Super 8

Written by

J.J. Abrams

OVER BLACK WE HEAR THE DULL SOUNDS OF INDUSTRY; A MUFFLED MASS OF MACHINES, GEARS, STEAM. FADE IN ON:

A SIGN. Twelve feet across. Painted decades earlier, grim- covered black, white and red. It reads in large 40's era, hand-painted type, "SAFETY IS OUR PRIMARY CONCERN!" Then: "DAYS SINCE LAST ACCIDENT" and below that, NUMBERS, painted on hanging metal cards. Four possible digits can hang here, but there are currently three: "784."

SLOWLY PUSH IN on this sign as a MAN APPEARS, rising on a forklift, in a greasy, monochromatic work jumpsuit. Removes the "4" from its hooks. Then removes the "8." Then the "7."

Finally, he hangs up a number. "1."

The man LOWERS out of frame as we creep even closer to the hanging single digit, wondering about the accident... and how bad it was and the FACTORY SOUNDS GROW DEAFENING -- AND AS IT BUILDS TO A CRESCENDO, WE CUT TO SILENT BLACKNESS.

EXT. JOE'S HOUSE - PORCH - DAY

Shiny black loafers. Black pants, three inches too long. We BOOM UP, stopping at a boy's hand reaching into the black suit jacket pocket. Pulls out a WOMAN'S GOLD NECKLACE with a LOCKET. He holds the locket. Rubs it gently with his thumb. CONTINUE TO BOOM UP. We now SEE THE BOY'S FACE.

This is JOE LAMB, 14. On the precarious edge of adulthood. He looks out at the horizon with stricken eyes.

He moves forward and we PAN, so we're BEHIND HIM NOW. In the frosty distance, past countless leafless trees and modest homes, is a STEEL MILL. Smokestacks and structures. The lifeblood of this late 70's town.

INT. LAMB LIVING ROOM - DAY

Close on CHARLES' MOTHER AND FATHER, funeral attire. She looks out of the window sadly; heartsick and concerned. Behind her, he picks at his plate of food.

But his wife isn't so sure.

Then, BOYS' HUSHED VOICES:

INT. LAMB DINING ROOM - DAY

CHARLES (we'll see him in a moment) LEANS FORWARD, reaching for food on a buffet table. Charles' leaning has revealed CARY, a blonde kid in a dark blue sport jacket and tie, and PRESTON, pale and smart, in a DARK SWEATER:

We now see CHARLES, big and in an ill-fitting BLACK SUIT, and MARTIN, good looking, in a shirt and tie, at the buffet:

CUT WIDE TO REVEAL that we are in a modest Ohio house in the year 1979. At a wake. Forty-odd friends and neighbors, darkly dressed. Quiet discussions. Some crying.

They look up -- in the other room, a dog (mutt, Lucy) has jumped on a guest, for food. JACKSON LAMB, Joe's father, 42, black suit, moves to the dog, walks her out of shot.

EXT. JOE'S HOUSE - DAY - MOMENTS LATER

A WIDE SHOT. A grey, snow-covered, early February day here in LILLIAN, OHIO. Many cars are parked outside the house, notably a SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT SQUAD CAR in the driveway. Joe, a vision of black on white in his too-big black suit, now sits on a small swing set he hasn't used in years.

He solemnly looks down at the LOCKET he still holds. No doubt trying to reconcile the fact that it no longer hangs around his mother's neck. Then a SOUND. Joe looks up. A CAR has arrived -- a distinct 1968 BUICK GSX -- a YELLOW MUSCLE CAR with a BLACK RACING STRIPE down its center. Joe watches as the car sits there for a moment. Then a MAN gets out. Someone Joe has seen before, but doesn't know personally. A man in his early 40's, in jeans and a work shirt. He's not exactly sloppy, but if you look closely, you could tell he's been drinking. This is LOUIS DAINARD.

Joe watches Louis carefully as he moves to the house, to the porch and inside the house. Joe's eyes glued on the house for a while. Then he looks back to the locket. He OPENS IT, and stares at the picture inside (which we do not see). And as he stares, TEARS come to his eyes.

A moment broken by the SOUND OF RAISED VOICES -- Joe turns toward the house. After a beat, the SOUND of something BREAKING -- something glass. Then the house BACK DOOR bursts open -- Joe cranes his neck -- and what he sees he'll never forget: his father, Jack, leading an in-pain and HAND-CUFFED Louis Dainard from the house and into the rear of the squad car. When he slams the back door, he sees Joe. Sort of freezes as their eyes lock. But Jack's more uncomfortable THAN COMFORTING:

And Jack gets into the car and drives away. Joe watches them drive off. And after a beat, he looks down at the locket again. Mom's just gone. Finally he CLOSES IT -- and we hear an oddly LOUD SNAP and our SCREEN GOES BLACK.

Over darkness: APPLAUSE -- then a LONE VOICE: "I want you... to want me!" DRUMS kick in, CHEAP TRICK BLASTS. CUT TO: 5.

EXT. MIDDLE SCHOOL - DAY

Hundreds of KIDS eagerly leave their last day of school for the year, winter a memory. GIRLS emphatically embrace each other good-bye. BOYS run off, just happy to be out. Lots of "Have a great summer!"

DOLLY WITH Joe, who walks through the crowd alone, backpack on shoulder.

Suddenly Charles is there, red-faced -- he hands Joe PAGES:

They head across the street to the 7-Eleven. Suddenly Cary is there, a BURN WRAP on his right arm now:

Joe stops. His friends don't. PUSH IN ON HIM --

EXT. 7-ELEVEN - DAY

As they head to the doors:

INT. 7-ELEVEN - DAY - CONTINUOUS

Joe, Charles and Cary scan the candy aisle.

