Benim cici blogum...
Doors
Posted 09-02-2007 at 11:40 by kymophobia
"The Doors"
Screenplay by
Randall Jahnson and Oliver Stone
SHOOTING DRAFT
1991
INT. BLACK SCREEN
MORRISON'S VOICE
The movie will begin in five moments
The mindless voice announced
All those unseated will await the
next show
We filed slowly, languidly into the
hall
The auditorium was fast and silent
As we seated and were darkened
The voice continued
"The program for this evening is not
new
You've seen this entertainment
Through and through
You've seen your birth, your life
and death
You might recall all the rest
Did you have a good world when you
died?
Enough to base a movie on?"
FADE IN:
INT. RECORDING STUDIO (LAST SESSION) - LA DEC 1970 - NIGHT
A dark silence hovers along the deserted, bunker-like studio.
MIKE stands and booms shadow a grand piano...
The ENGINEER waits in the booth, lit, alert man, bored,
fiddling...
ENGINEER
Hey Jim, It's your birthday man,
whaddaya say we try this another
night...
Camera moving tentatively along the shadows, discovering the
sidelight on a Navy surplus pea jacket thrown on a chair;
moving to a candle's orange flutter on pages written with
verse... a hand breaking the seal of the bottle of Irish
Bushmill's whiskey.
VOICE
(off)
Kill the lights a little more, will
ya John?
They might drop a bit more... Camera crawling past the FINGERS
weaving a new cigarette out of the Marlboro pack. An ashtray
full of butts... and an asthmatic horrid cough, filled with
phlegm... crawling up the slight paunch in the bright jersey
with #66 on it... stitched on the sleeve is the team mascot --
an American Indian in full headdress.
ENGINEER
(off)
Hey man, how come The Doors aren't
in on this?
Camera revealing JAMES DOUGLAS MORRISON, -- 27, poet, buried
in the shadows, curls of cigarette smoke about his haunted
sensuous eyes, meditative lips scragged with beard and long
greasy hair, not a pretty sight, yet a man full and bold and
struggling for survival through his words... beneath the
Bushmill moon, he takes the tambourine and shakes it violently
in our face
JIM
No music, No Doors. Let's roll... Is
everybody in?... Is Everybody in?...
Is everybody in? The ceremony is
about to begin...
He shakes a TAMBOURINE at the mike and one of his sudden
giant Indian YELLS rock through the studio.
JIM
WAKE UP!!!! HAS THIS DREAM STOPPED!!!!
Music riffs from "American Prayer". AUDIENCE SOUNDS ghostly
on the track. The ENGINEER reeling backwards from the sudden
shift in sound, cursing silent.
JIM VOICE
Let me tell you about the heartache
and the loss of God Wandering
wandering in hopeless night Indian's
scattered on dawn's highway bleeding
ghosts crowd the young childs fragile
eggshell mind...
(wind sounds)
The GRIN on Jim's face magnesium flares out to:
EXT. ARIZONA DESERT - DAY (1940'S)
The blinding YELLOWNESS of the desert, so barren, so hot it
stings to look at. An OLD CHEVROLET winds through the yellow-
orange landscape beneath a brooding blue SKY crackling with
ELECTRICITY -- the storm coming in in the distance as the
MUSIC writhes out at us like a reptile from under a rock --
the beat of RIDERS ON THE STORM.
DOORS SONG
Riders on the storm (2)
Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out on loan
Riders on the storm
CREDITS ROLL, OVER THIS DREAMSCAPE
JIM VOICE
(continues over imagery)
...me and my mother and father and
grandmother and grandfather were
driving through the desert at dawn
and a truckload of Indian workers
had either hit another car or just --
I don't know what happened... Indians
were scattered all over the highway
bleeding to death.
INT. CAR - DAY
MOM, DAD, the youngest BABY in the front seat -- pointing at
the storm.
GRANDMA & GRANDAD in the back with JIM, about 4 and his
SISTER, 3 asleep.
Mom's a beauty and Dad's an austere handsome military man in
civilian clothes, mouthing words -- look, wake them up, a
desert storm... but we barely hear
A LIGHTNING BOLT shreds the blue sky with a thunderous sound,
frightening dawn of creation...
Grandma nudging Jim awake. His eyes open --
Just as the car turns the bend -- revealing
An overturned TRUCK lying in the road -- dead and wounded
INDIANS everywhere... A cop car, ambulance. A terrible
accident...
The first thing Jim sees...
An old INDIAN FACE staring at him...
The car pulling alongside, Dad rolling his window down...
asking if he can help (SOUNDLESS) A line of wailing INDIAN
WOMEN, CHILDREN
Mom's scared face...
JIM VOICE
...but it was the first time I tasted
fear. I musta been about four, like
a child is just like a flower, his
head is floating in the breeze.
Grandma trying to hide Jim's face but he looks back...
THE COP WAVING THEM THROUGH
The kid looking back through the rear window, terrified --
his first view of death. The bodies, the sense of doom
overlaying the land -- a child's worst nightmare.
MOM
It's just a dream, Jimmy, just a
dream
SONG
(continues)
There's a killer on the road
His brain is squirming like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play
If you give this man a ride
Sweet family will die
There's a killer on the road
The boy's eyes going back to the Indian MAN looking at him...
then to the dying opened body bleeding out its guts on the
asphalt... the dying man's face, twisted, moaning, amazing
eyes at the point of death -- they settle on Jim
MOM
It's just a dream Jimmy, just a dream
A strange SOUND occurs -- the rattle of an ancient gourd,
"shi-chi-chi, shi-chi-chi". Something flying through the
air. A bull-roarer, a whirling leather thong, announcing the
appearance of a shaman.
INTO JIM -- his eyes staring out the back His receding point
of view -- the Indians, the overturned truck...
JIM VOICE
...The reaction I get now looking
back is the soul of the ghosts of
those dead Indians -- maybe one or
two of them were just running around
freaking out and just leaped into my
soul -- and they're still there.
(wind, music)
SONG
Girl you gotta love your man (2)
Take him by the hand
Make him understand
The car pulling away across the giant 1940's landscape
DISSOLVING TO:
EXT. ARIZONA DESERT - DAY (1963)
SUBTITLE READS: ARIZONA DESERT, 1963. CREDITS CONTINUE TO
ROLL.
Panning up the black chino pants to Jim Morrison, now 20,
steel seaman's suitcase in hand, thumbing a ride, the road
sign behind him saying "Los angeles 370 miles"
SONG
The world on you depends
Our life will never end
Girl you gotta love your man
A LARGE LIZARD in the dust cocks its head, blinks, as the
boots walk by to the car pulling over.
INT. CAR
JIM in the backseat packed with HUSBAND, WIFE, CHILDREN,
DOG, MOTHER-IN-LAW. Between boy and man, eyes ancient and
new. He wears his favorite color: black -- torn black chinos,
paint-spotted black t-shirt, a slouch his favorite pose but
the eyes and smile can be warm and shy like a little boy,
gentle surface, storm in the brain.
The HUSBAND, now looking at Jim a little nervously, pushes
up the Perry Como on the radio... as it cuts to a sudden
news flash:
RADIO
...from the Texas School Book
Depository. We repeat. President
John F. Kennedy was shot a few minutes
ago in Dallas!
SLOW MOTION: The Husband's face distorting, saying something
on the track like: "What! God NO!" but it's subdued, low.
Trying other stations.
Jim turns to look out his window, as if he already knew.
RADIO
(2nd VOICE)
...taken to Parkland Memorial
Hospital. There's no word on the
President's condition. Mrs. Kennedy
is...
The WIFE'S and HUSBAND'S VOICES seem lost in the background.
WIFE & HUSBAND
Oh God, Oh God. Not the President
for Christ's sake. Oh God -- WHO'S
NEXT?
On Jim -- staring out the window. "Who's next!"
SONG
Riders on the storm (4)
On the DESERT.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. VENICE BOARDWALK - LOS ANGELES - DAY (1965)
SUBTITLE READS: VENICE, CALIFORNIA 1965
CREDITS continue to their conclusion as we segue into the
BLUENESS of VENICE, CALIFORNIA, 1965 -- the dawn of a new
age. All was possible.
Individual SHOTS of the BOARDWALK throbbing with a feast of
HIPPIES, head shops, ARTISTS drawing psychedelic murals, POT
SMOKERS, MUSCLE BUILDERS, tambourines accompanying the
transister radios on the Beach Boys and "I Got You Babe",
dogs chasing frisbees, BIKINI BODIES on the beach, LSD sold
over the counter... set to the upbeat chords of HELLO I LOVE
YOU
DOORS SONG
Hello I love you
Won't you tell me your name?
Hello I love you
Let me jump in your game
She's walking down the street
Blind to every eye she meets
Do you think you'll be the guy
To make the Queen of the angels sigh?
JIM, in torn black chinos, no shirt, walking real slow past
it all, carrying a notebook of his own and a paperback of
Baudelaire, his eyes settling on...
A YOUNG BEAUTY and her yellow labrador -- a fashionable thin,
long, red-haired "20th century fox" in jeans moving through
the crowd...
He thinks about it -- a fraction of eternity -- and he's
off... after her.
