The Killing Of John Lennon Script - Dialogue Transcript

The Killing Of John Lennon Script

  
  
There was no emotion
in my blood.

  
There was no anger.
There was nothing.

  
It was dead silence in my brain.

  
Dead, cold quiet.

  
He looked at me,
he walked past me,

  
and then I heard my head.

  
It said,
"Do it, do it, do it, do it",

  
over and over again.

  
The "Catcher in the Rye"
of my generation.

  
Chapter 27.

  
My whole life
has pointed in one direction.

  
I can see that now.

  
There's never been
any choice for me.

  
You never find your identity
by looking for it.

  
They say the United States
has had its day in the sun,

  
that our nation
has passed its zenith.

  
They expect you
to tell your children

  
that the American people no longer
have the will to cope with their problems,

  
that the future will be one
of sacrifice and few opportunities.

  
My fellow citizens,
I utterly reject that view.

  
- Hey, man, you're late.
- I thought you weren't in till Monday.

  
The boss called. Arthur's ill.
The new guy ain't here yet.

  
You're kidding.
It's almost 11:30.

  
I know.
I've been here since seven.

  
...will get things under way
there in the music hall.

  
What's going on over there?

  
Someone jammed gum in the locks.

  
- Animals.
- That's what I said.

  
...election day.

  
Before going to the polls,
voters want to understand the issues.

  
- Have you called in?
- It's all yours.

  
Voters will have an opportunity

  
to see and hear the major-party
candidates for the presidency

  
state their views
on issues that affect us all.

  
The candidates will debate
questions on domestic, economic,

  
foreign-policy
and national-security issues.

  
The questions are going to be posed

  
by a panel of distinguished journalists
who are here with me.

  
They are: Marvin Stone...

  
Yes, hello?

  
Hello?

  
Bang, bang.
You're dead.

  
Hello?

  
12 hours of work
and I still can't sleep.

  
The days go on and on,

  
and they don't end.

  
My body fights me always.

  
It won't sleep, it won't eat.

  
The headaches are getting worse.

  
Thank you.

  
Hey. Mark.

  
- Hey.
- What are you doing?

  
Well, it's very nice
to see you too, Mark.

  
- Everything OK over here?
- Oh, yeah, sure. Fine.

  
This is Makana.
Makana, this is Mark. Mark is an old...

  
- I'm her son.
- Oh, you!

  
Oh, don't listen to him.

  
I was never much of a mother to him. We
were more like best friends. Weren't we?

  
Mind you, where we come from,
that can be one and the same.

  
Makana's gonna take me surfing.

  
Bye.

  
My mother
was a dreamer, moody,

  
right out of "The Glass Menagerie".

  
She was afraid of getting old and said
she'd commit suicide when she turned 50.

  
She felt romantic
about Charles Boyer,

  
but remote from my father.

  
I don't think
I ever hugged my father.

  
He never told me he loved me
and he never said he was sorry.

  
My mother always said
he couldn't show these kinds of things,

  
couldn't show
any kind of emotional love.

  
One time, he pushed my head
in a plate of spaghetti.

  
Sometimes I fantasised about
getting a gun and blowing him away.

  
She said she only married him
to have me.

  
Normal kids don't grow up
to shoot ex-Beatles.

  
All my life needed
was a sense of someplace to go.

  
I don't believe you should devote your life
to morbid self-attention.

  
I believe that one should
become a person like other people.

  
I was starting to hate people.

  
The slightest rebuff or rejection
would send me into a frenzy.

  
Bang, bang.
You're dead.

  
Bang, bang.

  
You're dead.

  
I began withdrawing
from the world.

  
I was losing
everything I cared about.

  
You know,
things used to be OK.

  
I just don't know
if I can keep up, OK?

  
If I can keep up with everything.

  
Everything. You know?

  
You, Mom, my job.

  
I can't come down.
In my head, I can't come down.

  
I feel like a victim right now, OK? I just
feel like I have no control over my world.

  
Over our world -
the world I want to give you.

  
I need you to understand.
Do you understand?

  
- Yes.
- Understand me. Please!

  
- We know it's you.
- Yeah?

  
- If you persist in...
- Oh, come on.

  
If you persist in harassing us,
you'll be served a restraining order.

  
What do you think this is?
You get people to buy into this,

  
then screw their savings and force them
to take a second mortgage.

  
- This is your last warning.
- God forbids man to destroy his own kind.

  
- Correct.
- To destroy the sanity of another.

  
To destroy or enslave another soul.

  
If you persist, we'll call the police
and then phone the medical authorities.

  
I'm sure you don't want to
go back to the hospital.

  
Castle Memorial
Mental Health Clinic.

  
June 21, 1977.

  
A science-fiction writer
is not a god.

  
You're not a religion.

  
My life was either happiness
or despair.

  
I had no stable sense
of self-esteem.

  
I felt I was nothing,

  
a nobody.

  
I took refuge in public places.

  
I loved the library.

  
I loved the smell of books.

  
All that learning -

  
it's the essence
of something orderly.

  
Miss Blakeslee taught me
the value of books -

  
Thurber, Ogden Nash.

  
Once a month, she brought us in
and taught us how to use the library.

  
I volunteered as an assistant.

  
Things you like as a child
stay with you for life.

  
I was searching for
some kind of guidance, a mission,

  
and, for my sins,
I found one.

  
I hadn't read it since I was 16.

  
Now it burned in my hand.

  
It was like a current
passing through my body

  
and lighting up
all the cells in my brain.

  
Here was something
I could identify with,

  
an unphoney way of life.

  
And the more I read,
the more I saw myself in its pages.

  
I was actually becoming its hero,

  
Holden Caulfield.

  
I started reading "The Catcher in the Rye".
I couldn't put it down until I got to the end.

