"THE DOORS" Screenplay by Randall Jahnson and Oliver Stone SHOOTING DRAFT 1991 INT. BLACK SCREEN MORRISON'S VOICE The movie will begin in five moments The mindless voice announced All those unseated will await the next show We filed slowly, languidly into the hall The auditorium was fast and silent As we seated and were darkened The voice continued "The program for this evening is not new You've seen this entertainment Through and through You've seen your birth, your life and death You might recall all the rest Did you have a good world when you died? Enough to base a movie on?" FADE IN: INT. RECORDING STUDIO (LAST SESSION) - LA DEC 1970 - NIGHT A dark silence hovers along the deserted, bunker-like studio. MIKE stands and booms shadow a grand piano... The ENGINEER waits in the booth, lit, alert man, bored, fiddling... ENGINEER Hey Jim, It's your birthday man, whaddaya say we try this another night... Camera moving tentatively along the shadows, discovering the sidelight on a Navy surplus pea jacket thrown on a chair; moving to a candle's orange flutter on pages written with verse... a hand breaking the seal of the bottle of Irish Bushmill's whiskey. VOICE (off) Kill the lights a little more, will ya John? They might drop a bit more... Camera crawling past the FINGERS weaving a new cigarette out of the Marlboro pack. An ashtray full of butts... and an asthmatic horrid cough, filled with phlegm... crawling up the slight paunch in the bright jersey with #66 on it... stitched on the sleeve is the team mascot -- an American Indian in full headdress. ENGINEER (off) Hey man, how come the Doors aren't in on this? Camera revealing JAMES DOUGLAS MORRISON, -- 27, poet, buried in the shadows, curls of cigarette smoke about his haunted sensuous eyes, meditative lips scragged with beard and long greasy hair, not a pretty sight, yet a man full and bold and struggling for survival through his words... beneath the Bushmill moon, he takes the tambourine and shakes it violently in our face JIM No music, No Doors. Let's roll... Is everybody in?... Is Everybody in?... Is everybody in? The ceremony is about to begin... He shakes a TAMBOURINE at the mike and one of his sudden giant Indian YELLS rock through the studio. JIM WAKE UP!!!! HAS THIS DREAM STOPPED!!!! Music riffs from "American Prayer". AUDIENCE SOUNDS ghostly on the track. The ENGINEER reeling backwards from the sudden shift in sound, cursing silent. JIM VOICE Let me tell you about the heartache and the loss of God Wandering wandering in hopeless night Indian's scattered on dawn's highway bleeding ghosts crowd the young childs fragile eggshell mind... (wind sounds) The GRIN on Jim's face magnesium flares out to: EXT. ARIZONA DESERT - DAY (1940'S) The blinding YELLOWNESS of the desert, so barren, so hot it stings to look at. An OLD CHEVROLET winds through the yellow- orange landscape beneath a brooding blue SKY crackling with ELECTRICITY -- the storm coming in in the distance as the MUSIC writhes out at us like a reptile from under a rock -- the beat of RIDERS ON THE STORM. DOORS SONG Riders on the storm (2) Into this house we're born Into this world we're thrown Like a dog without a bone An actor out on loan Riders on the storm CREDITS ROLL, OVER THIS DREAMSCAPE JIM VOICE (continues over imagery) ...me and my mother and father and grandmother and grandfather were driving through the desert at dawn and a truckload of Indian workers had either hit another car or just -- I don't know what happened... Indians were scattered all over the highway bleeding to death. INT. CAR - DAY MOM, DAD, the youngest BABY in the front seat -- pointing at the storm. GRANDMA & GRANDAD in the back with JIM, about 4 and his SISTER, 3 asleep. Mom's a beauty and Dad's an austere handsome military man in civilian clothes, mouthing words -- look, wake them up, a desert storm... but we barely hear A LIGHTNING BOLT shreds the blue sky with a thunderous sound, frightening dawn of creation... Grandma nudging Jim awake. His eyes open -- Just as the car turns the bend -- revealing An overturned TRUCK lying in the road -- dead and wounded INDIANS everywhere... A cop car, ambulance. A terrible accident... The first thing Jim sees... An old INDIAN FACE staring at him... The car pulling alongside, Dad rolling his window down... asking if he can help (SOUNDLESS) A line of wailing INDIAN WOMEN, CHILDREN Mom's scared face... JIM VOICE ...but it was the first time I tasted fear. I musta been about four, like a child is just like a flower, his head is floating in the breeze. Grandma trying to hide Jim's face but he looks back... THE COP WAVING THEM THROUGH The kid looking back through the rear window, terrified -- his first view of death. The bodies, the sense of doom overlaying the land -- a child's worst nightmare. MOM It's just a dream, Jimmy, just a dream SONG (continues) There's a killer on the road His brain is squirming like a toad Take a long holiday Let your children play If you give this man a ride Sweet family will die There's a killer on the road The boy's eyes going back to the Indian MAN looking at him... then to the dying opened body bleeding out its guts on the asphalt... the dying man's face, twisted, moaning, amazing eyes at the point of death -- they settle on Jim MOM It's just a dream Jimmy, just a dream A strange SOUND occurs -- the rattle of an ancient gourd, "shi-chi-chi, shi-chi-chi". Something flying through the air. A bull-roarer, a whirling leather thong, announcing the appearance of a shaman. INTO JIM -- his eyes staring out the back His receding point of view -- the Indians, the overturned truck... JIM VOICE ...The reaction I get now looking back is the soul of the ghosts of those dead Indians -- maybe one or two of them were just running around freaking out and just leaped into my soul -- and they're still there. (wind, music) SONG Girl you gotta love your man (2) Take him by the hand Make him understand The car pulling away across the giant 1940's landscape DISSOLVING TO: EXT. ARIZONA DESERT - DAY (1963) SUBTITLE READS: ARIZONA DESERT, 1963. CREDITS CONTINUE TO ROLL. Panning up the black chino pants to JIM MORRISON, now 20, steel seaman's suitcase in hand, thumbing a ride, the road sign behind him saying "Los angeles 370 miles" SONG The world on you depends Our life will never end Girl you gotta love your man A LARGE LIZARD in the dust cocks its head, blinks, as the boots walk by to the car pulling over. INT. CAR JIM in the backseat packed with HUSBAND, WIFE, CHILDREN, DOG, MOTHER-IN-LAW. Between boy and man, eyes ancient and new. He wears his favorite color: black -- torn black chinos, paint-spotted black t-shirt, a slouch his favorite pose but the eyes and smile can be warm and shy like a little boy, gentle surface, storm in the brain. The HUSBAND, now looking at Jim a little nervously, pushes up the Perry Como on the radio... as it cuts to a sudden news flash: RADIO ...from the Texas School Book Depository. We repeat. President John F. Kennedy was shot a few minutes ago in Dallas! SLOW MOTION: The Husband's face distorting, saying something on the track like: "What! God NO!" but it's subdued, low. Trying other stations. Jim turns to look out his window, as if he already knew. RADIO (2nd VOICE) ...taken to Parkland Memorial Hospital. There's no word on the President's condition. Mrs. Kennedy is... The WIFE'S and HUSBAND'S VOICES seem lost in the background. WIFE & HUSBAND Oh God, Oh God. Not the President for Christ's sake. Oh God -- WHO'S NEXT? On Jim -- staring out the window. "Who's next!" SONG Riders on the storm (4) On the DESERT. DISSOLVE TO: EXT. VENICE BOARDWALK - LOS ANGELES - DAY (1965) SUBTITLE READS: VENICE, CALIFORNIA 1965 CREDITS continue to their conclusion as we segue into the BLUENESS of VENICE, CALIFORNIA, 1965 -- the dawn of a new age. All was possible. Individual SHOTS of the BOARDWALK throbbing with a feast of HIPPIES, head shops, ARTISTS drawing psychedelic murals, POT SMOKERS, MUSCLE BUILDERS, tambourines accompanying the transister radios on the Beach Boys and "I Got You Babe", dogs chasing frisbees, BIKINI BODIES on the beach, LSD sold over the counter... set to the upbeat chords of HELLO I LOVE YOU DOORS SONG Hello I love you Won't you tell me your name? Hello I love you Let me jump in your game She's walking down the street Blind to every eye she meets Do you think you'll be the guy To make the queen of the angels sigh? JIM, in torn black chinos, no shirt, walking real slow past it all, carrying a notebook of his own and a paperback of Baudelaire, his eyes settling on... A YOUNG BEAUTY and her yellow labrador -- a fashionable thin, long, red-haired "20th century fox" in jeans moving through the crowd... He thinks about it -- a fraction of eternity -- and he's off... after her. EXT. VENICE CANAL - DAY She moves along its banks, as if the universe moved to her rhythm, turning