Panopticon by Brefni O'rourke Script

PANOPTICON by Brefni O'Rourke

ON VIDEO SCREENS Cold grey pixels slowly construct images of varying resolution... from AIRPORTS, TRAIN STATIONS, CONVENIENCE STORES, and CITY STREETS around what looks like a big city, say London.

COMMUTERS Move to and fro within a tube station, under the ever present gaze of SECURITY CAMERAS. A TRAIN zooms through a tunnel, THAMES PATH on the side.

EXT. PIEDRAS NEGRA, MEXICO - DAY Hot day in the bustling border town, surrounded by acres of pecan orchards. On a parked harvester machine, a RADIO blares: RADIO ANNOUNCER(V.O.) The controversial Virtual Border Initiative continues to draw heavy criticism even as government contractors are lining up...

MIGRANT WORKERS Droves of them, make their way across the two large suspension bridges under the watchful eyes of several banks of more high tech CCTV CAMERAS. RADIO ANNOUNCER(V.O.) The Homeland Security Department announced that Pioneer Industries has won a no bid contract and work has already begun on the first series of 98 foot tall towers, all to be fitted with high powered cameras at some point... Across the vast expanse of the Rio Grande lies

EAGLE PASS The adjacent American town. A sign: “Where Yee-Ha meets Ole.” A construction crew on scaffolding work on one of the partially erected TOWERS. 2.

PROJECT 45 - PIONEER INDUSTRIES - KEEP OUT, reads a sign posted by a ditch where dump trucks dig out a wide trench and NATIONAL GUARD TROOPS and ENGINEERS toil. RADIO ANNOUNCER Even as local ranchers and tribal leaders have moved to veto such legislation at the grass roots.

PROTESTERS mostly Latino and Native American, march along a chain link fence with pro-immigration signs like “VIRTUAL BORDER IS VIRTUAL INSANITY”, shouting and stomping their feet. MAN’S VOICE(V.O.) Let’s face it, a physical barrier is just not practical...

INT. TOWN HALL - NIGHT RUDY GARZA, Native American man in a suit with bolo tie, 57, bangs a gavel as several people argue, talking at once. One woman forces her way to the front, speaking above the din. SINGLE MOTHER This tower will oversee our town. It makes you feel like you are being watched 24 hours a day. They can see inside your homes. MORE ARGUING before a crotchety ELDERLY MAN stands up. ELDERLY MAN Nobody is watching now! To date, all the Border Patrol can do is run random watches and patrols. Towers with modern tracking equipment bring constant monitoring to the border. Quit worrying about the view and start thinking national security. APPLAUSE and then the peanut gallery chimes in-- CYNICAL MAN Smugglers look at those things and wonder how many bullets they'll need to take the equipment out. EARNEST MAN Can someone explain to me how these towers will know if they are detecting illegal migrants or legal citizens? 3.

INT. BORDER PATROL STATION - EAGLE PASS, TEXAS - DAY A VIDEO SCREEN shows the comings and goings on the bridges. MORE SCREENS - show the journey of a tall and lanky man in a Sheriff’s uniform through the facility from different angles. As he arrives at the check out desk, he flashes an ID badge to a DESK CLERK and gazes out at the banks of the river. He is KEVIN “DOC” DOCKERY, 47, blonde hair, mustache. Wide aviator sunglasses shield his eyes from a blazing sun and capture a reflection of

THE PARKING LOT Where his Deputy MEL RUIZ, 35, forces a portly Hispanic BORDER AGENT from out of the backseat of his jeep. Ruiz begins marching the handcuffed AGENT forward as the DESK CLERK peeks up from his magazine article curiously. DESK CLERK Feeling sluggish? Dockery stares ahead dispassionately. The Desk Clerk peruses the article. DESK CLERK Could very well be ten to fifteen pounds of fecal matter on your colon walls. Dockery is not amused. DESK CLERK First of all I didn’t know my colon had walls, y’know? I’m not kidding. I seen it on the Medical Channel or some shit. They put little cameras up your asshole even, man. Just to find out how full of shit we are. Dockery gives him a sideways squinty eyed glance. Ruiz arrives with the increasingly irritated Border Agent who’s now cursing in Spanish and struggling. As they pass, Border Agent gets right up in Dockery’s face. BORDER AGENT Where do you feel safe, puta? Dockery looks him in the eye. 4.

BORDER AGENT You make me sick, arresting us. How do you live with yourself? Dockery glares at him. BORDER AGENT You got lots of new friends from both sides of the fence now, Homes. And they know where you live. RUIZ (to the agent) Come on, Esai. Ruiz drags him inside forcefully as Dockery continues to eye him, blood boiling. DOCKERY Book him. Book that piece of shit, Mel. And we’ll throw the book at him, he don’t testify against Carillo. He’s gotta give us something, you hear?

