Z: The Beginning of Everything (2015–2017): Season 1, Episode 2 - Episode #1.2 - full transcript
I'm Scott Fitzgerald.
May I?
Well, that depends.
On what?
On what you got
in that flask of yours.
Whiskey.
I'll get you some ginger ale.
I take it straight.
How do you feel about free love?
Free love?
Like Blake or Shelly's
concept of?
And Isadora Duncan.
- The dancer.
- She was an atheist.
She had two children
out of wedlock.
They both died.
It was quite tragic.
- I didn't know.
- Hmm.
May I?
No, you may not, old bean.
So what about this
Isadora Duncan?
Have you ever seen her dance?
No. But I like her style.
She's dark and wild as sin.
Huh. And you?
I'm the only girl
in town with style.
I guarantee you that.
Lord, it's so blazing hot.
I don't know how y'all can stand
to wear all that wool
and not want to strip down
and jump in his own creek.
Well, if you promise to join me.
Oh, you think I wouldn't?
Okay, then. Let's go.
You mean tonight?
It's almost midnight.
- So?
- Zelda,
Daddy's r'aring to go.
I got to scoot.
You can telephone me some time.
Oh, can I?
Judge Anthony Sayre's residence.
Don't take any guff
from the operator.
They don't look kindly
on soldiers phoning local girls.
I'm going to be a famous
writer some day.
You should know that.
We'll see.
Who's that, Zelda?
Just some boy.
Sayre residence.
Hello.
She's not home,
Lieutenant Fitzgerald.
Because I could tell
by the sound of your ring.
Sorry, Mr. Fitzgerald.
Zelda's not here right now.
No, Lieutenant Fitzgerald.
She's not back yet.
Yes. Yes, I'll let her
know you called.
Better call after 9
unless you want
to antagonize the judge.
I don't know what
to tell you. She's...
It's that Fitzgerald boy.
I can't.
Not right now.
No. She's not here.
Yes. I'll tell her.
Good Lord, Zelda,
if you're not going
to talk to this boy,
release him from your spell.
Spare us from all
the constant ringing.
I can't help it
if I'm never home.
He's going to give up.
No, he won't.
I sure as heck would.
There's a new picture
at the Strand.
Oh, no. I saw it three times.
We haven't been to
the arcade for a while.
Miss Sayre!
- Ha ha!
- What?
- Uh-oh.
- Oh, Lord.
Now don't get awful flushed.
I'm not.
Miss Sayre.
Why, Lieutenant Fitzgerald.
What in heaven's name
are you doing here?
I thought you'd
be off doing military
maneuvers or something.
What brings you to town?
I'm looking for you.
Seems you found me.
I imagine I have Tootsie
to thank for that.
Livye Hart, this is
Lieutenant Scott Fitzgerald.
How do you do?
Much better now that I've
found the elusive Miss Sayre.
I'm hardly elusive,
but life can be so
awfully distracting.
In fact, I'm surprised
you even have a moment
to chat with us,
given how busy you must be
with all that writing of yours.
Mr. Fitzgerald's going to be
a famous writer some day.
Really?
Well, I would be rewriting
my novel right now,
but I can't finish it
because I find myself
inordinately concerned
with your phone line,
Miss Sayre.
No matter how many
times I'd call,
somehow I can't
seem to find you in.
Sounds like the problem's
not the phone line.
What were you
calling about anyway?
I know that you're, uh,
quite sought after.
But I'm not going to be
stationed here forever,
and I need to get
to know you better.
Well, what are you
doing tonight?
I understand your people
are from up north,
Lieutenant Fitzgerald?
Yes, sir.
I hear it's mighty
cold up there.
Biscuits?
I will take the cold
over this heat
any day of the week
and twice on Sunday.
That's a fact. As soon
as this war's over,
I'm moving back to New York.
That's where my husband's from.
It gets cold up there, too,
but not nearly as cold
as Saint Paul.
So what do your
people do up there?
Fail, mostly.
I beg your pardon?
Daddy, this isn't a deposition.
I'm simply asking.
My father was a salesman.
He was never much good at it.
He had a talent
for disappointment
that made me even more
determined to succeed.
At what?
Scott's a writer, Daddy.
I told you that.
And writing is a real job?
- I write poetry.
