Nobel Son (2007) - full transcript

The French essayist,
Michel de Montaigne, once said...

"I think there is more barbarity
in eating a man alive...

than in eating him dead. "

The wisdom of it.

When you're a kid
with an open soul...

they tell you the world
consists of good guys and bad guys.

I always liked the bad guys.

Scarface over Superman.

The psychology of depravity was far more
compelling to my Manichaean imagination...

than a portrait ofbenevolence.

The truth is, good and bad
are not so absolute.



As for me...

there are times I'd give a thumb
for a little benevolence.

You gave me a "D."
I don't get D's.

When you do "D" work, you get a "D."

We're fucking, Eli.

- What, you're fucking me for a good grade?
- No.

So I leave you with a question.

A northern California dairy farmer
murders three young girls...

performs sexual acts
with their dead bodies...

and then eats portions
of their fleshy thighs.

Is the dairy farmer crazy?

Fuck, yeah.

Let me give you a hint.
This is not a question...

that can be answered
with a "yes" or a "no" or a "fuck, yeah. "



Empty. Empty. Empty.

Did you even buy
a cup of coffee today?

Just out of curiosity,
how many days old...

is that raggedy cup
you keep filling with our free milk?

- Three.
- So I'm gonna have to confiscate your cup.

I'm enjoying this...
so much.

Three pages on my desk by Monday.

Thank you all.

Just a second, you.
Next time you're late for this class...

you're gonna trip on your way out
and break your shooting thumb.

You get me?

Right now I am stuck in a deep life rut here.
It's a grave... like trench.

You see, I'm trying
to finish my Ph. D. thesis...

and get by on a $35-a-week allowance
from my father, okay?

So as much as I would love
to spend the $4.40 on a...

Mocha Spin and a seeded baguette...

I am constantly reminded
of the words of Samuel Johnson...

Why would you give
your own lover a "D"?

Beth, I am disappointed that you
would expect preferential treatment.

It's bullshit, Eli.
It's bullshit.

You're punishing me.
You are.

You're punishing me for sleeping with you.

"There mark what ills
the scholar's life assail...

toil, envy, want,
the patron and the jail. "

- Hello. Speaking.
- The office got a call.

Seems as though your husband
won the Nobel Prize.

Well, that should cement his ego.

Hey, it's not every day
somebody wins the bowling trophy...

let alone the Nobel Prize.

Barkley Michaelson,
your father called.

He has just won the Nobel Prize.

Lucky fucking son of a bitch.

Congratulations.

Congratulations, Dr. Michaelson.
You rock.

Thank you. Thank you.

If anyone in this room
ever doubted my intellectual superiority...

or your great fortune
to be under my incomparable tutelage...

you can now formally
kiss my fine white ass.

- Congratulations, Eli.
- Congratulations, Eli.

Good job.

Well, Eli, I guess this proves
the Nobel's not a popularity contest.

And a good thing, Simon...

'cause if it were, you might actually have
a shot at winning.

- Hey, Ma.
- Hey.

- You look great.
- Thank you.

Is this tie all right?

Did someone forget to tell Dad
that this was a semi-formal affair?

He knew.

Anything to crystallize
his advantage, huh?

Where's the chow?

Everyone's very proud of you, Eli.

Well, it's a damn good thing
I won the Nobel...

because now you're gonna
find it hard as hell to fire me.

Oh, I never threatened
to fire you, Eli.

I'm a scientist, Harvey, and the empirical
evidence I'm looking at around here...

tells me no one loves me anymore.

I loved you.

Eli. Look, I'm a scientist too...

and my empirical
observations tell me...

that someone's gonna shoot you
long before I have to fire you.

Young lady... I'm closing my eyes.

Do you really think that little nymph
of a chemistry groupie...

is having an affair
with my ancient, tyrannical dad?

- Mom.
- No. Wait.

Nice of you to come, Beth.
Love the outfit.

Final exams are in two weeks.

If I don't get an "A,"
I'm gonna tell the whole world...

about my scandalous affair with you.

Unfortunately, it won't be the first
Nobel Prize winner with a sex scandal.

Yes, yes. Dr. Carleton Gajdusek
and his Micronesian boys.

I think he was in another league...
sexually, that is.

I'm so totally serious.

An "A" it is.
You earned it.

I like you like this, Beth.

You look naughty.

What I wouldn't do
to tear the clothes...

right off your gorgeous little body
right this very second.

When I get back from Stockholm.
Now, go on. Get out of here.

She feels like I'm abandoning the class
two weeks before their final exam...

which I am in effect doing
by going to Stockholm.

You see, Simon?
At least my students are fond of me.

I'd like to thank you all for coming tonight.
Some of you willingly.

Some of you in spite of yourselves.

Tomorrow I'm off
to claim my Nobel Prize.

Joining me will be my wife, Sarah...

who, I am certain...

has only been able to put up with my manias
and eccentricities all these years.

Because her definition
of "crazy" is so narrow.

Hell, she convinced a jury
that Jeffrey Dahmer wasn't crazy...

thus, of course, negating
his insanity defense...

and engineering
his terminal incarceration.

Sarah.

And we will be accompanied
by my one and only son, Barkley...

who has just about ensured that my work
in single... molecule spectroscopy...

will not have a natural heir.

With his summa cum laude degree
from Princeton under his belt...

he has instead turned
his scholarly attentions to cannibalism...

and the challenges of Gameboy.

Now he just has
to figure out how to make a living...

out of such rarefied expertise.

Barkley.

In 1975 when "Love Will
Keep Us Together"...

- Go on. I'll cover for you.
- Thanks.

Hey, good luck with that girl.
What was her name?

- Nice try, Mom.
- Hey.

Be there at 9:00.
The flight's 11:30.

And it was then that I realized...

that it was both possible
and necessary...

to observe the spectra
from single molecules...

in condensed phases.

Yes! Yes!
Damp with come.

