Bright Lights, Big City (1988) - full transcript
Jamie Conway (Michael J. Fox) is an aspiring writer and yuppie living in New York City who seeks oblivion in cocaine and the glittery nightclub scene as his life falls apart (his wife leaves him, his mother dies, etc.). With his hard-partying friend Tad Allagash (Kiefer Sutherland) tagging along with him during their nights out, Jamie finds it increasingly difficult to show up every day at his unfulfilling job as a fast checker for a literary Manhattan magazine.
Hey!
Hey!
Why so sad?
What?
Why so sad?
I'm not sad.
Trouble with a woman?
What?
Trouble with a woman?
Something like that.
You want another drink?
Last call.
Sure. Why not?
You are not the kind of guy
who would be...
at a place like this
at this time in the morning...
but here you are,
and you can't say...
that the terrain
is entirely unfamiliar...
although you must admit
that the details are fuzzy.
You're the kind of guy
who wakes up early...
to the smell of bread
from the local bakery...
goes out, brings back the paper
and a couple of croissants...
to your wife Amanda.
She left you
a couple of months ago...
and here you are.
How did you get here?
All might come clear...
if you could just slip
into the bathroom...
and do a little more
Bolivian marching powder...
but, then again, this epidemic
lack of clarity...
is a result of
too much of that already.
Your brain is composed
of brigades...
of tiny Bolivian soldiers.
They're tired and muddy...
from their long march
through the night...
and they're hungry.
They need to be fed.
They need the Bolivian
marching powder.
Hi. Got some blow?
I love drugs.
That's something
we have in common.
Have you ever noticed how
the good words start with "D"?
"D" and L...
You know, drugs,
delight, decadence.
Debauchery.
Dexedrine.
Delectable, debilitated...
deranged.
Delinquent.
Delirium.
And lush and luscious.
Languorous.
Librium.
Libidinous.
What's that?
Horny.
What, do you have a problem
with "H" words?
Shit.
OK, everyone,
the Palladium is now closed.
We'll reopen again
tomorrow night at 11:00...
and we hope to see you then.
Barbara! Barbara!
Where did Allagash go?
He left a couple of hours ago.
Shit.
Shit!
Hey. Hey...
Morning. Listen, I only have
$1.50 in my pocket.
- When we get to my apartment...
- Go fuck yourself.
Thank you.
Yeah.
What time is it?
Oh, shit.
Oh, shit.
Is she there yet?
Is she looking for me?
Oh, shit. Oh, Christ, Meg.
I'm all right.
OK, I'm coming in.
"The Post" is the most shameful
of your several addictions.
You're a secret fan
of killer bees, hero cops...
sex fiends, lottery winners...
teenage terrorists,
Liz Taylor...
tough tots, sicko creeps,
living nightmares...
life on other planets,
spontaneous human combustion...
coma babies.
Morning. Thanks.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Good morning.
Tardy, tardy. Very tardy.
Good morning, Mr. Conway.
May I speak to you
in my office?
Close the door.
How nice to see you, Jamie.
Thank you, Clara.
Nice to see you.
I wasn't sure you were keeping
office hours anymore.
Sit down.
Mr. Vogel has decided to move
the French piece up an issue.
That means I need it on my desk
before you leave today.
Is that clear?
Quite clear.
I want every single fact
verified...
as per standard procedure.
I want the spelling
of every name double-checked.
I want every accent in place.
I want every figure correct.
If the writer gives
the population of France...
I want you to find
the exact figure...
man, woman, and child...
down to the last baby born
the hour we go to press.
Is that clear?
Crystalline.
Because if there is
one single mistake...
in that article,
whose fault will it be?
The writer's fault?
My fault.
Exactly. And if I were you...
I would be on the phone
to Paris now...
where it is 5:00
in the afternoon...
and where everyone
is thinking of going home.
Of course, we know
from your resume...
that you're fluent in French...
so this will be
no problem for you.
Absolutely. No problem.
My desk.
My ass.
What?
Alors, vite, vite.
Allons-y. Travaillez.
Still got that nasty
sinus problem, I see.
Records, hi.
This is Yasu Wade
from "Gotham Magazine."
Jamie, listen, do you want
some help with that?
- No, Meg. Thanks, I'm fine.
- I'm not real busy.
- Are you sure?
- Yeah. I'm sure. Absolutely.
There's a certain
shabby nobility...
in failing all by myself.
Well, if you can call me back,
I'll be here until about...
Yeah, hi, Eleanor? Listen,
can you get those calls...
through to Paris
for me this morning?
Right. Yeah.
The same two ministries.
Oh, and I need you...
to get ahold
of John Martin for me.
Right. You got that number?
OK. Thanks.
Richard Rose.
Richard B. Rose.
Thanks. Thanks a lot.
Jesus Christ.
Hello.
"Ne kee tay pa"?
Oh! Ne quittez pas.
Oui, je... oui.
Why did I put knowledge
of French on my resume?
Jamie, you don't speak French?
Pardon?
Oui. Je suis
Monsieur Jamie Conway...
des Etats-Unis.
Oui. Je travaille
sur le, uh, essai...
de, uh, politique?
Shit. I mean, merde.
I mean, pardon?
De pol... hello?
Hello?
Line went dead.
Mr. Vogel. May I help you?
No, thank you.
- Clara?
- Oh, hello, Mr. Vogel.
Headache?
Yeah.
I need to go to the deli,
get a little nourishment.
- You want anything?
- I'd love a cheese danish.
All right, OK.
Anybody else want anything?
No, thank you.
- Last chance!
- No, thanks.
Megan, if anybody calls,
I'll be right back.
Mr. Tyler.
How's the travel section?
Fine, fine.
Big piece on Tibet this week.
How's that beautiful wife
of yours?
She's fine.
She's in Paris, modeling.
Really? I could have sworn...
I saw her modeling some clothes
on a TV talk show this weekend.
No, it must have been a rerun.
I'd know if she was in town.
Yeah, you'd certainly hope so.
So how's Clara behaving?
Same as usual.
Like a fourth-grade tyrant.
I've always wanted
to ask somebody in fact...
does Clara piss
in the men's room...
or the ladies'?
I don't believe she pisses.
Marvelous.
So how do you like it
down here in fact?
All in all,
I'd rather be in fiction.
Oh, you write, don't you?
That seems to be
a matter of opinion.
Read Hazlitt, that's my advice.
Read Hazlitt and write
before breakfast every day.
OK, what can I do you for?
Pastrami on rye.
Want a little mustard
today, Jamie?
Yeah, mustard.
Mustard and butter.
And butter.
Just like your mother made it?
What do you know about it?
That's how my mother
used to make it.
Hey, listen,
while you were out...
I took two messages for you...
one from Monsieur something at
the department of something...
and one from
your brother Michael.
Really?
Yeah. He said it was urgent.
Right.
Is Vogel still in there?
Yeah.
I wonder what's going on.
Allo?
Practicing our French, are we?
No, excuse me, ma'am.
I thought it was
my call from Paris.
Can you spare a few moments
to see me in my office?
Sure.
I'm about to find out.
Close the door.
Mr. Vogel?
Good afternoon.
Something wrong?
Did you verify the facts
in this article?
Frecipitate or precipitous?
Oh, yeah. Yes, yes. I remember.
Mr. Vogel called me up
and expressed his concern...
about the president's
correct usage of English.
In this piece...
the president warns against
precipitous action.
Mr. Vogel felt that
"precipitate" was the word...
the president was looking for.
- Correct.
- Go on.
Well, I called the White House,
tried to explain to them...
the importance
of the distinction.
I spent several hours on hold.
So, finally,
with the composing room...
and everybody screaming
for the final pages...
I checked with
Webster's third edition...
which listed them
as synonymous.
The third edition?
Yeah. I know that
the second edition...
gives different meanings
for the words...
but the third edition
is a lot racier.
Hello!
John Martin. Hi.
Jamie Conway here.
Jamie. "Gotham Magazine."
Right, right. Yeah, listen.
I'm checking facts...
on that piece you wrote
about the French elections.
Yeah. It's great, John.
It's good.
It's really good. Right.
Where did you get this
about the French government...
owning a controlling interest
in Paramount Pictures?
No. John, I can't...
I can't run
a line through that.
The next three paragraphs
depend on it.
No, I just need to know
if it's true or not.
You heard it where?
At a fucking cocktail party?
No, John, no. Don't hang up.
All right, get the door.
I'll hold.
Just call me back, all right?
This is going
to take all night.
Jamie.
I want it on my desk
before you leave.
I've left my door unlocked.
Jimmy, good to see you.
- Mr. Allagash. How you doing?
- Good, thank you.
Can I get a vodka on the rocks,
and can I borrow your phone?
- You got it.
- Thank you.
Hello. Hello.
What the fuck are you doing
at the office?
We have plans tonight.
Monstrous events are scheduled.
What happened to you
Saturday night, Allagash?
I had to walk home.
I couldn't pay for a cab.
- I left.
- Yeah, I know.
I, believe it or not...
took this bimbo back
to her place on Fifth Avenue.
Did some of her
off-the-boat-quality drugs.
We scooped it out of
these tall Ming vases...
did it off
each other's naked bodies.
Fucking beautiful, man.
Bullshit.
No, it's true.
God, I hate you.
Well, let me tell you
about tonight.
Elaine and Theresa,
they're dying to meet you.
Theresa's father
owns an oil company...
and Elaine is soon to be in
a major television commercial.
And I think I have
cornered a big chunk...
of Bolivia's national product.
No, look, I'll be working
on this thing most of the night.
Then I'm gonna go home
and get some sleep.
Give me a time.
I'll pick you up.
Call me in half an hour.
I have to finish this.
I'll see you in a while.
Bye-bye.
Thanks a lot, Jimmy.
There you go, Clara.
Read it and weep.
Good night.
"He was expecting her...
"on the afternoon flight
from Paris...
"when she called to say
she would not be coming home.
"' Taking a later flight?'
he asked.
'No,' she said,
'I'm starting a new life."'
Screw it.
Who is it?
Narcotics squad.
We're soliciting donations...
for children around the world
without drugs.
Would you open
the door, please?
Yeah, one minute.
Hang on a second.
Ready to roll?
The girls are waiting.
Right. Where are we rolling to?
Into the heart of the night.
Wherever there are dances
to be danced...
drugs to be hoovered,
women to be Allagashed.
It's a dirty job, Jamie,
but somebody's got to do it.
Speaking of drugs,
are you in possession?
Negative.
Not even a single line
for young Tad?
Sorry.
- Not even a mirror to lick?
- Jesus. Help yourself.
Where the fuck
did you get this?
I told you, I inherited that
from my grandmother.
Christ. Jesus,
I got to change this shirt.
There's something on here.
Yeah. That's dust, Tad.
The dust in this apartmenfs...
probably got better
coke content...
than some of the shit
we buy by the gram.
Did you know that 90% of
the average household dust...
is composed of
human epidermal matter?
That's skin to you.
Maybe that's why I keep
thinking about Amanda.
She left her skin behind.
Doing a little writing, are we?
Yeah! "Dead Amanda."
I told you,
you'd get more nookie...
than you could shake
a fucking stick at...
if you just told people
your wife was dead.
I hit the wrong key.
It's the sympathy vote
that counts.
It's a lot better than saying
she fit you with horns...
and kited off to Paris.
Are you sure you have no drugs
in this apartment?
There's some Robitussin
in the bathroom.
I'm real disappointed
in you, coach.
I always figured you
for the kind of guy...
who'd save something
for a rainy day.