EXT. VENICE CANAL - DAY
She moves along its banks, as if the universe moved to her
rhythm, turning once to look back. Jim caught in her eyes.
They're alone. Now he's the one seized by doubt. He slows,
pretends to take another interest.
DOORS SONG
She holds her head so high
Like a statue in the sky
Her arms are wicked
And her legs are long
When she moves
My brain screams out this song
EXT. VENICE CANAL - ANOTHER CANAL - DAY
As she turns into another street, he resumes following her.
She gets to a house, goes in. There's a group of people
partying. He stops, watches.
DOORS SONG
Sidewalk crouches at her feet
Like a dog that begs for something sweet
Do you hope to make her see you, fool?
Do you hope to pluck this dusky jewel?
EXT. PAMELA'S HOUSE - VENICE CANAL - THAT EVENING
The two story house has a quaint run-down charm. Friends
have dropped by, people smoking joints, beers.
She's on the upstairs balcony -- talking with a YOUNG MAN
(professor type) in his 30's, who passes her a joint.
JIM lurks in the shadows of the trees; he's been standing
outside watching... The MUSIC shifts to the quieter LOVE
STREET.
DOORS SONG
She lives on Love Street
Lingers long on Love Street
She has a house and garden
I would like to see what happens
The YOUNG MAN gestures, and goes back inside the house. She's
alone now on the balcony, sitting on a kitchen table...
It's now or never. Jim scales the tree alongside the house
with the agility of a gymnast.
DOORS SONG
She has robes and she has monkeys
Lazy diamond studded flunkies
She has wisdom and knows what to do
She has me and she has you
The girl's grinding up pot in an old shoebox with a spoon
and kitchen strainer. She looks up and sees his crotch three
feet from her face, balanced there effortlessly on the railing
like a highwire act, opens her mouth in surprise.
Jim drops softly to the balcony, a smile of disarming
gentleness.
JIM
Hi...
GIRL
Wow! Hi...
(looking at the tree)
You have a problem with doors?
JIM
Waste of time...
His head cocked slightly onto his left shoulder, he drawls,
southern gentleman, polite, slow, thoughtful as if he had
all the time in the world, as if the guy would never come
back.
JIM
I followed you... from the beach...
GIRL
(impressed)
Wow! You followed me? Why?
JIM
...cause... you're the one...
He moves. Kisses her swiftly, softly, right on the lips.
GIRL
(mesmerized, awkward)
Wow... neat...
(looks back)
...maybe you should meet my old man?
JIM
Later. You got a name?
He looks into her face. Classic American face, freckles, big
round eyes soft as rain, long sunset red hair. She feels his
intense, starving eyes. He kisses her a second time.
The YOUNG MAN coming back with the rolling paper -- sees
him.
As he hops back on the railing -- swings out into the tree --
looks back once.
JIM
Mine's Jim.
A moment. She must decide. The YOUNG MAN within earshot.
GIRL
Pam...
The ice broken in that instant. Jim smiles.
JIM
Jim and Pam, Pam and Jim...
He vanishes. The Man abreast of Pamela, as if he's seen a
vision.
YOUNG MAN
Who the hell was that?
PAMELA
(everything's cool)
That's Jim. My new friend.
INT. UCLA SCREENING ROOM - DAY (1965)
On the screen a 16mm black and white student film of a
stunning BLOND in black bra, panties, garters dancing in
black heels on top of a TV set. panning down to images of
goose-stepping Nazis and a Nuremberg rally on the set. Sounds
of lovemaking and an Indian peyote ceremony from the track,
an Indian holy man incanting... Jim's VOICE comes on the
track as well.
JIM'S VOICE
Nietzche said "all great things must
first wear monstrous and terrifying
masks in order to inscribe themselves
on the hearts of humanity". Listen
children -- to the sound of the
Nuremberg night.
STUDENTS in the audience groan at the pretention of it. Moving
to JIM's eyes hidden in his parka hood, peeking through at
the screen.
A CLOSEUP now of JIM on screen looking straight into the
lens as he takes a hit on a hash pipe, and winks.
JIM VOICE
(on screen)
Have you ever seen God? -- a mandala.
A symmetrical angel. Felt? Yes.
Fucking the Sun. Heard? The music.
Voices. Touched? An animal. Your
hand Tasted? Rare meat, corn, water
and wine
STUDENTS
(ad lib)
SSSSssss... ego trip man, c'mon!
RAY MANZAREK, a tall student with powerful voice and manner,
thick glasses, long hair sweeping down over his eyes, leans
over to Jim.
RAY
Hey man it's great, don't listen to
em, it's non-linear man, it's poetry
man, everything Godard stands for.
The lights coming on as the last absurdist images flicker
off. Hissing and a big Bronx cheer summarize the feelings of
the 100 odd STUDENTS crammed into a bunker-like theater.
A youngish INSTRUCTOR stirs to the front row from a row of
upset FACULTY. Hands shooting up to criticize.
INSTRUCTOR
This is pretty shocking stuff Mr.
Morrison. And I might say indulgent.
Naziism and masturbation, when used
for shock value, are not art. But to
be constructive, let's start with
your intention. What was it?
STUDENT 1
It was a bore!! That's what!
(laughter)
TRICK, BONES and JACK, three friends sitting next to Jim,
shoot their hands up.
TRICK
Hey it was better'n a Warhol picture.
GIRL 1
No it wasn't. It was worse!
TRICK
A guy sleeping for seven hours...
STUDENT 2
...is less pretentious! There was no
political consciousness. Naziism
is...
JACK
Hey hold on man! You guys are the
facists!
BONES
It takes genitalism to absurdity
man, just cause the squares here
can't dig it cause the film school's
still so square...
VOICES
Oh c'mon man, give it a break. Boo!
Beatniks go home! Take another
mushroom...
A cacophony of voices, critics, emotions blend out over Jim's
quiet eyes.
INSTRUCTOR
HOLD IT DOWN!!... Mr. Morrison --
what are your feelings?
JIM
I quit.
(walks out)
EXT. TURKEY JOINT WEST - NIGHT
JIM, BONES, TRICK, JACK approaching the bar. MUSIC of "GLORIA"
blasting from the door, CHICKS popping in and out, definitely
college crowd circa '65.
TRICK
(to Jim)
Hey man whatdya expect, an Oscar?
BONES
You can't quit, you gotta voice.
People can't dig cause they don't
understand yet.
JACK
If you're an individual, if you're
too good, they wanna cut your dick
off. Look what happened to Orson
Wells.
TRICK
You quit now, they'll yank your
deferment in no time and they'll get
you for Vietnam man. Three more months
you graduate.
BONES
Be cool, you never learned fuckin
patience Morrison, you want everything
at once.
NICK
They didn't get it. So make your
films and fuck what they think.
JIM
You know what I think?
He slows, a dramatic young lion pose, surveying the girls.
BONES
Yeah whadday you think?
JIM
You really want to know what I think?
The cronies wait, anticipating something inescapably evil to
escape his lips.
BONES
Yeah yeah, whatddaya think?
JIM
I think we gotta get really ripped!
INT. TURKEY JOINT WEST - NIGHT
Tall bespectacled RAY MANZAREK is banging out GLORIA on the
piano in bad Jerry Lee Lewis style.
RAY
I tell you bout my baby 'bout five
foot four from head to toe She came
to my room Just 'bout midnight She
makes me feel so good She makes me
feel alright
Camera moving to reveal JOHN DENSMORE wiry, solid on the
drums... moving on to ROBBIE KRIEGER, wispy, ethereal looking,
the youngest, flamenco-type moves on his early electric
guitar. Also a HARMONICA PLAYER and a BASE. They all seem
slightly embarrassed by either the cheap sound system feedback
or Ray's warbling, but the crowd couldn't care less -- a
German beerhall, they want noise and sex.
JIM and his GANG, beers in hand, mouth back the words, beers
everywhere shoved to the smokey ceiling, everyone on their
feet, nuts with spring fever. Jim eyeing the GIRL next to
him.
JIM
You know what I'd like to do to you?
GIRL
(waiting, intrigued)
No what?
JIM
You really want to know what I'd
like to do to you?
GIRL
What!
The FOOTBALL TEAM TYPES edge over nearby, one of them picking
out Jim with a glare.
JIM
(whispering)
Wanna hear the scream of the
butterfly...
She looks puzzled by the suggestion.
FOOTBALL PLAYER
Hey Morrison!
JIM
(eluding the man)
Can we have a couple of beers. You're
not even an asshole man -- you're a
semihole.
He evades the football man's grasp, elusive physicality. He
hops over tables, heading for the stage. Other KIDS are up
on the stage dancing, but Jim goes right up alongside RAY,
shaking his hips like Elvis. Ray giving him the mike. Improv
time.
JIM
(singing)
She came to my room
She came on my floor
She came on my bed
She came on my face
Ooooooh I want to wrap your legs
around my head baby baby and her
name was Gloria
They love it. The place going wild. The girl with the football
player wanting him.
INT. RAY'S CAR - FREEWAY - NIGHT
JIM is insane on beers in the back seat, reaching over the
wheel to try to drive the car for RAY who is flailing at
him. Jim pulling Ray's hair...