  
And then I read it again.

  
And I held it between my hands and put it
against my face and I inhaled deeply.

  
I read it again, drinking in
the aroma of that faintly antiseptic smell...

  
..against my face...
..through my nostrils and my skin.

  
..drinking in the aroma
of that faintly antiseptic smell...

  
..through my nostrils and my skin.
A way to live an honest life,

  
an unphoney a way of life,
a way that I can identify with.

  
I remember
my mind is dishevelled.

  
It's ripped and torn. There is a tornado
in my mind, circling around my brain.

  
Bits and pieces
crashing into the walls.

  
A debris.
Broken things, cloudy things,

  
things I can 't see.

  
- Well?
- I don't see much point in it.

  
This is one of the most brilliant
studies of adolescence ever written.

  
He sounds a mess to me.

  
Of course he's a mess.
But he realises he's a mess.

  
He tries to express what he feels.

  
He's a human being,
for all his faults.

  
- I don't like the way he talks.
- I don't like the way you talk, but I listen.

  
I suppose it's very clever,
the way he writes and all.

  
Gloria, I gave you the book because
I thought you would identify with him.

  
With me.
I'm Holden Caulfield.

  
He doesn't fit anywhere,
and I don't.

  
- Don't you even read books?
- I read books.

  
No, not magazines and travel brochures
and books about Japan, but real books -

  
real books
with emotions and real people.

  
Yes, I do, actually. And who says
Japan doesn't have real people?

  
Well, Japan...
You know what I mean.

  
That's... You need to understand The
Catcher. You need to understand Holden.

  
If you understand Holden...
How are you gonna understand me?

  
Real books. I'm talking about
art and literature and, you know...

  
- things that people read.
- Don't be so arrogant.

  
Don't you even feel sorry for him?

  
I was identifying with a 16-year-old boy
in a book in New York City,

  
and here I am, a 25-year-old man in Hawaii
who is married.

  
- Hi.
- Hi.

  
I'm Holden Caulfield.
He doesn't fit anywhere, and I don't.

  
- Hi. Take a deep breath.
- I know. Sometimes I get aggravated.

  
OK. It's all right. It's OK.

  
It was a statement.

  
"Here is my identity."

  
"Here is where my pain is."

  
"l keep picturing all these little kids
playing some game

  
in this big field of rye and all."

  
"Thousands of little kids,

  
and nobody's around -
nobody big, I mean - except me."

  
"And I'm standing
at the edge of this crazy cliff."

  
"What I have to do,
I have to catch everybody

  
if they start to go over the cliff - I mean
if they don't look where they're going

  
I have to come out from somewhere
and catch them."

  
"That's all I'll do all day."

  
"I'd just stand there
and be the catcher in the rye and all."

  
"l know it's crazy, but that's
the only thing I'd really like to be."

  
"l know it's crazy."

  
Chapter 22.

  
Page 173.

  
Then I found another book.

  
Just as Holden Caulfield
had bled through the ink of "Catcher",

  
John Lennon
now entered my mind.

  
There was John Lennon
on the cover.

  
He was on Liberty lsland,
where the statue of Liberty is.

  
He was at the base of the Statue of Liberty
with his glasses and cap,

  
with the scarf around his neck,

  
having his photograph taken.

  
I looked at the pictures
of John Lennon

  
on the gabled roof
of the Dakota building in New York.

  
Those photographs of him on the roof
entered my mind

  
and they took on
a life of their own.

  
And at some point,
after looking at those pictures,

  
I became enraged at him.

  
Something inside me just broke.

  
The great John Lennon,

  
who'd told us to imagine no possessions,
and there he was with millions of dollars,

  
and yachts and farms
and country estates,

  
Iaughing at people like me
who believed all the lies

  
and bought all the records.

  
It reeked of phoneyness.

  
Confirmation.

  
As soon as I saw that picture,

  
I knew I was going to kill him.

  
It was like
I had been handed something.

  
A solution.

  
For the first time in years,
all my thoughts were synchronised.

  
It's what Holden
had fantasised about in the book -

  
killing the big fat guy
in the hotel,

  
the pimp, the phoney.

  
- All done for the morning, sir?
- All through.

  
- Yeah? Pretty rough night?
- Oh, you know. The usual.

  
Yeah?

  
Yeah.

  
Well, you have yourself
a good morning.

  
- You too.
- Bye.

  
I'd found my identity,
but I had lost my life.

  
Mark!

  
Mark! Mark!

  
I'd sit up all night
and play Beatles records,

  
speeding them up,
slowing them down,

  
interjecting my own words.

  
I would strip naked,
gritting my teeth

  
and summoning the devil
and wild things in my mind.

  
I was sending out telegrams
to Satan.

  
"Give me the opportunity
to kill John Lennon."

  
I'm 25 years old.
I've made a decision.

  
My decision
is I'm gonna go travel.

  
You're going to abandon
your wife and your mother

  
and go thousands of miles away,
and you wanna start with New York City?

  
- It's always about you.
- It's not about me. This is about you.

  
You're the one
who married a little helpless girl,

  
and now you're gonna go away
and leave her - leave her under my care.

  
Gloria is not under your care and Gloria
is not helpless. And neither are you.

  
So you take care of you
and Gloria will be fine on her own,

  
and I'll be back
before you know it.

  
- I'm not buying it.
- Well, you don't have to buy it.

  
I know when you are lying to me.
Now, if there is a real reason

  
why you feel the need
to go back to New York City,

  
I want you to tell it to me
right now.

  
My decision
is I'm gonna go travel.

  
- I don't understand the whole thing. I...
- You don't have to understand!

  
OK? I am just doing
what I want to do.

  
You don't need to understand
everything that I do.

