My Dinner with Hervé (2018) Movie Script

Everyone else is doing this.

You wanted to see me?

- But you've got...

- Photograph from...

All's well on

the road to Damascus?

Yes.

Break really did me good.

You sure?

One month clean and sober.

Miracles are possible, ma'am.

All right, let's see

if we can find some use

for all this newfound zeal,

shall we?

Now, this Gore Vidal interview?

Got the questions

right here.

Too soft.

The boss wants his head

on a platter.

He doesn't like

senile old poofs

pontificating about

the decline and fall

of his favorite country.

His wife's a Yank, remember?

But Vidal's the real thing.

He's a genius.

- And?

- And so, it's a hatchet job?

You call it what you like.

You get it right,

it's the cover.

All you have to do is string him

up in the town square.

Think you can handle that?

No sweat.

Oh, I almost forgot.

I want you to fit in

another quick little interview

while you're out there.

The most famous dwarf

in the world.

Man with the Golden Gun.

Fantasy Island.

You know,

"The plane, the plane."

I thought he was dead.

Is he not?

It's the 20th anniversary

of the Bond movie.

Funny little story, 500 words,

"Where are they now?"

I've got my hands full

already with the Vidal thing.

Can you not give it

to someone else?

- How about Casey?

- He's refused.

I refuse.

I'm sorry, weren't you

in the middle of thanking me

for saving your ass?

Yes, I was.

Oh, and the dwarf piece?

Make it funny.

All expenses to L.A.

Very nice.

Well, it was only

a matter of time.

You're finally going up

in the world.

Oh, well, surely you mean down,

in the case of the midget.

Casey, will you be joining us

for a drink later?

Can't. Off first thing.

One on one with Reagan,

at the ranch in Santa Barbara.

- Reagan?

- Yeah.

Wants to talk about

what it was like

running the world,

or something.

I can talk about what it was

like for the world.

Oh, hi.

She's out.

How's Jamie?

He's fine.

I've just put him down.

I can literally see him.

Danny, goodbye.

Can you at least tell me

where Katie is?

Hi.

What are you doing here?

Basically, you know,

I was nowhere near the area,

so, thought I'd pop in,

say hello.

Oh, and this is for you,

by the way.

I'm going to see you guys later.

I was just about to buy

everyone a round.

I just came to tell you

the good news.

I'm back at work.

And they're sending me

to L.A. for a cover story.

Can you believe that?

And I'm going to do it

brilliantly...

And what?

I'm doing it this time,

just like I said I would.

You're not hearing me.

It's over!

This time it's real.

Look.

I'm a month sober.

Even if you were

telling me the truth,

which, by the way,

how could I know,

are you that fucking deluded

that you think everything

would suddenly be okay

in a couple of weeks

after what happened?

After five years of your shit?

Look, I'm trying!

Kate, I'm fucking trying!

I'm not coming back, Danny.

Belvedere.

Yeah, 10:00 tomorrow night.

Precisely, 10:00.

I understand.

Let me know

if anything changes.

Oh, and will you please

tell Mr. Vidal

how excited I am

to meet him?

Thank you.

Room service? Yeah,

could you have someone come

and clear all the alcohol

out of my minibar, please?

Thanks.

You recall the final scene

in The Man with

the Golden Gun,

when Roger Moore,

he stuff me in that suitcase?

He fix my back really good.

I couldn't walk for a week.

He persuade the girls

to carry me out

by the hotel pool

on a stretcher.

Like Caesar, you know?

- Just like Caesar.

Making The Man with

the Golden Gun,

happiest time of my life.

Let me help you with that.

Voilà.

Are you sure

you won't join me?

- A drink, at least.

- No, thank you.

I don't...

You are wondering

why I only taste things.

That's what you were thinking,

wasn't it?

Yes, I was, as a matter of fact.

What is that?

It's because the damn

doctors say so.

My blood is sick at my age,

with my condition,

so I'm under the strictest

instruction.

If I were to eat a whole meal,

I might drop dead right here.

Now...

now that would be a story.

Yeah, it certainly would.

And smoking isn't a risk?

A life without risks

is not worth discussing.

He make me the way he does.

But he offer compensation.

To eat, to feel, to touch,

to, oh, make love.

These are the purposes

of my life.

The day I cannot

do these things is my last.

So, I must fill every day

with limitless possibility.

- Yes?

- Thank you.

No, no!

No, you are my guest.

I insist.

There you go.

Oh, hello.

Thank you.

Well, thank you, Hervé.

That was brilliant.

I mean, what? What?

That's it?

No more questions?

I've got more than enough.

Actually, I have another

interview to get to tonight.

Another interview?

Tonight?

Unfortunately, yeah.

I'm already late.

You know, I haven't given

an interview in 10 years.

But when your paper called,

it has quite a reputation,

you know?

- Yeah, it does.

- Which is why I so surprised.

Why were you surprised?

They didn't used

to send the juniors.

I'm not a junior.

Oh, only a junior

would have written the story

before they got here.

Nick Nack. Tattoo.

Just a silly little moment,

but I'm sure that's all

someone of your stature

would be interested in.

That's funny.

But, you know,

you should be very careful.