I fell back onto the bench...

and suddenly I could understand
the woodpeckers.

- Has she read yet?
- No.

Tits! Tits, tits, tits!

Tits.

Thank you.

Hello. I'm City Hall.

Tonight I'm going to read
from my "Rat Boy" poems.

In the dark corners
of the more recessed cavities...

of Rat Boy's
small and wicked mind...

here is where the parasites of iniquity
gorge themselves.

You might think him a beast,
treat him as pariah.

You feign ignorance at insinuation.

But you know...

in the dark corners of the more recessed
cavities of your own little mind...

that your own fetid darkness...

seethes in its unique mental waste.

Hey. Um, do you
remember me? Barkley?

I introduced myself a few weeks ago.

That was just...
You're so...

- God... good.
- Thank you.

I am sometimes able to speak
in complete sentences.

There. That was one.

Suck my lips. Open yourself wide
to the great conquering me.

I'd love to talk to you sometime...

about your inspirations
or... whatever.

- Okay.
- Okay. Like we can talk now?

- Sure.
- Okay. Yeah.

I wish I could offer to buy you
a hamburger or something...

- but I don't have any money at all right...
- I'm a vegetarian.

That's a good thing,
especially if I ever have to eat you...

because vegetarians,
they taste better than carrion eaters.

You see, I'm doing my Ph. D.
thesis in anthropophagy...

- Cannibalism.
- Yeah.

- Everybody trivializes it, but there's a lot of...
- Who?

Some cruel, small-minded...

Republican parental figure?

He's a Democrat,
but the rest is accurate.

Your father.

I had a father.

He found my journals
when I was 15, and he burned them.

My poems. My thoughts.

My drawings.
Everything I was.

Incinerated.

Oh, my God. H...

- How did you ever look at him again?
- I didn't have to. He died.

"Love and pain become one and the same
in the eyes of a wounded child. "

"Hell is for Children. "
Pat Benatar?

My bike.

Shit.

I have a car.

- Halloween?
- Originally.

Now I just wear them
to freak people out at stoplights.

All right.

- A gift from me to you.
- No. It's too generous. I couldn't possibly accept.

Don't take that off!
I gave it to you.

You have to wear it.

- So you're really broke?
- Yes.

Prove it.
I wanna see your balance.

- You're kidding, right?
- No.

But you got to wear the mask.

- I gave it to you. Come on.
- This is crazy. What?

Crazy's just a choice, Barkley.

Okay, okay.

Hurry up, Barkley!
I'm hungry!

You didn't lie to me, Barkley.

Let's go back to my house.

We could order some moo shu.
I'll pay.

Do you have any idea
how talented you are?

Okay.

This is pretty, uh...

You don't taste so bad to me,
carnivore that you claim to be.

I promise you taste better.

Whoa!

Meet Marvel.
He's a thief.

- Who morphs into a cat by night?
- No.

He's a cat thief.

He steals anything you leave lying around,
and then you never see it again.

That would make me somewhat anxious.

Barkley.

Am I beautiful?

God, yes.

Don't hurt me.

I won't, City.
I promise.

- I have to go.
- No, no, no, no.

I have to go to Stockholm today.
I'll call you before I get on the plane, okay?

Or from the plane.
Or both.

Stay, stay, stay, stay.

Just touch me like you did last night.
Please, Barkley.

Okay, half hour.
Half hour I got to go.

I hope nothing's happened to him.

Nothing happened to him.
He probablyjust found a way to get laid.

This is so typical of that kid.

It's not typical of him.
He hasn't dated anyone since Meredith.

And that cost me $20,000
for a marriage that lasted three minutes.

They were married for over a year.

Ah, to hell with him. If he's going to be
this irresponsible, we're going without him.

Oh, Eli.

I got rid of all my wallpaper.

- I like it without the wallpaper.
- The thing is...

I found out that wallpaper glue...

promotes the growth
of microorganisms.

The place looks terrific, George.

I like it. And the flowering plants,
they really cheer the place up.

I'm living with pollen.

I'm so...
The limo's here, and we're off now.

I'll water the plants...

tend to the garbage...

and I'll make sure
that the outside lights are out.

- Okay.
- And I'll make you a detailed report.

Oh, thank you, George.

Could you just do me
one other small favor?

What was that favor?

If you see Barkley, could you tell him
that his tickets are on the table...

by the phone in the kitchen?

But isn't he coming with you?

Well, we can't seem to locate him.
I'm sure he's gonna be home any minute.

He can take the car
and drive it to the airport.

He can park it there.
Tell him I'll pay for the parking. Okay?

Look, I'll look...
I'll look out for him.

- Okay. Thank you.
- But I usually hear him come in with his bicycle.

Because when he hangs it
on those hooks, the whole floor shakes.

- Okay. Thank you, George.
- I have to leave in 74 minutes.

- Okay...
- Sarah. Sarah.

What if I don't hear him?

Ah, shit.

Shoes. Shoes.

Pasadena. City Cab.

Taxi! We got to go now.

Ten.

Keep the change.

Mom? Dad?

Hello!

Hey, you've reached
the Michaelsons. Leave it at the beep.

Barkley, this is City.

I already know you're not gonna call me
like you promised because I know you're a liar.

You swore you didn't
have any money last night...

and yet, you hired a cab
this morning.

I saw it, Barkley, from my window.

If you lied about that,
you probably lied about everything...

and I just wanna end it right now.

I won't be hanging around, okay?
Good-bye, Barkley.

Hey, you've reached the Michaelsons.
Leave it at the beep.

You're laughing.

I can hear it in your voice.
You've lost your shadow, Barkley, your soul.

That's how you can be such a monster
to me now and feel nothing.

Hey, you've reached the...

Enough! Will you shut
the fuck up already!

Barkley, this is your father,
and I'm angry.

I just hope that whatever you're getting out
of your invidious behavior...

- is worth it.
- Oh, you're angry.