once to look back. Jim caught in her eyes. They're alone. Now he's the one seized by doubt. He slows, pretends to take another interest. DOORS SONG She holds her head so high Like a statue in the sky Her arms are wicked And her legs are long When she moves My brain screams out this song EXT. VENICE CANAL - ANOTHER CANAL - DAY As she turns into another street, he resumes following her. She gets to a house, goes in. There's a group of people partying. He stops, watches. DOORS SONG Sidewalk crouches at her feet Like a dog that begs for something sweet Do you hope to make her see you, fool? Do you hope to pluck this dusky jewel? EXT. PAMELA'S HOUSE - VENICE CANAL - THAT EVENING The two story house has a quaint run-down charm. Friends have dropped by, people smoking joints, beers. She's on the upstairs balcony -- talking with a YOUNG MAN (professor type) in his 30's, who passes her a joint. JIM lurks in the shadows of the trees; he's been standing outside watching... The MUSIC shifts to the quieter LOVE STREET. DOORS SONG She lives on Love Street Lingers long on Love Street She has a house and garden I would like to see what happens The YOUNG MAN gestures, and goes back inside the house. She's alone now on the balcony, sitting on a kitchen table... It's now or never. Jim scales the tree alongside the house with the agility of a gymnast. DOORS SONG She has robes and she has monkeys Lazy diamond studded flunkies She has wisdom and knows what to do She has me and she has you The girl's grinding up pot in an old shoebox with a spoon and kitchen strainer. She looks up and sees his crotch three feet from her face, balanced there effortlessly on the railing like a highwire act, opens her mouth in surprise. Jim drops softly to the balcony, a smile of disarming gentleness. JIM Hi... GIRL Wow! Hi... (looking at the tree) You have a problem with doors? JIM Waste of time... His head cocked slightly onto his left shoulder, he drawls, southern gentleman, polite, slow, thoughtful as if he had all the time in the world, as if the guy would never come back. JIM I followed you... from the beach... GIRL (impressed) Wow! You followed me? Why? JIM ...cause... you're the one... He moves. Kisses her swiftly, softly, right on the lips. GIRL (mesmerized, awkward) Wow... neat... (looks back) ...maybe you should meet my old man? JIM Later. You got a name? He looks into her face. Classic American face, freckles, big round eyes soft as rain, long sunset red hair. She feels his intense, starving eyes. He kisses her a second time. The YOUNG MAN coming back with the rolling paper -- sees him. As he hops back on the railing -- swings out into the tree -- looks back once. JIM Mine's Jim. A moment. She must decide. The YOUNG MAN within earshot. GIRL Pam... The ice broken in that instant. Jim smiles. JIM Jim and Pam, Pam and Jim... He vanishes. The Man abreast of Pamela, as if he's seen a vision. YOUNG MAN Who the hell was that? PAMELA (everything's cool) That's Jim. My new friend. INT. UCLA SCREENING ROOM - DAY (1965) On the screen a 16mm black and white student film of a stunning BLOND in black bra, panties, garters dancing in black heels on top of a TV set. panning down to images of goose-stepping Nazis and a Nuremberg rally on the set. Sounds of lovemaking and an Indian peyote ceremony from the track, an Indian holy man incanting... Jim's VOICE comes on the track as well. JIM'S VOICE Nietzche said "all great things must first wear monstrous and terrifying masks in order to inscribe themselves on the hearts of humanity". Listen children -- to the sound of the Nuremberg night. STUDENTS in the audience groan at the pretention of it. Moving to JIM's eyes hidden in his parka hood, peeking through at the screen. A CLOSEUP now of JIM on screen looking straight into the lens as he takes a hit on a hash pipe, and winks. JIM VOICE (on screen) Have you ever seen God? -- a mandala. A symmetrical angel. Felt? Yes. Fucking the Sun. Heard? The music. Voices. Touched? An animal. Your hand Tasted? Rare meat, corn, water and wine STUDENTS (ad lib) SSSSssss... ego trip man, c'mon! RAY MANZAREK, a tall student with powerful voice and manner, thick glasses, long hair sweeping down over his eyes, leans over to Jim. RAY Hey man it's great, don't listen to em, it's non-linear man, it's poetry man, everything Godard stands for. The lights coming on as the last absurdist images flicker off. Hissing and a big Bronx cheer summarize the feelings of the 100 odd STUDENTS crammed into a bunker-like theater. A youngish INSTRUCTOR stirs to the front row from a row of upset FACULTY. Hands shooting up to criticize. INSTRUCTOR This is pretty shocking stuff Mr. Morrison. And I might say indulgent. Naziism and masturbation, when used for shock value, are not art. But to be constructive, let's start with your intention. What was it? STUDENT 1 It was a bore!! That's what! (laughter) TRICK, BONES and JACK, three friends sitting next to Jim, shoot their hands up. TRICK Hey it was better'n a Warhol picture. GIRL 1 No it wasn't. It was worse! TRICK A guy sleeping for seven hours... STUDENT 2 ...is less pretentious! There was no political consciousness. Naziism is... JACK Hey hold on man! You guys are the facists! BONES It takes genitalism to absurdity man, just cause the squares here can't dig it cause the film school's still so square... VOICES Oh c'mon man, give it a break. Boo! Beatniks go home! Take another mushroom... A cacophony of voices, critics, emotions blend out over Jim's quiet eyes. INSTRUCTOR HOLD IT DOWN!!... Mr. Morrison -- what are your feelings? JIM I quit. (walks out) EXT. TURKEY JOINT WEST - NIGHT JIM, BONES, TRICK, JACK approaching the bar. MUSIC of "GLORIA" blasting from the door, CHICKS popping in and out, definitely college crowd circa '65. TRICK (to Jim) Hey man whatdya expect, an Oscar? BONES You can't quit, you gotta voice. People can't dig cause they don't understand yet. JACK If you're an individual, if you're too good, they wanna cut your dick off. Look what happened to Orson Wells. TRICK You quit now, they'll yank your deferment in no time and they'll get you for Vietnam man. Three more months you graduate. BONES Be cool, you never learned fuckin patience Morrison, you want everything at once. NICK They didn't get it. So make your films and fuck what they think. JIM You know what I think? He slows, a dramatic young lion pose, surveying the girls. BONES Yeah whadday you think? JIM You really want to know what I think? The cronies wait, anticipating something inescapably evil to escape his lips. BONES Yeah yeah, whatddaya think? JIM I think we gotta get really ripped! INT. TURKEY JOINT WEST - NIGHT Tall bespectacled RAY MANZAREK is banging out GLORIA on the piano in bad Jerry Lee Lewis style. RAY I tell you bout my baby 'bout five foot four from head to toe She came to my room Just 'bout midnight She makes me feel so good She makes me feel alright Camera moving to reveal JOHN DENSMORE wiry, solid on the drums... moving on to ROBBIE KRIEGER, wispy, ethereal looking, the youngest, flamenco-type moves on his early electric guitar. Also a HARMONICA PLAYER and a BASE. They all seem slightly embarrassed by either the cheap sound system feedback or Ray's warbling, but the crowd couldn't care less -- a German beerhall, they want noise and sex. JIM and his GANG, beers in hand, mouth back the words, beers everywhere shoved to the smokey ceiling, everyone on their feet, nuts with spring fever. Jim eyeing the GIRL next to him. JIM You know what I'd like to do to you? GIRL (waiting, intrigued) No what? JIM You really want to know what I'd like to do to you? GIRL What! The FOOTBALL TEAM TYPES edge over nearby, one of them picking out Jim with a glare. JIM (whispering) Wanna hear the scream of the butterfly... She looks puzzled by the suggestion. FOOTBALL PLAYER Hey Morrison! JIM (eluding the man) Can we have a couple of beers. You're not even an asshole man -- you're a semihole. He evades the football man's grasp, elusive physicality. He hops over tables, heading for the stage. Other KIDS are up on the stage dancing, but Jim goes right up alongside RAY, shaking his hips like Elvis. Ray giving him the mike. Improv time. JIM (singing) She came to my room She came on my floor She came on my bed She came on my face Ooooooh I want to wrap your legs around my head baby baby and her name was Gloria They love it. The place going wild. The girl with the football player wanting him. INT. RAY'S CAR - FREEWAY - NIGHT JIM is insane on beers in the back seat, reaching over the wheel to try to drive the car for RAY who is flailing at him. Jim pulling Ray's hair... JIM (barely comprehensible) HA HA HA HA HA! COME ON, LET'S DRIVE TO MEXICO MAN. TIJUANA. LET'S GET LOST! Jammed into the sedan are TRICK, BONES, ROBBIE, JOHN... RAY & ALL COOL IT JIM, COME ON COOL IT. JIM FREEDOM!!! DON'T YOU KNOW YOU'RE ALL SLAVES! As