  
"The phoney must die",
says "The Catcher in the Rye".

  
"The phoney must die",
says "The Catcher in the Rye".

  
- Can I help?
- I need something for protection at home.

  
- OK. Anything in mind?
- What would you suggest?

  
Well, if you get a.22 and a burglar
comes in, he's just gonna laugh at you.

  
Handy little gun, it's fast,
but don't do much damage.

  
But if you get a.38,

  
nobody's gonna laugh at you.

  
A fine, solid gun.
Blue steel, snub nose,

  
otherwise the same
as a police service revolver.

  
Now, that will stop anything that moves
and it's handy, flexible,

  
it's lightweight,
reliable.

  
You know, some of these guns
are like toys, but a Smith & Wesson,

  
you can hit somebody over the head
with it and it'll still come back dead on.

  
You can't beat quality.

  
Are you interested in an automatic?

  
How much?

  
With specialised grips,

  
169.

  
OK. I'll take it.

  
Hi. I'd like a ticket to New York.

  
One-way.

  
So long as you fill out a form and
the firearm and ammunition are separate.

  
- And where do I get that form?
- At the check-in.

  
But the gun has to be in your luggage.
You can't take it on board.

  
- And that's it?
- That's it.

  
- Thank you very much.
- Have a good flight.

  
There's a smell in New York.

  
It's a scary smell and a cold smell
and I'm frightened,

  
frightened of someone
finding out my secret.

  
Gonna be in town long?

  
You ever been to the city?

  
Where are you from, bud?

  
They don't have traffic like this
on main street where you live, huh?

  
Have you stopped
to see Central Park yet?

  
It's great this time of the year.

  
A lot of snow.

  
Take me where the freaks are.

  
You are where the freaks are.

  
New York is all freaks.
You're in Times Square.

  
This is about as big as a freak section
as you're gonna get.

  
Have you ever seen
John Lennon?

  
Yeah. He's around.

  
Seen him in town.

  
He lives up ahead here.

  
Matter of fact,
he lives up by 72nd.

  
Oh, yeah.
The Dakota, right?

  
Right up... That's right.
You knew that, huh?

  
It's right up near 72nd.
We'll be passing it in a minute.

  
He's kind of a phoney, isn't he?

  
That all depends.

  
On what?

  
On his music
or his personality.

  
Maybe a little of both.

  
I guess you could say that.

  
You don't like music?

  
I did once.

  
What happened?

  
I found something else.

  
Yeah, that happens, you know?

  
- How much did you say it was?
- 15.

  
- Here's 20.
- Happy holidays.

  
I checked into
the Waldorf Astoria.

  
Just like Holden.

  
I was like a boxer
in the 27th round,

  
all bloody and beaten.

  
It's what Holden
had fantasised about in the book -

  
killing the big fat guy
in the hotel,

  
the pimp, the phoney.

  
...tonight, live.

  
If you've been
anywhere near a television,

  
you already know
that John Lennon of the Beatles is dead.

  
Something's
gonna be happening soon.

  
You're gonna hear about me.

  
Are you, uh...
are you famous or something?

  
Oh, no, no.
I'm not famous.

  
I just want you to be aware
that something's gonna be happening.

  
Here, turn left here, at 72nd.

  
- John Lennon lives right there.
- Oh, yeah?

  
You can just pull over right up here,
right around the...

  
- OK.
- Right around that truck will be fine.

  
OK, let's see. Uh...

  
$7.80.

  
You got it, sir.
How's that?

  
That's fine. Listen,
you have a nice time in New York City.

  
- You too. It was a pleasure meeting you.
- Pleasure meeting you too.

  
All right.

  
Strange guy.

  
- Thi... this is the Dakota, right?
- Yep.

  
- Where John Lennon lives?
- Yes, sir.

  
Wow. I can't believe I'm really standing
here, right outside where he lives.

  
Sixth floor, right? Robert Ryan's
old apartment. Can you see it?

  
Not from here.
Not from here, you can't.

  
Rosemary's Baby was shot here,
wasn't it?

  
I don't know.
That's what they say.

  
So is, uh...
is John in town?

  
I don't know, man.
I don't think so. I haven't seen him.

  
I think he's travelling
or something.

  
I'm from Hawaii.

  
Really? That's a pretty strong accent
you got there from Hawaii.

  
I cased the whole building,

  
walked all the way around it twice,

  
just like an assassin would.

  
When we first moved here,
we lived in Greenwich Village,

  
which is the arty-farty section of town,
for those who don't know,

  
where all the students and the would-bes
live, and a few old poets and that.

  
She told me, "Yes,
you can walk on the street", you know,

  
and it took me two years to unwind.

  
Shooting a man
is no easy thing.

  
It takes a lot of inner strength.

  
I can go right out this door now
and go in a restaurant.

  
You want to know
how great that is?

  
Or go to the movies. I mean, people
come up and ask for autographs or say hi,

  
but they won't bug you,
you know?

  
Don't forget what the Beatles have
said. Take your records and paraphernalia

  
to any one of our 14 pick-up points
in Birmingham, Alabama,

  
and turn 'em in this week
if possible.

  
I'd found my identity,
but I had lost my life.

  
"The phoney must die",
says The Catcher in the Rye.

  
"The phoney must die",
says "The Catcher in the Rye".

  
"The phoney must die",
says The Catcher in the Rye.

  
Robert De Niro
in "Raging Bull".

  
Let's hear it for the great Jake La Motta,
ladies and gentlemen.

  
He was a fighter.

  
Why does he have to make it
so hard on himself?

  
A winner.
A loser.

  
I've done
a lot of bad things, Joey.

  
In this typical town,

  
in this comfortable home,

  
three ordinary people

  
are about to live
an extraordinary story.

