Redwood Curtain (1995) - full transcript

- 15 minutes, miss riordan.

- Thank you.

- What are you working on?

Analytical geometry?

Does that help you relax?

- It helps me get
ready for college.

- Do you want more tea?

- No. No, thank you, I'm fine.

- Should I make sure that
they lower the piano seat?

They forgot to
in Denver, you know.

- I thought I was the one who
was supposed to get nervous.



- But you never do.

I have to get nervous for you.

It's probably compensation
at work, I suppose.

Pay no attention to me.

What's this?

- Oh, it's from that agent
in New York.

Came to my Philadelphia
concert, remember?

I guess he wants
to represent me.

- And?

- Don't worry.

I'm not going to do anything
without you knowing about it.

[Knock on door]

- Am I an interruption?

- Yes.
- No.



- Oh, just like our family,

complete
agreement on everything.

- Brother, dear.

- Hello, Geneva.

- Ooh, are you ready
for another triumph?

- Oh, don't count my chickens
before they hatch.

I'm glad you made the trip.

- I'm going to scream
and whistle and
embarrass you to tears.

- You always come through in
a pinch for me, aunt Geneva.

- Well, but this time
I won't throw redwood bowers.

- I've matured.
- How nice.

- It's also a treat to see
you in something besides

lumberjack plaid.

- And to see you upright.

Good omens all around.

We're sitting together.
Let's not be late arrivals.

Ooh--mwah--love you, dear.

- Just 5 minutes to go.
Do you need anything?

- Only some time to cast
a spell on myself.

- You always do.

You are magical, you know.

- [Takes deep breath
and exhales]

- We're losing the forest.

- Well, I'm sorry
to hear that.

- We're being taken over by
some gasket company in Texas.

Texas.

There's not a tree
in the state.

You loved those woods
when we were kids.

- That was a long time ago.

Another lifetime.

But it's true, I did.

Excuse me. A splash of
scotch like a good fellow.

Whatever's close at hand.

[Orchestra tuning up]
- Laird, she's going
to begin soon.

- I drink fast.

No, no, make it neat.

- Can't you stop?

- [Sighs]

Evidently not.

- Not even for, geri?

- Geri belongs to the world now.

[Piano playing classical piece]

[Indistinct chatter]

Woman: How many hours a day
do you practice?

- Oh,
never more than 24.

[Laughter]

- May we have a photograph?

- Ok, sure.

- Where's Julia tonight?

- Previous obligations.

- Museum benefit
or charity ball?

- I've lost track.

- She should have seen this.

Geri played brilliantly
tonight.

You and Julia have
a daughter to be proud of.

- We had nothing
to do with it.

Adoption's a roll of the dice.
You know that.

- Oh, stop being so perverse.

[Indistinct]

- That's for you.
- Thanks a lot.

- Hello, Mr. riordan.
- Good morning.

- Hello, geri.
- Hello, zenaida.

- You were a big success?

- I hope so.

- She was fine.

Where's Julia?

- Mrs. riordan
went to the museum.

- What are you looking for?

- The reviews from
the clipping service.

- Ah. I'll be right down.

- Ok. Zenaida--

oh! [Laughs]
I'm sorry, I thought
you were still outside.

Did we get a large
express envelope yet?

- I put it on the stairs.
I thought you
would see it there.

- Ok, thanks.

- Let's try it again.

[Piano playing]

- So? How are they?

- So-so.

Nice, but not...

- Smashing.

- No.

Not smashing.

Lots of words like
"credible" and "proficient."

I thought I was past
that when I was 14.

Well, the San Jose
critic loved it.

That will go over
great in New York.

- Don't be so
hard on yourself.

You, uh...

Played very well.

- But...

- But what?

- Whenever I hear
that tone of voice,

I know there's
a "but" coming.

What is it, laird?

But what?

- The third movement.

You know what it needs.

A flying tackle,

a run added
that's on the edge.

The contrast to
the other two movements

is what it's all about.

It's darting, percussive,

so fast it barely
touches the earth.

Pa-tump-a-tump
pa-tump-a-tump...

Of course it's dangerous.

It's hard to keep that up,
it's scary.

But if you play it safe,
you lose all momentum.

You have to take chances.

Ride the music.

Risk everything.

- Like you do.

Laird, I'm sorry.

I'm at the point where
technique is not the problem,

it's the connection between
me and the music.

That's the problem.

I have to figure out who I am.

- You know who you are.

You're geri riordan,
and you're a major talent.

- Laird...

I am very grateful that
you and Julia adopted me,

and I appreciate everything
you've ever done for me.

I really do, but...

But none of it--
none of it tells me

in my bones,
in my heart, who I am.

Whose womb did I leave?

Whose genes do I carry?

Who are my ancestors?

When I know that, laird,

I'll be happy,

very happy
to risk everything.

