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|Author:||machf [ Fri Dec 24, 2010 9:54 pm ]|
|Post subject:||Hammond voiceovers|
And just like the other list, this one has all the dialogue recorded by Sir Richard Attenborough as Hammond for Trespasser:
This text will play over the game's graphical opening sequence. It begins dispassionately, like a history lecture, but the final phrase has a sudden vehemence â€“ something bitter from Hammond's past.
[Anne: From the writings of John Hammond, founder and chief executive of the InGen Corporation.]
By 1989, International Genetic Technologies had succeeded in their design, to genetically recreate the dinosaurs. It was an unprecedented accomplishment, the pinnacle of 20th-century science, a work to rank with the work of Galileo, or Einstein
But it was not all so easy or so simple as it appeared. One seldom hears the true history of such events - what happened at the place where the world changed. How it began, what were the reasons, what was the cost.
These passages should be spoken with some seriousness â€“ Hammond is introducing a story of importance â€“ in a sense, he is giving testimony, speaking for the record.
My name is John Parker Hammond. I was born on March 14, 1928.
What follows is a record of certain events in which I took part, between the years 1980 and 1997, on an island I will call Site B.
Site B was not to be a theme park, but a research station. This was where we did the real work.
Almost like a fragment of ghostly voice, somewhere on the beach
â€¦the greatest discovery of the 20th centuryâ€¦
A Nobel Prize, or a financial empire awaits somewhere in a darkened room, in a dirty derelict building somewhere in the Pacific.
A forest this wild, this unknown, has not been seen by any human since the great hunters of the early Pliocene.
I can picture them moving cautiously through the dusty rooms in bulky biohazard gear, clutching rifles, poring over our records, reading our files.
The mysterious John Hammond - shady investor, multimillionaire, jovial mad scientist.
As she reaches the big monorail gate.
The technology, the real trick of it, is still in there. In a darkened room, in an empty building with a dirty floor, it waits. The flashpoint, the origin of Jurassic park.
The main laboratory and administrative buildings. This was where we made our discovery, where the real magic trick happened. When they come to dig up our secrets, they will come here.
The story of InGen
This set of lines lays out, in fragments, the history of InGen, and needs a brisk delivery, a sense of Hammond's excitement and pride at his accomplishments.
An idea brought me awake one morning in New York. I almost didn't write it down
Sunlight angled down through the dusty air of Norman's office. I leaned against a solid oak table as I outlined my plans for International Genetic Technologies.
It was the flowering of an ambition born 50 years ago â€“ 50 years of struggle come to this.
Isla Sorna. Costa Rica lay to the east, a quiet neighbor. To the west, open water and the shipping lanes of the Pacific.
The southern beach looked out over trackless ocean. Down past Peru, all the way to Antarctica.
A few weeks after we first landed, we went to the summit to put up a crude satellite link.
We went up by helicopter. Young technicians scrambled to set up the dish as the wind howled. High-speed uplinkâ€¦state of the art.
If we succeeded, the InGen technology would be historic. We were planning to conquer time's power over life, its power to extinguish and erase. It would change all of our lives, as profoundly, as irrevocably as the atomic bomb.
1982. Robert Muldoon I already knew. Dennis Nedry I found in Cambridge â€“ despite his idiosyncracies, he was years ahead of his competition.
In control room, dealing with Nedry's sabotaged computer
Dennis fancied himself quite the hacker. He had his own locks for his door. His office decorations were quite outside company regulations
Henry Wu's house
Henry Wu was an only child, from Ohio. A prodigy, he gained early attention for his undergraduate thesis at MIT.
3 Cray X-MP's moved more data, faster, than any computer center in the Americas.
In 11 months, Site B became the most powerful genetics facility in the world.
In a quiet, locked room, the extinction of species, the history of life on earth is being methodically reversed.
The first task was genetic recovery â€” acquiring Jurassic or Cretaceous amber, extracting preserved DNA, and reassembling the completed sequences. "Bringing it up the well," we called it.
At ruined plantation house gate
Line 027, Tape 01-08
I spared no expense, permitted no failures.
By 1985 we held 13 new patents.
I began to have my first inkling of the seriousness of our work â€“ how deep the well was. This was life from 65 or 100 million years before mankind.
