Shock Corridor (1963) Script

My name is Johnny Barrett.

I'm a reporter on the Daily Globe.

This is my story... as far as it went.

When was the first time you got this urge, Mr. Barrett?

There must have been a first time. When I was 14.

And when I was much younger -

10- that's when I got the feeling.

What gave it to you?

Her braids.

Tell me about her braids.

I got excited. Go on.

I grabbed her braids.

Is that when you hurt her?

I never hurt her.

Did you pull on her braids?

I caressed them.

Just - Did you pull on them?

Do you think I'm a fetishist?

Hell, no, Johnny!

Let them bring up that word - not you. Yeah.

You'll be facing the best psychiatrists in the state.

They'll know when you're shamming.

I feel sorry for Doc Fong.

Professionally he knows he's playing with dynamite.

But he just couldn't turn down his closest friend, Swanee.

They were in psychological warfare back in World War II.

Today, the doc's a topflight head-candler, and Swanee's my boss... managing editor of the Daily Globe.

The role you'll be playing will be stronger than your strongest imagination... so don't ever weaken.

It'll be a daily duel between the insane and your own sane mind.

And as for the doctors there... lower your mast for an instant and they'll know you're a phony.

Never let them forget you're living on a sexual powder keg.

He's all yours, Swanee.

Think he's ready? As he ever will be.

Well - the next move is yours, Cathy.

Caressing my braids.

Kissing them.

What a disgusting story.

What happens if they find out I'm not really his sister?

I'll handle that.

Johnny -

Johnny, you've got to be crazy to want to be committed to an insane asylum to solve a murder.

Even if I don't crack this case, honey, my experiences alone... will make a book, a play or even a movie sale. But -

Every man wants to get to the top of his profession.

Mine is winning the Pulitzer Prize. Johnny -

If this story doesn't do it, nothing ever will. But their sickness is bound to rub off on you.

I said the same thing to you when you started singing in your skin.

Remember, Cathy? That's different.

But those hookers didn't get to you, did they? And those lunatics are not gonna get to me.

He's right.

Reporters have impersonated coal miners, school teachers, hoodlums.

Those reporters went in for a purpose.

Not to win a journalistic halo on the cover of Life.

And not to win a cash prize and get their pictures in Time and Newsweek.

Oh, come on, Cathy. All you have to do is play your part.

I'm fed up.

Fed up playing Greek chorus to your rehearsed nightmare.

Why don't you smuggle aboard a rocket and write the memoirs of an astronaut?

You have any cigarettes, Cathy? Why don't you give up this psychoanalytical binge?

Because it's what people buy.

Mark Twain didn't psychoanalyze Huck Finn or Tom Sawyer.

Dickens didnít put Oliver Twist on the couch because he was hungry.

Oh, come on, Cathy. Good copy comes out of people, Johnny... not out of a lot of explanatory medical terms.

Oh, stop it, will you?

You're on a hopped up, show-off stage. Get off it.

Don't be Moses leading your lunatics to the Pulitzer Prize.

Would you care for a cigarette? You make me sick!

Sick at the thought of you playing games with your mind and riding that crazy horse.

He has been conditioned for a whole year to ride that horse.

You've got to saddle it and get me off and running, that's all, Cathy.

Scratch me in this race, Johnny.

We made a deal.

My whole instinct is to kick myself hard for ever having gone into this deal with you.

What I should do is to land a righteous punch in your supercivilized nose.

Oh, Cathy, you're an intellectual, well past the age -

Don't you dare analyze me!



Johnny, I'm in love with a normal reporter holding down a normal job.

Mm-hmm, normal.

Do you think I like singing in that sewer with a hot light on my navel?

I'm doing it because it pays more than shorthand or clerking or typing.

I know that, Cathy. I'm saving money so we can have that normal life.

That's all I want. I know all about that.

But I'm scared.

I'm scared when I see how calm Dr. Fong and Swanee... and you can be about this whole crazy scheme of yours.


I'm scared this whole Jekyll-Hyde idea's going to make a psycho out of me.

Oh, now, wait a minute, Cathy.


Do you think I'd ever let anything happen to you?

But youíve just gotta go through with your part, honey.

You're the only one we can trust.

Thank God.

Cathy. Cathy.

Then go back to your dive!


That dive is holy compared to your ideas of work.

Hamlet was made for Freud, not you.

I want Somebody To love Johnny, Johnny Someone to care For me Johnny, Johnny Johnny, Johnny I need Somebody to hold Someone who'll hold Just me I'd like someone Who'll always be tender and sweet And kind Who's mine All mine

I need Somebody to kiss Someone who'll kiss Just me I want somebody to miss Someone who'll miss Just me I know That somewhere There's a someone Who's true

I know The lover I want Johnny, Johnny Darlin', my love Is you

Well, I told Mr. Ford that the only way for a stripper to strip... is for me to take off all my clothes.

Did Johnny phone? No.

Scared this whole Jekyll-Hyde idea... is going to backfire and make a psycho out of me.

But their sickness is bound to rub off on you.

I said the same thing to you when you started singing in your skin.

Remember, Cathy? That's different.

But those hookers didn't get to you, did they? And those lunatics are not gonna get to me.

She's gonna blow her top if that guy dumped her.

How can a girl love a guy that much?

Tell him it's Cathy.


Put her on.

Oh, Swanee.

Change your mind, Cathy?

Swanee, it's been four days.

You called the shot.

Swanee, I haven't heard from him in four days.

If you love him, you'd go the limit for him.

Well, good evening. What can I do for you, young lady?

My brother wonít let me alone. He -

How old is he?