Well, fuck you, Eli.
I'm angrier.

And my invidious behavior
is going to be well worth it.

Shh.

George Gastner...

reformed obsessive-compulsive...

now faces a great
personal challenge.

You can do it, George. You can do it.

Forget Barkley.
Forget his worried mother.

Get in your non-polluting electric car
and go to work.

Bravo, George.
Bravo.

All those years
at the Billingsworth Psychiatric Hospital...

must have really paid off.

If it's busy, then he's there.

Damn it, Eli.
I told you we needed call waiting.

- We really should be boarding, Mr. Michaelson.
- Doctor.

Ms. Sighvatsson
is politely hinting...

that the plane is leaving.

And I, for one,
would like to be on it.

Hello.

Dr. Michaelson...

the captain would like to say
how very pleased he is...

to have you on board, sir.

Because I won the Nobel Prize...

or because I inspire
his latent homoerotic wet dreams?

I'm so sorry.

You see, the genius part
of his brain is so big...

that it's just swallowed up
the civilized part of his brain...

causing this monstrous
antisocial behavior.

Take me to my captain.

He can tell me in person.

Please take your seat, sir.

The seat belt sign is illuminated.

Congratulations on your award.

Hey, buddy.

I can't understand what you're saying.

What?

The phone's traceable to a house
about four miles from here.

Damn I'm good.

I hope you like oranges.
There's a tree out back.

We got lots of oranges.

Ooh.

Nice try. Here.

You got to...
You got to dive for it.

Dive for it.

Hello.
Dr. Eli Michaelson, please.

Please help! Help me, somebody!
Help me, please!

- Hey.
- Help me, please!

Could you hold on a second?

Hey! Help me!
Somebody help me, please!

Don't do that again.

The press interview is at 4:00...

and it's being held
at the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences.

And then we're going
to a reception at the Swedish Academy...

and then cocktails
at the Royal Swedish Academy.

- And then we're expected for dinner...
- Fine. Fine. Drag us wherever.

I just have one question.

Who pays for the stuff
in the little fridge here?

Me or the apologetic
inventor of dynamite?

Eli Michaelson, Nobel laureate.

Hello.
I have your son, Doctor.

He will only survive
if I receive two million unmarked bills.

Oh, bull. Cut the shit, Barkley,
and get your ass on a plane to Sweden.

- I wanted to talk to him.
- Sorry.

Well, if we're going to be prompt,
we'd best get a move on.

He hung up.

I need your thumb.

- What?
- We send him your thumb.

- He'll understand the magnitude of the situation.
- No.

No. No.

The thumb. No.

That's the opposable digit.

It's not just a finger.
It's what separates man from beast.

No! No, please!

Please. Look, I'm begging you.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Hey. No. Look, look, look.
Let me call him. Let me call him.

He's my dad.
He'll listen to me.

My dad's a bastard, but he'll listen to me.
Let me talk to my dad. Please.

He's an asshole. He is.
But he'll listen. Please, let me call him.

I'll let him know how serious this is,
how serious you are. I will.

What is that?

- Hello.
- Dad! Dad! Do not hang up.

Oh, much better without
the voice modulator.

No, that wasn't me.
That was...

my kidnapper.

Please, just listen to me, okay?

I am being held hostage
by a very brutal man...

who's going to cut off my thumb
and kill me...

if you do not agree
to his terms, okay?

Dad, I'm in trouble.

Trouble? You bet.

Do you realize
how much I'm gonna have to pay...

to change what was supposed
to be a free ticket to Stockholm?

I'm scared.

Stop fucking with me
and get your ass on a plane.

A.S.A.P.

What are you doing in church?

- Is Mom there? I wanna talk to Mom.
- What are you...

Dad? Dad.

Thumb time?

- That was Barkley, wasn't it?
- He's on his way.

- Hopefully, he'll make it in time.
- He's really on his way?

He sends his love to you, Sarah.

What was he doing in church?

What kind of father treats
his own flesh and blood like that?

Oh, he's a bad one.
Now that he's got the Nobel Prize...

- he's only gonna be worse.
- The Nobel Prize he does not deserve.

Oh, yeah. Yeah, I know. I'm sure there's
all kinds of more worthy candidates.

No! It was not
his technique. He stole it.

He probably did.
You know, he is a scumbag.

Who did he steal it from?

- Harriman James.
- Who?

Dear friend of your father's.
He's dead.

Harriman James was my father.

Sorry.

I am.

- I know what a shit my father can be.
- You have no idea.

You have no idea what a shit he is.

Fuck.

Janet Polanyi, Cal-Sci undergrad.
September 2005.

Rema Lahmani, professor of geobiology.
January 2006.

Heather Phillips?
She's in administration.

No.

Beth Chapman.
That was taken three weeks ago.

That man is a beast.

That was my mother.

She was married to Harriman James
at the time.

He was a grad student
in chemistry at Harvard...

who had a radical notion
that one could use laser excitation...

with wide-field microscopy...

in order to observe fluorescence emission
in a single molecule.

This is Harriman's lab book,
September '72.

Pages nine through 16.

The genesis of single-molecule
spectroscopy?

Yeah.

Harriman James and Eli Michaelson
were best friends.

So my father and your mother,
they had an affair?

When my mother got pregnant...

Harriman James killed himself.

See, he knew he was sterile.

- Does my father know this?
- Of course he knows it.

- Do you know him? Have you met him?
- No.

Wait. So you're my...
brother.

Half brother.

What's your name?

Thaddeus...

James.

Look, I understand where
you're coming from, Thaddeus...

and I even think that you're,
I mean, somewhat justified.

Taking his Nobel Prize money.

That seems like
the appropriate way...

to avenge the memory of your fath...
Thad... uh, Harriman. Harriman James.

You know what? Better yet, let the world
know who rightfully deserves the credit.

- Right?
- Yeah. Yeah.

All in good time, Barkley.

