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The Sandman Presents: Marquee Moon by Peter Hogan Second Draft (1997), Pages 25-32
PAGE TWENTY FIVE Panel 1. Medium: a close-up of Tamara holding up her gift by its ears, regarding it with a romantic sigh (this girl is easily pleased). CAPTION: WELL, IT WASN'T FLOWERS OR CANDY... CAPTION: BUT IT WAS A START. Panel 2. A medium/large panel. We're back in the squat, in the rehearsal area. All just standing or sitting about, though Weasel and Vic have guitars strapped on. Minor changes of clothing for the band (different shirts or T-shirts—maybe Weasel's wearing the same one). But Tamara's made an effort—wearing a chunky long white pullover, black mini-skirt, boots that stop just below the knee. Tied her hair up in ponytail, definitely wearing makeup. Nose still a bit red at the tip (from cold and speed). She's sitting/perching on the arm of a chair, or leaning against a speaker, arms folded, a bit bored. Weasel and Vic are in one mini-conversation, while Ray is standing talking to a new character: Nigel. He's aged a bit older than the band (mid to late twenties), and is a nice guy but a bit dorkish (longer hair, a bit overweight). Wears a battered old leather coat (not jacket). CAPTION: I KNEW I'D FEEL SHITTY THE NEXT MORNING, AND I WAS RIGHT...BUT JUST LIKE BEFORE, AFTER ANOTHER LINE OF SPEED I WAS FINE AGAIN—JUST IN TIME FOR OUR FIRST SERIOUS REHEARSAL... CAPTION: WHICH IS WHERE I MET NIGEL... NIGEL: SO LET ME SEE IF I'VE GOT THIS STRAIGHT... Panel 3. Medium/large close-up of Nigel, annoyed and exasperated (but trying to keep it under control). In the background Vic is tuning his guitar, a lit cigarette dangling from his lip. NIGEL: I LEAVE YOU ALONE FOR A DAY AND YOU FIRE THE SINGER, HIRE A NEW ONE, CHANGE THE GROUP'S NAME AND DECIDE YOU'RE GOING TO WRITE A WHOLE NEW SET BY FRIDAY... VIC: PIECE O'PISS. NIGEL: IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE I SHOULD KNOW? Panel 4. Smallish two-shot: Ray, sincere and earnest; Weasel sneering (arms folded, resting on the top of his guitar). RAY: WE GOTTA DO ALL THIS, NIGE—THE NAME AND THE SONGS WAS ALL BRIAN'S, AND... THE WEASEL: THE WANKER'S WELCOME TO 'EM... RAY: WE GOTTA BE US, Y'KNOW? Panel 5. Largish close-up of Nigel. Annoyed—and visibly/volubly so—but reasonable with it. NIGEL: YEAH, I DO KNOW. I'D JUST LIKE TO BE CONSULTED ABOUT STUFF LIKE THIS, THAT'S ALL. NIGEL: JUST BECAUSE I DO YOUR SOUND, GET YOU GIGS AND DRIVE YOU ABOUT DOESN'T MAKE ME YOUR FUCKING SERVANT, Y'KNOW. NIGEL: I'M A PART OF ALL THIS. PAGE TWENTY SIX Panel 1. Medium: in the foreground, Ray being apologetic to Nigel (still frowning slightly); beyond them, Vic is holding up a phone receiver (and cupping the mouthpiece with one hand). RAY: SORRY, NIGE. BUT YOU WASN'T HERE, SO... RAY: SORRY. VIC: PHONECALL, NIGE... NIGEL: I'LL TAKE IT UPSTAIRS. Panel 2. A medium close-up of Tamara, perkily trying to change the subject/mood. Behind her we see a rear view of Nigel walking out the door. Nigel now offstage until I tell you. TAMARA: SO...WHAT ARE WE CALLED? Panel 3. Small/medium: a triple-shot: Ray grinning, Vic smiling cooly and the Weasel (turning towards the other two but jerking his thumb towards us in a mildly stroppy way). RAY: WELL, WE WAS CALLED THE BONE IDOLS... VIC: AND NOW WE'RE THE UNINVITED. WE DECIDED LAST NIGHT... THE WEASEL: WHAT'S SHE GONNA BE CALLED, ANYWAY? Panel 4. Smallish two-shot: Tamara (still perched where she was) with arms folded, puzzled and a little peeved; Ray in front of her, very amused—he's talking to Weasel, but we don't have