THE KURGAN 2.0
- Thread starter kl241
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13 years of age is the limit sir......
BadMoon
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I need to play GOW live....I suck at Halo. 
BadMoon
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Condor something. It's my little bro's profile.
I got some kinda stomech ache...so, no GOW today.....
But I will FOR SURE finish Highlander.....
I got some kinda stomech ache...so, no GOW today.....
But I will FOR SURE finish Highlander.....
BadMoon
Demi G0D Overseer
Condor something. It's my little bro's profile.
I got some kinda stomech ache...so, no GOW today.....
But I will FOR SURE finish Highlander.....
So that's why you're not in school?
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I gots summer school....since I suck at Math.
BadMoon
Demi G0D Overseer
I gots summer school....since I suck at Math.
I HATED math! Good luck.
galactiboy
OT Preferist
1.0 was all you need... any other Kurgan just wouldn't stack up to the original.
And Dave... your opinion is suspect as best
And Dave... your opinion is suspect as best
Who the hell is Clany Brown?
King Darkness
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I'm not worthy..........
King Darkness
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I feel so sad inside
kl241
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Here is the opening
BLACK AND YELLOW TARTAN PLAID
Fills the frame -- bold, symmetrical -- a tightly woven piece
of wool worn by members of the storied Clan MacLeod.
A WOMAN’S HANDS
Young but calloused, familiarly fold pleats into one end of
the cloth.
A MAN
Lies down with his back against the cloth -- muscular, smoothskinned
torso -- but we never see his face as:
The woman’s hands wrap the cloth around his body, an intimacy
to her touch as she does up the rough-hewn leather belt
around his waist.
The man stands, the pleated end of the cloth falling below
his knees as her hands now bring the garment up the man’s
back and over his left shoulder, fastening it with a pin.
SERIES OF SHOTS: the man places a sharp DIRK in a scabbard --
hand moves around the HILT of a CLAYMORE SWORD, the quillion
engraved: “MacLeod.”
The man slides home the sword into its sheath as WE RISE up
along his back, the man finally turning to face us revealing:
CONNER MACLEOD
Draped in Highland kilt and the instruments of war. Strong
and handsome, quick to anger, slow to forget a slight:
MacLeod is no better or worse than any other man of the early
16th century.
The SIMPLE BEAUTY who faces him in her plaid arisaid and head
covering is:
HEATHER MACLEOD
Conner’s wife -- independent streak a mile wide. The gaze
she shares with her husband burns red hot. MacLeod reaches
out and takes her hand, but she pulls it out of his grasp,
still furious about something, and leaves without a word.
MacLeod hangs his head and sighs.
EXT. VILLAGE - WEST HIGHLAND COAST - SCOTLAND - DAWN (1503)
Jagged peaks dropping precipitously into the sea. A line of
thatch-roofed Black Houses along the firth made choppy by an
approaching storm. Tethered curraghs bobbing in the water.
Sheep roaming freely through town.
The battle-ready men of Clan MacLeod, including the imposing
CHIEF of the Clan -- John “BOONCH” MacLeod (50s) -- say goodbyes
to wives and children.
MacLeod exits his house. He sees Heather standing off from
the rest of the clan. Alone.
CLOSE ON - HEATHER
Watching two YOUNG BOYS run into the arms of their father
ANGUS. Heather’s eyes betray a deep longing. [Gaelic
subtitled English]:
MACLEOD
[We’ll soon have one of our own.
You’ll see.]
HEATHER
[And if you don’t return?]
MACLEOD
[They murdered Cameron and Gregor.]
Heather glances at two covered BODIES lying on the shore.
HEATHER
[You don’t know that.]
MACLEOD
[Who else but the MacDonald’s?
They will pay in blood.]
HEATHER
[Always in blood.]
MACLEOD
[Yes --]
HEATHER
[You don’t have to do this, Conner.
You have a choice, you know.]
MACLEOD
[What choice do I have? There is
God and there is the clan.]
2.
HEATHER
[You’re a proud fool.]
Anger flashes in MacLeod’s eyes. Heather takes his hand and
places something inside it, closes his hand around it and
walks away. Across the shore men climb into boats. Rain
begins to fall softly.
MOMENTS LATER - MACLEOD
With half a dozen of his fellow men, oars in hands,
propelling one of the two dozen curraghs out into the water,
lug-sales rising up single masts in unison.
MacLeod opens his hand to find a small, silver heart-shaped
brooch -- a LUCKENBOOTH -- the object Heather gave him.
MacLeod closes his hand tightly around the charm and places
it safely inside his garment. Then:
MacLeod stands in the boat:
MACLEOD
[THOUGH WE ARE POOR...WE ARE BORN
NOBLE!]