- My point exactly.
And I write a column
for the newspaper.
I get a paycheck every week.
Last time I checked,
I was still supporting
all of you writers.
Well, I guess the only one
who does anything of value
around here is old Dick.
Now, baby, that's not nice.
How much money do you
make anyway, Daddy?
I'm sure Scott
would like to know
what a person gets paid
to do a real job.
I agree with Judge Sayre.
Writing is not a real job.
Now until you get paid for it.
But I plan on
getting paid a lot
for it some day.
As soon as Scribner's
publishes my first novel.
That's right.
Now, Mark Twain,
he was a millionaire.
And Theodore Dreiser,
they were voices
of their generations.
You are going to be
our next Mark Twain?
No, sir.
I'm going to be the next
F. Scott Fitzgerald.
Well, your father
didn't care for me.
Ah, he doesn't care much for
any boy that comes courting.
Most boys are too scared
to talk to old Dick.
And yet, knowing that,
you threw me
right in there anyway.
Well, after the professors
of Princeton,
your father is a whoop
and a holler. I like him.
If I were the judge,
I would lock you in a tower
- like a princess.
- He already has.
What do you think Montgomery is?
It's a good place to be from.
No buts about it.
Well, hello, there, Zelda.
Hey, John Sellers.
Hi, y'all.
This is Lieutenant
Scott Fitzgerald.
You got a cigarette
for me, John?
How long you in town
for, Lieutenant?
No telling.
I'm expecting my orders any day.
Scott's a writer.
That's what he does
when he's not defending
our country's honor.
One of those Yankee
highbrows, huh?
I went to college,
if that's what you mean.
John Sellers was just telling us
about the new car
his daddy just got him.
A Franklin Touring,
slick as all get-out.
Cost more than $3,000.
Well, whoop-Dee-Doo.
Isn't there anything
more interesting
to talk about than motorcars?
Lieutenant Fitzgerald's
going to think
we're all a bunch
of asinine clodhoppers.
The thought never
crossed my mind.
Come on. Let's scoot
before we get comfortable.
You have a lot of friends.
When I was 6, my mother threw
a birthday party for me.
Invited every child in school.
No one came.
- Not even one?
- Nope.
Not one.
I ate the entire chocolate cake
all by myself.
And several candles.
Oh, you are a heartless
woman, Zelda Sayre.
I'm sorry,
but that is the most
deliciously sad story
I've ever heard.
Well, don't be too sad.
I made up for it in prep school.
I was quite popular.
Voted Most Blond.
Come on.
Evening, Zelda.
Evening,
Mr. and Mrs. Weaver.
I went to school with her
granddaughter Delia.
Does everyone in town know you?
Pretty much.
Okay.
So tell me something
that I should know
about you, Zelda Sayre.
Hmm. I'm extremely talented
at talking my way
out of trouble.
Oh. Are you now?
And, uh, I've played hooky
from high school
nearly every day
and still managed to graduate
with a high B average.
- Hmm.
- And there's my lips.
They're quite famous.
Rumor has it I have the most
kissable mouth in town.
By the look of it,
I can't disagree.
That's not exactly
a virtue in this town.
Everybody knows
everybody else's business.
It's exhausting.
You want to know what I think?
I think that these people
that supposedly know you
don't know you at all.
Oh, really?
Yes.
I look at the bluebloods
trying to impress you
with their cars
and their legacies.
But they don't have
the faintest idea
of who you really are.
And you're different?
We move and breathe
in the same world, Zelda,
and it's not
Montgomery, Alabama,
or Saint Paul, Minnesota.
Is that why you
asked me to dance?
I saw you before anything
else in that room.
This is crazy nuts.
What are you doing?
I'm commemorating that night.
This place will forever be known
as the place we met.
It's historic.
There. Now no one
will forget us.
Why are your initials
so much bigger than mine,
Scott Fitzgerald?
Hey.
Here's one more.
Hand me another cookie.
Chocolate this time.
That Theda Bara
wears too much make-up.
Mm.
Did you see your Yankee
again last night?
He's not my Yankee, but yes.
We went swimming in the lake.
Just you two?
Of course, silly.
Your mama know?
You think I'd tell my mama?
I think John Sellers
is a little jealous.
