| 1. | |
| FADE IN: | |
| FLAME | |
| Out of the blackness a flame flickers to life. Into this | |
| warm light, pair of old and calloused hands bring a baby. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| When the boy was born, like all | |
| Spartans, he was inspected. | |
| The newborn is roughly turned and handled like a piece of | |
| fruit. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| If he had been small or puny or | |
| sickly or misshapen, he would have | |
| been discarded. | |
| From an unseen window a wind extinguishes the candle | |
| plunging us into darkness. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| From the time he could stand he was | |
| baptized in the fire of combat. | |
| A boy of three fights his father in mock battle with his | |
| mother looking on. They duel with wooden swords, but this | |
| is not a game. The boy's father knocks the sword out of the | |
| boy's hand with force, then pushes him to the ground. The | |
| boy grits his teeth, scrambles in the dusty ground for his | |
| sword, then rises ready to fight, his eyes wide and | |
| intense. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Taught never to retreat, never to | |
| surrender ... Taught that death on | |
| the battlefield in service to | |
| Sparta was the greatest glory he | |
| could achieve in his life. | |
| The boy, now five, watches his father as he passes his hand | |
| across a three-foot bronze shield. His fingers gently | |
| tracing the dents and scars in the hammered metal. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| At age 7, as is customary in | |
| Sparta, the boy was taken from his | |
| mother and plunged into a world of | |
| violence. | |
| 2. | |
| A woman cries, held by two other women. She weeps | |
| uncontrollably as her son is led away. Her body heaving as | |
| she watches him go. | |
| 2 EXT. SPARTANCOURTYARD - DAY 2 | |
| A Spartan boy of maybe eight is beaten by another boy of | |
| the same age. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Manufactured by 300 years of | |
| Spartan warrior society to create | |
| the finest soldiers the world has | |
| ever known, the Agoge, as it is | |
| called, forces the boy to fight ... | |
| Time slows: Blood sprays from his mouth as he is struck | |
| again and again and again. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Starves them, forces them to steal | |
| and if necessary, to kill. | |
| The boy stands out of breath, his body gleaming with sweat. | |
| Blood drips from his fists. | |
| 4 EXT. SPARTANCOURTYARD - DAY 4 | |
| A boy of eleven is tied at the wrists. His face pressed | |
| against a column as a handful of muscular, grim-faced | |
| soldiers watch. His back already bleeding as he is whipped | |
| again. His face is stone, emotionless. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| By rod and lash the boy was | |
| punished, taught to show no pain, | |
| taught to show no mercy. | |
| 6 EXT. PINDOS MOUNTAINS - DUSK 6 | |
| Blue light crouches on black rocks. Snow drifts, defying | |
| gravity. A hand, blistered by the cold, clamors and climbs. | |
| The hand belongs to the boy, now twelve. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Constantly tested, tossed into the | |
| wild. Left to pit his wits and will | |
| against nature's fury. | |
| 3. | |
| Though starving and freezing, there is a nobility in the | |
| boy's gaze. Though his body shakes, his homespun tunic no | |
| match for the bitter cold, he is defiant. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| He'd survived on roots, bugs and | |
| rodents, and now he was freezing to | |
| death. It was his initiation ... | |
| his time in the wild ... for he | |
| would return to his people a | |
| Spartan, or not at all. | |
| The boy stumbles into a clearing surrounded on three sides | |
| by the stone faces of the canyon. He stands, peering into | |
| the gathering din. He grips the spear, lightly moving it | |
| back and forth from hand to hand. The spear is little more | |
| than a child's toy, a sharpened stick. The boy's eyes | |
| search the tree line, the darkness moves ... shadow gliding | |
| on muscle and sinew. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| He hears a low growl. The hair on | |
| his arms stands up. Cold, hungry, | |
| defenseless. He is prey. | |
| It tracks the boy and he knows it. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| The wolf begins to circle the boy. | |
| Claws of black steel, fur as dark | |
| as night, eyes glowing red ... | |
| jewels from the pit of Hades | |
| itself. | |
| The WOLF breathes in misty clouds, the swirling snow | |
| printed against its black fur. | |
| GROWLING as it moves closer, circling, hunting. | |
| WE SEE: The boy from between a narrow cut in the rock, just | |
| large enough for him to squeeze through~ His eyes are calm. | |
| His body has stopped shaking. He sees the crack in the | |
| black stone, and turns slowly, almost casually, toward it. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| The giant wolf ... sniffing ... | |
| drooling ... savoring the scent of | |
| the meal to come. Does the boy run? | |
| Does he cower? Does he cry? No ... | |
| not this boy. He is calm. | |
| 4. | |
| The beast pauses, loading to spring. The boy leaps through | |
| the cut in the rock. The WOLF pounces, HOWLING as it | |
| charges! | |
| Its jaws are inches from the boy's neck as he falls | |
| backward through the wound in the rock. The beast's body is | |
| stopped cold in the tight space. Thrashing, the wolf is | |
| pinned by the unforgiving stone. The boy rises slowly. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| It is not fear that grips him, only | |
| a heightened sense of things. | |
| The snow drifts around his feet. | |
| TIME SLOWS. | |
| The wolf's jaws GNASH! The boy exhales slowly. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| The cold air in his lungs. The | |
| leafless poplars moving against the | |
| coming night. | |
| His eyes look back toward the wolf, he nods his respect, | |
| then raises his spear. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| His hands are steady, his form | |
| perfect. | |
| The clouds part, and the just rising crescent moon, warm on | |
| the horizon, casts a shadow of the angry wolf on the cold | |
| rock. The boy sets himself, then strikes. | |
| 7 EXT. SPARTANCOURTYARD - DAY 7 | |
| A Spartan helmet lands heavily in the snow-covered | |
| courtyard, followed by the thick-muscled frame of a | |
| SPARTANGENERAL, who, after going to his knees, bows his | |
| head to the snow. Standing before him is the boy, draped in | |
| the freshly dressed pelt of a black wolf. As others enter | |
| the courtyard, they too fall to their knees, SHOUTING! | |
| Spears are raised. | |
| CRIES of joy and reverence are heard as the boy raises his | |
| chin. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| So the boy, given up for dead, | |
| returns to his people, to sacred | |
| Sparta, a King ... | |
| 5. | |
| 9 EXT. THE CAMPFIRES OF WAR - NIGHT 9 | |
| Dozens of SPARTANHOPLITES sit and stand, transfixed by the | |
| agitated pacing Spartan whose fist is raised in dramatic | |
| punctuation. This is DILIOS (28), the storyteller. His | |
| gift. His curse. To conjure from his memory, from his | |
| imagining, that which men forgot, but need to remember. | |
| DILIOS | |
| ... Our King! LEONIDAS! | |
| The men visible in the firelight, and countless others in | |
| the darkness beyond ... | |
| POUND their shields in unison and cry as one. | |
| SPARTANS | |
| LEONIDAS! LEONIDAS! LEONIDAS! | |
| A HUSH falls over the band of Spartan warriors, their faces | |
| hard, bodies oiled for war. All listen as Dilios pauses. | |
| His voice lowers. | |
| DILIOS | |
| It has been more than thirty years | |
| since the wolf and the winter cold, | |
| and now, as then, a beast | |
| approaches, patient, and confident, | |
| savoring the meal to come. But this | |
| beast is made of men and horses, | |
| swords and spears. | |
| Dilion scans his audience. The light from the fire moves | |
| across the capes of crimson and helmets of bronze. Dilion | |
| is a grim orator. His scarred and ruddy face bears witness | |
| to his own story. | |
| DILIOS | |
| It is an army of slaves, vast | |
| beyond imagining, ready to devour | |
| tiny Greece. Ready to snuff out the | |
| world's one hope for reason and | |
| justice. | |
| There is brewing anger in the eyes of his listeners. Dilios | |
| sets his gaze to the fire. | |
| DILIOS | |
| The beast approaches, and it was | |
| King Leonidas himself who provoked | |
| it. | |
| 6. | |
| 10 EXT. GREEK COUNTRYSIDE 10 | |
| Colorful Persian BANNERSSNAP! Pulling taut in the wind. * | |
| The earth is overturned under the charge of the Company of | |
| War horses. ARCHERS, SWORDSMEN and SHADOWED FORMS. | |
| Riders all covered in thin patterned robes of gold and | |
| blue, embroidered silks, braided belts with long-shouldered | |
| capes flowing. Into the sunless dry scrub and wood where | |
| the path curves dark and cool they ride on ... They ride | |
| on! | |
| 11 EXT. SPARTA 11 | |
| No wall surrounds Sparta. The buildings have no flowered | |
| columns, no carved arches, no fluted gables, no recorded | |
| dates and wreathed tributes to the dead. No, this is | |
| Sparta. This is the simple elegance of an unadorned | |
| shelter. | |
| WE SEE: The mounted Persian column appear in the stillness | |
| of the morning. A massive black horse rears and drops its | |
| frame, dust curling around its hooves. A PERSIAN MESSENGER | |
| with scarred face and sharpened teeth of gold settles the | |
| horses. His 20 men-at-arms fill in along his side. | |
| MESSENGER | |
| I bring word from the Great Xerxes, | |
| Conqueror of all the world. | |
| The Spartan SENTRIES approach, slowly. One steps forward | |
| and sniffs the air, mocking the Persian force. | |
| SENTRY/FL | |
| Could we offer you a bath, Persian? | |
| WE HEAR: Laughter from the other Spartans standing nearby. | |
| SENTRYF/2 | |
| I am sure our women have a perfume | |
| you'll find agreeable. | |
| The Persian Messenger pulls at the leather reins of his | |
| mount, sinking the bit into the horse's foaming mouth. | |
| MESSENGER | |
| Greek arrogance! It will be the | |
| death of you all. If it were not | |
| for diplomacy, I would rip the | |
| breath from your lungs. | |
| 7. | |
| He turns the horse in a tight circle and looks out at the | |
| CITIZENS of Sparta who are milling about, Helot farmers, | |
| masons, women and children watch as the Messenger glares | |
| down at them. | |
| MESSENGER | |
| Show me your King. | |
| SENTRY #1 | |
| Our King is a busy man. | |
| The Persian Messenger reaches into a waxed canvas bag that | |
| lays across the horse's neck. | |
| WE SEE: The jeweled crowns of conquered nations. The | |
| Messenger lifts at the rope running through the bone-white | |
| eye sockets of a half-dozen human skulls. | |
| MESSENGER | |
| These Kings were busy men once. | |
| The Messenger kicks at his horse, holding the skulls and | |
| royal headdresses for all to see. | |
| MESSENGER | |
| Be afraid. Sparta will burn to the | |
| ground. Only the word of King | |
| Leonidas can save it. | |
| 12 EXT. SPARTAN GARDEN 12 | |
| WE HEAR: The FLUTTER of HUMMINGBIRDS against the pale stone | |
| walls covered, thick and dark, with ivy and wild lilac. | |
| KING LEONIDAS (40), strong and lean, a king, a warrior, a | |
| father, rolls on the ground in simulated combat with his | |
| six-year-old boy, PLEISTARCHOS. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Remember, my son. The more you | |
| sweat here the less you will bleed | |
| in battle. | |
| The boy dives at his father, missing the King's legs. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Follow your instincts. | |
| Leonidas smiles. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Act without hesitation. | |
| 8. | |
| Again the boy tackles and they tumble over each other into | |
| the soft grass. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Hesitation creates fear. | |
| They wrestle on ... continuing one of the ancient rituals | |
| of father and son. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Fear is always a constant. But | |
| accepting it will make you | |
| stronger. | |
| Leonidas spins and grabs the boy's leg, pulling him to the | |
| ground. Leonidas looks across the garden to see his wife, | |
| QUEENGORGO(28), with her athletic frame, watching the two | |
| of them. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| In the end, a Spartan's true | |
| strength is the warriors next to | |
| him. Give respect and honor and it | |
| will be returned to you. | |
| Leonidas rolls the boy to his back. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| First, you fight with your head. | |
| WE SEE: A Spartan, Leonidas' CAPTAIN (45), broad-shouldered | |
| and fiercely loyal, speaking to Gorgo near stone pillars of | |
| the compound. | |
| Pleistarchos arches, slips free and reverses to his | |
| father's back. | |
| GORGO | |
| Then you fight with your heart. | |
| Gorgo lifts Pleistarchos off of his father. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| What is it? | |
| GORGO | |
| Your father has things to attend | |
| to. | |
| Leonidas rises to his feet. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| (to Pleistarchos) | |
| 9. | |
| Bring me my sword. | |
| The boy nods and goes. | |
| GORGO | |
| A Persian messenger awaits you. | |
| Pleistarchos returns with a simple short sword of iron, its | |
| handle inlaid carnelian and amber. Leonidas arms himself | |
| and leans down, kissing his son on the forehead. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Do not forgot today's lesson. | |
| PLEISTARCHOS | |
| Respect and honor. | |
| 13 EXT. MARKETPLACE 13 | |
| The Persians wait in the full heat of the sun, watched by | |
| Spartan guards. Free women and children pass the narrow | |
| streets, carrying electrum vases, all shapes and sizes of | |
| glass and terra-cotta water vessels. | |
| THERON, 36, a Spartan Councilman with noble features, a | |
| body of lean muscles and piercing eyes, retired from the | |
| battlefield for a life in politics, stands and speaks | |
| freely with the Messenger from the East as Leonidas and | |
| Gorgo approach. | |
| GORGO | |
| Councilman, you have found yourself | |
| needed, for once. | |
| Theron allows the comment to disappear into the sounds of | |
| the market. | |
| THERON | |
| My King and Queen, I was just | |
| entertaining your guests. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| I am sure. | |
| Leonidas stands before the Persian Messenger. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| 10. | |
| Before you speak, Persian, know | |
| that in Sparta everyone, even a | |
| king's messenger, is held | |
| accountable for the words of his | |
| voice. Now, what message do you | |
| bring? | |
| The Messenger opens his great arms, palms to the azure sky. | |
| MESSENGER | |
| Earth and water! | |
| Leonidas narrows his eyes. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| You rode all the way from Persia | |
| for earth and water? | |
| The Persian holds to his message studying the King's face. | |
| GORGO | |
| Do not be coy or stupid, Persian. | |
| You can afford neither in Sparta. | |
| The Persian turns to Gorgo, never having been spoken to by | |
| a woman in this tone. | |
| MESSENGER | |
| What makes this woman think she can | |
| speak among men? | |
| GORGO | |
| Because only Spartan women give | |
| birth to real men. | |
| The Persian must swallow his pride along with the insult | |
| before his men. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Let us walk to cool our tongues. | |
| Leonidas turns away, leaving the rest to follow the King's | |
| steps. | |
| MESSENGER | |
| If you value your lives over your | |
| complete annihilation, listen | |
| carefully, Leonidas. Xerxes | |
| conquers and controls everything | |
| that his eye rests upon. | |
| The Messenger throws a look to Gorgo and continues. | |
| 11. | |
| MESSENGER | |
| He leads a force so massive it | |
| shakes the earth with its march. | |
| Its number so vast it drinks the | |
| rivers dry. | |
| The Spartan bodyguards watch the Persians carefully. | |
| MESSENGER | |
| All the God-King Xerxes requires is | |
| this, a simple offering of earth | |
| and water. A token of Sparta's | |
| submission to the will of Xerxes. | |
| Leonidas stops in his tracks ... | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Submission ... ? That's a bit of a | |
| problem. Rumor has it the Athenians | |
| have already turned you down. And | |
| if those philosophers and boy | |
| lovers found that kind of nerve ... | |
| Theron moves forward. | |
| THERON | |
| We must be diplomatic. | |
| Leonidas raises his hand. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| ... And Spartans have their | |
| reputation to consider. | |
| MESSENGER | |
| Choose your next words carefully, | |
| Leonidas. They may be your last as | |
| king. | |
| Leonidas looks away from the Messenger's eyes and scans the | |
| Persian bodyguards, assessing their strength. | |
| TIME SLOWS for our King. He watches the freedoms of his | |
| people. | |
| WE HEAR: The sounds of CHILDREN'S LAUGHTER. | |
| The simple pure life each have built for themselves. The | |
| words "earth and water" form quietly on his lips. He looks | |
| to his Queen, mother of his child. | |
| TIME UNWRAPS | |
| 12. | |
| As Leonidas stares at the Messenger. | |
| In one motion the King draws his sword, bringing it to the | |
| Persian's neck: | |
| MESSENGER | |
| Madman ... you're a madman! | |
| The Spartan guards quickly follow their King and hold their | |
| weapons to the Persian force before them. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Earth and water. | |
| Leonidas begins to back the Persian messenger up towards a | |
| deep open well. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| You'll find plenty of both down | |
| there. | |
| MESSENGER | |
| No man, Persian or Greek, no man | |
| threatens a messenger. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| You bring the crowns and heads of | |
| conquered kings to my city steps. | |
| You insult my Queen. You threaten | |
| my people with slavery and death. | |
| I've chosen my words carefully, | |
| Persian. I hear your message | |
| clearly. It is that of a war party! | |
| Leonidas touches his sword onto the dark flesh of the | |
| Messenger. | |
| MESSENGER | |
| This is blasphemy! | |
| Theron raises his hands in a desperate attempt to stop | |
| Leonidas. | |
| THERON | |
| This is madness. | |
| Leonidas has the messenger's heels hanging above the void | |
| of the well. The Persians eye the Spartans nervously. | |
| 13. | |
| WE SEE: The sword lowering from the Persian's neck. Theron | |
| relaxes, thinking reason has prevailed. A warm wind plays | |
| against the King's robe. Leonidas looks at Gorgo, she nods, | |
| knowing full well what that nod brings to her King and | |
| Sparta. And with one great push against the Persian's chest | |
| ... | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Madness? This is Sparta! | |
| The Messenger's body falls away ... deep ... deep into the | |
| circular chasm. Theron steps back as the Spartan men | |
| unleash their savagery. Persian after Persian follows the | |
| first, resting where even their faint cries for mercy | |
| cannot be heard. | |
| 14 EXT. A ROCKYCLIFF ABOVE SPARTA - NIGHT 14 | |
| Lit by the almost full moon, Leonidas climbs hard, with | |
| clenched teeth, the steep rock face inaccessible to most. | |
| A foot slips. Rocks come loose. His grip tightens and he | |
| climbs on, finally pulling himself and his sixty-pound | |
| leather satchel onto a small ledge where a cloaked figure | |
| stands. | |
| The WIND pushes and pulls the torchlight this way and that. | |
| This is an EPHOR, a priest of the old gods, deformed by | |
| breeding. His face and body are covered with boils and | |
| lesions. His eyes are bleached white under the hoods of | |
| black. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| The Ephors. Priests to the Old | |
| Gods, inbred swine, more creature | |
| than man. Creatures whom even a | |
| king must bribe ... and bed. | |
| EPHOR #1 | |
| Welcome, Leonidas. We have been | |
| expecting you. | |
| The FIRE ROARS in protest at the end of the torch. The | |
| Ephor turns and begins to climb an impossible set of stairs | |
| hewn out of the rock of the mountain. Leonidas shoulders | |
| the satchel and starts after his ungracious host up the | |
| stairs, which circle around a finger of rock toward a | |
| simple stone temple that glows at the summit. | |
| 15 INT. EPHORS' TEMPLE - NIGHT 15 | |
| 14. | |
| Oil lanterns cast a warm light on EIGHT EPHORS, all as | |
| decrepit as their brother, who stand around Leonidas as he | |