JIM
(barely comprehensible)
HA HA HA HA HA! COME ON, LET'S DRIVE
TO MEXICO MAN. TIJUANA. LET'S GET
LOST!
Jammed into the sedan are TRICK, BONES, ROBBIE, JOHN...
RAY & ALL
COOL IT JIM, COME ON COOL IT.
JIM
FREEDOM!!! DON'T YOU KNOW YOU'RE ALL
SLAVES!
As he winds down the window and starts crawling out of the
car. Heavy traffic. Ray weaving to avoid another vehicle.
Honking horn.
JOHN
HE'S GOING OUT! HE'S GOING OUT!
TRICK
HE'S GONNA JUMP!
RAY
GET HIM BACK IN!
His waist is out the window, John and all grabbing for his
heels.
EXT. SPEEDING CAR - NIGHT
SPECIAL EFFECT: JIM's head six inches from pavement moving
at 60 mph through heavy traffic. Screaming, laughing like a
maniac. Beeping horns all over the place.
JIM
DEATH OLD FRIEND!!
In the car, madness, raging chaos, the four boys pulling him
in.
EXT./INT. PAMELA'S HOUSE - VENICE CANAL - THAT NIGHT
Night. Shadows. A tree. A figure moving.
JIM
(SONG)
Awake!
Shake dreams from your hair, my pretty child my sweet one
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
The day's divinity the first thing you see
Jim slides her upstairs' door open, crawls in next to her
bed. She's asleep with her boyfriend. He touches her toe.
She awakes, startled.
JIM
Come on, come out for a walk, it's a
pretty night.
PAM
You're crazy!
EXT. VENICE CANALS - NIGHT
JIM and PAMELA moving along the byways. A clear starry
California night.
JIM
(SONG)
A vast radiant beach
And a cool jewelled moon
Couples naked, race down by its quiet side
And we laugh like soft mad children
There's a crash. They turn bristling.
A COYOTE lurks under the sickly light of a streetlamp, pulling
its head from an overstuffed garbage can, looking back at
them.
EXT. VENICE BOARDWALK - NIGHT
Fires on the boardwalk. Hippies, Bums, Older People. JIM and
PAM move through talking, skipping, touching like children.
JIM
(SONG)
...smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy
The music and voices are all around us
Choose, they croon, the ancient ones
The time has come again
EXT. VENICE BEACH - NIGHT
The two of them race down by its side, slowing to a walk.
His [...] loved orphan voice.
JIM
Can I stay with you tonight? We could
talk 'till dawn. I just don't want
to be alone.
PAM
(hesitant)
Okay... just talk though. No funny
stuff.
JIM
Okay. I promise.
PAM
I've been real upset. I lost my car
on the freeway yesterday. I left it
somewhere and I can't remember where
and when I went back it was gone. My
sister...
JIM
I bet you never expected life could
be this hard.
(strokes her hair
affectionately)
And you're still so young.
She breaks into sobs, seeking his arms. He hugs her.
JIM
I wonder where we'll be ten years
from now?
PAM
I really don't want to know
JIM
Come on.
JIM
(SONG)
Choose now, they croon
Beneath the moon
Beside an ancient lake
Enter again the sweet forest
Enter the hot dream
Come with us
Everything is broken up and dances
EXT. VENICE BUILDING - NIGHT
Their silhouettes mount the fire escape of a jagged old
structure overlooking the boardwalk.
EXT. VENICE ROOFTOP - NIGHT
PAM glancing through Jim's notebooks as they sit on his
sleeping bag with a lantern and bunsen burner, overlooking
moon, ocean, scudding clouds and a vast forest of television
antennas. Fires burn from the beach.
In the notebooks, at intervals during the conversation, we
see powerful sketches colored in visionary hallucinogenic
William Blake mode with writing between. Books are everywhere --
panning Kerouac, Ginsberg, Nietzsche, Rimbaud, Mailer, Artaud,
mythological works, shamanistic books, a library of stolen
ideas.
PAM
(reading, looking)
These are like beautiful! I never
read much poetry in school. I hated
it. What's a "shaman"?
(mispronounces)
JIM
He's the medicine man who starts in
a peyote trance. And he gets everyone
in the tribe going and they share in
his vision and it heals them. It's
the same in all cultures -- Greeks,
Jesus. Some Indians say the first
shaman invented sex. He's the one
who makes you crazy.
PAM
Are you a "shaman"?
JIM
Uh
(pause)
no. I just write about it. What turns
you on?
PAM
I don't know. Experience. Freedom.
Love... Now. Peyote's like love.
When it's given it's blessed. When
it's sold it's damned. I like peyote.
I like acid, it's easier to get. I
like the spiritual voyage. The first
time I did acid I saw God. I did. I
had a friend who was Christ. And he
was Judas too. I suddenly knew the
secret of everything -- that we're
all one, the universe is one. And
that everything is beautiful.
JIM
Is it? I don't know. I think you're
alive by confronting death -- by
experiencing pain.
PAM
I think you're alive by recognizing
beauty -- seeing truth because when
you discover truth you discover what
love is... we're all saying the same
thing. It's "love me and I'll love
you."
JIM
(looks at her, ironic)
It's only thru death that you know
life. Jesus, medicine men heal people
by sacrificing their own life.
PAM
Do you love Death?
JIM
I think life hurts a lot more than
death. When you die the pain is over.
Pam shivers, a strange thought.
PAM
Why do I look at you... and see my
death?
(pause, shrugs)
No, that's ridiculous.
JIM
I bet your dad's a school teacher.
PAM
How did you know!
JIM
I don't know.
PAM
What was your father?
JIM
Military
PAM
I bet you moved around a lot.
JIM
Yeah, about 8 times.
PAM
How many sisters and brothers?
JIM
Two.
PAM
One... she's the pretty one... I
love your neck.
(she gets in his lap)
He runs his fingers thru her hair, kissing her gently.
JIM
"...but one, the most beautiful one
of all dances in a ring of fire and
throws off the challenge with a shrug"
PAM
That's beautiful. Who did you write
it for?
JIM
I wrote it for you.
The panties coming off. Rousseau dangling from the Venice
moon. He moves a little over excited, nervous, more awkward
than we might expect.
PAM
...take your time, Jim... there's no
hurry, I'm all you have to do
tonight...
DOORS SONG
Well the clock says it's time to close now
I guess I'd better go now...
As we depart the rooftop.
Your fingers weak with minarets
Speaking secret alphabets
I light another cigarette
Learn to forget, learn to forget, learn to forget
DISSOLVE TO:
Possibly we hear the soft backbeat of MOONLIGHT DRIVE without
lyrics.
RAY MANZAREK is meditating in yoga posture, longer hair as
well, in his post-graduate phase, sandals, colorful hippie
shirt. But the meditation is not going well. He's shaking
his head at himself, frowning.
RAY
Om om... No bliss! No bliss!
Jim has approached closer, amused, looking down.
JIM
Hey Ray, try acid man, it's
guaranteed.
Ray opening his eyes -- his POV -- Jim, slouched, jacket
over his shoulder, sun behind him.
RAY
(surprised)
Morrison... Aw shit. Last trip I
thought I was going through hell's
digestive system. Something painted
by Hieronymus Bosch.
JIM
I never had a bummer on acid.
RAY
I like naturally high man.
JIM
Whatever works. Making movies at MGM
yet?
RAY
Well I saw the head of production
and I said Godard doesn't use scripts,
he improvises with his camera and he
said, "great who's Godard?"
JIM
(laughs)
We gotta take the planet back,
reinvent the Gods, make new myths.
RAY
Right on. I thought you went to New
York?
JIM
Never got there. Went out to the
desert and uh... got lost y'know.
Days. I been living on Trick's
rooftop. Got stuck on this chick...
RAY
Whatcha been doing?
JIM
Writing. Poems. Songs.
RAY
Songs? Lemme hear one.
JIM
I can't sing.
RAY
So neither can Dylan. "Johnny's in
the basement mixing up the medicine,
I'm on the pavement thinking about
the government". But he's got the
words man. That's what they want.
JIM
(suddenly sings)
Let's swim to the moon un hunh
Let's climb thru the tide
Penetrate the evening
That the city sleeps to hide
Jim has crouched, digging his hand in the sand. As the grains
spill out of his fist he has his eyes closed.
Ray pantomimes chords in the keyboard sand. All of a sudden
we're in RAY'S POV -- a mystical moment. Jim singing, no
sound, then pure song, unadulterated by atmosphere.
JIM
Let's swim out tonight love
It's our turn to try
Parked beside the ocean
On our moonlight drive
Jim stops, shrugs. Ray looks at him a long beat. Intense
eyes, the manner of a man who knows what he wants and cannot
be stopped.
RAY
Wow!... Y'know man those are hot
lyrics -- really hot!
JIM
(pleased)
...could you write the music for
that down, if we went over to your
place, could you write that on your
organ?
RAY
Are you kidding! I could fly. You
wrote that? You got others?
JIM
A bunch. It's like I'm taking notes
at a rock concert going on inside my
head. I actually hear the music --
the spirit of the wine y'know,
intoxication.
RAY
(slaps him on the
knee)
Man. You got a voice like Chet Baker --
haunted! What the hell happened to
you in the desert? Let's get a rock
and roll band together man and make
a million bucks.