In a few years I'm going to be

editing that paper.

No, you won't.

You're right about one thing.

You're not the reason

they flew me out here.

You're just

the amuse-bouche.

Sorry, sir,

this one didn't go through.

Your machine is broke.

Well, Hervé, I could sit

and chat here all night,

but got to get on

with this other interview.

I have a real story for you,

Junior.

A story that would be printed

around the world.

And this story will be the one

that make your name.

Really?

What if I tell you

you have the final interview

with Hervé Villechaize?

What?

Ooh, I got you!

Fuck.

I don't play sick games

like that.

Did I get you?

Hervé, thank you so much.

Brilliant. Good night.

Goodbye...

Junior.

I need to get to the Belvedere

in 10 minutes.

- Can you help me?

- You got it.

I am so sorry to be late,

Mr. Vidal.

Had a bit of an emergency.

Did someone die?

I sincerely hope so.

No.

Long story short,

it was a dwarf.

Let me just start by saying

how much I love your book.

Mr. Tate,

it was made clear to you that

our interview was to begin

precisely at 10:00,

was it not?

Yes.

And you're aware it's now

23 minutes past?

Yes, and I apologize.

If you're incapable of accuracy

with your time-keeping,

why should I expect it

from your reporting?

Thank you, Saul.

No. It's a mistake.

Sir, it was my mistake,

and I'm sorry.

Please.

Please, please, please.

I have traveled such a long way

to be here, sir. Please.

So have I.

Perhaps I can offer

you a drink, sir.

Don't be a cunt.

His office is open

at 10:00 a.m.

He writes there

until lunchtime.

I will be there

waiting for him to arrive.

Look, I'm not going to leave

until I get the interview, okay?

I just need you to have

my flight pushed back.

Don't tell me what you'll need.

The old man's going

to shit a brick.

Then don't tell him until

I've got everything sorted.

Christ. You stay put.

Don't do anything.

Shit. You're not going

to tell him?

No, I'm going to fix it

from here.

Look, I promise

I'll take care of it.

You promised you wouldn't

fuck it up.

Fuck!

Room service? Yes, I called

and asked very nicely

for you to remove

all the booze from my minibar,

but it's still fucking here!

Gentlemen, when it comes

to having

the last word

in an argument,

is it more important

to your wife...

It isn't the kind of a face

you'd forget in a hurry.

No.

Wait a minute. I know.

In some magazine.

The Atlantic, I think.

Hello?

Housekeeping.

Who is this?

Hervé!

Hervé?

It's the middle

of the fucking night.

Your other interview

is over, yes?

So?

So maybe we finish

our interview now.

We finished our interview.

I'll meet you downstairs

in five minutes.

What?

I promised you a great story,

didn't I?

Unbe-fucking-lievable.

Twat.

Are you out

of your fucking mind?

I thought I'd give you

a little tour

of Hervé's L.A.

I thought you wanted

to finish your interview.

We do it as we go.

Scared?

This is how to travel, no?

Danny, don't worry.

I'm not going to kill you.

Not yet, anyway.

So, how did the other

interview go?

Yeah. It was good.

It's fine.

Not so well.

All right.

What is this incredible

story of yours, then?

The one that's going

to make my name?

You tell me.

You're the writer.

Ask me a question.

Listen, mate,

tell me what you want

to tell me,

or you can drop me off

right fucking here.

Good. Good.

Good?

Now I know

you're paying attention.

My mother always used to say

I was Hitler's fault.

As if he didn't have enough

to answer for.

So that's what she said

caused it all?

All this?

You know, maybe it was

the ambulance crash

that make me into what I am,

or maybe it is God's will.

Who knows? You know, he has

a sick sense of humor sometime.

When did...

when did you realize

that you were...?

A freak?

Bravo.

Papa was a doctor.

He was the first one

who noticed it.

Merci.

Madame?

Evelyne?

Madame Villechaize...

My papa tell me nothing is impossible.

Huh? Bravo!

He become obsessed

with making me grow.

He tell me we must be willing

to try anything,

that a miracle

is always possible.

Oui.

Hey.

- Ca va.

Hmm.

Mm-hmm.

Hmm?

How did you endure it?

What do you mean?

I mean, you went

through hell for...

for nothing.

No, not for nothing.

If we don't try everything,

Papa will always wonder

if somehow he can still

make me better.

If somehow

he can still make me well.

Ah.

Just what the doctor ordered.

Oh, God.

You know, I think

in her own way,

my mother was always

in love with me.

What on earth would

make you think that?

Because she is my mother.

I know how she feel.

I am a constant

living reminder

of the ambulance crash,

of her own weakness.

Okay.

What did your father

think of her behavior?

He tell me,

because of my condition,

that I am lucky if I live

past 25 year old.

But I make it to 50.

Maybe now he realize

what a miracle I am.

Miracle.

You like?

Brilliant.

It looks exactly like you.

Really, you are

a great artist.

That's fucking brilliant.

Aww.

and I am Hervé the conqueror!

Sometimes, the curse

of disproportion

work in a man's favor.

I finally understand

what I must be:

an artist.

That I must find a way

to enjoy every waking moment,

whatever the cost.

Ah, ah, shh, shh.