| hastily lays out his plan. At the center of the temple is a | |
| low stone box filled with fine sand used by the Ephors to | |
| sketch down that which is fleeting to man and even more | |
| fleeting to the Gods. Leonidas pulls a wooden block across | |
| the sand to smooth its surface. | |
| Then, with his finger, he begins to draw. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| The Persians claim their forces | |
| number in the millions. I hope, for | |
| our sake, they exaggerate. | |
| One of the Ephors interrupts the King, his arms crossed, | |
| his blistered face stern. | |
| EPHOR #2 | |
| You insult the Gods with your | |
| arrogance, Leonidas. We are not a | |
| council of men. We serve the Gods, | |
| not the whim of a King. Before your | |
| plan is heard, what do you offer? | |
| Leonidas is mid-line, drawing his battle plan in the sand. | |
| He looks up at the hooded figures. He lifts a finger slowly | |
| from the sand. He ducks the leather strap of his satchel | |
| and tosses it at the feet of the Ephors. | |
| The gold spills out onto the stone floor. | |
| Dipping his finger back into the sand, Leonidas sketches a | |
| primitive map. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| We will use our superior fighting | |
| skills and the terrain of Greece | |
| herself to destroy them. We will | |
| march North to the coast. I will | |
| ... | |
| EPHOR #1 | |
| It is August, Leonidas. The full | |
| moon approaches. | |
| EPHOR #2 | |
| The sacred and ancient festival. | |
| Sparta wages no war at the time of | |
| the Carneia. | |
| Leonidas is desperate, almost angry. He searches the dead | |
| eyes of the Ephors. | |
| 15. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Sparta will burn! Her men will die | |
| at arms, and her women and children | |
| will be slaves or worse. This is | |
| not a campaign for land riches. It | |
| is a fight for our very lives! | |
| Leonidas plunges his finger back into the sand and draws a | |
| line running perpendicular to his line representing the | |
| coast. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| We will block the Persian coastal | |
| assault by replacing the great | |
| stone wall, built by the Phocians | |
| to protect Greece two hundred years | |
| ago, and funnel them into the | |
| mountain pass we call the Hot | |
| Gates. | |
| Leonidas holds his hands up in front of his face as if they | |
| are the Hot Gates themselves. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| In that narrow corridor their | |
| numbers will count for nothing. | |
| The King pounds his fist into his open hand. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Xerxes' losses will be so great, | |
| his men so demoralized, he will | |
| have no choice but to abandon his | |
| campaign. | |
| The Ephors move uneasily, looking back and forth between | |
| each other. Leonidas is mystified by their silence. | |
| EPHOR #1 | |
| We must consult the Oracle. Trust | |
| the Gods, Leonidas. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| I'd prefer you trust your reason. | |
| The Ephor snaps back at Leonidas, pointing a misshapen | |
| finger at the kneeling King. | |
| EPHOR #1 | |
| Your blasphemies have cost us quite | |
| enough already. Don't compound | |
| them. We will consult the oracle. | |
| 16. | |
| The Ephors turn away. Leonidas follows them. Carved into | |
| the stone, under a domed ceiling, is an altar. It is a | |
| stage fashioned to look like the hand of a God. In its | |
| palm, a beautiful YOUNGGIRL moves hypnotically. | |
| Around the altar the Ephors stoke small fires which burn | |
| green with the smell of sulfur, careful not to breathe the | |
| smoke themselves, they retreat to the shadows. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Diseased old mystics ... worthless | |
| remnants of a time before Sparta's | |
| ascent from darkness ... remnants | |
| of a senseless tradition. Tradition | |
| even Leonidas cannot defy, for he | |
| must respect the word of the | |
| Ephors. That is the law. | |
| Leonidas watches as the vapors engulf the girl. She begins | |
| to shake and convulse, her body thinly veiled by the | |
| sheerest of fabric. The firelight behind her reveals the | |
| beauty of her form and the tragedy of her plight. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| ... And no Spartan, subject or | |
| citizen, man or woman, slave or | |
| King, is above the law. | |
| Then, through the darkness -- | |
| DRUMS! The girl's eyes roll back. Her body heaves and | |
| writhes. She moans and drools, her hips thrusting, her | |
| chest heaving. She | |
| CRIES! Through her pleasure and pain. The beating of the | |
| drums quicken, as does the violence of her rapture. | |
| Her veil clings to her sweaty form until finally she CRIES | |
| out! | |
| DRUMS stop, and she collapses. After a moment, the Ephors | |
| run in extinguishing the fires. One of the Ephors leans | |
| close to the Oracle as another pulls a wooden block across | |
| the sand, erasing the King's plan. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| The Ephors choose only the most | |
| beautiful Spartan girls to live | |
| among them as Oracles. Their beauty | |
| is their curse, for the old | |
| wretches have the needs of men ... | |
| and souls as black as hell. | |
| 17. | |
| Her breathing is shallow. The old Ephor can't resist | |
| letting his tongue lick across the Oracle's neck, tasting | |
| her salty skin, before he turns his deformed ear to her | |
| mouth, which whispers in trance. As he listens, he speaks | |
| in an ancient language spoken only by Ephors. She speaks as | |
| he translates. | |
| EPHOR #1 | |
| Pray to the winds. Sparta will | |
| fall. All Greece will fall. Trust | |
| not in men. Honor the Gods. Honor | |
| the Carneia. | |
| Leonidas shows nothing. A WIND HOWLS through the columns of | |
| the open temple. He looks into the faces of the Ephors, | |
| then turns into the darkness and is gone. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| The King's climb down is harder. | |
| Pompous inbred swine ... worthless, | |
| diseased, rotten ... | |
| 16 INT. THE EPHORS' TEMPLE - MOMENTS LATER 16 | |
| Gold falls in showers. Printed onto the coins is the | |
| likeness of a Persian God or man. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| ... corrupt ... | |
| The Ephors kneel, running their hands through the great | |
| pile of gold. Standing in the firelight, is Theron. At his | |
| side, a large PERSIAN, his body crisscrossed with chains | |
| and giant locks of ancient iron, tosses a handful of gold | |
| onto the pile. | |
| Theron turns to the Persian. | |
| THERON | |
| Leonidas will not march. The word | |
| of the Oracle is final. | |
| PERSIAN | |
| What of your Spartan Council? Could | |
| they not vote to ignore these | |
| mystics' words. | |
| THERON | |
| 18. | |
| The members of that Council are as | |
| superstitious as they are old. Your | |
| gold is well spent. When I am made | |
| ruler or all Greece and Sparta is | |
| its capital, her people and armies | |
| will serve the God King well. | |
| PERSIAN | |
| You have only to remove the Spartan | |
| Queen and its heir for your plan to | |
| be complete. | |
| THERON | |
| You need not instruct me in the | |
| course of my own treachery. This | |
| plan was born long before Xerxes | |
| turned his eye to Greece. It rose | |
| from my hatred of Leonidas' | |
| measured judgment ... It rose from | |
| my envy of his skill in battle ... | |
| It rose from my lust for the warmth | |
| of his young bride. All the hate in | |
| my soul will find itself manifested | |
| on his house, and his victories, | |
| his love, his freedom, his very | |
| blood will lie in ruin at my feet. | |
| Theron turns to the Ephors. | |
| THERON | |
| This is but a token. Great Xerxes | |
| gives his thanks, oh wise and holy | |
| men. You are truly in the God | |
| King's favor now. | |
| The Persian smiles, his face adorned with gold piercings, | |
| his eyes pale blue. | |
| PERSIAN | |
| Yes, for when Sparta burns, you | |
| will bathe in gold. Fresh oracles | |
| will be delivered to you daily, | |
| from every corner of the empire. | |
| 17 INT. LEONIDAS' BEDCHAMBER - NIGHT 17 | |
| The waxing gibbous moon shines onto the stone floor of the | |
| King's bedroom. | |
| It is a second-story room overlooking a small courtyard. | |
| Beyond that, edged by moonlight, the roofs and houses of | |
| sleeping Sparta. | |
| 19. | |
| Leonidas leans of the frame of his balcony doorway, unable | |
| to sleep. | |
| After a moment he sighs and moves to his bed, where his | |
| wife Gorgo sleeps soundly, the sheet down to her waist, | |
| revealing her strong feminine back, which shines with the | |
| warmth of August. Leonidas sits at the edge of the bed and | |
| lightly traces his finger along the contours of her body. | |
| She stirs, and now, sleepily, she stares up at him. | |
| GORGO | |
| Your lips can finish what your | |
| fingers have started ... Or has the | |
| Oracle robbed you of your desire as | |
| well? | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| It would take more than words of a | |
| drunken adolescent girl to rob me | |
| of my desire for you. | |
| Gorgo smiles. The curls of her black hair fall softly | |
| across her neck and collarbone. | |
| GORGO | |
| Then why so distant? | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Because it seems, though a slave | |
| and captive of lecherous old men, | |
| the Oracle's words could set fire | |
| to all that I love. | |
| She reaches up to him, laying her hand to the side of his | |
| face. | |
| GORGO | |
| So that is why my King loses sleep | |
| and is forced from the warmth of | |
| his bed. | |
| Gorgo furrows her brow in mock concern. | |
| GORGO | |
| There's only one woman's words that | |
| should affect the mood of my | |
| husband ... and those are mine. | |
| He smiles, if only briefly. He is in pain and she can see | |
| it. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| 20. | |
| What must a King do to save his | |
| world, when the very laws he has | |
| sworn to protect, force him to do | |
| nothing? | |
| Gorgo sits up. She is tender, yet intense. She looks into | |
| his eyes for a moment, then her expression softens. | |
| GORGO | |
| It is not a question of what a | |
| Spartan citizen should do, nor a | |
| husband, nor a King. Instead ask | |
| yourself, my dearest love, what | |
| should a free man do? | |
| He looks at her. They are close. The moment stretches and | |
| he smiles. They kiss and fall back onto the bed. This is | |
| love between a Spartan King and his Queen. Their skin is | |
| wet. Their mouths hunger. Their muscles flex. It is not | |
| soft. It is passion personified. They love as they live. | |
| 19 EXT. SPARTAN BARRACKS 19 | |
| The sky is pale and clear to the east as 300 Spartans hold | |
| rank in a field of golden wheat. Leonidas and his Captain | |
| walk past the familiar face of Dilios, who nods to his | |
| king. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Is this all of them? | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| As you ordered. 300 with born sons | |
| to carry on their name. | |
| A Spartan named STELIOS (28), lean and hard-bodied, speaks | |
| up from the line of soldiers. | |
| STELIOS | |
| We are with you, sir, to the death. | |
| The Captain turns and barks at Stelios. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Hold your tongue, boy? Or I'll take | |
| you at your word. | |
| Leonidas makes eye contact with Stelios, then points to a | |
| young Spartan, with the soft face of a child near the rear | |
| of the pack. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| 21. | |
| He is your own and too young to | |
| have felt a woman's warmth. | |
| Leonidas stands before the baby-faced warrior. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| I have others to replace him. | |
| The Captain stands next to his King, and glances into the | |
| eyes of his son, ASTINOS (18). | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| He is as brave and ready as any. No | |
| younger than we were the first time | |
| you stood next to me in battle. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| You are a good friend, but a better | |
| Captain, there is not. | |
| Leonidas places his hand on the Captain's shoulder, as if | |
| to mark his selfless act. | |
| In the morning light, a group of COUNCILMEN are led forward | |
| by Theron. | |
| ELDER COUNCILMAN | |
| My good King, the Oracle has | |
| spoken. | |
| The group stands before Leonidas, trying to gain his | |
| attention. | |
| COUNCILMAN | |
| The Ephors have spoken. There must | |
| be no march. | |
| Leonidas continues to view his men with a disciplined eye. | |
| THERON | |
| The law, my Lord. The Spartan Army | |
| must not go to War. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Nor shall it. You worry over | |
| nothing. | |
| Theron and the councilmen view the assembly of warriors. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| I have issued no such orders. These | |
| 300 are my personal bodyguards. Our | |
| army will stay in Sparta. | |
| 22. | |
| Leonidas looks away from his 300, to his Queen and child | |
| who have now joined the group. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| We'll head North. | |
| Gorgo pulls her son into her hip. | |
| GORGO | |
| The Hot Gates. | |
| Leonidas looks at his family. | |
| ELDER COUNCILMAN | |
| What do we do? | |
| THERON | |
| What can we do? | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| You will listen to your queen in my | |
| absence. The throne of Sparta rests | |
| with her. | |
| Leonidas lifts his shield and looks back at his 300 men. | |
| The Captain nods that his men are ready. Leonidas calls | |
| back to the Spartan Councilmen. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| What can you do? Sparta will need | |
| sons. | |
| Leonidas moves toward his men, to begin their long march | |
| North. | |
| GORGO | |
| Spartan! | |
| Leonidas turns to his wife's voice. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Yes, my lady. | |
| The Queen walks to him, lifting from her neck the simple | |
| leather necklace, attached is a wolf fang. Her husband's | |
| first boyhood enemy. | |
| GORGO | |
| Come back with your shield... or on | |
| it. | |
| Leonidas bows slightly, as she passes the necklace over his | |
| head. | |
| 23. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Yes, my lady. | |
| There are no tears from her eyes, nor trembling in his | |
| voice. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Goodbye, my love. He doesn't say | |
| it. There is no room for softness, | |
| not in Sparta. No place for | |
| weakness. | |
| Leonidas and his 300 start to march from Sparta. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Only the hard and strong may call | |
| themselves Spartans. | |
| The King knows he will never see her again. He will never | |
| see Sparta again. | |
| They march on! | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Only the hard. Only the strong. | |
| 20 EXT. MOUNTAINS NEAR SPARTA 20 | |
| On a distant blade of rock, a LONE FIGURE, hobbled and | |
| bent, follows the Spartans as they move across the golden | |
| fields. | |
| 21 EXT. MOUNTAIN FOOTHILLS 21 | |
| WE HEAR: the sound of twin FLUTES and goat hide sandals | |
| against soil. In silence, they march over the sharp rocks | |
| and earth, looming steadily, weaving a small shapeless mass | |
| of men North. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| We march. For our lands. For our | |
| families. For our freedoms. | |
| On the broken ridgeline more men appear, other pockets of | |
| strong Hoplites from city-states that have heard the call | |
| to war. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Noisy Arcadians greet us with noisy | |
| complaints. | |
| 24. | |
| Leonidas leads his men and greets the Arcadians. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Daxos, a pleasant surprise. | |
| DAXOS, a tree trunk of a man, circular shield strapped his | |
| back, leads the Arcadian force. | |
| DAXOS | |
| This morning's full of surprises, | |
| Leonidas. | |
| His men look at the small Spartan numbers and begin to | |
| murmur among themselves. | |
| ARCADIANS | |
| We have been tricked ... There | |
| can't be more than a few hundred of | |
| them ... This is a surprise ... | |
| DAXOS | |
| Silence. | |
| The men settle and listen... listen carefully to the words | |
| that will come. | |
| DAXOS | |
| We were told Sparta was on the | |
| warpath! We were eager to join | |
| forces. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| If it is blood you seek, you are | |
| welcome to join us. | |
| Daxos scans the Spartans, counting quickly the rows of men, | |
| unmoving under the weight of their armor as if carved from | |
| the mountain itself. | |
| DAXOS | |
| But you bring only this handful | |
| against Xerxes? I see I was wrong | |
| to expect Sparta's commitment to at | |
| least match our own! | |
| Leonidas sits atop a smooth, moss-covered stone. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Doesn't it? | |
| Leonidas glances to the Arcadians. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| 25. | |
| You there. What is your profession? | |
| A small-framed ARCADIAN steps forward. | |
| ARCADIAN #1 | |
| I am a potter, sir. | |
| Leonidas points to another. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| And you, Arcadian. What is your | |
| profession? | |
| Another Arcadian responds from group. | |
| ARCADIAN #2 | |
| A sculptor, sir. | |
| Leonidas points again to the crowd. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| And you? | |
| ARCADIAN #3 | |
| A blacksmith. | |
| Again the King points. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| You? | |
| ARCADIAN114 | |
| A baker. | |
| Leonidas stands, turning to his 300. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Spartans! What is your profession? | |
| From the silent mass of Spartan muscle, 300 spears and | |
| swords are raised to the sky, a collective battle cry exits | |
| each, thunder and fire that spits forth from their bellies. | |
| SPARTANS | |
| Haaawooo! | |
| The Spartan weapons lower and raise again and again each | |
| time the men grow louder with their chant of war. | |
| SPARTANS | |
| Haaawooo! | |
| 26. | |
| Leonidas nods softly at his men and turns to Daxos. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| You see, old friend? I brought more | |
| soldiers than you did. | |
| 22 INT. GORGO'S PRIVATE GARDEN - SPARTA - DUSK 22 | |
| On the ground, simple oil-fed cauldrons burn bright, | |
| casting shadows that dance along the branches of olive | |
| trees. Gorgo meets with a Spartan LOYALIST near the | |
| garden's roughly chiseled steps. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| Is such secrecy needed? | |
| GORGO | |
| When is one to trust beyond the | |
| walls of their own home? Even here, | |
| Theron has eyes and ears that fuel | |
| Sparta with doubt and fear. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| Don't worry. Leonidas and his men | |
| are strong. | |
| GORGO | |
| It is not his strength that worries | |
| me ... if Xerxes is not stopped ... | |
| LOYALIST | |
| He will be stopped. | |
| GORGO | |
| If Persians advance beyond the | |
| narrows to the North, they will | |
| leave no one to tell our story. | |
| They will grind Spartan bones to | |
| flour and serve them to their Army. | |
| The Loyalist reflects on the Queen's words. | |
| GORGO | |
| I now bear the weight of the king's | |
| responsibility. If Leonidas fights | |
| for what he believes, so must I, | |
| here in Sparta. | |
| Gorgo stands beneath an arbor of lavender. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| 27. | |
| I can arrange for you to speak to | |
| the Council. Many would vote to | |
| commit all we have and follow | |
| Leonidas, but you must show them | |
| favor, explain why their King would | |
| betray the law of his land. | |
| GORGO | |
| Laws created by men who have never | |
| shown valor. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| Is it recklessness or valor? | |
| Without reason the Council can | |
| believe either. | |
| Gorgo watches a Spartan guard on horseback ride out of the | |
| city into the blackness of night. | |
| GORGO | |
| I will go to the Council, and if it | |
| is reason they want, I will let | |
| them know. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| Know what, my Queen? | |
| GORGO | |
| How precious this liberty we enjoy | |
| is. Why freedom isn't free at all. | |
| It comes with the highest of costs. | |
| The cost of blood. | |
| The Loyalist nods in agreement with his Queen. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| I'll bring together the city's | |
| council, and its chamber will be | |
| filled by your voice. | |
| The Loyalist gathers himself and readies to leave. | |