[Piano playing]

- [Sighs]

I hit an a-sharp
in the third measure.

- Yes, but there's
a bigger problem
than that, isn't there?

Brahms wrote a waltz.

What you're
playing isn't dancing.

Your tone isn't
singing out, geri.

Tell me why I wasn't moved
when you played today?

- I don't know.

Something's wrong.

- Oh, geri, you
have deep feelings.

I've heard it in your music.

What's different now?

- I'm not sure.

When I started performing,
it was--it was so exciting.

I got all my energy from
that, and it was enough.

I didn't have
to think about...

- About what?

- About who I am...

Where I came from...

And what it's all about.

- These are the great
questions we all have to face

sooner or later.

Don't worry, geri.

It just means
you're still growing.

It never stops.

- [Sighs] But how do I find
all these answers, schyler?

- You'll have
to dig. Intuition.

- I remember I was
cutting onions once

when geri was about 5.

She saw my tears and she said,

"why are you crying, daddy?
Is it hurting the onions?"

- [Laughs]

She was always so
sympathetic--about everything.

Stuffed animals,
real animals, people, toys,

such innocence
to come from such a war.

- War cannot stop
life from going on.

My sister gave birth while
bullets were over our heads.

- Did the baby live?

- Yes. They all escaped.

- They're the ones that are
living in Texas now, yeah?

- Mmm, with my Uncle.

- Maybe the secret
of cutting onions is...

To have no tears left.

- If we have no tears,
who are we?

- Then I said, if we raise
all the money for the museum,

then we ought to be able
to fire the director.

Well...Wilfred and Lucille
agreed with me right away.

The man is useless.

And I finally brought
Sampson around. Ha ha.

But the others said that
this is not the right time.

So, we all decided that it
will be easier to raise money

for the new wing, if all
seems well with the officers
and crew of the ship.

- ♪ I am the captain
of the "pinafore" ♪

- ♪ and a mighty
good captain, too ♪

Both:
♪ you are very, very good ♪

♪ and be it understood,
I command a right good crew ♪

[Both laughing]

- The "pinafore," my tree house,
we built it when I was 5.

- And we would climb up there
and sit and sing "pinafore"

all afternoon.

- And I was the captain.

- And I climbed up, too,
and I brought a picnic
lunch, remember?

- You're right, sweetheart.

It's much easier if all
is well with the captain
and the crew.

- I'm sorry I missed
your concert, geri.

Geneva said you
were brilliant.

- I was tentative.

You'd have been embarrassed.

- Oh, I doubt that.

I would have been there,
but I had the hospital benefit.

It's not as though
I had a choice.

I am the co-chair person.

- It's all right.

- I'll come to your
concert in July.

- September.

- September.

I'll check my calendar.

I'll try to be there.

[Sighs]

Oh! Did I tell you?
We're invited to the
overlins on Saturday night.

Just a small dinner party,
all people you know.

I do hope you'll
decide to come with me.

- Well,
she's got nothing booked

on that date at the moment,
but we got a lot

of things in the works.

[Door opens]

Yeah, that might be fine.

Listen, um, can I get back
to you on this next week?

That'd be great. Right.

Thanks.

The promoter in Atlanta
needs our press kit.

Is it ok if I send him
the poster as well?

- It doesn't look like me.

- Look, I promise we'll get
new photos this fall.

He's got to have
something right away.

- Ok.

- What's wrong?

- Schyler says I'm not
connected to my feelings.

- Ah. Feelings.

Tricky subject.

Does she say why
she thinks that?

- She says that I can't go on
with my work until I sort out

my feelings.

- Feelings defy labels.

Maybe it's better just
to feel them, trust them.

Don't analyze them so much.

If you taste a great dish,
do you have to think,

ah, there's the oregano,
there's the pepper--

- what if it's not a great dish?

- Meaning?

- What if it's an empty bowl?

- Isn't this beautiful?

- Oh, yes.

It certainly didn't take you
long to read all of these.

- Well, school's out.
I have more time
in the summer.

- Vietnamese culture, religion,

music, art, 20th century
vietnamese history.

You'll be an expert soon.

- Well, it's my
mother's country,

and I want to know
all I can.

Oh, did the book
I ordered come in?

- Ah, the one about,
uh, magu--ooh--

magiun, maguien...

How--how do you
pronounce that?

- Um, I don't know.

[Dishes clatter]

- Are you hungry?

- No, just thirsty.

- You need meat on your bones.

- So do you.

- Ha ha ha!

When the wind blows, we both
go whoosh! Blown away, huh?

[Laughing]

Are you ok?

- Do you ever feel
like a stranger here?

- I live well here.

Better than in Nicaragua.

Mr. and Mrs. riordan
are good to work for.

- I don't always feel like
I belong to them.

Can you understand that?

- My mother and
father are...Dead.

