Jack & Jill
New version of an old classic
Aerial shot. Title.
View of a mountainous landscape from far above.
It could be anywhere in the world where tall mountains
and peaceful valleys chase each other into the infinite.
Where majestic conifers reach into the sky, where snow
covers the summits. Maybe in China or Greece,
Argentina or British Columbia. Anywhere, where people
and the wilderness live side by side.
Exterior.Day.
A shepherd and his dog are standing on a little
hill while a couple dozen sheep are grazing around
them. Suddenly a brisk wind sweeps over them, for just
a brief second. The animals are visibly alerted and the
shepherd pulls his left ear, picks up a pinch of dirt and
throws it behind his left shoulder. Then, like nothing
happened gazes into the distance just like before.
Exterior. Day.
In the backyard of a small farmhouse in a valley
an old woman's feeding the chickens. Again, a sudden
breeze sweeps down. The chickens jump into the air like
someone's scared them, the woman pulls her left ear,
picks up a pinch of dirt and throws it behind her left
shoulder.Then like nothing happened she continues to
throw the feed to her flock.
Exterior. Day
A rabbit's hopping along in the meadow when the
same wind stops him cold. He looks up, pulls his left ear
and with a strong kick throws some dirt behind
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him.Then like nothing happened he's hopping into the
bush.
Exterior. Day. The village square.
An old flatbed truck is parked at the front of the
village hall. A scale is standing at it's side. A couple
dozen villagers congregate around the truck and it's
driver, an important-looking "City" man. He's wearing a
worn black leather jacket, riding boots and britches. A
leather pouch hangs around his neck full of money. The
people around him are the shepherds who brought the
bales of wool to be sold and shipped to the distant city
where in the factories workers make bolts of fine cloth
out of it. They brought the precious wool on the back of
a donkey, on weelbarrows, on hors-pulled wagons, some
even came on a beaten up old jelopy, put into service for
such an important day. Payday. The price of the wool is
good this year, and the people are happy.
Hussssh.
The cold wind sweeps down on the gathering.
Everybody stops talking, silence takes over the square.
All the men just like a well drilled army platoon, pull
their left ear, pick up a pinch of dirt and throw behind
their left shoulders, and then just like nothing happened
they continue where they left off. The city man looks at
them with a puzzled look on his face. Turns to the
shepherd standing next to him;
City man:
"What the hell was that about"
Shepherd:
"Didn't you feel it?"
City man:
"Feel what?"
Shepherd 2:
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"The cold wind.(Whispers)The Wicked
Witch flew over"
City man:
"What? You crazy peasants! You really believe in
such stupidity. What's this business with pulling you ear
and dusting
your behind."
Shepherd 3:
"Protection from her wicked magic."
City man:
"Magic. Don't make me laugh"
But he is laughing as hard as he can. Yells into the
air. "Hey, Wicked Witch old girl. Come back.
Won't you come for a ride? I'll take you to the
city... take you to a dance..."
Shepherd:
"Please don't tease her, you'll be sorry..."
City man:
"You really believe in this nonsense, do you..."
Shepherd:
"...you will too, just wait."
Then comes the wind again, all the people around
the square go through the ritual ear pulling, dust
throwing except the wool agent. He laughs and yells...
City man:
"Hey, Sweetheart, don't forget about our date. I'll
dine you, I'll wine you, I'll kiss you darling... like you've
never been kissed before.. we'll dance into the night"
He sings and dances around the wool bales.
Exterior. Day. Just outside the village.
The Wicked Witch is flying on her broomstick, she
sings the same tune as the City man. She is not your
traditional witch. She is rather youngish, buxom woman,
dressed in a flashy colourful outfit. Bright orange polka-
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dot blouse, full, sharp-blue skirt flaps in the wind. Her
long red hair is braided in a thick ponytail and a large
pink bow flys behind her as she touches down on the
dirt road... - Then the broom turns into a rusty old
bicycle. She sings gleefully as she peddles toward the
village.
Exterior. Day. School yard.
A little red brick school house stands at the edge
of the village. The old custodian walks up to the front
door and vigorously shakes the big brass hand bell.
Seconds later the door swings open and children are
running out to the yard. All ages, from six to fourteen,
no more then twenty, twenty-five of them. It looks like
one of those old one room schoolhouses. It is a small
village, one room, one teacher.
Ther is lots of yelling, playful screaming. A bunch
of boys are putting on a mock fight, among them is Jack
a twelve year old raucous boy. He is the loudest of them
all. He is wrestling with another boy in the dirt and he is
losing the match.