Doesn't know why you're
spending so much time
with Lieutenant Fitzgerald.
I'll say
that John Sellers'
mooning about.
So what's he like?
Your Yankee.
He's so handsome,
and he seems smart and mature,
not like most of the boys
around here.
Well, he certainly
is full of himself.
He's a good kisser.
Zelda.
Scott, go to the side door.
Scott.
This is nuts.
What in the name of heaven
do you think you're doing?
I'm doing what
a fellow has to do
when he's trying to avoid
the swarm of suitors
panhandling on your veranda.
Well, go ahead and make
yourself comfortable,
why don't you?
I like it. It's colorful,
like its occupant.
Shh! Keep your voice down.
My daddy would have you
strung up and horsewhipped
if he found you up here.
It would be worth it.
Is this any good?
I don't know. You tell me.
"Boone said last night
"that I was the pinkest,
whitest person
"he ever laid eyes on,
"so I dropped off
to sleep in his lap
"under the dusky,
dreamy smell of...
dying moons and shadows."
What are you really doing here?
They just gave us our orders.
We're shipping off
to New Jersey next week
and then immediately
off to France.
No.
I... I was hoping we'd
have more time together.
So was I.
I'm playing chess with
Jim Mayfield later, Minnie.
We've got to move this along.
Jim's in bed by 9.
I'll go fetch her.
No, I'll go.
Zelda, it's dinnertime.
I like to cry.
All my ancestors are here.
Makes me feel a part
of something bigger.
Well, maybe this is
the spirit of your
great-grandmother.
I hope not. She was
a mean old buzzard.
It all seems so futile,
doesn't it?
We all end up here eventually.
Stop that.
There's nothing hopeless
in having to live.
Think of the lives
these people had,
the loves they shared.
How could any of it be in vain
when it's all so miraculous?
Oh, in the end, I guess
we're just humans,
drunk on the idea that
love can fix everything.
Because it can.
You are the finest, loveliest,
most glorious person
I've ever met.
I have something for you.
This is a chapter from my novel.
I wanted...
you to have something
to remember me by.
I could never forget you,
Scott Fitzgerald.
Baby's going to be fine.
I remember when she came back
from her first day
at Childan Elementary.
Said it was worse than prison.
And then she refused to go back
until I threatened
to get the switch.
Well, she's too old
for the switch now.
I know. I know it.
Well, Zelda's going to do
what she's going to do.
You sure you want to do this?
Yes.
♫ After you've gone ♫
♫ After you've gone away ♫
♫ Away ♫
♫ After you've gone ♫
♫ And left me crying ♫
♫ After you've gone ♫
♫ There's no denying ♫
♫ You'll feel blue ♫
♫ You'll feel sad ♫
♫ You'll miss the greatest
pal you've ever had ♫
♫ There'll come a time ♫
♫ Now don't forget it ♫
Zelda, narrating:
I don't suppose I really
knew him very well.
♫ ...time
when you regret it ♫
But I knew he smelled
like the damp grass
that grows near old moss.
♫ Think what you're doin' ♫
And that my cheek just fit
the depression in his shoulder.
♫ ...will drive me to ruin ♫
♫ After you've gone ♫
♫ After you've gone away ♫
Fitzgerald!
Johnson!
Moore!
Hey, hey! Fitzgerald!
- Fitzgerald!
- Here you go.
- Gilbert!
- Here.
Aberdeen!
Damn!
You're drunk.
Get out of here, boy.
Just take your hands off me!
I'm Francis Scott Key
Fitzgerald!
I'm going to be famous some day,
while you... you, sir, are still
going to be cracking bottles
in this stupid piss hole.
Take it up somewhere else.
For the life of me,
I don't know what you're
talking about, Daddy.
Scott Fitzgerald
is the best man I know.
He's intelligent and caring
and a gentleman.
And he's going
to be a famous writer.
A famous writer.
Yes, so he says.
What exactly has he written?
As a judge, I've written
more than he has.
Dear, he's young.
Zelda, you've only
known this young man
for a few months.
What do you really
know about him
besides what he's told you?
He knows who he is
and what he wants.
And he cares what I think
about everything.
And that's enough for me.
He's confident and fearless.
He's an Irish Yankee hellraiser
is what he is, Zelda.
Catholic, no doubt.