  
I used to figure you had
a handle for everything. You knew it all.

  
I know that wasn't fair, but you made us
feel like everything was gonna be all right.

  
I really admire you for it.

  
Well, don't admire people too much.

  
They'll disappoint you sometimes.

  
I love you.

  
I love you too.

  
I had an experience
in that theatre.

  
Somehow, in that brief time, my rage
against John Lennon was defeated.

  
The volcano was capped.

  
I realised I had a wife at home
who loved me.

  
Gloria, hi. It's me.

  
I'm coming home.

  
I've won a great victory.

  
Your love has saved me.

  
I was gonna kill him,
but your love saved me.

  
You know what I'm talking about.

  
Gloria, listen. Just listen.

  
I was gonna kill...

  
John Lennon,

  
but our paths didn't cross.

  
You don't believe me.

  
I even got to know the doorman
where Lennon lives.

  
I could've done it.
Your love has saved me, Gloria.

  
I just wanna come back home to you.
No one else. There's no one else.

  
I made such a big mistake
coming here.

  
But I could've done it.

  
I really could've done it.

  
I lied to my wife.

  
I told her I threw away the gun
in the ocean, which I didn't.

  
I told her it was over.

  
And it wasn't.

  
16 days later, I was back.

  
I told my wife
I was going to find a new career.

  
Heavenly treasures
are what the spirit of God gives.

  
And so the poor people are also...
They have the spirit of God in them.

  
No, that's what I'm saying.

  
That's what the Antichrist said.

  
Hi. You gals
waiting for somebody?

  
As a matter of fact,
we were waiting for you.

  
It wasn't worth it.

  
I'm sorry.
We're only teasing.

  
I'm Jude. This is Jeryl.

  
Oh.

  
I know. I heard John Lennon lives here.
I was hoping to get his autograph.

  
- Is he around? Have you seen him?
- Um, no, but he's somewhere in the city.

  
Good.

  
I'm from Hawaii.

  
You came all the way from Hawaii
to see John?

  
- I'm a big fan.
- You must be.

  
Well, I'm also here on business.
I just thought I'd take a look.

  
Well, Jeryl and l
are considered family.

  
Yeah, so much so
that John and Yoko call us by name.

  
Sometimes they stop us on the street
to have a chat.

  
Wow.
I just want an autograph.

  
Oh, I should have brought
a book or something.

  
Oh. Why don't you get
Double Fantasy?

  
Even if you don't get an autograph,
it's a great album.

  
Yeah, maybe I'll do that.
They'd never believe it back home.

  
Uh... OK, we're going to go get something
to eat now, so it was nice meeting you.

  
- I'll be here until at least midnight.
- We'll see you later then.

  
Maybe we can all
have dinner tonight. My treat.

  
Do you like Japanese?

  
"He was so nice.
I just can't believe he was the one."

  
The more I found out,
the more angry I became.

  
The guy owned five luxury apartments
in the Dakota,

  
four farms in Virginia, Vermont
and upstate New York,

  
250 head of prize Holstein cattle

  
worth more than $100,000 each,

  
a vast weekend home in Florida,

  
a 63ft ocean-going yacht.

  
This from a man
who told us to imagine no possessions.

  
When I heard the homos next door,
I flew into a rage inside myself.

  
They disgusted me.

  
Travis was right. One day a real rain 'll
come and wash all the scum off the street.

  
Freeze! Police!

  
George C Scott,

  
Johnny Carson,

  
Jackie Onassis.

  
On the streets,
among all the freaks and queers

  
and bums and whores,

  
I knew Holden was right.

  
It was all very clear.

  
Here is a little man
who has nothing,

  
going against a giant phoney.

  
I wanted to
go and shoot 'em all,

  
and I almost did.

  
But what glory is there
in killing unknowns?

  
In the book, Holden checked out of
his miserable room in a cheap hotel.

  
My $16-a-night YMCA
full of queers

  
now became room at the Sheraton.

  
Hell to heaven in a cab ride.
  
Hey, Trina.

  
I could've killed those queers.

  
Yeah, listen, I could use
a quick 50. Got a commuter for me?

  
I could spend the evening with you, if...

  
if you'd like that. Hm?

  
Have you ever been with a woman before,
paying her?

  
Do you like it?

  
I mean, I have the feeling that
that turns you on very particularly.

  
What turns me on is because
I have a good imagination and I like it.

  
Pleasing.

  
Do you mind
if I take my sweater off?

  
Well, I think in the confines
of one's house, one should be free,

  
of clothing and inhibitions.

  
Oh, inhibitions are always nice
because they're so nice to overcome.

  
Hi. I'd Iike an escort
for the evening.

  
Yes. Someone foreign.

  
Do you have any foreign women?

  
Someone exotic.
I'd Iike someone from another country.

  
Good.

  
But she's gotta be quiet.

  
If she doesn't talk,
I will tip her very well.

  
OK?

  
I'm at the Sheraton Hotel,
room 2730.

  
Caulfield.

  
Holden Caulfield.

  
"l kept walking around the room,
waiting for this prostitute to show up."

  
"l kept hoping she'd be good-looking.
I didn't care too much, though."

  
"l sort ofjust wanted
to get it over with."

  
"l was starting to feel pretty sexy and all,
but I was a little nervous anyway."

  
"Finally,
somebody knocked on the door."

  
Hi. I'm Pia.

  
Thank you for coming.

  
You can relax.
I'm not kinky.

  
I'm clean.
I'm not weird.

  
In fact, I'm not even
all that interested in sex.

  
I just wanna be
in the company of a woman tonight.

  
I'm expecting that tomorrow
will be a very difficult day for me.

  
- Would you Iike a drink?
- Uh, I don't drink.