| GORGO | |
| Why do you do this? | |
| LOYALIST | |
| Leonidas is my King, as well as | |
| yours. | |
| The Loyalist bows his head and goes without sound, leaving | |
| the Queen to view the stars that spread across the obsidian | |
| night. | |
| 28. | |
| 23 EXT. GREEK WAR CAMP - NIGHT 23 | |
| Most Spartans sleep, huddled near each other, laying over | |
| their bronze shields like massive rag dolls of war. | |
| The Captain moves across the campsite to Leonidas. They | |
| watch the bursts of dying sparks jump out of the flames and | |
| vanish. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| No sleep tonight? | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Not for the King. | |
| Leonidas studies the fire. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Too restless ... eager as a youth | |
| ... eager as a beardless wet-nosed | |
| cadet for battle. | |
| Leonidas looks towards his men and then back to the | |
| Captain. They share a moment and nod, a moment only shared | |
| and understood by men who have given themselves fully to | |
| one thing their whole lives. Leonidas' voice quiets. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| All my forty years have been a | |
| straight road to this one gleaming | |
| moment in destiny. This one radiant | |
| clash of shield and spear and sword | |
| and bone and flesh and blood. | |
| Leonidas returns to the fire, watching it dance. The King's | |
| eyes close for a moment. Just a dream of sleep would be | |
| enough. | |
| 24 EXT. PINDOS MOUNTAINS 24 | |
| The day has turned and grey mist rises in ghostly shapes | |
| from the spine of the mountains. The band of brothers | |
| descends through the merciless heat. Astinos points to the | |
| ridgeline. | |
| ASTINOS | |
| We are being followed. | |
| The silhouetted figure looms, watching the Spartans' | |
| progress. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| 29. | |
| It has followed us since Sparta. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| A Persian scout? | |
| The Spartans rest for a moment. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| No. Its stride is more beast than | |
| man. | |
| Stelios points to thin columns of black smoke on the blue | |
| horizon. | |
| STELIOS | |
| Look, my King. | |
| 25 EXT. GREEK VILLAGE 25 | |
| As the Spartans and Greeks enter. Buildings still smolder | |
| and fall to ash. A complete wasteland, void of hope and | |
| song, filled with smell of slaughtered livestock and the | |
| dead. | |
| STELIOS | |
| What happened here? Where are the | |
| people? | |
| Leonidas scans the details of the destruction. Footprints | |
| in the wet earth, hooves of strange beasts, torn bits of a | |
| peasant's dress. Leonidas crouches, tracing with his finger | |
| the claw-like footprints in the blood-soaked earth. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Persians. | |
| The Captain kneels next to Leonidas after surveying the | |
| scene. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| I put their numbers at around | |
| twenty. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| A scouting party ... But these | |
| footprints ... What could have ... | |
| STELIOS | |
| A child! | |
| 30. | |
| The Spartans turn to see the naked form of a CHILD. A | |
| phantom, her thin pale body, covered in dirt and dried | |
| blood. The mass of Greek warriors part as she moves between | |
| them and stands before Leonidas in silence. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Water. | |
| CHILD | |
| It's quiet now ... They ... they | |
| came with beasts from the blackness | |
| ... monsters ... dark-skinned ... | |
| cold eyes ... from my nightmares. | |
| The Child is stoic in her telling of the tale. | |
| CHILD | |
| With their claws and fangs they | |
| grabbed them ... everyone ... | |
| everyone but me. | |
| SPARTAN | |
| I've found them. | |
| A Spartan points to a massive wind-blown tree at the top of | |
| a hill. | |
| The Child collapses at the feet of the King. Leonidas | |
| slowly lifts her into his arms. | |
| He closes the eyes of the lifeless child and looks towards | |
| the lone ancient tree. Where VILLAGERS, MAN, WOMAN,CHILD | |
| have been strung out like Christmas ornaments, hundreds of | |
| Persian arrows pierced through their limbs and bodies. | |
| STELIOS | |
| Have the gods no mercy! | |
| DAXOS | |
| We are doomed. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Quiet yourself. | |
| The Spartans and free Greeks move slowly towards the | |
| haunting tree. Leonidas stands without expression, holding | |
| the dead child. | |
| DAXOS | |
| 31. | |
| The child speaks of the Persian | |
| ghosts, knows from the ancient | |
| times, bound by the myth and magic | |
| of the night ... They are the | |
| hunters of men's souls. | |
| Some of the Greeks nervously look at each other. | |
| DAXOS | |
| They cannot be killed or defeated, | |
| not this darkness, not these | |
| immortals. | |
| Leonidas lays the small child's frame at the base of the | |
| tree. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Immortals? We will put their name | |
| to the test. | |
| 26 EXT. HOT GATES - SUNSET 26 | |
| Leonidas pauses, watching the men stream down past him into | |
| the narrow canyon called the Hot Gate. The WIND HOWLS | |
| through the ancient cut in the mountains and the crimson | |
| Spartan capes ... | |
| ... SNAP like flags. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| We march ... from Lakonia ... from | |
| sacred Sparta ... we march ... for | |
| Honor's sake ... for Glory's sake | |
| ... we march ... Into hell's | |
| mouth.we march. | |
| Leonidas nods to a few passing brothers, dust swirls as the | |
| Captain and his son pass. Leonidas and the Captain share a | |
| moment which causes the Captain to slap a strong hand on | |
| his son's back, smile at him, a father and son joined in | |
| battle, and then turns back to Leonidas. The look of pride | |
| still on his face. | |
| The Captain makes his way through the current of soldiers | |
| to stand next to his King, his friend. | |
| As the troops thunder past, the two survey the landscape | |
| for a moment, looking down through the Hot Gates to the | |
| ocean. Dilios stops and points into the far distance. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Look! Persians! | |
| 32. | |
| Countless Persian ships bob like toys on an angry sea, | |
| pulling down distant sails in preparation for a coming | |
| storm. Black bellies of clouds mix with the last light of | |
| day. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Did you know the God King Xerxes | |
| requires no less than 8,000 slaves | |
| to move and assemble his personal | |
| compound. That the zoo of animals | |
| that accompany him consume over 100 | |
| tons of wheat, hay and meat a day. | |
| That their Persian war brothel is | |
| contained in over 80 tents and its | |
| number of concubines, goats and war | |
| boys outnumber us 3 to 1. And that | |
| the column of carts that bear the | |
| skins and barrels of fermented | |
| barley and wine is over 15 miles | |
| long. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Well, at least we'll die with the | |
| stench of Persian whores on our | |
| cocks and the taste of Persian wine | |
| on our lips. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Die perhaps ... or live forever. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| An optimist. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| I can afford to be ... I've got you | |
| on my side. | |
| The Captain nods to his friend as the nearing soldiers | |
| clamor by ... | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| You do indeed. The burden of | |
| Kingship you bear alone, but our | |
| friendship we bear together. | |
| Dilios takes a few steps past Leonidas, following the men | |
| who head down to the sea, then turns back to them. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Come, let's watch these motherless | |
| dogs as they are embraced by the | |
| loving arms of Greece herself. | |
| 33. | |
| Leonidas takes a look at the sky and then back to the | |
| Persian fleet. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| True, it does look like rain. | |
| 27 EXT. SEA CLIFF 27 | |
| Lightning flashes across a violent sky, exploding the mast | |
| of a Persian trireme. The vessel is tossed on giant SURF, | |
| CRASHING it into the rocky coast. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Let the others scurry for cover. We | |
| rush to bear witness. The Gods | |
| play. Zeus stabs the sky with | |
| thunderbolts. Boreas howls, | |
| bullied... and batters the sea with | |
| hurricane wind. | |
| Daxos joins Leonidas and his men as they stand above the | |
| sea on the cliff watching as one after another, the Persian | |
| fleet is smashed in SLOWMOTION, to kindling. Below, another | |
| bolt of lightning briefly illuminates faces of the | |
| countless drowning slave oarsmen gasping for breath among | |
| the splintered timbers of the Persian Armada. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Poseidon rises, rudely awakened, | |
| furious, his surf clawing at the | |
| stars. | |
| The RAIN POUNDS against Leonidas' shield like war drums as | |
| he drinks in the carnage below. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Glorious. | |
| Behind Leonidas, his men laugh. Cries of jubilation are | |
| heard. The men embrace and Daxos raises his fist in victory | |
| as another massive Persian ship explodes onto the rocks and | |
| again the surf surges made viscous by flesh and wood. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Laughter, song and praise for the | |
| Gods that will continue to the next | |
| day's dawn. | |
| Then another flash of lightning as the men behind dance | |
| with time suspended, in ecstasy of jubilation. Leonidas, | |
| jaw set, face cold, stern and motionless, says nothing. | |
| 34. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Only one among us keeps his Spartan | |
| reserve. | |
| Leonidas slowly lowers his shield, allowing the rain to run | |
| down his unmoving face. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Only he. | |
| THUNDER mixed with laughter and the pounding sea. The | |
| distant cries of a host of drowning Persians. Leonidas | |
| lifts his chin in slow motion to the rain and closes his | |
| eyes, breathes the salty air and turns back through his men | |
| to the Spartan camp. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Only our King. | |
| 28 EXT. NEAR THE PERSIAN CAMP - DAWN 28 | |
| A handful of Spartans moves silently through the misty | |
| forest at a pace impossibly fast for the lack of sound. No | |
| helmets, no shields. | |
| FLASHES of red and steel between the trunks of mountain | |
| pines. | |
| A Spartan points to the edge of a bluff just in front of | |
| them, the forest silhouetted by the bright sky, telling | |
| Daxos they have reached the overlook they had ventured into | |
| the woods to find. | |
| He crawls on his belly until he is next to the Spartans who | |
| lie at the cliff's edge looking down on the Persian | |
| encampment. Daxos' breath catches in his throat as terror | |
| grips him staring down on the camp of his enemy. | |
| WE SEE: the greatest gathering of men and animals the world | |
| has ever seen, for the valley below him, which stretches | |
| five miles across, bordered on one side by the sea and on | |
| the other by the mountains, contains from edge to edge a | |
| city of tents complete with roads that team with people and | |
| carts and horse and creatures no Greek eye has seen before. | |
| At the coast, countless thousands of ships are being | |
| unloaded and tended to. Vast legions of men march this way | |
| and that, the smoke from the tens of thousands of fires has | |
| created a cloud of black that drifts and clings over the | |
| nearby mountains. | |
| DAXOS | |
| 35. | |
| I saw those ships smashed on the | |
| rocks. How can this be? | |
| SPARTAN | |
| We saw but a fraction of the | |
| monster that is Xerxes' army. | |
| The Spartan smiles, shaking his head at the sheer | |
| spectacle. | |
| DAXOS | |
| We are doomed. There can be no | |
| victory here. Why do you smile? | |
| SPARTAN | |
| Arcadian, I have fought countless | |
| times ... Yet I have never met an | |
| adversary who could offer me what | |
| we Spartans call a Beautiful Death. | |
| I can only hope with all the | |
| world's warriors gathered against | |
| us that there might be one down | |
| there who's up to the task. | |
| With that he slaps a hand on Daxos' back and laughs. | |
| 29 EXT. MOUNTAIN FOOTHILLS 29 | |
| WE SEE: a form, half-man/half-unknown, who has followed | |
| Leonidas. Its hunched back, gruesome and abstract, face | |
| rutted and worn like leather. EPHIALTES moves with a broken | |
| gait, mouth shaped like a gunshot wound, eyes uneven, wild | |
| with determination. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Honored father ... Smile down upon | |
| me from your place of rest. This | |
| day your son will prove himself. | |
| Ephialtes' feet trample over the wild scrub and withered | |
| flowers sheathed in dust. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| I will show you that you were not | |
| wrong to protect me. I will show | |
| you that I am worthy. | |
| Ephialtes stops at the edge of a high cliff, cupping his | |
| misshapen hand towards his face, inhaling deeply, smelling, | |
| questioning the air itself. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| 36. | |
| Bastards. | |
| WE HEAR: the sound of TROOPS marching in the distance. | |
| A PERSIAN GENERAL carried atop a golden throne, surrounded | |
| by BODYGUARDS. He whips his slaves and pushes them on. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Persian bastards! We'll kill all of | |
| you. | |
| Ephialtes grits his teeth and growls at the passing Persian | |
| display. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| We Spartans will destroy you. | |
| 30 EXT. HOT GATES - DAWN 30 | |
| Morning calisthenics. Leonidas leans on his spear, | |
| watching. A summer WIND blows cool off the Aegean. Bodies | |
| straight, teeth clenched at the zenith of a military push | |
| up, they hold that pose. | |
| On each of their backs stands another Spartan with shield, | |
| helmet, spear and cape. Muscles shake and quiver under 200 | |
| pounds of men and armor. | |
| Daxos rushes into the Spartan campsite. Leonidas turns from | |
| his men who can be heard in the b.g. | |
| Leonidas is calm, almost pleasant. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Daxos, you're up early for an | |
| Arcadian. | |
| Daxos is scared, he points in the direction of the sea. | |
| DAXOS | |
| A Persian General approaches. You | |
| should come and speak to him. It is | |
| our one chance for survival. | |
| The King nods slowly at Daxos. | |
| DAXOS | |
| You are the King. Your men are ill- | |
| prepared for the delicate matters | |
| of state. I fear the welcome that | |
| this ambassador will receive and | |
| the message it sends to Xerxes. | |
| 37. | |
| Leonidas smiles at Daxos. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| No, on second thought, I am busy. | |
| My boys will meet him at the wall | |
| and I think you will find them | |
| quite prepared to show him a proper | |
| Spartan welcome. | |
| 31 EXT. SEASIDE ROAD 31 | |
| Persians advance up the primitive highway. The Persian | |
| General's gold litter, carried by twelve slaves at a dead | |
| run, suddenly slows as it approaches the Hot Gates. Fear | |
| grips the dark-skinned slaves who carry the General. | |
| More afraid of what they see than the General's whip. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Perhaps King Xerxes sent his | |
| General to negotiate our surrender. | |
| Or perhaps he wonders why he has | |
| not heard from his scouts. | |
| As they round the last bend, the Hot Gates still in the | |
| distance, they are greeted by two dozen dead Persian | |
| scouts. Each impaled by a spear so that it protrudes from | |
| his mouth. The shafts of the spears inside their bodies | |
| cause them to sit upright. | |
| The dead scouts adorn the rocks and dirt mounds, a signpost | |
| to the General that he is headed in the right direction. | |
| His handful of bodyguards are frozen as they stare at the | |
| gruesome display. | |
| 32 EXT. MOUNTAIN FOOTHILLS 32 | |
| Ephialtes watches the Persian General and his column of men | |
| fade into the distance. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Destroy them, right up their camel- | |
| callused backsides. | |
| Ephialtes spins and thrusts the sky with his. spear in mock | |
| battle. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Blessed Spartans! The boldest of | |
| men. The finest warriors in all the | |
| world! | |
| 38. | |
| He turns and opens his stride across the sharp rocks. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| They will accept me. They must | |
| accept me. Father! Beloved Mother! | |
| You will see that you were right to | |
| protect me. | |
| And now the creature runs. | |
| The path is strange and solemn. Among the ferns and | |
| mountain oaks, granite shelves, ragged escarpments of stone | |
| and earth braced by the invisible hands of the Gods | |
| themselves. | |
| He runs to warn his Spartans. | |
| 33 EXT. WALL OF THE DEAD 33 | |
| Near the entrance to the Hot Gates. The Persian General | |
| half-stands out of the ornate chair, borne on the shoulders | |
| of bleeding slaves, to better see who among his enemies are | |
| gathered at the wall which now acts as a barrier, funneling | |
| would-be attackers into the Hot Gates. | |
| A large group of Spartans work at putting the finishing | |
| touches to the wall. Stelios puts a large rock in place at | |
| the top of the wall and, already sweating hard, glances at | |
| the approaching General who calls up to him. | |
| GENERAL | |
| You there! Who commands here? | |
| Stelios stares down at him, then to the water below. He | |
| takes a breath and leaps fifty feet to the sea. His form is | |
| perfect. The General watches as he hits the water headfirst | |
| with barely a splash. | |
| The General looks at the men as they work on the wall. No | |
| one has stopped. The General stands, frustrated, on the | |
| platform supported by slaves, and calls again to the men | |
| working on the wall. | |
| GENERAL | |
| I am the emissary of the Ruler of | |
| all the World, the God of Gods, the | |
| King of Kings and I demand by that | |
| authority that you show me your | |
| commander. | |
| One or two of the Arcadians look over their shoulders at | |
| the Persian General. | |
| 39. | |
| GENERAL | |
| Listen and learn, Spartans. I am | |
| tired of your petulance. | |
| Stelios climbs the cliff face up out of the salt water. He | |
| leans against a boulder and begins sharpening his sword | |
| with a found stone. | |
| GENERAL | |
| Do you think that the paltry dozen | |
| you slew scares us or means | |
| anything to us? They are nothing to | |
| the great Xerxes. Why, these hills | |
| swarm with our scouts. They watch | |
| us even now. They move like | |
| shadows. | |
| The men still work, moving the rocks, handing them to one | |
| another, ignoring the Persian General, who laughs a one- | |
| breath laugh and looks to his nervous men. He then points | |
| at the wall. | |
| GENERAL | |
| Do you think your pathetic wall | |
| will do anything except fall like a | |
| heap of dry leaves in the face of | |
| ... | |
| His words catch in his throat as he sees that the wall | |
| before them is built not just out of stone. | |
| WE SEE: Jammed between the boulders and rocks are the | |
| heads, limbs, and bodies of countless Persian scouts. Even | |
| their horses have not been spared. Their faces in grim | |
| crimson and black clotted blood against the gray of stones. | |
| The General and his-horrified bodyguards scan the wall | |
| which looms before them. A monument to death. | |
| Stelios lowers his chin, glides his sharpening stone one | |
| last time down the length of his BLADE which -- | |
| RINGS with sparks and the song of iron on stone. The | |
| General struggles for something to say. | |
| STELIOS | |
| Our ancestors built this wall using | |
| ancient stones from the bosom of | |
| Greece herself and, with a little | |
| Spartan help, you Persians supplied | |
| the mortar. | |
| GENERAL | |
| You will pay for your barbarism. | |
| 40. | |
| And with that, he loads his whip to strike. Stelios, | |
| without hesitation, closes the distance to the General in a | |
| heartbeat. Rising in a powerful leap, his freshly sharpened | |
| sword FLASHES through the General's arm at the elbow. | |
| The General's litter crashes to the ground. His slaves dive | |
| for the protection of nearby rocks. Stelios stands over the | |
| General as he grips his stump in pain, blood pumping | |
