Standing on Fishes (1999) - full transcript
A comedy named after a poem, that shows (besides a lot of nudity) how various people see art much differently than others.
♪
[phone ringing]
Hello? Oh hi, Mom.
Mom, what's wrong?
Mom. Mom, I can't hear you.
Put the phone closer.
What happened?
What do you?
When?
Why are you?
When's the funeral?
[door knobs shakes,
knocking at door]
WOMAN: Hello!
Hello! Caleb.
Uh-huh.
[knocking continues]
Well, I don't know if I'm going
to be able to make the Mass.
Well, because I got
to finish this thing.
No,
it's a entirely different thing.
Are you OK?
Did you call Lauren?
[glass breaks]
Mom, listen,
I'm really sorry but--
Mom, I'm very sorry, but I--
I'm going to have
to call you back.
Erica is here.
Why won't you open this door?
Mom, seriously,
I--I'm going
to have to call you back.
I love you too.
Bye-bye.
Ah fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Are you OK, sweetie?
No. No.
No, I'm not fucking OK.
Use your innate sense
of observation.
-You're an artist.
-It didn't go well?
No. No. No, it didn't go well
for fuck's sake.
What do you think? Look at me.
I'm sorry.
You want to talk about it?
Oh.
Get up!
Get up!
Sit down. OK.
Now, I'm you.
That makes you, me.
I've been sitting all night
in the nice candlelight
listening to geriatric favorites
or whatever
working on whatever that is.
You have just had the worst,
most humiliating audition
of your life.
The sheer soul killing terror of
which is only compounded
by the nightmare
known as the 405 freeway.
You drive all the way out
to the valley
in, like,
sluggish rush hour hell,
could've gone
to your own house, right?
Which is only a few minutes
from the audition, but no.
Listen. I'm sorry.
You want me to get you
something?
But it's Wednesday. Yeah.
And that's one of the nights
that you've agreed to spend
at your boyfriend's house.
Your boyfriend
who says he loves you
and supports you
regardless of your intensity
which he says just makes
you all the sexier.
And then when you finally get
there, he locks you out.
-I was talking to my mother.
-Who hates me!
All right. All right.
That's game. That's game.
I'm putting you in the bath.
You need the treatment.
Oh God.
Is that the full
treatment or just a bath?
Disrobe and find out.
[sighs]
[groans]
How was your day, sweetie?
Uh, I was perfect for that part.
I am Rocket Girl.
Don't laugh.
Perfect for that thing.
You saw what I wore?
None of the other people
at that audition
went in there putting
any effort into it whatsoever.
I walk in looking
like a complete asshole.
You're enthusiastic.
That's a gift.
I can't do this anymore.
Oh, little hot house flower.
How was your day?
My grandma died.
I guess she couldn't find
her nitro pills.
You know how cluttered
her house is with all those
tea cups and spoons.
She couldn't remember
how to dial 911. So...
You OK?
Yeah. It's weird.
I wasn't that close to her.
Just when I was little
she used
to give me baths in this sink.
Do you have to go
to the funeral?
Well, I want to go.
Oh no, I know.
Just when is that happening?
I don't know.
I got to call my mom back.
I'm really sorry, Caleb.
Let me get you a towel.
Have you finished the thing yet?
[Caleb chuckles]
I got a lot
of work done on it tonight.
And I found some very lucid
gynecological resource books
that helped.
I just have some smoothing
and some texturing to do.
Oh, that is gross.
It's just sculpting
like anything else.
No, it isn't. It's tainted.
Hiring someone to actually
construct a prosthetic vagina?
I mean, that borders
on the pathological
or extreme indulgence.
Well,
what are they supposed to do?
I mean, they hired this woman
with the explicit understanding
she might have to show
some muff.
Oh. Oh, my God.
That is so demeaning.
What do you want me to call it?
Oh, I don't know let's see,
twat, fur biscuit,
soft shell taco?
Her private region.
Really muff,
that is so unlike you.
You sound like a beer soaked
frat boy idiot.
She agreed to do the nudity.
OK, that's not nudity, Caleb.
That is male-repressed
aggressive bullshit preying
on the sexual insecurities
of some actress,
like it's some tremendous
catharsis
to spread your legs
for a camera.
It's a job.
There are other kinds
of acting jobs, Caleb.
No, for me it's a job.
-It's demeaning for both of you.
-You haven't even seen it.
Well, yeah.
I know what one looks like.
No, but I've made this
from nothing.
Honey, I think one would be
equally correct
in stating you copied it
from nature.
What? Why?
Don't get insulted.
Why not get insulted
when you insult me?
I didn't mean anything.
You totally belittled what I do.
You are capable of much more
interesting work than this.
That's not the point.
This is what I'm doing
right now.
This is what's been taking
weeks of work and research,
of a building up
and tearing down,
trying to reveal some subtlety.
This is my work right now.
OK, but you're missing
the whole point.
The very nature of this project
is beyond any kind of subtlety.
It is a woman's vagina
for Christ's sake.
That is blatant non-imaginative
exploitation.
But my contribution
is different.
No, Caleb.
You're different.
You're an artist
but your contribution
in this instance is
to facilitate this whole
degenerative process.
That is really unfair.
You haven't even seen it.
Put it up here.
-Can I touch it?
-No, the clay's still soft.
Haven't made a mold of it yet.
OK.
Interesting.
You hate it.
It's that all the hair
it's going to have?
I don't know.
It's not my department.
Because right now,
all bald like that
it looks like a little girl's
which is sick enough
but on a grown woman, oh really.
Man! Hollywood never ceases
to amaze me.
Caleb.
Caleb, I think you're brilliant.
I might not think
that everything you do is.
You know what?
That sounds just like something
my mother would say.
-Wow.
-Yeah.
Get into bed.
OK. Come on.
I love you, sweetie.
I love what you do.
It's OK. Forget it.
Come here. Come here.
[sighs]
Oh God,
I had such a shitty day.
I look forward to this clinch
all day long. I missed you.
I missed how you smell
and how you hold me.
I want your hands on me.
Just put your hands on me.
Oh God.
I just need to breathe.
OK wait. Wait honey, honey,
honey.
Slow. Just go slower, OK?
OK let me feel
your hands and I'll....
Kiss me.
[grunts]
OK.
Oh, God damn it.
Ugh.
You're going too fast OK?
I can't come like that.
Not after the day that I had.
And you know the day I had,
Jesus.
I'm sorry.
I just need some tenderness,
some slow thick hands.
I know. I know.
OK.
Slowly.
Here.
You know, like you enjoy it.
What the fuck does that mean?
Oh, Christ,
don't make that mean anything.
What--what does that mean?
You don't think I enjoy it?
No. I just, I think
that you're only thinking
about you getting off.
You know,
I mean you're wrestling around
on top of me
like I'm not even here.
Well, what do you want me to do?
Ugh. I had a hard day, Caleb.
I need to come hard.
I need the release.
Let me go down on you.
No. Oh no! Not like that.
That is not spontaneous.
It's not loving.
You have to want to.
I...I want to.
OK.
Slow.
Ow, ow, ow. Shit.
God, did you shave?
It's like you're rubbing
me with sandpaper.
Bullshit, Erica.
Why? What?
Why are you so angry?
This is bullshit, Erica.
I can't have sex like this.
This isn't even sex.
This is like Nazi aerobics.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Oh, my God.
You're making this mean
something.
This does mean something.
I'm telling you my needs.
What I need. Is that so awful?
No, your needs are fine.
But this is
two-party masturbation.
Sex is supposed to happen
between two people.
Like a team, you know,
I do a little something,
you do a little something,
like a dance.
I had the fucked day
and all I wanted was just
a little tenderness
and some slow hands.
All you can do is lock me out of
your house and then yell at me.
This is--this is so fucked.
So now you're leaving?
We're having a confrontation
about our needs,
and you're leaving.
We're not having
a confrontation.
We're having an argument.
This is an argument, Erica,
and I'm sick of this bullshit!
I got an early morning
with Jason.
We got to go over the RTV
we're going to use.
I got to get final approval
on the piece.
I got all these things
I got to do
and all you can think
about is your day.
What happened in your day?
Well, Caleb, if you have
some unresolved issues
about your day,
we can discuss them.
You don't have
to get all dramatic.
Everything is unresolved!
Look at me for Christ's sake.
I got a mortgage due
on this place every month
I can barely afford.
I got a guest house I have
to rent that is so fucking small
people are afraid
to even look inside of it.
You come over
like some guilt-slinging tornado
screaming "me, me, me!"
You know my grandmother who used
to give me baths in this sink,
she died today and I make
fake fucking twats for a living!
What?
No, that is not funny.
-[Erica laughs]
-That is tragically unfunny.
I'm serious. I'm in hell,
and you only made it worse.
I'm sorry, sweetie.
Come here.
No. You're selfish.
I am. We all are. I'm sorry.
Now come here.
You really suck.
I do. I'm horrible,
unapproachable.
Now get into bed.
Put your head down on me.
Right.
I'm wicked and hateful
and indulgent.
Now go to sleep.
Fuck.
Some kind
of music was playing, faintly.
Some gothic folk something
just sort of warming
the background.
Candles were everywhere
like some kind
of artificial daylight
and we were completely entwined,
meshed like...
mmm, like one skin.
And she tilted her head back
and she had this amazing throat,
long like a Modigliani
and these sounds
start to escape from her
and it takes me a moment.
It took me a moment,
but I realized
she was saying something.
So I moved into her
and she was calling the angels.
She was summoning the thousands
of tiny unborn souls
that were circling us
at that moment,
whispering to be incarnated.
And I realized
this woman understands.
This woman knows that the child
has to be set free.
She holds the key
to our heart's existence.
And we're moving
like one animal now.
Strong and vascular
like deep chords of music.
And I just...lost it.
You came inside her?
Tell me you didn't come
inside her.
Not really.
Not really.
You pulled out?
At the last minute
I had a flash of clarity
and I thought,
"What the fuck am I doing?"
So I edged out a bit.
You edged out?
What does that mean?
I got out as soon as I realized
what I was doing.
You edged out? Did you pull out?
Did you pull it out in time?
I think I did, yes.
Why don't you
just wear a condom?
We've had this conversation.
What if you got
this woman pregnant?
I'd raise the child.
It would be mine. I don't have
a problem with that.
-How long have you known her?
-What difference does that make?
-How long?
-Tuesday.
-Last Tuesday?
-This Tuesday.
Two days?
That's two days,
and you're not wearing a condom.
What difference does it make?
There was a connection.
That only takes a second.
Besides, I want to be a father.
You are insane.
How are you going to be a father
when you're dead?
No one is dying.
They have a cocktail now.
I find out I have AIDS.
I get a few shots.
It's not even remotely
that simple.
How long have you known Erica?
Almost two years.
Do you ever talk about children?
I know you want
to have children.
It takes a long time
to get to know someone.
You had another fight
didn't you?
No.
Yes. No. I don't know.
I don't even know
if it's fighting anymore.
It's just become
the way we relate.
Well, that can't be good.
No.
I finished the mold.
So you think you two
will stay together?
Did you spray
that with clear coat?
-Shit, I forgot.
-Get me some thinner, 2%.
Yeah.
Oh, man! I'm really sorry.
I wasn't thinking.
That's all right.
I'm just a little rushed.
Verk wants to see a cast
of this thing by lunch tomorrow.
-That soon?
-Well, yeah it's a business.
This is an $8,000 rubber cooch
for Christ's sake.
-You look tired, Caleb.
-I am.
Spray the fucker.
♪
[phone ringing]
[machine clicks]
CALEB: Hi, this is Caleb.
You've reached
Morpheus Special Effects.
I'm not here right now,
so leave a message.
[beep]
WOMAN [on machine]:
Hello, Caleb. This is Camille.
Yeah.
I read about your guest house
in the paper.
I'm very intrigued.
Caleb, that's a beautiful name.
It's from the Bible, isn't it?
Caleb.
I'd love to know more about you,
Caleb, when you get a chance.