he winds down the window and starts crawling out of the car. Heavy traffic. Ray weaving to avoid another vehicle. Honking horn. JOHN HE'S GOING OUT! HE'S GOING OUT! TRICK HE'S GONNA JUMP! RAY GET HIM BACK IN! His waist is out the window, John and all grabbing for his heels. EXT. SPEEDING CAR - NIGHT SPECIAL EFFECT: JIM's head six inches from pavement moving at 60 mph through heavy traffic. Screaming, laughing like a maniac. Beeping horns all over the place. JIM DEATH OLD FRIEND!! In the car, madness, raging chaos, the four boys pulling him in. EXT./INT. PAMELA'S HOUSE - VENICE CANAL - THAT NIGHT Night. Shadows. A tree. A figure moving. JIM (SONG) Awake! Shake dreams from your hair, my pretty child my sweet one Choose the day and choose the sign of your day The day's divinity the first thing you see Jim slides her upstairs' door open, crawls in next to her bed. She's asleep with her boyfriend. He touches her toe. She awakes, startled. JIM Come on, come out for a walk, it's a pretty night. PAM You're crazy! EXT. VENICE CANALS - NIGHT JIM and PAMELA moving along the byways. A clear starry California night. JIM (SONG) A vast radiant beach And a cool jewelled moon Couples naked, race down by its quiet side And we laugh like soft mad children There's a crash. They turn bristling. A COYOTE lurks under the sickly light of a streetlamp, pulling its head from an overstuffed garbage can, looking back at them. EXT. VENICE BOARDWALK - NIGHT Fires on the boardwalk. Hippies, Bums, Older People. JIM and PAM move through talking, skipping, touching like children. JIM (SONG) ...smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy The music and voices are all around us Choose, they croon, the ancient ones The time has come again EXT. VENICE BEACH - NIGHT The two of them race down by its side, slowing to a walk. His [...] loved orphan voice. JIM Can I stay with you tonight? We could talk 'till dawn. I just don't want to be alone. PAM (hesitant) Okay... just talk though. No funny stuff. JIM Okay. I promise. PAM I've been real upset. I lost my car on the freeway yesterday. I left it somewhere and I can't remember where and when I went back it was gone. My sister... JIM I bet you never expected life could be this hard. (strokes her hair affectionately) And you're still so young. She breaks into sobs, seeking his arms. He hugs her. JIM I wonder where we'll be ten years from now? PAM I really don't want to know JIM Come on. JIM (SONG) Choose now, they croon Beneath the moon Beside an ancient lake Enter again the sweet forest Enter the hot dream Come with us Everything is broken up and dances EXT. VENICE BUILDING - NIGHT Their silhouettes mount the fire escape of a jagged old structure overlooking the boardwalk. EXT. VENICE ROOFTOP - NIGHT PAM glancing through Jim's notebooks as they sit on his sleeping bag with a lantern and bunsen burner, overlooking moon, ocean, scudding clouds and a vast forest of television antennas. Fires burn from the beach. In the notebooks, at intervals during the conversation, we see powerful sketches colored in visionary hallucinogenic William Blake mode with writing between. Books are everywhere -- panning Kerouac, Ginsberg, Nietzsche, Rimbaud, Mailer, Artaud, mythological works, shamanistic books, a library of stolen ideas. PAM (reading, looking) These are like beautiful! I never read much poetry in school. I hated it. What's a "shaman"? (mispronounces) JIM He's the medicine man who starts in a peyote trance. And he gets everyone in the tribe going and they share in his vision and it heals them. It's the same in all cultures -- Greeks, Jesus. Some Indians say the first shaman invented sex. He's the one who makes you crazy. PAM Are you a "shaman"? JIM Uh (pause) no. I just write about it. What turns you on? PAM I don't know. Experience. Freedom. Love... Now. Peyote's like love. When it's given it's blessed. When it's sold it's damned. I like peyote. I like acid, it's easier to get. I like the spiritual voyage. The first time I did acid I saw God. I did. I had a friend who was Christ. And he was Judas too. I suddenly knew the secret of everything -- that we're all one, the universe is one. And that everything is beautiful. JIM Is it? I don't know. I think you're alive by confronting death -- by experiencing pain. PAM I think you're alive by recognizing beauty -- seeing truth because when you discover truth you discover what love is... we're all saying the same thing. It's "love me and I'll love you." JIM (looks at her, ironic) It's only thru death that you know life. Jesus, medicine men heal people by sacrificing their own life. PAM Do you love Death? JIM I think life hurts a lot more than death. When you die the pain is over. Pam shivers, a strange thought. PAM Why do I look at you... and see my death? (pause, shrugs) No, that's ridiculous. JIM I bet your dad's a school teacher. PAM How did you know! JIM I don't know. PAM What was your father? JIM Military PAM I bet you moved around a lot. JIM Yeah, about 8 times. PAM How many sisters and brothers? JIM Two. PAM One... she's the pretty one... I love your neck. (she gets in his lap) He runs his fingers thru her hair, kissing her gently. JIM "...but one, the most beautiful one of all dances in a ring of fire and throws off the challenge with a shrug" PAM That's beautiful. Who did you write it for? JIM I wrote it for you. The panties coming off. Rousseau dangling from the Venice moon. He moves a little over excited, nervous, more awkward than we might expect. PAM ...take your time, Jim... there's no hurry, I'm all you have to do tonight... DOORS SONG Well the clock says it's time to close now I guess I'd better go now... As we depart the rooftop. Your fingers weak with minarets Speaking secret alphabets I light another cigarette Learn to forget, learn to forget, learn to forget DISSOLVE TO: Possibly we hear the soft backbeat of MOONLIGHT DRIVE without lyrics. RAY MANZAREK is meditating in yoga posture, longer hair as well, in his post-graduate phase, sandals, colorful hippie shirt. But the meditation is not going well. He's shaking his head at himself, frowning. RAY Om om... No bliss! No bliss! Jim has approached closer, amused, looking down. JIM Hey Ray, try acid man, it's guaranteed. Ray opening his eyes -- his POV -- Jim, slouched, jacket over his shoulder, sun behind him. RAY (surprised) Morrison... Aw shit. Last trip I thought I was going through hell's digestive system. Something painted by Hieronymus Bosch. JIM I never had a bummer on acid. RAY I like naturally high man. JIM Whatever works. Making movies at MGM yet? RAY Well I saw the head of production and I said Godard doesn't use scripts, he improvises with his camera and he said, "great who's Godard?" JIM (laughs) We gotta take the planet back, reinvent the Gods, make new myths. RAY Right on. I thought you went to New York? JIM Never got there. Went out to the desert and uh... got lost y'know. Days. I been living on Trick's rooftop. Got stuck on this chick... RAY Whatcha been doing? JIM Writing. Poems. Songs. RAY Songs? Lemme hear one. JIM I can't sing. RAY So neither can Dylan. "Johnny's in the basement mixing up the medicine, I'm on the pavement thinking about the government". But he's got the words man. That's what they want. JIM (suddenly sings) Let's swim to the moon un hunh Let's climb thru the tide Penetrate the evening That the city sleeps to hide Jim has crouched, digging his hand in the sand. As the grains spill out of his fist he has his eyes closed. Ray pantomimes chords in the keyboard sand. All of a sudden we're in RAY'S POV -- a mystical moment. Jim singing, no sound, then pure song, unadulterated by atmosphere. JIM Let's swim out tonight love It's our turn to try Parked beside the ocean On our moonlight drive Jim stops, shrugs. Ray looks at him a long beat. Intense eyes, the manner of a man who knows what he wants and cannot be stopped. RAY Wow!... Y'know man those are hot lyrics -- really hot! JIM (pleased) ...could you write the music for that down, if we went over to your place, could you write that on your organ? RAY Are you kidding! I could fly. You wrote that? You got others? JIM A bunch. It's like I'm taking notes at a rock concert going on inside my head. I actually hear the music -- the spirit of the wine y'know, intoxication. RAY (slaps him on the knee) Man. You got a voice like Chet Baker -- haunted! What the hell happened to you in the desert? Let's get a rock and roll band together man and make a million bucks. JIM ...be great wouldn't it? RAY (walking JIM) It's the perfect time man! Two of the guys outta my band are really into this. I meditate with them. You know them... Robbie and John. We could have it in the can in three weeks. JIM Hey why not, I could write the songs with you guys. RAY The Stones did it outta the London School of Economics for Chrissake. Things are about to