Guinevere Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Guinevere script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the movie starring Sarah Polley.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Guinevere. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

Guinevere Script




These photographs of me

were taken when I was 21 years old.





They were shot on Plus X, with

a 105mm, lens on an Nikon F-2,



developed normal,

2 stops overexposed.





I like this one a lot.





The F-2 was lost forever to a

pawn shop in Los Angeles, 4 years ago.

 

                   

The photographer lived in

San Francisco up until last week.



 

                   

He was the worst

man I ever met.



 

                   

Or maybe the best.

I'm still not sure.



 

                   

If you're supposed to

learn from your mistakes,



  

                   

then he was the best

mistake I ever made.



  

                   

He was my most spectacular

and cherished fuckup,



  

                   

and I was his Guinevere,



  

                   

whatever that means.



  

                   

Tell me



  

                   

Why you keep foolin'

little coquette



  

                   

Makin' fun of the world



  

                   

Harper, you look wonderful!



  

                   

- Isn't your sister a beautiful bride?

- She really is.



  

                   

Now, did I hear correctly?

Harvard law in the fall?



  

                   

- That's right, yeah.

- We have to talk. I'm an alum, you know.



  

                   

Harper, congrats.

I just heard about Harvard.



  

                   

Our John's in law school there.



  

                   

Hey, weren't you

engaged to Jeremy?



  

                   

You were, weren't you?



  

                   

Maybe someone you love



  

                   

Will just be foolin'



  

                   

And when you're all alone



  

                   

With only regrets



  

                   

You'll find, little coquette



  

                   

I love you



  

                   

- Sorry.

- That's all right.



  

                   

You gonna stop hiding

in here anytime soon?



  

                   

I'm not hiding.



  

                   

Your father and sister

have been upstairs forever.



  

                   

I cannot believe they'd pull

this Oedipal crap today.



  

                   

What do you

want me to do?



  

                   

We have    

fucking guests here.



  

                   

Just tell them to knock off the Greek

tragedy and get their asses down here.



  

                   

And I can't find the

photographer. Find them.



  

                   

Could you knock?



  

                   

I did. Mom is

freaking out down there.



  

                   

Is she crying?



  

                   

No, she feels fat.



  

                   

Sue, you're not fat.



  

                   

Oh.

What's so funny?



  

                   

It's nothing.



  

                   

It's nothing.



  

                   

I told them no one goes to Paris

in August. Everything's closed.



  

                   

But they're young and dumb. They don't

care about the Musee Picasso anyway.



  

                   

Excuse me.

Well?



  

                   

Yeah.



  

                   

Excuse me. Have you seen

the wedding photographer?



  

                   

Have you seen the

wedding photographer?



  

                   

- Sorry. Canape?

- Thank you.



  

                   

Damn it.



  

                   

Fuck you. Fuck you.

It's my life.



  

                   

Fuck you. Fuck you.

I don't care.



  

                   

- Fuck you...

- I know that song.



  

                   

Ever try singing it

really loud?



  

                   

No.



  

                   

You should do it sometime.



  

                   

Opens up all kinds

of possibilities.



  

                   

Having trouble

with that?



  

                   

- My thumbs are too small.

- Let me see.



  

                   

Tiny.



  

                   

There you go, Guinevere.



  

                   

My name's Harper.



  

                   

I'm Connie.



  

                   

That's tricky

with champagne.



  

                   

Maybe you'd, uh,

prefer a little of this?



  

                   

I'm usually

not much of a drinker.



  

                   

No, neither am I.



  

                   

You're the

wedding photographer.



  

                   

Today I'm a

wedding photographer.



  

                   

It's a transformation that only

seems to occur when the rent is due.



  

                   

Suddenly I find myself in a Pacific Heights

mansion wearing a secondhand tux,



  

                   

surrounded by

women in chiffon.



  

                   

Maybe... maybe

this sounds rude --



  

                   

Would it be possible for you

not to take my picture?



  

                   

Why?



  

                   

I don't like to be looked at.



  

                   

It's a little late for that.



  

                   

Good. Mrs. Sloane, could I ask you

to move in slightly, please?



  

                   

Thank you.



  

                   

Bride, turn your body

slightly in for me.



  

                   

A little more.

That's great.



  

                   

And, can I ask the bridesmaid

to move a little to her right?



  

                   

A little more.



  

                   

Another inch.



  

                   

Perfect.



  

                   

Looking this way!



  

                   

Come on, smile!



  

                   

One more.



  

                   

Here we go.



  

                   

Fine, I'll stop screaming.

Just say something!



  

                   

I've been talking

to you for hours!



  

                   

You're not talking!

That's the point!



  

                   

- You're breaking fucking plates!

- I don't understand!



  

                   

- You don't listen.

- I'm listening!



   

                   

Let's talk about this calmly.



   

                   

Why do you always whisper?

You always whisper!



   

                   

- Does that make you smarter or something?

- No, it means I'm holding back.



   

                   

- You're a bastard!

- Please don't hurt the photographs!



   

                   

Oh, I'm so sorry I fucked

with the fucking photographs!



   

                   

What are you doing?

Please...



   

                   

Damn you!



   

                   

- I hate you.

- No, you don't.



   

                   

What we need to do

is sit down and talk.



   

                   

No. No!



   

                   

Please.

Please.



   

                   

Hi.



   

                   

You're incredible.



   

                   

I just came to

pick up the wedding...



   

                   

Go in and wait.

I'll be right back.



   

                   

Sorry about that.



   

                   

We work together, and she

can be a bit unstable at times.



   

                   

It's just that when

people act irrational,



   

                   

it always comes

as a bit of a shock.



   

                   

Yeah, I know exactly

what you mean.



   

                   

Do ya?



   

                   

- I really should come back another time.

- No.



   

                   

I'm glad you're here.



   

                   

Let's have a drink.

Hmm?



   

                   

This is, uh...



   

                   

This is beautiful.



   

                   

Think that's a good one?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

I mean, I'm not --

I'm not an expert.



   

                   

- Which print is better?

- You're asking me?



   

                   

They look exactly the same.

I mean, I wouldn't know how to tell.



   

                   

Just go with your gut feeling.

Like, boom -- That one.



   

                   

No, no, no,

I'm really not good at --



   

                   

Take a beat, go away

for a second, and look back.



   

                   

- That one.

- That one?



   

                   

- You sure?

- No.



   

                   

Absolutely not.



   

                   

Well, maybe you're right.



   

                   

Spent   days printing these, then I couldn't

decide which ones to hang at my show.



   

                   

- You've got a good eye.

- Me? No.



   

                   

My family, none of us can do anything

except doodle on legal pads.



   

                   

That's right.

You're going to law school.



   

                   

You heard.



   

                   

- Have they cashed your tuition check yet?

- No.



   

                   

I mean, I don't

think so. Why?



   

                   

I don't think you

really wanna go.



   

                   

What makes you say --



   

                   

- Oh, God!

- Don't worry. I've got another bottle.



   

                   

- I always fuck everything up.

- Do you really?



   

                   

That's wonderful.



   

                   

I ruined your pictures.



   

                   

This'll wash off.

Don't worry about it.