Are you married? No.

Does he live with you?


Has he ever tried to... attack you?

He's tried.

Has he ever hurt you?


Have you ever brought charges against his sickness?

Why not? Ashamed.

And now?

He said he'd... kill me if I -

Are you ready to sign a formal complaint that he's mentally unsound?

I didn't hear you. Yes.

What's your brother's full name, please?

John Barrett.

County General Hospital.

The psycho unit, please.

Dr. Menkin?

Kane, 16th precinct.

Subject's name: John Barrett.

A tempted incest with sister.

Soon as we pick him up we'll send him over for emergency admission.

How dare you jackass me down here on her say-so!

I'm a reporter for the Daily Globe! Call my boss. He'll vouch for me.

We checked with him. He gave you a clean bill of health.

That's more like it. But his word doesn't carry much weight... since your sister signed a formal complaint - Formal complaint?

Now what can you expect from a stripper? Sis, come in here and explain how you dreamed this whole thing up.

Please. Mr. Barrett, please.

Sit down. Uh -


Your father living? No.

Did you like him? Of course.

Any brothers? No.

Any other sisters? Just Cathy, and that's enough.

Mother living? No.

Did you ever want your mother? What?

What are you saying? That's a filthy thing to say to me!


We're here to help you.

You, uh -

You love Cathy, donít you? She's my sister.

You love her like a woman, don't you? I would never let a meathead have her, no.

Mothers and fathers have the same fears.

You understand me, don't you? Of course. Of course.

Tell me, when was the first time you felt differently toward your sister?

Well, there must have been a first time.

When I was 14.

Look at the way his eyes lit up.

He's got me talkin'.

He's a happy little rascal.

Maybe younger, when I was 10.

Now if you'd just ask me what made me feel different... this story will write itself!.

What made you feel differently toward her?

Her braids.

Tell me about her braids.

I caressed them... kissed them.

Did you pull on them?

I'd never hurt her.

The next question's gotta be about fetishist, according to Doc Fong's script.

Oh, I don't like this. He's stalling too much.

If he doesn't come through with that question, I'll fall right on my typographical face.

Do you know what a fetishist is?

There's no contest in this.

Sure, I know.

As a reporter, did you ever cover a story... where a man became intensely excited whenever he saw a woman with long hair... long, loose hair?


Did he make love to her? Yes, he killed her.

You don't want to wake up some fine morning to learn you killed your sister.

Oh, now, Doctor, I'm no epileptic with some kind of fetish for hair!

Of course, Cathy - Now, her hair is different. I understand.

I figured you would. Yes. I understand.

Didnít you threaten to commit suicide if she ever got married?

Didnít you threaten your sister if she wouldn't let you make love to her?

That's different. Why?

Because she's different. Why is she different?

Because! Because why?

Because I want her, and nobody's gonna keep her from me!

I want her, Doc!

Cathy! Cathy!

Cathy! Cathy!

Cathy! Cathy!


Cathy! Cathy!

Cathy! No!

Personality synthesis. Test emotional state.

Test three: emotional tendencies. Test two: personality synthesis.

Emotional state.

You were a healthy lover, until you started this crazy idea.

And now it's consumed you.

You made a nervous wreck out of me.

Well, reverse the situation, Johnny.

What if I -

I were going away on a trip that could separate us for weeks... or months?

Would you help me... put a gap between us?

The drama critic on your paper... said my "Chablis-tinted hair...

"is like a soft halo...

"over wide-set... inviting eyes. "

And my mouth - my mouth was a lush tunnel... through which golden notes came.

Stop it, Cathy.

And my movements... evoke the most inflammatory passions... in all -

I miss you, Cathy.

My yen for you goes up and down like a fever chart.

I love you, Cathy. I don't like being alone, Johnny.

But you made me be alone, Johnny.

And I have a right... to find another Johnny.


Let me have his frequency table.

Yeah. Yeah. Mm-hmm.

Shows a culmination of internal sexual conflict... generally of old standing... and based on a constitutionally determined chaotic sexual pattern.

There's no doubt.

" His pattern of symptoms...

"in a mental disease is familiar.

"We've got to resolve the underlying...

"sexual conflict.

"Whenever he wants his sister physically...

"he is taking the form of a mental breakdown... an acute schizophrenic episode. "

Well, what does it mean?

Means I'm a pretty good teacher, and Johnny's a smart student.

So far, so good. I don't mean that.

Aren't either of you concerned about his breakdown?

What breakdown?

Well, taking all those tests is bound to make him sick.

You're right. That is something to worry about.

On the contrary, I think he's caught the perfect mood - a borderline psychosis, exactly as we rehearsed.

And if the superior court judge buys his performance, he'll be committed.

140 I.Q classification. Very good, Mr. Barrett.

Means superior intelligence.

Oh, my name's Wilkes. I'm sorry. You'll have to get used to no belt, no shoelaces.

New patient. John Barrett.

Barrett, eh?

Barrett, put it back.

Barrett -

Ward B, bed 2.

Come on, Mr. Barrett.

Come on.

Barrett, uh?

So you're a 140 I.Q journalist.

Where's your typewriter? Easy, Lloyd.

The last reporter I had on this floor was Ben Franklin.

And that egghead gave me more trouble than - Come on, Mr. Barrett.

Born phonies, all you newspapermen.

You came at the make-friends hour.

Patients who behave are permitted to congregate in this corridor.

They call it "the street. "

Gives 'em a chance to make new friends.

The women have their "street" too.

I used to work in the female wing, but the nympho ward got too dangerous for me.

