The Brothers Bloom Script - Dialogue Transcript

The Brothers Bloom Script

  

  
As far as con man stories go,
I think I've heard them all.

  
Of grifters, ropers, faro-fixers,
tales drawn long and tall.

  
But if one bears a bookmark
in the confidence man's tome,

  
it would be that of Penelope,
and of the brothers Bloom.

  
At 10 and 13,
Bloom and Stephen,

  
the younger and the old,

  
had been through
several foster families.

  
No!

  
Thirty-eight, all told.

  
Mischief moved them on in life,

  
and moving kept them close.

  
For Bloom had Stephen,
and Stephen, Bloom,

  
and both had more than most.

  
Another home,
another Main Street.

  
Stephen looked around
and summed the burg up thusly.

  
Bloom, we've hit a one-hat town.

  
One theater. One car wash.
One cafe. One park. One cat,

  
which, through some mishap,
had one leg.

  
Sweet Jesus. Look at that.

  
One public school,

  
one tight-knit group
of local well-off kids.

  
Their pocket-change
bought rocket pops.

  
The brothers...

  
Pixy Stix.

  
They were the they, all well-loved,
rooted, happy as you please,

  
always there in every town.

  
Playground bourgeoisies.

  
Could he simply...

  
Talk to her!

  
Just drop his fears and go?

  
Leave his brother in the woods,
and join the children?

  
No.

  
So, in the root of
Stephen's psyche, something now began.

  
A seed of grand epiphany.
A hook. A tale.

  
- A plan.
- A fiction,

  
both for profit
and to ease his brother's heart.

  
A simple con in 15 steps.

  
And this is where we start.

  
And then, as if a curtain
had been pulled back from the sky,

  
some barrier within
the younger Bloom was broken.

  
Hi.

  
So Bloom performed his role
in Stephen's story to a T.

  
And being who he wasn't,
could be as he wished to be.

  
So, the tale. You tell them...

  
There's a hermit in the woods.

  
A one-eyed, steel-toothed vagabond.

  
- With blood-red eyes?
- That's good.

  
He stopped you,
coming home from school.

  
And told me of a cave.

  
What kind of cave?

  
A cave of wonder.

  
Shut up, Dave.

  
At noon on every Sunday,
there appears a ball of light,

  
which flutters, like a butterfly.

  
- A will~o'~wisp?
- That's right.

  
It guides you...

  
If you can keep up...

  
to where the treasures lay.

  
- So where's this cave?
- Yeah, where?

  
The hermit didn't say.

  
He got this greedy, glinting look,
the filthy red-eyed leech,

  
and said he'd tell for 30 bucks.

  
Well, that's just 2 bucks each!

  
And so that Sunday,
straight from church,

  
into the woods Bloom led.

  
They stopped.
Their hearts leapt. There it was.

  
Just like the hermit said.

  
For just one moment,
Bloom forgot himself and ran too fast.

  
He'd catch the light
and find the treasure,

  
but the moment passed.

  
They didn't catch the will~o'~wisp,
but didn't really care.

  
It seems to me that in the end,
the perfect con

  
is where each one involved
gets just the thing they wanted.

  
Yeah, I guess so.

  
Our fledgling thieves
were satisfied.

  
The children's parents,
less so.

  
A bitter ending? Maybe.

  
But there's sweetness
in the mix.

  
The brothers Bloom
had found their calling,

  
as shown in number six.

  
"Cut" meant to negotiate.

  
"Percent," percentage deal.

  
O'Henry's was the town's
one dry-clean shop.

  
Pleasure doing business with you.

  
So how's it feel?

  
In truth, young Bloom won't know
for 20 years just how he felt.

  
And so, we'll skip
ahead now in our story.

  
Let 'em melt.

  
He gets the scarab,

  
you get the money,
and I get the girl.

  
So in the end,
everyone gets everything he wants.

  
Victor!

  
Charleston, what have you done?
Oh, my God.

  
Oh, God, he's dead!

  
He was the only one who knew
where our money was buried,

  
and you shot him!
Charleston, you dunce!

  
The man named Charleston
that you met

  
four months and 1,000 years ago

  
in a hotel bar in Jodhpur is dead.

  
If we see each other again,
it'll be as strangers.

  
As for the money,

  
let it rot.

  
Wow!

  
"Wow" is the word
you're looking for! Wow!

  
You're a genius, Stephen.

  
We're genius, Bloom.

  
Now, in defense of that shit-eating
grin on my older brother's face,

  
what he just pulled off
was pretty amazing.

  
He hinged the entire con
on this question.

  
Would Charleston,
our spineless mark,

  
would he actually
pull that trigger?

  
Maybe.

  
But Stephen wanted better odds.

  
He positioned me
in the same spot where, 6 years ago,

  
Charleston's wife had stood
and told him she was leaving.

  
He picked my suit
to match her outfit.

  
He even phonetically matched
my final words to hers.

  
This is the end, Charleston.

  
You've always been such a dunce.

  
So in the end,
everyone gets everything he wants.

  
Tastes like tinfoil.

  
So does real blood.

  
Buy you a drink?

  
Nine months and 1,000 years ago.

  
He was quoting from Kipling.
He stole that from Kipling.

  
No, he didn't.

  
So where's this wrap party?

  
Make way, make room
for the brothers Bloom!

  
Yeah, yeah!

  
All right, here we go. Gather round,
friends and accomplices.

  
Think of a card. You got it?

  
No.

  
If I do it enough,
someday it's gonna work on someone.

  
And then it'll be
the best damn card trick in the world.

  
It's true you never work
with the same crew twice?

  
Well, shit. Except for the...

  
Bang Bang?

  
You know, I'm pretty big into anime.

