Gods and Monsters (1998) Script

He had a live-in nurse but...

She was nothing but a bother.

I not like her.

Mr. Jimmy not like her.

Would be better if you live in again, Mr. David.

Hanna, stop it.


If there's any emergency, you call me in New York.

Yes, I call.

Uh, Mr. Jimmy, more coffee?


Oh, well, yes. Why not?

Just half a cup, Hanna.

Isn't Hanna a peach, hmm?

But she tells me that you haven't been sleeping very well.

Well, it's these ridiculous pills they prescribe.

For instance, the luminal.

If I take it, the next day I go around as stupid as a stone, and if I don't take it, well, then my mind's going off in a hundred directions at once.

Then take the luminal.

Well, yes, but today I wanted to be alert for your visit, particularly as I saw so little of you at the hospital.

Jimmy, look, I'm sorry, but with this picture and two difficult stars...

Dear David.

It's no pleasure making you feel guilty.

Go on, off you go.

You don't want to miss your aeroplane.

I like your new Cezanne.



Good-bye, Hanna.

I get the door.

Who is this new yard, man?

Mr. Boom...

I-I don't...

Something "B."

I hire him while you were in the hospital.

He came cheap.

♪ Bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling ♪

♪ For you but not for me ♪

♪ O death, where is thy sting-a-ling-a-ling? ♪

♪ Grave where thy victory ♪ Good morning.

My name is Whale. This is my house.

And your name is?


Clay Boone.

I couldn't help but notice your tattoo.

That motto..."Death before dishonor."

What does it mean?

It just means that I was a marine.

Ah, the marines.

I suppose you served in Korea.


Well, I'm gonna get back to work.

Well, when you're through, feel free to use the pool.

And we're quite informal here.

No need to worry about a bathing suit.

I got another lawn to do this afternoon.

Oh, well, then some other time.

Yes, keep up the good work.

Jimmy! Privy needs cleanin'.

I have me class tonight.

Don't get above yourself, Jimmy leave the drawing to the artists.

Quite so, mum.

To the privy.

"Quite so"?

Jimmy Whale.

Who are you to put on airs?

Jimmy Whale.

Is there iced tea, Hanna?

Yes, Mr. Jimmy.

Ah, cucumber sandwiches.


An interview, after so many years.

Very exciting.

Oh, don't be daft.

It's just a student from the university.


This way, please.

Mr. Kay, sir.


Oh, yes, of course. Mr. Kay.

I'd almost forgotten.

My tea-time guest.

Mr. Whale, this is such an honor.

You're one of my favorite all-time directors.

I can't believe I'm meeting you.

No, I don't suppose you can.

And this is your house.

Ah! The house of Frankenstein.

I thought you'd live in a great big villa or a mansion.

Ah, well, one likes to live simply.

I know.

People's movies aren't their lives.

"Love dead.

Hate living."

That's my favorite line in my favorite movie of yours...

"bride of Frankenstein."

Is it indeed?


Hanna, I think we're going to take our tea down by the swimming pool.

Would that be good for you, Mr. Kay?


Well, lead on, won't you?


Oh, I love the great horror films, and yours are the best.

"The old dark house." "The invisible man."

They have style, and they're funny!

So, Mr. Kay, what do you want to know?


Just start at the beginning.

Well, I was born just outside London, the only son of a minister, who was also a schoolmaster.

Grandpapa was a bishop, church of...

Stop lagging behind, Jimmy.

We'll be late for church.

Come on!

Stop lollygagging!

Straighten up, son.

They'll think you're a Nancy boy.

Mr. Whale?

Your father was a schoolmaster?

Yes, of course.

And I was going to go up to Oxford.

But the war broke out and I never made it.

You cannot imagine what life was like after the armistice.

The 20's in London.

A break with everything dour and respectable.

I had a knack with pencil and paper, so I was hired to design sets for stage productions.


Yes. Help yourself.

Cucumber sandwiches.

Thank you, Hanna.

And you can go now.

There was one play in particular, a beautiful, grim study of war called "journey's end."

Every experienced director turned it down.

Not commercial.

So I offered myself.

"Journey's end" made the careers of everyone associated with it.

It was only a matter of time before Hollywood beckoned.

How much longer before we get to the horror movies?

Am I right in assuming, Mr. Kay, that it is not me that you are interested in, but only my horror pictures?

No, but it's the horror movies you'll be remembered for.

I'm not dead yet, Mr. Kay.


Uh, I never said you were.

Or w-will be soon.

So, "journey's end" brought you to Hollywood.

I've got a little proposal.

This line of questioning is getting old.

Don't you think?

I don't mind.

Well, I do.

Let's make it more interesting for me.

I will answer truthfully any question that you put to me, and in return, for each answer, you will remove an article of clothing.

I thi...

That's funny, Mr. Whale.

Yes, it is, isn't it?

My life as a game of strip poker.

Shall we play?

So the rumors are true then.

Oh? What rumors would those be?

That you were forced to retire because of, um, a sex scandal.

A homosexual scandal, you mean.

For me to answer a question of that magnitude, you'll have to remove both your shoes and socks.

You're a dirty old man.


Oh, it is kind of you to indulge your elders in their vices, just as I indulge the young in theirs.

No, there was no scandal.

My only other vice.

I expect you'd like a Fuller answer to that question.

It'll cost you your jacket.

Too warm for a jacket anyway.

You must understand how Hollywood was 20 years ago.

If you were a star, nobody cared a tinker's cuss who you slept with, so long as you kept it out of the papers.

As for us directors, well, outside Hollywood who even knows who George Cukor is, much less what he gets up to with those boys from the malt shops?

George Cukor?

Who made "a star is born?"

Take off your shirt, and I'll tell you all about it.

George is famous for his Saturday dinner parties.

Great writers, artists, society folk, all rubbing elbows with Hollywood royalty.