Well, this one's yours, Mr. Barrett.

Am I the only loony in this ward?

No, Mr. Barrett. Your roommates are in the street.

Oh, if you don't mind, we never use words here like...

"nuts," "bugs," "screwy," "goofy," "loony. "

We'd like it very much if you didn't use them either.

I'm sorry. I'm a greenhorn inmate.

You're a patient, not an inmate. This is an insane asylum, is it not?

Not exactly. This is a mental hospital, and we're dealing with mental hygiene.

After Dr. Cristo takes you in hand, you'll be a different man.

He has one of the finest records in the country.

I really don't belong here. I understand.

You won't cause any trouble though, will you?

As you did when you attacked the county hospital psychiatrist.

I forgot myself. We're here to help you to remember not to forget.

I phone my sister? No. I'm sorry.

I'm hungry!

Lloyd will show you your place in the dining room.

Lloyd? What's the matter?

Lloyd, the keeper that called me a phony?

Well, he's no keeper. He is an attendant like me.

Lloyd doesn't like me.

Don't mind him. He doesn't mean anything with that chip on his shoulder.

It's just his way of fighting everybody because he can't cure the patients.

Well, make yourself at home, Mr. Barrett.

I made it! I'm in!

Ever since my voice changed, I wanted to be in the company of the newspaper greats.

And this long corridor is the magic highway... to the Pulitzer Prize.

Maybe I'm looking at the killer right now.

Three witnesses -

Stuart, Trent, Boden.

How do you do? I'm Pagliacci. Johnny Barrett.

Welcome to Ward B, Mr. Barrett.

If you expect a demonstration of insanity - forget it.

What are you in here for, Mr. Barrett?

Witness number one: Stuart.

Farm boy from the Bible Belt.

Hobby: playing Civil War games.

Believes he's General Jeb Stuart, Confederate hero of the Civil War.

Mr. Pulitzer.

Come on. I'll show you to your table.

This is your place from now on, Brisbane.

Yes, sir.

Just behave yourself. Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

They don't give us any knives or forks around here. They're afraid we'll hurt ourselves.

Take your anti-convulsions. I don't like it.

Gimme, uh, the - Gimme the, uh - the tranquilizer drug.

No, no, no, no. Gimme - Gimme - Gimme -

Gimme the - the - That one. That one.

No, no, no. No, th-that one - that one there. The white one. Yeah.

I hate my meat already chewed up! I can eat a steak the size of a cow!

What am I, an infant? Drink this.

He ate my vitamins!


He took my vitamins! Gimme back my vitamins!

Gimme back my vitamins!

Stuart, bring your brigade up around the right here.

We'll flank McClellan's forces. Then we hit Antietam and hit 'em hard.

You will address me as "sir. "

A lieutenant general never serves a major general.

What lieutenant general?

Nathan Bedford Forrest.

At ease, General. Report to my command post.

Where are you bivouacked, sir?

Come on, gentlemen. We're going back to the wards.

Where are you bivouacked, sir?

A mile north of Gettysburg -Ward B.

Better leave your brigade behind with me, General.

I'll be there, sir.

Now march!

All the men want me, Johnny.

But I want you.

And you - you want the Pulitzer Prize.

I Want Somebody To love Johnny, Johnny Someone to care For me

I need Somebody

Somebody to hold


Thank you.

Thank you.

I was in the middle of an aria.

And I pitched forward on my face like this...

and died of a heart attack... caused by overweight.

A knife is a messy weapon!

It was a knife that killed Sloan in the kitchen.

Do you know why so many people came to my funeral?

They wanted to make sure I was dead.

Who used a knife on Sloan?

I took my time killing my wife.

Did you know that a man named Sloan, a patient here, was killed with a knife in the kitchen?

Still an unsolved murder.

I despise butchery!

I didn't want my wife to die like Sloan... so I gently sang her to death.

Good night, Mr. Barrett.

He remembered Sloan's murderer.

They do have flashes of sanity.

Breakfast bell! Wake up, John! Wake up! Jonathan, up.

La, la, la, la Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

Wake up, John. Wake up. Wake up. Good morning.

Now that's better.

La, la, la, la La, la, la, up Sing. Figaro ti, Figaro ta Sing. Sing. Sing.

Figaro la, Figaro li Figaro la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la Figaro la, Figaro la

Ah, you started as a copy boy, I see.

Yeah, when I was 14.

And supported your sister. Mm-hmm.

Did you sleep well?

I'm an opera lover now.

Pagliacci's harmless.

I want to help you, John, but I need your cooperation.

I understand.

Why didnít you cooperate with my staff this morning?

They want to hurt me.

Do I want to hurt you?

Oh, I've had my eye on you every minute since I've been here.

Do you know who I am? Of course.

Who am I?

Dr. Cristo, clinical director, head of the medical staff for seven years.

Married, two children. Hobby: golf.

Don't you know?

Now it's time to ask me about voices.

You hear voices?


My head hurts. I gotta get outta here.

Call my paper. They can't go to press without me there. Is Cathy all right?

That's why youíre here, John... to make sure she will be all right, you understand?

Why did you fingerprint me? I've committed no crime.

You're not in prison, John.

He told me I shouldn't love her as a woman.

Who told you?

The man on TV. He looked right at me and told me it was naughty.

Now, how would he know? He's never met Cathy.

Does he talk to you often? Every time I turn on TV.

Could this man be your father?

My father wouldnít get sore if I played around with Cathy.

And besides, what's he doing on TV? He's dead.

I am impotent.

And I like it.

How you feeling, Mr. Barrett? Fine. Just fine.