JIM
...be great wouldn't it?
RAY
(walking JIM)
It's the perfect time man! Two of
the guys outta my band are really
into this. I meditate with them. You
know them... Robbie and John. We
could have it in the can in three
weeks.
JIM
Hey why not, I could write the songs
with you guys.
RAY
The Stones did it outta the London
School of Economics for Chrissake.
Things are about to explode man. You
can feel it in the air.
(points out over the
ocean)
Vietnam's right out there. Sides are
being chosen. People wanna fight or
fuck, love or kill, everything's
gonna flame. The planet's screaming
for change, Morrison. Make the myths
man!!
Jim laughs, loves Ray's ardor as they move along the ocean
side.
JIM
There oughta be great orgies man.
Like when Dionysus arrived in Greece,
he made all the women mad, leaving
their homes and dancing off in the
mountains. Great golden copulations
in the streets of LA.
(looks at a passing
girl)
Hey, do you know her?
RAY
What do we call ourselves. "Dionysus"?
JIM
I got a name.
RAY
What?
JIM
The Doors.
RAY
The Doors?
(facial distaste)
That's the most ridiculous...
(then)
...you mean The Doors in your mind?
Like the Huxley book.
JIM
"The Doors of Perception"? Acid...
RAY
Yeah sure mescaline experiments --
reducing the sugar flow to the brain.
Great book.
JIM
It's from William Blake actually,
the line -- "when The Doors of
perception are cleansed -- things
will appear as they truly are..."
RAY
(finishes)
-- infinite". It's great, Jim.
JIM
So where do we start? How do we start?
Where are the girls?
RAY
Rehearsing. You're moving off the
rooftop and in with me and Dorothy.
As they walk off, the two of them along the edge of the
Pacific. A dog jumping for a frisbee. The music of MOONLIGHT
DRIVE now riffs over the real song now.
DOORS SONG
Let's swim to the moon
Let's climb thru the tide
Penetrate the evening
That the city sleeps to hide...
DISSOLVING TO:
INT. RAY'S HOUSE - VENICE BEACH - DAY
The first heavy strains of BREAK ON THROUGH driving over the
DISSOLVE. It sounds bad technically, but it's hot. Random
raw screams and shouting. PAM is crosslegged on the floor,
clapping to the music, number one fan.
JIM & DOORS
(live)
The day destroys the night
Night divides the day
Tried to run
Tried to hide
Break on thru to the other side
JIM straining to make it work, jumping around violent, still
not in control. Yet searching. JOHN cutting out.
JOHN
That's really square. Let's hip it
up. Jump on your cues.
RAY
Tighten it up. Stay with the beat
Jim. You're dragging.
JIM
Let's try it again, come on. I'm
just getting into it.
PAM
(on floor)
I think it's hot!!
ROBBIE
(strumming)
I still think the lyrics are weird
man.
JOHN
(frustrated)
I still think it sounds like the
bottom of a fishbowl man.
JIM
(to Robbie, aggravated)
Then you write one man! We need more
songs anyway. We all gotta go back
and write.
They're drained, tired, in a large rehersal/living room 30
feet high, fronted by large glass windows looking out at the
beach at Marina. The room is filled with golden, gorgeous
setting sunlight.
PAMELA goes to the kitchen with DOROTHY, Ray's Japanese
fiancee.
ROBBIE
I been working on something goes
like this... A minor.
(chords his guitar)
"You know that it would be untrue
You know that I would be a liar
If I was to say to you
Girl, we couldn't get much higher"
F sharp... chorus
"Come on baby, light my fire
Try to set the night on fire..."
Robbie's voice is tinny but something immediate's in the
air, all the radar out.
RAY
Okay man there's some good changes
in there.
JIM
Got any more lyrics?
ROBBIE
(gives Jim a page of
lyrics)
Some. I call it "Light My Fire". I
figger if I'm gonna compete with
your stuff it's gotta be about earth,
fire or snakes.
JIM
Don't underestimate Death.
JOHN
Yeah but it sounds like the Byrds
man, we're not folk rock man. How
'bout trying it with a Latin beat.
ROBBIE
I thought we could do the usual verse
chorus verse chorus and
JOHN
We don't need a bridge.
ROBBIE
Yeah, we could maybe improvise a
couple piano and guitar solos over
it
(kicks in second verse)
"The time to hesitate is through"
(doesn't have the
second line)
Du du duh dud dada . . .
JIM
(spontaneous)
"No time to wallow in the mire
Try now we can only lose
And our love become a funeral pyre
Come on baby light my fire"
John drumming it, different, more Latin.
JIM
Pretty good! Pretty neat!!
RAY
(to John)
Nice groove, John. Chaka chaka chaka,
then bula burump bula
(to Robbie)
...you're right, it could take a
coupla long solos, that's wild man,
like Butterfield did on "East-West" --
really hip.
ROBBIE
Y'ever heard Coltrane's "Favorite
Things"?
JOHN
(hitting the drums)
Yeah -- maybe stretch it out and put
it in 4/4 on bass, 3/4 on guitar and
snare.
RAY
(clicking, excited)
Why not! A minor to B minor. Jazz!
That then is jazz! But it needs a
hook. Something. Give me some space.
I need some space. Leave the room
guys. Come on! Go!
The three excluded Doors head out to the beach like obedient
schoolboys while Ray fools with his organ.
EXT. VENICE BEACH - DAY
As they go out, JIM hugging ROBBIE's head to his shoulder as
they feel the excitement of a new song.
JOHN
(irritated at Ray)
Guy's obnoxious, man always bossin'
people around! I thought we were
equals!
JIM
Aren't we?
(to Robbie)
That was great Robbie. Whaddaya
thinking about when you play?
ROBBIE
Don't know. Mostly the fish in my
fish tank.
JIM
(laughs)
Hey whadya say we take some of that
Tijuana acid and see what kinda
trouble we can get into tonight?
ROBBIE
The chicks always go for you man. I
get the dogs.
JIM
Then we'll start a religion or plan
a murder or go to Tijuana.
JOHN
Whatsamatter with you man, what about
Pam, you got the morals of a coyote.
JIM
Why you wanna sleep with her John,
just to bug me?
JOHN
Hell NO!
JIM
...means "hell yes". She likes you
man, she really does and y'all should.
What's a rock and roll band for man,
if you can't party all night and do
bad things?
RAY
(yelling from the
house)
I GOT IT I GOT IT... GET IN HERE.
HURRY.
JOHN
Sieg Heil!
As they head back.
INT. RAY'S HOUSE - DAY
TIGHT on RAY like a schoolmaster cueing them.
RAY
Okay here it is. Bach and Rock. Count
it off John
JOHN
(clicking)
1... 2... 1 - 2 - 3
(crack)
It goes. The famous organ intro to LIGHT MY FIRE blends over
the room like magic, carrying JIM, ROBBIE, JOHN, DOROTHY,
PAMELA along over:
EXT. SUNSET STRIP (TRAVELLING) - NIGHT (1966)
A row of NIGHTCLUBS glisten off the hoods of passing traffic.
Marquees announce: THE BYRDS, RED ROOSTER, LOVE, THE HERD,
TURTLES, CAPTAIN BEEFHEART. The CLUBS are PANDORA'S BOX, THE
TRIP, CIRO'S, BIDO LITO'S, GAZZARRI'S, THE EXPERIENCE... .
Headlights and neon intercut with:
DOCUMENTARY TYPE SHOTS of TEENAGERS, HIPPIES, LONGHAIRS,
running summer rampant, banging tambourines. COPS busting
kids against cars on the street as PARENTS go by rolling up
their windows. The action was on the street. LIGHT MY FIRE
carries over the montage.
DOORS SONG
You know that it would be untrue etc.
JIM VOICE
(last session)
The music was new black polished
chrome and came over the summer like
liquid night.
EXT. LONDON FOG - NIGHT
"The Doors -- BAND FROM VENICE" on the marquee... moving
down to a motley crew of TEENAGE GIRLS, underage, trying to
get past the BOUNCER. The sounds of BREAK ON THROUGH carry
past when The Doors open and close admitting a SAILOR.
GIRL GROUPIE
(approaching, to 2nd
girl)
Is that horny motherfucker in the
black pants here tonight?
BOUNCER
IDs! IDs! Can't get in without an
I.D..
GIRL 2
Oh please. I forgot my I.D.. I'm on
the list.
BOUNCER
I forgot my list.
INT. LONDON FOG - NIGHT
BREAK ON THROUGH blasting out at us from a sleazehole --
half full -- BIKERS, SAILORS, HOOKERS, a baseball game on
the TV. A dance floor the size of a bed, The Doors on a tiny
platform above the bar, London newspapers on the wall.
JIM & DOORS
(live)
We chased our pleasures here
Dug our treasures there
Can you still recall the time we
cried
BREAK on through to the other side
(3)
Some groupies have formed a small fan club at the base of
the stage, muscling past PAM, but most people ignore them,
drinking, arguing, dancing to their own fuckbeats. Possibly
this has something to do with the fact that JIM sings with
his back to all of them.
JOHN looking over furious at RAY who mutters under the music.
