SCENE 46
INT. NEWT’S CASE—A MOMENT LATER—NIGHT
Jacob crashes down the steps of the case, colliding with various objects, instruments, and bottles as he goes.
He finds himself inside a small wooden shed containing a camp bed, tropical gear, and various tools hung up on the walls. Wooden cupboards contain rope, nets, and collecting jars. A very old typewriter, a pile of manuscripts, and a medieval bestiary sit on a desk. Potted plants line a shelf. Rows of pills and tablets, syringes and vials form a medicine chest, and tacked up on the walls are notes, maps, drawings, and a few moving photographs of extraordinary creatures. A dried carcass hangs from a hook. Several sacks of feed are resting against the wall.
NEWT
(glances at Jacob)
Will you sit down.
Jacob drops onto a crate hand labeled: MOONCALF PELLETS.
JACOB
That’s good.
Newt moves forward to examine the bite on Jacob’s neck—one quick glance:
NEWT
Ah, that’s definitely the Murtlap. You must be particularly susceptible. See, you’re a Muggle. So our physiologies are subtly different.
Newt busies himself at his workstation, using plants and the contents of various bottles to create a poultice, which he rapidly applies to Jacob’s neck.
JACOB
Ow . . .
NEWT
Now stay still. Now that should stop the sweating.
(handing him some pills)
And one of those should sort the twitch.
Jacob looks suspiciously at the pills in his hand. Finally, deciding he has nothing to lose, he swallows them.
ANGLE ON NEWT, who has now removed his waistcoat, undone his bow tie, and lowered his braces. He picks up a meat cleaver and hacks chunks of meat off a large carcass before tossing them into a bucket.
NEWT
(handing him the bucket)
Take that.
Jacob looks disgusted. Newt doesn’t notice, his attention now focused on a spiny cocoon, which he slowly begins to squeeze. As he does so, the cocoon emits a luminous venom, which Newt collects into a glass vial.
NEWT
(to the cocoon)
Come on . . .
JACOB
What you got there?
NEWT
Well, this—the locals call “Swooping Evil”—not the friendliest of names. It’s quite an agile fellow.
As if to demonstrate, Newt flicks the cocoon, which unravels, dangling elegantly from his finger.
NEWT
I’ve been studying him. And I am pretty sure his venom could be quite useful if properly diluted. Just to remove bad memories, you know.
Quite suddenly Newt throws the Swooping Evil toward Jacob. The creature bursts out from its cocoon—a bat-like, spiky, colorful creature—and howls in Jacob’s face before Newt recalls it. Jacob recoils dramatically, but this was evidently Newt’s idea of a little joke . . .
NEWT
(smiling to himself)
Probably shouldn’t let him loose in here, though.
Newt opens the door of his shed and walks through.
NEWT
Come on.
Jacob, now thoroughly startled, follows him out.
SCENE 47
INT. NEWT’S CASE, ANIMAL AREA—DAY
The perimeter of the leather case is dimly visible, but the place has swollen to the size of a small aircraft hangar. It contains what appears to be a safari park in miniature. Each of Newt’s creatures has its own perfect, magically realized habitat.
Jacob steps into this world, totally amazed.
Newt is standing in the nearest habitat—a slice of Arizona desert. This area contains a magnificent Thunderbird—a creature like a large albatross, its glorious wings shimmering with cloud- and sun-like patterns. One of its legs is rubbed raw and bloody—it has obviously been chained previously.
As the Thunderbird flaps its wings, its habitat fills with a torrential downpour, thunder, and lightning. Newt uses his wand to create a magical umbrella, shielding him from the rain.
NEWT
(eyes on the Thunderbird up high)
Come on—come on . . . Down you come . . . Come on.
Slowly the Thunderbird calms itself, lowering down to stand on a large rock in front of Newt. As it does, the rain dies down and is replaced by a brilliant, hot sunshine.
Newt puts his wand away and produces a handful of grubs from his pocket. The Thunderbird watches intently.
Newt strokes the Thunderbird with his free hand, calming him, affectionate.
NEWT
Oh, thank Paracelsus. If you’d have got out that could have been quite catastrophic.
(to Jacob)
You see, he’s the real reason I came to America. To bring Frank home.
Jacob, still staring, steps slowly forward. In reaction, the Thunderbird starts to flap his wings, agitated.
NEWT
(to Jacob)
No, sorry—stay there—he’s a wee bit sensitive to strangers.
(to the Thunderbird, calming)
Here you are—here you are.