explode man. You can feel it in the air. (points out over the ocean) Vietnam's right out there. Sides are being chosen. People wanna fight or fuck, love or kill, everything's gonna flame. The planet's screaming for change, Morrison. Make the myths man!! Jim laughs, loves Ray's ardor as they move along the ocean side. JIM There oughta be great orgies man. Like when Dionysus arrived in Greece, he made all the women mad, leaving their homes and dancing off in the mountains. Great golden copulations in the streets of LA. (looks at a passing girl) Hey, do you know her? RAY What do we call ourselves. "Dionysus"? JIM I got a name. RAY What? JIM The Doors. RAY The Doors? (facial distaste) That's the most ridiculous... (then) ...you mean the doors in your mind? Like the Huxley book. JIM "The Doors of Perception"? Acid... RAY Yeah sure mescaline experiments -- reducing the sugar flow to the brain. Great book. JIM It's from William Blake actually, the line -- "when the doors of perception are cleansed -- things will appear as they truly are..." RAY (finishes) -- infinite". It's great, Jim. JIM So where do we start? How do we start? Where are the girls? RAY Rehearsing. You're moving off the rooftop and in with me and Dorothy. As they walk off, the two of them along the edge of the Pacific. A dog jumping for a frisbee. The music of MOONLIGHT DRIVE now riffs over the real song now. DOORS SONG Let's swim to the moon Let's climb thru the tide Penetrate the evening That the city sleeps to hide... DISSOLVING TO: INT. RAY'S HOUSE - VENICE BEACH - DAY The first heavy strains of BREAK ON THROUGH driving over the DISSOLVE. It sounds bad technically, but it's hot. Random raw screams and shouting. PAM is crosslegged on the floor, clapping to the music, number one fan. JIM & DOORS (live) The day destroys the night Night divides the day Tried to run Tried to hide Break on thru to the other side JIM straining to make it work, jumping around violent, still not in control. Yet searching. JOHN cutting out. JOHN That's really square. Let's hip it up. Jump on your cues. RAY Tighten it up. Stay with the beat Jim. You're dragging. JIM Let's try it again, come on. I'm just getting into it. PAM (on floor) I think it's hot!! ROBBIE (strumming) I still think the lyrics are weird man. JOHN (frustrated) I still think it sounds like the bottom of a fishbowl man. JIM (to Robbie, aggravated) Then you write one man! We need more songs anyway. We all gotta go back and write. They're drained, tired, in a large rehersal/living room 30 feet high, fronted by large glass windows looking out at the beach at Marina. The room is filled with golden, gorgeous setting sunlight. PAMELA goes to the kitchen with DOROTHY, Ray's Japanese fiancee. ROBBIE I been working on something goes like this... A minor. (chords his guitar) "You know that it would be untrue You know that I would be a liar If I was to say to you Girl, we couldn't get much higher" F sharp... chorus "Come on baby, light my fire Try to set the night on fire..." Robbie's voice is tinny but something immediate's in the air, all the radar out. RAY Okay man there's some good changes in there. JIM Got any more lyrics? ROBBIE (gives Jim a page of lyrics) Some. I call it "Light My Fire". I figger if I'm gonna compete with your stuff it's gotta be about earth, fire or snakes. JIM Don't underestimate Death. JOHN Yeah but it sounds like the Byrds man, we're not folk rock man. How 'bout trying it with a Latin beat. ROBBIE I thought we could do the usual verse chorus verse chorus and JOHN We don't need a bridge. ROBBIE Yeah, we could maybe improvise a couple piano and guitar solos over it (kicks in second verse) "The time to hesitate is through" (doesn't have the second line) Du du duh dud dada . . . JIM (spontaneous) "No time to wallow in the mire Try now we can only lose And our love become a funeral pyre Come on baby light my fire" John drumming it, different, more Latin. JIM Pretty good! Pretty neat!! RAY (to John) Nice groove, John. Chaka chaka chaka, then bula burump bula (to Robbie) ...you're right, it could take a coupla long solos, that's wild man, like Butterfield did on "East-West" -- really hip. ROBBIE Y'ever heard Coltrane's "Favorite Things"? JOHN (hitting the drums) Yeah -- maybe stretch it out and put it in 4/4 on bass, 3/4 on guitar and snare. RAY (clicking, excited) Why not! A minor to B minor. Jazz! That then is jazz! But it needs a hook. Something. Give me some space. I need some space. Leave the room guys. Come on! Go! The three excluded Doors head out to the beach like obedient schoolboys while Ray fools with his organ. EXT. VENICE BEACH - DAY As they go out, JIM hugging ROBBIE's head to his shoulder as they feel the excitement of a new song. JOHN (irritated at Ray) Guy's obnoxious, man always bossin' people around! I thought we were equals! JIM Aren't we? (to Robbie) That was great Robbie. Whaddaya thinking about when you play? ROBBIE Don't know. Mostly the fish in my fish tank. JIM (laughs) Hey whadya say we take some of that Tijuana acid and see what kinda trouble we can get into tonight? ROBBIE The chicks always go for you man. I get the dogs. JIM Then we'll start a religion or plan a murder or go to Tijuana. JOHN Whatsamatter with you man, what about Pam, you got the morals of a coyote. JIM Why you wanna sleep with her John, just to bug me? JOHN Hell NO! JIM ...means "hell yes". She likes you man, she really does and y'all should. What's a rock and roll band for man, if you can't party all night and do bad things? RAY (yelling from the house) I GOT IT I GOT IT... GET IN HERE. HURRY. JOHN Sieg Heil! As they head back. INT. RAY'S HOUSE - DAY TIGHT on RAY like a schoolmaster cueing them. RAY Okay here it is. Bach and Rock. Count it off John JOHN (clicking) 1... 2... 1 - 2 - 3 (crack) It goes. The famous organ intro to LIGHT MY FIRE blends over the room like magic, carrying JIM, ROBBIE, JOHN, DOROTHY, PAMELA along over: EXT. SUNSET STRIP (TRAVELLING) - NIGHT (1966) A row of NIGHTCLUBS glisten off the hoods of passing traffic. Marquees announce: THE BYRDS, RED ROOSTER, LOVE, THE HERD, TURTLES, CAPTAIN BEEFHEART. The CLUBS are PANDORA'S BOX, THE TRIP, CIRO'S, BIDO LITO'S, GAZZARRI'S, THE EXPERIENCE... . Headlights and neon intercut with: DOCUMENTARY TYPE SHOTS of TEENAGERS, HIPPIES, LONGHAIRS, running summer rampant, banging tambourines. COPS busting kids against cars on the street as PARENTS go by rolling up their windows. The action was on the street. LIGHT MY FIRE carries over the montage. DOORS SONG You know that it would be untrue etc. JIM VOICE (last session) The music was new black polished chrome and came over the summer like liquid night. EXT. LONDON FOG - NIGHT "THE DOORS -- BAND FROM VENICE" on the marquee... moving down to a motley crew of TEENAGE GIRLS, underage, trying to get past the BOUNCER. The sounds of BREAK ON THROUGH carry past when the doors open and close admitting a SAILOR. GIRL GROUPIE (approaching, to 2nd girl) Is that horny motherfucker in the black pants here tonight? BOUNCER IDs! IDs! Can't get in without an I.D.. GIRL 2 Oh please. I forgot my I.D.. I'm on the list. BOUNCER I forgot my list. INT. LONDON FOG - NIGHT BREAK ON THROUGH blasting out at us from a sleazehole -- half full -- BIKERS, SAILORS, HOOKERS, a baseball game on the TV. A dance floor the size of a bed, the DOORS on a tiny platform above the bar, London newspapers on the wall. JIM & DOORS (live) We chased our pleasures here Dug our treasures there Can you still recall the time we cried BREAK on through to the other side (3) Some groupies have formed a small fan club at the base of the stage, muscling past PAM, but most people ignore them, drinking, arguing, dancing to their own fuckbeats. Possibly this has something to do with the fact that JIM sings with his back to all of them. JOHN looking over furious at RAY who mutters under the music. RAY Turn around Jim! Come on let 'em in. JIM I found an island in your arms A country in your eyes Arms that chained us, eyes that lied (CHORUS) Jim jumps around violently to the front, getting the attention of all. Rubbing his leather pants against the mike stand, leaning against it, not yet comfortable with the extrovert side of himself, eyes closed, but starting to enjoy it. He sings to Pam. INT. BACKSTAGE - THE FOG - THAT NIGHT JERRY, the ex-vice cop manager who runs the joint, can't understand the appeal, talking to JIM and ROBBIE who are packing and hauling their equipment out. DOROTHY is there. PAM (innocently) So Jerry... do we get paid for this? JERRY (ignoring her) What shit, "day destroys the night", "crawl back in your brain", "go insane". What do people wanna pay money to hear that shit. JIM (explains it, gentle) The greater the suffering, the more terrible the events, the greater the pleasure Jerry. They want it, it's catharsis. Like the ancient Greeks. JERRY (amused) We're