Lulu On The Bridge Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Lulu On The Bridge script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Paul Auster movie starring Harvey Keitel and Mira Sorvino.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Lulu On The Bridge. 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!

Lulu On The Bridge Script


   

                   

"Close your eyes...



 

                   

and look at me...



 

                   

Lock the door,

and you'll be free...



 

                   

Dreams can be reality...



 

                   

If you live

your dream with me.



 

                   

Wave goodbye

to what you are...



 

                   

What you want

is not so far...



 

                   

Life is short..."



 

                   

There you are.

Come on, Izzy, let's go.



  

                   

They're waiting for us.



  

                   

J ust a second.



  

                   

I can't go on with my

dick hanging out, can I?



  

                   

Izzy!

Come on!



  

                   

Nancy!



  

                   

God wants it this way, Nancy!



  

                   

We're going to burn

in hell, Nancy!



  

                   

You, me...



  

                   

and God!



  

                   

All of us together!



  

                   

You belong to me, not him...



  

                   

Not to anyone but me!



  

                   

 "My father was an

architect, a good and righteous man...



  

                   

My mother is an acrobat,

and I do the best I can..."



  

                   

Hey pretty one.



  

                   

Hey, Pierre.



  

                   

I was wondering, if...



  

                   

Oh, he made it?



  

                   

I'm glad.



  

                   

Yeah, he made it.



  

                   

But the article says

he'll probably never play again.



  

                   

A one-lunged saxophonist

with a broken hand.



  

                   

Doesn't sound

too hopeful, does it?



  

                   

- Did you ever hear him play?

- Nah, I'm not too big on jazz...



  

                   

Give me Chuck Berry any day.



  

                   

I hear it's good.



  

                   

They says there's a big run

on Katmandu's last CD.



  

                   

- Well that's good.

- Good?



  

                   

I'd call it pretty ironic.



  

                   

The guy plays for years,

nobody's ever heard of him.



  

                   

Then he gets shot,

his career is ruined,



  

                   

suddenly he's a big success.



  

                   

Well, at least he's alive.



  

                   

I mean, you can't do anything

unless you're alive.



  

                   

Celia, weren't you going

to say something?



  

                   

Oh, I completely forgot.

I have an audition next Tuesday...



  

                   

and I was hoping that I could

work dinner instead of lunch.



  

                   

Arrange it with Bob or Helen.



  

                   

If they're not willing

to switch, the answer's no.



  

                   

If they are, no problem.



  

                   

Okay.

Fair enough.



  

                   

What's the part?



  

                   

It's a shampoo commercial.



  

                   

Are you the before or after?



  

                   

Probably neither.

I don't think I'll get it.



  

                   

Of course you will.

It's in the bag.



  

                   

Not enough hair.



  

                   

You're alive...



  

                   

Don't you ever forget that.

You're alive.



  

                   

When you get out of here you'll

be in reasonably good physical shape.



  

                   

It might take you a while

to figure out your next move,



  

                   

but you start with life.



  

                   

And life is a beautiful

thing, Mr. Maurer.



  

                   

No, it's not.

Life is life,



  

                   

and it's only beautiful

if you make it beautiful.



  

                   

I wish I could say

I've done that, but I can't.



  

                   

The only beautiful thing

I've ever done is play music.



  

                   

If I can't have that,

I might as well be dead.



  

                   

Am I making myself clear?



  

                   

I'd rather have lost both my legs

or both of my eyes than my left lung.



  

                   

A lung equals breath.



  

                   

Breath equals music.



  

                   

M usic equals life.



  

                   

Without music,

I have no life.



  

                   

You talk like someone

who feels he's been punished.



  

                   

Well, maybe I am.



  

                   

A madman fires a bullet into my body,

and justice is finally done.



  

                   

Izzy...

It's Dave again.



  

                   

Come on, man,

don't do this to me.



  

                   

We gotta talk.

You hear me?



  

                   

Don't be a schmuck, Izzy.



  

                   

J ust remember who

your friends are, okay?



  

                   

 Leave a message,

and I'll get back to you.



  

                   

Izzy...



  

                   

Pick up the damn phone.



  

                   

It's Hannah, for Chrissakes.

Remember me?



  

                   

We used to be married.



  

                   

Back in the old days...



  

                   

When knights were brave

and chicks were bold,



  

                   

and bullets weren't invented.



  

                   

Give me a call, Maurer,

I want to know how you're doing.



  

                   

Hi, Izzy.



  

                   

Hey... Izzy?



  

                   

How're you doing?



  

                   

Bobby Perez.



  

                   

I did sound at your

Summer Stage gig last year.



  

                   

We were all

rooting for you, Izzy.



  

                   

I'm really glad

you pulled through.



  

                   

Thanks, Billy.



  

                   

I'm doing much better now.



   

                   

I think I'm a lot younger than I was

the last time you saw me.



   

                   

Wow.



   

                   

Yeah, yeah, probably.



   

                   

I see what you mean.



   

                   

And I forgot to put

my watch on today.



   

                   

See? No watch.



   

                   

I consider that progress,

real progress.



   

                   

Oh...



   

                   

It's you.



   

                   

You don't pick up your phone,

so I figured I'd pay you a visit.



   

                   

You look nice in those pants.



   

                   

Don't even think about it, chum.



   

                   

It just brings back

memories, that's all.



   

                   

That, plump, protruding

little ass of yours.



   

                   

For a year or two, it was the most

interesting place in the world for me.



   

                   

My ass and I are doing

just fine without you, Izzy.



   

                   

You're not the only man

who ever admired it, you know.



   

                   

So I gathered.



   

                   

You don't get a tan

like that hanging around the city.



   

                   

So I guess this new boyfriend

of yours is working out okay?



   

                   

We'll get to him later.



   

                   

We have other things

to talk about first.



   

                   

Like what?



   

                   

Like you, dumbbell, that's what.



   

                   

I want to know

what's happening to you.



   

                   

What for?



   

                   

I mean, you don't even like me.



