The Other Side of the Wind (2018) - full transcript

That's the car...

What was left of it after the accident.

If it was an accident.

Hannaford, before he changed his mind,
was going to give the car

to the young leading actor
of his last movie, John Dale.

And Hannaford was supposed
to have saved him, at some earlier date,

from committing suicide. Or so the story goes...

As for his own death,

his admirers were sure

that Hannaford did not intend
to drive the car off that bridge.

"A corny ending," they said.



J.J. Hannaford would never
be guilty of that.

But there were other opinions.

He died many summers ago, July 2nd.

For years, I personally didn't want
this document shown,

because, frankly, I didn't like the way
I came off in the piece.

But I'm old enough now not to care anymore
how my role in Jake's life is interpreted.

My name is Brooks Otterlake,

probably Hannaford's
most successful acolyte.

Anyway, this little historical document
has been put together from many sources.

From all the footage shot
by TV and documentary filmmakers,

and the students,
critics and young directors

who happened to bring 16
and eight millimeter cameras,

having been invited
to Jake's 70th birthday party.

That was long before cell phone cameras
and computerized images.



The choice of this material is an attempt
to sketch a film likeness

of the man himself as he looked...
through all those different viewfinders.

Hannaford's own unfinished
last motion picture

is part of this testimony,

The Other Side of the Wind.

It has been left, just as it was
when they showed it at his party,

on what turned out to be

the last day of his life.

-Mark it.
-Steam Bath, Take nine.

Action.

Alright, sweetie. You know where to go.

Cut. Thank you, everybody, that's a wrap.

-Brooksie's riding with you if that's OK.
-Sure.

Mr. Hannaford, your meeting
with wardrobe is at 8:00 a.m.

Make it at 7:00.
Let's get the hell out of here.

Same scene, nine o'clock Monday.

Zarah Valeska is giving the party.

According to Jake,
she's the greatest cook in the world.

Is she the one who talked Jake into
letting all the media get at him at once?

-We're the "Close up on Hannaford" people.
-And these ladies are from Life, I guess.

-I'm independent.
-Pister, from The Film Institute.

Everybody else not assigned transportation
can collect in the carpool.

Maggie, you can be chaperone.

Most nudies are driving their own cars.
I want to make sure they can get home.

-And the vids?
-A TV special for the BBC.

No, ma'am, CBC.

I'm doing a film.
He's doing a book on Mr. Hannaford.

And I know somebody somewhere
who isn't.

-But mine is the authorized biography.
-It's certainly one of them, Ms. Rich.

May I present Maggie Warden,
our film editor.

Miss Juliette Rich, the celebrated critic.

Isn't that trying just a little hard
to be funny?

Come on, Matt, I ain't trying to be funny.
Ask the boss.

He thinks they're lousy.

I know what he thinks.

-Hey, Costello, step over here, will ya?
-Who let you in?

He'll want you with him, Mr. Otterlake.
He always does.

-Where is he?
-Where's who?

Where's Jake's car? Do you know?

Want to ride out with the boss?
You can just catch him at the studio gate.

Mister Pister. The first name is Marvin.

-What?
-Isn't it?

This is Matt Costello,
he's Mr. Hannaford's personal assistant.

-I do all the dirty jobs.
-I'm supposed to be selling the picture.

-You'll just have to wait.
-Hi, Billy.

Sorry, Brooksie, I was talking to him.

I guess you'll be riding with Jake--

So they tell me.

Once again!

The bus with the green stripes,
marked "Students," is for the students.

-We should ride with you.
-Can you wait for our second camera?

-You're going to make a...
-Hang on, guys, wait for me.

-Come on!
-Wait!

The jazz musicians and the midgets
in the blue chartered bus.

-Where's The Baron?
-Here, sir.

What's the plan for the head
of the studio?

-Billy's screening the film with him.
-I know it should have been you, Baron,

but according to Jake
I'm more Max's style.

Who knows? Maybe he's right.

Jake?

-Isn't he always?
-We'll see about that.

-I hoped to ride with the naked ladies.
-You're lucky you aren't with the midgets.

All students from the movie
University of Southern California...

or whatever you are...

in the bus with the green stripes.

According to Jake, I'm more Max's style.

Maybe he's right.

Hi, Max, remember me? Billy Boyle.

I've seen you in Hannaford films,
haven't I?

Some early ones on very late TV.

He let me play a few friends of the heroes
for a while.

-We're both referring--
-Where is he?

...actors, aren't we?

Jake?

Well, I...
I don't think we ought to wait for him.

Is he still on the set?

I don't actually know
just where he is at the moment.

Alright, the crew...

the jazz musicians...

and the midgets...

in the blue chartered bus.

Zimmer, I've got a message for you.

From Jake? I got that message.
Everybody got it.

Not this message.

I'm fired?

That's the message?

Why?

Would somebody please tell me
why I'm going to his party?

You're invited.

All these stupid dummies.

They're invited.

This is toward the beginning. It comes
right after what we were shooting today.

She leaves the steam room...
and here's this character waiting for her.

-Right here!
-Through the window right there.

Come on, man.

Life was never like this in Hicksville,
huh, Julie?

-Hicksville?
-That little town you were born in.

I remember, Polack extraction.

Richiviski?

You seem to know quite a lot
about me, Mr. Costello.

Call me Matt.

Matt here, he knows about everybody.

-Keep it quiet.
-He's on that committee,

the one that decides
if you're an American.

Maybe you didn't know
that these people are still in business.

-Mr. Hannaford's investigating me?
-We're still in business, huh?

What am I going to see,
everything he's shot?

The first couple of reels, Max.
The last part's already at the ranch.

Zarah's giving him this party.

She's invited all these "movie freaks."

We'll see the rest of the stuff
when we get there.

Zarah's expecting you, Max.

So is Jake.

I was expecting him here.

Fine. Rolling. Hello, hello...
OK, I'm ready to go.

Just go right ahead and talk,
Mr. Hannaford. Don't mind us

I'll go first.

Mr. Hannaford, is the camera eye
a reflection of reality?

Or is reality a reflection
of the camera eye?

Or is the camera merely a phallus?

-I want a drink.
-You heard him. Let's get it out here.

We oughta start with a broader spectrum.

-Do you agree, Otterlake?
-True. The interview's for everybody, not just us.
But today, there's a special dispensation.

Mr. Hannaford, please slow down.
I'm going to fall off the car.

Mr. Hannaford!

-Dale something.
-John Dale, Max.

He's the kid on the motorcycle.

-According to Jake, the box likes him.
-Box?

The old magic box.

If the camera doesn't like an actor,
it just stares at him.

That's what Jake says.

And if the actor doesn't like
the old magic director?

Yeah.

Is it true Dale walked off the movie?

Well...

He'll come back.

If he doesn't, how will you finish?

Come on, Zimmie, Jake's fine.
He's just like he always was.

You know how he is sometimes.

He's turning sour, Matt.

He's going bad.

Put a can on it, will you?

I'm a makeup man, an expert.

All my life, I've been sticking my nose
into other people's wrinkles.

I know the little signs...

Something you can almost... smell.

-That's what the gypsies say.
-Gypsies?

Nine months we practically lived
with them. Jake's first picture, in Spain.

Come on. Come on!

Alright, bring it. Good.

-Right there on her.
-Hey. Hey. Can you look over here?

-That's it...
-She's an Indian?