to see him here. TAMARA: WHAT'S WRONG WITH TAMARA? RAY: SHE DON'T NEED TO USE A NAME, PILLOCK. SHE AIN'T ON THE DOLE, IS SHE? Panel 5. Smallish: mainly Ray, grinning as he explains about punk names. Vic and Weasel could be visible in the background (tuning up), or else we could have Tamara being bewildered. RAY: SEE, WE ALL USE LIKE, ALIASES, SO'S WE CAN KEEP ON CLAIMIN' DOLE MONEY. RAY: SO I'M RAY GUNN, HE'S VIC VERSA, AND THE WEASEL'S...THE WEASEL. Panel 6. Another triple-shot, as small as you can make it: Ray teasing Weasel, who's ignoring him (his response isn't nasty, merely automatic), and Vic being impatient. Vic standing, resting left foot on a chair (or something else), resting guitar on his left knee, plectrum in his right hand. Hasn't started playing yet, but is about to. RAY: WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME, ANYWAY? WEASEL: FUCK OFF. VIC: COME ON, LET'S GET TO BLOODY WORK. WE'VE STILL GOT A COUPLE OF SONGS THAT AIN'T BRIAN'S. REMEMBER THIS? PAGE TWENTY SEVEN Panel 1. Large close-up of Vic, strumming away and watching what he's doing. Singing quietly and concentrating. If you were a girl, you'd think he was cool and sexy. VIC (with musical notes): I USED TO RUN WITH A PACK, NOW I'M ON MY OWN... VIC (with musical notes): I GOT THE MOON ON MY BACK, AND I'M ALMOST GROWN... Panel 2. Largish close-up of Tamara, stunned but delighted. VIC (with musical notes): I WANT TO HOWL. I'M ON THE PROWL... VIC (off): OR ELSE THERE'S THIS ONE...'COURSE, IT NEEDS SOME WORDS... CAPTION: AND THE MYSTERY WAS SOLVED. HE WAS PRACTICALLY TELLING ME WHO HE WAS, LIKE HE WANTED TO MAKE SURE I KNEW. Panel 3. Another shot of Vic strumming away (he now looks sensitive and poetic). This could be smallish, were it not for the lengthy caption, so...angle it however you want. Some musical notes emanating from the guitar. CAPTION: IF I HAD ANY DOUBTS, THEY VANISHED WITH THE NEXT THING HE PLAYED—THIS ROCK VERSION OF AN OLD FOLK TUNE CALLED 'THE PEOPLE'S LAMENT.' I'D KNOWN IT SINCE I WAS LIKE, IN MY CRADLE... Panel 4. Medium: Vic interrupted by the arrival of Jimmy, in school uniform and carrying battered briefcase, looking chirpy and cheeky. Behind him is a sexy blonde schoolgirl of 15 or 16, also grinning. Vic's stopped playing to look over his shoulder at the new arrivals. Weasel also registering their arrival. CAPTION: BUT BEFORE I COULD SAY, 'I KNOW THIS ONE', WE GOT INTERRUPTED... JIMMY: HIYA... VIC: HOW WAS SCHOOL? JIMMY: CRAP, AS USUAL. Panel 5. Smallish two-shot: Tamara, curious in a gossipy kind of way, whispering to Ray; Ray shrugging. TAMARA: IS THAT JIMMY'S GIRLFRIEND? RAY: DUNNO. PAGE TWENTY EIGHT Panel 1. Large panel: Vic (now standing) has been straddled by the schoolgirl, who has both arms round his neck and both legs round his waist. Vic is holding his guitar off to one side (out of the way of her assault), but is mildly annoyed that she's nearly damaged it. She's attempting to pull him close enough to kiss. We don't have to see them again this page, but if we do then they're snogging (in same/similar pose), or else she's dragging him off somewhere by the hand (or guitar strap). RAY (off): er, APPARENTLY NOT. VIC: MIND THE BLOODY GUITAR, DEBS... DEBBIE: C'MERE. Panel 2. Two-shot: Ray mildly concerned, Tamara has arms folded across her stomach, with head down (trying to conceal that she's upset). If there's room, let's see Vic and Debbie (kissing) as well. We don't have to see Tamara again this scene, but if we do she's still got the blues—not exactly sulking, but close. NEIL: Tamara's line is a joke I couldn't resist. We