RAY
Turn around Jim! Come on let 'em in.
Screenplay by
Randall Jahnson and Oliver Stone
SHOOTING DRAFT
1991
INT. BLACK SCREEN
MORRISON'S VOICE
The movie will begin in five moments
The mindless voice announced
All those unseated will await the
next show
We filed slowly, languidly into the
hall
The auditorium was fast and silent
As we seated and were darkened
The voice continued
"The program for this evening is not
new
You've seen this entertainment
Through and through
You've seen your birth, your life
and death
You might recall all the rest
Did you have a good world when you
died?
Enough to base a movie on?"
FADE IN:
INT. RECORDING STUDIO (LAST SESSION) - LA DEC 1970 - NIGHT
A dark silence hovers along the deserted, bunker-like studio.
MIKE stands and booms shadow a grand piano...
The ENGINEER waits in the booth, lit, alert man, bored,
fiddling...
ENGINEER
Hey Jim, It's your birthday man,
whaddaya say we try this another
night...
Camera moving tentatively along the shadows, discovering the
sidelight on a Navy surplus pea jacket thrown on a chair;
moving to a candle's orange flutter on pages written with
verse... a hand breaking the seal of the bottle of Irish
Bushmill's whiskey.
VOICE
(off)
Kill the lights a little more, will
ya John?
They might drop a bit more... Camera crawling past the FINGERS
weaving a new cigarette out of the Marlboro pack. An ashtray
full of butts... and an asthmatic horrid cough, filled with
phlegm... crawling up the slight paunch in the bright jersey
with #66 on it... stitched on the sleeve is the team mascot --
an American Indian in full headdress.
ENGINEER
(off)
Hey man, how come The Doors aren't
in on this?
Camera revealing JAMES DOUGLAS MORRISON, -- 27, poet, buried
in the shadows, curls of cigarette smoke about his haunted
sensuous eyes, meditative lips scragged with beard and long
greasy hair, not a pretty sight, yet a man full and bold and
struggling for survival through his words... beneath the
Bushmill moon, he takes the tambourine and shakes it violently
in our face
JIM
No music, No Doors. Let's roll... Is
everybody in?... Is Everybody in?...
Is everybody in? The ceremony is
about to begin...
He shakes a TAMBOURINE at the mike and one of his sudden
giant Indian YELLS rock through the studio.
JIM
WAKE UP!!!! HAS THIS DREAM STOPPED!!!!
Music riffs from "American Prayer". AUDIENCE SOUNDS ghostly
on the track. The ENGINEER reeling backwards from the sudden
shift in sound, cursing silent.
JIM VOICE
Let me tell you about the heartache
and the loss of God Wandering
wandering in hopeless night Indian's
scattered on dawn's highway bleeding
ghosts crowd the young childs fragile
eggshell mind...
(wind sounds)
The GRIN on Jim's face magnesium flares out to:
EXT. ARIZONA DESERT - DAY (1940'S)
The blinding YELLOWNESS of the desert, so barren, so hot it
stings to look at. An OLD CHEVROLET winds through the yellow-
orange landscape beneath a brooding blue SKY crackling with
ELECTRICITY -- the storm coming in in the distance as the
MUSIC writhes out at us like a reptile from under a rock --
the beat of RIDERS ON THE STORM.
DOORS SONG
Riders on the storm (2)
Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out on loan
Riders on the storm
CREDITS ROLL, OVER THIS DREAMSCAPE
JIM VOICE
(continues over imagery)
...me and my mother and father and
grandmother and grandfather were
driving through the desert at dawn
and a truckload of Indian workers
had either hit another car or just --
I don't know what happened... Indians
were scattered all over the highway
bleeding to death.
INT. CAR - DAY
MOM, DAD, the youngest BABY in the front seat -- pointing at
the storm.
GRANDMA & GRANDAD in the back with JIM, about 4 and his
SISTER, 3 asleep.
Mom's a beauty and Dad's an austere handsome military man in
civilian clothes, mouthing words -- look, wake them up, a
desert storm... but we barely hear
A LIGHTNING BOLT shreds the blue sky with a thunderous sound,
frightening dawn of creation...
Grandma nudging Jim awake. His eyes open --
Just as the car turns the bend -- revealing
An overturned TRUCK lying in the road -- dead and wounded
INDIANS everywhere... A cop car, ambulance. A terrible
accident...
The first thing Jim sees...
An old INDIAN FACE staring at him...
The car pulling alongside, Dad rolling his window down...
asking if he can help (SOUNDLESS) A line of wailing INDIAN
WOMEN, CHILDREN
Mom's scared face...
JIM VOICE
...but it was the first time I tasted
fear. I musta been about four, like
a child is just like a flower, his
head is floating in the breeze.
Grandma trying to hide Jim's face but he looks back...
THE COP WAVING THEM THROUGH
The kid looking back through the rear window, terrified --
his first view of death. The bodies, the sense of doom
overlaying the land -- a child's worst nightmare.
MOM
It's just a dream, Jimmy, just a
dream
SONG
(continues)
There's a killer on the road
His brain is squirming like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play
If you give this man a ride
Sweet family will die
There's a killer on the road
The boy's eyes going back to the Indian MAN looking at him...
then to the dying opened body bleeding out its guts on the
asphalt... the dying man's face, twisted, moaning, amazing
eyes at the point of death -- they settle on Jim
MOM
It's just a dream Jimmy, just a dream
A strange SOUND occurs -- the rattle of an ancient gourd,
"shi-chi-chi, shi-chi-chi". Something flying through the
air. A bull-roarer, a whirling leather thong, announcing the
appearance of a shaman.
INTO JIM -- his eyes staring out the back His receding point
of view -- the Indians, the overturned truck...
JIM VOICE
...The reaction I get now looking
back is the soul of the ghosts of
those dead Indians -- maybe one or
two of them were just running around
freaking out and just leaped into my
soul -- and they're still there.
(wind, music)
SONG
Girl you gotta love your man (2)
Take him by the hand
Make him understand
The car pulling away across the giant 1940's landscape
DISSOLVING TO:
EXT. ARIZONA DESERT - DAY (1963)
SUBTITLE READS: ARIZONA DESERT, 1963. CREDITS CONTINUE TO
ROLL.
Panning up the black chino pants to Jim Morrison, now 20,
steel seaman's suitcase in hand, thumbing a ride, the road
sign behind him saying "Los angeles 370 miles"
SONG
The world on you depends
Our life will never end
Girl you gotta love your man
A LARGE LIZARD in the dust cocks its head, blinks, as the
boots walk by to the car pulling over.
INT. CAR
JIM in the backseat packed with HUSBAND, WIFE, CHILDREN,
DOG, MOTHER-IN-LAW. Between boy and man, eyes ancient and
new. He wears his favorite color: black -- torn black chinos,
paint-spotted black t-shirt, a slouch his favorite pose but
the eyes and smile can be warm and shy like a little boy,
gentle surface, storm in the brain.
The HUSBAND, now looking at Jim a little nervously, pushes
up the Perry Como on the radio... as it cuts to a sudden
news flash:
RADIO
...from the Texas School Book
Depository. We repeat. President
John F. Kennedy was shot a few minutes
ago in Dallas!
SLOW MOTION: The Husband's face distorting, saying something
on the track like: "What! God NO!" but it's subdued, low.
Trying other stations.
Jim turns to look out his window, as if he already knew.
RADIO
(2nd VOICE)
...taken to Parkland Memorial
Hospital. There's no word on the
President's condition. Mrs. Kennedy
is...
The WIFE'S and HUSBAND'S VOICES seem lost in the background.
WIFE & HUSBAND
Oh God, Oh God. Not the President
for Christ's sake. Oh God -- WHO'S
NEXT?
On Jim -- staring out the window. "Who's next!"
SONG
Riders on the storm (4)
On the DESERT.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. VENICE BOARDWALK - LOS ANGELES - DAY (1965)
SUBTITLE READS: VENICE, CALIFORNIA 1965
CREDITS continue to their conclusion as we segue into the
BLUENESS of VENICE, CALIFORNIA, 1965 -- the dawn of a new
age. All was possible.
Individual SHOTS of the BOARDWALK throbbing with a feast of
HIPPIES, head shops, ARTISTS drawing psychedelic murals, POT
SMOKERS, MUSCLE BUILDERS, tambourines accompanying the
transister radios on the Beach Boys and "I Got You Babe",
dogs chasing frisbees, BIKINI BODIES on the beach, LSD sold
over the counter... set to the upbeat chords of HELLO I LOVE
YOU
DOORS SONG
Hello I love you
Won't you tell me your name?
Hello I love you
Let me jump in your game
She's walking down the street
Blind to every eye she meets
Do you think you'll be the guy
To make the Queen of the angels sigh?
JIM, in torn black chinos, no shirt, walking real slow past
it all, carrying a notebook of his own and a paperback of
Baudelaire, his eyes settling on...
A YOUNG BEAUTY and her yellow labrador -- a fashionable thin,
long, red-haired "20th century fox" in jeans moving through
the crowd...
He thinks about it -- a fraction of eternity -- and he's
off... after her.
EXT. VENICE CANAL - DAY
She moves along its banks, as if the universe moved to her
rhythm, turning once to look back. Jim caught in her eyes.