-[beep]
-I'm a sculptor.
Well, an effects technician,
really.
Hello? Hello?
You want to see the guest house?
Wait. You want to rent it?
Look, I should tell you.
It's--it's very--
No, trust me, please,
it's very small.
It's in the valley.
Yeah. I, uh, I could give you
the address.
Mm-hmm. Could I just ask you
what it is you do?
No, for a living.
You--you're a sculptor?
Sorry?
A sculptress.
[click]
MAN: And she said she'd take it
just like that?
That's what she said.
Did you tell her
how small it is?
Never got the chance.
What is she going to do,
live there by herself?
She's a sculptor.
She sells her pieces out
of her dad's gallery near Davis.
She just needs
room for herself and the clay.
[sighs]
Man, you are so lucky.
What do you mean?
Don't you realize who this is?
-Jason.
-Caleb.
This is your angel, man.
This is the one.
No questions.
Total commitment to the space.
A sculptor.
What more do you want?
-What's her name?
-I don't even want to tell you.
Why not?
Promise me
you won't make it mean anything.
Camille.
Oh, my God!
Fuck. I got to go.
What time is it?
It's 20 to 12:00.
I got to go. I got to meet
Richard Verk in half an hour.
How did the thing turn out?
Well, we'll see.
Caleb...
this is a magnificent time
to be alive.
Caleb, Janice.
We spoke on the phone.
Please, sit down.
This is Richard Verk.
Do you need an iced tea?
Do I need one?
Another iced tea, por favor.
That's so rude.
What's rude?
I assume he speak Spanish.
-You should never assume.
-Children, children.
Let's not squabble
over such non-issues.
There, you see
the beverages arrived?
Now, everybody may
refresh themselves.
[police siren passes by]
Well, let's get down
to business.
Have you brought it with you?
-I'm sorry, what?
-The thing, the prize,
the great compromise
that's kept me up all hours,
nearly ruining
my artistic vision.
Do you have it?
Oh, the thing.
Yes, yes, I have it.
I have it right here.
Well, may I see it?
Here?
I have to avenge with it.
Now? Right--right now?
Is there a problem, Caleb?
Did they bring this sweetener
for your tea?
Oh, I don't--
I don't need anything.
No, there's no problem.
I just thought Mr. Verk would--
Please. Call him Richard.
Call me Richard.
Richard,
would like to see it in a more--
or rather less--public arena.
Arena?
You used the word arena.
That's very interesting.
An arena, as in a circus.
That's apropos really.
This is like a circus.
A laughless circus.
If this is indeed an arena,
this place a stage
for spectacle and daring.
Show us your act, Caleb.
Join us.
Will you join our circus, Caleb?
Oh, my God.
Yes.
Let me look at it.
Oh, that is disgusting.
Oh no it's not.
Quite the contrary.
It's a compliment really.
He rendered it so lifelike.
I just assumed it must emit
some odor, however faint.
Do you want have a look
at it, Henry?
No thank you, Richard.
I don't have much experience
with those.
Hmm. Really it's lovely.
-It's so light.
-It's high-density silicone.
It's a little warm
to wear but strong.
That's something, isn't it?
I guess.
Good Lord.
It really is lovely.
It's remarkable.
Maybe I should do
a "comedia del'arte" piece.
I could have all the actors
wear this sex on their faces.
HENRY:
It's time to be getting back--
I've got a meeting with Anna.
RICHARD:
You know I really am impressed.
A little too impressed,
actually.
It's lovely,
but it's another movie entirely.
Seeing it now,
I realized that I really need
something a bit more O'Keefe.
Georgia O'Keefe?
Exactly.
You're so bright.
You've seen them, those lovely,
strong water colors.
Orchids and lilies,
like great breathing vaginas.
Uh, yeah.
Yeah, that's more what we need.
This is a bit too...
on the nose.
Are you with me?
Uh...well, actually, heh.
I was under the impression that
this piece was going to work
in about 1/8 of a second
of film,
just when she uncrosses
her legs.
How did you know that?
It was in the job order.
I read the script.
-Where did you get a script?
-You read the script?
I want the option, Caleb,
to discover, if necessary.
OK. I'm sorry.
-No, no, it's all right.
-It can be fixed.
It's going to have to be fitted.
Yes, yes.
Have you met Anna McCaphrey?
-No.
-You have Friday free?
Friday it is.
I'm sorry I don't think
I can make Friday.
Is there some sort of problem?
I have a...
well, I have a thing on Friday.
What sort of thing?
Can't we do it any other day?
No.
This is important, Caleb.
This is the show.
What do you have?
If you don't mind my query.
Oh, well...
my--my grandmother just died.
She died a few days ago,
and well,
the funeral is this Friday.
You were very close?
-Not really.
-Then it's settled.
I'll talk to Anna's assistant.
She'll get in touch with you.
But I told my mother--
Caleb, it's really very simple.
This business is
about sacrifice.
Let me tell you a little story.
My mother
missed my high school graduation
because she had to be backstage
for opening night
for one of her clients.
Now, at the time,
I was heartbroken.
But that actress went on
to win the Tony Award
for the best performance.
I always felt a little
responsible for that.
When I got married
she had a similar conflict.
But that actor won
the People's Choice Award
and a Golden Globe.
Two weeks later, I got a gift
basket with some bath salts,
and a typed note that says,
"Sure you'll be happy.
Hope it lasts. Mom."
But four years ago
when she died,
I was on the set
of Richard Verk's
breakthrough film,
The Right to Remain Silent.
I couldn't make the funeral
but that film did
over a $130 domestic
and three times that foreign.
Sacrifice is what has made
all of these tremendous things
possible.
Now trust me.
I know it's harsh.
But this is your moment
to shine.
It may not come again,
either you want it or you don't.
Do you have my number?
Of course.
Caleb.
This could lead to other things.
Sure.
Hi.
I didn't hear you.
Well, that's because you were
listening to the clay.
I thought you might be hungry.
Christ, that's quite a feast.
Yes, well,
and I delivered it myself.
I assume if you're following
the usual pattern
you haven't eaten yet.
You assumed correct, my lady.
Well, so stop your trifling
over there.
Come join me
in this most exquisite repast.
Where do you want to eat?
Well, over here on the table
of course.
Where you create,
we shall nourish ourselves.
What's this for?
Same thing.
Oh, are they doing
Little Shop of Horrorsnow?
I had a meeting with Verk.
He said he wanted some changes.
-I guess he wanted the option.
-Option to what?
Break into songs
about fertilizer?
Actually, it had something to do
with artistic vision,
whatever that means.
Hey, didn't you have
a callback today?
Now why would you want
to go ruin
this lovely old evening
with talk like that?
Was it that bad?
Picture this.
I walk into a room
with every faux-chested,
collagen-lipped actress
in Hollywood.
Some of them even have these
little futuristic outfits on,
so I'm feeling really lame
in this dress.
I sit down,
start going over the sides.
The casting assistant,
she squeaks out
of her little office
and she hands me
another set of slides.
Well, now I'm feeling
pretty good, right?
No outfit,
but I put an extra set of slides
which is more than these
silicone losers have.
Then I looked down and I see it.
"Engine technician one."
OK, scroll to cross the page.
Well, time folded right then
and there and I saw myself,
40 years old with bad caps doing
dinner theater in Michigan.
I thought this is it, I'm out.
This is not what
six years living in New York
fighting winters
and roaches and assholes
with too much hair gel
was all about.
You have two years
with the best acting teacher
in the country, Caleb.
Working for tips
on Christmas eve,
auditioning for any part
that like might have a line,
wear that fucking
chicken costume in front
of Madison Square Garden.
Oh, my God.
Why am I going there?
Anyway, I had an epiphany.
I'm quitting.
Yeah I'm going to be doing
photography full-time.
I already lined up a couple
of suckers for headshots.
So, that's it.
I'm happy.
Wow. That's a lot of change
for one day.
Yeah, well, not really.
I mean,
it's been coming in a long time.
I'm just--I'm sick of doing
what doesn't make me happy
in the hope that someday
it might.
That's amazing.
And I'm really proud of you.
-To the unknown.
-To the unknown.
I missed you.
I really missed you.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for all my shit.
You know, it's like
I get so scared.
I get so scared.
I get so wrapped up.
And I could get--
I know, it's OK.
I want you to know
how much I treasure you, Caleb.
I'd get you.
God, I'm so glad you were born.
[metal clanging]
What are you doing?
What are you doing?
Well, I'm trying to--
this table is very uneven.
OK.
Well, hold on, hold on, hold on.
Let me rotate down a little.
-Ouch
-Aw.
-Shit.
-What?
My knees are, like, digging
into this table.
OK. All right, hey, turn over.
No, this is fine.
Oh, it's not fine.
Look at your face.
You look like you're
doing your income tax.
-Well, I'm in pain.
-OK, then stop.
But you wanted to.
Don't make this about me, OK.
You were right there with me.
Oh, let's forget it.
Oh, my God.
Did you lose your erection?
Jesus!
Well, did you? It's not
like anybody's here to hear us.
Well, obviously for not fucking,
I've lost my erection.
-All right, God, calm down.
-Let's just forget it.
It's all right.
God, it's all right.
I can masturbate.
No.
Why not? I'm horny.
What are you like some kind
of spy missile?
You get a program in
and you have to carry it out
no matter what?
Hey that's just mean, all right?
I didn't throw you losing
your erection in your face.
-Yes, you did.
-Well, I just mentioned it.
Can't you just not do
that right now?
Can't we just be together?
I don't see
what the big deal is.
I feel like an ornament
or something.
I mean you go off
and please yourself
while I'm over here staring
at the fucking ceiling.
OK. OK. OK, honey. Come here.
You can do it for me.
I'm sorry, I'm just--
I'm just not in the mood.
So that
means I shouldn't be either?
No. That means that out of
consideration for me,
for what I'm feeling,
you'll just not do that.
I'm sorry. I really,
I thought our relationship was
like a whole different kind
of relationship.
-Well, what does that mean?
-Well, I just thought
that we could be ourselves
around one another,
you know, and not hide
behind any bullshit premises.
Hey, I don't think what
I'm feeling is bullshit, Erica.
I'm asking you not to masturbate
in front of me.
Is that so difficult
to understand?
OK and I am asking you
for the freedom and support
that I thought
this relationship was built on.
Look, if you want to play
with yourself so bad,
then play with yourself!
Oh, my God.
Why does this always happen?
Why? It's like we disagree.
And instead of it just being
what it is
it becomes this whole thing,
-you know, full of meaning.
-These are my feelings, Erica.
Yes,
they're your feelings, Caleb.
Well, I have feelings too.
God, why are your feelings
more important than mine?
That's not what I'm saying,
all right?
Making love takes two people.
Two people have to be involved.
Who says?
It's just sex, OK?
I mean that's it.
People can make it mean
whatever they want.
They can fuck.
They can make love.
One person can masturbate
the other can watch.
Whatever, you know.
I mean, it all comes
down to what you make it mean.
I don't know.
I don't believe that.
I think it does mean something
when another person is present,
it means something.
Oh? That's very interesting
coming from a guy
who carts a rubber vagina
around town for a living.
-Fuck you.
-Why?
That has nothing to do
with anything.
Why not? I mean the act is
so sacred to you
I thought the parts that
went along with it would be too.
I don't even know what
we're talking about anymore.
OK. You know what then?
Come here.
Let's not talk about it.
-Are you mad?
-Uh-uh.
I just think
we have some issues.
Well, if it's me, I'm sorry.
If it's you?
Is that, I'm sorry,
is that you trying to take
responsibility or something?
God, I'm so sick of this shit.
Look, I'm sorry I just have
a lot on my mind.
I got an early meeting with
Anna McCaphrey in the morning.
You're meeting Anna McCaphrey?
Well, yeah, I got to fit her
with the prosthesis.
Why do you have to meet her?
Well, I guess
I could reach my measuring tape
around her body
and never introduce myself
but it's not the best way
to have a client relationship.