| between his fingers. Each of his bodyguards frozen at spear | |
| point by the now agitated Spartans. | |
| GENERAL | |
| My arm! | |
| STELIOS | |
| It's not yours anymore. Go now. Run | |
| along and tell your Xerxes he faces | |
| free men here. Not Slaves. Do it | |
| quickly before we decide to make | |
| this wall just a little bit bigger. | |
| The General breathes a labored breath, swallows hard and | |
| narrows his brow. | |
| GENERAL | |
| Not slaves, no. Your women will be | |
| slaves, though. Your sons and | |
| daughters, and elders will be | |
| slaves. But not you. By noon this | |
| day you will be dead men. | |
| Stelios is unmoved by the General's speech. | |
| GENERAL | |
| One hundred nations of the Persian | |
| Empire descend upon you. | |
| The General is helped back to his golden perch and his | |
| slaves shoulder his lighter weight. He turns one last time, | |
| to the massive wall, to the men that built it, and the | |
| butcher that took his arm. | |
| GENERAL | |
| Our arrows will blot out the sun. | |
| Stelios never changes his expression. His eyes are as cold | |
| as the bracing AEGEAN which CRASHES relentlessly on the | |
| cliffs below. | |
| STELIOS | |
| Then we will fight in the shade. | |
| 41. | |
| 34 EXT. COASTAL HILLS 34 | |
| Leonidas and his Captain watch as the Persian Ambassador | |
| retreats back to Xerxes and his legions. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| The wall is solid. It will do the | |
| job of channeling the Persians into | |
| the Hot Gates, and the rest of our | |
| defenses are nearly complete. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Captain, have the men found any | |
| route through the hills to our | |
| back? | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| None, sir. | |
| Atop the brown stones and pale ground stands Ephialtes, | |
| like a broken creature. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| There is such a route, good King. | |
| Ephialtes lowers his bronze shield to reveal his entire | |
| body. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Just past that western ridge. It's | |
| an old goat path. The Persians | |
| could use it to outflank us. | |
| The Captain steps forward and levels his spear at | |
| Ephialtes' frame. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Not one step closer, Monster. | |
| Ephialtes bows his head towards Leonidas. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Wise King, I humbly request an | |
| audience. | |
| The Captain stands firm. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| I'll skewer you where you stand! | |
| Leonidas lowers his spear in front of the Captain's chest, | |
| stopping him from advancing towards Ephialtes. | |
| 42. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| I gave no such order. | |
| The Captain looks to his King away slowly, and backs | |
| watching Ephialtes as he returns to his men who prepare for | |
| the Persians. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Forgive the Captain. He is a good | |
| soldier ... but a bit short on | |
| manners. | |
| Ephialtes squints and shortens his gaze to Leonidas. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| There is nothing to forgive, brave | |
| King. I know what I look like. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| You wear the crimson of a Spartan. | |
| Ephialtes steps closer to the King, lifting his head with | |
| pride. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| I am Ephialtes, born of Sparta. My | |
| mother's love led my parents to | |
| flee Sparta, lest I be discarded. | |
| My father became a shepherd ... but | |
| he taught me the warrior's way. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Your weapons and armor? | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| My father's, sir. | |
| Silence lays between the King and the eager soul. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| I beg you, bold King, to permit me | |
| to redeem my father's name by | |
| serving you ... in combat. | |
| Leonidas leans onto a smooth, cool stone. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| You will see ... Day and night my | |
| father trained me. | |
| Ephialtes opens his stance and twirls the shaft of his | |
| spear, blurring the speed of its arc. | |
| 43. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| To feel no fear ... to show no pain | |
| ... to make spear and shield and | |
| sword as much a part of me as my | |
| own beating heart. | |
| Ephialtes jabs his spear towards Persian camps in the the | |
| distance, breathing, growling at the imaginary men that | |
| fall before him. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| You see? My arms are strong and my | |
| reach is long. I will earn my | |
| father's armor, noble King ... and | |
| reclaim my family's honor. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| A fine thrust ... | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| I will kill many Persians! | |
| Leonidas stands, shadow towering over the warped form of | |
| Ephialtes. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Raise your shield! | |
| Ephialtes stops his attack. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Sir? | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Raise your shield as high as you | |
| can. | |
| Ephialtes lifts the shield. He is half hidden behind the | |
| circle of hammered bronze. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Your father should have taught you | |
| how our Phalanx works. We fight as | |
| a single impenetrable unit. That is | |
| the source of our strength. | |
| Leonidas demonstrates the defensive stance. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Each Spartan protects the man to | |
| his left from thigh to neck with | |
| his shield. A single weak spot ... | |
| and the phalanx shatters. | |
| 44. | |
| Leonidas takes his hand to the top of Ephialtes' shield and | |
| measures the height, a good two feet shy of the needed | |
| mark. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| From thigh to neck, Ephialtes. | |
| The King shakes his head slowly as Ephialtes lowers his | |
| shield. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| I am sorry, my friend, not all of | |
| us are made to be soldiers. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| But I ... | |
| Leonidas places his hand on the shoulder of Ephialtes. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| If you want to help Sparta in its | |
| victory, you can clear the | |
| battlefield of the dead, tend the | |
| wounded, bring them water, but as | |
| for the fight itself, I cannot use | |
| you. | |
| The King turns quietly away and heads down the slope of | |
| limestone towards his 300. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Mother, Father, you were wrong. | |
| Ephialtes turns away, towards the cliff's edge. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| You are wrong, Leonidas. You are | |
| wrong! | |
| But the King continues, growing smaller in the distance. | |
| Ephialtes turns and leaps from the cliff, disappearing from | |
| the high outcropping of rock, making not another sound. | |
| The Captain watches as Leonidas crosses the folds of rock, | |
| windblown brush, shade-dappled grass, fine as thread. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| (to the Captain) | |
| Dispatch the Phocians to the goat | |
| path and pray to the Gods that | |
| nobody tells the Persians about it. | |
| 45. | |
| The Earth begins to shake and lift, rocks loosen and | |
| cascade down the cliff face. The Spartans and the other | |
| Greeks steady themselves. | |
| The distant RUMBLING GROWS... STRONGER... LOUDER! | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Battle formations! | |
| Without hesitation the Spartan guard and others move | |
| quickly, grabbing their weapons. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| For a beast approaches ... savoring | |
| the meal to come. | |
| 36 EXT. PERSIAN ENCAMPMENT 36 | |
| And from the very sea itself, the Persian tents and rally- | |
| points empty and break ground. They charge upwards through | |
| the valley. They come in hordes, forward, fast, over the | |
| rocks and shallows, they race on. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| A force of men so massive it shakes | |
| the earth with its march. | |
| Brown bearded forms, chest panels of crocodile cover ragged | |
| men, smoothed leather head covers adorned with seashells | |
| and human bones. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| An Army so vast ... beyond | |
| imagining. | |
| The Persians flow upward, through the valley floor and | |
| foothills of the mountains. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Poised to devour tiny Greece. | |
| Like locusts the Persians swarm over the land, destroying | |
| beneath their advance all that holds life. Nothing is | |
| spared. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| To snuff out the world's one hope | |
| for reason and justice. | |
| 37 EXT. HOT GATES 37 | |
| 46. | |
| Armor is lifted. Leonidas runs forward, leading from the | |
| front. The Captain and his 300 follow him down the broken | |
| path. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Follow your King. | |
| Stelios lets out a battle cry that ECHOES off the steep | |
| rock faces on either side of him. Dilios and the Captain's | |
| son join him as they drop down along the funnel of stone. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Earn your shields, boys. | |
| They fork around obstacles, flow down en masse toward the | |
| Hot Gates. Over rocks they leap. Today there is no need to | |
| hunt ... the Spartan prey is before them ... one million of | |
| them! | |
| 38 EXT. WALLOF THE DEAD 38 | |
| WE HEAR: The sounds of HOOVES and HORSES, like distant | |
| thunder, GROWINGCLOSER! Blue-turbaned riders, atop sleek | |
| Arabian horses, dozens break the low hills and funnel past | |
| the wall of the dead. Now, hundreds of horses are in full | |
| gallop over the high grass. Riders lean forward on their | |
| mounts, eyes fierce, scanning for Greek blood. | |
| 39 EXT. HOT GATES 39 | |
| Leonidas settles himself as the rest of his men arrive. | |
| They form quickly around their King, quieting their racing | |
| hearts, and listen to his words over the Persian | |
| juggernaut. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| This is where we hold them! | |
| The Spartans watch as the earth moves and undulates, heaves | |
| forward, alive with forms dressed in loose silk and cloth. | |
| They carry curved swords, ivory-handled daggers tucked into | |
| belts of gold. Horsemen whip the infantry forward, while | |
| others reach into wicker quivers that hold arrows from the | |
| East. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| This is where we fight! | |
| 47. | |
| The Spartans lower their shields into a perfect phalanx, a | |
| solid wall of bronze from one side of the Hot Gates to the | |
| other. Each man protects the next, each with spear extended | |
| towards the Persian wave. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| This is where they die! | |
| The Persian funnel off the Wall of the Dead up the last | |
| steps of the Hot Gates. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Remember this day, men, for it will | |
| be yours for all time. | |
| A snow-white Arabian and RIDER slows ... the mass of | |
| Xerxes' machine of war slows ... as the golden shields of | |
| Leonidas and his Spartans are revealed. | |
| PERSIAN HORSEMAN | |
| Spartans! | |
| The air is heavy with the smells of leather, iron and | |
| sweat. Leonidas and his 300 do not move, only their breath | |
| can be heard against each other's backs. | |
| PERSIAN HORSEMAN | |
| Lay down your weapons! | |
| WE SEE: From the Wall of the Dead appears the slow arc of a | |
| single javelin through the air. It settles quickly into the | |
| chest of the Persian Horseman, toppling him from his mount, | |
| dead before he touches Greek soil. Leonidas narrows his | |
| eyes to his enemies. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Persians ... Come and get them! | |
| And with the defiance of the Gods themselves, Leonidas | |
| starts what many speak of but few have the heart for. | |
| WAR BEGINS! | |
| WE HEAR: First faint, then rising with the ranks, a low | |
| RUMBLING. Strange HORNS and CALLS TO WAR lift from the | |
| Persians, as if to warn of the Apocalypse that will follow. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Shoulder to shoulder. | |
| The Spartan phalanx snaps to a perfect oak and bronze wall | |
| of defense. | |
| 48. | |
| Beneath the hammered bronze, eyes locked forward, towards | |
| the howling enemy. | |
| The front rows of the Phalanx lower their lances of cornel | |
| wood and ash, eight feet from hand to razor-tipped end. | |
| This stand of men appears unworldly, as if some breathing | |
| metal beast that lays coiled, ready to attack. | |
| The force of Persian RAIDERS drops down the last open space | |
| and funnels straight to Leonidas and his men. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Hold. | |
| The Spartans brace for battle. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Give them nothing. | |
| Assyrians, Arabians, Bactrians, Cappadocians, Medes, | |
| Karians, Babylonians, Armenians, and other Asiatic tribes, | |
| a hundred nations thunder forward at the Spartan line. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| But take from them, everything. | |
| The Persians close within twenty yards of the forest of | |
| Spartan arms. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Steady, boys. | |
| CRASH! East meets West. Wicker meets bronze. | |
| The Spartan line grits its teeth against the massive | |
| Persian onslaught. Thousands of Persians push against the | |
| wall of Spartan bronze. Sandals slide, plowing the earth as | |
| Spartan feet are forced back. | |
| A Persian blade draws the first Spartan blood, grazing | |
| across the shoulder of a young Spartan. He cries out in | |
| anger, breathing hate into the Spartan will. | |
| Leonidas strains as he and his men finally slow the tide of | |
| silk and wicker, steel and dark skin. They find a foothold | |
| that stops their backwards movement, and all at once a | |
| thousand Persian eyes grow large with fear as Leonidas | |
| lowers his body, pushes forward, thrusting through Persians | |
| two at a time. | |
| 49. | |
| The Captain rolls over the enemy without pause. Piercing | |
| through the silk leggings, puncturing their lungs with such | |
| power that the air escapes the chest wounds in great | |
| geysers. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Push on!!! | |
| They push on, never breaking their impenetrable human wall. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Aaaahhhh! | |
| Dilios' jabs land, cutting into Persian throats, the cries | |
| of pain muffled as they fall under the trampling feet of | |
| Spartan advance. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Push!!!! | |
| They push on ... | |
| The Spartans gather strength from Greece herself, the | |
| invaders fall upon each other, one after the other. | |
| WE HEAR: The CRIES of men, strange tongues from foreign | |
| lands, GROANS and SCREAMS drift out and fall back to the | |
| lifeless bodies from which they came. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Clear ... to the right. | |
| Scared Persians, hearts pounding in hollow determination, | |
| fall quick prey to the skill of the Spartans. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| No prisoners! | |
| SPARTANS | |
| Haaawooo!!! | |
| They step and thrust, killing all before them. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| No mercy! | |
| SPARTANS | |
| Haaawooo!!!! | |
| A deafening advance, the Spartans repel the Persian | |
| discharge with ease, forcing the incalculable numbers | |
| backwards. | |
| 50. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| They look thirsty. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Give them something to drink, boys. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| To the cliffs! | |
| The Spartan phalanx jolts too. Electrified, they push their | |
| burnished defense, relentless, driving over Persian bodies, | |
| grinding towards the coastal cliffs. | |
| Leonidas lurches, skewering another. The rear columns of | |
| attacking Persians begin to fold and fall away, over the | |
| high cliff's edge and into the sea below. | |
| WE HEAR: Gasps of men without earth beneath them, falling | |
| forms. High-pitched wails and caterwauls bleed forth and | |
| crumple back onto the force as they are pushed over the | |
| rocky line. | |
| By the hundreds they fall, embroidered tunics and mail | |
| jackets tumble, continuous and measured screams sing out as | |
| the Persians distort and separate into the churning salty | |
| grave. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Hold. | |
| With the King's voice, the Spartans stop and watch the last | |
| Persian sail over the cliff face and disappear without a | |
| sound. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Hell of a good start. | |
| SPARTANS | |
| Haawooo! | |
| WE HEAR: Distant Arabian HORNS sound off. As a thousand | |
| HARPIES SCREECH and arrows cut loose. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Tuck tail! | |
| The Spartans drop to a knee and cover their bodies with the | |
| bronze shelter from the incoming storm. | |
| The first wave of bronze heads sink into the ground around | |
| Leonidas and his men. Shaft after shaft rains into the | |
| Spartan shields, momentarily obscuring the sun with their | |
| volume. | |
| 51. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Persian cowards. | |
| Bowmen reach into their quivers and send more missiles by | |
| the thousands, an attack of size and strength never seen by | |
| Leonidas and his men. | |
| Astinos crouches, laughing beneath his makeshift bronze | |
| roof. | |
| STELIOS | |
| What in the hell are you laughing | |
| at? | |
| ASTINOS | |
| You had to say it. | |
| Arrows pound off their shields, deflect, SHAFTS SNAP, they | |
| fall in a deluge, pinning Astinos' robe to the ground. | |
| STELIOS | |
| What? | |
| ASTINOS | |
| Fight in the shade. | |
| They both begin to laugh and now the others join in. As the | |
| last shrieking volley is cut loose ... All is silent, save | |
| the Spartans laughter on the battlefield. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Settle down. | |
| Leonidas looks to his Captain. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Let them laugh. It scares the fight | |
| out of our enemy. | |
| The Captain nods. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Recover. | |
| A cry erupts from the back of the Spartan formation. In the | |
| front position, Leonidas sees the mass of beast and men | |
| they now offer. His eyes widen to the sheer force and he | |
| sets his body for the impact. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| No heroes ... Today no Spartan | |
| dies! | |
| 52. | |
| Astinos looks to his Father. The Captain nods softly, a | |
| simple gesture of recognition that comforts his son before | |
| Hell arrives. | |
| Nostrils flare as the giant sand-colored beasts thunder | |
| down upon the Spartan line. | |
| The Captain locks his shield into his body. Stelios fights | |
| back fear, his breath quickening in time with the advancing | |
| mounts. | |
| An explosion of pure violence. | |
| Persians are thrown from their strange mounts, bodies | |
| trampled; sweat and blood runs freely. Terror carved and | |
| molded to each Persian face. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| We do what we were trained to do! | |
| The Spartans advance with tremendous velocity, half-naked | |
| forms, red ribbons, brilliant bronze armor rushing forward | |
| without pause. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| What we were bred to do! | |
| The Persians fight with curved swords, small war axes and | |
| hammers engraved with lions' heads. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| What we were born to do! | |
| It is as abstract as it is brutal. Persian men, torn limbs, | |
| unclothed bodies, crushed and bloody, wounded figures, | |
| empty hand-tooled saddles, beheaded camels, faceless masses | |
| clutching to breath and pulse, one by one falling again and | |
| again to Spartan endurance. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| No prisoners! No mercy! A good | |
| start. | |
| 41 EXT. SPARTAN MARKETPLACE - DAY 41 | |
| WE SEE: Gorgo and her son moving through the crowded | |
| marketplace. Pleistarchos playfully darts between stone | |
| columns and pools of bright sunlight. | |
| The two move in a loose pair past dark chambers, where | |
| BLACKSMITHS-- | |
| 53. | |
| -- POUND bronze and iron into blade and bowl. Potters shape | |
