log specials

Below is the script of Light of Life. It was written by Micah and Peter Granderson and is their sole property. Written permission must be obtained before any duplication or use of this script.

This is an early form of the script. Some scenes have been removed, others have been changed. This is, however, the same version of the script that was used during the shooting. Enjoy!


A screenplay by

Micah and Peter Granderson.



Sound of offset footfalls becomes audible. Scraping stones and slight chink of metal can be heard.

Dozens of feet walk, slipping and stumbling over rough, rock-strewn ground. It is daytime, but dark and gray. No grass or any bright color can be seen, only dust, rocks, drab clothing, and filthy legs and feet. All wear blindfolds and are carrying various burdens of some kind – bags, rocks, garden tools, pieces of metal. Their faces are expressionless, concentrating on the ground ahead as though they can see it and intent only on walking and carrying their burdens.

PILGRIM walks amongst them with his arms wrapped awkwardly around a large bundle of wares. He walks, sweat trickling from his blindfold, down his face. A light comes into view dim at first and then surging brighter before dimming again. As Pilgrim toils on, the light can be seen to glimmer briefly across his sagging shoulders. His shoulders tighten as if reacting to a physical touch. He slows slightly and begins to turn his head, but someone jostles against him and he falls back in with the crowd.

A scroll falls from directly overhead, straight toward Pilgrim. A light glows from inside of it, shining out a beam like a lighthouse as it flips end over end. The scroll glances off of Pilgrims head and tumbles onto the ground. Pilgrim recoils from the blow and stops, turning his head back and forth as if trying to see what hit him. Pausing, he reaches up and feels his eyes. He finds the blind fold and tugs at it as if he wasn't aware before that he was wearing one. It comes loose and he blinks his eyes in the newfound light. He gets more comfortable in the luminance and stares fixedly down at it. The parchment lies a few feet away, shining light out to either side. The beam of light shining out to the sides, combined with the narrow gap in the river of people forms a cross shape on the ground.

Pilgrim squats and lifts the parchment. Standing, he unrolls it to reveal a simple, white arrow, glowing slightly against the dim gray world around it. The light glimmers off of his sweaty face as he stares wide-eyed at the arrow. He turns toward the direction that the arrow points. As he rotates, the arrow turns the opposite direction on the parchment to remain pointing in the same direction. Looking up, he sees the light glimmering above the horizon. As his eyes fall on it, the light surges in brightness, shining in his wide eyes. A look of longing comes over his face and he abruptly sets off toward the light, against the flow of people.

People bump into him and grunt in shock and anger at the disturbance to their usual pattern. They glare and shake their heads, but quickly fall back in step and move away. All the while, Pilgrim keeps his eyes on the star, moving his head so that he can see around oncoming people.

Just as the flow of people starts to become more than he can bear, he comes upon an embankment and begins scrambling up it. Turning to drag his bag up behind him, he loses grip on the parchment and it falls to the ground. He grabs it as it rolls toward the crowd, but as he does, his bag slips downwards. He tries to find a way to stow the scroll, but fails. Gripping the bag with both hands while holding the parchment, he pulls with all his strength. Pausing, he looks down at the scroll choosing which to drop. The scroll gleams slightly in the darkness. Pilgrims eyes widen with renewed fascination and he suddenly flings the bag back into the crowd. The people drip and fall over the bag, then begin picking greedily at it.


Pilgrim scrambles up the hill after a long climb. He stands panting for a few seconds. Remembering the star, he jerks his head up to look at it. As he looks, dark clouds move over the light. The world instantly becomes colder, meaner. Wind ripples his clothes as he stands staring at where the light last was. A wall of black looms over the tiny figure of Pilgrim as he stands on the top of the hill. Lighning flashes in the distance, illuminating the clowds. Pilgrim jerks his head toward the light. Lightning flashes again, and again. Pilgrim looks from one to the other, as confusion and desperation wells in his eyes. Finally, focusing his concentration, he stares straight ahead, raps his arms around the scroll and begins walking.


Rain drizzles down on Pilgrim as he struggles down the hill. Lightning, now very close, flashes and booms around him he glances fearfully at the lightning on either side. He falls cutting his leg on a rock. Pulling himself up, he continues on.