  
She's our fifth Beatle.

  
She knows the ins and outs.

  
I don't think she speaks
more than three words of English.

  
Campari.

  
So, she's with you
and Bloom till the end?

  
Till the wind changes.

  
Where is Bloom?

  
There you are.

  
You hiding?

  
Yep.

  
I've been learning.

  
Stephen likes to talk about you.

  
He tell you the cave story?

  
Is it true?

  
What else did he tell you?

  
You two kicked around
until your early teens...

  
winding up in the grotty
outskirts of St. Petersburg,

  
where you learned the big con...

  
from an old-school grifter
named the Diamond Dog.

  
Is that true?

  
- That was his name?
- Yep.

  
And he was your mentor.

  
But I get the sense it ended badly.

  
Stephen took his eye out
with an antique rapier.

  
Why did he do that?

  
The brothers Bloom lit out on their own

  
to make their fortune
as gentleman thieves.

  
Sounds romantic.

  
It does.

  
You don't understand
what my brother does.

  
He writes his cons
the way dead Russians write novels,

  
with thematic arcs
and embedded symbolism and shit.

  
And he wrote me as
the vulnerable antihero.

  
And that's why you think
you wanna kiss me.

  
It's a con.

  
I'm going nuts.

  
There's the big two.

  
We missed the sunrise.

  
That would have been nice.

  
Is this the bathroom?

  
No. This is camels.

  
Hold on, I must make piss.

  
At least you're honest.
All right, let's do this.

  
Let's just get it done.
So, first you say,

  
"I'm quitting, Stephen.
I'm out". Then I say...

  
- Do we have to go through this again?
- "Go through this again?"

  
And then you make a show
of putting on your jacket,

  
and you say, " No,
I mean it this time, Stephen.

  
"This time, I'm really out".

  
And then you say,
"Let's have a drink,"

  
"and in the morning, Bloom,
you'll have come to your senses".

  
It's a major design
flaw in fake blood, by the way.

  
- "And we'll be moving on".
- Real blood turns brown...

  
- Listen to me, Stephen. I...
- after half an hour.

  
This Scotch cost more
than your suit.

  
Listen to me.

  
The flask stopped a bullet
in Normandy.

  
Listen!

  
Holy shit.

  
That's my new favorite camel.

  
I hate you. Okay?

  
Oh, God, I can't do this anymore.

  
I can't wake up next to another person
who thinks they know me.

  
And I'm 35 years old. I don't...

  
I'm useless. I'm crippled.

  
I don't...

  
I've only ever lived life
through these roles that aren't me,

  
that are written for me by you.

  
Tell me what you want.

  
Why? So you can write me a role
in a story where I get it?

  
You're not listening to me!

  
I want a real thing.

  
I want a...

  
I just... I want... I... want...

  
- You want an unwritten life.
- I want an unwritten life.

  
I'm going away,

  
somewhere where you
and Bang Bang...

  
won't even be able
to track me down.

  
So don't try it, okay?
No more stories.

  
I love you. Goodbye.

  
How'd you find me?

  
Bang Bang.

  
How'd she find me?

  
How you been?

  
Great.

  
I've been doing a lot of thinking
the past three months,

  
and I've come to the conclusion
that you don't want out.

  
You think you do, but you don't.

  
Hey, come here.
I wanna show you something.

  
I'm quit, Stephen.

  
Where are we going?

  
New Jersey.

  
Let me grab my coat.

  
So, where are we?

  
The largest private residence
on the Eastern Seaboard,

  
home of our final mark.

  
Daddy was an oil tycoon,
a Hearst type,

  
built a Xanadu to match,
then died hunting quail.

  
Mom followed
into the hereafter two years ago,

  
after 10 years of fighting a disease
that I can't even pronounce.

  
Thank you. Leaving our sucker
all alone on this ludicrous estate...

  
with an insane amount
of very liquid assets.

  
What the hell is that? What are we,
near an airport? What is that?

  
Duck.

  
What the hell?

  
Get the car.

  
- Bloom.
- No women. One rule.

  
You know we don't do women.

  
And it's not
a morality thing or a thing.

  
It's... Whatever it is,
it doesn't matter what it is,

  
it's just our rule. So what are we...
Is this a '78 Caddy?

  
Controversial choice.

  
So no, is what I'm saying, alright?
I'm quits, anyway.

  
I'll be in Montenegro, drinking.

  
Ah, Penelope Stamp, 33.

  
Lived at home her whole life.

  
An eccentric shut-in rich bitch?
You're not helping your case.

  
She's bored.
She's a little seed in the snow.

  
We're gonna put her on a
grand adventure, bring her to life.

  
She needs sprouting.

  
So this is the big plan, huh?

  
Lure me back in with some beautiful,
intriguing, elusive girl.

  
Seriously, Stephen. Amateur night.

  
I'm not saying yes,
but what's the con?

  
It's actually pretty simple.
We're brothers, antiquities dealers.

  
We're traveling the world
by steamer ship.

  
Bang! Give her the old
cackle-bladder and the brush-off.

  
And that's how it ends in Mexico,

  
burst of violence,
then a moment of truth on the beach.

  
What do you think?

  
You got something up your sleeve.

  
This is about me, right? Somehow.

  
Now, this might not be
something that you know,

  
but they've all been about you.

  
Maybe that's why
they've none been perfect,

  
because I've never been able
to give you what you really wanted.

  
This isn't gonna give me
what I want.

  
This will be the last one.

  
You'll let me go.

  
I'll never ask you
to do another con again.

  
Make it a Schwinn.

  
There are less painful ways
to cut into a mark, you know.

  
Score to beat is 7.9.

  
Keep your head in the game.
The Japanese judge is very tough.