in Los Angeles punk, how would you know, they like your pants, they're not listenin' to you, what the hell they see in you I... JIM (laughs) But they understand Jerry. All our real desires are unconscious and unseen. . . JERRY (scratching his head) ...you're the weirdest fuckin' guy I ever... JIM You love us? JERRY I love ya. You got two more shows to do. Camera gliding across the small crowded smokey room to RAY and JOHN in conversation with a slick Beverly Hills MANAGER type. MANAGER ...I got some real tight record company connections, just leave it to me man, I'll take you guys all the fuckin' way, you blew my mind out there. RAY Yeah right, but what about the music? MANAGER Hey the music? I love it man, that's why we're talking right? Some of it's a little on the dark side though. Ya know ya oughta get some tunes like Herman's Hermits stuff -- "Mrs. Brown you got a lovely daughter". That shit goes right to the radio man. RAY Uh huh. Well, how 'bout gettin' us some real equipment? MANAGER Listen, I sign you guys to a five year management contract and you got it all. Equipment. Demo. A truck WITH roadies. Three, maybe four percent record deal. Wherever ya want to go babe, trust me, I'll get you there. Whatd'ya say? RAY (exchanging looks with John) We'll have a band meeting. The four of us do everything unanimously or we don't do it. MANAGER The musketeers. I'm touched. But lemme tell you something -- loyalty don't pay the bills. Think about it. Call me tomorrow. He gives Ray a card, leaving, crossing to Jim and PAM talking. JOHN (to Ray) What a sleaze! Man, Jim's gotta start facing the crowd if he's gonna be the front man. RAY He's just getting his confidence. JOHN He never does what we rehearsed. What's the point of... RAY How does it feel? JOHN Great, but... Pam on payphone calling her friends to come. PAM ...make sure you get Barb and Sue Anne to come. And tell them to ask for Jim! The MANAGER on his way out leaning into Jim's face, slyly. MANAGER Jim, how old are you? JIM Ah, twenty one... MANAGER Jesus, you're a gold mine, I'll make it quick and to the point and if you repeat it I'll deny it -- drop these guys, I'll put you with some real musicians, your voice, your looks, that's what'll sell records, we'll make a million bucks. A year. Goodbye. Call me. I'm right. He gives Jim a card and goes. Pam disgusted with the type, Jim laughs, likes the guy. JIM I like a man wears his soul on his face. RAY (coming over) "Whiskey's" next, I can feel it in my bones. ROBBIE I still think the lyrics are weird. INT. LONDON FOG - NIGHT MONTAGE EFFECT -- Jim sings "A Little Game" on the Fog stage. Super over WHISKEY sign. EXT. SUNSET STRIP -- THAT NIGHT CU moving down -- the "LOVE" is on the marquee at the famous WHISKY A GO GO as we move down to see JIM, PAM, and the DOORS. Jim jumps through the TEEMING TRAFFIC (horns, anger) right in front of a COP CAR, crossing to a long line of teenage FANS dying to get into the club. JIM (to Ray, innocently) Jesus Ray, every girl out there wanted to fuck me, I could feel it for the first time! RAY Right on stud. But you better watch out for the guys. JIM (to the band) Guys, I'm serious about the desert, we still gotta deepen man, we gotta take some peyote -- all of us together, we got one more stage to go... ROBBIE I don't know man, fucks up my playing. I been playing music for 10 years man and this is the first time in my whole damned life I ever played it. JIM Are you satisfied? JOHN Will you get off my case! I'm never doing acid again. Too many bad trips man. JIM It's not acid John, it's peyote. It's a bonding ceremony. It's got to be more... more... more... JOHN I'm into TM man. I promised my guru... PAM I want to! I want to! I'm ready. Let's go to the desert... do the peyote, the good peyote. JIM (to girl in line) Who's on now? GIRL 1 (withering look, very hip) "Love". JIM Yeah, Arthur Lee's cool. GIRL 1 They're the best... better'n the Beatles. JIM You mean the Marx Brothers of music, we could blow 'em away. The GIRLS looking at each other like who is this jerk. GIRL 2 And who are you? JIM The Doors... We're up the street at the Fog. Laughter from the GIRLS. GIRL 1 (contempt) The Doors. I heard of you. That's the dumbest name. I wouldn't go to the Fog if you paid me. JIM Oh yeah what would you do for money? PAM Let's go Jim, come on. Meanwhile DENSMORE is hitting up on GIRL 2. JOHN So you don't have a phone number? What do you mean you don't have a phone number? GIRL 2 I don't have a phone number. So give me your number then. JOHN I don't have a phone. Robbie is doing his imitation of a shrimp for ANOTHER GIRL who's laughing. GIRL 1 (intrigued, to Jim) Well, would you leave my name at the door? JIM Well I don't know. What's your name? GIRL 1 Caprice. JIM Caprice? That's the dumbest name I ever heard. A look between Jim and Caprice. Pamela pulling Jim away, gives the girl a look. JIM Hey! I am the Lizard king. I can do Anything! Raise your hands if you understand! Alive, any of you alive -- let's take a poll -- how many of you know you're really alive!! The crowd giggles. Jim climbs a pole, yells. JIM No one? Raise your hands c'mon man... let's go. On the crowd. A few raise their hands, smile. We IRIS in on the Doors suddenly -- a strange sound -- REVERSE IRIS on Jim -- feeling it now. The peyote. JIM's POV -- Pam irising out. This strange sound in his ears -- a rattle of an Indian gourd, similar to what we heard in the car in Arizona when Jim was a boy. Now a distant Indian drum beating. The beginning strains of THE END dribble in. EXT. DESERT - DAY A dented RED CHEVROLET fishtails on a dry mudflat, whipping up dustdevils. They're all LAUGHING (strange noise) -- in a circle somewhere on the edge of a precipice in deep arroyos and magnificent rocks and cacti... A football huddle of faces - RAY, JOHN, ROBBIE, JIM -- the four DOORS... laughing with the first mad impulse of the peyote. PAM is vomiting her brains out as DOROTHY tries to comfort her on the edge of a cliff... Jim panthers up the dune. JIM Everybody having a good time? They hug. She throws up again. JIM ...awright, pretty good, it gets better. Jim holds his head. Feels the ride. JIM WOA!! It's fast. JUMP CUTS: Jim and Pam are touching each other. Face. Shadows. Sand falls from Pam's hand. Jim turns to hawk at a bird. "Hawk! Hawk!" Then Pam is dancing alone on the dune. Abruptly Jim is back in the circle with the Doors in a sense torn between them and Pam. EXTREME CLOSEUPS of their faces, their eyes, the tensions of the trip tearing apart their teeth as they go from the laughing to the dangerous part. JIM When the serpent appears, his head is ten feet long and five feet wide. He has one red eye and one green eye. He's deadly and he's seven miles long. As he moves -- on his scales is written all the history of the world, all people, all actions, all of us our little pictures on the scales, God it's big! -- and it's eating as it moves all the time, devouring, digesting consciousness, power, a monster of energy! John shutters -- as does Robbie and Ray. Jim seems possessed. JIM We must kiss the snake on the tongue, if it senses our fear, it will eat us instantly. But if we kiss it without fear, the snake will take us through the garden and out the gate. To our freedom -we must ride this snake. To the end of time. Pause. He has instilled a flux of fear in the group. JOHN I think I'm fucked up. I'm not thinking right. JIM You're fucked up John. Go with it, confusion is the sound of creation. JOHN You should see your eyes right now, you're death. Look at your eyes -- you're crazy man, you look crazy. You scare me. JIM No no no John John. God is crazy too. God is part insane as well as sane. Not in control all the time. Dionysus was the God of the wine. He made ecstasy but he also made madness. Madness is all right. That's what you want, isn't it, isn't it? Where's that joint? ROBBIE (crying) I get scared thinking of all the choices inside. I could go. I could stay. I can live anywhere. I could die now if I wanted. It's limitless choice... and no one cares. JIM Die Robbie. JOHN What the fuck! PAM (wandering in) I don't know what I am. I'm on the cusp of Sagittarius and Capricorn. Sagittarius is wild and Capricorn domestic and safe, so I don't know which one to be. Jim looking at her, smiles. JIM I love you. DOROTHY (into the same lens) Oh my God, the light, it's so beautiful Ray. Can you see it... it's all one... honey? Ray has his head buried in his hands. RAY I'm in pain man. I want something from the peyote. I feel the universe functioning perfectly but I'm still perfectly locked inside myself. Instead of Oneness, I feel total Isolation. Aloneness. Fear... Pain... Jim, all I feel is pain. JIM Pain makes me feel more alive Ray. Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain but they're wrong. JOHN I feel Lust. I want to fuck everything I can, and I know it will never be enough. JIM (whispers) Pam wants you. (normal) You're a good Catholic John, you want it so you can feel guilty about it... Fuck death away John. ROBBIE I feel Fear... so bad I just numb out all my feelings. I'm afraid of my father, I'm afraid of Yahweh... I wish I could play my guitar. JIM Maybe you should kill your father Robbie. He tried to kill you. Kill him! ROBBIE I'm so fucking scared. JIM But you're Alive! It's beautiful! Fear, pain, lust, we've got to know all our feelings before we can come out the other side free men. Don't feel ashamed of yourselves, don't let society destroy your reality. Our freedom's the only thing worth dying for, it's the only thing worth living for! He takes Ray and Robbie's hands, his voice calming them, reform the circle. John hesitant. Not all will enter the gates at evening. JOHN (cold sweats) I'm not gonna make it man. I'm scared Jim, I'm still scared. Blindness is coming on. JIM Then use us John, use our strength, it's us four now, a tribe of warriors, everything we have comes from the same source, the great Creator of Being. Trust him, trust us. Ride the snake. . . I promise you I will be with you till the end of time. Pulling John into the circle, bonding, their four heads sunk to the desert floor, Jim making wild Indian sounds, deep- throated "shoooh... shoooh"... now humming a song from the desert. JIM My wild love went riding... mmmmmm. She rode all the day. She ride to the devil. And ask for him to pay... shooo shoooo The OTHERS join in his chant, the four rising and falling like a collective breath. JIM (ad lib) ...she went to the desert she went to the sea Joseph we did see... Suddenly Jim breaks and rises out of the circle. Ray, Robbie, John, all looking at him. The same need. Pamela, the desperation of her eyes. JIM (to himself) ...I'm lying to you. I am scared. He goes, his boots in the sand. JOHN Jim, where are you going. JIM (looking back) I'll be back. I gotta go alone. Pamela calling from another dune, far away. PAM Jim! Jim... come here, dance... don't go away. His POV -- of her, receding. She screams for him. He's in pain. Cannot help her. A BIRD of prey in the sky. Jim moving across a lunar landscape. SPECIAL EFFECT: The sun is black like night or else white in a black sky. Voices in the distance. "Jim, where are you going?" A mother's voice, a father's voice. DOORS SONG Can you picture what will be So limitless and free Desperately in need of some stranger's hand in a desperate land Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain and all the children are insane: waiting for the summer rain FLASHBACKS INT. CAR - MOVING - DESERT JIM, 4, in the back of a car in the desert -- looking back... At the overturned truck, the bodies in the road... at the older Indian looking at him... finally at the dying Indian... his eyes. INT. MORRISON HOME - DAY Somewhere. The child alone. On the living room floor. Drawing his sketches in a book. MOM's feet moving past -- then DAD'S feet. We may sense a subtle shift in mood when the parents come in -- from the boy's eyes which never leave the sketch he is drawing. EXT. DESERT - DAY An OLD WOMAN is beckoning to him from an opening in the face of the mountain... then she's gone. JIM bounds towards the crevice. INT. ROCK PALACE - DAY He is in an isolated cathedral of rocks. The CRONE, muttering, leaving through another crevice. Suddenly a MOUNTAIN LION is visible, stretched hugely across a rock. It growls ferociously, upset, and suddenly shoots out the back of the cave. Silence. Jim, thunderstruck, gaping. A gallery of ancient INDIAN PETROGLYPHS surround him on all sides. Curious, oblong figures, buffalo, sacred deer and bear, creatures of the hunt; hunters and their weapons, rain clouds, masked deities proclaiming the answers to the Mysteries, the story of Creation. Camera weaving up to see one of the faces of the deities -- staring at him from the wall -- an eagle's face... DOORS SONG There's danger on the edge of town Ride the King's highway Weird scenes inside the gold mine Ride the King's highway west, baby The sound of a rattle -- "shichishichi" -- he realizes he's being watched. By what? He whips his eyes everywhere. A large LIZARD perches on a boulder assesses him calmly, tatters of a former skin clinging to its throat, spits a forked tongue and drills its black pearly eyes into his skull... Now the sound of the Bull-Roarer, whipping the air, announcing the appearance of the shaman. Jim's struck with an overwhelming sense of... awe... ancient mysteries. He turns. The lizard is looking at him. The GHOST of the DEAD INDIAN is also looking at him. We are looking at JIM from its point of view -- a blur of light, some headdress, a sense of skins... music drops back, no lyrics... the voice is old, familiar, possible Spanish descent dialect or huararchi. INDIAN GHOST VOICE ...you are a prince among white men, yet you are a warrior among us. You are ready now. Go out "walk with the pain of the world, travel to the end of the wind" -- and change it for all men as you were born to do. The voice, the pretense, -- the glow too quickly fades -- leaving Jim so alone, not sure what he has heard, yet he knows he has heard, and he knows he has seen -- and once you have seen, it will never be the same again. His eyes. EXT. CAVE - DAY JIM exits the cave. MATCH CUT TO: INT. WHISKY A GO GO - NIGHT EXTREME CLOSE on JIM'S EYES as he continues with THE END. DOORS SONG Ride the snake Ride the snake, to the lake The ancient lake The snake is long, seven miles Ride the snake He's old, and his skin is cold Camera pulling out from his eyes. There's something different tonight. Something in the air. His eyes are open, he's facing outward, gripping the mike for his life, hair falling in his face, dripping sweat, we sense all his soul concentrated in what he has to say. Cliques of GROUPIES have staked claims at the foot of the stage, eyes fucking him as he writhes, spreading his legs. Every twitch, every moment he sucks out the tension on the musical interludes generates a whip of a reaction in his audience. Nobody is moving in the club. The DANCERS are still, the GO GO GIRLS in their white plastic boots and dresses hang motionless in their gilded cages. Even the WAITRESSES have stopped, frozen with their trays, denying something is going to happen. PAMELA, DOROTHY... JERRY from the Fog, also the manager of this place, watches from the balcony, shaking his head, doesn't understand. Panning to two RECORD TYPES with him -- JAC HOLZMAN, distinguished six footer, suit, and PAUL ROTHCHILD, funky, pigtailed, ex-con, early 30s. JIM & DOORS The west is best (2) Get here and we'll do the rest The blue bus is calling us (2) Driver where you taking us? The band has come together fully now. ROBBIE'S fingers sliding across the trembling strings, staring at the ceiling, wandering around the darkened portions of stage left, he feels Jim -- echoes him back with his flamenco-blues guitar. JOHN on drums, reading Jim's moods, throws in the spontaneous and violent riffs that keep it savage. He literally tortures Jim's ears with his drums. And RAY, concentrated with his nodding head like a big flamingo over his keyboard, mixing it up, throwing curves, yet also -- and more delicately -- torturing Jim with the messianic organ sounds that shriek in his ears. There is something of Merlin in Ray -- the alchemist knowing how to play Jim. And JIM -- "that sneaky silent lithe flowing flexing animal" -- ready at last to share both his body and his soul with the world, to live out the words of the Indian prophet... to lead. JIM The killer awoke before dawn He put his boots on He took a face from the ancient gallery And he walked on down the hall Ray looks over up from his board, catches Robby with a 'what's this?' look... They go with it, improvising... Jim clutching the mike tighter, seeking solace in its arms; it all hangs in the air as if he doesn't have any idea what he's going to say next. JIM He went to the room where his sister lived And he paid a visit to his brother And then he went on down the hall... Pamela sensing something is coming... the AUDIENCE... Jerry... the go-go dancers... JIM And he came to a door, And he looked inside "Father?" "Yes, son?" "I want to kill you". FLASH -- A FATHER'S FACE, any face, older, any man... JIM Mother... I want to... FLASH -- A MOTHER'S FACE, any face, older, a woman JIM AAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHH YOOOOOUUUUUUUUUU!!!!! FUCK YOU ALL NIGHT! The SCREAMS primal, pure Jim -- Indian savagery ripped from the depths of his soul, of his pain -- bouncing off the walls... As the AUDIENCE gasps, shocked, stunned... As the guitar hits a high, horrid reverb, JIM in slightly SLOW MOTION suddenly tightens his backbone as if electrocuted and shoots violently backwards, hitting the floor like