Hydrotherapy - is that what you call this treatment I'm getting?

That's right.

Cathy come to visit me yet? Your sister?

Yeah. Not yet. She'll probably come on visiting day.

Confidentially, Mr. Wilkes - Yes?

Come here. Come here.

Do you really think that all this nerve-calming treatment's... gonna help me forget how much I want her in my arms?

We know about his fetish for your hair.

But did he ever try to cut it off?


With a pair of scissors or a knife?


Did he kiss you when he tried to cut off your hair?


Well - Uh -


Did he ever attack any man who showed an interest in you?


Do you love John? Oh, yes.

More than just as a brother?

What do you mean?

Well, often these cases are developed through encouragement.

What do you mean?

Forgive me for saying it, Ms. Barrett, but there's something very strange about this case.

And you don't appear to be too cooperative.

I -

Yeah, well, I'm sorry, Dr. Cristo. I -

When I received your call, I - I thought something had happened to Johnny and I -

Well, I just wasn't prepared for this -

Inquisition? No.

But you thought of the word, didnít you?


Was he jealous of the way you revealed your body to other men?

Relax, Ms. Barrett.

May I see Johnny now?

You'll have to wait for visiting day.

How is he getting along?

He's in dance therapy now. Dance therapy?

I got an idea how I can help my buddy. I'd do anything to help.

All right. Have the fellow play "Dixie. "

Joe, would you please play "Dixie"?

And a-one and a-two And a-three and a-four And a-one, two, and a-one and a-two and a-three and a-four And a-one and a-two And a-three and a-four And a-one and a-two A- three, a-four One and a-one, a-two, a-three and four

One and a-two, three and four One and two I want water!

I'll get the water for you, General.


One, two, three and four And one and two and three Dixie!

Four and five and six

My Bonnie lies over the ocean My Bonnie lies over the sea My Bonnie lies over the ocean Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me Bring back, oh, bring back Oh, bring back my Bonnie Nymphos.

He's mine.

He's mine.

He's mine.

He's mine.

He's mine.

What's the matter with this door?

He's mine.

He's mine.

He's mine.

He's mine.

Hello, girls.

I hope that door opens.

It's got to!

My Bonnie lies over the ocean My Bonnie lies over the sea My Bonnie lies over the ocean Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me My Bonnie lies over the sea My Bonnie lies over I love coffee, I love tea I love the boys and the boys love me I love coffee, I love tea My Bonnie lies over the ocean I love coffee, I love tea! I love the boys, and the boys love me!

Bring back, oh, bring back Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me My Bonnie lies over the ocean My Bonnie lies over the sea My Bonnie lies over the ocean Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me I love coffee, I love tea! I love the boys, and the boys love me!

I love coffee, I love tea!

I heard about you getting wounded at Shiloh, sir.

Does it hurt much?

I'll get the mess sergeant to fix you some baked apple.

Baked apple. I -

I haven't had any baked apple since I was in Japan.

How far is that from Shiloh?

Japan isn't in this country.

It's far away in Asia.

Is that Buddha still there?

I keep seeing it in color... and it keeps looking at me.

The Great Buddha of Kamakura.

I want to climb a parallel up to his head... and look at the people down below praying for my battalion.

I keep seeing monks in a parade... and little girls dressed like baby geishas... going to prayer... to ask Buddha to take care of me when I go back to Korea.

I get up there on that playground. It's on the roof of the world.

And the wheel keeps going round and round... and round!

Like those Commies kept going round and round us on that hill in Korea.

Toy train.

Toy train. No.


Mount Fuji.

No. Another train. And another train. And another.

And another! And another! And another!

We were supposed to sandbag a train in Korea.

But we were captured.

I remember it was cold, and they marched us in the snow.

Who are you?

Johnny Barrett.

Well, what is this place?

It's a mental hospital.

What am I doing here?

You were a Commie in Korea.

That's a dirty lie! You became a member of the Kremlin Club.

Donít you call me a Commie!

You wrote your father that the Russians were your friends.

Now you tell me something, boy. Why should I write my Pappy?

He can't read.

He's a tenant farmer. He can't read or write.

I remember.

I remember I helped Pappy sharecrop another man's land.

But that's before I ran away from home and joined the army.

But, now, why did I run away from home?

I like my home.

That's a downright lie.

Downright lie.

I know why I went over to the Commies.

Ever since I was a kid... my folks fed me bigotry for breakfast and ignorance for supper.

Never-not once - did they ever make me feel proud of where I was born.

Now, see, that was a cancer they put in me.

No knowledge of my country.

No pride.

Just a hymn of hate.

I'd have defected to any enemy.

Because, you see, it was easy. My brains was cabbage.

They taught me everything from cabbages to commissars.

And they gave me a woman.

And she called me "mister. "

And she made me feel important.

What changed your mind about the Reds?

The Dogface.

The Dogface.

I was having a ball waving a red flag until I met a sergeant from the First Division.

He was a G.I. retread from World War II.

Fought through North Africa and Sicily... and all through Europe up to Czechoslovakia.

And after he was captured in Korea, well, then he was transferred to my camp... and then...

I was assigned to help brainwash him over to the Commie side.

And this sergeant -


That was his name.


He told me things that...

I never dreamed of.

Things that - that I wanted to wrap up gentle and proud-like and... go to sleep thinking about.

Things that give me a feeling like -

Things my folks should have told me.

And I wanted to go home.

So, yeah, I stopped wavin' the red flag.

And the Commies said that I was sick in the head.

So it was easy for me to... get on the next prisoner exchange.

And they brought me back and they gave me a dishonorable discharge.

