J. Rowling - Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Hey—you thirsty?

PHOTOGRAPHER

Nah, I’m on the wagon. Promised Martha I’d lay off.

Wind begins to pick up, swirling around the building, accompanied by a high-pitched screeching. Graves alone looks interested.

A sudden series of bangs at street level. All turn to look for the source of the sound: A wall cracks, the rubble on the floor begins to shake before exploding like an earthquake, ripping out of the building and down through the middle of the street. The movement is violent, rushed—people and cars go flying.

The mysterious force then flies up into the air, swirling through the city, diving in and out of alleyways, before crashing down into a subway station.

CLOSE ON GRAVES as he examines the destruction of the street.

A mingled roar and howl emanates from the bowels of the earth.

Watching Newt walk, we see in him an unselfconscious Keatonesque quality, a sense of a different rhythm to those around him. In his hand he clutches directions on a small piece of paper, but still shows a scientist’s curiosity about this alien environment.

DAY

Newt, intrigued by the noise of shouting, approaches a rally of the New Salem Philanthropic Society.

Mary Lou Barebone, a handsome midwestern woman in a 1920s version of Puritan dress, charismatic and earnest, stands on a small stage at the steps to the City Bank.

Behind her stands a man parading a banner emblazoned with the organization’s symbol: Hands proudly grasping a broken wand amid bright yellow and red flames.

MARY LOU

(to the assembled crowd)

. . . this great city sparkles with the jewels of man’s invention! Movie theaters, automobiles, the wireless, electric lights—all dazzle and bewitch us!

Newt slows down and watches Mary Lou as he would observe a foreign species: No judgment, simply interest.

Nearby stands Tina Goldstein, hat low on her head, upturned collar. She is eating a hot dog, mustard smeared on her upper lip. Newt accidentally bumps into her as he makes his way to the front of the rally.

NEWT

Oh . . . so sorry.

MARY LOU

But where there is light there is shadow, friend. Something is stalking our city, wreaking destruction and then disappearing without a trace . . .

Jacob Kowalski moves nervously down the street toward the crowd, wearing an ill-fitting brown suit and carrying a battered brown leather case.

MARY LOU (O.S.)

We have to fight—join us, the Second Salemers, in our fight!

Jacob makes his way through the gathered crowds, also pushing past Tina.

JACOB

Excuse me, doll, just trying to get to the bank—excuse me—just trying . . .

Jacob trips over Newt’s case, disappearing momentarily. Newt hauls him up.

NEWT

I’m so sorry—my case—

JACOB

No harm done—

Jacob struggles on, heading past Mary Lou and up the steps of the bank.

JACOB

Excuse me!

The kerfuffle around Newt draws Mary Lou’s attention.

MARY LOU

(charming, to Newt)

You, friend! What drew you to our meeting today?

Newt is startled to find himself the center of attention.

NEWT

Oh . . . I was just—passing . . .

MARY LOU

Are you a seeker? A seeker after truth?

A beat.

NEWT

I’m more of a chaser, really.

ANGLE ON PEOPLE moving in and out of the bank.

A smartly dressed man flips a dime toward a beggar sitting on the steps.

CLOSE ON THE DIME, falling in slow motion.

MARY LOU (O.S.)

Hear my words and heed my warning . . .

ANGLE ON SOME LITTLE PAWS, which have appeared in the narrow crack between the lid and the body of Newt’s case.

ANGLE ON THE DIME hitting the steps with a musical clang.

ANGLE ON THE PAWS, now trying hard to prize open the case.

MARY LOU

. . . and laugh if you dare: Witches live among us!

Mary Lou’s three adopted children, adults Credence and Chastity, and Modesty (an eight-year-old girl), hand out leaflets. Credence appears nervous and troubled.

MARY LOU (O.S.)

We have to fight together for the sake of our children—for the sake of tomorrow!

(to Newt)

What do you say to that, friend?

As Newt looks up toward Mary Lou, something seen from the corner of his eye catches his attention. The Niffler, a small, furry black cross between a mole and a duck-billed platypus, is sitting on the steps of the bank, hastily pulling the beggar’s hat full of money out of sight behind a pillar.

Newt, startled, looks down at his case.

ANGLE ON THE NIFFLER, busy shoveling the beggar’s coins into a pouch in its belly. The Niffler looks up, notices Newt’s gaze, and hurriedly gathers the rest of the coins before tumbling away and into the bank.

Newt jolts forward.

NEWT

Excuse me.

ANGLE ON MARY LOU—she looks confused at Newt’s lack of interest in her cause.

MARY LOU (O.S.)

Witches live among us.

ANGLE ON TINA, moving through the crowds, eyeing Newt suspiciously.

A large, impressive-looking bank atrium. In the center, behind a golden counter, clerks are busy at work serving customers.

Newt skids to a halt in the entrance of the space and looks around to find his creature. His dress and demeanor make him out of place among the smartly dressed New Yorkers.

BANK EMPLOYEE

(suspicious)

Can I help you, sir?

NEWT

No, I was just . . . just . . . waiting . . .

Newt motions toward a bench and backs away, taking a seat next to Jacob.

Tina peers at Newt from behind a pillar.

JACOB

(nervous)

Hi. What brings you here?

Newt is desperately trying to spot his Niffler.

NEWT

Same as you . . .

JACOB

You’re here to get a loan to open up a bakery?

NEWT

(looking around—preoccupied)

Yes.

JACOB

What are the odds of that? Well, may the best man win, I guess.

Newt spots the Niffler, which is now stealing coins from someone’s bag.

Jacob holds out his hand, but Newt is off.

NEWT

Excuse me.

Newt darts away. In his place on the bench lies a large silver egg.