  
This is a banana seat, man!

  
Don't give me that blank look,

  
you know what a goddamn
banana seat is.

  
Oh!

  
Shit.

  
Shit!

  
There's actually
a knack to this.

  
If you're trying to fast track
into a mark's sympathies,

  
there's nothing
quite as effective

  
as having your
first conversation...

  
be from a hospital bed
they put you in.

  
What? Oh, come on.

  
I actually think this is kind of
a great thing, and I'll tell you why.

  
Dostoevsky was an epileptic.

  
His seizures were preceded
by an enlightened euphoria,

  
a sort of opening
of his spiritual eye.

  
I think the fact that she saw your
face the instant before a seizure...

  
is a pretty goddamn good foot
to start things off on, right?

  
The next step,

  
is to figure out a way to insinuate
yourself into their personal life.

  
I think they took my car.
Could you drive me home?

  
- Yeah.
- Okay.

  
I'm gonna...

  
Step three, engagement.

  
Find a connection with your mark
through conversation.

  
Get invited in for coffee.
Tell them the full tale.

  
Set your hook.

  
...didn't really have anyone
except each other growing up,

  
and our father was
in the antique business.

  
He had a shop in Charleston.

  
We realized one day
we saw the dealers...

  
who were finding
and selling us the antiques...

  
coming from exotic countries,

  
around the world, and...

  
The air would, like,

  
before a rain, you know,
the ions would line up,

  
and you could just

  
smell midnight trains to Paris

  
and steamer ships
and Calcutta bazaars, and...

  
It could...
Excuse me, I'm sorry, uh...

  
- Are you okay?
- Yeah!

  
- Sorry.
- Okay. All right.

  
I'm really bad
at talking to people.

  
That's okay.

  
You want me to go?

  
No. No,
I really want to talk to you.

  
So...

  
What kind of stuff do you do?

  
Nothing. Maybe you should go.

  
All right, I'll just finish my...

  
I collect hobbies.

  
I see someone doing
something I like,

  
and I get books
and I learn how to do it.

  
Hmm.

  
Anything interesting?

  
Not really.

  
Like he had a disease
He robbed another and another and a...

  
I really am not comfortable...

  
- with this at all.
- I throw my right chainsaw...

  
- This is a running chainsaw.
- into the air and I will catch.

  
You just learn this stuff here
by yourself?

  
Kind of sad?

  
No.

  
So, how do you plan
to use all these skills?

  
I don't know. I'm not a planner.
I just do stuff.

  
Like, look at this watermelon.
It's a pinhole camera.

  
You can make a pinhole camera
out of anything hollow and dark.

  
It's gotta warp
the image though, right?

  
Yeah, yeah it does.

  
I mean,
that's what's good about it.

  
I mean,
you could point this baby...

  
at the most menial,
everyday little thing,

  
like the fabric, or your...

  
Your face, or anything,

  
and depending on
how the pinhole eats the light,

  
it's gonna be warped and peculiar
and imperfect and odd,

  
and it's not gonna be reproduction,

  
it's storytelling.

  
It's a lie that tells the truth.

  
I don't know about truths.

  
A photograph is a secret
about a secret.

  
The more it tells you,
less you know.

  
What's changed between now
and 20 minutes ago?

  
'Cause this is sort of
like a conversation.

  
Well, shit.

  
Throw my ticket
out the window

  
Throw my suitcase
out there, too

  
Throw my troubles
out the door

  
I don't need them anymore

  
'Cause tonight I'll be staying
here with you

  
Well...

  
I should...

  
It's late.

  
- So...
- So...

  
I meet a lot of people
in my job...

  
I have to professionally
act interested in.

  
It's a good feeling to be
genuinely interested in someone.

  
Are you leaving?

  
Yeah.

  
Oh.

  
Coming back?

  
Well, next time I'm in town.

  
We're taking a steamer
at noon tomorrow off the docks,

  
to the continent
for a few months.

  
Paris and Greece, I think.

  
I've got to get a hat.

  
Well, thanks for
the pinhole camera demonstration.

  
And the good conversation.

  
All right.

  
Goodbye, Penelope.

  
Goodbye, Bloom.

  
She isn't coming, man.
I need another day with her.

  
You'll have two weeks
with her on the boat.

  
I need another day
to get her on the boat.

  
She's not hooked.
I've had one session,

  
and we mostly talked watermelons
and the optics of lensless photography.

  
It's not the talking that hooked her.

  
I think you're wrong.

  
Hey, get out of
the street, idiot!

  
Watch it!

  
- Hey.
- Hi.

  
What are you doing here?

  
Uh...

  
I wanna give you this money
for the bike and for the whole thing.

  
That's all right.
It's not necessary, really.

  
Oh.

  
Hey, where is this boat going?

  
Penelope, my brother Stephen.

  
Glad to make your acquaintance.

  
Bloom's told me
so much about you.

  
You're the epileptic photographer?

  
Sort of.

  
And this is my personal assistant

  
and private masseuse,
Mrs. Yueng Ling.

  
Yuengling like the beer?

  
No.

  
So, what are your plans in Greece?

  
- I don't plan.
- Good for you.

  
When they begin the beguine

  
It brings back
the sound of music so tender

  
You look very nice.

  
It brings back a night
of tropical splendor

  
It brings back
a memory of green

  
What was your childhood like?

  
I made cameras out of watermelons.

  
Lonely?

  
When I was 5, I got really bad rashes
and allergies and hay fever.

  
So my mom took me to the doctor,

  
and he did that test

  
where they use needles
to prick a grid on your back

  
with different toxins on them,
you know,

  
to see which ones
you're allergic to.

  
Next day I come in,
the doctor lifts up my shirt,

  
and my back
is a patch of oily, moldy,

  
blackish-green
double-puff marshmallows.

  
I was allergic to everything.

  
So they sealed the house
with plastic

  
and a special ventilation system,

  
and I spent the rest of my childhood
and adolescence indoors.

  
Alone.

  
Lonely.

  
- Wow.
- It wasn't till I was 
  
they discovered what I was actually
allergic to was the aluminum alloy

  
the hypodermic needles
were made out of.

  
Then I was gonna leave,

  
but my mom got sick. So I stayed.

  
She stayed sick a really long time.

  
Do you...

  
Feel cheated?

  
The trick to not feeling cheated
is to learn how to cheat.

  
So,

  
I decided this wasn't a story
about a miserable girl

  
trapped in a house that
smelled like medical supplies,

  
wasting her life on a dying person
she sometimes hated. No.

  
This was a story about a girl who could
find infinite beauty in anything,

  
any little thing.

  
And even love the person
she was trapped with.

  
And I told myself this story
until it became true.

  
Now, did doing this help me
escape a wasted life,

  
or did it blind me
so I wouldn't want to escape it?

  
I don't know. But either way,

  
I was the one
telling my own story, so...

  
No, I don't feel cheated at all.

  
I don't suppose
in all your hobby-acquiring,

  
you ever learned how to dance?

  
I went through a phase when I was
mildly obsessed with the bolero.

  
Give me a minute.

  
It's a long time since I last
encountered the brothers Bloom.

  
Are you in antiques?

  
Antique?

  
I wonder, my dear, if you know the
true nature of the men you travel with.

  
A little fear might suit you,
I think.

  
It isn't a Spanish band,
but they'll do their best.

  
Mmm...

  
And then...
This is the really important part.

  
You have to make a little,
itty-bitty, little hole.

  
The ship's too small for us
to be dancing around each other.

  
We might as well
have this out now.

  
Penelope, do you know our friend?

  
Only as the creepy Frenchman.

  
Book-learned.
You know your languages

  
but not your accents,
mademoiselle.

  
- No, I am Belgian.
- Ah.

  
Maximilian Melville,
at your service.

  
Also known in certain professional
circles as The Curator.

  
Pleased to make your acquaintance.
What do you do?

  
I am a curator, presently at
the National Musée in Prague.

  
Yeah. And yourself?

  
I'm an epileptic photographer.

  
Good for you. And you boys?
What do you do?

  
We run a legitimate
antique reselling business.

  
Ah.

  
We've gone straight, Max.

  
Pardon,
but why would you...

  
ascend to the great heights
of the brothers Bloom...

  
just to toss it away, huh?
To do what? To, uh...

  
to sell terra cotta
to blue-haired weekend antiquers?

  
- I don't think so.
- We did. Eat your waffles.

  
You know, the mademoiselle,
she seems a little confused.

  
Maybe she is unawares?

  
Eat your waffles, fat man.

  
Unawares that
the brothers Bloom, in fact,

  
are the two most respected

  
smugglers of antiques
in the Western world.

  
Were. We've been on the straight
for three years. So that's that.

  
Oh, oh. Well, if that is that, then
that indeed is that. If you say so.

  
Oh.

  
- Your name's Melville.
- Oui, vrai.

  
Right.

  
No, sorry, um, 'cause I noticed
before but I couldn't place it.

  
This ship is called
the Fidele,

  
which is the name of the ship in
Melville's novel, The Confidence-Man.

  
- So that's weird.
- Oui.

  
I have never read that.

  
Smugglers.
It's like an adventure story.

  
Whose idea was it to go straight?

  
Mine.
Stephen always loved the life.

  
Then he was almost killed
on a run to Jakarta.

  
These two thugs
with heads like canned hams

  
worked him beyond all reason.

  
Have at me,
you ham-headed bastard!

  
Shit!

  
Sometimes I think
he'd love to die on a job.

  
Cornered at midnight
on a run to Jakarta.

  
That's his dream,

  
to tell a story so well
it fulfills itself.

  
Somehow.

  
It would finally
make it real for him.

  
That's kind of the thing
we all want.

  
Well, trying to get something real
by telling yourself stories is a trap.

  
Trust me on that one.

  
She's different. She knows...

  
Sometimes I feel like
she knows everything.

  
Doesn't that worry you?

  
No, but something about her
is worrying you plenty.

  
She feels like
one of your characters.

  
The day I con you
is the day I die, Bloom.

  
How'd you get the Belgian
on our budget?

  
He's beautiful, right?

  
I didn't expect him
to actually be Belgian.

  
I'm not sure he is.
I'm off to bed.

  
Hey.

  
The only real danger
in this whole play

  
is that you actually fall
in love with her.

  
Hey, look at me.

  
Mexico is closer than you think.

  
Don't fall in love with her, Bloom.

  
Good luck, boys,
with the antiquing, huh.

  
My French is a little rusty,

  
but I believe he said,
"My proposition stands".

  
He came out of nowhere last night.

  
Mademoiselle,
I will make you a proposition.

  
Oh, Lord. What has he got?

  
An 8th-century prayer book.

  
He steals pieces
from his museum in Prague,

  
and sells them off
through smugglers.

  
That's what he does.

  
I wonder who's his fence?

  
It's probably
his Spanish guy, right?

  
Did he say who's buying?

  
Yeah, an Argentinean.
Argentine? Argent...

  
A gentleman from the Argentine.

  
So, The Curator will sell it to
a middleman for $1 million US,

  
and then the Argentine...
The guy from South America,

  
he will pay $2.5.

  
It's not bad.

  
I'm sorry you had to deal
with that guy.

  
Where's that cab going?

  
Train station.