Oh so now she's a client?
Well, yeah she's wearing
the thing.
I am sorry. I thought you're
in a meeting with Verk.
I thought you were working
with Verk.
Hey, don't make
this mean anything, Erica.
Are you going to her house?
I don't know, whatever is
convenient for her, I guess.
Do you want to go to her house?
I don't care.
I just want to do the job,
get it over with, get paid.
Aren't you curious?
-About what?
-How she must live a rich,
gorgeous, terrible actress
like her.
Whew! She must have
a horror show for a house.
I don't think
she's a bad actress.
Oh puhlease, did you see her
in The Right to Remain Silent?
Did you for one second, buy her
as a cop with all the hair?
"Hey freeze, assholes.
You have the right
to remain silent."
The way she would like leave
her gun here,
I mean she's
like a mud-wrestling fantasy.
She had some moments
in that other thing she did.
Oh yeah right,
the waitress thing.
Come please!
The woman's not waited a table
in her life.
-You don't know that.
-She's limited at best.
You're not the same type
so you shouldn't worry about it.
What the fuck
is that supposed to mean?
You're nothing like each other,
that's all.
Why? Because I won't flash
my twat and flip my hair
a thousand times
for a camera crew?
Look,
what difference does it make?
You quit.
That's right.
I quit.
I'm entitled to my opinion.
[vehicle approaches]
-[thunder]
-Shit.
Hello.
Sorry.
I waited.
Right. Oh you're--
you're Camille, right?
Yeah.
OK. You want to come inside?
You really don't have
to show me the place.
I know what I want it.
I have all my stuff.
Yeah, you brought everything?
Yeah.
You're serious?
You haven't even seen it.
I have money.
Well, that's good but I'd like
to know something about you.
I knew everything
about you from your voice.
Oh.
Where did you live last?
At home.
Did you make these sculptures?
Yeah.
Did you pay rent there?
They're just
how I imagined them.
You work from your dreams too.
Yes, sometimes.
All the time.
Have--have you lived
any place else?
No.
No other place seemed right.
Do you want to help me unpack
my things? I don't have much.
I don't know.
I got to think about this.
-Why?
-Well, you know, we just--
Does somebody else want
to live there?
Oh no, no.
I can't even get people
to look inside of it.
I have money.
It's, um...
first and last and security.
Right.
Well...show you the place.
It's perfect.
It's just how I imagined it.
Oh, glad you like it.
-One room.
-Sorry?
One room.
It's like the center of a body.
It's like a perfect seashell.
Great bloodless heart.
[exhales]
Sit down.
OK.
Do you remember
when you were little?
You could look on something
for hours and hours
and see all different shapes
inside the one thing.
Yeah.
You could look
at a candle flame or a rose bud
and see world
after world inside it.
And the deeper you looked
the less you felt like yourself.
You felt like the flame
or the flower.
It's so simple.
What's it like now?
It's different.
It's harder.
Listen, I'm going to go.
But if you need anything
I'm just in that front house,
OK?
OK.
OK.
[door creaks closes]
I need something.
You do?
I need you
to keep talking to me.
-Keep telling me things.
-We don't even know each other.
Not yet,
but it's becoming clear.
How did you know
that I work from my dreams?
Same way anyone would,
by looking at your work.
A lot of people
have seen my work.
Heh. Yeah. But how many
have actually looked at it?
I don't know.
Maybe you're the first.
When a sculpture of mine
wants to be born,
I get a visit
from the moth fairy.
Moth fairy?
She only comes to me
late at night
and only on certain nights.
When my heart is in love with my
mind and my mind becomes full.
Then she lights on my pillow
and she tells me in her little
winged voice what it's to be.
The hardest part is remembering.
Remembering the feeling
when you first find out
what you're about to make.
Once you have that,
the rest just follows.
[thunder]
It's all there really is.
I think we were born
with everything
and then the world starts
to fill us up, and we forget.
You actually make your living
selling your artwork.
You're funny.
Heh.
That makes it more real to you,
doesn't it?
If people would part
with their money
to possess
what they already have
but have forgotten they have,
yeah, people buy it.
I'm on a two-year backorder.
Really?
Yeah.
You can work magic, Caleb.
That hasn't been my experience.
First you have to believe it.
[thunder]
What are you smiling about?
You're fucking radiant.
-Oh, my God.
-What? What happened?
You'll never believe
what I did last night.
Do I know her?
Oh, my God!
This is so not like me.
-Bullshit, what happened?
-Camille.
And she moves in just like that.
Really?
She starts talking to me, right,
talking to me like she knows me
and understands me.
She sells her sculptures.
She has this moth fairy thing.
She makes magic happen...
And you fucked her, right?
No, but we kiss,
and it was incredible.
I didn't know
what I was doing or why.
We just meshed together.
This sounds more like you.
Have you told Erica yet?
Fuck, no. I have to do that.
Why?
Because we have
a relationship based on trust.
Caleb, you spent last night dry
humping the moth fairly lady,
I think any trust
you might have had is broken.
Fuck, fuck you're right.
I'll tell her later.
What time is it?
It's almost 10:00.
Where are you rushing off
to now?
I got a call from
Anna McCaphrey's assistant
this morning.
She says I got to be at
her house by 2:30.
-Is this normal?
-I don't know. You want to go?
Fuck no.
This is why you're the boss.
-I could make you.
-You're right. You could.
But you're not that kind
of boss.
Just go. You'll walk in there,
she'll be completely charmed
by you.
Either of that,
or you'll piss her off,
and you'll never work
in this town again.
What difference does it make?
It will be
an interesting experience.
♪
Hello.
[birds chirping]
Hello.
Perfect.
♪
Hey, you can't park
the car here, pal.
I'm only going to be a second.
Sorry, you can't park
the car here.
Please, I just have
this little thing I have to do,
and then I'll be out of here.
I just need to find
Anna McCaphrey.
I wish I could help you.
You can't park the car here.
-I'll pay you.
-Oh, great.
I will pay you $20
if you let me park my car here
for five minutes.
Shit, OK $5, but it's still
a dollar a minute.
Look, pal,
I wish I could help you out,
but I could really lose my job.
You can't park your car here.
-Janice, Janice.
-Where the hell have you been?
Two hours late.
I was told to meet
at Anna McCaphrey's house.
You cannot park your car here.
Give me your keys.
-What?
-Keys.
Park it in the crew lot.
Bitch.
This is really unprofessional
behavior, Caleb.
Verk is having
a fucking coronary.
I was told to meet at her house.
Did you check your service?
-Yes.
-Recently?
I don't know. I checked
before I left my house.
You got to be more
on top of things, Caleb.
Things change at light speed
in this business.
-You should know that.
-I'm sorry.
Richard is going
to go ballistic.
He's probably going to make me
listen to that damn story
about his cockney childhood
again.
You know, he had me
so tense at our live show,
I stopped having my period.
What am I saying?
Why am I telling you this?
I don't know. It's OK.
My mother had a similar problem.
Your mother?
Really?
Now I'm like your mother?
Oh, terrific.
-No, I didn't mean it like--
-I know. I know. I know.
Look, I'm not usually like this.
I'm a very compassionate person.
I want you to know
that no matter what happens,
I think that you're more likely
than not
a very pleasant young man.
I'm not really sure what it is
that you do or how you do it.
But I'm sure that you're
very good at whatever it is
that you do
and you'll be
however good you can be.
OK?
OK, showtime.
Come on, come on.
I see the messenger
is finally here.
I'm really sorry.
Don't grovel.
Did you at least bring it
with you?
Oh! That is fabulous.
My goodness, well done.
All right then, my boy.
Bring her in!
VERK: Bring her in.
Vera.
Vera!
Put Vera back on,
you little bastard.
Vera sweetie, what did we talk
about the last time
I came in for a facial?
No, I will remind you.
Organic cucumbers.
Yes, it's important,
because the store-bought ones
are yucky and burn me.
Well, I am telling you
they've burned me.
You put those little pieces
of store-bought cucumbers
in my eyes again,
I will have immigration
on your ass so fast you won't
have time for a fucking Belini!
Damn it.
What the fuck is going on?
I still have 1/2 an hour
in make up.
All right, just shut up.
Don't be a tart.
I have a surprise for you.
I've spent many
a sleepless night
pondering your adamant refusal
to do the pussy shot.
Frankly, I believe
that every young starlet
should have at least one
tastefully lit pussy shot.
But that's just me.
Richie. Richie, we have
talked about this.
Either get me a body double,
or make a piece.
I guess I have taken
your suggestions too heart.
We may now dispel the rumor that
I don't listen to my actors.
By way of reconciliation
and in the dire hope of getting
this film back on schedule
and near budget,
I offer you this, a compromise.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Richie.
Strap it on. Strap it on.
Strap it on.
Look at me, look at me,
look at me, look at me.
Whoa. Am I sexy?
You look like a rhododendron.
Either that or you have
the worst yeast infection
in history.
Oh God, Richie,
you're fucking nuts.
Yes, I always will be.
-I love you.
-By the way,
that is the most expensive
flower I've ever bought a woman.
Muah!
-ANNA: Look at me! Look at me!
-Back to work.
ANNA: Freeze, asshole, you have
the right to remain silent.
MAN: All right everybody
back to number one.
This is for you.
They never were going to use it,
were they?
You've been good sport.
You know,
you have no idea how hard
I worked on that.
Oh, yes, I do.
[door closes]
[thunder]
Jesus!
Sorry, I didn't mean
to scare you.
It's all right.
What are you doing?
Do you think I can get an
advance on next week's salary?
Sure, what for?
I just had some expenses
this month I didn't anticipate.
How much do you think
you'll need?
However much you can spare.
How much?
I don't know. 300?
Sure.
You need it right now?
What's wrong?
It's nothing.
I just--I got this--
this thing I got to do.
What thing?
You want to tell me about it?
Will you just listen to me,
no lectures or anything?
What did you do?
Will you just be my friend
and listen to me?
Yeah.
[sighs]
That girl I was telling
you about...
she's late.
She's late, and she's just
going ahead like I don't
even fucking exist.
She calls me last week,
says she has some news.
And I knew--I knew what it was.
So we meet at this Thai place
near at her house.
She says she's late.
So we finish our seafood soup.
And we go to the mini mart.
We buy a pregnancy test
and some gum, I think,
and we go to her place.
Now her roommate's
in the shower,
so we have to wait to get
into the bathroom.
So she sits down,
and she pees on the stick,
and her roommates blasting
some speed metal or some shit.
And I see
this little blue cross appear.
And something just goes off,
inside me.
And I hand her the stick.
And she starts crying,
but all I can think about
is this--
is this--this life--
this life that's begun,
this little life that's with us
in a Los Angeles bathroom
with the music blasting
and the mother crying,
and the father wishing.
And I realize it's doomed.
I look at her,
and I don't see a mother.
I see a girl.
And I look inside myself,
and I know I'm not ready either.
And I don't know what to do,
because I...
I want that little weight
on my shoulders, you know,
and I want those--those
little eyes that close
with a kiss goodnight.
And I want that little person,
you know,
and I can't have it.
And that makes
the wanting worse.
[sighs]
You want me to drive you
down there or anything?
No, no, I just...
I just wanted you to listen.
And you did that...very well.
[phone ringing inside]
[on machine]
Hi, this is Caleb.
I'm not home right now.
But if you leave a message,
I'll call you back.
Thanks. Bye.
[beep]
WOMAN: Caleb?
Honey, are you there?
Well, I guess
you're probably still at work.
I just wanted you to know that
the funeral was beautiful
and everyone asked about you.
Honey, I wanted to tell you
that I really understand
why you couldn't come today.
I know how important
your work is,
and I'm so proud of you.
I love you. I guess that's--
[beep]
Hi.
Wow. You look sad.
I just need you to show me
how my key works again.
You just stick it in the lock
and turn it.
I know.
I keep getting it wrong.
Are you OK?
Not really.
Maybe you could talk to me.
Let's go open your door.