- I'm sorry, I didn't know.

- The soldiers came
to our village.

They took everyone
but the children...

And...Line them up...
And shot them.

- I'm sorry, zanaida.

I shouldn't even be
talking about my problems.

You suffered so much more.

- There is no way to measure.

At least I did know
them and love them.

I have memories.

I can understand
that you want that.

- Sometimes I like to imagine
that I can see beyond

the horizon, right around
the curvature of the earth.

In my mind
I try to see Hawaii

and Japan and the Philippines

and Vietnam--

- what do you see there?

- Where?

- Vietnam?

What do you remember?

- Too much.

- Well, don't try
to sum it up or anything,

you know, just do it
like word association.

If I say Saigon,

what pops into your head?

What image?

- Bicycles, rickety ones,
swarms of them.

- What else?

- Banners, bright colors of
cloth floating in the breeze.

They like bright colors.

They hang them from bamboo
poles, they wear them.

- What else?

- Smells. Kitchen smells.

Ginger, incense, flowers,

animals everywhere.

Death everywhere.

I was lucky.
I had skills.

I worked with
numbers and words

more than guns
and grenades,

but I still saw
enough death.

None of us knew what
we were getting into.

It didn't just turn
our world upside down,

it turned us inside out.

- Do you think that's how
my father felt about it?

- I imagine it was.

- How can you know that he had
one brown eye and one blue eye

and know so little
else about him?

- Who knows why the army
puts some things on paper

and leaves others off?

- Well, there must be some
more information somewhere.

I mean, there has to be.

What about my mother?

All you've told me is that
she sold flowers in Saigon.

- But not on
the street corner.
She had a shop.

- I'm going to find them,
both, someday.

- Geri...

They were
probably good people,

good people frightened
and confused by a war

that neither
of them understood.

They probably wanted
you and loved you.

It just turned out
to be impossible.

[Door opens and closes]

- [Sighs]

Laird, is that you?

[Creaking]

Laird?

- [Breathing heavily]

I made it.

I made it!

- Made what?

- I made it all the way

from the beach street bar

to my own bedroom
on my own power.

No taxis, no ride, I ran!

- You ran? Whatever for?

- Huh? Why did they
climb mount Everest?

Because it's there.

[Coughing]

That's why I ran.

[Groans]

I bought something
for you today.

Where is it?

Ta-da!

You better open it
while I'm still awake.

- Have I forgotten something?

It's nowhere near
my birthday, laird.

- Don't you remember when
we used to give each other

presents for
no good reason at all?

And they were always
the best surprises.

Not birthdays or Christmas
presents, but the silly ones.

The ones that said...

I love you
because it's Tuesday,

or some such nonsense.

- Oh, laird.

- I'm so glad one of those
can still make you happy.

- Of course it makes me happy.

Just like the one you gave
me when you asked me to--

to marry you.

Do you remember when
we showed it to my parents?

[Laughing]

And they almost died.

And then you said...

- It may only be
a cigar band,

but it's a cigar band
from a $2.00 cigar.

- And they were, like--

we had fun.

We had fun, didn't we?

Where did you go?

- Too far from home,

not far enough from myself.

I guess I...I just got lost.

I'm sorry. I know how
hard it's been for you.

- I missed you so much
when you were over there.

I was determined to make our
life better when you got back.

- It wasn't your fault,
Julia, it was me.

It's still me.

I'm so sorry.

[Sobbing]

[Piano playing]

- Geri?

Geri...

Your father is dead.

[Single key plays]

- Dead?

- Oh, God, whose
days are without end

and whose mercies
cannot be numbered,

make us, we beseech thee,

deeply sensible
to the shortness

and uncertainties of life.

I wish I had known laird
riordan better than I did.

When I think back
on our few conversations,

I realize that whenever I
asked him about his life,

he usually wound up telling
me about someone else's.

How successful his
daughter's concert was,

how much his wife was
contributing to the community,

how much he admired
his sister's devotion

to the forests that they held.

If laird cared about himself,
it wasn't very evident.

Perhaps he didn't care about
himself as much as he should've,

as much as he deserved.

But that was a choice he made.

Laird riordan is gone,
but he will echo

like the chords
of music he played

in the lives
of those he loved.

- Are you sure you two
will be all right?

I can stay a few days longer.

- Oh, thank you, Geneva.
I think we'll be all right.

- Well, I guess
we all need some time now

with our thoughts
and memories.

One of my best memories
is you practicing

when you were 7 or 8

and laird was conducting
with a chopstick,

counting out the time
like a metronome.

Do you remember that, geri?

- I guess, um...

- I know living with my
brother wasn't easy, Julia.

None of us knew all the
demons that were dancing

around in his head
all those years,

but they're gone now
and so is his pain.

- Yes.

- You have to get on
with your life and geri's.

She's going to need
more from all of us now.

