Documentary Now! (2015–…): Season 2, Episode 7 - Mr. Runner Up: My Life as an Oscar Bridesmaid, Part 2 - full transcript
When last we left me...
Cue music.
As 1966 began, I was determined
to bring my studio,
Pinnacle Pictures,
an Academy Award.
First, I needed the material.
"She Cried for Justice"
was the novel of 1966.
It told the story
of a Jewish girl
who escapes Hungary
during the Holocaust
and comes to America.
Years later,
she sees her former Nazi guard
living under an assumed name
in New York City.
I knew from the moment
I read the first page
this story had Oscar
written all over it.
I called the author, Edna Bach,
and convinced her to meet.
She was a recluse
who was not interested
in dealing with Hollywood.
So I wined and dined her.
We sat at my favorite table
in the candlelit gardens
of the Chateau Marmont
and I laid on the Wallach charm.
"Edna, I simply must have the
rights to your memoir."
She was tough,
"This is a sacred story
"of my life, Mr. Wallach.
"Why would I ever trust
a Hollywood producer
to do it justice?"
"Because I promise
to treat your story"
with the utmost respect.
You will be involved
every step of the way.
"Your novel is beautiful.
Just like you."
"Oh, Jerry, I haven't had
a warm embrace
since the Taft Administration."
By the next morning,
she had agreed.
Then I got to work.
For the lead role
of the Jewish refugee,
Hannah Novak,
I wanted to find an actress
who was vulnerable,
yet resilient.
Someone who, when the audience
looked into her eyes,
they saw the horrors
of the Holocaust.
But she had to be hot.
Bridget Bailey
was the "It Girl" of 1967.
She drove men wa-wa-wa-wild.
She was like whipped cream
and whiskey.
Fluffy, and God damn dangerous.
She had just the right
va-va-voom
to play a Holocaust survivor.
And for the male lead,
the Gestapo officer,
I was blessed with
the best method actor
of his generation.
You better believe
I went with my main wop,
Enzo Entolini.
At first, Enzo wasn't up for it
so I called him up.
Enzo, wipe that spaghetti sauce
off your mouth,
"because I got
another project for you."
But Jerry, I too common,
I don't know nothing
about no Nazi.
Enzo, I own the property.
We can have our way
with this book
the way we did
with those girls from Reseda.
I like that memory.
I had the cast of my dreams,
and we were ready
to bring the novel to life.
Sometimes you throw
in the right ingredients,
and out of the oven
comes a perfect movie.
Hannah Novak escaped Nazi Poland
only to find her tormenter here.
This young, Jewish refugee
comes to this court
seeking justice.
You say my client
was a war criminal?
That man. That man was Gestapo.
And I know because
I am a Jewish refugee.
Can't you see...
that I love you?
Come here, ma.
Their chemistry was undeniable.
There was just one problem.
Our corporate owners
had no interest in owning
an art house studio.
Pinnacle Pictures
was independent for 40 years.
But in 1951,
it was bought as a tax shelter
by the CIA to funnel
South American money.
It was an open secret
in Hollywood.
Like how Kevin Costner
is three different people.
Officially,
United Papaya of Uruguay
controlled the studio.
They didn't want me futzing with
their slush funds
and assassinations
just to win an Oscar.
They wanted to dump
Pinnacle Pictures all together.
And sell off everything
I had built.
But I knew how
to appeal to them.
Through the magic of movies.
I called down to the sound stage
and told them
to get the cameras ready.
Hello, agents of the CIA.
Señores.
I'd like to tell you
a little bit about.
Pinnacle Pictures,
and what we have going on here,
and why we think
this movie studio isn't a front,
but something with a front
and a back and sides.
We have a lot of films
coming up on our slate
at Pinnacle Pictures.
One of which
is "Swashbuckler's Island,"
a children's movie.
Oh, and here's
one of the stars, now.
Puffin, the bird.
Puffin says he hopes
you like the film.
And that it comes out in June
of this year.
We're very proud of it.
Puffin's proud of it, too.
Another picture we're very,
uh, proud of
is "She Cried for Justice,"
and Oscar contender starring
Bridget Bailey
and Enzo Entolini.
Now I want to show you
one clip from it.
Just one. And you'll see
why Pinnacle Pictures
is the bet to make.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
It speaks for itself.
We need your money.