- But now I'm gonna need your thumb.
- Thaddeus, we're brothers.

- No. We're half brothers.
- Please, no, hey!

I wanna work with you on this.
I am on your side.

Together. Partners.
Don't. Don't. Don't take my thumb!

God.

I bet the king farts
in the privacy of his own limo.

And a lot of other places
if he eats like that every night.

I bet he has a manservant...

whose sole responsibility
is to take the blame for the king's farts.

What's this?

That came for Mrs. Michaelson
this afternoon, Doctor.

Really? I'm not expecting anything.

Well, open it.
The Unabomber is in jail.

You open it.

Hello.

Oh, my God.

Oh, yes.
This is subtle.

I talked to Johannson in Stockholm.

They're not gonna release the thumb
until they've run their own tests.

- How long will that be?
- I don't know.

You might wanna find
a new hiding place.

Under the flowerpot's too easy.

- We've hid it there for 20 years.
- Okay.

So you've been lucky
for 20 years, Eli...

and your luck just ran out.

It was 10:15 when I went.
I was already late.

I have to leave the house
at 10:09 to get to work.

I waited.
I waited until 10:15.

I usually leave at 10:09.

I thought they said no cops.

- Sir, do you have call waiting?
- No!

Just a question.

- Detective.
- Relyea.

We checked every operating church
in San Gabriel Valley and came up empty.

- Sorry, ma'am.
- Bill, we gotta go through these leads.

I've been over
and over this in my head.

I'm sure that's what he said. He was going
to Equator Books to meet a girl.

Her name is...
Capitol Hill or something.

Let's try the Equator Books thing.

I didn't hear the bicycle.
I didn't hear him come in.

I listened, Sarah.
I listened.

Let me make you something to eat.
You haven't eaten all day.

Max, I'm not hungry.

The smell of Max Mariner's world-famous
scrambled eggs and burnt toast...

will make you hungry.

Does it have to be burnt?

For you, I'll make an exception.

- You're a good guy, Max.
- No.

Not to everyone.
But I'm crazy about you.

Sorry.

But I would be worried.

The thumb and, you know,
the violence of the act.

But it's a real possibility
that it's not Barkley's thumb at all.

There were four thumb-related
crimes in the L.A. area...

in the last three weeks.

Huh.

I hope it is his thumb.

If it's somebody else's thumb...

then this kidnapper is
a calculating psychopath.

He's thinking it through
step by step.

And he doesn't wanna deal
with a suffering, hysterical captive.

So he very rationally went out...

and amputated someone's thumb...

some random victim.

Made his life a whole lot easier.

On the other hand...

if it is Barkley's thumb...

then they're sloppy.

And they are holed up somewhere...

with my very bloody, hysterical son.

And his anguish...

and his...
profuse bleeding...

are making them crazy...

and they are gonna be
a whole lot easier...

to find or thwart or...

or something.

And Barkley will
never be good at golf.

Requires thumbs.

I lay there in a bath
of my own excrement...

inhaling the pungent aroma...

the smell of life's bottom line.

The morning light bled
through the angry slats.

I feel like I need a shower.

Powerful, isn't it?

Capitol Hill.

Does that name ring a bell?

There's a City Hall who sometimes reads.

- Provides to the craven and needy.
- Do you recognize this guy?

Oh, yes.
That's Barkley Michaelson.

That's his table.

He sits there day after day...

playing with his, uh, Gameboy
and daydreaming about cannibals.

- Cannibals?
- Yes. His thesis.

Strange chap, you know.

I tell him that his father has won the Nobel
Prize, and do you know what he says?

"That lucky fucking son of a bitch. "
Can you believe that?

Yeah. Well, you'd believe that
if you ever met his father.

Anything else?

Um, there's a bike, yes.

It's been out there for days now.
I think it's his.

- Thank you.
- Me?

Excuse me.

Hello. My name is Clifford...

any my poem today is called
"Death by Drano. "

Byron was four
when he took his first sip.

- There's maybe, like, 75 ahead of you.
- Decaf, nonfat...

no foam, extra hot latte...

and a box of Krispy Kremes.

- Do I look cheap to you?
- Cheap? I spent 8.83 on that.

All right.
What do you need?

She goes by City Hall.
It's got to be an alias or something.

You think?

Merry fucking Christmas.

I got something under the tree
for you, asshole.

Santa's got a raging hard-on
for you, baby.

Why don't you take
my Yule log up your chimney?

Suck my North Pole, baby. You looking
at me, asshole? Merry Christmas.

Fuck off, asswipe.
Come on and sit on Santa's lap.

Naughty little girls make
my St. Nick stand at attention.

Ho! Ho! Ho!
Hey, you bald motherfucker.

What are you looking at,
shithead? Shithead. Shithead.

Shithead.
Shithead. Shithead.

Let's do a two-way. This Claus
likes it nasty. Suck my reindeer dick.

Bend over and let me
fill your sock with my stuffing.

Have a great holiday season.

Hello.

- Hi, Sarah.
- Oh, hi, Meg.

I can't talk right now.

- Hello.
- Listen to me carefully.

I'm only gonna say it once.

You are to put two million
in unmarked, untraceable bills...

in the trunk
of the red Mini Cooper...

in the atrium of the Puente Hills mall
on Sunday morning...

at precisely 9:00 a. m.

You are then to go straight home
and wait for instructions...

on where to collect
your whining, miserable son.

I see any cops,
the deal's off and Barkley's dead.

- I need to talk to him before I deal with you.
- He's fine.

I wanna talk to him.
I wanna talk to my son.

- Mom?
- Barkley!

Get me out of this.
Get me out of here, Mom.

Got it.

We're going to.
Barkley!

I sent your parents
a severed human thumb.

You sent my parents a thumb?

Well, did you really think
we'd get their undivided attention...

with just a picture of you
holding a newspaper?

Whose thumb?