- Of course.

[Bell chiming]

- May I join you?

It was a nice ceremony.

- As ceremonies go?

- I know.

It all seems so irrelevant,
especially when you're young.

- My feelings are pretty
hard to sort out right now.

- I can imagine.

Sadness, fear...

Maybe some anger, too.

- I knew he was going
to die early.

The way he drank.

We should have stopped him...

Confronted him about it,

but we were all too polite,

tiptoeing around the subject.

- It's very hard unless
somebody wants to stop.

- But we should have tried.

- Honey, he might have died
of a heart attack anyway.

- It was from his drinking.

I saw the medical report.

Alcoholic cardiomyopathy.

- Have you thought about
spending some time
with me this summer?

I promised to get
the piano tuned. I did.

- 3 keys always stick.

- They're unstuck.

Scout's honor.

- Geri?

- Hmm?

- I was going through
laird's clothes just now

trying to decide what to do
with them and I found this.

It has your name on it.

- What is it?

- I have no idea.
It's taped shut.

- Did he ever
mention it to you?

- No.

- Well, thank you.

- Julia?

- Oh. Yes.

- Can I ask you something?

- Yes.

- Do you know who
my real father is?

- No.

- Do you know anybody
named ray farrow?

- No, I don't.

It's all kept
quite confidential,

which I am sure
is for the best.

I assume your parents
were intelligent people--

you certainly inherited that--

who would have kept you
except for some...Problem.

- Thank you, zenaida.
Good morning, geri.

I bought you something.

It's an organizer.

- Oh. Thank you.

- You keep all your phone
numbers and addresses in it,

business associates, friends.

It's got a page for
each day of the year

so you can keep track
of all your appointments.

Do you have everything
you need?

- Mm-hmm.

I don't need anything.

- Well, if you do,
just say so.

If you need help
with anything...

You could have
a larger room if you like.

You know? Or we could
redo yours together.

Would that be fun?

- I like it the way it is.

- Well,
it was just a thought.

Listen, you tell zenaida
if there's anything special

you want at meals.

- I am not
a houseguest, Julia.

- I didn't say
you were, did I?

- You never had time for me.

You've always been too busy.

I might as well be
invisible around here.

- Laird was the one who
decided to adopt a child.

He picked you
and that was that.

- You weren't here much.

- In my family we were
brought up to do things
for other people,

to work for
the larger good,

to make the world
a better place.

- You never
wanted me, did you?

- I wanted what laird wanted...

What made him happy.

- But it didn't
work out, did it?

- No, not quite.

- And now that he's gone,

without him here, you don't
know what to do with me,

and I don't know how
to relate to you.

I think it's
time for a change.

I know you tried, at times,

and I thank you for that,

but I can't stay here right now.

We are becoming strangers,

more than we were.

- Geri!

Welcome to the woods! Ohh!

- It's so beautiful
from the air.

I'd forgotten--so many trees.

- Less every day.

- So, will Barney
be back while I'm here?

- I doubt it--oh, no,
he's gonna come back

to pick up the mg parked
in the drive, nothing else.

We've agreed to part
for a few weeks.

Don't worry.
It's just temporary.

Actually, it's a relief.

It's the first thing
we've agreed on in years.

It's funny, the way you
fight about things when
you don't get along.

We even argued
about the weather.

"Honey, I'm cool."

"Cool? It's not cool.
I'm sweating."

Final straw was
selling the forest.

He couldn't wait.

"Let's cash in,"
he says, "move to Florida."

Every insect with wings
flies to that state

and bites you on the way.

Where's the food?

Student waiters.

I sat for an hour last week,
almost starved.

[Sighs] I'm too old
to live in a college town.

Oh, there he is.

Great. Fruit for everybody.

- He's one of the men who
lives in the forest, isn't he?

- I suspect he is.
Poor guy, they're
everywhere up here.

- Here we go.

Thanks.

- Are you spending
the summer here?

- Um, most of the summer.

- I'm Dennis mccaw.
I go to school here.

- Hi. Geri riordan.

- Nice to meet you.

- Thanks for your
help, Dennis.

- Thank you, ma'am.

- Ma'am. Next
he'll be helping me
across the street.

- Geneva!

- Hi!

- What are you doing here?

- Well, mister, I still
get mail here sometimes.

Geri, this is Nate stone.

This is geri, laird's daughter.

- Hi, nice to meet you.

- I'm sorry to hear
about your father.

Laird was a fine man.

- How's your family?

- Oh, just fine.
My son's back at college.

Finally got over
that mono stuff.

- He had mononucleosis?

- Yeah. Lost about 6 months.

Was working too hard, I guess.

The doctor said they call it
the overachievers disease.

He prescribed
lots of bed rest.

Louis said it was like torture.

This lady here
saved the day.