But I promise you,
your name will be
on an Academy Award.
Or if you don't want your name
on any documents,
that's fine, too.
Maybe that's how you guys work.
The next morning,
we had the money
in a black duffel bag, all cash.
Had some blood on it.
Very upsetting
for the woman at reception.
The movie opened
just in time for nominations.
And sure enough,
we were in the running
for Best Picture of 1967.
Two years of work,
assembling the finest cast,
changing most of
the plot of the novel,
banning Edna Bach from the set
and completely
changing the title
but we were here.
I knew we had the most
revolutionary film of the year.
We've seen excerpts
from the five films nominated
for Best Picture.
For the record, they are:
"Bonnie and Clyde,."
"Doctor Dolittle,."
"The Graduate,."
"In the Heat of the Night,"
and "Blondes, Blondes, Blondes,
and a Millionaire!"
Based on the novel,
"She Cried for Justice."
And now for the Best Picture.
May I have the envelope, please?
Thank you.
The winner is...
"In the Heat of the Night,"
Walter Mirisch.
Mary Poppins screwed me.
I was so distraught
at the after party,
I could barely speak.
The only highlight
of the evening
was that I discovered flan.
"Blondes, Blondes, Blondes,
and a Millionaire!"
was a victim of its time.
I'll be honest, I had no idea
there was all this,
"young people are angry
"and Black people
are this and that" going on.
I hung out with Enzo
and Playboy Bunnies
and wealthy crooners.
We talked about boats
most of the time.
But I vowed never again
to be behind the times.
I would dive into
the changing America.
At age 41,
I embraced the revolution.
I started smoking pot
and wearing leather vests.
And that was it.
So I... I think it was late '67.
It was just after Jerry had done
"She Cried for Justice."
At any rate, I... I came up
and I said to Jerry,
"A writer writes, a director
directs, an actor acts.
Tell me, just what is it
that you do?"
And he just laughed and said,
"Snakes..."
He called me Snakes
for no reason.
I don't get it.
"Snakes, I'm the guy
who keeps the money men hard
while making sure
you don't get."
I always liked that answer.
Far out.
As a new decade began,
I was more determined than ever
to bring home an Oscar
by any means necessary.
The 1970s saw the greatest
cinema boom in history.
"The Godfather,."
"Annie Hall,."
"Jaws," and 700 other movies
that don't hold up at all.
And the Oscars
were changing, too.
Oh, my God. The winners is
George C. Scott in Patton.
Accepting the coveted award
for Mr. George C. Scott
is the film's producer,
Mr. Frank McCarthy.
George C. Scott
boycotted the Oscars
and the son of a bitch
still won!
Meanwhile,
Pinnacle Pictures continued
to turn out cutting edge films.
I was determined
to keep up with the times
by telling the grittiest,
most progressive stories...
about a year after they were
told in different movies.
"French Connection" too intense?
How about
the heavily focus-grouped,
"Plan to Sell Dope"?
"Love Story" too sad?
Try "Going Steady,"
where no one dies at the end.
"The Exorcist" too scary?
How about "Detective Rabbi"?
He'll chase the Dybbuk
right out of your room.
The Academy loved
a political film.
But more importantly,
it loved a political protest
on Oscar night.
When Marlon Brando sent the
Land-O-Lakes Butter mascot
to refuse his Oscar,
I knew the bar had been set.
If he was gonna
bring one Native American,
I was gonna show up
with a whole tribe.
When a Pinnacle film
was nominated in 1975,
I arrived
with seven Brazilian men
from the indigenous
Yanomami Tribe.
If we won, I promised the fellas
they could rush the stage,
grab the award,
and say whatever the hell
about the rain forest.
Um, the nominees for the Best
Picture of the year are...
"Chinatown,"
a Robert Evans production,
Robert Evans producing.
"The Conversation,"
a Directors Company production,
Fred Roos, co-producer.
"The Godfather: Part II,"
A Coppola Company production,
Francis Ford Coppola, producer.
"Lenny,"
a Marvin Worth production,
Marvin Worth, producer.
And "Kenny,"
a Pinnacle Production
Jerry Wallach, producer.
And the winner is...
"Godfather: Part II."
- God damn it!
Francis Ford Coppola,
Gray Frederickson and Fred Roos.
I'd been making films
for almost ten years.
And not a single statue
graced my mantle.