  
Well, tonight's your night off.
We can do whatever you want.

  
Take your dress off.

  
Um... turn on the radio.

  
I think somebody saw me
come in the room. I don't...

  
- I don't want jail.
- Of course.

  
Would you Iike a massage?

  
Sure. Why not?

  
A real man
doesn't have to take from a woman.

  
A real man
doesn't have to use a woman.

  
He can give.

  
He can give.

  
Thank you.

  
I woke up knowing somehow
that this was the day,

  
that when I left that room,

  
that would be the last time
I would see the room again.

  
I had never seen John Lennon
up to that point.

  
I only knew
that he was in the Dakota,

  
but I somehow knew
that this was it.

  
This was the day.

  
I'm Holden Caulfield.

  
I am Holden Caulfield.

  
I am Holden Caulfield.

  
Hello. I'm Holden Caulfield.

  
I'm Holden Caulfield.

  
So I laid out on the dresser a tableau of
everything that was important in my life,

  
so it would say,
"Look, this is me."

  
"This is my past,
and I'm going - gone - to another place."

  
I practised what it was gonna look like
when the police came into the room.

  
It was like going through a door, and
I knew I was going to go through a door.

  
The poet's door.
William Blake's door.

  
Jim Morrison's door.

  
It was like
I was going through a giant door,

  
and I was.

  
I was leaving my past.

  
My very soul was breathing between
the pages of "The Catcher in the Rye".

  
Give me the strength.

  
Please,
give me the strength to do it.

  
It has to be done.

  
Please give me the strength.

  
The phoneys have to know.

  
- Hey, man. How's it going?
- How's it going?

  
- AII right. Are you staying warm out here?
- Trying.

  
- Have you seen anybody today?
- No, I haven't.

  
- No? Been quiet?
- Yeah. Nobody's come out.

  
- Jose. Hey, man.
- Hey. What's going on?

  
- How are you? Hi. I'm Mark.
- I'm Paul.

  
- How are you?
- AII right. How are you?

  
- So have you guys seen Lennon yet?
- No.

  
- No, we were just talking about that.
- He hasn't been out.

  
- You're a photographer.
- Oh, yeah.

  
- Do you get pictures of him?
- Yeah, all the time.

  
- That's great.
- Yeah, it's pretty cool.

  
So, uh, are you new in town?

  
Uh... Yeah, I'm on vacation.
I'm, uh...

  
I'm from Hawaii.
Honolulu.

  
- Really?
- Yeah.

  
I didn't realise people from Honolulu
had a Southern drawl.

  
- Where are you staying in New York?
- Why? What do you want to know for?

  
Don't walk away.
Why do you want to know?

  
Easy, man. Take it easy.
I was only making conversation.

  
You're the one who started it.

  
AII right?

  
Sorry.

  
That was weird.

  
Yeah. That's New York.

  
Well, it, uh...

  
Looks Iike it's down to
us die-hard Beatleholics now.

  
Look, I'm sorry
if I came on a Iittle strong.

  
I've been standing out here
for nearly three days now.

  
You strike up a conversation Iike I'm your
Iong-Iost cousin, then you get all hostile.

  
I'm bored
and I'm far away from home,

  
so I try to talk to people
for a Iittle companionship.

  
I'm tired, so I guess
that's why I flew off the handle.

  
I'm sorry, OK?

  
AII right.

  
Hey, relax. No one's gonna
steal your album around here.

  
- Do you get a Iot of shots of John?
- Oh, yeah. AII the time.

  
Hey, here he comes.

  
Thanks, John.

  
- Anything else?
- Thanks.

  
- You're welcome.
- Thanks, John.

  
Oh, you Iucked out big time.
That's pretty special.

  
Big stars don't usually put the date.
That's a collector's item.

  
You know,
wait until they see this back in Hawaii.

  
- Did you get any of me?
- I think so.

  
I'II give you anything
for that picture. Anything.

  
Did I have my hat on
or was it off?

  
I don't want to be next to John Lennon
with this stupid hat on. Was it on or off?

  
- I think it was on.
- Shit!

  
Listen, is there any way
you could get me that picture tonight?

  
- I'II give you $50 for it.
- I Iive in New Jersey.

  
OK, meet me here tomorrow
and I'II give you 50. Deal?

  
OK.

  
Jesus!

  
Wait until they see that picture
back in Hawaii.

  
You know, me,
standing next to John Lennon.

  
That's it. I'm gone. Good Iuck.

  
I'm staying at the Sheraton.

  
Like I said, you can't be too careful,
especially in a city Iike this.

  
You never know
who you're talking to.

  
I'm not from Hawaii.
I'm from Georgia.

  
I grew up just outside Atlanta,
in Decatur, Georgia.

  
I've travelled around the world,
but Hawaii's the place I belong.

  
I probably wouldn't be alive
if I hadn't moved there.

  
You wouldn't believe what I went there for.
I've Iived an ironical Iife.

  
- I'II be back tomorrow night.
- You ought to wait.

  
I mean,
they'II be back before midnight.

  
Look, you got your autograph from John.
Give it up for the day and get some rest.

  
No. I'm gonna get Yoko's.

  
Hey, you know, why don't I take your
picture with him when he comes back?

  
I know about cameras.
I've used them before.

  
I see John all the time. I can get my
picture taken any time. I'm going home.

  
Well, suppose you don't see him again?

  
Mr Lennon?

  
John!

  
- Go! Go! Get out of here!
- But where would I go?

  
I don't know.

  
It was like a movie.

  
It was like I was in a movie.

  
I got a gun,
I got hollow-point bullets.

  
I thought he would just drop
right in front of me and that was it.

  
I thought he was just gonna fall down,
like in the movies.

  
Fall down dead.