   

                   

You've actually improved this.

It's never looked better.



   

                   

- Look at that. It's extraordinary!

- I'm really sorry.



   

                   

That's great.



   

                   

Look at Aunt Margaret.

What a cow.



   

                   

I look incredible there.



   

                   

That's odd. Harper, you're --

you're not here!



   

                   

In any of these.

Harper, you --



   

                   

But you were there.

You were right there!



   

                   

Wait a minute.



   

                   

Check this out.



   

                   

Oh, my.



   

                   

Let me see.



   

                   

It's a nice picture.



   

                   

But he didn't even get your

name right. Look on the back.



   

                   

What was his place like?



   

                   

It was just a place.



   

                   

He told everyone he had the

absolute right to exclusively license...



   

                   

the design to their company.

Of course he's clearly liable.



   

                   

I disagree. The statute explicitly

requires intent to mislead.



   

                   

Exactly. Which you

could easily prove.



   

                   

Dad's right.



   

                   

Really, Susan?

You agree with your father?



   

                   

I'm shocked.



   

                   

We're talking about the law.



   

                   

There's objective truth here.

It's not about choosing sides.



   

                   

Thank you.

I stand corrected.



   

                   

Where do you stand, Harper?



   

                   

Don't bother her. She's busy

digging a hole in her bread.



   

                   

By the way, Harper,

you'll never fit in there.



   

                   

Well?



   

                   

I really don't know.



   

                   

How does one get into Harvard

without having opinions?



   

                   

That's what they'll teach her. She'll

come home with plenty of opinions.



   

                   

I didn't.



   

                   

I'm sorry, darling?



   

                   

I didn't get in.



   

                   

I-I was wait-listed.

I thought I would clear the list.



   

                   

Wow.



   

                   

They said the list wasn't

that long. I thought that --



   

                   

I-I thought that...



   

                   

I was sure...



   

                   

I told my parents I didn't

really get into Harvard.



   

                   

But I did... get in.



   

                   

I just told them I didn't.

I don't want to go.



   

                   

I think that picture

you took of me is just...



   

                   

shocking.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

Bye.



   

                   

Would you like

to come in?



   

                   

You can sleep here.



   

                   

I usually print at night.



   

                   

Won't be using

the bed until morning.



   

                   

If you wanna shower when

you wake up, it's down the hall.



   

                   

Thank you very much.

You're really nice.



   

                   

There's loads of reading

material here if you can't sleep.



   

                   

Do you know

who that is?



   

                   

He changed art

in America.



   

                   

That's Georgia O'Keeffe.



   

                   

When they met, he was already

a famous photographer.



   

                   

He was a revolutionary.

She was about your age.



   

                   

Knock on the darkroom door

if you need me!



   

                   

So the whole time you were sleeping

in his bed he stayed downstairs?



   

                   

- He stayed in the darkroom all night.

- Listen to you say "darkroom"!



   

                   

- Sorry.

- And in the morning?



   

                   

So then I came downstairs

and he made me eggs.



   

                   

- Scrambled? I want details.

- Okay, Patty.



   

                   

- He went to the fridge...

- Stop. Come on.



   

                   

He made me an omelet.



   

                   

Then he was telling me about

Ireland, which was amazing.



   

                   

Ooh, Ireland.

Sexy.



   

                   

- Patty, do you even know

what's going on over there?

- Yes!



   

                   

- No, you don't.

- Shut up.



   

                   

- It was amazing, the things

he was saying about it.

- And then?



   

                   

- Then we talked about art.

- Art?



   

                   

Oh, God, it was --

it was truly horrifying.



   

                   

- I was such an idiot.

- I'm sure you were.



   

                   

I'm sure you were

a total idiot.



   

                   

What did you expect? Of course

I was totally socially inept.



   

                   

- You know what a loser I am.

- Yes, you are.



   

                   

This is it.



   

                   

This is the place he said

he'd be at if I felt like coming by.



   

                   

He meets with his friends here

to discuss ethics or something.



   

                   

You're kidding.



   

                   

Look, that's him.

By the bar. By the bar.



   

                   

- He's old!

- I told you!



   

                   

But attractive, in

an ugly kind of way.



   

                   

Jesus!



   

                   

Oh, he wants to

fuck you, for sure.



   

                   

- He's older than my dad!

- That doesn't mean anything.



   

                   

What makes you such

an expert on this topic?



   

                   

Uncle Greg.



   

                   

- I'm going in.

- Hang on to your panties.



   

                   

Call me!



   

                   

Okay, so then,

according to you,



   

                   

the photographer's

viewpoint here,



   

                   

Mark Twain shouldn't have

included Jim in 'Huckleberry Finn'...



   

                   

because Mark Twain was

a white man from the South.



   

                   

Zack, we're not just talking about

the content of the story here.



   

                   

We're talking about the relationship

of the artist to the art.



   

                   

When a white man starts

telling a black's story --



   

                   

A black woman's story.



   

                   

He's a capitalist

exploiting their product.



   

                   

"Product." Do you

hear this shit?



   

                   

You didn't make it. So if you

take it, all you can do is sell it.



   

                   

Bullshit!



   

                   

You don't see Maya Angelou sitting down

to write 'The Chosen', do you?



   

                   

- Let her do it!

- You were right about lesbians, Zack.



   

                   

- It's okay by me.

- I can't speak for the Chins,

but the Wongs are with you.



   

                   

Hold it, hold it,

hold it! Harper.



   

                   

What do you think?



   

                   

He's right.



   

                   

You're right.



   

                   

Of course he's right.



   

                   

The Zack and Connie Show.

Always very entertaining.



   

                   

- I'm Billie, by the way.

- Hi, I'm Harper.



   

                   

- Can I get you a drink?

- No, I'm okay. Thanks.



   

                   

So, how long have you

and Connie been together?



   

                   

- Together?

- Aren't you...



   

                   

Aren't we together?

No, no, no, no.



   

                   

- Oh, you guys aren't --

- No. No.



   

                   

He's way too old. I mean, not that

that should matter or anything.



   

                   

- No, we're not together.

- Mm-hmm.



   

                   

He built that loft himself.

Did you know that?



   

                   

- Really?

- Billie...



   

                   

Billie?



   

                   

Um, look, um...



   

                   

here's my number, if

you ever need to talk or...



   

                   

Need to talk about what?



   

                   

Whatever.



   

                   

- Bye, everyone.

- Good-bye.

- Bye.



   

                   

You never ordered a one-egg

breakfast in your life.



   

                   

You never ordered a one-egg breakfast.

Nobody ever orders a one-egg --



   

                   

You didn't tell me

you have a book.



   

                   

Do you want to

stay here, Harper?



   

                   

Tonight?



   

                   

Tonight, and after.



   

                   

For as long as you like.



   

                   

Unless you have

other plans.



   

                   

I should point out

there'd be conditions.



   

                   

Like?



   

                   

You'd have to work.



   

                   

- You mean, pay half the rent?

- No.



   

                   

I didn't say you'd have to get a job.

I said you'd have to work.



   

                   

Learn, commit

yourself to study,



   

                   

read, create something.



   

                   

"Create something"?