They're alone. Now he's the one seized by doubt. He slows,
pretends to take another interest.
DOORS SONG
She holds her head so high
Like a statue in the sky
Her arms are wicked
And her legs are long
When she moves
My brain screams out this song
EXT. VENICE CANAL - ANOTHER CANAL - DAY
As she turns into another street, he resumes following her.
She gets to a house, goes in. There's a group of people
partying. He stops, watches.
DOORS SONG
Sidewalk crouches at her feet
Like a dog that begs for something sweet
Do you hope to make her see you, fool?
Do you hope to pluck this dusky jewel?
EXT. PAMELA'S HOUSE - VENICE CANAL - THAT EVENING
The two story house has a quaint run-down charm. Friends
have dropped by, people smoking joints, beers.
She's on the upstairs balcony -- talking with a YOUNG MAN
(professor type) in his 30's, who passes her a joint.
JIM lurks in the shadows of the trees; he's been standing
outside watching... The MUSIC shifts to the quieter LOVE
STREET.
DOORS SONG
She lives on Love Street
Lingers long on Love Street
She has a house and garden
I would like to see what happens
The YOUNG MAN gestures, and goes back inside the house. She's
alone now on the balcony, sitting on a kitchen table...
It's now or never. Jim scales the tree alongside the house
with the agility of a gymnast.
DOORS SONG
She has robes and she has monkeys
Lazy diamond studded flunkies
She has wisdom and knows what to do
She has me and she has you
The girl's grinding up pot in an old shoebox with a spoon
and kitchen strainer. She looks up and sees his crotch three
feet from her face, balanced there effortlessly on the railing
like a highwire act, opens her mouth in surprise.
Jim drops softly to the balcony, a smile of disarming
gentleness.
JIM
Hi...
GIRL
Wow! Hi...
(looking at the tree)
You have a problem with doors?
JIM
Waste of time...
His head cocked slightly onto his left shoulder, he drawls,
southern gentleman, polite, slow, thoughtful as if he had
all the time in the world, as if the guy would never come
back.
JIM
I followed you... from the beach...
GIRL
(impressed)
Wow! You followed me? Why?
JIM
...cause... you're the one...
He moves. Kisses her swiftly, softly, right on the lips.
GIRL
(mesmerized, awkward)
Wow... neat...
(looks back)
...maybe you should meet my old man?
JIM
Later. You got a name?
He looks into her face. Classic American face, freckles, big
round eyes soft as rain, long sunset red hair. She feels his
intense, starving eyes. He kisses her a second time.
The YOUNG MAN coming back with the rolling paper -- sees
him.
As he hops back on the railing -- swings out into the tree --
looks back once.
JIM
Mine's Jim.
A moment. She must decide. The YOUNG MAN within earshot.
GIRL
Pam...
The ice broken in that instant. Jim smiles.
JIM
Jim and Pam, Pam and Jim...
He vanishes. The Man abreast of Pamela, as if he's seen a
vision.
YOUNG MAN
Who the hell was that?
PAMELA
(everything's cool)
That's Jim. My new friend.
INT. UCLA SCREENING ROOM - DAY (1965)
On the screen a 16mm black and white student film of a
stunning BLOND in black bra, panties, garters dancing in
black heels on top of a TV set. panning down to images of
goose-stepping Nazis and a Nuremberg rally on the set. Sounds
of lovemaking and an Indian peyote ceremony from the track,
an Indian holy man incanting... Jim's VOICE comes on the
track as well.
JIM'S VOICE
Nietzche said "all great things must
first wear monstrous and terrifying
masks in order to inscribe themselves
on the hearts of humanity". Listen
children -- to the sound of the
Nuremberg night.
STUDENTS in the audience groan at the pretention of it. Moving
to JIM's eyes hidden in his parka hood, peeking through at
the screen.
A CLOSEUP now of JIM on screen looking straight into the
lens as he takes a hit on a hash pipe, and winks.
JIM VOICE
(on screen)
Have you ever seen God? -- a mandala.
A symmetrical angel. Felt? Yes.
Fucking the Sun. Heard? The music.
Voices. Touched? An animal. Your
hand Tasted? Rare meat, corn, water
and wine
STUDENTS
(ad lib)
SSSSssss... ego trip man, c'mon!
RAY MANZAREK, a tall student with powerful voice and manner,
thick glasses, long hair sweeping down over his eyes, leans
over to Jim.
RAY
Hey man it's great, don't listen to
em, it's non-linear man, it's poetry
man, everything Godard stands for.
The lights coming on as the last absurdist images flicker
off. Hissing and a big Bronx cheer summarize the feelings of
the 100 odd STUDENTS crammed into a bunker-like theater.
A youngish INSTRUCTOR stirs to the front row from a row of
upset FACULTY. Hands shooting up to criticize.
INSTRUCTOR
This is pretty shocking stuff Mr.
Morrison. And I might say indulgent.
Naziism and masturbation, when used
for shock value, are not art. But to
be constructive, let's start with
your intention. What was it?
STUDENT 1
It was a bore!! That's what!
(laughter)
TRICK, BONES and JACK, three friends sitting next to Jim,
shoot their hands up.
TRICK
Hey it was better'n a Warhol picture.
GIRL 1
No it wasn't. It was worse!
TRICK
A guy sleeping for seven hours...
STUDENT 2
...is less pretentious! There was no
political consciousness. Naziism
is...
JACK
Hey hold on man! You guys are the
facists!
BONES
It takes genitalism to absurdity
man, just cause the squares here
can't dig it cause the film school's
still so square...
VOICES
Oh c'mon man, give it a break. Boo!
Beatniks go home! Take another
mushroom...
A cacophony of voices, critics, emotions blend out over Jim's
quiet eyes.
INSTRUCTOR
HOLD IT DOWN!!... Mr. Morrison --
what are your feelings?
JIM
I quit.
(walks out)
EXT. TURKEY JOINT WEST - NIGHT
JIM, BONES, TRICK, JACK approaching the bar. MUSIC of "GLORIA"
blasting from the door, CHICKS popping in and out, definitely
college crowd circa '65.
TRICK
(to Jim)
Hey man whatdya expect, an Oscar?
BONES
You can't quit, you gotta voice.
People can't dig cause they don't
understand yet.
JACK
If you're an individual, if you're
too good, they wanna cut your dick
off. Look what happened to Orson
Wells.
TRICK
You quit now, they'll yank your
deferment in no time and they'll get
you for Vietnam man. Three more months
you graduate.
BONES
Be cool, you never learned fuckin
patience Morrison, you want everything
at once.
NICK
They didn't get it. So make your
films and fuck what they think.
JIM
You know what I think?
He slows, a dramatic young lion pose, surveying the girls.
BONES
Yeah whadday you think?
JIM
You really want to know what I think?
The cronies wait, anticipating something inescapably evil to
escape his lips.
BONES
Yeah yeah, whatddaya think?
JIM
I think we gotta get really ripped!
INT. TURKEY JOINT WEST - NIGHT
Tall bespectacled RAY MANZAREK is banging out GLORIA on the
piano in bad Jerry Lee Lewis style.
RAY
I tell you bout my baby 'bout five
foot four from head to toe She came
to my room Just 'bout midnight She
makes me feel so good She makes me
feel alright
Camera moving to reveal JOHN DENSMORE wiry, solid on the
drums... moving on to ROBBIE KRIEGER, wispy, ethereal looking,
the youngest, flamenco-type moves on his early electric
guitar. Also a HARMONICA PLAYER and a BASE. They all seem
slightly embarrassed by either the cheap sound system feedback
or Ray's warbling, but the crowd couldn't care less -- a
German beerhall, they want noise and sex.
JIM and his GANG, beers in hand, mouth back the words, beers
everywhere shoved to the smokey ceiling, everyone on their
feet, nuts with spring fever. Jim eyeing the GIRL next to
him.
JIM
You know what I'd like to do to you?
GIRL
(waiting, intrigued)
No what?
JIM
You really want to know what I'd
like to do to you?
GIRL
What!
The FOOTBALL TEAM TYPES edge over nearby, one of them picking
out Jim with a glare.
JIM
(whispering)
Wanna hear the scream of the
butterfly...
She looks puzzled by the suggestion.
FOOTBALL PLAYER
Hey Morrison!
JIM
(eluding the man)
Can we have a couple of beers. You're
not even an asshole man -- you're a
semihole.
He evades the football man's grasp, elusive physicality. He
hops over tables, heading for the stage. Other KIDS are up
on the stage dancing, but Jim goes right up alongside RAY,
shaking his hips like Elvis. Ray giving him the mike. Improv
time.
JIM
(singing)
She came to my room
She came on my floor
She came on my bed
She came on my face
Ooooooh I want to wrap your legs
around my head baby baby and her
name was Gloria
They love it. The place going wild. The girl with the football
player wanting him.
INT. RAY'S CAR - FREEWAY - NIGHT
JIM is insane on beers in the back seat, reaching over the
wheel to try to drive the car for RAY who is flailing at
him. Jim pulling Ray's hair...