And nobody talked to me.

And everybody spit on me.

And Pappy spit on me.

The newspaper reporters just kept hounding me, hounding me... hounding me and hounding me... hounding me and hounding me.


sorry, but... could I ask you a question?

Do you think they'll let me out of this place now that I'm all right?

Did you see the man that... killed Sloan in the kitchen?


I saw him.

I was under a table with two other men.

What was I doing under a table?

I didn't see his face, but...

I know he had white pants.

White pants.

White fence.

A stone wall.

A bend in a stone wall!


We've got to help General Lee!

Come on!

Let's get those damn Yankees!

Come on!

White... pants.

Does he ask for me? All the time.

You have nothing to worry about.

He likes tea, you know? With lemon in it.

And oatmeal.

The killer is an attendant or a doctor.

Stuart couldn't see his face, but he saw white pants.

Tell Swanee that one of the other two witnesses will open up.

I feel it.

The killer is an attendant or a doctor.

Stuart couldn't see his face, but he saw white pants.

Tell Swanee that one of the other two witnesses will open up. I feel it.

You know, if he went down into a coal mine on a disaster story... he'd come up with a little coal dirt on his face, wouldn't he?

He's getting sick.

He's doing great. He's been there only six weeks... and narrowed the hunt down to a hospital employee, didn't he?

Something the cops couldn't do.

If you don't phone Dr. Cristo right now and get Johnny out of there tonight, I will.

Oh, Cathy, you're becoming a nervous wreck.

I'm more worried about you outside than I am Johnny inside.

Phone him! You phone him!

Call Dr. Cristo, and you lose Johnny for good, and you know it!

Have a stick of gum.

Have another one. Come on.

Chew two. Open your mouth and chew 'em.

I got five. Come on.

Chew. Chew 'em good. Put 'em in your mouth.

It's very good for you. Here. It's very good for you. Chew these up.

Chew 'em.

A little more. That'll be just enough.

Chew. Come on. Chew, chew, chew.

See, you chew, and your jaw muscles, they get tired. See?

And then the other muscles, they get the message and they get tired too. See?

And before you know it... you're sleeping.

And when we're asleep... nobody can tell a sane man from an insane man.


Good night, Mr. Barrett.

Good night, Mr. Pagliacci.

Did you make Johnny change his mind?

I tried, but he's just too close to the story now.

That ex-G.I. Stuart has been transferred to another floor... but Johnny is certain that Trent or Boden will open up.

Was Dr. Fong with you? Uh-huh.

What did he say?

That it's natural for Johnny to show mental strain.

What else? Well, that's it.

Do you want me to check with Dr. Fong myself?

Well, he is afraid that the force driving Johnny can boomerang.

Meaning he could snap? Is that it?

Now, don't jump to conclusions.

Look, if I pulled him off now, he'd still suffer from some kind of depressive psychosis... because he'd never know what would have happened... if he had stuck it out long enough to contact the other witnesses.

You mean if he quits now, that depression sickness could hit him?


But if he cracks the murder, he'll be all right, won't he?


Do you seriously believe that?


You're crazy!

Oh, no. No, thank you. No.

There is nothing in there that will hurt you.

Last time I went into a strange room, I was attacked by amazons.

That's a secret dream most men have.

Mm-hmm. Well, you try it sometime, tell me about.

Come on, Mr. Barrett.


Something wrong?


Just saw the twitch in one of your muscles.

The one in my head?

Tell me, John.

Is your desire for your sister still as strong as ever?

I'll tell you what, Doc. You level me off, and I'll share all my dreams with you.

I'm cold and sweaty!

Chill sweats are usual in your case.

What is my case?

You're suffering from a form of dementia praecox... incident to the age of puberty... characterized by childish behavior... hallucinations... and emotional deterioration.

"Somebody's sleeping in my bed," said the Papa Bear.

Come on. Get up. Go to your own bed. Go on.

What are you in here for, Mr. Barrett?

"God-haunted Ghost and the Street of No Return. "

Oh, Cathy, what a story this is going to make!

Don't you dare strike me!

I'm pregnant. I've been carrying my baby for five months now.

"God-haunted Ghost. " Not bad for a lead.

If only Stuart had held on a little longer.

Another two seconds, and I'd have cracked this yarn!

Witness number two: Trent.

Only Negro student in a Southern university.

Hobby: collecting pillowcases.

T rent! Yes, sir?

A pillow case is missing. I don't have it, sir.

It's from your bed! I don't have it, sir.

Want to go back into the hole? I don't have it, sir.

Let him keep it. Keep out of this, Wilkes.

Dr. Cristo said not to get him excited.

You know what that pillowcase means.

It's all right, Trent. We know you don't have it.

Thank you, sir.

Come on, Lloyd.

He does that every day. He's reaching out for his nerves.

Friend of yours? No. He's a nigger-lover.

Didn't make his kid spit on a black boy. God punished him.

That's why he's in a catatonic stupor. Watch this.

Now he's the Statue of Liberty. What are you doing here?

Visiting a friend. So am I, friend. So am I.

The hole is for dangerous and troublesome people.

They put me in by mistake. So I heard.

No, you didn't. I just told you. That's right.

I know why youíre shining up to me. You want to carry my sign.

No, I don't. Calling me a liar?


Go make your own sign and carry it. You coming to the meeting?

What meeting?

I forgot.

Do you know the conductor of the state symphony orchestra?


I do.

He comes here now and then as guest conductor of our own hospital band.

I like him, but, uh, he's mixed up.

How do you mean?

He permits a black boy to play with white musicians.

Imagine - a black boy!