November 1985. Test fertilization of an artificial ovum. My hands shook as I held the tiny eye dropper. One drop, two drops. There! The genie was out of the bottle.
The raptor took shape inside its egg. I watched it on the ultrasound monitor. It looked like a ghost, or a puff of smoke.
Near Town Wall
We released the first raptor on April 22, 1986. It wandered back and forth near the wall for four minutes and twenty-two seconds, before hearing a noise which drew it further off into the brush.
In the jungle, the forest, and the mountain three raptor tribes staked out territory. Albertosaurs and the seven T-rexes chose their dominions. Uneasy borders drawn around forests, ridges, and ponds.
Not all the original species survived. In the end, only a few adjusted to the new world. These became dominant.
A third tribe of raptors took the mountain for their territory. A leaner, tougher breed, quick, living on birds and tiny lizards.
On picking up a proximity detector
We tagged the most dangerous animals with radio collars that transmitted a warning signal. Workmen carried little boxes that played a tone when a tagged animal came nearâ€¦at which point the workers would panic and flee in terror.
By 1987, the first of them had reached full size. The ecosystem of another era began to reassert itself.
The raptor padded in towards sundown. It drank nervously, careful of the dangers of the Jurassic waterhole.
At sewer pipe
Several hours later, we discovered that it had come in through the sewage pipes.
Sighting of scarred, huge T-rex
For four months we had monitored it while it preyed on herds in the southern forest. We never knew why it grew so large. In the summer of 1988 it began moving north.
1988. Workers from the mainland were pouring concrete supports, for a rail system running north to the settlement.
Ruins at beach, once Anne recognizes them.
May, 1989. We began laying foundations on the south beach for a hotel for visiting scientists and businessmen. A year hence, I thought, the island would be quite famous.
Bankruptcy! I leaned against the wall. My whole body shook.
Broken InGen mug
I dropped the mug. It shattered. I let it lie there. We would be leaving soon anyway.
When it became known that I was bankrupt, workers simply dropped their tools and walked away.
uildings were stripped of anything valuable.
We sealed off the town, save for a few crucial gates â€” southward to the lowlands, eastward to the power plant and laboratory.
Near star map
Before we left, we sealed the Eastern Gate for the last time. Gazing from my study window, I hit on a simple mnemonic for the passcode.
Ripped-out control box on west side of gateway.
As we left we vandalized our own locking mechanisms. InGen tolerates no trespassers.
Technicians and workmen crowded the docks, fearing they might be left behind when the security ring collapsed. Armed guards stood watch.
Two German technicians were accused of conspiring to walk out with crucial research materials.
Briefcase with tools and a gun, found behind rusted hidden panel
They had planned to breach the main computer vault and remove some of the data stored there. No proof was ever found.
October, 1996. The InGen corporation is taken out of my hands, by a vote of the board of directors. My nephew dispatches his team.
The hunters landed on May 13, 1997, deep in the island's southwest. Most of them had worked at my African parks for years. They never stood a chance.
Near hunter camp
The InGen hunting party carried the passcodes for our perimeter fences.
At hunter camp â€” signs of chaos
The hunters scattered, their prearranged hunting routes forgotten. Only a third of their number appeared at the rendezvous.
Hushed, quick moments of intense sensory detail
These passages are spoken quietly and quickly, but somewhat dispassionately â€“ narrating an intense sensory memory as it comes.
In May the rains began. The smell of the jungle was everywhere.
Rusting metal rails and wood piled by the side of the tracks
As I journeyed south along the coast, the air grew moist and heavy. Metal and concrete lay rotting in the sun and rain.
1981. I stumbled out of the helicopter, already beginning to sweat, and looked around at the lush forest, the wet leaves.
Edge of cliff
I stood on the lip of the cliff, the wind blowing my hair. It might have been a morning in the early Jurassic.
The jungle canopy hung over us. There was an utter silence. Far away I could hear a jeep engine idling.
First sight of a series of giant pillars in the jungle
In the winter we began building the supports for an elevated transit system that would unify the island. Concrete towers rose through the jungle canopy.
The sky at noon was like nothing in Europe. Hot, tropical, a new world.
The forest smelled of wet leaves, damp earth, rotting wood.
Ruined building interior, water-damaged
Water seeped into everything.