I've fallen in
with bad companions.
Maybe Amanda died
in a plane crash.
She was coming
home from Paris...
on the day of your
first anniversary.
That's fucking beautiful.
Come on, Warner.
Answer the goddamn phone.
Shit!
I know that asshole's
sitting up there in his loft...
on top of a pile of toot,
ignoring the goddamn phone.
It's 11:00.
It's a little too early
for Odeon...
but I figure
once we're downtown...
it'll be happy hunting ground
for sneeze and squeeze.
Let's go. You look beautiful.
- Can I ask you one question?
- Absolutely.
Do you ever have this
nearly overwhelming desire...
to just spend
a quiet evening at home?
No.
Elaine! Theresa!
This is Jamie Conway.
- Hi.
- Hi, Jamie.
Aren't you
Amanda White's boyfriend?
Husband. Yeah, I was.
You didn't hear?
She was in Paris showing
the fall collection.
She got hit by a burst
of terrorist crossfire.
Palestinians, French police.
It was a real fluke thing.
Senseless death.
She was an innocent bystander.
Jamie doesn't like
to talk about it.
Jeez, that's terrible.
Yeah.
A tragedy is what it is.
I have to take care
of some business.
But you'll
take care of him? Good.
Is that true?
Not really, no.
What is Amanda doing
these days?
She's in Paris.
She's doing the
Oscar de la Renta collection.
Wait a minute, is she alive?
We sort of split up.
Too bad for you. She was yummy.
Sort of the slinky
girl-next-door look.
Very ingenuous.
I don't understand this.
Neither do I.
- Aren't you a writer?
- Yeah, I do some writing.
More of an editor, actually.
"Gotham Magazine."
Oh, God. I've been reading it
all my life.
I mean, my parents get it.
I always read it
at the gynecologist':
What's your name again?
Should I know you?
I haven't actually
been published yet.
They have a couple
of my short stories.
I got my fingers crossed.
A matter of time.
Don't you want a drink?
Yeah. That would be great.
Oh, too late. Bingo.
Oh, shit!
Seems like I spend about
half my life in bathrooms.
Hey, Bruno, two vodkas.
You got it.
Hey, Jamie!
Hey, Rich!
When did you get back?
I can't hear you.
Where's Amanda?
I'm sorry. That's terrible.
Jamie, I'm so sorry.
Hey, two Stolis on the rocks.
Hey, here we go, ladies.
Did you have the vodka,
or did you have the vodka?
- No margarita?
- No margarita. Vodka. Vodka.
Thanks.
Jamie.
What did you say to them?
What?
What did you say
to Rich and Kathy?
I told them Amanda died
of leukemia.
What?
I told them Amanda died
of leukemia.
That's not funny.
My mom died of cancer.
Jamie!
I'm sorry.
What was that all about?
I just said something
in really bad taste.
Oh, Jamie.
I'm so sorry about Amanda.
She was such a pretty girl,
and you made a great couple.
It's all right, Kathy.
She's not dead.
- What? She's not dead?
- No. She's not dead.
He's pulling your leg.
She's in Paris.
She's doing a shoot.
Well, did you break up
or something?
Sort of. Maybe. I don't know.
Oh. Want to dance?
No, not right now. Maybe later?
- OK.
- All right, later.
I tried.
Where are the girls?
- Bath room.
- What, without me?
- I guess so.
- You gonna come?
No, I'll catch you
on the rebound.
All right.
Excuse me, ladies, coming in.
- Hi. How you doing?
- Fine.
All right.
Hey, save some for me.
Want to join the party?
No, thanks. Bon appetit.
It's very late.
You don't remember
getting home...
but you dream
about the coma baby.
What? What do you want?
You going to come out?
No way, Jose.
I like it in here.
Everything I need is pumped in.
Mom's on her way out.
Hey, if the old lady goes,
then I'm going with her.
Don't be like that.
I can't hear you.
I can't hear you.
Come out.
Listen to me,
you got to come out.
Open up. It's the doctor.
They're never gonna
take me alive.
Hello?
Jamie?
Oui.
Hi. It's Megan.
I just wanted to make
sure you were awake.
Oh, yeah.
What, are you kidding me, Megan?
I'm making breakfast.
I'm making sausage and eggs.
Look, I hope you don't mind...
but I didn't want you getting
in Dutch with Clara again.
She's not here yet.
But I just wanted to make sure
you were awake.
OK. You sure you're awake?
It certainly feels like it.
Headache, queasy stomach...
all the vital signs.
I'll be right there.
I'll get it. Hello?
Michael, hello.
No, he's not here yet,
but I expect him any minute.
He didn't get back to you
yesterday?
I told him you called.
Yes, absolutely, I'll tell him.
Listen, you just missed
your brother.
You should call him right away.
It sounds important.
- Where's Clara?
- She's still not here.
I just had a call from Clara.
She's sick.
She won't be in today.
Nothing fatal, I hope.
She asked me to distribute
the assignments.
Did you finish
the French piece?
More or less.
Jeez, if she's not coming in,
maybe I can go in...
take one last look,
make sure it's OK.
She had it picked up early
and sent over to typesetting.
She even had a photocopy
messengered to her apartment.
Jesus! Why does
she hate me so much?
It's not my fault
she never got married.
I think she's secretly
determined to get me fired.
Not possible.
The magazine has a tradition...
of never acknowledging
its mistakes.
She's not going to fire you.
I'm not so sure.
She's got a heart
like a twelve-minute egg.
Let's see, now...
first in a long series
on cancer research.
Megan.
An inventor who just received
his 1aath patent...
for a rotary nose hair
clipping device. Yasu.
Here's an amusing one
for you, Jamie.
Meeting of the society
of polar explorers...
at the Sherry Netherland.
Good. So there was
such an event.
And you did serve...
smoked emperor penguin
on Triscuits. Good.
All right. Wait.
One more thing.
Yeah. Is it true that somebody
wore a headdress...
made out of walrus skin?
I'll be damned.
No, that's it.
Great. Thanks. Bye.
All right. Facts are stranger
than fiction.
OK, the polar explorer piece
is put to bed.
I'm going to grab a bite.
Anybody want anything?
I'd love a bagel,
toasted, no butter.
You would. Bagel, toasted,
no butter, got it.
Good afternoon.
Mr. Hardy.
I was just thinking
it could use some fish.
All water coolers
could use some fish.
The old crew
in the great days...
of this magazine
would have thought of it.
Siamese fighting fish
in the water cooler.
What's your name?
I know.
It's on the tip of my tongue.
- Jamie Conway.
- Jamie Conway.
Jamie Conway.
Didn't you send a story to us
in the fiction department?
Yeah. Yes.
Yes, seven months ago.
Did you get a chance
to read it?
Sort of a lower-case
Scott Fitzgerald...
without the crackup.
Yeah, I guess
you could say that.
Oh, you got a cough.
I knew Fitzgerald's
friend Bunny Wilson.
Yeah, I know.
The only great
American man of letters.
Where are you headed?
Just going out to lunch.
Good. I'll join you.
Refresh my memory.
What's it about?
A young writer
right out of college...
goes to Kansas City,
meets a beautiful girl.
They get married,
come back to New York City.
He encourages her to model.
They start going out at night,
start doing drugs.
You have
a very interesting style.
Very interesting
sense of story.
Good sense of character,
a sense of place.
I assume it's autobiographical.
- Give me a couple more of these.
- I'm still nursing this one.
It reminds me
of the kind of stuff...
I used to write
when I was a kid.
I started off as an office boy
at the magazine...
got published every so often.
I used to write satirical
sketches on Manhattan highlife.
I know, I used to read
that stuff. Amazing.
Yeah. A lot more fun
than being an editor.
All I do as an editor...
is read a lot of undisciplined,
untalented crap.
Your table's ready, Mr. Hardy.
Thanks.
Don't forget the two drinks.
Come on. Right over here.
This way.
So, what are you
working on now?
I'm thinking about
writing a novel.
I've been making some notes.
I'm just having a hard time
actually sitting down...
and writing, you know?
My wife left me, so...
it sounds corny, but I've
been doing a lot of suffering.
Have you ever considered
getting an MBA?
Absolutely not.
I'm not necessarily saying
go into business.
No, but write about it.
That's the stuff.
Right now the guys
who understand business...
will be writing
the new literature.
Money is poetry now.
I don't want to believe that.
It may be true...
but, no, I don't want
to believe that.
Look, don't be seduced
by all that crap...
about garrets and alt
like I was.
Write about money.
Eric, a couple more.
I knew some of the giants.
I knew Bill Faulkner, you know.
Oh, God, we had
a helluva lot of fun.
We used to go to Musso's
and get pissed for lunch...
and roar around.
Talk about everything
under the sun...
women, life, death, art.
But most of all,
we talked about work...
about commitment...
about not selling out.
I got to go.
No! One more.
Have one more for the road.
No, I can't. Alex, I can't.
So you think I got some talent?
I'm not just wasting my time?
How do I know whether
you're wasting your time?
You can't tell
from one little story.
Anyone can write
one little story.
Let me..
No, no. Save it. This is on me.
It's all right.
Thanks.
Amanda.
Amanda.
- Amanda!
- In here!
Hey. How are you?
Amanda.
Sorry I took so long.
It's pouring rain.
I couldn't get a cab.
It's OK. Here.
It's OK. We're just starting.
Here, put this
all over your face.
This is my husband Jamie.
This is the writer, the one
I was telling you about.
- This is Luigi.
- How you doing?
And Lucas.
It's just a head?
I thought it was the body.
I was looking forward
to seeing you lying naked...
face-down in a vat
of latex batter.
No, just my head.
Wait a minute.
How do I breathe?
We'll put some straws
in your nose.
Sounds familiar.
I didn't know
you were gonna stay that long.
You never said anything
about being there that long.
I checked the messages.
There's a party at Magique
tonight, if you want to go...
and your agent called.
She said that your flight leaves
at 1a: aa tomorrow.
And she said that
you should be prepared...
to stay the full two weeks.
You never said anything
about staying that long.
I didn't hear anything
about staying that long.
You all right?
What's the matter?
She's OK.
Hey, Amanda! Hey! You OK?
She's OK. Don't be scared.
All right, fine.
Are you all right?
I love you.
Just relax, OK? Relax.
It's OK. Amanda, I love you.
She's back.
She's in town.
Click modeling agency.
May I help you?
This is Andrew Carrington,
the photographer.
Right. I'm just in town
for a few days...
and I'm interested
in working with Amanda White.
- Is she in New York?
- Yes, as a matter of fact.
Yes, she's doing
the Oscar de la Renta show...
at the Parsons School of Design
Thursday afternoon.
Marvelous. Terrific. Thanks.
Yeah.
Mr. Conway's on the line.
I'll take it. Jamie!
Listen, I gotta talk to you.
Meet me at Cybelle's.
- I'm really busy right now.
- You gotta meet me now!
- What's the matter?
- I'll explain when I see you.
OK? Just be there. Bye.
Camelia!
I'm taking the rest
of the afternoon off.
How you doing?
Oh. Double vodka, please.
- Hey. What's the big deal?
- I need a favor.
That's funny. So do I.
What you drinking?
Double vodka.
Can I have the same, please?
Thank you.
All right, you go first.
What's yours?
Tonight I have
a very steamy engagement...
with the glorious Inge.
- Which one's Inge?
- The aspiring actress.
New York City's full
of aspiring actresses.
Inge was also Miss August.
"Penthouse" Miss August?
You got it.
- The one with the parrot?
- That's Inge.
Unfortunately, my cousin Vicky
is in town today.
