Z: The Beginning of Everything (2015–2017): Season 1, Episode 7 - Where There Are Friends, There Are Riches - full transcript

Scott and Zelda go to Princeton for a reunion filled with emotion.


- Scott: Darling.
- Zelda: [groan]

Scott: Darling.

- Darling, it's time.
- Zelda: [groan]

My desk beckons.

Where are we?

About two feet above the floor.


Let's stay.
It's like a museum.

Zelda, we gotta get home.

- Man: They're finally awake.
- Harvey.

- So, this is your place.
- You broke my elevator.

As I said last night,
Coney Island
is a better choice

for novelty rides, Fitzgerald.

Remind me who you are?

Oh, Zelda, this is
Harvey Firestone, Jr.,

of the tire and rubber

Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald
of the judgmental Sayres.

Even at Princeton,
Scott was famous for
going for girls

far out of his league.

Well, that's what happens
when you're in

a league of your own.

So I'm told.

Voice of our generation,
right, Fitz?

It's always a pleasure, Harvey.

Come on, Zelda.

Happy birthday to you.

And try not to break
anything else
on your way out.


What's wrong with him?

Oh, he's rich.

They like to
set themselves apart.

Luddy has piles of money,
and he's not such a high hat.

Well, there's having money,

and then there's being rich.

Well, then, let's never be rich.

Oh, never, my darling.
I vow it.

Why'd we go in this entrance?

Oh, because change of pace.

And this door is fantastic.

Man: Uh, Mr. Fitzgerald.

- Oh.
- Do you have a moment?

- Mr. Fitzgerald.
- Mm.

- Moment of your time, sir.
- Yes.

We have something to discuss.

We'll keep it down.
It's a writing day today.

But tonight's a different story.

Let's see how fast
you can get it to 8.

- Mr. Fitzgerald, please.
- Go, go, go, go, go!

[water trickling]

♫ In the good old
summertime ♫

♫ In the good old
summertime ♫

♫ Walking down
the shady lane ♫

♫ With the baby mine ♫

♫ She'll hold your hand
and you'll hold hers ♫

♫ And that's
a very good sign ♫



I like being able to see you.

It helps when I'm struggling.

I'm sure what you're writing
is wonderful.

That makes one of us.

Do you hear a baby crying?

No. Maybe there's a cat.




Mrs. Fitzgerald's

her shopping and
last week's mail, sir.

Come in.

What happened to
the old Victrola?

It broke.

- You bought a new Victrola?
- Maybe.

Why, I just asked them
to get another one like
the old one.

- Zelda, we...
- We what?

Never mind.

One minute.

Thank you.

Oh, and...

There is a baby that
has been squawling
for an hour.

Please do something
to make it stop.

I don't hear a baby, sir.

You don't?

Well, it's off and on.
It... It's maddening.

Well, you could play
some music, sir.

"How long did it take you
to write your book?

"asked the sturdy,
broad-shouldered young man.

"To write it, three months.

"To conceive it..."

I certainly hope
that's not the new novel.

[sighs] It's a
fictionalized interview

to promote "Paradise."

Max wanted me to do it.

That's batty.

Well, it'll sell books.

You're already selling books.

It's leveled off.

You know, one doesn't
stay on top forever.




People really ought to be
taught about marriage.

Which of the responsibilities

they'll be expected to carry.

I had taken on Scott.

And I was just beginning to
understand what that meant.


Fuck, fuck, fuck!

This isn't like you, darlin'.

What if I'm empty already?

What if I've
run dry? I mean,

there are younger writers
that are nipping at my heels.

What if I can never
finish anything again?

What if I'm no better
than my father?

You are not your father.

And I will never let you fail.

Look at this.
Look at this.

Do washed up writers get letters

from the Modern Languages
department at Princeton?


It's from Professor Gauss.

He was
the one professor there
that was worth a damn.

He's invited me to speak.

"An acknowledgement
and celebration

"of your tremendous

The conquering hero returns.

Or the prodigal son.

I don't know, it's, uh...

The speech,
one more thing to write.

Ish kabibble.

All you have to do is talk about

how much Princeton means to you.

You do that
half the time anyway.

Oh, come on.

Come on.

You've been wantin' to
strut your stuff there

ever since the book came out.

Well, no one at Princeton

thought I would amount to much.

And here you are a success.

Well, maybe we could
invite the fellows.

- Bunny and Ludlow.
- Mm-hm.

And we could stay at cottage.

Yes, whatever that is.

The Eating Club.
I'm a member.

Oh, lovely.

And everyone that wrote me off,

Harvey and his ilk.

Everyone, period,

will see that you have become

the confident, talented,
important writer

that you always said you'd be.

And I can show off my, uh,

beautiful girl.

That's the spirit,
Mr. Fitzgerald.

Now, get yourself into that tub.

We can't go to tonight's parties

with you still smellin' like
last night's, now can we?