  
Where's the train going?

  
Prague.

  
Come on! Let's be smugglers.

  
I mean, I think it'd be fun.
We should do this.

  
- No.
- Why not?

  
Well, first off,
we don't have $1 million.

  
That's like, I've got,
what... That's whatever.

  
I mean, give me a real reason.

  
This is real. It's dangerous.

  
- This could go very bad.
- Hmm.

  
Well, I think
a little real danger might suit me,

  
so, if you three want to join
my smugglers gang,

  
I'll, you know, consider it.

  
This isn't an adventure story.

  
What are you talking about?

  
Well, it totally is!

  
Go, go, go. Go, go.

  
You there, come back here!

  
This is not for free.

  
Wait up. Where are you?

  
Come here. Come here.

  
We're smuggling.

  
From the snack car.

  
She's making a flag
for our smugglers gang, man.

  
This afternoon, when she was
writing in the observation car,

  
I thought she was writing
a letter, a journal.

  
No. Come on,
she's getting way too into this.

  
It's not funny. I don't like this
Prague con you've cooked up, either.

  
You're just leaving
too much to chance.

  
Listen, the whole point of this

  
was to sweep her off her feet.

  
So why don't you let her enjoy it?

  
While it lasts?

  
This came through just now?

  
"Dear Stephen. Stop.
Word on the wire is"...

  
"The brothers B.
are bound for Prague.

  
"I'm heading there myself.

  
"Would love to see my boys.
Affectionately, D. D. "

  
Our old Fagin is back.
The Diamond Dog.

  
Wire him back for me.

  
Dear Dog. Stop.

  
Unless you feel an excess
of eyeballs left in your skull,

  
I highly suggest you stay far away
from me and my brother. Stop.

  
Affectionately... Et cetera.

  
PENELOPE:
You've taken this train before?

  
- Yeah.
- Hmm.

  
So this is all just like,
"Whatever" to you.

  
Well, I mean, usually,
I'd just, you know,

  
play cards and drink with Bang Bang
in the snack car.

  
Bang who?

  
Yueng Ling.

  
- Bang Bang's her smuggler nickname.
- Ah.

  
So how about me?

  
Do I get a smuggler nickname?

  
No.

  
I think you're constipated.

  
In your fucking soul.

  
I think...

  
you might have
a really big load of grumpy,

  
petrified poop
up your soul's ass.

  
- What?
- Bloom, I know...

  
I'm pretending to be a smuggler.

  
Right?

  
But what you don't know is,

  
I am a full-on smuggler.

  
'Cause I tell it like I own it.

  
You know what your problem is?
You just got to stop thinking so much.

  
I mean, just enjoy the ride, man.

  
I mean...

  
I love thunderstorms.

  
Oh, my God. I'm just so horny.

  
Goodnight.

  
Here's the big two.

  
Last time I was in Prague,
I was in love.

  
What was she like?

  
Pale skin, long feet.

  
So...

  
And that's mine.

  
Bloom and I will secure lodging.

  
Miss Yueng Ling will scout
out the museum.

  
You will go to the bank.

  
That wire should have cleared
if you put it in at Athens.

  
- Cash?
- No.

  
Only movie thugs and Russians
deal in suitcases of cash.

  
You're gonna get
a certified check.

  
Who the hell is that? Who is it?

  
A Candy-gram.

  
Max, it's us, for Christ's sake.

  
Whoa!

  
- Max! Max, it's us, Bloom.
- Max! It's Stephen and Bloom.

  
- Jesus, Max, easy...
- Jesus, whoa!

  
Whoa, now!

  
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Good morning.

  
Come in.
I have been drinking, you know.

  
So,

  
beside the basilica, there are
the offices of administration.

  
And underneath them,
and otherwise totally inaccessible,

  
there's a little section
of catacombs.

  
And of course, the book.

  
But I am the curator,
so I just walk in...

  
and I pinch
the copy girl's babouche.

  
I slip the book into my briefcase,
and I leave.

  
About 2:00 tomorrow, say?

  
It is you
who I do business with, oui?

  
Right.

  
Oh, right.

  
Your smile is the sun,
ma chère.

  
And fallen men,
we need the sun.

  
Diamond Dog,
carrying a cup and a cane.

  
Bloom.

  
Bloom, Bloom, Bloom.

  
How long has it been?

  
Mmm?

  
Tea.

  
Can you believe it? Tea.

  
Been a long time, huh?

  
If I call Stephen down here,
he'll kill you.

  
You're terrified, huh?
Don't be scared.

  
I'm an old man

  
with no depth perception.

  
You don't have to be scared of me.

  
You know, it's been a funny thing,

  
watching you boys take
what I taught you and eclipse me.

  
I am so proud

  
to be a footnote in the life
of the brothers Bloom.

  
But you

  
hate me.

  
You probably won't believe,
but I loved you both very much.

  
But love...

  
You know, folks like us,

  
you can always blink
and realize that it's a fiction.

  
And like Peter walking on water or
Wile E. Coyote running off a cliff,

  
if you look down in doubt,

  
you will fall.

  
That's the price of our lives,
the wax in our wings.

  
One day, Stephen's going to fall.

  
It may be glorious,
but he's going to fall hard,

  
and he won't be there to tell you
what to do, to protect you.

  
And without him,
what would you do?

  
I remember all the other boys
when I went for the belt.

  
They would run. They would fight.
But not you.

  
You were so passive, paralyzed.

  
This is a warning,
Bloom, and an offer.

  
When he's gone,

  
remember me.

  
Oh!

  
Stephen.

  
We were just talking about you.

  
Fuck you!

  
I'm sorry I wasn't there.

  
You can't always be there.

  
Yeah, I guess I can't.