| red clay in vessels and plate. Gorgo stops at the mouth of | |
| an alley and calls to her son, who has disappeared behind a | |
| gaggle of HOUSEMAIDS, who bicker and gossip. | |
| GORGO | |
| I am not chasing after you. | |
| The Queen waits a moment and sighs. | |
| GORGO | |
| That's it, I'm leaving. Do you hear | |
| me? | |
| Gorgo turns down the alley shaking her head. She passes the | |
| red homespun fabric, freshly dyed, they hang drying in the | |
| midday sun. The shadows of the hanger bars flash across her | |
| face as she moves between the blood-red fabric walls into a | |
| small courtyard. Carved out of stone is a simple bearded | |
| face and out of the stone mouth, water flows, falling into | |
| a small pool. | |
| The Loyalist sits, ringing a rag out in the clear water and | |
| places it on his neck. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| I was afraid you might not come. | |
| He stands to his feet as Gorgo approaches. | |
| GORGO | |
| I'm sorry, my son ... is ... | |
| She turns back towards the alley. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| Doing what children do best. Please | |
| don't apologize. | |
| Gorgo relaxes a bit, made comfortable by the Loyalist's | |
| manner. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| He starts the Agoge next year. That | |
| is always a hard time for Spartan | |
| mothers. | |
| GORGO | |
| Yes ... it will be hard, but also | |
| necessary. | |
| The Loyalist ponders with a smile, remembering his time | |
| enduring the Spartan crucible. | |
| 54. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| In two days you will speak to the | |
| council. | |
| Gorgo answers quickly. | |
| GORGO | |
| My husband does not have two days. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| Leonidas has chosen his battles and | |
| so must you. These two days are a | |
| gift. | |
| The Queen nods. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| It's no secret that Theron wants | |
| what you control. It is his voice | |
| you must silence. Make an ally of | |
| him and you will have your victory. | |
| The moment hangs between them both. | |
| GORGO | |
| My son will be looking for me. | |
| Thank you ... You are as wise as | |
| you are kind. | |
| The Loyalist bows and moves off down a passageway. Gorgo | |
| turns to the fountain and splashes water on her face, | |
| relief from August heat. She pauses, letting the water pour | |
| over her hands, staring into the stone eyes of the | |
| fountain. From behind her, a voice. | |
| THERON | |
| There's your mother. | |
| Gorgo turns to find Theron and Pleistarchos. Her son's eyes | |
| are nervous as Theron grips his shoulders from behind. | |
| Gorgo moves towards them both; Theron lets her son go and | |
| he runs to her side. | |
| THERON | |
| You should keep a better eye on him | |
| if he is to be King one day. | |
| Gorgo pulls her son into her. Theron studies the faces of | |
| both Queen and son. | |
| THERON | |
| 55. | |
| It would be unfortunate if anything | |
| were to happen to him or his | |
| beautiful mother. | |
| Gorgo narrows her gaze at Theron. | |
| 42 EXT. HOT GATES - AFTERNOON 42 | |
| It is a vision of Hell on Earth. Thousands of Persian dead | |
| lay in heaps. The ground turned to mud by the countless | |
| gallons of blood. The Spartans work gathering weapons from | |
| the fallen and putting the few Persians whose injuries have | |
| not killed them, out of their misery. | |
| Leonidas and the Captain pull off their helmets. As they | |
| do, the Captain sees a Persian crawling among the nearby | |
| dead. He moves casually over to him. | |
| The Captain looks back toward Leonidas, tossing the King an | |
| apple. As Leonidas bites into it, the Captain puts a heavy | |
| foot on the Persian to steady him, then plunges a spear | |
| through his back. The Persian cries out, then dies. | |
| The Captain pulls his spear free and moves to the King. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| The Arcadians are itching for | |
| battle, sire. They're begging for a | |
| crack at the Persians. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Good! I've got something I think | |
| they can handle. Tell Daxos I want | |
| them eager, sober, and ready for | |
| the next charge. | |
| Stelios runs the last few yards right up to Leonidas and | |
| the Captain. | |
| STELIOS | |
| (breathing hard) | |
| King Leonidas. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Stelios, catch your breath, boy. | |
| Stelios puts his hands on his thighs and drops his head for | |
| a moment. | |
| STELIOS | |
| Yes, My Lord. | |
| 56. | |
| He breathes deeply, then swallows. | |
| STELIOS | |
| Persians approach, My Lord. A small | |
| contingent. Too small for an | |
| attack. | |
| Leonidas looks in the direction of Stelios' spear which he | |
| uses as a pointer. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Captain, you are in charge. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| But, Sire ... | |
| Leonidas smiles at the Captain. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Relax, old friend. If they | |
| assassinate me, all of Sparta goes | |
| to war. | |
| Leonidas becomes more serious, his voice lowers. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Pray they're that stupid ... pray | |
| we're that lucky. | |
| Leonidas begins to move across the landscape of the dead as | |
| the Captain sighs, then sees another breathing Persian and | |
| raises his spear. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Besides, there's no reason we can't | |
| be civil, is there? | |
| The Captain buries his spear with crisp precision and the | |
| life groans from one of the nameless horde of his enemy. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| None, sire. | |
| 43 EXT. COASTAL PLAIN 43 | |
| A clearing between the Hot Gates and the Persian camps. | |
| Leonidas slows to a stop. His expression a subtle smile. A | |
| mix of amusement and disbelief at the display before him. | |
| For, wedged between the sea and the jagged rock face of the | |
| mountains, is a sight as impressive as it is absurd. | |
| 57. | |
| 100 men bear on their backs a giant golden throne beset | |
| with sculpted lions. Ancient script as old as time itself | |
| is carved upon the platform. It rises 20 feet above the | |
| shoulders of the bent slaves who carry it. At its summit, | |
| surrounded by golden gazelles and backed by a black sun, | |
| stands XERXES. Nearly 7 feet tall. Body of lean sinew, | |
| hairless, androgynous, and draped in adornments of gold. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Let me guess. You are Xerxes. | |
| Xerxes moves down the richly carpeted stairs of his throne | |
| platform to the waiting Leonidas. Xerxes steps down, using | |
| the back of a kneeling slave as the final step. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| A voice as smooth as warm oil on | |
| well-worn leather and as deep as | |
| rolling thunder. | |
| XERXES | |
| Come, Leonidas. Let us reason | |
| together. | |
| Xerxes glides on powerful legs as Leonidas stands next to | |
| him. | |
| XERXES | |
| It would be a regrettable waste ... | |
| it would be nothing short of | |
| madness were you, brave king, and | |
| your valiant troops to perish all | |
| because of a simple | |
| misunderstanding. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Don't lose sleep worrying over us. | |
| We're having the time of our lives. | |
| Xerxes stops and turns to the Spartan King. | |
| XERXES | |
| Brave words. Spartan words. I | |
| admire you. The strength and honor | |
| of your soldiers, their fierce | |
| devotion. There is much our | |
| cultures could share. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Haven't you noticed we have been | |
| sharing our culture with you all | |
| morning? | |
| 58. | |
| Xerxes smiles. | |
| XERXES | |
| Yours is a fascinating tribe. Even | |
| now you are defiant, in the face of | |
| annihilation and the presence of a | |
| god. | |
| Leonidas looks up at Xerxes. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| There is a fundamental difference | |
| between us. You would kill any of | |
| your men to win and I would die for | |
| any of mine. | |
| As Leonidas and Xerxes stand together, silent archers pull | |
| bows taut, keeping an eye on the Spartan King. | |
| XERXES | |
| You Greeks take pride in your | |
| logic. I suggest you employ it. | |
| Consider the beautiful land you so | |
| vigorously defend. Picture it | |
| reduced to ash at my whim! | |
| Leonidas is unmoved. | |
| XERXES | |
| Consider the fate of your women. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Clearly you don't know our women. I | |
| might as well have marched them up | |
| here judging by what I've seen. You | |
| have many slaves, Xerxes, but few | |
| warriors. It won't be long before | |
| they fear my spears more than your | |
| whips. | |
| Leonidas turns away from Xerxes and scans the hillside. | |
| Rocks fall in a cascade from a nearby cut in the cliff. | |
| Xerxes gently puts his hands on Leonidas' shoulder. | |
| XERXES | |
| It is not the lash they fear, it is | |
| my divine power. I am a generous | |
| God. I can make you rich beyond all | |
| measure. | |
| Xerxes leans closer to Leonidas, his voice goes to a hush. | |
| XERXES | |
| 59. | |
| I will make you warlord of all | |
| Greece. You will carry my battle | |
| standard into the heart of Europa. | |
| Your Athenian rivals will kneel at | |
| your feet, if you will but kneel at | |
| mine. | |
| Leonidas exhales deeply, then steps out from under the God | |
| King's hand and looks at his feet. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| You are generous as you are divine, | |
| oh King of Kings. Such an offer | |
| only a madman would refuse. | |
| The Spartan King then takes a few slow steps away from the | |
| towering Xerxes. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| But the idea of kneeling, it's ... | |
| you see slaughtering all those men | |
| of yours has put a nasty cramp in | |
| my leg. So kneeling will be hard | |
| for me. | |
| XERXES | |
| You sadden me, Leonidas. For as I | |
| am reasonable, so am I vicious, and | |
| as I am generous, so am I wrathful. | |
| Xerxes' body tenses under the weight of diplomatic words. | |
| XERXES | |
| There will be no glory in your | |
| sacrifice. I will erase the memory | |
| of Sparta from the histories. Every | |
| piece of Greek parchment shall be | |
| burned. Every Greek historian and | |
| every scribe shall have their eyes | |
| put out and their tongues cut from | |
| their mouths. | |
| Xerxes is afire, voice raised in contempt for the Spartan | |
| King. | |
| XERXES | |
| Why, uttering the very name of | |
| Sparta or Leonidas will be | |
| punishable by death. The world will | |
| never know you existed at all. | |
| Leonidas turns to Xerxes, eyes as cold as ice. | |
| 60. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| The world will know free men stood | |
| against a tyrant. That few stood | |
| against many, and before this | |
| battle was over, that even a God | |
| King can bleed. | |
| 44 EXT. HOT GATES - SUNSET 44 | |
| On the flat steps, before the Hot Gates. Stelios and | |
| Astinos work piling Persian corpses into a great mound at | |
| the Wall of the Dead. Muscles strain under the lifeless | |
| bodies. The sun has just passed below the mountains, and | |
| promise of the night's cold is first spoken by the breeze | |
| which rises off the sea. | |
| STELIOS | |
| You fought well today, for a woman. | |
| Stelios tosses the body he's carrying onto the pile. | |
| ASTINOS | |
| As did you. Maybe if I am injured | |
| you will be able to keep up with | |
| me. | |
| Astinos grunts as he heaves a cool body onto another, as | |
| Stelios drags a body by the ankles. | |
| STELIOS | |
| Maybe I was so far ahead you did | |
| not see me. | |
| The Captain behind them lifts two bodies over his shoulders | |
| and begins to move towards the youths. | |
| ASTINOS | |
| More likely offering your backside | |
| to the Thespians. | |
| STELIOS | |
| Jealously does not become you, | |
| friend. | |
| Stelios throws another on the heaping head. The two smile | |
| at each other. | |
| The Captain climbs onto the bodies of his enemies, one | |
| Persian over each shoulder, heaving them at Stelios' feet. | |
| Leonidas calls up to them, out of breath, from the foot of | |
| the pile. | |
| 61. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Move it, men! Pile those Persians | |
| high. | |
| Leonidas glances back towards the Persian camp, as a wind | |
| of dusk tosses crimson behind him. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| We're in for one wild night! | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Yes, sir. | |
| 45 EXT. COASTAL PLAIN - NIGHT 45 | |
| The worn road to the Hot Gates. Quiet grips the black | |
| cliffs. The sea laps onto ageless rock. A light breeze | |
| whispers in the trees and then out of the darkness ... | |
| WE HEAR: DRUMS | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| They have served the dark will of | |
| Persian Kings for 500 years. | |
| Clouds roll against the quarter moon. Black banners * cover | |
| the sky. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Eyes as dark as night. Teeth filed | |
| to fangs ... soulless. | |
| The war DRUMS POUND like the heartbeat of a Titan. A river | |
| of black bronze surges toward the Hot Gates. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Wordless, their form. Faultless, | |
| moving in such perfect unison. Each | |
| collective step strikes the earth | |
| like a blow from the Fire God's | |
| Hammer. They march! | |
| Feet pound the earth. Barely the feet of men, toenail-like | |
| claws. | |
| WE RISE SLOWLY ALONG the form of black armored skin. | |
| Muscular arms protrude from ornate plates inlaid with gold. | |
| Maybe ancient writing or design. Only dead men have seen | |
| close enough to know. | |
| DILIOS (V. 0.) | |
| 62. | |
| The personal guard to King Xerxes | |
| himself. The Persian warrior elite. | |
| The deadliest fighting force in all | |
| Asia. | |
| One of the thousands turns TO us, scanning the hillside as | |
| his demon brothers pass behind him. A hiss of breath, he | |
| bares his saw-blade teeth. His black eyes, shark-like, | |
| searching for Spartan blood. | |
| DILIOS (V. 0. ) | |
| The Immortals. | |
| A nameless Immortal at the front of the column holds up his | |
| fist and, as one, they stop. | |
| WE HEAR: The DRUMSFLOURISH, then GO SILENT. | |
| The Immortal lowers his fist slowly, takes a few tentative | |
| steps out of formation and scans the obstacle in his way. A | |
| wall of stone and fresh Persian dead, 20 feet high, that | |
| runs from cliff wall down to the sea. He stares up at the | |
| grotesque sight of his comrades. | |
| Something new rises from his belly, freezing his joints, | |
| making his breath catch in his throat. Something he has not | |
| felt in countless forays on the battlefield -- FEAR! | |
| DILIOS (V. 0.) | |
| Now, while we are fresh and at our | |
| full strength. Before wounds and | |
| weariness have taken their toll. | |
| The Immortal at the front reaches with shaking hands to the | |
| two sabers slung at his back. Stepping slowly away from the | |
| wall, he frees the two long arcing blades and nervously | |
| watches the wall for movement. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| The mad King throws the best he has | |
| at us. Xerxes has taken the bait. | |
| WE MOVEACROSS the faces of the dead at the top of the wall, | |
| until we COMETO REST ON the dull gold of a Spartan helmet, | |
| the unblinking eyes of Leonidas is hidden among the dead. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Spartans, push!!! | |
| From behind the wall, a hoard of crimson and bronze presses | |
| as one against the wall of corpses, which tumbles onto the | |
| horrified immortals, breaking like waves onto the first six | |
| rows of the Persian elite. | |
| 63. | |
| WE SEE: Pouring over the mound of dead comes a new swell of | |
| Spartan shields and spears, surging down on the stunned | |
| Immortals. | |
| Leonidas plunges his spear, reaching three deep into the | |
| ranks of his enemies. He instantly lands a strong foot into | |
| the chest of the skewered man, pushing him with a single | |
| powerful stroke of his spear and turns to the next. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Immortals. Well ... As our King | |
| said, we put their name to the | |
| test. | |
| With his shield, Stelios blocks a blade strike meant for | |
| the Captain who flashes young Stelios a look before ramming | |
| his own spear through the attacker's eye socket. | |
| This is the hardest fighting they have faced. War cries | |
| howl from the Immortals as they battle the Spartans. | |
| TIME SLOWS: | |
| WE SEE: Astinos as he catches· an attacking Immortal with | |
| his spear, in a single move, draws his sword to dispatch | |
| another surging at his side. The blood of his enemies | |
| sprays across Leonidas' face as the Spartans push forward | |
| into the columns of confused Immortals. | |
| IMMORTALCOMMANDER | |
| Stand your ground! | |
| The COMMANDER is bumped by a retreating soldier. He grabs | |
| the fleeing soldier and pushes him back toward the | |
| fighting. He yells, spitting his rage. | |
| IMMORTALCOMMANDER | |
| I said stand your ground!!! | |
| Leonidas parries a blow and then drives his spear into | |
| another Immortal. | |
| One of the Immortals leaps onto the shield of a Spartan | |
| attacker. His toes grabbing the bottom of the shield like | |
| an ape's hands, pulling the swords at his back free and | |
| slicing across the neck of a Spartan soldier, killing him. | |
| The Spartans begin to lose ground to the recovering | |
| Immortals. They claw as they rally, their fangs tearing | |
| into Spartan flesh. | |
| 64. | |
| Leonidas fights two at a time, grimacing through clenched | |
| teeth. He falls back as the Immortals take their toll on | |
| the now withering Spartans, locked in a hand-to-hand | |
| struggle with one of the demons. The Immortal's gnashing | |
| teeth are just inches from Leonidas' face. Leonidas is | |
| barely able to draw his sword, plunging it into the | |
| Immortal's throat. | |
| Now from the heart of the Immortal horde, the largest and | |
| fiercest of the Immortals rushes forward, a full seven feet | |
| tall at the shoulder, veins in his neck bulging like | |
| serpents as he roars, collapsing a Spartan shield with a | |
| kick while in the same moment decapitating another Spartan | |
| not quick enough to retreat behind his shield. | |
| The giant Immortal focuses his milky eyes on Leonidas, who | |
| fights and dispatches two of the dark horde. | |
| Leonidas locks eyes with the giant, who recognizes the | |
| Spartan king and charges toward him. Leonidas quickly | |
| recovers a spear and thrusts it at the charging monster, | |
| who rises into the air on a thundering stride, cutting | |
| clean in two the spear shaft of the king. He lands with his | |
| full 370 pounds of crushing muscle on the shield of | |
| Leonidas, throwing him back onto the mutilated bodies of | |
| the day-old fallen. | |
| Leonidas, lying on his back, recovers his wits just long | |
| enough to have his sword kicked from his hand. The giant | |
| roars again, pulling Leonidas' helmet off, which spins to | |
| rest on the blood-soaked earth. The Immortal pulls his | |
| blade down toward the exposed head of the king, who raises | |
| his arm, catching the raw metal blade with a roof block on | |
| his bronze-covered forearm. | |
| Then Leonidas summons from deep within his warrior soul a | |
| crushing right to the jaw of the demon, who spits blood as | |
| he roars in defiance. The thing tosses his sword down as he | |
| moves right into Leonidas' face, roaring as he opens his | |
| mouth. A mix of blood and saliva pours in rivulets between | |
| the sharpened teeth of the giant while his eyes fix on | |
| Leonidas' neck. The king's muscles strain beneath the mass | |
| of the Persian Immortal. | |
| In desperation, Leonidas calls ... | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Arcadians ... NOW!!! | |
| 65. | |
| The giant Immortal is inches from Leonidas' neck when he | |
| hears the battle cry of the Arcadians. The monster is | |
| momentarily distracted, allowing Leonidas to strain the | |
| last remaining inches to reach his sword. He lifts the | |
| giant off him on two powerful legs and in the same motion | |
| passes his sword between the giant's head and shoulders. | |
| The monster's head lands next to the king as his body | |
| tumbles to one side. | |
| WE SEE: From the small thicket of trees at the center of | |
| the Immortals, the earth begins to move. The trees fall, | |
| revealing a box canyon filled now with charging Arcadians. | |
