Following the story from Edgar Allen Poe, The Fall of the House of Usher, in a small production group, myself and another team member, scripted an adaptation of the piece which we then recorded on location in The Shelley Theatre in Boscombe, Bournemouth.
Context: The heir of the Usher family line, Roderick writes a letter requesting the presence of his childhood friend in concern of his conflicting illness. Upon arrival, the 'narrator' is welcomed into the house and is given his own room. During conversations between the two, it is learnt that Roderick is not only ill, but the house moves and speaks to him in ways which are vague and cannot be fathomed. It is also revealed that his sister was ill and has recently passed. The narrator is asked to help bury his sister, which he obliges to. However soon after, strange noises mount up upon the characters, and Madeline appears, screaming erratically, and assaulting Roderick, resulting in their simultaneous death.
Spoilers:
As a group, we decided to put a twist on the story, by using the letter as a prop to reveal that the true events in the story, were actually a figment of the narrators imagination and that he is 'insane'.
Script:
EXT.
OUTSIDE THE HOUSE OF USHER – LATE EVENING.
It
is getting dark and the wind is howling.
An
owl can be heard in the distance.
The
NARRATOR approaches the scene, riding up to the house on horseback.
It
is quiet except for the wind, horse's walking and the narrator's breathing.
When
at the house, the narrator dismounts and is approached by a servant.
SERVANT
Good evening Sir. Leave your horse
with
me. If you enter this arch way here,
the valet will show you to Mr Usher.
NARRATOR
Thank you.
The
narrator passes over the reins to the servant.
He
walks toward the arch way.
He
knocks heavily.
The
door opens with a long, echoey creak and the narrator enters the house.
INT.
THE HOUSE OF USHER – EVENING:
VALET:
(neutrally)
Follow me sir.
The
valet and the narrator walk through the house in silence.
On
the way they see trophies and family heirlooms that rattle as they pass.
They
climb a large staircase – heavy wooden footsteps, wind on the window panes
heard.
The
valet flings open a heavy door and Usher is on the other side.
The
valet clears his throat.
VALET:
Your guest, sir.
The
valet leaves, and the door shuts behind him. Click/thump noise.
Usher
rises from the sofa. Shuffled footsteps, sofa groan.
USHER:
(while walking to the narrator)
My friend! It's so good to see you.
They
shake hands.
USHER:
Come, take a seat.
They
walk over to a wooden table with two chairs. Footsteps.
Once
seated, Usher pours both himself and the narrator a drink.
They
sip in silence.
NARRATOR
(V.O)
I gazed
upon my old friend with half
a feeling of
pity, half of awe. Surely,
man had never
before been so terribly
altered, in so
brief a period, as Roderick
Usher! We sat for
a while, and eventually
we came to
discuss the nature of my visit.
We
hear muffled conversation underneath the narrator's voice over.
NARRATOR
(V.O CONT'D)
He explained how
he was suffering from a
morbid acuteness
of the senses. He told
me about how he
could only wear certain
textures of
clothes, could only eat certain
foods, how he
often heard peculiar sounds,
and how the
faintest of light tortured his
eyes. He blamed
this, as well as his nervous
affection on a
family evil.
USHER
(insistent)
It will soon pass.
Usher
pauses and sighs. Creaking of his chair.
USHER (CONT'D)
But my sister, she is very ill. The
doctors do not understand it.
NARRATOR
(V.O)
He explained how
his sister kept
falling into
death like states.
USHER
Her
decease...would leave me
as the last of the Ushers.
(he pauses, his tone of
voice changes to positive)
Come, let me show you something
I've been working on.
INT.
THE HOUSE OF USHER – NIGHT.
Usher
plays the guitar.
USHER:
(while playing guitar)
In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace-
Radiant palace- reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's
dominion-
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!
The
sound of a pen scrawling on paper can now be heard, the rest of the song is
sung quietly in the background underneath the reading of Usher's letter.
USHER (CONT'D):
(in the background)
[But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch's high
estate.
(Ah, let us mourn!- for never
morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate!)
And round about his home the
glory
That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
And travellers, now, within that
valley,
Through the red-litten windows
see
Vast forms, that move
fantastically
To a discordant melody,
While, like a ghastly rapid
river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out
forever]
USHER: (V.O.
OVER MUSIC)
(echoey to highlight that it
is the reading of a letter)
My dear old friend, I wish you'd have
told me about what this house did to
you. I know I told you of the evils
that haunted the House of Usher, but
I hadn't realised the intensity of
its' powers.