Well, you could talk
to me though.
I don't know what to say.
Don't say anything.
[vehicle approaches]
[sighs]
[sniffles]
The tears of an artist
are very precious.
They're supposed
to bring vivid dreams.
♪
[knocking at door]
I'll get it.
[sniffles]
Yeah, hi.
Oh, fuck.
-Hi.
-Hi.
Aren't you going
to say anything?
-I should go.
-No. Oh, no. Stay.
Erica.
This involves her.
You were--you were the one
tongue diving my boyfriend
just now, right?
Yeah.
Yeah, that's what I thought.
So you can stay.
This is bullshit.
[exhales]
Why do we all sit down.
Camille, isn't it? Yeah? Sit.
You're so calm. I'd be a mess.
Well, sweetie, that's the
difference between you and me.
Sit down.
Erica, we should do this,
just you and me.
Let me ask you something.
Are you aware
of the responsibility
that you have just taken on?
What do you mean?
Well, you've just decided
to become significant
in the life of my boyfriend.
Did you--
did you intend to do that?
I don't know.
Do you know
that you have a choice?
That you can use your sexuality
responsibility,
and then not to get attention?
-No.
-Erica.
No she needs to know this.
OK.
Tell me what happened
before I got here.
I came in to get him to let me
into my house.
You don't have a key?
No, I have a key.
I just couldn't figure out
how to get it to work.
You can't work a key.
No, I can. But--
OK, OK, OK. You come over here,
the little victim,
soliciting help from him,
right?
No, I just needed to get
into my house.
[sighs] Don't you see
how you sold yourself out?
You are perfectly capable
of opening any door
you have the key to.
You have to be effective
in your thinking and stop hoping
that some man is going
to come along and rescue you.
You're right.
Oh, please.
OK.
Then what happened?
Well, then I saw him,
and he look so sad.
Aw. I thought he needed someone
to talk to.
But you weren't talking
when I saw you.
I was comforting him.
No. No, you can think that,
but that is an illusion.
You were using your sexuality
irresponsibly
instead of effectively
communicating.
Now, I mean, women do this.
I used to do this.
It's like you think that
if you give affection to a man,
it might turn up
meaning something about you.
That you're a worthy person
or a loving person,
but it doesn't.
You end up
sacrificing your self-respect
for the illusion of intimacy.
I never thought of it like that.
Yeah. Well, start.
And you?
I can't believe it.
I mean
what have we been through?
What are we working toward?
Are you finished?
What?
Are you finished
with your little show?
-Do you want me to go?
-Yes.
OK.
Can I have your number?
You're really inspiring.
Oh...
Um...
There. Here you go.
Aw. How cute.
CALEB: Jesus.
[door opens, closes]
Can't believe what I just saw.
Fuck, Erica, I don't know.
I just think
we make better friends.
What's that mean?
I don't know.
You don't feel that?
Are you saying
you're not attracted to me?
Erica.
Is that what you're saying?
Because if it is,
I want to hear it.
Why are you doing this?
Tell me the truth.
I don't want to hurt you.
What do you think
you're doing, Caleb?
I mean, you're it.
You're my perfect mate.
You're funny and handsome,
and talented and smart.
You make me feel good.
You get me.
Baby, we're perfect
for each other.
I don't...
I don't think so.
Why? Why?
Why? What is it that you need?
I don't know.
You do. You know
because you're not getting it,
so you know.
I need to feel special.
-What?
-I need to feel special.
I don't need
to talk everything out.
I don't need
to analyze everything
until it makes logical sense.
Some things don't make sense!
They just don't. And that's
what beautiful about them.
They exist.
My feelings exist.
Instead of making me feel stupid
for having them,
I want someone who's going
to love me because of them,
because I don't make sense.
You know people might
respect you for your perfection,
but they love you
for your flaws.
You don't love me for mine.
Because deep down, Erica,
I don't know that they're yours.
You have to listened
to so much enlightened shit,
that you've been eclipse.
There'll be moments
when it's just you,
but then you'll spout some
philosophy and you'll go away.
I don't believe it.
I don't.
No one has ever taught me
or told me anything
that I didn't already know
everyone has them, Caleb. Fuck.
We don't learn. We remember.
This is me, Caleb.
I want you with me.
And if you don't want to be
with me,
have the courage to say
you don't want to be with me.
Don't make me out
to be some fucking brainwashed
new aged moonie or something.
God damn it.
Acknowledge that I exist
as a whole, unique person.
OK. OK. You exist
as a whole, unique person.
And I do love you
and respect you--
You just don't want to fuck me.
It's not that.
Caleb, tell me the truth.
I just don't want to fuck you.
[breathing deeply]
Thank you.
Erica, we can be friends.
Yeah, sure.
If I ever stop missing the sex.
So that's it?
You're just going to go?
What do you want me to do?
I don't know.
Should I stay here
and comfort you?
I don't know. You OK?
I'm going to go.
No, answer me. Are you OK?
No, I'm not fucking OK.
I'm fucking heartbroken.
I mean, Jesus,
what do you think I am,
a machine?
You've broken my heart, Caleb.
I feel stupid, ugly,
and unloved.
And I just want
to get out of here.
I want to get out of here,
and get on with whatever it is
I need to get on with.
I don't feel like talking.
I don't feel like listening.
I feel like a piece of my world
is ending, and I just...
I'd very much appreciate it
if you could respect that
and just let me leave. Hmm?
-Erica.
-What?
What are you going to do for me?
Take me into that room,
make love to me and tell me,
it's all some misunderstanding?
It's all OK.
Make it like it was.
Are you?
No.
[sighs]
Yeah, then there's nothing
I can do for you.
You know what?
Maybe we can be friends.
But don't ask me that now,
because then I have to admit
that we don't have the other,
and I'm doing everything
in my power to resist that.
Please.
Please, Caleb,
if you love me at all,
let me walk out of here.
I feel like shit.
I want you too.
I really, really want you too.
But don't say anything,
just let me go.
♪
What are you doing?
I'm going to be leaving
for a while.
Leaving? Where are you going?
Alaska.
What?
Alaska.
The light is amazing in Alaska.
I can get some painting done,
clear my head out.
What are you going to do
for money?
I got a job
on a commercial fishing boat.
I was reading some Hemingway
the other night. It just hit me.
So...so you're just going
just like that?
Well, no.
We're still friends.
I just...
I need
to get out of here for a while,
get some new experiences,
sort some things out.
How are you doing?
You know where I could score
some heroine?
Yeah, what's going on?
I wish I drank.
This would be a perfect time
to get shitfaced.
What happened?
What happened?
Absolutely everything that could
go wrong today did, everything.
I'm through the
looking glass here.
Everything is fucked up,
Gerry fucked, and fucked out.
I bet I got you beat.
What do you mean?
I would bet you that my last
several hours have been
more soul crushingly sucky
than yours.
Impossible.
Bet?
What happened to you?
She wouldn't let
me drive her there.
So I go to this place,
with ducks on the wallpaper,
and dark wood and hunter green
corduroy couches and shit.
I mean the place
looks like a law library.
Then I figure they're trying
to make the men comfortable,
it is the man who have to wait
in these places.
And then she comes out.
And she's wearing a diaper.
She's wearing a paper diaper,
and she's delirious
on pain killers.
And she's mumbling
about a corn beef sandwich
and a cream soda or something.
She's just standing there
mumbling like an infant
in a paper diaper.
Then she turns to me,
suddenly lucid, and says,
"Did you bring the money?"
I say, "Yes."
She says you can pay the lady
at the desk on your way out.
But then it hits me.
I got nothing to leave.
I don't have a life.
There is nothing that
really means anything to me.
The one thing that could've
meant something to me,
has just joined
the Los Angeles sewer system.
You win.
You fucking win.
I fucking win.
So you're going to Alaska.
So I'm going to Alaska.
[sighs]
♪
[sighs]
I had a horrible dream.
I dreamt that you broke up
with me.
Go back to sleep.
[crying]
♪
What's going on?
Tell him.
Caleb. Hi, I have something
to tell you.
Where are you going?
-I'm moving.
-Camille.
Camille,
say it like you mean it.
-I'm moving.
-You just got here.
She needs to be
around female energy.
I need to be
around female energy.
-Really?
-Yeah, she's moving in with me.
Oh, so you're the female energy?
Ah.
It's just you and some cats
at your place.
Yeah, well, it's a start.
-Aren't they female cats?
-Good point.
Can I talk to you for a minute,
over here?
Sure.
What the fuck are you doing?
What do you mean?
She's moving in with you?
You hardly know her.
Well, that didn't stop you.
When did all this happen?
I gave her my number.
You were there.
She called me a couple of times
with a--with a personal problem.
What kind of personal problem?
Personal problem, one that I'm
sure is unique to her,
but a problem nonetheless.
What?
She didn't...
She didn't know--she don't know
how to put in a tampon.
You got to be kidding me.
Wh--what do you expect?
She's an artist.
Besides I've got the house
in Venice,
I could use a break on the rent.
I mean you know how that is.
-Erica.
-No.
It's as good a move for me
as it is for her.
I will teach her
some basic life skills.
And...I won't have to go home
to an empty house.
-It'll get easier.
-You don't know that.
No.
You don't--
you do not have to say anything.
[sighs]
-Camille.
-Yeah.
Camille, we're going.
Did you know these flowers
were edible?
No.
You've been eating my flowers?
[sighs] Oh...
Right.
♪
[vehicle approaching]
[engine turns off]
Interesting sign.
It's a little terse
but to the point.
So where are you going to live?
That's a very good question.
I almost packed this
by accident.
Rilke.
I forgot I gave this to you.
There's no inscription in it.
I thought you might want it.
It's from my grandmother.
I can't remember
her giving me this.
Well, there was this poem
in here she loved.
She--she marked it.
"Moving forward.
"The deeps part
of my life pour onward,
"As if the river shores
were opening out,
"It seems that things are more
like me now,
"That I can see farther
into paintings.
"I feel closer to
what language can't reach.
"With my senses, as with birds,
"I climb into the windy heaven
out of the oak.
"And in the ponds
broken off from the sky,
My feeling sinks as
if standing on fishes."
It's beautiful.
Why can't I remember
her giving me this?
Maybe because that's not
important.
What's important is that you
have it and what you do with it.
Do you think I could make
my living as a sculptor?
I think
that's the wrong question.
Could you live
without sculpting?
I have.
Ah, but was that living?
I guess it's never that simple.
It's a start.
I think being an artist has very
little to do with talent.
I think it's mostly
about intention.
Whether you make a living
at it or not,
that's for the future to decide.
I like that.
Good.
Now stand up and give me a hug.
I'm going to Alaska.
You take care of yourself.
The universe will do that
for me as long as I let it.
It's a wonderful time
to be alive, Caleb.
♪
Rocket girl, look out!
No, no,
that is just too hysterical.
Now bring it down, Erica.
Bring it way down.
♪
Oh, hey, rocket girl, look out.
Oh--that's too casual.
What, I'm fucking Brando?
Rocket girl!
Rocket girl, no!
Oh, my God.
♪
Rocket! Rocket! Oh, I suck!
Why do I suck all of a sudden?
People, five minutes
to picture, please!
Ahh.
God! Ugh!
Where the hell is my half gingko
half cold press
primrose rutummy tamer tea?
You people are killing me!
Does anybody have a 20
on that bitch's rag tonic?
Rocket girl!
Hey, Jiffy puff,
what are you, background, huh?
It's--it's engine
technician one, technically.
-Hey, that's cool.
-Thanks.
Holding area is over there.
Bye. Thanks. Yeah, yeah, great.
[whirring]
Yeah, see? See?
Watch her, learn.
You're the only one that knows
what the fuck she's doing.
Thanks, sweetheart.
Unh.
♪
Beautiful, baby. Find me, baby.
Find me. Find me.
Are we ready to shoot yet?
[shutter clicking]
It's a nonsmoking set.
Fuck off!
Would you just leave me alone?
God! Dolly back. Please.
Dolly back.