When the world realize

you are a real person

and not just an amusing sight,

they get scared.

Why is that, you think?

Why would people be afraid

of someone like me?

I don't know.

What is it?

Our night is about

to improve.

Driver!

- Ah, Hervé!

- Hey, how are you, man?

- You good?

- How's the wife and kids, huh?

Perfect.

Hi.

Yeah.

Come on. Come on.

How are you?

Hervé, I told you

I don't drink.

Huh.

Who's going to know?

It's just you and me.

How long's it been?

- What?

- "What." Come on.

Danny, we're friends now.

You can tell me.

Not that it's any

of your fucking business,

but it's been 32 days.

Thirty-two days?

That is all?

Sounds bad.

You think that sounds bad?

That's actually really good.

Who would count the days

if it was good?

Now that you've got my story,

why don't we continue

with yours?

Okay. The night of the attack.

It was decided

that I must leave France.

When you are a freak,

you go where the freaks go.

New York City is the only

place I ever feel tall.

You want that gun?

Pick it up.

You want that gun? Pick it up.

I wish you would.

For two months, I sit and eat

and watch John Wayne,

Chuck Heston,

Steve McQueen, Gilligan.

All the greats.

That's how I learned

to speak English.

That's earning

money the hard way.

I realize there is fantasy

in everyone's living room.

And I must be a part of it.

This new world,

the world of television.

And nobody run in here either, huh?

That's when I see who

Hervé Villechaize can become.

An artist who everyone know.

Like Dali.

An artist who himself

become a work of art.

Why paint it

when you can be it?

So that's the moment you decided

that you wanted to be famous?

No! When I must be famous.

Like you must be the editor.

It is a calling.

I can't tell you how proud we

are to be part of this, Sydney.

No...

Can you hold on a second?

What is it?

There's a little French guy

in reception

with a knife.

A what?

He says he wants

to talk to you.

I just need five minute

of your time, Mr. Rothstein.

Everything's fine, Melanie.

How can I help you, Mr...?

My name is Hervé Villechaize.

I am the best French actor

of this generation.

And I need the best agent

of this generation

to represent me.

You are the best, no?

Can you put the knife down,

please?

Tomorrow...

and tomorrow...

and tomorrow

creeps in this petty pace

from day to day,

to the last syllable

of recorded time.

And all our yesterdays

have lighted fools

the way to dusty death.

Out, out, brief candle!

Life is but a walking shadow,

a poor player that struts

and frets his hour

upon the stage,

and then is heard no more.

It is a tale

told by an idiot,

full of sound and fury,

signifying nothing.

Jesus fucking Christ.

And that was that.

I decided to become

a movie star.

You don't just decide

to become a movie star.

Just because a man is small

doesn't mean

he has to act it.

James Bond.

He saved my life.

Nick Nack...

pleasure to meet you.

Sit down.

Watch them.

And find your mark.

Find your mark.

See, this is what happens

when people forget

how lucky they are.

You don't never have

to worry about me, Roger.

It is then that I discover

there is a divine cure

for my condition.

And by divine cure,

you mean success?

No. I mean success.

Finally, I realize

my mother is proud of me.

Proud of her little man.

Still, to this day,

it is one of the greatest

moment of my life.

You know what I think?

I think we worked well.

I think we deserve

a big, fat treat, on me.

- Hi.

- Uh-oh.

I'm Destiny.

- This is my friend Brianne.

- Where's your phone?

Danny, come on.

Don't call your mother now,

Danny.

Hello, Destiny.

Hello, Brianne.

Yeah, Room 1007?

Yeah, Mr. Tate.

Do I have any messages?

Okay. Thanks.

Hervé, I'm going home.

We'll pick this up

some other time.

Don't let him leave.

You Englishmen.

You just don't know

how to have a good time.

I'm Irish,

and I assure you we do.

Can't you just

sit down and relax?

Champagne?

No.

Yeah!

Hey, Dan.

Danny, go and say hello.

Go, go and say hello.

Go...

Can I talk to your friend?

Thank you. Hello.

All right, fun's over.

All right...

Oh, that's her boyfriend!

Danny! Danny! Danny!

Danny! Danny! Danny! Danny!

Get off me. Get off.

Oh, Danny. Danny, come on.

Oh, where are you going?

You're an evil, little shit,

you know that?

I don't know you don't

like whisky, Danny.

Why don't you let me know?

You knew exactly

what you were doing.

I just tried

to help you relax.

I came here tonight

to do an interview,

not to be part

of some crazy

fucking game!

Okay, okay. I'm sorry.

I apologize for that,

bringing you here,

knowing your situation

and everything.

You don't know anything

about my fucking situation!

You're right. You're right.

Let's finish

the interview.

Forget it. It's too late

for that now anyway.

- What?

- I need sleep!

And I've still got that

other interview to do.

I thought you do it already.

Didn't you?

No.

I fucked it up

because I was late,

and you want to know why?

It was because of you.

You made me late.

And if I don't get it sorted,

I lose my job, okay?

Why did you come out

with me tonight then?

I don't know.

Maybe I thought that you'd

be slightly more entertaining

than watching reruns

of Growing Pains.