Charles swipes the pages from critic Cary.

INT. BUILDING 47 - DAY (SUPER 8)

DARKNESS. Then a DOOR OPENS. It's DETECTIVE HATHAWAY (played by MARTIN), in silhouette. He enters. It's an old WAREHOUSE, dirty, cobwebbed, crowded with CRATES, old MACHINERY, CHEMICAL BARRELS and JUNK. The Detective turns on his FLASHLIGHT -- aims it -- sweeps it across the space -- the light HITTING THE LENS for a moment.

The Detective walks through the spooky, dark space. A low, growling industrial DRONE makes the whole place oddly creepy. Then: A SOUND -- quick but strange -- slithering -- and the Detective aims his flashlight -- tense. He watches. Waits. We see where he's aiming the light, which cuts through THICK DUST in the air. It's an old office door, ajar.

Hathaway is still. Nervous. Watching the door -- waiting for it to open... and then -- from the darkness BEHIND HIM -- a terrifying open-mouthed ZOMBIE APPEARS -- ATTACKS -- and the Detective TURNS -- his flashlight KNOCKED TO THE GROUND -- and Hathaway falls too -- the wild-eyed gaping-mouthed Zombie DROOLING as it tries to bite Hathaway's flesh -- we recognize that the Zombie is CARY. Actually, not a bad performance. The Detective pulls out his GUN -- but the Zombie grabs his wrist -- they wrestle with the gun -- the Zombie wanting to rip into Hathaway's neck -- but Hathaway sees three SHARP-TIPPED NAILS sticking out of an old piece of WOODEN CRATE -- and after a significant struggle, Hathaway PUSHES THE ZOMBIE BACK so his head is IMPALED BY THE NAILS -- which we see ENTER HIS SKULL!!! The Zombie (stuck to the crate via the nails) SCREAMS AND DIES and just at Hathaway catches his breath THE IMAGE DIMS AND FREEZES; the projector has just been STOPPED. We are in:

INT. CHARLES' ROOM - DAY

Board games, books, records, a stereo, toys, and magic. Super 8 film equipment and paraphernalia. Movie ONE SHEETS hang: CARRIE, HALLOWEEN, EARTHQUAKE and NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD. No sports memorabilia. Charles turns on the lights, looks anxiously at Joe:

As he tosses Joe a SUPER 8 FILMMAKER MAGAZINE:

Joe just nods and looks at the magazine.

INT. CHARLES' KITCHEN - DUSK

A hectic FAMILY: Charles' mother cooks. JEN, his smoking hot 17-year-old sister, ANGRILY sets the table where his father pays bills. Pale 15-year-old sister PEG does a PUZZLE. Twin 9- YEAR-OLD BOYS bicker over an action figure. TV in the living room plays a MATCH GAME. Joe and Charles enter.

Disgusted, Jen LOUDLY sets Charles' place as --

Charles grabs a roll.

Joe leaves; Charles' parents share a look of pity for Joe.

EXT. CHARLES' HOUSE - DUSK

An anomalous moment in this small steel town: the sun sets through the distant trees and it's beautiful, despite the distant belching SMOKESTACKS. Joe leaves Charles' house and CROSSES THE STREET to his own. SQUAD CAR in the driveway.

INT. JOE'S HOUSE - DUSK

Joe comes into the kitchen through the BACK DOOR. Lucy the dog greets him. A TV is head somewhere. NIGHTLY NEWS reports on the ONGOING CLEAN-UP OF THREE MILE ISLAND. A half-empty BEER BOTTLE on the table. Joe peeks into the living room -- but no one's there.

Joe looks around for his father. Heads down the hallway. Stops when he sees something off camera. We HOLD on Joe's face, sort of quietly stunned. 12.

And we se his POV: Jack, Joe's father, in uniform pants and T- shirt, sits on the edge of the bathtub, head in his hands, quietly CRYING.

Joe is stunned, staring at his dad. But he can't look away. And when he finally starts to head off, Jack looks up. Joe's mind scrambles for something to say, but Jack sniffles, gets it together, quick. Puts on a strong face.

Joe nods as Jack forces a smile and closes the bathroom door. HOLD ON JOE. Stunned and heartsick.

INT. CAROL'S DINER - NIGHT

Commodores quietly sing "EASY" on the PA. Joe and his father, in civvies, sit beside each other at the counter. Jack eats a beef stew and reviews office paperwork, not looking at his son. Joe eats a grilled cheese, deeply lonely and not even knowing it.

Jack pulls out a PAMPHLET, and places it on the table:

Joe looks at the pamphlet for HEWITT SPORTS CAMP. Images of happy, smiling, healthy ATHLETIC KIDS. Not his thing.

Joe looks back at the pamphlet -- his other hand coming up from under the table -- and Jack sees that Joe is HOLDING HIS MOTHER'S LOCKET. Jack wants to cry again. He wants to throw that locket away, out of sight. But he just turns away.

Joe stares at the pamphlet. PUSH IN on the photo of beaming 15-year-old KIDS. Then CUT TO THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME:

INT. JOE'S ROOM - NIGHT

TIGHT ON QUASIMODO; a plastic, painted AURORA model. RACK FOCUS to the paintbrush that comes into frame -- FOLLOW IT TO JOE, holding the brush, at his desk, making a model. A boy's room recently devoid of a mother's oversight; a mess. COMIC BOOKS and other PLASTIC MODELS, all built and painted by Joe. CARS and CREATURES and a TRAIN. His bedside CLOCK RADIO (11:56 PM) quietly plays "BAKER STREET." Then a RADIO SQUAWK - - Joe grabs a KID'S WALKIE-TALKIE: