At age 55, after two decades in exile,
Orson Welles returned to Hollywood
to start work on his comeback film,
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WIND.
Production began in 1970
and lasted, off and on,
through early 1976,
with editing continuing into the 1980s.
Mired in complex legal, financial,
and political turmoil,
he was not able to finish the picture.
Welles died in 1985,
leaving behind nearly 100 hours
of footage,
a workprint consisting of assemblies
and a few edited scenes,
annotated scripts, memos, thoughts,
and directives.
This is an attempt to honor
and complete his vision.
NETFLIX PRESENTS
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 likethe 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Anyway, this little historical document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 also the students, critics
and young directors
who happened to bring
16 and 8mm 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.
Jake, Brooksie's riding with you
if that's okay.
Mr. Hannaford, your meeting
with wardrobe is at 8:00 a.m.
Let's make it at 7:00.
Let's get the hell out of here.
- Happy birthday, Jake!
- Same scene, 9:00 o'clock Monday.
Zarah Valeska is the one 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.
- Look over here!
I'm independent.
Pister, from The Film Institute.
Everybody else not assigned transportation
can collect in the carpool.
Maggie, you can be chaperone.
Mostly the nudies are
driving their own cars.
I want to make sure they can get home.
- And the beards?
- A TV special for the BBC.
No, ma'am, CBC.
I'm doing a film
and 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, Miss Rich.
May I present Maggie Noonan,
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?
You want to ride out with the boss?
You can just catch him at the studio gate.
Mr. 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,
wont you?
So they tell me.
Once again!
The bus with the green stripes,
marked "Students,"
is for the students.
- We should ride with you.
- Let's go.
Can you wait for our second camera?
- You're going to make a...
- Hang on, wait for me.
Come on!
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 had 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 some 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 reformed...
- 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?
- Yeah, 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 knowthat these people
are still in business.
You mean that Mr. Hannaford's
investigating me?
We're still in business, huh?
What am I going to see,
everything he's shot up until now?
The first couple of reels, Max.
The last part's already out 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 out there.
Zarah's expecting you, Max.
So is Jake.
I was expecting him here.
Fine. Rolling. Hello, hello...
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 ought to start with a broader spectrum.
Don't you agree, Otterlake?
That's true, the interview
is for everybody, not just us.
But today, there's a special dispensation.
Mr. Hannaford, could you please slow down?
Otherwise, 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.
And if he doesn't come back,
how will you finish it?
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. Get next to...
- All right, bring it.
Good.
Right there on her.
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, Mr. Hannaford,
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 cliffhangers.
- 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 it was Hollywood.
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.
But 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 cineastes.
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.
It'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.
The way I hear it,
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 mantelpiece,
and they'd fight each other for the pot.
What ever happened to him?
Fryer?
I don't know, kid.
They come and they go.
John Dale, for instance...
Yes, the latest of all those actors
you've discovered.
Discovered?
Like you went pearling for them?
Squeezed your movie star
out of an oyster?
No editing really.
It's just the slates cut off.
Gumdrop?
Alright, men, 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.
Could you imagine
a relationship more all-consuming?
Between master and slave?
Dale was flopping around
like something you'd bring up in a net.
We did what we could.
Kept him on the yacht,
signed him on as a deckhand,
made a sailor of him, or tried to.
Sure, I rescued him.
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's gonna 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.
That is, 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?
The one she...
he thinks she was looking at.
SHOT MISSING
So...
he goes in and buys it for her.
May I see that, please?
Jake wrote that?
It's transcribed from tapes, I guess,
but it hasn't been typed.
"The hippies and the beatniks.
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 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?
- The 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.
Tell me, Jimmy...
Billy.
Okay, Jimmy.
There is going to be film
showing that
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 better ask Jake.
- I better read the script.
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 going to 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.
Just a little more basil.
Otherwise, it's good.
- He's right over there, see him?
- Yeah.
Nobody can do it like you,
Miss Valeska.
No. Nobody.
It's open season tonight, Mr. Otterlake.
We are in public domain.
Major studio is a bullshit word,
but that's the word.
- I made a picture that made money.
- That's what I had to do.
What about people who can't
make a picture that makes money?
They're not interested in making a picture
that makes money. That's my point.
He's a man who could take a mediocre idea
and do something
absolutely atrocious with it.
- But it's absurd.
- It's absurd, I thought it was groovy...
Inevitably, 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 ontology of its 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 to the movie?
I'm trying to...
I'd like to get John Wayne's audience
in to see my movie.
You've got an entire revolution going on
in this country on every level.
You think it won't be reflected in films?
It's not a real revolution.
Not the way you think it is.
There's still rich people,
poor people starving, and a middle class.
Why wouldn't they listen to me?
What assholes they were,
and what a dying dinosaur
they were involved in.
Why are you defending a corrupt system?
I'm not defending the system.
You don't see the point at all.
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.
Yes, indeedy, ma'am.
We'll be seeing you there tonight.
Not this character. You won't see him.
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 perfectly splendid imagination.
Don't try and be cute,
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.
Mr. Hannaford. Happy birthday!
And many more, sir.
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, aren't you?
- I'd like to ask you about that.
- Why?
- Come on, Otterlake.
Why do you think you have to be
as rude as he is?
As rude as you are. In print anyway...
- I liked your last picture.
- Yeah, sure.
I know that it was repetitive,
but... but...
But... Oh, shit.
- Such language.
- 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 really make that much?
How modest.
Did you know that when
his production company goes public,
that your friend stands to walk away with
forty million dollars?
Forty million dollars?
And she'll keep on writing
that I stole everything from you.
- I'm never going to 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 there.
That's what she wanted,
don't you think?
Okay, 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. Jesus.
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.
Right, Jack?
Every picture he directs,
he gets to shoot the animals personally.
With a gun.
They even pay him off 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, hunkies,
honkies, hebes, those kind of terms?
Fasci-tists? We 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, Brooksie?
I've deeded them all over to the cause.
Tapes from that book
you're doing, Otterlake?
From that book we're not doing.
You're the first big director
that ever tried
- to write about...
- First one to give up.
But I still know all the material.
You know, 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.
You know? 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 a little.
He writes the scripts.
So, Mr. Hannaford likes to say.
Please, don't pretend to be stupid.
You're supposed to be the brainy one
in this club, or clan or whatever...
It's a highly informal organization, lady.
The tape that 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 dialogue.
Gee, that's real nice, Jack,
coming from you.
- What I'd like to clarify...
- Yes?
- Is...?
- Yes?
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.
Yeah, the Apostle Paul packaged it.
By now, Jesus was dead.
You be quiet for 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 "anity" into Christ...
As long as I'm still twitching, Brooksie,
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,
and 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 they look.
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 right out here with Billy.
- Billy is supposed to bring Max David.
- When is he joining the party?
He isn't.
No?
- Any word from Texas?
- The oil money?
None 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 the 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 happened.
- 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, Jake.
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 Loews 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... 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.
Okay, let's get to the movie, shall we?
It's so nice
To feel the colors
All days when you are new
You close your eyes
And feel the foam of silence
Running home and cease to happen
Phase across the path of time
HEAD
You see them coming
That heaven left behind
I can see you
When you're laughing
Laughing when you're having fun
Your head is glowing
Overflowing with good times
Listen for the water droplets
Falling from the ledge
Of birds you heard from grapevine sounds
Of people that you need
VACAN OCCUPIED
I definitely think that dress
cost way too much money.
It's so nice
To feel the colors
All the days when you are new
You close your eyes
And feel the foam of silence
Listen for the water droplets
Falling from the ledge
Of birds you heard
From grapevine sounds
Of people that you need
Yes.
Well, 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 have snuck into the generator
with his little monkey wrench.
- What is this, another energy crisis?
- There's too many of these 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 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 until 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.
- You getting anything?
- Not with color.
- Black and white, maybe?
- Black and white?
Whistling in the dark, old man?
Well, kid, you whistle or you whimper.
How is it in your corner?
Who 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 a little 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,
that, my friend, gets us
into some very interesting country.
Okay, Zarah, no romance.
You meant with Mr. Hannaford, I suppose?
There wasn't any.
I do wish you could bring yourself
to open up,
just a little, on Jake.
No sex at all.
- 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
to move in for a closer shot.
- A zoom or a dolly?
- It doesn't make any difference.
- Of course it does.
- Okay.
Looks like a crutch, I guess.
- Go in on the left.
- Here, yeah.
- Run the cable?
- I'm good.
- More light here? Watch the boom.
- He's coming.
Tomorrow's Sunday, Mavis.
You'll be flying down with us to Mexico.
- What for?
- Montaa 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.
Gee, 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 out of here.
Come on, you guys, out of here!
- Hey, Mister.
- Get out of here!
- Respect Mr. Hannaford's privacy.
- Go on, go.
You too.
Hey, Billy,
why don't you leave that jukebox alone?
That thing 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 lifelike.
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-schedule 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 to the movie?
Yes, but first, we need
a little 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.
SHOT MISSING
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.
How is it that 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...
And this morning, he's got
his pants hung up to dry in the train.
Train.
Are we still rolling?
Good. 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?
But 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 didn't see one of those men
here at your party tonight.
Tonight is for the freakos
and the snoops, lady.
If you'll excuse us, please.
Did you know they had
dissolves in Shakespeare?
Ask Mr. Hannaford. He knows
everything in Shakespeare.
Shakespeare, that's
the Hannaford family curse.
He knows everything about the Hannafords,
which is my curse.
Everybody knows about old Granddad.
Junius the First, in the tinseled toga.
His limbs were always covered
in dirty pink tights.
IN THE CURSE OF THE CLAN
So as not to...
inflame the female members
of his audience.
Right, Skipper? That's where
the Shakespeare first comes from.
Mr. Hannaford, would you sit
in the ancestral throne, Mr. Hannaford?
Shall we give him 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.
And lace curtain.
Like Seneca,
he bled to death in the bathtub.
One of the few times he'd ever...
sat in one.
Now, old Junius Junior...