  
Max!

  
Aren't we a little early?

  
Well, he's gone,
that's for sure.

  
Probably halfway
around the world by now.

  
Aren't you a wee bit early...

  
I don't get it.

  
If he was hightailing it,
why didn't he just wait 8 hours

  
until we traded the book
for the million,

  
then he'd a had
some walking-around money.

  
Oh, well, back to antiquing.

  
Nothing lost, nothing gained.

  
Oh.

  
"Oh?"

  
The check was cashed
yesterday afternoon.

  
He would have deposited it
in a Swiss account by now.

  
I'm sorry, Pen. I'm sorry.

  
Such a waste.

  
Poor man. Poor Argentina man.

  
I mean, he's never gonna
even see that book now.

  
It's just gonna rot away
in those catacombs.

  
No.

  
There is no book, all right.
We've been swindled.

  
Well, maybe there is.
Maybe it's real.

  
- It's not real, it's a con.
- No.

  
You know what? It's my money,
so I'm going to find out for sure.

  
He gave us every piece
of information we need.

  
Well, we'd have to clear
the administrative offices.

  
Some sort of...

  
Disruption.

  
She's an artist with
nitroglycerin. It's kind of her thing.

  
I feel like I want to know
more about her.

  
Yeah.

  
A few years back, when we
hit the top of our smuggling game,

  
she just appeared.

  
And we figure someday
she'll just disappear.

  
Check out the tat
on the back of her neck.

  
It's an inky wisp
of personal information.

  
Essentially, it means,

  
"When you're done with something,
blow it up".

  
The smoke detector is in these
empty rooms in the east tower.

  
We're gonna plant
and set off a tiny, tiny...

  
Tiny charge.

  
A puff of smoke sets off
the fire alarm in the rafters.

  
Fire drill ensues, offices empty.

  
Excuse me.

  
You have exactly
four and a half minutes

  
to get through the access hatch,
into the catacombs,

  
grab the book and get out
before the fire brigade arrives.

  
The abort code, in case we have
to abort, is "corned beef".

  
For some reason.

  
Okay,
so she blows this one up.

  
This is Yueng Ling's backpack?

  
Yeah.

  
You know what I feel?

  
Horny?

  
Scared.

  
And all my big talk,
showing off all the time.

  
But, I mean, this isn't a story,

  
it's real.

  
It's freaky scary.

  
Well, as long as you focus on,

  
you know, second left,
third right.

  
Okay.

  
All right?

  
Okay.

  
You know, for the record,
I'm still against this.

  
Why send her in alone?

  
Because going in alone
is a very important thing to do.

  
Listen, she's walking into
a tourism office during a fire drill

  
and taking a phony manuscript
from a lousy crawlspace.

  
Worst-case scenario,
a file clerk asks her if she's lost,

  
which isn't even gonna happen.

  
Okay, she's in position.

  
Because no one's gonna
even know we were ever here.

  
Fuck me.

  
Come on, don't do it.
Don't, don't, don't...

  
Abort! Corned beef, corned beef!

  
Wait, wait. We're fine.
We're fine. She's fine.

  
Listen, if the soldiers find her
wandering the halls

  
they'll assume she's a clerk.
They'll just shoo her out.

  
So as long as she doesn't
do anything suspicious, she's fine.

  
Oh, no.

  
It's the chief of police.

  
The chief of police!

  
Thank you.

  
I have, at different points in my life,

  
quite literally sold ice to an Eskimo
and sand to an Arab.

  
But I have no idea
what she could have said to that man

  
to have sweet-talked her way
out of that castle.

  
I could ask her.

  
How obtuse.

  
Let her sleep.
Train doesn't leave until 8:00.

  
That was real.

  
Yeah, I know.

  
Huh...

  
Freaky scary.

  
Miles from nowhere

  
Guess I'll take my time

  
Oh, yeah

  
To reach there

  
Look up at the mountain

  
I have to climb

  
Oh, yeah

  
To reach there

  
Lord, my body

  
It's been a good friend

  
I won't need it

  
When I reach the end

  
Miles from nowhere

  
Guess I'll take my time

  
Oh, yeah

  
To reach there

  
I creep through the valleys

  
And I grope through the woods

  
'Cause I know when I find it, my honey

  
It's gonna make me feel good, yes

  
An apple.

  
Yeah, it was part of an epiphany.

  
I love everything

  
So don't it make you feel sad

  
'Cause I'll drink to you, my baby

  
I'll think to that Yes,
I'll think to that

  
I'll think to that

  
Miles from nowhere

  
Guess I'll take my time

  
Oh, yeah

  
To reach there

  
Mexico.

  
Okay, we're rendezvousing
with the Argentina guys here,

  
on a isolated beach
just south of the Hotel Tampico.

  
A simple handoff.

  
Penelope, you and Yueng Ling
stay with the car,

  
Bloom and I will be doing the handing.

  
You guys seem a little tense.

  
Well, I'm not thrilled
they set this in Mexico.

  
There could be legitimate reasons,
but Mexico's...

  
And I don't like to simplistically
vilify an entire country,

  
but Mexico's a horrible place.

  
So we'll be careful.

  
This is gonna be dangerous
tomorrow, right?

  
Yeah.

  
You should sleep at the hotel tonight.

  
I'll stay with Stephen
at the beach house.

  
But you'll need sleep.

  
I'm really happy right now. Are you?

  
Right now I am.

  
I wanna be a smuggler
smuggle by day, drink by night

  
Oh, hey, hey, hey, hey

  
The last box in our last con.

  
How's it feel?

  
Hey, what's up?

  
Bloom! What?

  
My brother and I are con men.

  
And...

  
Everything since you hit me
with your Lamborghini,

  
it's all fake, it's all

  
a con.

