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Being the true storie of one Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman
Kevin Yagher and Andrew Kevin Walker
Based on "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" by Washington
Irving
Screenplay by Andrew Kevin Walker
A pleasing land of drowsy head it was, of dreams that wave before
the half shut eye...
EXT. GNARLED FOREST--NIGHT
An UGLY MAN charges through on a horse, holding a lantern forward
on a long pole. He looks back, terrified
INSERT TITLE: 1799 Sleepy Hollow, New York
THUNDEROUS HOOFBEATS are HEARD behind.
The ugly man glances back again. His lantern swings wild...
SHATTERS against a tree. The jammed-up pole SLAMS the ugly man
off his horse...
He hits the ground. He runs, trips, falls and scrambles up.
DEEP IN THE FOREST, we glimpse the source of the HOOFBEATS: a HUGE
FORM on a HUGE BLACK HORSE, already gone
The ugly man pushes through thorny bushes. Jagged branches slit
his hands and cheeks.
He bursts from the briar patch and tumbles to a trail . He lifts
his bloodied face. He runs.
IN THE FOREST BEHIND: the hooves of the black horse rip underbrush.
HOOFBEATS DEAFENING. A spur digs into the snorting steed's already
bleeding flank.
The pursuer's gloved hand draws a SWORD, blade RINGING.
ON THE TRAIL, the ugly man runs on. The shrill WHISTLE of a SWORD
SWING is HEARD as the pursuer blurs past.
The ugly man is still running when his head lolls back, at an impossible
angle...tumbles off his shoulders... His headless body hits the
dirt.
EXT. CITY STREETS-- NIGHT
Empty cobblestone streets. Crooked buildings. A RAPIDLY CLANGING
BELL breaks the silence from afar.
INSERT TITLE: New York City
TWO CONSTABLES clamor round a corner, lanterns held high, listening.
They rush into an alleyway.
ELSEWHERE, piers border the Hudson River. The BELL is LOUDER. The
two constables arrive, searching. No one around. Constable One hefts
his pistol, scared.
CONSTABLE ONE
Where are you?!
MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
Here! Over here!
They hurry to the river's edge. Down a hill, the MAN, another constable,
stands with his back to us. He's waist deep in water, tossing away
his ALARM BELL.
MAN
I need your help with this.
Constable Two crosses on the pier above. Constable One moves forward,
wary. The MAN grunts, lifting something.
CONSTABLE ONE
Constable Crane? Ichabod Crane...is that you?
The MAN turns. Meet ICHABOD CRANE, handsome, eyes piercing.
ICHABOD
Yes, it is me. But, not only me... (lifting, struggling)
I found someone here...
He drags a bloated MALE CORPSE up from the murky water
ICHABOD
Someone quite dead.
EXT. WATCHHOUSE/JAIL --NIGHT
The elderly HIGH CONSTABLE lifts a blanket off the corpse on a
wheelbarrow manned by Constable Two. A snobby MAGISTRATE looks,
disgusted. Constable One and Ichabod wait.
HIGH CONSTABLE
Burn it.
CONSTABLE ONE
Yes, sir.
Constable Two wheels the corpse inside. Ichabod's dismayed
ICHABOD
Just a moment...if I may. It is possible this man was murdered.
HIGH CONSTABLE
He drowned. Anyone could see.
ICHABOD
There are surgical ways of telling how he died... by the water in
his lungs...
Ichabod follows the High Constable and Magistrate in.
INT. WATCHHOUSE, NIGHT WATCH QUARTERS --NIGHT
Constable Two wheels the body ahead past many "booking"
tables. A JAILER moves to unlock a massive door.
HIGH CONSTABLE
He will be burned pursuant to statutes of health.
ICHABOD
I could determine if he were dead before he went into the Hudson
HIGH CONSTABLE
Must we again hear these heretical rantings?
MAGISTRATE
Yes, must we?
ICHABOD
There is nothing heretical about science, sir. The Chinese have
written on it for hundreds of years...procedural study used to solve
seemingly unsolvable crimes.
The door is opened. The corpse again leads the way.
INT. WATCHHOUSE, JAIL --NIGHT
A two-tiered prison, alive with MOANS of AGONY and CRIES of INSANITY.
Cells are full of wretched men in chains and iron gags. Many are
against the bars, watching.
ICHABOD
Our first night watch is adequate against fire and some violence,
but if we were more often able to ensure justice, after the fact,
then criminals would truly have something to fear from law enforcement.
