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V for VendettA: LOTS TO SAY

by Evey V Thursday, Sep. 07, 2006 at 1:32 PM

A Brief Sample of "V" and Evey discussing why they must fight... The government is openly fascist - we should be so lucky!

V for VendettA:  LOT...
v_for_vendetta.jpg, image/jpeg, 2100x1359

Those were almost the very first
words he spoke to me and, in a way,
that is where this story began,
four hundred years ago, in a cellar
beneath the Houses of Parliament.

In the darkness, we find a lantern. Guy Fawkes, a dangerous
man who wears a goatee, is struggling with a wheelbarrow
stacked with barrels of gunpowder.

In 1605, Guy Fawkes attempted to
blow up the Houses of Parliament.
He was caught in the cellars with
enough gunpowder to level most of

Guy sees lanterns coming from both sides. He tries to run as
the dogs reach him first. He grabs for his sword as dozens
of pole axes pin him against the tunnel's stone wall.

Sometimes I wonder where we would
be if he hadn't failed. I wonder
if it would have mattered.

In the dim pre-dawn light, Guy is led to the gallows.

I suppose the answer is in the
rhyme. More than the man, what we
must remember is the plot itself.
For in the plot we find more than
just a man, we find the idea of
that man, the spirit of that man,
and that is what we must never

The lever is thrown and the woman looks down, a tear falling
down her face.

This, then, is the story of that
idea, of that spirit that began
with an anarchist's plot four
hundred years ago.
I don't remember much of the
century's turn. I don't remember
the market crash or the plague or
any of the Trafalgar riots.

The television flickers with images of heavily armed soldiers
fighting in a shelled city.

I've read about them since but I
don't recall how any of them
impacted my life except for the
fear. They would hide it from me,
like a secret between them.

Little Evey sees her father staring at her mother. They
take hold of each other's hand, clasping them tight.

But I could feel it.
It must have seemed so easy to
them. They offered such a simple
deal; give up control and we will
restore order.

The sound of heavy boots swarms through the house.


Her bedroom door bursts open and a heavily armed soldier
scoops her up.

She is carried through the dark house which is filled with
soldiers. On the floor of the living room, she sees her
parents being bound with plastic zip-ties.

My daughter! Don't take my

Evey! Evey!

Mommy! Daddy!

A heavy black hood is pulled over each of her parent's heads
as Evey is carried out of the house.

I never saw them again. Overnight,
my life, my entire world was


A nun with a switch in her crossed arms watches as Evey and
several other little girls scrub the floor of a dormitory

It was done so quickly and
violently, so completely, that it
began to seem that it had never
even existed.

A tear rolls down Little Evey's cheek.


A gay man is dragged violently from his Piccadilly home.
Outside, he sees his lover being forced to the cobblestones.

The homosexuals were next. What
God had started with AIDS had to be
finished by man. It was God's
work. That's what we were told.

He reaches for him as the clubs rise and fall, vicious and

But once they were gone, there was
someone else. Someone different.

In another neighborhood, we see the police arresting

Someone dangerous.

In a different area, young black men are packed into a caged
van so tightly they are unable to move.

There were those who understood
what was happening, who knew it was
wrong but who kept silent.

A young detective named Finch looks down as the van pulls
away. When he looks up, another man in a military uniform
whose name is Almond is watching him.

And in the vacuum of that silence,
order was imposed.

What they thought they had crushed,
the spirit they believed trampled
and ground beneath the marching of
their boots, rose up, rose as if
from a four hundred year old grave,
rose to remind us all that day.

The shadow sprays a "V" over the poster.

Police raided seventeen homes in
the Birmingham area, uncovering
what is believed to be a major
terrorist ring.

"The multiplying villainies of
nature do swarm upon him."
"And fortune, on his damned
quarrel, smiling, showed like a
rebel's whore."

We're police officers, pal.

We're with the Finger.

So bugger off!

"Disdaining fortune with his
brandished steel, which smoked with
bloody execution."

In the clenched fist of black leather, we see a flash of

It takes a handful of seconds and three bodies lay on the
ground. V turns to the last Fingerman who is struggling to
pull his pants up.

Jesus Christ! Don't hurt me!
Who -- Who are you?

Me? I imagine all manner of names
shall be heaped upon my humble
visage but, for now, let us simply
say I am the villain.

He throws wide his cloak and bows deeply to her.

And you would be?


Of course.

They hear sirens rushing towards them. In a blink, he scoops
her up and dashes into the shadows of a narrow alleyway.


Police cars and several ambulances swarm over the area with
the dead Fingermen.

V watches them from above.

Why did you do that? Why did
you... help me?

Why indeed?

He takes out an old antique pocket watch. It is almost

Almost time.

For what?

For the music.


Yes, music. My music. You see.
Evey, I am a performer.

Is that why you're wearing a mask?

We all wear masks. Life creates
them and forces us to find the one
that fits. Do you know what day it

Uh... November fourth.

Not for long.
"Remember, remember, the fifth of
November, the gunpowder treason and
plot. I know of no reason why the
gunpowder treason should ever be
The music mounts a climax and V points the wand at Big Ben as
cymbals crash --

Big Ben explodes with such force the world seems to shake,
while --

V, smiling, always smiling, points again with another
crescendo and --

The statue of justice is blown to smithereens.

V nods in appreciation while mustering the music towards it's
finale as fireworks begin lighting up the sky.

Oh my...

Everywhere across the city, people stand transfixed by the
dazzling shimmer of the fireworks until --

A strobing final blitz leaves a single, starry image floating
in the smoke filled sky.

It is the letter V.

It's beautiful...

Thank you.

From every direction, the city screams with the panicked
sound of sirens.

She punches a button and Billie Holiday begins to sing.

