Apocalypse Now
Screenplay by Francis Ford Coppola
Produced by Francis Ford Coppola
Directed by Francis Ford Coppola
Michael Herr
John
Milius
Cast List:
Marlon Brando Colonel
Kurtz
Robert Duvall Lieutenant
Colonel Kilgore
Martin Sheen Captain
Willard
Frederic Forrest Chef
Albert Hall Chief
Sam Bottoms Lance
Laurence
Fishburne Clean
PRIMEVAL SWAMP – EARLY DAWN
It is very early in the dawn – blue light filters through the jungle
and across a foul swamp. A mist clings to the trees. This could be the jungle
of a million years ago.
Our VIEW MOVES CLOSER, through the mist, TILTING DOWN to the tepid water. A small bubble rises to
the surface; then another. Suddenly, but quietly, a form begins to emerge; a
helmet. Water and mud pour off revealing a set of beady eyes just above the
mud. Printed on a helmet, in a psychedelic hand, are the words: "Gook Killer." The head
emerges revealing that the tough-looking soldier beneath has exceptionally long hair and beard; he
has no shirt on, only bandoliers of ammunition – his body is painted in an odd
camouflage pattern. He looks to the right; he looks to the left; he looks INTO
CAMERA, and slowly sinks back into the swamp,
disappearing completely.
Our VIEW HOLDS, We begin to HEAR natural,
though unrecognizable JUNGLE SOUNDS,
far off in the distance. We PAN TO REVEAL a clump of logs half submerged in the swamp; and part of what seems to
be a Falstaff beer can in the mud. A hand reaches out, and the beer can
disappears. As we TILT UP, we NOTICE that the log is hollow and houses the rear of a M-60 machine
gun, hand painted in a paisley design.
Now the VIEW MOVES AWAY, ACROSS the ancient growth, PAST the glimmer of what seems to be another
soldier hiding in ambush, wearing an exotic hat made from birds and bushes. ACROSS to a dark trail where the legs of those in
black pajamas move silently across our ever TIGHTENING VIEW. Their feet, boots and sandals leave no
impression; make no sound. A slight flicker of light reveals a pair of eyes in
the foliage across the path, waiting and watching.
The VIEW PUSHES ALONG WITH the Vietnamese, MOVING FASTER AND
FASTER WITH them, until suddenly,
directly in front about ten feet away, an enormous AMERICAN clad in rags and bushes and holding a 12
gauge automatic shotgun casually at his side, steps in front of them. He smiles
laconically, and BLASTS OUT FIVE SHOTS
that rip THROUGH US. By the second
shot, the whole jungle blazes out
with AUTOMATIC FIRE.
Out VIEW TURNS as the men around us are thrown and torn, screaming and scattering
into the jungle. More AMERICANS
appear; unexplainably, out of the growth. It is now that we fully SEE the bizarre manner in which they are
dressed. Some wear helmets, others wear strange hats made from feathers and
parts of animals. Some of them have long savage-looking hair; other crew-cut or
completely shaved; they wear bandoliers, flak jackets, shorts and little else.
They wear Montagnard sandals or no shoes at all, and their bodies and faces are
painted in bizarre camouflage patterns. They appear one with the jungle and
mist, FIRING INTO US as they move.
The soldier we saw earlier emerges from the swamp, dripping mud, his
MACHINE GUN BLASTING FIRE.
We begin to move quickly with one Vietnamese, breathlessly running
for his life; we MOVE INTO the jungle with him, only to be impaled on a large spear of a smiling AMERICAN painted and wearing feathers like an
Indian. OUR VIEW FALLS WITH him to
the ground, STARING UPWARDS, as FLAME and EXPLODING MUD scatter above us. Men
scream and die around us. The screams amid the GUNFIRE and EXPLOSIONS are piercing
and terrible, as though the jungle itself is frightened.
An AMERICAN wearing a jungle hat with a large Peace Sign on it, wearing war paint,
bends TOWARD US, reaching down TOWARD US
with a large knife, preparing to scalp the dead.