She brought him
boxes of books,

things he'd never
heard of before.

- Oh, they were just
sitting on the shelf.
I'm glad it helped.

- Geneva, you know, I wasn't
sure we'd ever see you

around here
after all the...

- All the fights, the takeover?

- Yep.

Wasn't even sure you'd
speak to me after I agreed

to stay on here,
but...Well, you know,

a job's a job.

- And friends are friends.

- Let's go to the bank.

I'll see if I have any money
left, and if I do,

I'll buy us ice cream sodas.

- Um...

I'm just going
to walk around for a bit.

- Oh, ok, I'll see you in the
drug store in a few minutes.

- Ok.

- Nobody's reading your mail.

John, I promise you, there's
nobody out there to hurt you.

Now, come on.

You'll feel better.

When you feel better,
you can come back

and we'll talk
again, all right?

Come on.

Come on.

- Can I help you
with something?

- Are you in charge here?

- Ah, I'm all there is.

Leon shea.

- Geri riordan.

I want to know about those
men who live in the forest.

- Because?

- I'm adopted.

My mother's vietnamese
and my father's American.

- Ah. You, uh, in touch
with either of them?

- No, but I'd like to be.

- And you think I can help.

- Can you?

- No guarantees.

- How many of them are there,

you know, living
in the forest?

- A couple of hundred
right around here,

a few thousand total.

You think your
father's in there?

- Mm-hmm.

- Why this part
of the country?

- Just a hunch.

- Hmm. If you got hunches,
what do you need me for?

- The probabilities,
the chances,

about both my parents.

- Well, all I can say
about your mother

is she did
right by you.

Interracial children are not
treated very well in Vietnam.

They're called bui doi,
which means children
of the dust,

and they're
considered ugly.

As far as your father, if he's
in these woods, or any other,

he's not likely to
welcome you with open arms.

These guys barely escaped
the bamboo curtain.

Now they just want to get lost
behind the redwood curtain.

And they don't like people
invading their territory.

- I'm not going
to invade anybody.

- Look, most of them
have a hard enough time

dealing with day-to-day stuff,
with surviving their nightmares.

Having a long-lost daughter
show up may be something that

one of them just can't handle.

- Well, I'm going
to try anyway.

- I suggest you stay
away from the forest.

Some of those men
are dangerous,

and there is no way
to know how they'll behave.

- That's true.

- Where did you go?

I had my heart set on
a chocolate soda.

It was going to be my reward
for getting all that exercise.

- I just went into that
counseling center for a while.

- The one for vets. Why?

- I was trying to find out
more about my father.

- Laird was your father.

- He was my pal,
and a good one...

Especially when I was a kid,
but he was my adoptive father.

- You know, you're very lucky.
Most kids have no proof

when they feel there must
have been some tragic mix-up
in the hospital

and these people they live
with couldn't possibly
be their real parents.

You at least know
you were adopted.

That should be
some consolation.

- Yeah,
but I don't want to go through

life not knowing who
my real father was.

- Out of all the thousands
of men who went to Vietnam

and came back, do you
think you can find him?

- Yes.

- How?

- Well, I don't know yet,

but I have these hunches,

these feelings I have to follow.

You know, he might even be
in this forest.

- Where did you
get that hunch?

- On the airplane.

I looked down and I saw
this ocean of trees.

And then I felt it.

You know, even when I was
walking through town today,

I felt this heat on my skin.

- Oh, come on.

- Honest.

Haven't you ever
felt that before?

- Sure,
but usually it's the beginning

of a bad case of poison oak.

Ohh.

Look, I understand you
might have a lot of feelings

about all this stuff--

adoption, war--

but what can
you do, honey,

wander around the woods
calling out for your father?

Whatever guys are living
out here are doing it

because they want
to be left alone.

Most of them are army men,
you realize,

trained at great expense
to be homicidal.

They took booby traps 101
and graduated.

- That's just a stereotype,
aunt Geneva.

I can take care of myself.

- Well, then do it,
take care of yourself.

Smell the flowers.

You said you were
here to relax.

So, relax.

[Cawing]

[Dog barking]

- Excuse me!

Can you just indicate
the general direction
back to civilization?

I got turned around here
and I want to go home.

I know you can talk.

I heard you
yelling at your dog.

- [Grunts]

- Hey!
[Dog barking]

What is wrong with you?
Stop that!

- [Grunts]

- Uh! I just want to talk.

Why were you
watching the house?

Stop!

[Grunting]

- I don't have
a single family memory

that isn't connected
to these trees.

We were harvesting trees
my great-great-grandfather
planted.

I'm afraid this new company
is just going to come in
and mow them all down.

- Why did you sell?

- I didn't.

- We opened to public
stockholders 10 years ago.

They outnumbered us.

- Was your family always
in the tree business?

- Yes, as far as I know.

Oh, you see that guy
right there on the left?