I don't think

that's the real reason.

Or maybe I thought this story

could turn out to be special.

But hey, I was wrong

about that, too.

Good night.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Wait, I...

I understand.

The crazy dwarf,

he make you late.

And there you are.

Oh, in the middle of the night,

you know,

far from home in some

shitty hotel room.

There is no one there

to help you.

You're about

to lose your job.

Just you alone,

with the minibar.

I mean, that's it,

isn't it?

You know?

That's the real reason.

Buddy, let's go!

Yeah. I'm going.

No, no. Come on.

You can't leave yet.

Think about it.

What's back at that shitty hotel

except for more of the same?

Why hate yourself when

you can hate me instead?

Ah!

I remember that day on set with

Roger like it was yesterday.

You can stop it with the fucking

bullshit anecdotes

you've been dining out on

since the '70s.

- Whoa.

- Just...

Easy, Danny.

Just tell me what it felt like.

What?

To be famous.

To have made it.

To finally be able

to shove it down the throats

of those fuckers who looked down

on you for being different.

Just tell me what it felt like.

Being famous

is like being drunk,

except the whole world

is drunk with you.

But I didn't make it

after the Bond movie,

if that's what

you're thinking.

You were world-famous.

Everybody knew Nick Nack.

That's not the same thing

as making it.

You don't make it

without money.

Money, money, money, money.

You know, for four year

after the Bond movie,

I couldn't even find a job.

So, is it fair to say

that you consider yourself

a spokesperson

for little people everywhere?

No, not at all, Merv.

I'm just an actor

who's been incredibly

fortunate.

But as the chairman of

the Little People of America,

I feel it's important to play

the correct role in society.

To remind people

life is different for us.

Give us an example

of how it's different.

It's funny you ask that, Merv.

When I worked

with Elvis on Roustabout,

he asked me the same question.

So, what kept you going?

Was it self-belief?

Determination?

Or was it...

was it just pure desperation?

I mean, you had nothing

to lose, nothing to go back to.

No.

It was God.

God is the one

that keep me going.

You seriously believe in God?

Yes.

And I know he would never

let me down.

Well, some might say

he already did.

Yes, he make me

this way, sure.

But I know he offer fame as

one of his little compensations.

I know it.

How could you possibly

know that?

Because I pray

for a miracle.

And it happen.

Hi. I'm Kathy.

I'll be your dresser.

You're going to be great.

Oh, am I?

I don't have audition

in nearly two year.

Oh, you already

have this part.

- How do you know?

- Because I know.

There's only one of you on

this planet that we call Earth.

And if the biggest producer

on this planet, Aaron Spelling,

says that you can do it,

then you can.

Trust me.

Breathe with me.

That was good.

You ready for your fitting now?

Imagine a beautiful island,

somewhere between

heaven and Earth,

where every dream you ever had

can come true.

What do you want to be?

A king? A queen?

A warrior?

A poet? A champion?

Maybe you want to be loved

by everybody.

Or just somebody.

Just tell me the life

you really want to live,

and Mr. Roarke and I

will make it real.

The plane! The plane!

Tattoo.

- Ah, Tattoo.

- Hi, boss.

Do you think I'll be able

to sell my paintings

to the new arrivals?

Not now, Tattoo.

Put your jacket on, please.

It's time to greet our guests.

Oh, now this

I can get used to.

Come along, Tattoo.

It was one of the greatest

on-screen partnership

of all time.

Positions, please, positions.

And smiles, everyone.

Smiles.

Like Aaron Spelling use to say,

Hervé is the tiny

mischievous Starsky.

It's going to be a good week,

Tattoo.

Ricardo is the older,

wiser Hutch.

Wonderful.

Tattoo, Tattoo, Tattoo.

My name is Mr. Roarke,

and I will be your host.

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

- Hear, hear!

- Whoo!

The show is a big, fat hit.

My legend is born.

Down that way.

Hey! What's up, brother?

Come here, bro.

The show is un succès énorme.

I make more money

than I could ever dream.

Thirty-five thousand bucks

a week!

Finally, I make it.

For real.

The world is mine.

Sure,

you could call it a miracle,

but you could also just call

it crazy dumb luck.

It's the same thing,

don't you see?

Fantasy Island

is my just reward.

He have to make it up to me

one way or another.

But were you really proud of it?

I mean, truly?

I mean, you were

a serious painter.

An artist.

A Dali-esque surrealist

in the making.

And here you are starring

in this camp trash.

Why are you always

such a little bitch?

You've got that

market cornered, my friend.

Oh!

You going to pay for that,

Junior.

Scoot, scoot, scoot.

Come on, come on.

Hervé!

Whoo-hoo!

What the fuck?

Hello, Danny!

Stop the stupid car,

you little punk!

Hervé!

Jesus!

Midget prick.

Fucking...

What the fuck?

It's not funny.

This is fucked.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I buy you a new one.

With what?

One of your declined

credit cards?

Hey.

Why don't we talk

about this then, huh?

The actress you met on set.

What's her name, Camille?

That's her name, right?

I don't say her name.

Ever.

Tattoo, Tattoo, Tattoo...

My name is Mr. Roarke.

I will be your host.