OUR VIEW MOVES AWAY, along with the running sandals of a
Vietnamese soldier, MOVING FASTER AND
FASTER, only to be stopped by still
another of the savage-looking AMERICANS
with primitive ornamentation, wearing only a loin-cloth and green beret. He
opens his flame-thrower directly ON US
and the NVA soldier and we are incinerated in flame, bright psychedelic
orange-red flame. Outrageous, loud, electric ROCK MUSIC OVERWHELMS the SOUNDTRACK :
MAIN TITLE:
"APOCALYPSE NOW"
TITLE SEQUENCE
The CREDIT TITLES proceed as the FLANE CONSUME US,
growing more intense, brighter, more vivid, purifying; transforming into an
intense white heat that we can barely look at, like the sun itself.
Then it EXPLODES, breaking apart, and shattering once again. It begins to cool, as the TITLES
CONTINUE. It is as though WE ARE
MOVING through the white center of
cooling flame, forming a spinning web, and becoming more distant. The TITLES
CONTINUE.
We are MOVING TOWARD planetary nebulae; MOVING
through the stars; MOVING closer to
the Earth. We can BARELY HEAR the MUSIC
now.
We MOVE CLOSER to the earth; beautiful, covered in clouds, as though SEEN from a satellite. The TITLES CONTINUE.
We are MOVING CLOSER to the earth; through the soft clouds, close enough that we can MAKE
OUT the Western Hemisphere; CLOSER to North America; CLOSER, to America, then California; Los Angeles, STILL CLOSER to the odd, finger-like shapes of :
EXT. MARINA DEL REY
The VIEW finally SETTLES ON a
partically luxury cabin cruiser harbored at a particular dock late in the day.
It is large, pleasure boat: The people are relaxing in bathing suits
and towels and robes. They are drinking cocktails, and snapping pictures. The
boat belongs to the head of a large American Corporation, and this is his
party. This man, CHARLIE, is sitting, his shirt off to catch some of the late sun. Others have
their faces smeared with white suntan oil that reminds us of war paint. Charlie
is going on and on :
CHARLIE
... It's crazy – sugar is up to 200 dollars a ton –
sugar!
LAWYER
What about oil?
CHARLIE
Food, oil – look, let me show you something. This is
the economy of the United States in two years –
He takes a newspaper, draws a circle.
CHARLIE
(continuing)
This is West Germany.
(he draws another, bigger circle)
This is Japan.
(another , bigger)
This is Italy.
(a dot)
This is Iran.
(a very big circle)
And this is Saudi Arabia... In two years?
(a gigantic circle)
Do you understand?
ACCOUNTANT
What's to prevent it?
CHARLIE
Maybe nothing. But I'll tell you, I didn't build a
two-billion-dollar company in the last twenty years by doing nothing. We can
protect our interests.
(pause, for a drink)
We are still the most powerful nation in the world.
Militarily.
He leans to his associates, in a half-whisper.
CHARLIE
(continuing)
You know bodyguard; he was a captain in Viet Nam. You
talk to him, except he won't talk. This kind of man can kill you with his
pinky. A nice quiet fella, though.
The VIEW BEGINS TO PULL AWAY from this group.
CHARLIE
(continuing)
Carries a attaché case at all times. You know what's
in it?
(another sip)
An Ingram Machine pistol.
Gradually, Charlie's voice softens as we MOVE AWAY, and a NEW VOICE, the voice of someone thinking, COMES
IN OVER it :
CHARLIE WILLARD (V.O.)
I don't take chances, and Bullshit. You can kill
neither should this country. With the ridge of your if we're strong, we should
hand to the throat; you protect our interests, and can crush a skull with we
should have the respect your knee... but you of the world, even if it can't
kill anybody with takes another war, your pinky.
The VIEW MOVE ALONG the guests of this small party: Pictures being taken, some people are
swimming. It is the good life. Now WILLARD'S VOICE TRACK DOMINATES.
WILLARD (V.O.)
The attaché case has been empty for three years, but
it makes him safe to think there's a machine pistol in it. I don't like
automatic weapons. They jam. I saw a friend of mine get ripped open because he
flicked his M-16 to automatic, and it jammed. How much money did the
contractors make on the M-16?