He was my grandfather's
cousin, I think.

He was a wonderful woodcarver.

At least that's what
I was told as a child.

We used to have one of
his pieces around here.

I wonder what happened to it?

- Yeah,
he does look like the weirdo

of the family.

- Now, watch it,
you're in the family, too.

And an artist.

- In the same family.

I don't feel much
like it sometimes.

- Oh, of course you are.

You're a riordan
just as much as I am.

- Well,
not quite, aunt Geneva.

An Irish name
and an Asian face.

- It's not exactly
"the New York times," is it?

- What?

- The local rag, all 8 pages.

- Ha. Oh, this.
Um, well, actually,

it's fun to read, especially
the, uh, sheriff's reports.

- Yeah. Lady complained
about cow in kitchen,
deputy investigated.

It keeps you on the
edge of your seat.

I heard you play keyboard.

- Uh, yeah, a little.

- You know, we've got
a great little band up here.

I play bass.

We've got a terrific
lead guitar player.

You want to jam
with us sometime?

- Um, I don't think I'd
be right for your group.

I only play classical music.

- Ohh.

Ok, listen, how about
some coffee, or do you
only drink tea?

- Oh, no,
anything with caffeine.

- Caffeine we've got.

Lots of it, right
down the street.

Uh, look, I'd really like to,
but--but I can't.

Not right now.

- Sure. Maybe some other time.

- Ask me again, ok?

- Ok.

- I'll stop if you will.

I'm quite harmless...

And alone.

I love these trees.

Don't you?

They're the whales
of the earth.

Knowing how long
they've lived here...

Thousands of years...

It must be comforting
to live among them.

I understand you might be...

Afraid of me, but I just
want to talk for a while, ok?

Uh, right here.

I won't follow
you any further.

- You think I'm blind?!

You've been following me
all the way from town!

You think I'm going to
lead you to my place?

You and your buddies, you come
back and you steal my stuff!

- Wait! I don't care
about your stuff!

- No more tricks,
no more lies!

No more, no more, no more!

No more! You stay away!

You leave me alone!

- I'm afraid I can't.

I'm a driven person
about everything.

If I leave now, I'll be back
tomorrow and the next day.

I'm incredibly stubborn,
so you might as well spend

a minute or with
me now, please.

- Throw me your bag.

- What?
- Throw me your bag.

- Uh, well, I don't
have much cash, but--

[screaming]

You can keep the cash,
ok, but I really need

a lot of the other stuff.

- Did you steal this wallet?

- No, it's mine.

- You ain't no Geraldine,

you're a Lee,
you're a Lee han or--

- no, I was adopted
by the riordans.

They gave me an American name.

- What do you want?
Why are you here?
Why are you following me?

- You see the, um,
the photo in there?

The one from Vietnam?

That group of soldiers.

It was taken
about 19 years ago.

Do you know any of those men?

- No.

- Are you sure?

- I said no.

[Muttering]

- What?

- Go. They'll get you. Go.

[Helicopter]

Ghosts, they're ghosts.

[Helicopter]

- You mean they're all dead?

- Buried.

Some walking around--ghosts.

- Like you?

Are you...

Are you my father?

Is your name ray farrow?

- No. No.

- Would you tell me
if you were?

Would you?

- Yes.

- I need to see your
eyes when you say that.

One eye is brown...

The other one is blue.

Ohh...

[Forest animal sounds]

[Coyotes howling]

[Vehicle approaching]

- Aah!

- You all right?

I came around that turn
and you were just there.

There's never anybody
on this road at night.

Here. Come on.

- Oh, Mr. stone.
- Uh-huh.

- Yeah, I'm fine.

I just want to go
to Geneva's, please?

- Come on, here.

You sure you're all right?

- Let me get this straight.

You were in the woods,

some man was
in the woods, and you fainted.

Did he jump out from behind
a tree or something?

I'm trying to construct
a plausible scenario here.

Just because you're
an 18-year-old genius

doesn't mean you know how
to take care of yourself.

- I just got a little dizzy.

- A little dizzy.

You were out for a long time.

Do you feel sick?

- No.

Just stupid.

- Well, that's a relief.

We all feel
stupid sometimes.

- I just remembered...
He's got my wallet.

- Your wallet?!

Well, we've got to do
whatever it is you do
when you lose a wallet.

Uh, I got to call
the credit card people.

I've got that
number someplace.

Oh, if I've lost it...

- Calm down, aunt Geneva,
I'm not worried.

He's not exactly
the shop-till-you-drop type.

He only seemed interested in
some photograph from Vietnam.

- Where are you?

Why are you hiding?

I'll wait.

I'll stay here
as long as it takes.

Ok.

[Dog whines]

- Oh! Oh, you startled me.

Can I help you?

- You know this girl?

- That's my niece.

- What's her name?