Oh, they're all right as entertainers, but -

Let's get him before he marries my daughter!

Trent! Trent!

Trent! Come on!

Trent! Come on, snap out of it!

Trent! Come on!

All right, break it up! What's the trouble?

There's no trouble! What are you hatching up now?

He's not hatching up anything! I'm talking to him!

Leave him alone.

Is everything all right, Trent?

Yes, sir.

No trouble now, Trent. Promise?

Yes, sir.

Let's check the backward. Come on, Lloyd.

Thank you, friend.

It's all right, friend.

You, uh, ever been on the Mississippi?


You like to watch the paddleboats go up and down the river?

I'd like that. Yeah, I'd like that.

I know the captain.

Mark Twain is a friend of mine. Come on.

Mark Twain!

Mark Twain!

Whoo! Whoo!

I like this trip.

So do I.

What's that?

A sign of the invisible empire.

That's a cyclos - from the Greek word kuklos.

It means circle.

This baptizes a new organization - the Ku Klux.

Sounds good.


Ku Klux Klan.

Sounds more mysterious, more menacing, more alliterative.

Ku Klux Klan. Say it.

Ku Klux Klan.


It'll catch on quick. It'll drive those carpetbaggers back north.

Scare the hell out of'em, tar and feather 'em, hang 'em, burn 'em.

Who are you? Your friend.

I don't know you. I got here firstest -

With the mostest men.

General Forrest. Nathan Bedford Forrest.

General... you going around taking credit for founding the KKK.

I'm the founder. I'm the Grand Wizard. What's our code word?

"Secrecy. "

General... if Christ walked the streets of my hometown, he'd be horrified.

You've never seen so many black people... cluttering up our schools and buses and cafťs... and washrooms!

I'm for pure Americanism! White supremacy!

Listen to me, Americans.

America for Americans.

We got to throw rocks and hurl bombs.

Black bombs for black foreigners!

So they like hot music, do they?

Well, we'll give them a crescendo they'll never forget!

Burn that freedom bus!

Burn those Freedom Riders!

Burn any man who serves them at a lunch counter!

Burn every dirty, nigger-loving pocketbook integrationist!

Collect a lot of blackjacks and good long lengths of pipe.

We'll show those rabble-rousers they can't breathe our white air... and go to school with our white children.

We'll get some infallible liquid and pour it on 'em!

We'll pour it on their homes and burn 'em!

Pour it on their pickaninnies and set them on fire!

Call out of the members of the White Citizens' Council.

Call out the KKK! Yes, we'll sponsor the Africans north!

Get rid of every black mother, son and daughter!

America for Americans!

America for Americans!

Keep our schools white! Keep 'em white!

That's right! Keep 'em white!

I'm against Catholics! Hallelujah, man! Hallelujah!

Against Jews! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Against niggers! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Against niggers! Hallelujah!

Against niggers! Hallelujah!

There's one!

Let's get that black boy before he marries my daughter!

Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!


August 30, 1954.

Wednesday, August 30, 1954.

The U.S. Supreme Court decreed the nation's schools must be racially desegregated... with all deliberate speed.

I'm a boy in the Amazon jungle.

A brown boy, not a black boy.

Someone is scraping my thigh with the teeth of the piranha fish... to change my blood to white blood.

I'm a boy in the Amazon jungle. A brown boy, not a black boy.

And someone is scraping my thigh with the teeth of the piranha fish... to change my blood to white blood.

August 30, 1954.

The U.S. Supreme Court decreed a ceremonial dance... to be racially desegregated with all deliberate speed.

Wednesday, August 30, 1954.

The U.S. Supreme Court decreed a ceremonial dance... to be racially desegregated with all deliberate speed.

It's the KKK.

Run. Run. Run for your life, Trent. I can't see his face.

Here comes the KKK. Run! Run!

Run for your life, Trent. I can't see his face. I can't see his face.

Here comes the KKK. Run. Run!

I can't see his face. I can't see his face. Run, Trent! Run!

Run, T rent! Run!

Run, run, run!

Always in color.

It's that same nightmare, always in color.

Strange how I always get my mind back after that dream.

What's your name?

Johnny Barrett.

I know all about that trouble you had in that Southern university, Trent.

You don't sound sick to me.

We were in a race riot.

You leading, and me trying to save your neck.

So you know I was a guinea pig in a classroom, huh?

The whole country went to school with you every day, Trent.

No. I failed.

Well, people were counting on you.

Oh, I wish I'd had the guts to have stuck it out.

I was brought up to have pride in my country. Called it esprit de corps.

It's inside me. I love it.

It's even a blessing to love my country, even when it gives me ulcers.

And those ulcers will stop... the day all schools must get an education... before being allowed to open their doors.

Do you know who killed Sloan with a butcher knife in the kitchen?

I can't blame the students.

They were brought up to hate the color of my skin.

It's their - their blueprint for delinquence, the birth of lynchings... the disease carried to those yet unborn.

Those poor, sick children... are taught to depend on their parents claws... instead of their love.

And the irony of it is that many Negroes are mulatto... and integration is well established down south.

Remember Sloan, who was killed in the kitchen with a butcher knife?

I remember the first day I went to school.

A woman held up her child so he could reach out... and beat me with his little fist.

Sure, I remember Sloan.

What was the name of the doctor that did it?

It wasn't a doctor. It was an attendant.

I even had a private teacher to help me to - to make sure the university wouldn't flunk me.

Do you know his name?

Of course. I saw him kill Sloan, didn't I?

Did you know that my house was attacked by night-riding shot gunners?

Will you tell me his name? Sure.