A tremendous BATTLE CRY from the men as wind now fills the
sails, SNAPPING them out and speeding them toward the enemy.
MacLeod and the men pull the plaid cloth bunched around their
necks over their heads becoming menacing hooded warriors.
BLACK AND YELLOW TARTAN PLAID
Fills the frame -- bold, symmetrical -- a tightly woven piece
of wool worn by members of the storied Clan MacLeod.
A WOMAN’S HANDS
Young but calloused, familiarly fold pleats into one end of
the cloth.
A MAN
Lies down with his back against the cloth -- muscular, smoothskinned
torso -- but we never see his face as:
The woman’s hands wrap the cloth around his body, an intimacy
to her touch as she does up the rough-hewn leather belt
around his waist.
The man stands, the pleated end of the cloth falling below
his knees as her hands now bring the garment up the man’s
back and over his left shoulder, fastening it with a pin.
SERIES OF SHOTS: the man places a sharp DIRK in a scabbard --
hand moves around the HILT of a CLAYMORE SWORD, the quillion
engraved: “MacLeod.”
The man slides home the sword into its sheath as WE RISE up
along his back, the man finally turning to face us revealing:
CONNER MACLEOD
Draped in Highland kilt and the instruments of war. Strong
and handsome, quick to anger, slow to forget a slight:
MacLeod is no better or worse than any other man of the early
16th century.
The SIMPLE BEAUTY who faces him in her plaid arisaid and head
covering is:
HEATHER MACLEOD
Conner’s wife -- independent streak a mile wide. The gaze
she shares with her husband burns red hot. MacLeod reaches
out and takes her hand, but she pulls it out of his grasp,
still furious about something, and leaves without a word.
MacLeod hangs his head and sighs.
EXT. VILLAGE - WEST HIGHLAND COAST - SCOTLAND - DAWN (1503)
Jagged peaks dropping precipitously into the sea. A line of
thatch-roofed Black Houses along the firth made choppy by an
approaching storm. Tethered curraghs bobbing in the water.
Sheep roaming freely through town.
The battle-ready men of Clan MacLeod, including the imposing
CHIEF of the Clan -- John “BOONCH” MacLeod (50s) -- say goodbyes
to wives and children.
MacLeod exits his house. He sees Heather standing off from
the rest of the clan. Alone.
CLOSE ON - HEATHER
Watching two YOUNG BOYS run into the arms of their father
ANGUS. Heather’s eyes betray a deep longing. [Gaelic
subtitled English]:
MACLEOD
[We’ll soon have one of our own.
You’ll see.]
HEATHER
[And if you don’t return?]
MACLEOD
[They murdered Cameron and Gregor.]
Heather glances at two covered BODIES lying on the shore.
HEATHER
[You don’t know that.]
MACLEOD
[Who else but the MacDonald’s?
They will pay in blood.]
HEATHER
[Always in blood.]
MACLEOD
[Yes --]
HEATHER
[You don’t have to do this, Conner.
You have a choice, you know.]
MACLEOD
[What choice do I have? There is
God and there is the clan.]
2.
HEATHER
[You’re a proud fool.]
Anger flashes in MacLeod’s eyes. Heather takes his hand and
places something inside it, closes his hand around it and
walks away. Across the shore men climb into boats. Rain
begins to fall softly.
MOMENTS LATER - MACLEOD
With half a dozen of his fellow men, oars in hands,
propelling one of the two dozen curraghs out into the water,
lug-sales rising up single masts in unison.
MacLeod opens his hand to find a small, silver heart-shaped
brooch -- a LUCKENBOOTH -- the object Heather gave him.
MacLeod closes his hand tightly around the charm and places
it safely inside his garment. Then:
MacLeod stands in the boat:
MACLEOD
[THOUGH WE ARE POOR...WE ARE BORN
NOBLE!]
A tremendous BATTLE CRY from the men as wind now fills the
sails, SNAPPING them out and speeding them toward the enemy.
MacLeod and the men pull the plaid cloth bunched around their
necks over their heads becoming menacing hooded warriors.
d_jedi1
Super Freak
just gonna toss this out
did anyone else see Pathfinder?
Clancy Brown was the main viking so I'd think he still has it in him to play the Kurgan :chew
did anyone else see Pathfinder?
Clancy Brown was the main viking so I'd think he still has it in him to play the Kurgan :chew
I think it'd be in his best interest if Clancy didn't reprise the role. Where it's a reboot, and so many years after the original, unless he could surpass what he did the first time, it would only tarnish people's view of him for that role, he's made his mark, I think he should let it be, and let someone else fail at trying to recapture his magic.
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