She's a grad student
at Princeton.
She's here on some
academic gig at NYU.
I promised her
I'd pick her up early...
take her to dinner.
This is where you got
to help me out, coach.
Why do I envision
an overweight prig with glasses?
Hey! She's an Allagash.
She has Allagash genes.
She's a very attractive lady.
She'll also inherit a little
of the Allagash money.
That's all right.
You can't let me down, coach.
Anything I possess...
including some of
Bolivia's finest, is yours.
All right.
OK, I'll tell you what.
I'll have dinner
with your canine cousin.
Good.
If you get me into
the Oscar de la Renta show...
at the Parson Art School
Thursday afternoon.
Amanda's in town.
She's working that show.
I know.
OK.
Excuse me.
You wouldn't happen
to be Vicky, would you?
- Allagash's cousin?
- Yeah.
Hi. Jamie.
He told you, right?
- He did.
- Great.
Good. Great.
Shit. Sorry I'm so late.
It's OK.
I was just looking around.
This is a great bookstore.
Yeah. It's a little early
for dinner.
You want to do something?
Want to get a drink?
All right.
Or we could just go for a walk.
All right.
Where are you from?
Up near Marblehead.
Allagash country.
How about you?
Bucks County. Your parents?
They divorced three years ago.
Yours?
A happy marriage.
You're lucky. You have
any brothers or sisters?
Yeah. I have a brother.
Oh, that's nice.
I have a brother, too.
So, what did Tad
tell you about me?
Not much. Not much.
What did he say?
He raved.
He tried to build you up.
I was expecting
a field hockey player...
with thick glasses and lockjaw.
What did he tell you about me?
Not much.
Come on.
He said you were
a cross between...
a young
F. Scott Fitz-Hemingway...
and the later Wittgenstein.
That's it? Nothing else?
Nothing else.
Tad is a great guy.
Tad is a hell of a guy.
You got to admire his style,
his joie de vivre...
his savoir-faire,
his sprezzatura.
He's not necessarily a man
for a heart-to-healt...
but he's been a good friend
to me in a time of need...
and he's generous
in his own careless way.
- Are you two very close?
- I think he's an ass.
Exactly.
I got to go wash my hands.
I'll be right back.
Let's see if it's possible
to get through an evening...
without chemicals for a change.
So tell me about your job.
I guess I'm supposed
to be pretty impressed, huh?
Don't be.
I don't like it much, actually.
They don't like me much,
so it works out.
I know people who would kill
for a job like that.
Actually, it's pretty tedious.
When I first started
on the magazine...
I thought it'd be my first step
towards literary glory...
and it was just
a matter of time before...
I joined the roster
of famous writers.
All I do is pore over...
encyclopedias
and phone books...
and dictionaries
and government pamphlets.
It's not very creative.
I've only known you
for a couple of hours...
but that doesn't really seem
like your kind of job to me.
Yeah, I don't think it is.
Well, I really got to go now.
This is my car.
I wish you didn't.
Yeah, me, too.
- You have my number, right?
- Right.
You should call me.
Yeah, I'd like to.
Drive safe.
- Jamie.
- Hey.
Clara's here,
and she's in a rage.
She says the French piece
is a mess...
but it's too late
to pull it from the issue.
She said it was a mess?
Yep. She's got Vogel
in her office right now.
How bad could it be?
You got most of it done,
didn't you?
I really don't know.
She said it was a mess?
A mess.
I would like to see you
in my office immediately.
She said it was a mess.
I would like to know
what happened.
I screwed up?
You screwed up.
May I be so bold as to ask
for a little elaboration?
Really, I'm interested.
Just how did you
"screw up" exactly?
Well?
Do you realize
just how serious this is?
You have endangered
the reputation of this magazine.
We have built a reputation
for scrupulous accuracy...
with regard to matters of fact.
Do you know that in fifty years
of publication...
there has been
only one printed retraction?
Can I ask what errors
you found exactly?
Two accents reversed...
an electoral district
in central France...
incorrectly identified
as northern...
a minister ascribed
to the wrong department...
This is just what I've
been able to find so far.
I'm scared to death of what
I'll uncover as we go along.
The proofs are a mess.
I can't tell what you've
verified and what you haven't.
The point is, you have not
followed standard procedure...
which, by this time, should be
second nature to you...
which procedure is thoroughly
outlined in your manual...
which procedure
is the net result...
of years of collective labor...
and the proper application
of which...
ensures that
insofar as possible...
errors of fact do not appear
in this magazine!
Do you have anything
to say for yourself?
I don't think so.
This isn't the first time.
I've given you the benefit
of the doubt before.
You seem to be unable
to perform the duties...
required for this job.
I'd like to hear
what you have to say.
I assume I'm fired.
That's correct.
Effective immediately.
AWthing else?
I'm sorry.
I know you are.
Well?
It was nice working with you.
No. She didn't. She couldn't!
What exactly did she say?
The gist of it was
that I'm fired.
You didn't have enough time.
Everybody knows John Martin's
research is sloppy.
She can't do that.
Or we could take it up
with the arbitration committee.
Look, it doesn't matter, OK?
I'm gonna clean this up
tomorrow.
Jamie.
Listen.
Can we have lunch tomorrow?
I'd really like to talk to you.
Yeah, Meg. Sure.
Are you all right?
Oh, God, I forgot to tell you.
Your brother called again.
He says he's got to talk to you.
I don't want to talk
to my brother.
Lunch. Tomorrow.
Don't forget.
You want to buy a ferret?
No. No, thanks.
Loose joints.
Genuine Hawaiian sens.
His name is Fred.
What else you got?
Monkeys, boas, coke...
How much?
$50 a half.
Half what?
Half borax, half mannitol?
Pure stuff, uncut.
Sure.
No. I can't...
I can't make the fifty.
If it's fifty...
if it's fifty,
I can't buy Fred.
- You gonna buy Fred, too?
- How much is he?
I'll make you a good deal.
How many more?
One more. Just one second.
One second. This is it.
Hey, you want to step
a little lighter?
Here we are.
It's locked.
No problem.
All right. Calm down, Fred.
- Give me the leash.
- I don't have it.
- I gave it to you!
- I don't have it.
All right. Let me just
put him in her drawer.
Hold this.
All right. Calm down, Fred.
You're about to become
the mascot...
for the whole department...
a real, live ferret
for the fact-checkers.
OK, let him out.
Fuck, no. You let him out.
OK, but hold the flashlight.
I'll hold the flashlight.
Alright!
OK. Easy now.
Hi, Fred. Hi, buddy.
Oh, Jesus! Get it off!
Throw it!
Get it Off!
Throw it!
Not at me!
Oh, God!
Jamie, get this
fucking thing off!
I can't!
I'm bleeding here, Tad!
Jesus Christ!
Get the fuck off of me!
Jamie!
God!
Come here, let me see.
Oh, shit!
Jesus. Look at this.
One more inch.
Oh, God, I...
Hey, what's going on in here?
Oh, fuck.
Is the door locked?
Oh, shit!
I know you're in there!
Pygmies.
I'm surrounded by pygmies.
It's OK.
Alex. Hi.
I lost my wallet in here
this morning.
I just came back to find it.
Got it!
He found it.
I knew the giants.
Yeah.
I worked with the giants,
guys whose words...
Words went out
into the world...
and kicked some ass.
All right, OK.
Girls, then, women...
whatever...
Lillian Hellman,
Katherine Anne Porter...
Anais Nin, Dorothy Parker.
I'm talking talent here...
male or female...
not like these precious turds
around today.
- Goddamn pygmies...
- Fred.
And their pygmy talent.
Jesus!
What the hell is that thing?
Jesus!
Oh, no.
Great. Let's get
the hell out of here.
No, I can't
leave him like this.
Do you want to explain
to everybody why we're here?
- Let's go.
- Shit! Just a minute.
Are you all right, Alex?
- He's fine.
- Get the suitcase!
All right, where's Fred?
He went down the hall.
Fred! Freddie!
Fuck Fred!
Let's get out of here.
You're on your own, Fred.
Wait!
Fitz...
and Faulkner.
Faulkner
and Theodore... Dreiser.
I can't remember when I had
my last tetanus shot.
I wonder if it needs stitches.
Let me see.
Nah, I don't think so.
If Fred was rabid, he wouldn't
have been so friendly...
before you put him
in the suitcase.
I hear rabies shots
are really painful.
They put needles in your dick
or something.
Here. Give me your hand.
Oh, great! Oh, shit!
So much for antiseptic.
Now for anesthetic.
I can see the headline
in the "Post" now...
"Faulkner friend falls afoul
of furry fiend."
"De casibus firorum
illustrium"...
as we used to say
in the old Latin class.
What does that mean?
Something to do with
the fall of famous men.
- Hey, don't answer that!
- I think it's Warner!
- Heartbreak Hotel.
- Hi, is Jamie there?
Yo, Michael!
I'm not home. No.
How's it going
on the home front?
Yeah. No.
Jamie's not here right now.
Yeah. Amanda's not here either.
Me? I'm just sitting here,
watering the plants.
You know, they got
this real thirsty jade tree.
Yeah. Would I kid you, Michael?
Yeah. No, I think they took off
to the Hamptons.
Yeah. Look, Michael,
I got to take off, OK?
I'm gonna leave a message.
I promise.
OK. Bye-bye.
What's wrong with Michael?
He sounds really upset.
I don't want to talk about it.
OK.
I almost forgot.
Here's the invitation
to the fashion show.
Jesus Christ.
Thanks a lot for taking Vicky
off my hands last night.
Inge is eternally grateful.
Oh, no. My pleasure.
Really? You got lucky, did you?
None of your goddamn business.
Jesus.
You never really liked
Amanda much, did you?
God knows she wasn't
hard to look at.
I don't know why you felt like
you had to marry her, though.
Yeah. I've been wondering
the same thing.
Didn't you see the sign
on her forehead?
What sign?
"Space to let,
long and short-term leasing."
We met in a bar.
It was too dark to read.
Your invitation, please.
Have they started yet?
Just. You'll have to sit
in the back, though.
Double vodka.
The bar's closed.
One for my date, too.
Amanda.
Amanda, I want an explanation!
Amanda! I want an answer.
I want an explanation.
I want to know why.
I just want to know why.
Amanda, I want answers!
I just want to know why!
Amanda, you owe me.
You owe me!
You owe me an explanation!
- Let's go!
- That's my wife!
You're out of here, pal!
Amanda! Amanda!
All right,
you're out of here, buddy!
Stay out of here!
Jamie!
Jamie, stop!
Jamie, stop! It's me... Michael!
Remember me?
I remember something
about a lunch date.
Damn. Damn.
I'm sorry.
By the way,
whatever happened to my bagel...
toasted, no butter?
How about dinner?
One more meal with you
could be the death of me.
Tell me about Amanda.
I get the feeling
something bad happened.
Amanda.
My Amanda, the Amanda
that I fell in love with...
is a fictional character.
I made her up.
She doesn't exist.
I didn't realize this
until another woman...
also named Amanda...
did me in...
with a collect phone call
from Paris.
Mind if I open
another bottle of wine?
- Sure. Go ahead.
- Fabulous.
I'm not sure which one did what
to me, or when she did it...
but I do know I met
one of them in Kansas City.
Did I ever tell you that?
No.
I worked there,
right out of college.
"Kansas City Star."
Hemingway worked there.
It was his first job, too.
Anyway, I met her in a bar
called the Bum Steer.
Anyway, I couldn't
believe my luck.
She walks right up to me...
this gorgeous creature.