A red, red Indian.

In the story.

You'll meet her at the party, Max.

How does the box feel about her?

To assess just how fully that theme
in your work

may be a reflection
of your father's suicide.

The suicide can wait. We ought to start
with a broader spectrum.

Don't you agree, Otterlake?

Mr. Hannaford, began his career...

as a prop man, for the old cliff hangers.

-You were a property man?
-Bombs, buzz saws...

pits full of deadly serpents...

He provided all the...

Skipper, don't turn on the radio.
I'm telling your life story.

-This was in Hollywood?
-Of course.

He shared a bungalow
with his first leading man, you know.

I even know his name. Frank Fryer.
How about that, Skipper?

I'm the only one
who's not doing a book about you.

My book on Hannaford has been canceled.

-Canceled?
-Indefinitely.

The first five chapters took the two of us
three and a half years to do.

I finally had to start directing myself
so I could eat.

The rest is history.

-And now, I suppose you're too busy.
-We both are.

Take it from me, fellas. Our friend here,
he just hates being interviewed.

So, I donated a lot of my old tapes.

Scattered them here and there
among you cineasts, you know.

To spare him as many questions
as possible.

Answers. Answers are my department.

John Dale, for instance.

He looks like a girl.

They all do nowadays, don't they?
That's how they want to look.

That's the scene.

Which scene?

"The" scene.

And you old guys are trying
to get with it.

Is that what this movie is about?

Kids today...

Kids today?
What the hell do you know about it?

What does Jake know at his age?

He better know.

I hear he's putting up his own money.

The bank wanted a name.

Jake wanted him... A baby.

The world's full of them, Zimmie.

Or haven't you noticed?

Early Hannaford films...

-Silents.
-Silents?

Action pictures. Plenty of action.

Jake and Frank, used to strip to the waist
every Saturday night...

and they put their pay envelopes
on the mantlepiece,

and they'd fight for the pot.
What ever happened to him?

Fryer?

I don't know, kid.

They come and they go.

John Dale, for instance? The latest
of all those actors you've discovered.

Discovered? Like you're a pearling farm

and squeezed your movie star
out of an oyster?

No editing really.
It's just the slates cut off.

Gumdrop?

Alright, let's get organized.
Where should we start?

Where old Dad here ran away to sea,
or way back with your ancestors?

Save your voice, Skipper.
It's all here on the tapes.

Right here, listen.

Most of the old actor managers
were micks.

Barrett, McCullough, Hannaford, O'Neil..
What else was there to be?

You carried bricks, or got into politics,
or went on the stage.

Old Junius Hannaford was pretty big
in high tragedy.

And Junius Jr.,
as befits the second generation,

made it into high society.

A pioneer snob, blazing the trail
for the Kellys and the Kennedys.

Randy Moore, for instance,
he was a prop boy.

David Leigh was an extra.

Neil Trevor, Branch Sutter, Glen Garvey...

I happened to notice them.

Just listen.

But Dale I found.

Literally.

Fished him out of the sea.
That's what you'd call a discovery.

Do you get it?

He saved the cat's life.

So, the boy's indebted to him
even for that.

Can you imagine
a relationship more all-consuming...

between master and slave.

Dale was flopping around,
like something you bring up in a net.

We did what we could.

Kept him on the yacht, as a deckhand,
made a sailor of him, or tried to.

Sure, I rescued him.
And I've been rescuing him ever since.

Look what he did with the others.
Glen Garvey, Courtney Saxon...

Courtney? He was selling vacuum cleaners
when Jake discovered him.

-As for Hannaford himself...
-What about him?

Branch Sutter, he was a dishwasher.

-It could be he's wrong this time.
-Who says so?

Zimmer says so.

-I don't know what I think of this one.
-Who does?

Jack Simon?

See that cop back there?

You guys are overloaded.

Thanks, Jack. Somebody'll have to go.

Pister, you're it.

-Come on.

-Can he ride with you, Jack?
-I haven't got the insurance.

See you at the party.

Thanks, Jack.

Good luck getting to the party, Pister.

What happens here?

I'm not really sure, Max.

Maybe it's here she leaves the...

the bomb.

Having fun Mr. Pister?

The people in the last car were
kind of awful.

Mr. Hannaford's car?

They threw me out.

Then I got a ride with a bunch
of video freaks.

But they ran out of gas,
or needed a fix or something.

What are the toys about?

Before this, she'll be pretending
to look in the window at him...

When we get around to shooting it.

She some kind of crook?

Some kind of radical.

Anyway, there's some more shops there,

and the boy thinks she's been looking
at these dolls.

Which doll?

Well, the one she...
he thinks she was looking at.

So... well,
he goes in and buys it for her.

May I see that?

Jake wrote that?

It's transcribed from tapes,
but it hasn't been typed.

"The hippies and the beatnicks. The bums.

Call them what you want to.

They slouch and slack around the floor
because they like it down there.

Talk about the return to the womb.

What about the return to the cave?

Junk. Junk is how you get there.

That's how you dig your way back."

Drugs.

"Junk, for the cool dreams, kid.

And the cool, dim, anonymous gang-shag.

The mutual jack off."

That's sure telling it like it is!

What's in the package?

Package?
You mean what she's got in her bag.

It's either a bomb or her lunch.

The kid's package.

That's the doll.

Now tell me, Jimmy...

Billy.

Okay, Jimmy.

There is going to be film showing
there's a doll in this package?

Sure, that's easy, Max. Just an insert.

And the bomb?

And if there is a bomb,
when does it blow up?

Well, we don't actually know.

What do we know?

You'd better ask Jake. I'd better read the script.

So, there isn't one.

Jake is just making it up
as he goes along.

He's done it before.

Dream projections of Hannaford himself.

Man, they're real. He made them real.
He gave them existence.

-He molded them out of clay.
-Or cut them out with a pair of scissors.

He conceived them.

Like a god.

A terrible and jealous god. That's what
he's been with this new boy of his.

John Dale is Hannaford's
personal creation.

There's something else, too.
An even stronger claim.

Very much in the Hannaford style.

Understand Max,
this isn't even a rough cut.

Sure.

You'll have to see the rest
of the picture.

And Jake's gonna have to shoot it.

Like I told you, Max, an awful lot
of the footage is out at the ranch.

We'll be screening it for you
at the party.

Tell Jake he wasted my time.

Either one...

A little more basil. Otherwise, it's good.

-Right over there, see him?
-Yeah.

-Nobody can do it like you, Miss Valeska.
-No. Nobody.

-Keep moving. Give it four feet.
-Camera down.

It's open season tonight, Mr. Otterlake.

We are in public domain.

Major studio is a bullshit words,
but that's the word.

-I made a picture that made money.
-Right.

What about those people who can't
make a picture that makes money?

They're not interested in making a movie
that makes money.

He could take a mediocre idea,
and do something atrocious with it.

-It's absurd.
-I thought it was groovy--

The need to make money creates the need
for a certain kind of picture.

And the picture...

-That's Jewish logic.
-I'm Jewish.

I guess that's your opinion.

The gerontology of it's iconography...
is so incredibly facile...

If you indulged in aestheticism
for its own sake,

it could be called an abstract.

If the audience can't get it,
what's the point of going?

I'm trying to...  I'd like John Wayne's
audience to see my movie.

You've got an entire revolution going on,
you think it won't be reflected in films?

It's not a real revolution.
Not the way you think it is.