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

And cut. Print that one.

You guys were great.

I want you to find out

everything you can about her.

Who?

Her?

Young, beautiful lady.

Such a pleasure.

Kathy,

I want you to talk to her, please.

Why?

Well, she like me.

She's just playing,

that's all.

Well, it's not a good sign

when women are like that.

Thank you so much.

Tell her I want to meet her.

Tell her I have the heart

of a poet.

- Thanks.

- Enjoy.

Come on.

Please, Kathy. Come on.

So sweet.

I loved the hug

and the kiss.

It just, it felt right,

you know?

Hello. Hello.

The greatest entrance

in cinema history.

I knew you'd come and say hi.

I'm Camille.

Oh, why, thank you.

And now I pronounce you

husband and wife.

You may kiss the bride.

All I want to do

is take care of you.

And our family.

Yes.

Our family.

I mean, this looks like

quite the Hollywood wedding.

And look at you.

You look so cute.

Hervé, you look so happy.

My God.

That's so sweet.

So, Hervé,

did your outrageous,

out-of-control womanizing

have anything at all to do

with why your wife divorced you?

I am not a womanizer.

I just love women.

- All women.

- Oh, my God.

And no, because by the time

I get married,

I have it all under control.

You must think

I was born yesterday.

Arrêtez! Stop the car!

Where are you going?

Hervé, where...? Come on.

- Hey...

- I don't talk to you no more.

Are you seriously

asking me to believe

that all your womanizing stopped

once you married Camille?

- Yes.

- What kind of bullshit story

are you trying

to sell me, Hervé?

- I'm telling you the truth.

- Of course you are.

You want to believe those

shit rags over me, be my guest.

But I'm telling you

for the last time,

what they say about

me and her isn't true.

Ask me a question.

What, so you can lie

about that, too?

Ask me!

Fine, why did everyone say

you became a nightmare

the moment you got famous?

Everyone?

Who is everyone?

Why don't we start

with Ricardo Montalbán?

Fantasy Island is a vehicle

for Ricardo Montalbán.

He is the star.

But Tattoo

steal his thunder.

Huh? He jealous.

Now that is the real story,

Junior.

Why on earth would

he be jealous of you?

Because this wretched

little freak

is almost as famous

as he is.

He eat at the best restaurants,

he makes almost the same

amount of money,

he fuck more beautiful women,

and this snob Montalbán,

he can't stand it.

Drive him crazy.

A guy like Montalbán

doesn't exactly strike me

as the jealous type.

You weren't there.

You wouldn't know.

He try to push my buttons

so I explode.

So I disappoint him.

He's still in his trailer.

Ah, Ricardo.

I was going to give you

a ride to set,

but I realize I don't

have any room.

This is my fan mail.

And this is my new fan.

And I am so sorry,

this is your fan mail.

Good manners and charm,

eh, Hervé?

And I wanted to thank you for

taking out all my scenes today.

The writers make all

the final decisions, Hervé.

I merely suggest.

You know that.

You love to suggest,

don't you?

You're an incredibly

talented actor

with a marvelous

sense of humor.

Frankly, it's no wonder

that you are so popular.

But I must tell you that most

of the letters in your bag...

they're from me.

I will see you on set.

Let's not keep them waiting.

I never had so much fun

in my life.

In my whole goddamn life.

It didn't sound like fun

for anyone else.

All I know is that

millions of people

tune in to watch that show.

It's not my fault

they turn me into a god.

A god?

Really? Wow!

It's incredible

when you think about it.

What's incredible?

Fantasy Island

gave you everything.

Money. Fame. Women.

- Everything.

- So?

So, even I couldn't have

fucked that up so spectacularly.

You think I fuck

everything up?

Of course you did.

You're struggling for years,

then you're handed this miracle

of an opportunity.

Continue. Please.

And you just pissed

it all away.

Look at some of these.

I mean some of these just make

great, great reading.

"Drunk Dwarf Sex Scandal."

"Strip Poker in a Hot Tub."

I mean, this is genius.

I wish I could've been there.

That sounds like a fun night.

Very nice.

Now let's have a look

at some of this stuff here.

"Celebrity midget declares

on-set sex clinic open.

Appointments are free."

Generous bastard.

That is just so nice.

I mean, most of this stuff

would be true, right?

You expect me to take

that trash seriously?

It is public record.

What are you doing?

Hervé...

don't do that.

Hervé, don't...

Brilliant.

Now it's public record.

So it's all true then.

You know, you of all people

should know

what bullshit

those stories are.

Lies created to sell paper.

Isn't that why you were

sent here, Junior?

To write a funny little story

about a dwarf?

Yes, that's right.

I was.

But then you insisted

on telling me the "real" story.

I mean, that's why

I'm here, right?

The real story?

Okay, Junior.

Coming right up.

Oh, wait up.

Hervé, what are you doing?

Hervé?

Hello? Hello?

- Hello?

- Hervé, get back in the car.

Shut up. It's fine.

Don't worry.

Hervé, get back

in the fucking car.

Hervé! Come back!

Oh, fuck's sake.

Hervé, get out!

Danny. Danny, come on.

What are you doing? Get out.

There's someone in there.

Stay right where you are.