Damn it!
What the hell is she doing here?
I am rocket girl.
♪
[phone ringing]
Hello? Oh hi, Mom.
Mom, what's wrong?
Mom. Mom, I can't hear you.
Put the phone closer.
What happened?
What do you?
When?
Why are you?
When's the funeral?
[door knobs shakes,
knocking at door]
WOMAN: Hello!
Hello! Caleb.
Uh-huh.
[knocking continues]
Well, I don't know if I'm going
to be able to make the Mass.
Well, because I got
to finish this thing.
No,
it's a entirely different thing.
Are you OK?
Did you call Lauren?
[glass breaks]
Mom, listen,
I'm really sorry but--
Mom, I'm very sorry, but I--
I'm going to have
to call you back.
Erica is here.
Why won't you open this door?
Mom, seriously,
I--I'm going
to have to call you back.
I love you too.
Bye-bye.
Ah fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Are you OK, sweetie?
No. No.
No, I'm not fucking OK.
Use your innate sense
of observation.
-You're an artist.
-It didn't go well?
No. No. No, it didn't go well
for fuck's sake.
What do you think? Look at me.
I'm sorry.
You want to talk about it?
Oh.
Get up!
Get up!
Sit down. OK.
Now, I'm you.
That makes you, me.
I've been sitting all night
in the nice candlelight
listening to geriatric favorites
or whatever
working on whatever that is.
You have just had the worst,
most humiliating audition
of your life.
The sheer soul killing terror of
which is only compounded
by the nightmare
known as the 405 freeway.
You drive all the way out
to the valley
in, like,
sluggish rush hour hell,
could've gone
to your own house, right?
Which is only a few minutes
from the audition, but no.
Listen. I'm sorry.
You want me to get you
something?
But it's Wednesday. Yeah.
And that's one of the nights
that you've agreed to spend
at your boyfriend's house.
Your boyfriend
who says he loves you
and supports you
regardless of your intensity
which he says just makes
you all the sexier.
And then when you finally get
there, he locks you out.
-I was talking to my mother.
-Who hates me!
All right. All right.
That's game. That's game.
I'm putting you in the bath.
You need the treatment.
Oh God.
Is that the full
treatment or just a bath?
Disrobe and find out.
[sighs]
[groans]
How was your day, sweetie?
Uh, I was perfect for that part.
I am Rocket Girl.
Don't laugh.
Perfect for that thing.
You saw what I wore?
None of the other people
at that audition
went in there putting
any effort into it whatsoever.
I walk in looking
like a complete asshole.
You're enthusiastic.
That's a gift.
I can't do this anymore.
Oh, little hot house flower.
How was your day?
My grandma died.
I guess she couldn't find
her nitro pills.
You know how cluttered
her house is with all those
tea cups and spoons.
She couldn't remember
how to dial 911. So...
You OK?
Yeah. It's weird.
I wasn't that close to her.
Just when I was little
she used
to give me baths in this sink.
Do you have to go
to the funeral?
Well, I want to go.
Oh no, I know.
Just when is that happening?
I don't know.
I got to call my mom back.
I'm really sorry, Caleb.
Let me get you a towel.
Have you finished the thing yet?
[Caleb chuckles]
I got a lot
of work done on it tonight.
And I found some very lucid
gynecological resource books
that helped.
I just have some smoothing
and some texturing to do.
Oh, that is gross.
It's just sculpting
like anything else.
No, it isn't. It's tainted.
Hiring someone to actually
construct a prosthetic vagina?
I mean, that borders
on the pathological
or extreme indulgence.
Well,
what are they supposed to do?
I mean, they hired this woman
with the explicit understanding
she might have to show
some muff.
Oh. Oh, my God.
That is so demeaning.
What do you want me to call it?
Oh, I don't know let's see,
twat, fur biscuit,
soft shell taco?
Her private region.
Really muff,
that is so unlike you.
You sound like a beer soaked
frat boy idiot.
She agreed to do the nudity.
OK, that's not nudity, Caleb.
That is male-repressed
aggressive bullshit preying
on the sexual insecurities
of some actress,
like it's some tremendous
catharsis
to spread your legs
for a camera.
It's a job.
There are other kinds
of acting jobs, Caleb.
No, for me it's a job.
-It's demeaning for both of you.
-You haven't even seen it.
Well, yeah.
I know what one looks like.
No, but I've made this
from nothing.
Honey, I think one would be
equally correct
in stating you copied it
from nature.
What? Why?
Don't get insulted.
Why not get insulted
when you insult me?
I didn't mean anything.
You totally belittled what I do.
You are capable of much more
interesting work than this.
That's not the point.
This is what I'm doing
right now.
This is what's been taking
weeks of work and research,
of a building up
and tearing down,
trying to reveal some subtlety.
This is my work right now.
OK, but you're missing
the whole point.
The very nature of this project
is beyond any kind of subtlety.
It is a woman's vagina
for Christ's sake.
That is blatant non-imaginative
exploitation.
But my contribution
is different.
No, Caleb.
You're different.
You're an artist
but your contribution
in this instance is
to facilitate this whole
degenerative process.
That is really unfair.
You haven't even seen it.
Put it up here.
-Can I touch it?
-No, the clay's still soft.
Haven't made a mold of it yet.
OK.
Interesting.
You hate it.
It's that all the hair
it's going to have?
I don't know.
It's not my department.
Because right now,
all bald like that
it looks like a little girl's
which is sick enough
but on a grown woman, oh really.
Man! Hollywood never ceases
to amaze me.
Caleb.
Caleb, I think you're brilliant.
I might not think
that everything you do is.
You know what?
That sounds just like something
my mother would say.
-Wow.
-Yeah.
Get into bed.
OK. Come on.
I love you, sweetie.
I love what you do.
It's OK. Forget it.
Come here. Come here.
[sighs]
Oh God,
I had such a shitty day.
I look forward to this clinch
all day long. I missed you.
I missed how you smell
and how you hold me.
I want your hands on me.
Just put your hands on me.
Oh God.
I just need to breathe.
OK wait. Wait honey, honey,
honey.
Slow. Just go slower, OK?
OK let me feel
your hands and I'll....
Kiss me.
[grunts]
OK.
Oh, God damn it.
Ugh.
You're going too fast OK?
I can't come like that.
Not after the day that I had.
And you know the day I had,
Jesus.
I'm sorry.
I just need some tenderness,
some slow thick hands.
I know. I know.
OK.
Slowly.
Here.
You know, like you enjoy it.
What the fuck does that mean?
Oh, Christ,
don't make that mean anything.
What--what does that mean?
You don't think I enjoy it?
No. I just, I think
that you're only thinking
about you getting off.
You know,
I mean you're wrestling around
on top of me
like I'm not even here.
Well, what do you want me to do?
Ugh. I had a hard day, Caleb.
I need to come hard.
I need the release.
Let me go down on you.
No. Oh no! Not like that.
That is not spontaneous.
It's not loving.
You have to want to.
I...I want to.
OK.
Slow.
Ow, ow, ow. Shit.
God, did you shave?
It's like you're rubbing
me with sandpaper.
Bullshit, Erica.
Why? What?
Why are you so angry?
This is bullshit, Erica.
I can't have sex like this.
This isn't even sex.
This is like Nazi aerobics.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Oh, my God.
You're making this mean
something.
This does mean something.
I'm telling you my needs.
What I need. Is that so awful?
No, your needs are fine.
But this is
two-party masturbation.
Sex is supposed to happen
between two people.
Like a team, you know,
I do a little something,
you do a little something,
like a dance.
I had the fucked day
and all I wanted was just
a little tenderness
and some slow hands.
All you can do is lock me out of
your house and then yell at me.
This is--this is so fucked.
So now you're leaving?
We're having a confrontation
about our needs,
and you're leaving.
We're not having
a confrontation.
We're having an argument.
This is an argument, Erica,
and I'm sick of this bullshit!
I got an early morning
with Jason.
We got to go over the RTV
we're going to use.
I got to get final approval
on the piece.
I got all these things
I got to do
and all you can think
about is your day.
What happened in your day?
Well, Caleb, if you have
some unresolved issues
about your day,
we can discuss them.
You don't have
to get all dramatic.
Everything is unresolved!
Look at me for Christ's sake.
I got a mortgage due
on this place every month
I can barely afford.
I got a guest house I have
to rent that is so fucking small
people are afraid
to even look inside of it.
You come over
like some guilt-slinging tornado
screaming "me, me, me!"
You know my grandmother who used
to give me baths in this sink,
she died today and I make
fake fucking twats for a living!
What?
No, that is not funny.
-[Erica laughs]
-That is tragically unfunny.
I'm serious. I'm in hell,
and you only made it worse.
I'm sorry, sweetie.
Come here.
No. You're selfish.
I am. We all are. I'm sorry.
Now come here.
You really suck.
I do. I'm horrible,
unapproachable.
Now get into bed.
Put your head down on me.
Right.
I'm wicked and hateful
and indulgent.
Now go to sleep.
Fuck.
Some kind
of music was playing, faintly.
Some gothic folk something
just sort of warming
the background.
Candles were everywhere
like some kind
of artificial daylight
and we were completely entwined,
meshed like...
mmm, like one skin.
And she tilted her head back
and she had this amazing throat,
long like a Modigliani
and these sounds
start to escape from her
and it takes me a moment.
It took me a moment,
but I realized
she was saying something.
So I moved into her
and she was calling the angels.
She was summoning the thousands
of tiny unborn souls
that were circling us
at that moment,
whispering to be incarnated.
And I realized
this woman understands.
This woman knows that the child
has to be set free.
She holds the key
to our heart's existence.
And we're moving
like one animal now.
Strong and vascular
like deep chords of music.
And I just...lost it.
You came inside her?
Tell me you didn't come
inside her.
Not really.
Not really.
You pulled out?
At the last minute
I had a flash of clarity
and I thought,
"What the fuck am I doing?"
So I edged out a bit.
You edged out?
What does that mean?
I got out as soon as I realized
what I was doing.
You edged out? Did you pull out?
Did you pull it out in time?
I think I did, yes.
Why don't you
just wear a condom?
We've had this conversation.
What if you got
this woman pregnant?
I'd raise the child.
It would be mine. I don't have
a problem with that.
-How long have you known her?
-What difference does that make?
-How long?
-Tuesday.
-Last Tuesday?
-This Tuesday.
Two days?
That's two days,
and you're not wearing a condom.
What difference does it make?
There was a connection.
That only takes a second.
Besides, I want to be a father.
You are insane.
How are you going to be a father
when you're dead?
No one is dying.
They have a cocktail now.
I find out I have AIDS.
I get a few shots.
It's not even remotely
that simple.
How long have you known Erica?
Almost two years.
Do you ever talk about children?
I know you want
to have children.
It takes a long time
to get to know someone.
You had another fight
didn't you?
No.
Yes. No. I don't know.
I don't even know
if it's fighting anymore.
It's just become
the way we relate.
Well, that can't be good.
No.
I finished the mold.
So you think you two
will stay together?
Did you spray
that with clear coat?
-Shit, I forgot.
-Get me some thinner, 2%.
Yeah.
Oh, man! I'm really sorry.
I wasn't thinking.
That's all right.
I'm just a little rushed.
Verk wants to see a cast
of this thing by lunch tomorrow.
-That soon?
-Well, yeah it's a business.
This is an $8,000 rubber cooch
for Christ's sake.
-You look tired, Caleb.
-I am.
Spray the fucker.
♪
[phone ringing]
[machine clicks]
CALEB: Hi, this is Caleb.
You've reached
Morpheus Special Effects.
I'm not here right now,
so leave a message.
[beep]
WOMAN [on machine]:
Hello, Caleb. This is Camille.
Yeah.
I read about your guest house
in the paper.
I'm very intrigued.
Caleb, that's a beautiful name.
It's from the Bible, isn't it?
Caleb.
I'd love to know more about you,
Caleb, when you get a chance.
-[beep]
-I'm a sculptor.