[elevator bell dings]

Mr. Fitzgerald.

- Oh. Let's go!
- Whoa, Man O' War.

Can't keep the boys waiting.

I must insist, sir,
that we set...

- Yes, yes.
- Mr. Fitzgerald, please.


Oh, my.

I thought we were taking
your car, Ludlow.

No. Harvey insisted.

She's a beauty, isn't she?

Not even on sale
to the public yet.

Perfect for your
grand entrance, Fitz.

Or rather, Harvey's.

Come on, Goofo.

Drive on, Firestone.


♫ Goin' back ♫

♫ Goin' back ♫

♫ 'Cause we're the saps
that keep goin' back ♫

♫ Goin' back to
Nassau Hall ♫



I can hardly breathe
with all the prestige
in the air.

There's nothing more glorious

than Princeton in the spring.

There's such a
magnificent laziness
about the place.

Which you contributed



Scott Fitzgerald has returned.


I have returned!

Princeton, take cover.


[indistinct chatter]

Ludlow, always good to see you.

Bunny, I hear you're
climbing the ladder

of a serious publication.
Good for you.

Ah, Mr. Fitzgerald.
Man of the hour.


Monty. It's good
to see you, old man.

Monty's chairman
of Cottage Club,

class of 70...

I'm told your book was
an overnight success.

And it's all about
this beloved institution.

Yes, he was, uh,
a young man
that was a student.

Well, kudos.

Princeton rarely offers
speaking engagements

to people who...
How shall I say politely?

Who left before graduating.

Well, I had malaria,
uh, you see.

Well, I see you've recovered.

Everyone says you're nothing
if not persistent.

And you, sweet girl, are...

Gloria Seymour,
Scott's mistress.

I'm much younger and lovelier

than the old bat
he keeps at home.

Yes, it's, uh...
it's an arrangement

that works for everyone.

You must excuse us, Monty,

but I'm struck with this
sudden and ferocious need
to copulate.

Come on, Scott.





This is it.

Where Amory Blaine
was conceived.


And you did it, Goofo.

You created him.

And you'll do it again.

I thought there, uh...
might be a display.

History. Fiction.





Oh, Gloria.


I, too, find myself stirred.

I'm sorry, I was just...

Ah, and who are you, young man?

What is your business here?

Lawrence Calderwood, sir.

Class of '22.

I'm so sorry to interrupt.

I needed to get a book.

Well, here is the only book
you'll ever need to read.

All of the smart young men
are mad over it.

I've, uh...
I've read it twice.

I'm a big fan of yours,
Mr. Fitzgerald.

I think your talk this afternoon

is gonna be the highlight
of my year.

Oh, Scott.

Can we keep him?

Lawrence, clear your schedule.

I'm in dire need of a protégé.

Meet downstairs, noon.

Do excuse us.

Mr. Fitzgerald and I
need to continue

our discussion about
the literary canon.


- [bell tolling]
- [chattering]

Zelda: It must get
awfully lonely around here

without any women.

Oh, there were women.

They just weren't
students. [chuckles]

So, let me guess, Lawrence.

Your father was
a Princeton man, too.

- I'm third generation.
- Mm-hm.

Both grandfathers.

And I take it
the money's not gonna
run out any time soon.

I suppose not.

See, this is the rub.

The truly rich
never have to worry about

it all getting away from them.

I don't know what
you're talkin' about,

You're the best selling
author of the year,

and no one's
taking that away from you.

Lawrence, tell us
what you like most
about Scott's book.

Well, uh...

- it captures youth.
- Mm-hm.

- And rebellion.
- Hm.

And it takes a hatchet
to everything else.

Unlike all the books
they make us read here.

Here, here.

I made myself
a summer reading list.

Mackenzie, Wells.

All the authors
Professor Bailey said
you borrowed from.

- Oh.
- [chuckling]

- Oh, I'm... I'm sorry.
I didn't mean that...
- No. No, no.

Lawrence, every first novel, uh,

- displays the author's
- Yes.

What's important is
his second book.

Which the author must make
entirely his own.

- Right, Scott?
- Absolutely.

Tell us about your
second book, Scott.

Tell us about
your first book, Bunny.

- [chuckles]
- Scott.

Let's go to the book store.

I want to see the display.

Give Bunny something
to fantasize about.

♫ Goin' back ♫

♫ Goin' back ♫

♫ Goin' back to Nassau Hall ♫

♫ Goin' back ♫

♫ Goin' back ♫

♫ To the best
old place of all ♫

None? How could that be?

We sold 100 last week.

You're supposed to order more.

Yes, how can he
sign your copies if
you don't have any?

President Hibben was upset

with the portrayal
of the university,

and doesn't want it
sold on campus.

So why have I come?

Just to be judged
and humiliated?

Professor Gauss invited you.

He believes in you.

Here. Here.
Sign this for Lawrence.

Another writer's book?

