MOVIE Treatment The Strolling Bones

THE STROLLING BONES � (or SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL)

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Outline by Davo McConville July 2011

A young journalist stumbles on The Rolling Stones' greatest secret, forcing him to save the soul of a female singer falling under the spell of the Devil.

Overview: After 50 years as the greatest rock’n’roll band on Earth, a young journalist goes on tour with The Rolling Stones to find out what still drives them; he gets more than he bargained for, uncovering the pact with the Devil that keeps them on the road against their will. Meanwhile, the Devil has a new target, a female singer touring with the Stones. Can the journalist release the Stones from their curse and convince her not to sign her soul away in exchange for fame? Outline: “The Strolling Bones” is a noir-mystery delving deep behind the scenes on tour with the world’s biggest rock and roll band: The Rolling Stones. Max Barber is a young member of a dying breed; Gonzo music journalists who love life on the road and at great speed. We meet Max while touring with a modern indie band who are definitely not to his taste. Max longs for the age of true rock’n’roll, he idolises the excess of the sixties; good times, great music and huge ambition. He is following in the footsteps of his late mother, who in the 1960s she covered the glory years of music all over the world. When Max finds her decades-old correspondance with Mick Jagger he discovers the clues to a great mystery. Max gets a pass to their European tour via Ivy Jupiter, a rising singer who he is commissioned to profile for a magazine. But he neglects this duty, spending his time getting close to the crew in the hope of brief snatches of time with the Stones. Late one night after a show, he unwittingly uncovers the Stones’ greatest secret; that they sold their soul to the devil in exchange for success, and now, fifty years on, they’re tired of constantly touring the world. They want out. Max is terrified; whom can he tell? Who would believe him? And he’s being drawn ever-further into this dangerous situation.


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Max realises that there’s a new soul at stake; Ivy’s. He struggles to prevent her from making the same deal the Stones made fifty years ago, a struggle made harder by the lack of trust between them. Even at the best of times, rock journalists and musicians make for uncomfortable bedfellows. And here, in the maelstrom of a major tour, the journalist is pulled into smaller and smaller circles of madness. Can Max convince Ivy not to sign away her soul, and can they rescue the Stones from their own (un)enviable curse? Or will the journalist be enveloped by the world of rock and roll? The film is a mystery-comedy-horror in the vein of The Witches of Eastwick, Evil Dead, Twelve Monkeys and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and will provide an opportunity for a truly great British ensemble cast playing the Stones (unless they wanted to play themselves). Imagine Ian McKellan as Mick Jagger, Jeremy Irons as Charlie Watts, John Hurt as Keith Richards and Ben Kingsley as Ronnie Wood.


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Treatment by Davo McConville July 2011

A young journalist stumbles on The Rolling Stones' greatest secret, forcing him to save the soul of a female singer falling under the spell of the Devil.

Story: The film opens with a montage covering the rise and rise of THE ROLLING STONES, the greatest rock’n’roll group of all time. To the soundtrack of “Start Me Up”, we see the Stones having what seems to be a continual party. Years go by and times are good. Maybe the alert watcher will notice a dark-suited man in the background of every photograph. He is never in the foreground, but always there, always watching... We’re jolted back to reality as someone shouts at Max Barber. They’re in the backstage area of a tiny venue, and Max is watching the Stones montage on a tiny television – and doesn’t appreciate the interruption. A band pile in and ask that he turn it off. Max is outraged: they don’t appreciate the Stones? He starts to lecture them on the subject, until they rebuff him and ask whether they can just get on with the interview. Max does so, and is increasingly frustrated with the answers they give. He makes it clear that they aren’t up to the standard – musically or personalities – that he expects from music. He tries everything he can liven them up, seemingly without success, as we cut to: Max at home, listening back to the taped interview and trying to write his article. We meet his dad, Carter, an ex-musician and widower, burnt out by living too dangerously, who is now looked after by Max. Today his dad hands him a package, long thought forgotten. It contains correspondance between Max’s mother Judy and Mick Jagger, outlining and discussing some event at the beginning of the Stones’ career. Max goes to meet his friend, Jerry, who runs the local record shop. Times are tough for an independent store, but Jerry soldiers on. He sells mystical trinkets as a sideline, to supplement the vinyl he stocks at a loss. Here Jerry states the theme of the movie; that rock and roll is here to stay, that glory is worth the fiery burnout, the Icarus effect. He cites Max’s dad as an example. He had it all… and lost it. But to have had it once, that’s something


