sordid surroundings.

LESLIE THOMPKINS:

Forget it Selina, it's Gotham. But like I always told my husband, if this doesn't work out we always have New York.

Leslie chuckles and shakes her head.

LESLIE THOMPKINS:

You should get going. I've got an appointment.

Catwoman sits up and rubs her head.

CATWOMAN:

Thanks Leslie.

LESLIE THOMPKINS:

It's not like I have a choice either. Oh, and send your regards to Holly for me.

Catwoman pulls on her mask, somersaulting out of the clinic. Leslie shakes her head again.

EXT. CRIME ALLEY

Leslie steps out of the clinic. A figure in a coat walks towards her. He carries two rose stalks. It is Bruce Wayne. Bruce walks towards Leslie and they embrace. Bruce takes the two stalks and places them on the pavement. Leslie puts her hand comfortingly on Bruce's back.

Catwoman is on a rooftop ledge, watching. Her expression softens a little, but she cocks her head to the side and leaps up. She turns, leaping across the rooftops once more. As she progresses, she stops, glancing across at an old, derelict building. The stone plaque in front of it is partially covered in moss and says "Sprang Juvenile Detention Hall".

CATWOMAN:

Ah, happy days.

13 YEARS EARLIER

A young Selina sneaks into a convenience store. She is shabbily dressed and looks unkempt. She takes a loaf of bread, trying to sneak out of the store.

CASHIER:

Hey, you!

Selina glances back quickly, and then runs out of the store and onto the streets. She shoves passers-by aside.

PASSER-BY:

Watch it!

The cashier gives chase. Selina trips and falls. The cashier catches up to her. Selina spins round, kicking the cashier in the face. A policeman on patrol sees the scene unfolding and runs ahead to restrain Selina.

POLICEMAN:

What do you think you're doing, huh?

SELINA KYLE:

I…I was just hungry.

POLICEMAN:

That's no excuse to go around stealing like that. You're going straight to juvie hall.

He slaps a pair of handcuffs onto Selina's wrists. She drops the loaf of bread onto the hard pavement.

EXT. SPRANG JUVENILE DETENTION HALL

The building in its glory is all cold, grey stone and neo-gothic spires. A yellow school bus pulls up to the building. The yellow has mostly faded and a decal printed "Sprang Juvenile Detention Hall" has partially flaked off. The door slides open, squeaking as it does so. Young girls in plain, starched white uniforms step uneasily out of the bus. One of them is Selina, cleaned and simply groomed, but appearing no less uncomfortable.

WARDEN:

Come on girls, you're not going to a tea party.

Ushered by the warden, Selina and the other girls proceed up to the concrete stairs leading into the detention hall. Greeting them is the Director, a stern, stout, stony-faced, grey-haired and bespectacled woman.

DIRECTOR:

First and foremost, let me make it clear that I am not the director of a cheery summer camp for poor little orphan girls. This is an institution for runaways and other underage offenders who would be considered felons if not for a minor technicality of the law. In my eyes, however, your age is not an excuse, not for anything. Here at Sprang Juvenile Detention Hall, I am the law…

The Director motions for two wardens to open the giant wooden door behind her as she turns and proceeds into the lobby of the detention hall.

DIRECTOR:

And mark my words-any mischief will be dealt with in the most severe, no-nonsense fashion.

INT. SPRANG JUVENILE DETENTION HALL LOBBY

The lobby is about as unwelcoming as the exterior of the detention hall. Faded purple drapes frame old-fashioned French windows and a large carpet with a checkered pattern covers the wood-paneled floor.

DIRECTOR:

You've had your chance at being dear sweet innocent little girls and you've forfeited that very chance and that luxurious privilege, every last one of you. From now on, you will exist here solely under my terms. Welcome to Sprang Juvenile Detention Hall, that will be all.

The Warden turns and walks away as we see Selina's sad and lonely face.

EXT. SPRANG JUVENILE DETENTION HALL EXERCISE YARD

It is the next morning, and the girls are having their morning exercise in the exercise yard. While all the other girls are doing their jumping jacks, Selina is performing a handstand. A warden notices.

WARDEN:

Enough of that, Kyle…feet on the ground!

Selina recovers from the handstand and continues exercising as the other girls are. She frowns and pouts slightly.

INT. SPRANG JUVENILE DETENTION HALL CLASSROOM

Rows of girls sit at desks poring over a book of poetry. A female warden, burly, muscular and obviously uneducated, reads to the girls from the book of poetry. She reads poorly, her pauses glaringly off in parts and struggling to pronounce some of the archaic English.

WARDEN 2:

"Oh Nightingale Thou Surely Art" by William Wordsworth.