  
Freeze! Police!
Hands on your head!

  
Do it! Do it now!

  
Don't move!

  
He shot John Lennon!

  
Come on, man.

  
Hold on.

  
Come on, John.
Hold in there.

  
Yeah, yeah, yeah. OK.

  
Come on. Hold on! Come on.

  
Come on.

  
Hang in there.

  
Come on. Come on!

  
Please, don't hurt me.

  
I murdered a man,
but not only did I fall,

  
I took a lot more with me
than just myself.

  
A whole era ended.
It was the last nail in the coffin of the '60s.

  
He was brought to
the emergency room shortly before 11pm.

  
He was dead on arrival.

  
...tonight, live.

  
If you've been anywhere near a television
set or a radio these past few hours,

  
you already know
that John Lennon of the Beatles is dead.

  
He's not dead.
John Lennon can't be dead.

  
The suspect at this time is...

  
First of all, his identity.
25-year-old Mark David Chapman.

  
He comes from Hawaii. Police tell me he's
been in the New York area about a week,

  
and began to hang around the apartment
over the weekend, asking about Lennon.

  
He apparently ran into him for the
first time this evening, about five o'clock,

  
asking Lennon for his autograph.

  
Lennon gave it to him
on the jacket cover of a record.

  
Lennon went off
to a recording session,

  
and we are told that Chapman remained
at the hotel until Mr Lennon returned,

  
about eleven o'clock this evening.

  
Police officials
describe what happened this way.

  
They say that Chapman came up
from behind, yelled out Mr Lennon's name

  
and emptied a.38 revolver.

  
There were at least
five shots spent.

  
There is very little known
about 25-year-old Chapman.

  
He has been taken
to the 20th Police Precinct, fingerprinted.

  
They're checking for prior arrest records,
also for a motive. They don't have any yet.

  
They charged him officially with murder,
but the reason for this attack, unknown.

  
Have a seat.

  
OK. Calm down, all right?

  
I'm going to take off your cuffs,
make you a Iittle more comfortable.

  
- State your name.
- Mark David Chapman.

  
- Your age.
- 25.

  
- Your address.
- 55 Kukui Street, Honolulu, Hawaii.

  
OK, do me a favour and stand up.
I just want to check your pockets.

  
What have we got?

  
Have a seat, all right?

  
I remember a lot of pain and
confusion when I dictated the statement.

  
I was in a very unreal,
very surreal world.

  
I was in an utter panic
of sheer terror

  
and wanted things to go back to the way
they were before I had pulled the trigger.

  
I felt anger spreading over my mind
as I was dictating the statement

  
and talking about
"Catcher in the Rye ",

  
Iike I was being sucked into a giant wave
that I couldn't swim out of

  
or even come up for air.

  
I didn't want to kill anybody,

  
and I really don't know
why I did it.

  
I asked God to help me,

  
but we're all responsible
for our own actions.

  
I came to New York
five weeks ago.

  
I stayed at the YMCA
on 62nd Street.

  
Mourners began gathering
soon after the news of Lennon's death

  
and there are easily now
a thousand mourners

  
who've come
to pay tribute to him.

  
At the beginning, it was
a very solemn vigil. Many held candles...

  
There were
up to a thousand admirers at one time.

  
Lennon's wife, Yoko Ono,
at one time sent a message down

  
asking the mourners to disperse,
and most of them did,

  
but they are starting to return again,
playing the familiar songs

  
that are so connected
with John Lennon,

  
and some also
for the Beatles as a group.

  
The feeling is of tremendous loss,
and these people feel it very personally.

  
The profound loss to the music world
is yet to be accounted for.

  
Come on, Iook alive.
Let's get going. Move it.

  
Get me a vest.

  
Hold him up, right here.

  
- Get the vest on him.
- Take your glasses off.

  
Hold your hands up.

  
I'm not gonna have Jack Ruby kill you
in my station house, you understand?

  
Come on. Secure that.

  
Listen up. We've got the man
who shot John Lennon here.

  
I don't want any Oswalds,
you got it?

  
- Give me a coat.
- Get him a coat.

  
No fuck-ups.
You understand me?

  
Are you ready?
Move.

  
Get the door.

  
Move it up. AII right, Iet's go.

  
Jesus Christ! Get them the fuck...
Get them back. Let's go.

  
Move the fuck back. Let's go.

  
I remember,
from the darkness inside the coat,

  
a tremendous tumult occurring as
we walked from one door to another door.

  
Let's go. Down the stairs.
In the bathroom!

  
I looked down,
and the ground was lit up by white light.

  
It was almost like I was walking on
just one giant pulsating beam of light

  
under my feet.

  
Back the fuck up, man!

  
- Come on. Let's go.
- Jesus Christ!

  
Cullen, get on the door.

  
Relax.

  
So...

  
why'd you do it?

  
I Iike John Lennon.

  
So do I.

  
Boss, it's clear. Let's go.

  
Cullen, Iet's go.

  
I was Mr Nobody
till I killed the biggest somebody on Earth.

  
Outside the court
were many Lennon fans.

  
Security measures were strict
when they filed in

  
as there have been many threats
against Chapman's life since the murder.

  
I was nothing.
Then I was a big shot.

  
This was the hottest thing
in the city at the time.

  
Who are you?
Get outta here! Get outta here!

  
Get the fuck outta here now!
Get him in the car.

  
Get him in the fucking car!
Let's go!

  
Move it!

  
Let's go! Let's go!

  
25-year-old
Chapman of Hawaii

  
was described as
having a smirk on his face.

  
Police, calling him a wacko,
charged him with murder.

  
John's wife, Yoko Ono, issued
a statement to the weeping crowd of 
  
who gathered quickly
outside the co-op.

