PoP Original Screenplay
Regarding Prince of Persia’s recent journey from video game to movie, I’m sometimes asked how closely the final film follows my original story.
Now that the movie is out on DVD/Blu-Ray, I figure the easy way to satisfy curiosity is to simply post my screenplay from June 2005.
Quick history: This was the last draft I wrote, starting from the story John August and I pitched to Disney/Bruckheimer in 2004. A series of other writers took it from there: Jeff Nachmanoff, Boaz Yakin, Doug Miro & Carlo Bernard, in that order, resulting in the shooting script that went into production in summer 2008.
The making of the movie is well documented in Michael Singer’s coffee-table-worthy book and the movie DVD/Blu-Ray extras. Now, you can see how it started.
Update: If you’re curious about the game-into-movie adaptation process, I’ve also posted the original game script of Ubisoft’s Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time, which I wrote in 2002-03, and an accompanying article about how that game story was developed. As these materials illustrate, writing for games and movies are two very different crafts.
October 20, 1985
UPDATE: The complete “Making of Prince of Persia” Old Journals have also been published as a book. You can purchase a paperback, Kindle, iBooks, or PDF copy here, or continue to read them for free in blog form.
Videotaped David running and jumping in the Reader’s Digest parking lot. It’ll do for a start.
October 17, 1985
I ought to videotape David this weekend, because I have to return the camera by Tuesday.
Problems with using David as a model: By the time I figure out what additional footage I need, he’ll be 3,000 miles away (and probably several inches taller).
Ed Bernstein called back. ”I get the feeling I’m supposed to make you an offer,” he said. “Why don’t you make me a counter-offer?”
I wondered how you can make a counter-offer when there’s been no offer to begin with. But I said: “No advance, no salary, and a 20% royalty. That would be my ideal.”
He came right back with: “My ideal would be no advance, no salary, and a 15% royalty.”
I hate negotiating with people I like. My impulse is to be nice. I don’t want them to think I’m greedy. On the other hand, I want as much money as I can get.
This morning I sat in the sun and reread My Side of the Mountain. It got me thinking about how far removed from nature my life is. Staring at a computer screen all day. Fast food, fluorescent lights. I’m only 21; my eyes should be bluish-white, instead they’re bloodshot.
The yen to wander is still in me. It’s not dead. Thanks, Jean George.
August 30, 1985
Another good day on the game. (Screenplay? What screenplay?) I’m getting to the point where I want to rush out and buy a video camera, a VCR and a digitizer and get to work.
Atari Karateka arrived FedEx. It looks great, sounds awful. Dad and I spent the day troubleshooting the music. It should be OK, but nowhere near Commodore quality.
I’m unutterably happy that I’m getting psyched up for this new game. It fills me with joy and confidence in the future.
Then again, maybe feeling good doesn’t necessarily mean that what I write is good. Maybe the best stuff is produced out of blackest despair. Or maybe not.
August 28, 1985
One of those rainy late-summer days. Woke up at 11:30, drove Mom into town and back.
Finished that letter to Ed Bernstein at Broderbund. I needed to come up with some kind of storyline, so I just wrote something off the top of my head. I sealed the letter and mailed it.
Then a strange thing happened. I started getting images in my head of the characters: The Sultan. The Princess. The Boy. I saw the scenes in my mind as if it were a Disney movie. So I wrote up a scenario — churned it out in an hour. It came out pretty well, I think. It’s just similar enough to Karateka, but more plausible, more intricate, and most important, more humorous. Gene will love it. Maybe the back story could even be written up and illustrated, like a comic book, and published with the game.
My night thoughts lately have been along the lines of: “Do I have it in me to do another computer game? Is this what I want to do? Can I do it? What if the code-writing part of my brain has atrophied? Will I fail ignominiously? Should I just turn to screenwriting full-time?”
Today made me feel better.