There's rich people,
poor people starving, a middle class.

Why wouldn't they listen to me?
What assholes they were,

what a dying dinosaur
they were involved in.

Why defend a corrupt system?

I'm not defending the system. You don't
see the point. I hate the system. I think that it's relatively easy
to make a good movie.

Not a great one. That's something else. -Hannaford's new movie?
-You do know about that.

Indeed. We'll be seeing you tonight.

Not this character you won't.
Not until they find an actor for it.

Mostly, we're supposed to feel him
spying on the boy,

and on the girl too, of course...
from the shadows.

Am I quoting you correctly?
Of course I am.

-Of course.
-She has total recall.

And a splendid imagination.

-Just answer the question.
-Would you repeat it, please?

-I didn't think you asked anything.
-I guess I haven't asked it.

I just want to know what he represents.

As I conceive of it,
this character in the film, he's sort of a hermit living out there.

There is a possibility.

A Peeping Tom. You tell us.

This part we didn't cast.

This old man.

He's Hannaford.

Hannaford himself.

Hannaford!

-Happy birthday.
-Mr. Hannaford, it's me.

Happy birthday, Jake.

-Mr. Hannaford.
-Happy birthday.

I'm Marvin P. Fassbender.

Of course you are.

Mr. Hannaford.

Mr. Otterlake, is it true
you're planning a Western?

This is Mr. Hannaford's night.
Let's save the questions for him.

-You two are very close.
-I'd like to ask you about that.

-Why?
-Come on, Otterlake.

Why do you think you have to be
as rude as him?

As rude as you are. In print anyway.

-I liked your last picture.
-Sure.

I know that it was repetitive,
but...but...

but... oh shit.

For what it was, it worked.

She wasn't that kind in her review.
Not that you did me much harm.

How much harm can you do

to the third biggest grosser
in movie history.

Did it make that much?
How modest.

Did you know that when
his production company goes public,

that your friend stands to walk away
with 40 million dollars?

Forty million?

She'll keep on writing
that I stole everything from you.

-I'll never walk away from that.
-It's alright to borrow from each other.

What we must never do
is borrow from ourselves.

Of course you are close, you two.

You have to be.

You have no choice. Please, dear lady...

don't tell us what you mean by that.

Kill the music, will you?
They're still shooting Zarah.

That's what she wanted,
don't you think?

If she says so.
She's picking up the tab.

Gypsies, jazz and mariachis,

all for a bunch of creeps who only want
to listen to themselves talking.

Zarah Valeska, Take one, Scene two.

Zarah, speaking of great men,

your name has been linked romantically
with quite a few celebrities.

Wasn't it understood that we weren't
going to talk about love affairs?

What you agreed to talk about
is Mr. Hannaford.

-A fascist, for Christ sake?
-Hannaford, no.

How about Jack Simon, right here?

You tell us, Brooksie.

Jack's got it in his contract.
Every picture he directs,

he gets to shoot the animals personally,
with a gun. They even pay him in guns.

No, they pay me money, kid.

And they say I imitate him.

That's your thing, Otterlake,
you're good at imitations.

Do Jack Benny.

-He's the one that's into guns.
-A fascist? Shall we define our terms?

Spades, spics, micks, honkies,
honkies, Hebes, those kind of terms?

A fasci-tist?
He don't like them kinda people.

-What kind of people does he like?
-Nobody. Nobody at all.

Nobody in the plural.

And then, who in the particular?

Mr. Otterlake, for instance...
Miss Valeska.

It's been reported that you call him
G.F. sometimes.

Jokingly, of course.

Is that right?
G.F., meaning "God the Father."

I call Mr. Hannaford,

Mr. Hannaford.

God isn't dead.
Reflection of your attitude.

Right Mr. Hannaford?

Well, kid. He's certainly Jewish.

Thus spaketh Jake.

-What's that about?
-One of your old tapes?

I've deeded them all to the cause.

Tapes from that book
you're doing, Otterlake?

From that book we're not doing.

You're the first big director
I ever tried to write about--

First one to give up. But I still know
all the material. Religion...

Here it is, The Gospel According to Jake:

God the Father, is an old Jew,
invented by a lot of other old Jews

in a hopeless attempt to put down
the Jewish mother.

Jewish mother?

That's what he says the new scene
is about. Everything, even his movie.

What's that about the movie?

We don't talk about the movie.

Try the Baron here.

Under torture, he might squeal.
He writes the scripts.

So, Mr. Hannaford likes to say.

Don't pretend to be stupid.

You're supposed to be the brainy one
in this club, clan or whatever.

It's a highly informal organization.

The tape we were hearing.
The subject is God.

-Is he a member?
-She...

We're all ruled by the wind,
aren't we, lady?

So, if the Lord is a lady,
and God's will is Her will,

then we can all relax and stop
expecting the universe to be logical.

You heard the man, lady.
We're right back where we started.

Back to Mama.

That's when Brooksie's at his best.
When he's using straight Hannaford dialog.

That's real nice, Jack, coming from you.

-What I'd like to clarify...
-Yes?

-is...
-Yes?

is... is.... how his disciple feels
about the new Hannaford film.

-Who?
-Who?

You.

Hey, why pick on me?

The man is infested with disciples.
I'm the apostle, lady.

Just like Saint Paul.

-I know the lyrics to that one too.
-We're sure you do, Brooksie.

The Apostle Paul packaged it.
By now, Jesus was dead.

Be quiet about 30 seconds.

And so the subject was in public domain,

and...

let's see... Where was I, folks?

So, when Paul dreamed up Christianity...

and...

and stuck the Antity into Christ--

As long as I'm still twitching,
you won't stick in into me.

-Isn't that just what he's doing?
-Movies and friendship...

-those are mysteries.
-And religion.

The Baron's into that,
I know his material too.

You ought to get away from both.

"A mystery may reveal. It never explains."

-Right?
-Yes.

Just like you, Mr. Hannaford.

Just like me and God.
If it weren't for the difference in sex,

how could you tell us apart?

-Are those supposed to be John Dale?
-He asked for them.

It was Mr. Hannaford's idea.

-How's this one?
-Fine, Joey.

So, how do they look?

Stupid, that's how.

Your leading man.

The poor, sick, hungry kid

you pulled out of the water
and stuck into pictures,

the orphan, Mr. Johnny Dale.

Do you know where he came from?
Where he really came from?

A big rich family in Ohio.

How do you like them apples?

He didn't break out of any reformatory.

He graduated from boarding school,
one of the snotty expensive ones.

We found one of his teachers.
He's coming here with Billy.

-illy is supposed to bring Max. When is he joining the party?

He isn't.

No?

-Any word from Texas?
-The oil money?

Not yet.

Well, here it is...
if anybody wants to see it.

Darling, this marvelous bash
you're giving him,

If I'm to understand, your whole idea

was to get Jake Hannaford in touch
with a new generation.

And vice versa. Yes.

Very few of your guests are his own age.

Most people of Mr. Hannaford's age
are too old for him.

Hey, beautiful.

Hello.

We don't have much of a past,
do we, beautiful?

We made just half of a picture together.

That was in Miss Valeska's country. -In Austria.
-What happened?

-Hitler. That's what.
-He threw you out?

She threw him out.

Her USO Troop led our...
armies into battle.

I witnessed it from the rear.

But you did liberate the Ritz.

Her friend Hemingway put in for that one.