I found out later
that she overheard me...
tell the bartender
that I was from New York.
I should've known.
So, within a week,
she moved in with me.
My education, she said,
excited her...
and her desire to educate
herself with my help excited me.
She wanted to better herself.
She had a really
terrible childhood...
really grim.
Divorce.
Stepfathers plural.
Trailer parks, all that shit.
My writing excited her...
and the fact that
she was excited excited me.
We got excited a lot together.
So eight months later,
we decided to move to New York.
That was inevitable.
She wanted to live
a magazine ad.
I wanted to live
a literary cliche.
My parents
weren't exactly thrilled...
with the living-together
arrangement.
But they liked Amanda.
They welcomed her...
welcomed her like
she was a fuckin' refugee...
especially my mother.
Anyway, as soon as
we got here...
she was desperate
to get married.
She was worried
I was gonna leave her.
No. I think she was worried that
my book would be published...
I'd become famous,
and I'd find somebody else.
Anyway, after a year
of living together...
eight months there,
four months here...
and the way she was behaving...
"Marry me, marry me..."
we decided it was the thing
to do, so we did it.
So there she was...
Mrs. Conway, on my arm.
People were knocked out by her.
All my friends said,
"God, she could be a model..."
which was exactly
what she wanted to hear.
So one day she takes it
upon herself...
to stop off
at a modeling agency...
and fuck me if she doesn't
come home with a contract...
like that.
They said she was a natural.
So then her career,
like, takes off.
She's on magazine covers,
commercials, layouts.
All her dreams are coming true.
Not true of mine.
I mean, I was trying to write.
I was working on a novel.
Submitted some short stories
to the magazine.
But our life was really
complicated then, you know?
She was invited everywhere
that I wasn't invited...
and I was invited a lot.
And getting out of bed
at 6 A.M. to work on a novel...
just kept getting harder...
and harder and harder.
And then
there was this change...
this really subtle change.
I know when I was at work...
she was snooping
around my desk.
She was trying to see
if I, the writer...
was making any progress.
I know this because
she started smiling...
when I started telling people
at cocktail parties...
that I was working on a book.
'Cause then,
about two months ago...
she was packing for a trip
to Paris for the collection.
She started to cry.
I asked her
what was the matter.
She said she was worried
about the flight.
She was nervous
about the flight.
By the time the cab came,
she was fine.
We kissed at the door.
She told me
to water the plants.
The night before
she was due home, she called.
Her voice sounded peculiar.
She said she wasn't
coming home this time.
I didn't understand.
She said her career was
really taking off over there.
So...
a couple of days later...
this man calls.
He said he was her lawyer.
Easiest thing
all the way around, he said...
was for me to sue her...
for sexual abandonment.
A legal term, he said.
My friend Allagash says...
that not only was her leaving
not surprising...
it was inevitable.
And my heartbreak
is just a variation...
on the same old story.
Where's the john?
Right in there.
Are you all right?
You OK?
I'm fine. Yeah, I'm fine.
You're too high.
Contraceptive jelly.
"Unscented.
Colorless. Stainless."
This is good news.
"Megan Avery.
Lithium carbonate.
"Take four times daily."
Tetracycline.
Valium.
Valium. Victory. Valium.
You're too high.
You're too high.
You got to come down.
Too high.
- You all right?
- Fine.
Thought I'd get the dishes
out of the way.
That's a good policy.
You want some more wine?
No, I'm not much
of a drinker anymore.
That's also a good policy.
Have you been able
to write at all?
What are you gonna do
in the meantime?
You have anyjob prospects?
I've got some leads.
I know an editor
at Harper and Row...
who'd be happy to talk to you.
Whoa. Megan...
I appreciate your efficiency...
but getting fired
has wiped my ass out...
and I'd just as soon
put the prospect...
of any future employment
on hold right now.
But thank you.
Thanks very much.
If you need a little money
to tide you over...
don't hesitate to ask.
You're terrific.
I just want to see you
get back on your feet.
You are a rare woman.
Everything's gonna work out.
A rare woman.
Everything's
gonna be all right.
No. That's not what you want.
Jamie, that's
not what you want.
- Yeah.
- No.
No, no. Calm down. Calm down.
Poor baby.
Poor baby. Poor little baby.
I got to go.
Oh, fuck. I got to go.
Jamie, are you all right?
I'm fine.
Thanks for the linguine
and sympathy.
Jamie. Are you all right?
I'm OK! I'm OK!
Michael.
How did you get in here,
Michael?
I talked to the super.
He let me in.
Sneaky little shit.
What the hell's
going on with you?
I've been trying to track
you down for over a week!
I called your office,
I called here.
- When did you get into the city?
- Today! You saw me today!
I thought you were
somebody else.
Don't give me that bullshit!
I left about 150 messages
at your office.
Then I go to your office
this morning...
and they tell me that,
as of yesterday...
you're no longer employed there.
What the fuck is goin' on?
Why do you want
to see me about?
I don't want to see you.
I'd just as soon leave you here
to drown in coke...
or whatever it is you're doing,
but Dad's worried about you...
and I'm worried about Dad.
Why? How is Dad?
What do you care?
Dad's in California
on business.
At least,
he was until last night.
He called me to make sure
you got home for the weekend.
Since you never call or answer,
here I am...
and you're coming back with me,
whether you want to or not.
- OK.
- Do you hear me?
OK!
Tomorrow's the anniversary.
One year,
in case you've forgotten.
We're gonna spread her ashes
in the lake...
and Dad wants you to be there.
Jamie?
You just forgotten Mom
completely, haven't you?
Don't get righteous with me!
You haven't seen Dad
since last Christmas.
- Shut up!
- Don't tell me to...
Shut up! Shut the fuck up!
OK? I'll be there! Shut up!
Shut up!
Can I make a sandwich?
Help yourself.
Hey, where's Amanda?
Shopping-
At this time of night?
Find everything
you need in there?
Well, the milk is sour.
This bread is moldy.
What the hell do you live on?
A lot of things
that start with
What?
Amanda isn't shopping, Mike.
Amanda left me.
I'm sorry.
I never really liked Amanda
too much, to tell you the truth.
I always thought
she was a fake.
I was just thinking.
When Mom was sick...
Amanda was really cold
and distant, you know?
It's like she resented
Mom dying or something.
Well, do you think
you would've married her...
if Mom hadn't been sick?
Mom never said
it would do her heart good...
to see you get married.
But you wanted her to be happy,
and she wanted you to be happy.
In the end, you might have
confused what she wanted...
with what Amanda wanted.
Hey, you want
a couple of lines?
No. Thanks.
Do you mind
if I take a shower?
No. Would you, Mike?
That'd be great.
You know, Jamie...
it was exactly a year ago today
that you came home.
I'm gonna hop in the shower.
Good.
Have you slept
with a lot of girls?
Mom, really, that's...
Now, come on.
What's the matter?
Yeah.
Yes, Mom.
There have been some girls.
Really?
Mom, I'm not
going into details.
Why not?
It's embarrassing.
No, don't be embarrassed.
Just, you know,
tell me what it's like.
Do you enjoy it?
Yeah, I like it.
You've slept with girls that
you haven't been in love with?
Is it different
when you're in love?
Sure.
It's better.
What about Sally Keegan?
Did you sleep with her?
Once.
The night of the prom.
I thought so.
What about Stephanie Bates?
Oh, God.
How do you know this stuff?
You were the funniest
little boy.
You were an awful baby.
You were a real screamer.
You cried through the night.
There were some nights...
we had to take you out
and put you in the car...
and drive you around
to get you to sleep.
You were something.
Hold my hand!
Hold my hand!
Yes.
The pain...
Mom, please. Let me give you
the morphine, OK?
No, wait! Wait.
Wait. You know
what this is like?
This pain?
This is like
when you were born.
It sounds crazy...
I know, but...
that's exactly what it's like.
It was that bad?
Terrible.
You just didn't want
to come out.
I didn't think
I'd live through it.
Now you know...
why I love you so much...
so much.
Mum?
The pain's going away.
That's good. That's good.
Are you still holding my hand?
Yes, I am.
Good, honey.
Don't let go.
What?
It's Allagash. I'm at a party,
and your presence is requested.
My brother's here right now.
I can't go to any party.
Amanda's here.
Where is it?
2 Staple Street.
I'll be there.
Michael? I'm going out.
Jamie!
Taxi!
It's the best.
Yeah. That one right there.
Barbara?
Where's Allagash?
I think he's somewhere
over there.
Thanks.
I had that imported.
Oh, I'd love to get
some tickets.
Allagash.
Where is she?
Easy, Jamie.
You look ready to detonate.
Whose party is this?
The heir to some
fast-food fortune.
Jamie, I'd like you
to meet Stevie.
You want to dance?
Maybe later.
Where is she?
Your formerly deceased,
not yet ex-wife?
Right.
Let me tell you something.
She didn't come here alone.
She got a new friend.
Some famous French photographer.
She's telling everybody
he's gonna make her a star.
- Hey, Tony.
- Albelt.
So... how's it going?
"How's it 90mg?"
Yeah.
"How's it 90mg?"
Oh, hey. How's it going?
Oh, fuck.
Come on.
Stevie, can you get him
a glass of water.
Here, take my drink.
It's OK. It's OK.
Oh, Jesus.
He got blood on that column.
Out of the way!
Out of the way!
- He's an epileptic.
- I am not.
He's an emotional quadriplegic.
"How's it 90mg?"
I need some help.
Whatever that is.
I can't straighten
everything out...
all in one night.
Hello?
Vicky, sorry for calling
so late... or so early...
or whatever it is. What is it?
Who is this?
It's Jamie.
Oh, Jamie. What time is it?
It's late. I'm in New York.
I just wanted to talk.
Let me guess. You're with Tad?
I was with Tad.
Tad's around here someplace.
Is something wrong?
I just wanted to tell you
that my mom died.
Oh, God. I'm sorry.
- When?
- A year ago.
I didn't tell you before...
so I just wanted
to tell you now.
Seemed important.
I'm sorry.
I tried to block her
out of my mind...
but I think I owe it
to her to remember.
I was thinking tonight.
When she found out
that she had cancer...
she was talking
to Michael and me.
- Michael?
- My brother.
She said if the pain
became unbearable...
she wanted us
to help her...
you know, end it all.
And she...
we had this prescription
for morphine...
so there was this option.
So anyway...
the pain got real bad.
and I asked her, and she said...
she said that
when you're dying...
you have a responsibility
to the living...
and I was amazed that
she said that, you know?
The way that she felt.
And I was thinking that we have
a responsibility to the dead.
The living, I mean.
God, does any of this
make any sense?
Yeah, maybe.
I can't tell now, Jamie.
Can I call you back
later today...
or tomorrow,
or whatever it is?
Yeah. Call me.
Please call me whenever.
Just... are you sure
you're all right?
Well, my brain is trying to find
a way out of its skull...
and I'm afraid
of just about everything...
but I'm OK.
Get some sleep, OK?
I will.
Call me if you can't.
Thanks, Vicky.
Good night.
Good night.
Hey, coach.
Where are you going?
Come on. Inge just got here.
I want you to meet her.
You can't take off now.
Things are just getting good.
You know, Allagash.
I just realized something.
What's that?
You and Amanda...
would make a terrific couple.
Bread.
What was your first clue?
Could I have some?
Just a roll or something?
Get out of here.
I'll trade you my sunglasses.
It's 6 A.M.
on the island of Manhattan.
In the dawn's early light...
you can imagine the first ship
from the old world...
sailing slowly up the biggest
river they had ever seen.