The air is heavy and oppressive as Pilgrim stumbles into a flat area at the bottom of a depression. Worn and cracked gravestones are strewn everywhere, turned at all angles. Pilgrim wanders into the midst of them and looks up at a signpost. It holds several arrows, but they all read, “Death.” Pilgrim turns and stares aghast at the view around him, uncared-for tombs in all directions. Suddenly his eyes take on a desperate look and he starts off as if to run. He halts abruptly, confusion showing on his face as he looks for which way to go. He turns in a thrashing motion, desparate to leave but not sure where to go. The parchment slides from where it was tucked in his belt and tumbles onto the ground. Unrolling as it falls, the parchment lands with the arrow shining steadily, pointing to the way away from Death. Picking up the parchment and holding it flat before him, he starts out of the graveyard. The parchment casts a dim, white light on the path before him as he walks. As he exits the depression and walks up a slight rise, small shadows with green glints of light appear from behind the gravestones and take to the air with a faint swish.


Darkness creeps in from all around, but Pilgrim walks with a confident, measured step. Suddenly a fluttering of leathery wings is heard and something brushes against him. He almost loses his balance. No sooner has he recovered then another comes at him – a small, stringy shadow of a figure with green, beady eyes. The creatures hiss and spit as they dive at him. Pilgrim, acting in fear and shock, plugs his ears and dives out of the way. The scroll falls from his grip and rolls away. The creatures pounce on him as soon as he hits the ground, biting and tearing at his clothing. He screams and writhes on the ground. The parchment lies a short distance away with a soft glow emitting from the ends. He reaches toward it and it surges brighter. Rolling over, he grabs it and stands, a tiny demon still clinging to his ear. Yanking the scroll open, the light pours out, washing out his face in white. The creature hanging on his ear and another clinging to his shoulder scream and disappear in a waft of black smoke. Flipping the scroll over he shines it at his shadowy attackers. The ground air immediately becomes thick with small explosions of smoke. He looks to the light.


Pilgrim walks easily. The path is straight and smooth. The light is still dim, but there is an after-rain fog lingering over the ground that refreshes him. In fact, the way has become so easy that he takes his mind off the path and walks along, lost in his own thoughts, glancing about carelessly. Then he stops. Off in the mist is a woman dressed in a long white gown, seeming to glow against the gray fog. She stands perfectly still looking at him. He looks back. She raises her clasped hands moving the fingers of the outer hand slightly, indicating the she wants him to come forward. He does slowly but with slight reservation as if he might go if things get the slightest bit ugly. He stops a ways off. She continues her endless gaze, raising her eyebrows slightly it question of his stopping. He starts to take a step back. Suddenly she pinches her face and sticks her tongue out before turning abruptly and hurrying away. Pilgrim is totally taken aback. He stands stupefied and allows his body to slowly gravitate in the direction that she fled. He takes off running. He sees her a short way off. Now she is a bit off to another direction, disappearing in and out of the mist. Then she is right in front of him. He stops so abruptly that he stumbles backwards. She reaches out and slowly and grasps his collar. She pulls him forward. Pilgrim knows that something is wrong, but he has no will to resist. The woman purses her limps and blows a stream of fluffy dandelion seedlings across his face. They continue streaming out of her mouth until they block the view entirely. Suddenly black smoke erupts, filling the scene.

Pilgrim reels away from the cloud of smoke gasping, with a horrified look on his face. He turns to look again at where the girl was and sees that only wafts of black smoke remain. Terror overtakes him and he freezes for a moment, not sure what to expect. As if sensing intense danger, Pilgrim sweeps the scroll open. The arrow, black at first, blasts light into the sky. He runs in the direction indicted and leaps forward just as the ground caves away with a tearing sound. He lands clinging to the edge of the far cliff and pulls himself up.


Pilgrim’s feet splash into water at the edge of a wide river. The sky is overcast and a fog obscures the far bank. He pauses, unsure about entering the dark water. In the sky, the clouds grow thinner and the star shines down again, now very bright. The light gives Pilgrim comfort and he steps out deeper into the water. The water is almost still, but he seems weighed down; soon he’s struggling to stay afloat. Gasping, his head goes under, but just as fast, it comes back out and his feet find firm ground. As he walks out of the water, it becomes apparent that he no longer is bloodied, bruised and dirty. The clouds part to reveal that the light in the sky is the glint off of a spinneret. The sky opens up and before him is a wondrous celestial city. His journey is over; he has reached the land of eternal light.