Look, if I had actually
cut off your thumb...

you would've been bloody.

You would've been hysterical and
completely useless to me as a partner.

It's okay to eat the dead
but not to amputate a finger?

Confusing set of rules
you live by, Barkley.

- I'm going to hell for this.
- "Hell is for Children. "

- What?
- Pat Benatar.

If they let us trace them,
then they're sloppy. Let's go, guys.

- What exactly does that mean?
- Barkley lost his thumb.

I thought we already knew that.

So here's how it's gonna go. While
your father is pacing in his living room...

wondering iflife
is better without you...

Pasadena's finest will
storm the wrong house.

All right. Stay down!

We've, uh, made a mistake.

Meanwhile, at the mall...

Goddamn it.

I told them, no merchandise deliveries
until we finish the framing.

What am I gonna do
with all this shit?

Construction crew
is just looking forward...

to a few Saturday night
brews with the boys...

and Sunday off with the kids.

No, no, no.
I got this, fellas.

The Mini was lowered
into the Atrium by helicopter.

...while the police devise an offensive
so as not to be humiliated.

From where it sits,
there's no driving it out of there.

There's no access and no doorway
that's wide enough to drive through.

At exactly 7:45 a. m., the southwest doors
will open for employees only.

That leaves me with approximately
one hour to rebuild the car.

No. I got nothing.

Under no circumstances do we reveal
ourselves as officers of the law.

Barkley Michaelson's life depends
upon our precision and restraint.

What's he doing?

The fuck if I know.

Hey! No! Go get her.

- I'm delivering it.
- Wai...

Wait a minute, Sarah.

Do you really feel comfortable
carrying it across a mall...

and leaving it in the trunk of a car that
thousands of people are tossing raffle tickets into?

It's everything we have, Sarah.

It is not everything we have.
We have our son...

who we love more than
any amount of money in the world.

- There are no alternatives, Eli.
- Sarah...

Damn it.

I'll tell you.

It's lonely at the top.

Sir?

You're lucky you're not a genius.

If we get your son back alive,
Dr. Michaelson, we're all geniuses.

At exactly 9:00 a. m...

you will join the other 200
screaming families as they enter...

and try to be the first 100
to receive their free MP3s.

Once the drop is made,
let the fun begin.

How could that be?

Sir, it's driving away.

It's a trap.
What are they do...

I think it's going
to the northwest entrance.

We got him.
There's no way out.

Who is "he" if nobody's
driving the car?

Slow down! No!

I fixed the fluorescents.

They were flickering.

Back, back, back, back, back. Okay.

We got him.

Sir, you're gonna wanna see this.

It's all there.

One million dollars apiece.

Holy shit, that's a lot
of fuckin' money!

This is definitely one of the high points
of my entire life. Really.

I mean, this ranks higher
than my first blow job by Eileen Salzer.

She was the redheaded tuba player
in the 10th grade band.

Higher than my first car.

Higher than my second blow job. But that
doesn't really count, 'cause my mom walked in...

Does it rank higher than your wedding
to the blue-eyed Russian studies major...

Meredith Ma-a-a-s?

- How the fuck did you know about Meredith?
- I just know.

- What the fuck do you know?
- I know...

that you couldn't get it up,
so basically she went shopping elsewhere.

That covers it, right?

Huh?

- Brothers shouldn't have secrets, Barkley.
- Fuck you!

God!

"Fuck you. Fuck you. "

I'm taking my money,
and I'm going home.

Oh, you go home.

I'll kill you first.

Oh, you'd kill me?

But you wouldn't eat me.

Would ya?

- Where'd you get the car?
- Same place I got the last one.

Church. Sunday Mass,
everyone's busy praying.

- You stole it?
- You make it sound like it's a crime.

Come on.

Howdy.

So...

- Swallow it.
- What?

When they pick you up,
they're gonna search every inch of you.

Just swallow it
and wait for it to poop itself out.

Fuck you.

Either you swallow it
and go on stool patrol...

or I'm gonna shove it
up your ass for you.

Your choice.

You spend a dime of that money...

they'll track you down faster
than you can digest milk.

I don't think we should talk to each other
again for at least two years... if ever.

Can't say I'll miss you.

It's been interesting
having a brother.

I never needed a brother.
I needed a father.

Trust me.
You're better off without Eli.

My mother hated me
because I reminded her of him.

Okay. Well...

Yeah.

What the...

You don't want 'em to think
you faked the kidnapping, do ya?

Whoa.

I'm Kelly Lange, and I'm standing in front
of the home of Dr. Eli Michaelson...

who was just awarded
the Nobel Prize in chemistry.

Now, it has been a week
of highs and lows for the Nobel laureate...

who had to cut short his celebrations
with the king and queen of Sweden...

to come back here and face
the iniquitous kidnapping of his only son.

First you lose my money,
which is supposed to lead us to Barkley...

then there's no word from Barkley,
who might very well be dead...

and now I can't even leave the house
because there's a media zoo outside.

Who informed them?

Hello?

This is Kelly Lange from KLPK.

Ms. Lange,
are you standing in front of my house?

I am indeed.

Sarah, put the gun down.

I think I have Mrs. Michaelson
on the line now.

She's the mother of the boy who was
kidnapped, and we're told that she was very...

- Ms. Lange.
- Yes?

I have a handgun
pointed at your head.

If you don't get the fuck...

off my lawn right now,
I'm gonna use it.

Look! She's got a gun!

If we had call waiting,
it would be another story.

Hello?

Your mother and I would very much
like you to go to the hospital.

- We'd just like to make sure nothing's broken.
- No. I want to go home.

Okay. Okay. We're going home.

Oh, God. I'm so happy
to have you back.

I'm happy to see you too, Mom.

Why does he have both thumbs?

Eli, would you have felt better
about the two million dollars if he lost one?

Lose the edge, Sarah,
and explain to me...

whose thumb was sent to us in Stockholm
if Barkley has both of his.