As I write this, tiles are cracking, smeared with windblown dirt and animal tracks. Thick tree roots are pushing up through asphalt. The island settles itself, beginning to erase all trace of usâ€¦
On the plain the heat was extraordinary, like a solid wall.
Stepping into Forest
When I was little I dreamed of a time when the entire world was covered by an ancient first-growth forest. Great hunters stalked in the cool darkness, among silent, huge columnar trees - oaks, and sequoias.
A point by the roadside
I stepped out of the jeep and stretched my legs. The two guards attended to the wheel, and just for an instant I stood alone, unprotected in the Jurassic wilderness. I felt the air currents around me, heard a single tree rustle.
Pickup yellow crates in jeep
â€¦cameras, and seismic instruments in yellow crates. They set them in the dust as the helicopters rose.
The steam pipes hissed and spat. Water pumped deep into the earth came back superheated.
Chinese sailors singing in a curious keening falsetto as they unloaded the synthetic polymer eggs.
â€¦the smells of salt water and gasoline.
End of pier
Far out to sea we would sometimes glimpse the US Coast Guard units assigned to observe our activity.
It was strange to move from the field, the hot sun, dirt on one's trouser-cuffs, into the cool, sterile darkness of the lab.
The sharp tang of the preservative chemicals. The coolness and hush of the sterile chamber. The daily ritual of decontamination.
The centrifuge whirred night and day. The slow alchemy of genetic replication.
The clear fluid held a cloudy layer of DNA strands.
Keyboards rattled into the early morning. Ranks of green CRT screens displayed collated genetic data.
In computer lab
We worked long into the night. Feeling at times as if the whole of the earth had fallen away outside, leaving only the darkness, the work, the endless questing into the past.
Hammond as tour guide
Here it should sound literally as if Hammond is giving the player a walking tour of the island, and has opted to point out and describe some notable feature.
Near stone wall
A failed coffee plantation of the 1860's. Fields were marked out by stone walls. To the west, the ruins of the plantation house still stand.
Once through the gates
We took a shortcut south to reach the site -- west along the stream, until a tall tree shows itself, with a cluster of boulders at its base.
At the tall tree
Then walk northward, until the path appears.
The power station was situated on the western coast, residences were southeast and inland.
In front of Hammond's personal computer
Some of my personal papers had been transferred to diskette.
The Albertosaurs took to the open fields like lions to the Serengeti.
The battery would last at least 20 years and wear like iron.
The pylons ran for kilometers, one every hundred meters or so. I built them to last. Running east from the plant, they climbed the valley, before descending south into the plains.
A tank of greenish water, tinted by an algae-killing chemical, circulated through the massive cooling tower. This reservoir was filled from a pump in the valley, some ways away.
The main harbor for Site B.
The docks were the lifeblood of Site B. Amber, synthetic eggshell, and livestock came from all over the Pacific Rim.
The "Emily" was a tug for bringing in the bigger freighters. Occasionally we took it out to observe specimens from offshore, or to sweep the tide for traces of our operation.
It was scuttled in 1989, as a quarantine measure soon after I gave the government my testimony.
InGen Standard Safari Vehicle. State of the art.
On picking up a dart gun
Lindstradt air guns, by the way. Swedish-made. Unbeatable for accuracy and rate of fire.
InGen Reception. I had planned that someday visitors â€“ scientists and politicians - would be welcomed here.
Inside computer building
Site B was fully centralized and computer-controlled. The same design that became the Achilles heel of Jurassic Park.
Massive door to computer system
Diagnostics, communications, security all ran through the computer. Accordingly, computer security was paramount, the tightest on the island.
At electric fence marked by lightning-bolt
Left to itself, the facility reverts to minimal power â€” chiefly battery-powered security systems. It can sustain itself almost indefinitely.
Building the town was hard. Costa Rican contractors were competent people, but they had to be transported, fed, housed, and afterwards, bound to silence.
The biotechnicians were compensated for living in exile. High pay, luxury housing. Dennis wanted computer time, and money; Henry wanted his state of the art entertainments. These were the elite, who could have gone anywhere to work. I had to keep them here.
A passcode let us control access to the valley and the power station beyond.
Curving up out of the southern basin, the Atherton Causeway would bring visiting scientists north from the southern beach.