But how many of those oh-so-proper people know about the Sunday brunches that follow?

Armies of trade eating up the leftovers, followed by some strenuous fun and frolic in the pool.

Can we talk about the horror movies now?


Is there anything in particular that you want to know?

Will you tell me everything you remember about making "Frankenstein?"


Can that count as one question?

Of course.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

Just like going swimming, isn't it?

Well, maybe you'd like a swim when we're through.

I don't swim myself, so the pool tends to go to waste.

OK. "Frankenstein."

Who came up with the monster's makeup and look?

Oh, my idea, mostly, from my sketches.

Big, heavy brow.

The head flat on top so you could take out the old brain and put in the new like tinned beef.

He's one of the great images of the 20th century, more important than the "Mona Lisa."

Oh, don't be daft.

It's just makeup and padding and a big actor.

It's hardly the "Mona Lisa."

Boris Karloff.

How did you ever think of casting him as the monster?

He'd never even starred in a movie before that.

Mr. Whale?

Is something the matter?

Mr. Whale?

Please excuse me.

Mr. Whale, are you all right?


Need to lie down.


There's a day bed in the studio.

Oh, my god.

Mr. Whale, wh-what's wrong?

Is it your heart?

No, head, not heart.

Water. Glass is in sink.

Which ones? I bring them all.


Mr. Kay, you're not dressed.

I was gonna go swimming.

So you were.


You should probably go home.

You must think I'm terrible, Hanna.

I don't think you're anything anymore.

Just back from the hospital, already you're chasing after boys.

Oh, shut up.

All we did was talk.

Perhaps I should get you uphill before the pills knock you cold.

No, no, no, no, no.

Please, no.

Let me stay here.

Thank you.

Quiet on the set, please.

You're a disgrace!

Mr. Whale?

Jimmy, privy needs cleanin'.

Mr. Whale.

Open your eyes.

Now look left.

That's right.

And breathe out.


Let's see what we've got.

You're a lucky man, Mr. Whale.

Whatever damage was done by your stroke, it left your motor abilities relatively unimpaired.

Yes, Dr. Payne, but what about from the neck upwards?

What's the story there?

That's what I'm trying to explain.

The central nervous system selects items from a constant storm of sensations.

Whatever was killed in your stroke seems to have short-circuited this mechanism.

So you're saying there's an electrical storm going on inside my head.

Well, that's as good a way as any to describe it.

I've seen far worse cases.

What about all the rest?

The killing headaches.

The phantom smells.

My inability to close my eyes without thinking of a hundred things simultaneously.

I've never encountered the olfactory hallucinations before, but I'm sure they're related.

So, what do I do?

Take the luminal to sleep and whenever you feel an attack coming on.

What you're saying is that this isn't just a case of resting until I'm better, but that my condition will continue to deteriorate until the end of my life.

You will take them all, Mr. Jimmy.

Yes. Don't you worry, Hanna.

Good night.

Thank you.



Everything all right, Mr. Boone?

Yeah, sorry.

I didn't mean to disturb you.

It got away from me.

I was just going to buzz Hanna to bring down some iced tea.

I'd like it very much if you'd join me.

I kinda stink to high heaven right now.

Let me ask Hanna to bring tea for two.

Or would you prefer a beer?

Uh, no.

Thanks. But tea is fine.


Come in, Mr. Boone.

This is my workshop, my studio.

Hardly somewhere where a sweaty workman should feel out of place.

Are these your paintings?

Excuse me, but, uh, are you famous?

Oh, well, you know what they say, if you have to ask...

Look, I'm just a guy who cuts lawns, but, uh, some of these do look kind of familiar.

Well, that's because they were familiar when I painted them.

The one you're looking at is a copy of a Dutch still life done nearly 300 years ago.

And there's a Rembrandt here somewhere.

Yeah, copies. I got ya.

But before I retired, you might say I had my time in the sun.

Fame, as it were.

Tell me, do you like motion pictures?

Yeah, sure.

Everybody does.

Why? Were you an actor?

Oh, good lord, no!

No. Well, actually, I was in my youth.

But never in Hollywood, no, no.

No, here I was merely a director.


Well, what were some of your movies?

Oh, this and that.

The only ones you may have heard of are the "Frankenstein" movies.


And, um, uh, "bride of Frankenstein?"

And son of, and the other ones, too?

Uh, no. I-I just directed the first two.

The others were done by hacks.

Yeah, but still, I mean, th-those were big movies.

I mean, you must be rich.

Well, merely comfortable.

Look, Hanna's here with our refreshments.

Could you get the door?


How are you feeling, Mr. Jimmy?

How's your mind today?

My mind is lovely.

And yours?

You remember what the doctor tells us.

Yes, yes, yes.

I have invited Mr. Boone in merely for a cup of tea.

We'll have a brief chat, and then he'll finish the yard.

I am not forgetting your last "brief chat."

Will you go away?

We can manage.

He looks plenty big.

He won't need my help if anything goes "flooey."



Comic maid.

No, she's a love, Hanna.

But when they've been in your employ for too long, servants begin to think they're married to you.

Please sit down. Oh, and do help yourself, Mr. Boone.

So, what did she mean by things going all "flooey"?

I'm recently returned from a spell in hospital.

What happened?

Nothing serious. Touch of stroke.


You must excuse my staring, but you have the most marvelous head.


To an artistic eye.

Have you ever modeled?

What, you mean, like, posed for pictures?

Sat for an artist?

Been sketched?


No. What's to sketch?

You have the most...

Architectural skull.

And your nose, it's...

Very expressive.

Broke is more like it.


Oh, sorry to go on like this.

It's just the Sunday painter in me.

I quite understand your refusal.

It's a great deal to ask of anyone.

You mean, you really want to draw me?

I would pay for the privilege of drawing that head.

And it's just my head you want to draw?

I mean, nothin' else?

And what are you suggesting?

That you'll charge extra if I include a hand or a bit of shoulder?

No, I mean, you don't wanna...

Draw pictures of me in my birthday suit, do you?

I have no interest in your body, Mr. Boone.

I can assure you of that.

Well, uh...

Yeah. Why not?

I mean, hell, I could use the money.


Here are the trade papers you wanted.


Hi. Look, I know you already paid me.

I'm just here to...

The master is waiting for you.

He's down in his studio.

Here. Take this with you.

Uh, I'm sorry, lady.

You're gonna have to take this.

I'm just here so he can draw my picture.

I'm keeping away.

What you are doing is no business of mine.

What are you talking about?

What kind of man are you?

Are you a good man?

Yeah. I'm a good man.

Something about me make you think I'm not?

You will not hurt him?

Lady, I'm gonna sit in a chair, and he's gonna draw my picture.

Is that gonna hurt him?


I'm sorry.

Forget everything I said.

I will take the tray.

Yeah, you do that.

Ah, Mr. Boone. Come into my parlor.

Ah, Hanna. Good.

Thank you.

And, Hanna, good-bye.

Well, now, I'm sure you would like to wet your whistle while I work. Hmm?

Oh. Beer.

And we'll take it, uh, slowly today because this is your first time modeling.

Oh, hey, did you see this?


They're showing one of your movies tomorrow night.

You don't say. Which picture?

Uh, "bride of Frankenstein."

Ah. Hmm.

No, I much prefer "the invisible man" or "showboat."

Right. Now, shall we begin?

Yeah. I'm, uh...

I'm ready when you are.

Oh, that shirt, Mr. Boone.


Oh, it's new.

Yes, I-I am sorry.

It's just too white. It's too distracting.

W-W-Would it be asking you too much to take it off?

Well, I'm not wearing an undershirt today.

Oh, pish posh.

I'm not your aunt tillie.

You did say that you just wanted to draw my face, right?

Oh, well, if it's going to make you feel uncomfortable, perhaps we can find something else for you to wear.

Now, um...

Yes, we could drape this across your shoulders like a toga.

Would that help you overcome your schoolgirl shyness?

All right, all right. I'll take the shirt off.

Kinda warm in here anyway.

Oh, yes. That's better.


And if you'd like to sit slightly sideways...

To me. That's right.

And then just put your arm on the box there.

Just so.

Why don't you take a picture?

It'll last longer.

That's exactly what I'm going to do.



It's just like being at the doctor.

You have to remain perfectly still while I examine and scrutinize you.



Do you ever eat dripping in this country?

The fats from roast and such.

Kept congealed in a jar, and then used like butter on bread and toast.

Sounds like something you'd feed the dog.

Yes, it is.

Only the poorest families ever ate it.

We used to keep ours in a large, blue crockery jar.

Your family ate, uh, dripping?

Oh, of course not. No, no.

As I said, only the poorest families.

God, it's ironic.

What is?

I've spent much of my life outrunning the past, and now it floods all over me.

There's something about the openness of your face that makes me want to tell the truth.

Yes, our family ate dripping.

Beef dripping.

And four to a bed.

And a privy out back in the alley.

Are you also from the slums, Mr. Boone?

Well, we weren't rich, but w-w-we weren't poor either.

No, well, you were middle class, hmm?

Like all Americans, hmm?

Well, I don't know.

I guess you could say we lived on the wrong side of the tracks.

Well, in Dudley, in the north of England, there were more sides to the tracks than any American could imagine.

Every Englishman knows his place, and if you forget, there's always someone to remind you.

Our family had no doubt about who they were, but I was an aberration in that household, a freak of nature.

I had imagination, cleverness, joy.

Now, where did I get that?

Certainly not from them.

They took me out of school when I was 14 and put me in a factory.

They meant no harm.

They were like a family of farmers who've been given a giraffe and don't know what to do with the creature except to harness him to the plow.

Hatred was the only thing that kept my soul alive in that soul-killing place.

And amongst the men I hated was my own poor, dear, dumb father...

Who'd put me into that hell in the first place.

Mr. Whale?

I apologize, Mr. Boone.

Since my stroke, I am often overcome with nostalgia.

Well, I'm not that crazy about the old man myself.

You know what I mean?


Shall we just have a break for five minutes, hmm?

Spooky movie.

Just what this place needs tonight.

Couldn't get any deader, doll.

Set me up.

Your friend want one?

Yeah. One for what's-his-name here.

Thanks, doll.

I say we let lover boy watch his movie and be grateful he's not cuttin' Shirley temple's lawn.

Why is everyone breakin' my balls tonight?

Jesus, Boone.

You walk in here proud as a peacock

'cause some old coot wants to paint your picture.

We're just bringin' you back to earth.

Sounds screwy to me.

Can't imagine a real artist wanting to spend time lookin' at that kisser.


Yeah? Well, this kisser wasn't so bad that you couldn't lay under it a couple of times.

I bet he's just some fruit pretending to be famous so he can get into the big guy's pants.

What makes you say that?

Just thinkin' out loud.

Well, why don't you just keep your dirty thoughts to yourself?

All right, then.

He's interested in you for your conversation.

We all know what a great talker you are.

Fuck you.

Not anymore, you don't.

We're watching the damn movie, Harry.

OK, we're gonna watch the movie.

Calm down. We'll watch it.

James Whale! Right there. Huh?

What'd I tell ya? Huh?

What should I do then?


This looks corny.

If you don't wanna watch it, just go wash some glasses.

All right?

Good old una.

Gobbling like a Turkey hen.

Oh, that monster. How could you be working with him?

Don't be daft, Hanna.

He's a very proper actor.

And the dullest fellow imaginable.

To a new world of gods and monsters.