That was almost how you felt the
first time you saw the city...
from the window
of a Greyhound...
like you were looking
at a new world...
waiting to be discovered.
And that's how it looks
to you now.
But you have to go slowly.
You'll have to learn everything
all over again.
Hey!
Why so sad?
What?
Why so sad?
I'm not sad.
Trouble with a woman?
What?
Trouble with a woman?
Something like that.
You want another drink?
Last call.
Sure. Why not?
You are not the kind of guy
who would be...
at a place like this
at this time in the morning...
but here you are,
and you can't say...
that the terrain
is entirely unfamiliar...
although you must admit
that the details are fuzzy.
You're the kind of guy
who wakes up early...
to the smell of bread
from the local bakery...
goes out, brings back the paper
and a couple of croissants...
to your wife Amanda.
She left you
a couple of months ago...
and here you are.
How did you get here?
All might come clear...
if you could just slip
into the bathroom...
and do a little more
Bolivian marching powder...
but, then again, this epidemic
lack of clarity...
is a result of
too much of that already.
Your brain is composed
of brigades...
of tiny Bolivian soldiers.
They're tired and muddy...
from their long march
through the night...
and they're hungry.
They need to be fed.
They need the Bolivian
marching powder.
Hi. Got some blow?
I love drugs.
That's something
we have in common.
Have you ever noticed how
the good words start with "D"?
"D" and L...
You know, drugs,
delight, decadence.
Debauchery.
Dexedrine.
Delectable, debilitated...
deranged.
Delinquent.
Delirium.
And lush and luscious.
Languorous.
Librium.
Libidinous.
What's that?
Horny.
What, do you have a problem
with "H" words?
Shit.
OK, everyone,
the Palladium is now closed.
We'll reopen again
tomorrow night at 11:00...
and we hope to see you then.
Barbara! Barbara!
Where did Allagash go?
He left a couple of hours ago.
Shit.
Shit!
Hey. Hey...
Morning. Listen, I only have
$1.50 in my pocket.
- When we get to my apartment...
- Go fuck yourself.
Thank you.
Yeah.
What time is it?
Oh, shit.
Oh, shit.
Is she there yet?
Is she looking for me?
Oh, shit. Oh, Christ, Meg.
I'm all right.
OK, I'm coming in.
"The Post" is the most shameful
of your several addictions.
You're a secret fan
of killer bees, hero cops...
sex fiends, lottery winners...
teenage terrorists,
Liz Taylor...
tough tots, sicko creeps,
living nightmares...
life on other planets,
spontaneous human combustion...
coma babies.
Morning. Thanks.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Good morning.
Tardy, tardy. Very tardy.
Good morning, Mr. Conway.
May I speak to you
in my office?
Close the door.
How nice to see you, Jamie.
Thank you, Clara.
Nice to see you.
I wasn't sure you were keeping
office hours anymore.
Sit down.
Mr. Vogel has decided to move
the French piece up an issue.
That means I need it on my desk
before you leave today.
Is that clear?
Quite clear.
I want every single fact
verified...
as per standard procedure.
I want the spelling
of every name double-checked.
I want every accent in place.
I want every figure correct.
If the writer gives
the population of France...
I want you to find
the exact figure...
man, woman, and child...
down to the last baby born
the hour we go to press.
Is that clear?
Crystalline.
Because if there is
one single mistake...
in that article,
whose fault will it be?
The writer's fault?
My fault.
Exactly. And if I were you...
I would be on the phone
to Paris now...
where it is 5:00
in the afternoon...
and where everyone
is thinking of going home.
Of course, we know
from your resume...
that you're fluent in French...
so this will be
no problem for you.
Absolutely. No problem.
My desk.
My ass.
What?
Alors, vite, vite.
Allons-y. Travaillez.
Still got that nasty
sinus problem, I see.
Records, hi.
This is Yasu Wade
from "Gotham Magazine."
Jamie, listen, do you want
some help with that?
- No, Meg. Thanks, I'm fine.
- I'm not real busy.
- Are you sure?
- Yeah. I'm sure. Absolutely.
There's a certain
shabby nobility...
in failing all by myself.
Well, if you can call me back,
I'll be here until about...
Yeah, hi, Eleanor? Listen,
can you get those calls...
through to Paris
for me this morning?
Right. Yeah.
The same two ministries.
Oh, and I need you...
to get ahold
of John Martin for me.
Right. You got that number?
OK. Thanks.
Richard Rose.
Richard B. Rose.
Thanks. Thanks a lot.
Jesus Christ.
Hello.
"Ne kee tay pa"?
Oh! Ne quittez pas.
Oui, je... oui.
Why did I put knowledge
of French on my resume?
Jamie, you don't speak French?
Pardon?
Oui. Je suis
Monsieur Jamie Conway...
des Etats-Unis.
Oui. Je travaille
sur le, uh, essai...
de, uh, politique?
Shit. I mean, merde.
I mean, pardon?
De pol... hello?
Hello?
Line went dead.
Mr. Vogel. May I help you?
No, thank you.
- Clara?
- Oh, hello, Mr. Vogel.
Headache?
Yeah.
I need to go to the deli,
get a little nourishment.
- You want anything?
- I'd love a cheese danish.
All right, OK.
Anybody else want anything?
No, thank you.
- Last chance!
- No, thanks.
Megan, if anybody calls,
I'll be right back.
Mr. Tyler.
How's the travel section?
Fine, fine.
Big piece on Tibet this week.
How's that beautiful wife
of yours?
She's fine.
She's in Paris, modeling.
Really? I could have sworn...
I saw her modeling some clothes
on a TV talk show this weekend.
No, it must have been a rerun.
I'd know if she was in town.
Yeah, you'd certainly hope so.
So how's Clara behaving?
Same as usual.
Like a fourth-grade tyrant.
I've always wanted
to ask somebody in fact...
does Clara piss
in the men's room...
or the ladies'?
I don't believe she pisses.
Marvelous.
So how do you like it
down here in fact?
All in all,
I'd rather be in fiction.
Oh, you write, don't you?
That seems to be
a matter of opinion.
Read Hazlitt, that's my advice.
Read Hazlitt and write
before breakfast every day.
OK, what can I do you for?
Pastrami on rye.
Want a little mustard
today, Jamie?
Yeah, mustard.
Mustard and butter.
And butter.
Just like your mother made it?
What do you know about it?
That's how my mother
used to make it.
Hey, listen,
while you were out...
I took two messages for you...
one from Monsieur something at
the department of something...
and one from
your brother Michael.
Really?
Yeah. He said it was urgent.
Right.
Is Vogel still in there?
Yeah.
I wonder what's going on.
Allo?
Practicing our French, are we?
No, excuse me, ma'am.
I thought it was
my call from Paris.
Can you spare a few moments
to see me in my office?
Sure.
I'm about to find out.
Close the door.
Mr. Vogel?
Good afternoon.
Something wrong?
Did you verify the facts
in this article?
Frecipitate or precipitous?
Oh, yeah. Yes, yes. I remember.
Mr. Vogel called me up
and expressed his concern...
about the president's
correct usage of English.
In this piece...
the president warns against
precipitous action.
Mr. Vogel felt that
"precipitate" was the word...
the president was looking for.
- Correct.
- Go on.
Well, I called the White House,
tried to explain to them...
the importance
of the distinction.
I spent several hours on hold.
So, finally,
with the composing room...
and everybody screaming
for the final pages...
I checked with
Webster's third edition...
which listed them
as synonymous.
The third edition?
Yeah. I know that
the second edition...
gives different meanings
for the words...
but the third edition
is a lot racier.
Hello!
John Martin. Hi.
Jamie Conway here.
Jamie. "Gotham Magazine."
Right, right. Yeah, listen.
I'm checking facts...
on that piece you wrote
about the French elections.
Yeah. It's great, John.
It's good.
It's really good. Right.
Where did you get this
about the French government...
owning a controlling interest
in Paramount Pictures?
No. John, I can't...
I can't run
a line through that.
The next three paragraphs
depend on it.
No, I just need to know
if it's true or not.
You heard it where?
At a fucking cocktail party?
No, John, no. Don't hang up.
All right, get the door.
I'll hold.
Just call me back, all right?
This is going
to take all night.
Jamie.
I want it on my desk
before you leave.
I've left my door unlocked.
Jimmy, good to see you.
- Mr. Allagash. How you doing?
- Good, thank you.
Can I get a vodka on the rocks,
and can I borrow your phone?
- You got it.
- Thank you.
Hello. Hello.
What the fuck are you doing
at the office?
We have plans tonight.
Monstrous events are scheduled.
What happened to you
Saturday night, Allagash?
I had to walk home.
I couldn't pay for a cab.
- I left.
- Yeah, I know.
I, believe it or not...
took this bimbo back
to her place on Fifth Avenue.
Did some of her
off-the-boat-quality drugs.
We scooped it out of
these tall Ming vases...
did it off
each other's naked bodies.
Fucking beautiful, man.
Bullshit.
No, it's true.
God, I hate you.
Well, let me tell you
about tonight.
Elaine and Theresa,
they're dying to meet you.
Theresa's father
owns an oil company...
and Elaine is soon to be in
a major television commercial.
And I think I have
cornered a big chunk...
of Bolivia's national product.
No, look, I'll be working
on this thing most of the night.
Then I'm gonna go home
and get some sleep.
Give me a time.
I'll pick you up.
Call me in half an hour.
I have to finish this.
I'll see you in a while.
Bye-bye.
Thanks a lot, Jimmy.
There you go, Clara.
Read it and weep.
Good night.
"He was expecting her...
"on the afternoon flight
from Paris...
"when she called to say
she would not be coming home.
"' Taking a later flight?'
he asked.
'No,' she said,
'I'm starting a new life."'
Screw it.
Who is it?
Narcotics squad.
We're soliciting donations...
for children around the world
without drugs.
Would you open
the door, please?
Yeah, one minute.
Hang on a second.
Ready to roll?
The girls are waiting.
Right. Where are we rolling to?
Into the heart of the night.
Wherever there are dances
to be danced...
drugs to be hoovered,
women to be Allagashed.
It's a dirty job, Jamie,
but somebody's got to do it.
Speaking of drugs,
are you in possession?
Negative.
Not even a single line
for young Tad?
Sorry.
- Not even a mirror to lick?
- Jesus. Help yourself.
Where the fuck
did you get this?
I told you, I inherited that
from my grandmother.
Christ. Jesus,
I got to change this shirt.
There's something on here.
Yeah. That's dust, Tad.
The dust in this apartmenfs...
probably got better
coke content...
than some of the shit
we buy by the gram.
Did you know that 90% of
the average household dust...
is composed of
human epidermal matter?
That's skin to you.
Maybe that's why I keep
thinking about Amanda.
She left her skin behind.
Doing a little writing, are we?
Yeah! "Dead Amanda."
I told you,
you'd get more nookie...
than you could shake
a fucking stick at...
if you just told people
your wife was dead.
I hit the wrong key.
It's the sympathy vote
that counts.
It's a lot better than saying
she fit you with horns...
and kited off to Paris.
Are you sure you have no drugs
in this apartment?
There's some Robitussin
in the bathroom.
I'm real disappointed
in you, coach.
I always figured you
for the kind of guy...
who'd save something
for a rainy day.
I've fallen in
with bad companions.
Maybe Amanda died
in a plane crash.
She was coming
home from Paris...
on the day of your
first anniversary.
That's fucking beautiful.
Come on, Warner.
Answer the goddamn phone.
Shit!