(pauses)
Anyway, what I'd like to inform you of
is my sincere apologies toward your
current...state. All I can say is that
I wish there was more that I could have
done, that you would have let me do to
aid you.
The
music stops.
INT.
USHER'S HOUSE, READING ROOM – DUSK.
Armchairs
set apart with a small table and mugs between. Wooden floorboards.
USHER:
The
illness has taken her. This time
she
won't wake up. She's gone.
NARRATOR:
Rod,
I’m sorry. I wish the best.
There
is a 3 second pause.
Building
organ-like music in the background.
Usher
walks over to the narrator – slow heavy footsteps and rustling of clothes.
USHER:
(low tone)
Tea?
Clinking
of a mug is heard with a spoon stirring.
USHER (V.O):
Your family got
in contact, not
long after you
left my house to
tell me of the
occurrences which
followed. They
explained that you
had told them
what you had experienced
during your
visit. How it haunted
you. And I told
them how I had, and
to this day, have,
no recollection
of the events
that you swore were true.
My dear friend,
please, understand that
they want to help
you.
USHER:
I fear something will happen.
NARRATOR:
(between sips)
I know what you mean, the air is
sick.
USHER:
(aggravated)
No. You don't-
NARRATOR
(cutting him off)
Understand? I've lost people.
Many people. I understand.
USHER:
(louder)
I fear something will happen.
NARRATOR:
Like what!?
Creaks
from the house make Rod hesitate.
Distant
muffled groans and footsteps echo.
USHER:
Do you hear that?
Scratching
noise is heard.
NARRATOR:
What do you fear will happen?
USHER:
Err..
Rod
seems uncertain, muffled footsteps are heard.
USHER: (CONT’D)
The scientists, they're here. They
...did things, but not enough to save
her. She's gone, but they haven't
finished their research, even though
she's soon to be six feet under. You
must help me.
NARRATOR:
Rod, what are you asking me to do? My
loyalties only relay so far.
USHER:
Help me finally lay her to rest. We
must move her, to keep her away from
their prying eyes.
There
is a pause.
Shuffling
of feet heard, adjusting in their chairs, clearing of throats, echoey knocks
around the house, exasperation. Footsteps on brickwork, noises of heavy lifting
– grunts.
NARRATOR
(V.O):
I'd never before
noticed that Roderick
and Madeline were
twins. Their faces
eerily similar
and creepily alike in
demeanour. And
her rosy cheeks, in death,
gave her an
almost lifelike quality.
INT.
HOUSE OF USHER. THE NEXT EVENING.
Low
tone music as if off a record player plays. Scratching noises, quiet groans,
tapping (heartbeat), distant owl, rustling leaves, twigs bouncing on a window
pane, rumble of thunder, scuttling bug/mouse. The narrator is in his chamber.
A
heavy and urgent knock at the door.
The
narrator shuffles about.
There
is another knock, this time slower and quieter.
Suddenly
the door opens, loud creak, low groan heard.
NARRATOR:
Rod, what-?
Usher
is stood, tapping a nervous foot and whimpering.
NARRATOR (CONT'D):
Come in, quickly, please.
Door
closes with a subtle noise behind Rod. They both move towards the armchairs
near the window.
USHER:
Draw the curtains, let them moon
light cool my skin.
The
narraor hastily paces toward the curtains and draws sharply. Sound to highlight
the brightness of the moon.
Usher
inhales deeply.
USHER
(V.O):
I know we haven't
always been close in
bond, despite
having a fondness for each
other throughout
our younger years. I knew
upon request you
would not falter to come
to my aid,
however no aid is required. I
am merely a
consequence of my own devices,
that I am sure.
USHER (CONT’D):
The night is all but heavy with
anticipation,
my sleep is disrupted. I hope you
don't mind
my intrusion.
NARRATOR:
Not at all.
USHER
(CONT'D):
The night I came
to your chamber to check
on you, I noticed
something had changed
in your state of
mind. Hence the suggestion
I made to read a
book.
Both
characters move to sit down – shuffled footsteps and the creaks of chairs are
heard – one a rocking chair – constant rocking noise.
The
narrator flips through books on near bookcase.
NARRATOR:
Roderick?
USHER:
Yes, yes choose one.
NARRATOR:
Preferred author?
Usher
breathes heavily, tapping his fingers impatiently.
NARRATOR (CONT’D):
Okay, Mad Trist? I've read perhaps a
chapter or two before.