It was at that low moment
that my indigenous friends
introduced me
to the cocaine leaf.
Ten times more potent
than the stepped-on powder
sold in L.A.
For the rest of the 70s,
I lived like a jacked-up koala.
♪ Ha ha, get some ♪
I felt great.
And a little violent all day.
I worked harder than I ever had,
turning out more and more
Oscar contenders.
♪ Get down ♪
In 1977, Oscar-winning
screenwriter Michael Walters
told me about a new
psycho-sexual drama
he was writing.
Walters was a mad genius,
writing only at night
and only typing with
the front ends of handguns.
I bought the script
sight-unseen.
And then I called
the one guy I knew
who could direct it.
The Roman Polanski...
of Italy.
My best friend, Enzo Entolini,
who had never directed
anything before.
Entolini needed money.
He'd invested every dime he had
in the sparking water business.
The Caps weren't shut
tight enough,
and the whole supply went fiat.
They worked night and night
in a special mirrored office
I had made for them.
We were determined to make
the coke-iest movie ever.
In an effort
to add to the whole,
"What the?" of this production,
we decided to cast
no-name actors
who can improvise dialogue.
And on top of that,
Enzo and Walters
insisted on shooting
on real locations
with no permits
and with no green lights
at crosswalks.
I put every dollar we had
behind the project.
The press was gunning for me.
We were now in the era when
overages and release dates
were the stuff of
the nightly news.
Still, I knew we had the goods.
A bondage-themed,
improvised movie
with borderline-unattractive
no-name actors.
The anticipation
for our masterpiece
kept growing and growing.
On May 25th, 1977,
"Fisting" opened worldwide...
the same day as "Star Wars."
Was "Fisting" a better movie?
You bet it was.
Can you rent it anywhere?
Not really.
One store has it.
The point is,
we lost a ton of dough
and once again,
I had to go beg for money
to keep Pinnacle running.
Hello, agents of the CIA.
Señores.
Uh, me and the fellas
would just like to apologize
for, uh, not getting you
the Oscar.
Oh, look, if it isn't Puffin.
From our newest film,
"Swashbuckler Island,"
from 12 years ago.
Puffin...
You're the only one
I trust, Puffin.
Rosie, Dale.
This is the the team
that's gonna put.
Pinnacle Pictures
back on the map.
This time, the film didn't work.
And I got the shock of my life.
After 13 years working to rig
an Oscar for Pinnacle Pictures,
I was fired.
Some men would see this
as a bottom.
I saw it as the top
of a new and weirder mountain.
I was going solo.
I ran my production company
out of my beautiful home,
Villa Casalati.
The future looked as good
as a blonde
with long, flat buttocks.
Little did I know,
what lay ahead of me
was 10 more years of losing.
The winner is...
"Chariots of Fire."
In '82, I lost
to "Chariots of Fire,"
which is, at best, a soundtrack
that your mother has in her car.
In 1988, I made $200 million
with "Robot Bachelor."
And the winner is...
"Rain Man,"
Mark Johnson, producer.
And lost to "Tootsie Counts
Cards in Vegas."
Throughout the 1980s and '90s,
I made millions
as I pivoted to win the gold.
Here's a period piece.
No dice?
All right, a biopic.
Not this year, huh?
How about
an underdog sports movie
with Meat Loaf as the coach?
Get out of your office?
Whatever you say, lady.
The breaking point
was in the mid-1990s,
when my Wyatt Earp movie,
"Mr. Old West"
went head to head
with "Tombstone"
and "Wyatt Earp."
None of us were nominated
and "Forrest Gump"
won Best Picture.
"Forrest Gump."
I'm sorry, but what the.
Is the message of that movie?
If you're dumb enough,
you can meet three presidents?
It was all too much.
My heart couldn't take it.
My doctor told me
I could be happy
with the millions
of dollars I had,
or I could chase Oscars and die.
My life was a mess.
I needed to get smart,
wisen up, kick the stupid
out of my brain
and rev the Corvette.
Clean and sober,
I dedicated my life
to doing good.
Here we go, everybody.
We're doing charity work.
With some donations from AFI
and every major studio,
I started Lights, Camera, Hope!,
the first charity
to give state of the art
cameras and boom mics
to L.A.'s most dangerous gangs.
Something magical
is happening down here
in God knows where,
South Los Angeles.