EXT. RIO GRANDE/PIEDRAS NEGRA, MEXICO - DAY A delivery truck, SINOLOA CATTLE AND DAIRY across the side, loads up with a rag tag group of Hispanic families, most likely immigrants. GRUBBY HANDS pass money to a driver, DIAZ, (35), pencil thin mustache, Ray Bans, gold chains and a pork pie hat. He coolly snatches at the mosh pit of dollar bills floating towards him and keys the ignition.

EXT. HIGHWAY - DAY THE TRUCK angles into the flow of traffic at an off ramp, Diaz at the wheel.

EXT. EAGLE PASS - DAY A PICK UP TRUCK pulls to a stop outside a cemetery. Dockery gets out and climbs up a hill, some flowers in his hand as he moves among the tombstones. He stops and looks down at a grave marker, ZYNTHIA CARILLO BORBOA, 1975-2003. Dockery kneels down and places the flowers on the grave solemnly. Makes the sign of the cross. 5.

EXT. HIGHWAY - DAY THE PICK UP TRUCK motors along. Dockery at the wheel, arm out the window, tapping his fingers on the side mirror to the beat of a radio song. Just then, he spots THE SINOLOA TRUCK in the rearview. A troubled look forms on his face.

EXT. DOCKERY’S HOUSE - DAY Dockery brings his pick up truck to a stop in his driveway. The Sinoloa Truck cruises up from behind. He climbs out, peers over his shoulder, glimpses Diaz behind the wheel. He’s about to reach for his gun, but then stops and watches as Diaz then steps on the gas. The TRUCK speeds off into the distance.

INT. DOCKERY’S HOUSE - DAY The front door opens and Dockery walks inside, exhausted. He tosses his keys down and empties his pockets, yawning. All is quiet. As he turns to enter the dining room, a GROUP OF SHADOWY FIGURES lurch forward: MANY VOICES Surprise! He jumps back, startled, as lights go on. A group adults and kids wearing party hats shake their noise makers. His face breaks into a hearty grin. Amidst the shrill party favors, SOUND of a COMMUTER TRAIN tooting it’s horn... CUT TO:

INT. TUBE STATION TUNNEL, LONDON - DAY The TRAIN continues it’s high speed journey along the rails.

INT. TRAIN (MOVING) - DAY The bumpy ride jostles passengers in the packed car. Among them, NIGEL KNEAFSAY, 47, mild mannered, portly, with long silvery hair tied back into a pony tail. 6.

He takes off his reading glasses as he folds up the Daily Mail. Across the front, a headline screams, “FRASER BUSTED, Paddock takes down Syndicate Head.” CONDUCTOR (Over intercom) Aldgate East. Upminster next. Kneafsay rises from his seat by the door.

INT. TUBE STATION - DAY Kneafsay, calmly, coolly, strides through the crowd. Everywhere the ever present gaze of CCTV Security cameras, ‘Opticon SR2010' on their sides. As crowds converge at the exit, near a cluster of cameras, a SPEAKER barks at them: SPEAKER VOICE Back up. You are too close. Single file please. A disconcerting look from Kneafsay as he passes.

EXT. ELEVATED TRAIN PLATFORM, LONDON - DAY A thin gaunt man in black takes a drag from his cigarette, paces as he chats on his cell phone. This is BILLY GILL, 27. BILLY Yeah, I seen the papers. It’s a power vacuum. Everyone’s running around rather daft as it is. As he lights another cigarette-- SPEAKER VOICE No smoking in the area. No smoking in the area. Billy glares at the speakers, attached to a cluster of CCTV CAMERAS, mounted on a pole. BILLY Oh piss off. As a train pulls in, he hangs up and flicks his cigarette at the barking speakers. SOUND of RAPID CAMERA SHUTTER as--

INT. SURVEILLANCE COMMAND CENTER - DAY CAMERA’S POV: High resolution STILLS are snapped of Billy. 7.

ON A NEARBY COMPUTER SCREEN THE STILLS are then auto forwarded as EMAIL ATTACHMENTS. MATCH CUT TO:

INT. HIGH TECH LAIR - MOMENTS LATER (DAY) THE EMAIL is opened and the pictures can be seen reflected onto the THICK GLASSES of a MAN who studies them intently. MAN’S VOICE (O.S) Tripwire system alert. This is not a test.

EXT. BUTLER’S WHARF, LONDON - DAY O'BRIEN, a burly red headed security guard, steps out of a warehouse. He pauses on the sidewalk, lighting a cigarette.