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great. Max is set on his path; he must investigate these letters, this mysterious event, follow the trail his mother left for him. Jerry insists on selling him a magical talisman to protect him from European witchcraft and devilry. On his return home, his dad has answered the phone. It’s the editor of the Times of London. He’s interested in commissioning Max, whose work he appreciates. The editor would like a documentary piece about life on the road… with Ivy Jupiter, a rising star currently on a European tour with The Rolling Stones. Even as Max issues a resounding ‘yes’, an envelope drops through his letterbox, containing plane tickets and his tour pass. Max’s father suddenly becomes strangely lucid. He tells Max that he shouldn’t go, that it’s a dangerous and all-consuming world that he doesn’t want Max mixed up in anymore. “This is something I need to do, dad. You’ll be ok here on your own.” Day one: Oslo. Max makes his way into the venue, an enormous arena surrounded by heavy snow. As he attempts entry his way is barred by a bouncer too big to be real, who lifts Max by his rucksack and demands to see his pass. Fumbling, Max retrieves it and is admitted. He manages to get backstage and attempts to schedule his first meeting with Ivy, but things don’t go well. He’s arrived too late to see her performance, and her day manager tells him that Ivy won’t be able to meet him today, as the barometer shows a “No Bullshit Zone”. Kicking his heels, Max wanders around the arena backstage, managing to get in the way of several determined looking stagehands. When Max finally does meet Ivy the next day in Stockholm, he obviously isn’t enthused about it. Ivy has read his articles, likes them, and is keen to talk to him about music and the stars of the past, as well as her own career. But Max remains distracted. He wants to talk about his adventure, his goal; to meet and interview Mick. This pattern repeats itself for a few days, with Max meeting all kinds of strange characters between snippets of interaction with Ivy – and no sign of the Stones, except onstage. Ivy is desperate to be friends with Max, and for his advice, but he continues to ignore her direct requests; though their mutual attraction is evident. The fifth show; Romania. Max is circling the venue outside, looking for some vox populi from the natives. Instead he meets a strangely decrepit man; a wizard, by the looks of him, who gives him a grave and sincere warning. Escape, young Barber. Escape while you still can.


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During this period, Max starts to meet the key players in the touring party; the tour manager and the head of the roadies. Max attempts to convince the tour manager that he should have an interview with the Stones; when this plan fails, Max changes tack; he targets the roadcrew, convinced that he can get to the Stones through them. After initial suspicion, the roadcrew deliver an initiation to Max. They have a frat-style ceremony that culminates in Max drinking a strange brew. Dizzy, Max leaves the room and staggers towards the stage, intending to watch the Stones from the side of the stage. Suddenly there’s a great roar and the corridor is plunged into darkness. Max starts to panic. In the darkened corridor, lights begin to make their way towards Max. Ghostly, reminiscent of a procession from The Wicker Man, the strange glowing shapes approach until they’re right on top of him…. And it’s the Stones, striding through the corridors to take the stage; Max is pushed against a wall, and sees fleeting glimpses of their faces as they pass. In the dim light, they look frightening. The Stones play their set. The crowd is rapturous, the band natural rock gods. Max stands at the side of the stage, craning his neck for a view but obstructed by other guests of the band. The brew he has drunk is having an strange effect, and he stumbles away early in search of a place to lie down. He is rushing trying door handles desperately, all of which seem to be locked. The only one that will open is marked “Do Not Enter: High Voltage”. Inside, there is a shock. It is a luxurious dressing room, clad in red velvet and lit by smoky red candles. Max can’t quite take all this in, and he falls to the floor behind a sofa, lying paralysed but conscious. The Rolling Stones tumble into the dressing room, having just finished their performance. Far from being excited about another great gig, they immediately descend into complaints. KEITH RICHARDS collapses onto the sofa, his back in agony. CHARLIE WATTS sits, upright, in a wooden chair, his arms bruised and tired. RONNIE WOODS tears off his shoes and dips his feet into a foot-spa. MICK JAGGER cannot speak, his voice has disappeared. We view this action from Max’s perspective, unable to move but totally aware. The candles in the room start to flicker, a chill wind blows. Max’s terror rises, but the Stones seem unfazed, cavalier about this intrusion. They stand, and sit in on barstools arranged in a circle. Nubs of horns start to appear, painfully, on their foreheads. Amidst a flurry of black particles, a man materialises in the centre of