Hardened youths
are putting down their guns
and picking up
a different kinda weapon:
A movie camera.
It's Lights, Camera, Hope!
Lights, Camera, Hope! Helped me
get over my Oscar obsession.
All I wanted to do
was charity work.
So much so,
that I simultaneously
lobbied the Academy
to make a special award
for showbiz people
who do charity work.
The proudest moment of my life
was when the Jerry Wallach
Humanitarian Oscar
was presented
for the first time.
And now, presenting
the Jerry Wallach.
Humanitarian Award,
please welcome, Anne Hathaway.
Hello.
It is my honor
to present the first ever
Jerry Wallach
Humanitarian Award.
We at the Academy...
I was about to
receive an Oscar.
The bald boy from Brooklyn
who only wanted
to make people smile.
It was finally
Jerry Wallach's night.
To read the nominees
for the Jerry Wallach
Humanitarian Award.
Sidney Poitier,
for the Poitier Center
for Racial Harmony.
Paul Newman, for the
Newman's Own Foundation.
Hey, Paul.
Jerry Wallach,
producer of "Fisting."
And Enzo Entolini for his
Italian Don't Litter campaign.
And the Jerry Wallach
Oscar goes to,
of course, Enzo Entolini.
Leave it to Julie Andrews'
little minion
to me over.
Whoa!
Grazie mille. Grazie.
Was I mad at Enzo?
Not on your life.
Enzo saved my ass many times.
Enzo was the longest
relationship of my life.
Forget my money.
Forget my wives.
Forget my four sons.
Enzo was truly my best friend.
And I miss him
every God damn day.
Now I spend my days
awash in a cologne cold memory.
It stinks of regret
like a diaper in a hot car.
Each spray a jolt to the past.
So many missed opportunities.
So many awards
given to my lessers.
My career is in the past.
The door is closing.
The curtain is falling.
The waiter
is bringing the check.
The masseuse has stepped out
of the room
and reminded me
where my robe is.
I will never make
another movie again.
It's over.
Fin.
Next stop...
death.
Or...
Hold on. Hold on everybody,
I got an idea for a movie.
Racism.
We do a movie
about different people
of different races
not getting along.
Put a lot of movie stars in it.
Right? That's a thing.
Right? Am I right?
Cue music.
As 1966 began, I was determined
to bring my studio,
Pinnacle Pictures,
an Academy Award.
First, I needed the material.
"She Cried for Justice"
was the novel of 1966.
It told the story
of a Jewish girl
who escapes Hungary
during the Holocaust
and comes to America.
Years later,
she sees her former Nazi guard
living under an assumed name
in New York City.
I knew from the moment
I read the first page
this story had Oscar
written all over it.
I called the author, Edna Bach,
and convinced her to meet.
She was a recluse
who was not interested
in dealing with Hollywood.
So I wined and dined her.
We sat at my favorite table
in the candlelit gardens
of the Chateau Marmont
and I laid on the Wallach charm.
"Edna, I simply must have the
rights to your memoir."
She was tough,
"This is a sacred story
"of my life, Mr. Wallach.
"Why would I ever trust
a Hollywood producer
to do it justice?"
"Because I promise
to treat your story"
with the utmost respect.
You will be involved
every step of the way.
"Your novel is beautiful.
Just like you."
"Oh, Jerry, I haven't had
a warm embrace
since the Taft Administration."
By the next morning,
she had agreed.
Then I got to work.
For the lead role
of the Jewish refugee,
Hannah Novak,
I wanted to find an actress
who was vulnerable,
yet resilient.
Someone who, when the audience
looked into her eyes,
they saw the horrors
of the Holocaust.
But she had to be hot.
Bridget Bailey
was the "It Girl" of 1967.
She drove men wa-wa-wa-wild.
She was like whipped cream
and whiskey.
Fluffy, and God damn dangerous.
She had just the right
va-va-voom
to play a Holocaust survivor.
And for the male lead,
the Gestapo officer,
I was blessed with
the best method actor
of his generation.
You better believe
I went with my main wop,
Enzo Entolini.
At first, Enzo wasn't up for it
so I called him up.
Enzo, wipe that spaghetti sauce
off your mouth,
"because I got
another project for you."
But Jerry, I too common,
I don't know nothing
about no Nazi.
Enzo, I own the property.