(to Jacob)
He was trafficked, you see. I found him in Egypt, he was all chained up. Couldn’t leave him there, had to bring him back. I’m going to put you back where you belong, aren’t I, Frank. To the wilds of Arizona.
Newt, his face full of hope and expectation, hugs Frank’s head. Then, grinning, he casts the handful of grubs high into the air. Frank soars majestically upward after them, sunlight bursting from his wings.
Newt watches him fly with love and pride. Then he turns, puts his hands to his mouth, and roars, beast-like, toward another area of the case.
Newt moves past Jacob, grabbing the bucket of meat.
Jacob stumbles after him as several Doxys buzz around his head. Dazed, he swats them out of the way. Behind him a large dung beetle rolls a giant ball of dung.
We hear Newt roar loudly again. Jacob hurries toward the sound, finding Newt in a sandy, moonlit territory.
NEWT
(under his breath)
Ah—here they come.
JACOB
Here who comes?
NEWT
The Graphorns.
A large creature comes charging into sight: A Graphorn—built like a saber-toothed tiger but with slimy tentacles at its mouth. Jacob screams and tries to back off, but Newt grabs hold of his arm, stopping him.
NEWT
You’re all right. You’re all right.
The Graphorn moves closer to Newt.
NEWT
(stroking the Graphorn)
Hello, hello!
The Graphorn’s strange slimy tentacles rest on Newt’s shoulder, seeming to embrace him.
NEWT
So they’re the last breeding pair in existence. If I hadn’t managed to rescue them, that could have been the end of Graphorns—forever.
A younger Graphorn trots straight up to Jacob and begins licking his hand, circling him curiously. He stares down at it, then gently reaches out and strokes its head. Newt watches Jacob, pleased.
NEWT
All right.
Newt throws a piece of meat into the enclosure, which is hastily chased and consumed by the young Graphorn.
JACOB
So what, you—you rescue these creatures?
NEWT
Yes, that’s right. Rescue, nurture, and protect them, and I’m gently trying to educate my fellow wizards about them.
A tiny bright pink bird, the Fwooper, flies past and comes to rest on a little perch, suspended from midair.
Newt heads up a small ramp of stairs.
NEWT
(to Jacob)
Come on.
They enter a bamboo wood, ducking and diving through the trees. Newt calls out:
NEWT
Titus? Finn? Poppy, Marlow, Tom?
They emerge into a sunlit glade, Newt producing Pickett from his pocket and holding him perched on his hand.
NEWT
(to Jacob)
He had a cold. He needed some body warmth.
JACOB
Aw.
They move toward a small tree bathed in sunlight. At their approach, a clan of Bowtruckles chatters and rushes out of the leaves.
Newt extends his arm toward the tree, trying to persuade Pickett to rejoin the others. The Bowtruckles clack noisily when they see Pickett.
NEWT
Right, on you hop.
Pickett steadfastly refuses to leave Newt’s arm.
NEWT
(to Jacob)
See, he has some attachment issues.
(to Pickett)
Now, come on, Pickett. Pickett. No, they’re not going to bully you . . . Now, come on. Pickett!
Pickett clings by his spindly hands to one of Newt’s fingers, desperate not to return to the tree. Newt finally resigns himself.
NEWT
All right. But that is exactly why they accuse me of favoritism . . .
Newt puts Pickett onto his shoulder and turns. On seeing a large, round, empty nest, he looks concerned.
NEWT
(devastated)
I wonder where Dougal’s gone.
From within a nearby nest, we hear chirping sounds.
NEWT
All right, I’m coming . . . I’m coming, Mum’s here—Mum’s here.
Newt reaches into the nest and scoops up a baby Occamy.
NEWT
Ah—hello, you—let me take a look at you.
JACOB
I know these guys.
NEWT
New Occamy.
(to Jacob)
Your Occamy.
JACOB
What do you mean? My Occamy?
NEWT
Yes—do you want to . . . ?
Newt proffers the Occamy to Jacob.
JACOB
Oh wow . . . Yeah, sure. Okay . . . Ah-ha.
Jacob holds the newborn creature gently in his hands and stares. As he moves to stroke its head, the Occamy moves to nip him. Jacob starts backward.
NEWT
Ah no, sorry—don’t pet them. They learn to defend themselves early. See, their shells are made of silver so they’re incredibly valuable.
Newt feeds the other babies in the nest.
JACOB
Okay . . .
NEWT
Their nests tend to get ransacked by hunters.
Newt, delighted by Jacob’s interest in his creatures, takes back the baby Occamy, placing it in the nest.
