Trainspotting Screenplay by John Hodge Based on the Novel by Irvine Welsh Directed by Danny Boyle ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ COMPLETED ON 4/21/97 This is the original shooting screenplay. It contains some scenes which where cut from the final film. It was typed (yes, typed) into text format by Kale Whorton. I urge you to purchase both the novel, published by Norton (ISBN 0-393-31480-4) and the screenplay from Miramax Books/Hyperion (ISBN 0-7868-8221-2) Enjoy, Kale <mailto:nikko11@mind.net> ------------------------------------------------------------------------ *EXT. STREET. DAY* /Legs run along the pavement. They are Mark Renton's./ /Just ahead of him is Spud. They are both belting along./ /As they travel, various objects (pens, tapes, CDs, toiletries, ties, sunglasses, etc.) either fall or are discarded from inside their jackets./ /They are pursued by two hard-looking Store Detectives in identical uniforms. The men are fast, but Renton and Spud maintain their lead./ RENTON (voice-over) Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. /Suddenly, as Renton crosses a road, a car skids to a halt, inches from him./ /In a moment of detachment he stops and looks at the shocked driver, then at Spud, who has continued running, then at the Two Men, who are now closing in on him./ /He smiles./ *INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT ROOM. DAY* /In a bare, dingy room, Renton lies on the floor, alone, motionless and drugged./ RENTON (v.o) Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. *EXT. FOOTBALL PITCH. NIGHT* /On a flood lit five-a-side pitch, Renton and his friends are taking on another team at football./ /The opposition all wear an identical strip (Arsenal), whereas Renton and his friends wear an odd assortment of gear./ /Three girls -- Lizzy, Gail, and Allison and Baby -- stand by the side, watching./ /The boys are outclassed by the team with the strip but play much dirtier./ /As each performs a characteristic bit of play, the play freezes and their name is visible, printed or written on some item of clothing. (T-Shirt, baseball cap, shorts, trainers). In Begbie's case, his name appears as a tatoo on his arm./ /Sick Boy commits a sneaky foul and indignantly denies it./ /Begbie commits an obvious foul and make no effort to deny it./ /Spud, in goal, lets the ball in between his legs./ /Tommy kicks the ball as hard as he can./ /Renton's litany continues over the action:/ RENTON (v.o) Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life. /Renton is hit straight in the face by the ball. He lies back on the astroturf. Voice-over continues./ But who would I want to do a thing like that? *INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT. DAY* /Renton lies on the floor./ /Swanney, Allison and Baby, Sick Boy and Spud are shooting up or preparing to shoot up. Sick Boy is talking to Allison as he taps up a vein on her arm./ RENTON (v.o) I chose not to choose life: I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who need reasons when you've got heroin? SICK BOY /Goldfinger's/ better than /Dr. No/. Both of them are a lot better than /Diamonds are Forever/ a judgement reflected in its relative poor showing at the box office, in which field, of course, /Thunderball/ was a notable success. RENTON (v.o) People think it's all about misery and desperation and death and all that shite, which is not to be ignored, but what they forget - /Spud is shooting up / is the pleasure of it. Otherwise we wouldn't do it. After all, we're not fucking stupid. At least, we're not that fucking stupid. Take the best orgasm you ever had, multiply it by a thousand and you're still nowhere near it. When you're on junk you have only one worry: scoring. When you're off it you are suddenly obliged to worry about all sorts of other shite. Got no money: can't get pished. Got money: drinking too much. Can't get a bird: no chance of a ride. Got a bird: too much hassle. You have to worry about bills, about food, about some football team that never fucking winds, about human relationships and all the things that really don't matter when you've got a sincere and truthful junk habit. SICK BOY I would say, in those days, he was