Well, an effects technician,
really.
Hello? Hello?
You want to see the guest house?
Wait. You want to rent it?
Look, I should tell you.
It's--it's very--
No, trust me, please,
it's very small.
It's in the valley.
Yeah. I, uh, I could give you
the address.
Mm-hmm. Could I just ask you
what it is you do?
No, for a living.
You--you're a sculptor?
Sorry?
A sculptress.
[click]
MAN: And she said she'd take it
just like that?
That's what she said.
Did you tell her
how small it is?
Never got the chance.
What is she going to do,
live there by herself?
She's a sculptor.
She sells her pieces out
of her dad's gallery near Davis.
She just needs
room for herself and the clay.
[sighs]
Man, you are so lucky.
What do you mean?
Don't you realize who this is?
-Jason.
-Caleb.
This is your angel, man.
This is the one.
No questions.
Total commitment to the space.
A sculptor.
What more do you want?
-What's her name?
-I don't even want to tell you.
Why not?
Promise me
you won't make it mean anything.
Camille.
Oh, my God!
Fuck. I got to go.
What time is it?
It's 20 to 12:00.
I got to go. I got to meet
Richard Verk in half an hour.
How did the thing turn out?
Well, we'll see.
Caleb...
this is a magnificent time
to be alive.
Caleb, Janice.
We spoke on the phone.
Please, sit down.
This is Richard Verk.
Do you need an iced tea?
Do I need one?
Another iced tea, por favor.
That's so rude.
What's rude?
I assume he speak Spanish.
-You should never assume.
-Children, children.
Let's not squabble
over such non-issues.
There, you see
the beverages arrived?
Now, everybody may
refresh themselves.
[police siren passes by]
Well, let's get down
to business.
Have you brought it with you?
-I'm sorry, what?
-The thing, the prize,
the great compromise
that's kept me up all hours,
nearly ruining
my artistic vision.
Do you have it?
Oh, the thing.
Yes, yes, I have it.
I have it right here.
Well, may I see it?
Here?
I have to avenge with it.
Now? Right--right now?
Is there a problem, Caleb?
Did they bring this sweetener
for your tea?
Oh, I don't--
I don't need anything.
No, there's no problem.
I just thought Mr. Verk would--
Please. Call him Richard.
Call me Richard.
Richard,
would like to see it in a more--
or rather less--public arena.
Arena?
You used the word arena.
That's very interesting.
An arena, as in a circus.
That's apropos really.
This is like a circus.
A laughless circus.
If this is indeed an arena,
this place a stage
for spectacle and daring.
Show us your act, Caleb.
Join us.
Will you join our circus, Caleb?
Oh, my God.
Yes.
Let me look at it.
Oh, that is disgusting.
Oh no it's not.
Quite the contrary.
It's a compliment really.
He rendered it so lifelike.
I just assumed it must emit
some odor, however faint.
Do you want have a look
at it, Henry?
No thank you, Richard.
I don't have much experience
with those.
Hmm. Really it's lovely.
-It's so light.
-It's high-density silicone.
It's a little warm
to wear but strong.
That's something, isn't it?
I guess.
Good Lord.
It really is lovely.
It's remarkable.
Maybe I should do
a "comedia del'arte" piece.
I could have all the actors
wear this sex on their faces.
HENRY:
It's time to be getting back--
I've got a meeting with Anna.
RICHARD:
You know I really am impressed.
A little too impressed,
actually.
It's lovely,
but it's another movie entirely.
Seeing it now,
I realized that I really need
something a bit more O'Keefe.
Georgia O'Keefe?
Exactly.
You're so bright.
You've seen them, those lovely,
strong water colors.
Orchids and lilies,
like great breathing vaginas.
Uh, yeah.
Yeah, that's more what we need.
This is a bit too...
on the nose.
Are you with me?
Uh...well, actually, heh.
I was under the impression that
this piece was going to work
in about 1/8 of a second
of film,
just when she uncrosses
her legs.
How did you know that?
It was in the job order.
I read the script.
-Where did you get a script?
-You read the script?
I want the option, Caleb,
to discover, if necessary.
OK. I'm sorry.
-No, no, it's all right.
-It can be fixed.
It's going to have to be fitted.
Yes, yes.
Have you met Anna McCaphrey?
-No.
-You have Friday free?
Friday it is.
I'm sorry I don't think
I can make Friday.
Is there some sort of problem?
I have a...
well, I have a thing on Friday.
What sort of thing?
Can't we do it any other day?
No.
This is important, Caleb.
This is the show.
What do you have?
If you don't mind my query.
Oh, well...
my--my grandmother just died.
She died a few days ago,
and well,
the funeral is this Friday.
You were very close?
-Not really.
-Then it's settled.
I'll talk to Anna's assistant.
She'll get in touch with you.
But I told my mother--
Caleb, it's really very simple.
This business is
about sacrifice.
Let me tell you a little story.
My mother
missed my high school graduation
because she had to be backstage
for opening night
for one of her clients.
Now, at the time,
I was heartbroken.
But that actress went on
to win the Tony Award
for the best performance.
I always felt a little
responsible for that.
When I got married
she had a similar conflict.
But that actor won
the People's Choice Award
and a Golden Globe.
Two weeks later, I got a gift
basket with some bath salts,
and a typed note that says,
"Sure you'll be happy.
Hope it lasts. Mom."
But four years ago
when she died,
I was on the set
of Richard Verk's
breakthrough film,
The Right to Remain Silent.
I couldn't make the funeral
but that film did
over a $130 domestic
and three times that foreign.
Sacrifice is what has made
all of these tremendous things
possible.
Now trust me.
I know it's harsh.
But this is your moment
to shine.
It may not come again,
either you want it or you don't.
Do you have my number?
Of course.
Caleb.
This could lead to other things.
Sure.
Hi.
I didn't hear you.
Well, that's because you were
listening to the clay.
I thought you might be hungry.
Christ, that's quite a feast.
Yes, well,
and I delivered it myself.
I assume if you're following
the usual pattern
you haven't eaten yet.
You assumed correct, my lady.
Well, so stop your trifling
over there.
Come join me
in this most exquisite repast.
Where do you want to eat?
Well, over here on the table
of course.
Where you create,
we shall nourish ourselves.
What's this for?
Same thing.
Oh, are they doing
Little Shop of Horrorsnow?
I had a meeting with Verk.
He said he wanted some changes.
-I guess he wanted the option.
-Option to what?
Break into songs
about fertilizer?
Actually, it had something to do
with artistic vision,
whatever that means.
Hey, didn't you have
a callback today?
Now why would you want
to go ruin
this lovely old evening
with talk like that?
Was it that bad?
Picture this.
I walk into a room
with every faux-chested,
collagen-lipped actress
in Hollywood.
Some of them even have these
little futuristic outfits on,
so I'm feeling really lame
in this dress.
I sit down,
start going over the sides.
The casting assistant,
she squeaks out
of her little office
and she hands me
another set of slides.
Well, now I'm feeling
pretty good, right?
No outfit,
but I put an extra set of slides
which is more than these
silicone losers have.
Then I looked down and I see it.
"Engine technician one."
OK, scroll to cross the page.
Well, time folded right then
and there and I saw myself,
40 years old with bad caps doing
dinner theater in Michigan.
I thought this is it, I'm out.
This is not what
six years living in New York
fighting winters
and roaches and assholes
with too much hair gel
was all about.
You have two years
with the best acting teacher
in the country, Caleb.
Working for tips
on Christmas eve,
auditioning for any part
that like might have a line,
wear that fucking
chicken costume in front
of Madison Square Garden.
Oh, my God.
Why am I going there?
Anyway, I had an epiphany.
I'm quitting.
Yeah I'm going to be doing
photography full-time.
I already lined up a couple
of suckers for headshots.
So, that's it.
I'm happy.
Wow. That's a lot of change
for one day.
Yeah, well, not really.
I mean,
it's been coming in a long time.
I'm just--I'm sick of doing
what doesn't make me happy
in the hope that someday
it might.
That's amazing.
And I'm really proud of you.
-To the unknown.
-To the unknown.
I missed you.
I really missed you.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for all my shit.
You know, it's like
I get so scared.
I get so scared.
I get so wrapped up.
And I could get--
I know, it's OK.
I want you to know
how much I treasure you, Caleb.
I'd get you.
God, I'm so glad you were born.
[metal clanging]
What are you doing?
What are you doing?
Well, I'm trying to--
this table is very uneven.
OK.
Well, hold on, hold on, hold on.
Let me rotate down a little.
-Ouch
-Aw.
-Shit.
-What?
My knees are, like, digging
into this table.
OK. All right, hey, turn over.
No, this is fine.
Oh, it's not fine.
Look at your face.
You look like you're
doing your income tax.
-Well, I'm in pain.
-OK, then stop.
But you wanted to.
Don't make this about me, OK.
You were right there with me.
Oh, let's forget it.
Oh, my God.
Did you lose your erection?
Jesus!
Well, did you? It's not
like anybody's here to hear us.
Well, obviously for not fucking,
I've lost my erection.
-All right, God, calm down.
-Let's just forget it.
It's all right.
God, it's all right.
I can masturbate.
No.
Why not? I'm horny.
What are you like some kind
of spy missile?
You get a program in
and you have to carry it out
no matter what?
Hey that's just mean, all right?
I didn't throw you losing
your erection in your face.
-Yes, you did.
-Well, I just mentioned it.
Can't you just not do
that right now?
Can't we just be together?
I don't see
what the big deal is.
I feel like an ornament
or something.
I mean you go off
and please yourself
while I'm over here staring
at the fucking ceiling.
OK. OK. OK, honey. Come here.
You can do it for me.
I'm sorry, I'm just--
I'm just not in the mood.
So that
means I shouldn't be either?
No. That means that out of
consideration for me,
for what I'm feeling,
you'll just not do that.
I'm sorry. I really,
I thought our relationship was
like a whole different kind
of relationship.
-Well, what does that mean?
-Well, I just thought
that we could be ourselves
around one another,
you know, and not hide
behind any bullshit premises.
Hey, I don't think what
I'm feeling is bullshit, Erica.
I'm asking you not to masturbate
in front of me.
Is that so difficult
to understand?
OK and I am asking you
for the freedom and support
that I thought
this relationship was built on.
Look, if you want to play
with yourself so bad,
then play with yourself!
Oh, my God.
Why does this always happen?
Why? It's like we disagree.
And instead of it just being
what it is
it becomes this whole thing,
-you know, full of meaning.
-These are my feelings, Erica.
Yes,
they're your feelings, Caleb.
Well, I have feelings too.
God, why are your feelings
more important than mine?
That's not what I'm saying,
all right?
Making love takes two people.
Two people have to be involved.
Who says?
It's just sex, OK?
I mean that's it.
People can make it mean
whatever they want.
They can fuck.
They can make love.
One person can masturbate
the other can watch.
Whatever, you know.
I mean, it all comes
down to what you make it mean.
I don't know.
I don't believe that.
I think it does mean something
when another person is present,
it means something.
Oh? That's very interesting
coming from a guy
who carts a rubber vagina
around town for a living.
-Fuck you.
-Why?
That has nothing to do
with anything.
Why not? I mean the act is
so sacred to you
I thought the parts that
went along with it would be too.
I don't even know what
we're talking about anymore.
OK. You know what then?
Come here.
Let's not talk about it.
-Are you mad?
-Uh-uh.
I just think
we have some issues.
Well, if it's me, I'm sorry.
If it's you?
Is that, I'm sorry,
is that you trying to take
responsibility or something?
God, I'm so sick of this shit.
Look, I'm sorry I just have
a lot on my mind.
I got an early meeting with
Anna McCaphrey in the morning.
You're meeting Anna McCaphrey?
Well, yeah, I got to fit her
with the prosthesis.
Why do you have to meet her?
Well, I guess
I could reach my measuring tape
around her body
and never introduce myself
but it's not the best way
to have a client relationship.
Oh so now she's a client?
Well, yeah she's wearing
the thing.