Oh, it's beautiful. I've never
heard anything like it.

Of course not. You grew up in
their world. Art is created by
individuals and there are no
individuals in a world where you
are told what to think.

This place is amazing.

You're welcome to stay.
I... I don't even know your name.

I don't have a name. But you can

call me V.

Government LEADER:
I believe in a few things, Mr.
Finch. I believe in god. I
believe in the destiny of the
Nordic race. And I believe in
fascism. The romans invented
fascism. They had a symbol for it;
a bundle of twigs bound together.
One twig could be broken but a
bundle would prevail. That is the
heart and soul of fascism.
Strength in unity. I tell you
these things knowing full well that
they make you uncomfortable.

This terrorist knows us, Finch.
These attacks are perfectly
calculated and they are divisive.
He knows what he's doing, Finch.
He knows us all too well.

You think he's an insider?

What I think is that this man must
be stopped. Stopped at all costs
and no one, I repeat, no one is to
be placed above suspicion. Do I
make myself clear?
I was reading the inscription.
What is it?

A Latin quotation. A motto. "Vi
veri veniversum vivus vici." "By
the power of truth, I, while
living, have conquered the

She nods.

Yes, I suppose you have. This
place is the only universe I have
right now.

Does that bother you?

I don't know. I'm so grateful to
you -- I just feel I should help
you, you know, the way you're
helping me. I mean, that's the
deal, isn't it?

V drifts over to the big old Wurlitzer, fingers scanning the
song list.

No deals, Evey. Not unless you
want them.

She looks up at the inscription as an old blues song begins
to play.

I think I do. Part of me wants to
stay here forever and never have to
face what's going on outside. But
that's not right. Is it? That's
not taking responsibility. Not
conquering my universe.

She turns to him.

I want to help you, V. I want to
do something. Can we make a deal?

Yes. I think we can make a deal if
you like. I think I know a way you
could help me very soon indeed.

Evey smiles nervously.

Good. That's that, then.

The blues song curls in the air around them like a heavy

V, you said that Latin thing was a
quote. Who said it?

Nobody you'd have heard of. A
German gentleman named Dr. John

He spins her.

He made a deal too.
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My ScreenPlay is Better

by V evey Friday, Sep. 08, 2006 at 7:31 PM

I am writing a screenplay about a young woman who takes out revenge on the generals and the moderates who were involved in/responsible for an urban bombing campaign the government will do in 2010 to stop a rebellion… She wants vengeance for the deaths of her friends and the betrayal the resistance suffered.

Its simple, clear, direct… human…

But I also like V for Vendetta because he holds a grudge a long time.

His message is: “ Listen asshole torturers, eventually I will get you or someone like me will get you – I don’t care if you are an 80 year old lady like Delia, when we find you we will kill you… and maybe do even more – torture, your family, friends, …

She starts to cry again.
Oh god, all these years. All this
waiting. And somehow I always knew
you'd come back.

Delia thinks back.
When I saw you that night -- the
night you escaped, you were
standing against the flames and you
looked straight at me.

The mask almost nods.
I knew then that one day you'd come
looking for me, that you'd find me.

Her voice drops to an almost confessional whisper.
What -- what happened at Larkhill.
What we did -- What I did. That
terrible knowledge, it's been with
me so long. That I could do things
like that.

Delia rubs the salty tears from her eyes.
For years, I blamed it on the
government, on the authority I
could never stand up to. But
living so long with the knowledge
of what I did has made me
understand otherwise. I alone was

V watches her.
There is something wrong with us.
With all of mankind. With me.
Something evil that made me enjoy
what I did. Some hideous flaw.

Her voice almost trails off.
We deserve to be culled. We
deserve it.

… V
There are no coincidences, Delia.
Only the illusion of coincidence.

He reaches into his cloak.
I have another rose. This one is
for you.

He hands it to her.
Then you are going to kill me now?

V produces an empty syringe.
I killed you ten minutes ago.
While you slept.
Is there any pain?

V sits on the bed.
No. No pain.
Thank you.

She stares at the mask.
Can I -- Can I see your face again?

V slowly pulls off his hat and lifts his mask. Delia stares
into his face.

And what about: The Pursuit of Happiness – it’s in Declaration of Independence – it’s our right!

BUT as V in V for Vendetta says upon releasing his friend Evey

from the fake prison/torture cell:

Happiness is the most insidious
prison of all, Evey.

I hate you.

Her little, wiry body coils tight as she circles him.

I hate you! Set me free? You put
me in a prison to set me free?!

You were already in a prison.
You've been in a prison all your

Shut up! I don't want to hear it.
I wasn't in a prison. I was happy!
I was happy here --

Happiness is the most insidious
prison of all, Evey.

That's warped! That's evil and
it's wrong! What gives you the
right to judge? Who are you to say
what's not good enough?!

You were born in a prison, Evey. I
didn't put you there. I just
showed you the bars. You've been
in a prison so long, you no longer
believe there's an outside world.

She wheels away from him, covering her ears, trying to get
away from his voice.

Shut up! You're mad! I don't want
to hear it!

That's because you're afraid, Evey.
You're afraid because you can feel
freedom closing in on you. You're
afraid because freedom is

A psychology based on the values of sharing, decency and love would teach how to help people put up with as much unhappiness as possible in order to prepare people to struggle for a fair and a just world. And so would a decent politics, ideology, religion, etc…

The Luckiest Man in the World

Most people who are young and homeless are crazy. But I’m not crazy. I’m just down on luck. I guess I’ve had some lucky days though, like when I found that trash bag full of loafs of bread behind the bakery. I ate one or two loafs and traded the rest to my friends. Some of them gave me hand-rolled cigarettes in exchange. Others gave me booze, and…
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