Now this one came as a surprise. I’ve been interested in horror lately, and I’ve been wanting to try a bit of my own— Lacuna is a recent bit of experimentation in the genre. But I’ve been watching some horror films recently to get inspired, and found myself intrigued by 1973’s The Wicker Man, which I’ve never actually seen until now. It’s a bit hokey in its datedness, but overall I enjoyed it and thought it was an effective film. My friend Jonathan asked me recently if I could think of films I think I could have done my own version of, and given how legendarily mocked the 2006 remake is, it struck me that I might have an interesting idea for my own reinterpretation. So here’s an opening scene for that idea.
Day #18 - "Summerisle"
From The Wicker Man
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~
FADE IN:
EXT. SEA OF THE HEBRIDES – DAY
A small silver seaplane flies over the ocean approaching the Scottish isles. The rising sun glints off the water, the wings, and the bright blue pontoons.
INT. SEAPLANE – CONTINUOUS
ELISE WOODWARD, 32, an English police detective, sits in the passenger seat, neatly dressed, not a hair out of place. She gazes out the window over the shining sea.
PILOT: I won’t be able to get back this way for a week. You sure you’ve got everything you need?
ELISE: I’ll manage.
EXT. SEA OF THE HEBRIDES – CONTINUOUS
A green jewel of an island emerges from the horizon— our first glimpse Elise’s destination as the plane approaches.
ELISE: (OS) You ever come out this way before?
PILOT: (OS) Not I. Not much call for it— this is right out in the sticks, I hear.
FLASH TO:
Elise several weeks earlier, sitting in the office of her superior, DCI CHRISTOPHER STEELE. He regards her with a look of skepticism.
STEELE: Sergeant Woodward. Why on earth would you want to go on an expedition into the remote Hebrides?
ELISE: Because of a very concerning packet I received in the mail.
Elise places the documents on the desk in front of her. A photograph of a REDHEADED GIRL CHILD holding a brown rabbit, along with a handwritten note.
ELISE: No match for the prints on the paper, no return address on the envelope.
Steele pulls the note toward himself with the end of his pen.
STEELE: (Reading) “May Morrison, twelve years of age, missing since the first of April. Naught will look for her. Naught will speak her name.”
He glances up into Elise’s solemn face.
STEELE: Are you sure this is real?
ELISE: The postmark’s genuine.
STEELE: But how do you know some Scotch gammon’s not having a laugh at the expense of us big city coppers?
ELISE: Why wouldn’t they trouble their own coppers?
STEELE: (Snorts) Maybe they haven’t got any, out in the wilds.
ELISE: Well. All the more reason then they’d need one of us.
Beat.
ELISE: I’d rather be wrong than leave a lost girl, sir.
Steele considers.
EXT. SUMMERISLE HARBOR – DAY
Back in the present, the plane touches down in the water of the harbor.
STEELE: (VO) What’s the name of this place?
ELISE: (VO) Summerisle.
Figures begin to congregate on the docks, watching the newcomers as they emerge from the plane.
Day #18 - "Summerisle"
From The Wicker Man
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~
FADE IN:
EXT. SEA OF THE HEBRIDES – DAY
A small silver seaplane flies over the ocean approaching the Scottish isles. The rising sun glints off the water, the wings, and the bright blue pontoons.
INT. SEAPLANE – CONTINUOUS
ELISE WOODWARD, 32, an English police detective, sits in the passenger seat, neatly dressed, not a hair out of place. She gazes out the window over the shining sea.
PILOT: I won’t be able to get back this way for a week. You sure you’ve got everything you need?
ELISE: I’ll manage.
EXT. SEA OF THE HEBRIDES – CONTINUOUS
A green jewel of an island emerges from the horizon— our first glimpse Elise’s destination as the plane approaches.
ELISE: (OS) You ever come out this way before?
PILOT: (OS) Not I. Not much call for it— this is right out in the sticks, I hear.
FLASH TO:
Elise several weeks earlier, sitting in the office of her superior, DCI CHRISTOPHER STEELE. He regards her with a look of skepticism.
STEELE: Sergeant Woodward. Why on earth would you want to go on an expedition into the remote Hebrides?
ELISE: Because of a very concerning packet I received in the mail.
Elise places the documents on the desk in front of her. A photograph of a REDHEADED GIRL CHILD holding a brown rabbit, along with a handwritten note.
ELISE: No match for the prints on the paper, no return address on the envelope.
Steele pulls the note toward himself with the end of his pen.
STEELE: (Reading) “May Morrison, twelve years of age, missing since the first of April. Naught will look for her. Naught will speak her name.”
He glances up into Elise’s solemn face.
STEELE: Are you sure this is real?
ELISE: The postmark’s genuine.
STEELE: But how do you know some Scotch gammon’s not having a laugh at the expense of us big city coppers?
ELISE: Why wouldn’t they trouble their own coppers?
STEELE: (Snorts) Maybe they haven’t got any, out in the wilds.
ELISE: Well. All the more reason then they’d need one of us.
Beat.
ELISE: I’d rather be wrong than leave a lost girl, sir.
Steele considers.
EXT. SUMMERISLE HARBOR – DAY
Back in the present, the plane touches down in the water of the harbor.
STEELE: (VO) What’s the name of this place?
ELISE: (VO) Summerisle.
Figures begin to congregate on the docks, watching the newcomers as they emerge from the plane.