I am sorry. I thought you're
in a meeting with Verk.
I thought you were working
with Verk.
Hey, don't make
this mean anything, Erica.
Are you going to her house?
I don't know, whatever is
convenient for her, I guess.
Do you want to go to her house?
I don't care.
I just want to do the job,
get it over with, get paid.
Aren't you curious?
-About what?
-How she must live a rich,
gorgeous, terrible actress
like her.
Whew! She must have
a horror show for a house.
I don't think
she's a bad actress.
Oh puhlease, did you see her
in The Right to Remain Silent?
Did you for one second, buy her
as a cop with all the hair?
"Hey freeze, assholes.
You have the right
to remain silent."
The way she would like leave
her gun here,
I mean she's
like a mud-wrestling fantasy.
She had some moments
in that other thing she did.
Oh yeah right,
the waitress thing.
Come please!
The woman's not waited a table
in her life.
-You don't know that.
-She's limited at best.
You're not the same type
so you shouldn't worry about it.
What the fuck
is that supposed to mean?
You're nothing like each other,
that's all.
Why? Because I won't flash
my twat and flip my hair
a thousand times
for a camera crew?
Look,
what difference does it make?
You quit.
That's right.
I quit.
I'm entitled to my opinion.
[vehicle approaches]
-[thunder]
-Shit.
Hello.
Sorry.
I waited.
Right. Oh you're--
you're Camille, right?
Yeah.
OK. You want to come inside?
You really don't have
to show me the place.
I know what I want it.
I have all my stuff.
Yeah, you brought everything?
Yeah.
You're serious?
You haven't even seen it.
I have money.
Well, that's good but I'd like
to know something about you.
I knew everything
about you from your voice.
Oh.
Where did you live last?
At home.
Did you make these sculptures?
Yeah.
Did you pay rent there?
They're just
how I imagined them.
You work from your dreams too.
Yes, sometimes.
All the time.
Have--have you lived
any place else?
No.
No other place seemed right.
Do you want to help me unpack
my things? I don't have much.
I don't know.
I got to think about this.
-Why?
-Well, you know, we just--
Does somebody else want
to live there?
Oh no, no.
I can't even get people
to look inside of it.
I have money.
It's, um...
first and last and security.
Right.
Well...show you the place.
It's perfect.
It's just how I imagined it.
Oh, glad you like it.
-One room.
-Sorry?
One room.
It's like the center of a body.
It's like a perfect seashell.
Great bloodless heart.
[exhales]
Sit down.
OK.
Do you remember
when you were little?
You could look on something
for hours and hours
and see all different shapes
inside the one thing.
Yeah.
You could look
at a candle flame or a rose bud
and see world
after world inside it.
And the deeper you looked
the less you felt like yourself.
You felt like the flame
or the flower.
It's so simple.
What's it like now?
It's different.
It's harder.
Listen, I'm going to go.
But if you need anything
I'm just in that front house,
OK?
OK.
OK.
[door creaks closes]
I need something.
You do?
I need you
to keep talking to me.
-Keep telling me things.
-We don't even know each other.
Not yet,
but it's becoming clear.
How did you know
that I work from my dreams?
Same way anyone would,
by looking at your work.
A lot of people
have seen my work.
Heh. Yeah. But how many
have actually looked at it?
I don't know.
Maybe you're the first.
When a sculpture of mine
wants to be born,
I get a visit
from the moth fairy.
Moth fairy?
She only comes to me
late at night
and only on certain nights.
When my heart is in love with my
mind and my mind becomes full.
Then she lights on my pillow
and she tells me in her little
winged voice what it's to be.
The hardest part is remembering.
Remembering the feeling
when you first find out
what you're about to make.
Once you have that,
the rest just follows.
[thunder]
It's all there really is.
I think we were born
with everything
and then the world starts
to fill us up, and we forget.
You actually make your living
selling your artwork.
You're funny.
Heh.
That makes it more real to you,
doesn't it?
If people would part
with their money
to possess
what they already have
but have forgotten they have,
yeah, people buy it.
I'm on a two-year backorder.
Really?
Yeah.
You can work magic, Caleb.
That hasn't been my experience.
First you have to believe it.
[thunder]
What are you smiling about?
You're fucking radiant.
-Oh, my God.
-What? What happened?
You'll never believe
what I did last night.
Do I know her?
Oh, my God!
This is so not like me.
-Bullshit, what happened?
-Camille.
And she moves in just like that.
Really?
She starts talking to me, right,
talking to me like she knows me
and understands me.
She sells her sculptures.
She has this moth fairy thing.
She makes magic happen...
And you fucked her, right?
No, but we kiss,
and it was incredible.
I didn't know
what I was doing or why.
We just meshed together.
This sounds more like you.
Have you told Erica yet?
Fuck, no. I have to do that.
Why?
Because we have
a relationship based on trust.
Caleb, you spent last night dry
humping the moth fairly lady,
I think any trust
you might have had is broken.
Fuck, fuck you're right.
I'll tell her later.
What time is it?
It's almost 10:00.
Where are you rushing off
to now?
I got a call from
Anna McCaphrey's assistant
this morning.
She says I got to be at
her house by 2:30.
-Is this normal?
-I don't know. You want to go?
Fuck no.
This is why you're the boss.
-I could make you.
-You're right. You could.
But you're not that kind
of boss.
Just go. You'll walk in there,
she'll be completely charmed
by you.
Either of that,
or you'll piss her off,
and you'll never work
in this town again.
What difference does it make?
It will be
an interesting experience.
♪
Hello.
[birds chirping]
Hello.
Perfect.
♪
Hey, you can't park
the car here, pal.
I'm only going to be a second.
Sorry, you can't park
the car here.
Please, I just have
this little thing I have to do,
and then I'll be out of here.
I just need to find
Anna McCaphrey.
I wish I could help you.
You can't park the car here.
-I'll pay you.
-Oh, great.
I will pay you $20
if you let me park my car here
for five minutes.
Shit, OK $5, but it's still
a dollar a minute.
Look, pal,
I wish I could help you out,
but I could really lose my job.
You can't park your car here.
-Janice, Janice.
-Where the hell have you been?
Two hours late.
I was told to meet
at Anna McCaphrey's house.
You cannot park your car here.
Give me your keys.
-What?
-Keys.
Park it in the crew lot.
Bitch.
This is really unprofessional
behavior, Caleb.
Verk is having
a fucking coronary.
I was told to meet at her house.
Did you check your service?
-Yes.
-Recently?
I don't know. I checked
before I left my house.
You got to be more
on top of things, Caleb.
Things change at light speed
in this business.
-You should know that.
-I'm sorry.
Richard is going
to go ballistic.
He's probably going to make me
listen to that damn story
about his cockney childhood
again.
You know, he had me
so tense at our live show,
I stopped having my period.
What am I saying?
Why am I telling you this?
I don't know. It's OK.
My mother had a similar problem.
Your mother?
Really?
Now I'm like your mother?
Oh, terrific.
-No, I didn't mean it like--
-I know. I know. I know.
Look, I'm not usually like this.
I'm a very compassionate person.
I want you to know
that no matter what happens,
I think that you're more likely
than not
a very pleasant young man.
I'm not really sure what it is
that you do or how you do it.
But I'm sure that you're
very good at whatever it is
that you do
and you'll be
however good you can be.
OK?
OK, showtime.
Come on, come on.
I see the messenger
is finally here.
I'm really sorry.
Don't grovel.
Did you at least bring it
with you?
Oh! That is fabulous.
My goodness, well done.
All right then, my boy.
Bring her in!
VERK: Bring her in.
Vera.
Vera!
Put Vera back on,
you little bastard.
Vera sweetie, what did we talk
about the last time
I came in for a facial?
No, I will remind you.
Organic cucumbers.
Yes, it's important,
because the store-bought ones
are yucky and burn me.
Well, I am telling you
they've burned me.
You put those little pieces
of store-bought cucumbers
in my eyes again,
I will have immigration
on your ass so fast you won't
have time for a fucking Belini!
Damn it.
What the fuck is going on?
I still have 1/2 an hour
in make up.
All right, just shut up.
Don't be a tart.
I have a surprise for you.
I've spent many
a sleepless night
pondering your adamant refusal
to do the pussy shot.
Frankly, I believe
that every young starlet
should have at least one
tastefully lit pussy shot.
But that's just me.
Richie. Richie, we have
talked about this.
Either get me a body double,
or make a piece.
I guess I have taken
your suggestions too heart.
We may now dispel the rumor that
I don't listen to my actors.
By way of reconciliation
and in the dire hope of getting
this film back on schedule
and near budget,
I offer you this, a compromise.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Richie.
Strap it on. Strap it on.
Strap it on.
Look at me, look at me,
look at me, look at me.
Whoa. Am I sexy?
You look like a rhododendron.
Either that or you have
the worst yeast infection
in history.
Oh God, Richie,
you're fucking nuts.
Yes, I always will be.
-I love you.
-By the way,
that is the most expensive
flower I've ever bought a woman.
Muah!
-ANNA: Look at me! Look at me!
-Back to work.
ANNA: Freeze, asshole, you have
the right to remain silent.
MAN: All right everybody
back to number one.
This is for you.
They never were going to use it,
were they?
You've been good sport.
You know,
you have no idea how hard
I worked on that.
Oh, yes, I do.
[door closes]
[thunder]
Jesus!
Sorry, I didn't mean
to scare you.
It's all right.
What are you doing?
Do you think I can get an
advance on next week's salary?
Sure, what for?
I just had some expenses
this month I didn't anticipate.
How much do you think
you'll need?
However much you can spare.
How much?
I don't know. 300?
Sure.
You need it right now?
What's wrong?
It's nothing.
I just--I got this--
this thing I got to do.
What thing?
You want to tell me about it?
Will you just listen to me,
no lectures or anything?
What did you do?
Will you just be my friend
and listen to me?
Yeah.
[sighs]
That girl I was telling
you about...
she's late.
She's late, and she's just
going ahead like I don't
even fucking exist.
She calls me last week,
says she has some news.
And I knew--I knew what it was.
So we meet at this Thai place
near at her house.
She says she's late.
So we finish our seafood soup.
And we go to the mini mart.
We buy a pregnancy test
and some gum, I think,
and we go to her place.
Now her roommate's
in the shower,
so we have to wait to get
into the bathroom.
So she sits down,
and she pees on the stick,
and her roommates blasting
some speed metal or some shit.
And I see
this little blue cross appear.
And something just goes off,
inside me.
And I hand her the stick.
And she starts crying,
but all I can think about
is this--
is this--this life--
this life that's begun,
this little life that's with us
in a Los Angeles bathroom
with the music blasting
and the mother crying,
and the father wishing.
And I realize it's doomed.
I look at her,
and I don't see a mother.
I see a girl.
And I look inside myself,
and I know I'm not ready either.
And I don't know what to do,
because I...
I want that little weight
on my shoulders, you know,
and I want those--those
little eyes that close
with a kiss goodnight.
And I want that little person,
you know,
and I can't have it.
And that makes
the wanting worse.
[sighs]
You want me to drive you
down there or anything?
No, no, I just...
I just wanted you to listen.
And you did that...very well.
[phone ringing inside]
[on machine]
Hi, this is Caleb.
I'm not home right now.
But if you leave a message,
I'll call you back.
Thanks. Bye.
[beep]
WOMAN: Caleb?
Honey, are you there?
Well, I guess
you're probably still at work.
I just wanted you to know that
the funeral was beautiful
and everyone asked about you.
Honey, I wanted to tell you
that I really understand
why you couldn't come today.
I know how important
your work is,
and I'm so proud of you.
I love you. I guess that's--
[beep]
Hi.
Wow. You look sad.
I just need you to show me
how my key works again.
You just stick it in the lock
and turn it.
I know.
I keep getting it wrong.
Are you OK?
Not really.
Maybe you could talk to me.
Let's go open your door.
Well, you could talk
to me though.
I don't know what to say.
Don't say anything.