I'm on the phone to 911.

Marty, it's me, Hervé.

What the f...?

Hervé, what the fuck

do you think you're doing?

I'm sorry, Marty,

but no one answer the door.

We need to talk.

It's important.

It's the middle of the night!

Come here. Come.

This is my friend.

He's a journalist

from an English newspaper.

He interview me

for a very important story,

and I need to talk to you,

Marty.

Jesus fucking Christ, Hervé.

I could've shot you.

Oh, relax, Marty.

- Come on.

- Fuck no.

No.

So, you're a reporter?

For my sins.

And you're... you're doing

a story about this guy?

Yeah.

You sure you're okay

with this?

I got nothing to hide.

Tell him the truth about

what happened with Montalbán.

How he destroy

my reputation.

Yeah, sure.

Montalbán went after you.

That's true.

See? See, I tell you.

But do you remember why?

Because I do.

Oh, boy, do I ever.

Where is he?

He says he doesn't have

enough lines to say

this week,

and he suggests...

What... what does he suggest?

That you let his stand-in

do the episode instead?

Let his stand-in

do the episode?

He wants his stand-in

to do the episode.

Well, if it's this beautiful

8-year-old girl...

she is the better actor.

A true artist

would be here today

to support his fellow artists

and show respect

for our writers!

Fantasy Island

is very important to me!

Yeah, Mr. Montalbán, please...

Out with that French

homunculus!

You get me Spelling

on the phone right now!

Please.

Mm, yeah.

He will not take our show down!

We have worked too hard

for this success!

My apologies.

This is not my nature.

Let's take...

let's take 10.

Everyone know I am the

reason this show is a sensation!

Hervé...

I'm sick of that dumbass

Frito Bandito.

Keep your voice down.

You tell Aaron I want

the same money as Ricardo.

The same.

You're being unreasonable.

Oh, oh.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I am being unreasonable?

Oh, excusez-moi.

I, you know, because all I want

is respect.

And that means money!

Look how much money

they're making!

Hervé, you have money

and respect.

Then why do they treat me

like a child?

They are abusers!

I know how challenging

all of this can be,

especially since

you just got married.

This has nothing to do

with my marriage!

This is business, Marty!

You tell Aaron, Tattoo wants

the same as Roarke.

Trust me when I tell you

that is a very bad idea.

If you don't tell them, I will.

Hervé, you don't get it,

do you?

Listen to me.

You will never get

another show like this.

Ever.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime

opportunity, believe me.

Being on this show

is like winning the lottery.

Do you understand?

Without me,

there is no show.

They nearly ran me

out of the business

because he was my client.

Just because of that?

No, because he was

so fucking crazy.

In 1981, he spent

150 grand on parties.

Just crazy parties.

We had to tell the IRS

that he'd built

the most expensive swimming pool

in the history of Hollywood.

You remember that, Hervé?

I was having a good time.

Isn't that what

a big star does?

Yeah, great. Have a great time.

But don't spend

every single penny.

I told you. I told you

to put the money away.

I did. I told him.

But he refused.

So I put some money aside

for him anyway.

But then he finds out

about that,

he freaks out,

and he spends all of that too.

Because you go

behind my back.

I was trying to help you.

I was. I was trying

to help him.

See, see? This is what

they're like in Hollywood

when they try to help you.

Tell him the truth, Marty.

Tell him about

all those kids I help.

Yeah, you did. You did.

More than I can count.

- See? See?

- But you didn't help yourself!

Hervé...

I love you.

But you just don't remember

how bad it got.

- Hervé.

- Ooh!

Hey, I know who you are,

and I appreciate

all your success.

Don't take this

the wrong way,

but why don't you try and act

with a little more class?

Go fuck yourself.

Come here!

You son of a bitch!

Come here!

Okay, all right, that's enough.

Hervé.

Ah, hello, Mr. Spelling.

Jesus Christ.

Mm.

Hervé, you and I

need to talk.

No, Aaron.

Two minutes and I'll be ready.

- You are three hours late.

- Okay. You know.

This is not how

you behave on my set.

Just relax, Aaron.

You know? Relax.

- Relax?

- Take a vacation, huh?

You have held us hostage

for three hours.

Hostage? Come on. Come on.

No!

Cannot take the fucking house,

Marty!

The house is mine, Marty!

No, you tell them!

No, no, you don't say no to me!

I say no to you!

You call Camille's lawyer

and tell...

No, you do that,

I fire the whole company!

- Hervé, the network...

- Out of my way, Aaron!

...is very concerned

about your behavior.

- I can't protect...

- Later, Aaron!

Drive the fucking car!

My apologies, Ricardo.

Why are we sitting here?

Drive the fucking car!

Drive right over here.

I don't want to talk

to that fucking banana.

Let's go!

Now!

I understand this is a most difficult moment

in your personal life.

But we have a crew waiting.

And this is not the first time

you make them wait.

Contrary to what you may think,

I am your friend,

and I understand your pain.

Although I hate the sin,

I've been taught

to love the sinner.

So please listen to me

very carefully.

If you decide to leave now,

your life will never

be the same.

And I promise you,

you will regret it.

So come, Tattoo.