We can have our way
with this book
the way we did
with those girls from Reseda.
I like that memory.
I had the cast of my dreams,
and we were ready
to bring the novel to life.
Sometimes you throw
in the right ingredients,
and out of the oven
comes a perfect movie.
Hannah Novak escaped Nazi Poland
only to find her tormenter here.
This young, Jewish refugee
comes to this court
seeking justice.
You say my client
was a war criminal?
That man. That man was Gestapo.
And I know because
I am a Jewish refugee.
Can't you see...
that I love you?
Come here, ma.
Their chemistry was undeniable.
There was just one problem.
Our corporate owners
had no interest in owning
an art house studio.
Pinnacle Pictures
was independent for 40 years.
But in 1951,
it was bought as a tax shelter
by the CIA to funnel
South American money.
It was an open secret
in Hollywood.
Like how Kevin Costner
is three different people.
Officially,
United Papaya of Uruguay
controlled the studio.
They didn't want me futzing with
their slush funds
and assassinations
just to win an Oscar.
They wanted to dump
Pinnacle Pictures all together.
And sell off everything
I had built.
But I knew how
to appeal to them.
Through the magic of movies.
I called down to the sound stage
and told them
to get the cameras ready.
Hello, agents of the CIA.
Señores.
I'd like to tell you
a little bit about.
Pinnacle Pictures,
and what we have going on here,
and why we think
this movie studio isn't a front,
but something with a front
and a back and sides.
We have a lot of films
coming up on our slate
at Pinnacle Pictures.
One of which
is "Swashbuckler's Island,"
a children's movie.
Oh, and here's
one of the stars, now.
Puffin, the bird.
Puffin says he hopes
you like the film.
And that it comes out in June
of this year.
We're very proud of it.
Puffin's proud of it, too.
Another picture we're very,
uh, proud of
is "She Cried for Justice,"
and Oscar contender starring
Bridget Bailey
and Enzo Entolini.
Now I want to show you
one clip from it.
Just one. And you'll see
why Pinnacle Pictures
is the bet to make.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
It speaks for itself.
We need your money.
But I promise you,
your name will be
on an Academy Award.
Or if you don't want your name
on any documents,
that's fine, too.
Maybe that's how you guys work.
The next morning,
we had the money
in a black duffel bag, all cash.
Had some blood on it.
Very upsetting
for the woman at reception.
The movie opened
just in time for nominations.
And sure enough,
we were in the running
for Best Picture of 1967.
Two years of work,
assembling the finest cast,
changing most of
the plot of the novel,
banning Edna Bach from the set
and completely
changing the title
but we were here.
I knew we had the most
revolutionary film of the year.
We've seen excerpts
from the five films nominated
for Best Picture.
For the record, they are:
"Bonnie and Clyde,."
"Doctor Dolittle,."
"The Graduate,."
"In the Heat of the Night,"
and "Blondes, Blondes, Blondes,
and a Millionaire!"
Based on the novel,
"She Cried for Justice."
And now for the Best Picture.
May I have the envelope, please?
Thank you.
The winner is...
"In the Heat of the Night,"
Walter Mirisch.
Mary Poppins screwed me.
I was so distraught
at the after party,
I could barely speak.
The only highlight
of the evening
was that I discovered flan.
"Blondes, Blondes, Blondes,
and a Millionaire!"
was a victim of its time.
I'll be honest, I had no idea
there was all this,
"young people are angry
"and Black people
are this and that" going on.
I hung out with Enzo
and Playboy Bunnies
and wealthy crooners.
We talked about boats
most of the time.
But I vowed never again
to be behind the times.
I would dive into
the changing America.
At age 41,
I embraced the revolution.
I started smoking pot
and wearing leather vests.
And that was it.
So I... I think it was late '67.
It was just after Jerry had done
"She Cried for Justice."
At any rate, I... I came up
and I said to Jerry,
"A writer writes, a director
directs, an actor acts.
Tell me, just what is it
that you do?"
And he just laughed and said,
"Snakes..."
He called me Snakes
for no reason.
I don't get it.
"Snakes, I'm the guy
who keeps the money men hard
while making sure
you don't get."
I always liked that answer.
Far out.
As a new decade began,
I was more determined than ever
to bring home an Oscar
by any means necessary.
The 1970s saw the greatest
cinema boom in history.
"The Godfather,."