Jake was three bottles ahead of him.

Where did you come from?

The studio.

Jake, I told you.

Hemingway?

That left hook of his was overrated.

"Every man contains within himself...

the whole condition of humanity."

Write that down, somebody.

-Somebody did.
-She even gave me the book.

Mr. Hannaford enjoys
pretending to be ignorant.

Then she spoiled the present
by telling me who gave it to her.

-Who?
-Just someone he doesn't happen to like.

The queers adore great women.

They like all women, uncle.
They're the only sex that does.

True.

Real men never like us.

Men only like men.

And women keep us away from each other.

"But if I cut him off," we ask ourselves,

"cut him off from all his good companions,

what will be left of him?"

An amputee, perhaps,
an emotional basket case...

You chop away all the same.

Half a man is better than none.

Happy Birthday, Jack.

As I open my mouth, we raise our glasses
to a  great gentleman,

who is not only a great artist,

but one who's been called
the Ernest Hemingway of the cinema.

The Murnau of the American motion picture.
Who Murnau is, I don't remember.

Let me see...
Murnau and Dean, the vaudeville act.

As I recall, we played
in either Lowes Newark or Pickleton on Thames in Great Britain.

That's enough, Georgie.

You ought to make a wish.

What for?

The one thing you'd most like to have.

Or the one last thing you'd like to do.

Don't you think it can happen?

It'll take a lot of blowing.

That should be a job for Miss Rich.

She'd "huff and puff
and blow the house down."

OK, let's get to the movie.

Yes.

-Start the movie again.
-I can't.

-Why can't you?
-Because it doesn't work.

-What doesn't work?
-The projector.

-Which projector?
-Both of them.

What happened, Jake?

-Who knows? Johnny Dale, maybe.
-Dale?

He could've snuck into the generator
with his monkey wrench.

-What is this, another energy crisis?
-There's too many camera lights.

Never went in much for symbolism,
did we Baron?

Alright now, let me have your attention.

We've got a power failure on our hands.

The ranch's generators have broken down.

But we hope the situation
will be temporary.

Meanwhile, we'll be getting lamps for you
from out in the stables,

and lighting up candles,

so you can all find your way
to the booze and the eats.

Projection of Mr. Hannaford's
motion picture

The Other Side of the Wind,

will naturally, be suspended

until the juice comes on.

We trust you good folks
will find your own ways

to amuse yourselves.

All passengers to the life boats.

Our gallant musicians will keep
right on till the end.

They can't see the notes,
but that's alright, they can't read them.

Abie, how nice to see you looking so old.

-Getting anything?
-Not with color.

-Black and white maybe?
-Black and white?

Whistling in the dark, old man?

Kid, you whistle or you whimper.
How is it in your corner?

What got him an invitation?

Confrontation's the word for it.
Abie, take it up with the hostess.

Zarah? You must be nuts.

Mother seems to think young blood
would be good for us.

-She could be right at that.
-She's always right.

Excuse me, fellows, I think
we have ourselves a confrontation.

I dig. It's not that he didn't make any
female stars.

It's just that he didn't make them stars.

That's my whole thesis.

Great thesis.
So, the old man can still score.

Who says so?

How he scores and who he scores with,

gets us into
some very interesting country.

OK, Zarah, no romance.

You meant with Mr. Hannaford, I suppose?
There wasn't any.

I do wish you could bring yourself
to open up on Jake.

No sex at all.

Like at Disney?

Yeah, some still use them.
They make a drawing for everything...

-This way, Mr. Burroughs.
-Dr. Burroughs.

We have our own generator.

This sometimes happens.

These are our storyboards.

All these.

-Here.
-Thank you.

These arrows show they're going
for a closer shot.

-A zoom or a dolly?
-It doesn't make a difference.

-Of course it does.
-Okay.

Looks like a crutch.

Jake started out in silent movies.

He goes way back.

The movie he's making now
is a real departure for him.

I think he's losing it.

Go in on the left.

Yeah, I'm good.

-More light here?
-Yeah. He's coming.

Tomorrow's Sunday, Mavis.

You'll be flying down with us to Mexico.

-What for?
-Montaña rojas.

-Who?
-Bulls.

A very dangerous breed, sweetie.
One of them once killed a friend of ours.

We'll see what happens
to our new boy tomorrow. I don't know. I have school on Monday.

I'll write a note to your teacher.

-Who's the joker with the cigarette?
-Miguel.

He was the best of all.

Best of what?

The best of all our bullfighters.

We followed old Miguel all over Spain.

That's Jake, aiming his gun at him,
in the shooting gallery.

Another birthday.

What a party that was.

No bums, no movie buffs,
no spies, no spooks,

just... paid up members of the club.

-Miguel Ortega.
-The best.

-Number one.
-Until he got killed.

Dad, I hope you weren't responsible
for that.

I just had one shot at him. I missed.

But he got the cigarette.

Get that spook outta here.

-Come on. You can handle yourself.
-Get out of here!

-Respect Mr. Hannaford's privacy.
-You too.

Hey, Billy,  leave that jukebox alone.
It doesn't work with solar energy.

I need some new music.

And you shall have it, boy,
wherever you go.

A one, and a two and a three.

That's great.

Where the hell is Matt?
He should be taking this call.

Stupid, that's how they look.

Yeah?

Go on in, Zimmie. Have a drink.

How could I? Besides...

I don't know these people.
It's a whole new business.

These leading actors nowadays...

stars even,

I don't know their names.

You know the dummy's name?
Old Pat here says we can never guess.

John Dale?

Oscar, that was his real name.

You know at school
what he was famous for?

Fornication?

We got somebody coming here tonight
who's going to tell us all about it.

Yeah?

Darryl Zanuck?

A message for him.

It's for Pocahontas,
or whatever it is Jake calls her.

She's in there at the screening.

Come on in, Zimmie.

Join the fun and games.

All those Mr. Dales of yours
are certainly life-like.

So is Mr. Dale!

To look at him,
you'd swear he was real.

I got a message.

You, Minnehaha. It's for you.

From Zanuck.

Call his secretary first thing
Monday morning for an appointment.

He's got a picture for her.

Darryl? Swell.
When's he joining the party?

He isn't.

The Hannaford mafia isn't
looking very festive.

What's the big worry, Skipper?

They like to worry.

Worry is their thing.

Four days is a long time.

-Four days until what?
-Friday.

Thanks, sweetie.

-Could you get me one, please?
-What?

What's Friday?

Friday we... close down.

Jesus, you can't finish the picture
in four days.

I've been over-scheduled before.
Let's drink to that.

How many times
have you been broke, Skipper?

At my present age, Brooksie, just...

once.

Terrific. It's nice being alone.

All right now.
Let me have your attention.

A small auxiliary generator
from the stables

has been hooked up
to the movie projector.

If you'll all proceed quietly,

to Mr. Hannaford's
private projection room. -Yes, Mavis.
-They got the projector fixed.

-Didn't you hear?
-Didn't we all?

-Aren't you coming?
-Yes, but first we need more booze.

We wouldn't want to go in there alone,
would we?

I want to show you something you may like.
Best seat in the house.

Excuse me.

He's in there,

with all the other guests,

watching himself on the screen, isn't he?

Isn't who?

-Oscar... John, John Dale.
-Yeah.

-Yes, your leading man.
-Not my leading man, buddy boy.

You've seen this before.