a puppet cut from his string -- we sense Jim himself has crossed a barrier now, gone into yet another stage of his performance, a stage from which he can never return. Like the gunfighter who has killed his first man. RAY sees it instantly where it's going, hits the organ! Robbie and John follow. the instruments EXPLODE all at once trying to bury Jim in his primal unmistakeable scream. The CLUB in shock. Tribal taboo broken in one instant. Jerry exploding off the balcony toward the stage... Pamela, extremely moved and impressed, and Dorothy... the go- go girls, as jaded as they come, are stunned tension... the groupies love it. Jim has jumped up now, dancing an Indian war dance around the mike. JIM Come on baby take a chance with us (X3) And meet me in the back of the blue bus Doona blue rog onna blue bus Doona blue yeah! Come on yeah! INT. BACKSTAGE WHISKY HALLWAY - THAT NIGHT JIM is being muscled out the door by JERRY, livid. JERRY NOBODY'S GONNA FUCK THEIR MOTHER ON MY STAGE! YOU'RE OUTTA HERE. You don't ever come back to play, you don't ever come back to drink -- You're DEAD ON THE STRIP! JIM (ranting back at him) Kill the father, fuck the mother, kill the father, fuck the mother -- that's what I'm into! That's what I'm into! Jerry pinning Jim to the wall, JERRY You -- MORRISON! You're fucking filthy twisted perverse punk, get back to your fucking sewer!! JIM (calmly smiling) You have the face of a pig man. Lost in the melee, RAY and JOHN springing Jim back from likely death RAY JERRY JERRY... He was talking about Oedipus! GREEK TRAGEDY!! It's ART!! JERRY FUCK ART!! GET THE FUCK ART OUT!!! Pushing, shoving, scrambling. Past a long-haired JOURNALIST yelling into a payphone. JOURNALIST NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THE DOORS -- NEVER!! GET A PHOTOGRAPHER DOWN HERE. "ROLLING STONE'S GOTTA SEE THIS!! As they rumble by him, all yelling at once. Into the street. EXT. ALLEY & STAIRCASE OUTSIDE WHISKY - THAT NIGHT The DOORS go sailing out, followed by one of their drums, JOHN and ROBBIE restraining Jim from going back in. JIM TAKE A LONG LOOK OLD MAN. WE ARE THE FUTURE. WE ARE THINGS TO COME. JERRY FUCK YOU... YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD! Wanting to come after Jim but restrained now by the RECORD MOGULS, HOLZMAN and ROTHCHILD. PAUL Come on Jerry, cool it, cool it... he's a kid, it's a song about dying, changing... JAC HOLZMAN pushing past to Ray. Pamela separating Jim visually from Jerry. JOHN (to RAY and ROBBIE) We'll never work again man. The Mafia controls all these clubs. HOLZMAN (to Ray and Robbie) Quite a night! Hi, I'm Jac Holzman. I own Elektra Records. RAY (knows the name) Oh sure, hi. Holzman pauses, a dramatic presence, six foot two, impeccably dressed, he knows the weight of his words. HOLZMAN Listen... I think if you could just put what you did in there on record, we could really have something... and we could make a lot of money... It hangs there. Impossible words. RAY Yeah? John and Robbie sharing looks. HOLZMAN (pointing to ROTHCHILD coming up) Yeah... and Rothchild here was born to be your producer. ROBBIE (recognizing Paul) Hey, the guy that did Butterfield! PAUL Bertold Brecht, cabaret and rock. Give me a fucking break. You guys are amazing! Let's go make a record. JIM (to Ray, pointing back at Jerry) Hey, is that asshole gonna pay us? HOLZMAN (amused) Why don't you go inside and ask him Jim? Strains of LIGHT MY FIRE cross the cut. INT. SUNSET SOUND RECORDING STUDIO - DAY (1966) Four-track TAPE SYSTEM is rolling. DOORS SONG You know that it would be untrue You know that I would be a liar If I was to say to you Girl, we couldn't get much higher Camera moving fast thru the control room, past the ENGINEER (BRUCE BOTNICK), taciturn, 20's, the PRODUCER (PAUL ROTHCHILD) in pig heaven, and the owner JAC HOLZMAN in his blue suit watching. PAUL Hey Bruce, you feel it? BRUCE I'm having big fun. PAUL (to Jac) I got goosebumps Jac. This is history going down here. An album of killer music in six days... six days... unreal! Camera moving fast past a smiling PAM watching, out to the DOORS on the floor, jamming... on to JIM in the vocal booth, headphone to his ears. JIM Come on baby, LIGHT MY FIIIRRRREEEE!!! The song, now fully -- orchestrated, rolling on over the following MONTAGE: JIM (after song) Pretty good! Pretty neat! EXT. GOLDEN GATE PARK - SAN FRANCISCO (DOCUMENTARY FOOTAGE) - DAY (1967) LIGHT MY FIRE continues. DOCUMENTARY FOOTAGE of the "Human Be-In", the "Summer of Love" -- swarming FLOWER CHILDREN, WAR PROTESTORS. A staged 16mm. grainy shot of JIM and PAMELA, RAY and DOROTHY, JOHN, ROBBIE and their TWO NEW GIRLFRIENDS wandering thru the CROWD sharing the spirit. Pam and Jim fool around -- laughing -- tickling each other for the home movie camera shot by Ray... Pam is goofy, makes funny faces, teases him running a flower under his nose, thru his hair, then trips him. He chases her across the lawn. INT. FILLMORE WEST STAGE - SAN FRANCISCO - NIGHT (1967) The CROWD is "beautiful" -- candles, incense sticks, flowers, vibes of peace and love. The instrumental of "Light My Fire" is playing, but only three DOORS are on stage till Jim comes swinging across on a rope like tarzan all the way across the stage -- then drops down, rebounds lithely and hits the mike. JIM (singing) The time to hesitate is through No time to wallow in the mire. JIM swandives into the stoned crowd with the mike at the instrumental section, a colored spotlight flecking him, GIRLS kiss him. The guys want to be him, the girls want him -- and he knows it, teasing and tantalizing them... JIM Try now we can only lose And our love become a funeral pyre Come on baby, light my fire Try to set the night on FIIIIIIIIIRE!!!!! BODYGUARDS running in to pull him out as he's tossed, like a limp god, over the heads of the crowd, rolling like a buoy on a rocking sea, from hand to hand, Dionysus, devoured limb from limb by the "little girls". PAMELA watching from the side curtain. ALABAMA SONG (WHISKY BAR) now kicks in with its comic, Brechtian strain as we: OMIT Sequence omitted from original script. EXT. AIRPORT TARMAC - DAY Screaming FANS chase the DOORS to a commercial airplane, scribbling autographs. One of the GIRLS smacking JIM on the lips as he laughs, her cameras clicking. PAMELA shooting a home movie of it, pushed aside by the crowd, rescued by ROBBIE and the new young manager, BILL SIDDONS... DOORS SONG Oh show me the way to the next whisky bar Oh don't ask why Oh don't ask why EXT. NEW YORK CITY SKYLINE (SEEN FROM PLANE) - DAY The City as seen by: INT. AIRPLANE - DAY JIM'S face pressed to the window, PAMELA next to him hugging each other. JIM (real close, hugging her) I don't mind dying in a plane crash, a smile on my face. PAMELA (cutting his food) As compared to what? JIM I just don't want to go out slow -- brain tumor, botulism. I want to feel what it's like, cause death is only going to happen to you once. PAMELA I don't want to die ever, what a weird thing to say. DOORS SONG For if we don't find the next whisky bar I tell you we must die I tell you I tell you I tell you we must die EXT. CBS - NEW YORK - NIGHT (SUMMER, 1967) A LIMOUSINE pulling up in front of the Ed Sullivan Marquee. The sidewalk is mobbed with FANS, mostly YOUNG GIRLS. DOORS SONG Oh moon of Alabama We now must say goodbye We've lost our good ol mama We must have whiskey oh you know why INT. LIMO - NIGHT JIM looking out at the MOB with the other DOORS and PAMELA. The look on his face is ironic. His POV -- the YOUNG GIRLS' FACES, arms grasping at the windows like tentacles of a poisonous hydra, their faces deformed by SILENT SCREAMS (we hear faint strangled shrieks below the song)... POLICE and SECURITY pressing them back, linking arms to clear a path for the Doors. DOORS SONG Show me the way to the next little girl Oh don't ask why Oh don't ask why The GIRLS crying hysterically as Jim lazily, leopardly, moves across the CROWD, almost like Oswald waiting for the Ruby bullet but with that sweet, pleasant smile on his face, dark glasses concealing... GIRLS (faint) Oh Jimmmmm, pleeeaaase look, I looove youuuuu, Jimmmmmm, pleeeeeaase, Jimmmmm, here, sign miiiine... take a picture Jim?... Jim, Jim, oh please look at me Jim!! Their voices distorting. A GIRLCHILD squeezing thru the cordon with the fatal bullet. In slightly SLOW MOTION, Jim seeing her come... as she glues herself hip to hip, lip to lip with Jim, her hands clawing at his leather pants. It takes TWO COPS to peel her off. Pamela furious. Jim is gracious with everyone, signs patiently, talks, kisses, shakes hands with the boys, lets them touch his hair, his body, poses for a picture, seems to like it. DOORS SONG For if we don't find the next little girl I tell you we must die I tell you I tell you I tell you we must die INT. CBS BACKSTAGE - THAT EVENING The nervous PRODUCER, HERB, leading "MR. SULLIVAN" thru the corridor to the Doors' DRESSING ROOM past several "ACTS" getting ready to go on... animals, tumblers, a soprano wailing... PRODUCER Right this way Mr. Sullivan. They're called "the Doors". They got the number one single in the country -- "Light Your Fire". SULLIVAN "Light Your Fire"? Is that sooo? PRODUCER They look pretty grungy but we're... INT. DOORS DRESSING ROOM - EVENING Bedlam. MAKE-UP ARTISTS pancaking the faces of the DOORS -- the nightmare coming true. RAY in a white suit with too many pinstripes. ROBBIE a spearmint turtleneck, beads, long sideburns, JOHN in red velveteen head to foot with a tie-dye splotch on the front of it. Their hair's being violated enough by a nervous gay black HAIR DESIGNER to make them totally self-conscious and nervous about their first live TV appearance -- all except JIM who remains in his signature black leather with the silver navajo belt and shiny spangles -- watching a portable TV... A GIRL leaving his side, crossing Pamela. Eye contact between them speaks of Pamela's jealousy. JOHN (indignant) You're gonna cut it! HAIRDRESSER (doing John) No, I'm going to worship it. What kind of shampoo are you using? JOHN The kind you get in hotels. HAIRDRESSER Pamper yourself sweetheart, you don't want split ends, you're a celebrity now. (moving to Ray) You have very serious-serious hair, it needs to rebel. I'll give it a tinge of something freaky. RAY I'd rather stay the same color. HAIRDRESSER Scaredy cat. ROBBIE What about me? HAIRDRESSER (a look) Honey, we don't have enough time. TELEVISION INSERT -- images of DETROIT burning, summer of 67. TV NEWSMAN ...here in Detroit, 42 people dead, more than 2000 injured... 1400 buildings burned, 5000 people have just lost their homes as Detroit joins more than 100 cities torn by riots this hot summer! On JIM, as they pancake him, reflective. JIM No wonder "Light My Fire's" number one. HAIRDRESSER (to JIM) What about you handsome? JIM (friendly) The biggest mistakes in my life have been haircuts. PAM Don't wash it. Don't set it. He likes it the way it is... HAIRDRESSER (backing off) All right, be mean... Commotion from the doorway as the PRODUCER leads the lock- jawed MR. SULLIVAN in with everyone bowing and scraping to the Pope. PRODUCER Boys -- meet Mr. Sullivan Mr. Sullivan waves from the doorway. SULLIVAN Hi boys, heard your song "Light That Fire" (Herb corrects) ...think you're great... good luck out there. DOORS (ad lib) Oh thanks Mr. Sullivan. PRODUCER (moving alongside Ray) Well the guys at Network have told us they have a small problem with the lyrics "girl we couldn't get much higher". You can't say "higher" on network so they asked if... you could say, "girl we can't get much better"... can you dig that? A look from the guys. Jim sullen. Tension in the air. Mr. Sullivan waiting. JIM How 'bout, "girl you couldn't bite my wire". Pause. The producer puzzled a beat. It doesn't go down. PRODUCER I don't think Standards and Practices would... Sullivan exiting, waving at no one in particular like Nixon would. SULLIVAN Look, you boys don't forget to smile now. Don't be so sullen out there... JIM Uh well, we're kind of a sullen group, Ed. SIDDONS reassuring the Producer. SIDDONS We'll work it out Herb, promise. Give me five. PRODUCER (not totally convinced, exiting) Groovy! Uh you boys should know Mr. Sullivan is considering you boys for four more shows. You dig? Pause. JOHN Well? JIM What -- are we the Beatles now John? RAY (laughs) It's only a word man. The Stones changed... JIM Hey Ray, why don't you change your name to Sid or Irving Manzarek or something... it's only a word y'know. ROBBIE It's my words. I don't care, let's just jam. Ray's seething tension. Younger brother starting to get out of hand. INT. STUDIO STAGE - THAT NIGHT SULLIVAN stiffly introducing them. SULLIVAN Now here on our stage direct from Los Angeles, California, ladies and gentlemen, The Doors! The lights come up on the DOORS in their ultimate nightmare -- each Door appearing consecutively in a lightspot as Jim sings the ubiquitous "Light My Fire", trapped in this Elvis Presley -- Vegas act, he looks like he couldn't care less. DOORS hang suspended everywhere on the set -- their name spelled out in big block standup letters. Jim has a hard-on in his pants, barely concealed by his tight leathers. PRODUCER (in control booth) What's that?... oh Jesus!... get off it!! Where's he going? Jim misses his marks deliberately, the camera having a hard time following him. JIM & DOORS You know that it would be untrue You know that I would be a liar If I was to say to you Girl, we couldn't get much higher Come on baby light my fire INT. CONTROL BOOTH (SIMULTANEOUS) - THAT NIGHT The PRODUCERS freaking out. PRODUCER (hyperventilating) He said it! He said it! On National TV You can't do that! You can't do that!!! You blew it you little shit! You'll never play Ed Sullivan again. Jim on the monitors, singing through to his freedom, falls on the floor flat, the camera missing him completely. JIM Come on baby, light my fire Try to set the night on FIIIIRRRRRE! INT. HOTEL BEDROOM -- NEW YORK - NIGHT OVERHEAD ANGLE -- JIM lies there in a sweat. PAMELA pulls off him, naked, frustrated, trying to rouse him. PAM (tender) What can I do, what do you want me to do?... Jim? JIM I don't know... I guess I should see a doctor or something... maybe I should go to someone of the straight Jungian philosophy. PAM It happens to other guys too... Jim, quietly pissed, reaches for the whiskey bottle at the side of the bed. JIM It's so scary up there. To be adored. Isn't that irony? Teenage death girls want my dick -- a mere clown -- not my words. I'll never wake up in a good mood again... Lament for my cock, a tongue of knowledge deep in the feathered night, gives life, soar and crucify, I seek to know you... PAM It's not so complicated Jim, it's just sex, y'know. JIM You should marry an insurance salesman. PAM It's the hours man, the pressure, everything's like your last performance, you're setting yourself up. JIM We weren't built to last. PAM Aren't you doing this for you, because you're a poet, not a rock star. Ed Sullivan's not a place for you. JIM You really know what I am Pam? You know what poetry is? Where is the feast they promised us? Where is the wine -- the new wine -- dying on the vine? PAM What are you saying! JIM Y'see -- I lied to you. I really love Fame. PAM (Here we go) Why are you doing this to me? JIM (drinks) 'Cause you're in the room. She tries to take the bottle away. He resists. They struggle. It becomes a fight. PAM And this is gonna help! It's probably the cause. 'Least put some soul in your success asshole! JIM Maybe you're the cause! PAM Right. JIM I mean I don't have this problem with anybody else. PAM (getting the bottle) Give it to me!!! JIM (getting it back) No!!!!! Mommy!!! PAM (gives up, tries to exit) Fuck you man I'm outta here. He grabs her. They lurch, smashing the lamp. WILD CHILD song kicking in. JIM (excited now) Get mad! Yeahhh! Love my girl! Yeah, go fuck the other guys. How many white guys have you fucked Pam? 10, 20? Black guys what? You like Chinese dicks? Mongolian penis? 30? PAM (fighting) ...how many dogs have you fucked! You don't say No to anybody! Drugs, dogs, uglies, you'd fuck a doorknob with butter on it! JIM How could I do that PAM (shouting top of her lungs) You're the first one who couldn't make it with me anyway! You're the only limp dick in the lot!!! Camera running at them from the end of the room. JIM laughs manically as they roll off the bed into a wall. Kicking, hitting hard. DOORS SONG Wild Child full of grace Savior of the human race Your cool face Natural child, terrible child Not your mother or your father's child Your own child, screaming wild JIM HA HA HA!! WILL YOU DIE FOR ME! PAM NO! WILL YOU DIE FOR ME!! JIM I'D DIE FOR ANYBODY. PAM WHAT ABOUT ME! WHAT ABOUT ME! JIM CUNT CUNT CUNT. PAM LIAR LIAR LIAR. YOU PROMISED. YOU PROMISED. JIM I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY. A VOICE across the wall joining in, banging. VOICE SHADDUP WILLYA. I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!!!! JIM THEN MOVE TO MIAMI YOU SLAVE!!! More nagging. By this time the fight has expired of its own volition. JIM (quietly) You were saying? They giggle, start to laugh. Then they cuddle on the floor, in the corner, in this semi-lit New York hotel room. JIM (low) ...will you die for me, Pam, a clown, a despicable clown?... a mere despicable clown? PAM Yes yes yes. JIM ...I need a home. A place to hide. PAM ...with me. Yes... yes... JIM (mumbling) ...how could we make a home?... where there's sanctuary? PAM ...yes, yes, yes. He's hard now. She's guiding him inside her. JIM ...we're in Africa, we're just animals... I wanna stay inside you all night baby... let's fuck death away, now fuck death away... PAM ...yes...