   

                   

Photograph, paint, write, dance.

It doesn't matter.



   

                   

Photograph, paint,

write or dance?



   

                   

That's what I would have

to do to stay here?



   

                   

That's all.



   

                   

Couldn't I do something

a little more menial, like, uh,



   

                   

laundry, maybe?



   

                   

I don't think so, comrade.



   

                   

What would be the point?



   

                   

But I've got no

talent for anything.



   

                   

I mean, I... I...



   

                   

I can't draw or dance.



   

                   

I'm terrified

of cameras.



   

                   

- I'd help.

- Oh.



   

                   

You're mistaking me for

someone with potential.



   

                   

I don't make mistakes.



   

                   

Where would I stay?



   

                   

Were you comfortable

last night?



   

                   

Do you always stay in

your darkroom at night?



   

                   

Not always.



   

                   

Oh.



   

                   

I get it.



   

                   

I don't, uh --



   

                   

I don't have

a boyfriend.



   

                   

Just thought I would, you know,

volunteer that information.



   

                   

I, uh, really like

this table.



   

                   

I really like this table.



   

                   

I-I-I don't know

what to do.



   

                   

Look at this,

Harper.



   

                   

Look how delicate

that line is.



   

                   

Thanks, I really

worked at it.



   

                   

Why don't you go and

sit over on the couch?



   

                   

Wh --



   

                   

Why?



   

                   

I want to look

at your form.



   

                   

Wow.



   

                   

- I'm sorry.

- It's okay.



   

                   

Why don't you go

over there? I'll stay here.



   

                   

Thanks.



   

                   

I'm embarrassed.



   

                   

Why?



   

                   

Well, you're just --

you're just sitting there.



   

                   

Don't think about me.

Think about something else.



   

                   

Like what?



   

                   

Divide      by   .



   

                   

I'm not drunk

enough for this.



   

                   

- Try it!

- This is absurd.



   

                   

Concentrate.



   

                   

I'd like to see that, you concentrating.

I bet that's really nice.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

All right.



   

                   

Okay, so,     ...



   

                   

   goes into    twice,

so that's    so...



   

                   

   so, uh --    is    is  

bringing down the  .



   

                   

   goes into    --

  ...  ...



   

                   

It's     with a

remainder of  .



   

                   

Right.



   

                   

You want me to

do another one?



   

                   

More than anything

in the world.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

Okay, um --



   

                   

Uh,      times...



   

                   

  .



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

All right, uh,

  times   is   



   

                   

so, uh,



   

                   

carry the  ...



   

                   

Okay,   times   is   

plus   is   



   

                   

so   carry the  .



   

                   

Um,   times   is   

so that's  ...



   

                   

Carry the  .

  times  .



   

                   

Carry the   so, um --



   

                   

Okay, so   ...



   

                   

  times  ...



   

                   

No,   times   is   



   

                   

plus...



   

                   

Wait,   .



   

                   

Um, okay, so  

carry the  



   

                   

is, um,



   

                   

seventy...



   

                   

   plus   uh...



   

                   

I get to change my mind

at any point?



   

                   

Of course.



   

                   

You know, I'll be    in a few months,

but people still treat me like I'm   .



   

                   

Why am I like this?



   

                   

So many embarrassing things

have happened to me.



   

                   

Sometimes I lie

awake at night...



   

                   

and feel pinned to

the bed with shame.



   

                   

I feel like I've failed

publicly so many times...



   

                   

and I know it's gonna

happen again. I just...



   

                   

don't know when.



   

                   

I live in suspense of the

next time I humiliate myself.



   

                   

Those are precisely the conditions

required for becoming an artist.



   

                   

You're gonna do

great things, Harper.



   

                   

How can you say that?



   

                   

Based on what?



   

                   

I know about these things.



   

                   

I'll clear out the

back corner of the loft...



   

                   

to make you

a work space.



   

                   

You'll start tomorrow.



   

                   

Do you think you could

move that lamp for me?



   

                   

Throw a little shadow

on his face.



   

                   

You're really

good at that.



   

                   

Really?



   

                   

Don't worry. For a few

seconds there, it was perfect.



   

                   

Patty.



   

                   

You really have room for her with

all those roommates at your place?



   

                   

Actually, one of my roommates

just moved out, so...



   

                   

it's really unbelievably convenient,

um, the way it all worked out.



   

                   

- Bye. Bye, Dad.

- All right.



   

                   

So, um, Harper's really

doing us all a big favor.



   

                   

- See you later, Mrs. Sloane.

- Bye, Mom.



   

                   

Tristeza



   

                   

The deep sadness

the heart feels



   

                   

Let it leave mine forever



   

                   

Let my life sing again



   

                   

From this day on my days

are dreams of sun and roses



   

                   

My nights a carnival of song



   

                   

- Much more detail than that.

From this day on



   

                   

My dear the dark of sorrow closes

- You've gotta read them both.



   

                   

- If you're gonna explore jazz,

you'll need some history of it.

This day when you came along



   

                   

From this day on my days

are dreams of sun and roses



   

                   

My nights a carnival of song



   

                   

From this day on, my dear

the dark of sorrow closes



   

                   

This day when you came along



   

                   

Hello?



   

                   

Where are you?



   

                   

Where?



   

                   

They're in here.



   

                   

Hey, Zack,

say hi to Harper.



   

                   

- Maybe later.

- God, what's he on?



   

                   

Nothing.

That's alcohol detox.



   

                   

That's what happens when

he doesn't have a drink.



   

                   

- How long is he gonna be like this?

- Another day or two.



   

                   

Got any mercy in here?



   

                   

I'll go ask the doctor

about an alcohol drip.



   

                   

You know, pal, this is why

you should never stop drinking.



   

                   

Take it easy, buddy.

You're doing great.



   

                   

I'm going for a smoke.



   

                   

- Here's your camera.

- You keep it.



   

                   

Document it for him.



   

                   

- What?

- Take some pictures.



   

                   

When he wakes up, show him what

he suffered through. He loves that.



   

                   

- Y-You must be joking.

- I'll be outside in the car.



   

                   

Dr. Morris to Recovery.

Dr. Morris to Recovery.



   

                   

How'd you do?



   

                   

Not even one?



   

                   

- Why did you do that to me?

- I told you you were gonna have to work.



   

                   

He pissed all over me.

Ok?



   

                   

How am I supposed to take a photograph

when he's pissing all over me?



   

                   

How am I gonna know

when that looks right?



   

                   

You don't take a picture

when it looks right.



   

                   

You take a picture when it hurts

so bad you can't stand it anymore.



   

                   

Well, I can't do it.



   

                   

It's work, Harper.

It's work.



   

                   

It's not the fuckin' flower show

at the Junior League.



   

                   

You're so mad.



   

                   

Can't I do

something else?



   

                   

Something I'm good at?



   

                   

Like what?



   

                   

Come on, baby.



   

                   

I'll take you home, put you

in a nice, hot shower,



   

                   

make you a bowl

of soup, hmm?



   

                   

Come on. You've got

Zack's piss in your hair.



   

                   

Good!



   

                   

Please, Guinevere.

Don't make me carry you.



   

                   

Don't!



   

                   

- Come on.

- Stop it. Put me down.



   

                   

Don't photograph me.



   

                   

I'm not. I'm shooting

the back of the chair.



   

                   

Why would you do that?



   

                   

'Cause you're in it.



   

                   

I said don't photograph me.



   

                   

How about just

a part of you?



   

                   

An ear?

An elbow?



   

                   

Finger?



   

                   

Oh, Guinevere.



   

                   

I would gladly crawl on my hands and

knees over a desert of broken glass...



   

                   

before I'd do anything

to make you feel bad again.



   

                   

You know that,

don't you?



   

                   

Harper! You slut!



   

                   

When this gets out, your

status is gonna be huge.



   

                   

How does it work

when he takes them?



   

                   

Does he make you drink wine

and listen to bad disco?



   

                   

- No.

- Is that erotic?



   

                   

You freak.



   

                   

You know, this is standard

photographic subject matter.



   

                   

Well, you know, Patty, I stepped

in front of that background...



   

                   

and I took off my shirt...



   

                   

and he whipped out his camera and

took eight rolls of film of my tits!



   

                   

Get down!



   

                   

- But you know what?

- What?



   

                   

No, they're nice.



   

                   

Really?



   

                   

Yeah.

They're sort of beautiful.



   

                   

Are they all like this?



   

                   

Did you put little hats on or

anything? Ooh, shit. Sorry.



   

                   

- It's not in here.

- Oh, God. Breast fest.



   

                   

Um, Harper?



   

                   

- Those aren't mine.

- Wait a minute.



   

                   

Maybe they are.



   

                   

- No.

- No.



   

                   

No, they're not.



   

                   

Are these yours?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

I believe those

are Jessica's.



   

                   

I keep mine in a box

in the studio.



   

                   

I want to see

your form, baby.



   

                   

Oh, God. No.

That's not funny.



   

                   

I'm sorry. You're right.

It's not funny.



   

                   

It's a fuckin'

tragedy, baby.



   

                   

Oh, my God.



   

                   

How old are you,

anyway?



   

                   

I'll be    in a

couple of weeks.



   

                   

Twenty-one.



   

                   

He's shameless.



   

                   

So, uh, what, may I ask,

are you studying?



   

                   

I'm not.

I just got my B.A.



   

                   

No, I mean at the Cornelius Fitzpatrick

School for Young Ladies.



   

                   

What? Painting, sculpture,

photography, what?



   

                   

- Photography.

- Really?



   

                   

That's what I started with. Then I

moved into painting in my second year.



   

                   

- How long ago did you --

- What, graduate?



   

                   

About seven years ago.



   

                   

Aw, come on, Harper.



   

                   

Only the most

promising are chosen.



   

                   

Or the most pathetically fucked-up.

I can't really decide which one.



   

                   

Yeah, no, it's

definitely the latter.



   

                   

The reading

can be overwhelming...



   

                   

and the lectures

are definitely long,



   

                   

but it's pretty intoxicating being

the center of all that attention.



   

                   

Is he taking money

from you yet?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

No episodes in which you're

the ruling class enemy?



   

                   

- No.

- Well, then, you're fine.



   

                   

W-What are you talking about?

What are you saying?



   

                   

You know, I really should shut up.

He's gonna be so mad at me.



   

                   

Okay, you know --

Sorry, I...



   

                   

actually have to get somewhere

where I can throw up.



   

                   

Hey, Harper, I understand

why you're with him.



   

                   

That's a relief.



   

                   

Hey, Guinevere.



   

                   

He's gonna try to get a

five-year commitment out of you.



   

                   

And I never met anyone

who made it more than three.



   

                   

I don't think you should go.



   

                   

Hey.



   

                   

- Hey!

- What?



   

                   

I don't think

you should go.



   

                   

Why not?



   

                   

You're not ready yet.



   

                   

Yeah?



   

                   

I feel ready.



   

                   

You know what else I feel?



   

                   

I feel stupid.

I feel really, really stupid!



   

                   

Harper, listen to me,

would you?



   

                   

Harper, please listen.



   

                   

Billie wanted to be an artist.

I tried to help her for a while.



   

                   

But it turned out she wasn't

serious about her painting.



   

                   

She was distracted

by commerce.



   

                   

You saw her stuff.



   

                   

How many of us have there

been, just out of interest?



   

                   

Don't tell me you

believe what she said.



   

                   

How many of us Guineveres

have there been?



   

                   

I don't understand

why you're so upset.



   

                   

Maybe I called her Guinevere.

I don't even remember.



   

                   

People call each other "sweetie pie",

and it's not considered private property.



   

                   

You'll never

call me that again.



   

                   

Okay. Okay.



   

                   

The word will never

cross my lips again.



   

                   

Don't. I'm going!

You understand that?



   

                   

Harper, come on.



   

                   

Why do you really think

Billie said all those things?



   

                   

She was warning me.



   

                   

No, she feels

threatened by you.



   

                   

- She's being competitive.

- She's competitive with me, I believe that.



   

                   

What's not to believe? That she never

had ten percent of your talent?



   

                   

That I never loved her?

That I want to marry you?



   

                   

What did you say?



   

                   

Don't worry. I'm not asking you.

I know what you'd say.



   

                   

Harper, I'm not a fool. I look down the

road, and I see you with somebody else.



   

                   

But I also see you as an artist, and

it would be such a fuckin' tragedy...



   

                   

if you let something like this

take you off your path.



   

                   

Don't walk away

from yourself, Harper.



   

                   

You've got talent.



   

                   

How can you say that?



   

                   

- I haven't taken a single photograph.

- But you will.



   

                   

- Maybe I never will.

- Give yourself a chance.



   

                   

Give yourself some time.



   

                   

With you.



   

                   

I'm not asking you

to stay forever.



   

                   

I'm not asking for

the rest of your life.



   

                   

How long are

you asking for?



   

                   

Five years.



   

                   

It's not time for you

to go, Harper.



   

                   

When it's time,

you'll know.



   

                   

We both will.



   

                   

I can't.



   

                   

Come on. Get out.

Go on. Get out. Go home.



   

                   

Go on back to your big house with your

servants and your mother's social club.



   

                   

Here, take your cowardly ass

and get out of here!



   

                   

So I argued that it has limited

protectability as an intellectual property.



   

                   

- Good argument. What did they say?

- Thanks, Gary.



   

                   

That the international

copyright hasn't expired yet.



   

                   

But I'm going

to blow them away.



   

                   

There's no birthday cake.



   

                   

I asked your father to pick it up

on the way home, but...



   

                   

by the time he got to

the bakery, it was closed.



   

                   

It's okay. I'm stuffed.



   

                   

I asked the restaurant

to send one over, but...



   

                   

what are you gonna do?

They're Chinese.



   

                   

They're too busy blowing up

ducks to bake anything.



   

                   

So it's fortune cookies

for everybody.



   

                   

Come on, everybody.



   

                   

Take a cookie.



   

                   

Last week at the firm,

a couple of women did this.



   

                   

After you read your fortune out loud,

add the words "in bed" to the end of it.



   

                   

You'll see. It's funny.



   

                   

Gary.

You're a daredevil.