-Over and over.
-How is it they don't have any... clothes?

-They got wet. In the other reel.
-Wet?

She didn't know him,
but she grabbed his raincoat.

That was last night in this other reel.

And now it's today.

She took off her clothes in the toilet...
in here...

This morning, he's got his pants hung up
to dry on the train.

Train.

Are we still rolling?

I've got to keep shooting.

Listen, kid. Listen.

Somebody's watching you.
You can feel it.

There's somebody else out there.

Up there in that window...
there's nothing behind that window.

They're all the same,
there's somebody up there peeking down.

Did he drop the scissors?

Watch it, boy. She has her own ideas.

Leigh...

Kingman...

Branch Sutter...

Garvey...

Absent friends.

...and John Dale.

Not in the same league.

Believe me.

It's funny, I don't see one of those men
here at your party tonight.

Tonight is for the freakos
and the snoops.

If you'll excuse us, please.

Did you know they had dissolves
in Shakespeare? Ask Hannaford.

He knows everything.
Shakespeare's the Hannaford family curse.

He knows everything about the Hannafords,
which is my curse.

Everybody knows about ol' Granddad.
Junius the First, in the tinseled toga.

His limbs were always covered
in dirty pink tights.

So as not to... inflame the female members
of his audience.

Right, Skipper?
That's where the curse comes from.

Mr. Hannaford, would you sit
on the ancestral throne?

Shall we give them a picture?

Shall we not? Later, okay?

-Come on, let's go.
-Later. Way later.

This is a waste of time anyway.

The noblest Roman.

Shanty Irish.

Lace curtain.

Like Seneca,
he bled to death in the bathtub.

One of the few times he'd ever sat in one.

Now, Junius Junior...

Yeah, he really made it into high society.

Piss-elegant.

"Blazing the trail
for the Kelly's and the Kennedys."

Otterlake, the human tape recorder.

That's me, Skipper. That's me.

Then...

you know about the chandelier.

I'm the authority.

The old Hollywood Hotel, wasn't it?

They found him on Sunday morning.

Hanging from it.

After which,
you had to go to work for a living.

So, what do you do next?

What does anybody do?

And he's on all the credits
of Jake's screenplays, right?

I amuse Mr. Hannaford.
He has curious pleasures.

Games, he likes to play games.

I'm a writer who stopped writing
one afternoon in Budapest in 1929.

Do you have a camera?

I'm prepared to make
a limited declaration.

This famous...

old lion of yours,
he's not what you think, you know?

Lions are cats.

And Jake, my dear, is a cat.

A cat that walks like a bear.

I'd call him a necromancer.

But I do not know
if he has raised the dead.

There you are.

Yes. This gentleman kindly gave me...

permission.

Just stay there. Do you mind?

Oh, no.

Here she comes again.

Push him down, dear.

Hold him down, choke him, drive
that tongue in his throat. Choke him.

Alright, sweetie.
You know where to go.

Let's have that tongue. Let's see it. Come on, sweetie. Slowly.

Slow...

Yeah. Go on.

Kid!

Kid. Listen, kid.
Now you're getting your courage up.

Are you getting it up,
or are we fresh out of courage?

OK. Now the necklace is caught in it.

Give us the reaction, John.

You've got to believe this could happen.

What if the truth isn't
so goddamned impressive.

That's our secret. Scissors.

Now she's going to cut it away.

Snip, snip.

Snippety...

Cut.

What has she cut, kid?
Your little jewels, Johnny, or...

hers?

Let's feel that suspense, shall we?
Come on, honey. Feel it

Suspense, baby. Pure Hitchcock.
If you'll pardon my language, sweetie.

Hold still, Johnny.

You can do that, can't you?

-Is that a cut?
-Keep it rolling. Follow him...

Hold on him and keep rolling.

He said keep rolling.
Everybody, keep rolling.

Both cameras. I'd like a record of this.
That's it. Hold it on him.

And goodbye, Johnny Dale.

Hey, look what you dropped.

Fifteen precious minutes of Hannaford.

Every little bit added to what we've got,
makes it just that much more.

-What happened?
-I told them the spots were too much.

Where's the circuit breaker?

-What's a circuit breaker?
-I'm pulling up.

-Not again.
-I'm sorry.

-We are blacked out for good.
-'Scuse me.

Just watch the birthrate
nine months from tonight.

What happened?
Did that gennie break down again?

-Twice in one night. This is sabotage.
-Good heavens. Who do you suspect?

This cineaste?

He wouldn't know a cineaste from a hole.
Probably a midget with a grudge.

-I saw your film.
-You won't see any more of it tonight.

Why not?

No lights, no projection, dumb dumb.

-Excuse me.
-Besides, I didn't make it.

You will, kid. You will.

-Let me tell you what I thought.
-Get us a drink, will you, sweetie?

Just look for Jake Hannaford.
He glows in the dark. Right, Brooksie?

What you imitate, is him.

The man, not the movie; your idea of him.

You know, the bull fights
and the big game,

the whole macho bit.

Now, the truth of the matter is,

that as a macho, he ain't all that much.

That chest ain't near as hairy
as he'd like you to think.

Your guy's a big pink lobster?

Nothing's really tough...

Except the shell.

Now what?
I ask you what's so tough about you,

you ask if I wouldn't like to find out,

we entertain the folks with a good,
old-fashioned Hollywood fist fight?

Well...

If that's the way you want it, kid.

Old fashioned is the word, alright,
even in the way you do Hannaford.

Maybe he was like that 30 years ago.

I'll give him... 40 years.

My Jake can still lick the shit
out of yours.

-What the hell did you do that for?
-I wasn't even here.

This is all going on film, you know.

-Come on, get him out of here.
-Got him?

Putting a little extra zing
on the lobster's claw, Brooksie.

I'd do the same for you.

We imitation Hannafords
have got to stick together.

I brought that school teacher.
Remember?

You were supposed
to bring Max David.

Jake, I've got to talk to you about that.

No sweat. A couple of wranglers
will take him to the local first aid.

-You think it'll be alright?
-Sure.

We'll donate his motorcycle to charity.

Please, if you're going to have a fight,
invite me.

Who told you I was broke?

Well...

Billy said you sold the boat.

He did, did he?
How about the roof over my head?

How does that grab you?

You mean the ranch?

Out in the snow, kid.

Over the hill and down dale...

But let's not ever speak
of Master John Dale again.

Dale.

That's what really bugs you,
isn't it? Dale.

Of all your troubles,
what's one lousy leading man?

Less than the dust
beneath my chariot wheels.

Cheers. I'll drink to that.

Is that for me? Thank you, Billy.

Pass it on.

Right on.

Billy.

Hey.

What are you doing, Billy? Smoking.

What's it look like?

The way things are going tonight,
it could be a reefer.

Nowadays, we call it a joint.

What do you need tea for,
you got gum drops.

We know.
That's to keep you off the juice.

He wants to see you.

Yeah?

Well, I want to see him.

I've got that teacher waiting
and I want to--

Guess who joined us?

Herman the German.

Hermie.

How's the boy? And you, Billy?

Jake, I just told you.

Kept you busy just collecting
school teachers?

Hey, can I please get myself
something to eat?

I wasn't just collecting school teachers.

Didn't they feed you?

All they do on airplanes is feed you.

Turbulence.

You threw up.

Give him some candy, Billy.

Jake, those oil guys...