You know... if I hadn't quit school...

I'd have gotten very, very sick.

Tell me his name!

Get that nigger!

He's not going to school with my daughter.

First the classrooms, then the school dances. You know what after that.

Trent! Trent!

Go to your own home! Go to your own school, nigger!

Go to your own schools! Trent!

Go to your own black schools, nigger! Trent!

Go to your own black school! Trent! Trent!

I'm for pure Americanism! White supremacy! Trent! Listen to me!

I'm for pure Americanism! White supremacy! Snap out of it! Listen to me!

Get that freedom bus! Burn that freedom bus!

Burn those Freedom Riders! Shut up!

Shut up! Burn those Freedom Riders!

Trent, shut up! Trent, shut up!

Visiting time over.

That close. I was that close to getting the killer's real name... and, boom, he went nuts again.

Right back to the hole.

But there's still Boden.

I'll reach him.

I'll get to him, and this time I'm not gonna waste one of his sane moments.

I'm gonna ask him right out all about the murder.

Boom! I'll get the answer.

You realize, Cathy, I'm sitting right on top of this story.

You all right, Cathy?

Oh, Johnny.

Don't ever do that!

Donít you ever kiss me like that again!


You know what I mean.

No, I don't know what you mean, Johnny. You tell me.

What do you mean, I should never kiss you again like that?

What's the matter? What is it, Johnny? I'm sorry, Miss Barrett... but youíre exciting the other patients by shouting!

Miss Barrett! Johnny, what do you mean? No!

Miss Barrett!

What's the matter with her?

You're wanted on the phone, Cathy. Mr. Swanson.

Cathy? Didn't you hear me?

Mr. Swanson's on the phone.

Yes? You went to the hospital today, huh?

Dr. Cristo sent for me.

Well, why did he send for you?

Because he wanted my permission... to give Johnny electric shock treatments.

Have you lost your marbles?

Johnny can't take that kind of punishment. He'll crack. They'll find out he's a fake.

Oh, I hope they do.

Then it won't be me who will expose him. He'll expose himself.

Well, you should have refused the electric shock.

After all, he knows the killer is an attendant... and he's bound to find out his identity from Boden at the rate he's going.

At the rate he's going...

I don't know if heíll know his own identity.

What are you talking about?

He's beginning to think... that I'm really his sister.


What's the matter with my voice?

Why can't I talk?

What is it, John?

Why can't I talk?

I'll try again.


I'm fine.

Was there anything wrong a moment ago?


You're not holding anything back from me, are you, John?

No, sir.

Think another shock treatment might help?

Not unless you strap me in the chair and throw the switch yourself all the way.

I've learned my lesson, believe me.

No more race riots in the corridor, huh?

The way I feel now, a midget could whip me.

All right, John.

You can stretch your legs in the street during make-friends hour.

I beat 'em all.

They didnít learn a thing.


What happened then?

Why did I lose my power of speech?

What happened to my voice?

Witness number three:

Dr. Boden, American physicist, Nobel Prize winner.

Worked on the atom bomb, the H-bomb.

The most brilliant scientist alive today.

Went insane working on nuclear fission - missiles and rockets to the moon.

Hobby: drawing.

Now has the mentality of a child of six.

Hello. Hello.

You been away?

We played games.

You want to play with me? Mm-hmm.

Good. We'll play hide-and-seek.

I'd like that. All right.

You hide your eyes and count to 10.


One, two, three... four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, 10.

Now I wonder where he could be hiding.



Keep it up, John.

Maybe you can help him. We can't.

Wonderful. All by myself.

He's coming along just fine, isn't he? Oh, yes.

Good. See? I can do it all by myself.

Hi. Guess what.

I got Dr. Boden making a portrait of me.

It's really a professional job.

He was a wonderful artist at one time, you know.

Einstein's hobby was the fiddle, and Boden's hobby was drawing.

Still has the mind of a child, but his hand - his hand has the stroke of an adult.

Imagine me, your Johnny... giving therapeutic treatments to Dr. Boden.

Oh, you look so much better than you did the last time.

Well, you tell Swanee, Boden's apt to snap back to sanity at any moment... and when that happens - I'll crack that jigsaw.

What about my perjury?

Dr. Cristo will be delighted. Donít you see, Cathy?

The killer could score another victim if heís not exposed.

And the judge will understand why you lied.

Dr. Boden.

Dr. Boden wanted.

Dr. Boden wanted.

Dr. Boden wanted at the Pentagon.

Dr. Boden wanted at National Aeronautics and Space Administration.

Dr. Boden wanted at Newfoundland.

Dr. Boden wanted.

Dr. Boden -

Dr. Boden wanted at National Aeronautics and Space Administration.

Dr. Boden wanted at Newfoundland.

Dr. Boden wanted at Newfoundland.

Dr. Boden wanted at Newfoundland. ... at the Pentagon.

Not again.

Rockets were fired off in Newfoundland in 1953.

I detected the first hint of the radiation belt, didn't I?

Let me alone. I'm through.

He's rational!

Hey, not now.

Oh, God, don't let me lose my voice now!

Hold still, John. You're moving too much.

You know, John... we've become too sophisticated in the art of death.

Please, please, let me ask him.

I've got to ask him!

There's a sense of doom, crises.

I'll - I'll write the question.

No-No, it's liable to snap him back to childhood.

I- I've got to get my voice back!

We have too many intellectuals who are afraid to use... the pistol of common sense.

Don't panic!

John, how can I finish your portrait when you keep moving around?

Donít panic now! Your voice came back in the ward, didn't it?