   

                   

You still don't know

who I am, do you?



   

                   

After all these years,

you still don't have a clue.



   

                   

Apparently not.



   

                   

Once I give my heart

to someone, it's forever.



   

                   

I may not want

to live with you anymore,



   

                   

but that doesn't mean

I don't care about you.



   

                   

You're still a part

of who I am, you jerk.



   

                   

Hi.



   

                   

Excuse me if I'm in shock.



   

                   

- I didn't think you'd come.

- You invited me, remember?



   

                   

- Hi.

- Hi!



   

                   

This is Sonia.

Philip's daughter.



   

                   

Are you Izzy Maurer?



   

                   

Well, I used to be.



   

                   

Who are you now?



   

                   

I don't know.

Maybe nobody.



   

                   

Well, nice to

meet you, Mr. Nobody.



   

                   

See you around.



   

                   

So, there's been

a slight change of plans.



   

                   

Philip's working on a

project with Catherine Moore...



   

                   

she's in New York for a few days,

so we invited her to dinner too.



   

                   

The actress?



   

                   

Former actress.



   

                   

She's a director now.

She hasn't acted for ten or    years.



   

                   

Catherine Moore...



   

                   

I used to have a crush on her.



   

                   

And the big hit of the summer

was "The Reluctant Debutante",



   

                   

and I played the spotty debutante,

and I was very thrilled



   

                   

because it was the only "young"

part I had the whole season.



   

                   

All the rest, I was about   

or    or something like that.



   

                   

So what made you give up acting?



   

                   

Vanity.



   

                   

Beauty fades...



   

                   

The flesh gives out.



   

                   

You lose interest in being someone

else's idea about who you are.



   

                   

I didn't want to be invented

by other people anymore.



   

                   

So now you invent yourself.



   

                   

Exactly.



   

                   

I'm the one that

controls the images.



   

                   

But no one sees you.



   

                   

Oh well, so much the better.



   

                   

They see what I think.



   

                   

What they'll be seeing next is a

new version of Pandora's Box.



   

                   

After a thousand

bends in the road...



   

                   

we finally have a deal in place.



   

                   

All we need is

someone to play Lulu.



   

                   

Who's Lulu?



   

                   

Lulu...



   

                   

As is Louise Brooks?



   

                   

As in the opera...



   

                   

The girl who

eats men for breakfast.



   

                   

You know, the one who's

done in by Jack the Ripper.



   

                   

You see what I mean, Philip?



   

                   

It's not at all obvious.



   

                   

People don't remember anything.



   

                   

Don't worry, Catherine...



   

                   

It's not all people, it's Izzy.



   

                   

Talk to him about anything but music

and he acts like a little kid.



   

                   

Speaking of kids...



   

                   

Hi, sweetheart.



   

                   

- You getting tired?

- Yeah. I came out to say goodnight.



   

                   

Do you want me to tuck you in?



   

                   

Is that okay?



   

                   

You don't mind, do you?



   

                   

Mind?

Why should I mind?



   

                   

Okay...



   

                   

I will be back

in a few minutes.



   

                   

Can I come too?



   

                   

- Of "cawse".



   

                   

This way, ladies.



   

                   

Cigar?



   

                   

No, thanks.



   

                   

Do you mind if

I ask you a question?



   

                   

A question?

Sure.



   

                   

Ask any question you want.



   

                   

You don't have to

answer if you don't want to.



   

                   

But, something happened

to me a couple weeks ago...



   

                   

and I'm still trying to figure out

if I did the right thing or not.



   

                   

I was on a plane to London.



   

                   

I was going to see Catherine,

as a matter of fact.



   

                   

J ust as we go into our descent,

I decide I have to go to the toilet.



   

                   

I go down the aisle,

but the door is locked,



   

                   

so I stand there, shooting the breeze

with one of the stewardesses.



   

                   

Finally...



   

                   

the door opens... and out

steps this good-looking girl.



   

                   

Maybe    or   .



   

                   

Very pretty.



   

                   

She gives me

an odd little look,



   

                   

she edges past me and

I go into the bathroom.



   

                   

The toilet seat

and the cover are both down,



   

                   

and sitting on top

of the cover...



   

                   

is a huge turd.



   

                   

I have no idea what to do.



   

                   

If I complain to the stewardess

she'll think I did it.



   

                   

We've just had

this friendly conversation,



   

                   

and I don't want her to

think I'm that kind of person.



   

                   

That's the situation.



   

                   

Now tell me what you would

have done if you'd been me.



   

                   

I don't know...



   

                   

I would have complained,

I guess, but, I'm not sure.



   

                   

What did you do?



   

                   

Took out some paper towels

and I cleaned up the mess.



   

                   

Incredible.



   

                   

Yeah...



   

                   

Incredibly disgusting.



   

                   

I don't think I've ever

done anything that generous.



   

                   

You did an admirable thing.



   

                   

Maybe, maybe not.



   

                   

Maybe I was just being a coward.



   

                   

You know, I'm...

trying to avoid a scene.



   

                   

Oof!



   

                   

Hello.



   

                   

- Who?

-  Izzy Maurer.



   

                   

You're kidding.



   

                   

Believe it or not, I'm...

I'm listening to your record now.



   

                   

What's your name?



   

                   

My name? Well, how can you call me

if you don't know my name?



   

                   

I have a napkin

with your telephone number on it.



   

                   

You do?



   

                   

Celia... Burns.



   

                   

Celia Burns.



   

                   

Can I come over right away?

I need to talk to you about something.



   

                   

All right...



   

                   

If it's that important.



   

                   

What's your address?



   

                   

    West   th Street...



   

                   

Second floor.



   

                   

I'll be there in    minutes.



   

                   

Okay... I guess

I'll see you then.



   

                   

Hello?



   

                   

- Celia?

- It is you...



   

                   

I recognize you

from your photograph.



   

                   

I thought, after I hung up, that maybe

someone was playing a joke on me.



   

                   

No jokes.

J ust one question.



   

                   

Do you know a man

named Stanley Mar?