"Annie Hall,."
"Jaws," and 700 other movies
that don't hold up at all.
And the Oscars
were changing, too.
Oh, my God. The winners is
George C. Scott in Patton.
Accepting the coveted award
for Mr. George C. Scott
is the film's producer,
Mr. Frank McCarthy.
George C. Scott
boycotted the Oscars
and the son of a bitch
still won!
Meanwhile,
Pinnacle Pictures continued
to turn out cutting edge films.
I was determined
to keep up with the times
by telling the grittiest,
most progressive stories...
about a year after they were
told in different movies.
"French Connection" too intense?
How about
the heavily focus-grouped,
"Plan to Sell Dope"?
"Love Story" too sad?
Try "Going Steady,"
where no one dies at the end.
"The Exorcist" too scary?
How about "Detective Rabbi"?
He'll chase the Dybbuk
right out of your room.
The Academy loved
a political film.
But more importantly,
it loved a political protest
on Oscar night.
When Marlon Brando sent the
Land-O-Lakes Butter mascot
to refuse his Oscar,
I knew the bar had been set.
If he was gonna
bring one Native American,
I was gonna show up
with a whole tribe.
When a Pinnacle film
was nominated in 1975,
I arrived
with seven Brazilian men
from the indigenous
Yanomami Tribe.
If we won, I promised the fellas
they could rush the stage,
grab the award,
and say whatever the hell
about the rain forest.
Um, the nominees for the Best
Picture of the year are...
"Chinatown,"
a Robert Evans production,
Robert Evans producing.
"The Conversation,"
a Directors Company production,
Fred Roos, co-producer.
"The Godfather: Part II,"
A Coppola Company production,
Francis Ford Coppola, producer.
"Lenny,"
a Marvin Worth production,
Marvin Worth, producer.
And "Kenny,"
a Pinnacle Production
Jerry Wallach, producer.
And the winner is...
"Godfather: Part II."
- God damn it!
Francis Ford Coppola,
Gray Frederickson and Fred Roos.
I'd been making films
for almost ten years.
And not a single statue
graced my mantle.
It was at that low moment
that my indigenous friends
introduced me
to the cocaine leaf.
Ten times more potent
than the stepped-on powder
sold in L.A.
For the rest of the 70s,
I lived like a jacked-up koala.
♪ Ha ha, get some ♪
I felt great.
And a little violent all day.
I worked harder than I ever had,
turning out more and more
Oscar contenders.
♪ Get down ♪
In 1977, Oscar-winning
screenwriter Michael Walters
told me about a new
psycho-sexual drama
he was writing.
Walters was a mad genius,
writing only at night
and only typing with
the front ends of handguns.
I bought the script
sight-unseen.
And then I called
the one guy I knew
who could direct it.
The Roman Polanski...
of Italy.
My best friend, Enzo Entolini,
who had never directed
anything before.
Entolini needed money.
He'd invested every dime he had
in the sparking water business.
The Caps weren't shut
tight enough,
and the whole supply went fiat.
They worked night and night
in a special mirrored office
I had made for them.
We were determined to make
the coke-iest movie ever.
In an effort
to add to the whole,
"What the?" of this production,
we decided to cast
no-name actors
who can improvise dialogue.
And on top of that,
Enzo and Walters
insisted on shooting
on real locations
with no permits
and with no green lights
at crosswalks.
I put every dollar we had
behind the project.
The press was gunning for me.
We were now in the era when
overages and release dates
were the stuff of
the nightly news.
Still, I knew we had the goods.
A bondage-themed,
improvised movie
with borderline-unattractive
no-name actors.
The anticipation
for our masterpiece
kept growing and growing.
On May 25th, 1977,
"Fisting" opened worldwide...
the same day as "Star Wars."
Was "Fisting" a better movie?
You bet it was.
Can you rent it anywhere?
Not really.
One store has it.
The point is,
we lost a ton of dough
and once again,
I had to go beg for money
to keep Pinnacle running.
Hello, agents of the CIA.
Señores.
Uh, me and the fellas
would just like to apologize
for, uh, not getting you
the Oscar.
Oh, look, if it isn't Puffin.
From our newest film,
"Swashbuckler Island,"
from 12 years ago.
Puffin...
You're the only one
I trust, Puffin.
Rosie, Dale.
This is the the team
that's gonna put.