The creation of life is enthralling.

Simply enthralling, is it not?

These old movies were such a hoot.

They thought they were being scary, but they're just funny.

Maybe it's supposed to be funny.

Scary is scary. Funny is funny.

You don't mix them.




Sick stuff. Necrophilia.

The monster's lonely. He wants a friend.

A girlfriend, somebody.

What's so sick about that?

Do you know who Henry Frankenstein is, and who you are?

Made me from dead.

I love dead.

Hate living.

You are wise in your generation.

It's beating perfectly.

Oh, she's horrible.

The bride of Frankenstein.

She's beautiful.



You don't want him.

I can't leave them! I can't!



You live!


I'm sorry, Mr. Jimmy.

Your movie is not my teacup.

Still, glad it has a happy ending.

The bad people are dead, and the good people live.

My god!

Is the audience to presume that Colin and I have done her hair?

I thought we were mad scientists, not hairdressers.

Only a mad scientist could've done this to a woman.

Oh, no, my dear. You look absolutely amazing.

There's no way I can compete with you.

The scene is yours.

In the sequel, James, two lady scientists should make a monster, and our monster would be Gary Cooper.

I'd have thought Mr. Leslie Howard would be more your line.

More your line, I think.

My line nowadays runs to Rin tin tin.

Colin! Here!

It's time! How is he tonight?

Stiff as a board.

Yes, Colin, come see what they've done to our Elsa.

I'm not quite myself today, Jimmy.

A touch of the flu, you know.

Now, you just relax, dear boy.

You can do this scene in your sleep.


I gather we not only did her hair, but dressed her.

What a couple of queens we are, Colin.

Yes, that's right.

A couple of flaming queens.

Pretorius is a little bit in love with Dr. Frankenstein.

You know? Hmm?


Yes. I think we're pretty close.

Mm-hmm. Shall we give it a go?

Why not?

Quiet on the set, please.



OK for sound!

And camera.

Scene 215, take one.


The bride of Frankenstein.

Well, that was a weird movie.

Let's take a little walk, huh?

What do you say?

A little walk and talk?

I really feel like talking tonight.

This old guy's exactly the sort of person I expected to meet when I moved here.

You know? He's really done things with his life.

Do you realize you're more interested in this old goober than you ever were in me?

That's different he's a man.

Besides, you got no business callin' him a homo. You know?

It never crossed your mind?

He's an artist, but, you know, he's too old to be thinkin' about sex.

All the old men I know think about nothing but sex.

Hey, hey, hey.

What is eating you tonight?

You picked up that girl right in front of me.

I didn't mean anything by that.

No, I'm actually kind of glad it happened.

It made me wonder what the hell I was doin' with my life.

I still have time to get things right, get married again.

Y-You don't mean...

You're not marriage material.

You're not even boyfriend material.

You're a kid.

A big, fun, irresponsible kid.

No, I'm not a kid.

No? What are you, then?

What'll you be ten years from now?

Still cuttin' lawns?

Still bangin' horny divorcees in your trailer?


So I guess this means you don't want to fuck.

Is that all this conversation means to you?

Whether I put out or not?

Yeah, you're damn straight.

I'm tired of playin' games.


Hey, Betty.

Look, this is comin' out all wrong.

Betty! Forget it, Boone.

From now on, you're just another loser on the other side of the bar.

Hey. Hey! Hey, Betty!


We are friends, you and I.

You hurt my poor friend.

Isn't the monster dead yet?


Perfect night for mystery and horror.

Bad. Friend good.

Friend! Friend!

The air itself is filled with monsters.

Does the yard man come today?

Of course. This afternoon.


Can I do something for ya?

The master wants to know if you are free for lunch.

I tell him you'll be having other plans, but he insists I ask.

Well, I do have a lawn this afternoon, but I'm free until then.

Expect nothing fancy.

The master is dressing.

I'm to offer you a drink.

There is whiskey. There is iced tea.

Yeah, tea's fine.

No, no, you're a guest now.

You go sit in the living room.

Um, I'm more comfortable in here, Hanna.

It is Hanna, isn't it?

So, uh, Hanna, how long have you worked here for Mr. Whale?

Oh, long enough.

Fifteen years. Yeah?

You have people, Boone?

Yeah, people.

They're all back in Joplin, Missouri.

Oh, your wife?

Uh, I'm not married.


I don't know.

I guess because, uh...

No girl in her right mind would have me.

A man who is not married has nothing.

He is a man of trouble.

You need a woman.

Are you proposing what I think you're proposing?

Don't you think I'm just a little bit young for you?

Oh, men!

Always pulling legs.

Everything is comedy.

Oh, how very amusing.

How marvelously droll.

So, uh... Have you ever been married?

Of course. I'm married still.

What does your husband do?

He's dead now.

Twenty years.

Well, then you're as single as I am.

No, no, I have children, and grandchildren, too.

I visit when I can.

Of course, now Mr. Jimmy cannot be left alone for long, so I do not get out much.

Poor Mr. Jimmy.

There is much good in him, but he will suffer the fires of hell.

It's very sad.

You sure of that?

That's what the priests tell me.

His sins of the flesh will keep him from heaven.

Hell, everybody's got those.

No. His is the worst.

The unspeakable.

The deed no man can name without shame.

What is the good English?

All I know is "bugger." He's a bugger.

Men who bugger each other.

A homo.

Yes! You know.

That is why he must go to hell.

I do not think it's fair, but god's laws is not for us to judge.

So, what you're telling me is that Mr. Whale is a homo.

You did not know?


No. I wasn't very sure.

You and he are not...

Oh, no, no, no.


That's what I hope.

I did not think you were a bugger, too.


Oh. You must go in quickly.

He would not like to think I've had you in the kitchen.

Oh. How are you, Mr. Boone?

I'm all right, I guess.