| Daxos leads his men as they cut into the Immortals. | |
| Daxos comes right at the Immortal Commander, who is raising | |
| his saber, ready to cut down his own men. | |
| IMMORTALCOMMANDER | |
| Fight or die where you stand! | |
| The eyes of the soldier the Commander threatens go wide, as | |
| he sees past his master to the ambushing Greeks descending | |
| upon them. The Commander sees his fear and turns just in | |
| time for Daxos to plunge his spear through the Commander's | |
| neck. | |
| DAXOS | |
| Go! Show the Spartans what we can | |
| do. | |
| Daxos pulls the spear free and turns quickly, throwing his | |
| spear into an Immortal's chest. | |
| Daxos draws his sword, fighting on. Thrusting, jabbing; | |
| missing a parry, his arm is cut. In exchange, he plunges | |
| his sword into one of the dark horde. | |
| DAXOS | |
| Call us amateurs, will they? | |
| TIME SLOWS. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| They shout and curse, stabbing | |
| wildly, more brawlers than | |
| warriors. | |
| WE SEE: Farmer and potter, blacksmith and merchant. | |
| 66. | |
| Free Greeks all, teeth clenched in a battle rage, thrusting | |
| spears and swords through the frightened throngs of their | |
| enemies. Pushing, legs driving shields against piceous | |
| bronze. Forcing dozens of heavily-weighted Immortals off | |
| the cliffs and into the sea. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| They make a wondrous mess of | |
| things. Brave amateurs, they do | |
| their part. | |
| STILL UNDER THE DRUMS. | |
| WE SEE: Leonidas pushing forward, muscles flexing, made | |
| hungry by the wide-eyed terror of the Immortals. They fall | |
| over each other to flee the attacking Spartan King. | |
| As the slaughter continues below, from the cliff | |
| overlooking the battlefield, silhouetted by the crescent | |
| moon, a dark figure adorned in gold watches as his | |
| invincible Immortals fall like wheat under the sickle of | |
| the Spartan phalanx. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| ... And a man who fancies himself a | |
| God ... | |
| Xerxes' lips tighten; he breathes deeply through flaring | |
| nostrils, as below him even the war drums are silenced. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| ... feels a very human chill crawl | |
| up his spine. | |
| 45A EXT. SPARTAN ENCAMPMENT - NIGHT 45A | |
| Dozens of Spartan campfires reach into a nigrescent sky. | |
| They burn bright, fueled with a kindling of broken Persian | |
| arrow shafts by the thousands. | |
| Around the fires, warriors mend their wounds with linens | |
| and oils of root and herb. They drink of red wine and | |
| recount with pride the heroics of the battlefield. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Our King! | |
| WE HEAR a ROAR so primitive it shakes the ground and ECHOES | |
| OFF the far canyon walls as the other Spartans sound off. | |
| SPARTANS | |
| 67. | |
| Haaaawoooo! | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Our honored dead! | |
| SPARTANS | |
| Haaawooo! | |
| Leonidas says nothing, just stares quietly towards the | |
| heavens along the far edge of the fire circle and beyond. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Triumph. | |
| STELIOS | |
| Yes, the day is ours. | |
| ASTINOS | |
| And the night too. | |
| DILIOS | |
| True, for now they fear the night | |
| as well. | |
| Dilios moves with the shadowed light, in front of his | |
| brothers. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Now, as we rest, the Immortals | |
| crawling back to their master | |
| whipped dogs. | |
| The Captain nods slowly and wipes the now cold blood from | |
| his hands with a captured turban. | |
| ASTINOS | |
| Every Persian sees it. | |
| STELIOS | |
| Whom will Xerxes dare to send next? | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| They will never measure as fine as | |
| this. | |
| The Captain lifts a red-hot iron rod from the fire's mouth | |
| and puts it against a young Spartan's side, burning, | |
| smoldering the skin, cauterizing the gaping hole without a | |
| sound or expression to fill the night air. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Who among his legions will dare to | |
| face us?! | |
| 68. | |
| The Captain throws the rod back to the fire and again a | |
| cheer from the Greek warriors rings into the night. | |
| SPARTANS | |
| Haaawoooo! | |
| Leonidas turns and moves through their war party. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Children ... children! | |
| Their King's voice quiets their folly. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| The Medes and Scythians are in open | |
| revolt! Xerxes is slaughtering his | |
| own troops. | |
| ASTINOS | |
| There is nothing that can stop now! | |
| Leonidas raises his hand, holding some invisible force that | |
| quiets the men. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Dare we hope ... Dare we hope for | |
| more than a glorious death? | |
| Leonidas lowers his hand and gazes over each of the men's | |
| faces, half-filled with firelight. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Such mad hope... but there it is. | |
| Leonidas points out into the darkness of the battlefield. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Against Asia's endless hordes. | |
| Against all odds. | |
| The Spartan King returns his eyes to his warriors. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| We can do it! We can hold the Hot | |
| Gates! We can win! | |
| The Spartans erupt into a chorus of voice. | |
| SPARTANS | |
| Haawwooo! | |
| 69. | |
| 50 EXT. MOUNTAIN FOOTHILLS 50 | |
| On the shelf of a near cliff ... staring down from the | |
| blackness and glow of the moon ... Ephialtes tears at the | |
| red cape that has hidden his deformed soul. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Gods ... I still breathe. I still | |
| live. Gods, you are cruel. | |
| He rips the cape, it settles near his feet. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Damn you. | |
| His crude shape leans over, looking down towards the | |
| Spartan campfires, down towards the distant warriors. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Damn you. Damn you, Gods! Damn you, | |
| Father ... Damn you, Mother ... | |
| Damn you all to Hell! | |
| Ephialtes lifts his father's bronze helmet toward the | |
| faultless sky, inspecting the color, its worn strength. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Spartans ... Spartans! | |
| He throws his helmet to the ground. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| The boldest of men! The finest | |
| warriors in all the world. | |
| Ephialtes grunts in disgust to himself. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Damn you ... | |
| He turns his broken form and begins into the night, none | |
| but himself hearing his voice. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Damn you all! | |
| 51 EXT. COASTAL PLAIN 51 | |
| The second day begins as the first. With full light at | |
| their backs, barriers of man and beast pound the earth, | |
| into the slaughter they race. Silhouetted forms, WHIPS | |
| CRACK! | |
| 70. | |
| Across the backs of a fresh rotation, flooding upwards, | |
| across the slain and haunted bodies. The men pull from | |
| their guts a low growling HOWL! | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| One hundred nations descend upon | |
| us. The Armies of all Asia. | |
| Funneled into this narrow corridor, | |
| their numbers count for nothing. | |
| They claw and dig into the muddy ground, barreling towards | |
| the Hot Gates and the awaiting Spartan line. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Back to hell with you. | |
| Blood and terror pounding at the temples of the oncoming | |
| pack of Xerxes' front men. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| The raiding party arrives, | |
| unfortunate for being the first to | |
| meet the Spartan Nation. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Attack, now! | |
| They collide with such force into the bronze shields, | |
| shudder cycling through SNAPPING! Fresh bones. | |
| Others push from behind, but nothing is gained as Leonidas | |
| plows his pike through the chest of one and moves quickly | |
| at silencing another. | |
| Armless PERSIAN GIANTS run with wicker baskets .on their | |
| backs. Within the baskets, MIDGET ARCHERS cut loose a | |
| volley a projectiles. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| At our wall of bronze and crimson, | |
| there is no retreat, there is no | |
| surrender. Only honor ... duty ... | |
| glory ... combat ... victory. They | |
| fall by the hundreds ... We send | |
| the severed bodies and fragile | |
| hearts back to Xerxes' feet. | |
| Stelios rams against the hordes, cutting through thin | |
| tissue and capillaries, lashing out, moving in pace with | |
| his brothers on the steep slope. | |
| Tribesmen, tattoos covering their bodies, sling broken | |
| shards of glass and porcupine quills into the fight. | |
| 71. | |
| Astinos drops his lance into a Persian thigh and strokes | |
| upwards, through the groin and out the chest cavity. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| When muscle failed they turned to | |
| their magic. But we were relentless | |
| ... unstoppable ... We were free | |
| men ... We are Spartans. | |
| PERSIAN WIZARDS, draped in black velvet robes, throw clay | |
| pots mixed of sulfur, bat dung and ash. Its noxious smoke | |
| rising, obscuring the fight. | |
| Dilios nails two charging infantrymen with the tip of his | |
| spear. Robbing them of any glory, any hope of tomorrow. | |
| 52 EXT. PERSIAN ENCAMPMENTS 52 | |
| In front of Xerxes' myriad tents, a long line of his | |
| Generals wait. | |
| TIME SLOWS: | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| King Xerxes is displeased with his | |
| generals. | |
| Xerxes' eyes blaze. Veins bulge in his forehead and neck; | |
| he grits his teeth. His rage spitting from his mouth, he | |
| commands the executioner, whose form is grotesquely | |
| muscled. Where his forearms should be, his flesh and hands | |
| have been removed. His very bones sharpened into twin | |
| executioner's axes. | |
| WE SEE: His arms fall! | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| He disciplines them. | |
| And with time still suspended, one of his many | |
| disappointing Generals is parted from his head. | |
| 53 EXT. HOT GATES 53 | |
| WE HEAR: The TRUMPETING of not brass horn but angry and | |
| wild BEASTS. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Xerxes dispatches his monsters from | |
| half the world away. | |
| 72. | |
| WE SEE: Around the bend. A cavalry of elephants mass. | |
| Elephants adorned with spikes and cleated stomp through | |
| their own men. Their trunks fitted hammers and bladed | |
| sickles. They swing, clearing to the Spartans. | |
| THUNDERING! | |
| Up the constricted path, on the gray massive backs, Xerxes' | |
| men, 10 deep, archers, javelin throwers, young boys | |
| throwing stones down into the battle. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| They are clumsy beasts and the | |
| piled Persian dead are slippery. | |
| The elephants lose footing, some topple, others shift in | |
| fear. A Persian meets his fate, skewered through a charging | |
| tusk. Others are tossed like a desultory of tribesman, off | |
| the beast and disappear under the charge of nations. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Break ... Now! | |
| And with the coming magnitude of Persians, the Spartans | |
| open the phalanx and swallow the enemy whole. | |
| Leonidas is in perfect form, cutting the enemy down, each | |
| stroke and parry, a grace for others to emulate. | |
| His shield takes a crushing blow from a Persian battleaxe. | |
| He counters and yaws forward, surrendering his spear tip | |
| into the face of a Persian Commander, snapping it clean, he | |
| draws his sword. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Watch them! | |
| In front, Stelios and Astinos break free, filled by youth. | |
| They cleave their swords into an open space of Persian | |
| dead. Stelios buries his blade, the Persian falling at his | |
| feet. | |
| ASTINOS | |
| Are you still here? | |
| Stelios pulls at his steel, stuck in the corpse he just | |
| felled. | |
| STELIOS | |
| If only you fought as much as you | |
| ran your mouth. | |
| 73. | |
| Astinos laughs and swings through a string of Persians that | |
| streams toward Stelios, still trying to free his blade. | |
| ASTINOS | |
| Not now, I am a little busy. | |
| Astinos is dynamic, effortless, and brave as he takes three | |
| Persian guardsmen. He cuts and pulls at them, dropping the | |
| first. | |
| Stelios frees his sword, tearing it loose and reenters the | |
| fight. Astinos drops the second and turns to Stelios. | |
| They continue on, all of the Spartans, beating back among | |
| the promontory of the dead. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Regroup! | |
| The Spartans pull into one another, gathering force, | |
| streaming into the Persians like a wall of intimidation. | |
| Astinos rages on, killing the dark figures without pause. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Astinos. | |
| Astinos looks to his father across the salient, the Captain | |
| locks eyes with his son. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| On center. | |
| They share a moment of praise among this tenebrous day. | |
| From the middle of the fray a PERSIAN HORSEMAN, clothed in | |
| inked leather and iron mail, gallops through the melee. He | |
| raises his sword and with one arc. | |
| TIME SLOWS: | |
| For all who see it, the combat stands still. It is no more | |
| brutal than the rest, only that it's one of their own, a | |
| Spartan. The Captain watches as Astinos is beheaded only a | |
| few yards away. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Noooo! | |
| Astinos' head falls to the muck and mire, another Persian | |
| lifts the severed gift in his hands and tosses it up to the | |
| confident horseman. He holds the head above his and howls. | |
| A prize offering for Xerxes, he rides back towards the sea, | |
| never offering fight for a father's pain. | |
| 74. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| They all die! | |
| The Persians retreat back, with their treasure, a young | |
| Spartan face. The Captain's rage rises; he runs after the | |
| force hacking into the backs of fleeing men. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| The day wears on ... We lose few, | |
| but each felled is a friend ... or | |
| dearest blood, and upon seeing the | |
| headless body of his own young son | |
| the Captain breaks rank. He goes | |
| wild ... blood-drunk. | |
| Dilios and Stelios follow him, allowing his frenzy to run | |
| its course until all the enemy life has been snuffed out. | |
| Finally a group of Spartans drag the Captain from the | |
| field, his face twisted with grief, his tears etching lines | |
| in the mix of blood and dirt on his face. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| The Captain's cries of pain at the | |
| loss of his son are more | |
| frightening to the enemy than the | |
| deepest battle drums. It takes | |
| three men to restrain him and bring | |
| him back to our own. The day is | |
| ours. No songs are sung. The | |
| Persian camp goes deathly quiet. | |
| 54 INT. SPARTAN HOUSE 54 | |
| A wood fire burns in the corner, illuminating the simple | |
| mason and beam ceilings. Theron and Gorgo stand in | |
| conversation. | |
| GORGO | |
| I am not here for small talk, | |
| Theron. | |
| THERON | |
| I am sure of that. You have never | |
| spared words with me. | |
| Theron walks to a rimmed table, tanned cougar hide covering | |
| its base. | |
| THERON | |
| A drink? | |
| 75. | |
| Gorgo studies his face and with a laugh. | |
| GORGO | |
| Is it poison? | |
| He lifts a high pitcher, inlaid of silver palmette rising | |
| from acanthus leaves. | |
| THERON | |
| I am sorry to disappoint you, my | |
| Queen. It's just water. | |
| He pours the water into two shallow bronze bowls, hammered | |
| with the images of a seated fox and hen. He hands the water | |
| to Gorgo. | |
| THERON | |
| I am told you are going before the | |
| Council. | |
| GORGO | |
| I am not seeking your advice, just | |
| your help in winning votes to send | |
| our Army north to their King. | |
| Theron turns to face Gorgo in the half-lit room. | |
| THERON | |
| Perhaps I could help. The two of us | |
| standing together, the politician, | |
| the warrior, our voices as one, but | |
| what does your willingness prove? | |
| Gorgo takes a sip from the bowl and sets it on the near | |
| table. | |
| GORGO | |
| It proves that I care for a King | |
| who at this very moment fights for | |
| the water we drink. | |
| Theron nods in agreement. | |
| THERON | |
| True. But this is politics, not | |
| war. | |
| He sets his water down and looks at the Queen. | |
| THERON | |
| Leonidas is an idealist. | |
| The Queen paces across the near window. | |
| 76. | |
| GORGO | |
| I know your kind too well. You send | |
| men to slaughter for your own gain. | |
| THERON | |
| Your husband, our King, has broken | |
| the laws. He has left without the | |
| council's blessings ... I am simply | |
| a realist. | |
| GORGO | |
| You are an opportunist. And a bad | |
| one at that. | |
| Theron closes the distance to the Queen. | |
| THERON | |
| You're as foolish as Leonidas if | |
| you believe that men don't have a | |
| price in this world. All men are | |
| not created equal. The Spartan code | |
| reinforces this maxim, you silly | |
| little girl. | |
| Without hesitation, Gorgo slaps Theron clean across his | |
| face. He is unmoved by the blow. | |
| THERON | |
| I admire your passion. But don't | |
| think that you, a woman, even a | |
| Queen, can walk into a council | |
| chambers and sway the minds of men. | |
| Regardless of what your king says, | |
| you have no power there. I own | |
| those chambers, as if they were | |
| built by these hands. | |
| He grabs Gorgo by the throat, she struggles for a moment | |
| under his power. | |
| THERON | |
| I could crush the life from you | |
| right now! | |
| Gorgo searching the room, nothing, to aid her plight. | |
| THERON | |
| 77. | |
| You will speak to the council and | |
| your words will fall on deaf ears. | |
| You will receive NOTHING without | |
| me. Leonidas will have NO | |
| reinforcements and if by the Gods' | |
| grace returns, he will be jailed or | |
| worse. | |
| Gorgo looks at Theron in disbelief. | |
| THERON | |
| Do you love your Sparta? | |
| Gorgo's eyes lock with Theron as she GASPS for air. | |
| GORGO | |
| Yes. | |
| His grip tightens around her neck. | |
| THERON | |
| And your King? | |
| GORGO | |
| I do. | |
| Theron smiles again as he watches Gorgo squirm under his | |
| powerful grasp. | |
| THERON | |
| Your husband fights for his for his | |
| land, for his love. | |
| Theron releases his grip on the Queen's neck. | |
| THERON | |
| What do you have to offer Sparta? | |
| GORGO | |
| What does a realist want with his | |
| Queen. | |
| THERON | |
| I think you know. | |
| Gorgo trembles, knowing that this sacrifice is the one | |
| Theron truly wants. She lifts her hand and pulls at the | |
| soft lace that holds the dress at her neck. | |
| THERON | |
| This will not be over quickly. You | |
| will not enjoy this. I am not your | |
| KING! | |
| 78. | |
| There are no tears. Gorgo stands naked before Theron, as he | |
| begins to ravage her, she makes not a sound, not a move. | |
| She gives him anything and everything, but not her heart in | |
| the faint firelight of the room. | |
| 56 EXT. PERSIAN ENCAMPMENTS 56 | |
| A perimeter of tribes surround the sanctuary of their God, | |
| Xerxes. Foot soldiers sharpen their weapons near a stable | |
| of warhorses. Castaways and penniless slaves roam the night | |
| for their masters, a makeshift world of chaos at the edge | |
| of the sea. | |
| CUT TO: | |
| 57 INT. XERXES' TENTS 57 | |
| WE HEAR: The FAINT CRIES, erotic WAILS, with the DRUMMING. | |
| A goat-headed minstrel plays the sitar. Others smoke from | |
| pipes of octopus skin and listen reed instruments of the | |
| East. | |
| This is a different world. A world of fine silk walls, rugs | |
| from the Orient, soft pillows, towers of honeycombed | |
| candles. Incense burns and hangs in tooled copper baskets. | |
| A procession of slave girls, all near naked, sheer gauze | |
| and jeweled bodies, dance for Xerxes in the faint light. | |
| XERXES | |
| Your Gods were cruel to shape you | |
| so, friend Ephialtes. | |
| Under a canopy of soft light, Ephialtes moves from the | |
| shadows. | |
| XERXES | |
| But I am kind. | |
| Xerxes on a marble pedestal, adorned in rare diamonds and | |
| emeralds from lands far from where he now stands. | |
| XERXES | |
| Everything you could ever desire. | |