Let's welcome our guests.

Thank you for trying,

Ricardo.

Perhaps there's another

little man.

That was the beginning

of the end.

He warned you.

Thank you for seeing me tonight,

Marty.

Don't mention it.

I know it was hard for you

all those years,

and I want you to know

I appreciate all your hard work.

Okay.

Next time,

use the front door.

I'm sorry you had

to go through that...

Don't, don't.

It must feel good

to think

that you are better

than everyone else, hmm?

- I don't.

- At least I've had success.

- You never will.

- Oh, I see.

You're just going to pick on me

now because you're embarrassed.

You know why people

like you never succeed?

It is because you don't have

the balls to do it yourself.

So much easier to sit on

the sidelines judging, isn't it?

I was right

about what happened.

About your role in it.

You were to blame

more than anyone else.

That is the truth.

Don't you lecture me

about that.

You know what I think?

I think the reason you point

the finger for a living

is because you don't want

anyone to see

who you really are,

that underneath all those words,

you are nothing!

But you don't fool me.

No. I see you.

Danny T...

ah, Danny Tate.

This is a waste

of fuckin' time.

- Pull over.

- Yeah.

Who the fuck do you think

you are to walk away from me?

What did you ever do?

You've done nothing!

You've lived nothing!

What gives you the right

to judge, Junior?

Nothing.

But at least I'm willing

to take responsibility

for the shit that I've done.

But you? No way.

Not even now.

Not even years fucking later.

What a sad, pathetic,

little freak you are.

What? You still think

I'm the one

that fuck everything up?

Look at you!

Thirty-two days sober.

And now what is it?

What is it? Two hour? Huh?

Oh, you feel like

a drink now?

Huh?

You made your fucking point.

At least my life

will be remembered.

It will count for something.

But you, you're nothing more

than a footnote.

You will be forgotten

before I finish this sentence.

Yeah? So why don't you just

fucking kill me then?

Huh? Go on!

It'll make the perfect ending.

You'd be doing us all a favor.

I'm just one of the little

people after all.

What bloody difference

would it make?

But then no one's going to

fucking read about it, are they?

Do you think you're the only one

who's had a tough life?

Who's fucked things up

and had trouble admitting it?

You don't own that,

you egotistical,

entitled little prick!

We all have!

We're all fucking human!

Fuck you!

The truth is,

you wanted to drag me down

into the shit

so that you'd feel better

about the mess

that you've made

with your life.

But it's not

going to wash, mate.

This real story of yours?

It's not real.

It's not even a fucking story.

It's a... it's a press release.

Do you honestly think that

that's going to be printed

all over the world?

Because let me

tell you something.

It's going to be lucky

if it's a quarter of a page

in the back

next to the fucking recipes.

No one gives a fuck, Hervé.

No one cares.

This real story of yours,

it's a joke.

Your life...

is a joke.

Finally.

I see the real you.

And I'm not your fucking

Junior either.

You're right.

Of course I'm right.

No, no.

I mean it's not much

of a story, is it?

Who knows?

Maybe having a knife

pulled on you

by a delusional

celebrity dwarf

is worth half a page

on a slow news day.

Okay.

Okay, we go now.

I-I... I'll take you home.

Yeah. Take me home.

About fuckin' time.

But before we go...

we make one last stop.

A stop?

No.

No more stops.

Danny, what is a story

without an ending?

Hervé, I just...

I can't handle

any more crazy.

No more.

No more. I promise.

You promise?

I promise.

Welcome to Fantasy Island,

Mr. Tate.

Formidable, non?

This is where we shoot

the plane landing, right here.

Do you want me to say it?

Not particularly.

The plane! The plane!

What is it?

This is where she was standing

when I first saw her.

Camille.

You were right.

It was me.

I fuck everything up.

Why? Why did you?

I don't know.

I just went crazy.

There must have been a moment...

a moment when...

when you decided

to blow everything up,

when you could've made

another choice,

stopped yourself, when...

when things could've

turned out differently.

I don't know.

I never think about it.

So think about it.

What about you?

What was your moment?

Me?

Christ, I don't know.

For me, moments never stop.

Camille! Camille!

I have a restraining order here,

Mr. Villechaize,

ordering you off the property

immediately.

- I don't give a shit.

- No need for unpleasantness.

- Where is she, cockbag?

- Hey, lookie here, short stuff.

Fuck!

- Hervé?

- Ah, Camille.

Camille! Camille!

Camille, baby.

Shit!

Camille, baby, I love you!

Camille! Camille!

It was 15 months to

the day after we got married.

Where are you? Camille!

I should've known

she planned to do it.

She planned to take away

my whole life.

I so wanted her

to love me.

But did you love her?

I don't know.

I thought I did.

I thought if I could

just make her love me,

that everything

would be all right.

And I-I...

...I would be all right.

But I realize...

you cannot make

someone love you.

Not if they don't want to.

Not if they never did.

Goldie Hawn, you have $50.

150 to 50.

And we'll find out who can keep

playing, after this.

- Hey, boss!

- Hey, little fella.

What can I get you?

The chocolate!

No, no, no, no, no.

The cinnamon!

No, no, no.

The plain! The plain!