The buildings followed a scheme I only vaguely understood, marking seasons, the lunar year, and the movements of the starsâ€¦
A roster of the hunters from the InGen hunting party â€“ their names, descriptions, and fates. The list itself should be read clinically, dispassionately. The descriptions have a more conversational tone.
An ex-policeman from South Africa, a sort of soldier-of-fortune character.
Known as "The Maharajah" to his fellows, highly skilled but only works alone. He was meant to radio for pickup from the comm station.
Corpse found with Biosyn equipment
I was unable to find any records whatsoever on Michael Sullivan, beyond the sole fact that his flight to the rendezvous originated in Port-au-Prince, Haiti.
LaSalle was a disciple of Roland's. A sometime poacher, fancied himself a master hunter.
Marden, A. S.: still missing.
Karamcheti, V.: still missing.
Sullivan, R. M.: still missing.
LaSalle, P.: still missing.
Van Horn, S. T.: still missing.
Lystrata, A. L.: deceased.
A roster of the major dinosaurs of the island. Read as briefing someone â€“ throwing out a few quick details.
Albertosaur. A loner, fast and strong, eking out a living between the seven Tyrannosaur and the three raptor tribes.
Sighting of raptors
Velociraptor, a small theropod. Native to China and Mongolia. Pack-hunter, quite vicious, and quite intelligent.
First sight of brachiosaur
Brachiosaur - oldest of our re-creations by 50 million years. The only true Jurassic native.
One of the largest creatures ever to live, the brachiosaur moved like planets among the smaller species.
First sight of Tyrannosaur
Tyrannosaurus Rex. Tyrant lizard, they reigned for 25 million years. We grew 7 of them, the 7 rulers of the island.
Despite what we had been led to believe, the T-rex was not a scavenger after all. We clocked one at 50 kilometers an hour.
First sight of Triceratops
Triceratops. With the Tyrannosaur, one of the last dinosaurs to live naturally on our planet.
These passages narrate the moment of discovery, in which the genetic code was first retrieved â€“ the first true contact with the Jurassic past. Hammond's voice is low and excited.
It was in the last days of genetic recovery, and at this point nothing was certain. Was the DNA there? Could we bring it back, up the well?
By Coke machine in hallway
It was 3AM. The room was strewn with soda cans. For the hundredth time we ran the extraction sequence.
For a moment, sound fades in - the clatter of keyboards, people talking in low tones, the hum of hard drives - we are reliving a moment.
[whispered] Dennis? What are we looking at here?
All my life I had waited for something great, something extraordinary.
And right then it opened up. The code read true. The barrier of time was, for an instant, opened. Nedry and I stared into the monitor, straight back through 65 thousand centuries.
As Anne breaks the final puzzle, enters computer chamber
As Nedry typed, the world seemed to hold its breath. For a moment we stood at the turning point between two great planetary eras â€“ the million-year reign of man, and the age of the dinosaurs.
These lines are excerpts from a diary Hammond kept in his mid-twenties, and they have a vivid directness that contrasts starkly with all the rest of the text. Although they have an adolescent, self-indulgent quality, they should reflect an emotional pain that is sincerely felt. As with all the text, they should be pronounced simply, with a natural and understated feel.
Anne finds HAMMOND000's diary (Anne says,"1949. This stuff is way old!". After she has seen it, we begin to hear fragments of it â€“ the lines shown in italics.
[i]She would not answer me at first. I asked her again.[/i]
[i]Lord Darley's charity luncheon, a society event, Â£200 a place. A bit of a step up for me, socially. I was seated with a very pleasant young woman.[/i]
[i]I would gaze at her, at dinner parties, in moments when she was distracted.[/i]
[i]The hair on her upper lip. The way she exhaled after taking a drag from a cigarette.[/i]
[i]I stammered, I was not certain what I should say. She laughed, though, and seemed charmed. She asked me to call again tomorrow.[/i]
[i]At two AM I called again. She had not come home, nor did they know where she was. I didn't leave my name.[/i]
[i]She would not answer me at first. I asked her again. Partygoers glanced curiously in my direction. Candle light blurred in my vision.[/i]
[i]I will never forget this, and I will never forgive, I swear it. This is the last time.[/i]
These passages form a monologue. It begins conversationally, Hammond describing his legal downfall following the events of Jurassic Park. When he is asked to explain his actions, there is a break, and what comes to mind is the beauty of the woman he lost. He recalls it, then, describes the way in which his love for her drove him into his solitary ambition. The passage at the end should be spoken as if in a dream or trance. There is a strange, cold wonder to the realization.