JIM
(barely comprehensible)
HA HA HA HA HA! COME ON, LET'S DRIVE
TO MEXICO MAN. TIJUANA. LET'S GET
LOST!
Jammed into the sedan are TRICK, BONES, ROBBIE, JOHN...
RAY & ALL
COOL IT JIM, COME ON COOL IT.
JIM
FREEDOM!!! DON'T YOU KNOW YOU'RE ALL
SLAVES!
As he winds down the window and starts crawling out of the
car. Heavy traffic. Ray weaving to avoid another vehicle.
Honking horn.
JOHN
HE'S GOING OUT! HE'S GOING OUT!
TRICK
HE'S GONNA JUMP!
RAY
GET HIM BACK IN!
His waist is out the window, John and all grabbing for his
heels.
EXT. SPEEDING CAR - NIGHT
SPECIAL EFFECT: JIM's head six inches from pavement moving
at 60 mph through heavy traffic. Screaming, laughing like a
maniac. Beeping horns all over the place.
JIM
DEATH OLD FRIEND!!
In the car, madness, raging chaos, the four boys pulling him
in.
EXT./INT. PAMELA'S HOUSE - VENICE CANAL - THAT NIGHT
Night. Shadows. A tree. A figure moving.
JIM
(SONG)
Awake!
Shake dreams from your hair, my pretty child my sweet one
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
The day's divinity the first thing you see
Jim slides her upstairs' door open, crawls in next to her
bed. She's asleep with her boyfriend. He touches her toe.
She awakes, startled.
JIM
Come on, come out for a walk, it's a
pretty night.
PAM
You're crazy!
EXT. VENICE CANALS - NIGHT
JIM and PAMELA moving along the byways. A clear starry
California night.
JIM
(SONG)
A vast radiant beach
And a cool jewelled moon
Couples naked, race down by its quiet side
And we laugh like soft mad children
There's a crash. They turn bristling.
A COYOTE lurks under the sickly light of a streetlamp, pulling
its head from an overstuffed garbage can, looking back at
them.
EXT. VENICE BOARDWALK - NIGHT
Fires on the boardwalk. Hippies, Bums, Older People. JIM and
PAM move through talking, skipping, touching like children.
JIM
(SONG)
...smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy
The music and voices are all around us
Choose, they croon, the ancient ones
The time has come again
EXT. VENICE BEACH - NIGHT
The two of them race down by its side, slowing to a walk.
His [...] loved orphan voice.
JIM
Can I stay with you tonight? We could
talk 'till dawn. I just don't want
to be alone.
PAM
(hesitant)
Okay... just talk though. No funny
stuff.
JIM
Okay. I promise.
PAM
I've been real upset. I lost my car
on the freeway yesterday. I left it
somewhere and I can't remember where
and when I went back it was gone. My
sister...
JIM
I bet you never expected life could
be this hard.
(strokes her hair
affectionately)
And you're still so young.
She breaks into sobs, seeking his arms. He hugs her.
JIM
I wonder where we'll be ten years
from now?
PAM
I really don't want to know
JIM
Come on.
JIM
(SONG)
Choose now, they croon
Beneath the moon
Beside an ancient lake
Enter again the sweet forest
Enter the hot dream
Come with us
Everything is broken up and dances
EXT. VENICE BUILDING - NIGHT
Their silhouettes mount the fire escape of a jagged old
structure overlooking the boardwalk.
EXT. VENICE ROOFTOP - NIGHT
PAM glancing through Jim's notebooks as they sit on his
sleeping bag with a lantern and bunsen burner, overlooking
moon, ocean, scudding clouds and a vast forest of television
antennas. Fires burn from the beach.
In the notebooks, at intervals during the conversation, we
see powerful sketches colored in visionary hallucinogenic
William Blake mode with writing between. Books are everywhere --
panning Kerouac, Ginsberg, Nietzsche, Rimbaud, Mailer, Artaud,
mythological works, shamanistic books, a library of stolen
ideas.
PAM
(reading, looking)
These are like beautiful! I never
read much poetry in school. I hated
it. What's a "shaman"?
(mispronounces)
JIM
He's the medicine man who starts in
a peyote trance. And he gets everyone
in the tribe going and they share in
his vision and it heals them. It's
the same in all cultures -- Greeks,
Jesus. Some Indians say the first
shaman invented sex. He's the one
who makes you crazy.
PAM
Are you a "shaman"?
JIM
Uh
(pause)
no. I just write about it. What turns
you on?
PAM
I don't know. Experience. Freedom.
Love... Now. Peyote's like love.
When it's given it's blessed. When
it's sold it's damned. I like peyote.
I like acid, it's easier to get. I
like the spiritual voyage. The first
time I did acid I saw God. I did. I
had a friend who was Christ. And he
was Judas too. I suddenly knew the
secret of everything -- that we're
all one, the universe is one. And
that everything is beautiful.
JIM
Is it? I don't know. I think you're
alive by confronting death -- by
experiencing pain.
PAM
I think you're alive by recognizing
beauty -- seeing truth because when
you discover truth you discover what
love is... we're all saying the same
thing. It's "love me and I'll love
you."
JIM
(looks at her, ironic)
It's only thru death that you know
life. Jesus, medicine men heal people
by sacrificing their own life.
PAM
Do you love Death?
JIM
I think life hurts a lot more than
death. When you die the pain is over.
Pam shivers, a strange thought.
PAM
Why do I look at you... and see my
death?
(pause, shrugs)
No, that's ridiculous.
JIM
I bet your dad's a school teacher.
PAM
How did you know!
JIM
I don't know.
PAM
What was your father?
JIM
Military
PAM
I bet you moved around a lot.
JIM
Yeah, about 8 times.
PAM
How many sisters and brothers?
JIM
Two.
PAM
One... she's the pretty one... I
love your neck.
(she gets in his lap)
He runs his fingers thru her hair, kissing her gently.
JIM
"...but one, the most beautiful one
of all dances in a ring of fire and
throws off the challenge with a shrug"
PAM
That's beautiful. Who did you write
it for?
JIM
I wrote it for you.
The panties coming off. Rousseau dangling from the Venice
moon. He moves a little over excited, nervous, more awkward
than we might expect.
PAM
...take your time, Jim... there's no
hurry, I'm all you have to do
tonight...
DOORS SONG
Well the clock says it's time to close now
I guess I'd better go now...
As we depart the rooftop.
Your fingers weak with minarets
Speaking secret alphabets
I light another cigarette
Learn to forget, learn to forget, learn to forget
DISSOLVE TO:
Possibly we hear the soft backbeat of MOONLIGHT DRIVE without
lyrics.
RAY MANZAREK is meditating in yoga posture, longer hair as
well, in his post-graduate phase, sandals, colorful hippie
shirt. But the meditation is not going well. He's shaking
his head at himself, frowning.
RAY
Om om... No bliss! No bliss!
Jim has approached closer, amused, looking down.
JIM
Hey Ray, try acid man, it's
guaranteed.
Ray opening his eyes -- his POV -- Jim, slouched, jacket
over his shoulder, sun behind him.
RAY
(surprised)
Morrison... Aw shit. Last trip I
thought I was going through hell's
digestive system. Something painted
by Hieronymus Bosch.
JIM
I never had a bummer on acid.
RAY
I like naturally high man.
JIM
Whatever works. Making movies at MGM
yet?
RAY
Well I saw the head of production
and I said Godard doesn't use scripts,
he improvises with his camera and he
said, "great who's Godard?"
JIM
(laughs)
We gotta take the planet back,
reinvent the Gods, make new myths.
RAY
Right on. I thought you went to New
York?
JIM
Never got there. Went out to the
desert and uh... got lost y'know.
Days. I been living on Trick's
rooftop. Got stuck on this chick...
RAY
Whatcha been doing?
JIM
Writing. Poems. Songs.
RAY
Songs? Lemme hear one.
JIM
I can't sing.
RAY
So neither can Dylan. "Johnny's in
the basement mixing up the medicine,
I'm on the pavement thinking about
the government". But he's got the
words man. That's what they want.
JIM
(suddenly sings)
Let's swim to the moon un hunh
Let's climb thru the tide
Penetrate the evening
That the city sleeps to hide
Jim has crouched, digging his hand in the sand. As the grains
spill out of his fist he has his eyes closed.
Ray pantomimes chords in the keyboard sand. All of a sudden
we're in RAY'S POV -- a mystical moment. Jim singing, no
sound, then pure song, unadulterated by atmosphere.
JIM
Let's swim out tonight love
It's our turn to try
Parked beside the ocean
On our moonlight drive
Jim stops, shrugs. Ray looks at him a long beat. Intense
eyes, the manner of a man who knows what he wants and cannot
be stopped.
RAY
Wow!... Y'know man those are hot
lyrics -- really hot!
JIM
(pleased)
...could you write the music for
that down, if we went over to your
place, could you write that on your
organ?
RAY
Are you kidding! I could fly. You
wrote that? You got others?
JIM
A bunch. It's like I'm taking notes
at a rock concert going on inside my
head. I actually hear the music --
the spirit of the wine y'know,
intoxication.
RAY
(slaps him on the
knee)
Man. You got a voice like Chet Baker --
haunted! What the hell happened to
you in the desert? Let's get a rock
and roll band together man and make
a million bucks.