will be seeing her transform when it's obviously not the full moon, but if you think this is confusing the issue about the people not being 'traditional' werewolves, then we can change her answer to indicate a cold or indigestion (i.e. drugs and rabbits, another well-known group). RAY: YOU ALLRIGHT, LOVE? TAMARA: YEAH...IT'S JUST, YOU KNOW, THAT TIME OF THE MONTH. Panel 3. And cut to the door, where Nigel's re-entering the room, smiling gently but proudly, carrying a piece of paper or notebook. Weasel registering his entrance. THE WEASEL: YOU LOOK 'APPY, NIGE... NIGEL: YEAH, GOOD NEWS. WE'VE GOT A FEW MORE GIGS LINED UP. NIGEL: 'COURSE, THEY'RE NOT GOING TO GET THE GROUP THEY'RE EXPECTING, BUT THAT'S THEIR TOUGH SHIT. ANYWAY... Panel 4. Smallish close-up of Nigel, very pleased with himself. ALISA: We will explain more fully what the Marquee is (for the benefit of our American viewers), but not until we actually get there. NIGEL: YOU'RE GOING TO BE PLAYING THE MARQUEE IN A FEW WEEKS TIME. Panel 5. Group shot: Ray and Weasel are gobsmacked (puzzled, and looking for the catch). In the background, Vic is also deeply interested, and has disentangled himself from Debbie (to her mild annoyance). Nigel in playful mood, enjoying his triumph. ALISA: Weasel's line is here to keep reader Joe Strummer happy. RAY: I THOUGHT THEY'D BANNED PUNK? THE WEASEL: THEY BANNED THE PISTOLS...AND THEY TOLD THE CLASH TO FUCK OFF... NIGEL: WELL, NOW THEY'VE UN-BANNED IT. OBVIOUSLY, THEY SMELL MONEY. Panel 6. Small two-shot: Ray (curious/hopeful) and Nigel (laughing). RAY: SO...ARE WE HEADLINING? NIGEL: 'COURSE NOT—I'M NOT THAT GOOD. YOU'RE SUPPORTING MUCOUS MEMBRANE. PAGE TWENTY NINE Panel 1. Two-shot: Weasel scandalised, Ray pragmatic and thrilled, whapping Weasel in the chest with the back of his hand. In the background, Tamara is possibly looking puzzled as well as grumpy. THE WEASEL: THAT BUNCH OF TOSSERS? RAY: SHUDDUP, WEASE—IT 'S STILL THE MARQUEE. WE'RE DOING IT. RAY: NIGE, I'M BUYING YOU A PINT. CAPTION: I DIDN'T FIND OUT WHY THIS MARQUEE THING WAS SUCH A BIG DEAL TILL LATER, BUT THE GUYS WERE ALL LIKE, ECSTATIC. Panel 2. It's a few days after the last scene, and we're onstage at the band's very first gig, where they're about to start playing. The venue is a pub—and a fairly grotty one at that. It was always the worst pubs that had bands on—Watneys and Ind Coope, usually—because they really needed some added attraction to get people through the door in the first place. It'd be small (not tiny, just not a barn), with tables and chairs towards the rear and standing room up the front. Here we want a medium panel, looking head on at the stage. There's a black backdrop with the name of the pub in red—Newlands Tavern—and the stage is small (small enough so's the band are crowded together a bit) and sunk back into the wall, but jutting out a little into the room. Stacks of amps and speakers at back of stage (very basic, nothing fancy). Two mike stands are set up at front of stage (one for Tamara, one for Vic). Left to right we see Weasel (still tuning up), Tamara and Vic (yelling into the mike, hands already forming a chord on the guitar neck). All of them look a bit nervous—the others are covering it up well, but with Tamara it's a bit more obvious—she's gripping the mike stand for dear life and looks really pale. The band are all wearing slightly cleaner and flashier gear than we've seen them in to date (but not by too much—these aren't special stage outfits, but stuff they'd wear on the street. That said, their idea of street wear is still comparatively