And way too fond of his liquor,
and he's about to be
shipped off to war
with no apparent
prospects afterwards...
if he comes back at all.
Well, guess what.
I'm not your baby anymore.
And it's not your
decision to make.
I'll do what I want.
You know what you are?
You're a narrow-minded
pallbearer
who wants to lock me up
in this morbid Southern
coffin of a town
for the rest of my life.
Well, I won't have it.
I'll be with him
if I want to be.
That boy isn't
who you think he is.
You'll be making
a terrible mistake.
Well, it won't
be the first time.
Hey, Fitzgerald!
Fitzgerald, move your ass up.
What's going on?
You slept through the briefing.
We got orders to be
at the train station
at 1400 hours.
Ah, shit.
Oh, Your play, Matilde.
Scott!
Scott.
How did you find me?
What's wrong?
My orders have changed.
- I'm moving out.
- When?
Today. Now.
Now?
I couldn't leave
without seeing you, Zelda.
Well, we have to speak.
I didn't get a chance
to talk to you about your book.
It doesn't matter.
Scribner's rejected it.
It's dead.
How could that be?
It's brilliant.
The language, the feeling.
They didn't seem to think so.
It doesn't matter.
Who cares is I'm going
to be a writer or not
if I'm going off to die?
None of it matters
except for you, Zelda.
You're everything.
I care if you're a writer.
You can't give up your dreams.
It's who you are.
The only thing that I know,
darling girl,
is without you
nothing's possible.
- Scott...
- Zelda, I need you.
Marry me.
You don't need me.
You don't need anybody.
You're as good a writer
as there is,
Scott Fitzgerald.
No, without you I'm nothing.
I'm less than nothing.
Is that really what you
want me to think?
Because that's not the man
I thought you were.
You're not a quitter.
Zelda, I am going off to war.
I may never see you again.
Please.
Please, please.
Marry me.
I can't.
Not like this.
Zelda!
Zelda.
Get on out of bed
and come down and see this.
What? What is it, Dad?
Armistice, dear.
The war's over.
Over?
Now we can all
get on with our lives.
Hurry up now. We're all
going to the parade.
.srt Extracted and Resynced
by Dan4Jem, AD.MMXVII.I
May I?
Well, that depends.
On what?
On what you got
in that flask of yours.
Whiskey.
I'll get you some ginger ale.
I take it straight.
How do you feel about free love?
Free love?
Like Blake or Shelly's
concept of?
And Isadora Duncan.
- The dancer.
- She was an atheist.
She had two children
out of wedlock.
They both died.
It was quite tragic.
- I didn't know.
- Hmm.
May I?
No, you may not, old bean.
So what about this
Isadora Duncan?
Have you ever seen her dance?
No. But I like her style.
She's dark and wild as sin.
Huh. And you?
I'm the only girl
in town with style.
I guarantee you that.
Lord, it's so blazing hot.
I don't know how y'all can stand
to wear all that wool
and not want to strip down
and jump in his own creek.
Well, if you promise to join me.
Oh, you think I wouldn't?
Okay, then. Let's go.
You mean tonight?
It's almost midnight.
- So?
- Zelda,
Daddy's r'aring to go.
I got to scoot.
You can telephone me some time.
Oh, can I?
Judge Anthony Sayre's residence.
Don't take any guff
from the operator.
They don't look kindly
on soldiers phoning local girls.
I'm going to be a famous
writer some day.
You should know that.
We'll see.
Who's that, Zelda?
Just some boy.
Sayre residence.
Hello.
She's not home,
Lieutenant Fitzgerald.
Because I could tell
by the sound of your ring.
Sorry, Mr. Fitzgerald.
Zelda's not here right now.
No, Lieutenant Fitzgerald.
She's not back yet.
Yes. Yes, I'll let her
know you called.
Better call after 9
unless you want
to antagonize the judge.
I don't know what
to tell you. She's...
It's that Fitzgerald boy.
I can't.
Not right now.
No. She's not here.
Yes. I'll tell her.
Good Lord, Zelda,
if you're not going
to talk to this boy,
release him from your spell.
Spare us from all
the constant ringing.
I can't help it
if I'm never home.
He's going to give up.
No, he won't.
I sure as heck would.
There's a new picture
at the Strand.