   

                   

Come on.

Read yours out loud.



   

                   

And, uh, add the words

"in bed" at the end of it.



   

                   

Go on. Go on.



   

                   

Um, "You will

soon experience...



   

                   

changes for the better"...

in bed.



   

                   

See, that's funny.



   

                   

Susan, I bet you're

glad to hear that one.



   

                   

All right.

I'm gonna read mine.



   

                   

Everybody listening?



   

                   

"A friendly conversation

removes seeming hindrances"...



   

                   

in bed.



   

                   

Darling, now there's something

we haven't tried yet.



   

                   

A friendly conversation.



   

                   

Go on, Alan.



   

                   

Read yours.



   

                   

"Good character guards

against temptation"...



   

                   

in bed.



   

                   

Oh, so that's been

your problem, darling.



   

                   

Your sterling character.



   

                   

This is childish

and ridiculous.



   

                   

- We're just having a little fun.

- No.



   

                   

You are totally

out of control, as usual.



   

                   

You're gonna let her

talk to me that way?



   

                   

- Don't drag him into this.

- Listen to you.



   

                   

- Listen to you defend him.

- All right. Enough.



   

                   

It has nothing to do

with him. It's you.



   

                   

Oh, I see.

How about you, Alan?



   

                   

- Do you have something to say about it?

- Deborah!



   

                   

"You will soon take a giant

  -inch cock up your ass"...



   

                   

in bed.



   

                   

I don't know.

Somehow...



   

                   

it didn't make mine

any funnier.



   

                   

Fuck this family.



   

                   

Gary.



   

                   

Just pick it up.



   

                   

Happy birthday, baby.

I couldn't stay away.



   

                   

I missed you so much.



   

                   

Come on, baby.

I have a surprise for you.



   

                   

Hold it. One more person goes

up there, and we're shuttin' it down.



   

                   

- I live here.

- Let's see some proof.



   

                   

Officer, I don't

carry I.D. with me.



   

                   

What is this, a

fascist police state?



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Now you're gonna

mace us, you pigs?



   

                   

Fine. Thanks very much.

We're going. We're going.



   

                   

Come on.



   

                   

- What's going on up there?

- Your surprise party.



   

                   

That's Patty.

Patty!



   

                   

Patty!



   

                   

Patty!



   

                   

- What are you guys doing down there?

- Send down the fire escape.



   

                   

I'm totally wasted, and I don't know

anybody. You should have been here.



   

                   

Harper, happy birthday!



   

                   

Connie, there's some irate Maoists

waiting in the bathroom...



   

                   

ready to throw away their little red

books if they don't get to piss soon.



   

                   

- I'll go see.

- Patty, look at me.



   

                   

Oh, off.



   

                   

No! Oh -- Ow!



   

                   

- Patty!

- Oh!



   

                   

Oh, no. See, you don't even

understand this shit, man.



   

                   

This is gonna

change the future.



   

                   

Not everybody's future.

This is a rich man's technology.



   

                   

- You're a technophobe.

- And you're also a stubborn bastard.



   

                   

I'm not stubborn, I'm right.

Harper, am I stubborn, or am I right?



   

                   

- You're right.

- Oh, great. Yeah, that's great.



   

                   

Happy birthday, Harper



   

                   

We all came to celebrate



   

                   

With you-ou-ou



   

                   

Happy birthday



   

                   

Harper



   

                   

Go, girl! Happy birthday.



   

                   

Holy fucking shit.



   

                   

Did you have

a good time?



   

                   

It was the best

party of my life.



   

                   

Come over here.



   

                   

I told you

it wasn't time.



   

                   

Thank God you're back.



   

                   

My good girl.



   

                   

Your what?



   

                   

Who's my good girl, hmm?



   

                   

Me.



   

                   

Okay. Do me a favor.

Don't mess with the focus.



   

                   

- What are you doing?

- Just this.



   

                   

You're good at that.



   

                   

Careful.



   

                   

- Here we go.

- I'm making you dinner.



   

                   

Forget the dinner.

I'm not hungry.



   

                   

No, no, no, no!

Wait a minute. No, no, don't look.



   

                   

- You can't look yet.

- I didn't know we could go up here.



   

                   

You can go anywhere.

You know that.



   

                   

- Remember that. It's important.

- Okay.



   

                   

- I'm ready to look now.

- No, no. Wait, wait. Wait.



   

                   

- Okay, ready?

- I'm ready.



   

                   

Ta-da!



   

                   

You like it?



   

                   

I wanted to give you a

welcome home present.



   

                   

This is it.



   

                   

There's a chair up there

where you can sit and read,



   

                   

or study, or write in your

journal, or just sit and think.



   

                   

You're insane.



   

                   

And there's a lamp there,



   

                   

in case you need more light.

- More light?



   

                   

And there's an all-weather umbrella,

only don't put it up when it's windy.



   

                   

That's the only caveat

I have. Do you like it?



   

                   

- You're crazy.

- Yeah, but do you like it?



   

                   

- I love it.

- It's brilliant!



   

                   

I don't know why I didn't

think of it before!



   

                   

We could take over

the whole roof.



   

                   

- Won't the landlords be mad?

- The who?



   

                   

- The landlords!

- Nah!



   

                   

Over there could be the

dance floor, here the stage...



   

                   

A thousand people

can listen to jazz...



   

                   

under the stars!



   

                   

I claim this roof for...



   

                   

Queen Guinevere!



   

                   

You're crazy!



   

                   

Yeah, but it works.



   

                   

- Harper?

- Yeah?



   

                   

Your mom's here.



   

                   

Sh --



   

                   

- She's getting dressed.

- Oh, good.



   

                   

- Can I take your coat?

- No, I don't think so.



   

                   

Now that I look at you, I really

don't know how you pull it off.



   

                   

But then I'm more

superficial than Harper.



   

                   

Looks have always

been important to me.



   

                   

You don't like me

very much, do you?



   

                   

You're older than I am, and you're

fucking my daughter. What's to like? May I?



   

                   

Sure. Help yourself.



   

                   

Mom, hi. You okay?

Is everything -- everything's okay?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

I dropped by Patty's place and

caught her without a lie ready about...



   

                   

why none of your

things were there.



   

                   

Don't be angry at Patty.

I dragged it out of her.



   

                   

So...



   

                   

this is how you've been

living these last months.



   

                   

This is so, uh...

interesting.



   

                   

Why don't we go somewhere and, uh,

talk about this in a friendly way?



   

                   

Th-There's this place that we

really like. We could take you there.



   

                   

No. No.



   

                   

No, this isn't going to be one

of those feel-good situations.



   

                   

I've seen enough. I'm gonna go home

and break the news to your father.



   

                   

I mean, who knows?

Perhaps he won't even mind.



   

                   

It's our other daughter

he's obsessed with.



   

                   

Oh, before I go,



   

                   

I would really like

to ask you a question.



   

                   

And I-I can't tell you how valuable

an honest response would be to me.



   

                   

She's starting.



   

                   

I have my own theories about this, but

I really would love to hear it from you.



   

                   

Ask away.



   

                   

What do you have against

women your own age?



   

                   

- Mom, please don't.