They threatened to cut off my thumb.

How many of them were there?

Two.

Can you describe 'em?

They had this thing over my head.

Burlap sack.
It was dark.

I was thirsty, and they gave me water.
I couldn't even swallow it.

So, tell me, Barkley.
What was City Hall's role in all this?

City?

She didn't have anything to do with it.
She probably hates me right now.

Can we just do this tomorrow, Max?

We're never gonna catch these guys anyway.
I'm sure they're long gone by now.

Gone where?

How would I know? It's not like they discussed
their travel plans with me. Look at me.

See?

Oh, I hadn't...

So, tell me.

Do you even know City's real name?

Yeah. Sharon Hall.

Please, don't involve her, Max.

She's really sensitive.

And she's furious with me.
I promised I'd call her, and I didn't...

'cause I fucking got kidnapped.

- Please, will you promise me?
- You were kidnapped outside City's house, right?

No. Here.

Here?

Bill, we gotta bring in
the forensics crew right now.

- Here? Why?
- We messed up.

Uh, Barkley was abducted
from this house...

probably right after
you took off for...

The kidnapper was in this house?

Don't tell me that key's back
under the flowerpot.

This is Sergeant Canepa.
Get me Forensics.

- 9.99.
- Viagra changed my life.

I work neighborhood patrol
for Westec in the San Gabriel Valley.

And I needed some cash...

to get a burger from Tommy's...
it's open all night.

Tell our audience.

Tell our audience
what happened next.

I was at the A.T.M.
on Colorado and Lake...

when I was attacked by a man
in a paper bag mask with a butcher knife...

who took all my money.

And my thumb.

What kind of... Paper bag mask?

A grocery bag with these...

stars for eyes and, uh...

like, big carpet eyebrows...

and this big, bulbous red nose.

Barkley.

The kind you'd make in summer camp.

Barkley? Honey,
is everything all right?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.
I'm fine.

How is Barkley?

Honestly, he looks like shit.

Well, if there's anything Pam and I can do,
don't hesitate.

My son Ethan, who's at Oxford now
teaching linguistics...

read about it in the London Times.

He's terribly upset
for Barkley.

Remember how they used to play
together when they were little boys?

And remember when they were hauled in for
riding their bikes in the Thompson Koi Pond?

Slow Ethan's teaching
linguistics at Oxford?

Dr. Michaelson, I'm so sorry.

Thank you.

- Look at that.
- Come on, come on, come on.

Sharks and vermin.

- These are nice.
- I was so cruel.

I left those savage
messages on his machine.

I was so hurt when he didn't call.

He promised to call.

And then when he didn't call,
I wanted to hurt him because...

I was so hurt.

He would have called.

Don't you think, Detective?

Uh, yeah.

Yeah, probably.

- He liked me, didn't he?
- Oh, yeah.

He liked my mind.

My art.

Oh, my God.
He liked my breasts.

Uh, did you and Barkley plan to have
a date on the night of December 8?

No. His bike was stolen from the Equator
and he needed a ride home.

Stolen, huh?

- And did you take him home?
- No.

It was like we kissed...

and suddenly we were consumed...

by this raging...

fire of passion...

that just obliterated...

the entire world around us and...

the hunger and...

thirst and desire
that we felt for each other.

Right. Right.
And then afterwards...

It was in the morning then
that you brought him home.

That's the weird thing.

- What?
- He took a cab.

Why is that weird?

If he had no money at all
the night before...

where'd he get the money
for the cab?

I'm really sorry to bother you, Miss Hall.

Thank you very much
for taking the time.

City Hall original.

Do you think she had something to do
with the kidnapping?

It's pretty psychotic.

But I'll tell ya.
It's not nearly as fucked-up...

as the shit I saw at the poetry
reading at Equator Books.

"Rats live on no evil star. "

That's Anne Sexton's epitaph.

It's a palindrome.

It is indeed.

I'll have the chicken salad.

It's on the house today,
Dr. Michaelson.

After all you've been through,
it's the least we could do.

Then I'll have the T-bone, rare.
Thank you.

- He's coming to sit with us.
- Slide that chair away.

Give him a break, will ya?
Guy's been to hell and back.

Eli. Let me buy you lunch.

Ruby got it already.
How about I take you up on it tomorrow?

I saw all the reporters out
in the courtyard just now.

Any more of that publicity
and you will be ensured a place...

on the lucrative lecture circuit.

You'd think the Nobel Prize alone would
ensure you that kind of notoriety. I...

The snails are eating my basil.

Look at... Scarred leaves.

A week ago, these leaves...

were plump, moist, unblemished.

So, you never heard anything.

I was listening for the bicycle.

But you never heard
a struggle or anything like that.

I wasn't listening for a struggle.
If I was listening for a struggle...

then I would have heard
the struggle.

- Maybe I didn't hear it.
- Right.

I have to kill 'em.

Who?

The snails.
They have to die.

Just a minute.

Hey.

You told City Hall
your bike was stolen.

It was stolen.

Your bike's in the garage.

I brought it home
from Equator Books myself.

No, I'm telling you it was stolen.

Well, I'm telling you...

you wouldn't be the first guy that told
a white lie to get a girl into the sack.

Max, I asked you to leave her alone.

Hey. She's crazy about you.

She cried, carried on
when she heard what happened.

So I wouldn't worry about it.

Unless there's somethin'
to be worried about.

Yeah, I remember.

Kid's only got a 20.

I don't got no singles.
I gotta count out 14 bucks of coins.

He's anxious, jumpy and shit.

I keep losing count.

George Gastner?

If he didn't have
the bicycle with him...

I was listening for the wrong thing.

George Gastner...

formerly of Billingsworth
Psychiatric Hospital...

by way of Cheski-Vacuri
Psychiatric Hospital...

with a brief stint in
the Fraser Scott Psych Ward?

You're not here
about the bicycle, are you?

City.