- Geri riordan.

It's right there.

- Who's that?

- Her father.

Well, he's dead now.

- He drink himself to death?

- Laird was my brother.

He came home from
the war very troubled.

You might understand that.

Or not.

- Does she live here?

- No.
Now, if you'll just--

- count the money.

- It's fine, I'm sure.

- Count the money!

- I'm sure it's--
well, why not?

50...

It's remarkable to get
it back with that much cash.

- Where would
I break a $50 bill?

- There are many bars here
that would happily serve

a baboon
for the price of a drink.

Not that you're
the least bit baboon-like.

- You let her follow
people around town?

- Thank you for
returning this.

- Does she ever tell
the truth about anything?

- I'm very glad
to have it back.
Now, if you'll just...

- She said her real dad's
name was ray farrow.

- You keep your
dog tags on your dog.

That's very...

This is you? Lyman fellers?

Why didn't you tell
geri your name?

- I don't like it out.

Don't...

Tell people.

- She's...

Developed this obsession
about finding her real father.

I don't know what
to do about it.

Would you like
something to eat?

- Nah, I'm ok.

- Thank you for...

- You tell your niece
I ain't her father.

Come on!

- Lyman fellers.

Why does that sound familiar?

Lyman fellers.

- I knew you'd come.

- I ain't your father.

You got that?

I ain't nobody's father.

I got nothing for you!

I got nothing for you!

- My mother's people
fought a war that lasted
half a century!

First the French,
then the Americans!

We never give up!

I'm going to follow you.

I'm going to keep
following you!

You can't get away from me!

- Now, there's a mark up
on that Ridge there.

We're going to have to...

[Indistinct conversation]

- Some of the traps, they
come up from the ground.

Some come down from the trees.

No matter, they all
do the same thing.

- This is amazing.

Where do the others live?

I never see them.

- They don't want you to.

They're--everybody
just moves around.

I was in the last group out...

On the last day...

Last hour...

Roof of the embassy.

My job was to keep
them off the choppers.

There was hundreds of South
vietnamese all wanting...

There weren't
no room for them.

And I had to kick them.

Push them off the...
The doors.

The bird never would have
lifted off the ground

if they had held on.

They'd all die right there.

- But you got out...

And came here.

Why?

Aren't you tired
of living like this?

- I don't sleep in the street,

and I don't eat garbage.

I eat ok, I sleep ok,

I don't care what
other people do.

That's them, I'm me.

- Where do you get your food?

- Different places.

There's a bakery downtown,

there's a lady who leaves
bread out sometimes for us.

- What happens
when you get sick?

Who takes care of you?

How do you keep warm
in the wintertime?

Please talk to me.
I have to know.

- Why? What are you?

You're just passing through.

- No.

No, I'm not just
passing through.

I'm trying to find some roots,
some connections.

- I ain't the one to help you.

- Well,
I think you are.

- Well, you can think
anything you want.

- Why won't you just admit it?

- I got nothing to admit!

I got nothing to admit!

Nothing!

Eh! I'm going back.

Town's that way.

- Now you go off and disappear
and that's the end of it?

- You're looking for a father.

I ain't your father.

- Then who are you?

You haven't even told
me your name.

- Dennis! Have you seen geri?

- No, not today.

- If you do, will you tell
her I'm looking for her?

- Sure, will do.

- Thanks.

- Geri?

Geri?

Geri!

- I'm in here.

- Where have you been?

I thought you were dead,
kidnapped, drugged.

- In that order?

- Oh, don't get funny
with me, miss nonchalant.

Next time, I won't
give this back to you.

Your friend from the woods and
his dog dropped by the house

earlier today.

- Here? Why?

- To show me his
dog tags, I guess.

Verbal communication is
not one of his best skills.

- What was the name
on his dog tags?

- Well, it wasn't ray farrow.

I guess that was his point.

So, can you forget
about him now?

- No.

How do we know--how do we
know they were his dog tags?

- Because they
were on his dog.

- Well, if he isn't
ray farrow...

Oh, he knows something.
I can sense that.

- You're not going to get
within 50 yards of that man
again, unless I'm there.

- He brought me
to where he lives.

I made a map on the way back.

It's somewhere--it's
somewhere near here.

It's not that far.

- Why you want this strange
person to be your father

is beyond me.

- It's not a question
of what I want
or what I don't want.

It's a question
of what is true.

- Oh, for this I have
to get lyme disease.

Look, I'm not saying
the man is trouble,

but he's not well, geri.
He's been--

I'm trying to think of a way
to talk about the man

without sounding
prejudiced or paranoid.

Well, I can't.

He's just someone
to stay away from.

- He let me follow
him last time.

He brought me to his camp.

It's, well, sort of--
it's organized.

He's not an animal.

He eats with a spoon, he tries
to keep clean, he reads.

It's not what you think.