outrageous). Vic definitely has leather trousers on, Ray and Weasel in slightly newer/cleaner T-shirts (with slogans). Tamara has hair tied up in bunches (the mad schoolgirl look) and is wearing the Sex dress from earlier—in reality it'd probably be too hot for this kind of outing, so let's have her sweating before this gig's over). CAPTION: SO WE REHEARSED AND REHEARSED, AND THEN SUDDENLY IT WAS FRIDAY AND WE WERE DOING IT... VIC: WE'RE THE UNINVITED, BUT WE'RE HERE ANYWAY... VIC: AHHONETWOFREEFOUR... Panel 3. Large panel: close-in on the group, with Tamara the focus. Still looking a bit nervous, but much better than in the previous panel (we've actually time-jumped by a couple of songs). CAPTION: I WAS NERVOUS AS HELL, AND SPEEDING LIKE CRAZY...BUT IT WAS REALLY EXHILARATING, AND AFTER A COUPLE OF SONGS I STARTED TO UNCLENCH A BIT... CAPTION: WE PLAYED 'ON THE PROWL', 'RUNNING WILD' AND SOME BOWIE AND IGGY COVERS—AND ONE SONG I'D WRITTEN WITH RAY... TAMARA (with musical notes): THEY SAY YOU'RE NOTORIOUS—HONEY, I'M NOT EVEN CURIOUS... Panel 4. Medium/large. Angle this one from the side slightly, so that Tamara's in the front at right of panel, we get a glimpse of Ray in the background at extreme left (both drumsticks raised high and a look of completely manic concentration on his face). Somewhere in the middle is Vic, concentrating intently and seriously on his guitar. We want to convey a bit of ironic contrast between their personal relationship and the lyrics here if we can, so Vic and Tamara should have the lion's share of space. But make sure Weasel's visible in at least one of these panels. TAMARA (with musical notes): THEY SAY YOU LIKE HER MORE THAN ME—YOU MUST BE BLIND AS FAR AS I CAN SEE... PAGE THIRTY Panels 1 & 2. Two medium/large panels (maybe one angled sort of from above and behind, as if you were a backlight, so we can get some focus on the audience). Tamara's a born performer (she's got one hand on the mike—detached from its stand, so it's now a hand mike—and is making some extravagantly sweeping waving or pulling gesture with her other hand, one heel kicking backwards). She's actively singing to the front row. Most of the audience are obviously enjoying the show (grins and approving smiles and glances), and are focussed mostly on her. Very few of these people will be punks—mostly they'll be young guys aged 19-24, and most of them will have long hair (with a few beards in evidence). Dress will be mainly velvet jackets, Levi jackets, those hideous check things that looked like pretend flying jackets, cheesecloth shirts, cowboyish gear...A few of the less socially inept have girlfriends in tow (a mix of schoolgirls and secretaries, all vaguely bored and drinking Campari), wearing chokers and minidresses and knee-high boots with platform heels. How did I forget to mention platforms back when I was talking about fashion? Among the many faces in the audience will be the supporters' club: Jimmy, Judy, Debbie and Nigel (he's right at the back, bent over a small and primitive sound desk but concentrating on the stage. There'll also be a handful of other punks (of both sexes) here, and they'll really stand out from the herd. Judy could be wearing that Chinese dress again, and Debbie's dressed (minidress, black tights) and heavily made-up to appear much older than she really is. Panel 1. TAMARA (with musical notes): JUST GO AWAY BOY, YOU BOTHER ME. Panel 2. TAMARA (with musical notes): 'N' YOU'RE JUST TOO MUCH TRUH-UBBLE... Panel 3. Medium close-up of TAMARA: beads of perspiration and her hair's plastered to her brow. But