- Shut up, Harper.



   

                   

Look, I'm smiling.



   

                   

I promise your answer

won't hurt my feelings.



   

                   

- I don't have anything

against women my own age.

- Sure you do.



   

                   

I tell you what --

I'll tell you my theory, and...



   

                   

you just jump in any time.



   

                   

All right?



   

                   

Oh, you can sit.



   

                   

For starters,

I don't really think...



   

                   

that your young girl predilection

has much to do with...



   

                   

their firm, young flesh.



   

                   

I mean, when someone like you

is out with someone like Harper,



   

                   

you must invite all kinds

of comparison and ridicule,



   

                   

which can't be much fun...



   

                   

for either of you.



   

                   

Right, honey?



   

                   

So then, what is...



   

                   

a man of, uh, your age...



   

                   

doing with my

  -year-old daughter?



   

                   

It'd be easy enough to say you're afraid

of mature women, but that's so glib.



   

                   

Afraid of what,

exactly?



   

                   

So I kept thinking.



   

                   

And then it hit me.



   

                   

I know exactly what she has

that I haven't got.



   

                   

Awe.



   

                   

That's it, isn't it?



   

                   

I mean, no real woman --



   

                   

no woman of experience would

ever stand in front of you...



   

                   

with awe in her eyes...



   

                   

and say,

"Wow, look at that man.



   

                   

Look at that bohemian

wedding photographer with...



   

                   

holes in his jeans.



   

                   

Gosh, isn't he something?"



   

                   

No.



   

                   

I mean, it takes

a naive girl for that.



   

                   

It takes Harper for that.



   

                   

So what do you think?



   

                   

Am I right?



   

                   

You're some woman,

Deborah.



   

                   

Mrs. Sloane.



   

                   

I'm Mrs. Sloane.



   

                   

I know what

you're doing,



   

                   

and it makes me sick.



   

                   

Well...



   

                   

that was fun.



   

                   

Actually, I really didn't

enjoy myself all that much.



   

                   

- But I think you did, didn't you?

- What?



   

                   

The shocked way you acted

about your mom being here.



   

                   

It was very convincing.



   

                   

You really had me

going there.



   

                   

It took me a few minutes before

I realized that you'd put your

mother up to the whole thing.



   

                   

You know, it's

amazing, but...



   

                   

when you're in love,

even someone like me...



   

                   

can forget the

most basic truths.



   

                   

Everybody's just a product

of their environment.



   

                   

How could you be

any different...



   

                   

from the ruling class

you come from?



   

                   

Of course, you're a

disingenuous, deceitful,



   

                   

untrustworthy, two-faced

piece of bourgeois trash.



   

                   

It's not your fault.

I don't blame you.



   

                   

But I never want

to see you again, okay?



   

                   

When I get back,

I don't want you here.



   

                   

Connie...



   

                   

Couldn't you find

your suitcase?



   

                   

I didn't look very hard.



   

                   

I'm so happy to see that

four years of reading Chaucer...



   

                   

has prepared you for this

glorious career in food service.



   

                   

Do not be a snob. There's nothing

wrong with honest work, Patty.



   

                   

You hate it.



   

                   

We've got back rent

to pay, all right?



   

                   

- So?

- So I'm doing this.



   

                   

While he's doing what?



   

                   

Please don't join the ranks

of the disapproving.



   

                   

Well, I'm sorry.

I think it's weird.



   

                   

A   -year-old woman

supporting a   -year-old man.



   

                   

Okay, "A", he's not    and "B",

look, I'm not supporting him.



   

                   

I'm temporarily carrying

the burden. You know what?



   

                   

It's sexist of you, and ageist, to

expect he should be doing everything...



   

                   

just because he's

a man and old.



   

                   

Why doesn't he photograph

weddings anymore?



   

                   

There's nothing wrong with

honest work, blah, blah, blah.



   

                   

I just want you

to be happy, Harper.



   

                   

I am happy, Patty.



   

                   

- He's really helping me.

- If you say so.



   

                   

Just stay open to it if

some cute guy shows up...



   

                   

who wants to

lick you all over.



   

                   

- There you go. Enjoy.

- Thanks.



   

                   

Yeah, I noticed

them too.



   

                   

They haven't stopped watching us

since we sat down.



   

                   

- Sweet suffering Jesus.

- Okay, that's horrifying.



   

                   

- Nice you can laugh about it.

- Why?



   

                   

'Cause it bothers you.

I know it does.



   

                   

I know it's not easy

being with me.



   

                   

People are thinking whatever they

think about us. They don't understand.



   

                   

What's not

to understand?



   

                   

You're rich and powerful, and if I suck

your dick, you'll put me in your movie, right?



   

                   

Harper,

I know what I am.



   

                   

I know I'm not the youngest man

in the world or the wealthiest.



   

                   

I know I'm not the

most rational man.



   

                   

And believe it or not, I know

I'm not particularly gorgeous.



   

                   

But I have to believe I'm giving you

something, and that this is good for you.



   

                   

'Cause if it wasn't,

I couldn't stand it.



   

                   

You're the first person who's ever

believed in me even a little bit.



   

                   

Look at everything

I'm learning.



   

                   

- You're doing what you wanna do.

- Of course.



   

                   

You're here of

your own free will.



   

                   

You could leave

any time you wanted.



   

                   

Jesus.



   

                   

What's gotten into you? Just

put me in your movie and shut up.



   

                   

- Thanks.

- And you are particularly gorgeous.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

And --  And I know

I can leave any time.



   

                   

Right.



   

                   

Like I was thinking...



   

                   

that maybe it would be good

if I started looking...



   

                   

for a place of my own

in a few months.



   

                   

Uh-huh.



   

                   

I mean, just something small,

close to your place.



   

                   

No big deal.



   

                   

- Are you upset?

- No.



   

                   

Just the first I've

heard of it, that's all.



   

                   

I mean, it's not like we're breaking up

or anything, right? It's just --



   

                   

It's just a place

I can put all my stuff.



   

                   

You haven't got any stuff.



   

                   

I have stuff.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

Of course.

Wh-Whatever you say.



   

                   

I just --



   

                   

I thought maybe we

could look together.



   

                   

- We can find someplace we both like.

- Sure, sure.



   

                   

Look, I have some things to do.

I'll see you back at home.



   

                   

I thought we were going to Zack's

place, to the book party thing.



   

                   

- We're not going?

- You go.



   

                   

Connie, when I said a few months,

I didn't necessarily mean that.



   

                   

- It might be a year, or I don't know.

- Fine.



   

                   

What you say is fine.



   

                   

There's a review in here of the

Jackson Pollack at the Whitney.



   

                   

I'll see you

at home later on.



   

                   

Hey, fuck you,

motherfucker.



   

                   

Connie?



   

                   

This is why you should

stop drinking, pal.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

- I'll check on him again later.

- Okay.



   

                   

Thanks, Zack.

Bye.



   

                   

You know,



   

                   

I've been thinkin',

Harper.



   

                   

You've been unconscious.



   

                   

Yeah, I know, but...



   

                   

I was thinkin',

what we really need...



   

                   

is to have some fun.



   

                   

You know,

like a lot of fun.