  
She said, "John loved and prayed for the
human race. Please do the same for him."

  
John Lennon and Paul McCartney
wrote more hit songs

  
than any composers
in modern history.

  
They're considered to have been the spirit
behind many of the social changes

  
of the '60s and '70s.

  
Hey! Get back down there.

  
AII I care about is getting you out of here
before someone kills you.

  
- You understand?
- Yes, sir.

  
Chapman was charged with
second-degree murder,

  
the most serious charge in New York
State for killing a non-law-officer.

  
He was then taken to Bellevue Hospital
for psychiatric...

  
Everywhere he goes,
Chapman wears two bulletproofjackets.

  
The threat of a lynching
is almost too much for police.

  
They fear that fans
might decide to storm the hospital.

  
I remember cockroaches
and I remember filth,

  
and I remember a smell.
I remember loud disco music,

  
and I remember just a terrible feeling
of something like a Fellini film.

  
...so well,

  
and music critic Robert Palmer
who recently interviewed John Lennon.

  
John Coleman will bring us
weather news this morning,

  
but now, at 30 minutes, almost 31,
after seven o'clock,

  
Steve Bell has the news.

  
Thank you.
Good morning, everyone.

  
New York City Police
have arrested and charged a suspect

  
in last night's murder
of John Lennon.

  
He's 25-year-old
David Chapman of Hawaii,

  
who police say had been in New York for
about a week, apparently stalking Lennon.

  
The police
describe Chapman as a "wacko".

  
Sources say he shot Lennon five times
as the musician returned to his apartment,

  
then dropped his gun
and waited for police.

  
Authorities say they do not know
of a motive for that killing.

  
Informed of Lennon's death, his former
songwriter partner, Paul McCartney, said:

  
"l can't take it. John was a great guy. He's
going to be missed by the whole world."

  
As June Massell reports,
many of Lennon's fans and admirers

  
heard about his death
on late-night-radio music programmes.

  
John Lennon will be remembered
as a gifted and talented musician.

  
The Beatles were
the top pop group in the world

  
from the time their first album
was released in 
  
until they broke up in 1970.

  
With Lennon at the time of the shooting
was his wife, Yoko Ono,

  
who Lennon once said
helped him find his identity.

  
When doctors told her Lennon was dead,
she cried, "Tell me it isn't true."

  
June Massell,
ABC News, Chicago.

  
I didn't care
what the doctors thought about me.

  
I was above and beyond that.

  
I was with a pure,
holy purpose

  
and there was nothing they could do
that would touch it.

  
I thought they were all phoneys.

  
I became a saviour,

  
a prophet.

  
The "Catcher in the Rye"
of my generation.

  
Hello, Mr Chapman.

  
How are you?

  
Have you had
a comfortable night?

  
I slept fine.

  
Good.

  
Do you know where you are?

  
Bellevue Hospital.

  
- Mm-hm. Right.
- Correct.

  
- Why are you here?
- For the murder of John Lennon.

  
Did you kill John Lennon?

  
- You oughta know that.
- Yes, I do.

  
Next question.

  
Why did you kill John Lennon?

  
Well, that's tough to answer.

  
Probably, uh...

  
a number of different reasons.

  
- Let's start. I have a Iot of time.
- I'm sure you do.

  
A Iot of questions,
a Iot of answers.

  
You provide the answers.

  
I ask the questions.

  
So give me one reason.

  
Because I thought
he was a phoney.

  
- A phoney?
- Mm-hm.

  
- Didn't Iike his music, is that it?
- No, I actually Ioved his music.

  
You didn't Iike his Iyrics?

  
Well, I...

  
I thought I understood his Iyrics,
but I guess I didn't.

  
What's phoney
about John Lennon?

  
Have you ever
thought about death before?

  
Killing?

  
Killing? Yeah.

  
I have thought about death.
I have thought about killing.

  
I just killed a man.

  
Is that killing enough for you?

  
Do you ever think about suicide or taking
yourself out of pain some other way?

  
Yeah, I've thought about suicide.

  
I tried to wipe myself out
before I wiped John Lennon out.

  
- You did?
- Yeah.

  
And what happened?

  
I couldn't do it.
I was too chicken.

  
- You were?
- Yeah.

  
I went up on top
of the Empire State Building,

  
and, uh...

  
I wanted to blow my brains out.

  
- Why is that?
- I believe nobody's ever done it before.

  
It'd be all over the newspapers.

  
What stopped you?

  
Picturing myself
hitting the bottom.

  
The fear.

  
Fear of physical pain.

  
I pictured my brains
on the ground.

  
I thought
I still might be alive.

  
Do you have that same picture
in your head about John Lennon?

  
Do you think
he felt the pain you felt?

  
Well, I'm sure he felt pain.

  
I don't know.
I guess I didn't really know him.

  
Did he do something
to you personally?

  
I don't want to talk any more.
I don't want to talk about the killing.

  
I'm trying to
block it out of my mind.

  
Why is that?

  
Why do you think?

  
I don't know.

  
- Have you ever killed anyone?
- No, I haven't.

  
- Have you ever seen someone dead?
- Yes.

  
Bullet wounds, blood?

  
Did you get excited about that?

  
I'm done talking.

  
It's conviction you want, is it?

  
- Or is it fame?
- We're done. I'm done talking.

  
- You certainly are.
- Yeah. Yeah.

  
Thank you, Mr Chapman.
It was great talking to you.

  
Stop there.

  
- Let's go and grab something after this.
- Clear.

  
Stop there.

  
Hey, killer!

  
See you soon, killer.

  
Lennon's killer had
several days of psychiatric examination

  
under a 24-hour suicide watch,

  
before being moved to Rikers lsland jail
to a more secure cell

  
for his own protection
from other prisoners.