   

                   

Stanley Mar?



   

                   

M-A-R.



   

                   

I... don't think so.



   

                   

Wears nice suits.



   

                   

Shops for his ties at Barney's.



   

                   

I don't know.



   

                   

Maybe.



   

                   

You know there, there...



   

                   

I did go for a drink with someone

named Stanley about a year ago...



   

                   

- but he didn't tell me his last name.

- "Maybe"?



   

                   

What's this "maybe"?



   

                   

What's this?



   

                   

What the fuck is this?



   

                   

That's not my handwriting.

Where did you get that?



   

                   

He had it on him.



   

                   

And you're going to stand there

and tell me you saw him only once?



   

                   

If we're talking about

the same Stanley, then yes.



   

                   

Now, I work in a restaurant...



   

                   

I served him dinner one night,

and then he asked me out.



   

                   

I found him boring.

All he did was talk about money.



   

                   

And what about this?



   

                   

I suppose you don't know

anything about this, either.



   

                   

You know, I really

like your music,



   

                   

and I'm very sorry about

what happened to you, but...



   

                   

you know, you're acting like a

crazy man and if you don't calm down,



   

                   

I'm going to have

to ask you to leave.



   

                   

You don't understand...



   

                   

What is that?



   

                   

- You tell me.

- Me?



   

                   

Mar was carrying

two things with him.



   

                   

The napkin with your

number on it, and this.



   

                   

Well, it doesn't look like anything.



   

                   

Close the curtains.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

We have to make it dark in here.



   

                   

The darker the better.



   

                   

Now I don't like it when

people order me around.



   

                   

J ust humor me.



   

                   

I'm not going to hurt you.



   

                   

You don't mean anything to me.



   

                   

Well that's pretty obvious, isn't it?



   

                   

I just have to show you this.



   

                   

Five minutes.



   

                   

And then I want you out of here.



   

                   

- Got it?

- Okay.



   

                   

Now turn out the light.



   

                   

-  Now watch.

-  I'm watching.



   

                   

J ust wait...



   

                   

-  Oh, my God.

-  You see?



   

                   

It's beautiful.



   

                   

It's the most beautiful

thing I've even seen.



   

                   

And Mar never said

a thing to you about it?



   

                   

Shh!



   

                   

What are you doing?



   

                   

Be quiet.



   

                   

Don't touch it!



   

                   

Why not?



   

                   

Because...



   

                   

because we don't

know what it is.



   

                   

Don't be silly.



   

                   

Of course I'm going to touch it.



   

                   

How could I not touch it?



   

                   

What does it feel like?



   

                   

I'm not going to tell you.



   

                   

I don't share secrets with cowards.



   

                   

I'm just not stupid, that's all.



   

                   

Oh, come on.

Don't be afraid.



   

                   

It's the best thing.

It really is.



   

                   

It's like nothing else.



   

                   

Ohh, Jesus...



   

                   

It's amazing, isn't it?



   

                   

You feel more alive, don't you?



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

More connected.



   

                   

Connected to what?



   

                   

I don't know.



   

                   

To myself.



   

                   

To the table...



   

                   

The floor.

The air in the room.



   

                   

To everything that's not me.



   

                   

To you.



   

                   

When I woke up this morning,

I didn't know who you were.



   

                   

The way I'm feeling now,



   

                   

I could spend

the rest of my life with you.



   

                   

I think I'd be willing

to die for you.



   

                   

Don't.



   

                   

I'm sorry...

I'm just telling you the truth.



   

                   

Do you know what it means

to die for someone?



   

                   

It's not fair.



   

                   

Why not?



   

                   

Turn on the light.



   

                   

Please, turn on the light.



   

                   

I think I should go now.



   

                   

I'm sorry.



   

                   

I'll come back tomorrow.



   

                   

Yes...



   

                   

Come back tomorrow.



   

                   

Hey...!



   

                   

Hey...



   

                   

I have some shopping to do and

I thought you might like to go with me.



   

                   

Sounds good.



   

                   

Eggs, oranges, those kinds of things.



   

                   

You can't live

if you don't eat, right?



   

                   

Right.



   

                   

I don't even know who you are.



   

                   

Yes, you do.



   

                   

You know everything about me.



   

                   

Not really.



   

                   

But it doesn't matter, does it?



   

                   

No...



   

                   

As long as you don't...



   

                   

get up and leave now,

I don't suppose it does.



   

                   

You don't see me rushing

to get out of here, do you?



   

                   

Tell me something, Izzy...



   

                   

Are you... an ocean

or a river?



   

                   

What?



   

                   

It's a game I used to

play with my sister.



   

                   

You have to answer.



   

                   

An ocean or a river...?



   

                   

A river.



   

                   

Are you... a match

or a cigarette lighter?



   

                   

A match.



   

                   

Definitely a match.



   

                   

Are you a car or a bicycle?



   

                   

A bicycle.



   

                   

Are you... an owl

or a hummingbird?



   

                   

H mm...



   

                   

I used to be a hummingbird...



   

                   

But now I'm an owl.



   

                   

Are you sneakers or boots?



   

                   

That's not fair, you have

to give me a chance now.



   

                   

- Sneakers or boots?

- Boots.



   

                   

Now it's my turn.



   

                   

It's fun, isn't it?



   

                   

- We used to do it for hours.

- Shh...



   

                   

you concentrate now.



   

                   

Are you a real person...

or a spirit?



   

                   

A real person.



   

                   

Do you understand what's happened,

or are you in the dark like me?



   

                   

In the dark.



   

                   

Are you in love,



   

                   

or just going along

for the ride?



   

                   

In love.



   

                   

Are you with the person you love,

or not with the person you love?



   

                   

With the person.



   

                   

With the person.



   

                   

 There was a hole... right in

the middle of his forehead.



   

                   

Like a...

huge blind eye.



   

                   

I thought I was

going to drown in it.



   

                   

Once I looked in there...

I thought I would never get out.



   

                   

He must have been

killed for the stone.