I'm so glad you could come for lunch.

Princess Margaret.

"Her majesty's loyal subjects in the motion picture industry."

"Cordially invited to a reception at the home of Mr. George Cukor."

The pushy little...

Horning in on the queen's little sister, and then offering to share her with the whole damn raj?

This is a world I finished with long ago.

I've paid them no mind, and I expect them to return the compliment.


I, uh, I watched your movie the other night with some friends.

Did you, now?


Did anyone laugh?


Pity. People are so earnest these days.

Why? Was it supposed to be funny?

Yes, of course.

A picture about death, I had to make it interesting for myself, you see.

So, a comedy about death...

The trick is not to spoil it for anyone who's not in on the joke.

But the monster never receives any of my jibes.

He's noble. Noble and misunderstood.

In Korea, Mr. Boone... Did you kill anyone?

I don't like to talk about that.

It's nothing to be ashamed of.

In the service of one's country, something to be proud of.

Any jerk with a gun can kill someone.

Well, that's true, yes.

Hand-to-hand combat is the true test.

Did you ever slay anyone hand-to-hand?


But I could have, though.

Yes, I believe you could.

How free is your schedule this afternoon?

Well, I gotta trim the hedges, and then I got another lawn out on La Cienega.

Suppose we say "phooey" to the hedges.

Can you spare an hour after lunch to sit for me?

Um... I can't.

Well, I'll pay you our going rate, plus whatever you would have got for the hedges.

I-I just don't feel like sittin' still today.

All righty.

I understand.

You ever been married, Mr. Whale?


Well, not in the legal sense.

What other sense is there?

Well, one can live as husband and wife without getting the law involved.

So then you did have a wife?

Or a husband, depending on which of us you asked.

My friend David lived here for many years.


Does that surprise you?

No, um...

You're a homosexual.


If one must use the clinical name.

I'm not, you know.

I never thought you were.

You don't think of me that way, do you?

And what way would that be?

Well, the way that I look at women.

Oh, don't be ridiculous.

I know a real man like you would break my neck if I so much as laid a finger on you.

Besides, you're not my type.

So we understand each other.

Hey. Live and let live.

I hope this has got nothing to do with your refusing to sit for me today.

Oh, no.

No, no.

What are you afraid of, Mr. Boone?

Surely not a frail old man like me.

Tell me more about yourself, Mr. Boone.

Have you a steady companion?

Not at the moment.

Oh? Why not?

Well, 'cause I guess you gotta kiss ass just to get a piece of it.

Nicely put.

A man's gotta make up his life alone.

A philosopher. Mmm.


With a lawn mower.

I like it.

Yes. But do be careful, Mr. Boone.

Freedom is a drug, you know, much like any other.

Too much can be a very bad thing.

Is that why you and, uh, your friend split up?

'Cause he wanted to be free?

Yes, I suppose.

I know it's why I stopped making pictures.

You might not think it to look at me now, but there was a time when I was at the very pinnacle of my profession.

The horror movies were behind me.

I'd made "showboat."

Major success.

Big box office.

So now I was to do something important.

The picture was called "the road back."

It was an indictment of the great war and what it did to Germany.

It was going to be my masterpiece.

What happened?

The fucking studio butchered it.

They took the guts out of my picture.

They brought in another director to add some slapstick and the movie laid an egg.

A great, expensive bomb for which I was blamed.

And after that I was out of fashion.

I could no longer command the best projects, so I walked away.

Why should I spend my time working in this dreadful business?

Do you miss it?


Oh, it was all so long ago.

Fifteen years.

Making movies is the most wonderful thing in the world.

Working with friends, entertaining people.

Yes, I suppose I miss it.

But I chose freedom.

David, of course, was still in the thick of it, a life chockablock with anxiety and studio intrigue.

I didn't fancy spending my golden years as "the friend," so I finally drew down the curtain and closed the show.

And, um, when the fetters are loosened, a certain hedonism creeps in, don't you think?

Oh, there was a time when this house was full of young men.

Some of them even posed for me, right where you're sitting now.

Of course, they weren't nearly so bashful.

Oh, no, this studio was full of bare buttocks and pricks. Mmm.

Hard, arrogant pricks.

OK, just cut it out. OK?

Isn't it bad enough that you've told me you're a fuckin' fairy?

And now you're gonna rub my face in it?

Mr. Boone, I assure you, I didn't mean... fuck this!

I can't do this anymore!

From now on, I'm just the guy that cuts your lawn.

Got it?


Come on, Jimmy.

Watch me dive.

Hey, Harry. Set me up.

Where's Betty?

Took the night off.

Heavy date.

Some guy she's had her eye on for a while.



Hello, Helen. It's Clay.

No, I'm not in jail.

No, I don't need any money. Thanks.

Is sis there? Put her on.

There's this movie guy I met out here.

She'd get a real bang out of it.

Just let me talk... where is she?

You don't know.

Yeah, I'd give you my phone number if I had a phone, wouldn't I?

Put the old man on.

Yeah, you know, forget it.

Just let him sleep it off.

All right. Yeah.

Time's up, Helen, now.

I'm out of dimes.


Have one for me.

Mr. Boone.

Thank you, Hanna.

I wanna sit for you again.

Only if you promise to ease up on the locker room talk, OK?

Scout's honor.

I'm curious, Mr. Boone.

What convinced you to come back?

I don't know.

I like your stories, I guess.

Oh, everyone's got stories to tell.

Not me.


And the fear that you displayed at our last session.

How did you overcome that?

More like disgust.

Oh, same difference, Mr. Boone.

Disgust, fear of the unknown all part of the great Gulf that stands between us two.

Am I right in assuming that you have little experience with men of my persuasion?

No teammates in football?


No comrades in Korea?

You must think that the whole world is queer.

Well, you know what? It's not.

And war certainly isn't.