a muscular actor, in every sense, with all the presence of someone like Cooper or Lancaster, but combined with a sly wit to make him a formidable romantic lead, closer in that respect to Cary Grant. RENTON (v.o) The only drawback, or at least the principal drawback, is that you have to endure all manner of cunts telling you that - *INT. PUB I. NIGHT* /Begbie, smoking and drinking, speaks to camera./ BEGBIE No way would I poison my body with that shite, all they fucking chemicals, no fucking way. *INT. PUB I. NIGHT* /Tommy sits beside Lizzy. He speaks to camera./ TOMMY It's a waste of your life, Rents, poisoning your body with that shite. *INT. RENTON FAMILY HOME, LIVING ROOM. NIGHT* /Renton's father and mother sit at the table eating. / /Renton is seated but not eating./ FATHER Every chance you've ever had, you've blown it, stuffing your veins with that filth. *--------* *INT. ELECTRICAL RETAILERS. DAY* /Gav wears the corporate jacket./ GAV Get off that stuff, Rents and get a job. It's not as bad as it looks. While you're here, you don't fancy buying a cooker, do you? *--------* *INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT. DAY* /Sick Boy and Spud lie drugged up. Allison and Baby wait while Swanney cooks up./ /Renton is standing up./ RENTON (v.o) From time to time, even I have uttered the magic words. SWANNEY Are you serious? RENTON Yeah. No more. I'm finished with that shite. SWANNEY Well, it's up to you. RENTON I'm going to get it right this time. Going to get it set up and get off it for good. SWANNEY Sure, sure. I've heard it before. RENTON The Sick Boy method. /They both look at Sick Boy/ SWANNEY Yeah, well, it surely worked for him. RENTON He's always been lacking in moral fibre. SWANNEY He knows a lot about Sean Connery. RENTON That's hardly a substitute. SWANNEY you'll need one more hit. RENTON No, I don't think so. SWANNEY To see you through the night that lies ahead. /Freeze Frame on Swanney./ RENTON (v.o) We called him the mother superior on account of the length of his habit. He knew all about it. On it, off it, he knew it all. Of course I'd have another shot: after all, I had work to do. *INT. RENTON'S FLAT ROOM. DAY* /The door opens and Renton enters carrying shopping bags. He empties them on to a mattress beside three buckets and a television./ RENTON (v.o) Relinquishing junk. Stage One: preparation. For this you will need: one room which you will not leave; one mattress; tomato soup, ten tins of; mushroom soup, eight tins of, for consumption cold; ice cream, vanilla, one large tub of; Magnesia, Milk of, one bottle; paracetamol; mouth wash; vitamins; mineral water; Lucozade; pornography; one bucket for urine, one for feces, and one for vomitus; one television; and one bottle of Valium, which I have already procured, from my mother, who is, in her own domestic and socially acceptable way, also a drug addict. /Renton swallows several Valium tablets. Voice-over continues./ And now I'm ready. All I need is a final hit to soothe the pain while the Valium takes effect. *--------* *INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT. DAY* /Swanney, Sick Boy, Spud and Allison and Baby all lie inert while the telephone rings./ *--------* *INT. CALL BOX. DAY* /Renton curses as he slams down the receiver. He dials again. / RENTON Mikey. It's Mark Renton. Can you help me out? *INT. MIKEY'S FLAT. DAY* /Renton holds two opium suppositories in the palm of his hand./ RENTON (v.o) This was typical of Mikey Forrester. (on screen) What the fuck are these? (v.o) Under the normal run of things I would have had nothing to do with the cunt, but this was not the normal run of things. MIKEY Opium suppositories. Ideal for your purpose. Slow release, like. Bring you down gradually. Custom fucking designed for your needs. RENTON I want a fucking hit. MIKEY That's all I've got: take it or leave it. /Renton sticks his hand down the back of his trousers and sticks the suppositories into his rectum./ Feel better now? RENTON For all the good they've done me I might as well have stuck them up my arse. /He smiles./ *EXT. STREET. DAY* RENTON (v.o) Heroin makes you constipated. The heroin from ...
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