| Concubines of all shapes, colors and nations are brought | |
| forth for Ephialtes. | |
| XERXES | |
| Every happiness you can imagine. | |
| Ephialtes squints his one blue eye at the spectacle. | |
| 79. | |
| XERXES | |
| Every pleasure your fellow Greeks | |
| and your false Gods have denied | |
| you. | |
| The dancers writhe against Ephialtes' frame. | |
| XERXES | |
| I will grant you ... for I am kind. | |
| Ephialtes wipes the drool, the sheer temptation from his | |
| lips and speaks. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Yes. | |
| XERXES | |
| Embrace me as your King and as your | |
| God. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Yes. | |
| XERXES | |
| Lead my soldiers to the hidden path | |
| that empties behind the cursed | |
| Spartans. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Yes. | |
| The dancers reach deeper into the heights of their tortured | |
| bodies. | |
| XERXES | |
| Your joys will be endless. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Yes. | |
| Xerxes opens his impressive arms, extending his jeweled | |
| hands to his Greek guest. | |
| XERXES | |
| You will create your destiny. | |
| The dancers have now thinned into the b.g. The MUSIC | |
| softens and DRIFTS AWAY. Now there is only the God King and | |
| the Quasimodo named Ephialtes. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| I want it all ... Land ... Wealth | |
| .. Women... and one more thing. | |
| 80. | |
| Ephialtes shuffles closer and opens his eyes wide for erxes | |
| to view. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| I want a uniform. | |
| Xerxes folds his arms over one another and simply nods. | |
| XERXES | |
| Done. | |
| Ephialtes takes a deep breath, as if to breathe in his | |
| newfound wealth and treasures. | |
| XERXES | |
| You will find ... I am kind ... | |
| Unlike the cruel Leonidas who | |
| demanded that you stand. I require | |
| only that you kneel. | |
| And with those words, Ephialtes lowers his warped body, | |
| head following his hands, crumpling his weight down to both | |
| knees and bows before Xerxes without more celebration or | |
| thought. | |
| 58 EXT. SPARTANEN CAMPMENT 58 | |
| The air rings as blacksmiths hammer blades, shields and | |
| spear tips for the next morning's contention. | |
| Leonidas pulls at his tattered cape, wanders the different | |
| campfires, watching his men's faces as they recover from | |
| the day. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Dilios, I trust that scratch hasn't | |
| made you useless? | |
| Dilios crouches near the firelight, binding a crude bandage | |
| across his face and head. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Hardly, My Lord. It's just an eye. | |
| The Gods saw fit to grace me with a | |
| spare. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| My Captain? | |
| Dilios rises and points to a sole campfire raging atop the | |
| ridgeline. | |
| 81. | |
| DILIOS | |
| He curses the Gods and mourns | |
| alone. | |
| Leonidas nods quietly. | |
| Daxos rides into the Spartan encampment. | |
| DAXOS | |
| Leonidas, we are undone! | |
| Daxos dismounts, dropping the leather reins and without | |
| haste, covers the ground to Leonidas. | |
| DAXOS | |
| Undone I tell you! | |
| Daxos' eyes dart around the blackness beyond the firelight | |
| searching nervously the high cliff face and then returns to | |
| the King. | |
| DAXOS | |
| Destroyed. | |
| Leonidas has heard enough and barks out. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Calm yourself. | |
| Daxos breathes deep and returns to his frightened rant. | |
| DAXOS | |
| A hunchback traitor has led Xerxes' | |
| Immortals to the hidden goat path | |
| behind us! | |
| The Spartan warriors straighten to this news as if ice has | |
| been run through their veins. | |
| DAXOS | |
| The Phocians you posted there were | |
| scattered without a fight. This | |
| battle is over, Leonidas. | |
| The Spartan King turns his back to the Arcadian. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| This battle is over when I say it | |
| is over, Daxos. | |
| Daxos continues to plead his case. | |
| 82. | |
| DAX.OS | |
| By morning, the Immortals will | |
| surround us. The Hot Gates will | |
| fall. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Spartans! Prepare for Glory! | |
| His Warriors have already begun preparing their weapons, | |
| armor and bodies for their shared fate. | |
| DAXOS | |
| Glory? Have you gone mad? There is | |
| no glory to be had now. Only | |
| retreat or surrender or ... death! | |
| Leonidas turns now to face the man who breeds doubt into | |
| the minds and hearts of his tribe. He glares into the eyes | |
| of Daxos. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| That's an easy choice for us, | |
| Arcadian. | |
| The King snaps his response with a steel of character even | |
| his enemies admire. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Spartans never retreat! Spartans | |
| never surrender! Go spread the | |
| word! Let every Greek assembled | |
| know the bald truth! Let each among | |
| them search his own soul! And while | |
| you're at it ... search your own. | |
| Stelios holds out the reins for Daxos' horse. | |
| DAX.OS | |
| My men will leave with me. | |
| Daxos takes the loose reins in his hands. | |
| DAX.OS | |
| Godspeed, Leonidas. | |
| The King is unmoved, and watches Daxos leap to the bare | |
| back of the pearl mare. | |
| Daxos heels the horse's side and disappears. Leonidas | |
| wastes not a moment and turns to his men. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Children, gather around. | |
| 83. | |
| Stelios, Dilios, and Spartan warriors close in around their | |
| King. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| The Gods favor us. | |
| The Spartans roar out. | |
| SPARTANS | |
| Haaawooo! | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Tomorrow, we light a fire that will | |
| burn in the hearts of all free men | |
| for all the centuries yet to be. | |
| The Spartans stomp the dry earth in unison, like a | |
| thundering pulse that runs through them all. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| No retreat ... No surrender! This | |
| is Spartan law! | |
| SPARTANS | |
| Haaawooo! | |
| Leonidas moves in front of his men, reaching into their | |
| will and stirring their souls. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| And by Spartan law we will stand | |
| and fight and die! | |
| The warriors erupt, POUNDING their shields and raising | |
| their weapons towards the star-filled blanket above. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| The law. We do not sacrifice the | |
| rule of law to the will and whim of | |
| men. That is the old way. The old, | |
| sad, stupid way. The way of Xerxes | |
| and every creature like him. | |
| Leonidas stands clearly in front of his brave men. His red | |
| cape lifts and floats with his every impassioned gesture. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| A new age has begun. An age of | |
| great deeds. An age of reason. An | |
| age of justice. An age of freedom. | |
| And all will know that three | |
| hundred Spartans gave their last | |
| breath to defend it! | |
| 84. | |
| SPARTANS | |
| Haaawoo! | |
| From the blackest corner of the Spartan encampment ... WE | |
| SEE: Leonidas' Captain appear, like a specter of death, his | |
| face and body smeared and covered, a mixture of ash, soot, | |
| and his son's blood. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| My friend. | |
| Leonidas reaches out to his Captain. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| I have lived my entire life without | |
| regret until now ... It is not that | |
| my child gave his life for his | |
| country. | |
| The Captain shakes his head slowly from side to side. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Only that I did not tell him that I | |
| loved him the most, that he stood | |
| by me in honor ... that he was what | |
| is best in me. | |
| Leonidas embraces his friend for a moment. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| My heart is broken for your loss. | |
| The Captain nods softly. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Heart? I have filled my heart with | |
| hate. | |
| The Captain looks into the flickering flames and back to | |
| his King. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Good. | |
| The Captain's eyes search deep into the valley, to the | |
| Persian camp below. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Dilios, let's take a walk. | |
| Dilios nods his bandaged head. | |
| DILIOS | |
| 85. | |
| Yes, My Lord. | |
| 60 EXT. HOT GATES - NIGHT 60 | |
| Dilios and Leonidas stand on a rocky patch of land away | |
| from the rest. Dilios is confused, his face pleading with | |
| his King. | |
| DILIOS | |
| But ... but ... sire ... I am fit. | |
| I am ready for combat. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| That you are, one of the finest. | |
| But you have another talent unlike | |
| any other Spartan. You will deliver | |
| my final orders to the council with | |
| force and verve. Tell them our | |
| story of honor, duty, glory, and | |
| freedom. Make every Greek know what | |
| happened here, you will have a | |
| grand tale to tell. | |
| Dilios feels the weight of responsibility. His King's eyes | |
| are bright and clear. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| A tale of victory. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Victory? | |
| Dilios shakes his head slightly. Leonidas lets the moment | |
| stretch, then smiles at him. He squeezes his shoulder and, | |
| nodding, lets him go. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Yes, My Lord. | |
| Dilios begins to turn and then slows. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Sire, any message ... ? | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| For the Queen? | |
| Leonidas is gone. Transported by thought, across time, set | |
| free from the bonds of politics and responsibility. For a | |
| fleeting moment he is just a man, separated by circumstance | |
| from his reason for living, His Love. His Queen. | |
| 86. | |
| Leonidas takes hold of the wolf tooth, pulls the worn | |
| leather necklace over his tired head and hands it to Dilios | |
| without a word. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| No ... none that need be spoken. | |
| The storyteller turns, then leaves his King alone. | |
| 61 EXT. HOT GATES - DAWN 61 | |
| A false dawn comes slowly, faint blue rising along | |
| coastline. | |
| Dilios has gathered his shield and helmet, cape and sword. | |
| He begins to walk back through the Hot Gates and away. He | |
| is surrounded by Arcadians, Thespians, Phocians, Free | |
| Greeks all. They mutter as they go. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| A handful stay. | |
| From a small rise, red capes and bronze shields watch as | |
| the Greeks abandon the Hot Gates. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Thousands leave. | |
| Dilios can feel the eyes of his fellow Spartans and chances | |
| a took over his shoulder at his Spartan brothers, | |
| silhouetted against the morning sky. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Only one looks back. | |
| The retreating Greeks continue. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Only I. | |
| WE SEE: Dilios turn, within the river of men leaving the | |
| Hot Gates. He is near the end of the columns which wind | |
| away through the canyon. | |
| Leonidas steps slowly through his men. All eyes on their | |
| Greek comrades disappearing into the pass. The Spartan King | |
| turns back to his men, they stand in silence. | |
| 300 SPARTANS. | |
| The morning sun just breaking in the East making them | |
| backlit. Capes glowing like hot coals. | |
| 87. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Spartans! | |
| WE HEAR: The collective battle cry. | |
| SPARTANS | |
| Haaawooo! | |
| Angry, deep and full of reverence for their King. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| Ready your breakfast and eat hearty | |
| ... | |
| Leonidas raises his spear and bares his teeth. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| For tonight we dine in Hell!!!! | |
| 300 spears are thrust towards Heaven, helped up by a cry of | |
| defiance. | |
| 62 INT. SPARTAN COUNCIL CHAMBERS 62 | |
| WE HEAR: The chatter and conversation of the assembled. | |
| OLD SPARTANWARRIORS, turned from using war to using words. | |
| A transition few are good at, but all carry its burden and | |
| responsibility. | |
| WE SEE: Gorgo entering from the carved penetralia. She | |
| walks alone into the acriform, chin lifted, hair braided, | |
| head high before the Spartan lawmakers. | |
| The ADVOCATES,STATESMEN, and PARTISANS settle into | |
| primitive seats that coil around the stone floors, | |
| thrusting forth a stage for the Queen to offer her words. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| May I give the floor now, to the | |
| wife of Leonidas and Queen of | |
| Sparta. | |
| The Loyalist bows slightly as Gorgo walks towards him. She | |
| nods and the Loyalist returns to his seat. | |
| Gorgo stands, radiating not only her beauty but sheer | |
| internal strength. She scans the faces, appraising the | |
| crowd. She knows them all, her eyes even cross Theron. | |
| Gorgo shows not a trace of emotion as she clears her throat | |
| and begins. | |
| 88. | |
| GORGO | |
| Councilmen, I stand before you not | |
| only as your Queen. | |
| She shifts into the amber light that now floods through the | |
| windows. | |
| GORGO | |
| I come to you as a mother. | |
| The chambers quiet to her voice. | |
| GORGO | |
| I come to you as a wife. | |
| Gorgo moves slowly on the stage. | |
| GORGO | |
| I come to you as a Spartan woman. | |
| She looks to Theron, locking eyes with him until he pulls | |
| his contact away. | |
| GORGO | |
| I come to you with great humility. | |
| Theron leans forward, listening carefully. | |
| GORGO | |
| I am not alone in this room. | |
| Gorgo looks again to Theron, she points, just past him to a | |
| STATESMAN in the seats to her left. Theron relaxes. | |
| GORGO | |
| You, your son fights at his King's | |
| side. | |
| The Statesman nods to his Queen. As she turns quickly to | |
| another. | |
| GORGO | |
| Have you forgotten your fine boy? | |
| A PARTISAN shakes his head softly, thinking of his young. | |
| PARTISAN | |
| No. | |
| Gorgo turns again, using all caution with her words. | |
| GORGO | |
| 89. | |
| I am not here to represent | |
| Leonidas. His actions speak louder | |
| than my words ever could ... I am | |
| here to speak for all the voices | |
| that cannot be heard. Mothers, | |
| daughters, sons, fathers. | |
| Gorgo takes a breath, centering her thoughts. | |
| GORGO | |
| 300 families that bleed for our | |
| rights and for the principles this | |
| very room was built upon. | |
| The Queen looks to the members of the council. | |
| GORGO | |
| You must not forget from where you | |
| came. All in this chamber once | |
| carried arms, to defend Sparta. You | |
| are men that now balance peace and | |
| war. That balance has been | |
| challenged. We are free only | |
| because of some fight to ensure it. | |
| Gorgo walks slowly, building her strength. | |
| GORGO | |
| We are at War, Gentlemen ... We | |
| must send the entire Spartan Army | |
| to aid our King in the preservation | |
| of not just ourselves, but our | |
| children. | |
| The Queen delivers with all her conviction and passion. | |
| GORGO | |
| Send the Army for the preservation | |
| of liberty ... Send it for justice | |
| ... Send it for law and order ... | |
| Send it for reason ... But most | |
| importantly send our Army hope. | |
| Hope that a King and his men have | |
| not been wasted to the pages of | |
| history. That their courage bonds | |
| us together. That we are stronger | |
| by their actions and that your | |
| choices today will reflect their | |
| bravery. | |
| WE SEE: Men lean together, some whisper into each other's | |
| ears, confidences are passed freely among them. | |
| 90. | |
| Theron watches as Gorgo has quickly made work of his room. | |
| He claps, slowly rising to his feet. | |
| THERON | |
| Moving, eloquent, passionate. | |
| Theron rests his hands and scans the faces in the chamber | |
| in silence. | |
| THERON | |
| Why do you waste the time of these | |
| important men? | |
| Gorgo turns to the arrogant voice. | |
| GORGO | |
| Do we waste your time? Each man in | |
| this room is no more important than | |
| the next. | |
| THERON | |
| You insult the council, my Queen? | |
| GORGO | |
| That is not my intention. | |
| THERON | |
| What is your intention? | |
| Gorgo speaks to the seated audience with clear words. | |
| GORGO | |
| Only to remind us, that each day we | |
| determine our course. | |
| THERON | |
| Course? | |
| GORGO | |
| Yes. These days are men's true | |
| riches. And they're being fought | |
| for at this very moment as we | |
| choose words. | |
| A STATESMAN rises and calls out. | |
| STATESMAN | |
| Your husband has brought war upon | |
| us! | |
| Gorgo shakes her head. | |
| GORGO | |
| 91. | |
| You are wrong. Xerxes brought it | |
| forth, and before that, his father | |
| Darius at Marathon. The Persians | |
| will not stop until the only | |
| shelter you will find is rubble and | |
| chaos. | |
| Theron begins to walk down to the stage floor. | |
| THERON | |
| This chamber does not need a | |
| history lesson. | |
| Gorgo watches carefully as he descends the stairs. | |
| GORGO | |
| Then what is the lesson like to | |
| leave? | |
| Theron presses on. | |
| GORGO | |
| Shall we begin to enumerate all of | |
| them? Honor. Duty. Glory. | |
| Theron takes the stage from the Spartan Queen. | |
| THERON | |
| You speak of honor, duty and glory. | |
| What of Adultery? | |
| His voice BOOMS out into the chambers and a hush is leveled | |
| onto the listeners. Gorgo's eyes wide, stunned by his | |
| treachery. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| How dare you speak out in such a | |
| manner. | |
| THERON | |
| How dare I? | |
| Gorgo studies the room, quickly searching out friend or | |
| foe. | |
| THERON | |
| Watch her carefully, she is a | |
| trickster in true form. | |
| He narrows his attack. | |
| THERON | |
| 92. | |
| Do not play with the members of | |
| this sacred room, my Queen. Just | |
| hours ago you lay with me. | |
| The chambers go wild at his telling. | |
| THERON | |
| I have your scent on me still. | |
| LOYALIST | |
| This is an outrage! | |
| Two armed Spartan warriors now appear from a depression of | |
| the antechamber and flank Gorgo's left and right sides. | |
| THERON | |
| You look shocked. A bribe of flesh | |
| I was given while her husband | |
| promotes anarchy and war. | |
| GORGO | |
| I ... you ... | |
| THERON | |
| Words escape even the cleverest | |
| tongue, my little whore Queen. | |
| Gorgo's eyes burn with fire fed from the pit of her | |
| stomach. | |
| GORGO | |
| You ... bastard. | |
| The Spartan guard grabs her just as she swings at Theron. | |
| Missing him, she spits in his direction. | |
| THERON | |
| What Queen-like behavior. | |
| They hold her back, as she pulls at their arms, struggling | |
| to free herself. The room watches, frozen by the spectacle | |
| before them. | |
| GORGO | |
| You will soon feel nothing! | |
| THERON | |
| Remove her from the chamber before | |
| she infects her son with her | |
| inglorious and shabby self. | |
| 93. | |
| Gorgo throws one of the guardsmen off her, spinning behind | |
| the other she draws his short blade, kicking him clear and | |
| with one quick step buries the blade deep into Theron's | |
| midsection. | |
| GORGO | |
| I am a Spartan Queen, need I remind | |
| you. | |
| Theron buckles, his weight brought forward onto Gorgo's | |
| bloody hands, still holding the blade. She cuts across his | |
| waistline and from beneath his elaborate frock ... | |
| WE SEE: Persian gold pieces fall and dance onto the floor, | |
| Xerxes' face forged clearly upon them for all to see. | |
| GORGO | |
| It seems every man does have his | |
| price! | |
| Gorgo leans down and whispers softly into Theron's ear. | |
| GORGO | |
| When your bones are dust, my son | |
| will be King. | |
| She twists the short blade deeper into Theron. | |
| TIME SLOWS: | |
| Their eyes lock. | |
| GORGO | |
| This will not be over quickly. You | |
| will not enjoy it. | |
| She remembers his cruelty. | |
| GORGO | |
| I am not your Queen. | |
| With those words she twists the blade out. Theron falls | |
| into a pile of his own blood and entrails. | |
| The Council members stand around her, some sift through the | |
| Persian gold, nodding at the traitor's death. But most | |
| stand in awe and admire their Queen. | |
| 63 EXT. HOT GATES 63 | |
| Persian archers climb down the steep cliff faces and settle | |
| their bodies in perfect positions to attack. | |