Jill, Jack's ten years old little sister is screaming at
them from the side line:
Jill:
Jack! Stop it! Stop it in this instants. I'm gonna tell
Mom about you.
Jack:
Leave me alone, go play with the girls.
Jill:
No! Stop! John, leave my brother alone! I warn
you...
Since nobody seems to be paying attention to her,
she jumps into action. Pulls John off her brother, pushes
him aside and when he tries to get back on Jack,
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Jill with a well executed trip, tackles John to the
ground to the general delight of the crowd. Jack jumps to
his feet.
Jack: (to Jill)
Now, why did you have to do that, I need no girl
to do the fighting for me. I can take care of myself...
Jill: (still holding the other boy to the ground by
standing with one foot on his chest.)
Yah? Shall I let him go get you, or are we going
home?
Jack:
I go when I'm ready...
Jill:
Ok.Big brother...(She lets the boy go)
Jack, when he sees that John is ready to get up,
bolts toward the village. Jill runs after him. When she
catches up with him, the argument continues.
Jack:
Don't you ever do it again. Everybody will laugh
at me. I need no help from you. You get it?
Jill:
I don't let anybody hurt you...
Jack:
We were just playing...
Jill:
Yah? Look at your face. It's all bruised. Look at
your pants... You're gonna get it from Mom...(she dusts
Jack's dirty
pants)
The witch appears behind the children, first we
hear her high pitched voice:
The Witch:
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Hello children! What a handsome young man you
are! What is your name... And look at you little girl...
What a pretty dress...
Jill:
Sorry Mam! We don't talk to strangers.
The Witch:
I'm no stranger... Don't you know? I'm Miss
Angelica. I live up in the hills. I love children and you
should love Miss Angelica. You want some candy? I just
bought it in the store... Have some.
Jack is ready to accept the candy but Jill pulls him
away.
Jill:
No thanks Miss. We have to go now...
Jack:
...but
Jill:
No buts. Lets go...(she drags Jack along, they run
away.
The Witch:
(Laughs) All right you little rug rat... I'll see you
around...
Exterior. Day. Backyard of the Parsonage.
A neatly kept yard/garden of the village priest.
At the stone fence Peter the Woodcutter is unloading his
pushcart, piling up the firewood into a neat pyramid.
The Parson is standing by and gently lecturing Peter
when the children pass by and notice their father in the
yard. They run in to greet the Parson and their father
and start unloading the wood. Peter stops, wipes off the
perspiration from his forehead and with a smile on his
face listens to the Parson.
Parson:
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... Peter my son, look at these logs, they are not
logs... Twigs and branches. I can't pay you good money
for this. When will you give up that silly idea that you
don't cut down a decent tree for good honest-the-
goodness firewood... You are the laughing stock of the
village. Whoever heard of such nonsense. A Woodcutter
who talks to the trees instead of cutting them down...
Peter:
Father Silvio. Have you ever heard a freshly cut
birch log cry in the fire? Have you ever seen it's tears
rising into the chimney in little puffs of clouds... Have
you ever seen the trees trying to hold up a falling
neighbour with their branches like so many arms, while
it is screaming in pain... No father I'll take what the
forest gives me voluntarily but I will never cut a living
tree again...
Parson:
You are a good man Peter, but a crazy man, God
help you...
Peter:
He will... He does.
Parson:
Well, here is your money... That's all I'll pay you
for this sorry looking pile.
Peter:
(Takes the money) That's alright Father, what's
fair, is fair... I never accept something more then I
deserve. God be with you Father Silvio, come on
children time to go.
He turns around the pushcart, the children say
goodbye to the Parson and they head out of the yard.
Jack jumps on the cart while Peter and Jill push it.
Jill:
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Jack, get off this instant... you lazy...
Peter:
Never mind, Jill, you get on too, I'll take you
home now. Peter helps the little girl on the pushcart and
they giggle and sing as they ride along the village street.
At the general store a bunch of villagers loiter around,
one of them the Candlemaker, calls out to Peter.
Candlemaker:
Hey, Peter. Have you hugged a tree lately?
Shepherd:
Peter the tree hugger. Peter the tree hugger.
All of them laugh while they make all kinds of
insulting remarks.
Jill:
Don't listen to them Father...
Peter:
Don't worry my daughter... Sticks and stones will
brake my bones But names will never hurt me...
Now they laugh as the pass by.
Shepherd:
He is crazy, that's for sure... Talking to the trees.
Sheep... that's different, they understand...and my dog,
specially my dog Hector...But trees? He is crazy for sure.
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