she's also smiling, and positively glowing. Post-coital, in fact. CAPTION: WE WERE REALLY RAGGED BUT...THEY LIKED US. I MEAN, I COULD FEEL THIS RESPONSE. AUDIENCE (off): MORE. AUDIENCE (off): WOO! AUDIENCE (off): YEAH! CAPTION: IT WAS KIND OF LIKE WHAT I HOPED SEX WOULD BE LIKE... Panel 4. Medium/small panel. Cut to after the gig (so late at night, after the pub's shut), and we're outside on the pavement. At the kerb is parked a battered old blue Bedford transit van, its back doors wide open. It's rusty and dirty, but this thing is big enough to take all their equipment, plus all of them (and friends/partners—two or three of whom will ride shotgun upfront with Nigel). Ray's crouching inside it, stashing some drum or guitar cases; Tamara's approaching it carrying a mike stand; the Weasel's carrying an amp and a guitar case, tottering under the load. Vic's in the foreground, leaning against the pub's outer wall and smooching with Debbie. Tamara's aware of this, and looks uncomfortable (a disapproving sidelong glance). Everybody in this scene (the band, Judy, Jimmy, Debbie and Nigel) will be wearing jackets or overcoats (it is January, after all). Vic's will be a long, fifties-style overcoat, Weasel's wearing a ratty sports jacket, Debbie a short fur coat, Nigel an old suede car coat, Tamara her sleeping-bag overcoat (she'll get rid of it soon, and not a moment before time), Ray in a Levi's jacket with motheaten pullover underneath, Jimmy in something similar, Judy in that fur coat we saw earlier. CAPTION: NOT THAT IT LOOKED LIKE THERE WAS MUCH CHANCE OF ME FINDING OUT... WEASEL: DON'T FUCKIN' 'ELP, VIC. CAPTION: 'CAUSE VIC WAS STILL GLUED TO HIS SCHOOLGIRL. I COULDN'T BELIEVE HE PREFERRED A HUMAN TO ME. PAGE THIRTY ONE Panel 1. Medium/large: the same scene. Ray quite pleased with himself, gently ribbing Weasel (a rear view only—he's loading stuff into the van). Nigel entering at right of panel, exiting pub and strugglng with a smallish speaker cabinet (a monitor speaker, perhaps). In the back of the van will be riding Vic & Debbie, Jimmy and the Weasel...so maybe here Jimmy's already inside, and Vic and Debbie are clambering aboard as well. RAY: WELL I THOUGHT IT WENT OFF ALLRIGHT. WHADDIDYER RECKON, NIGE? NIGEL: NOT BAD... NIGEL: YOU STILL NEED MORE MATERIAL, THOUGH. Panel 2. Small two-shot: Weasel scowling, climbing into the van or already aboard and closing the doors behind him. Rear view of Nigel. NIGEL: WE SET? GOT EVERYTHING? WEASEL: YEAH. LET'S GET OUT OF 'ERE. WEASEL: I FUCKIN' 'ATE SOUTH LONDON. Panel 3. Medium: we're in the back of the van, and it's very cramped and crowded. Nigel is upfront in the driver's seat, but turning round or yelling over his shoulder while looking in mirror. In the back, everyone's wedged in uncomfortably amongst all the gear and general rubbish (beer cans etc). Jimmy almost chirpy, Weasel world-weary, Vic & Debbie are cuddled up cosily, and Vic's yelling out cheerfully. NIGEL: EVERYONE ALL RIGHT BACK THERE? WEASEL: JUST FUCKIN' DRIVE, WILL YER? VIC: HEY, NIGE—RAY 'N' TAMMY COULD WRITE US SOME MORE NEW STUFF... Panel 4. Smallish horizontal: we're looking at the van straight on, and through the windshield we can see those up front (we just need to see them, not much of the van). Left to right: Nigel (driving), Ray (almost invisible, because he's got Judy on his lap), Tamara (mildly peeved at having work dumped on her—especially by Vic) either semi-turning round to reply or looking up into the mirror. It's a tight squeeze in the front as well. TAMARA: WHY US? Panel 5. Smallish two-shot: Vic grinning