I thought you weren't gonna show.

- Sorry.
- Me too.

I want to fuck you so bad.

Ho, ho. I was hoping you'd
say something like that.

But...

I can't.

No. We'll go somewhere.

I'm with someone else now.

What?

Why did you even come here then?

I wanted to say I'm sorry.

Barkley.

What?

Why didn't I see this coming?

It's right this way.

It's the, um, fireplace
and kitchen...

and, uh, bath.

Uh, I wasn't gonna
rent it out so soon after...

but we really do need
the money right now.

He seems like a nice young man.

Solid, works in used cars.

Cool.

And maybe you should offer
to help him unload.

He seems to have it
all under control.

Well, Barkley,
that's not very welcoming.

It's just, uh, my back's
been spasming all day.

It still hurts from when I was kidnapped,
so I really don't think I can help him.

You know, I did tell him about George's
suicide, but it didn't seem to bother him.

Yeah. Some people
are just practical.

He has a lovely girlfriend
that lives in town. She's there.

Barkley! Oh, my God!

Um, I'm okay.

Cute couple.

- You think so?
- Yeah.

Yes.

It seems to have
hit its stride, really...

with all these options for making
quantum dots biocompatible...

therefore allowing
individual molecules...

to be traced in living cells.

And you sell used cars for a living?

I was a chemistry major
at Ohio State, but...

I didn't...

I didn't have the funds
to finish my degree, so...

Yeah. Now I'm in cars.

But you seem
to have knowledge that...

far exceeds the reaches
of undergraduate chemistry.

Thaddeus is like a star.

His brilliance is baffled...

by the congesting circumstance
of impeding planets.

Sharon is a poet.

But I'm a bit of an autodidact,
which I gotta tell ya...

is one of the reasons I was very excited
when I learned my new landlord...

was Dr. Eli Michaelson.

Barkley doesn't even know...

how big a single molecule is.

Do you, Barkley?

Yes.

Generally.

Well...

obviously it depends
on the structure...

and the number of atoms
in the molecule.

On the small end of the range, it's of the
same order as the bond lengths, Barkley.

Typically...

one to two angstroms.

Good boy.

Why don't you come visit me
at the lab sometime?

I think you'll find it enlightening.

Are you serious?

That would be great.

What the fuck are you doing, man?

- That is a great man.
- What?

I could have made him so proud.

I would have followed
in his footsteps...

worked by his side.

- Carried on his life's work.
- Thaddeus, this isn't part of the plan. Leave.

He would have loved me
like a father should love a son.

Sorry, Bro.
I'm not going anywhere.

I'm gonna...

"Leave. "

Maybe you should leave.

Hurry up. I'm hungry.

Hurry up, Barkley.
I'm hungry.

Hurry up, Barkley.
I'm hungry.

Yeah.

Hello. Good morning, Doctor.

Yeah.

- Look at this.
- No. Actually, why don't you sit there?

Doctor.

- This is a treat. Thank you, Thaddeus.
- It's my pleasure, Doctor.

Call me Eli.

I'd love the recipe.

- Unless it's a family secret.
- I like to think of us as family.

Does that include me?

Going somewhere?

It seems...

that you visited a cash machine
on the night in question.

Look...

I had one 20,
and I took it from City's wallet.

Because you found out
you only had $2.57 in your account.

I checked the bank records.

You're saying that
you stole 20 from City?

- I didn't steal it. I left an I.O.U.
- She never said...

anything to me about an I.O.U.

You know her cat?

She's got this cat. It's a thief.

- That's funny.
- What's funny?

A certain Wil Cavalere was assaulted
at an A.T.M. on the same night.

His attacker arrived
wearing a paper bag mask...

and departed with
Wil Cavalere's thumb.

- So?
- Bits of a paper bag and pieces of a bulbous nose...

were found in the middle
of the living room fireplace...

bearing traces
of Mr. Cavalere's blood.

There was a fire going on in the fireplace
when I got home that morning.

- I told you this before, Max.
- Oh, God!

I mean... Look at me.

You don't think that
I'm actually capable... What...

It sounds like a tall tale to me.

Look...

your red Doc Martens...

turned up with traces
of Wil Cavalere's blood.

- I lost those shoes.
- When?

That night.
That night at her apartment.

- That's funny.
- What's funny?

We found those shoes
in your closet...

in a shoe box...

buried in the back.

How can that be?

Barkley, honey, we need to talk.

Okay.

There is no love like a mother's love.

Mom convinced Max
to give me a chance to prove myself...

maybe to even help us.

Now I just had to figure out
a way to get Thaddeus to crack.

I could have loved her.

What are you doing here? Huh?

She unlocked something
deep inside of me.

You knew that...

and you took her away from me.

Sarah.

Will you tell Barkley...

to stay out of my apartment?

He went into your apartment?

Yeah.

You told me a guy
killed himself in there.

- You didn't tell me your son was unstable.
- What did he do?

He threatened me.

You know what?
I'm sorry. It won't happen again.

I'll talk to him. Okay?
I promise.

Sorry.
Can you hand me the measuring cup?

Sorry.

I really like living here.
He's spoiling it.

Hey. I need some prints run on this.

No "hello"? No "how are you?"

I'm not big on foreplay,
but you treat me this way, I feel dirty.

I need it A.S.A.P.

There you are.
Sweet-talk me, and I'm a pushover.

Three years ago, Sharon...

a. k. a. City Hall...

escaped from
the Gilissen Hospital...

for the Criminally Insane.

She was committed for
burning her father alive.

That's where she met
fellow patient...

Thaddeus James.

And it seems your father and I...

knew the James family
once upon a time.

It's FBI business.
You know I can't talk about it.

When will you be back?

Couple of days.

We have cocktails
at the Pedersens' Friday night.

If I'm not back,
take your little friend Beth.

For God sakes.

I'm just helping her out.
She's having a hard time keeping up.