   

                   

Then why didn't they take it?



   

                   

Maybe something went wrong.



   

                   

I wish I could give it back.



   

                   

Back...?



   

                   

Back to who?



   

                   

To the person who owns it.



   

                   

I don't know...

to the place where it belongs.



   

                   

- You know what it reminds me of?

- What?



   

                   

The Berlin Wall.



   

                   

Not big enough.



   

                   

Remember when the wall

came down in '  ...



   

                   

There were little pieces of it

floating around all over the place



   

                   

and a friend of mine

was given one in Germany.



   

                   

It looked exactly the same,

exactly like the thing that you found.



   

                   

A cruddy little chunk of cement.



   

                   

J ust like that.



   

                   

So you're saying that

Russian scientists planted some...



   

                   

mysterious substance

in the Berlin Wall?



   

                   

No, I'm just telling you

what it reminds me of.



   

                   

I'll tell you

what it reminds me of...



   

                   

a piece of some building

you see on a New Jersey highway.



   

                   

You know, like a...

bowling alley, or a warehouse,



   

                   

or maybe some

fly-by-night topless bar.



   

                   

Why not?



   

                   

Celia?



   

                   

Say it again.



   

                   

Celia.



   

                   

I love hearing

you say that.



   

                   

Say it again...?



   

                   

Celia...



   

                   

Yes?



   

                   

Are you happier on this roof

or happier downstairs in bed?



   

                   

Oh, my God...

I have to go to work.



   

                   

Why don't you call in sick?



   

                   

I can't.

I really can't.



   

                   

I've only made $    

as an actress this year.



   

                   

If I didn't have this job,

I wouldn't eat.



   

                   

I don't want to

let you out of my sight.



   

                   

Well, I mean, I'll be back at midnight.

You could wait for me here, if you want.



   

                   

Maybe I could work with you.



   

                   

What do you mean?



   

                   

I don't know... Maybe they need

another waiter or something.



   

                   

But you're a musician.



   

                   

Not anymore.



   

                   

My job is to be with you.



   

                   

You're my work now.



   

                   

Are you real...



   

                   

or did I make you up?



   

                   

Well?



   

                   

I could ask Pierre.



   

                   

Pierre?



   

                   

What is it,

a French restaurant?



   

                   

No, it's kind of

fake French.



   

                   

Sort of like Pierre...

he's from the Bronx.



   

                   

There might be an

opening for a busboy.



   

                   

I'd wash dishes if I had to.



   

                   

You'd better get dressed, then.



   

                   

- Wow!

- That was the first part I ever got.



   

                   

It was about three years ago,

when I first came to New York.



   

                   

"Horror Machine VI."



   

                   

Oh, watch this...



   

                   

This is a little bit

that I did in "The Laughing Man".



   

                   

- H ubba, hubba.

- Oh stop!



   

                   

Watch!



   

                   

Pow!



   

                   

Oh!



   

                   

That's terrible!



   

                   

Oh! Oh, no...



   

                   

Oh, no,

now for some pure corn.



   

                   

Yea, though I walk through

the valley of the shadow of death,



   

                   

I will fear no evil,

for thou art with me.



   

                   

- You don't want to hear this.

- Yes I do.



   

                   

Oh, it's awful.



   

                   

No it's not.



   

                   

...the presence of mine enemies.



   

                   

Thou anointest my head with oil.



   

                   

My cup runneth over.



   

                   

Surely goodness and mercy shall

follow me all the days of my life...



   

                   

- She looks like she's already dead.

- Shh!



   

                   

...And I will dwell

in the house of the Lord forever.



   

                   

This is something I did last year.



   

                   

That's me.



   

                   

Hey, sweetheart.



   

                   

Hey, that's Lou Reed.



   

                   

No, it's not.

It just looks like him.



   

                   

What's your idea of fun, big guy?



   

                   

Well... I don't know.

You tell me.



   

                   

It'll cost you    bucks

to get me off this stool...



   

                   

You want me to walk

through that door with you,



   

                   

it's gonna be another   .

The motel charges   ...



   

                   

and my rates start at a    

per half hour.



   

                   

That's with my clothes on.



   

                   

You want me to take them off,

it's another   .



   

                   

Still interested?



   

                   

Yeah...!

I'm interested.



   

                   

All right, be a good boy

and go outside and wait for me.



   

                   

I want to finish my drink.



   

                   

Jesus, you're one tough cookie.



   

                   

I really liked

doing that scene.



   

                   

Well, not much to

show for myself so far.



   

                   

N un... whore, murder victim

and a pie in the face?



   

                   

I'd say you're off

to a pretty good start.



   

                   

Movies are tough. I've always had

a lot better luck with plays.



   

                   

I got an agent two months ago.

She put together this tape.



   

                   

Has it helped?



   

                   

Yes and no.



   

                   

I mean, I've had

more auditions but, no work yet.



   

                   

I have another audition

on Monday afternoon.



   

                   

What's the part?



   

                   

Lulu. There's going to be

a new version of Pandora's Box.



   

                   

You're kidding...?



   

                   

No, it's really happening.



   

                   

They're looking for

someone completely unknown.



   

                   

So, maybe I have a chance.



   

                   

It's such a great role,

I'd love to play it.



   

                   

It's one of the best roles

ever written for a woman.



   

                   

I know the people who

are making that movie.



   

                   

Catherine Moore, she's

the director, right?



   

                   

- Yeah...

- And Philip Kleinman's the producer.



   

                   

You know them?



   

                   

Know them? I just had dinner

with them a few nights ago.



   

                   

I'll call them up,

put in a word for you...



   

                   

get the ball rolling.



   

                   

I'm going to

get you that part.



   

                   

I just wanted to thank you, Hannah.

You've been great.



   

                   

There she is.

I'll catch you later.



   

                   

How did it go?



   

                   

I don't know...



   

                   

I don't think I was very good.

It was a good experience...



   

                   

I got to talk to Catherine Moore.

She's fantastic.