O NIGHTINGALE! thou surely art
A creature of a "fiery heart":--
These notes of thine--they pierce and pierce;
Tumultuous harmony and fierce!
Thou sing'st as if the God of wine
Had helped thee to a Valentine;
A song in mockery and despite
Of shades, and dews, and silent night;
And steady bliss, and all the loves
Now sleeping in these peaceful groves.
I heard a Stock-dove sing or say
His homely tale, this very day;
His voice was buried among trees,
Yet to be come at by the breeze:
He did not cease; but cooed--and cooed;
And somewhat pensively he wooed:
He sang of love, with quiet blending,
Slow to begin, and never ending;
Of serious faith, and inward glee;
That was the song--the song for me!

Any questions?

The girls all sit silently at their desks.

SELINA KYLE:

(Mumbling)

I hate birds.

WARDEN 2:

What was that, Kyle?

SELINA KYLE:

Nothing, Ma'am.

WARDEN 2:

Okay, on to the next one. "The Tyger" by William Blake.

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

She pronounces "symmetry" as "cemetery" Meanwhile, Selina daydreams. The camera zooms in on a print of Blake's painting in the poetry book as it dissolves into Blake's painted world, a stylized version of Selina's imagination as the Warden drones on. Selina frolics in a lush tropical jungle with beautiful, magnificent Bengal Tigers. They leap through shrubbery, drink from streams and curl up sleeping on the jungle floor.

WARDEN 2 (Voiceover):

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? and what dread feet?

Selina's daydream begins to take on a starkly darker tone, as ambiguous imagery of her mother's suicide, her father's abuse, her arrest on the streets and her sister Maggie fill the imaginary world. The tigers react with sadness and anger, clawing at mirages above.

WARDEN 2:

(Voiceover cont.)

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

We dissolve back to the detention hall classroom, where Selina sits daydreaming at her desk, her expression a mix of confusion and awe. The Warden stomps over to her and slams her fist on the desk. Selina is startled.

WARDEN 2:

Eyes on the book, Kyle!

SELINA KYLE:

Yes, ma'am.

INT. SPRANG JUVENILE DETENTION HALL LOBBY

It is late at night and moonlight flows through the French windows and into the lobby. Selina wanders aimlessly around the large space. All of a sudden, the Director appears on the balcony, looking down at Selina with hawkish eyes.

DIRECTOR:

The wardens tell me you're a potential troublemaker, Kyle. Consider yourself on notice-and you'd better adjust your attitude immediately!

The Director turns and disappears into the shadows.

DIRECTOR:

That will be all.

Selina frowns and proceeds back to her room. On the way however, she stops by a hallway framed by fading velvet drapes. The pattern of the window pane is cast in shadow onto the wall. One of the wardens is impatiently speaking with a technician, dressed in a drab green uniform, baseball cap and with a tool belt around his waist. The technician has just installed a small electronic box into the wall.

TECHNICIAN:

There, all done. Anyone who crosses the boundaries of every door and every window large enough will trigger this baby. You deactivate the alarm by punching in whatever code you want me to program…

WARDEN:

Anything, it doesn't matter.

TECHNICIAN

All right, how about 3-1-2-0?

WARDEN:

3-1-2-0…okay, I'll remember it.

The warden fishes out a crumpled note from her seat pocket and thrusts it into the hand of the technician.

TECHNICIAN:

Thank you ma'am.

WARDEN:

Good, now get lost.

Both disappear their separate ways into the shadows. Selina waits till the coast is clear. She then sneaks towards the control panel, still left open. She gingerly keys in the numbers: close-up on Selina's fingers as they press the buttons in sequence-3-1-2-0. A very slight buzz is audible. Selina races up the imposing wooden steps to the nearest French window. She lifts the window up. The draft from outside blows the faded purple drapes dramatically.

SELINA KYLE:

(Whispering)

No alarm…

Selina vaults through and out of the window.

EXT. SPRANG JUVENILE DETENTION HALL ROOFTOPS

Selina is now mostly outside the building, with just her fingers clinging to the window sill inside.

SELINA KYLE:

YESSS!

The wind blows Selina's ponytail, as she stands atop the roof. The night sky is full of stars and thin wispy clouds sail past. After pausing for a second to relish her freedom, Selina vaults across the roof, leaping from one to another with almost as much grace as she will when she becomes Catwoman. She leaps past gothic stained glass windows and brick-built chimneys. She perches herself atop a spire as she smiles, taking in the brilliant night sky. She reaches up, literally towards the star-studded sky. She then leaps off the spire, spread-eagled and tumbling through the air.