   

                   

This is fun.



   

                   

I have this collector

in Los Angeles...



   

                   

who wants to buy

some photographs.



   

                   

Let's get out of here.



   

                   

Let's pack up and

head off to L.A...



   

                   

for a few days.



   

                   

Okay?



   

                   

Ay, ay, ay, ay



   

                   

Como me gusta



   

                   

Mira, mi amor



   

                   

Yeah, I made a lot of money

in L.A. over the years.



   

                   

In the early '  s, this gallery

on La Cienega that repped me,



   

                   

they couldn't keep

my stuff on the walls.



   

                   

L.A. was good to me.

I'm glad we're going there.



   

                   

Me too.



   

                   

Walter, he's been trying to get me

back down there for years.



   

                   

He'll probably ask us

to stay with him.



   

                   

- Do you think he's going

to buy a lot of pictures?

- Oh, sure.



   

                   

- He's a big collector, Walter.

- Well, that's great.



   

                   

So, you know,

we're going to be rich.



   

                   

Champagne and caviar

for everyone!



   

                   

That's so like you,

Queen Guinevere,



   

                   

sharing the wealth.



   

                   

Well, I have a

royal proclamation.



   

                   

Proceed, Your Royal Highness.

Your loyal subject is all ears.



   

                   

Good, because

when we get to L.A.,



   

                   

I, Queen Guinevere,



   

                   

am going to

stun the world...



   

                   

and take a photograph.

- Jesus Christ.



   

                   

Bravo.

Congratulations.



   

                   

I thank you.



   

                   

And, uh, what are you going to take

a photograph of, Your Highness?



   

                   

You...



   

                   

in a bathing suit, with a surfboard

going, "Surf's up, dude."



   

                   

You'll do that

for me, right?



   

                   

What, you don't approve

of my subject matter?



   

                   

- What is it?

- Um --



   

                   

Are you okay?



   

                   

Connie?



   

                   

Connie, what?



   

                   

Are you sick?



   

                   

Connie. Connie,

what is it?



   

                   

Will you talk

to me, please?



   

                   

What is it?



   

                   

Oh.



   

                   

- Jesus.

- Don't worry. It's okay.



   

                   

It's okay.



   

                   

No, please. Please don't. Don't feel

bad, okay? We'll fix it, all right?



   

                   

We'll go to a dentist. I'm gonna

go look in the phone book now.



   

                   

No money.

I haven't got any money.



   

                   

We'll go to Walter's first and sell

photographs, then we'll go to the dentist.



   

                   

Can't go to

Walter's like this.



   

                   

Don't, Connie.



   

                   

Don't, please?



   

                   

We'll fix it right

here, all right?



   

                   

I'll go get some

money right now.



   

                   

Okay?

Just don't be upset.



   

                   

Just -- You have to --



   

                   

- Give me the camera.

- Oh, God.



   

                   

Just the telephoto.



   

                   

That should be enough.



   

                   

- How are you, Walter?

- Connie?



   

                   

I can't believe this.



   

                   

Oh, boy.



   

                   

My God, I haven't

seen you in ten years.



   

                   

- Looking the worse for wear.

- Hello. I'm Harper.



   

                   

Hello. Well, what a great

surprise. Come on in.



   

                   

Come on.



   

                   

So you were in the

neighborhood, huh?



   

                   

Rebecca's at the store.

She'll be sorry she missed you.



   

                   

You should've called first.



   

                   

You know me. Never know

where I'm gonna show up.



   

                   

- Can I get you two something to drink?

- No, thanks. I'm fine.



   

                   

Sure.

What do you got?



   

                   

Come on

in the kitchen.



   

                   

She's gorgeous!



   

                   

- How the hell do you do it,

you lucky shit?

- Shh, shh.



   

                   

How's life? What brings you

down here to lotus land?



   

                   

Actually, I came down here

to hang a show.



   

                   

- No kidding?

- Mm-hmm.



   

                   

- Bourbon with that?

- Yeah, just a splash.



   

                   

Mmm, yeah, I got an

opening next week...



   

                   

a-at a gallery

on La Cienega.



   

                   

- Good for you.

- Mm-hmm.



    

                   

- All new stuff, or --

- Actually, I got the prints with me.



    

                   

- Do you want to take a look?

- Sure.



    

                   

Let's wait for Rebecca.

She'll be dying to see them.



    

                   

I raised my prices recently,

except for old friends.



    

                   

Oh.



    

                   

I have a book

coming out next year.



    

                   

After that, they're

gonna be worth three --



    

                   

five times what I'm

asking for them now.



    

                   

You know, Connie,



    

                   

Rebecca and me,

we're retired now.



    

                   

We're not much into the

art-buying business anymore.



    

                   

Oh, I mean, your stuff

is great, but, uh,



    

                   

we've already got

three of yours.



    

                   

Walter, uh,



    

                   

I hate to ask you

this, you know.



    

                   

It's not easy for me.



    

                   

Connie, uh, we haven't

seen each other for... ten years?



    

                   

Long time, long time.



    

                   

It's just that my cameras

are in the shop and I can't make

any money until I get them out,



    

                   

and I can't get them out

until I make some money.



    

                   

I'm surprised.

I don't know what to say.



    

                   

It's an unusual

situation for me.



    

                   

- So you couldn't make it to the bank.

- Yeah, that's right.



    

                   

Well, maybe I can help you out

with a little something.



    

                   

How much

did he give us?



    

                   

Forty bucks?



    

                   

Not enough to get home.



    

                   

I guess we will have to

pawn the fucking camera.



    

                   

I never took a picture.



    

                   

You're pawning the camera, and I

never took a single picture, not one.



    

                   

Well... now's

my chance, right?



    

                   

Stop it.



    

                   

Stop it.



    

                   

Stop it, Harper!



    

                   

- Stop it. Harper, stop it.

- Oh, come on, Connie.



    

                   

- Just one finger, just one toe!

- Stop it, stop it!



    

                   

Connie?



    

                   

Yes, baby?



    

                   

I love you so much.



    

                   

I know.



    

                   

I know.



    

                   

I love you too.



    

                   

I love you so much,

I don't know what I'll do.



    

                   

I could use a drink.



    

                   

Me too.



    

                   

There's a liquor store.

Did you see it?



    

                   

- Across the parking lot?

- Uh-huh.



    

                   

Could you run across there

and get us a bottle?



    

                   

Yeah.



    

                   

You want anything else?



    

                   

No.



    

                   

Here.



    

                   

Take your bag.



    

                   

They might want I.D.



    

                   

You know,

you look like a kid.



    

                   

And your jacket.



    

                   

It's cold out there.



    

                   

It's not cold.



    

                   

Go.



    

                   

Come with me.



    

                   

I'll watch.



    

                   

You'll watch me

cross the parking lot?



    

                   

Who wouldn't?



    

                   

No. No.



    

                   

Go on now, Guinevere.



    

                   

Go on.



    

                   

I'm coming right back.



    

                   

I'm gonna go to the liquor store,

then I'm coming right back.



    

                   

Okay.



    

                   

I'll be right here.



    

                   

Connie.



    

                   

Hi.