Don't panic. It'll come.


I'm getting it.

Yes, my boy.

I got fed up with man taking a daily hammer and sickle-coated pill of venom.

If I'll keep saying it over and over and over in my mind... the words will have to jump out of my mouth!

Who killed Sloan in the kitchen?

I'm a pure scientist.

Who killed Sloan in the kitchen?

Let the Russians claim bigger satellites.

Now, if they are the first to... discover the mating habits of sea horses... must we then race them to discover the inner structure of a grasshopper's brain?

Who killed Sloan in the kitchen?

We should take advantage of our ignorance... and quit living like tigers - tigers in bomb shelters instead of homes.

Who killed Sloan in the kitchen?

Today, with all this talk of the panic button, we're right on the brink of disaster.

Who killed Sloan in the kitchen?

Today everybody's giving the human race two weeks to get out.

Now, I cannot live with a two-week notice.

Well, so I quit living.

Who killed Sloan in the kitchen?

Oh, yes.

Yeah, I remember Sloan.

You know, uh, for an insane man, he had morals.

I was down in the kitchen with two friends, and we were under this table.

Who killed him?

And we saw Sloan confront this attendant.

What was his name?

And Sloan threatened to expose him to Dr. Cristo.

And do you know why?

For taking sexual advantage of feeble-minded women... in the ladies' ward.

Who killed Sloan?


Wilkes! I've broken the story! Thank God!

Take a look, John. It's a perfect likeness.

What's that?

Well, it's your portrait, of course.

You must be crazy. That's not me.

I only draw what I see, John.

That's not me!

Oh! I don't - I don't want to play!

I don't want to - I don't want to play!

That's not me! I don't want to play!

That's not me! That's not me!

Will you - That's not me!

That's not me!

That's not me!

That's not me! Ah, that's not me!

That's not me!

Not me!

That's not me!

I don't want to play. That's not me!

That's not me! I don't want to play anymore with you.

I - I'm not gonna play... with you anymore.

Dr. Cristo...

I know who killed Sloan in the kitchen.

You've been hearing stories from a patient.

No, no, no. I'm telling you, I remember.

So you call the paper and tell Swanee that I know.

I know who the killer is.

It's Dr. Cristo.


It's Cathy.


I killed Sloan.

Yeah, I killed Sloan.

I killed him.

Wilkes? Yes, sir?

Keep him under restraint until further orders.

Killed Sloan.

Are you sure you killed Sloan?

Sure, I'm sure.



Cathy did.

Cathy killed Sloan.

Why are you interested in Sloan?

Wilkes killed him.

Who told you I killed him?

Dr. Cristo.

No. Cathy did.

Cathy killed him.

Cathy killed Sloan.

Cathy did it.

Cathy killed Sloan.


Why should Cathy kill him?

Somebody do something about my head!

Help my head!

It hurts!

Why arenít you taking a little walk in the street?

With these on?

What's wrong with them? It's embarrassing.

That's a good sign. How's the headache?

Gone. I lost it in the hole.

You know who I am? Dr. Cristo.

That's Mr. Wilkes, Mr. Lloyd, and I'm a different man.

Who killed Sloan?

I wish I could remember the name.

Watch it now. This maybe a trap!

Two attendants here. Could be one of them.



Who's Sloan?

Remove it.

Well, I think it's time you got a little exercise, John.

Thank you, Doctor.

Wilkes, relieve Kellogg in Hydro, eh?

Yes, sir.

I think youíre making progress, John.

Real progress.

He gave me the name of the killer.

He named the killer, and I can't remember!

I just don't understand!

He handed the story to me right on a platter!

Right on a platter. He gave me the name. I've got to -

Why can't I think of a name?


I can't remember the name of the killer!

Did you feel that? What?

It's beginning to rain.

I like the rain.

That was such a sour note, John.

You were way off-key.

I remember. Wilkes. Wilkes!

Dr. Cristo, you've got to listen to me. You've got to let me out of here. Please.

Call my paper. Talk to Swanee. He'll tell you why I'm here.

Now, John, don't start that again. Wilkes killed Sloan. I swear it!

Get Wilkes. I can prove it!

I thought you killed him, John. Doctor, I'm not nuts!

I'm here for the paper! I'm a plant!

Now forget all about Sloan, huh?


Why donít you keep Pagliacci company?

Have him sing La BohŤme for you.

Yes, sir.

Where did Cristo send Wilkes? Where?

I remember. Hydro. Hydrotherapy!

I remember! Hydrotherapy!

Who killed Sloan?

Tell me, or I'll tear 'em off!

Tell me, or I'll tear your ears off!.

Who killed Sloan?

Who killed Sloan?

Who killed Sloan?

Who killed Sloan?

Tell me!

I killed Sloan!

Now, if you don't mind...

I'd like you to call my paper... and ask Swanee to confirm that I was a plant here.

That is a load off my mind, Doc.

He was sane enough to write that story.

He has been sane for weeks.

Don't you stand there and tell me that there's nothing you can do for him.


Why is he like that?

Oh, God in heaven.

Well, a man can't tamper with a mind and live in a mental hospital... and subject himself to all kinds of tests and expect to come out of it sane.

John is a catatonic schizophrenic.

What a tragedy.

An insane mute will win the Pulitzer Prize.

He is not insane!

John... hold out your hand.


Johnny, Johnny, Johnny!

J -

Oh, Johnny.

Johnny, it's me!

It's Cathy, Johnny!


Johnny, it's Cathy. It's me.


No, no, no, no!

Oh, Johnny, no!

Patients who behave are permitted to congregate in this corridor.