  
Stephen's gone into town
to prep the Argentina actors.

  
Money's in his place.

  
Money? I don't want the money,
let's just go.

  
Come on, come on.

  
You have to
switch it on at the base.

  
So, I told her our whole play.

  
And I'm here to take her money back.

  
How does that make you feel?

  
Disappointed.

  
This isn't the ending you wanted?

  
What does that matter?
This is the way it ends now.

  
So I might as well
just get it over with.

  
- Where's the money?
- I ate it.

  
- Give me the money, Stephen.
- No.

  
I don't want the money.

  
He's not gonna keep a single
piece of you. Give me the money.

  
I'm sorry you fell in love with her.
She's a mark.

  
And all of this,
all of it is just a con.

  
And every moment you share with her,

  
you're just playing the part
of a man falling in love.

  
That's what you're afraid of, isn't it?

  
That you don't know the difference.

  
Or maybe that there really
is no difference.

  
That that's what love is, right?

  
Okay, we're leaving.

  
No.

  
You're too scared to leave.

  
You're too scared to ride off
into the sunset,

  
because real sunsets might be beautiful

  
but they turn into dark,
uncertain nights.

  
No, you're not ready, otherwise
you wouldn't be here right now.

  
The money is in my bedroom.
It's right behind me.

  
But in my story you don't get the money
or the sunset or the girl.

  
Bloom,

  
let's just go.

  
Please.

  
Please?

  
Tastes like tinfoil.

  
I'm sorry.

  
Shh. Shh. Shh.

  
Get out of here.

  
Take the car and go.

  
I'm not going anywhere.

  
The storm is passed
There is peace at last

  
I've spent my whole life sleeping

  
Now there's not a sound

  
No one to be found anywhere

  
A shepherd and a sheep
will wind you to sleep

  
Where else on earth would you rather go?

  
To a land of wonder when you go under

  
Why would we want

  
to come back at all?

  
Hey.

  
How'd you find me?

  
Bang Bang.

  
How'd you find Bang Bang?

  
She gave me her number
when we were in Mexico. Her cell.

  
Bang Bang has a cell phone?

  
Yeah.

  
I think she's kind of selective in
who she gives her number to.

  
Why are you here, Penelope?

  
Okay.

  
Well, I...

  
I've had a lot of time, you know,

  
to think, these past three months

  
and I want you to seriously
consider this.

  
Go away.

  
Go away.

  
Everything Stephen said was true.

  
I was just playing you as a mark.

  
Okay? Everything between us,

  
none of it was real.

  
Okay.

  
I don't believe you.

  
I let you do your monologue,
but you wanna know why?

  
I let her believe everything you said,

  
so she'd never want to see me again.

  
Get her away from all this for good.

  
- You wanna tell me what I'm doing here?
- You knew she'd come back.

  
What did you figure she was good for,
another million?

  
$1.75 million.

  
Look, of course she came back.

  
She never got what she wanted.

  
Neither did you.

  
All right, look, we're gonna end this.

  
You built us into this,
you're gonna fly us out,

  
you're gonna end it,
so she's done with this.

  
End it all so she can't start up again.

  
Are you sure that's what you want?

  
I love her.

  
I don't want to turn her into me.

  
Well, we can't do the next job

  
until we liquidate our assets
from the last job.

  
Uh-uh, you've got my million
from the last job, so...

  
That's profit, not capital,
the three of us already split that up.

  
So, step number one
is to sell the book of hours.

  
Ah.

  
The one that you told me
was fake, right?

  
Actually, with all your
random expertise,

  
we couldn't risk a flat-out fake.

  
But to get top dollar,
we'll have to sell it deep black market.

  
And there's only one place
that's deep enough for that.

  
Where?

  
- Who'd you get, anyway?
- Hmm?

  
To play the Russians.

  
My boys.

  
I don't understand.

  
We're sending Penelope off into
the sunset, that's what we're doing.

  
Why is he here?

  
We need someone to pass for the
Russian mob to sell our fake book to.

  
The Dog has his big store right here
in Saint Petersburg.

  
All right, stop.

  
I hate him, Stephen.

  
But this isn't that.

  
This is I don't trust him.

  
Yeah, what's he gonna do?

  
Steal our fake money?

  
I have thought this through,
believe me.

  
And we can't end it without him.

  
Trust me. It's gonna be okay.

  
Stephen,
still the grand architect.

  
Your symbols, red for temptation,
white for salvation.

  
And our hero must face the Minotaur
before he escapes the maze.

  
Uh-huh.

  
Pickup will be at your store.

  
Scare her, think a movie version
of the Russian mob,

  
but don't hassle the girl.

  
The girl? What's her name?

  
You don't need to know her name.

  
I know it. Penelope.

  
I look forward to meeting the lady.

  
All right, here we go.

  
We got the back windshield
wired to explode,

  
and there's a large charge
underneath the hood.

  
After the handoff with the Dog,
we drive out of town.

  
Late that night,
we stop at a gas station

  
where our fake Russians double-cross us,

  
and kill us all in a moonlight ambush.

  
We all die. Bloom takes a bullet
so Penelope can escape.

  
The end.

  
Okay.

  
You've been awfully quiet.

  
I'm doing this for her, you know.

  
Tomorrow is the big day.

  
Get down!

  
- Out!
- Come on, come on.

  
Get out, get out.

  
Bloom! Bloom.

  
What happened?

  
You okay?

  
What happened? Where's Stephen?

  
Stephen?

  
I think...

  
Bloom, I think they might have got him,

  
because I think they double-crossed us
or something,

  
because, you know,
I think they got Stephen, but...

  
- Stephen's notebook.
- They're gonna want money

  
so then we can get him back.