Our VIEW IS MOVING through the people on the boat; some reading, flirting, drinking.
WILLARD (V.O.)
(continuing)
He likes to hear stories about Nam. I tell him I
can't; they're not cleared. The truth is he wouldn't understand.
We can now SEE a MAN with his BACK TO
US, looking the opposite way. An attaché
case resting near to him. We MOVE CLOSER.
WILLARD (V.O.)
(continuing)
There's no way I can tell them... what really happened
over there. I wouldn't've believed it if someone'd told me.
We are now RESTING on his back. Occasionally, he sips from a beer, but we cannot see his
face.
WILLARD (V.O.)
(continuing)
There was only one part that mattered – for me,
anyway. I don't even know if I remember all of it. I can't remember how it
ended, exactly – because when it ended I was insane.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. A STREET IN SAIGON – DAY
A Saigon boom street in late 1968. There are bars and shops for
servicemen; the rickshaws, the motorbikes. Our VIEW
MOVES TOWARD one particular officer; B.L.
WILLARD, in uniform, a Captain of the
Airborne, followed by four or five Vietnamese kids trying to shine his shoes
and sell him things.
WILLARD (V.O.)
But I know how it started for me – I was on R. and R.
in Saigon; my first time south of the DMZ in three months. I wasn't sure, but I
thought this guy was following me.
Willard looks back.
HIS VIEW
An American CIVILIAN.
MEDIUM VIEW
Willard ducks into a bar.
INT. THE SAIGON BAR – DAY
Not much in this place – a bar, linoleum flooring, a few tables and chairs, and a juke box. The lounge is fairly crowded. Willard takes off his cap and walks quietly past the soldiers at the bar. Some of them, catching sight of his ribbons, stop talking as he moves by.
An INFANTRY CAPTAIN enters the bar, buys a couple of drinks and approaches Willard's
table.
CAPTAIN
How about a drink?
WILLARD
Sure, thanks.
He sits down at the table with the drinks.
CAPTAIN
Winning the war by yourself.
WILLARD
(he calls for the waiter)
Part.
CAPTAIN
Which part is that?
WILLARD
My part.
(to the waiter)
Beer, with ice and water.
CAPTAIN
That's good gin.
WILLARD
I'm sure it is, but I had hepatitis.
CAPTAIN
Delta?
WILLARD
No.
CAPTAIN
North?
WILLARD
Yeah. Way north.
CAPTAIN
What unit were you with?
WILLARD
None.
CAPTAIN
Rangers, eh?
WILLARD
Sort of.
The JUKE BOX starts BLARING. Annoyed ,
Willard looks over his shoulder.
CAPTAIN
Were you Longe Range Recon –
WILLARD
No – I worked too far north for LRRP.
He reaches into his shirt pocket for a cigarette, and the Captain
leans over the table to light it for him. Willard notices the CIVILIAN on the street has
glanced in the bar, then enters and sits down at a table by the doorway.
CAPTAIN
That's quite an array of ribbons...
WILLARD
Let's talk about you.
CAPTAIN
I was an FO for the 25th.
WILLARD
Tracks?
CAPTAIN
Yeah.
WILLARD
Fat. That's real fat.
CAPTAIN
Sometimes.
WILLARD
At least you always have enough water. How many gallons
does each one of those damn things carry?
CAPTAIN
Thirty – sometimes fifty.
WILLARD
You know, I can remember once, getting back below the
DMZ – and the first Americans we ran into were a track squadron. I just
couldn't believe how much water they had. We'd been chewing bamboo shoots for
almost a week, and before that, for two weeks, we'd been drinking anything –
rain water, river shit, stuff right out of the paddies. And there were these
guys standing by their trucks spilling water all over. I could've killed them.
(solemnly)
I swear to God I would have, too, if...
CAPTAIN
I didn't know we had units up there in North Vietnam.
WILLARD
We do.
CAPTAIN
How long were you up there?
WILLARD
A long time.
CAPTAIN
A year? Waiter another beer.
WILLARD
I go up on missions. Listen Captain, buy me all the
beer you want, but you better tell that asshole over there you're not going to
find out anymore about me.