| 94. | |
| WE SEE: The Spartan Phalanx solidify. Leonidas' eyes | |
| searching, he listens for the coming Persian force and | |
| suddenly they appear. Led by Immortals. Hundreds of them | |
| surround what is left of Sparta's finest. | |
| PERSIAN GENERAL | |
| My compliments and congratulations. | |
| You have surely turned calamity | |
| into victory. | |
| The PERSIAN GENERAL steps forward. | |
| PERSIAN GENERAL | |
| Despite your insufferable | |
| arrogance, the God King has come to | |
| admire Spartan valor and fighting | |
| skill. | |
| The Persian columns build behind each other. | |
| PERSIAN GENERAL | |
| You will make a mighty ally. | |
| Leonidas says nothing as Ephialtes pushes his way through | |
| the Immortals and faces his once King. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| Yield, Leonidas. Use your reason. | |
| Think of your men. | |
| Silence, save the heartbeat of the Spartans to his back. | |
| EPHIALTES | |
| I beg you. | |
| Now carried on the back of Persian slaves, Xerxes and his | |
| throne are brought forth for the Spartan line to see. | |
| PERSIAN GENERAL | |
| Listen to your fellow Greek. He can | |
| attest to the divine one's | |
| generosity. Despite your several | |
| insults. Despite your horrid | |
| blasphemies. The Lord of Hosts is | |
| prepared to forgive all ... and | |
| more, to reward your service. | |
| Xerxes' throne rests completely and the Persian Lord sits | |
| knowing after days that he has the upper hand. | |
| PERSIAN GENERAL | |
| You fight for your lands ... ? Keep | |
| them. | |
| 95. | |
| The Persian force continues to build on the horizon. Now | |
| thousands are displayed and rest at Xerxes' command. | |
| PERSIAN GENERAL | |
| You fight for Sparta ... ? She will | |
| be wealthier and more powerful than | |
| ever before! | |
| Leonidas and his men are still, a solid wall of ragged | |
| warriors. | |
| PERSIAN GENERAL | |
| You fight for your kingship? You | |
| will be proclaimed warlord of all | |
| Greece. Answerable only to the one | |
| true master of the world. | |
| Xerxes waits the Spartan reply, both leaders defiant ·in | |
| their posture. | |
| PERSIAN GENERAL | |
| Leonidas, your victory will be | |
| complete. If you but lay down your | |
| arms and kneel to Holy Xerxes! | |
| The Spartan Phalanx is unmoving. Weapons tuned towards the | |
| Persians' divisions. They wait, their racing hearts, | |
| listening for Leonidas, his words, the fuel to their will. | |
| 64 FLASHBACK - EXT. PINDOS MOUNTAINS - NIGHT 64 | |
| Snow falls suspended by stretching time. The black paws of | |
| the wolf move slowly through the light snow. The young | |
| Leonidas, fearless, raises his sharpened stick into a | |
| fighting stance. The wolf narrows its red eyes, saliva | |
| running across its fangs. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| It has been more than forty years | |
| since the wolf and the winter cold. | |
| 66 EXT. HOT GATES - DAY - PRESENT 66 | |
| Seagulls hover on ocean breeze. Delicate feathers ripple | |
| with the wind. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| And now as then, it is not fear | |
| that grips him, only a | |
| restlessness. A heightened sense of | |
| things. | |
| 96. | |
| The pitted and dented surface of the King's helmet. A bead | |
| of sweat rolls down Leonidas' neck. The hem of his tattered | |
| crimson cape pushed lightly by the wind, brushing a pattern | |
| into the sand at his feet. | |
| DILIOS (V. 0.) | |
| The sea-borne breeze coolly kissing | |
| the sweat at his chest and neck. | |
| Gulls cawing, complaining even as | |
| they feast on the thousands of | |
| floating dead. | |
| 10,000 arrows shiver under the tension of drawn bows. The | |
| razor teeth and black eyes of the Immortals fight and | |
| jostle to lower spears and draw sabers, barely able to | |
| contain their bloodlust. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| The steady breathing of the 300 | |
| boys at his back ... ready to die | |
| for him without a moment's pause. | |
| Every one of them ... | |
| WE MOVE ACROSS the battered shields of the 300. Clear eyes | |
| peer from bronze helmets. | |
| DILIOS (V. 0.) | |
| ... ready to die. | |
| Finally Leonidas exhales deeply and slowly reaches for his | |
| helmet. The Persian General watching, under growing | |
| tension. Xerxes rising from his throne to better see his | |
| enemy's surrender. | |
| DILIOS (V. 0.) | |
| His helmet is stifling ... | |
| Leonidas' helmet strikes the ground bluntly. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| ... his shield is heavy. | |
| Leonidas shrugs off his SHIELD and it RATTLES to his feet. | |
| PERSIAN GENERAL | |
| Your spear. | |
| Leonidas lets his gaze run along the length· of his spear | |
| past its ragged tip, past even the Persian General to the | |
| hunched figure crouching among the legs and shields of the | |
| Immortals. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| 97. | |
| You there, Ephialtes. | |
| The misshapen eye darts to avoid the King's gaze, then | |
| chances a look to Leonidas. The two hold each other's stare | |
| for a moment. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| May you live forever. | |
| The moment is broken. | |
| PERSIAN GENERAL | |
| Your spear, Leonidas. | |
| The Spartan King looks back down to his hand, clenched | |
| around the weapon. He slowly opens his hand and looks back | |
| at the Persian General, letting the SPEAR fall, landing | |
| with a dusty CLANK! | |
| He looks one last time to Xerxes standing atop his golden | |
| litter. Behind 10 rows of his bloodthirsty Immortals. | |
| Noting the wind as it dances with the black banners at the | |
| back of Xerxes' throne. | |
| WE SEE bronze strike the earth as Leonidas falls to his | |
| knees. His hands go to the rocky soil just in front of him. | |
| His head slowly bowing, his eyes close. | |
| 67 FLASHBACK - EXT. SPARTAN COURTYARD 67 | |
| Leonidas and his son compare the size of their hands. | |
| The King's rough palm is barely covered by the entire soft | |
| hand of his son. The boy laughs. His eyes smiling. | |
| Soft light moves through leaves, laughing with the boy as | |
| he marvels at his father's hands. | |
| 69 EXT. SPARTAN FIELD 69 | |
| Gorgo sleeps in waist-high golden hay. Leonidas with the | |
| stem of yellowed grass lays next to her. He traces the | |
| contour of her cheek, she slowly swats at it. He continues | |
| down her neck, his eyes lost in her form. | |
| The nape of her neck, her collarbone, her black hair curly | |
| against the golden stalks of hay. Tickled, she opens her | |
| groggy eyes and seeing her husband, softly smiles. | |
| 98. | |
| 70 EXT. HOT GATES - DAY - PRESENT 70 | |
| Leonidas, eyes closed, lets the faintest of smiles fade, | |
| then with head still down, calls ... | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| STELIOS!! | |
| From behind the kneeling King, shields part and in two | |
| crushing strides, young Stelios leaps, spear in hand, from | |
| the cover of his Spartan brothers. | |
| Planting a foot on his King's back, he flies at the Persian | |
| General and, still in the air, he thrusts. Ribs part and | |
| sever. The exiting blood sprays into the eyes of nearby | |
| Immortals as the General withers under the blow. | |
| Leonidas snatches his own spear and, rising, loads for | |
| mighty throw. Xerxes bares his teeth in anger at the | |
| defiant King. | |
| XERXES | |
| Slaughter them!!! | |
| The air goes thick with wood shafts, feathers and steel. | |
| TIME SLOWS: | |
| Leonidas does not see the black banners at the back of | |
| Xerxes' throne fall with the lull in the wind. The only | |
| sound is that of countless ARROWS POUNDING into BRONZE | |
| SHIELDS, like hard rain on a metal roof. Through this | |
| barrage, Leonidas gathers every ounce of his strength. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| His helmet was stifling. It | |
| narrowed his vision ... | |
| WE SEE: The King's eyes. Calm, cold and focused on his | |
| target. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| ... and he must see far. | |
| The Spartan King's muscles pull the spear forward as around | |
| him the Persian spindles cut his children down. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| His shield was heavy. It threw off | |
| his balance. | |
| Leonidas lets his spear fly as one after another, arrows | |
| settle into him. | |
| 99. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| His target is far away. | |
| The spear of Leonidas flies against the current of incoming | |
| arrows as the King cries out! | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| XERXES... DIE! | |
| Dozens of arrows strike Leonidas at once. His men fall | |
| fighting. Leonidas draws his sword, struggling to free it | |
| from its sheath as arrow after arrow punches through limb | |
| and sinew. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| The old ones say we Spartans are | |
| descended from Hercules himself. | |
| Leonidas falls back upon the body of another of his fallen | |
| brothers. He then pushes himself back to his knees. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Bold Leonidas gives testament to | |
| our bloodline. His roar is long and | |
| loud. | |
| As Leonidas cries out in his glory, his spear silently out, | |
| away from the dying Spartans. | |
| TIME SLOWS. | |
| It soars in a straight line. Its shadow snaking up the | |
| ornate carpet of Xerxes' throne. | |
| The God King does not move. He can only watch, wide-eyed as | |
| the spear of Leonidas, thrown as his fin.al act, grazes his | |
| cheek. A small spray of blood flies from Xerxes' face as | |
| the spear sticks into the back of the golden throne. | |
| The assembled host of Persian generals gasps in awe at the | |
| sight of the God King's spilled blood, divine no more. | |
| The unquenchable bloodlust of the Immortals rises to a | |
| fevered pitch as they bring to bear their entire arsenal of | |
| spears, arrows, swords and lances against the Spartans who | |
| fight on as they die. | |
| The Captain charges forward out of ranks. Dozens of arrows | |
| finding their mark in his back and chest. Yet, he does not | |
| fall. | |
| 100. | |
| Leonidas watches helpless as one of the Immortals plunges a | |
| spear into the Captain's chest. The Captain takes hold of | |
| it, dropping shield and spear, pulling it into his own | |
| body, moving close to the Immortal who wields it. | |
| As life ebbs from him, he grips the Immortal's skull and | |
| twists it, snapping the neck with an audible crunch. The | |
| Immortal falls beneath him. The Captain rolls off, snapping | |
| the arrows that protrude from his body. | |
| CAPTAIN | |
| Astinos ... | |
| He exhales deeply and dies, his son's name still on his | |
| lips. | |
| Xerxes puts a hand to his bleeding face. Overcome, he | |
| collapses to his throne. | |
| Leonidas struggles to reach Stelios. The two fight on... | |
| side by side with broken blades and useless shields, | |
| hacking at the relentless Immortals. | |
| WE HEAR: A black and gold turbaned herald ... TRUMPET! | |
| Through a horn of human bone, signaling the Immortals to | |
| fall back so as not to be cut down by their own archers. | |
| Exhausted and mortally wounded, Stelios and the King crawl | |
| back among the handful of still living Spartans. | |
| Endless scores of fresh archers take up positions on | |
| hillside and boulders, surrounding on all sides that which | |
| remains of the Intrepid 300. | |
| Stelios, through labored breath, his own blood-running into | |
| his eyes, calls to his King. Just feet away. | |
| STELIOS | |
| My King. | |
| Each breath pain rising from within him. | |
| STELIOS | |
| It's an honor to die at your side. | |
| Leonidas rises looking down at Stelios. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| It's an honor to have lived at | |
| yours. | |
| 101. | |
| Countless archers bend bows as if the very earth around the | |
| dwindling Spartan ranks was not made of stone, scrub grass | |
| and cliff, but of bent ash, cat gut, and hungry iron arrow | |
| tips. | |
| We are CLOSE TO Leonidas' lips, chapped and splattered with | |
| dark blood. | |
| A Persian Commander nods to the herald. He inhales deeply. | |
| Leonidas is calm. His voice lowers. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| My Queen ... my wife. | |
| WE HEAR: The HORN. Nesting birds take flight. Leonidas' | |
| lips move, a whisper of reverence. | |
| LEONIDAS | |
| My love ... | |
| The arrows are released as one. The lethal dark cloud races | |
| across the rugged and bloody battlefield. Stelios narrows | |
| his eyes and with his last breath, stands next to his King. | |
| The ARROWS STRIKE a single ... | |
| DRUM STROKE. | |
| BLACKNESS. | |
| 73 EXT. SPARTA HAYFIELD - DAY 73 | |
| At the edge of the city. Gorgo stands waist-deep in the | |
| amber hay, it moves around her, pushed and slanted by a | |
| late summer wind. | |
| The sun is low in the West. Gorgo has come to this spot | |
| many times. Her brown eyes scanning the low hills. A figure | |
| appears at the edge of the field. The light coming over his | |
| back as he moves toward her. His shadow loosely moves among | |
| the hay before him. He walks. | |
| WE SEE: Dilios, his battered form, a testament to his | |
| valor. Shield rutted and the cut bronze has peeled back to | |
| reveal oak. His helmet is dented and tarnished. The dried | |
| blood on his makeshift eye patch. | |
| He stands before his Queen alone. Her eyes a thousand | |
| questions. | |
| They share a silent moment of grief. She knows without word | |
| the fate of her husband. | |
| 102. | |
| He does not reach into pocket or pouch. He simply raises | |
| his hand from his hip, turns his palm upward and opens it. | |
| There resting in the cut and calloused hand of Dilios is | |
| the wolf tooth necklace. | |
| Gorgo holds out her hands. Eyes welling. Dilios lets it | |
| fall then closes his hands around hers. He squeezes gently. | |
| She looks down and away. Her face binding in grief. Dilios | |
| watches her, feeling his own pain. | |
| He moves on, leaving her framed by the waving grass. Her | |
| body begins to shake. She drops to her knees. Her nose | |
| runs, all her Spartan reserve lost. | |
| WE SEE: A boy hurrying past Dilios without a look. The | |
| King's son, Pleistarchos, runs, hay brushing at his knees | |
| as he rushes to his mother's side. | |
| Dilios turns watching from a distance. Pleistarchos reaches | |
| her, they embrace. Gorgo's face red and wet with tears as | |
| she looks at him, seeing her husband's eyes. | |
| Her love. | |
| She then takes the leather necktie and places it over her | |
| son's head. He bows, letting it come to rest at his chest. | |
| His small fingers touching it. Pleistarchos puts his hand | |
| on his mother's face, gently wiping away her tears. | |
| Dilios watches as the dark figures in the bright hay | |
| embrace again. He nods silently to himself and turns. | |
| 74 INT. SPARTAN COUNCIL CHAMBER 74 | |
| Dilios still bloodied from battle, chin down, brow knitted. | |
| Lives each moment again. His voice ECHOING from the stone | |
| walls. Dilios stands at the center of the round room. | |
| WE MOVE: WITH him, rotating slowly. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Remember us ... as simple an order | |
| as a King can give. Remember why we | |
| died. | |
| The faces of the Spartan gallery are riveted. This is the | |
| very reason why this room was built. | |
| DILIOS | |
| 103. | |
| For he did not wish tribute or | |
| song, nor monuments, nor poems of | |
| war and valor. His wish was simple. | |
| Remember us ... He said to me ... | |
| that it was his hope should any | |
| free soul come across that place. | |
| 75 EXT. HOT GATES - DAY 75 | |
| WE MOVE: SLOWLYACROSS a still life of death. Spartan | |
| brothers all lay beset with arrows too numerous to count. | |
| And as we hear Dilios' voice, we are reminded it is his | |
| voice which has lead us all along. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| In all the countless centuries yet | |
| to be ... | |
| WE SEE: Spartan after Spartan, eyes locked in death stares, | |
| laying atop one another. | |
| Stelios. Dozens upon dozens of arrows pin him to the shield | |
| he lays upon. One clear eye peers towards the sky. The | |
| other put out by Persian spindle. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| ... may all our voices whisper to | |
| you from the ageless stones. | |
| At the center of this scene of heroic dead, arms | |
| outstretched upon the blood-soaked ground in a Christ-like | |
| pose, lays the Spartan King. | |
| WE MOVE: SLOWLY UPWARD, LOOKING DOWN ON Leonidas, his body | |
| riddled with arrows. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| Go tell the Spartans, passerby ... | |
| We CONTINUE TO RISE UNTIL ... WE SEE: All of the fallen | |
| 300. | |
| DILIOS (V.O.) | |
| ... that here by Spartan law we | |
| lie! | |
| 76 EXT. CAMPFIRES OF WAR - CLOSE ON DILIOS' FACE - DAWN 76 | |
| WE SEE: The wounds have heeled. He wears a leather eye | |
| patch. Firelight and the blue ambience of dawn mix. | |
| 104. | |
| DILIOS | |
| And so my King died, and so my | |
| brothers died, barely a year ago | |
| ... | |
| All around the fire now stand, ready for war, capes the | |
| color of blood, helmets and shields surround Dilios. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Long I pondered my King's cryptic | |
| talk of victory. Time has proven | |
| him wise. | |
| Dilios begins to push through the Spartan warriors. They | |
| follow him from the fire. | |
| DILIOS | |
| For from free Greek to free Greek | |
| the word was spread that bold | |
| Leonidas and his three hundred, so | |
| far from home, laid down their | |
| lives not just for Sparta ... | |
| WE FOLLOW: Dilios as he continues, the sea of Spartans | |
| making way for him as he moves slowly, taking time to clasp | |
| shoulder with hand, meeting eyes with nods. | |
| DILIOS | |
| ... but for all Greece and the | |
| promise this country holds. | |
| Shields are pulled aside and from a wall of fresh bronze, | |
| with dawn breaking in fingers of golden light, Dilios steps | |
| out in front of the Spartan line. He strides slowly with | |
| confidence along the barrier of shields. A forest of spears | |
| reach back into the distance, pointing skyward. | |
| A young SQUIRE hands Dilios his shield and spear. Eyes burn | |
| with battle lust as Dilios, never far from this tableau of | |
| Spartan bronze, continues. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Now, here on this rugged patch of | |
| Greece called Plataea, Xerxes' | |
| hordes face obliteration!!! | |
| WE HEAR: A collective cry answering Dilios. | |
| SPARTANS | |
| Haaawooo! | |
| 105. | |
| A cry like rolling thunder spreading across the Spartan | |
| ranks. LOWFLUTES begin to play a haunting melody, joined by | |
| slow rhythmic DRUMMING of SPEAR on SHIELD. | |
| Dilios spins, pointing with spear out across the barren | |
| landscape that lay before him. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Just there ... the barbarians | |
| huddle. Sheer terror gripping | |
| tight. Their hearts with icy | |
| fingers knowing full well what | |
| merciless horror they suffered at | |
| the spears and swords of 300 ... | |
| Dilios turns back to the line of men. It disappears into | |
| the distance on both sides of him. | |
| DILIOS | |
| ... yet they stare now across the | |
| plain at 10,000 Spartans commanding | |
| 30,000 free Greeks. | |
| Again he is answered with a thunderclap. | |
| WE RISE: UP FROM Dilios to reveal a sea of men stretching | |
| out over the rolling hills. Thousands upon thousands of | |
| Spartan shields blaze with the rising sun. | |
| DILIOS | |
| The enemy outnumber us a paltry | |
| three to one. Good odds for any | |
| Greek. | |
| Dilios nods into his helmet. He takes hold of his spear and | |
| shield, melting back into the phalanx. | |
| DILIOS | |
| This day we rescue a world from | |
| mysticism and tyranny. We usher in | |
| a future brighter than anything we | |
| can imagine!! | |
| Dilios lowers his chin, gripping tightly the leather on his | |
| shield and as one in rhythm with the flutes, the spears of | |
| the Spartan war machine drop into position. | |
| DILIOS | |
| Give thanks, men, to Leonidas and | |
| the brave 300. | |
| His eyes narrow, his teeth clench. Muscle and will become | |
| one. | |
| 106. | |
| DILIOS | |
| To Victory!!! | |
| WE SEE: The Spartan wall of death coming in full run. | |
| Crimson CAPES SNAPPING behind them, the GROUNDSHAKING. | |
| Feet pound and churn the earth to dust and as it thunders | |
| TOWARD us, a razor-sharp spear tip just PASSES us, we | |
| TRAVEL DOWN its length TO the Hoplites' eyes, full of hate, | |
| glinting inside bronze, and then a shield FILLS OUR VIEW. | |
| FADE TO BLACK. | |
| THE END | |