Oh, there may be no atheists in the foxholes, but there are, occasionally, lovers.

You're talkin' through your hat now.

No, I'm not. I was in the foxholes myself.

You were a soldier?

I was an officer in the trenches.

Was this world war I?

No, my dear, the Crimean war.

Well, what do you think?

The great war.

There were trenches when I arrived and trenches when I left two years later.

Just like in the movies, only the movies, ahh, they never get the stench of it all.

The world reduced to mud and sandbags and a narrow strip of rainy sky.

What were we talking about?



Love in the trenches.


Was that his name?

Leonard Barnett.

He'd come straight to the front from school.

From harrow.

And he looked up to me.

Wasn't like the others.

He didn't care that I was a working-class man impersonating my betters.

How strange to be admired so blindly.

I suppose he loved me.

I remember one morning in particular, a morning when the sun came out.

It's odd how, even there, there were days when the weather was enough to make one happy.

He and I stood on the fire step.

I was showing him the sights of no-man's-land.

It was beautiful.


And I was shoulder-to-shoulder with a tall, apple-cheeked schoolboy who loved me...

And trusted me.

You will not do this to me again, Mr...

Mr. Boone.

You will not set me on another walk down memory Lane.

I... I won't.

I absolutely refuse.

Oh, why do I tell you all this?

I never told David.

I never even remembered it till you got me going.

You started in on this.

You can't understand. You just sit there.

You let me talk.

"Yes, the poor old man," you're thinking to yourself.

Yeah. "The crazy old poof."

Why are you here?

Let's get this straight.

What do you want from me?

You wanted me to model. Remember?

Well, of course I remember.

What do you think I am, so fucking senile?

Uh, uh, Mr. Whale?

Oh, I'm so stupid.

Stupid, stupid.

Mr. Whale, you all right?

What was I thinking about?

Oh, would you go?

I'm sorry. Please.

Why don't you just go?

I just don't get it.

First you creep me out with this homo shit.

Then you hit me with war stories.

And now you're upset with me because I listened to you?

What do you want?

I want...

More than anything else, I want a glass of water.


Thank you.

I do apologize. I'm...

No harm done.

I have no business snapping at you.

It was foolishness to start this portrait, you know.

You mean you don't want me to sit for you anymore?

Would you like to come to a party with me?

A reception for Princess Margaret.

I thought you said you weren't gonna go.

If you don't mind driving...

I'd like to take you as my guest.

Yeah, sure, I'm game. Why not?

Very good, Clayton.

May I call you Clayton?


Yeah, sure. Clayton's fine.

Mr. Boone, he's an interesting friend.

I'd hardly call our yardman a friend.

Oh, no, but someone you can talk to.

That needs pressing, hmm?

Do you miss having someone to talk to, Hanna?

I have my family.

Also our lord, Jesus Christ.


Tell me, how is the old boy these days?

We need a hat with that. There's a Panama.

Oh, maybe in your old room.

No, no, in the storage closet.


Oh, Eva.


Gas masks on!

Oh, Mr. Jimmy.

That is my daughter.

She said she and her husband are coming to town this afternoon.

Here. I'm sorry, Mr. Jimmy.

I will make it short.

I will be out myself this afternoon.


I suppose you'd like the top down.

If that's all right with you.

Nothing would please me more.

Oh, good old George.

He loves to put on the dog.

Slim pickings.

Mind you, it's early yet.

Perhaps this is a good time for us to go and pay our respects, hmm?

Thank you. Thank you for coming.


I had no idea you would be here.

How are you?

Fine. I'm just fine.

And your royal highness?

Splendid, now that I know that you're around.

Can we get together while I'm in town?

I so badly want to sit for you again.


I've changed my hair, you see, since our last session.

Those old snaps look rather dowdy now.

Oh, dear. Have I made a blunder?

The pleasure is mine.

James Whale.

I am such a goose.

I mistook you for Cecil Beaton.

It's the hat.

You're wearing one of Cecil's hats, you know.

George, James Whale.

David Lewis's friend.


I used to make pictures myself, ma'am.

Yes, of course.

One can't throw a rock in this town without hitting one of us old movie directors.

Ma'am, may I introduce Mr. Clayton Boone.

My gardener.

How do you do?

Clay... Clay Boone.


I adore gardens.

He's never meta Princess.

Only queens.

Well, George, ma'am, this has been an honor, and one that I shall remember for the rest of my life.

Great place.



What was that all about?

Oh, don't worry.

Nothing of any importance.

Just two old men slapping each other with lilies.

I'm sorry.

Who's that?


The friend I thought was in New York.

No, the girl.

Oh, it's Elizabeth Taylor.

Oh, thank you.

Yes, David produced her last picture.

What are you doing here?

I was just going to ask you the same thing.

Thought you were still in New York.

I was, until last night.

I was going to call.

David Lewis.

Hey. Clay Boone.

Our yardman, who's been kind enough to serve as my escort to George's little do.

Should you be drinking in your condition?

Oh, David, will you stop being a nanny.

I think I'm gonna go and get another beer.

You should've seen George's face when he saw Clayton.


You didn't, Jimmy.

I did.

Mind you, Princess Margaret's an absolute doll.

Well, we're all equals in her eyes...

As commoners, I presume.

You only embarrass yourself.

Oh, dear.

I'll never work in this town again.

You know what I mean.

Your reputation.

I have no reputation.

I am as free as the air.

But the rest of us aren't.

Can't you remember that?


I never could.

I suppose you regret having got me invited here.

I didn't ask George to invite you.

Oh. Well, then, who did?

I have people here I need to speak to.

You'll be all right on your own?

Yes, yes, perfectly.

I'll drop by tomorrow for breakfast.

Oh, yes.


Oh, I say.

Thank you very much.

Just the one. Hmm.

Mr. Whale!