   

                   

You wouldn't be free

later tonight, would you?



   

                   

Sorry, I'm busy.



   

                   

Have you decided

on your orders yet?



   

                   

She's just playing

hard-to-get, hm?



   

                   

We'd be happy to...

make it worth your while.



   

                   

You know, the duck is very good tonight.

The chef is recommending it.



   

                   

Fuck the duck.

I'm interested in other kinds of meat.



   

                   

Hey, stupid.

Keep your hands to yourself.



   

                   

Izzy, it's all right. I can handle it.



   

                   

Yeah, mind your

own business, "busboy".



   

                   

Yeah, go and clear

away some dirty dishes.



   

                   

This is my business, asshole.



   

                   

 It's nothing.

Believe me, it's nothing.



   

                   

Nothing? This schmuck!



   

                   

Starts feeling you up,

and you call it nothing?



   

                   

Come on, get up,

do it again!



   

                   

Do it again!



   

                   

- I dare you!

- Stop!



   

                   

Stop it! Are you trying

to ruin my business!



   

                   

Is that what you want?

You're trying to destroy me!



   

                   

I'll kill you, you son-of-a-bitch!

You hear me? I'll kill you!



   

                   

 I never

should've hired this maniac.



   

                   

I never should've

let you talk me into it.



   

                   

Please, everyone,

take your seats.



   

                   

I'm sorry for the disturbance, please.



   

                   

Please, gentlemen...

return to your table.



   

                   

Dinner is on the house tonight, please!



   

                   

Paul, whatever they want.



   

                   

You, I want out of my sight.

Get your things and leave.



   

                   

You're fired.



   

                   

Pierre, please,

it won't happen again.



   

                   

You're damned right it won't.

If he ever sets foot in my place again,



   

                   

I'll tear him apart.



   

                   

If he goes, I go.



   

                   

Then go.

I don't care.



   

                   

You brought this bum in,

you can take him out.



   

                   

How could you do that?



   

                   

I mean, do you know

how much I needed that job?



   

                   

Two and half years

I've been working there,



   

                   

and in one night you ruin everything.

I mean, how could you do that?



   

                   

I'm sorry.



   

                   

That's how I used to be.

All crazy and wild.



   

                   

I'm sorry.



   

                   

I don't want to be

that person anymore.



   

                   

I swear to you,

I'll never act that way again.



   

                   

Celia, are you there? It's Maggie.



   

                   

Well, I have just had two calls...



   

                   

One from Philip Kleinman,

one from Catherine Moore,



   

                   

and you've got the part.



   

                   

You're the one they want.

It's fantastic.



   

                   

Call me tomorrow morning,

and I'll fill you in on the details.



   

                   

Congratulations, darling.

I'm just over the moon for you.



   

                   

Are you all right?



   

                   

I got the part.



   

                   

I'm Lulu.



   

                   

"We are all lost creatures," he said...



   

                   

"and it is only if we admit this that we

have any chance of finding ourselves".



   

                   

But Lulu doesn't admit anything.

She doesn't know anything.



   

                   

She just is.



   

                   

Wedekind says Lulu

isn't a real character...



   

                   

she's... an embodiment

of primitive sexuality.



   

                   

And whatever evil she causes

comes about by accident,



   

                   

because she's passive,

because she's playing a passive role.



   

                   

I don't agree...



   

                   

She's impulsive,

but she's not a destroyer.



   

                   

She doesn't care

what other people think of her.



   

                   

That's where she

gets her power.



   

                   

She doesn't have any pretensions...



   

                   

She doesn't play by the

same rules everyone else does.



   

                   

But Wedekind wrote the play.



   

                   

He created her.



   

                   

It doesn't matter.

He was wrong.



   

                   

He was wrong?



   

                   

Well, we'll see.



   

                   

So, Izzy...



   

                   

I hear you'll be hanging

around Dublin with us.



   

                   

H uh?



   

                   

Yes, he's... going to come over

a few days after I do.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

I'm getting rid of my apartment,

putting my things in storage.



   

                   

When the movie's over...



   

                   

Celia and I are going to look

for a new apartment together.



   

                   

Sounds cozy.



   

                   

It will be.



   

                   

That's exactly what I wanted.

Thanks a million. Bye-bye.



   

                   

- Everything okay?

- Everything's great.



   

                   

Catherine...



   

                   

You talk to Otts about using bigger

speakers for the rock 'n' roll scene?



   

                   

Oh, he's taking care of it.



   

                   

I still haven't figured

out how to light it, though.



   

                   

 Well, we'll be there

the day after tomorrow...



   

                   

Meet me downstairs.



   

                   

I need to talk

to you about something.



   

                   

Would you please

excuse me for a minute?



   

                   

The car is here.



   

                   

I wish you were going with me now.



   

                   

It's better this way.

You can settle in...



   

                   

I'll take care of things here.



   

                   

It's just a few days.



   

                   

I don't want to let

you out of my sight.



   

                   

I need you with me.



   

                   

You're going to

knock their socks off.



   

                   

I love you, Izzy.



   

                   

What did I do to deserve you?



   

                   

You're my angel, Celia.

My miracle.



   

                   

My whole life.



   

                   

Here...



   

                   

take this.



   

                   

Maybe it will help.



   

                   

What for?



   

                   

Whenever you look at it,

you'll think about me.



   

                   

And what about you?

Aren't you going to think about me?



   

                   

I don't need the

stone to think about you.



   

                   

I'll be thinking

about you every minute.



   

                   

Oof!



   

                   

You're a slippery

fellow, Mr. Maurer.



   

                   

Don't you like your

apartment anymore?



   

                   

Who are you?

What do you want?



   

                   

No, Mr. Maurer, who are you,

and what do you want?



   

                   

What gives the right

to meddle in our business?



   

                   

- Again, boss?

- Absolutely.



   

                   

Who are you working for?

Why did you kill Stanley Mar?



   

                   

I didn't kill him.



   

                   

It's too late for lies, my friend.



   

                   

 Leave a message,

and I'll get back to you.