Pinnacle Pictures
back on the map.
This time, the film didn't work.
And I got the shock of my life.
After 13 years working to rig
an Oscar for Pinnacle Pictures,
I was fired.
Some men would see this
as a bottom.
I saw it as the top
of a new and weirder mountain.
I was going solo.
I ran my production company
out of my beautiful home,
Villa Casalati.
The future looked as good
as a blonde
with long, flat buttocks.
Little did I know,
what lay ahead of me
was 10 more years of losing.
The winner is...
"Chariots of Fire."
In '82, I lost
to "Chariots of Fire,"
which is, at best, a soundtrack
that your mother has in her car.
In 1988, I made $200 million
with "Robot Bachelor."
And the winner is...
"Rain Man,"
Mark Johnson, producer.
And lost to "Tootsie Counts
Cards in Vegas."
Throughout the 1980s and '90s,
I made millions
as I pivoted to win the gold.
Here's a period piece.
No dice?
All right, a biopic.
Not this year, huh?
How about
an underdog sports movie
with Meat Loaf as the coach?
Get out of your office?
Whatever you say, lady.
The breaking point
was in the mid-1990s,
when my Wyatt Earp movie,
"Mr. Old West"
went head to head
with "Tombstone"
and "Wyatt Earp."
None of us were nominated
and "Forrest Gump"
won Best Picture.
"Forrest Gump."
I'm sorry, but what the.
Is the message of that movie?
If you're dumb enough,
you can meet three presidents?
It was all too much.
My heart couldn't take it.
My doctor told me
I could be happy
with the millions
of dollars I had,
or I could chase Oscars and die.
My life was a mess.
I needed to get smart,
wisen up, kick the stupid
out of my brain
and rev the Corvette.
Clean and sober,
I dedicated my life
to doing good.
Here we go, everybody.
We're doing charity work.
With some donations from AFI
and every major studio,
I started Lights, Camera, Hope!,
the first charity
to give state of the art
cameras and boom mics
to L.A.'s most dangerous gangs.
Something magical
is happening down here
in God knows where,
South Los Angeles.
Hardened youths
are putting down their guns
and picking up
a different kinda weapon:
A movie camera.
It's Lights, Camera, Hope!
Lights, Camera, Hope! Helped me
get over my Oscar obsession.
All I wanted to do
was charity work.
So much so,
that I simultaneously
lobbied the Academy
to make a special award
for showbiz people
who do charity work.
The proudest moment of my life
was when the Jerry Wallach
Humanitarian Oscar
was presented
for the first time.
And now, presenting
the Jerry Wallach.
Humanitarian Award,
please welcome, Anne Hathaway.
Hello.
It is my honor
to present the first ever
Jerry Wallach
Humanitarian Award.
We at the Academy...
I was about to
receive an Oscar.
The bald boy from Brooklyn
who only wanted
to make people smile.
It was finally
Jerry Wallach's night.
To read the nominees
for the Jerry Wallach
Humanitarian Award.
Sidney Poitier,
for the Poitier Center
for Racial Harmony.
Paul Newman, for the
Newman's Own Foundation.
Hey, Paul.
Jerry Wallach,
producer of "Fisting."
And Enzo Entolini for his
Italian Don't Litter campaign.
And the Jerry Wallach
Oscar goes to,
of course, Enzo Entolini.
Leave it to Julie Andrews'
little minion
to me over.
Whoa!
Grazie mille. Grazie.
Was I mad at Enzo?
Not on your life.
Enzo saved my ass many times.
Enzo was the longest
relationship of my life.
Forget my money.
Forget my wives.
Forget my four sons.
Enzo was truly my best friend.
And I miss him
every God damn day.
Now I spend my days
awash in a cologne cold memory.
It stinks of regret
like a diaper in a hot car.
Each spray a jolt to the past.
So many missed opportunities.
So many awards
given to my lessers.
My career is in the past.
The door is closing.
The curtain is falling.
The waiter
is bringing the check.
The masseuse has stepped out
of the room
and reminded me
where my robe is.
I will never make
another movie again.
It's over.
Fin.
Next stop...
death.
Or...
Hold on. Hold on everybody,
I got an idea for a movie.
Racism.
We do a movie
about different people
of different races
not getting along.
Put a lot of movie stars in it.
Right? That's a thing.
Right? Am I right?