TMS-Lockwood/Matis--Monsters are Due on Maple Street

Shot of the sky...the various nebulae, and planet bodies stand out in sharp, sparkling relief.

As the CAMERA begins a SLOW PAN across the heavens--

There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man.

It is a dimension as vast as space, and as timeless as infinity.

Residential street Day Med.

The houses have front porches on which people sit and swing on gliders, conversing across from house to house.

A tree-lined little world of front porch gliders, hop scotch, the laughter of children, and the bell of an ice cream vendor.

At the sound of the roar and the flash of light it will be precisely 6:43 P.M. on Maple Street.

At this moment one of the little boys, Tommy, looks up to listen to a sound of a tremendous screeching roar from overhead.

The man who's been polishing his car and now he stands there transfixed, staring upwards.

A meteor?

CLOSE SHOT, man screwing a light bulb on a front porch, then getting down off the stool to flick the switch and finding that nothing happens.

Her voice is indistinct and distant, but intelligible and repetitive.

As the people again murmur softly in wonderment and question.

As the people again murmur softly in wonderment and question.

A little power failure and right away we get all flustered and everything.

A serious-faced fourteen-year-old in spectacles who stands a few feet away from the group, halfway between them and the two men who start to walk down the sidewalk.

Tommy (very intently)

As he knits his brows for a moment, cocking his head questioningly.

Woman One (to the boy's mother, Sally, who stands on the fringe of the crowd)

Likely as not-- (he turns to the group, now trying to weight his words with an optimism he obviously doesn't feel but is desperately trying to instill in himself as well as the others)

Don (picking up the cue)

The boy suddenly stops again, conscious of the parents staring at them and of the sudden hush of the crowd.

Sally (in a whisper, sensing the antagonism of the crowd)

He stops suddenly as behind him, inexplicably and with a noise that inserts itself into the silence, the car engine starts up all by itself.

He wasn't even interested. (he turns to the faces in the group, his face taut and serious)

In this brief fraction of a moment they take the first step toward performing a metamorphosis that changes people from a group into a mob.

For a moment their fear almost turns their walk into a wild stampede, but Steve's voice, loud, incisive, and commanding, makes them stop.

For a moment their fear almost turns their walk into a wild stampede, but Steve's voice, loud, incisive, and commanding, makes them stop.

Steve (interjecting)

Woman One (a little reluctantly)

ABRUPT CUT TO: 52.

I'm guilty of insomnia.

From the various houses we can see candlelight but no electricity, and there's an all-pervading quiet that blankets the whole area, disturbed only by the almost whispered voices of the people as they stand around.

Let's pick out every idiosyncrasy of every single man, woman, and child on the street.

And then we might as well set up some kind of a kangaroo court.

He stands there defiantly close to them.

And stop telling me who's dangerous and who isn't and who's safe and who's a menace. (he turns to the group and shouts)

You're standing here all set to crucify - all set to find a scapegoat - all desperate to point some kind of a finger at a neighbor!

One of the women lets out a stifled cry.

Duplicating above as each man reacts to hearing offstage footsteps.

As they stand there, fearful, apprehensive, mothers clutching children, men standing in front of wives.

Charlie (looks around at the circle of faces, his eyes frightened, his face contorted)

He looks off toward his house, realizing the implications of the lights coming on in his house.

We can see the crowd converging on the porch now.

As they shout, accuse, scream, interspersing with cuts of TILT SHOTS OF HOUSES as the lights go on and off, and then slowly in the middle of this nightmarish morass of sight and sound the CAMERA STARTS TO PULL AWAY, until once again we've reached the opening shot looking at the Maple Street sign from high above.

Which sits shrouded in darkness.

An open door throws out a beam of light from the illuminated interior.

We get only a vague feeling of form, but nothing more explicit than that.

There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices - to be found only in the minds of men.