I know that asshole's
sitting up there in his loft...
on top of a pile of toot,
ignoring the goddamn phone.
It's 11:00.
It's a little too early
for Odeon...
but I figure
once we're downtown...
it'll be happy hunting ground
for sneeze and squeeze.
Let's go. You look beautiful.
- Can I ask you one question?
- Absolutely.
Do you ever have this
nearly overwhelming desire...
to just spend
a quiet evening at home?
No.
Elaine! Theresa!
This is Jamie Conway.
- Hi.
- Hi, Jamie.
Aren't you
Amanda White's boyfriend?
Husband. Yeah, I was.
You didn't hear?
She was in Paris showing
the fall collection.
She got hit by a burst
of terrorist crossfire.
Palestinians, French police.
It was a real fluke thing.
Senseless death.
She was an innocent bystander.
Jamie doesn't like
to talk about it.
Jeez, that's terrible.
Yeah.
A tragedy is what it is.
I have to take care
of some business.
But you'll
take care of him? Good.
Is that true?
Not really, no.
What is Amanda doing
these days?
She's in Paris.
She's doing the
Oscar de la Renta collection.
Wait a minute, is she alive?
We sort of split up.
Too bad for you. She was yummy.
Sort of the slinky
girl-next-door look.
Very ingenuous.
I don't understand this.
Neither do I.
- Aren't you a writer?
- Yeah, I do some writing.
More of an editor, actually.
"Gotham Magazine."
Oh, God. I've been reading it
all my life.
I mean, my parents get it.
I always read it
at the gynecologist':
What's your name again?
Should I know you?
I haven't actually
been published yet.
They have a couple
of my short stories.
I got my fingers crossed.
A matter of time.
Don't you want a drink?
Yeah. That would be great.
Oh, too late. Bingo.
Oh, shit!
Seems like I spend about
half my life in bathrooms.
Hey, Bruno, two vodkas.
You got it.
Hey, Jamie!
Hey, Rich!
When did you get back?
I can't hear you.
Where's Amanda?
I'm sorry. That's terrible.
Jamie, I'm so sorry.
Hey, two Stolis on the rocks.
Hey, here we go, ladies.
Did you have the vodka,
or did you have the vodka?
- No margarita?
- No margarita. Vodka. Vodka.
Thanks.
Jamie.
What did you say to them?
What?
What did you say
to Rich and Kathy?
I told them Amanda died
of leukemia.
What?
I told them Amanda died
of leukemia.
That's not funny.
My mom died of cancer.
Jamie!
I'm sorry.
What was that all about?
I just said something
in really bad taste.
Oh, Jamie.
I'm so sorry about Amanda.
She was such a pretty girl,
and you made a great couple.
It's all right, Kathy.
She's not dead.
- What? She's not dead?
- No. She's not dead.
He's pulling your leg.
She's in Paris.
She's doing a shoot.
Well, did you break up
or something?
Sort of. Maybe. I don't know.
Oh. Want to dance?
No, not right now. Maybe later?
- OK.
- All right, later.
I tried.
Where are the girls?
- Bath room.
- What, without me?
- I guess so.
- You gonna come?
No, I'll catch you
on the rebound.
All right.
Excuse me, ladies, coming in.
- Hi. How you doing?
- Fine.
All right.
Hey, save some for me.
Want to join the party?
No, thanks. Bon appetit.
It's very late.
You don't remember
getting home...
but you dream
about the coma baby.
What? What do you want?
You going to come out?
No way, Jose.
I like it in here.
Everything I need is pumped in.
Mom's on her way out.
Hey, if the old lady goes,
then I'm going with her.
Don't be like that.
I can't hear you.
I can't hear you.
Come out.
Listen to me,
you got to come out.
Open up. It's the doctor.
They're never gonna
take me alive.
Hello?
Jamie?
Oui.
Hi. It's Megan.
I just wanted to make
sure you were awake.
Oh, yeah.
What, are you kidding me, Megan?
I'm making breakfast.
I'm making sausage and eggs.
Look, I hope you don't mind...
but I didn't want you getting
in Dutch with Clara again.
She's not here yet.
But I just wanted to make sure
you were awake.
OK. You sure you're awake?
It certainly feels like it.
Headache, queasy stomach...
all the vital signs.
I'll be right there.
I'll get it. Hello?
Michael, hello.
No, he's not here yet,
but I expect him any minute.
He didn't get back to you
yesterday?
I told him you called.
Yes, absolutely, I'll tell him.
Listen, you just missed
your brother.
You should call him right away.
It sounds important.
- Where's Clara?
- She's still not here.
I just had a call from Clara.
She's sick.
She won't be in today.
Nothing fatal, I hope.
She asked me to distribute
the assignments.
Did you finish
the French piece?
More or less.
Jeez, if she's not coming in,
maybe I can go in...
take one last look,
make sure it's OK.
She had it picked up early
and sent over to typesetting.
She even had a photocopy
messengered to her apartment.
Jesus! Why does
she hate me so much?
It's not my fault
she never got married.
I think she's secretly
determined to get me fired.
Not possible.
The magazine has a tradition...
of never acknowledging
its mistakes.
She's not going to fire you.
I'm not so sure.
She's got a heart
like a twelve-minute egg.
Let's see, now...
first in a long series
on cancer research.
Megan.
An inventor who just received
his 1aath patent...
for a rotary nose hair
clipping device. Yasu.
Here's an amusing one
for you, Jamie.
Meeting of the society
of polar explorers...
at the Sherry Netherland.
Good. So there was
such an event.
And you did serve...
smoked emperor penguin
on Triscuits. Good.
All right. Wait.
One more thing.
Yeah. Is it true that somebody
wore a headdress...
made out of walrus skin?
I'll be damned.
No, that's it.
Great. Thanks. Bye.
All right. Facts are stranger
than fiction.
OK, the polar explorer piece
is put to bed.
I'm going to grab a bite.
Anybody want anything?
I'd love a bagel,
toasted, no butter.
You would. Bagel, toasted,
no butter, got it.
Good afternoon.
Mr. Hardy.
I was just thinking
it could use some fish.
All water coolers
could use some fish.
The old crew
in the great days...
of this magazine
would have thought of it.
Siamese fighting fish
in the water cooler.
What's your name?
I know.
It's on the tip of my tongue.
- Jamie Conway.
- Jamie Conway.
Jamie Conway.
Didn't you send a story to us
in the fiction department?
Yeah. Yes.
Yes, seven months ago.
Did you get a chance
to read it?
Sort of a lower-case
Scott Fitzgerald...
without the crackup.
Yeah, I guess
you could say that.
Oh, you got a cough.
I knew Fitzgerald's
friend Bunny Wilson.
Yeah, I know.
The only great
American man of letters.
Where are you headed?
Just going out to lunch.
Good. I'll join you.
Refresh my memory.
What's it about?
A young writer
right out of college...
goes to Kansas City,
meets a beautiful girl.
They get married,
come back to New York City.
He encourages her to model.
They start going out at night,
start doing drugs.
You have
a very interesting style.
Very interesting
sense of story.
Good sense of character,
a sense of place.
I assume it's autobiographical.
- Give me a couple more of these.
- I'm still nursing this one.
It reminds me
of the kind of stuff...
I used to write
when I was a kid.
I started off as an office boy
at the magazine...
got published every so often.
I used to write satirical
sketches on Manhattan highlife.
I know, I used to read
that stuff. Amazing.
Yeah. A lot more fun
than being an editor.
All I do as an editor...
is read a lot of undisciplined,
untalented crap.
Your table's ready, Mr. Hardy.
Thanks.
Don't forget the two drinks.
Come on. Right over here.
This way.
So, what are you
working on now?
I'm thinking about
writing a novel.
I've been making some notes.
I'm just having a hard time
actually sitting down...
and writing, you know?
My wife left me, so...
it sounds corny, but I've
been doing a lot of suffering.
Have you ever considered
getting an MBA?
Absolutely not.
I'm not necessarily saying
go into business.
No, but write about it.
That's the stuff.
Right now the guys
who understand business...
will be writing
the new literature.
Money is poetry now.
I don't want to believe that.
It may be true...
but, no, I don't want
to believe that.
Look, don't be seduced
by all that crap...
about garrets and alt
like I was.
Write about money.
Eric, a couple more.
I knew some of the giants.
I knew Bill Faulkner, you know.
Oh, God, we had
a helluva lot of fun.
We used to go to Musso's
and get pissed for lunch...
and roar around.
Talk about everything
under the sun...
women, life, death, art.
But most of all,
we talked about work...
about commitment...
about not selling out.
I got to go.
No! One more.
Have one more for the road.
No, I can't. Alex, I can't.
So you think I got some talent?
I'm not just wasting my time?
How do I know whether
you're wasting your time?
You can't tell
from one little story.
Anyone can write
one little story.
Let me..
No, no. Save it. This is on me.
It's all right.
Thanks.
Amanda.
Amanda.
- Amanda!
- In here!
Hey. How are you?
Amanda.
Sorry I took so long.
It's pouring rain.
I couldn't get a cab.
It's OK. Here.
It's OK. We're just starting.
Here, put this
all over your face.
This is my husband Jamie.
This is the writer, the one
I was telling you about.
- This is Luigi.
- How you doing?
And Lucas.
It's just a head?
I thought it was the body.
I was looking forward
to seeing you lying naked...
face-down in a vat
of latex batter.
No, just my head.
Wait a minute.
How do I breathe?
We'll put some straws
in your nose.
Sounds familiar.
I didn't know
you were gonna stay that long.
You never said anything
about being there that long.
I checked the messages.
There's a party at Magique
tonight, if you want to go...
and your agent called.
She said that your flight leaves
at 1a: aa tomorrow.
And she said that
you should be prepared...
to stay the full two weeks.
You never said anything
about staying that long.
I didn't hear anything
about staying that long.
You all right?
What's the matter?
She's OK.
Hey, Amanda! Hey! You OK?
She's OK. Don't be scared.
All right, fine.
Are you all right?
I love you.
Just relax, OK? Relax.
It's OK. Amanda, I love you.
She's back.
She's in town.
Click modeling agency.
May I help you?
This is Andrew Carrington,
the photographer.
Right. I'm just in town
for a few days...
and I'm interested
in working with Amanda White.
- Is she in New York?
- Yes, as a matter of fact.
Yes, she's doing
the Oscar de la Renta show...
at the Parsons School of Design
Thursday afternoon.
Marvelous. Terrific. Thanks.
Yeah.
Mr. Conway's on the line.
I'll take it. Jamie!
Listen, I gotta talk to you.
Meet me at Cybelle's.
- I'm really busy right now.
- You gotta meet me now!
- What's the matter?
- I'll explain when I see you.
OK? Just be there. Bye.
Camelia!
I'm taking the rest
of the afternoon off.
How you doing?
Oh. Double vodka, please.
- Hey. What's the big deal?
- I need a favor.
That's funny. So do I.
What you drinking?
Double vodka.
Can I have the same, please?
Thank you.
All right, you go first.
What's yours?
Tonight I have
a very steamy engagement...
with the glorious Inge.
- Which one's Inge?
- The aspiring actress.
New York City's full
of aspiring actresses.
Inge was also Miss August.
"Penthouse" Miss August?
You got it.
- The one with the parrot?
- That's Inge.
Unfortunately, my cousin Vicky
is in town today.
She's a grad student
at Princeton.
She's here on some
academic gig at NYU.
I promised her
I'd pick her up early...
take her to dinner.
This is where you got
to help me out, coach.
Why do I envision
an overweight prig with glasses?