Eventually a man must realize,

life don't depend

on what he is able to do,

only on what he is able

to accept.

So let's have a warm GM welcome

for our special guest.

It's the midget

with the heart of gold:

Tattoo!

Herby Velcheez!

Whoo!

Ah, look at that!

Where's the plane?

Hervé!

Say that thing you say!

Hey, Hervé, over here, buddy!

Hey!

Back up!

Get out of here!

I am so sick of this shit,

Kathy!

- Like...

- Okay, baby,

but try to calm down.

I'm sick! I'm sick of...

So we won't do it anymore.

We're done.

We won't do

this shit anymore.

Baby, what are you...?

Fuck, what are you doing?

God!

Kathy.

At the end of the day,

I realize I am no different

to anyone else.

Addicted to a fantasy.

The fantasy that something

or someone

will take away

the pain of life.

It is going to be

a beautiful morning.

When you go back?

Maybe tomorrow.

Or the day after.

I don't know yet.

Come see me tonight,

at my hotel.

Tonight?

Yeah.

I stay at the Sheraton

in Universal.

They fumigate my house.

Allergic to the fumes.

Please come.

I don't have

any more questions.

Well, I don't have

any more answers.

But I have

something for you.

We'll see.

It's been a long night.

We all took a bet

how long it would be

before you were off the wagon.

I haven't been drinking again,

if that's what you think.

It's all right, mate.

You're far less

boring that way.

What are you doing here?

Baskin's got a job for me.

What?

Something about

a hatchet job.

You kidding?

What'd you expect?

So she fired me?

I don't know.

You'd better ask her.

Oh, be a pal.

Let her know I arrived safely,

will you?

Danny! Danny!

Danny.

Yeah.

My girlfriend.

Hello?

Katie?

Danny, I told you not to...

No, don't hang up, Katie.

Please, please.

You don't have to say anything.

I worked it out.

Why I can't accept it.

And I know there's nothing

I can do to fix it.

But I wanted you to know that...

...I know it's over.

I know. I know it is,

and I'm sorry.

Because you both deserve better.

It's...

it's really good...

that you're saying

all of this.

That you're realizing...

Danny?

I'm still here.

Shit.

LAX, please.

I have to make a quick stop.

Give me a few minutes.

- Hey.

It's Danny Tate

for Hervé Villechaize, 1702.

Of course.

Yes, there's a Mr. Tate

here to see you?

Oh, very good. Down the hall,

elevator's to the left.

Thank you.

Hello?

It's you.

Hervé...

What is that?

My stun gun.

Fifteen thousand volts,

you know.

Just in case.

In case of what?

Ah.

No, no, no.

I have problem

with my back,

but, you know,

I find a solution?

Roger's with me always.

You see?

Huh?

Want a Sprite?

No, thank you.

I don't have much time.

Ah, well, it's late

for these already.

What is all this?

The children,

they still write,

even though they all

grown up now.

You know,

they ask for things.

They ask for, you know,

autographs.

Photos.

Advice.

- That's nice.

- Yeah.

So in the end

you found her?

The one?

Kathy. Yes.

She is my best friend.

I'm sure lucky

to find her.

She help me through

the hardest years of my life

and all my health problems.

There is nothing

I would do to hurt her.

Is this your mother?

Is she still alive?

I don't know.

She...

I don't see her

since that night,

the night of the premiere.

I think I owe you the truth.

I hadn't seen my parents

in over 10 year.

You know, I was thinking

of giving these

to the Television Academy.

But I think it's better

that you take them.

Why?

For your story.

No, I couldn't.

Please.

Well, maybe one or two.

No. All of them.

I'm glad I stayed.

Me, too.

It's a long time since

I so honest with someone.

I don't feel so alone now.

No, wait, before you go,

we record this historic moment.

Huh? Come on.

Come on, Danny.

Come on, come sit.

Put that down.

I cannot wait

to read your article.

Who knows, maybe it

make me famous again.

I can't promise anything.

I fucked up that other job.

I think they fired me.

But you were right.

It's a great story.

You tell them...

I regret nothing.

Hervé! Tattoo!

Do it.

- Do the thing. You know?

- Ah, no, no, no.

Come on.

The plane! The plane!

Hervé?

Hello?

Yes, it's Marty Rothstein.

I'm sorry I have

to tell you this, but...

What?

...Hervé's gone.

He killed himself.

Jesus.

It's a brilliant piece.

Thank you.

Two pages.

Somewhere in the middle.

What?

Five hundred words,

short and funny.

That's what I asked for.

Not this.

Fine. I'll take it

somewhere else.

You can't. We commissioned it.

We own it.

- Then run it.

- We are running it.

On the cover!

Two pages.

Somewhere in the middle.

But...

please, you can't do that.

Why?

Because I promised him.

You promised him.

Why on earth would you do

something stupid like that?

Cheer up. Your little friend

did you a favor.

You've only got a job

because he killed himself.

It's a story.

Now cut it down.

Well, Tate's topped

a midget.

Where do we

send him next?

Let's have a look

at that rewrite then.

At least let us treat you

to a goodbye drink.

Fuck!

Right, get back to work.

My Dinner with Hervé (2018) - full transcript