JACOB
Thank you.
(croaky)
Mr. Scamander?
NEWT
Call me Newt.
JACOB
Newt . . . I don’t think I’m dreaming.
NEWT
(vaguely amused)
What gave it away?
JACOB
I ain’t got the brains to make this up.
Newt looks at Jacob, both intrigued and flattered.
NEWT
Actually, would you mind throwing some of those pellets in with the Mooncalves over there?
JACOB
Yeah, sure.
Jacob bends down and picks up the bucket of pellets.
NEWT
Just over there . . .
Newt grabs a nearby wheelbarrow and sets off farther into the case.
NEWT
(annoyed)
Bugger—Niffler’s gone. Of course he has, little bugger. Any chance to get his hands on something shiny.
As Jacob walks through the case, we see what appear to be golden “leaves” falling from a tiny tree, which move together en masse toward the camera. They swarm upward, mingling with Doxys, Glow Bugs, and Grindylows, which float through the air.
The camera pans up to reveal another magnificent creature, the Nundu—looking almost exactly like a lion, it has a large mane that bursts forth when it roars. It stands proudly on a large rock, roaring at the moon. Newt scatters food at its feet and purposefully moves on.
A Diricawl—a small, plump bird—waddles in the foreground, followed by its constantly Apparating chicks, as Jacob climbs up a steep grassy bank.
JACOB
(to himself)
What did you do today, Jacob? I was inside a suitcase.
At the top, Jacob finds a large moonlit rock face populated by little Mooncalves—shy, with huge eyes filling their whole faces.
JACOB
Hey! Oh, hello, fellas—all right—all right.
The Mooncalves jump and hop down the rocks toward Jacob, who finds himself suddenly surrounded by their friendly, hopeful faces.
JACOB
Take it easy—take it easy.
As he throws pellets, the Mooncalves bob eagerly up and down. Jacob visibly seems to be feeling better—he really likes this . . .
ANGLE ON NEWT, now cradling a luminescent creature with sprouting alien-like tendrils. He feeds the creature with a bottle, while carefully watching how Jacob handles the Mooncalves—he recognizes a kindred spirit.
JACOB
(still feeding the Mooncalves)
There you go, cutie. Ah, there it is.
A kind of icy cry echoes from nearby.
JACOB
(toward Newt)
Did you hear that?
But Newt is gone. Jacob turns to see a curtain billowing open, behind which is revealed a snowscape.
We push inward, toward a small, oleaginous black mass suspended in midair—an Obscurus. Jacob, intrigued, moves into the snowscape to get a closer look.
The mass continues to swirl, emitting a disturbed, restless energy. Jacob reaches out to touch it.
NEWT (O.S.)
(sharp)
Step back.
Jacob jumps.
JACOB
Jeez . . .
NEWT
Step back . . .
JACOB
What’s the matter with this?
NEWT
I said step away.
JACOB
What the hell is this thing?
NEWT
It’s an Obscurus.
Jacob looks at Newt, who is momentarily lost in a bad reverie. Newt turns abruptly away and heads back toward the hut, his tone colder, more efficient, no longer happy to play about in the case.
NEWT
I need to get going, find everyone who’s escaped before they get hurt.
The pair enters another forest, Newt plowing ahead, on a mission.
JACOB
Before they could get hurt.
NEWT
Yes, Mr. Kowalski. See, they’re currently in alien terrain, surrounded by millions of the most vicious creatures on the planet.
A beat.
Humans.
Newt stops once more, staring into a large savannah enclosure, which is empty of any beasts.
NEWT
So where would you say that a medium-sized creature that likes broad, open plains—trees—water holes—that kind of thing—where might she go?
JACOB
In New York City?
NEWT
Yes.
JACOB
Plains?
Jacob shrugs as he tries to think of somewhere.
JACOB
Ah—Central Park?
NEWT
And where is that exactly?
JACOB
Where is Central Park?
A beat.
JACOB
Well, look, I would come and show you, but don’t you think it’s kind of a double cross? The girls take us in—they make us hot cocoa . . .
NEWT
You do realize that when they see you’ve stopped sweating, they’ll Obliviate you in a heartbeat.
JACOB
What does “Bliviate” mean?
NEWT
It’ll be like you wake up and all memory of magic is gone.
JACOB
I won’t remember any of this?
He looks around. This world is extraordinary.
NEWT
No.
JACOB
All right, yeah—okay—I’ll help you.
NEWT
(picking up a bucket)
Come on, then.