I'm sure you've heard the rest of the story. On the television news, or in the tabloids.
In 1989, the park was nearly complete. Our investors demanded on-site approval. I, idiotically as it turned out, believed we were ready.
The debacle of August 27, 1989, is now quite well known. The legal consequences were as you may imagine rather extensive.
October 3, 1989. I sat on a wooden bench in the waiting room in Washington, DC. A government panel put me on the stand.
As my name was read out, the session-room went silent. I walked up the aisle toward the stand. I was being called to account. But I had no clear explanation to give.
Save thatâ€¦in her voice or her walk, there was a world of grace and sophistication that I knew I was forever barred from.
I gave myself over to the strange, lonely discipline of the market -- investment strategies and profit. I stood apart, master of codes and lost worlds, of heat and cold and the sleep of a hundred million years.
My work lies where I left it, if there is anyone brave enough and clever enough to take it and return â€“ the keys to time, perhaps the foundation of a new empire.
On the last day, I stood apart from the rest of them. The helicopters were setting down.
Before me the jungle spread out, and I saw that a savage, primal age had begun again.
As spoken to the pilot of his helicopter, when Hammond abandons the island.
Come on, son. Get us out of here.
These passages are all part of Hammond's account of his youth and rise to success.
I left home at 15, with the rather romantic idea of seeking my fortune. I remember the train ride south, in my best clothes, eating an apple. The entire world before me.
When I came to London I had neither fortune nor education nor connections. Nothing!
These passages have a more personable, conversational tone, and are often amused or . They vary in emotional emphasis though, and may require individual direction.
A lost world is a sort of scientific myth. An evolutionary scenario in which an ecosystem is isolated and preserved. The rest of the world changes, leaving a tiny, fragile pocket where ancient species survive.
American-made tranquilizer darts. The effects change with the target's body mass, temperament, and mood. I believe the phrase is, "Results may vary."
At ruined building foundation
Creation is an act of sheer will. Next time, it'll be flawless!
Doctor Wu's laboratory was a mystery to me. I never finished my schooling â€” I had a child's idea of science. Test tubes, explosions, and miracles.
Various places on the plains
Hunting dinosaurs is quite tricky business. I recommend helicopters, if you've got them.
We were neither the only covert business to thrive in Central America, nor the most dangerous.
Raptor on steps
The raptor preened itself, utterly confident of its right to be there. Absolutely no consciousness that it was not the sovereign ruler of this earth.
What if a mosquito sucked the blood of a dinosaur, one hundred million years ago. The insect is then covered in tree sap which, over millennia, becomes amber.
The insect is preserved, perfectly. But â€” you see, here's the clever part â€” wouldn't the dinosaur blood be preserved as well?
The blood holds DNA, a tiny spiral of genetic code. Abra cadabra!
At a Security keypad
I still believe Nedry left himself a backdoor â€” something about the hobbits or god knows what.
A short story of an adventurer who comes to grief, told in a conversational tone, as if in an interview.
Anne finds campsite in cave: floppy disks, a broken radio
I first met Harold Greenwood in 1992. He was an American, introduced to me as a former Green Beret. He asked a number of questions about the disposition of the InGen Technology.
Harry claimed to be a friend of my former son-in-law. I liked him â€” he was confident, dashing.
Anne finds opened security gate, with a box attached to the security monitor
Greenwood carried some sort of electronic device, which we are told he built himself, based on plans he found on the Internet.
I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said â€“ "two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desertâ€¦. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings,
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away."
Again, enjoy the read...
And thanks to tatu for this.
|Author:||Draconisaurus [ Wed Jan 05, 2011 4:10 am ]|
|Post subject:||Re: Hammond voiceovers|
Already read this and don't remember all my points of interest... But I was pleased to find out the philosophy behind the seemingly random numbers assigned to Hammond's voiceovers. I kinda suspect it may be common practice to do it like this; it seems ideal to let a voice actor get into a certain mood and tone of voice and then do several voiceovers that way.
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