   

                   

Izzy...



   

                   

Aw, I've missed you again.



   

                   

I'll be in tonight, so you can

call me when you get back.



   

                   

Everything is fine here,

but I just miss you so much,



   

                   

I can't wait to see you.



   

                   

Only three days.



   

                   

Only!

It feels like forever.



   

                   

Well, I love you, Izzy.



   

                   

And I kiss you and...

I send you a thousand hugs.



   

                   

Okay, my darling.

Bye.



   

                   

Hello, Mr. Maurer.



   

                   

I'm Dr. Van Horn.



   

                   

I can go now, right?



   

                   

I mean...



   

                   

you're the

good guys, aren't you?



   

                   

Isn't that what happened?



   

                   

- The good guys got rid of the bad guys?

- Yes...



   

                   

We're the good guys.



   

                   

I want to go home.



   

                   

You will, I promise you.



   

                   

But we have to talk first.

It's very important.



   

                   

I don't believe you.



   

                   

It doesn't smell

very good in here, does it?



   

                   

A man has... got to shit.



   

                   

If he doesn't have a toilet,

what do you expect?



   

                   

Montaigne once wrote,



   

                   

"Let us not forget

that philosophers and kings,



   

                   

and even ladies, too,

must defecate".



   

                   

- Well?

- Don't worry...



   

                   

I'll have it cleaned up.



   

                   

You must be hungry.



   

                   

When was the

last time you ate?



   

                   

I don't want food...

I just want to get out of here.



   

                   

We're the good guys,

Mr. Maurer, I can assure you of that.



   

                   

But what I want to know,

is whether you're good, too.



   

                   

Are you good, Mr. Maurer?



   

                   

Are you worthy?



   

                   

Worthy? Of what?



   

                   

I thought you could

help us, you see.



   

                   

I had such

high hopes for you.



   

                   

But I was wrong

to trust you, wasn't I?



   

                   

Am I right

or wrong, Mr. Maurer?



   

                   

- I don't know what you're talking about.

- Yes, you do.



   

                   

Stanley Mar,

for one thing.



   

                   

And a little box

he was carrying with him.



   

                   

Do you know how

precious that stone is?



   

                   

It took years

to achieve that light.



   

                   

Do you have any

idea of the good it can do?



   

                   

I'm so disappointed in you.



   

                   

Here.



   

                   

Change your clothes.



   

                   

You stink.



   

                   

Cut!



   

                   

I'd like to print that one.



   

                   

But I want to have another go.

J ust give me a few minutes.



   

                   

It's still a little too broad.



   

                   

I was trying to hold back,

but it's such an emotional scene.



   

                   

I know. It's all

so over the top, but...



   

                   

It's about real things.

Things that are hidden maybe, but...



   

                   

Things that are there.



   

                   

You don't have to work so hard, Celia.

Let the camera do it for you.



   

                   

It's like, turning dreams

inside out, isn't it?



   

                   

We have all them in us.



   

                   

It's just a matter of

how you let them go.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

 Leave a message,

and I'll get back to you.



   

                   

Izzy darling, where are you?



   

                   

They sent someone to the airport

this morning to pick you up...



   

                   

and you weren't there.



   

                   

Oh, my sweetheart, where are you?

What happened to you?



   

                   

Are you there?



   

                   

 I don't have it.

I told you that before...



   

                   

I don't have it.

And I don't know where it is.



   

                   

When did you start

using the name Izzy?



   

                   

This is ridiculous.



   

                   

Your real name's

Isaac, isn't it?



   

                   

- So?

- How old were you?



   

                   

Six? Eight?



   

                   

I don't remember.



   

                   

But you do remember

the fireflies, don't you?



   

                   

- The what?

- Maybe you called them "lightning bugs".



   

                   

It doesn't matter.



   

                   

You know what I'm

talking about, don't you?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

Those little things

that fly around at night...



   

                   

in the summer,

when the weather's hot.



   

                   

Tiny pinpricks of light,

going on and off,



   

                   

darting through the air,



   

                   

now in one place,

now in another.



   

                   

Very beautiful, no?



   

                   

What is this, "Welcome to

the World of Insects"?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

It's called, going back

or delving into the past.



   

                   

Remember Echo Lake?



   

                   

How many summers did you

and your family go there?



   

                   

- How do you know about that?

- I know about a lot of things.



   

                   

Do you remember the fireflies now?



   

                   

Yes...



   

                   

Vaguely.



   

                   

Yes, I remember them.



   

                   

You and your big brother would go out

in the backyard at night, wouldn't you?



   

                   

Carrying jars with little

holes punched in the top.



   

                   

What was his name again?



   

                   

- Franz.

- Franz, right, that's it.



   

                   

Franz and Isaac.



   

                   

How many years apart were you?



   

                   

- Three...

- Right. Three.



   

                   

Three years apart.

So you and your big brother, Franz,



   

                   

who was three years older

than you would go out at night



   

                   

to catch fireflies in the backyard.



   

                   

Your father punched the holes

in the tops of the jars, didn't he?



   

                   

With a hammer and

an eighth-inch nail.



   

                   

Tap, tap, tap.



   

                   

He was a doctor,

your father, wasn't he?



   

                   

Not a pretend doctor like me,

with my Ph.D. in anthropology



   

                   

but an honest-to-goodness medical

doctor who actually cures the sick,



   

                   

and helps people get well.



   

                   

Stocky fellow, wasn't he?



   

                   

With strong upper arms,

and one of those barrel chests.



   

                   

Bald, too, if I'm not mistaken...



   

                   

and even out there

at the lake in the summer...



   

                   

when he had his one

measly week of holiday a year...



   

                   

he walked around in

his white shirt, didn't he?



   

                   

No tie... he'd roll his sleeves up

when the weather was particularly hot,



   

                   

but still that's how you

see him in your mind, isn't it?



   

                   

Your father in his white shirt.



   

                   

Stop it...



   

                   

Don't do this to me.