Hey! She's an Allagash.
She has Allagash genes.
She's a very attractive lady.
She'll also inherit a little
of the Allagash money.
That's all right.
You can't let me down, coach.
Anything I possess...
including some of
Bolivia's finest, is yours.
All right.
OK, I'll tell you what.
I'll have dinner
with your canine cousin.
Good.
If you get me into
the Oscar de la Renta show...
at the Parson Art School
Thursday afternoon.
Amanda's in town.
She's working that show.
I know.
OK.
Excuse me.
You wouldn't happen
to be Vicky, would you?
- Allagash's cousin?
- Yeah.
Hi. Jamie.
He told you, right?
- He did.
- Great.
Good. Great.
Shit. Sorry I'm so late.
It's OK.
I was just looking around.
This is a great bookstore.
Yeah. It's a little early
for dinner.
You want to do something?
Want to get a drink?
All right.
Or we could just go for a walk.
All right.
Where are you from?
Up near Marblehead.
Allagash country.
How about you?
Bucks County. Your parents?
They divorced three years ago.
Yours?
A happy marriage.
You're lucky. You have
any brothers or sisters?
Yeah. I have a brother.
Oh, that's nice.
I have a brother, too.
So, what did Tad
tell you about me?
Not much. Not much.
What did he say?
He raved.
He tried to build you up.
I was expecting
a field hockey player...
with thick glasses and lockjaw.
What did he tell you about me?
Not much.
Come on.
He said you were
a cross between...
a young
F. Scott Fitz-Hemingway...
and the later Wittgenstein.
That's it? Nothing else?
Nothing else.
Tad is a great guy.
Tad is a hell of a guy.
You got to admire his style,
his joie de vivre...
his savoir-faire,
his sprezzatura.
He's not necessarily a man
for a heart-to-healt...
but he's been a good friend
to me in a time of need...
and he's generous
in his own careless way.
- Are you two very close?
- I think he's an ass.
Exactly.
I got to go wash my hands.
I'll be right back.
Let's see if it's possible
to get through an evening...
without chemicals for a change.
So tell me about your job.
I guess I'm supposed
to be pretty impressed, huh?
Don't be.
I don't like it much, actually.
They don't like me much,
so it works out.
I know people who would kill
for a job like that.
Actually, it's pretty tedious.
When I first started
on the magazine...
I thought it'd be my first step
towards literary glory...
and it was just
a matter of time before...
I joined the roster
of famous writers.
All I do is pore over...
encyclopedias
and phone books...
and dictionaries
and government pamphlets.
It's not very creative.
I've only known you
for a couple of hours...
but that doesn't really seem
like your kind of job to me.
Yeah, I don't think it is.
Well, I really got to go now.
This is my car.
I wish you didn't.
Yeah, me, too.
- You have my number, right?
- Right.
You should call me.
Yeah, I'd like to.
Drive safe.
- Jamie.
- Hey.
Clara's here,
and she's in a rage.
She says the French piece
is a mess...
but it's too late
to pull it from the issue.
She said it was a mess?
Yep. She's got Vogel
in her office right now.
How bad could it be?
You got most of it done,
didn't you?
I really don't know.
She said it was a mess?
A mess.
I would like to see you
in my office immediately.
She said it was a mess.
I would like to know
what happened.
I screwed up?
You screwed up.
May I be so bold as to ask
for a little elaboration?
Really, I'm interested.
Just how did you
"screw up" exactly?
Well?
Do you realize
just how serious this is?
You have endangered
the reputation of this magazine.
We have built a reputation
for scrupulous accuracy...
with regard to matters of fact.
Do you know that in fifty years
of publication...
there has been
only one printed retraction?
Can I ask what errors
you found exactly?
Two accents reversed...
an electoral district
in central France...
incorrectly identified
as northern...
a minister ascribed
to the wrong department...
This is just what I've
been able to find so far.
I'm scared to death of what
I'll uncover as we go along.
The proofs are a mess.
I can't tell what you've
verified and what you haven't.
The point is, you have not
followed standard procedure...
which, by this time, should be
second nature to you...
which procedure is thoroughly
outlined in your manual...
which procedure
is the net result...
of years of collective labor...
and the proper application
of which...
ensures that
insofar as possible...
errors of fact do not appear
in this magazine!
Do you have anything
to say for yourself?
I don't think so.
This isn't the first time.
I've given you the benefit
of the doubt before.
You seem to be unable
to perform the duties...
required for this job.
I'd like to hear
what you have to say.
I assume I'm fired.
That's correct.
Effective immediately.
AWthing else?
I'm sorry.
I know you are.
Well?
It was nice working with you.
No. She didn't. She couldn't!
What exactly did she say?
The gist of it was
that I'm fired.
You didn't have enough time.
Everybody knows John Martin's
research is sloppy.
She can't do that.
Or we could take it up
with the arbitration committee.
Look, it doesn't matter, OK?
I'm gonna clean this up
tomorrow.
Jamie.
Listen.
Can we have lunch tomorrow?
I'd really like to talk to you.
Yeah, Meg. Sure.
Are you all right?
Oh, God, I forgot to tell you.
Your brother called again.
He says he's got to talk to you.
I don't want to talk
to my brother.
Lunch. Tomorrow.
Don't forget.
You want to buy a ferret?
No. No, thanks.
Loose joints.
Genuine Hawaiian sens.
His name is Fred.
What else you got?
Monkeys, boas, coke...
How much?
$50 a half.
Half what?
Half borax, half mannitol?
Pure stuff, uncut.
Sure.
No. I can't...
I can't make the fifty.
If it's fifty...
if it's fifty,
I can't buy Fred.
- You gonna buy Fred, too?
- How much is he?
I'll make you a good deal.
How many more?
One more. Just one second.
One second. This is it.
Hey, you want to step
a little lighter?
Here we are.
It's locked.
No problem.
All right. Calm down, Fred.
- Give me the leash.
- I don't have it.
- I gave it to you!
- I don't have it.
All right. Let me just
put him in her drawer.
Hold this.
All right. Calm down, Fred.
You're about to become
the mascot...
for the whole department...
a real, live ferret
for the fact-checkers.
OK, let him out.
Fuck, no. You let him out.
OK, but hold the flashlight.
I'll hold the flashlight.
Alright!
OK. Easy now.
Hi, Fred. Hi, buddy.
Oh, Jesus! Get it off!
Throw it!
Get it Off!
Throw it!
Not at me!
Oh, God!
Jamie, get this
fucking thing off!
I can't!
I'm bleeding here, Tad!
Jesus Christ!
Get the fuck off of me!
Jamie!
God!
Come here, let me see.
Oh, shit!
Jesus. Look at this.
One more inch.
Oh, God, I...
Hey, what's going on in here?
Oh, fuck.
Is the door locked?
Oh, shit!
I know you're in there!
Pygmies.
I'm surrounded by pygmies.
It's OK.
Alex. Hi.
I lost my wallet in here
this morning.
I just came back to find it.
Got it!
He found it.
I knew the giants.
Yeah.
I worked with the giants,
guys whose words...
Words went out
into the world...
and kicked some ass.
All right, OK.
Girls, then, women...
whatever...
Lillian Hellman,
Katherine Anne Porter...
Anais Nin, Dorothy Parker.
I'm talking talent here...
male or female...
not like these precious turds
around today.
- Goddamn pygmies...
- Fred.
And their pygmy talent.
Jesus!
What the hell is that thing?
Jesus!
Oh, no.
Great. Let's get
the hell out of here.
No, I can't
leave him like this.
Do you want to explain
to everybody why we're here?
- Let's go.
- Shit! Just a minute.
Are you all right, Alex?
- He's fine.
- Get the suitcase!
All right, where's Fred?
He went down the hall.
Fred! Freddie!
Fuck Fred!
Let's get out of here.
You're on your own, Fred.
Wait!
Fitz...
and Faulkner.
Faulkner
and Theodore... Dreiser.
I can't remember when I had
my last tetanus shot.
I wonder if it needs stitches.
Let me see.
Nah, I don't think so.
If Fred was rabid, he wouldn't
have been so friendly...
before you put him
in the suitcase.
I hear rabies shots
are really painful.
They put needles in your dick
or something.
Here. Give me your hand.
Oh, great! Oh, shit!
So much for antiseptic.
Now for anesthetic.
I can see the headline
in the "Post" now...
"Faulkner friend falls afoul
of furry fiend."
"De casibus firorum
illustrium"...
as we used to say
in the old Latin class.
What does that mean?
Something to do with
the fall of famous men.
- Hey, don't answer that!
- I think it's Warner!
- Heartbreak Hotel.
- Hi, is Jamie there?
Yo, Michael!
I'm not home. No.
How's it going
on the home front?
Yeah. No.
Jamie's not here right now.
Yeah. Amanda's not here either.
Me? I'm just sitting here,
watering the plants.
You know, they got
this real thirsty jade tree.
Yeah. Would I kid you, Michael?
Yeah. No, I think they took off
to the Hamptons.
Yeah. Look, Michael,
I got to take off, OK?
I'm gonna leave a message.
I promise.
OK. Bye-bye.
What's wrong with Michael?
He sounds really upset.
I don't want to talk about it.
OK.
I almost forgot.
Here's the invitation
to the fashion show.
Jesus Christ.
Thanks a lot for taking Vicky
off my hands last night.
Inge is eternally grateful.
Oh, no. My pleasure.
Really? You got lucky, did you?
None of your goddamn business.
Jesus.
You never really liked
Amanda much, did you?
God knows she wasn't
hard to look at.
I don't know why you felt like
you had to marry her, though.
Yeah. I've been wondering
the same thing.
Didn't you see the sign
on her forehead?
What sign?
"Space to let,
long and short-term leasing."
We met in a bar.
It was too dark to read.
Your invitation, please.
Have they started yet?
Just. You'll have to sit
in the back, though.
Double vodka.
The bar's closed.
One for my date, too.
Amanda.
Amanda, I want an explanation!
Amanda! I want an answer.
I want an explanation.
I want to know why.
I just want to know why.
Amanda, I want answers!
I just want to know why!
Amanda, you owe me.
You owe me!
You owe me an explanation!
- Let's go!
- That's my wife!
You're out of here, pal!
Amanda! Amanda!
All right,
you're out of here, buddy!
Stay out of here!
Jamie!
Jamie, stop!
Jamie, stop! It's me... Michael!
Remember me?
I remember something
about a lunch date.
Damn. Damn.
I'm sorry.
By the way,
whatever happened to my bagel...
toasted, no butter?
How about dinner?
One more meal with you
could be the death of me.
Tell me about Amanda.
I get the feeling
something bad happened.
Amanda.
My Amanda, the Amanda
that I fell in love with...
is a fictional character.
I made her up.
She doesn't exist.
I didn't realize this
until another woman...
also named Amanda...
did me in...
with a collect phone call
from Paris.
Mind if I open
another bottle of wine?
- Sure. Go ahead.
- Fabulous.
I'm not sure which one did what
to me, or when she did it...
but I do know I met
one of them in Kansas City.
Did I ever tell you that?
No.
I worked there,
right out of college.
"Kansas City Star."
Hemingway worked there.
It was his first job, too.
Anyway, I met her in a bar
called the Bum Steer.
Anyway, I couldn't
believe my luck.
She walks right up to me...
this gorgeous creature.
I found out later
that she overheard me...
tell the bartender
that I was from New York.
I should've known.
So, within a week,
she moved in with me.
My education, she said,
excited her...
and her desire to educate
herself with my help excited me.
She wanted to better herself.
She had a really
terrible childhood...
really grim.
