Before 23 years Welsh penned the masterpiece movie Trainspotting, the spectacular adaptation of underclass t generations of the city . The movie crew is all set to do the next part and will be releasing it on 2017.
Ewan McGregor, Ewen Bremner, and Jonny Lee Miller are all expected to reprise their roles as Mark “Rent Boy” Renton, Daniel “Spud” Murphy, and Simon “Sick Boy” Williamson, respectively. Original cast members Robert Carlyle is also set to return as Francis “Franco” Begbie in Trainspotting 2.
Let’s have a blast from the past by reading the script of first part
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.
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.
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.
INT. SWANNEY’S FLAT ROOM. DAY
In a bare, dingy room, Renton lies on the floor, alone, motionless and drugged.
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:
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 ga me 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 futu re. 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.
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?
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 suc cess.
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 jun k 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
From time to time, even I have uttered the magic words.
Are you serious?
Yeah. No more. I’m finished with that shite.
Well, it’s up to you.
I’m going to get it right this time. Going to get it set up and get off it for good.
Sure, sure. I’ve heard it before.
The Sick Boy method.
They both look at Sick Boy
Yeah, well, it surely worked for him.
He’s always been lacking in moral fibre.
He knows a lot about Sean Connery.
That’s hardly a substitute.
you’ll need one more hit.
No, I don’t think so.
To see you through the night that lies ahead.
Freeze Frame on Swanney.