   

                   

So there you'd be, you and Franz,

running around the backyard



   

                   

of the house by Echo Lake

trying to catch fireflies



   

                   

and put them in your jars.



   

                   

It was so magnificent,

holding that jar in your hand



   

                   

with all those

flickering lights inside.



   

                   

And of course the more fireflies

you caught and put in the jar...



   

                   

the more impressive and beautiful

the lantern would be.



   

                   

The problem was you weren't

very good at catching fireflies.



   

                   

Everytime you reached out for one,

it would suddenly go dark



   

                   

and then another would light up

somewhere else,



   

                   

distracting you from

the first one just long enough



   

                   

to lose track of where it was,



   

                   

and then you would

go after the second one



   

                   

and the same thing

would happen all over again.



   

                   

And again, and again.



   

                   

Meanwhile, your big brother, Franz,

who was three years older than you,



   

                   

would be snaring one

incandescent bug after another.



   

                   

His jar would be glowing

like a small temple of dreams.



   

                   

And again and again you

would come up empty-handed.



   

                   

It drove you into

spasms of frustration.



   

                   

Finally, in your sniveling,

abject little way,



   

                   

you'd resort to tears,

raising such a fuss



   

                   

that your mother

would have to come running outside.



   

                   

Your poor mother who was spending

a few tranquil moments with your father



   

                   

drinking his one nightly beer in his

white shirt with the sleeves rolled up



   

                   

and nine times out of

ten she would settle things



   

                   

by forcing a reluctant Franz

to part with a few of his fireflies,



   

                   

so you would have something

to put in your jar, too.



   

                   

Anything to keep

the brat quiet.



   

                   

Right, Izzy?



   

                   

Anything for

a few moments of peace.



   

                   

What kind of a man are you?



   

                   

When's the last time you saw Franz?



   

                   

I don't want to talk about this.



   

                   

Answer the question.



   

                   

You have to answer the question.



   

                   

- I don't know.

- Seven years ago, that's when.



   

                   

He asked you to play at your

father's funeral and you refused.



   

                   

Why did you do a thing like that?



   

                   

Who the hell do you think you are?



   

                   

Your brother hates you so much

he didn't even bother to visit you



   

                   

in the hospital

after you were shot.



   

                   

You've burned a lot of bridges

in your day, haven't you?



   

                   

All right, that was good.

Let's do it one more time.



   

                   

J ust to be sure

we've got the blocking down.



   

                   

Remember, Tom, scene begins,

the door swings open...



   

                   

"I want, don't want to go"...



   

                   

"You're not going anywhere,"

"I want to go"...



   

                   

"You're not going anywhere."

...Shove,



   

                   

Celia's thrown onto the bed...



   

                   

then, remember if you

stop here, on the mark,



   

                   

because it is simpler

for you to go to the bureau...



   

                   

where you get out the gun.



   

                   

Ah, where's the gun?



   

                   

The gun...

The gun.



   

                   

And Billy, Mark will give you a signal

when you have to knock on the door.



   

                   

And it's right after Tom says,

"Do what you have to do, do it now."



   

                   

Okay?



   

                   

Everything clear?



   

                   

- All right...

-  Quiet! Lock it up...



   

                   

Scene three, take one, mark.



   

                   

Ah...



   

                   

This little piece

of nastiness interests me.



   

                   

December fourth, six years ago...



   

                   

The Paradise Lounge,

Milwaukee, Wisconsin.



   

                   

You and your band performed

there that night, didn't you?



   

                   

Do you remember a man

named Jack Bartholomew?



   

                   

- We settled out of court.

- I know that.



   

                   

But you didn't have

to break his arm, did you?



   

                   

The guy stiffed us.



   

                   

He begs us to play

his lousy club in Milwaukee...



   

                   

in the middle of the goddamn

winter and the night we go on



   

                   

there's a snowstorm

and nobody shows up.



   

                   

So the son-of-a-bitch

decides not to pay us.



   

                   

We hardly had enough money

to get back to New York.



   

                   

So I lost my temper.



   

                   

You loved playing with

that band, didn't you?



   

                   

It was my whole life.



   

                   

You shouldn't have

given up music, Izzy.



   

                   

I didn't.

It gave me up.



   

                   

I got shot, remember?



   

                   

I'm tired of this.



   

                   

I don't want to be here anymore.



   

                   

What else to you care about, Izzy?



   

                   

Besides yourself, that is.



   

                   

Care?

What do you mean care?



   

                   

I don't know...



   

                   

Collecting stamps,

French wine...



   

                   

Astrology.



   

                   

I'm not interested

in these questions.



   

                   

Come on, Izzy.



   

                   

Indulge me.



   

                   

Women...

Women's bodies.



   

                   

- Having sex with women.

- Good.



   

                   

What else?



   

                   

Nothing.



   

                   

Besides music, that's it.



   

                   

What's your favorite book?



   

                   

I don't have a favorite book.



   

                   

What's your favorite movie?



   

                   

I don't like the movies.

I never go to them.



   

                   

I thought every American

loved the movies.



   

                   

Not me...



   

                   

I used to go

when I was a kid.



   

                   

But then Gene Kelly retired,



   

                   

and the joy

kind of went out of it for me.



   

                   

He's dead now, you know.



   

                   

You're not pulling my leg, are you?



   

                   

You really like Gene Kelly?



   

                   

Yeah...

As a matter of fact, I do.



   

                   

Which film?



   

                   

- Which song?

- I don't know. Most of them, I guess.



   

                   

But my favorite number

would have to be "Singin' in the Rain".



   

                   

- I never get tired of it.

- For once I agree with you...



   

                   

I love it, too. In fact I would even

go so far as to say



   

                   

it's one of the finest, most beautiful

things ever created by an American.



   

                   

As good as the

Declaration of Independence.



   

                   

As good as Moby Dick.



   

                   

Shit...

It's better than that stuff.



   

                   

"Singin' in the Rain" is forever.



   

                   

"I'm singing in the rain...



   

                   

just singing in the rain...