EXT. TUBE STATION - DAY As a crowd disperses into the rain, a single RED UMBRELLA is popped opened. A WOMEN’S HIGH HEELS clip-clop across the pavement. They belong to EMMA CHAPMAN, 24, dark shades, bright red lips that match the umbrella. As she marches on, more UMBRELLAS POP OPEN all around. CUT TO:

INT. DINING ROOM, DOCKERY’S HOUSE - DAY CAMERA FLASHES go off in a flurry as Dockery moves forward into the warm embrace of friends and family. Among them is a shapely blonde with attitude, KELLY DOCKERY, 43, and Rudy. RUDY Happy Birthday, Sheriff. KELLY Oh, the look on your face. DOCKERY Yeah, I thought you might be somebody else. 8.

RUDY Making more friends every day, aint ya, Doc? Rudy playfully elbows him. Dockery returns a sarcastic smile.

INT. LIVING ROOM, CARILLO’S MANSION - DAY A VIAL OF PILLS is clawed at and popped opened as TV LIGHT flickers on glazed bloodshot eyeballs. RUM is poured into a glass. Through a screen door, A BLACK SUV can be seen pulling up. SOUND of FOOTSTEPS. THE PILLS are tossed back with the RUM and a pock marked badly scarred visage grimaces. This is ARMANDO CARILLO, 55. The door behind him creaks open and Diaz enters. Hands clasped in front of him, a loyal foot soldier. DIAZ Why we don’t just kill him? CARILLO You kill him, you create a martyr, you bring further heat down on our operations. Myself, I seek a new mode of obtaining power. A power of mind over mind. Diaz is not having it, shakes his head. CARILLO Sit down. Watch the show. Let me explain reality TV to you. Diaz reluctantly eases down onto the couch next to Carillo. CARILLO My new favorite show. On the screen, a black and white camera view, the inside of DOCKERY’S HOUSE: Everyone is gathered around the cake now, candles aglow. Diaz just smiles, looks at him. Carillo turns up the SOUND--

INT. LIVING ROOM, DOCKERY’S HOUSE - DAY Rudy pats Dockery on the back, ushers him over to the table as everyone starts singing, “Happy Birthday.” 9.

The singing ends, Dockery blows out the candles. Kelly stands by, uncomfortable. CUT TO:

INT. TUBE TUNNEL, LONDON - DAY A TRAIN ROARS PAST reveals Billy strolling along the platform. He wears blue coveralls now, ‘Tower Hill Windows’ on the back in white lettering.

EXT. WAREHOUSE, BUTLER’S WHARF - DAY A truck’s lift lowers a WOODEN CRATE down onto a pallet jack.

MOMENTS LATER THE CRATE is wheeled along, the words ‘OPTICON INDUSTRIES’ visible on the side in black stencil lettering. O’Brien checks his watch, notices two DELIVERY MEN wheeling the crate forward. He tosses his cigarette, opens a sliding door to reveal an entry ramp. The Delivery Men begin pushing the large crate up the ramp, disappearing into the shadows.

INT. WAREHOUSE, SECOND FLOOR - DAY After they reach the next landing, O'Brien steps in front of them, blocking what looks to be an elevator. O'BRIEN The freight lift is out of order, you can just leave it here, Lads. The tired men nod to each other and lower the jack as O'Brien signs the paperwork and takes his copy.

EXT. BUTLER’S WHARF - DAY THE RED UMBRELLA folds up, HIGH HEELS are slipped off as Emma now steps onto

A SPEED BOAT tied down on the bank of the River Thames. 10.

MOMENTS LATER Emma, now at the controls, takes off. She cruises her way through a narrow maze-like waterway within the shipping wharf complex. It ends at the foot of the

TOWER BRIDGE where a TAXI pulls to a stop and lets off a passenger. It’s Kneafsay. He turns, walks off along the pier, determination in his crystal blue eyes.

INT. LIVING ROOM, DOCKERY’S HOUSE - DAY A WRAPPED PRESENT is passed across the table by a wiry teenage boy, KEVIN DOCKERY, JR., 17. KEVIN JR. Happy Birthday, Dad. Dockery takes it, unwraps it and stares a moment, perplexed. DOCKERY Great. What is it? KEVIN JR. Dad, it’s a Web cam. DOCKERY Uh, thanks. I think. KEVIN JR Come on, I’ll show you how to hook it up, Goober.

INT. DOCKERY’S ROOM - DAY Dockery surfs the web as Kevin Jr. connects the web cam to the desktop drive. DOCKERY Look, Kev, I hope you didn’t spend too much on this gizmo. This (gazes at manual) “XL-17 by Pioneer Industries?” KEVIN JR. Say, pass me that CD will ya? A software CD is loaded, bringing up a web site ON SCREEN: THE XL-17 from PIONEER, and below that boxes showing different locations via WEB CAM, New York, London, Paris.