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A 40 year old script, crediting Martin Scorsese as the author of the final version, has emerged from a mysterious Dutch archive. And now it seems to be up for sale at Christie’s Film Memorabilia Auction in London, England, come November 24th.

On a Friday evening, back in 1968, two young Dutch filmmakers met two Americans in one of those old Amsterdam bars that may once have been frequented by Rembrandt himself. One of the Americans introduced himself as Marty Scorsese; the other one was named Harvey Keitel. And it so happened that they were in film business too.
The two Dutchmen, Pim Delaparra and Wilhelm Verstappen had just established a production company under the name of $corpio Films and they had big plans. Their first film was widely acclaimed as an artistic endeavor on the recent Berlin Film Festival, even attracting the attention of French cinematographers such as Francois Truffaut and Jean-Luc Godard, but it flopped in the theatre. That had to change.

Just by chance, the guy named Marty Scorsese found himself in a similar position. His first full length feature film “Who's That Knocking at My Door?”, had favourable reviews at the 1967 Chicago Film Festival, but only one distributor agreed to pick it up under the condition that is should be sexed up somewhat. That was actually the reason Scorsese was in Amsterdam, city without taboos, to shoot the additional scenes. And that very evening they were celebrating the wrap-up of his film. All in all, the entire production had taken several years.

Perhaps that explained why Marty’s friend, Harvey, was not too keen about the whole movie business. He had a serious job as a court stenographer and had to be back in New York on Monday. The only reason he was in Amsterdam, was to do his buddy for many years a favour, being the lead male character. But as far a he was concerned, his time in the celluloid realm was over. All the fantasies about making great films for Hollywood studios were lost on him. That evening, after a few exhausting days on location in the red light district, co-starring some Amsterdam prostitutes, he just wanted to get drunk and go home.

Well, that’s the myth. Fact is that after the boozy encounter Martin Scorsese and the Delaparra/Verstappen couple did decid to team up. The Dutchmen had already made some progress with a plan to make a “Hitchcockian” thriller, aimed for the international market. They had their project, appropriately named Obsessions, more or less financed by German investors and had even managed to get Hitchcock’s composer Bernard Hermann interested, albeit with some help from French Nouvelle Vague film director François Truffaut. Especially the latter’s involvement intrigued the young American filmmaker.

To be true, Martin Scorsese, was a gift of God for the $corpio people. Having a good idea and fabricating some sort of a screenplay is one thing, writing the dialogues in proper English and creating convincing characters of flesh and blood, is quite another matter. On the 1st of June 1968 an agreement was signed, charging Martin Scorsese with:” writing and polishing of the dialogue, construction and polishing of plot and developing and improving of characterization, in fact all that is in the Writer’s power to improve the story-material and the first Master Scene Script ” .

However, that summer Martin Scorsese got an assignment with the University of New York to teach film production and moved back to the States, still determined to fulfill his contract with $corpio Films. But this was a time when e-mail was still science fiction and fax as an instrument of general communication, was 15 years away. A postal error almost jeopardized the cooperation, as instructions for the final review of the script failed to arrive at Scorsese’s new address in New York. There was no time to type it out, so all the corrections, suggestions, advices and approvals were inserted in handwriting, and the whole lot was send back to Amsterdam within 24 hours by express delivery, together with a lengthy handwritten letter to explain the “slip up” as Scorsese calls it.

This very personal document was eventually stored in a forgotten file. Forty years passed. And in the meantime the unknown writer became the living icon of American cinematography. Now that the script has been rediscovered, its fate depends on the highest bidder at the Christie’s auction in London. And then what?
If only Indiana Jones could turn up there to say: “This belongs in a museum!”.


By Frank Raskary