  
He spent his first two days
refusing food

  
following a threat
scrawled on a prison wall:

  
"You don't have much time left."

  
"Soon, killer. Soon."

  
Within days, the lawyer
assigned to represent me withdrew.

  
This from a guy with a rep
for defending no-hope clients.

  
I began reading "Catcher" again,

  
and it was like I was reading a whole
other book from the one I'd read before,

  
Iike I was reading a blueprint
of what had happened to me.

  
I made a list
of 50 total coincidences.

  
It was like the whole killing
was set up by destiny,

  
just something
that was meant to be.

  
That's when I realised
John Lennon had been killed

  
to promote the reading
of "The Catcher in the Rye".

  
And that same electric current
passed through my body again,

  
and lit up
all the cells in my brain.

  
I became euphoric, knowing now
there was a reason beyond myself

  
for what I had done.

  
Shots have been fired as
Reagan left the Washington Hilton hotel.

  
White House officials
say the president was not hit,

  
but there are reports that three people
were wounded by gunfire.

  
Joe Ewog was there
when the shooting happened.

  
A series of explosions
that sounded like firecrackers.

  
They'd gone into the back seat by
one of the Secret-Service agents. After...

  
- He got that from me.
- ..swarming around the man with the gun.

  
They surged back towards where I was,
near one of the doors to the hotel.

  
They wrestled him to the ground,
then put him in a police car.

  
John Hinckley Jr
had become obsessed by Jodie Foster

  
and had imagined that she would be
impressed if he murdered the president.

  
Good idea. I had a backup Iist,
but Reagan wasn't on it.

  
I was going for Jackie Onassis,

  
George C Scott,

  
Johnny Carson,
if I couldn't get Lennon.

  
Very anxious.

  
Hyperventilating
and exhausted.

  
Cooperative.

  
Insatiable need for attention.

  
Have you seen
any other doctors at all?

  
Grandiose visions of himself.

  
Mood fluctuations.

  
Bingo.

  
Paranoid tendencies.

  
Rage.

  
What was the logic
behind all this?

  
Would you say
you loved the man?

  
Tell me about your mother.
Are you able to see that...

  
you're a separate person
from the person in the book?

  
My mission was now
to promote "The Catcher in the Rye",

  
and I was gonna use my trial,
the trial of the century,

  
to promote
the reading of that book.

  
Two weeks before the trial,
Chapman has instructed his Iawyers

  
that he wishes to plead guilty.

  
In a statement today, Chapman
says that God had spoken to him

  
and wanted him
to plead guilty.

  
Defence lawyer Jonathan Marks
has asked judge Dennis Edwards

  
to have a panel re-examine him

  
to determine if he was competent enough
to make such a decision.

  
The judge refused.

  
I was never mad.
I was blessed.

  
But there was one more task
I had to endure.

  
I had to be purified.

  
Exorcised.

  
- I know you, Satan.
- I'm a Christian. I can't be possessed.

  
I command you, Satan,
to come out.

  
I summon them up.
They're not inside.

  
It is Christ
who commands you...

  
Do you believe in God?

  
The devil?

  
Have you ever woken up

  
with the sensation
that something evil is in the room?

  
You're not really awake,
but you're not really dreaming either.

  
Your eyes won't open
more than about halfway.

  
You just feel paralysed with a fear that's
so powerful, you don't know who you are.

  
You're so frightened, you've virtually lost
your identity. Fear can do that, you know.

  
It can strip you of your identity.

  
There's nothing
more frightening than that.

  
I know.

  
Holy Lord,
almighty Father,

  
everlasting God
and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,

  
who once and for all consigned
that fallen tyrant to the flames of hell,

  
who sent your only-begotten Son
into the world to crush that roaring lion...

  
I was in a very surreal world.
I was in an utter panic of sheer terror

  
and wanted things to go back to the way
they were before I had pulled the trigger.

  
My whole life
was like that at that time -

  
a half-waking nightmare.

  
I couldn't wake up
and I couldn't sleep it away.

  
I was scared to death,
but I couldn't scream.

  
I would try to scream,

  
and it would remain echoing in my chest
without even being vocalised.

  
That was what came out
that night in December

  
when John Lennon
stepped out of his limousine.

  
What came out
of the barrel of that gun that night

  
was a giant scream
after all those years.

  
Listen to some
of the Lennon records,

  
Iisten to the background
of some of the Beatles' songs.

  
That screaming in the background,
that's John.

  
Listen to him scream when he's singing
about not having his mother,

  
about being abandoned
by his mother and his father.

  
Poor guy.
His father left the family,

  
then his mother left him
to be raised by his aunt and uncle.

  
Then his mother got killed

  
after she came back to him
after all those years.

  
To think, after a person had been through
all he had been through as a child,

  
then to get murdered
by somebody like me.

  
Thank you all very much.
God bless you.

  
Chapman
was brought from prison

  
to the state supreme court in Manhattan
to hear the judge's sentence.

  
Chapman showed
no emotion whatsoever

  
when the sentence
of 20 years to life was handed out,

  
but before that moment, there was to be
detailed evidence about his state of mind.

  
Chapman sat in a blue T -shirt,
holding a copy of Catcher in the Rye.

  
When the judge asked if he had
anything to say before the sentence,

  
Chapman rose
and read a short passage from the book.

  
"I'm standing at the edge
of this crazy cliff."

  
"What I have to do,
I have to catch everybody

  
if they start to go over the cliff - I mean
if they don't Iook where they're going

  
I have to come out from somewhere
and catch them."

  
"That's all I'II do all day."

  
"I'd just stand there
and be the catcher in the rye and all."

  
"I know it's crazy, but that's
the only thing I'd really Iike to be."

  
"I know it's crazy."