HIGH CONSTABLE
Have they nothing to fear presently?
ICHABOD
Without disrespect, look around you.
(motioning to cells)
We overflow. As do our courts.
HIGH CONSTABLE
And, with disrespect, Constable, if jails and courts overflow, it
is testimony to success, not failure.
ICHABOD
But, how many innocents rot here? And, how many victims are buried
without reprisal while guilty men roam our streets?
The High Constable reaches a desk, taking a seat. Guards wait to
process beaten, bloody prisoners.
HIGH CONSTABLE
Very few, if any.
ICHABOD
Even though I have seen confessions pried from the lips of the accused,
often quite literally?
HIGH CONSTABLE
For one who calls himself a Federalist, your mouth reeks of Republican
liberalism.
ICHABOD
Not Liberalism. Equanimity.
MAGISTRATE (to High Constable)
Um, sir...might I suggest...
The Magistrate WHISPERS in the High Constable's ear. Ichabod notices
with worry that Constables One and Two wheel the corpse onwards
into another room.
The Magistrate finishes. The High Constable smiles faintly
HIGH CONSTABLE (to Ichabod)
There is a farming community upstate, Constable... two days journey
north in the Hudson Highlands. It is named Sleepy Hollow. Within
a fortnight, three persons have been murdered there. Each with their
head lopped cleanly off.
(holds up papers)
The elders of the Hollow have sent dispatches to me, requesting
assistance, and now, just this very moment, I have chosen you.
ICHABOD
Chosen me?
HIGH CONSTABLE
These "methods" of yours...there has been no practical
application.
ICHABOD
Not for lack of trying.
BURGOMASTER
Just so. Granted. And so you take your experimentations to Sleepy
Hollow and catch the murderer who has tainted the place. Bring him
here to face our good justice. Will you do this for me?
ICHABOD (swallowing doubt)
I shall, gladly
HIGH CONSTABLE
Excellent. Then, you are excused till morning
Ichabod moves away, heading to where the corpse was taken.
HIGH CONSTABLE
Oh, and, Constable...(off Ichabod's look) Do make certain that you
meet with success. Otherwise... perhaps you should not come back
at all.
The High Constable smiles a sardonic smile
INT. WATCHHOUSE, INCINERATION ROOM --NIGHT
The corpse burns in a raging furnace. Flesh sizzles
Constable One pumps bellows, which fan the flames. Ichabod steps
from darkness nearby. He watches with bitter regret as the corpse
is consumed.
EXT. CITY --DAY
Market town streets bustle. Filthy. Pigs roam free.
INT. ICHABOD'S HOME, SECOND FLOOR --DAY
Decorated in Early-American Mad Scientist: books, papers and jars
of chemicals. Charts of anatomy above a small bed.
ICHABOD (O.S.)
Such a day for such a sad farewell. But, this is goodbye, my sweet.
At the window, Ichabod holds a bird cage with a red CARDINAL inside.
He opens the cage. The bird flies free.
Ichabod watches it go, then looks down. A COACH halts in the street
below. The forlorn DRIVER looks up.
INT. ICHABOD'S COACH --DAY
In motion. Ichabod absently studies his hands, touching the strange
SCARS on both palms: evenly dispersed, tiny dots of tissue. Many
scars.
Ichabod lifts a LEATHER SATCHEL, checking its contents
EXT. UPSTATE FORESTS --DAY
TWO FAMILIES of MIGRANT WORKERS travel a path, leading over-burdened
horses. Ichabod's coach approaches from the other direction. Ichabod
looks out, unnerved.
One GAUNT MAN watches Ichabod pass. There is a dead, worried look
in the man's eyes. Others stare at Ichabod.
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW, THE LONG STRAIGHT ROAD --DAY
Ichabod faces two massive, vine-covered PILLARS, unsure. He turns
to watch the driver lead the coach away.
Ichabod walks between the pillars to a long straight road. He does
not notice, above: THREE DEAD RAVENS hang from a tree limb, twine
wrapped round their necks.
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW, TOWN SQUARE --DAY
Ichabod walks on with baggage. The square is empty, a CHURCH and
GRAVEYARD at one end. The road ahead is bordered by businesses and
homes.
CONVERSATION DRIFTS from a tavern. A criminal sits in stocks. A
quiet CRYING is HEARD. Ichabod hears...
He looks for its source. It's from a window eave, LOUDER. SOUNDS
like the SOBBING of an OLD WOMAN.
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