Keep the voices down. These freaks got
the whole joint wired for sound.

I caught one bugging a cactus.

What about the old guy?

Don't be bashful, Hermie.
We know the answer.

They want no part of us.

Neither does Max.

-Right, Billy?
-No.

Max David, that dirty crook.

-Who needs him?
-We do.

He's so crooked,

he's got rubber pockets
so he can steal soup.

Our best chance was that oil money.

Otterlake, what about him?

-Yeah, what about me?
-Brooksie!

We wondered if you knew
about the screening at the drive-in.

-We're screening the rest.
-He's seen the movie.

Not everything.

Well, we don't have everything.

Leave it to Jake,
pretty soon you'll have too much.

You bet, we've had our troubles before.

Want your little friend
to get you a drink?

-Thanks, Brooksie.
-He's Max's golden-haired boy, isn't he?

They gave Brooks his own company.

Tell us something we don't know.

I brought that school teacher.

Jake'll see him if
and when he feels like it.

What about Max David?

That's who you were to bring out here
after the screening.

He blew it.
Must be all that candy he eats.

Me?

You were the one with Max.

Where is he?

And what the hell's candy
got to do with it?

Could be softening your brain.

It's for the sugar. You know that.
Since I got off that stuff.

Speaking of which...

Speaking of which, here's little Mavis,

who'll bring us a little
fresh encouragement, won't you, sweetie?

-Shouldn't I go home and pack?
-Pack?

I mean, if we're going to Mexico.

We go as we are, sweetie.

Just as we are.

Wasn't very smart, you know.
Poor-mouthing in front of Otterlake.

You know who he is, don't you?

Of course I do. I've seen his pictures.
He's a big success.

Brooks Otterlake is money,
not just success, but money.

His old man owns half the trees in Canada.

Yes, and you know what Billy told him.

He told him we're in trouble.

Well, aren't we?

When you talk poor to the rich,
they jump to conclusions.

They think we're getting ready
for the touch.

And that's what we're doing?

Could have been the general idea
until Uncle Billy loused it up.

Mr. Hannaford, excuse me...

Didn't I just hear you saying
about Otterlake?

No more questions, Junior.

Where did this yo-yo come from?

I did one of the first

really positive critical appraisals
of Brooks Otterlake.

Hurray for you, buddy boy.

I just want to be helpful.
From what I overheard,

I understand there's some thought
of approaching him.

A word from me certainly couldn't hurt.
He's bound to feel gratitude--

Mr. Otterlake's a chum.

We don't hustle our chums for dough.
We're kind of strict about that.

Always remember that your heart
is God's little garden.

-Is that recorder still running?
-No.

-Well, see that it isn't.
-There's a camera somewhere.

A couple of them.

Studying a man like Jake Hannaford,
that's an experience.

Don't you miss it. Stick with the job.

Eat a little shit, Mr. Pister.

Have fun.

-Was that really...
-That's the latest message.

Roger.

I did something I shouldn't have done.

-I said I'm going to the library.
-It's groovier in here.

Billy? What are you doing?

Otterlake.

-For Christ's sake, Brooksie.
-What?

You know about Billy.

He's been on the program for nine years.
Why'd you do that?

What is the fundamental
aesthetic distinction

between a zoom and a dolly?

What possible difference can that make
except to another dolly?

-Forget it.
-What?

Hi.

This is the one that hurts, Brooksie.

Skipper... This is a scene we both hoped
we'd never get to.

I don't think it's going to play.

Not even for comedy.

How much do you need?

How much have you got?

Remember when you first appeared
on that location of mine in Iran?

Yeah, I didn't even have fare back home.

Just that... second hand tape recorder.

A raggedy-ass kid.

When was it?

Only four years ago.

Skipper?

Yes.

That...

forty million that was...

mentioned...

I know, kid.

It's only a distant hope.

How's that for dialogue?

Tell you what, Brooksie...

You might just lean a little on Max David.

You do the leaning,

he's got to give.

I did set up the screening.

So you did, Brooksie.

And he hated every frame.

He's an idiot, Jake.
They're all idiots. You know that.

He's your idiot.

Up to a point.

Don't be pompous, Brooksie.

You made his company all that loot.

Christ knows I didn't.

Don't think I'm not ready
to put up a fight for you.

Want me to spare you the embarrassment?

It's you I'm thinking of. I don't want
to have to listen to Max David

and all his stupid...

turning you down.

Don't give up the ship, eh, Brooksie?

I'm not.

I told you this wouldn't play.

You alright, Zimmie?

Sure. Don't worry about me.
You've got troubles of your own.

There's always TV.

There must be plenty of work
for a good makeup man.

-I got a suggestion.
-Yeah?

It's what you can do with them dummies.

I know what I can do with them.

Listen, Pat.
You take them dummies, see,

and you take this piece of iron pipe,

and you slash and beat and chop away
to your heart's content.

Or maybe give the pipe to Jake.

He'd feel a whole lot better afterwards,
believe me.

The state requires you...?

Well, in... Yes, every state does.

So, in order to graduate by January,
I have to take one correspondence course.

Mr. Hannaford...

You have two more credits to go?

Mr. Hannaford.

-She won't pay that?
-She won't sign for it.

Mr. Hannaford?

Dr. Bradley Pierce Burroughs.

Peas.

-Peas?
-Bradley Peas Burroughs.

Not that it matters. How do you, sir?

Here you go.

-May I take your...?
-Yes. Thank you.

The doc here is professor
of English Literature.

at the Frannahan Boarding Academy
for Boys.

Clivedale.

That's the school's name.

He also teaches Dramatics.

And who do you think was my star pupil?

Of course, we knew him then as Oscar.

Oscar.

Tell about Aunt Daisy with the funny hats.

Well... they weren't that funny.

She raised him, so you said.

And from the time he was able to walk,
he used to put on shows.

You know, with his auntie's hats
and gowns and dresses.

The way Dale tells it,
he didn't even want to be an actor.

Supposedly Jake's idea.
He practically forced him into it.

What was he doing...

in Acapulco, besides getting stoned?

He made the trip just to see you.

Does all this matter?

I think it does to Jake,

Oh, Christ.

And the name change?

For that,
I'm afraid we have to blame Oscar Wilde.

We had this...

Yeah.

There was an unpleasant little...

You see there was this...

We had this teacher.

He was just one of those little...

You mean he was a faggot.

This teacher was a faggot.

Well... Mr. Hannaford...

This story concerns my school.

I'm in no position to...

-publish...
-Publish and be damned.

Look, we've run out of film.

You can speak off the record.

Dale was in no way involved, you know,

but among the boys, there was a...

great deal of morbid conversation,
I'm afraid, on unhealthy subjects.

As you could imagine,
with a name like Oscar?

What happened to that teacher?

-We let him go, of course.
-Let him go.

What about the police?

The man was sick, Mr. Hannaford.

But those young boys,

they must have been sick
after he finished with them.

I hope you're not worried about Dale.

You think I should be?

Wouldn't that depend, Mr. Hannaford,
on your own personal interest?

-What are you driving at, Dr. Burroughs?
-Nothing!

Nothing.

I'm just his director, not his Aunt Daisy.

I'm just his English teacher.

Certainly, he has every reason
to be grateful to you.

I'm sure one day,
when one of his fine performances

gets the Academy Award,
you'll be grateful to him.