Willard glances over his shoulder and indicates the Civilian. The Civilian is given a sign by the Captain. He rises and comes over to the bar.
WILLARD
(continuing)
What do you want?
CIVILIAN
(indicating the Army jeep)
If you're B.L. Willard, 4th Recon Group, we'd like you
to come with us.
WILLARD
Whose orders?
CAPTAIN
Headquarters 11 Corps – 405th A.S.A Battalion – S-2 –
Com-Sec – Intelligence – Nha Trang.
WILLARD
Who are you?
CIVILIAN
The agency.
Willard looks at the Civilian a moment, and then walks right out toward the jeep without saying another word. The Civilian follows.
EXT. HELICOPTER – DUSK
A darkly painted "HUEY" ROARS over low paddies and jungle before emerging onto an open plain. It
crosses a barbed wire and sand-bagged perimeter and lands in a heavily
fortified, concealed compound.
WILLARD (V.O.)
They took me to some place outside Nha Trang...
Intelligence Headquarters for all operations in South East Asia. I'd worked for
Intelligence before –
Armed men jump from the Huey – among them Willard. A large camouflaged cover is moved, revealing an underground corridor – they enter.
FULL SHOT – UNDERGROUND PLOTTING ROOM
A door swings wide – Willard steps through and comes to attention,
blocking the view of the room. A strange reddish light pervades. The room is
covered with plastic maps and filled with smoke.
The whole place has been hewn out of the ground itself and there is
a sense of the cut-back jungle growth slowly reclaiming it.
Captain B.L. Willard, G-4 Headquarters, reporting as
ordered, sir.
COLONEL (O.S.)
Okay, Willard, sit down.
Willard sits in a chair that is set in a center of a bare concrete
floor. Across from him, around steel desks and tables sit several men. The
nearest one, a COLONEL puts his cigar out on the bottom of his shoe – behind him sits a MAJOR and a seedy-looking CIVILIAN.
COLONEL
Have you ever seen this officer before, Captain
Willard?
He points to the Major.
WILLARD
No, sir.
COLONEL
This gentleman or myself?
WILLARD
No, sir.
COLONEL
I believe on your last job you executed a tax
collector in Kontum, is that right?
WILLARD
I am not presently disposed to discuss that, sir.
MAJOR
Very good.
He turns to the Colonel and nods his approval. The Colonel gets up and goes to a large plastic map.
COLONEL
You know much about Special Forces; Green Berets,
Captain?
WILLARD
I've worked with them on occasions and I saw the movie
, sir.
The officer smiles at this.
COLONEL
Then you can appreciate Command's concern over their –
shall we say 'erratic' methods of operation.
(pause)
I have never favored elite units, Captain, including
your paratroopers or whatever. Just because a man jumps out of an airplane or
wears a silly hat doesn't give him any privileges in my book – not in this
man's army.
MAJOR
We didn't need 'em in Korea – no sir, give me an Ohio
farm boy and an M-1 Garand, none of this fancy crap – no sir.
CIVILIAN
(stopping him)
Major.
COLONEL
We have Special Forces A detachments all along the
Cambodian border. Two here and another one here – twelve or fourteen Americans
– pretty much on their own; they train and motivate Montagnard natives; pick their
own operations. If they need something, they call for it, and get it within reason. What we're concerned with
is here.
CLOSE VIEW – ON THE MAP
COLONEL
The A detachment at Nu Mung Ba. It was originally a larger base, built up along the river in an old Cambodian fortress. The area has been relatively quiet for the past two years – but –
MEDIUM VIEW
COLONEL
... Captain, we know something's going on up there –
Major –
The Major looks at some papers in front of him.
MAJOR
Communications naturally dwindled with the lack of
V.C. activity, this is routine, expected... but six months ago communication
virtually stopped.
COLONEL
About the same time – large numbers of Montagnards of
the M'Nong descent began leaving the area – this in itself is not unusual since
these people have fought with the Rhade Tribe that lived in the area for
centuries. But what is unusual is that we began to find Rhade refugees too – in
the same sampans as the M'Nongs. These people aren't afraid of V.C. They've put
up with war for twenty years – but something is driving them out.
MAJOR