Thaddeus James.
Detective Mariner.

Well, is there anything
I can do for you, Detective?

Barkley Michaelson threatened you.

His mother, Sarah Michaelson,
told us about it.

Look, you know, the kid...

he seems harmless, but...

I'm here to tell you he's not.

History can't be denied.

I know that you're seeing...

that Sharon Hall that
Michaelson is obsessed by.

If you care for her...

I would take her very far from here.

Hello, Brother.

By now, you should have found
a sampling of City's lovejuice.

She did put up a fight, but...

she's since been, let's just say...

subdued.

Look, I've kidnapped dear old dad...

and I want a million
for his release.

You can think about it.
I am patient.

Oh, yeah. I can subsist
for weeks dining on City Hall.

But if I do not receive the money
by the time City's flesh has been consumed...

well, at that point
I'm gonna have to embark...

on the less savory task
of consuming our father.

I'm gonna need some
pretty heavy marinade for that.

Have you lost your mind, Barkley?

You needed to know
what it feels like to be kidnapped.

So...

Harriman James.

You fucked his wife,
stole his theories, drove him to suicide.

Oh, bullshit.

Glynnis James was cute and she screwed
a lot of men, but I was not one of them.

So how do you explain
all the checks?

What checks?

All the checks that you sent her
throughout the years.

Harriman James was my friend.

He left his pregnant wife...

penniless.

When I could, I helped her out.

That's really touching.
It is.

I just don't understand why
you would be nice to her...

when you've never been nice
to anyone in your entire fuckin' life!

Because I do not believe
in helping those...

who can help themselves,
like you, for instance.

Oh, I have a mountain of anger...

and, uh, I'd say a fair amount
of despair that informs...

pretty much everything that I do.

Do you know where that stems from?

Being born the son
of an asshole like you.

- What are you talking about?
- Harriman James...

had nothing to do with your Nobel Prize-winning
work in single-molecule spectroscopy?

He piddled around in it.
I made it work.

Do you really think...

that holding me for ransom
is gonna accomplish anything?

And besides, who do you think is gonna pay?
Your mother is broke, Barkley.

Thaddeus is going to pay.

- Thaddeus?
- Thaddeus James.

Your son.

Even if he was my son,
which he is not...

how is he gonna pay?

He's a used car dealer, huh? Where's
he gonna come up with that kind of money?

Uh, Thaddeus was my kidnapper.

If any of this is true...

why are you telling me this now?

Because up until now,
Thaddeus held all the cards.

Until I realized
that he wasn't lying...

about you and Harriman.

Look at this.
Recognize this?

Oh, yeah. I scanned it.

And I can have it all over
the Internet in seconds.

Your little talk didn't work.

Well, Barkley is my son,
and I love him...

but I think we should
call the police.

No police.

He's gotta be...

He's gotta be bluffing.

Uh, delivery for Thaddeus James.

Hey. Just sign here.

Good night.

I didn't order anything.

"Preheat oven to 350.

Cook for 20 minutes
or until golden brown. "

What?

What is it?

Oh, God.

The sick fucker.

I think it's City.

Not again.

He threatened
to do this to Meredith...

but I never thought
he would actually...

I just found my dad.

I'm not gonna let
that crazy bastard eat him.

- Hello?
- Hello, Brother.

Want the recipe?
It's an old family secret.

Put the money...

in Aunt Lillie's old beige carry-on.

Mom will find it for you.

Go to the bus station in
Stovepipe Wells, Death Valley.

It'll take you
six hours by car.

Put the money in locker number 126.

Close it. Lock it.

Get in your stolen car and go home.

At 7:00 sharp, answer your phone...

- or else dear old dad is cooked.
- Fuck!

"Among the anthropophagi...

people's friends are people's sarcophagi. "

Now what?

Photographs,
courtesy of Thaddeus James.

Far too many shots
of your philandering penis for my taste.

Mom deserves better.

Ain't that the truth.

But I'll always love you, Eli,
'cause you gave me Barkley.

Please believe me.

You are the only woman I ever loved.

We're getting divorced, Eli,
and I'm taking you to the cleaners.

Well...

good luck.

I don't need luck.

A DNA test will link you
to Thaddeus's paternity.

And Harriman's papers will bring the merits
of your Nobel Prize into question.

Imagine the humiliation.

I bet it was your idea,
this whole kidnapping thing, wasn't it?

No. Actually, it was all Barkley.

Clever kid,
that son of ours.

Guess I really do
take after you, Dad.

I can't believe I'm getting money-laundering
instructions from my mother.

We're splitting that money 50-50.

Max?

It's your one mil.

Figured if I returned it
to you legitimately...

Eli would be getting 50% in the divorce, so...

And this way...

you could share it with me.

We could live pretty well
on this in Montana.

I'm not leaving my job.

That'd be fine.

Hi, Barkley.

Max.

Surveillance tape from the mall.

Nice disguise.

But I gotta ask you.

The breast...

with the string beans on the side.

Marzipan.

A marzipan breast.

A gallon ofblood.
You can buy anything in L.A.

As for City,
Mom arranged for her to go back...

to the Gilissen Hospital
for the Criminally Insane...

where I am sure that her artwork
will never fully be appreciated.

where I am sure that her artwork
will never fully be appreciated.

We make our choices, don't we, City?

Sometimes they're made for us, baby.

I finished my thesis.

I even got it published.

To quote the Jacket cover:

"It isn't evil to eat the dead.

"It's recycling.

True evil is to eat a man alive. "

Dr. Michaelson?

I'm having trouble
understanding...

how to derive
the transition kinetics...

from the autocorrelation function
using the photon counting measurements.

Kinetics. Yes.

Just like a measly molecule,
man can so swiftly go...

from a glorious state
of high energy...

to an ignominious one of isolation.

But then again...

a molecule that interacts
with other molecules...

has a much greater potential...

to luminesce.

Sir?

I'm free tonight.

And you?