Notice how careful he is not to refer
to it as an Oscar.

Would you like to take a dip,
Dr. Burroughs?

A dip?

The pool!

What a grand suggestion.

A little more hooch would be helpful.
I'll be right with you.

Good. Where do I change?

Right here.

In the sight of God.

We all promise not to look.

Yes, I suppose
all school teachers are prigs.

I suppose...

Prigs or faggots.

Now, now Mr. Hannaford.

Now, now Dr. Burroughs.

We were conned, Mother.

He was a fake.

She knows the way they met.

When Mr. John Dale was pulled
out of the water,

the famous would-be suicide.

"Would-be suicide?"

I'm bored with the whole story.

Would-be suicides ought to be
treated like drunks?

Turns out he doesn't belong to you.

Belong?

The old Chinese business, remember?

You save a life, you own that life.

Finders keepers?

Jake isn't a Chinaman.

And Dale wasn't no suicide.

No, he was an actor.
He wasn't drowning, he was auditioning.

Jake, that boy didn't run away.

He was thrown away.

Yes, Mother.

And sweet, holy Jesus.
What a relief that was.

Like getting rid of an aching tooth
or the monkey off your back.

A drug habit's something
you've got to kick.

Yes, and my foot was getting sore.

-How are you going to finish it.
-That boy is all washed up, Ms. Valeska.

The picture.
Isn't that what matters?

We've got that footage
of him bringing the clothes to her

in all that wind.

-Right, Maggie?
-To the girl?

What then?

The girl. What about her?

Yes, what about her?

We're all interested.

Dale wasn't.

And neither is Mr. Hannaford.

That's funny, isn't it?

A scream.

I'd just like to ask Mr. Hannaford

if things would've been very different
if Dale had been her lover?

If they weren't lovers,
doesn't that sort of spoil the pattern?

-Ms. Rich.
-She's on again.

You ask him.

Why don't you get lost?

Tonight, it's all on the record.

It's all hanging out.
That's how Zarah wants it.

-A present for you.
-The truth shall set us free.

-Not from me, from Zimmie.
-Zimmie?

There's a card with it.

-We ought to have a drink.
-You fired him.

I always fire, Zimmie.
I fire Zimmie constantly.

Anyway, it's my birthday.

I always give the presents.

That's some kind of a gag, we know.

He makes the gags, too.

Did he tell you where I should stick it?

Zimmie's jokes.

Just in case you want to use it
on those dummy John Dales he made for you.

Speaking of presents...
Have I got a present.

Have a go at the dummies, Jake.

They break even more easily than people.

Gentlemen.

Ladies.

We are presenting an award

to the other half
of The Other Side of the Wind.

The better half.

A bone...

for Pocahontas.

A little curio we picked up somewhere.

A bit of our own pale-faced craftsmanship.

Indian bone.

The inscription goes back
to before all this was movie country.

Just after gold was found,

the Indian population dropped
pretty quickly.

And in ten years,
about 90 thousand of them...

just disappeared.

Well, in those good old days,
our gallant honkey pioneers...

used to cut off Indian ears
and pickle them in whiskey, for souvenirs.

And on pieces of bone, like this,

they'd write funny little jokes.

"I am off the reservation at last."

And so are you, my dear.

Perhaps you'd like to present this
to our leading man.

Right up his ass.

The old man is a destroyer.

What he creates, he has to wreck.
It's a compulsion.

Then we must wait, my dear,

for him to eat us alive.

Unless, perhaps you are a critic.

He does tend to push them
to the side of his plate.

But others,

we who glow a little in his light,

-the fireflies...
-Fireflies, I'll drink to that!

...he does quite often swallow whole.

It is a fact,

that some of us
he chews on rather slowly.

And you wouldn't call him a destroyer?

I withdraw the aphorism,

and give you in it's place
a simple law of physics.

No machine ever produces as much
as it consumes.

And everybody was happy

until they found him one Sunday morning
in his suite in the old Hollywood Hotel,

hanging from a chandelier.

Early morning, just before dawn.

Not yet.

Flashback, Mavis.

An old fashioned flash back.

We're out on the boat.

And we just happen to notice
somebody drowning.

Trying to. A young punk
nobody ever heard of.

John Dale.

They've heard of him now.

Yes.

How's this? After we dried him out,

we tried to get him interested
in staying dry. But no.

We know the story.

Backwards.

I just can't get him
interested in anything.

Put me in a movie, make me a movie star.
What does that prove?

What does it prove, Mavis?

Bores him to death.

But he stops trying to die.
I cured him of that.

Master Johnny just...

kicks me sharply in the groin,

and walks away.

Suicide.

We were speaking of suicides.

Want me to bring you another scotch?

Well?

What can I do for you, Miss Rich?

You could tell me what's going on here.

Or why.

I wouldn't even begin to try.

After Monday,
I won't have to worry about it.

What does that mean?

Guess.

I don't want to.

It sounds like you are quitting.

You wouldn't do that.

It's Chapter 11.

We're finished.

See you around.

Where's Matt?

He's got that meeting with the bankers
in New York,

he's going straight to the airport.

He was supposed to fix it
with the drive-in theater.

For the screening?
Yeah, he's stopping there first.

Good. But, Jake said we shouldn't
tell too many people.

I won't. There ain't much left
of this party as it is.

Jesus.

Up with the fireflies eh, Billy?

Right on.

Shine little glow worm

Glimmer, glimmer

Shine little glow worm

Glimmer, glimmer

Lead us lest too far we wander

Love's sweet voice is calling yonder

Shine little glow worm

Glimmer, glimmer

Shine little glow worm

Glimmer, glimmer

I'm sorry JJ.

It's almost time to go to the drive-in
to screen the rest of the picture.

Shine little glow worm, glimmer, glimmer

Shine little glow worm, glimmer, glimmer

Shine little glow worm, glow for me

Shine all over me

Sounds like shooting.

Baron, I'm surprised at you.

That's a lousy line of dialogue
and you know it.

Fastest gun in the West, folks.

Jake?

-What the hell are we doing?
-We're having a party.

Hey, you, Pocahontas.

From your boss.
He says you'll know what to do with it.

-My God, there's reinforcements.
-Minnehaha.

-What?
-Princess Laughing Water.

She's sure off the reservation tonight.

What I want to know is,
who the hell she's aiming at.

If I know anything about Ol' Master Jake,

that red-skinned lady is supposed
to be aiming at the dummies.

Why?

Why not? What's going on?

Billy, have you seen this?

-Seen what?
-There are little men up there.

They're shooting Roman candles
from the roof.

Veteran troops, Pilgrim.

Neo-realists.

And the grand old New Wave, sir.
They'll never give up.

What's all that about?

I thought you knew about the midgets.

What's there to know about midgets?

They broke into the wine cellar,

now they got their tiny little hands
on the fireworks.

-They are going to spoil the party.
-Jake's done that already.

Goddard has just set up a government
in exile. Just a minute.

-Will you let him tell his joke?
-I told you it wasn't much of a joke.

What the hell is that?

Artillery.

The heavy stuff.

Is the children and womenfolk safe?

Safe? Someone's shooting at me.

-They're in the stockade?
-Stockade?

-What?
-Stockade?

That's what I said.

Alright now, attention everybody.

Mr. Hannaford's motion picture
will continue projection

in the Magnolia Gardens
Drive-in movie theater,

which has been specially hired
for the occasion

at the corner of El Dorado and Geddes.

