Anno Dracula

Nicholls. The description is of JACK.

EXT. CHICKSAND STREET, WHITECHAPEL. NIGHT.

JACK steps into the alley. A shaft of moonlight spotlights LULU, a whore with Chinese bangs. She waves her shawl like the fronds of a sea anemone. Smiling with red lips, she continues her siren song. A tight kimono stretches over her boyish body. JACK steps towards her.

JACK clutches his bag.

LULU (slight German accent)

Mister, misssster... Such a handsome gentleman. Come and kiss me, sir. Just a little kiss.

LULU beckons, lacquered nails glittering. JACK touches her face. Even through gloves, her skin is ice. She has delicate pearl-chip fangs, and a red cast to her eyes.

JACK

What brought you to this... condition?

LULU

Good fortune and kind gentlemen.

JACK

Kind?

LULU produces a sprig of mistletoe and holds it up.

LULU

A kiss, kind sir. It’s just a penny for a kiss.

JACK

It’s early for Christmas. September.

LULU

Always time for a kiss.

LULU shakes her sprig and kisses JACK on the lips. His bag is open. He puts a silvered scalpel into her ribs, pressing lightly. LULU changes, face distorting catlike as she hisses venom in JACK’s face. Her fangs extend; she is ready to rip out his throat. The scalpel slides into her chest and blood gushes.

We pull back, as JACK incises deeper. LULU’s animal howls disturb the fog. Then, stillness and quiet. We focus on the poster.

JACK staggers past, leaving a bloody handprint on the poster. In the distance, a police whistle shrills.

DRAWING ROOM, CHELSEA. INT. NIGHT.

The whistle fades into a piano, played not quite expertly. In the home of FLORENCE STOKER, about fifteen well-dressed men and women gather for a soiree. At the piano is PENELOPE CHURCHWARD, 19, a pretty, calculating girl. Beside her, turning the pages, is ARTHUR HOLMWOOD, Lord Godalming, an elegant new-born vampire.

PENELOPE (sings)

She was only a bird in a gilded cage,

A beautiful sight to see,

You thought she was happy and free from

care,

But she’s not what she seems to be...(etc)

Watching is CHARLES BEAUREGARD, a handsome man in his 30s, less flashy but more stalwart than ARTHUR. By him is KATE REED, 25; a bespectacled new woman (a journalist) rather than an ornament (like PENELOPE). FLORENCE, older than PENELOPE but of the same type, presides. A black-bordered picture of BRAM STOKER, her husband, stands on the mantel. To CHARLES’s well-concealed dislike, ARTHUR tries to exert his power of fascination over PENELOPE. KATE has a crush on CHARLES but realises she has no chance. Discreet servants attend.

PENELOPE (sings)

... for youth should not mate with age.

Her beauty was sold for an old man’s

gold.

She’s a bird in a gilded cage.

ARTHUR, leading the clapping, nuzzles nearer PENELOPE’s exposed neck, tiny fangs poking through his subtle leer. CHARLES steps in, to KATE’s disappointment, and steers PENELOPE out of social danger. PENELOPE accepts all attentions as her due.

FLORENCE (fussing)

Dear friends, dear friends, an announcement is imminent. Charles, Penelope...

CHARLES is reluctant, PENELOPE eager. They are the centre of attention, which he dislikes and she adores.

CHARLES

Very well, Florence. Since Arthur’s ennoblement as Lord Godalming, I am forced to preface my announcement with the traditional address, my lords, ladies and gentlemen...

ARTHUR

Come on, Beauregard. Out with it.

CHARLES

Penelope, ah, Miss Churchward... has done me the honour...

Everybody knows what he means, but he can’t quite say it.

PENELOPE (impatient)

We’re to be married. In the Spring. Next year.

PENELOPE holds CHARLES’s hand, proprietorially. Everyone gathers and makes a fuss.

ARTHUR (shaking CHARLES’s hand crushingly)

Congratulations, old man.

KATE, in tears, hugs PENELOPE.

PENELOPE

Oh Kate, don’t be such a drip.

KATE shakes CHARLES’s hand, unable to speak, then hugs him too.

FLORENCE

There must be a toast.

BESSIE, a maid, brings out a bottle of champagne. FLORENCE holds it up, and ARTHUR takes it.

ARTHUR

Allow me.

FLORENCE

Thank you, Art. I’m so feeble.

ARTHUR’s thumbnail extends like a tiny horn. He hooks it into the cork and flips it out of the bottle. He pours for everyone, but holds up an empty glass himself.

ARTHUR

For me, this is a sad moment. I’ve lost again to my good friend Charles Beauregard. I shall never recover, but I acknowledge Charles as the better man. I trust he will serve my dearest Penny as a husband should. If he fails in his duty, I shall myself, being un-dead, take seriously my obligation to haunt him to the grave. To the beautiful Penelope, and the admirable Charles...

Everyone except ARTHUR drinks the toast. PENELOPE relishes it, CHARLES puts up with it. FLORENCE notices ARTHUR’s empty glass.

FLORENCE

I am so sorry, Art. I was forgetting.

ARTHUR

There’s no need.

FLORENCE

But I insist. Bessie, Lord Godalming doesn’t drink champagne. Would you...

BESSIE, a little frightened, has been through this before. She unbuttons her cuffs. ARTHUR takes her wrist,