[vehicle approaches]
[sighs]
[sniffles]
The tears of an artist
are very precious.
They're supposed
to bring vivid dreams.
♪
[knocking at door]
I'll get it.
[sniffles]
Yeah, hi.
Oh, fuck.
-Hi.
-Hi.
Aren't you going
to say anything?
-I should go.
-No. Oh, no. Stay.
Erica.
This involves her.
You were--you were the one
tongue diving my boyfriend
just now, right?
Yeah.
Yeah, that's what I thought.
So you can stay.
This is bullshit.
[exhales]
Why do we all sit down.
Camille, isn't it? Yeah? Sit.
You're so calm. I'd be a mess.
Well, sweetie, that's the
difference between you and me.
Sit down.
Erica, we should do this,
just you and me.
Let me ask you something.
Are you aware
of the responsibility
that you have just taken on?
What do you mean?
Well, you've just decided
to become significant
in the life of my boyfriend.
Did you--
did you intend to do that?
I don't know.
Do you know
that you have a choice?
That you can use your sexuality
responsibility,
and then not to get attention?
-No.
-Erica.
No she needs to know this.
OK.
Tell me what happened
before I got here.
I came in to get him to let me
into my house.
You don't have a key?
No, I have a key.
I just couldn't figure out
how to get it to work.
You can't work a key.
No, I can. But--
OK, OK, OK. You come over here,
the little victim,
soliciting help from him,
right?
No, I just needed to get
into my house.
[sighs] Don't you see
how you sold yourself out?
You are perfectly capable
of opening any door
you have the key to.
You have to be effective
in your thinking and stop hoping
that some man is going
to come along and rescue you.
You're right.
Oh, please.
OK.
Then what happened?
Well, then I saw him,
and he look so sad.
Aw. I thought he needed someone
to talk to.
But you weren't talking
when I saw you.
I was comforting him.
No. No, you can think that,
but that is an illusion.
You were using your sexuality
irresponsibly
instead of effectively
communicating.
Now, I mean, women do this.
I used to do this.
It's like you think that
if you give affection to a man,
it might turn up
meaning something about you.
That you're a worthy person
or a loving person,
but it doesn't.
You end up
sacrificing your self-respect
for the illusion of intimacy.
I never thought of it like that.
Yeah. Well, start.
And you?
I can't believe it.
I mean
what have we been through?
What are we working toward?
Are you finished?
What?
Are you finished
with your little show?
-Do you want me to go?
-Yes.
OK.
Can I have your number?
You're really inspiring.
Oh...
Um...
There. Here you go.
Aw. How cute.
CALEB: Jesus.
[door opens, closes]
Can't believe what I just saw.
Fuck, Erica, I don't know.
I just think
we make better friends.
What's that mean?
I don't know.
You don't feel that?
Are you saying
you're not attracted to me?
Erica.
Is that what you're saying?
Because if it is,
I want to hear it.
Why are you doing this?
Tell me the truth.
I don't want to hurt you.
What do you think
you're doing, Caleb?
I mean, you're it.
You're my perfect mate.
You're funny and handsome,
and talented and smart.
You make me feel good.
You get me.
Baby, we're perfect
for each other.
I don't...
I don't think so.
Why? Why?
Why? What is it that you need?
I don't know.
You do. You know
because you're not getting it,
so you know.
I need to feel special.
-What?
-I need to feel special.
I don't need
to talk everything out.
I don't need
to analyze everything
until it makes logical sense.
Some things don't make sense!
They just don't. And that's
what beautiful about them.
They exist.
My feelings exist.
Instead of making me feel stupid
for having them,
I want someone who's going
to love me because of them,
because I don't make sense.
You know people might
respect you for your perfection,
but they love you
for your flaws.
You don't love me for mine.
Because deep down, Erica,
I don't know that they're yours.
You have to listened
to so much enlightened shit,
that you've been eclipse.
There'll be moments
when it's just you,
but then you'll spout some
philosophy and you'll go away.
I don't believe it.
I don't.
No one has ever taught me
or told me anything
that I didn't already know
everyone has them, Caleb. Fuck.
We don't learn. We remember.
This is me, Caleb.
I want you with me.
And if you don't want to be
with me,
have the courage to say
you don't want to be with me.
Don't make me out
to be some fucking brainwashed
new aged moonie or something.
God damn it.
Acknowledge that I exist
as a whole, unique person.
OK. OK. You exist
as a whole, unique person.
And I do love you
and respect you--
You just don't want to fuck me.
It's not that.
Caleb, tell me the truth.
I just don't want to fuck you.
[breathing deeply]
Thank you.
Erica, we can be friends.
Yeah, sure.
If I ever stop missing the sex.
So that's it?
You're just going to go?
What do you want me to do?
I don't know.
Should I stay here
and comfort you?
I don't know. You OK?
I'm going to go.
No, answer me. Are you OK?
No, I'm not fucking OK.
I'm fucking heartbroken.
I mean, Jesus,
what do you think I am,
a machine?
You've broken my heart, Caleb.
I feel stupid, ugly,
and unloved.
And I just want
to get out of here.
I want to get out of here,
and get on with whatever it is
I need to get on with.
I don't feel like talking.
I don't feel like listening.
I feel like a piece of my world
is ending, and I just...
I'd very much appreciate it
if you could respect that
and just let me leave. Hmm?
-Erica.
-What?
What are you going to do for me?
Take me into that room,
make love to me and tell me,
it's all some misunderstanding?
It's all OK.
Make it like it was.
Are you?
No.
[sighs]
Yeah, then there's nothing
I can do for you.
You know what?
Maybe we can be friends.
But don't ask me that now,
because then I have to admit
that we don't have the other,
and I'm doing everything
in my power to resist that.
Please.
Please, Caleb,
if you love me at all,
let me walk out of here.
I feel like shit.
I want you too.
I really, really want you too.
But don't say anything,
just let me go.
♪
What are you doing?
I'm going to be leaving
for a while.
Leaving? Where are you going?
Alaska.
What?
Alaska.
The light is amazing in Alaska.
I can get some painting done,
clear my head out.
What are you going to do
for money?
I got a job
on a commercial fishing boat.
I was reading some Hemingway
the other night. It just hit me.
So...so you're just going
just like that?
Well, no.
We're still friends.
I just...
I need
to get out of here for a while,
get some new experiences,
sort some things out.
How are you doing?
You know where I could score
some heroine?
Yeah, what's going on?
I wish I drank.
This would be a perfect time
to get shitfaced.
What happened?
What happened?
Absolutely everything that could
go wrong today did, everything.
I'm through the
looking glass here.
Everything is fucked up,
Gerry fucked, and fucked out.
I bet I got you beat.
What do you mean?
I would bet you that my last
several hours have been
more soul crushingly sucky
than yours.
Impossible.
Bet?
What happened to you?
She wouldn't let
me drive her there.
So I go to this place,
with ducks on the wallpaper,
and dark wood and hunter green
corduroy couches and shit.
I mean the place
looks like a law library.
Then I figure they're trying
to make the men comfortable,
it is the man who have to wait
in these places.
And then she comes out.
And she's wearing a diaper.
She's wearing a paper diaper,
and she's delirious
on pain killers.
And she's mumbling
about a corn beef sandwich
and a cream soda or something.
She's just standing there
mumbling like an infant
in a paper diaper.
Then she turns to me,
suddenly lucid, and says,
"Did you bring the money?"
I say, "Yes."
She says you can pay the lady
at the desk on your way out.
But then it hits me.
I got nothing to leave.
I don't have a life.
There is nothing that
really means anything to me.
The one thing that could've
meant something to me,
has just joined
the Los Angeles sewer system.
You win.
You fucking win.
I fucking win.
So you're going to Alaska.
So I'm going to Alaska.
[sighs]
♪
[sighs]
I had a horrible dream.
I dreamt that you broke up
with me.
Go back to sleep.
[crying]
♪
What's going on?
Tell him.
Caleb. Hi, I have something
to tell you.
Where are you going?
-I'm moving.
-Camille.
Camille,
say it like you mean it.
-I'm moving.
-You just got here.
She needs to be
around female energy.
I need to be
around female energy.
-Really?
-Yeah, she's moving in with me.
Oh, so you're the female energy?
Ah.
It's just you and some cats
at your place.
Yeah, well, it's a start.
-Aren't they female cats?
-Good point.
Can I talk to you for a minute,
over here?
Sure.
What the fuck are you doing?
What do you mean?
She's moving in with you?
You hardly know her.
Well, that didn't stop you.
When did all this happen?
I gave her my number.
You were there.
She called me a couple of times
with a--with a personal problem.
What kind of personal problem?
Personal problem, one that I'm
sure is unique to her,
but a problem nonetheless.
What?
She didn't...
She didn't know--she don't know
how to put in a tampon.
You got to be kidding me.
Wh--what do you expect?
She's an artist.
Besides I've got the house
in Venice,
I could use a break on the rent.
I mean you know how that is.
-Erica.
-No.
It's as good a move for me
as it is for her.
I will teach her
some basic life skills.
And...I won't have to go home
to an empty house.
-It'll get easier.
-You don't know that.
No.
You don't--
you do not have to say anything.
[sighs]
-Camille.
-Yeah.
Camille, we're going.
Did you know these flowers
were edible?
No.
You've been eating my flowers?
[sighs] Oh...
Right.
♪
[vehicle approaching]
[engine turns off]
Interesting sign.
It's a little terse
but to the point.
So where are you going to live?
That's a very good question.
I almost packed this
by accident.
Rilke.
I forgot I gave this to you.
There's no inscription in it.
I thought you might want it.
It's from my grandmother.
I can't remember
her giving me this.
Well, there was this poem
in here she loved.
She--she marked it.
"Moving forward.
"The deeps part
of my life pour onward,
"As if the river shores
were opening out,
"It seems that things are more
like me now,
"That I can see farther
into paintings.
"I feel closer to
what language can't reach.
"With my senses, as with birds,
"I climb into the windy heaven
out of the oak.
"And in the ponds
broken off from the sky,
My feeling sinks as
if standing on fishes."
It's beautiful.
Why can't I remember
her giving me this?
Maybe because that's not
important.
What's important is that you
have it and what you do with it.
Do you think I could make
my living as a sculptor?
I think
that's the wrong question.
Could you live
without sculpting?
I have.
Ah, but was that living?
I guess it's never that simple.
It's a start.
I think being an artist has very
little to do with talent.
I think it's mostly
about intention.
Whether you make a living
at it or not,
that's for the future to decide.
I like that.
Good.
Now stand up and give me a hug.
I'm going to Alaska.
You take care of yourself.
The universe will do that
for me as long as I let it.
It's a wonderful time
to be alive, Caleb.
♪
Rocket girl, look out!
No, no,
that is just too hysterical.
Now bring it down, Erica.
Bring it way down.
♪
Oh, hey, rocket girl, look out.
Oh--that's too casual.
What, I'm fucking Brando?
Rocket girl!
Rocket girl, no!
Oh, my God.
♪
Rocket! Rocket! Oh, I suck!
Why do I suck all of a sudden?
People, five minutes
to picture, please!
Ahh.
God! Ugh!
Where the hell is my half gingko
half cold press
primrose rutummy tamer tea?
You people are killing me!
Does anybody have a 20
on that bitch's rag tonic?
Rocket girl!
Hey, Jiffy puff,
what are you, background, huh?
It's--it's engine
technician one, technically.
-Hey, that's cool.
-Thanks.
Holding area is over there.
Bye. Thanks. Yeah, yeah, great.
[whirring]
Yeah, see? See?
Watch her, learn.
You're the only one that knows
what the fuck she's doing.
Thanks, sweetheart.
Unh.
♪
Beautiful, baby. Find me, baby.
Find me. Find me.
Are we ready to shoot yet?
[shutter clicking]
It's a nonsmoking set.
Fuck off!
Would you just leave me alone?
God! Dolly back. Please.
Dolly back.
Damn it!
What the hell is she doing here?
I am rocket girl.
♪