It's new moon today* and I was suddenly reminded of a story that I started writing, over a decade ago...
I believe it was meant to be a script / screenplay and it was titled High Moon/ Full Noon.
The title itself was a wordplay on the classic 1950s film High Noon and I imagined it to be a Werewolf Western, which - back then - felt like a highly original (mix of) genre(s).
In fact, this might still be the case. Can you name any werewolf western? I studied film and watched many horror movies but I can't come up with a single title that seems to mix these genres.
It would have been fun if I still had this start of a screenplay somewhere but I think I lost it when my harddisk crashed half a year ago...
I realized I stored it on an external harddisk and it's still there.
Found it!
Just discovered that I wrote this in Dutch and - one way or another - I only have a fragment of the story saved.
I remember I wrote this on an old fashioned typewriter and - you know what - I might have it on old fashioned paper, somewhere in a box of ( movie ) ideas/ stories/ screenplays.
Without further ado, I hereby present that digital fragment of my writing, digitalized back in July 2010, first in Dutch and then translated to English:
HIGH MOON (EEN WEERWOLFWESTERN)
PLOT: Een dorpje in het Wilde Westen wordt eens in de zoveel tijd – bij
volle maan –geteisterd door een weerwolf. De plaatselijke sheriff die het al moeilijk genoeg heeft met de vele revolverhelden – is ten einde raad.
Wanneer een onbekende cowboy zijn intrede doet in de gemeenschap wordt deze algauw op de zaak gezet. Maar is dit wel zo’n goed plan?
FADE IN
EXT. NACHT – ERGENS IN HET WILDE WESTEN
Het is een uitzonderlijk frisse nacht. Aan de wolkenloze hemel staat een perfect ronde maan. Een maan die – ondanks al zijn schoonheid – niet kan verhullen dat er deze nacht verschrikkelijke dingen te gebeuren staan. Dit wordt geïllustreerd door de opmerkelijke stilte die als een onzichtbaar deken over de stad heen lijkt te liggen. Een deken dat geen enkel geluid doorlaat en niet voor warmte zorgt. Een deken des doods.
Is er een reden voor deze beklemmende stilte? Is het stadje wellicht onbewoond? En zo ja, welke vreselijke gebeurtenissen hebben hier voor gezorgd?
Het zwakke schijnsel van een kaars wordt zichtbaar achter een ruit van een van de woningen. En - als hij beter om zich heen kijkt - achter de ruiten van een tiental gebouwen. Vrij uitzonderlijk op dit tijdstip. De zon is immers al vele uren onder.
Ook in de saloon brandt nog licht – wat hem doet besluiten om hier naartoe te gaan.
Zodra hij door de swinging doors naar binnenloopt, merkt hij hoe alle aanwezigen – de barman incluis – zijn kant opdraaien. Hij is zich onmiddellijk bewust van zijn ruige uiterlijk. Zijn lange, donkere, ongewassen bos haar en zijn wilde baard, gecombineerd met zijn donkere laarzen, pak, jas en hoed, maken hem haast tot een schaduw.
Hij neemt plaats aan de bar, zet zijn hoed af en bestelt een whisky.
DE BARMAN – een schichtige man van een jaar of zestig, pakt zonder iets te zeggen een leeg glas, schenkt de whisky in en zet het voor de vreemdeling neer.
Deze slaat de inhoud in een teug achterover en wijst naar de fles.
De barman vult het glas bij
ENGLISH VERSION:
HIGH MOON (A WEREWOLF WESTERN)
PLOT: A village in the Wild West is once in a while - during full moon - plagued by a werewolf. The local sheriff - who already has it hard enough with the many gunslingers - is at his wits' end.
When an unknown cowboy enters the community, he is soon put on the case.
But is this actually a good plan?
FADE IN
EXT. NIGHT - SOMEWHERE IN THE WILD WEST
It is an exceptionally cool night. In the cloudless sky, stands a perfectly round moon. A moon that - despite all its beauty - can't seem to hide the fact that terrible things are about to happen this night. This is illustrated by the remarkable silence that seems to lie like an invisible blanket over the city. A blanket that does not let any sound through and does not provide any warmth. A blanket of death.
Is there a reason for this oppressive silence? Is the town perhaps uninhabited? And if so, what terrible events have caused this?
The faint glow of a candle becomes visible behind a window of one of the houses. And - if he looks around more closely - behind the windows of a dozen buildings. Quite unusual at this time of day. After all, the sun has been down for many hours.
The light in the saloon is still on - which makes him decide to go there.
As soon as he walks in through the swinging doors, he notices how everyone present - the barman included - turns towards him.
He is immediately aware of his rugged appearance. His long, dark, unwashed hair and his wild beard, combined with his dark boots, suit, coat and hat, make him almost a shadow.
He takes a seat at the bar, takes off his hat and orders a whisky.
THE BARMAN - a timid man of about sixty years - without saying a word, takes an empty glass, pours the whisky and sets it down in front of the stranger.
The stranger downs the contents in one gulp and points to the bottle.
The barman refills the glass
This is where the text document that I found ended. I am pretty sure that I wrote a bunch more. Perhaps I was distracted, when I decided to transfer this from typewriter to word file. Who knows?
As mentioned earlier on, I might still have the typewriter pages in a box somewhere. Possibly in my old house, that I recently sold. I still have to pick up a couple of boxes.
If I do indeed find these pages ( I don't think it's much more than a page and a half but that's still a lot more than this little fragment, I will probably share it in a follow up post.
Remains to be said that I sometimes enjoy rediscovering my old stories. It teaches me about the past me and how I have grown ( or not haha ).
I can't help but feel that this story is somewhere inbetween a novel and a screenplay as much of it can't be filmed as it's almost poetic, unless it would be added in a(n old-fashioned) voice over.
I kind of like it though, as I can clearly picture it all. Possibly because I am biased, as I wrote it myself, haha!
TO BE CONVINUED (?)...
*To be more precise: It's new moon in Scorpio, opposing Uranus ( I guess it's 'mooning' right back at you ).
And - as the Dr. / scientist in Futurama would say, while looking at Uranus ( pronounce as 'your anus' ):
"I am glad this isn't a smelloscope."
( or something along those lines ).
I am getting more interested in astrology these days but - although I have a serious side - I am and will always be a joker too ;<)