Oh, no. I saw it three times.
We haven't been to
the arcade for a while.
Miss Sayre!
- Ha ha!
- What?
- Uh-oh.
- Oh, Lord.
Now don't get awful flushed.
I'm not.
Miss Sayre.
Why, Lieutenant Fitzgerald.
What in heaven's name
are you doing here?
I thought you'd
be off doing military
maneuvers or something.
What brings you to town?
I'm looking for you.
Seems you found me.
I imagine I have Tootsie
to thank for that.
Livye Hart, this is
Lieutenant Scott Fitzgerald.
How do you do?
Much better now that I've
found the elusive Miss Sayre.
I'm hardly elusive,
but life can be so
awfully distracting.
In fact, I'm surprised
you even have a moment
to chat with us,
given how busy you must be
with all that writing of yours.
Mr. Fitzgerald's going to be
a famous writer some day.
Really?
Well, I would be rewriting
my novel right now,
but I can't finish it
because I find myself
inordinately concerned
with your phone line,
Miss Sayre.
No matter how many
times I'd call,
somehow I can't
seem to find you in.
Sounds like the problem's
not the phone line.
What were you
calling about anyway?
I know that you're, uh,
quite sought after.
But I'm not going to be
stationed here forever,
and I need to get
to know you better.
Well, what are you
doing tonight?
I understand your people
are from up north,
Lieutenant Fitzgerald?
Yes, sir.
I hear it's mighty
cold up there.
Biscuits?
I will take the cold
over this heat
any day of the week
and twice on Sunday.
That's a fact. As soon
as this war's over,
I'm moving back to New York.
That's where my husband's from.
It gets cold up there, too,
but not nearly as cold
as Saint Paul.
So what do your
people do up there?
Fail, mostly.
I beg your pardon?
Daddy, this isn't a deposition.
I'm simply asking.
My father was a salesman.
He was never much good at it.
He had a talent
for disappointment
that made me even more
determined to succeed.
At what?
Scott's a writer, Daddy.
I told you that.
And writing is a real job?
- I write poetry.
- My point exactly.
And I write a column
for the newspaper.
I get a paycheck every week.
Last time I checked,
I was still supporting
all of you writers.
Well, I guess the only one
who does anything of value
around here is old Dick.
Now, baby, that's not nice.
How much money do you
make anyway, Daddy?
I'm sure Scott
would like to know
what a person gets paid
to do a real job.
I agree with Judge Sayre.
Writing is not a real job.
Now until you get paid for it.
But I plan on
getting paid a lot
for it some day.
As soon as Scribner's
publishes my first novel.
That's right.
Now, Mark Twain,
he was a millionaire.
And Theodore Dreiser,
they were voices
of their generations.
You are going to be
our next Mark Twain?
No, sir.
I'm going to be the next
F. Scott Fitzgerald.
Well, your father
didn't care for me.
Ah, he doesn't care much for
any boy that comes courting.
Most boys are too scared
to talk to old Dick.
And yet, knowing that,
you threw me
right in there anyway.
Well, after the professors
of Princeton,
your father is a whoop
and a holler. I like him.
If I were the judge,
I would lock you in a tower
- like a princess.
- He already has.
What do you think Montgomery is?
It's a good place to be from.
No buts about it.
Well, hello, there, Zelda.
Hey, John Sellers.
Hi, y'all.
This is Lieutenant
Scott Fitzgerald.
You got a cigarette
for me, John?
How long you in town
for, Lieutenant?
No telling.
I'm expecting my orders any day.
Scott's a writer.
That's what he does
when he's not defending
our country's honor.
One of those Yankee
highbrows, huh?
I went to college,
if that's what you mean.
John Sellers was just telling us
about the new car
his daddy just got him.
A Franklin Touring,
slick as all get-out.
Cost more than $3,000.
Well, whoop-Dee-Doo.
Isn't there anything
more interesting
to talk about than motorcars?
Lieutenant Fitzgerald's
going to think
we're all a bunch
of asinine clodhoppers.
The thought never
crossed my mind.
Come on. Let's scoot
before we get comfortable.
You have a lot of friends.
When I was 6, my mother threw
a birthday party for me.
Invited every child in school.
No one came.
- Not even one?
- Nope.
Not one.