  
Who's got him?

  
Why, I think
the Russians got him, Bloom.

  
Stephen, God, please,
what's happening?

  
I don't know what to do, Stephen.

  
Shit!

  
If you know what's happening, now would
be a really good time to speak up.

  
Oh, please. Please, not now.
I need your help here.

  
I don't know what to do.

  
Thanks.

  
I can't believe it.

  
What, that Bang Bang
fell for a car bomb?

  
Neither can I.

  
Oh, you mean...

  
You think maybe she faked it

  
to make the Russians think she was dead?

  
Bloom, what do we do now?

  
It's a ransom note.

  
It says they have Stephen.

  
It says they want the money
wired to a specific account.

  
They give a bank to do it at,
a manager to ask for.

  
Then an address to go to
at 2:00 pm. in two hours.

  
Okay.

  
Well, I'll wire the money from my
account, and we'll go get Stephen.

  
It's a lot.

  
I'll do it. I want to. I've got...

  
Well, how much are they asking for?

  
$1.75 million.

  
Oh.

  
Oh...

  
No! I'm gonna kill him. I am gonna
kill him if that's what this is.

  
If that's all that this is,
I will kill him.

  
Kill who? What are you talking about?

  
I will kill him. I will... No!

  
What?

  
I've been an idiot. This could all be
a con by my brother to get me to...

  
Oh, God, he wanted me to end it,
and he gets your money.

  
Oh, God, I'm gonna be sick.

  
But would he do that? To you?

  
I don't know.

  
Yes. Yeah, of course he would.

  
To tell a story so well it becomes real.

  
The perfect con. That's his whole...

  
God damn it, that's what.

  
You know what? We don't know.

  
- We better transfer the money.
- Son of a...

  
It's your brother's life.

  
I'm gonna wire the money.

  
Okay.

  
I'm coming in with you.

  
No, stay here.

  
Going in alone is a very
important thing to do.

  
I'm so scared.

  
Anything I can imagine
finding in there, I'm scared of.

  
I'm gonna be here when you come out.

  
Stephen?

  
Stephen?

  
Game's up. Come on out.

  
Come on, let's blow this one-hat town.

  
- Stephen!
- No, Bloom.

  
Did Penelope wire the money?

  
Yeah.

  
Stephen, tell me what this is.

  
Jesus Christ, Bloom, I'm sorry.

  
I don't need sorry. I need the truth.

  
God damn it, Stephen.
You tell me what to do.

  
- Get the hell out of here now!
- Tell me the truth.

  
Is this a con or is it real?

  
A con?

  
It's real, Bloom.

  
Hello, Bloom.

  
God damn it, Bloom.
It's real, this is not a con.

  
Are you happy to hear
from your old Diamond Dog?

  
These are the Dog's men.
He's crossed us for revenge.

  
Damn it, Bloom, run!

  
I told you Stephen would fall.

  
And you? You are paralyzed,

  
praying this is just
another one of Stephen's stories.

  
Is it?

  
Close your eyes now, sweet child.

  
And I will tell you the truth.

  
No!

  
Bloom!

  
He's got another gun!

  
Please tell me that's makeup.

  
Please tell me that's a cackle-bladder,

  
and you just pulled off the perfect con.

  
Please.

  
You said it, not me.

  
Can I get a "wow" for this?

  
Wow.

  
You son of a bitch.

  
You did it. You're done here.

  
I want you to promise me you'll never
come back to St. Petersburg again.

  
Tastes like tinfoil.

  
All right, here's what I want you to do.
Bang Bang split?

  
Yeah. Clean exit.

  
How?

  
Car bomb.

  
Good.

  
- Penelope?
- She's outside.

  
All right, here's what.

  
Take Penelope to Helsinki,
get that flight to Rio.

  
Play out the whole "on the run
from vengeful Russians" thing,

  
that'll be fun for her.
Play it like I'm dead, actually.

  
That'll add some gravity to everything.

  
And I'll see you when I see you.

  
- When?
- I don't know. Not too soon, I hope.

  
Last thing you need
is me hanging around.

  
Anyway, how am I going to top this?

  
Bloom,

  
pick a card.

  
- All right.
- Got it?

  
Yeah.

  
That's the best card trick
I've ever seen.

  
Wish you had a bigger audience.

  
You're the only audience I ever needed.

  
I love you.

  
Bye.

  
Shh. Shh. Shh.

  
It's okay. It's okay.

  
You know, he said this thing to me once.

  
He said to me,

  
"There's no such thing
as an unwritten life.

  
"Just a badly written one".

  
Oh, God.

  
I love you, Bloom.

  
You know what we're gonna do?

  
We're gonna live

  
like we're telling the best story
in the whole world.

  
Are you ready?

  
And Stephen said
something else, once.

  
"The perfect con is one
where everyone involved

  
"gets just the thing they wanted".

  
Well...

  
You came to me

  
In the hospital ward
when I blew out my knee

  
But I wasn't there
to be cared for or carried

  
'Cause I was asleep

  
In my bed, in my house
at the end of our street

  
While you drove across town
at 3:00 in the morning

  
It was fake

  
For the sake

  
Of making you take me for real

  
But I guess you're even less impressed

  
If the world is a stage

  
And we're all of us actors
in some cosmic play

  
I am the man at the masquerade

  
Who was fake

  
For the sake

  
Of making you take me for real

  
But I guess
you're even less impressed

  
I keep trying
to paint a picture

  
'Cause what I drew

  
Could be improved

  
If I could make you see

  
More flame than flicker

  
These half-truths

  
Could be improved

  
With less of me

  
And more you

  
Believe what I speak

  
At least just keep

  
Speaking to me