Mr. Whale.

Mr. Kay.

Bet you never thought you'd see me again.

I didn't know if you'd be well enough to come to this party.

You didn't?

I'm the one who got you on Mr. Cukor's guest list.

You, Mr. Kay?

But how do you know George Cukor?

I interviewed him after I met you.

I'm his social secretary now.

Well, assistant to his secretary.

Yes, I commend you. Yes.

If you're going to pursue poofs, go after those who can do favors for you.

You just waste everyone's time when you court dinosaurs.

Don't think like that, Mr. Whale.

I love your movies.

That's why I wanted you to come, so I could see you with your monsters.

My monsters?

Don't go away.

Uh, excuse me.

Miss Lanchester. Yes?




How are you?


I saw una O'Connor a few weeks ago.

She said you'd been under the weather.

Oh, well, nothing out of the ordinary.

Getting old.


Ah, what's our pesky friend up to now?


Is that Boris?

Our little chum appears to be arranging a reunion.

Oh, dear.

Boris, darling.

Elsa. Elsa!

And James.


How good to see you.

I didn't know you were here.

These public revels are hardly up your alley.

Actually, I'm here for the sake of Miranda, my great-grandniece.


And what do you make of our royal visitant?

Perfectly charming.

A real lady.

What did you expect, a hussy in tennis shoes?

Hey, you, with the camera.

We got a historical moment here.

Come, get a picture of it.

This is Mr. James Whale, who made "Frankenstein" and "bride of Frankenstein," and this... forget the baby a second... is... the monster...

And his bride.

Oh, Karloff. Right.

Don't you just love being famous?

To a new world of gods and monsters.

Are you all right, Jimmy?

Yeah. Yeah.

Got it.

Mr. Whale.

Are you OK?

I'm tired. I'm a bit tired.

Are you enjoying yourself?


Actually, I feel a little out of place here.

Well, neither of us really fits in here.

That must've been funny for you, seeing your monsters again.


The only monsters are here.

Oh, fuck. We left the top down.

You wanna run for it?

"Run for it"?

It's raining.

Hurry! Hurry!


Mr. Whale?

Mr. Whale.

Let's get out of this fuckhole.

You sure you don't want to wait it out?

We aren't made of sugar.

We won't melt.

"Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt."

I'm getting you home before you catch your death of pneumonia.

Catch my death?

Are you OK, Mr. Whale?

Jimmy, please, hmm?

Call me Jimmy.

Hanna, we need some towels!

We're soaked to the bone!

Oh, blast it.

Well, if we soil your floors, it's your own bloody fault!

Oh, I don't believe it.

Oh, don't worry. She'll be back.

She just can't say "no" to her daughter.

Well, you certainly have better things to do than to baby-sit an old man.

I didn't have anything planned.

Well, you go and get a shower upstairs and I'll get you something dry to wear.

Well, what do you think?


Mr. Whale?

Where are those clothes you promised?

Mr. Whale?

He trusts me, you know.

Mr. Whale?


Oh, yes.

Mr. Whale?


Yes, of course, uh, Clayton.

Do come in.

Now, I promised to get you some dry clothes.

The trouble is, you're so large.

You wouldn't want to attempt to get into my pants.

Uh, n-no. Definitely not.

Very good, Clayton.


Oh, I know!

This... this absolutely swims on me, so that should deal with your upper half.

And now we just need to deal with the rest, don't we?


Do you have any baggy shorts or pajama bottoms?

Uh, no. I'm sorry.

Uh, my pajamas are all tailored.

Would it be too distressing for you to continue with that towel?

It's hardly more immodest than a kilt, you know.


How very sporting of you, Clayton.

Say, is this, um...

Yes, it's the only memento I ever kept.

My original sketch for the monster.

Uh, shall we?


When we've finished eating, if Hanna's not back, shall we try a few more sketches?

I thought you'd given up on my drawing.

Yeah, but I'd like to try again.

It'll give us something to do while we wait.

Tell me something, Clayton.

Do you believe in mercy killing?

I never really gave it much thought.

You must've come across such situations in Korea.

A wounded comrade, or perhaps even an enemy.

You know, someone for whom death would be a blessing.

I never went to Korea.

I never even made it through boot camp.

But you said... that I was a marine, which is true.

You filled in the rest.

Oh, I see.

My old man was a marine.

Lied about his age, and he enlisted.

Is this the great war?

Yeah. Yeah.

By the time he was ready to ship out, all the fighting was over, though, so, he felt like he'd missed out.

Well, it was Avery lucky thing he did.

That's not the way he saw it.

To him it was like his life never really got started.

Nothing else seemed to matter.

Certainly not his family.

Is that why you became a marine, for your father's sake?

I figured it'd be the next best thing.

I mean, but, you know, I loved it, too.

I really... I did.

It was a chance to be a part of something important, something that's bigger than yourself.

So, what happened?

Didn't have the guts for it.



My appendix burst.

They gave me a medical discharge.

And the only thing I can think is, how the hell am I gonna tell my father?

And you know what happened when I finally did tell him?

He laughed at me.

Well, them's the breaks, huh?


No war stories for this pup.

That's where you're wrong, Clayton.

You just told me one.

A very good story indeed.

Whew. This storm is getting worse.

"A perfect night for mystery and horror.

The air itself is filled with monsters."

That's from one of your movies, right?

Very good.

"The only monsters are here."

Don't remember that one.

James Whale.

This afternoon at the party when you said, "the only monsters are here,"

I was wondering which "here" that was.

No, I... I don't recall.

Memories of the war, perhaps.


Barnett on the wire.

Your friend.


He caught his one night coming back from reconnaissance.

I wouldn't take him, but McGill did, "just to give the laddie a taste."

They were nearly home when a Maxim gun opened fire.

Barnet's body landed on this wire that was as thick as briers.