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the room; Max strains to see his face, but recognises the timeless visage when he does. It is the man from the photographs; THE DEVIL himself. The Stones’ complaints grow louder. We’re tired, they say, tired of constant touring. Our bodies are wearing out, we can’t keep doing this. You knew the details when you signed the contract. We didn’t read contracts back then. We just wanted to make music. Don’t play dumb with me, boys. You’re all smart cookies. So when are we free? But I’m tired, boss. You’re tired? Man up, Watts. The Devil listens, quietly at first. Before erupting. I made you! He screams, and everyone flinches; if you didn’t understand the principles behind selling your soul, you should have found a better lawyer. You’re mine, and I’ll have you on the road ‘till kingdom come. Till the flesh falls from your bones! And beyond! As he turns to leave, he eyeballs the closet; he goes to it, slamming the door open. But there’s nothing inside the cupboard except a black flight-case. Hours pass. The dressing room lies still. A production team is packing it down into cases, and loading it into the back of trailer vans. The flight-case is opened, and Max pops out. I’m a journalist!, he exclaims, flashing his pass, before escaping back to the relative safety of his hotel, where he lies, shivering, aghast at the thought of what he has seen. The next night, Max sees Ivy again. She slumps next to him in a chair, firing questions at him about his job and insinuating that he’s no better than a gossip columnist. He barely reacts, and she is intrigued, teasing him further. He manages to get one question out, but it’s a laughable attempt; and in that manner Ivy responds, walking away shaking her head. The band again take the stage, with increasingly elaborate set-pieces. We are taken through a montage of dates; Stockholm, Helsinki, Copenhagen, Warsaw. Each night the stage set gets more and more dangerous, with fire leaping up from the stage and harnesses flying the Stones above the crowd. Max speaks to a stage hand, asking him about the increasing dangers. He tells him that the Stones seem keen to push the boundaries of what a live show can be. They’ll kill themselves, says Max. Well, hopefully not on my watch, says the stage hand. That night Max tries to talk to Ivy about what he saw. She plays it cool; too cool to talk to him. What’s changed? Then he sees her later, talking to the man; the Devil.