   

                   

What a glorious feeling,

I'm... happy again."



   

                   

If you want, I'll call

New York in the morning.



   

                   

I'll get someone to

start looking for him.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Tomorrow's Sunday.



   

                   

What are you

going to do with yourself?



   

                   

I don't know. I haven't been

able to think that far ahead.



   

                   

Don't sit around and sulk.



   

                   

You promise me that?



   

                   

We've got some very demanding

scenes on Monday and Tuesday...



   

                   

and you need a clear head.



   

                   

I'll be all right.



   

                   

Love affairs come and go...



   

                   

but the work is what lasts.



   

                   

You know that, don't you?



   

                   

No...



   

                   

I don't think I do.



   

                   

I don't think I know anything.



   

                   

Come here, Izzy.



   

                   

- Don't you ever sleep?

- We don't have much time. Sit.



   

                   

- Is something wrong?

- Everything's wrong.



   

                   

Because of you.



   

                   

And I thought you were

beginning to like me.



   

                   

- Silly me.

- I was...



   

                   

But feelings have

nothing to do with this.



   

                   

- I can't trust you.

- Look, I'm not stupid...



   

                   

You know too much about me

for me to lie to you.



   

                   

You're not worthy.

You've led a bad, dishonest life.



   

                   

I'm not going to argue with you.



   

                   

But then I got shot.



   

                   

You'd think that would be the worst

thing that could have happened to me.



   

                   

But it wasn't.



   

                   

I've changed since then.

I've let go of my rottenness.



   

                   

A new man...?



   

                   

Maybe.



   

                   

I don't know what to call it.

But I feel more connected to things now.



   

                   

More connected to other people.



   

                   

Responsible, somehow.



   

                   

Then why haven't you helped me?



   

                   

Why haven't you

told me about Celia Burns?



   

                   

- Who?

- You heard me.



   

                   

- I don't know that person...

- I could have you killed, you know.



   

                   

All I have to do is bang on the door,

and a man will come in here



   

                   

with a gun and put

a bullet through your head.



   

                   

Been there, done that.



   

                   

- Sounds like the old Izzy to me.

- Well, habits die hard.



   

                   

If you'd told me right away...



   

                   

the whole situation

could have been saved.



   

                   

But now it's probably too late.



   

                   

What if I told you this is your one

chance to do some good in the world?



   

                   

Tell me about her,

Izzy, and I'll let you go.



   

                   

I'll unlock the door

and you'll be free.



   

                   

I wish I could but I don't know

this person you're talking about.



   

                   

Of course you do!



   

                   

You're in love with her!



   

                   

I am?



   

                   

That's it.



   

                   

I have nothing more to say to you.



   

                   

You won't be seeing me again.



   

                   

And without me, you're lost.



   

                   

May God have mercy on your soul.



   

                   

What happened to you, Izzy?



   

                   

Where are you?



   

                   

Help me!



   

                   

Please!

Someone...!



   

                   

Help me!



   

                   

- Celia Burns?

- Yes?



   

                   

May I have a word

with you, please?



   

                   

I'm sorry. I have to be at

the set in    minutes.



   

                   

It's about Izzy Maurer.

He wants to see you.



   

                   

Izzy?



   

                   

- You know where he is?

- I do.



   

                   

If you come with me now,

I can take you right to him.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

Oh, they're expecting me.

Can I call them first?



   

                   

I don't want them to worry.



   

                   

There's a phone in the car.



   

                   

Who are they?



   

                   

Don't worry.

They're with me.



   

                   

Come.



   

                   

I get it...



   

                   

I know what you want now.



    

                   

It's in here.



    

                   

J ust go!



    

                   

Don't do it, miss...

We're not going to hurt you.



    

                   

It's a disaster.



    

                   

The worst thing

I've ever lived through.



    

                   

   days of shooting,

and on the   th day...



    

                   

she doesn't show up.



    

                   

We had to shut down

and send everyone home.



    

                   

The insurance company has

three detectives looking for her...



    

                   

and not one of them

has found a lead.



    

                   

Nothing.



    

                   

Not even a whiff.



    

                   

I should have been there with her...



    

                   

I never should have waited.



    

                   

To tell you the truth, I still have

trouble believing what happened.



    

                   

The whole thing's like a dream,

like she was never really there.



    

                   

Was she good?



    

                   

Better than good.



    

                   

She was extraordinary.



    

                   

Are you okay?



    

                   

Yeah.



    

                   

I'm all right.



    

                   

- Do you want a doctor?

- No.



    

                   

I'm all right.



    

                   

I almost forgot...

You should have one of these.



    

                   

The editor put together

a rough cut of the scenes we shot,



    

                   

and I had them

transferred to video.



    

                   

Keep it.



    

                   

Thanks.



    

                   

Go home, Izzy.



    

                   

You don't look so good.



    

                   

You need some rest, okay?



    

                   

Okay.



    

                   

I'll call you if I hear anything.



    

                   

You don't believe me, do you?



    

                   

Sure, we believe you, Izzy.

Why shouldn't we believe you?



    

                   

Tell me...

Am I a stone or a tree?



    

                   

What?



    

                   

J ust answer the question.

Am I a stone or a tree?



    

                   

- A stone.

- A tree.



    

                   

Am I a dog or a bird?



    

                   

You're both, man...



    

                   

You're a dog with wings.



    

                   

Am I a good person

or a bad person?



    

                   

Izzy, cut it out...



    

                   

You're going to drive yourself crazy.



    

                   

You're good, Iz...



    

                   

You're good with

some bad stuff mixed in.



    

                   

J ust like everyone else.



    

                   

Am I here...

or not here?



    

                   

What difference does it make?



    

                   

Life is just an illusion anyway, right?



    

                   

Don't worry about it.



    

                   

Help!



    

                   

Somebody help me!



    

                   

Help me!



    

                   

Help me!!



    

                   

He's gone.



    

                   

We lost him.



    

                   

Cut the siren, Frank.



    

                   

The guy's dead.













  

  

 
Special help by SergeiK