    

                   

April?



    

                   

Hi, Harper.



    

                   

Come in. The others

are, uh, already here.



    

                   

He's resting.



    

                   

- Harper, hey. How you doin'?

- Billie.



    

                   

- I heard about your photography.

- You did?



    

                   

My dealer knows your dealer, and he says

you're doing a show at Cole-Swensky.



    

                   

- That's so great.

- Thank you.



    

                   

- Do you know Cindy?

- We've actually met before.



    

                   

- Hi.

- I'm over it.



    

                   

- Linda, this is Harper.

- Class of '  .



    

                   

It's good to meet you.



    

                   

So are we all here?

Is this everybody?



    

                   

- We're missing Jessica.

- Pre-Billie, post-me.



    

                   

She's stuck in a shoot

in Alaska, right?



    

                   

- She sent a fish.

- Oh, that was good of her.



    

                   

I found a bottle, and

there's still somethin' in it.



    

                   

Quick, before he crawls out

of bed and grabs it from you.



    

                   

You two are so unkind.

Give me some.



    

                   

I could only get him to

swallow one spoonful of soup.



    

                   

I think on top

of everything,



    

                   

he's a little uneasy about

all of us being here at once.



    

                   

It's not like we're gonna talk

about the size of his dick while

he's dying in the next room.



    

                   

Well, actually, as I recall --



    

                   

What? I was gonna

say something nice.



    

                   

Cheers.



    

                   

He wanted you all here.



    

                   

He asked me to call you.



    

                   

Last week, when I came by

to get the rest of my stuff,



    

                   

I found him on

the floor over there.



    

                   

He looked like he was there for

a while, and he wasn't even conscious.



    

                   

So I, uh, took him

to the hospital,



    

                   

and they checked him over,

and they told me...



    

                   

it was too late

to do anything.



    

                   

Just let him die at home.



    

                   

What does that mean?



    

                   

Die how?



    

                   

I mean, what's

gonna happen?



    

                   

What about after?



    

                   

I don't know how to take care

of him. I have finals next week.



    

                   

He was helping me

with my paintings.



    

                   

He was helping me

with a lot of things,



    

                   

and I really needed

that, you know.



    

                   

Oh, God.



    

                   

I shouldn't

have left him.



    

                   

It was hard, but I

could have stayed.



    

                   

He only wanted five years.



    

                   

Don't worry, April.



    

                   

He got a lot

more than that.



    

                   

I wonder who

was his favorite.



    

                   

- I think it was April.

- Definitely April.



    

                   

- Cheers.

- Cheers.



    

                   

We know, sweetie.

We know.



    

                   

Poor baby.



    

                   

- Are you sure you wanna stay?

- Yeah.



    

                   

Well... we said

our good-byes.



    

                   

I gave him a blow job.



    

                   

I'm just kidding.



    

                   

I have to

get back to Ed.



    

                   

Okay. Sleep well,

all right?



    

                   

Yeah. Call me if

anything happens, okay?



    

                   

Yeah, I will.



    

                   

- Thanks.

- Okay. Take care.



    

                   

Okay. You too.



    

                   

Hello, Guinevere.



    

                   

- I have something for you.

- What is it?



    

                   

It's your life's work.



    

                   

Don't have a heart attack, but we

thought we'd give you one last look.



    

                   

It's from all

the Guineveres.



    

                   

Thank you.



    

                   

I wanted to talk

to you about April.



    

                   

I wanted to ask you if you could

keep her on the right track,



    

                   

make sure she doesn't

start painting fruit bowls.



    

                   

I'll look after her.



    

                   

And get her to read...



    

                   

the fundamental works.



    

                   

She doesn't like to read.



    

                   

Is there anything else?



    

                   

Um, my negatives.



    

                   

There's a few

thousand of them.



    

                   

Are there any instructions on

how you want them printed?



    

                   

Instructions?



    

                   

For you?



    

                   

You don't need

instructions.



    

                   

I've been finding that

dying is a hell of a time...



    

                   

not to believe in God.



    

                   

You can laugh

if you want.



    

                   

I've, uh -- I've been

trying to picture...



    

                   

what it's going to

be like at the end.



    

                   

I was wondering if you could

give me some kind of an image.



    

                   

You've always

been good at that.



    

                   

I mean, wh --

like what? Um --



    

                   

Are there going to be dancing girls

singing "The International"?



    

                   

Whatever you like.



    

                   

Connie, this, uh --



    

                   

this isn't easy for me.



    

                   

I mean, two years ago --



    

                   

even, uh --

even one year ago,



    

                   

I couldn't have come.



    

                   

It's taken me four years

to get here.



    

                   

Do you understand?



    

                   

I understand, Harper.



    

                   

It's taken me four years

to get here too.



    

                   

Okay.



    

                   

Okay, Connie.



    

                   

You want me to give you an image?

Here's what I'll do for you.



    

                   

I'll make it the

Connie special.



    

                   

You'll find yourself

down in your hallway,



    

                   

only it's much brighter and cleaner

than you've ever seen it before.



    

                   

And you feel yourself

starting to float.



    

                   

And let's see. I don't want you

to be lonely in there, so...



    

                   

you look to the side, and

there's Linda dancing and smiling...



    

                   

as you glide past.



    

                   

Okay, I know it's corny,

but you asked for it,



    

                   

and I'm here to please.



    

                   

So you keep floating

down your hallway,



    

                   

and a little further down,

there's Billie.



    

                   

She's taken her long hair

out of those braids of hers

and she's waving good-bye.



    

                   

You see?

Dying really isn't so bad.



    

                   

And you're feeling pretty good

about yourself when Cindy appears.



    

                   

All is forgiven.

Well, wait a minute.



    

                   

I think she just said,

"Kiss my ass".



    

                   

Now you turn your

head to the left,



    

                   

and there's the seamstress

you never thought I knew about.



    

                   

I bet you're picturing her naked.

You're so predictable.



    

                   

And now you turn your head

to the right, and there I am.



    

                   

Of course I look

unspeakably beautiful.



    

                   

"I loved you the best",

you call out as you pass by me.



    

                   

And I blow you a kiss.



    

                   

Now you're almost

at the end of the hallway.



    

                   

Do you see April?

She's still crying, the poor thing.



    

                   

Well, we all did that for a while,

but that's another story.



    

                   

And now you've reached

the end of the hallway.



    

                   

What do you think

is waiting for you, Connie?



    

                   

Is it heaven,

or is it hell?



    

                   

It's a beautiful   -year-old girl

with an overbite.



    

                   

You know the type,

and she's waiting for you.



    

                   

And just as you reach your

hand out to touch her cheek,



    

                   

you see that what

she's holding is a camera.



    

                   

And as she lifts it

to her face, guess what?



    

                   

It's your old F- 



    

                   

the one you left at the pawn shop

too long and thought was gone forever.



    

                   

But now this

pretty girl has it,



    

                   

and she's turning it on you.



    

                   

"Smile", she says,



    

                   

and you do.



    

                   

And suddenly the flash goes off

with a brilliant white burst of light,



    

                   

the brightest, purest light

you've ever seen.



    

                   

And that will be all.











 

  

  

 
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