Yeah, he...
he really made it into high society.
Piss-elegant.
"Blazing the trail for the...
Kellys and the Kennedys."
Otterlake, the human tape recorder.
That'sme, Skipper. That's me.
Then...
you know about the chandelier.
I'm the authority.
The old Hollywood Hotel, wasn't it?
They found him one 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,
is 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's raised the dead.
There you are.
Yes. This gentleman...
kindly gave me...
Just stay there. Do you mind?
Mind?
No, not at all.
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!
Listen, kid.
Now you're getting your courage up.
Are you getting it up,
or are we fresh out of courage, kid?
Okay. 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 to the lights?
- I told them those spots were too much.
Where's the circuit breaker?
- What's a circuit breaker?
- I'm pulling on...
- Not again.
- Excuse me. I'm sorry.
- We are blacked out for good.
- Excuse me.
Just watch the birthrate
nine months from tonight.
What happened?
Did that jenny break down again?
Twice in one night.
- This is no accident, it's sabotage.
- Good heavens.
Who do you suspect? This cineaste?
He wouldn't know a cineaste
from a hole in the ground.
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 of it.
- 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 movies.
Your idea of him.
You know, the bullfights
and the big game,
the whole macho bit.
No, 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.
Yeah.
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,
and you ask me if I wouldn't
like to find out, then 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.
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 schoolteacher.
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.
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.
Jesus, 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 does 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?
I want to see him.
- I've got that teacher waiting...
- Get on out there.
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
schoolteachers?
Hey, can I please get myself
something to eat?
I wasn't just collecting schoolteachers.
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 of them bugging a cactus.
What about the oil guys?
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 of the movie.
- 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, Skipper?
Thanks, Brooksie.
- He's Max's golden-haired boy, isn't he?
- They gave Brooks his own company.
Come on. Tell us something we don't know.
I brought that schoolteacher.
Jake will see him if and when
he feels like it.
What about Max David?
That's who you were to bring out here,
right 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 the candy
got to do with it?
Could be it's softening your brain,
Uncle.
It's for the sugar. You know that.
Since I got off that stuff.
Well, 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 like that
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?
As it happens, 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 some 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.
- Yeah?
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.
- What's that, Billy?
- That's the latest message.
Roger.
I did something I shouldn't have done.
- But I saw him go into the library.
- It's groovier in here.
Billy?
What are you doing?
Otterlake.
For Christ's sake, Brooksie.
You know about Billy.
He's been on the program for nine years.
- Why did you want to 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?
Hey.
Remember when you first appeared
on that location of mine out in Iran?
I didn't even have fare back home.
Just that...
secondhand 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 those 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.
Jesus, all this 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 pop to Jake.
He'd feel a whole lot better off
afterwards, believe me.
The state requires you...?
Yes, every state does.
- So, in order to graduate by January...
- Here we are.
...I'd have to take one
correspondence course.
- Well.
- Mr. Hannaford...
You have two more credits to go before...
- Mr. Hannaford.
- Which is civics and economics.
- She won't pay that?
- She won't sign for it.
Mr. Hannaford?
Dr. Bradley Pierce Burroughs.
Pease.
- Pease?
- Bradley Pease 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 Franahan Boarding Academy
for Boys.
Clivedale.
- That's the name of the school.
- 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.
- 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 change of name?
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.
And I'm just his English teacher.
Certainly, he has every reason to be
grateful to you.
I'm sure that 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 schoolteachers
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.
And 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 is 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, Miss 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 wouldn't have been
very different if Dale had been her lover?
If they weren't lovers,
doesn't that sort of spoil the pattern?
- Miss Rich.
- She's on again.
You ask him.
- Why don't you get lost, buster?
- Tonight,
it's all on the record.
It's all hanging out.
That's how Zarah wants it.
- Here's 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 with Zimmie.
- 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 populationdropped
pretty quickly.
And in ten years,
about ninety 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 rather 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 its 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 flashback.
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,
so 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 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.
By God, there's reinforcements.
- Minnehaha.
- What?
Princess Laughing Water.
She's sure as hell
off the reservation tonight.
But what I want to know is,
who the hell she's aiming at.
If I know anything about Ole Massa Jake,
that red-skinned lady is supposed to be
aiming at the dummies.
But 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.
Godard 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 women folk 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 Getty.
Just one block south of the freeway.
No tickets required.
Another Hannaford shot?
The drive-in is just
a short way 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.
Well, if Bastolucci
doesn't surrender now...
Bertolucci.
Slice him how you want to,
he's-a going to be one 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 slipped.
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
just gone over to Preminger.
- Antononi-oni-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.
So he would have gotten that as a bonus
when he finished the picture.
He didn't, so he doesn't.
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, 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?
MAGNOLIA GARDENS
DRIVE-IN
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 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 have
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 then.
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 thoughtyou 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?
That's Old Manolito. 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 whom, 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, you know.
Okay, cut it, you guys.
Expensive vice, isn't it?
After he's had his actor's girl,
he throws her away.
And 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 gettingall this
on film, you know.
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 them dead.
Cut.
TRANSLATOR CREDI