I ate the entire chocolate cake
all by myself.
And several candles.
Oh, you are a heartless
woman, Zelda Sayre.
I'm sorry,
but that is the most
deliciously sad story
I've ever heard.
Well, don't be too sad.
I made up for it in prep school.
I was quite popular.
Voted Most Blond.
Come on.
Evening, Zelda.
Evening,
Mr. and Mrs. Weaver.
I went to school with her
granddaughter Delia.
Does everyone in town know you?
Pretty much.
Okay.
So tell me something
that I should know
about you, Zelda Sayre.
Hmm. I'm extremely talented
at talking my way
out of trouble.
Oh. Are you now?
And, uh, I've played hooky
from high school
nearly every day
and still managed to graduate
with a high B average.
- Hmm.
- And there's my lips.
They're quite famous.
Rumor has it I have the most
kissable mouth in town.
By the look of it,
I can't disagree.
That's not exactly
a virtue in this town.
Everybody knows
everybody else's business.
It's exhausting.
You want to know what I think?
I think that these people
that supposedly know you
don't know you at all.
Oh, really?
Yes.
I look at the bluebloods
trying to impress you
with their cars
and their legacies.
But they don't have
the faintest idea
of who you really are.
And you're different?
We move and breathe
in the same world, Zelda,
and it's not
Montgomery, Alabama,
or Saint Paul, Minnesota.
Is that why you
asked me to dance?
I saw you before anything
else in that room.
This is crazy nuts.
What are you doing?
I'm commemorating that night.
This place will forever be known
as the place we met.
It's historic.
There. Now no one
will forget us.
Why are your initials
so much bigger than mine,
Scott Fitzgerald?
Hey.
Here's one more.
Hand me another cookie.
Chocolate this time.
That Theda Bara
wears too much make-up.
Mm.
Did you see your Yankee
again last night?
He's not my Yankee, but yes.
We went swimming in the lake.
Just you two?
Of course, silly.
Your mama know?
You think I'd tell my mama?
I think John Sellers
is a little jealous.
Doesn't know why you're
spending so much time
with Lieutenant Fitzgerald.
I'll say
that John Sellers'
mooning about.
So what's he like?
Your Yankee.
He's so handsome,
and he seems smart and mature,
not like most of the boys
around here.
Well, he certainly
is full of himself.
He's a good kisser.
Zelda.
Scott, go to the side door.
Scott.
This is nuts.
What in the name of heaven
do you think you're doing?
I'm doing what
a fellow has to do
when he's trying to avoid
the swarm of suitors
panhandling on your veranda.
Well, go ahead and make
yourself comfortable,
why don't you?
I like it. It's colorful,
like its occupant.
Shh! Keep your voice down.
My daddy would have you
strung up and horsewhipped
if he found you up here.
It would be worth it.
Is this any good?
I don't know. You tell me.
"Boone said last night
"that I was the pinkest,
whitest person
"he ever laid eyes on,
"so I dropped off
to sleep in his lap
"under the dusky,
dreamy smell of...
dying moons and shadows."
What are you really doing here?
They just gave us our orders.
We're shipping off
to New Jersey next week
and then immediately
off to France.
No.
I... I was hoping we'd
have more time together.
So was I.
I'm playing chess with
Jim Mayfield later, Minnie.
We've got to move this along.
Jim's in bed by 9.
I'll go fetch her.
No, I'll go.
Zelda, it's dinnertime.
I like to cry.
All my ancestors are here.
Makes me feel a part
of something bigger.
Well, maybe this is
the spirit of your
great-grandmother.
I hope not. She was
a mean old buzzard.
It all seems so futile,
doesn't it?
We all end up here eventually.
Stop that.
There's nothing hopeless
in having to live.
Think of the lives
these people had,
the loves they shared.
How could any of it be in vain
when it's all so miraculous?
Oh, in the end, I guess
we're just humans,
drunk on the idea that
love can fix everything.
Because it can.
You are the finest, loveliest,
most glorious person
I've ever met.
I have something for you.
This is a chapter from my novel.
I wanted...
you to have something
to remember me by.
I could never forget you,
Scott Fitzgerald.
Baby's going to be fine.
I remember when she came back
from her first day
at Childan Elementary.
Said it was worse than prison.