The
narrator adjusts himself in his chair.
NARRTOR (CONT'D):
Never found a love for it, but from
it's wear, I presume it's one of your
favourites.
The
sound of book pages turning escalates, turns into flicking
louder
taps, knocks and distant noises are heard, rustling and slight groaning –
increasingly getting louder.
NARRATOR
(V.O):
I began to read
to him, and that's when
it started.
USHER (V.O):
Perhaps you
aren't mentally ill. Or at
least I wouldn't
call it that. You are
displaced, your
mind is merely scattered
and you need
help. You need help to reform
it so you can be
happy and carefree. I
only want the
best for you my friend.
Usher mutters audibly.
NARRATOR:
Roderick, are you well?
Usher
continues to mutter.
NARRATOR:
Rod?
USHER (WHISPERED/RUSHED):
They've been happening for days. The
noises.
Or have they? I can't really tell. The
house
tries to tempt me out but I won't give
in.
Quiet
screams heard, bricks distant, shuffling louder footsteps, wind whirling –
gales, dripping tap now heard. Music heightens.
NARRATOR:
Someone's coming. Is anyone in the
house?
Usher
is quiet, whimpering and frightened of the encroaching noises. Shuffles loudly
and faster in his seat, heavy breathing, heart beat quickens.
NARRATOR:
What? What are you pointing at?
USHER:
You. You buried her alive!
NARRATOR:
What do you..? Roderick, you said she
had passed, you said she was gone. She
was... I mean her cheeks were pink
but...
Oh no. What have I done!?
Sudden
faster paced footsteps, from distant to close, getting louder.
A
sudden shrill scream echoes and the wind blows open the windows, crashing with
a mighty burst and rumble.
Usher
is muttering loudly, as a loud click is heard from the clasp of the door. It
slams open loudly, the books fall off the shelf and the loud noise of creaking
and dropping wood planks is heard.
A
low chuckle breaks the noise to a low hum.
MADELINE:
You.
Madeline
appears out of nowhere at the door, lighter barefoot footsteps heard as she
enters.
Usher
is panting heavily, almost crying with fear.
NARRATOR:
Madeline!? Rod, what have you done!?
Madeline
screams a shrill scream.
USHER:
Madeline, I feared you were alive from
my
superstitious ways but my God you
are...
barely living.
Madeline
runs toward Usher, who screams and gargles as she strangles him.
NARRATOR:
Get off him, you're killing him!
Madeline
pushes harder laughing hysterically.
The
narrator pulls at Madeline's grasp on Usher grunting in effort.
Almost
in synchronization, both Usher and Madeline gargle and choke as the life drains
from them.
NARRATOR:
No! Roderick!
A
heavy sound of Madeline's body dropping to the ground and the mug dropping on
the floor ends the screaming and gargling.
The
house continues to creak and moan, the floor trembles and the windows begin to
smash one by one.
NARRATOR:
Roderick, I'm so sorry!
The
narrator runs from the house, down the stairs, past falling glass and light
fittings, electricity jolts are heard.
The
front door swings open and he pants out heavily onto the grass outside before
falling to his knees heavily and grasping the ground.
USHER (V.O):
I didn't
understand why you fled. Why
you stared so
intently as if you could
see something
that I could not. And now
I understand.
NARRATOR:
(crying)
You had no idea what was coming! You
wanted a witness! You lied, you said
she
was dead, you said you were ill! It's
you,
it's all you!
NARRATOR
(V.O):
We buried her
alive. She came back. She
came back to
punish us.
USHER
(V.O):
She really did
pass, my friend.
The things you
told them. What happened to
Madeline, what we
did to her, how could you?
More like why did
you conjure up a story like
that? I know you
aren't of good health, but
you mustn't force
elaborate stories. It seems
that until now
our contact has been lost between
carriers, and
further attempts ignored. I hope
for both our
sakes that this letter can bring
you some clarity,
and you will be released and
able to go back
to the life you once knew.
Until then my
friend
(guitar,
continued from song)
I pray you laugh,
but smile no more.
Roderick Usher.
INT. MENTAL HEALTH ASYLUM.
The narrator rocks back and forth and mutters to himself.
NARRATOR:
And so I ran. She
came back to get us,
and she got him.
DOCTOR:
Ok, thank you for
explaining.
The doctor gets up and leaves the room.
DOCTOR:
(to someone
else)
There's no change.
He still fully
believes the story
he's telling us.
Give me the letter
from Roderick.
Usher.