Just one block south of the freeway.

No tickets required.

Another Hannaford shot.

The drive in is just a short ways
from here on the route to Los Angeles.

So all you that miss the closing reels,
can now view this material

from the comfort of your own cars.

Thank you and goodnight.

If Bascalucci doesn't surrender now...

Bertolucci.

Slice him how you want to,

he's a-going to be one a-spicy meatball!

You see that little old lady over there,
the one with the blue tennis shoes?

-You see her?
-Where?

No, you mean "Who?"

Alright, who?

-It's Governor Reegan.
-Reagan.

-That's who, Reegan.
-Reagan.

-Reegan.
-Reagan.

Reegan, Reagan.

Approached by a video-freak
with an indecent suggestion,

just as he was sneaking
across the state line,

Ronnie's wig flipped.

Is he still governor, Governor?

He has decreed a state of emergency,

and thrown himself on the mercy
of Central Casting.

Wayne himself,
now a barefoot friar,

has been arrested

for denigrating all over a daughter
of the American Revolution.

Jessel is demanding equal time.
Here, catch.

Five of our best biographers
have gone over to Preminger.

-Antonion-ioni-o...
-What?

-They're dropping over Burbank.
-Will the owner of the '74 blue Impala

please come down and move it?

I wonder if our leader has any idea
who that belongs to?

-No, but he paid for it.
-What?

-It was supposed to be Dale's.
-Wow.

We weren't giving him much of a salary.

He'd have got that
when he finished the picture.

He didn't, so he doesn't.

Let's go.

Now, here's a late bulletin...

Marlon Brando, who,
by the way, folks, is not pregnant,

has gone underground
and is doing splendid work for all of us

under the name of Tokyo Rose.

Chin up, Brooksie.
They haven't got us yet.

Here's a lady tells us
we've got to stick together, Jake and I.

The farther you're apart,
the harder it will always be to hide.

What would we be hiding, lady?

How much you really hate each other.

You've got it slightly wrong.

Yes?

-Need your camera?
-I'm good.

We made it.
We're over on the left.

There's a spot over here.

Pull over, we can't fit in there.

Hot coffee? Over here.

Can't see another case.

Black coffee.

I hope Jake's one of your customers.

That's the idea.

Of course.

I wouldn't give much for the rest of them,
but he's lucky he's got you, Baron.

He'll get along without me.

What does that mean?

There's a time for all things
under the sun, Mr. Otterlake.

I'm getting much too old for my job.

If you can call it that.

Nonsense. What I wouldn't give
for somebody like you.

I'm not on the market.

You never were.

Even for a neutral observer,
there is a price.

Not worth it for you, though.

You're not quite tough enough for that.

Not yet.

But who knows, Mr. Otterlake,
perhaps you will be.

And where will that put me, Baron,
in your estimation?

Where do you want to be?

No, what you need, now and always

are the soldiers,

the good soldiers.

Men like Billy.

They followed Hannibal and Napoleon,

they really crossed the Alps.

They are the heroes in any story.

Is there a movie in it?

Excuse me.

I'm afraid we're getting out of sequence.
Someone must've given you the wrong reel.

Does it matter?

Maggie ought to be here,
keeping the reels in order.

Who?

She's the film editor.

I haven't seen her.

Well...

Well...

You're right, I suppose.

It doesn't matter at all.

"But this rough magic, he here abjures.

Take back that last, it doesn't fit."

What does "abjure" mean?

You went to Harvard.

-Give up.

Is that a suggestion?

"Abjure", he knows what it means?

I gave up in the seventh grade.

How about you? Never.

Not even now.

And I didn't learn my Shakespeare
at Harvard.

Mr. Otterfield here...

wanted to be an actor,
then he saw one of my films.

We all read the interview.

He is a rough magician, isn't he?

You can kiss my sweet ass.

What did I do wrong, Daddy?

"Our revels...

now are ended."

You bet your sweet cheeks.

I thought you had left.

We had to hire this drive-in
for the whole night.

Somebody had to make the arrangements
didn't they? It's on the way back to town.

Monday, I'll have an office at Universal.
Give me a ring.

-This station wagon.
-What about it?

It belongs to Jake.
Where shall I pick it up?

-At Universal?
-It goes back to the dealer.

Yes.

Like the sports car, I suppose.
The one Jake is driving.

That one's paid for.
That was going to be a present, remember?

For John Dale.
When he finished the picture.

Wait a minute.

What's with Billy?

He ran out of gumdrops.

Going, so soon, honey?

Yes.

Wasn't much fun for you, was it?
Goddamn midgets.

Friends of yours?

So sorry, Zarah.

I'm afraid our leader's a little pissed.

She doesn't like you, kid.
That's why she gave the party.

She figures I don't relate enough
to the younger generation.

Just through you. But I do, you know.

I relate all I need to relate.

Hey, beautiful.

Couldn't we fix it to see each other
just a little bit less seldom?

With an old friend...
It's quite enough to know he's there.

Like Gibraltar, the Eiffel Tower...

Durability.

It can be rather fragile.

Sometimes to keep that feeling,

we need to keep our distance.

The bad thing is to find out
that a friendship

was between a couple of other people.

Thanks, Mother.

Do you hear that?
"Rezo Maldito." Remember?

We found him together.

In Spain.

Where is he now?

Back there with our hostess, by the limo.

Valeska. Is she leaving?

Looks that way.

She'll have to answer
a few questions first.

Say goodnight for me to your actress.

She was pretty good in there
with that gun.

She wasn't shooting at the dummies.

The preferred target, I suppose,
would have been me.

Preferred by who, Mr. Hannaford?
You gave her the gun.

What does that mean?
What's it supposed to mean?

Don't worry?

Even if she doesn't know, she'll tell us.

Miss Valeska,
you made just one film with Mr. Hannaford.

Yes.

Glen Garvey was your leading man.

It is true, isn't it,
that during the shooting of that film,

Mr. Hannaford had an affair
with Garvey's wife?

Men are the subject of his films.

And whoever the man is,
naturally, he's got a girl, right?

And whoever she is,

somehow, finally, Hannaford seduces her.

He must. He has to possess her,

because it's the only way
that he can possess him.

We'll have to stop this.

Okay, cut it you guys.

Expensive vice, isn't it?

After he's had his actor's girl,
he throws her away.

Then he's thrown his actor away
and destroyed him in the process.

Maybe that's what you really want.

You son of a bitch,
you belong in a B-movie.

Pick on someone your own size,
motherfucker.

I'm alright. Would you let go of me?

Alright! Go home!

-They're still getting all this on film.
-Who gives a shit?

Where's your public, for Christ's sake.

Before any of you creeps
could put this stuff together,

we'll have our own movie.

A real movie.

-What happened to the critic lady?
-She'll live.

She'll live to write about it!

-Don't let him get you down, Brooksie.
-Do you?

Not yet.

Remember those Berbers
up in the Atlas?

They wouldn't let us point
a camera at them. They're certain
that it dries up something.

The old eye, you know,

behind the magic box.

Could be it's an evil eye, at that.
Medusa's.

Johnny?

So...

you came to my party after all.

Get in, I'll drive you.

Chicken?

Who knows,

maybe you can stare too hard at something;

drain out the virtue,
suck out the living juice.

You shoot the great places
and the pretty people.

All those girls and boys.

Shoot 'em dead.