It was hanging there the next morning.

It was only a hundred yards from the line, but too far...

For anyone to fetch it.

So we saw him every morning stand-to and every evening stand-to.

"Good morning, Barnett," we used to say to him.

"How's old Barnett looking today?"

"He seemed a little peaked. Looks a little plumper."

And if he hung there...

Well, at least until we were relieved.

We introduced him to the new unit before marching out, speaking highly of his companionship.

God, we were a witty lot.

Laughing at our dead, feeling that it was our death, too.

But I tell you, for each man who died I thought, "better you than me, poor sod."

You know, a whole generation was wiped out by that war.

You survived it.

Can't hurt you now.

No good to dig it up.


Friend, it's digging itself up.

There is nothing in the here and now to take my mind off it.

The parties...

Well, you were there.

Reading... I can't...

I-I can't concentrate.

There's no work, of course, and, uh, love and, uh, painting and, uh...

Drawing, I mean.


Your portrait, Clayton.

It's all gone for me now.

All gone.

They're nothing but the scribblings of an infant.

There's nothing.


You said you wanted to draw me like a statue.


It's going to happen after all.

What did you say?

No, it won't do.

What won't do?

You're much too human.

Well, what do you expect, bronze?

Don't move.

I want you to wear this.


Just so I can see the artistic effect.

Your very human body against the inhuman mask.

Oh! Very striking.


I don't know.

Oh, come on, Clayton.

Just for a minute, so I can see the effects.

From the first world war, isn't it?

Mmm, yes. Yes.

Fasten this around the back.

Let me help you.




Now what?

All right, let's take it off.

Uh, it's too tight. I can't breathe.

Oh, no, l-l-leave it. I'll help.

Leave it to me.

Wha-can you...

I'm still here.


Mr. Whale.

Oh, what steely muscles you've got there.

Just take the fuckin' mask off me now, OK?

What a solid brute you are.

Oh. Hey! Hey!

Hey, just get your fuckin' hands off me!

It's no use, Clayton. I can't hear you.

I can't hear a word.

Oh, well, then, maybe this.

Hey, hey, hey, hey!



Now I've got you! Get off me!

How will you ever get yourself back?

I told you, I'm not that way!

Get it through your fuckin' head, all right?

You feel so good, Clayton.


Didn't even sting!

Wait till I tell my friends about this.

Won't they be surprised.

I haven't done anything with you You undressed for me.

I've been kissing you.

I even touched your prick!

How will you ever be able to live with yourself?

What do you want from me?

I want you to kill me.


Break my neck.

Come on, strangle me.

It'll be so easy to choke the life out of me.

Come on, Clayton. We've come this far.

I'm losing my mind.

Every day a new piece of it goes, and soon there'll be none of it left.

But if you kill me, death will be bearable.

You could be my second monster.

Come on.

Please, do it now.

Make me invisible.

I am not...

Your monster!

You're a bloody pussycat.

My deepest apologies.

Can you ever forgive me?

No, I suppose not.

I've got to go to bed.

Are you OK?

Oh, Clayton.

Do you need some help?

Pray, you undo this button.

I don't seem to be able to manage it when I'm tired.

Do you believe people come into our lives for a purpose?

OK, I can manage now.


When you die, make sure that your brain is the last organ to fizzle.

You'll feel better tomorrow.

Good night.

Good night.


Oh, hello, Mr. David.

No, he did not tell me, but that's no problem.

I make the breakfast.

Yes, very good.


Hanna, this is not what you think it is.


I brought you your clothes.

All I ask is you get dressed and go.

We have guest for breakfast.

Hanna, I need to talk to you about Mr. Whale.

There is nothing you could say would surprise me.

Maybe, but I still need to talk to you about him.

Let me have a cup of coffee.

I blame my daughter for keeping me out so late.

Thank you.

I only hope you did not get him excited.

You could give him new stroke.

Why do you do it, Hanna?

What I do?

Why do you take care of him like he was your own flesh and blood?

It's my job.

I did it when he was happy. It was easy.

It's only fair I do it now he is ill.

Oh, enough of this talk.

I must go wake the master.

Mr. Jimmy, good morning.

Mr. Jimmy?

What have you done with him?

You look for him.

I put him to bed last night.

Mr. Jimmy?

Mr. Jimmy!

Mr. Jimmy!

Crazy son of a bitch!

Oh! No! No! No!

Mr. Jimmy!

Jimmy! Jimmy!

H-He wanted me to kill him, and then he did it himself!

I didn't do this!

Mr. Jimmy.

It says here, "good-bye."

I find in his room.

Sorry, he says.

He's had wonderful life.

Oh, my Mr. Jimmy.

Poor, foolish man.

You could not wait for god to take you in his time?

You must leave.

You were not here this morning.

Look, I did not do this.

Police will not know that.

They will want to investigate.

W-We got a note.

You want them to question you about Mr. Jimmy?

Please, Clayton, it's better that I find the body alone.

How are you gonna explain how you got him out of the water?

You're right.

Uh, we must put him back.


Oh, Mr. Jimmy, we do not mean disrespect.

You will keep better in water.

Who are you?

I think you're a stranger to me.

I cannot see you.

I cannot see anything.

You must please excuse me, but I'm blind.

Perhaps you're afflicted, too.

We shall be friends.

It's very lonely here, and it's been a long time since any human being came into this hut.

I shall look after you, and you will comfort me.

No, no. This is good.

Smoke. You try.


Good! Good!

I was all alone.

It is bad to be alone.

Alone bad.

Friend good.

Friend good!

Time for bed, sport.

What did you think of the movie?

Pretty cool.

Better than most monster movies.

Yeah? I knew the guy who made it.

Come on, dad.

Is this another one of your stories?


It's the original sketch of the monster.

Is this for real?

Clay, the trash, before it rains.