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Max lies in a hotel bed, the next morning. He stretches out, painfully, and turns over toward the window. Sitting next to it is CHARLIE WATTS, the drummer. Charlie talks to him. Research. Max is up all night in the library, checking the facts. First on the Stones, finding old photos and footage of them, devil in tow. Pinpointing the exact point in time that the deal was made. Gathering material to use against him. Some chink in the armour. He then researches books on demonics, needing an interpreter in the German library. Berlin. That night, Max stands at a vending machine, trying to get a drink out of it. He becomes aware of a presence, standing behind him. Like a zombie attack, Keith Richards lurches out of the shadows, groaning deeply. Max shrieks, recoiling, not sure what to do. Keith stands in front of the machine, motionless. Max finally gets a chance to talk to one of them; he is awed and scared, in that order. But the only thing he can think to ask is: would you like to die onstage? Keith laughs; too hard, a rasp that starts in his toes and erupts through his being. If only I could, son. If only I could, he says. Still, worth a try, no? Our only way out was at 27; drug-fuelled late nights back then would have done it. That’s the year, the only year you’re allowed to opt out. But now? We’re impervious to parties, he says. And the shitty thing is, we don’t want any of it, no more. We just want to cuddle up and listen to the cricket with a hot drink. Max leaves Keith leaning against the drinks machine and runs through the corridors, desperate to find Ivy. She’s leaving her dressing room, getting ready to go to the tour bus. He startles her, demands to know what’s going on. Ivy reacts angrily to Max’s suggestions, saying that they’re ludicrous. She overreacts, as she now trusts the Devil. Ivy and Max infuriate each other. Sparks fly. They separate, walking down different corridors at a pace. Max, not looking where he is going, walks straight into guitarist Ronnie Wood, who is in transit the other way. Max tags along, tries to speak to and reason with Ronnie, who he has misinterpreted as a “nice” Stone. Ronnie turns on him, almost violently. Why are you trying to ruin a good thing we’ve got going here? He is punched by this sixty-five year old, and sent flying back into a pile of boxes. Max lies prone, talking to himself, rehashing the events that have led to this point. A voice calls out to him; a hand reaches out to help him out. It’s the session bassist for the group, BENJAMIN. He introduces himself and asks Max if he needs a drink. Max is taken to crew catering, where he meets various crew members and enjoys the greatest coffee he’s ever tasted. Benjamin tells him that he’s not to


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worry, that it’s a big tour and it’s easy to get bowled over by it. Max trusts Benjamin, so he tells him his suspicions. It sound crazy, I know, he says, but I saw it with my own eyes. Benjamin listens carefully, full of concern and supportive murmurings. I think I might know someone who can help you, he says. Point of no return. Benjamin leads Max through the building, winding nooks and crannies, odd smoke-filled lanes and workshops, to a door. Behind the door, says Benjamin, lies the answer to your problems. It swings open to reveal The Devil, stretched out on a chaise longue. He gestures to a free chair, a high-backed, severe-looking wooden chair. Let’s talk, Mr Barber. The Devil warns the journalist not to spoil the game - we’ve gone this far without a problem, why start one now? You do your job, I do mine, and they do theirs. Every night. Max wants to know why he’s done this... why he’s tortured this band for so long. Oh, my boy, so short sighted. Where do you think all this came from? This life, this excess, this music? It’s a fitting soundtrack for these times, don’t you think? Max reels, tries to argue. He can’t; he is conflicted. If the devil really did facilitate rock’n’roll, who is he to stand in the way? The penny drops; how many other people have you done this to? Well, let’s put it this way, says The Devil. Mr Richards told you; the only way out was at 27. Would you rather be a servant in heaven or a king in hell? Well, maybe a prince. Or a lesser Max. Max runs, again. Running from choices, running from the physical incarnation of evil. He breaks out into the streets of Berlin, where punks jeer at him, dogs growl and homeless people loom on the shadows of his imagination. He finally hails a cab, piling in, short of breath. We can only see the cab driver’s eyes. Max finds himself opening up to this stranger, about recent events that have left him confused and frightened. The cab driver is kind; brutally honest and seems more interested in Max’s feelings for Ivy than anything else. Dream sequence? Trip out. Max barricades himself inside his hotel room, checking carefully for stray drummers that could be lurking underneath the bed or inside the trouser press. He fires up his ancient PC laptop and starts to write furiously under the headline “Rolling Stones - The Unbelievable Truth”. A montage of writing and retrieving coffee from the vending machine follows. Morning; his clock reads 11am, and the alarm sounds. Max drags himself from the bed, flips up the laptop screen and checks what he’s written. As he looks at it, the words begin to morph. The headline changes: “Rolling Stones - An Unbelievable Party”. A beat. Max slams the screen shut; picks up the laptop, and