JIM
...be great wouldn't it?
RAY
(walking JIM)
It's the perfect time man! Two of
the guys outta my band are really
into this. I meditate with them. You
know them... Robbie and John. We
could have it in the can in three
weeks.
JIM
Hey why not, I could write the songs
with you guys.
RAY
The Stones did it outta the London
School of Economics for Chrissake.
Things are about to explode man. You
can feel it in the air.
(points out over the
ocean)
Vietnam's right out there. Sides are
being chosen. People wanna fight or
fuck, love or kill, everything's
gonna flame. The planet's screaming
for change, Morrison. Make the myths
man!!
Jim laughs, loves Ray's ardor as they move along the ocean
side.
JIM
There oughta be great orgies man.
Like when Dionysus arrived in Greece,
he made all the women mad, leaving
their homes and dancing off in the
mountains. Great golden copulations
in the streets of LA.
(looks at a passing
girl)
Hey, do you know her?
RAY
What do we call ourselves. "Dionysus"?
JIM
I got a name.
RAY
What?
JIM
The Doors.
RAY
The Doors?
(facial distaste)
That's the most ridiculous...
(then)
...you mean The Doors in your mind?
Like the Huxley book.
JIM
"The Doors of Perception"? Acid...
RAY
Yeah sure mescaline experiments --
reducing the sugar flow to the brain.
Great book.
JIM
It's from William Blake actually,
the line -- "when The Doors of
perception are cleansed -- things
will appear as they truly are..."
RAY
(finishes)
-- infinite". It's great, Jim.
JIM
So where do we start? How do we start?
Where are the girls?
RAY
Rehearsing. You're moving off the
rooftop and in with me and Dorothy.
As they walk off, the two of them along the edge of the
Pacific. A dog jumping for a frisbee. The music of MOONLIGHT
DRIVE now riffs over the real song now.
DOORS SONG
Let's swim to the moon
Let's climb thru the tide
Penetrate the evening
That the city sleeps to hide...
DISSOLVING TO:
INT. RAY'S HOUSE - VENICE BEACH - DAY
The first heavy strains of BREAK ON THROUGH driving over the
DISSOLVE. It sounds bad technically, but it's hot. Random
raw screams and shouting. PAM is crosslegged on the floor,
clapping to the music, number one fan.
JIM & DOORS
(live)
The day destroys the night
Night divides the day
Tried to run
Tried to hide
Break on thru to the other side
JIM straining to make it work, jumping around violent, still
not in control. Yet searching. JOHN cutting out.
JOHN
That's really square. Let's hip it
up. Jump on your cues.
RAY
Tighten it up. Stay with the beat
Jim. You're dragging.
JIM
Let's try it again, come on. I'm
just getting into it.
PAM
(on floor)
I think it's hot!!
ROBBIE
(strumming)
I still think the lyrics are weird
man.
JOHN
(frustrated)
I still think it sounds like the
bottom of a fishbowl man.
JIM
(to Robbie, aggravated)
Then you write one man! We need more
songs anyway. We all gotta go back
and write.
They're drained, tired, in a large rehersal/living room 30
feet high, fronted by large glass windows looking out at the
beach at Marina. The room is filled with golden, gorgeous
setting sunlight.
PAMELA goes to the kitchen with DOROTHY, Ray's Japanese
fiancee.
ROBBIE
I been working on something goes
like this... A minor.
(chords his guitar)
"You know that it would be untrue
You know that I would be a liar
If I was to say to you
Girl, we couldn't get much higher"
F sharp... chorus
"Come on baby, light my fire
Try to set the night on fire..."
Robbie's voice is tinny but something immediate's in the
air, all the radar out.
RAY
Okay man there's some good changes
in there.
JIM
Got any more lyrics?
ROBBIE
(gives Jim a page of
lyrics)
Some. I call it "Light My Fire". I
figger if I'm gonna compete with
your stuff it's gotta be about earth,
fire or snakes.
JIM
Don't underestimate Death.
JOHN
Yeah but it sounds like the Byrds
man, we're not folk rock man. How
'bout trying it with a Latin beat.
ROBBIE
I thought we could do the usual verse
chorus verse chorus and
JOHN
We don't need a bridge.
ROBBIE
Yeah, we could maybe improvise a
couple piano and guitar solos over
it
(kicks in second verse)
"The time to hesitate is through"
(doesn't have the
second line)
Du du duh dud dada . . .
JIM
(spontaneous)
"No time to wallow in the mire
Try now we can only lose
And our love become a funeral pyre
Come on baby light my fire"
John drumming it, different, more Latin.
JIM
Pretty good! Pretty neat!!
RAY
(to John)
Nice groove, John. Chaka chaka chaka,
then bula burump bula
(to Robbie)
...you're right, it could take a
coupla long solos, that's wild man,
like Butterfield did on "East-West" --
really hip.
ROBBIE
Y'ever heard Coltrane's "Favorite
Things"?
JOHN
(hitting the drums)
Yeah -- maybe stretch it out and put
it in 4/4 on bass, 3/4 on guitar and
snare.
RAY
(clicking, excited)
Why not! A minor to B minor. Jazz!
That then is jazz! But it needs a
hook. Something. Give me some space.
I need some space. Leave the room
guys. Come on! Go!
The three excluded Doors head out to the beach like obedient
schoolboys while Ray fools with his organ.
EXT. VENICE BEACH - DAY
As they go out, JIM hugging ROBBIE's head to his shoulder as
they feel the excitement of a new song.
JOHN
(irritated at Ray)
Guy's obnoxious, man always bossin'
people around! I thought we were
equals!
JIM
Aren't we?
(to Robbie)
That was great Robbie. Whaddaya
thinking about when you play?
ROBBIE
Don't know. Mostly the fish in my
fish tank.
JIM
(laughs)
Hey whadya say we take some of that
Tijuana acid and see what kinda
trouble we can get into tonight?
ROBBIE
The chicks always go for you man. I
get the dogs.
JIM
Then we'll start a religion or plan
a murder or go to Tijuana.
JOHN
Whatsamatter with you man, what about
Pam, you got the morals of a coyote.
JIM
Why you wanna sleep with her John,
just to bug me?
JOHN
Hell NO!
JIM
...means "hell yes". She likes you
man, she really does and y'all should.
What's a rock and roll band for man,
if you can't party all night and do
bad things?
RAY
(yelling from the
house)
I GOT IT I GOT IT... GET IN HERE.
HURRY.
JOHN
Sieg Heil!
As they head back.
INT. RAY'S HOUSE - DAY
TIGHT on RAY like a schoolmaster cueing them.
RAY
Okay here it is. Bach and Rock. Count
it off John
JOHN
(clicking)
1... 2... 1 - 2 - 3
(crack)
It goes. The famous organ intro to LIGHT MY FIRE blends over
the room like magic, carrying JIM, ROBBIE, JOHN, DOROTHY,
PAMELA along over:
EXT. SUNSET STRIP (TRAVELLING) - NIGHT (1966)
A row of NIGHTCLUBS glisten off the hoods of passing traffic.
Marquees announce: THE BYRDS, RED ROOSTER, LOVE, THE HERD,
TURTLES, CAPTAIN BEEFHEART. The CLUBS are PANDORA'S BOX, THE
TRIP, CIRO'S, BIDO LITO'S, GAZZARRI'S, THE EXPERIENCE... .
Headlights and neon intercut with:
DOCUMENTARY TYPE SHOTS of TEENAGERS, HIPPIES, LONGHAIRS,
running summer rampant, banging tambourines. COPS busting
kids against cars on the street as PARENTS go by rolling up
their windows. The action was on the street. LIGHT MY FIRE
carries over the montage.
DOORS SONG
You know that it would be untrue etc.
JIM VOICE
(last session)
The music was new black polished
chrome and came over the summer like
liquid night.
EXT. LONDON FOG - NIGHT
"The Doors -- BAND FROM VENICE" on the marquee... moving
down to a motley crew of TEENAGE GIRLS, underage, trying to
get past the BOUNCER. The sounds of BREAK ON THROUGH carry
past when The Doors open and close admitting a SAILOR.
GIRL GROUPIE
(approaching, to 2nd
girl)
Is that horny motherfucker in the
black pants here tonight?
BOUNCER
IDs! IDs! Can't get in without an
I.D..
GIRL 2
Oh please. I forgot my I.D.. I'm on
the list.
BOUNCER
I forgot my list.
INT. LONDON FOG - NIGHT
BREAK ON THROUGH blasting out at us from a sleazehole --
half full -- BIKERS, SAILORS, HOOKERS, a baseball game on
the TV. A dance floor the size of a bed, The Doors on a tiny
platform above the bar, London newspapers on the wall.
JIM & DOORS
(live)
We chased our pleasures here
Dug our treasures there
Can you still recall the time we
cried
BREAK on through to the other side
(3)
Some groupies have formed a small fan club at the base of
the stage, muscling past PAM, but most people ignore them,
drinking, arguing, dancing to their own fuckbeats. Possibly
this has something to do with the fact that JIM sings with
his back to all of them.
JOHN looking over furious at RAY who mutters under the music.
RAY
Turn around Jim! Come on let 'em in.
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