And then she refused to go back
until I threatened
to get the switch.
Well, she's too old
for the switch now.
I know. I know it.
Well, Zelda's going to do
what she's going to do.
You sure you want to do this?
Yes.
♫ After you've gone ♫
♫ After you've gone away ♫
♫ Away ♫
♫ After you've gone ♫
♫ And left me crying ♫
♫ After you've gone ♫
♫ There's no denying ♫
♫ You'll feel blue ♫
♫ You'll feel sad ♫
♫ You'll miss the greatest
pal you've ever had ♫
♫ There'll come a time ♫
♫ Now don't forget it ♫
Zelda, narrating:
I don't suppose I really
knew him very well.
♫ ...time
when you regret it ♫
But I knew he smelled
like the damp grass
that grows near old moss.
♫ Think what you're doin' ♫
And that my cheek just fit
the depression in his shoulder.
♫ ...will drive me to ruin ♫
♫ After you've gone ♫
♫ After you've gone away ♫
Fitzgerald!
Johnson!
Moore!
Hey, hey! Fitzgerald!
- Fitzgerald!
- Here you go.
- Gilbert!
- Here.
Aberdeen!
Damn!
You're drunk.
Get out of here, boy.
Just take your hands off me!
I'm Francis Scott Key
Fitzgerald!
I'm going to be famous some day,
while you... you, sir, are still
going to be cracking bottles
in this stupid piss hole.
Take it up somewhere else.
For the life of me,
I don't know what you're
talking about, Daddy.
Scott Fitzgerald
is the best man I know.
He's intelligent and caring
and a gentleman.
And he's going
to be a famous writer.
A famous writer.
Yes, so he says.
What exactly has he written?
As a judge, I've written
more than he has.
Dear, he's young.
Zelda, you've only
known this young man
for a few months.
What do you really
know about him
besides what he's told you?
He knows who he is
and what he wants.
And he cares what I think
about everything.
And that's enough for me.
He's confident and fearless.
He's an Irish Yankee hellraiser
is what he is, Zelda.
Catholic, no doubt.
And way too fond of his liquor,
and he's about to be
shipped off to war
with no apparent
prospects afterwards...
if he comes back at all.
Well, guess what.
I'm not your baby anymore.
And it's not your
decision to make.
I'll do what I want.
You know what you are?
You're a narrow-minded
pallbearer
who wants to lock me up
in this morbid Southern
coffin of a town
for the rest of my life.
Well, I won't have it.
I'll be with him
if I want to be.
That boy isn't
who you think he is.
You'll be making
a terrible mistake.
Well, it won't
be the first time.
Hey, Fitzgerald!
Fitzgerald, move your ass up.
What's going on?
You slept through the briefing.
We got orders to be
at the train station
at 1400 hours.
Ah, shit.
Oh, Your play, Matilde.
Scott!
Scott.
How did you find me?
What's wrong?
My orders have changed.
- I'm moving out.
- When?
Today. Now.
Now?
I couldn't leave
without seeing you, Zelda.
Well, we have to speak.
I didn't get a chance
to talk to you about your book.
It doesn't matter.
Scribner's rejected it.
It's dead.
How could that be?
It's brilliant.
The language, the feeling.
They didn't seem to think so.
It doesn't matter.
Who cares is I'm going
to be a writer or not
if I'm going off to die?
None of it matters
except for you, Zelda.
You're everything.
I care if you're a writer.
You can't give up your dreams.
It's who you are.
The only thing that I know,
darling girl,
is without you
nothing's possible.
- Scott...
- Zelda, I need you.
Marry me.
You don't need me.
You don't need anybody.
You're as good a writer
as there is,
Scott Fitzgerald.
No, without you I'm nothing.
I'm less than nothing.
Is that really what you
want me to think?
Because that's not the man
I thought you were.
You're not a quitter.
Zelda, I am going off to war.
I may never see you again.
Please.
Please, please.
Marry me.
I can't.
Not like this.
Zelda!
Zelda.
Get on out of bed
and come down and see this.
What? What is it, Dad?
Armistice, dear.
The war's over.
Over?
Now we can all
get on with our lives.
Hurry up now. We're all
going to the parade.
.srt Extracted and Resynced
by Dan4Jem, AD.MMXVII.I