老无所依No Country for Old Men Movie Script

FADE IN:

EXT. MOUNTAINS - NIGHT Snow is falling in a gusting wind. The voice of an old man:

VOICE OVER:

I was sheriff of this county when I was twenty-five. Hard to believe.

Grandfather was a lawman. Father too. Me and him was sheriff at the same time, him in Plano and me here.

I think he was pretty proud of that.

I know I was.

EXT. WEST TEXAS LANDSCAPE - DAWN/DAY We dissolve to another West Texas landscape. Sun is rising.

VOICE OVER:

Some of the old-time sheriffs never even wore a gun. A lot of folks find that hard to believe. Jim Scarborough never carried one. That's the younger Jim. Gaston Boykins wouldn't wear one. Up in Comanche County.

We dissolve through more landscapes, bringing us to full day. None of them show people or human habitation.

VOICE OVER:

I always liked to hear about the old- timers. Never missed a chance to do so. N*gger Hoskins over in Bastrop County knowed everbody's phone number off by heart. You can't help but compare yourself against the old- timers. Can't help but wonder how they would've operated these times.

There was this boy I sent to the gas chamber at Huntsville here a while back. My arrest and my testimony. He killed a fourteen-year-old girl.

Papers said it was a crime of passion but he told me there wasn't any passion to it.

EXT. WEST TEXAS ROAD - DAY The last landscape, hard sunbaked prairie, is surveyed in a long slow pan.

VOICE OVER:

Told me that he'd been planning to kill somebody for about as long as he could remember. Said that if they turned him out he'd do it again.

The pan has brought into frame the flashing light bars of a police car stopped on the shoulder. A young sheriff's deputy is opening the rear door on the far side of the car.

VOICE OVER:

Said he knew he was going to hell.

Be there in about fifteen minutes. I don't know what to make of that. I surely don't.

Close on a pair of hands manacled behind someone's back. A hand enters to take the prisoner by one arm.

VOICE OVER:

The crime you see now, it's hard to even take its measure. It's not that I'm afraid of it.

Back to the shot over the light bars:

the deputy, with a hand on top of the prisoner's head to help him clear the door frame, eases the prisoner into the backseat. All we see of the prisoner is his dark hair disappearing into the car.

VOICE OVER:

I always knew you had to be willing to die to even do this job -- not to be glorious. But I don't want to push my chips forward and go out and meet something I don't understand.

The deputy closes the back door. He opens the front passenger door and reaches down for something-apparently heavy-at his feet.

VOICE OVER:

You can say it's my job to fight it but I don't know what it is anymore.

The deputy swings the heavy object into the front passenger

seat. Matching inside the car:

it looks like an oxygen tank with a petcock at the top and tubing running off it.

VOICE OVER:

...More than that, I don't want to know. A man would have to put his soul at hazard.