- You really want to go
back in there, don't you?

Ok, in the morning,
together.

- Yes. Thank you.

- After breakfast.

Why...

- Thank you, thank you,
thank you.

I barely spoke English but
I spoke with an Asian accent.

Turning the rs into ls
and the ls into rs.

Ryman...

Ferrels.

Ryman ferrels.

Ryman...Raymond farrow.

Raymond farrow.

Raymond farrow.

I think we're almost there.

- You know, the redwoods
were here before the pyramids.

In a couple of years, it will
probably be a parking lot.

- Careful, there's a trap.

Hello!

- This is it?

Geri.

- Are you here?

If you are, I know you'll
come out when you want to.

You never told me his name.

Why not?

- His name is lyman fellers.

Fellers, farrow,
farrow, fellers.

Lyman, ryman, get it?

Lyman fellers, Raymond farrow.

I mean, they're close enough
to cause some confusion.

If they'd asked your mother
what your father's name was

and she said lyman fellers,

her accent would probably
make it sound like...

Both: Raymond farrow.

- That must be how it happened.

He must be my father,
but will he admit it?

- You're going to find out
if he's willing to tell you

anything about the
circumstances of your birth,

apologize for bothering him,
and we're getting out of here.

I don't want you hassling him.

- Well, if he's my father,
I'm not just going
to leave him here.

- If that's what he wants,
you certainly will.

- It's not what he wants.

- You don't know that.

- I know that.
- You do not.

- I do, too, I--I sense
things about him.

I know we have some connection

even if I don't know
exactly what it is.

- I held you in my arms.

You were nay bigger than that.

At a week old...

Your mother handed you to me.

- My mother.

What was her name?

- Laycha, uh, leah...

I can't say it right, but...

She wasn't no kid.

She owned a flower
shop like you said.

She was a beautiful lady.

Smart like you.

- Why did she give me away?

- She--she'd have kept you,

but she knew what
would have happened.

That wasn't no place
for a kid like you.

In Vietnam you'd
have been an outcast.

She wanted you here.

She wanted you to have
a life with your dad.

- With you.

You are my father, aren't you?

- No, I'm not.

I'm not your father.

- But you know who is.

- Mmm.

- Am I to understand you knew
geri's parents in Vietnam?

- That's how I knew her.

- You can pick one child
out of thousands of orphans

and recognize her
18 years later?

- I saw you in town.

It's like seeing your mother
all over again.

Same colors
she used to wear, same...

Whew.

See, your dad
was real proud.

He had us come in the back
of the flower shop

and showed you to us.

We passed you around.

He couldn't bring
your mother over here.

He already had
a wife in the states.

But he wanted to keep you.

- Then why didn't he?

- He did.

He just fixed it
with the adoption people.

- Oh, dear.

- What, he never
told any of you?

- He couldn't have told any
of us without Julia knowing

sooner or later.

- Laird was my father?

- Your father was
always restless.

As a boy and as a man.

Always wanting to be
more than he was.

He was no good at business,
making money.

He had no ambitions
in that direction.

All he ever wanted to be
was a concert pianist.

But he was afraid he didn't
have what it takes,

so he gave up on that idea

and he hated himself
for giving it up.

Maybe that's why he went
to Vietnam. I don't know.

- He really wanted me
to know, didn't he?

Otherwise, he wouldn't
have left me that box

with the photograph in it.

Pressed flower must have
been my mother's.

But why?

Why was he so afraid that
he couldn't be open?

Was it--was it because of Julia?

- Don't judge him, honey.

He was fighting battles
we know nothing about.

I know he loved Julia and
he would never hurt her.

Couldn't share his secret.

Finally, he couldn't
live with it.

- I just wish
he could've told me.

I just wish he...

I just wish he could've told me.

Laird was playing this one day

and I sat down beside him
and started playing
the piece with him.

I was about 6.

He was so surprised

that tears started
rolling down his cheeks.

I asked him why he was crying,
and he said that sometimes

people cry because they're
so happy they can't laugh.

He told me that if I trusted
my feelings and followed
where they took me,

I'd find out who I was.

But he didn't tell me
that once I got there,
I'd miss him so much.

[Playing]

- My dad had a garage
I worked in.

We used to drag race
muscle cars

using little jet heads.

I met this girl
at a race once.

I asked her what
kind of perfume.

She said it was just soap.

I used to go into drug stores
and smell all the soaps.

Never found it.

- You can smile.

- I don't know how
to be with people.

I ain't got nothing for them.

- You gave me a lot already.

You gave me my father.

- I, uh...

Made you something.

- Thank you.

You know, you don't have
to live like this.

You could come out
of the forest.

I could help...

When you're ready.

- Hmm.

- How will I find you?

- You found me once.

Maybe next time I'll find you!

[Piano playing]

[Cheering and applause]