Mackenzie inspired you,
and you inspired Lawrence.

Isn't that right, Lawrence?


- You can't do that.
- No, no, no, no.

He has money.
He's buying it.

Ah, here.
You stole from
this one, too.

Yeah, why the hell not?

- Thank you, Bunny.
- You should thank Wells.

Send him a ham this Christmas.

Yes, Zelda.
Let's remember...


There. I have done
your patrons
a great service

by curating a collection
of fine literature.

Put it on his tab.

♫ With Princeton spirit
back of them ♫

♫ They're sure
to win the day ♫

♫ With cheers and song
we'll rally 'round ♫

♫ The cannon as of yore ♫

Ah, Professor Gauss.

At long last.
Good to see you again,
my boy.


Professor Gauss,
I'm Zelda, Scott's wife.

I'm so honored to meet you.

The pleasure is
all mine, my dear.

Congratulations on your
tremendous success with
the book.

Yes, I hear Hibben
doesn't like it.

The president isn't
a literary man, is he?

So, what can you expect.

Little to nothing.

Let's go inside.
We're ready for you.

Should we wait for
the rest of the department?

Oh, uh, no.
I believe we're all here.

There's a baseball game
this afternoon.

I wrote.

I wrote this novel.

But it's not a book that
any of you will ever assign
or value.

Or even understand.

No book of mine will ever be.

And all the writing I've done,

and will do, is in spite of you.

You teach with two goals:

To prop up literature
that is long dead,

and to curry favor with
the wealthiest students

just so that you can
indulge in the fantasy

that you belong to their world.

You don't.

He never really
fit in here, did he?

Not like he wanted to.

You're not a part of
anyone's success.

Most certainly not mine.

You are fools and eunuchs,

and you are pathetic,
tragic frauds.


Sit down!

I'm not finished.

Keaton, Bailey, Crenshaw,

- you will never breakfast
with the Firestones.
- Mr. Fitzgerald.

Or find yourselves
parting the fleshy thighs

- of the widow Campbell.
- We're so sorry.

- Oh, no. We are
absolutely not sorry.
- All right, Fitz.

You set them straight.
Time to move on.

- Zelda: Scott.
- Can you take him back
to cottage?

- Scott.
- Ludlow and I will try to
repair the damage here.

Bunny: He's under
tremendous pressure, sir.

He wants just so desperately
to please everyone.


- Goofo.
- Gloria.

You are marvelously brave.

Now we won, Zelda.

But there's more to be done.

- Scott.
- Lawrence.


You should go,
Mr. Fitzgerald,
it's time.

- You're one of us.
- Excuse me?

- You're one of us.
- Scott, please.

No, you can smile and say
how much you love literature.

But you'll end up
the same as Monty,

the same as Harvey.

You're just gonna
walk away from me?

You fucking coward!



Harvey. Harvey,

Harvey, Harvey, Harvey,

Harvey, Harvey, Harvey...

What the hell
are you doing in my car?

Harvey, Harvey...

- Oh.
- Harvey.

We're ready to go home.

- Please.
- No. Get out.

You're acting like idiots.

Tell me,

what have you done

besides ride your
father's coattails?

I went to war.


You have a spiffy car,

and you're never gonna
run out of money,

and thus, you believe that
artists are beneath you.

But I'm not beneath you,
Harvey tire and rubber.

Here's what you don't
understand, Fitzgerald.

You could write "Hamlet"
and you'd still be
a fucking peasant.

Shakespeare was a peasant,
you fucking imbecile.


Man: Tickets, please.

Tickets, please.

[trail whistle blows]

Tickets, please.

Thank you.

A cigarette.



[train whistle blows]

Everything that's
ever gone bad for me
at Princeton

has been entirely my fault.

Mr. Fitzgerald.

Mr. Fitzgerald.

- Yes?
- It's time to
pay the bill.

It's been a very bad day.

You can't possibly...

- I gave you a serious...
- I understand.

The bill will be paid,
of course,

but it's late, and we...

[indistinct dialog]

Manager: We have
certain expectations.

♫ ...and then
she holds yours ♫

♫ And that's
a very good sign ♫

♫ Tootsie-wootsie
in the summertime ♫


♫ She's your
tootsie-wootsie ♫

♫ In the summertime ♫

- Scott.
- Zelda!

Scott, come in here.


♫ She's your
tootsie-wootsie ♫

♫ In the summertime ♫

Zelda, stop!

Oh, it's marvelous.

♫ Through the shady lane ♫

Zelda, stop!

We... we can't
keep doin' this.

I love you, but...

We are out of money.



If I don't write,

then there is no money.

If there are no stories,
there is no...


And you,
you keep on spending and
spending and spending,

and it puts me under
too much pressure.


I'm tr...

I'm tryin'.


All right, Goofo.

Then let's go somewhere
you can write.



.srt Extracted and Resynced
by Dan4Jem, AD.MMXVII.I