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launches it out of the window with a scream. In the street below, the Stones look up at him and down at the laptop at their feet. His phone rings; it’s his editor, checking how the story on Ivy is going. He only has five days left, remember. Max grabs his bag and heads for a television studio, where the Stones are performing live today. Max confronts the band, live on television - tells them that the world needs to know, that they need to be freed. That the band is evil, not them. Mick responds; this kid doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The band has made them rich, given them everything they ever wanted. Max’s just some snot-nosed journalist, and believe Mick; they’ve seen off their fair share of them. A lifetime’s worth. On his way out, Max is confronted by Ivy, who is perplexed by his behaviour, then angry. Max, lambasted on live television, rejected by people he was trying to help, and estranged from Ivy, cuts his losses. He returns to London, empty-handed. His editor cannot believe that he’s back; where’s the story? He doesn’t have one, because there isn’t one. The Rolling Stones will always tour, and it will always be the same. Max is resigned to his life, which seems duller and more wintry than ever. He’s back at his mum’s house. He’s sent to review terrible live gigs. But the elephant in the room is constant. He sees the Stones’ logo everywhere. The devil meets him in a pub – or talks to him through a television, with noone else able to see the exchange. Their flesh will fall off? Really? I don’t know. Noone’s ever made it that far. What about u2? What about them? They’re not one of mine. I don’t want souls for the sake of souls. I’m collecting good musicians, here. Finally, walking past a television shop, he sees Ivy on the screens. She’s doing well, playing live and obviously thrilling the crowd. He is cheered by her good fortune. The stage show is different; gone is the acoustic guitar, she’s more active onstage... and The Devil is standing at the side of the stage, grinning. Max, alarmed, hails a cab. To the airport! The die is cast; Max must high-tail it to Moscow in a vain attempt to save Ivy’s soul. After a rough cab ride at the other end through Russian back-streets (during which he suspects the driver is the same man from Berlin), he reaches the venue. He is beaten by security first, then has to don a disguise and scalp a ticket, paying over the odds, then barter his way through security. As soon as he passes that red rope, the world begins to dissolve. Nightmarish visions envelop him, and figures loom over him; the session musicians, the crew members, all with fiery red eyes.


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The three backing singers writhe like Medusas, hair grasping at the ceiling as if alive. Max struggles through; they do not touch him, just assailing him with their presence. As long as he does not grant them power over him, they are powerless. Max now sees the truth, and in this state he pulls back the stage curtain and steps onstage. As he does so, time stands still. Two Ivys stand on stage, one frozen in performance and one standing next to The Devil, in the centre of the stage, holding a contract. You see the rewards that await you, girl? The Devil has gifted her with a tasting of what he has in store. Max rushes across, grabs Ivy, gives a speech about her and what she is worth. She is worth everything, and she would give that up for what? Riches? Power? The Devil responds; what more do we have in this life? If you’re not rich and powerful your time is dripped away like a leaky kitchen tap. Money is a measure of human control; and this, he says, beckoning around them at the enormous arena of rabid fans, this is a control beyond even that. These are souls that you can own. Timeshare? “There was no editor, Max.” The Devil imitates the voice that has been talking to Max on the phone all along. Max produces the trinket given to him by Jerry; his trump card, a ward against evil. The Devil looks beaten, crumples. Then stands up, transformed into Jerry. “Who do you think could run a record shop in this climate?” the Devil says. “Why d’you do it?”, asks Max. “Because, dear boy, I love great music. I truly do. And great music demands great sacrifice; but look at what joy it brings.” The Devil gestures out into the crowd. Max looks out, over the audience. “So what do you say,” says the Devil. “Do you believe in sacrifice? Don’t pity these old, wicked men; they knew what they did, and I have given them great powers. You’re free to go; but don’t look back. You can be whatever you want to be; a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher. Have a regular job, and hold on to your immortal soul. Go! Just go!” Or: “You can join me. Hold hands with the Devil, rock and roll everyday and everynight.” The crux of the film, offering Max what he’s been talking about all along – and offering it alongside Ivy, the chance to be immortal and godly together. And Max…. takes it. In the name of great music, adventure and celebrating the moment.


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Last scene; devil and Stones. So what’s this I hear you’ve been saying about me, Charlie? Nothing, sir. That’s right nothing. So shut your plughole and pick up your sticks. We’ve got arenas to fill.

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MOVIE Treatment The Strolling Bones