good-naturedly; Debbie looks sulky and jealous, hanging onto Vic fiercely and possessively. VIC: BECAUSE THEY CLAPPED AFTER YOUR ONE, THAT'S WHY. PAGE THIRTY TWO Panel 1. Scene change, and a medium/large panel (big enough for captions): It's a day or so later, and we're in the kitchen at the squat, which is pretty bare and basic (and pretty grotty—pretty much what you'd expect from a bunch of single guys in their early twenties: more The Young Ones than This Life). Ray and Tamara are sitting round a formica-topped (but peeling) table, which is littered with biscuits, mugs, an ashtray. He's wearing a skimpy pullover with sleeves rolled up, cradling an extremely battered acoustic guitar. She's similarly scruffily dressed and scribbling with a biro on an A4 notepad (lined paper). She's probably left-handed (my apologies if I should have mentioned that eighty pages ago), and pushing her hair back with her other hand (concentrating, and mildly terrified by this ordeal she's accepted). Behind them Judy is making or drinking some tea. There's a poster up on the wall (torn and creased and several months old). It's a very primitive/basic poster advertising a gig by The Damned (their name in big letters) supported by The Bone Idols (their name in smaller letters) at the 100 Club, on October 31st, 1976. CAPTION: SO WE GAVE IT A TRY... RAY: VERSE, CHORUS, VERSE, CHORUS, MIDDLE BIT, CHORUS. GOT IT? TAMARA: er...I THINK SO. CAPTION: THERE WAS A SPARE ROOM IN THE SQUAT, SO I MOVED IN—IT WAS JUST EASIER. I FELT COMPLETELY SAFE WITH THOSE GUYS AND ANYWAY, IT WASN'T LIKE I WAS THE ONLY GIRL—JUDY SPENT MOST OF HER SPARE TIME THERE, AND OF COURSE VIC WAS WITH DEBBIE... Panel 2. Medium panel: Tamara's bedroom. Yes, she's moved into the squat, and her room is extremely bare: just a mattress on the floor, a broken mirror and one sad-looking wooden chair. Her bag is visible somewhere, with clothes spilling out—all other possessions are all over the floor: make-up, hairbrush, box of Tampax, tissues. There's a book near her pillow—a Penguin Classic edition of Ovid's Metamorphoses. She's sitting up in bed wearing a lumpy old cardigan or sweater over a plain long white cotton nightdress, in the act of scribbling away on her notepad but looking up, obviously somewhat startled. Light comes from a candle (bare wire dangling overhead for the light that isn't there) and from a fire that's dying in the grate (a few flames still licking feebly). CAPTION: ALL I HAD WAS LYRICS TO WRITE. CAPTION: BUT THE SECOND NIGHT I WAS THERE, I HEARD SOMEONE OUTSIDE MY DOOR... Panel 3. A medium/small close-up. She's standing in her doorway, sleepily examining another dead rabbit. Puzzled. CAPTION: OF COURSE, THEY'D GONE BY THE TIME I GOT THERE. ALL I FOUND WAS ANOTHER PRESENT. CAPTION: BUT WHY WAS VIC GIVING ME RABBITS WHEN HE HAD DEBBIE ASLEEP IN HIS BED? WAS THIS SOME KIND OF KINKY INVITATION? Panel 4. Similar, but on the smaller side. She's now more puzzled—and somewhat worried/nervous. A second thought has just occurred, and she's drooping somewhat, lowering the rabbit. CAPTION: OR ELSE...MAYBE IT WASN'T A PRESENT. CAPTION: MAYBE IT WAS SOME KIND OF LIKE, WARNING. MAYBE HE WANTED ME TO LEAVE...
Thanks to Peter Hogan for providing the script and artwork, Peter Doherty and Hogan for answering my interview questions, and Adrian Brown at the Voices From Beyond forum for helping make it possible. An excerpt of this script originally appeared on John McMahon's Straight to Hell site. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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