Divorce.
Stepfathers plural.
Trailer parks, all that shit.
My writing excited her...
and the fact that
she was excited excited me.
We got excited a lot together.
So eight months later,
we decided to move to New York.
That was inevitable.
She wanted to live
a magazine ad.
I wanted to live
a literary cliche.
My parents
weren't exactly thrilled...
with the living-together
arrangement.
But they liked Amanda.
They welcomed her...
welcomed her like
she was a fuckin' refugee...
especially my mother.
Anyway, as soon as
we got here...
she was desperate
to get married.
She was worried
I was gonna leave her.
No. I think she was worried that
my book would be published...
I'd become famous,
and I'd find somebody else.
Anyway, after a year
of living together...
eight months there,
four months here...
and the way she was behaving...
"Marry me, marry me..."
we decided it was the thing
to do, so we did it.
So there she was...
Mrs. Conway, on my arm.
People were knocked out by her.
All my friends said,
"God, she could be a model..."
which was exactly
what she wanted to hear.
So one day she takes it
upon herself...
to stop off
at a modeling agency...
and fuck me if she doesn't
come home with a contract...
like that.
They said she was a natural.
So then her career,
like, takes off.
She's on magazine covers,
commercials, layouts.
All her dreams are coming true.
Not true of mine.
I mean, I was trying to write.
I was working on a novel.
Submitted some short stories
to the magazine.
But our life was really
complicated then, you know?
She was invited everywhere
that I wasn't invited...
and I was invited a lot.
And getting out of bed
at 6 A.M. to work on a novel...
just kept getting harder...
and harder and harder.
And then
there was this change...
this really subtle change.
I know when I was at work...
she was snooping
around my desk.
She was trying to see
if I, the writer...
was making any progress.
I know this because
she started smiling...
when I started telling people
at cocktail parties...
that I was working on a book.
'Cause then,
about two months ago...
she was packing for a trip
to Paris for the collection.
She started to cry.
I asked her
what was the matter.
She said she was worried
about the flight.
She was nervous
about the flight.
By the time the cab came,
she was fine.
We kissed at the door.
She told me
to water the plants.
The night before
she was due home, she called.
Her voice sounded peculiar.
She said she wasn't
coming home this time.
I didn't understand.
She said her career was
really taking off over there.
So...
a couple of days later...
this man calls.
He said he was her lawyer.
Easiest thing
all the way around, he said...
was for me to sue her...
for sexual abandonment.
A legal term, he said.
My friend Allagash says...
that not only was her leaving
not surprising...
it was inevitable.
And my heartbreak
is just a variation...
on the same old story.
Where's the john?
Right in there.
Are you all right?
You OK?
I'm fine. Yeah, I'm fine.
You're too high.
Contraceptive jelly.
"Unscented.
Colorless. Stainless."
This is good news.
"Megan Avery.
Lithium carbonate.
"Take four times daily."
Tetracycline.
Valium.
Valium. Victory. Valium.
You're too high.
You're too high.
You got to come down.
Too high.
- You all right?
- Fine.
Thought I'd get the dishes
out of the way.
That's a good policy.
You want some more wine?
No, I'm not much
of a drinker anymore.
That's also a good policy.
Have you been able
to write at all?
What are you gonna do
in the meantime?
You have anyjob prospects?
I've got some leads.
I know an editor
at Harper and Row...
who'd be happy to talk to you.
Whoa. Megan...
I appreciate your efficiency...
but getting fired
has wiped my ass out...
and I'd just as soon
put the prospect...
of any future employment
on hold right now.
But thank you.
Thanks very much.
If you need a little money
to tide you over...
don't hesitate to ask.
You're terrific.
I just want to see you
get back on your feet.
You are a rare woman.
Everything's gonna work out.
A rare woman.
Everything's
gonna be all right.
No. That's not what you want.
Jamie, that's
not what you want.
- Yeah.
- No.
No, no. Calm down. Calm down.
Poor baby.
Poor baby. Poor little baby.
I got to go.
Oh, fuck. I got to go.
Jamie, are you all right?
I'm fine.
Thanks for the linguine
and sympathy.
Jamie. Are you all right?
I'm OK! I'm OK!
Michael.
How did you get in here,
Michael?
I talked to the super.
He let me in.
Sneaky little shit.
What the hell's
going on with you?
I've been trying to track
you down for over a week!
I called your office,
I called here.
- When did you get into the city?
- Today! You saw me today!
I thought you were
somebody else.
Don't give me that bullshit!
I left about 150 messages
at your office.
Then I go to your office
this morning...
and they tell me that,
as of yesterday...
you're no longer employed there.
What the fuck is goin' on?
Why do you want
to see me about?
I don't want to see you.
I'd just as soon leave you here
to drown in coke...
or whatever it is you're doing,
but Dad's worried about you...
and I'm worried about Dad.
Why? How is Dad?
What do you care?
Dad's in California
on business.
At least,
he was until last night.
He called me to make sure
you got home for the weekend.
Since you never call or answer,
here I am...
and you're coming back with me,
whether you want to or not.
- OK.
- Do you hear me?
OK!
Tomorrow's the anniversary.
One year,
in case you've forgotten.
We're gonna spread her ashes
in the lake...
and Dad wants you to be there.
Jamie?
You just forgotten Mom
completely, haven't you?
Don't get righteous with me!
You haven't seen Dad
since last Christmas.
- Shut up!
- Don't tell me to...
Shut up! Shut the fuck up!
OK? I'll be there! Shut up!
Shut up!
Can I make a sandwich?
Help yourself.
Hey, where's Amanda?
Shopping-
At this time of night?
Find everything
you need in there?
Well, the milk is sour.
This bread is moldy.
What the hell do you live on?
A lot of things
that start with
What?
Amanda isn't shopping, Mike.
Amanda left me.
I'm sorry.
I never really liked Amanda
too much, to tell you the truth.
I always thought
she was a fake.
I was just thinking.
When Mom was sick...
Amanda was really cold
and distant, you know?
It's like she resented
Mom dying or something.
Well, do you think
you would've married her...
if Mom hadn't been sick?
Mom never said
it would do her heart good...
to see you get married.
But you wanted her to be happy,
and she wanted you to be happy.
In the end, you might have
confused what she wanted...
with what Amanda wanted.
Hey, you want
a couple of lines?
No. Thanks.
Do you mind
if I take a shower?
No. Would you, Mike?
That'd be great.
You know, Jamie...
it was exactly a year ago today
that you came home.
I'm gonna hop in the shower.
Good.
Have you slept
with a lot of girls?
Mom, really, that's...
Now, come on.
What's the matter?
Yeah.
Yes, Mom.
There have been some girls.
Really?
Mom, I'm not
going into details.
Why not?
It's embarrassing.
No, don't be embarrassed.
Just, you know,
tell me what it's like.
Do you enjoy it?
Yeah, I like it.
You've slept with girls that
you haven't been in love with?
Is it different
when you're in love?
Sure.
It's better.
What about Sally Keegan?
Did you sleep with her?
Once.
The night of the prom.
I thought so.
What about Stephanie Bates?
Oh, God.
How do you know this stuff?
You were the funniest
little boy.
You were an awful baby.
You were a real screamer.
You cried through the night.
There were some nights...
we had to take you out
and put you in the car...
and drive you around
to get you to sleep.
You were something.
Hold my hand!
Hold my hand!
Yes.
The pain...
Mom, please. Let me give you
the morphine, OK?
No, wait! Wait.
Wait. You know
what this is like?
This pain?
This is like
when you were born.
It sounds crazy...
I know, but...
that's exactly what it's like.
It was that bad?
Terrible.
You just didn't want
to come out.
I didn't think
I'd live through it.
Now you know...
why I love you so much...
so much.
Mum?
The pain's going away.
That's good. That's good.
Are you still holding my hand?
Yes, I am.
Good, honey.
Don't let go.
What?
It's Allagash. I'm at a party,
and your presence is requested.
My brother's here right now.
I can't go to any party.
Amanda's here.
Where is it?
2 Staple Street.
I'll be there.
Michael? I'm going out.
Jamie!
Taxi!
It's the best.
Yeah. That one right there.
Barbara?
Where's Allagash?
I think he's somewhere
over there.
Thanks.
I had that imported.
Oh, I'd love to get
some tickets.
Allagash.
Where is she?
Easy, Jamie.
You look ready to detonate.
Whose party is this?
The heir to some
fast-food fortune.
Jamie, I'd like you
to meet Stevie.
You want to dance?
Maybe later.
Where is she?
Your formerly deceased,
not yet ex-wife?
Right.
Let me tell you something.
She didn't come here alone.
She got a new friend.
Some famous French photographer.
She's telling everybody
he's gonna make her a star.
- Hey, Tony.
- Albelt.
So... how's it going?
"How's it 90mg?"
Yeah.
"How's it 90mg?"
Oh, hey. How's it going?
Oh, fuck.
Come on.
Stevie, can you get him
a glass of water.
Here, take my drink.
It's OK. It's OK.
Oh, Jesus.
He got blood on that column.
Out of the way!
Out of the way!
- He's an epileptic.
- I am not.
He's an emotional quadriplegic.
"How's it 90mg?"
I need some help.
Whatever that is.
I can't straighten
everything out...
all in one night.
Hello?
Vicky, sorry for calling
so late... or so early...
or whatever it is. What is it?
Who is this?
It's Jamie.
Oh, Jamie. What time is it?
It's late. I'm in New York.
I just wanted to talk.
Let me guess. You're with Tad?
I was with Tad.
Tad's around here someplace.
Is something wrong?
I just wanted to tell you
that my mom died.
Oh, God. I'm sorry.
- When?
- A year ago.
I didn't tell you before...
so I just wanted
to tell you now.
Seemed important.
I'm sorry.
I tried to block her
out of my mind...
but I think I owe it
to her to remember.
I was thinking tonight.
When she found out
that she had cancer...
she was talking
to Michael and me.
- Michael?
- My brother.
She said if the pain
became unbearable...
she wanted us
to help her...
you know, end it all.
And she...
we had this prescription
for morphine...
so there was this option.
So anyway...
the pain got real bad.
and I asked her, and she said...
she said that
when you're dying...
you have a responsibility
to the living...
and I was amazed that
she said that, you know?
The way that she felt.
And I was thinking that we have
a responsibility to the dead.
The living, I mean.
God, does any of this
make any sense?
Yeah, maybe.
I can't tell now, Jamie.
Can I call you back
later today...
or tomorrow,
or whatever it is?
Yeah. Call me.
Please call me whenever.
Just... are you sure
you're all right?
Well, my brain is trying to find
a way out of its skull...
and I'm afraid
of just about everything...
but I'm OK.
Get some sleep, OK?
I will.
Call me if you can't.
Thanks, Vicky.
Good night.
Good night.
Hey, coach.
Where are you going?
Come on. Inge just got here.
I want you to meet her.
You can't take off now.
Things are just getting good.
You know, Allagash.
I just realized something.
What's that?
You and Amanda...
would make a terrific couple.
Bread.
What was your first clue?
Could I have some?
Just a roll or something?
Get out of here.
I'll trade you my sunglasses.
It's 6 A.M.
on the island of Manhattan.
In the dawn's early light...
you can imagine the first ship
from the old world...
sailing slowly up the biggest
river they had ever seen.
That was almost how you felt the
first time you saw the city...
from the window
of a Greyhound...
like you were looking
at a new world...
waiting to be discovered.
And that's how it looks
to you now.
But you have to go slowly.
You'll have to learn everything
all over again.